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AMERICAN 
 
 MILITARY BIOGRAPHY: 
 
 containing 
 
 THE LIVES AND CHARACTERS 
 
 or the 
 
 OFFICERS OF THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 WHO WERE MOST DISTINGUISHED IN 
 
 \CHIEVING OUR NATIONAL INDEPENDENCE 
 
 ♦-?::-« 
 
 ALSO... .THE LIFE OF 
 
 GILBERT MOTIER LA FAYETTE, 
 
 MAJOR-GENERAL IN THE CONTINENTAL ARMY MARSHAL OP FRANCE. 
 
 AND COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF THE NATIONAL GUARDS. 
 
 PUBLISHED FOR E. WALTERS. 
 
 J 
 
 1 ' 
 
 CINCINNATI . 
 PRINTED AT THE CHRONICLE OFFICE 
 
 Price Three Dollars and Fifty Cents. 
 
 1830 
 
E 
 
 863 
 
 A 
 SUMMARY VIEW 
 
 OF THE CAUSES WHICH LED TO THE 
 
 AMERICAN REVOLUTION 
 
 Although the narrow and illiberal policy of the British 
 government towards her North American colonies, from their 
 first settlement, was calculated to alienate the affections of the 
 colonies from the parent country; yet from their exposed situa- 
 tion, and habitual loyalty, this unworthy conduct, long perse- 
 vered in, produced no sensible impressions on the Americans, 
 their loyalty and attachment to the interests of Britain were 
 not in the smallest degree impaired, down to the period of the 
 peace of Paris in 1 763. Never had they shown so much zeal, 
 or made such great sacrifices in the cause of their country, as 
 during the preceding war; having lost more than twenty-five 
 thousand men, expended all the revenues they could raise, and 
 involved themselves deeply in debt. Almost the whole burdens 
 of the war in America had fallen on the colonies ; and their 
 exertions were altogether disproportionate to their means, and 
 tended greatly to impoverish and distress them. After eighi 
 years' arduous struggles, attended with the greatest sacrifices, 
 the successful termination of the war — the dominion of France 
 in America being relinquished forever; occasioned universal 
 joy throughout the colonies; they forgot their sufferings and 
 distresses, in the fair prospects which the peace afforded. 
 
 But these prospects were of short duration; the peace of 
 Paris formed a new era in the views and conduct of Great 
 
i\ V .SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 Britain towards her colonics in America. The possessions of 
 France, in America, having been ceded to Britain, and having 
 no longer any fear of her power in this hemisphere, a system 
 of measures was pursued towards the colonies, originating in 
 jealousy, and tending to despotism. As soon as the colonies 
 had fought their way to a condition, which afforded the pros- 
 pect of rapidly increasing in population and wealth, attempts 
 were made to restrict their commercial and political privile- 
 ges, and gradually to reduce them to the most wretched state of 
 colonial vassalage. For a century and a half, the colonies had 
 been left to themselves as to taxation ; their own local assemblies 
 had provided the necessary revenues to defray the expenses of 
 their governments, and the parliament of Great Britain had 
 neither directly nor indirectly ever attempted to derive a dol- 
 lar of revenue from America; although various acts had from 
 time to time been passed, regulating the trade and commerce 
 of the colonies, yet none of these were designed or regarded, 
 either in Britain or America, as revenue laws. 
 
 But in an inauspicious moment, the British ministry conceived 
 the idea of taxing the colonies, under the pretence of provid- 
 ing for their protection, but in reality to relieve the nation from 
 the immense debt, the weight of which hung heavily upon it. 
 This iniquitous scheme, originating with the cabinet, was easily 
 introduced into parliament; and in March, 1764, as a prelude 
 to the memorable Stamp Act., the house of commons resolved, 
 " That towards further defraying the necessary expenses of 
 protecting the colonies, it may be necessary to charge certain stamp 
 duties upon them; and this resolution was followed by what was 
 commonly called the Sugar Act, passed on the 5th of April, 
 and introduced by the following truly alarming preamble: — 
 " Whereas it is just and necessary that a revenue be raised in 
 America, for defraying the expenses of defending, protecting 
 and securing the same; we, the commons, &c. towards raising 
 the same, give and grant unto your majesty, after the 29th day 
 of September, 1764, on clayed sugar, indigo and coffee, of for- 
 eign produce, [and various other articles,] the sum of," &c. — 
 This was the first act adopted by parliament, for the avowed 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. v 
 
 object of raising a revenue in the colonies. The justice of this 
 measure, which appeared so clear to the British parliament, 
 was regarded in America as oppression and tyranny and occa- 
 sioned great excitement and alarm. The deceptive preten- 
 sion, that the revenue was to be raised for the purpose of pro- 
 tecting the colonies, was only adding insult to injustice; as the 
 colonies supposed that they were capable of protecting them- 
 selves, and they apprehended that the object was rather under 
 the pretence of affording them protection, to maintain a mili- 
 tary force in America, for the purpose of dragooning them into 
 submission, and enforcing an unconstitutional system of taxa- 
 tion; thereby rendering them the instruments of forging their 
 own chains. This act was rendered more disgusting, by a pro- 
 vision that the money raised by it must be paid in specie, and 
 another, that those charged with having violated the revenue 
 laws, might be prosecuted in the courts of admiralty; whereby 
 they were deprived of the privilege of trial by a jury, and 
 were liable to be condemned by a single officer of the crown, 
 whose salary was to be paid from the very forfeitures decreed 
 by himself. And this was not all, or even the worst; as the 
 trial was conducted on such principles, that the accused, con- 
 trary to the well known maxims of the common law, and repug- 
 nant to every idea of justice, was obliged to prove himself inno- 
 cent, or suffer the penalties of the law. These iniquitous pro- 
 ceedings destroyed all security of property, and left every one 
 at the mercy of the minions of the British crown. Their per- 
 nicious influence was soon felt extensively in the colonies; they 
 no longer regarded Great Britain as an affectionate mother, 
 but viewed her in the light of a selfish, cruel and imperious 
 4ep-mother. The designs of the ministry were penetrated, 
 and occasioned great alarm, which spread wider and wider, 
 until it became universal. The press, that great engine of 
 truth and liberty, was called into requisition; the subject was 
 ably and elaborately discussed; and the more it was discussed* 
 and the better it was understood, the more strong and deter- 
 mined the opposition became. All the colonics petitioned and 
 vfmonstrated against these obnoxious measures, and, most of 
 
v i A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 them appointed agents to present their memorials to parha 
 mcnt, or the king. 
 
 But notwithstanding the excitement and opposition in Ame- 
 rica, and the remonstrances of the colonies, Mr. Grenville, whc 
 was at the head of the treasury, prepared the Stamp-Bill, and 
 introduced it into parliament, in February, 1765; and although 
 opposed with all the powers of eloquence, by Alderman Beck- 
 ford, Mr. Jackson, Colonel Barre, Sir William Meredith and 
 others, it was adopted by a great majority; fifty only voting 
 in opposition, out of about three hundred members, who were 
 present. On the second reading of the bill, various petitions, 
 not only from the colonies, but from the London merchants, 
 interested in the American trade, were presented; but the peti- 
 tions were not even received, being refused, on the plea that 
 no memorial could be received on a money bill. Having pas- 
 sed both houses of parliament, on the 22d of March, the Stamp 
 Act received the royal assent. Dr. Franklin, then in England, 
 as agent for Pennsylvania, wrote to Charles Thompson, after- 
 wards secretary of congress — "The sun of liberty is set; you 
 must light up the lamps of industry and economy." Mr. 
 Thompson, in a spirited reply, observed, " That he thought 
 other lights would be lighted up to resist these unconstitutional 
 measures." It is unnecessary to add, that this prediction was 
 soon fulfilled. 
 
 This unjust and impolitic act was the first great cause which 
 led to the American revolution; indeed, it was substantially 
 the first scene in the bloody drama of that revolution. It was 
 passed in parliament, on the 7th of February, 1765, under the 
 ministry of Lord Grenville, and was repealed on the 1 8th of 
 March, 1766, from the influence of Mr. Pitt. This period of 
 thirteen months was the most eventful and tumultuous of any 
 which had hitherto occurred ; the apprehensions of the peo- 
 ple were roused to the highest pitch, and the most determi- 
 ned spirit of opposition prevailed throughout the colonies. — 
 The Americans had not believed that the act would be pas- 
 sed, and on receiving the intelligence, every one was struck 
 with astonishment and filled with consternation; they looked 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. Vli 
 
 at each other with amazement, and for a short interval 
 hesitated what course to pursue; but soon recovering from 
 their consternation they determined not to submit to such a fla- 
 grant outrage on their rights. In Boston, the ships in the har- 
 bour, in token of the deepest mourning, suspended their colours 
 half-mast high; the bells were rung muffled; and the obnox- 
 ious act, with a death's head in front of it, with the motto— 
 
 " THE FOLLY OF ENGLAND AND THE RUIN OF AMERICA," Was Carri- 
 ed in solemn procession about the streets. The discontents 
 soon spread throughout the colonies, and the opposition became 
 general and determined; the spirit of the people gave a tone 
 to the colonial assemblies, and bold and decided resolutions 
 were adopted against the iniquitous scheme of parliamentary 
 taxation. Virginia took the lead, and on the 28th of May, 
 1765, Patrick Henry introduced his celebrated resolutions in 
 the house of burgesses, which declared that the inhabitants of 
 that colony were entitled to, and had possessed and enjoyed all 
 the rights, liberties and privileges of the people of Great Brit- 
 ain ; that the general assembly of the colony had always exer- 
 cised and alone possessed the power to levy taxes and imposts 
 on the inhabitants of the colony, and that they "were not 
 bound to yield obedience to any law or ordinance whatsoever, 
 designed to impose any taxation whatever upon them other 
 than the law and ordinances of the general assembly." So 
 bold and unexpected wefe these resolutions, that whilst they 
 were reading, one of the members cried out "treason! treason!" 1 
 These resolutions were communicated to all the colonies, 
 and the spirit they breathed spread from one legislature to ano- 
 ther, and their sentiments were reiterated in resolutions adopt- 
 ed by the legislatures and freemen in public meetings. Com- 
 mittees were appointed, by the assemblies of the colonies, to 
 correspond with each other, and to meet for consultation; the 
 object of which was to secure harmony of feeling and concert 
 of action. These measures had a very happy effect ; in the 
 mean time, the press teemed with constant publications, vindi- 
 cating the rights of the colonies; and many of them were of 
 a highly inflammatory character, calculated to raise Ihe pub 
 
Mil A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 lie mind to the highest pitch. The pulpit also, particularly in 
 New-England, laboured in the same cause with great zeal and 
 effect; the flame of liberty kindled from breast to breast, and 
 spread from province to province, until the conflagration be- 
 came general. The spirit of opposition ran so high as to break 
 out into acts of tumult and disorder. In Boston the effigy of 
 Mr. Oliver, the stamp-master, was burnt, and his house assail- 
 ed, partly demolished, and his furniture destroyed; and soon 
 after, the house of William Storer, deputy-register of the court 
 of admiralty, was attacked, and the books and files of the court 
 destroyed ; and the house of Benjamin Hallowell, comptroller of 
 the customs, shared the same fate. These outrages were follow- 
 ed by a more bold and daring attack upon the dwelling of Mr. 
 Hutchinson, lieutenant-governor of the province; he was oblig- 
 ed to flee to save his life, and his house was entirely demolished, 
 except the walls and every thing in it destroyed or carried off. 
 Similar outrages were committed in other places. In Connec- 
 ticut, Mr. Ingersoll, the stamp officer, was burnt in effigy in 
 many towns; and whilst he was proceeding from New-Haven 
 to Hartford, where the assembly was in session, he was pursu- 
 ed and overtaken by a large concourse of people, some from 
 more than thirty miles, and compelled to resign his office, which 
 was followed by three hearty cheers of liberty and property. 
 This took place at Wethersfield, from whence the people, who 
 were headed by militia officers, proceeded to Hartford, where 
 Mr. Ingersoll was compelled to read his resignation in the hear- 
 ing of the assembly, which was succeeded by loud acclama- 
 tions of liberty and property. In New-York the stamp officer 
 was compelled to resign, and Lieutenant Governor Colden was 
 burnt in effigy, with a stamp-bill in his hand, suspended from 
 his own coach, and the whole was consumed together. 
 
 In the southern colonies, the public feeling did not lead to 
 the same excesses; but in all of them, means were found to 
 compel the stamp officers to resign; and in all the colonies the 
 assemblies adopted resolutions in opposition to the stamp act, 
 although in many of them the royal governors prorogued and 
 attempted to stop their proceedings. The members of the 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. IX 
 
 colonial assemblies were animated and encouraged by the peo- 
 ple, who, in most of the towns, instructed them to oppose the 
 stamp act. But the most important measure to unite the colo- 
 nies and give energy and effect to their opposition, was con- 
 vening a continental congress, consisting of deputies appointed 
 by each colony. This measure was first proposed by the 
 assembly of Massachusetts. The meeting was appointed to 
 be holden in New- York, in October, 1765. All the colonies, 
 except New-Hampshire, Virginia, North-Carolina, and Geor- 
 gia, sent deputies; the three last of these colonies - were pre- 
 vented by their governors, and the first excused itself on ac- 
 count of its peculiar situation. The congress, after mature 
 deliberation, adopted a declaration of rights, and a statement 
 of the grievances of the colonies, and asserted in the strongest 
 terms, their exemption from all taxes not imposed by their own 
 representatives. It also prepared a petition to the house of 
 commons. 
 
 As the first of November, the time when the stamp act was 
 to go into operation, approached, public feeling became still 
 stronger and was exerted to the utmost to prevent the execu- 
 tion of the law. In New- York, ten boxes of stamps which had 
 arrived there for Connecticut, were seized by the populace 
 and burned ; and in other ports, the masters of vessels, which 
 brought out stamps, were compelled to return with their de- 
 testable cargoes or deliver them up to the people to be destroy- 
 ed. In Boston, and many of the principal towns, the first of 
 November was kept as a day of mourning and deep distress: 
 all the shops were shut, the bells were tolled muffled, and the 
 effigies of the authors and abettors of the act were carried in 
 procession through the streets, and then torn to pieces and con- 
 sumed by the flames. 
 
 The lawyers of the supreme court of New-Jersey resolved 
 that they would not purchase the stamps in their professional 
 business, and that they would relinquish their practice as a* 
 sacrifice to the public good ; and the principal merchants in 
 the colonies, and great numbers of other classes of the inha- 
 bitants, entered into solemn engagements not only to refuse to 
 2 
 
X A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 use the stamps, but also not to import any more goods from 
 Great Britain until the stamp act should he repealed. Asso- 
 ciations were formed, called the " Sons of Liberty,", the object 
 of which was. to assist and protect with force, if necessary, 
 every one who might be in danger from his resistance or oppo- 
 sition to the stamp act. This bold association originated in 
 New- York, and prevailed throughout New-England, and, had 
 not the act been repealed, must have led to civil war. The 
 restrictive measures produced distress and tumults in England: 
 large numbers of the manufacturers being thrown out of em- 
 ployment, and more than forty thousand, with black flags, 
 appeared in the streets in London, and surrounded the royal 
 palace and parliament house. Fortunately a change of minis- 
 try took place, in consequence of what was called the regency 
 bill, and Lord Grenville was succeeded by the Marquis of 
 Rockingham, as first lord of the treasury, and the duke of 
 Grafton and General Conway were appointed secretaries of 
 state. In January the parliament met; the affairs of America 
 occupied the principal attention, and the first talents of the 
 house were engaged in the discussion. Mr. Pitt, who had been 
 confined to his bed by sickness, when the stamp act was pass- 
 ed, now came forward as the great champion of the rights of 
 the Americans, and with his manly and all-powerful eloquence, 
 opposed the unjust, unconstitutional and dangerous measures; 
 he even justified the Americans in their resistance of an act of 
 tyranny and oppression. After a long and animated discus- 
 sion, the act was repealed, accompanied, however, with a dec- 
 laration, " that the king and parliament had, and of right ought 
 to have, full power and authority to make laws and statutes of 
 sufficient force to bind the colonies, and his majesty's subjects 
 in them, in all cases whatsoever.''' 1 An act of indemnity was also 
 passsed. 
 
 The repeal of the obnoxious act occasioned universal joy, 
 both in Great Britain and America; the ships in the Thames 
 displayed their colours, and the whole city of London was illu- 
 minated ; and in the colonies, notwithstanding the declaratory 
 *ct, asserting the principle of taxation, the joy and rejoicings 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XI 
 
 were universal ; the non-importation resolutions were rescind- 
 ed; animosities, ill-treatment, and every thing past, were for- 
 gotten, and commercial intercourse with Great Britain was 
 resumed with greater activity than ever before had been wit- 
 nessed. The colonies hoped and believed, that harmony would 
 now be restored, and did every thing in their power to promote 
 this desirable object. But the officers of the crown, the min- 
 ions of power, and the expectants of place, kept up a corres- 
 pondence with the officers of the British government at home, 
 and attempted to promote their own selfish views by misrepre- 
 senting their countrymen. Governor Bernard of Massachu- 
 setts, was the head of this party, which contributed so much 
 to breed difficulties and bring matters to a crisis. Notwith- 
 standing that the declaratory act still hung over the heads of 
 the colonies, like a portentous cloud, it was not generally ex- 
 pected that the British government would very soon make ano- 
 ther so dangerous an experiment. But these reasonable expect- 
 ations, however, soon proved to be fallacious, and all reliance 
 on the justice or liberality of Britain, were found to be deceptive 
 and dangerous. Notwithstanding the distraction into which 
 the colonies had been thrown, by the stamp act, within a few 
 months after its repeal, and before the wounds it had occasion- 
 ed had had time to heal, the chancellor of the exchequer, 
 Charles Townsend, came forward with a new scheme of tax- 
 ing America, and was so sanguine in his views, that he pledged 
 his character for the success of the project. The new reve- 
 nue scheme was, to take off the duties on teas, which were 
 paid in Great Britain, and to levy three pence per pound on 
 all that was purchased in America, and also a duty on paper, 
 glass and several other articles. A board of customs was esta- 
 blished, and commissioners appointed to set in Boston to col- 
 lect the duties ; and the custom-officers were to be paid from 
 the revenue thus raised; and the governor, judges of the supe- 
 rior court, and other officers in Massachusetts, who had hither- 
 to been dependant for their salaries on the assembly, to render 
 them independent of the people, and more devoted to Great 
 Britain, were also to be paid from these revenues. And to car- 
 
Xll A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 ry the iniquitous system into effect (as unjust laws can only be 
 enforced by unjust means,) the powers of the court of admiralty 
 were greatly extended, so as to deprive the people of trial by 
 jury in prosecutions for violating the revenue laws. Writs of 
 Assistance, as they were called, issued by the governor, or any 
 officer of the revenue, authorised searching the house of the 
 most respectable inhabitant in the province, on suspicion of the 
 concealment of contraband or smuggled goods. 
 
 When intelligence of these new parliamentary regulations 
 reached America, they occasioned universal astonishment, and 
 revived all the excitement and alarm which prevailed during 
 the stamp act. In the minds of reflecting men they were re- 
 garded as more dangerous than that obnoxious act, as an indi- 
 rect and disguised system of taxation had a more certain and 
 fatal tendency to undermine the liberties and enslave the peo- 
 ple, than direct taxes. The colonies, assailed by the same inju- 
 ries, had recourse to the former measures oi complaint and sup- 
 plication ; but their petitions were not even read, and their re- 
 monstrances treated with contempt, thus adding insult to injus- 
 tice. These accumulated injuries and indignities aroused the 
 fears and spirit of the colonies; and a circular letter, address- 
 ed to the other colonies, by the assembly of Massachusetts, con- 
 tributed to diffuse the flame and lead to concert of action. — 
 This letter was dated the 11th of February, 1768, and the sen- 
 timents it contained were reiterated by most of the colonial 
 assemblies. From the bold and determined conduct of the 
 assembly of Massachusetts, it was prorogued by the governor. 
 Another assembly was convened in May following, to which 
 the governor, in his first communication, insolently demanded 
 of them, as required by the British Secretary of State, to re- 
 scind the resolutions of the preceding assembly, which led to 
 the circular letter, and intimated that unless they complied im- 
 mediately they would be dissolved at once. But the assembly 
 acted with a firmness which became the defenders of liberty; 
 and instead of complying with this haughty mandate, petition- 
 ed the king for the removal of the royal governor, and charged 
 upon him a long catalogue of crimes. The governor, exasper- 
 
WHICH LED TO THE A MERICAN REVOLUTION. xill 
 
 ated at their conduct, immediately dissolved the mutinous as- 
 sembly, and applied to the commander in chief of the king's 
 troops, then in New- York, to have several additional regiments 
 sent to Boston. Alarmed at these circumstances, the inhabit- 
 ants of Boston beseeched the governor to convene another as- 
 sembly; but he treated their request with contempt. The 
 crisis required something to be done, without delay, and accord- 
 ingly letters were written to every town in the colony requesting 
 the appointment of delegates to meet in convention at Boston, 
 before the arrival of the troops. Delegates from ninety-six 
 towns met on the *22d of September. The governor instantly 
 sent them an angry message, commanding them to disperse, 
 threatening, in case of refusal, that they would suffer the conse- 
 quence of their temerity. The convention, however, was not 
 frightened into submission, but gave their reasons for convening, 
 continued their deliberations, and prepared a petition to theking. 
 
 On the first of October, the troops arrived and landed; and, 
 sword in hand, paraded through the streets of Boston, which 
 were filled with vast crowds, who with sullen silence, denoting 
 the deepest resentment, witnessed this, the first act in the great 
 and bloody drama about to be performed. No tumult or resist- 
 ance, however, ensued, notwithstanding the troops were quar- 
 tered in the houses of the inhabitants. The assembly met in May, 
 1769, and immediately adopted several spirited resolutions; 
 that the placing an armed force where the legislature was con- 
 vened, to overawe their deliberations, was a breach of privilege, 
 and that the quartering of troops on the inhabitants, in time of 
 peace, was illegal, and a violation of the rights and liberties of 
 British subjects. 
 
 A standing army was now stationed in the capital of Massachu- 
 setts, for the avowed object of coercing the inhabitants into sub- 
 mission; their commerce fettered, their characters traduced, 
 the assembly prevented from meeting, and the petitions of all 
 classes to have the assembly convened, treated with contempt 
 by an insolent governor, who threatened to augment the troops, 
 and enforce at all hazards, his arbitrary and tyrannical mea- 
 sures i it cannot be surprising that the fears and exasperations of 
 
xiv A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 the people exceeded what had ever been witnessed before. At 
 this alarming conjuncture, something must be done, and there 
 was no other alternative but submission or resistance, as petitions 
 had been treated with such contempt, that to memorialize any 
 branch of the British government would be equivalent to submis- 
 sion; and there were but two ways of resistance, either an ap- 
 peal to the sword, or an entire suspension of all commercial 
 intercourse with Great Britain, which, as was said by Mr. Pitt in 
 his speech, furnished the means whereby Britain had carried 
 on the war with France, and which if continued, would afford 
 the means of their own oppression. As all the colonies were 
 involved in one common danger, they readily entered into the 
 most solemn engagements, that no British or In'dia goods should 
 be imported, except a few specified articles of necessary use. 
 The effects of these arrangements were soon felt in England, 
 and produced clamors, and even tumults in some parts of the 
 kingdom. But the partizans of the crown in America, endea- 
 vored by their correspondence, to induce the ministry to perse- 
 vere in their oppressive measures, and represented in the 
 strongest terms, that the interruption of commerce was only an 
 effort of desperation, which could not last long. They advised 
 the ministry to purchase large quantities of goods, designed for 
 the American market, and also to allow the merchants engaged 
 in the American trade, a premium equal to the profits of their 
 stock in business. "If these measures are adopted," said Mr. 
 Oliver, secretary in Massachusetts, in one of his letters, "the 
 game will soon be up with my countrymen." 
 
 The assembly which convened at Boston in May, set several 
 weeks without doing any business, as they refused to act as long 
 as an armed force was quartered in the town, and surrounded 
 the house where they were in session; they were finally ad- 
 journed to Cambridge. They sent several messages to the go- 
 vernor to have the troops removed, but after evading the mat- 
 ter for some time, he declared he had no authority over the 
 king's troops; thus admitting that the military was above the 
 civil power in the province. Governor Bernard sent a provo- 
 king message, stating the expenditures, of quartering the troops 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XV 
 
 on the town, and requesting that provision be made for the pay- 
 ment of the same, and also for their future support; the a«sem- 
 bly were thus called on to maintain the instruments by which 
 they were to be oppressed and enslaved. But instead of com- 
 plying with this request, they passed several spirited resolu- 
 tions, censuring the conduct of the governor and Gen. Gage, 
 for their rash and oppressive measures, their wanton violations 
 of the constitution, the introduction of a standing army in time 
 of peace, and their encroachments on the liberties of the citi- 
 zens and of the province. The governor had received an order 
 to repair to England, and lay before the king the state of the 
 colony; which he communicated to the assembly, with a re- 
 quest that his salary might be continued during his absence, as 
 his office would remain. But the assembly informed him in 
 decided terms, that they could not comply with either of his 
 requests. On receiving this answer, he immediately, after a 
 short, angry, and threatening speech, prorogued the legislature. 
 He soon after set sail for Europe, then little thinking that he 
 should never return to a country that, by his violent temper and 
 arbitrary conduct, he had brought to the brink of civil war. — 
 His reception at court convinced the Americans of the truth 
 of what they feared, that the governor had been sent for, as a 
 mischievous emissary, rather than for an impartial inquiry into 
 
 the real situation of the province, or an investigation of his 
 own conduct. 
 
 Thomas Hutchinson, the lieutenant-governor, was appointed 
 to succeed Governor Bernard. Hutchinson was a native of 
 Boston, and had run a career of popularity; whilst, however, 
 he was courting the people at home, he was not less assiduous in 
 ingratiating himself into the favour of the British government, 
 by misrepresenting his countrymen. He was artful and plausi- 
 ble, and possessed of popular talents; but was insidious, dark, 
 intriguing and ambitious; and the extreme of avarice marked 
 every feature of his character. His appointment was announ- 
 ced at the close of the year 1769. He immediately assumed 
 a more haughty tone, and aimed at more high handed measures 
 than his predecessor, and commenced his administration by in- 
 
XVI A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 forming the assembly that he was independent of them and the 
 people, as his majesty had made provision for his salary. Se- 
 cure of the favour of his sovereign, he treated the people and 
 the assembly with contempt, and answered their repeated solici- 
 tations to remove the troops from the capital, by withdrawing 
 the garrison from a strong fortress in the harbour of Boston, who 
 were in the pay of the province, and replacing them by two 
 regiments of the king's troops.. The ebullitions, of popular 
 feeling, were so high as to occasion great alarm with the lead- 
 ing patriots, that it would break out into acts of violence, which 
 might injure the cause of the people. The miserable minions 
 of power in America, endeavoured to promote this result, and 
 openly avowed, "that the only method to restore tranquility, 
 was to take off the original incendiaries, whose writings had in- 
 stilled the poison of sedition into the people." James Otis, the 
 most active, bold and influential patriot of the day, having pub- 
 lished under his proper signature, some severe strictures on the 
 conduct of the officers of the crown, was assaulted in a public 
 room, by a band of hired ruffians, with swords and bludgeons ; 
 and being covered with wounds, was left for dead. The as- 
 sassins made their escape, and took refuge on board the king's 
 ships in the harbour. Mr. Otis survived, but the lamp of his 
 understanding which had glowed with such effulgence, was 
 overcast with clouds and darkness. Mr. John Adams says that 
 he "laid the foundation of the American revolution, with an 
 energy, and with those masterly talents which no other man 
 possessed;" and he is justly considered as the first martyr to 
 American liberty. 
 
 The insults which the inhabitants constantly experienced, 
 from the soldiers, increased their animosity towards them to 
 such a degree, as to lead to violence and blood-shed. On the 
 2d of JVIarch, 1770, an affray took place between a party of sol- 
 diers of the 29th regiment, and some rope-makers, in front of 
 Mr. Gray's rope-walk. This was followed by a more alarming 
 outrage on the 5th; the indignant populace pressed upon and 
 insulted the soldiers, while under arms, and assailed them with 
 clubs, sticks and snow-balls, covering stones. Being dared to 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. xvil 
 
 tire by the mob, six of the soldiers discharged their muskets, 
 which killed three of the citizens, and wounded five others. 
 The effect of this was electric : the town was instantly in com- 
 motion, and the mass of the people were so exasperated, that 
 it required the utmost exertions to prevent their rallying and 
 driving the British myrmidons out of town; and nothing but 
 an assurance that the troops should be withdrawn, prevented 
 this resort to force. The captain of the party and eight men 
 were brought to trial; two of them were found guilty; the 
 captain and the other men were acquitted. A general meet- 
 ing of the inhabitants was immediately assembled in Faneuil 
 Hall, who unanimously resolved that no armed force should be 
 suffered longer to reside in the capital ; and a committee was 
 appointed to wait on the governor, and request the immediate 
 removal of the troops. The governor refused to act, under 
 pretence of want of authority; but Col. Dalrymple, alarmed 
 at the state of things, proposed to withdraw the 29th regiment, 
 which was more culpable than any other; but he was informed 
 that not a soldier should be left in town ; he was reluctantly 
 compelled to comply, and within four days not a Red-coat re- 
 mained. This tragical affair produced the deepest impression? 
 on the minds of the people: and the anniversary of the mas- 
 sacre of the 5th of March, 1770, was commemorated for many 
 years, and orations delivered, which unfolded the blessings 
 of civil liberty, the horrors of slavery, the dangers of standing 
 armies, and the rights of the colonies. These annual orations 
 administered fuel to the fire of liberty, and kept it burning 
 with an incessant flame, and in no small degree promoted the 
 cause of the colonies, in a manner that served to give a deep- 
 er glow to the flame of liberty. In the spring of 1773, the 
 schooner Gaspee was stationed at Providence, to prevent smug- 
 gling; and the conduct of the commander having exasperated 
 the inhabitants, two hundred men entered onboard the schoo- 
 ner at night, and compelled the captain and crew to go ashore, 
 then set fire to the vessel. The government offered a reward 
 of five hundred pounds, for the apprehension of any of the per 
 sons engaged in thiff outrage; but such was the spirit and una- 
 3 
 
xViii A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 nimitv of the people, that this pecuniary inducement produced 
 no effect, and the authors of the outrage could not be discover- 
 ed. About this period, the letters of Governor Hutchinson 
 and Mr. Oliver, to their friends in England, urging the govern- 
 ment to adopt more decisive and vigorous measures, to coerce 
 the colonies" into submission, were discovered and sent back to 
 America by Dr. Franklin, which, being published by the assem- 
 bly of Massachusetts, greatly contributed to inflame the public 
 mind, and exasperate the people against these officers of the 
 crown, who were justly charged with having shamefully be- 
 trayed their trust and the people, whose rights it was their du- 
 ty vigilantly to guard. Whilst the other duties were repealed, 
 that on tea was retained, for the sole and avowed object of main- 
 taining the power, which parliament had asserted, of collecting 
 a revenue in America. The ministerial scheme was cunning 
 and artful; but did not, in the least degree, deceive the vigi- 
 lance of the Americans. The object was to cheat the colonies 
 out of their rights, by collecting an indirect, imperceptible du- 
 ty, little more than nominal in amount, which, however, if ac- 
 quiesced in, would have been an admission of the principle or right 
 of Britain to raise a revenue in America. It was an attempt to 
 obtain, covertly and by fraud, what they had attempted, but 
 failed to obtain openly by force. In the first place, measures 
 were adopted, openly and explicitly, for taxing the colonies, 
 the duties to be paid directly by the consumer; but being un- 
 able to enforce this act, it was repealed, accompanied with a 
 declaration of the right of parliament to tax the Americans in 
 all cases whatsoever. This naked assertion of a right, when 
 the application of it had been attempted and abandoned, did 
 not give the Americans much concern: they would not have 
 cared, if the British had kept that assertion of a right to do 
 wrong on their statute-book, as long as the two countries exist- 
 ed, provided they had not attempted to exercise their assumed 
 right. But the advocates of American taxation seemed to be 
 sensible, that the bare assertion of a right, after an unsuccess* 
 ful attempt to enforce it, would amount to but little, and that 
 conclusions, obviously following the abandonment of the first 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XIX 
 
 attempt to tax the Americans, would be left in their full force. 
 Under the circumstances in which the two countries were pla- 
 ced, therefore, the right must be enforced, or it must be con- 
 sidered as virtually abandoned. But this had been once attempt- 
 ed without success; a more ingenious mode, therefore, must be 
 devised, or one leas likely to give alarm to the colonies. The 
 stamp duties were a direct tax, as the duties constituted the en- 
 tire value of the sum paid; but a trifling impost would not be 
 perceived, as the duty would scarcely make any sensible differ- 
 ence in the price of the article. The bitter pill, which it was 
 intended to make the colonies swallow, was gilded with sugar. 
 The duty was more artfully disguised, than a simple impost.' 
 It was, in fact, no additional burden on the consumers of tea, it 
 being only a different mode of collecting the duty which had 
 before been paid; yet this alteration of the mode involved the 
 right and power of parliament to establish a revenue system in 
 America. According to the formeiN-egulations, the teas of the 
 India Company were first brought to England, where a duty 
 was paid before they were sent to the colonies. The scheme 
 was merely to change the place and mode of collecting the du- 
 ty; it was to be paid in America, instead of England ; for which 
 purpose custom regulations were established, and officers ap- 
 pointed. A duty of three pence on a pound of tea, would not 
 be felt by the people, and this, or rather a greater duty, had 
 been paid before in England; so that, instead of the burdens of 
 the people being increased, they were rather lightened by this 
 new regulation. So artfully disguised was this scheme. It is 
 a maxim with many politicians, and too generally correct, that 
 the people will not be alarmed or excited by any principle, how- 
 ever it may be fraught with danger; that they must feci and 
 suffer, before their fears will arouse them into action. But this 
 maxim did not hold true with the Americans; they saw the 
 danger, and resolved to resist, at the hazard of their lives, a 
 principle, calculated to undermine the foundation of their liber- 
 ties; although its operation at the time was not felt, in the 
 slightest degree. The resistance of the Americans to the 
 scheme of collecting a duty on tea in America, instead ofEng- 
 
vx A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 land, was the resistance of the principle which that scheme in- 
 volved, solely; as no additional burden was thereby imposed 
 on the people. It is believed that this is the only instance in 
 history, of an entire people being roused to resistance, from mea- 
 sures which were not burdensome or oppressive in their imme- 
 diate operations, and dangerous only from the principle on which 
 they were founded. This consideration affords the highest 
 evidence of the intelligence of the Americans, as well as of 
 their extreme jealousy and vigilance, in guarding their rights. 
 That the experienced politician should foresee the ultimate de- 
 sign and tendency of measures, not immediately oppressive, is 
 natural enough; but that the common people, or rather that 
 the entire population of a country should be aroused to resist- 
 ance, on account of measures not burdensome or oppressive, 
 but dangerous only from the principle on which they were 
 founded, is unparalleled. It is not, however, to be supposed 
 that the colonists would have been so alarmed and aroused to 
 such a spirit of resistance, by the new regulations as to tea, had 
 it not been for the previous measures of the parent country, 
 evincing, in the clearest manner, a settled design to exercise 
 the power of taxation over them. Tbey considered the new 
 regulations as to tea, as an artful and disguised revenue system, 
 although it imposed no additional duty, and they were deter- 
 mined not to be cheated out of their liberties, as they had be- 
 fore resolved not to be frightened out of them. 
 
 Measures were immediately adopted to prevent the introduc- 
 tion of the tea into the country, so as to avoid the payment of 
 the duty; and such was the strength and unanimity of public 
 opinion, that without the aid of law, or rather in opposition 
 to law, they were enabled to render their measures efficient, 
 solely by the force of public sentiment, although measures of 
 all others the most difficult to enforce, as interfering both with 
 the interests and the established habits of the people. In most 
 of the towns from New-Hampshire to Georgia, the people as- 
 sembled and resolved to discontinue the use of tea, which was 
 now regarded as an herb, (however agreeable as a beverage,) 
 noxious to the political constitution. In the large commercial 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. xxi 
 
 towns, regulations were adopted to prevent the landing of tea^ 
 committees were appointed to inspect merchant's books, pro- 
 pose tests, and to make use of other means to defeat the de- 
 signs of Britain. Where it could be done, the consignees of 
 the teas, were persuaded or compelled to resign, or to bind 
 themselves not to act in that capacity. The cargo sent to 
 South-Carolina, was stored, the consignees being constrained 
 to enter into an engagement not to offer any for sale; and in 
 many of the colonies, the ships were compelled to return with- 
 out discharging their cargoes. So vigorously were these mea- 
 sures enforced, that during one year, eighty-five pounds was the 
 whole amount of duties received. The teas consumed in the 
 colonies, were principally smuggled into the country, by the 
 Dutch and French, who were favored by the inhabitants in 
 evading the revenue laws. During the four or five years that 
 the new system had been in existence, very trifling quantities 
 of teas had been introduced into the colonies, and instead of 
 the restrictive measures being relaxed as was expected in Eng- 
 land, they increased in vigor and efficacy, and the quantity of 
 tea introduced had constantly diminished. 
 
 As had been the case with other matters, of difference be- 
 tween the two countries, the principal struggle, growing out 
 of the regulations as to tea, occurred at Boston. The other 
 provinces had avoided the alternative which was reserved for 
 this, of either suffering the teas to be disposed of, or to destroy 
 them, by violent means. Knowing the spirit of the inhabitants 
 of Boston, the India Company had been more cautious as to this 
 cargoes shipped for that port, than those sent to the other pro- 
 vinces; and the zeal of Governor Hutchinson and the other of- 
 ficers of the crown there, greatly surpassed that of the crown 
 officers in the other colonies, and was calculated to frustrate 
 the measures of the inhabitants. The tea ships destined to 
 Boston, were all consigned to the sons, cousins, ar.d persons who 
 were the merest tools of Governor Hutchinson. When called 
 on to resign, the only answer they would give was, " that it 
 was not in their power." As the consignees could not be in- 
 duced or frightened to resign, the next plan was, to compel the 
 
xxii A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 vessels to return without landing their detestable cargoes; but 
 the collector refused to give a clearance without the vessels 
 were discharged of dutiable articles, and the governor refused 
 to give a pass for the vessels, until they were properly qualifi- 
 ed from the custom house; and to guard against the vessels 
 being taken possession of, and conducted out of the harbour, 
 the governor ordered Admiral Montague, who commanded the 
 naval force, to keep a vigilant look out, and to suffer no vessel, 
 coasters excepted, to pass the fortress from the town, without a 
 pass signed by himself. The rigorous adherence to these mea- 
 sures, afforded great satisfaction to the governor and his min- 
 ions, and all the British party; they flattered themselves that 
 the " Sons of Liberty," after all their clamor, resolutions and 
 schemes to resist the tea system, were out-managed, and that 
 it would be impossible for them to prevent the landing and sale 
 of the obnoxious cargoes. Their measures had been planned 
 so wisely, and their execution was entrusted to agents of such 
 known fidelity to the crown, and who were under the immedi- 
 ate influence and control of the governor, they thought there 
 was not a loop-hole whereby the rebellious Americans could 
 escape paying the hateful tax. They did not even dream that 
 an attempt would be made to destroy or throw overboard the 
 offensive article, which covered a tribute to Britain; for if they 
 had, the vessels would have been guarded. The governor, 
 after all he had witnessed and experienced, judging rather 
 from his feelings than his knowledge, was entirely ignorant of 
 public sentiment, and of the spirit of the people; he had no 
 idea that they had determined to resist the obnoxious measure, 
 at every hazard, even that of life. Nothing short of this bold 
 step, could prevent the deep laid scheme, against the liberties 
 of the country from succeeding. It had been rendered impos- 
 sible that the vessels should return with their cargoes; and to 
 suffer the tea to be landed and trust to the spirit and unanimity 
 of the inhabitants not to purchase it, would have been to yield 
 the point; for a small portion of the citizens were in favor of 
 the British, and would of course consume the article, and by 
 fair means or foul, it would have been distributed among others. 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XXlU 
 
 And it would have been equally impracticable to prevent the 
 tea from being landed; the most unwearied watching day and 
 night, could not prevent this, as it might be conveyed ashore, 
 by small quantities in boats in the night season, and at such 
 places to escape the utmost vigilance. Every other measure 
 had been attempted without success; the consignees had been 
 urged to decline the commission, and a numerous public meet- 
 ing of the citizens had been held, who presented a remonstrance 
 to the governor, and urged him to order back the ships with- 
 out suffering any part of their cargoes to be landed. But his 
 answer satisfied them that he was the adviser of the measure) 
 and determined to carry it into execution. The parties were 
 at issue on the great question on which the liberties of the 
 country hung suspended; whether Great Britain should exer- 
 cise the power of taxing the Americans in any way, or not. 
 This question depended on the landing of a few cargoes of tea, 
 which had become contaminated with an unconstitutional tax. 
 The colonists were determined that they would not pay the tax, 
 and the British party were determined to carry into effect the 
 tea regulation, and to frustrate the plans of the Americans. 
 Both parties had taken their measures, and the British party 
 were confident of success; the contest was advancing to a cri- 
 sis; alarm and dismay prevailed; the deepest anxiety was de- 
 picted in every countenance ; had an invading army been in 
 the neighborhood, threatening to sack the town, or had the pes- 
 tilence which walks in darkness, ravaged its pavilions, greater 
 consternation could not have prevailed ; greater gloom could 
 not overspread the town, or stronger indications been exhibit- 
 ed, of a pending event big with the fate of three millions of 
 people. During this deep and awful suspense, a report was 
 started, which spread with the rapidity of lightning through 
 the town, that Admiral Montague was about to seize the ships 
 and dispose of their cargoes, at public auction, within twenty- 
 four hours; which was believed to be a cunning device of 
 Hutchinson, as this would as effectually have secured the du- 
 ties, as if the teas had been sold at the stores of the consignees. 
 This rumor was like an electric shock; leaving their employ 
 
xxiv A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 mcnts, the people rushed into the streets, and with amazed and 
 terrified countenances, every one seemed to say, what shall we 
 do to prevent the consummation in so bold and daring a man- 
 ner, of this iniquitous scheme. In a few moments, as if from 
 an instinctive impulse, a vast crowd repaired to one of the 
 most spacious churches in Boston, and organised themselves in- 
 to a public meeting. Previously to taking any other step, a 
 message was sent to the governor and the consignees, who with 
 difficulty could be found, as they were afraid to encounter 
 eren the looks of an indignant and injured people. No satis- 
 factory answers were returned; hut instead of complying with 
 their wishes, whilst the assembled multitude were quietly, not- 
 withstanding the excitement which prevailed, consulting on 
 their critical situation, and the measures proper to be adopted, 
 the sheriff entered with an order from the governor, styling 
 them an illegal and seditious assembly, and ordering them im- 
 mediately to disperse. But he did not bring with him the pos- 
 see comitatus, as the power of the county was already assembled, 
 and it was that, the sheriff was ordered to disperse: this man- 
 date was treated with deserved contempt and the sheriff hissed 
 out of the house, mortified and chagrined, and a confused mur- 
 mur followed not only in the house but among the vast multi- 
 tude without; but soon order was restored, and the meeting 
 adjourned, without adopting any vote or resolution. The lea- 
 ders probably supposed that such a meeting was not the place 
 to discuss and devise measures to meet the crisis. 
 
 The bold measure was now conceived, and immediately pro- 1 
 posed for execution, which surprised and agitated the twoj 
 countries, and hurried on that memorable revolution which 
 made them " Enemies in war, and in peace friends." The suc- 
 cess of it, as well as the danger attending it, required secrecy 
 and dispatch. It has never been known with certainty, eithei 
 who contrived or executed this bold expedient: but there is no 
 reason to doubt, but that Mr. Samuel Adams and many/of the 
 leaders in the political affairs of the day, were i(s contrivers, 
 and it is known that the hall of council was in the back room 
 <of Edes & Gill's printing office, at the corner of the alley lead- 
 

WHICH LED TO THF AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XXV 
 
 trig from Court-Street to Brattle-Street Church. It is a sin- 
 gular oircumstance, that this daring and desperate measure, 
 for the maintenance of the liberties of the country, should have 
 been counselled and contrived in an editorial closet of a news- 
 paper, which was one of the organs of the public voice, and a 
 vigilant sentinel of the liberties of the people. Since this pe- 
 riod many political schemes have originated, in the " back 
 rooms" of printing offices, but in general of a very different 
 character. 
 
 In a few hours after the adjournment of the public meeting, 
 the bold measure, on the success of which the great question 
 of taxation hung suspended, was contrived, matured and ripelfi- 
 ed for execution ; and the public were surprised with the sudden 
 appearance in the streets, of a large number of savages, of 
 persons disguised, clad, and every way counterfeiting the abo- 
 rigines of the country; armed with a tomahawk in one hand, 
 and a club over the shoulder, who, in a silent and solemn man- 
 ner, not a voice being heard, marched in Indian rile, through 
 the streets amidst a crowd of astonished spectators, who knew 
 not what to think of so unexpected and strange an exhibition ; 
 and its novelty and the surprise which it occasioned, may have 
 prevented any steps being taken to oppose their design. The 
 Indians, whilst strongly attached to tobacco, in this instance at 
 least appeared to have had a mortal antipathy to tea; and as 
 though attracted by its noxious qualities, they proceeded direct- 
 ly towards the wharves where the tea ships lay; boarded them, 
 demanded the keys, and without the least hesitation or delay 
 knocked open the chests and emptied their contents, duties and 
 all into the ocean, comprising several thousand weight of the 
 finest teas. The deed was done in the face of the world, and 
 although surrounded by the king's ships, no opposition was made 
 or attempted ; all was silence and amazement. Thus the teas 
 which were designed as a means of extorting tribute from the 
 Americans, became an offering to the "spirits of the vasty 
 deep," and a sacrifice to the liberties of the country. The 
 "Indians" having effected their object, shewed no marks of 
 triumph; no savage warwhoop was heard; nor did they com- 
 4 
 
XXVl A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 mit any other violence or disorder, but in the same silent, 
 solemn and orderly manner, marched back through the town, 
 followed by a vast crowd. No movements on the part of the- 
 government, or disturbance by the people, followed this event; 
 and it was observed at the time, that the stillest night succeed- 
 ed, which Boston had enjoyed for several months. 
 
 No persons assisted the savages, in the destruction of the tea, 
 except some boys or young men, who had assembled on the oc- 
 casion, and voluntarily took a part in what was going on; one of 
 these youths collected the tea which fell into his own shoes and 
 those of several of his companions, put it in a phial and sealed 
 it up ; which is now in his possession, containing the same ob- 
 noxious tea, which in this instance was considered as more dan- 
 gerous to the political health and constitution of the people, 
 even than strong drink. The number of the savages manu- 
 factured for the occasion, has been variously estimated, from 
 sixty to eighty: although several persons have been mentioned 
 as among the number, none of them have ever been known 
 with certainty; there are many and obvious reasons, why secre- 
 cy then, and concealment since, were necessary. Not any of 
 those who it has been confidently asserted were of the party, 
 have admitted the fact except some of the boys. Nearly all 
 of the disguised persons have left this scene of strife, and their 
 secret has died with them; and what few remain, if any, will 
 probably be as prudent as those who have gone before them, 
 and like them will suffer their knowledge to be buried with 
 them, so that the great secret will shortly be beyond the reach 
 of human research. The success of this bold and daring mea- 
 sure, astonished Governor Hutchinson and the British party, 
 and seemed to convince him, that the " Sons of Liberty" were 
 not quite so contemptible as he had represented them in his 
 letters to the ministry; and it even astonished the whigs, in the 
 other colonies, and contributed to fan the flames of liberty, and 
 give them a deeper glow, and more intense heat. 
 
 When the intelligence of this event reached England, accom-. 
 panied with all the exaggeration and colouring which Hutchin- 
 son could give to it, it produced the utmost excitement, and in- 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. xxvii 
 
 dignation with the ministerial party, and even the opponents of 
 the American revenue system, could not justify so rash and 
 desperate a measure. Parliament at once determined to crush 
 the devoted town, which was the seat and cause of this high 
 handed resistance to its supremacy. Its omnipotent power, 
 and all the terrors of its wrath, were to be concentrated and 
 directed against this rebellious town. A bill was immediately 
 introduced to "discontinue the landing and discharging, landing 
 and shipping of goods, wares and merchandise, at the town of 
 Boston, or within the harbor." This bill, called the "Boston 
 Port Bill," passed on the 25th of March, 1 774, and when it was 
 known, threw the inhabitants into the utmost consternation. — 
 A general meeting was called, and spirited resolution? adopted, 
 expressive, in strong terms, of their sense of the oppressive- 
 measure, and they requested all the colonies to unite in an en 
 gagement to discontinue all importations from Great Britain, 
 and most of the colonies resolved to make common cause with 
 Massachusetts, in her opposition to the unconstitutional mea 
 sures, of parliament. The first of June, when the port bill 
 was to go into operation, was appointed to be kept as a day of 
 fasting and prayer. This act was soon followed by another, 
 "for the better regulating government in the province of Mas- 
 sachusetts Bay;" the object of which, was to alter the charter, 
 so as to make the judges and sheriffs dependant on the king, 
 and removeable at his pleasure. And this act was soon suc- 
 ceeded by another, which provided, that any persons indicted 
 for murder, or other capital offence, committed in aiding the 
 magistrates, in enforcing the laws, might be sent by the go- 
 vernor either to any other colony, or to Great Britain for 
 his trial. The Quebec Bill followed in rapid- succession, en- 
 larging the bounds of that province, and conferring many privi- 
 leges on the Roman Catholics; the design of which was to se- 
 cure the attachment of that province, and prevent its joining 
 with the colonies in their measures of resistance. These mea- 
 sures instead of intimidating the colonies into submission, only 
 confirmed their fears of the settled designs of Great Britain to 
 deprive them of their chartered rights, and reduce the colonies 
 
XXVlil A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 to the lowest state of political degradation and oppression. 
 A sense of common danger led to an extensive correspondence, 
 which resulted in the opinion that it was expedient to convene a 
 general congress, to consist of deputies from all the colonies. — 
 This congress met at Philadelphia on the 5th of September, 
 1774; and comprised among its members, some of the most 
 distinguished patriots, statesmen and orators in the country, or 
 perhaps in any other. Notwithstanding the ferment which 
 prevailed in most of the colonies, their proceedings were char- 
 acterised by coolness, unanimity and firmness. 
 
 They published a long and solemn declaration of rights, as 
 British subjects, and maintained in the strongest terms, their 
 exemption from taxation by parliament; besides which, they 
 prepared a petition to the king, which was refused to be an- 
 swered; an address to the people of Great Britain, and another 
 to the people of America. These documents were drawn up 
 with a masterly hand, and exhibited great dignity and ability, 
 and were in every respect worthy of the men who had confided 
 to them the liberties of their country, and the destinies of three 
 millions of their countrymen, threatened with slavery. 
 
 The proceedings of congress did not tend to allay public 
 feeling, and as the royal agents in Massachusetts seemed deter- 
 mined to push matters to extremities, and reduce the people to 
 unconditional submission, by arbitrary and forcible means, 
 every thing now wore the appearance of civil war. A new 
 council, and new judges were appointed by the crown; and the 
 latter attempted to enter upon the execution of their offices; 
 but the juries refused to be sworn under them; the people in 
 some counties assembled to prevent their proceedings, and in 
 Berkshire succeeded, thus setting an example, which was after- 
 wards followed by Shay's men, in violation of the laws of the 
 state. About this time the famous "Tree of Liberty," in Bos- 
 ton, which had been pruned and ornamented with so much 
 pride and care, " fell a victim to British vengeancef or to some 
 individual to whom its shade had become offensive." 
 
 Previously to this period, General Gage had succeeded 
 Hutchinson as Governor of Massachusetts; and, apprehending 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. xxix 
 
 danger from a general muster of the militia, he caused the 
 magazines and amunition at Charlestown and Cambridge, to 
 be removed to Boston, and fortified the neck of land which joins 
 Boston to the main land, at Roxbury. These measures occa- 
 sioned an universal panic; delegates from all the towns in the 
 county of Suffolk met, and spirited resolutions, and a remon- 
 strance to the governor, were adopted. The general assem- 
 bly had been summoned to meet at Salem; but from the tur- 
 bulence of the times, the governor issued his proclamation, 
 countermanding their meeting; yet, in defiance of the govern- 
 or's mandate, ninety members met, resolved themselves into a 
 provincial congress, chose Mr. Hancock president, and adjourn- 
 ed to Concord, nineteen miles from Boston. They fearlessly 
 proceeded to business; after addressing the governor, and 
 reiterating their grievances; in the face of British law and 
 British troops, they proceeded to adopt the first measures, 
 which were taken, directly and avowedly preparatory to an 
 appeal to the sword, in defence of their rights and liberties; 
 they regulated the militia, made provisions for furnishing the 
 people with arms, and for supplying the treasury; and such 
 was the enthusiasm of the people, that their recommendations 
 had the force of law. Governor Gage was filled with rage at 
 these daring proceedings, and issued a proclamation, in which 
 he insinuated that they amounted to rebellion. 
 
 Early in 1775, parliament passed the fishery bills, which pro- 
 hibited the colonies from trading in fish with Great Britain, 
 Ireland and the West Indies, and from taking fish on the banks 
 of Newfoundland. These acts were intended to operate on 
 the town of Boston, which had become the devoted object of 
 ministerial wrath. The various statutes, which were passed, 
 occasioned deep and general distress in Boston and its vicinity; 
 but their brethren in the other colonies sympathised with them, 
 and promptly supplied them with provisions of every descrip- 
 tion for the relief of the sufferers. 
 
 This policy of the British government was not only oppres- 
 sive, but mean and contemptible. Partial legislation is always 
 odious and tyrannical; yet it consisted with the justice and dig- 
 
XXX A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES 
 
 nity of the British nation; and a series of acts were passed, - 
 and the power of the nation exerted, to crush the town of Bos- 
 ton, because it had shewn a more determined spirit of resist- 
 ance to their oppressive and unconstitutional measures than 
 had appeared in other places. The ministry were not sens- 
 ible that the colonies considered themselves all engaged in a 
 common cause; they were in hopes to humble and crush the 
 rebellious inhabitants of that devoted town, which they thought 
 would be such a terrific example as would frighten all the colo- 
 nies into submission. But their wicked designs recoiled on the 
 heads of their authors; for these oppressive measures towards 
 the Bostonians, only served to exasperate the people through- 
 out all the colonies, who regarded them as cruel and detestable. 
 
 In March, 1775, the public indignation was greatly excited 
 by the following base and most shameful transactions: — 
 
 " The people from the country, whose business called them 
 into Boston, were suspected by the officers of purchasing guns 
 from their soldiers. In order to furnish an opportunity to inflict 
 punishment, and to raise occasion for a serious quarrel, Lieute- 
 nant-Colonel Nesbit, of the forty-seventh regiment, ordered a 
 soldier to offer a countryman an old rusty musket. A man from 
 Billerica was caught by this bait, and purchased the gun for three 
 dollars. The unfortunate man was immediately seized by 
 Nesbit and confined in the guard house all night. Early next 
 morning they stripped him entirely naked, covered him over 
 with warm tar, and then with feathers, placed him on a cart and 
 conducted him through the streets as far as liberty-tree, where 
 the people began to collect in vast numbers, and the military, 
 fearing for their own safety, dismissed the man, and retreated to 
 their barracks. The party consisted of about thirty grenadiers, 
 with fixed bayonets, twenty drums and fifes playing the rogue's 
 march, headed by the redoubtable Nesbit with a drawn sword ! 
 What an honorable deed for a British field officer and grena- 
 diers! The selectmen of Billerica remonstrated with General 
 Gage respecting this outrage, but obtained no satisfaction." * 
 
 "' Thacher's Military Journal. 
 
WHICH LED TO THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. XXXl 
 
 It was about this time that the following ludicrous occurrence 
 took place: — 
 
 "Some British officers, soon after Gage's arrival in Boston, 
 Walking on Beacon Hill, after sunset, were affrighted by noises 
 in the air, (supposed to be flying bugs and beetles,) which they 
 took to be the sound of bullets. They left the hill with great 
 precipitation, spread the alarm in their encampment, and wrote 
 terrible accounts to England of being shot at with air-guns, as 
 appeared by their letters, extracts of which were soon after pub- 
 lished in London papers. Indeed, for some time they really 
 believed that the Americans were possessed of a kind of magic 
 white powder, which exploded and killed without a report." In 
 that much celebrated and admirable poem of the day, M'Fingal, 
 the circumstance is thus satirized: 
 
 " No more the British colonel runs 
 
 From whizzing beetles as air guns ; 
 
 Thinks hornbugs, bullets, or through fear, 
 
 Musketoes takes for musketeers; 
 
 Nor 'scapes, as if you'd gaiu'd supplies 
 
 From Beelzebub's whole host of flies, 
 
 No bug these warlike hearts appals, 
 
 They better know the sound of balls." 
 
 The breach between Britain and the colonies had now be- 
 come so wide, as with the mass of the people, nearly to exclude 
 all ideas of conciliation ; and both parties began to make prepa- 
 rations for an appeal to the sword. No alternative was left the 
 Americans but slavery, or resistance by force; measures were 
 adopted for training the militia to the use of arms, to encourage 
 the manufacture of gun-powder, and for collecting all kinds of 
 military stores ; and committees of public safety were appointed 
 in all the towns in the province. The British government sent 
 out a re-inforcement of troops to Boston, and in the mean time 
 General Gage attempted to counteract the designs and measures 
 of the provincials, and particularly to seize or destroy their mili- 
 tary stores, and thus to deprive them of the means of resistance. 
 To destroy the military stores at Concord, General Gage des- 
 patched in a secret manner, a regiment of grenadiers, who 
 undertook to disperse, and fired upon a party of militia at Lex- 
 
XXxii A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE CAUSES, ETC. 
 
 ington, several of whom were killed, which was the first blood 
 spilt in that memorable war and revolution, that separated 
 Great Britain and America forever; and gave to the latter not 
 only a rank among the nations of the earth, but what only can . 
 exalt a nation — liberty and free institutions, which are the du- 
 rable foundations of its glory and rising prosperity; its tran- 
 quility and happiness, its increasing population and wealth, the 
 rapidity of which is unexampled in the annals of the world. 
 
THE 
 
 AMERICAN MILITARY BIOGRAPHY, 
 
 OF THE 
 
 OFFICERS OF THE REVOLUTION. 
 
 ETHAN ALLEN. 
 
 Brigadier General in the American Arm} . 
 
 General Allen was bora in Salisbury, Conn, from whence, 
 while he was yet young, his parents emigrated to Vermont. 
 By this circumstance, he was deprived of the advantages of an 
 early education. But, although he never felt its genial influ- 
 ence, nature had endowed him with strong powers of mind; 
 and when called to take the field, he showed himself an able 
 leader, and an intrepid soldier. 
 
 At the commencement of the disturbances in Vermont, about 
 the year 1770, he took a most active part in favor of the Green 
 Mountain Boys, as the settlers were then called, in opposition 
 to the government of New- York. Bold, enterprising, and am- 
 bitious, he undertook to direct the proceedings of the inhabit- 
 ants, and wrote several pamphlets to display the supposed 
 injustice, and oppressive designs of the New-York proceedings. 
 The uncultivated roughness of his own temper and manners, 
 seems to have assisted him in giving a just description of the 
 views and proceedings of speculating land-jobbers. His writ- 
 ings produced effects so hostile to the views of the state of 
 New- York, that an act of outlawry was passed against him, and 
 five hundred guineas were offered for his apprehension. But 
 his party was too numerous and faithful to permit him to be 
 5 
 
34 ETHAN ALLEN. 
 
 disturbed by any apprehensions for his safety. In all the strug 
 gles of the day he was successful, and proved a valuable friend 
 to those whose cause he had espoused. 
 
 The news of the battle of Lexington determined Allen to 
 engage on the side of his country, and inspired him with the 
 desire of demonstrating his attachment to liberty, by some bold 
 exploit. While in this state of mind, a plan for taking Ticon- 
 deroga and Crown Point, by surprise, which was formed by 
 several gentlemen in Connecticut, was communicated to him, 
 and he readily engaged in the project. Receiving directions 
 from the General assembly of Connecticut, to raise the Green 
 Mountain Boys, and conduct the enterprise, he collected 230 
 of the hardy settlers, and proceeded to Castle ton. Here he 
 was unexpectedly joined by Colonel Arnold, who had been 
 commissioned by the Massachusetts committee to raise 400 
 men, and effect the same object which was now about to be 
 accomplished. They reached the lake opposite Ticonderoga, 
 on the evening of the 9th of May, 1775. With the utmost 
 difficulty boats were procured, and eighty-three men were land- 
 ed near the garrison. Arnold now wished to assume the com- 
 mand, to lead on the men, and swore that he would go in him- 
 self the first. Allen swore that he should not. The dispute 
 beginning to run high, some of the gentlemen present inter- 
 posed, and it was agreed that both should go in together, Allen 
 on the right hand, and Arnold on the left. The following is 
 Allen's own account of the affair: — 
 
 " The first systematical and bloody attempt at Lexington, to 
 enslave America, thoroughly electrified my mind, and fully 
 determined me to take a part with my country. And while 1 
 was wishing for an opportunity to signalize myself in its be- 
 half, directions were privately sent to me from the then colony, 
 now state of Connecticut, to raise the Green Mountain Boys, 
 and if possible with them to surprise and take the fortress of 
 Ticonderoga. This enterprise I cheerfully undertook; and 
 after first guarding all the several passes that lead thither, to 
 cut off all intelligence between the garrison and the country, 
 made a forced march from Bennington, and arrived at the lake 
 
ETHAN ALLEN. 35 
 
 opposite Ticonderoga, on the evening of the 9th of May, 1775, 
 with two hundred and thirty valiant Green Mountain Boys; and 
 it was with the utmost difficulty that I procured boats to cross 
 the lake. However, I landed eighty-three men near the gar- 
 rison, and sent the boats back for the rear guard, commanded 
 by Col. Seth Warner; but the day began to dawn, and I found 
 myself necessitated to attack the fort, before the rear could 
 cross the lake; and as it was viewed hazardous, I harangued 
 the officers and soldiers in the manner following: 'Friends and 
 fellow-soldiers ; You have, for a number of years past, been a 
 scourge and terror to arbitrary powers. Your valour has been 
 famed abroad, and acknowledged, as appears by the advice .and 
 orders to me from the general assembly of Connecticut, to sur- 
 prise and take the garrison now before us. I now propose to 
 advance before you, and in person conduct you through the 
 wicket gate; for we must this morning either quit our preten- 
 sions to valour, or possess ourselves of this fortress in a few 
 minutes; and inasmuch as it is a desperate attempt, which none 
 but the bravest of men dare undertake, I do not urge it on any 
 contrary to his will. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise 
 your firelock.' 
 
 "The men being at this time drawn up in three ranks, each 
 poised his firelock. I ordered them to face to the right; and 
 at the head of the centre file I marched them immediately to 
 the wicket gate aforesaid, where I found a sentry posted, who 
 instantly snapped his fusee at me. I ran immediately towards 
 him, and he retreated through the covered way into the parade 
 within the garrison, gave a halloo, and ran under a bombproof. 
 My party who followed me into the fort, I formed on the parade 
 in such a manner, as to face the barracks, which faced each 
 other. The garrison being asleep, except the sentries, we gave 
 three huzzas, which greatly surprised them. One of the sen- 
 tries made a pass at one of my officers with a charged bayo- 
 net, and slightly wounded him. My first thought was to kill 
 him with my sword, but in an instant I altered the design and 
 fury of the blow to a slight cut on the side of the head; upon 
 which he dropped his gun and asked quarters, which I readily 
 
•tt> ETHAN ALLEN. 
 
 granted him; and demanded the place where the commanding 
 officer kept. He showed me a pair of stairs in the front of the 
 garrison, which led up to a second story in said barracks, to 
 which I immediately repaired, and ordered the command tr, 
 Captain Delaplace, to come forth instantly, or I would sacrifice 
 the whole garrison: At which time the captain came immedi- 
 ately to the door, with his breeches in his hand, when I ordered 
 him to deliver to mc the fort instantly; he asked me by what 
 authority I demanded it. I answered him, ' In the name of the 
 great Jehovah and the Continental Congress.' The authority 
 of congress being very little known at that time, he began to 
 speak again, but I interrupted him, and with my drawn sword 
 near his head again demanded an immediate surrender of the 
 garrison; with which he then complied, and ordered his men 
 to be forthwith paraded without arms, as he had given up the 
 garrison. In the mean time, some of my officers had given 
 orders, and in consequence thereof, sundry of the barrack doors 
 were beat down, and about one third of the garrison imprison- 
 ed, which consisted of said commander, a lieutenant Feltham, 
 a conductor of artillery, a gunner, two sergeants, and forty- 
 four rank and file; about one hundred pieces of cannon, one 
 thirteen inch mortar, and a number of swivels. This surprise 
 was carried into execution in the gray of the morning of the 
 10th of May, 1775. The sun seemed to rise that morning 
 with a superior lustre; and Ticonderoga and its dependencies 
 smiled on its conquerors, who tossed about the flowing bowl, 
 and wished success to Congress, and the* liberty and freedom 
 of America. Happy it was for me, at that time, that the 
 future pages of the book of fate, which afterward unfolded a 
 miserable scene of two years and eight months imprisonment, 
 were hid from my view/' 
 
 This brilliant exploit secured to Allen a high reputation for 
 intrepid valour throughout the country. In the fall of 1775, he 
 was sent twice into Canada to observe the dispositions of the peo- 
 ple, and attach them if possible to the American cause. Du- 
 ring one of these excursions he made a rash and romantic at- 
 tempt upon Montreal. He had been sent by General Montr 
 
ETHAN ALLEN. 37 
 
 gomery with a guard of eighty men on a tour into the villages 
 in the neighbourhood. On his return he was*met by a Major 
 Brown, who had been on the same business. It was agreed 
 between them to make a descent upon the island of Montreal. 
 Allen was to cross the river, and land with his pi:tv a little 
 north of the city; while Brown was to pass over a little to the 
 south, with near 200 men. Allen crossed the river in the 
 night as had been proposed, but by some means Brown and his 
 party failed. Instead of returning, Allen, with great rashness, 
 concluded to maintain his ground. General Carlton soon re- 
 ceived intelligence of Allen's situation and the smallness of his 
 numbers, and marched out against him with about 40 regulars 
 and a considerable number of English, Canadians, and Indians* 
 amounting, in the whole, to some hundreds. Allen attempted 
 to defend himself, but it was to no purpose. Being deserted 
 by several of his men, and having fifteen killed, he, with thirty- 
 eight of his men, were taken prisoners. 
 
 He was now kept for some time in irons, and was treated 
 with the most rigorous and unsparing cruelty. From his nar- 
 rative it appears that the irons placed on him were uncommon- 
 ly heavy, and so fastened, that he could not lie down, other- 
 wise than on his back. A chest was his seat by day, and bis 
 bed by night. Soon after his capture, still loaded with irons, 
 he was sent to England, being assured that the halter would 
 be the reward of his rebellion when he arrived there. Find- 
 ing that threats and menaces had no effect upon him, high com- 
 mand and a large tract of the conquered country was after- 
 ward offered him, on condition he would join the British. To 
 the last he replied, " that he viewed their offer of conquered 
 United States land, to be similar to that which the devil offered 
 to Jesus Christ: to give him all the kingdoms of the woild, if 
 he would fall down and worship him, when, at the same time, 
 the poor devil had not one foot of land upon earth." 
 
 After his arrival, about the middle of December, he was lodg- 
 ed, for a short time, in Pendennis Castle, near Falmouth. On 
 the 8th of January, 1776, he was put on board a frigate, and 
 by a circuitous route again carried to Halifax. Here he re- 
 
38 ETHAN ALLEN. 
 
 mained closely confined in the jail from June to October, when 
 he was removed to New- York. D iring the passage to this 
 place, captain Burke, a daring prisoner, proposed to kill the 
 British captain, and seize the frigate; but Allen refused to 
 engage in the plot, and was probably the means of saving the 
 life of captain Smith, who had treated him with kindness. He 
 was kept at New- York about a year and a half, sometimes 
 imprisoned, and sometimes permitted to be on parole. While 
 here he had an opportunity to observe the inhuman manner in 
 which the American prisoners were treated. In one of the 
 churches in which they were crowded, he saw seven lying dead 
 at one time, and others biting pieces of chips from hunger. — 
 He calculated, that of the prisoners taken on Long-Island and 
 at Fort Washington, near 2000 perished by hunger and cold, 
 or in consequence of diseases occasioned by the impurity of 
 their prisons. 
 
 Col. Allen was exchanged for a Col. Campbell, May 6th, 
 1778, and after having repaired to head quarters, and offered 
 his services to General Washington, in case his health should 
 be restored, he returned to Vermont. His arrival on the eve- 
 ning of the last day of May, gave his friends great joy, and it 
 was announced by the discharge of cannon. As an expression 
 of confidence in his patriotism and military talents, he was 
 very soon appointed to the' command of the state militia. His 
 intrepidity, however, was never again brought to the test, 
 though his patriotism was tried by an unsuccessful attempt of 
 the British to bribe him to attempt a union of Vermont with 
 Canada. He died suddenly on his estate, February 1 3th, 1 789. 
 
 Gen. Allen was brave, humane, and generous; yet his con- 
 duct does not seem to have been much influenced by consider- 
 ations respecting that holy and merciful Being, whose charac- 
 ter and whose commands are disclosed to us in the Scriptures. 
 His notions with regard to religion were loose and absurd. He 
 believed with Pythagoras, the heathen philosopher, that man, 
 after death, would transmigrate into beasts, birds, fishes, rep- 
 tiles, &c. and often informed his friends that he himself expect- 
 ed to live again in the form of a large white horse. 
 
(39) 
 
 WILLIAM ALEXANDER, 
 
 Major General in the American Army. 
 
 General Alexander, commonly called Lord Stirling, was a 
 native of the city of New-York. He was considered, by many, 
 as the rightful heir to the title and estate of an earldom in 
 Scotland, of which country his father was a native ; and al- 
 though when he went to North Britain in pursuit of this inhe- 
 ritance, he failed of obtaining an acknowledgment of hi? claim 
 by government, yet, among his friends and acquaintances, he 
 received, by courtesy, the title of Lord Stirling. In his youth 
 his labours were arduous in the pursuit of science, and he dis- 
 covered an early fondness for the study of mathematics and 
 astronomy, in which he attained great eminence. 
 
 At the commencement of the revolutionary war, he attached 
 himself to the cause of America, and entered the field against 
 her enemies. He was a brave, discerning, and intrepid officer. 
 In the battle on Long-Island, August 27th, 1776, he shared 
 largely in the glory and disasters of the day. The part he 
 bore in that engagement is described as follows; — "The fire 
 towards Brooklyn gave the first intimation to the American 
 right that the enemy had gained their rear. Lord Stirling, 
 perceiving the danger with which he was threatened, and that 
 he could only escape it by instantly retreating across the creek, 
 by the Yellow Mills, not far from the cove, orders to this effect 
 were immediately given, and the more effectually to secure 
 the retreat of the main body of the detachment, he determin- 
 ed to attack, in person, a corps of the British, under Lord Corn- 
 wallis, stationed at a house somewhat above the place at which 
 he proposed crossing the creek. About four hundred men 
 were chosen out for this purpose; and the attack was made 
 with great spirit. This small corps was brought up to the 
 charge several times, and Lord Stirling stated that he was on 
 the point of dislodging Lord Cornwallis from this post: but the 
 force in his front increasing, and General Grant also advancing 
 on his rear, the brave men he commanded were no longer abb 
 
40 DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 to oppose the superior numbers which assailed them on every 
 quarter, ai:d those who survived were, with their general, 
 made prisoners of war. This bold and well judged attempt, 
 though unsuccessful, was productive of great advantages. It 
 gave an opportunity to a large part of the detachment, to save 
 themselves by crossing the creek. 
 
 Immediately after his exchange, Lord Stirling joined the 
 arm} f under the immediate command of General Washington. 
 In the baUle of Germantown, his division, and the brigade of 
 Generals Nash and Maxwell, formed the corps of reserve. At 
 the battle of Mor.mouth, he commanded the left; wing of the Ame- 
 rican army. At an important period of the engagement, he 
 brought up a detachment of artillery, commanded by Lieute- 
 nant-Colonel Carrington, with some field pieces, which played 
 with great effect on the enemy, who were pressing on to the 
 charge. These pieces, with the aid of several parties of in- 
 fantry, detached for the purpose,. effectually put a stop to their 
 advance. The American artillery maintained their ground 
 with admirable firmness, under a heavy fire from the British 
 field artillery. 
 
 His attachment to Washington was proved in the latter part 
 of 1777, by transmitting to him an account of the disaffection 
 of General Conway to the Commander-in-Chief. In the let- 
 ter he said, " such wicked duplicity of conduct I shall always 
 think it my duty to detect." 
 
 He died at Albany, January 15th, 1783, aged 57 years. 
 
 DANIEL BOONE, 
 
 The first SettJer of Kentucky. 
 
 The merit of opposing the hostile attacks of men regardless 
 of every law of honour and humanity; counteracting the trea- 
 cherous machinations of barbarians, who conceive an advantage 
 can never be unjustly gained; and bearing up against continu- 
 al party skirmishes, and uninterrupted harassments, in a contest 
 for the unenclosed and unfrequented plains of nature, evident- 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 41 
 
 ly deserve commemoration. The general intrusted with the 
 chief command of an army, who earns his fame by the capture 
 of a troop, reduction of a town, province, or country, is stimu- 
 lated by the fame, the natural consequence of his actions; and 
 sees the speedy end of the contest; but the former expects no 
 epic muse to sing his worthy actions; though his valour is equal- 
 ly tried, or rather teazed, by the continual and petty insults of 
 the disorganized and detached foe. To his courage he must 
 add that persevering integrity which years of uninterrupted 
 assaults cannot subdue. If personal bravery, united with dis- 
 interested zeal for the good of that community of which he 
 was a member, merit our notice, Daniel Boone should not be 
 passed over in silence. Though not designed by fortune to 
 display those talents which in an important campaign between 
 the civilized powers of Europe, would have enrolled his name 
 in the list of worthies; yet fortunately for the cause of virtue, 
 and the just success of his fame, his labours are not consigned 
 to oblivion; but unlike some of those beauteous productions of 
 nature in the lonely theatre of his actions, "born to waste their 
 sweetness on the desert air," were by their author plucked 
 from their native soil, and presented to his friends. 
 
 Daniel Boone was born, as we are informed, near Bridge- 
 north, in Somersetshire, (England,) about the year 1730. — 
 While he was young, his parents emigrated to America, and 
 settled in North-Carolina, where he was bred to the profession 
 of arms, and was very early retained in the service of that 
 country on the part of the English government. He passed 
 through all the inferior gradations to the post of colonel, in 
 which capacity he distinguished himself as the most active, 
 zealous, and useful of the original settlers of Kentucky. It 
 was his frequent combats with the Indians on that occasion, 
 during the period of thirteen years, which render him the ob- 
 ject of this memoir. The particulars of his campaigns, if they 
 deserve that name, will be read with more pleasure as left us 
 by himself, where, though devoid of art, and the ornaments a 
 qualified biographer might have furnished, there may be seen 
 6 
 
42 DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 the stamp of unexaggerated authenticity, and lively feelings of 
 the patriot, citizen, parent, and friend. 
 
 "It was on the first of May, 1769, that I resigned my domes- 
 tic happiness, and left my family and peaceful habitation on 
 the Yadkin River, in North-Carolina, to wander through the 
 wilderness of America, in quest of the country of Kentucky, 
 in company with John Finley, John Stuart, Joseph Holden, 
 James Money, and William Cool. On the seventh of June, 
 after travelling through a mountainous wilderness, in a west- 
 ern direction, we found ourselves on Red River, where John 
 Finley had formerly been trading with the Indians; and from 
 the top of an eminence saw with pleasure, the beautiful level 
 of Kentucky. For some time we had experienced the most 
 uncomfortable weather. We now encamped, made a shelter 
 to defend us from the inclement season, and began to hunt 
 and reconnoitre the country. We found abundance of wild 
 beasts in this vast forest. The buffaloes were more numerous 
 than cattle on other settlements, browsing upon the leaves of 
 the cane, or cropping the herbage of these extensive plains. 
 We saw hundreds in a drove, and the numbers about the salt 
 springs were amazing. In this forest, the habitation of beasts 
 of every American kind, we hunted with success until Decem- 
 ber. On the 22d of December, John Stuart and I had a plea- 
 sing ramble; but fortune changed the day at the close of it. 
 We had passed through a great forest, in which stood myriads 
 of trees, some gay with blossoms, others rich with fruits. Na- 
 ture had here a series of wonders and a fund of delights. — 
 Here she displayed her ingenuity and industry in a variety of 
 flowers and fruits, beautifully coloured, elegantly shaped, and 
 charmingly flavoured ; and we were diverted with numberless 
 animals presenting themselves perpetually to our view. In 
 the decline of the day, near the Kentucky River, as we de- 
 scended the brow of a small hill, a number of Indians rushed 
 out of a thick cane brake and made us prisoners. They plun- 
 dered us, and kept us in confinement seven days* During this 
 time, we discovered no uneasiness or desire to escape, which 
 made them less suspicious; but in the dead of night, as we lay 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 43 
 
 by a large tire in a thick cane brake, when sleep had locked 
 up their senses, my situation not disposing me to rest, 1 gently 
 awoke my companion. We seized this favourable opportunity 
 and departed, directing our course towards our old camp; but 
 found it plundered and our companions dispersed or gone home. 
 About this time, my brother, Squire Boone, with another ad- 
 venturer, who came to explore the country shortly after us, 
 was wandering through the forest, and accidentally found our 
 camp. Notwithstanding our unfortunate circumstances, and 
 our dangerous situation, surrounded by hostile savages, our 
 meeting fortunately in the wilderness gave us the most sensible 
 satisfaction. Soon after this, my companion in captivity, John 
 Stuart, was killed by the savages; and the man that came with 
 my brother returned home by himself. We were then in a 
 dangerous, helpless situation, exposed daily to perils and death, 
 among savages and wild beasts, not a white man in the coun- 
 try but ourselves. Thus, many hundred miles from our fami- 
 lies, in the howling wilderness, we did not continue in a state 
 of indolence, but hunted every day, and prepared a little cot- 
 tage to protect us from the winter storms. We met with no 
 disturbance during the winter. On the first of May, 1770, my 
 brother returned heme by himself, for a new recruit of horses 
 and amunition, leaving me alone without bread, salt, or sugar, 
 or even a horse or dog. I passed a few days uncomfortably. 
 The idea of a beloved wife and family, and their anxiety on 
 my account, would have exposed me to melancholy, if I had 
 further indulged the thought. One day I undertook a tour 
 through the country, when the diversity and beauties of nature 
 I met with in this charming season, expelled every gloomy 
 thought. Just at the close of the day, the gentle gales ceased; 
 a profound calm ensued; not a breath shook the tremulous 
 leaf. I had gained the summit of a commanding ridge, and 
 looking round with astonishment and delight, beheld the ample 
 plains and beauteous tracts below. On one hand the famous 
 Ohio, rolling in silent dignity, and marking the western bound- 
 ary of Kentucky with inconceivable grandeur. At a vast dis- 
 tance I beheld the mountains lift their venerable brows and 
 
14 DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 penetrate the clouds. All things were still. I kindled a fire 
 near a fountain of sweet water, and feasted on the loin of a 
 buck, which a few hours before, 1 had killed. The shades of 
 night soon overspread the hemisphere, and the earth, seemed 
 to gasp after the hovering moisture. My excursion had fatigu- 
 ed my body and amused my mind. I laid me down to sleep, 
 and awoke not until the sun had chased away the night. I 
 continued this lour, and in a few days explored a great part of 
 the country, each day equally pleased as the first; after which 
 I returned to my old camp, which had not been disturbed in 
 my absence. I did not confine my lodging to it, but often re- 
 posed in thick cane brakes, to avoid the savages, who, I 
 believe, often visited my camp, but fortunately during my ab- 
 sence. No populous city, with all the varieties of commerce 
 and stately structures, could afford so much pleasure to my 
 mind as the beauties of nature I found in this country. Until 
 the 27th of July I spent the time in an uninterrupted scene of 
 sylvan pleasures, when my brother, to my great felicity, m^t 
 me, according to appointment, at our old camp. Soon after 
 we left the place, and proceeded to Cumberland River, recon- 
 noitring that part of the country, and giving names to the dif- 
 ferent rivers. In March, 1771, 1 returned home to my family, 
 being determined to bring them as soon as possible, at the risk 
 of my life and fortune, to reside in Kentucky, which I esteem- 
 ed a second paradise. On my return, I found my family in 
 happy circumstances. I sold my farm at Yadkin, and what 
 goods we could not carry with us; and on the 25th of Sep- 
 tember, 1773, we bade farewell to our friends, and proceed- 
 ed on our journey to Kentucky, in company with five more 
 families, and forty men that joined us in Powell's valley, which 
 is one hundred and fifty miles from, the now settled parts of 
 Kentucky; but this promising beginning was soon overcast 
 with a cloud of adversity. On the 10th of October, the rear 
 of our company was attacked by a number of Indians, who 
 killed six and wounded one man. Of these my eldest son was 
 one that fell in the action. Though we repulsed the enemy, 
 yet this unhappy affair, scattered our cattle, brought us into 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 45 
 
 extreme difficulty, and so discouraged the whole company, 
 that we retreated forty miles to Clench River. We had pas- 
 sed over two mountains, Powell's and Walden's, and were ap- 
 proaching Cumberland mountain, when this adverse fortune 
 overtook us. These mountains are in the wilderness, in pass- 
 ing from the old settlements in Virginia to Kentucky, are 
 ranged in a S.W. and N.E. direction, are of great length and 
 breadth, and not far distant from each other. Over them na- 
 ture has formed passes, less difficult than might be expected 
 from the view of such huge piles. The aspect of these cliffs 
 is so wild and horrid, that it is impossible to behold them with- 
 out terror. Until the 6th of June, 1774, 1 remained with my 
 family on the Clench, when I and Michael Stoner were solicit- 
 ed by Governor Dunmore of Virginia, to conduct a number of 
 surveyors to the falls of Ohio. This was a tour of near eight 
 hundred miles, and took us sixty-two days. On my return, 
 Governor Ehinmore gave me the command of three garrisons, 
 during the campaign against the Shawanese. In March, 1775, 
 at the solicitation of a number of gentlemen of North-Carolina, 
 I attended their treaty at Wataga, with the Cherokee Indians, 
 to purchase the lands on the south side of Kentucky River. 
 After this I undertook to mark out a road in the best passage 
 from the settlements, through the wilderness to Kentucky. — 
 Having collected a number of enterprising men, well armed, 
 I soon began this work. We proceeded until we came within 
 fifteen miles of where Boonsborough now stands, where the 
 Indians attacked us, and killed two, and wounded two more. 
 This was the 20th of March, 1775. Three days after they 
 attacked us again; we had two killed and three wounded. 
 After this we proceeded on to Kentucky River without oppo- 
 sition. On the first of April we hegan to erect the fort of 
 Boonsborough, at a salt lick, sixty yards from the river, on the 
 south side.. On the 4th, they killed one of our men. On the 
 14th of June, having finished the fort, I returned to my family, 
 on the Clench. Soon after, I removed my family to this fort: 
 we arrived safe; my wife and daughters being the first white 
 women that stood on the banks of Kentucky River. Decern- 
 
40 DANIEL BOONk, 
 
 ber 24th, the Indians killed one man and wounded another, 
 seeming determined to persecute us for erecting this fort. July 
 14th, 1 776, two of Colonel Col way's daughters and one of mine, 
 were taken prisoners near the fort: I immediately pursued the 
 Indians with only 1 8 men. On the 16th I overtook them, killed 
 two of them, and recovered the girls. The Indians had divided 
 themselves into several parties, and attacked, on the same day, 
 all our settlements and forts, doing a great deal of mischief. 
 The husbandman was shot dead in the field, and most of the 
 cattle were destroyed. They continued their hostilities until 
 the 15th of April, 1777, when a party of one hundred of them 
 attacked Boonsborough, and killed one man and wounded four. 
 July 4th they attacked it again with two hundred men, and 
 killed one of us, and wounded two. They remained forty-eight 
 hours, during which we killed seven of them. All the settle- 
 ments were attacked at the same time. July 19th, Colonel 
 Logan's fort was besieged by two hundred Indians. They did 
 much mischief: there were only fifteen men in the fort; they 
 killed two and wounded four of them. Indians' loss un- 
 known. July 25th, twenty-five men came from Carolina. 
 About August 20th, Colonel Bowman arrived with one hun- 
 dred men from Virginia. Now we began to strengthen, and 
 had skirmishes with the Indians almost every day. The sava- 
 ges now learned the superiority of the longknife, as they call 
 the Virginians; being out-generalled almost in every battle. 
 Our affairs began to wear a new aspect; the enemy did not 
 now venture open war, but practised secret mischief. January 
 1st, 1778, I went with thirty men to the Blue Licks, on Lick- 
 ing River, to make salt for the different garrisons. February 
 7th, hunting by myself, to procure meat for the company, I met 
 a party of one hundred and two Indians, and two Frenchmen, 
 marching against Boonsborough. They pursued and took me. 
 The next day I capitulated for my men, knowing they could not 
 escape. They were twenty-seven in number, three having 
 gone home with salt. The Indians, according to the capitula- 
 tion, used us generously. They carried us to Old Chillicothe^ 
 the principal Indian town mi the Little Miami. On the 18th 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 4") 
 
 of February we arrived there, after an uncomfortable journey, 
 in very severe weather. On the 10th of March, I and ten of 
 my men were conducted to Detroit. On the 30th we arrived 
 there, and were treated by Governor Hamilton, the British 
 commander at that post, with great huma; i'\. The Indians 
 had such an affection for me, that they refused one hundred 
 pounds sterling offered them by the governor, if they would 
 leave me with the others, on purpose that he might send me 
 home on my parole. Several English gentlemen there, sens- 
 ible of my adverse fortune, and touched with sympathy, gen- 
 erously offered to supply my wants, which I declined with ma- 
 ny thanks, adding, that I never expected it would be in my 
 power to recompense such unmerited generosity. On the 10th 
 of April they brought me towards Old Chillicothe, where we 
 arrived on the 25th day of the same month. This was a long 
 and fatiguing march through an exceeding fertile country, re- 
 markable for fine springs and streams of water. At Ci illicothe 
 I spent my time as comfortably as I could expect; was adopted, 
 according to their custom, into a family, where I became a son, 
 and had a great share in the affections of my new parents, bro- 
 thers, sisters, and friends. I was exceedingly familiar and 
 friendly with them, always appearing as cheerful and satisfied 
 as possible, and they put great confidence in me. I often went 
 a hunting with them, and frequently gained their applause for 
 my activity; at our shooting matches, I was careful not to ex- 
 ceed many of them in shooting; for no people are more envi- 
 ous than they are in this sport. I could observe in their coun- 
 tenances and gestures the greatest expressions of joy when they 
 exceeded me, and when the reverse happened, of envy. The 
 Shawanese king took great notice of me, treated me with pro- 
 found respect and entire friendship, and often entrusted me to 
 hunt at my liberty. I frequently returned with the spoils of the 
 woods, and as often presented some of what I had taken to him, 
 expressive of my duty to my sovereign. My food and lodging 
 were in common with them ; not so good, indeed, as I could de- 
 sire, but necessity made every thing acceptable. 1 now began 
 to meditate an escape, but carefully avoided giving suspicion. 
 
48 DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 Until the first of June I continued at Old Chillicothe, and theu 
 was taken to the salt springs on the Sciota, and kept there ten 
 days making salt. During this time I hunted with them, and 
 found the land, for a great extent about this river, to exceed 
 the soil of Kentucky, if possible, and remarkably well water- 
 ed. On my return to Chillicothe, ?450 of the choicest Indian 
 warriors were ready to march against Boonsborough, painted 
 and armed in a dreadful manner. This alarmed me, and I 
 determined to escape. On the 16th of June, before sunrise, I 
 went off secretly, and reached Boonsborough on the 20th ; a 
 journey of one hundred and sixty miles, during which I had 
 only one meal. I found our fortress in a bad state; but we 
 immediately repaired our flanks, gates, posterns, and formed 
 double bastions, which we completed in ten days. One of 
 my fellow-prisoners, escaping after me, brought advice, that on 
 account of my flight, the Indians had put off the expedition 
 for three weeks. About August 1st, I set out with nineteen 
 men, to surprise Point Creek Town on Sciota. Within four 
 miles we fell in with thirty Indians going against Boonsborough. 
 We fought and the enemy gave way. We suffered no loss. 
 The enemy had one killed and two wounded. We took three 
 horses, and all their baggage. The Indians having evacuated 
 their town, and gone altogether against Boonsborough, we re- 
 turned, passed them on the 6th day, and on the 7th arrived 
 safe at Boonsborough. On the 8th, the Indian army, 444 in 
 number, commanded by Captain Dugnesne, and eleven other 
 Frenchmen, and their own chiefs, came and summoned the 
 fort. I requested two days consideration, which they granted. 
 During this, we brought in, through the posterns, all the horses 
 and other cattle we could collect. On the 9th, in the evening, 
 I informed their commander, that we were determined to de- 
 fend the fort while a man was living. They then proposed a 
 treaty, and said, if we sent out nine men to conclude it, they 
 would withdraw. The treaty was held within sixty yards of 
 the fort, as we suspected the savages. The articles were 
 agreed to and signed; when the Indians told us, it was their 
 custom for two Indians to shake hands with every white man, 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 49 
 
 as an evidence of friendship. We agreed to this also. They 
 immediately grappled us to take us prisoners; but we cleared 
 ourselves of them, though surrounded by hundreds, and gain- 
 ed the fort safely, except one that was wounded by a heavy 
 tire from their army. On this they began to undermine the 
 fort, beginning at the water-mark of Kentucky River, which 
 is sixty yards from the fort. We discovered this by the water 
 being made muddy with the clay, and countermined them by 
 cutting a trench across their subterranean passage. The ene- 
 my, discovering this, by the clay we threw out of the fort, de- 
 sisted. On the 20th of August they raised the siege. During 
 this dreadful siege we had two men killed and four wounded. 
 We lost a number of cattle. We killed 37 of the enemy and 
 wounded a great number. We picked up 125 pounds of their 
 bullets, besides what stuck in the logs of the fort. Soon after 
 this I went into the settlement, and nothing worthy of notice 
 passed for some time. In July, 1779, during my absence, Co- 
 lonel Bowman, with 1 60 men, went against the Shawanese of 
 Old Chillicothe. He arrived undiscovered; a battle ensued, 
 which lasted till 10 in the morning, when Colonel Bowman 
 retreated 30 miles. The Indians collected all their strength 
 and pursued him, when another engagement ensued for two 
 hours, not to Colonel Bowman's advantage. Colonel Harrod 
 proposed to mount a number of horses, and break the enemy's 
 line, who at this time fought with remarkable fury. This des- 
 perate measure had a happy effect, and the savages fled on all 
 sides. In these two battles we had nine men killed and one 
 wounded. The enemy's loss was uncertain, only two scalps 
 being taken. June 22d, 1780, about 600 Indians, and Cana- 
 dians under Colonel Bird, attacked Riddle's and Martin's sta- 
 tions, and the forts of Licking River, with 6 pieces of artillery: 
 they took all the inhabitants captive, and killed one man and 
 two women, and loaded the others with the heavy baggage, 
 and such as failed in the journey were tomahawked. The hos- 
 tile disposition of the savages caused General Clark, the com- 
 mandant at the falls of Ohio, to march with his regiment and 
 the armed force of the country against Peccaway, the princi- 
 7 
 
50 DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 pal town of the Shawanese, on a branch of the Great Miami, 
 which he finished with great success, took 17 scalps and burned 
 the town to ashes, with the loss of 17 men. About this time 
 1 returned to Kentucky with my family; for during my cap- 
 tivity, my wife, thinking me killed by the Indians, had trans- 
 ported my family and goods on horses, through the wilderness, 
 amidst many dangers, to her father's house in North-Carolina. 
 The history of my difficulties in going and returning, is too 
 long to be inserted here. On the 6th of October, 1780, soon 
 after my settling again at Boonsborough, I went with my bro- 
 ther to the Blue Licks; and on our return, he was shot by a 
 party of Indians; they followed me by the scent of a dog, which 
 I shot and escaped. The severity of the winter caused great 
 distress in Kentucky, the enemy during the summer having 
 destroyed most of the corn. The inhabitants lived chiefly on 
 Buffaloes' flesh. In the spring, 1782, the Indians harassed us. 
 In May, they killed one man at Ashton's station, and took a 
 negro. Captain Ashton pursued them with 25 men; and, in 
 an engagement which lasted two hours, he was obliged to re- 
 treat, having eight killed and four mortally wounded; their 
 brave commander fell in the action. August 10, two boys were 
 carried off from Major Hoy's station. Captain Holder pur- 
 sued with 17 men; they were also defeated, and lost four and 
 one wounded. Our affairs became more and more alarming. 
 The savages infested the country, killing men at every oppor- 
 tuni'y. In a field, near Lexington, an Indian shot a man, and 
 running to scalp him, was himself shot from the fort, and fell 
 dead upon his enemy. All the Indian nations were now uni- 
 ted against us. August 15, 500 Indians and Canadians came 
 against Briant's station, five miles from Lexington ; they assault- 
 ed the fort, and killed all the cattle round it; but being re- 
 pulsed, they retired the third day, having about 30 killed, their 
 wounded uncertain. The garrison had four' lolled and three 
 wounded. August 18, Colonel Todd, Colonel Trigg, Major 
 Harland, and myself, speedily collected 176 men, well armed, 
 and pursued the savages. They had marched beyond the Blue 
 Licks, to a remarkable bend of the main fork of the Licking 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 51 
 
 River, about forty-three miles from Lexington, where we over- 
 took them on the 19th. The savages observing us, gave way; 
 and we, ignorant of their numbers, passed the river. When 
 they saw our proceedings, having greatly the advantage in situ- 
 ation, they formed their line of battle from one bend of the 
 Licking to the other, about a mile from the Blue Licks. The 
 battle was exceedingly fierce for about fifteen minutes, when 
 we, being overpowered by numbers, were obliged to retreat, 
 with the loss of sixty-seven men, seven of whom were taken 
 prisoners. The brave and much lamented Colonels Todd and 
 Trigg, Major Harland, and my second son, were among the 
 dead. We were afterward told, that the Indians, on number- 
 ing their dead, finding they had four more killed than we, four 
 of our people that they had taken, were given up to their 
 young warriors, to be put to death after their barbarous man- 
 ner. On our retreat we Were met by Colonel Logan, who was 
 hastening to join us with a number of well armed men: this 
 powerful assistance we wanted on the day of battle. The 
 enemy said, one more fire from us would have made them give 
 way. I cannot reflect upon this dreadful scene but sorrow 
 fills my heart: a zeal for the defence of their country led these 
 heroes to the scene of action, though with a few men, to 
 attack a powerful army of experienced warriors. When we 
 gave way, they pursued us with the utmost eagerness, and in 
 every quarter spread destruction. The river was difficult to 
 cross, and many were killed in the flight; some just entering 
 the river, some in the water, others after crossing, in ascending 
 the cliffs*. Some escaped on horseback, a few on foot; and 
 being dispersed every where, a few hours brought the melan- 
 choly news of this unfortunate battle to Lexington. Many 
 widows were now made. The reader may guess what sorrow 
 filled the hearts of the inhabitants, exceeding any thing I am 
 able to describe. Being reinforced we returned to bury the 
 dead, and found their bodies strewed every where, cut and 
 mangled in a dreadful manner. This mournful scene exhibit- 
 ed a horror almost unparalleled : some torn and eaten by wild 
 beasts: those in the river eaten by fish ; all in such a putrified 
 
DANIEL BOONE 
 
 condition that no one could be distinguished from another. 
 When General Clark, at the falls of Ohio, heard of our disas- 
 ter, he ordered an expedition to pursue the savages. We over- 
 took them within two miles of their towns, and we should have 
 obtained a great victory had not some of them met us when 
 about 200 poles from their camp. The savages fled in the 
 utmost disorder, and evacuated all their towns. We burned 
 to ashes old Chillicothe, Peccaway, New-Chillicothe, Wills- 
 Town, and Chillicothe ; entirely destroyed their corn and other 
 fruits, and spread desolation through their country. We took 
 seven prisoners and five scalps, and lost only four men, two of 
 whom were accidentally killed by ourselves. 
 
 This campaign damped the enemy, yet they made secret in- 
 cursions. In October, a party attacked Crab Orchard; and 
 one of them, being a good way before the others, boldly enter- 
 ed a house, in which were only a woman and her children, and 
 a negro man. The savage used no violence, but attempted to 
 carry off the negro, who happily proved too strong for bim and 
 threw him on the ground, and in the struggle the woman cut 
 off his head with an axe, whilst her little daughter shut the 
 door. The savages instantly came up, and applied their toma- 
 hawks to the door, when the mother putting an old rusty gun- 
 barrel through a crevice, the savages went off. From that 
 time until the happy return of peace between the United States 
 and Great Britain, the Indians did us no mischief. Soon after 
 the Indians desired peace. Two darling sons and a brother I 
 have lost by savage hands, which have also taken forty valu- 
 able horses, and an abundance of cattle. Many dark and sleep- 
 less nights have I spent, separated from the cheerful society of 
 men, scorched by summer's sun, and pinched by the winter's 
 cold, an instrument ordained to settle the wilderness. But now 
 the scene is changed; peace crowns the sylvan shade. 
 
 DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 Fayette county, Kentucky." 
 
(53) 
 
 JOHN CADWALADER, 
 
 Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
 
 This zealous and inflexible friend of America was born in 
 Philadelphia, 1 742. He was distinguished for his intrepidity 
 as a soldier, in upholding the cause of freedom during the most 
 discouraging periods of danger and misfortune, that America 
 ever beheld. 
 
 At the dawn of the revolution, he commanded a corps of 
 volunteers, designated as " the silk-stocking company" of which 
 nearly all the members were appointed to commissions in the 
 line of the army. He afterward was appointed colonel of one 
 of the city battalions, and being thence promoted to the rank 
 of Brigadier-General, was intrusted with the command of the 
 Pennsylvania troops, in the important operations of the winter 
 campaign of 1776 and 1777. He acted with this command, 
 as a volunteer, in the actions of Princeton, Brandywine, Ger- 
 mantown, and Monmouth, and on other occasions, and receiv- 
 ed the thanks of General Washington, whose confidence and 
 regard he uniformly enjoyed. 
 
 The merits and services of General Cadwalader, induced 
 congress, early in 1778, to compliment him by a unanimous 
 vote, with the appointment of general of cavalry; which ap- 
 pointment he declined under an impression that he could be 
 more useful to his country, in the sphere in which he had been 
 acting. 
 
 He was strongly and ardently attached to General Washing- 
 ton, and his celebrated duel with General Conway, arose from 
 his spirited opposition to the intrigues of that officer, to un- 
 dermine the standing of the commander-in-chief. The follow- 
 ing anecdote of the rencounter, is related in the " Anecdotes 
 of the Revolutionary War." 
 
 " The particulars of this duel, originating in the honourable 
 feelings of General Cadwalader, indignant at the attempt of 
 his adversary to injure the reputation of the commander-in- 
 chief, by representing him as unqualified for the exalted sta- 
 
54 JOHN CADWALADER. 
 
 tion which he held, appears worthy of record. Nor ought the 
 coolness observed on the occasion by the parties, to be forgot- 
 ten, as it evinces very strongly, that though imperious circum- 
 stances may compel men of nice feeling to meet, that the dic- 
 tates of honour may be satisfied, without the smallest deviation 
 from the most rigid rules of politeness. When arrived at the 
 appointed rendezvous, General Cadwalader, accompanied by 
 General Dickenson of Pennsylvania, General Conway by Co- 
 lonel Morgan of Princeton, it was agreed upon by the seconds, 
 that, on the word being given, the principals might fire in their 
 own time, and at discretion, either by an off-hand shot, or by 
 taking a deliberate aim. The parties having declared them- 
 selves ready, the word was given to proceed. General Con- 
 way immediately raised his pistol, and fired with great compo- 
 sure, but without effect. General Cadwalader was about to 
 do so, when a sudden ,gust of wind occurring, he kept his pis- 
 tol down and remained tranquil. 'Why do you not fire, Gen- 
 eral Cadwalader?' exclaimed Conway. 'Because,'- replied 
 General Cadwalader, 'we came not here to trifle. Let the 
 gale pass, and I shall act my part.' 'You shall have a fair 
 chance of performing it well,' rejoined Conway, and immedi- 
 ately presented a full front. General Cadwalader fired, and 
 his ball entering the mouth of his antagonist, he fell directly 
 forward on his face. Colonel Morgan running to his assistance, 
 found the blood spouting from behind his neck, and lifting up 
 the' club of his hair, saw the ball drop from it. It had passed 
 through his head greatly to the derangement of his tongue and 
 teeth, but did not inflict a mortal wound. As soon as the blood 
 was sufficiently washed away to allow him to speak, General 
 Conway, turning to his opponent, said, good humouredly, 'You 
 fire, General, with much deliberation, and certainly with a 
 great deal of effect.' The parties then parted,, free from all 
 resentment." 
 
 This patriotic and exemplary man died February 10th, 1786. 
 In his private life he exemplified all the virtues that ennoble 
 the character of man. His conduct was not marked with the 
 least degree of malevolence, or party spirit. Those who hon- 
 
JAMES CLIKTON. 55 
 
 e$t\y differed from him in opinion, he always treated with sin- 
 gular tenderness. In sociability, and cheerfulness of temper, 
 honesty, and goodness of heart, independence of spirit, and 
 warmth of his friendship, he had no superior. Never did any 
 man die more lamented by his friends and neighbours ; to his 
 family and relations, his death was a stroke still more severe. 
 
 JAMES CLINTON, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 General Clinton was the fourth son of Colonel Charles 
 Clinton, and was born in Ulster county, N. Y. August 1 9th, 
 1736. In common with his brothers, he received an excellent 
 education. 
 
 In the critical and eventful affairs of nations, when their 
 rights and their interests are invaded, Providence, in the pleni- 
 tude of its beneficence, has generally provided men qualified 
 to raise the standard of resistance, and has infused a redeem- 
 ing spirit into the community, which enabled it to rise supe- 
 rior to the calamities that menaced its liberty and its prosperity. 
 History does not record a more brilliant illustration of this 
 truth than the American revolution. In defiance of the most 
 appalling considerations, constellations of the most illustrious 
 men, pierced the dark and gloomy clouds which enveloped 
 this oppressed people, and shone forth in the councils and the 
 armies of the nation. Their wisdom drew forth the resources, 
 and their energy vindicated the rights of America. They 
 took their lives in their hands, and liberty or death was inscri- 
 bed on their hearts. Amidst this gallant band, General Clin- 
 ton stood deservedly conspicuous. To an iron constitution and 
 an invincible courage, he added great coolness in action and 
 perseverance in effort. The predominant inclination of his 
 mind was to a military life, and by a close attention to the stu- 
 dies connected with it, he prepared himself to perform those 
 duties which afterward devolved upon him, and thereby esta- 
 blished his character as an intrepid and skilful officer. 
 
56 JAMES CLINTON 
 
 In the war of 1756, usually denominated the French war. 
 Clinton first encountered the fatigues and dangers of a military 
 life. He was a captain under Colonel Bradstreet, at the cap- 
 ture of Fort Frontenac, and rendered essential service in that 
 expedition by the capture of a sloop of war on Lake Ontario. 
 
 "His company was placed in row-galleys, and favoured by 
 a calm, compelled the French vessels to strike after an obstinate 
 resistance. His designation as captain commandant of the 
 four companies, raised for the protection of the western front- 
 iers of the counties of Orange and Ulster, was a post of great 
 responsibility and hazard, and demonstrated the confidence 
 of the government. The safety of a line of settlements, ex- 
 tending at least fifty miles, was intrusted to his vigilance and 
 intrepidity. The ascendency of the French over the ruthless 
 savages, was always predominant, and the inhabitant of the 
 frontiers was compelled to hold the plough with one hand, for 
 his sustenance, and to grasp his gun with the other, for his de^ 
 fence ; and he was constantly in danger of being awakened, in the 
 hour of darkness, by the war-whoop of the savages, to witness 
 the conflagration of his dwelling and the mnrder of his family. 
 
 After the termination of the French war, Mr. Clinton mar- 
 ried Mary De Witt, and he retired from the camp to enjoy the 
 repose of domestic life. 
 
 When the American revolution was on the eve of its com- 
 mencement, he was appointed, on the 30th June, 1775, by the 
 continental congress, colonel of the 3d regiment of New- York 
 forces. On the 25th of October following, he was appointed 
 by the provincial congress of New- York, colonel of the regi- 
 ment of foot in Ulster county; on the 8th of March, 1776, by 
 the continental congress, colonel of the second battalion of New- 
 York troops; and on the 9th of August, 1776, a Brigadier- 
 General in the army of the United States; in which station he 
 continued during the greater part of the war, having the com- 
 mand of the New-York line, or the troops of that state ; and 
 at its close he was constituted a Major-General. 
 
 In 1775, his regiment composed part of the army under 
 General Montgomery, which invaded Canada; and he parti-. 
 
JAMES CLINTON. 57 
 
 cipated in all the fatigues, dangers, and privations, of that cele- 
 brated but unfortunate expedition. 
 
 In October, 1777, he commanded at Fort Clinton, which, 
 together with its neighbour, Fort Montgomery, constituted the 
 defence of the Hudson River, against the ascent of an enemy. 
 His brother, the governor, commanded in chief at both forts. 
 Sir Henry Clinton, with a view to create a division in favour 
 of General Burgoyne, moved up the Hudson with an army of 
 4000 men, and attacked those works, which were very imper- 
 fectly fortified, and only defended by 500 men, composed prin- 
 cipally of militia. After a most gallant resistance, the forts 
 were carried by storm. General Clinton was the last man who 
 left the works, and not until he was severely wounded by the 
 thrust of a bayonet 5 pursued and fired at by the enemy, and 
 his attending servant killed. He bled profusely, and when he 
 dismounted from his war-horse, in order to effect his escape 
 from the enemy, who were close on him, it occurred to him 
 that he must either perish on the mountains or be captured, 
 unless he could supply himself with another horse; an animal 
 which sometimes roamed at large in that wild region. In this 
 emergency he took the bridle from his horse, and slid down a 
 precipice of one hundred feet to the ravine of the creek which 
 separated the forts, and feeling cautiously his way along its 
 precipitous banks, he reached the mountain at a distance from 
 the enemy, after having fallen into the stream, the cold water 
 of which arrested a copious effusion of blood. The return of 
 light furnished him with the sight of a horse, which conveyed 
 him to his house, about sixteen miles from the fort, where he 
 arrived about noon, covered with blood and labouring under a 
 severe fever. In his helpless condition the British passed up 
 the Hudson, within a few miles of his house, and destroyed the 
 town of Kingston. 
 
 The cruel ravages and horrible irruptions of the Iroquois, 
 or six nations of Indians, on our frontier settlements, rendered 
 it necessary to inflict a terrible chastisement, which would pre- 
 vent a repetition of their atrocities. An expedition was ac 
 cordingly planned, and their principal command was commit- 
 8 
 
58 JAMES CLINTON. 
 
 ted to General Sullivan, who was to proceed up the Susquehan- 
 na, with the main body of the army, while General Clinton 
 was to join him by the way of the Mohawk. 
 
 The Iroquois inhabited, or occasionally occupied, that im- 
 mense and fertile region which composes the western parts of 
 New- York and Pennsylvania, and besides their own ravages, 
 from the vicinity of their settlements t& the inhabited parts of 
 the United States, they facilitated the inroads of the more re- 
 mote Indians. When General Sullivan was on his way to the 
 Indian country, he was joined by General Clinton with upwards 
 of sixteen hundred men. The latter had gone up the Mohawk 
 in batteaux, from Schenectady, and after ascending that river 
 about fifty-four miles, he conveyed his batteaux from Canajoha- 
 rie to the head of Otsego Lake, one of the sources of the Sus- 
 quehanna. Finding the stream of water, in that river, too 
 low to float his boats, he erected a dam across the mouth of the 
 lake, which soon rose to the altitude of the dam. Having got 
 his batteaux ready, he opened a passage through the dam for 
 the water to flow. This raised the river so high, that he was 
 enabled to embark all his troops: to float them down to Tioga, 
 and to join General Sullivan in good season. The Indians col- 
 lected their strength at Newtown; took possession of proper 
 ground, and fortified it with judgment, and on the 29th August. 
 1779, an attack was made on them; their works were forced, 
 and their consternation was so great, that they abandoned all 
 further resistance; for, as the Americans advanced into their 
 settlements, they retreated before them without throwing any 
 obstructions in their way. The army passed between the Cay- 
 uga and Seneca lakes, by Geneva and Canandaigua, and as far 
 west as the Gennesee River, destroying large settlements and 
 villages, and fields of corn; orchards of fruit-trees, and gardens 
 abounding with esculent vegetables. The progress of the In 
 dians in agriculture, struck the Americans with astonishment. 
 Many of their ears of corn measured 22 inches in length. 
 They had horses, cows, and hogs, in abundance. They manu- 
 factured salt and sugar, and raised the best of apples and 
 peaches, and their dwellings were large and commodious. 
 
JAMES CLINTON. 59 
 
 The desolation of their settlements, the destruction of their 
 provisions, and the conflagration of their houses, drove them to 
 the British fortresses of Niagara for subsistence, where, living 
 on salt provisions, to which they were unaccustomed, they died 
 in great numbers, and the effect of this expedition, was to di- 
 minish their population; to damp their ardour; to check their 
 arrogance ; to restrain their cruelty, and to inflict an irrecover- 
 able blow on their resources of extensive aggression. 
 
 For a considerable portion of the war, General Clinton was 
 stationed at Albany, where he commanded, in the northern de- 
 partment of the union, a place of high responsibility and re- 
 quiring uncommon vigilance and continual exertion. An inci- 
 dent occurred, when on this command, which strongly illus- 
 trates his character. A regiment which had been ordered to 
 march mutinied under arms, and peremptorily refused obedi- 
 ence. The general, on being apprised of this, immediately 
 repaired with his pistols to the ground: he went up to the head 
 of the regiment and ordered it to march: a silence ensued, and 
 the order was not complied with. He then presented a pistol 
 to the breast of a sergeant, who was the ringleader, and com- 
 manded him to proceed on pain of death; and so on in success- 
 ion along the line, and his command was, in every instance,, 
 obeyed, and the regiment restored to entire and complete sub- 
 ordination and submission. 
 
 General Clinton was at the siege of Yorktown and the cap- 
 ture of Cornwallis, where he distinguished himself by his usual 
 intrepidity. 
 
 His last appearance in arms, was on the evacuation of the 
 city of New- York, by the British. He then bid the command 
 er-in-chief a final and affectionate adieu, and retired to his 
 ample estates, where he enjoyed that repose which was re- 
 quired by a long period of fatigue and privation. 
 
 He was, however, frequently called from his retirement by 
 the unsolicited voice of his fellow-citizens, to perform civic 
 duties. He was appointed a commissioner to adjust the boun- 
 dary line between Pennsylvania and New- York, which impor* 
 1ant measure was amicably and successfully accomplished. He 
 
t>0 JAMES CLINTOK. 
 
 was also selected by the legislature for an interesting mission 
 to settle controversies about lands in the west, which also ter- 
 minated favourably. He represented his native county in the 
 assembly and in the convention that adopted the present con- 
 stitution of the United States, and he was elected, without 
 opposition, a senator from the Middle District; all which trusts 
 he executed with perfect integrity, with solid intelligence, and 
 with the full approbation of his constituents. 
 
 The temper of General Clinton was mild and affectionate, 
 but when raised by unprovoked or unmerited injury, he exhi- 
 bited extraordinary and appalling energy. In battle he was 
 as cool and as collected as if sitting by his fireside. Nature 
 intended him for a gallant and efficient soldier, when she en- 
 dowed him with the faculty of entire self-possession in the 
 midst of the greatest dangers. 
 
 He died on the 2<2H of December, 1812, and was interred 
 in the family burial-place in Orange county, and his monu- 
 mental stone bears the following inscription: 
 
 " Underneath are interred the remains of James Clinton* 
 Esquire. 
 
 "He was born the 9th of August, 1736; and died the 22d 
 of December, 1812. 
 
 " His life was principally devoted to the military service of 
 his country, and he had filled with fidelity and honour, several 
 distinguished civil offices. 
 
 "He was an officer in the revolutionary war, and the war 
 preceding; and, at the close of the former, was a major-gene- 
 ral in the army of the United States. He was a good man 
 and a sincere patriot, performing, in the most exemplary man- 
 ner, all the duties of life: and he died, as he lived, without 
 
 fear, and without reproach." 
 
 [Biographical Dictionary.] 
 
(61 ) ' 
 
 GEORGE CLINTON, 
 
 Brigadier-General in the American Army 
 
 Among the many distinguished patriots of the revolution^ 
 who have become tenants of the tomb, the services of none 
 will be more readily acknowledged, than those of the late 
 venerable George Clinton. He is descended from a respect- 
 able and worthy family, and was born on the 26th July, 1739, 
 in the county of Ulster, in the Colony of New- York. His fa- 
 ther, Colonel Charles Clinton, was an emigrant from Ireland. 
 
 In early youth he was put to the study of law, but long be- 
 fore he became a man, he rallied under the standard of his 
 country, and assisted Amherst in the reduction of Montreal. 
 In this campaign he nobly distinguished himself in a conflict on 
 the northern waters, when, with four gun-boats, after a severe 
 engagement, he captured a French brig of eighteen guns. 
 
 This war being ended, he returned again to his favourite 
 pursuit, the science of the law, and placed himself under the 
 tuition of Chief Justice Smith, where he became a student 
 with Governor Morris, liptwcen whom and himself, a differ- 
 ence of political opinion, in after life wrought a separation. 
 
 He had scarcely commenced as a practitioner, when, in 1765, 
 the storm appeared to gather round his native land, and the 
 tyrannic disposition of the mother country was manifested. 
 Foreseeing the evil at hand, with a mind glowing with patriot- 
 ism, correct and quick in its perceptions; and like time, steady 
 and fixed to the achievement of its objects, he abandoned the 
 advantages of the profession to which he had been educated, 
 and became a member of the colonial legislature; where he 
 ever displayed a love of liberty, an inflexible attachment to the 
 rights of his country, and that undaunted firmness and integ- 
 rity, without which this nation never would have been free; 
 and which has ever formed the most brilliant, though by no 
 means the most useful trait of his character. He was chief of 
 the Whig party. 
 
 In this situation he remained, contending against the doc- 
 trine of British supremacy; and with great strength of argu- 
 
62 GEORGE CLINTON. 
 
 ment, and force of popularity, supporting the rights of Ame- 
 rica, till the crisis arrived when, in 1775, he was returned a 
 member of that patriotic congress, who laid the foundation of 
 our independence. While in this venerable body, it may be 
 said of him with truth, that " he strengthened the feeble knees, 
 and the hands that hang down." On the 4th of July, 1776, he 
 was present at the glorious declaration of independence, and 
 assented with his usual energy and decision, to that measure, 
 but having been appointed a brigadier-general in the militia, 
 and also in the continental army, the exigencies of his coun- 
 try at that trying hour, rendered it necessary for him to take 
 the field in person, and he therefore retired from congress im- 
 mediately after his vote was given, and before the instrument 
 was transcribed for the signature of the members ; for which 
 reason his name does not appear among the signers. 
 
 A constitution having been adopted, for the state of New- 
 York, in April, 1777, he was chosen at the first election under 
 it, both governor and lieutenant-governor, and was continued 
 in the former office for eighteen years. In this year he was 
 also appointed by congress to command the post of the High- 
 lands, a most important and arduous duty. The design of the 
 enemy was to separate New-England from the rest of the na- 
 tion, and by preventing succour from the east, to lay waste 
 the middle and southern country. Had this plan been carried 
 into effect, American liberty would probably have expired in 
 its cradle. It was then that his vast and comprehensive genius 
 viewed in its true light the magnitude of the evil contemplated; 
 and he roused to a degree of energy unknown and unexpected. 
 It was then that Burgoyne was, with the best appointed army 
 ever seen in America, attempting to force his way to Albany, 
 and Howe attempting to effect a junction with him at that 
 important place. 
 
 The crisis was all important, and Clinton did not hesitate 
 — he determined at all hazards to save l|is, country. With this 
 view, when Howe attempted to ascend the river, Clinton from 
 every height and angle assailed him. His gallant defence of 
 Fort Montgomery, with a handful of men, against a powerful 
 
 
GEORGE CLINTON. 63 
 
 force commanded by Sir Henry Clinton, was equally honour- 
 able to his intrepidity and his skill. The following are the 
 particulars of his gallant conduct at the storming of forts Mont- 
 gomery and Clinton, in October, 1777. 
 
 "When the British reinforcements, under General Robert- 
 son, amounting to nearly to 2000 men, arrived from Europe, 
 Sir Henry Clinton used the greatest exertion, and availed 
 himself of every favourable circumstance, to put these troops 
 into immediate operation. Many were sent to suitable vessels, 
 and united in the expedition, which consisted of about 4000 
 men, against the forts in the Highlands. Having made the 
 necessary arrangements, he moved up the North River, and 
 landed on the 4th uf October at Tarry-town, purposely to im- 
 press General Putnam, under whose command a thousand con- 
 tinental troops had been left, with a belief, that his post at 
 Peek's-kill was the object of attack. At eight o'clock at night, 
 the general communicated the intelligence to Governor Clin- 
 ton, of the arrival of the British, and at the same time express- 
 ed his opinion respecting their destination. The designs of Sir 
 Henry were immediately perceived by the governor, who pro- 
 rogued the assembly on the following day, and arrived that 
 night at Fort Montgomery. The British troops in the mean 
 time, were secretly conveyed across the river, and assaults up- 
 on our forts were meditated to be made on the 6th, which were 
 accordingly put in execution, by attacking the American ad- 
 vanced party at Doodletown, about two miles and a half from 
 Fort Montgomery. The Americans received the fire of the 
 British, and retreated to Fort Clinton. The enemy then ad- 
 vanced to the west side of the mountain, in order to attack our 
 troops in the rear. Governor Clinton immediately ordered 
 out a detachment of one hundred men toward Doodletown. 
 and another of sixty, with a brass field piece, to an eligible 
 spot on another road. They were both soon attacked by the 
 whole force of the ene:ny, and compelled to fall back. It has 
 been remarked, that the talents, as well as the temper of a 
 commander, are put to as severe a test in conducting a retreat, 
 as in achieving a victory. The truth of this Governor Clinton 
 
64 GEORGE CLINTON. 
 
 experienced, when, with great bravery, and the most perfect 
 order, he retired till he reached the fort. He lost no time in 
 placing his men in the beet manner that circumstances would 
 admit. His post, however, as well as Fort Clinton, in a few min- 
 utes were invaded on every side. In the midst of this disheart- 
 ening and appalling disaster, he was summoned, when the sun 
 was only an hour high, to surrender in five minutes; but his 
 gallant spirit sternly refused to obey the call. In a short time 
 after, the British made a general and most desperate attack on 
 both posts, which was received by the Americans with undis- 
 mayed courage and resistance. Officers and men, militia and 
 continentals, all behaved alike brave. An incessant fire was 
 kept up till dusk, when our troops were overpuweied by num- 
 bers, who forced tho lines and redoubts at both posts. Many 
 of the Americans fought their way out, others accidentally 
 mixed with the enemy, and thus made their escape effectually: 
 for, besides being favoured by the night, they knew the various 
 avenues in the mountains. The governor, as well as his brother, 
 General James Clinton, who was wounded, were not taken."* 
 
 Howe, driven to madness by the manly resistance of his foes, 
 inconsiderately landed and marched into the country, and im- 
 mortalized -his name by burning Kingston and other villages. 
 But the great object of the expedition, the forming a conjunc- 
 tion with Burgoyne, was happily defeated, by the capture of 
 that general, and America was free. 
 
 From this moment, for eighteen years in succession, he re- 
 mained the governor of New- York, re-elected to that import- 
 ant station by a generous and wise people, who knew how to 
 appreciate his wisdom and virtue, and their own blessings. 
 During this period, he was president of the convention of that 
 state, which ratified the national constitution: when, as in all 
 other situations, he undeviatingly manifested an ardent attach- 
 ment to civil liberty. 
 
 After the life of labour and usefulness, here faintly portray- 
 ed; worn with the fatigues of duty, and with a disease which 
 
 * American Biographical Dictionary. 
 
THOMAS CONWAY. 65 
 
 then afflicted him, but which had been removed for the last 
 eight years of his life; having led his native state to eminent, 
 if not unrivalled importance and prosperity, he retired from 
 public life, with a mind resolved not to mingle again with go- 
 vernmental concerns, and to taste those sweets which result 
 from reflecting on a life well spent. 
 
 In 1805 he was chosen Vice-President of the United States, 
 by the same number of votes that elevated Mr. Jefferson to 
 the presidency; in which station he discharged his duties 
 with unremitted attention; presiding with great dignity in 
 the Senate, and evincing, by his votes and his opinions, his de- 
 cided hostility to constructive authority, and to innovations on 
 the established principles of republican government. 
 
 He died at Washington, when attending to his duties as 
 Vice-President, and was interred in that city, where a monu- 
 ment was erected by the filial piety of his children, with this 
 inscription, written by his nephew : — 
 
 " To the memory of George Clinton. He was born in the 
 state of New- York, on the 26th July, 1739, and died in the 
 city of Washington, on the 20th April, 1812, in the 73d year of 
 his age." 
 
 "He was a soldier and statesman of the revolution. Emi- 
 nent in council, and distinguished in war, he filled, with unex- 
 ampled usefulness, purity, and ability, among many other offi- 
 ces, those of Governor of his native state, and of Vice-Presi- 
 dent of the U. States. While he lived, his virtue, wisdom, and 
 valour were the pride, the ornament, and security of his coun- 
 try, and when he died, he left an illustrious example of a well 
 spent life, worthy of all imitation." 
 
 THOMAS CONWAY, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army, 
 
 M This, gentleman was born in Ireland, and went with his 
 parents to France, at the age of six years, and was from his youth 
 educated to the profession of arms. He had obtained con- 
 
66 THOMAS CONWAY. 
 
 siderabJe reputation as a military officer, and as a man of sound 
 understanding and judgment. He arrived from France with 
 ample recommendations, and congress appointed him a briga- 
 dier-general in May, 1777. He soon became conspicuously 
 inimical to General Washington, and sought. occasions to tra- 
 duce his character. In this he found support from a faction 
 in Congress, who were desirous that the commander-in-chief 
 should be superseded. The congress not long after elected 
 General Conway to the office of Inspector-General to our 
 army, with the rank of Major-General, though he had insulted 
 the commander-in-chief, and justified himself in doing so. — 
 This gave umbrage to the brigadiers over whom he was pro- 
 moted, and they remonstrated to congress against the pro 
 reeding, as implicating their honour and character. Conway, 
 now smarting under the imputation of having instigated a hos- 
 tile faction against the illustrious Washington, and being ex- 
 tremely unpopular among the officers in general, and finding 
 his situation did not accord with his feelings and views, re- 
 signed his commission, without having commenced the duties 
 of inspector. He was believed to be an unprincipled in- 
 triguer, and after his resignation, his calumny and detraction 
 of the commander-in-chief, and the army generally, was exer- 
 cised with unrestrained virulence and outrage. 
 
 No man was more zealously engaged in the scheme of eleva- 
 ting General Gates to the station of commander-in-chief. His 
 vile insinuations and direct assertions in the public newspapers, 
 and in private conversation, relative to the incapacity of Wash 
 ington to conduct the operations of the army, received counte- 
 nance from several members of congress, who were induced 
 to declare their want of confidence in him, and the affair as- 
 sumed an aspect threatening the most disastrous consequences. 
 Conway maintained a correspondence with General dates on 
 the subject, and in one of his letters, he thus expresses him- 
 self: "Heaven has been determined to save your country, or a 
 weak general and bad counsellors would have ruined it." He 
 was himself at that time one of the counsellors, against whom 
 he so basely inveighs. Envy and malice ever are attendant or 
 
WILLIAM DAVIDSON. 67 
 
 exalted genius and merit. ' But the delusion was of short con- 
 tinuance, the name of Washington proved unassailable, and 
 the base intrigue of Conway recoiled with bitterness on hi? 
 own head."* 
 
 General Cadwalader, of Pennsylvania, indignant at the at 
 tempt to vilify the character of Washington, resolved to 
 avenge himself on the aggressor in personal combat. The 
 particulars of this meeting are given in the biography of Gene- 
 ral Cadwalader. General Conway, conceiving his wound to 
 be mortal, and believing death to be near, acted honourably, 
 in addressing to General Washington, whom he had perfidi- 
 ously slandered, the following letter of apology: 
 
 " Philadelphia, Feb. 23, 1778. 
 
 Sir. — I find myself just able to hold my pen during a few 
 minutes, and take this opportunity of expressing my sincere 
 grief for having done, written, or said any thing disagreeable 
 to your Excellency. My career will soon be over, therefore 
 justice and truth prompt me to declare my last sentiments. — 
 You are, in my eyes, the great and good man. May you long 
 enjoy the love, esteem, and veneration of these states, whose 
 liberties you have asserted by your virtues. 
 I am, with the greatest respect, 
 
 Your Excellency's 
 Most obedient and humble Servant, 
 Ths. Conway.' 1 
 
 WILLIAM DAVIDSON, 
 
 Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
 
 William Davidson, Lieutenant-Colonel commandant in the 
 $orth Carolina line, and Brigadier-General in the militia of 
 that state, was the youngest son of George Davidson, who re- 
 moved with his family from Lancaster county, in Pennsylvania, 
 in the year 1750, to Rowan county, in North Carolina. 
 
 ' »iw »— a mwi » * . 
 
 *Thacher's Military Journal 
 
68 WILLIAM DAVIDSON. 
 
 William was born in the year 1746, and was educated in a 
 plain country manner, at an academy in Charlotte, the county 
 town of Mecklenburgh, which adjoins Rowan. 
 
 Like most of the enterprising youth of America, Davidson 
 repaired to the standard of his country, on the commencement 
 of the revolutionary war, and was appointed a major in one of 
 the first regiments formed by the government of North Carolina. 
 
 In this character he marched with the North Carolina line, 
 under Brigadier-General Nash, to the main army in New-Jersey, 
 where he served under the commander-in-chief, until the North 
 Carolina line was detached in November, 1779, to re-inforce 
 the southern army, commanded by Major-General Lincoln.— 
 Previous to this event, Major Davidson was promoted to the 
 command of a regiment, with the rank of a lieutenant-colonel 
 commandant. 
 
 As he passed through North Carolina, Davidson obtained 
 permission to visit his family, from which he had been absent 
 nearly three years. The delay produced by this visit saved 
 him from captivity, as he found Charleston so closely invested 
 when he arrived in its neighbourhood, as to prevent his injunc- 
 tion with his regiment. 
 
 Soon after the surrender of General Lincoln and his army, 
 the loyalists of North Carolina, not doubting the complete 
 success of the royal forces, began to embody themselves for 
 the purpose of contributing their active aid in the field to the 
 subsequent operations of the British general. They were nu- 
 merous in the western parts of the state, and especially in the 
 highland settlement about Cross Creek. Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Davidson put himself at the head of some of our militia, called 
 out to quell the expected insurrection. He proceeded with 
 vigour in the execution of his trust; and in an engagement 
 with a party of loyalists near Calson's mill, he was severely 
 wounded; the ball entered the umbilical region, and passed 
 through his body near the kidneys. This confined him for eight 
 weeks; when recovering, he instantly took the field, having 
 been recently appointed Brigadier-General by the government 
 of North Carolina, in the place of Brigadier-General Ruther- 
 
WILLIAM DAVIDSON. w 
 
 ford, taken at the battle of Camden. He exerted himself, in 
 conjunction with General Sumner and Colonel Davie, to inter- 
 rupt the progress of Lord Cornwallis in his advance towards 
 Salisbury, and throughout that eventful period, gave unceas- 
 ing evidences of his Zeal and firmness in upholding his falling 
 country. 
 
 After the victory obtained by Morgan at the Cowpens, Da- 
 vidson was among the most active of his countrymen in assem- 
 bling the militia of his district, to enable General Greene, who 
 had joined the light corps under Morgan, to stop the progress 
 of the advancing enemy, and was detached by General Greene, 
 on the night- of the last day of January, to guard the very ford 
 selected by Lord Cornwallis for his passage of the Catawba 
 River on the next morning. Davidson possessed himself of the 
 post in the night, at the head of three hundred men ; and ha- 
 ving placed a picquet near the shore, stationed his corps at 
 some small distance from the ford. 
 
 General Henry Lee, from whose memoirs of the war in the 
 Southern department of the United States, we copy the pre- 
 sent sketch of General Davidson, gives the following account 
 of the battle: 
 
 "A disposition was immediately made to dislodge Davidson, 
 which the British General O'Harra, with the guards, effected. 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Hall, led with the light company > followed 
 by the grenadiers. The current was rapid, the stream waist 
 deep, and five hundred yards in width. The soldiers crossed 
 in platoons, supporting each other's steps. When Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Hall reached the river, he was descried by the Ameri- 
 can sentinels, whose challenge and fire brought Davidson's 
 corps into array. Deserted by his guide, Hall passed directly 
 across, not knowing the landing place, which lay below him. 
 This deviation from the common course, rendered it necessary 
 for Davidson to incline to the right; but this manoeuvre, al- 
 though promptly performed, was not effected until the light 
 infantry had gained the shore. A fierce conflict ensued, which 
 was well supported by Davidson and his inferior force. The 
 militia at length yielded, and Davidson, while mounting his 
 
70 WILLIAM DAVIDSOfc. 
 
 horse to direct the retreat, was killed. The corps dispersed* 
 and sought safety in the woods. Our loss was small excepting 
 General Davidson, an active, zealous, and influential officer. 
 The British Lieutenant-Colonel Hdll was also killed, with three 
 of the light infantry, and thirty-six were wounded. Lord Corn- 
 wallis's horse was shot under him, and fell as soon as he got 
 upon the shore. Leslee's horses were carried down the stream, 
 and with difficulty saved ; and O'Harra's tumbled over with 
 him into the water." 
 
 The loss of Brigadier-General Davidson would always have 
 been felt in any stage of the war. It was particularly detri- 
 mental in its effect at this period, as he was the chief instrument 
 relied upon by General Greene for the assemblage of the mili- 
 tia; an event all important at this crisis, and anxiously desired 
 by the American general. The ball passed through his breast, 
 and he instantly fell dead. 
 
 This promising soldier was thus lost to his country in the 
 meridian of life, and at a moment when his services would have 
 been highly beneficial to her. He was a man of popular man- 
 ners, pleasing address, active and indefatigable. Enamoured 
 with the profession of arms, and devoted to the great cause for 
 which he fought, his future usefulness may be inferred from his 
 former conduct. 
 
 The Congress of the United States, in gratitude for his servi- 
 ces, and in commemoration of their sense of his worth, passed 
 the following resolution, directing the erection of a monument 
 to his memory: — 
 
 Resolved, That the governor and state of North Carolina, 
 be desired to erect a monument, at the expense of the United 
 States, not exceeding the value of five hundred dollars, to the 
 memory of the late Brigadier-General Davidson, who com- 
 manded the militia of the district of Salisbury, in the state of 
 North Carolina, and was killed on the first day of February 
 last, fighting gallantly in the defence of the liberty and inde- 
 pendence of these states."* 
 
 ♦American Biographical Dictionary. 
 
(71 ) 
 
 WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE, 
 
 Colonel Commandant of the State Cavalry of North Carolina. 
 
 Colonel Davie was born in the village of Egremont, in^Eng* 
 land, on the 20th June, 1759. His father, visiting South 
 Carolina soon after the peace of 1763, brought with him his 
 son; and returning to England, confided him to the Rev. Wil- 
 liam Richardson, his maternal uncle; who becoming much 
 attached to his nephew, not only took charge of his education, 
 but adopted him as his son and heir. At the proper age, Wil- 
 liam was sent to an academy in North Carolina; from whence 
 he was, after a few years, removed to the college of Nassau 
 Hall, in Princeton, New- Jersey, then becoming the resort of 
 most of the southern youth under the auspices of the learned 
 and respectable Dr. Witherspoon. Here he finished his edu- 
 cation, graduating in the autumn of 1776, a year memorable in 
 our military as well as civil annals. 
 
 Returning home, young Davie found himself shut out for a 
 time from the army, as the commissions for the troops just levied 
 had been issued. He went to Salisbury, where he commenced 
 the study of law. The war continuing, contrary to the expec- 
 tations which generally prevailed when it began, Davie could 
 no longer resist the wish to plant himself among the defenders 
 of his country. Inducing a worthy and popular friend, rather 
 too old for military service, to raise a troop of dragoons as the 
 readiest mode of accomplishing his object, Davie obtained a 
 lieutenancy in this troop. Without delay the captain joined 
 the Southern army, and soon afterwards returned home on a 
 furlough. The command of the troop devolving on Lieutenant 
 Davie, it was, at his request, annexed to the legion of Count 
 Pulaski, where Captain Davie continued, until promoted by 
 Major-General Lincoln to the station of Brigade Major of cav- 
 alry. In this office Davie served until the affair at Stono, 
 devoting his leisure to the acquirement of professional know- 
 ledge, and rising fast in the esteem of the general and army. 
 When Lincoln attempted to dislodge Lieutenant Colonel Mait- 
 
72 WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. 
 
 land from his entrenched camp on the Stono, Davie received a 
 severe wound, and was removed from camp to the hospital in 
 Charleston, where he was confined five months. 
 
 Sjpon after his recovery he was empowered by the govern 
 ment»of*North Carolina to raise a small legionary corps, con- 
 sisting of one troop of dragoons and two companies of mounted 
 infantry ; at the head of which he was placed with the rank of 
 major. 
 
 Quickly succeeding in completing his corps, in whose equip 
 ment he expended the last remaining shilling of an estate be- 
 queathed to him by his uncle, he took the field, and was sedu- 
 lously engaged in protecting the country between Charlotte and 
 Camden, from the enemy's predatory excursions. On the fatal 
 19th of August he was hastening with his corps to join the army, 
 when he met our dispersed and flying trtops. He nevertheless^ 
 continued to advance toward the conqueror; and by his pru- 
 dence, zeal, and vigilance, saved a few of our wagons, and 
 many of our stragglers. Acquainted with the movement of 
 Sumpter, and justly apprehending that he would be destroyed 
 unless speedily advised of the defeat of Gates, he despatched 
 immediately a courier to that officer, communicating what had 
 happened, performing, in the midst of distress and confusion,, 
 the part of an experienced captain. 
 
 So much was his conduct respected by the government of 
 North Carolina, that he was in the course of September pro- 
 moted- to the rank of colonel commandant of the cavalry of the 
 state. 
 
 At the two gloomiest epochs of the southern war, soon after 
 the fall of Charleston and the overthrow of Gates, it was the 
 good fortune of Colonel Davie, to be the first to shed a gleam 
 through the surrounding darkness, and give hope to the coun- 
 try, by the brilliancy of his exploits. In one instance, without 
 loss or injury, on his part, he entirely destroyed an escort of 
 provisions, taking 40 prisoners, with their horses and arms. In 
 the other, under the immediate eye of a large British force, 
 which was actually beating to arms, to attack him, he routed 
 a party stronger than his own, killing and wounding 60 of the 
 
WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. >3 
 
 enemy, and carrying off with him 96 horses and 120 stand of 
 arms. 
 
 When Lord Cornwallis entered Charlotte, a small village in 
 North Carolina, Colonel Davie, at the head of his detachment, 
 threw himself in his front, determined to give him a specimen 
 of the firmness an^gallantry, with which the inhabitants of the 
 place were prepared to dispute with his lordship their native 
 soil. 
 
 Colonel Tarlton's legion formed the British van, led by Ma- 
 jor Hanger, the commander himself being confined by sickness. 
 When that celebrated corps bad advanced near to the centre 
 of the village, where the Americans were posted, Davie pour- 
 ed into it so destructive a fire, that it immediately wheeled, and 
 retired in disorder. Being rallied on the commons, and again 
 led on to the charge, it received on the same spot, another fire 
 "with similar effect. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis witnessing the confusion, thus produced, 
 among his choisest troops, rode up in person, and in a tone of 
 dissatisfaction, upbraided the legion with unsoldierly conduct, 
 reminding it of its former exploits and reputation. 
 
 Pressed on his flanks by the British infantry, Colonel Davie 
 had now fallen back to a new and well selected position. To 
 dislodge him from this, the legion cavalry advanced on him, a 
 third time, in rapid charge, in full view of their commander-in- 
 chief, but in vain. Another fire from the American marksmen, 
 killed several of their officers, wounded Major Hanger, and 
 repulsed them again with increased confusion. 
 
 The main body of the British being now within musket shot, 
 the American leader abandoned the contest. 
 
 It was by strokes like these, that he seriously crippled and 
 intimidated his enemy, acquired an elevated standing in the 
 estimation of his friends and served very essentially the inter- 
 est of freedom. v. 
 
 In this station he was found by General Greene, on assuming 
 the command of the southern army ; whose attention had been 
 occupied from his entrance into North Carolina, in remedying 
 *he disorder in the quarter-master and commissary depart 
 
 10 
 
74 WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE. 
 
 ments. To the first, Carrington had heen called ; and Davie 
 was now induced to take upon himself the last, much as he 
 preferred the station he then possessed. At the head of this 
 department, Colonel Davie remained throughout the trying 
 campaign which followed ; contributing greatly by his talents, 
 his zeal, his local knowledge, and his influence, to the main- 
 tenance of the dfficult and successful operations which follow- 
 ed. While before Ninety-six, Greene, foreseeing the difficul- 
 ties again to be encountered, in consequence of the accessioil 
 of force to the enemy by the arrival of three regiments of in- 
 fantry from Ireland, determined to send a confidential officer 
 to the legislature of North Carolina, then in session, to repre- 
 sent to them his relative condition, and to urge their adoption 
 of effectual measures without delay, for the collection of maga- 
 zines of provisions and the reinforcement of the army. Colo- 
 nel Davie was selected by Greene for this important mission, 
 and immediately repaired to the seat of government, where he 
 ably and faithfully exerted himself to give effect to the views 
 of his general. 
 
 The effect of the capture of Cornwallis assuring the quick 
 return of peace, Colonel Davie returned home, and resumed 
 the profession with the practice of the law in the town of Hali- 
 fax, on the Roanoke. 
 
 He was afterward governor of North Carolina, and one of 
 our ambassadors to France, at a very portentous conjuncture. 
 
 The war in the south was ennobled by great and signal 
 instances of individual and partizan valour and enterprise. 
 Scarcely do the most high drawn heroes of fiction, surpass, in 
 their darings and extraordinary achievements, many of the 
 real ones of Pickens, Marion, Sumpter, and Davie, who figured 
 in the southern states, during the conflict of the revolution. 
 
 Colonel Davie, although younger by several years, possessed 
 talents of a higher order, and was much more accomplished, 
 in education and manners, than either of his three competitors 
 for fame. For the comeliness of his person, his martial air, 
 his excellence in horsemanship, and his consummate powers 
 of field eloquence, he had scarcely an equal in the armies of 
 
HENRY DEARBORN 75 
 
 his country. But his chief excellence lay in the magnanimity 
 and generosity of his soul, his daring courage, his vigilance and 
 address, and his unrelaxing activity and endurance of toil. If 
 he was less frequently engaged in actual combat, than either 
 of his three compeers, it was not because he was inferior to 
 either of them in enterprise, 1 or love of battle. His district 
 "being more interior, was, at first, less frequently invaded by 
 British detachments. When, however, lord Cornwallis ulti- 
 mately advanced into that quarter, his scouts and foraging 
 parties, found in Colonel Davie, and his brave associates, as 
 formidable an enemy as they had ever encountered. 
 
 HENRY DEARBORN, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 The subjoined sketch of the revolutionary services rendered 
 by General Dearborn, is collected from his brothers in arms. 
 
 When the British sent a detachment to destroy the military 
 stores in the vicinity of Lexington, Mr. Dearborn, then a young 
 gentleman in the study of medicine, resided at Nottingham, in 
 New-Hampshire. Animated by the patriotic resistance of the 
 Americans, immediately upon being informed of the battle, he 
 assembled the inhabitants, and observed that the time had now 
 arrived, when the rights of the American people must be 
 vindicated by arms, or an odious despotism would for ever be 
 riveted upon them. The militia had already gathered; and 
 impressed with these sentiments, a company of 65 men, armed 
 and accoutred, paraded at 10 o'clock of the next day after the 
 battle of Lexington. Dearborn advanced with them in such 
 rapidity, that thoy reached Cambridge common, a distance of 
 iifty miles, in twenty hours. After remaining at Cambridge 
 for several days, there being no immediate occasion for their 
 services, they returned. Dearborn was soon after commission- 
 ed a captain in one of the New-Hampshire regiments, under 
 the command of Colonel Stark, and such was his popularity 
 and the confidonm of iho people in bis bravery and conduct 
 
70 JIENRY DEARBORN*. 
 
 that in ten days from the time he received his commission, he 
 enlisted 'a full company, and again marched to Cambridge. 
 On the glorious seventeenth of June, information was received 
 at Mystic (now Medford) where Dearborn was stationed, that 
 the British were preparing to come out from Boston, and storm 
 the works which had been thrown- up on Breed's Hill the night 
 before, by the Americans. 
 
 The regiment to which he was attached was immediatelv 
 paraded, and marched to Charlesfown Neck. Dearborn's 
 company composed the flank guard to the regiment. They 
 crossed the Neck under a galling fire from the British men of 
 war and floating batteries, and having sustained some loss, 
 arrived at the heights. The action soon commenced, and the 
 Americans stood their ground until their amunition was expend- 
 ed, and they could no longer beat off the British bayonets with 
 the but-ends of their muskets. Dearborn carried a fusee into 
 the battle of Bunker's Hill, and fired regularly with his men. 
 
 The next arduous service in which he was engaged, was the 
 expedition to Canada, through the wilds of Kennebec, under 
 the command of General Arnold. He was not ordered on 
 this dangerous and difficult service, but persuaded a captain, 
 who was drafted, to exchange places with him. Thirty-tWo 
 days were employed in traversing the hideous wilderness be- 
 tween the settlements on the Kennebec and the Chaudiere, in 
 which every hardship and fatigue, of which human nature 
 is capable, was endured indiscriminately by the officers and 
 troops. On the highlands, between the Kennebec and St. 
 Lawrence, the remnant of provisions was divided among the 
 companies, who were directed to make the best of their way 
 in separate divisions to the settlement of Chaudiere. The 
 last payment of food in Dearborn's company was shortly con- 
 sumed, and he was reduced to the extremity of dividing a 
 large dog which accompanied him, with his associates. When 
 they reached the Chaudiere, from colds, extreme hardship, and" 
 want of sustenance, his strength failed him, and he was unable 
 to walk but a short distance without walking into the river to 
 fefrigeraU' and stimulate his limbs. With difficulty he reach- 
 
HENRY DEARBORN. 77 
 
 ed a poor hut, on the Chaudiere, where he told his men he 
 could accompany them no further, animated them forward to 
 a glorious discharge of their duty, and would suffer no one to 
 remain to attend him in his illness. His company left him 
 with tears in their eyes, expecting to see him no more. Dear- 
 born was here seized with a violent fever, during which his 
 life was in danger for teu days, without physician or medicine, 
 and with scarcely the common necessaries of life. — His fine 
 constitution at last surmounted his disease, and as soon as he 
 was able to mount a horse, he proceeded to Point Levi, crossed 
 over to Wolf's Cove, and made his unexpected appearance at 
 the head of his company a few days before the assault on Quebec, 
 At four o'clock in the morning of the 31st December, in a severe 
 snow storm, and in a climate that vies with Norway in temped 
 and in intense cold, the attack was commenced. Dearborn 
 was attached to the corps under General Arnold, who was 
 wounded early in the action, and carried from the field. Mor- 
 gan succeeded to the command, and "with a voice louder 
 than the tempest,", animated the troops as they stormed the 
 first barrier and entered the town. Montgomery had already 
 bled on immortal ground, and his division being repulsed, the 
 corps under Morgan was exposed to a sanguinary but unavail- 
 ing contest. From the windows of the store-houses, each a 
 castle, and from the tops of the parapets, a destructive fire was 
 poured upon the assailants. In vain was the second barrier 
 gained by scaling ladders; double ranks of soldiers presented 
 a forest of bayonets below, and threatened inevitable destruc- 
 tion to any one who should leap from the walls. Dearborn 
 maintained for a long time this desperate warfare, until at last 
 he and the remnant of his company, were overpowered by a 
 sortie of 200 men, with field pieces, who attacked him in front 
 and rear, in a short street, and compelled him to surrender. 
 The whole corps, originally led on by Arnold, wore killed or 
 made prisoners of war. 
 
 Dearborn was now put into rigid confinement, with a num- 
 ber of other officers, who were not allowed to converse with 
 each other, unless in the presence of the officer of the guard. 
 
87 HENRY DEARBORN. 
 
 While n» prison he was urgently solicited by the English offi- 
 cers to join the British; was promised a colonel's commission 
 if he would accept, and was assured if he refused, that he would 
 be sent out to England in the spring, and be inevitably hanged 
 as a rebel. The only reply he made to their solicitations' or 
 menaces, was, th^it he had taken up arms in defence of the 
 liberties and the rights of his country; that he never would 
 disgrace himself, or dishonor his profession by receiving any 
 appointment under Great Britain, but was ready to meet death 
 in any shape rather than relinquish the glorious cause he had 
 espoused. 
 
 In May, 1776, Colonel Meigs and himself were peufnitted to 
 return on their parole. They were sent round to Halifax in a 
 ship of war, and treated with the usual contempt and hauteur 
 of English officers, who would not deign to speak to Americans,, 
 nor even allow them to walk the same side of the quarter deck 
 with themselves. They were put ashore in Penobscot Bay, 
 and returned by land. In the March following Dearborn was 
 exchanged, and appointed Major to the 3d New-Hampshire 
 regiment, commanded by Colonel Scammell. In May he arri- 
 ved at Ticonderoga, and was constantly in tlie rear guard, skir- 
 mishing with the British and Indians, in the retreat of St. Clair, 
 when pressed on by Burgoyne's army. 
 
 When the advance of Burgoyne was checked, and he en- 
 camped on the heights of Saratoga, Dearborn was appointed 
 Lieut. Col. commandant of a parlizan corps of 300 men, sta- 
 tioned in front, to act as a corps of observation in concert with 
 Morgan's riflemen. In the famous engagement of the 19th of 
 September, Colonel Morgan himself commenced the encounter 
 by driving in the out-posts and picket-guards of the right wing 
 of the British army, which was commanded by General Bur- 
 goyne in person. In the hard fought battle of the 7th of Oc- 
 tober, he was in the; division of General Arnold, who commen- 
 ced a furious and persevering attack on the right wing of the 
 British forces. Whilst Arnold pressed hard on the enemy, 
 Dearborn was ordered to pass the right, and take possession of 
 eight heavy cannon, which played over the British into the 
 
HENRY DEARBORN. ^ 
 
 American lines. In executing this order he was charged by 
 a carps of light infantry, which he repulsed with fixed bayo- 
 nets, gained the eminence, took the cannon and the corps of 
 artillery attached to them} and having disposed of them, made 
 a rapid movement into the rear of the British lines, and gave 
 a full fire before his approach was discovered. The British 
 were soon after forced to a. pecipitate retreat, and Dearborn 
 assisted in storming their works through the whole extent, 
 under a tremendous fire of grape and musketry. Arnold was 
 wounded in the same leg, which suffered when Dearborn fol- 
 lowed him to the assault of Quebec, and was repulsed from 
 the works after having gained a temporary possession of 
 them; but Lieutenant-Colonel Brooks having gained the left 
 of the encampment, was enabled to maintain his ground. Du- 
 ring the long contested battle, which decided the fate of Bur- 
 goyne's army, Dearborn was unable to rest, or take any refresh- 
 ments, from daylight until late at night. The succeeding winter 
 lie passed in camp at Valley Forge, with the main body of the 
 American army, commanded by General Washington in person. 
 At the battle of Monmouth, the spirited conduct of Colonel 
 Dearborn, and the corps under his command, attracted particu- 
 larly the attention of the commander-in-chief. After Lee had 
 made a precipitate and unexpected retreat, Washington, among 
 other measures which he took to check the advance of the 
 British, ordered Dearborn with 350 men, to attack a body of 
 troops which were passing through an orchard on the right 
 wing of the enemy. The Americans advanced under a hea- 
 vy fire, with a rapid movement, and shouldered arms. — The 
 enemy filed off and formed on the edge of a morass; the Ame- 
 ricans wheeled to the right, received their second fire with 
 shouldered arms; marched up until within eight rods, dressed, 
 gave a full fire, and charged bayonets. The British having 
 sustained considerable loss, fled with precipitation across the 
 morass, where they were protected by the main body of the 
 army. " What troops are those?" inquired Washington, with 
 evident pleasure at their gallant conduct: — "Full blooded 
 Yankees from New-Hampshire, sir." replied Dearborn." 
 
80 EVAN EDWARDS 
 
 When the disaffection and treason of Arnold transpired, he 
 was stationed at West Point, and was officer of the day at the 
 execution of Major Andre. 
 
 In 1781, he was appointed Deputv-Quartermaster-General, 
 with the rank of Colonel, and served in that capacity at the 
 siege of Yorktown. In short, there was scarcely a battle ber 
 tween Yorktown and Quebec, during the long protracted war, 
 ^n which Colonel Dearborn did not take a brave, active, and 
 conspicuous part. 
 
 EVAN EDWARDS, 
 
 Major in the American Army. 
 
 « 
 The following interesting account is taken fro'm Garden's 
 
 "Anecdotes of the Revolutionary War." 
 
 " Among the meritorious officers who gained distinction in 
 the service, there were few who better deserved, or in a more 
 extensive degree obtained the respect of the public, and affec- 
 tionate esteem of his military associates, than Major Edwards. 
 
 " The Major was of the Baptist persuasion, and originally 
 designed for the Ministry, but imbibing the military spirit of the 
 times, entered the army, and appeared, at the commencement 
 of the war, as one of the defenders of Fort Washington. A 
 brave and stubborn resistance could not save the post, which 
 fell into the hands of the enemy, and Edwards became a pri- 
 ioner. I have often heard him make a jest of the whimsical 
 and fantastical figure which he exhibited on this occasion. 'It 
 was not to be wondered,' he said, ' that starch in person, ema- 
 ciated as an anatomy, with rueful countenance, rendered more 
 ghastly by misfortune, my dress partly military, but showing 
 much of a clerical cut, that the risibility of the conqueror? 
 should have been very highly excited. One of the leaders, 
 however, of the successful assailants, anxious to excite a still 
 tiigher degree of merriment, ordered- me to ascend a cart, and 
 as a genuine specimen of a rebel officer, directed that I should 
 be paraded through the principal streets of Nrw-Yorlc\ It 
 
EVAN EDWARDS. 81 
 
 was at the entrance of Canvass Town, that I was much amu- 
 sed by the exclamation of a Scottish female follower of the 
 camp, who called to a companion — 'Quick, quick, lassie, rin 
 hither a wee, and devarteyoursel', they've cotch'd a braw and 
 bonny rebel, 'twill do ye guid to laugh at him.' Hooting and 
 derision attended my whole career, and at the conclusion of 
 the farce I was committed to prison.' 
 
 " In the eventful changes of the war it so happened, that the 
 very individual who had so ungenerously abused his power, 
 became a captive, experiencing the additional mortification of 
 yielding his sword into the hands of the man so lately treated 
 with scornful indignity. Struck with the singularity of the 
 rencounter, and thoroughly ashamed of his former behaviour, 
 he with frankness said: ' You are the last man, sir, that I wish- 
 ed to meet on such an occasion, for no one have I ever so want- 
 only offended ; from you I have nothing to look for but merited 
 retaliation.' 'Not a word more on the subject, I beseech you, 
 sir, was the reply of ^Edwards, ' the surrender of your sword 
 destroyed every recollection of former animosity: rest assur- 
 ed, therefore, that while you remain with us, it will be equally 
 my pride and pleasure to sooth the pains of captivity, and to 
 render you every service in my power.' 
 
 "The cheerful disposition of Edwards, rendered him, as I 
 have already stated, an universal favourite. The occasional 
 indulgence of satirical propensities, peculiarly so of General 
 Charles Lee, who made him his Aid-de-Camp, and at his death 
 left him a third of his estate. I never knew him, however, 
 make an ill-natured remark, where he was not provoked to do 
 so — then, indeed, he spared not. 
 
 " A Colonel in the army, who was too much inclined to be 
 poetical in his prose, telling Edwards, that he had heard a re- 
 port concerning him, that had greatly amused him, the Major 
 assured him that it was altogether without foundation. 'O, 
 no,' said the Colonel, "deny it not — it must be true, and I 
 will report and give it currency.' 'Thank you, thank you, 
 kind Sir,' rejoined Edwards, ^your doing so, will save me the 
 trouble of contradicting it.' " 
 11 
 
(82) 
 
 CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN, 
 
 Brigadier-General, and Lieutenant-Governor of South Carolina. 
 
 This venerable patriot of the revolution, was born in 
 Charleston, about the year 1724. He was sent to England by 
 his father, while a youth, where he was educated. At the 
 age of sixteen he returned to Carolina, and finished his educa- 
 tion in the counting house of Mr. Lawrence of Philadelphia. 
 
 General Gadsden had naturally a strong love for indepen- 
 dence. He was born a republican. Under a well ordered 
 government, he was a good subject, but could not brook the 
 encroachments of any man, or body of men to entrench on his 
 rights. 
 
 "As early as 1766," says Judge Johnson, "there was at least 
 one man in South Carolina, who foresaid and foretold the views 
 of the British government, and explicitly urged his adherents 
 to the resolution, to resist even to death. General Gadsden, 
 it is well known, always favoured the most decisive and ener- 
 getic measures. He thought it folly to temporize, and insisted 
 that cordial reconciliation, on honourable terms, was impos- 
 sible. When the news of the repeal of the stamp-act arrived, 
 and the whole community was in ecstacy at the event, he, on 
 the contrary, received it with indignation, and privately con- 
 vening a party of his friends, he harangued them at consider- 
 able length on the folly of relaxing their opposition and vigif 
 lance, or indulging the fallacious hope, that Great Britain 
 would relinquish her designs, or pretensions. He drew their 
 attention to the preamble of the act, and forcibly pressed upon 
 them the absurdity of rejoicing at an act that still asserted and 
 maintained the absolute dominion over them. And then re- 
 viewing all the chances of succeeding in a struggle to break 
 The fetters, when again imposed upon them, he pressed them 
 to prepare their minds for the event. The address was re- 
 ceived with silent but profound devotion, and with linked 
 hands, the whole party pledged themselves to resist; a pledge 
 that was faithfully redeemed, when the hour of trial arrived." 
 
CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 8S 
 
 "In June 1775, when the provincial congress determined to 
 raise troops, Gadsden, though absent on public duty at Phila- 
 delphia, was, without his consent or knowledge, elected colonel 
 of the first regiment. For personal courage he was inferior 
 to no man. In knowledge of the military art he had several 
 equals, and some superiors ; but from the great confidence re- 
 posed in his patriotism, and the popularity of his name, he was 
 put at the head of the new military establishment. He left 
 congress and repaired to the camp in Carolina, declaring that 
 "wherever his country placed him, whether in the civil or mili- 
 tary department; and if in the latter, whether as corporal or 
 colonel, he would cheerfully serve to the utmost of his ability. 1 ' 
 
 In the next year he was promoted by congress to the rank 
 of brigadier-general. He commanded at Fort Johnson, when 
 the fort on Sullivan's Island was attacked; and he was pre- 
 pared to receive the enemy in their progress to Charleston. 
 The repulse of the British prevented his coming into action. 
 Their retreat relieved South Carolina from the pressure of 
 war for two years. In this period, Gadsden resigned his mili- 
 tary command, but continued to serve in the assembly and the 
 privy council, and was very active in preparing for and endea- 
 vouring to repel the successive invasions of the state by the 
 British in 1779, and 1780. He was the friend of every vigo- 
 rous measure, and always ready to undertake the most labo- 
 rious duties, and to put himself in the front of danger. 
 
 When Charleston surrendered by capitulation, he was lieu- 
 tenant-governor, and paroled as such, and honourably kept his 
 engagement. For the three months which followed, he was 
 undisturbed; but on the defeat of Gates in August 1780, the 
 British resolved that he and several others who discovered no 
 disposition to return to the condition of British subjects, should 
 be sent out of the country. He was accordingly taken in his 
 own house by a file of soldiers, and put on board a vessel in 
 the harbour. He knew not why he was taken up, nor what 
 was intended to be done with him, but supposed it was intro- 
 ductory to a trial for treason or rebellion, as the British gave 
 out that the country was completely conquered. 
 
84 CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 
 
 He was soon joined by twenty-eight compatriots, who were 
 also taken up on the same day. 
 
 He drew from his pocket half a dollar, and turning to his 
 associates with a cheerful countenance, assured them that was 
 all the money he had at his command. The conquerors sent 
 him and his companions to St. Augustine, then a British garrison. 
 
 On their landing, limits of some extent were offered to them 
 on condition of their renewing the parole they had given in 
 Charleston, "to do nothing injurious to the British interest." 
 When this was tendered to General Gadsden, he replied, "that 
 he had already given one, and honorably observed it; that in 
 violation of his rights as a prisoner under a capitulation, he had 
 been sent from Charleston, and that therefore he saw no use in 
 giving a second parole." The commanding officer replied, "he 
 would enter into no arguments, but demanded an explicit an- 
 swer whether he would or would not renew his parole." Gene- 
 ral Gadsden answered with that high-minded republican spirit 
 which misfortunes could not keep down, "I will not. In God 
 I put my trust, and fear no consequences." "Think better of 
 it, sir," said the officer, "a second refusal will fix your destiny; 
 a dungeon will be your future habitation." " Prepare it then," 
 said the inflexible patriot, "I will give no parole, so help me 
 God" — He was instantly hurried off to the eastle, and there 
 confined for ten months in a small room, and in a state of com- 
 plete separation from his fellow-prisoners, and in total igno- 
 rance of the advantages gained by his countrymen, but with 
 most ample details of their defeats, and particularly of the 
 sequestration of his estate with that of the other Carolina 
 rebels. 
 
 After Andre's arrest, Colonel Glazier, the governor of the 
 castle, sent to advise General Gadsden to prepare himself for 
 the worst, intimating that as General Washington had been 
 assured of retaliation, if Andre was executed, it was not un 
 likely that he would be the person selected. To this message 
 he magnanimously replied, " That he was always prepared to 
 die for his country, and that he would rather ascend the scaffold 
 than purchase with his life the dishonour of his country" 
 
CHRISTOPHER GADSDEN. 85 
 
 "In the course of 1781, the victories of General Greene 
 procured an equivalent for the release of all the prisoners be- 
 longing to South Carolina. Mr. Gadsden was discharged from 
 close confinement and rejoined his fellow-prisoners. The re- 
 ciprocal congratulations on the change of circumstances and 
 on seeing each other after ten months separation, though in the 
 same garrison, may be more easily conceived than expressed. 
 They were all conveyed by water from St. Augustine to Phila- 
 delphia, and there delivered. On their arrival they were iii- 
 foTmed, fOr the first time, of the happy turn American affairs 
 had taken subsequent to Gates's defeat. General Gadsdei 
 hastened back to Carolina to aid in recovering it from th2 
 British. He was elected a member of the assembly which 
 met at Jacksonborough in 1 782. 
 
 General Gadsden continued in the country throughout the 
 year 1782, serving as one of the governor's council. On the 
 14th of December, 1782, he with the American army and 
 citizens, made their triumphant entry into Charleston in the 
 rear of the evacuating British. In the first moment of his re- 
 turn, after an absence of more than two years, he had the plea- 
 sure of seeing the British fleet, upward of 300 sail, in the act 
 of departing from the port, and the capital, as well as the 
 country, restored to its proper owners. Mr. Gadsden hence- 
 forward devoted himself to private pursuits, but occasionally 
 served in the assembly, and with unspeakable delight in the 
 ftvo state conventions ; the one for the ratification of the na- 
 tional constitution in 1788, and the other for revising the state 
 constitution in 1790. 
 
 He survived his 81st year, generally enjoying good health, 
 and at last died more from the consequences of an accidental 
 fall than the weight of disease or decays of nature. 
 
 His opinions of lawyers were not favourable. He consider- 
 ed their pleadings as generally tending to obscure what was 
 plain, and to make difficulties where there were none j and 
 much more subservient to render their trade lucrative than to 
 advance justice. He adhered to that clause of Mr. Locke's 
 fundamental constitution, which makes it " a base and vile thing 
 
80 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 to plead for money or reward;" and wished that the lawyers, 
 when necessary to justice, should be provided with salaries at 
 the public expense, like the judges, that they might be saved 
 from the shame of hiring their tongues to the first who offered 
 or gave the largest fee. Of physicians he thought very little. 
 He considered temperance and exercise superior to all their pre- 
 scriptions, and that in most cases they rendered them altogether 
 unnecessary. In many things he was particular. His passions 
 yere strong, and required all his religion and philosophy to 
 curb them. His patriotism was both disinterested and ardent. 
 He declined all offices of profit, and through life refused to 
 take the compensations annexed by law to such offices of trust 
 as were conferred on him. His character was impressed with 
 ihe hardihood of antiquity; and he possessed an erect, firm, 
 intrepid mind, which was well calculated for buffeting with 
 revolutionary storms.' 1 '* 
 
 HORATIO GATES, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army 
 
 6teneral Gates was a native of England, and was born in 
 the year 1728. He was educated to the military profession, 
 and entered the British army at an early age, in the capacity 
 of lieutenant, where he laid the foundation of his future mili- 
 tary excellence. Without purchase he obtained the rank of 
 Major. He was aid to General Monckton, at the capture of 
 Martinico, and after the peace of Aix la Chapelle he was 
 among the first troops which landed at Halifax under General 
 Comwallis. He was an officer in the army which accompa- 
 nied the unfortunate Braddock, in the expedition against Fort 
 du Quesne, in the year 1755, and was shot through the body. 
 
 When peace was concluded, he purchased an estate in Vir- 
 ginia, where he resided until the commencement of the Ame- 
 rican war, in 1775. Having evinced his zeal and attachment 
 to the violated rights of his adopted country, and sustaining a 
 
 * Ramsey's Hist. South Carolina. 
 
HORATIO GATES. 8"/ 
 
 high military reputation, he was appointed by congress adjutant 
 general, with the rank of brigadier, and he accompanied Gen. 
 Washington to the American camp at Cambridge, in July, 1775, 
 where he was employed for some time in a subordinate, but 
 highly useful capacity. 
 
 In June, 1776, Gates was appointed to the command of the 
 army of Canada, and on reaching Ticonderoga he still claimed 
 the command of it, though it was no longer in Canada, and was 
 in the department of Gen. Schuyler, a senior officer, who had 
 rendered eminent services in that command. On representa- 
 tion to Congress, it was declared not to be their intention to 
 place Gates over Schuyler, and it was recommended to these 
 officers to endeavour to co-operate harmoniously. Gen. Schuy- 
 ler was, however, shortly after directed by Congress to resume 
 the command of the northern department, and General Gates 
 withdrew himself from it; after which he repaired to head- 
 quarters, and joined the army under General Washington in 
 Jersey. 
 
 Owing to the prevalent dissatisfaction with the conduct of 
 General Schuyler, in the evacuation of Ticonderoga,* Gates 
 was again directed to take command. He arrived about 
 the 21st of August, and continued the exertions to restore the 
 affairs of the department, which had been so much depressed 
 by the losses consequent on the evacuation of Ticonderoga. 
 It was fortunate for General Gates, that the retreat from Ti- 
 conderoga had been conducted under other auspices than his, 
 and that he took the command when the indefatigable, but 
 unrequited labours of Schuyler, and the courage of Stark and 
 his mountaineers, had already ensured the ultimate defeat of 
 Burgoyne. 
 
 Burgoyne, after crossing the Hudson, advanced along its side 
 and encamped on the height, about two miles from Gates's camp : 
 which was three miles above Stillwater. This movement was 
 the subject of much discussion. Some charged it on the im- 
 petuosity of the general, and alleged that it was premature, 
 before he was sure of aid from the royal forces posted in 
 *Vide Biog. of General Schuyler. 
 
88 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 New York; but he pleaded the peremptory orders of his su- 
 perior?. The rapid advance of Burgoyne, and especially his 
 passage of the North River, added much to the impracticabil- 
 ity of his future retreat, and made the ruin of his army in a 
 great degree unavoidable. The Americans, elated with their 
 successes at Bennington and Fort Schuyler, thought no more 
 of retreating, but came out to meet the advancing British, and 
 engaged them with firmness and resolution. 
 
 The attack began a little before mid-day, September 19 A, 
 between the scouting parties of the two armies. The com- 
 manders of both sides supported and reinforced their respec- 
 tive parties. The conflict, though severe, was only partial for 
 an hour and a half; but after a short pause, it became general, 
 and continued for three hours without any intermission. A 
 constant blaze of fire was kept up, and both armies seemed 
 determined on death or victory. The Americans and British 
 alternately drove, and were driven by each other. The British 
 artillery fell into our possession, at every charge, but we could 
 neither turn the pieces upon the enemy nor bring them off, so 
 sudden were the alternate advantages. It was a gallant con- 
 flict, in which death, by familiarity, lost his terrors; and such 
 was the order of the Americans, that, as General Wilkinson 
 states, the wounded men, after having their wounds dressed, in 
 many instances returned again into the battle. Men, and par- 
 ticularly officers, -dropped every moment, and on every side. 
 Several of the Americans placed themselves on high trees, and. 
 as often as they could distinguish an officer's uniform, took him 
 off by deliberately aiming at his person. Few actions have 
 been characterized by more obstinacy in attack or defence. 
 The British repeatedly tried their bayonets, but without their 
 usual success in the use of that weapon. 
 
 The British lost upwards of 500 men, including their killed, 
 wounded, and prisoners. The Americans, inclusive of the mis- 
 sing, lost 319. Thirty-six out of forty-eight British artillerists 
 were killed or wounded. The 62d British regiment, which 
 was 500 strong, when it left Canada, was reduced t£ 60 men, 
 and 4 or 5 officers. In this engagement General Gates, assisted 
 
HORATIO GATES. 89 
 
 by Generals Lincoln and Arnold, commanded the American ar- 
 my, and General Burgoyne was at the head of his army, and 
 Generals Philips, Reidesel, and Frazer, with their respective 
 commands, were actively engaged. 
 
 This battle was fought by the general concert and zealous 
 co-operation of the corps engaged, and was sustained more by 
 individual courage than military discipline. General Arnold, 
 who afterwards traitorously deserted his country, behaved with 
 the most undaunted courage, leading on the troops and encou- 
 raging them by his personal efforts and daring exposure. The 
 gallant Colonel Morgan obtained immortal honor on this day. 
 Lieutenant Colonel Brooks, with the eighth Massachusetts regi- 
 ment remained in the field till about eleven o'clock, and was the 
 last who retired. Major Hull commanded a detachment of 
 three hundred men, who fought with such signal ardour, that 
 more than half of them were killed. The whole number of 
 Americans engaged in this action, was about two thousand five 
 hundred; the remainder of the army, from its unfavourable situ- 
 ation, took little or no part in the action. 
 
 Each army claimed the victory, and each believed himself 
 to have beaten, with only part of its force, nearly the whole of 
 the enemy. The advantage however was decidedly in favour 
 of the Americans. In every quarter they had been the assail- 
 ants, and after an encounter of several hours they had not lost 
 a single inch of ground. 
 
 General Gates, whose numbers increased daily, remained 
 on his old ground. His right, which extended to the river, 
 had been rendered unassailable, and he used great industry to 
 strengthen his left. 
 
 Both armies retained their position until the 7th of October; 
 Burgoyne, in the hope of being relieved by Sir Henry Clinton; 
 and Gates in the confidence of growing stronger every day, and 
 of rendering the destruction of his enemy more certain. But 
 receiving no further intelligence from Sir Henry, the British 
 General determined to make one more trial of strength with his 
 adversary. The following account of the brilliant affair of the 
 7th of Oct. 1777, is given in Thacher's Military Journal: 
 12 
 
90 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 * I am fortunate enough to obtain from our officers a particu- 
 lar account of the glorious event, of the 7th inst. The advan- 
 ced parties of the two armies came into contact, about three 
 o'clock on Tuesday afternoon, and immediately displayed their 
 hostile attitude. The Americans soon approached the royal 
 army, and each party in defiance awaited the deadly blow. 
 The gallant Colonel Morgan, at the head of his famous rifle 
 corps, and Major Dearborn, leading a detachment of infantry, 
 commenced the action, and rushed courageously on the British 
 grenadiers, commanded by Major Ackland; and the furious at- 
 tack was firmly resisted. In all parts of the field, the conflict 
 became extremely arduous and obstinate $ an unconquerable 
 spirit on each side disdaining to yield the palm of victory. — 
 Death appeared to have lost his terrors; breaches in the ranks 
 were no sooner made than supplied by fresh combatants, await- 
 ing a similar fate. At length the Americans press forward with 
 renewed strength and ardour, and compel the whole British 
 line, commanded by Burgoyne himself, to yield to their deadly 
 fire, and they retreat in disorder. The German troops remain 
 firmly posted at their lines; these were now boldly assaulted by 
 Brigadier-General Learned, and Lieutenant-Colonel Brooks, at 
 the head of their respective commands, with such intrepidity, 
 that the works were carried, and their brave commander, Lieut. 
 Colonel Breyman was slain. The Germans were pursued to 
 their encampment, which, with all the equipage of the brigade 
 fell into our hands. Colonel Cilley, of General Poor's brigade, 
 having acquitted himself honorably, was seen astride on a brass 
 field-piece, exulting in the capture. Major Hull of the Massa- 
 chusetts line was among those who so bravely stormed the ene- 
 my's entrenchment, and acted a conspicuous part. General 
 Arnold, in consequence of a serious misunderstanding with 
 General Gates, was not vested with any command, by which he 
 was exceedingly chagrined and irritated. He entered the field, 
 however, and his conduct was marked with intemperate rashness ; 
 flourishing his sword and animating the troops, he struck an offi- 
 cer on the head without cause, and gave him a considerable 
 wound. He exposed himself to every danger, and with a small 
 
HORATIO GATES 91 
 
 party of riflemen, rushed into the rear of the enemy, where he 
 received a ball which fractured his leg, and his horse was killed 
 under him. Nightfall put a stop to our brilliant career, though 
 the victory was most decisive, and it is with pride and exulta- 
 tion that we recount the triumph of American bravery. Be- 
 sides Lieutenant-Colonel Breyman slain, General Frazer, one 
 of the most valuable officers in the British service, was mor- 
 tally wounded, and survived but a few hours. Frazer was the 
 soul of the British army, and was just changing the disposition 
 of a part of the troops to repel a strong impression which the 
 Americans had made, and were still making, on the British 
 right, when Morgan called together two or three of his best 
 marksmen, and pointing to Frazer said, 'Do you see that gal- 
 lant officer? that is General Frazer, — I respect and honor him; 
 but it is necessary he should die.' This was enongh. Frazer 
 immediately received his mortal wound, and was carried off the 
 field. Sir Francis Clark, aid-de-camp to General Burgoyne, 
 was brought into our camp with a mortal wound, and Major 
 Ackland, who commanded the British grenadiers, was wounded 
 through both legs, and is our prisoner. Several other officers, 
 and about two hundred privates, are prisoners in our hands, 
 with nine pieces of cannon, and a considerable supply of am- 
 munition, which was much wanted for our troops. The loss or 
 our side is supposed not to exceed thirty killed, and one hun- 
 dred wounded, in obtaining this signal victory." 
 
 The position of the British army, after the action of the 7th, 
 was so dangerous that an immediate and total change of posi- 
 tion became necessary, and Burgoyne took immediate measures 
 to regain his former camp at Saratoga. There he arrived, with 
 little molestation from his adversary. His provisions being now 
 reduced to the supply of a few days, the transports of artillery 
 and baggage towards Canada, being rendered impracticable by 
 the judicious measures of his adversary, the British general 
 resolved upon a rapid retreat, merely with what the soldiers 
 could carry. On examination, however, it was found that they 
 were deprived even of this resource, as the passes through 
 which their rout lay, were so strongly guarded, that nothing 
 
92 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 but artillery could clear them. In this desperate situation h 
 parley took place, and on the 16th of October, the whole army 
 surrendered to General Gates. 
 
 The prize obtained consisted of more than five thousand pri- 
 soners, forty -two pieces of brass ordnance, seven thousand mus- 
 kets, clothing for seven thousand men, with a great quantity of 
 tents, and other military stores. 
 
 Soon after the convention was signed, the Americans marched 
 into their lines, and were kept there until the royal army had 
 deposited their arms at the place appointed. The delicacy 
 with which this business was conducted, reflected honor on the 
 American general. Nor did the politeness of Gates end here. 
 Every circumstance was withheld that could constitute a tri- 
 umph in the American army. The captive general was recei- 
 ved by his conqueror with respect and kindness. A number of 
 the principal officers of both armies met at General Gates' 
 quarters, and for a while seemed to forget, in social and convi- 
 vial pleasures, that they had been enemies. 
 
 Gen. Wilkinson gives the following account of the meeting 
 between Gen. Burgoyne and Gen. Gates: — 
 
 "Gen. Gates, advised of Burgoyne's approach, met him at 
 the head of his camp, Burgoyne in a rich royal uniform, and 
 Gates in a plain blue frock. When they had approached nearly 
 within sword's length, they reined up and halted. I then na- 
 med the gentleman, and Gen. Burgoyne, raising his hat, most 
 gracefully said, ' The fortune of war, Gen. Gates, has made 
 me your prisoner; ' to which the conqueror, returning a courtly 
 salute, promptly replied, 'I shall always be ready to bear tes- 
 timony that it has not been through any fault of your Excel- 
 lency.' " 
 
 The thanks of Congress were voted to Gen. Gates and his 
 army ; and a medal of gold, in commemoration of this great 
 event, was ordered to be struck, to be presented to him by the 
 president, in the name of the United States. 
 
 It was not long after that the wonderful discovery was suppo- 
 sed to be made, that the illustrious Washington was incompe- 
 tent to the task of conducting the operations of the American 
 
HORATIO GATES. 93 
 
 army, and that Gen. Gates, if elevated to the chief command, 
 would speedily meliorate the condition of our affairs. There 
 were those that imputed to General Gates himself, a princi A 
 agency in the affair, which, however, he promptly disavowed. 
 But certain it is, that a private correspondence was maintained 
 between him and the intriguing General Conway, in which the 
 measures pursued by General Washington are criticised and 
 reprobated, and in one of Conway's letters, he pointedly as- 
 cribes our want of success to a weak general and bad counsel- 
 lors. Gen. Gates, on finding that General Washington had 
 been apprised of the correspondence, addressed his Excellency, 
 requesting that he would disclose the name of his informant, 
 and in violation of the rules of decorum, he addressed the com- 
 mander-in-chief on a subject of extreme delicacy in an open 
 letter transmitted to the president of congress. Gen. Wash- 
 ington, however, did not hesitate, to disclose the name and the 
 circumstances which brought the affair to light. Gen. Gates, 
 then, with inexcusable disingenuousness, attempted to vindicate 
 the conduct of Conway, and to deny that the letter contained 
 the reprehensible expressions in question, but utterly refused to 
 produce the original letter. This subject, however, was so 
 ably and candidly discussed* by General Washington, as to cover 
 his adversary with shame and humiliation. It was thought 
 inexcusable in Gates, that he neglected to communicate to the 
 commander-in-chief an account of so important an event as the 
 capture of the British army at Saratoga, but left his Excellency 
 to obtain the information by common report. 
 
 Dr. Thacher, in his Military Journal, relates the following 
 
 anecdote: — "Mr. T , an ensign in our regiment, has, for 
 
 some time, discovered symptoms of mental derangement. — 
 Yesterday he intruded himself at Gen. Gates' head-quarters, 
 and after some amusing conversation, he put himself in the 
 attitude of devotion, and prayed that God would pardon Gen. 
 Gates for endeavoring to supersede that god-like man, Wash- 
 ington. The general appeared to be much disturbed, and 
 directed Mr. Pierce, his aid -de-camp, to take him away." 
 
 On the 13th of June, 1780, Gen. Gates was appointed to th< 
 
94 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 chief command of the southern army. Rich in fame from the 
 fields of Saratoga, he hastened to execute the high and impor- 
 tant trust; and the arrival of an officer so exalted in reputation, 
 had an immediate and happy effect on the spirits of the sol- 
 diery and the hopes of the people. It was anticipated that he 
 who had humbled Great Britain on the heights of the Hudson, 
 and liberated New York from a formidable invasion, would 
 prove no less successful in the south, and become the deliverer 
 of Carolina and Georgia from lawless rapine and military rule. 
 But anticipations were vain, and the best founded hopes were 
 blighted ! In the first and only encounter which he had with 
 Lord Conwallis, at Camden, Aug. 15th, he suffered a total de- 
 feat, and was obliged to fly from the enemy for personal safety. 
 
 Proudly calculating on the weight of his name, and too con- 
 fident in his own superiority, he slighted the counsel which he 
 ought to have respected, and hurrying impetuously into the 
 field of battle, his tide of popularity ebbed as fast at Camden 
 as it had flowed at Saratoga.* 
 
 It would be great injustice, however, to attribute the misfor- 
 tune altogether to the commander, under his peculiar circum- 
 stances. A large proportion of his force consisted of raw mili- 
 tia who were panic struck, and fled at the first fire; — their rout 
 was absolute and irretrievable. In vain did Gates attempt to 
 rally them. That their speed might be the greater, they threw 
 away their arms and accoutrements, and dashed into the woods 
 and swamps for safety. A rout more perfectly wild and disor- 
 derly, or marked with greater consternation and dismay, was 
 never witnessed. Honour, manhood, country, home, every re- 
 collection sacred to the feelings of the soldier, and the soul of 
 the brave, was merged in an ignominious love of life. 
 
 But from the moment General Gates assumed the command 
 in the south, his former judgment and fortune seemed to for- 
 sake him. He was anxious to come to action immediately, 
 and to terminate the war by a few bold and energetic mea- 
 
 *When the appointment of Gen. Gates to the chief command of the south- 
 ern Army was announced, Gen. Lee remarked, that "his northern luurel? 
 would soon be exchanged for southern willows.'''' 
 
HORATIO GATES. 05 
 
 sures ; and two days after his arrival in camp, he began his 
 march to meet the enemy, without properly estimating his 
 force. 
 
 The active spirits of the place being roused and encouraged, 
 by the presence of a considerable army, and daily flocking to 
 the standard of their country, General Gates, by a delay of 
 action, had much to gain in point of numbers. To the pros- 
 pects of the enemy, on the contrary, delay would have been 
 ruinous. To them there was no alternative but immediate 
 battle and victory, or immediate retreat. Such, however, was 
 the nature of the country, and the distance and relative posi- 
 tion of the two armies, that to compel the Americans to action 
 was impossible. The imprudence of the American general in 
 hazarding an engagement, at this time, is further manifested 
 by the fact, that in troops, on whose firmness he could safely 
 rely, he was greatly inferior to his foe, they amounting to six- 
 teen hundred veteran and highly disciplined regulars, and he 
 having less than a thousand continentals. 
 
 General Gates having retreated to Salisbury, and thence to 
 Hillsborough, he there succeeded in collecting around him the 
 fragments of an army. Being soon after reinforced by seve- 
 ral small bodies of regulars and militia, he again advanced to- 
 wards the south, and took post in Charlotte. Here he con- 
 tinued in command until the 5th day of October, fifty days 
 after his defeat at Camden, when Congress passed a resolution 
 requiring the commander-in-chief to order a court of inquiry 
 on his conduct, as commander of the southern army, and to 
 appoint some other officer to that command. The inquiry re- 
 sulted in his acquital: and it was the general opinion that he 
 was not treated by congress with that delicacy, or indeed gra- 
 titude, that was due to an officer of his acknowledged merit. 
 He. however, received the order of his supersedure and sus- 
 pension, and resigned the command to General Greene with 
 becoming dignity, as is manifested, much to his credit, in the 
 following order: — 
 
 ■<# 
 
96 HORATIO GATES. 
 
 '•''Head-Quarters, Charlotte, 3d December, 1780. 
 Parole, Springfield — countersign, Greene. 
 
 The honourable Major-General Greene, who arrived yester- 
 day afternoon in Charlotte, being appointed by his excellency 
 General Washington, with the approbation of the honourable 
 congress, to the command of the southern army, all orders will, 
 for the future, issue from him, and all reports are to be made 
 to him. 
 
 General Gates returns his sincere and grateful thanks to the 
 southern army for their perseverance, fortitude, and patient 
 endurance of all the hardships and sufferings they have under- 
 gone while under his command. He anxiously hopes their 
 misfortunes will cease therewith, and that victory, and the glo- 
 rious advantages of it, may be the future portion of the south- 
 ern army." 
 
 General Greene had already been, and continued to be, the 
 firm advocate of the reputation of General Gates, particularly 
 if he heard it assailed with asperity; and- still believed and 
 asserted, that if there was any mistake in the conduct of Gates, 
 it was in hazarding an action at all against such superior force ; 
 and when informed of his appointment to supersede him, de- 
 clared his confidence in his military talents, and his willing 
 ness "to serve under him." 
 
 General Gates was reinstated in his military command in the 
 main army, in 1782; but the great scenes of war were now 
 passed, and he could only participate in the painful scene of 
 a final separation. 
 
 In the midst of his misfortune, General Gates was called to 
 mourn the afflicted dispensation of Providence, in the death of 
 his only son. Major Garden, in his excellent publication, has 
 recorded the following affecting anecdote, which he received 
 from Dr. William Reed: — 
 
 "Having occasion to call on General Gates, relative to the 
 
 business of the department under my immediate charge, I found 
 
 him traversing the apartment which he occupied, under the 
 
 ifluence of high excitement; his agitation was excessive — 
 
 em-ry feature of his countenance, every gesture betrayed it. 
 
 would 
 
HORATIO GATES. 9? 
 
 Official despatches informing him that he was superseded, and 
 that the command of the southern army had been transferred 
 to General Greene, had just been received and perused by him. 
 His countenance, however, betrayed no expression of irritation 
 or resentment; it was sensibility alone that caused his emotion. 
 An open letter, which he held in his hand, was often raised to 
 his lips, and kissed with devotion, while the exclamation re- 
 peatedly escaped them — 'Great man! Noble, generous pro- 
 cedure!' When the tumult of his mind had subsided, and his 
 thoughts found utterance, he, with strong expression of feel- 
 ing, exclaimed: "I have received this day a communication 
 from the commander-in-chief, which has conveyed more conso- 
 lation to my bosom, more ineffable delight to my heart, than I 
 had believed it possible for it ever to have felt again. With 
 affectionate tenderness he sympathises with me in my domes- 
 tic misfortunes, and condoles with me on the loss I have sus- 
 tained by the recent death of an only son; and then with pecu- 
 liar delicacy, lamenting my misfortune in battle, assures me 
 that his confidence in my zeal and capacity is so little impair- 
 ed, that the command of the right wing of the army will be 
 bestowed on me so soon as I can make it convenient to join 
 him.' " 
 
 After the peace, he retired to his farm in Berkley county. 
 Va. where he remained until the year 1790, when he went to 
 reside in New- York, having first emancipated his slaves, and 
 made a pecuniary provision for such as were not able to pro- 
 vide for themselves. Some of them would not leave him, but 
 continued in his family. 
 
 On his arrival at New-York, the freedom of the city was 
 presented to him. In 1 800 he accepted a seat in the legisla- 
 ture, but he retained it no longer than he conceived his servi- 
 ces might be useful to the cause of liberty, which he never 
 abandoned. 
 
 His political opinions did not separate him from many re- 
 spectable citizens, whose views differed widely from his own 
 He had a handsome person, and was gentlemanly in his man- 
 ners, remarkably courteous to all, and gave indisputable marks 
 13 
 
98 NATHANIEL GREENE 
 
 of a social, amiable, and benevolent disposition. A few weeks 
 before his death, he closed a letter to a friend in the following 
 words: — "I am very weak, and have evident signs of an ap- 
 proaching dissolution. But I have lived long enongh, since I 
 have to see a mighty people animated with a spirit to be free, 
 and governed by transcendant abilities and honour." He died 
 without posterity, at his abode near New- York, on the 10th dav 
 of April, 1806, aged 78 years. 
 
 NATHANIEL GREENE, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army 
 
 General Greene, although descended from ancestors of ele 
 vated standing, was not indebted to the condition of his family, 
 for any part of the real lustre and reputation he possessed. He 
 was literally the founder of his own fortune, and the author of 
 his own fame. He was the second son of Nathaniel Greene, a 
 member of the society of Friends, an anchor-smith. 
 
 He was born in the year 1741, in the town of Warwick, and 
 County of Kent, in the province of Rhode-Island. Being in- 
 tended by his father for the business which he himself pursued, 
 young Greene received at school, nothing but the elements of 
 a common English education. But to him, an education so lim- 
 ited, was unsatisfactory. With such funds as he was able to 
 raise, he purchased a small, but well-selected library, and spent 
 his evenings, and all the time he could redeem from his father's 
 business, in regular study. 
 
 At a period of life, unusually early, Greene was elevated, by 
 a. very flattering suffrage, to a seat in the legislature of his na- 
 tive colony. This was the commencement of a public career, 
 which, heightening as it advanced, and flourishing in the midst 
 of difficulties, closed with a lustre that was peculiarly dazzling. 
 
 Thus introduced into the councils of his country, at a time 
 when the rights of the subject, and the powers of the ruler, 
 were beginning to be topics of liberal discussion, he felt it hie 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. ^ 
 
 duty to avow his sentiments on the momentous question. Nor 
 did he pause or waver, as to the principles he should adopt, and 
 the decision he should form. He was inflexibly opposed to 
 tyranny and oppression in every shape, and manfully avowed it. 
 But his character, although forming, was not completely develo- 
 ped uniil the commencement of the troubles which terminated 
 in our independence. It was then that he aspired to a head in 
 the public councils; and throwing from him, as unsuitable to 
 the times, the peaceful habits in which he had been educated, 
 sternly declared for a redress of grievances, or open resistance. 
 This open departure from the sectarian principles in which he 
 had been educated, was followed, of course, by his immediate 
 dismission from the society of Friends. 
 
 The sword was earliest unsheathed in the colony of Massa- 
 chusetts ; and on the plains of Lexington and Concord, the blood 
 of British soldiers, and American subjects, mingled first in hos- 
 tile strife. Nor was Rhode-Island, after that sanguinary affair, 
 behind her sister colonies, in gallantry of spirit, and prompti- 
 tude of preparation. 
 
 Greene commenced his military pupilage in the capacity of 
 a private soldier, in Oct. 1774, in a military association, com- 
 manded by James M. Varnum, afterward brigadier-general. 
 But Rhode-Island having in the month of May, 1775, raised 
 three regiments of militia, she placed them under the command 
 of Greene, who without loss of time conducted them to head- 
 quarters, in the village of Cambridge. 
 
 On the 2d of July, 1775, General Washington, invested by 
 congress with the command in chief of the armies of his coun- 
 try, arrived at Boston. Greene availed himself of an early 
 opportunity amid the public demonstration of joy, to welcome 
 the commander-in-chief, in a personal address, in which, with 
 much warmth of feeling, and kindness of expression, he avowed 
 his attachment to his person, and the high gratification he deri- 
 ved from the prospect of being associated with him in arms, 
 and serving under him in defence of the violated rights of his 
 country. 
 
 This was a happy prelude to a friendship between these two 
 
*Q0 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 great and illustrious officers, which death, alone, had the power 
 to dissolve. It is a fact of notoriety, that when time and ac- 
 quaintance had made him thoroughly acquainted with the cha- 
 racter and merits of General Greene, Washington entertained, 
 and frequently expressed an anxious wish, that, in case of his 
 death he might be appointed his successor to the supreme com- 
 mand. 
 
 During the investment of Boston^ by the American forces, a 
 state of things, which lasted for months, no opportunity pre- 
 sented itself to Greene, to acquire distinction by personal ex- 
 ploit. But his love of action, and spirit of adventure, were 
 strongly manifested ; for he was one of the few officers of rank, 
 who concurred with General Washington, in the propriety of 
 attempting to carry the town by assault. 
 
 On the evacuation of Boston by the British, the American 
 troops were permitted to repose from their toils, and to ex- 
 change for a time, the hardships and privations of a field en- 
 campment, for the enjoyment of plenty y in comfortable barracks. 
 During this period of relaxation, Greene continued with una- 
 bating industry, his military studies, and as far as opportunity 
 served, his attention to the practical duties of the field. This 
 course, steadily pursued, under the immediate supervision of 
 Washington, could scarcely fail to procure rank, and lead to 
 eminence. Accordingly, on the 26th of August, 1776, he was 
 promoted by congress to the rank of major-general in the regu- 
 lar army. 
 
 A crisis, most glowing, and portentous to the cause of free- 
 dom, had now arrived. In the retreat which now commenced, 
 through New-Jersey, General Washington was accompanied 
 by General Greene, and received from him all the aid, that un- 
 der circumstances so dark and unpromising, talents, devotion, 
 and firmness could afford. Possessed alike of an ardent tem- 
 perament, hearts that neither danger nor misfortune could ap- 
 pal, and an inspiring trust in the righteousness of their cause, 
 it belonged to the character of these two great and illustrious 
 commanders, never for a moment to despair of their country. 
 Hope and confidence, even now, beamed from their countenan- 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 101 
 
 ces, and they encouraged their followers, and supported them 
 under the pressure of defeat and misfortune. 
 
 Greene was one of the council of Washington, who resolved 
 on the enterprise of the 26th of December, 1776, against the 
 post of the enemy at Trenton. The issue is known, and is glo- 
 rious in our history. About one thousand Hessians, in killed, 
 wounded, and prisoners, with their arms, field equipage, and ar- 
 tillery, were the trophies of that glorious mornir g, which opened 
 on the friends of American freedom, with the day-star of hope. 
 He was again of the council of the commander-in-chief, in plan- 
 ning the daring attack of the 2d January, 1777, on the Brit- 
 ish garrison at Princeton, as well as his associate in achieving 
 its execution. In both these brilliant actions, his gallantry, 
 prudence, and skill being alike conspicuous, he received the 
 applauses of his commander. He continued the associate and 
 most confidential counsellor of Washington through the gloomy 
 and ominous period that followed. 
 
 In the obstinate and bloody battle of Brandywine, General 
 Greene, by his distinguished conduct, added greatly to his for- 
 mer renown. In the course of it, a detachment of American 
 troops commanded by General Sullivan, being unexpectedly 
 attacked by the enemy, retreated in disorder. General Greene, 
 at the head of Weedon's Virginia brigade flew to their sup- 
 port. On approaching, he found the defeat of General Sulli- 
 van a perfect rout. Not a moment was to be lost. Throwing 
 himself into the rear of his flying countrymen, and retreating 
 slowly, he kept up, especially from his cannon, so destructive a 
 fire as greatly to retard the advance of the enemy. Aiming 
 at length at a narrow defile, secured on the right and left by 
 thick woods, he halted, sent forward his cannon, that they might 
 be out of danger, in case of his being compelled to a hasty re- 
 treat, and formed his troops, determined to dispute the pass 
 with His small arms. This he effected with complete success, 
 notwithstanding the vast superiority of the assailants; until af- 
 ter a conflict of more than an hour and a half, night came on, 
 and brought it to a close. But for this quick sighted interpo- 
 sition. Sullivan's detachment must have been nearly annihilated*. 
 
102 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 On this occasion, only, did the slightest misunderstanding 
 ever occur, between General Greene and the commander-in- 
 chief. In his general orders after the battle, the latter neg- 
 lected to bestow any special applause on Weedon's brigade. 
 Against this General Greene remonstrated in person. 
 
 General Washington replied, " You, Sir, are considered my 
 favorite officer. Weedon's brigade, like myself, are Virgini- 
 ans. Should I applaud them for their achievement, under 
 your command, I shall be charged with partiality: jealousy will 
 be excited, and the service injured." 
 
 "Sir," exclaimed Greene, with considerable emotion, "I 
 trust your Excellency will do me the justice to believe that I 
 am not selfish. In my own behalf I have nothing to ask. Act 
 towards me as you please; I shall not complain. However 
 ricaly I prize your Excellency's good opinion and applause, a 
 consciousness that I have endeavored to do my duty, constitutes 
 at present, my richest reward. But do not, Sir, let me entreat 
 you, on account of the jealousy that may arise in little minds 
 withhold justice from the brave fellows I had the honor to com- 
 mand." 
 
 Convinced that prudence forbade the special notice request- 
 ed, the commander-in-chief persisted in his silence. Greene, 
 on cool reflection, appreciated the motives of his general, and 
 lost no time in apologising for his intemperate manner, if not 
 for his expressions. Delighted with his frankness and magna- 
 nimity, Washington replied with a smile, — "An officer, tried 
 as you have been, who errs but once in two years, deserves 
 to be forgiven," — With that he offered him his hand and the 
 matter terminated. 
 
 Following General Greene in his military career, he next 
 presents himself on the plains of Germantown. In this daring 
 assault he commanded the left wing of the American army, 
 and his utmost endeavors were used to retrieve the fortune of 
 the day, in which his conduct met the approbation of the com- 
 mander-in-chief. Lord Cornwallis to whom he was often op- 
 posed, had the magnanimity to bestow upon him a lofty enco- 
 mium. " Greene," said he, " is as dangerous as Washington. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 103 
 
 He is vigilant, enterprising, and full of resources. With but 
 little hope of gaining any advantage over him, I never feel se- 
 cure when encamped in his neighbourhood." 
 
 At this period the quarter-master department in the Ameri- 
 can army, was in a very defective and alarming condition, and 
 required a speedy and radical reform: and General Washington 
 declared that such reform could be effected only by the ap- 
 pointment of a quarter-master-general, of great resources, well 
 versed in business, and possessing practical talents of tfce first 
 order. When requested by Congress to look out for such an 
 officer, he, at once, fixed his eye on Gen. Greene. 
 
 Washington well knew that the soul of Greene wasindissolu- 
 bly wedded to the duties of line. Notwithstanding this, he ex- 
 pressed in conversation with a member of Congress, his entire 
 persuasion, that if Gen. Greene could be convinced of his abil- 
 ity to render his country greater services in the quarter-master 
 department, than in the field, he would at once accept the ap- 
 pointment. u There is not," said he, "an officer of the army, 
 nor a man in America, more sincerely attached to the interests 
 of his country. Could he best promote their interests, in the 
 character of a corporal, he would exchange as I firmly believe, 
 without a murmur, the epaulet for the knot. For although he 
 is not without ambition; that ambition has not for its object the 
 highest rank, so much as the greatest good.''' 
 
 When the appointment was first offered Gen. Greene, he de- 
 clined it, but after a conference with the commander-in-chief, he 
 consented to an acceptance, on condition that he should forfeit 
 nothing of his right to command, in time of action. On these 
 terms he received the appointment on the 22d of March, 1778, 
 and entered immediately on the duties of the office. 
 
 In this station he fully answered the expectations formed of 
 his abilities ; and enabled the American army to move with ad- 
 ditional celerity and vigor. 
 
 During his administration of the quarter-master department, 
 he took, on two occasions, a high and distinguished part in the 
 field; the first in the battle of Monmouth; the second in a very 
 brilliant expedition against the enemy in Rhode Island, under 
 
104 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 the command of Gen. Sullivan. At the battle of Monmouth, 
 the commander-in-chief, disgusted with the behaviour of Gen 
 eral Lee, deposed him in the field of battle, and appointed Gen. 
 Greene to command the right wing, where he greatly contrib- 
 uted to retrieve the errors of his predecessor, and to the subse- 
 quent events of the day. 
 
 His return to his native state was hailed by the inhabitants, 
 with general and lively demonstrations of joy. Even the lead- 
 ing members of the Society of Friends, who had reluctantly 
 excluded him from their communion, often visited him at hi? 
 quarters and expressed their sincere satisfaction at the elevation 
 he had attained in the confidence of his country. One of these 
 plain gentlemen being asked in jest, by a young officer, how he, 
 as an advocate of peace, could reconcile it with his conscience, 
 to keep so much company with General Greene, whose profes- 
 sion was war? — promptly replied, "Friend, it is not a suit of 
 uniform that can either make or spoil a man. True, I do not 
 approve of this many colored apparel, (to the officer's dress,) but 
 whatever may be the form or color of his coat, Nathaniel Greene 
 still retains the same sound head and virtuous heart, that gain- 
 ed him the love and esteem of our Society." 
 
 During the year 1779, General Greene was occupied exclu- 
 sively in the extensive concerns of the quarter-master depart 
 ment. 
 
 About this time Gen. Greene was called to the performance 
 of a duty, the most trying and painful he had ever encountered. 
 We allude to the melancholy affair of Major Andre, adjutant- 
 general to the British army, who was captured in disguise within 
 the American lines. Washington detailed a court for this trial, 
 composed of fourteen general officers, La Fayette and Steuben 
 being two of the number, and appointed General Greene to 
 preside. 
 
 When summoned to this trial, Andre frankly disclosed with- 
 out interrogatory, what bore heaviest on his own life, but invi- 
 olably concealed whatever might endanger the safety of others. 
 His confessions were conclusive, and no witness was examined 
 against him. The court were unanimous, that he had been ta- 
 
» 
 
 NATHANIEL GREENE. 105 
 
 ken as a spy, and must suffer death. Of this sentence he did 
 not complain, but wished that he might be permitted to close a 
 life of honor by a professional death, and not be compelled, like 
 a common felon, to expire on a gibbet. To effect this, he made 
 in a letter to General Washington, one of the most powerful 
 and pathetic appeals, that ever fell from the pen of a mortal. 
 
 Staggered in his resolution, the commander-in-chief referred 
 the subject, accompanied by the letter, to his general officers, 
 who, with one exception, became unanimous in their desire that 
 Andre should be shot. 
 
 That exception was found in General Greene, the president 
 of the court. "Andre," said he, "is either a spy or an inno- 
 cent man. If the latter, to execute him, in any way will be 
 murder; if the former,* the mode of his death is prescribed by 
 law, and you have no right to alter it. Nor is this all. At the 
 present alarming crisis of our affairs, the public safety calls for 
 a solemn and impressive example. Nothing can satisfy it, short 
 of the execution of the prisoner, as a common spy ; a character 
 of which his own confession has clearly convicted him. Be- 
 ware how you suffer your feelings to triumph over your judg- 
 ment. Indulgence to one may be death to thousands. Besides, 
 if you shoot the prisoner, instead of hanging him, you will ex- 
 cite suspicion, which you will be unable to allay. Notwith- 
 standing all your efforts to the contrary, you will awaken public 
 compassion, and the belief will become general, that, in the 
 case of Major Andre, there were exculpatory circumstances, 
 entitling him to lenity, beyond what he received — perhaps, en- 
 titling him to pardon. Hang him, therefore, or set him free. ,f 
 
 This reasoning being considered conclusive, the prisoner suf- 
 fered as a common spy. 
 
 We have now advanced to that period of the revolutionary 
 war, in which the situation of Greene, is about to experience 
 an entire change. No longer acting in the vicinity, or subject 
 to the immediate- orders of a superior, we are to behold him, in 
 future, removed to a distance, and virtually invested with the 
 supreme command of a large section of the United States. 
 
 Congress, dissatisfied with the loss of the southern army, ro- 
 14 
 
100 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 solved that the conduct of Gen. Gates be submitted to the exa- 
 mination of a court of inquiry, and the commander-in-chief di- 
 rected to appoint an officer to succeed him. In compliance with 
 the latter part of the resolution, Gen. Washington, without he- 
 sitation, offered the appointment to Gen. Greene. In a letter 
 to Congress, recommending the general to the support of that 
 body, he made the most honorable mention of him as "an 
 officer in whose abilities, fortitude, and integrity, from a long 
 and intimate experience of them, he had the most entire confi- 
 dence.' 1 Writing to Mr. Mathews, a member from Charleston, 
 he says, " You have your wish, in the officer appointed to the 
 southern command. I think I am giving you a general; but 
 what can a general do without arms, without clothing, with- 
 out stores, without provisions." 
 
 General Greene arrived at Charlotte, the head-quarters of 
 General Gates, Dec. 2d, 1780, and in entering on the duties of 
 his command, he found himself in a situation that was fearfully 
 embarrassing. His army, consisting mostly of militia, amounted 
 to less than two thousand men, and he found on hand but three 
 days' provision, and a very defective supply of ammunition. 
 In front was an enemy, proud in victory, and too strong to be 
 encountered. With such means, and under such circumstan- 
 ees, to recover two states, already conquered, and protect a 
 third, constituted a task that was almost hopeless. 
 
 It was not merely to meet an enemy in the field, to command 
 skilfully, and fight bravely, either in proffered or accepted bat- 
 tle. These operations depend on mere professional qualifica- 
 tions, tnat can be readily acquired by moderate capacities. 
 But to raise and provide for an army in a dispirited and devas 
 tated country, creating resources where they do not exist, to 
 operate with an incompetent force on an extended and broken 
 line of frontier; to hold in check, in many points, and to 
 avoid coming into contact in any, with an enemy superior in 
 numbers and discipline; — to conduct a scheme of warfare like 
 this, and such, precisely, was that which tested the abilities of 
 General Greene, requires a genius of the highest order, combi- 
 ned with indefatigable industry and skill. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 107 
 
 Preparatory to the commencement of the campaign, Greene's 
 rirst car* was to prepare for his troops subsistence and ammu- 
 nition, and in effecting this, he derived great aid from his per. 
 sonal experience in the business of the commissary and quarter* 
 master's departments. This qualification for such a diversity 
 of duties, presented him to his troops in the two-fold relation 
 of their supporter and commander. Much of the moral strength 
 of an army consists in a confidence in its leader, an attachment 
 to his person, and a spirit of subordination, founded on princi- 
 ple. To such an extent was this true, that even the common 
 soldiery, sensible of the superintendence of a superior intel- 
 lect, predicted confidently a change of fortune. Their defeat 
 at Camden was soon forgotten by them, in their anticipations of 
 future victory. They fancied themselves ready once more to 
 take the field, and felt a solicitude to regain their lost reputa- 
 tion, and signalize their prowess in presence of their new and 
 beloved commanders 
 
 But, notwithstanding the spirit and confidence of his troops, 
 Greene found himself unable to meet the enemy in the field. 
 With Washington in his eye, and his own genius to devise his 
 measures, he resolved on cautious movements and protracted 
 war. Yet, to sustain the spirit of the country, it was necessary 
 that he should not altogether shun his enemy; but watching 
 and confronting his scouts and foraging parties, fight, cripple, 
 and beat him in detail, and in all his movements, it was neces- 
 sary for him to maintain a communication with Virginia, from 
 which he was to receive supplies of provisions, munitions, and 
 men. 
 
 General Greene's first movement, from the village of Char- 
 lotte, was productive of the happiest effect. In the month of 
 December he marched, with his main army, to the Cheraw 
 Hills, about seventy miles to the right of Lord Cornwallis, de- 
 spatching, at the same time, General Morgan, with four hundred 
 continentals under ColoneJ Howard, Colonel Washington's 
 corps of dragoons, and a few militia, amounting in all to six 
 hundred, to take a position on the Britishleft, distant from then 
 about fifty miles. 
 
10b NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 This judiciou6 disposition, which formed a rallying point for 
 the friends of independence, both in the east and west, and fa- 
 cilitated the procurement of provisions for the troops, excited 
 his Lordship's apprehensions, for the safety of Ninety-Six and 
 Augusta, British posts, which he considered as menaced by 
 the movements of Morgan, and gave rise to a train of move- 
 ments which terminated in the celebrated battle of the Cow- 
 pens. 
 
 Cornwallis, immediately on learning the movements of 
 Greene, despatched Colonel Tarlton with a strong detachment, 
 amounting, in horse and foot, to near a thousand, for the pro- 
 tection of Ninety-Six, with orders to bring General Morgan, 
 if possible, to battle. Greatly superior in numbers, he advan- 
 ced on Morgan with a menacing aspect, and compelled him, at 
 first, to fall back rapidly. But this was not long continued. 
 Glorying in action, and relying with great confidence in the 
 spirit and firmness of his regular troops, Morgan halted at the 
 Cowpens, and prepared to give his adversary battle. The 
 opportunity was eagerly seized by Tarlton. An engagement 
 was the immediate consequence, and a complete victory was 
 obtained by the Americans.* Upwards of five hundred of the 
 British laid down their arms and were made prisoners, and a 
 very considerable number were killed. Eight hundred stand 
 of arms, two field pieces, and thirty-five baggage wagons fell 
 to the victors, who had only twelve killed and sixty wounded. 
 
 The victory of the Cowpens, although achieved under the 
 immediate command of Morgan, was the first stroke of Gen- 
 eral Greene's policy in the south, and augured favourably of 
 his future career. It led to one of the most arduous, ably 
 conducted, and memorable operations, that occurred in the 
 course of the revolutionary war — the retreat of Greene, and 
 the pursuit of Cornwallis, during the inclemencies of winter a 
 distance of 230 miles. 
 
 Galled in his pride, and crippled in his schemes, by the 
 overthrow of Tarlton, Lord Cornwallis resolved, by a se- 
 
 'Vide Biog. of General Morgan. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. HK) 
 
 lies of prompt and vigorous measures, to avenge the injury and 
 retrieve the loss which the royal arms had sustained at the Cow- 
 pens. His meditated operations for this purpose, were to ad- 
 vance rapidly on Morgan retake his prisoners, and destroy his 
 force; to maintain an intermediate position, and prevent his 
 union with Gen. Greene: or, in case of the junction of the 
 two armies, to cut off their retreat toward Virginia, and force 
 them to action. 
 
 But General Greene, no less vigilant and provident than 
 himself, informed, by express, of the defeat of Tarlton, in- 
 stantly perceived the object of his Lordship, and ordering his 
 troops to proceed under General Huger, to Salisbury, where he 
 meditated a junction with Morgan's detachment, he himself, es- 
 corted by a few dragoons set out for the head quarters of that 
 officer, and joined him shortly after. 
 
 Cornwallis having committed to the flames his heavy baggage, 
 and reduced his army to the condition of light troops, dashed 
 towards Morgan. And here commenced the retreat of General 
 Greene, in the course of which he displayed such resources, 
 and gained, in the end, such lasting renown. Sensible of the 
 immense prize for which he was contending, he tasked his ge- 
 nius to the uttermost. On the issue of the struggle was stak- 
 ed, not merely the lives of a few brave men ; not alone the ex- 
 istence of the whole army, but the fate of the south and the 
 integrity of the Union. But his genius was equal to the crisis. 
 By the most masterly movements, Greene effected a junction 
 of the two divisions of his little army. 
 
 To his great mortification, Lord Cornwallis now perceived 
 that in two of his objects, the destruction of Morgan's detach- 
 ment, and the prevention of its union with the main division, 
 he was completely frustrated by the activity of Greene. But 
 to cut off the retreat of the Americans into Virginia, after 
 their union, and to compel them to action, was still perhaps, 
 practicable, and to the achievement of this he now directed 
 his undivided energies. 
 
 The genius of Greene, however did not desert him on this 
 trying occasion. Self-collected, and adapting his conduct to 
 
.110 NATHANIEL GREEN t. 
 
 the nature of the crisis, his firmness grew with the increase ot 
 danger; and the measure of his greatness, was the extent of the 
 difliculties he was called to encounter. Notwithstanding the vi- 
 gilance and activity of his enemy, he brought his men in safety 
 into Virginia, and to crown the whole, no loss was sustained 
 by him, either in men, munitions, artillery, or any thing that 
 enters into the equipment of an army. 
 
 Frustrated thus in all his purposes, Lord Cornwallis, al- 
 though the pursuing party, must be acknowledged to have been 
 fairly vanquished. Victory is the successful issue of a struggle 
 for superiority. Military leaders contend for different objects : 
 to vanquish their enemies, in open conflict; to attack and over- 
 throw them by stratagem and surprise; to exhaust their resour- 
 ces by delay of action; or to elude them, in retreat, until 
 stengthened by reinforcements, they may be able to turn and 
 meet them in the field. Of this last description, was the vic- 
 tory of Greene, in this memorable retreat. 
 
 In Virginia, General Greene received some reinforcements, 
 and had the promise of more; on which he returned again into 
 North Carolina, where, on their arrival he hoped to be able to 
 act on the offensive. He encamped in the vicinity of Lord 
 Cornwallis' army. By a variety of the best concerted ma- 
 noeuvres, he so judiciously supported the arrangement of his 
 troops, by the secrecy and promptitude of his motions, that. 
 during three weeks, while the enemy remained near him, he 
 prevented them from taking any advantage of their superiority ; 
 and even cut off all opportunity of their receiving succours 
 from the royalists. 
 
 About the beginning of March be effected a junction with 
 a continental regiment, and two considerable bodies of Virgin- 
 ia and Carolina militia. He then determined on attacking the 
 British commander, without loss of time, " being persuaded," 
 as he declared in his subsequent despatches, " that if he was 
 successful, it would prove ruinous to the enemy, and, if other- 
 wise^ that it would be but a partial evil to him." On the 14th, 
 he arrived at Guilford Court-House, the British then lying at 
 twelve miles distance. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. Ill 
 
 His army consisted of about four thousand five hundred men, 
 >of whom near two-thirds were North Carolina and Virginia 
 militia. The British were about two thousand four hundred; 
 all regular troops, and the greater part inured to toil and ser- 
 vice in their long expedition under Lord Cornwallis, who, on 
 {he morning of the 15th, being apprized of General Green's 
 intentions, marched to meet him. The latter disposed his army 
 in three lines: the militia of North Carolina were in front; the 
 second line was composed of those of Virginia; and the third, 
 which was the flower of the army, was formed of continental 
 troops, near fifteen hundred in number. They were flanked 
 on both sides by cavalry and riflemen, and posted on a rising 
 ground, a mile and a half from Guilford Court-House. 
 
 The engagement commenced at half an hour after one 
 o'clock by a brisk cannonade; after which the British advanced' 
 in three columns, and attacked the first line, composed of Nortb 
 Carolina militia. These, who probably had never been in ac- 
 tion before, were panic-struck at the approach of the enemy: 
 and many of them ran away without firing a gun, or being fired 
 upon, and even before the British had come nearer than one 
 hundred and forty yards to them. Part of them, however, 
 fired; but they then followed the example of their comrades. 
 Their officers made every possible effort to rally them; but nei- 
 ther the advantages of position, nor any other consideration, 
 could induce them to maintain their ground. This shameful 
 conduct had a great effect upon the issue of the battle. The 
 next line, however, behaved much better. They fought with 
 great bravery; and were thrown into disorder; rallied, returned 
 to the charge, and kept up a heavy fire for a long time ; but 
 were at length broken, and driven on the third line, when the 
 engagement became general, very severe, and very bloody. At 
 length, superiority of discipline carried the day from superiority 
 of numbers. The conflict endured an hour and a half: and 
 was terminated by General Greene's ordering a retreat, when 
 he perceived that the enemy were on the point of encircling his 
 troops."* 
 
 Am- Biographical Dictionary. 
 
112 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 This was a hard-fought action, and the exertions of the two 
 rival generals, both in preparing for this action, and during the 
 course of it, were never surpassed. Forgetful of every thing, 
 but the fortune of the day, they, on several occasions, mingled 
 in the danger, like common soldiers. 
 
 The loss sustained by the Americans, in this battle, amounted, 
 in killed and wounded, to only about 400; while in its effect ©n 
 the enemy it was murderous ; nearly one third of them, inclu- 
 ding many officers of distinction, were killed and wounded. 
 
 The result of this conflict, although technically a defeat, wat 
 virtually a victory on the part of Gen. Greene. In its^lation 
 to his adversary, it placed him on higher ground than he had 
 previously occupied; enabling him, immediately afterward, in- 
 stead of retreating, to become the pursuing party. This is ev- 
 idenced by his conduct soon after the action. 
 
 Not doubting that Lord Cornwallis would follow him, he re- 
 treated slowly, and in good order, from the field of battle, until 
 attaining, at the distance of a few miles, an advantageous po- 
 sition, he again drew up his forces, determined to renew the 
 contest on the arrival of his enemy. But his Lordship was in 
 no condition to pursue. Having, by past experience, not to be 
 forgotten, learnt that his adversary was a Ulysses in wisdom, he 
 now perceived that he was an Ajax in strength. Alike expert 
 in every mode of warfare, and not to be vanquished, either by 
 stratagem or force, he found him too formidable to be again 
 approached. 
 
 Influenced by these sentiments, Lord Cornwallis, instead of 
 pursuing his foe, or even maintaining his ground, commenced 
 his retreat, leaving behind him about seventy of his wounded, 
 whom he recommended, in a letter written by himself, to the 
 humanity and attention of the American chief. 
 
 Had General Greene been in a situation to pursue his Lord- 
 ship, as soon as he commenced his retreat, the destruction of 
 that officer and his army would have been inevitable. Some 
 spot on the plains of Carolina would have witnessed the sur- 
 render that was reserved for Virginia; and the hero of the 
 south would have won the laurels which, shortly afterwards, 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE 113 
 
 decorated the brow of the hero of the nation. But Greene's 
 military stores were so far expended that he could not pursue, 
 until he received a supply 5 and the delay, thus occasioned, gave 
 time to the British commander to effect his escape. 
 
 Having received his supplies, Greene immediately pursued 
 the enemy; but the advanced position of Lord Cornwallis, and 
 the impracticable condition of the roads, frustrated every exer- 
 tion that General Greene could make to compel the enemy to 
 a second engagement, — convinced of this, he halted to indulge 
 his troops in that refreshment and repose which they so much 
 needed. 
 
 Were we to indicate the period in the life of General Greene 
 most strongly marked by the operations, and irradiated by the 
 genius of a great commander, we would, without hesitation, 
 select that which extends from the commencement of his retreat 
 before Cornwallis, to the termination of his pursuit of him at 
 this time. Perhaps a brighter era does not adorn the military 
 career of any leader. It was in the course of it that he turned 
 the current of adverse fortune consequent on the defeat of 
 Gates, which he afterward directed with such certain aim and 
 irresistible force, as to keep the enemy from his numerous strong 
 holds in the southern department, and contributed so pre-emi- 
 nently to the speedy and felicitous issue of the war. 
 
 Having abandoned the pursuit of the British army, the gene- 
 ral again found himself encircled with difficulties. Of the 
 southern department of the Union, over which Greene's com- 
 mand extended, the enemy was in force in three large and im- 
 portant sections. Georgia and South Carolina were entirely 
 hi their possession; Lord Cornwallis had taken post in the mari- 
 time district of North Carolina, and part of Virginia was occur 
 pied by a powerful detachment of British troops, under the 
 command of Gen. Phillips. At a loss to determine in which of 
 these points he should act in person, he consulted his officers, 
 and found them greatly divided in opinion. He, however, re- 
 solved, in accordance to the views of Col. Lee, that, leaving 
 his lordship, whose object evidently was the invasion of Virgin- 
 ia, to be met by the energies of that state, with such assistance 
 15 
 
114 NATHANIEL GREENf 
 
 as might arrive from the north, he should penetrate South Caror 
 lina, his army divided into two columns, attack and beat the 
 enemy at their different posts, without permitting them to con- 
 centrate their forces, and thus recover that rich and important 
 member of the union. 
 
 An officer who had distinguished himself in the late action, 
 riot satisfied with the proposed plan of operations, asked General 
 Greene by way of remonstrance, — "What will you do, Sir, in 
 case Lord Cornwallis throws himself in your rear, and cuts off 
 your communication with Virginia? " — " I will punish his teme- 
 rity," replied the general with great pleasantness, "by ordering 
 you to charge him as you did at the battle of Guilford. But 
 never fear, Sir; his lordship has too much good sense ever again- 
 to risk his safety so far from the sea-board. He has just esca- 
 ped ruin, and he knows it, and I am greatly mistaken in his 
 character as an officer, if he has not the capacity to profit by 
 experience." 
 
 On the seventh of April, Gen. Greene broke up his encamp- 
 ment, and with the main column of his army, moving to the 
 south, took position on Hobkirk's Hill, in front of Camden, the 
 head-quarters of Lord Rawdon, now the commander-in-chief of 
 the British forces in the south. 
 
 The strength of the British position, which was covered on 
 the south and east side by a river and creek ; and to the west- 
 ward and northward, by six redoubts ; rendered it impracticable 
 to carry it by storm, with the small army Greene had, consisting 
 of about seven hundred continentals, the militia having gone 
 home. He, therefore, encamped at about a mile from the town, 
 in order to prevent supplies from being brought in, and to take 
 advantage of such favorable circumstances as might occur. 
 
 Lord Rawdon's situation was extremely delicate*. Colonel 
 Watson, whom he had some time before detached, for the pro- 
 tection of the eastern frontiers, and to whom he had, on the in- 
 telligence of General Greene's intentions, sent orders to return 
 to Camden, was so effectually watched by General Marion, that 
 it was impossible for him to obey. His lordship's supplies were, 
 moreover, very precarious; and should General Greene's rein- 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 115 
 
 iorcements arrive, he might be so closely invested, as to be at 
 length obliged to surrender. In this dilemma, the best expedi- 
 ent that suggested itself, was a bold attack; for which purpose, 
 he armed every person with him capable of carrying a musket, 
 not excepting his musicians and drummers. He sallied out on 
 the 25th of April, and attacked General Greene in his camp. 
 The defence was obstinate; and for some part of the engage- 
 ment the advantage appeared to be in favor of America. Lieu- 
 tenant Colonel Washington, who commanded the, cavalry, had 
 at one time not less than two hundred British prisoners. How- 
 ever, by the misconduct of one of the American regiments, 
 victory was snatched from General Greene, who was compelled 
 to retreat. He lost in the action about two hundred killed, 
 wounded, and prisoners. Rawdon lost about two hundred and 
 Sfty-eight. 
 
 There was a great similarity between the consequences of 
 the affair at Guilford, and those of this action. In the former, 
 Lord Cornwallis was successful ; but was afterward obliged to 
 retreat two hundred miles from the scene of action, and for a 
 time abandoned the grand object of penetrating to the north- 
 ward. In the latter, Lord Rawdon had the honor of the field : 
 but was shortly after reduced to the necessity of abandoning 
 his post, and leaving behind him a number of sick and wounded. 
 
 The evacuation of Camden, with the vigilance of General 
 Greene, and the several officers he employed, gave a new com- 
 plexion to affairs in South Carolina, where' the British as- 
 cendency declined more rapidly than it had been established. 
 The numerous forts, garrisoned by the enemy, fell one after the 
 other, into the hands of the Americans. Orangeburgh, Motte, 
 Watson, Georgetown, Granby, and others, Fort Ninety-Six ex- 
 cepted, were surrendered; and a very considerable number of 
 prisoners of war, with military stores and artillery, were found 
 in them. 
 
 On the 22d May, General Greene sat down before Ninety- 
 Six, with the main part of his little army. The siege was 
 carried on for a considerable time with great spirit; and the 
 glace was defended with equal bravery. At length the works 
 
lit* NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 were so far reduced, that a surrender must have been made in a 
 few days, when a reinforcement of three regiments, from Eu* 
 ropej arrived at Charleston, which enabled Lord Rawdon to 
 proceed to relieve this important post. The superiority of the 
 enemy's force reduced' General Greene to the alternative of 
 abandoning the siege altogether, or previous to their arrival, of 
 attempting the fort by storm. The latter was more agreeable 
 to his enterprising spirit; and an attack was made, on the mor- 
 ning of the 19th of June. He was repulsed with the loss of 
 one hundred and fifty men. He raised the siege, and retreated 
 over the Saluda. 
 
 Dr. Ramsay, speaking of the state of affairs about this period 
 says, " truly distressing was the situation of the American army; 
 when in the grasp of victory, to be obliged to expose themselves 
 to a hazardous assault, and afterward to abandon a siege. 
 When they were nearly masters of the whole country, to be 
 compelled to retreat to its extremity; and after subduing the 
 greatest part of the force sent against them, to be under the 
 necessity of encountering still greater reinforcements, when their 
 remote situation precluded them from the hope of receiving a 
 single recruit. In this gloomy situation, there were not want- 
 ing persons who advised General Greene to leave the state, and 
 retire with his remaining forces to Virginia. To argument? 
 and suggestions of this kind he nobly replied, " I will recover 
 the country, or die in the attempt." This distinguished officer, 
 whose genius was most vigorous in those extremities, when fee- 
 ble minds abandon themselves to despair, adopted the only 
 resource now left him, of avoiding an engagement, until the 
 British force should be divided.' 1 * 
 
 Greene, having, without loss, made good his passage over the 
 rivers in front, Lord Rawdon, perceiving the futility of any 
 further attempt to overtake him, abandoned the pursuit, and 
 retreating to Ninety-Six, prepared for its evacuation. Thus 
 did the policy of Greene, which is moral strength, compel the 
 surrender of that fortress, although from a want of physical 
 strength, he failed to carry it by the sword. 
 
 * Am. Biog. Dictionary. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 117 
 
 No sooner had Lord Rawdon commenced his retrogade move- 
 ment towards Ninety-Six than General Greene changed his 
 front, and moved in the same direction. On the breaking up of 
 the garrison of Ninety-Six, and the return of Lord Rawdon to- 
 wards Charleston, which immediately ensued, the British army 
 moved in two columns, at a considerable distance from each 
 other. It was then that General Greene became, in reality, the 
 pursuing party, exceedingly anxious to bring the enemy to bat- 
 tle. But this he was unable to accomplish until September. 
 
 September the 9th, General Greene having assembled about 
 two thousand men, proceeded to attack the British, who under 
 the command of Colonel . Stewart, were posted at the Eutaw 
 Springs. The American force was drawn up in two lines: the 
 first, composed of Carolina militia, was commanded by Gene- 
 rals Marion and Pickens, and Colonel de Malmedy. The 
 second, which consisted of continental troops, from North 
 Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland, was commanded by Ge- 
 neral Sumpter, Lieutenant Colonel Campbell, and Colonel 
 Williams: Lieutenant Colonel Lee, with his legion, covered the 
 right flank; and Lieut. Colonel Henderson, with the state troops, 
 covered the left. A corps de reserve was formed of the cavalry 
 under Lieut. Col. Washington, and the Delaware troops under 
 Capt. Kirkwood. As the Americans came forward to the at- 
 tack, they fell in with some advanced parties of the enemy, at 
 about two or three miles ahead of the main body. These being 
 closely pursued, were driven back, and the action soon became 
 general. The militia were at length forced to give way, but 
 were bravely supported by the second line. In the hottest part 
 of the engagement, General Greene ordered the Maryland and 
 Virginia continentals to charge with trailed arms. This deci- 
 ded the fate of the day. "Nothing," says Dr. Ramsay, "could 
 surpass the intrepidity of both officers and men on this occasion. 
 They rushed on in good order through a heavy cannonade, and 
 a shower of musketry, with such unshaken resolution, that 
 they bore down all before them." The British were broken, 
 closely pursued, and upwards of five hundred of them were ta- 
 ken prisoners. They, however, made a fresh stand in a favora- 
 
IIS NATHANIEL GREENfc. 
 
 ble position, in impenetrable shrubs and a piqueted garden. 
 Lieutenant Colonel Washington, after having made every effort 
 to dislodge them, was wounded and taken prisoner. Four six 
 pounders were brought forward to play upon them, but they 
 fell into their hands; and the endeavors to drive them from their 
 station, being found impracticable, the Americans retired, leav- 
 ing a very strong piquet on the field of battle. Their loss was 
 about live hundred; that of the British upwards of eleven hun- 
 dred. 
 
 General Greene was honored by Congress with a British 
 standard, and a gold medal, emblematical of the engagement, 
 "for his wise, decisive, and magnanimous conduct, in the action 
 at Eutaw Springs, in which, with a force inferior in number 
 to that of the enemy, he obtained a most signal victory." 
 
 In the evening of the succeeding day, Colonel Stewart aban- 
 doned his post, and retreated towards Charleston, leaving be- 
 hind upwards of seventy of his wounded, and a thousand stand 
 of arms. He was pursued a considerable distance, but in vain. 
 
 In Dr. Caldwell's memoirs of the life of Gen. Greene, we 
 have the following interesting story as connected with the se- 
 vere conflict at Eutaw Springs. 
 
 "Two young officers, bearing the same rank, met in personal 
 combat. The American, perceiving that the Briton had a de- 
 cided superiority in the use of the sabre, and being himself of 
 great activity and personal strength, almost gigantic, closed with 
 his adversary, and made him his prisoner. 
 
 "Gentlemanly, generous, and high minded, this event, added 
 to a personal resemblance which they were observed to bear to 
 each other, produced between these two youthful warriors, an 
 intimacy, which increased in a short time to a mutual attach- 
 ment. 
 
 "Not long after the action, the American officer returning 
 home, on furlough, to settle some private business, obtained per- 
 mission for his friend to accompany him. 
 
 "Travelling without attendants or guard, they were both 
 armed and well mounted. Part of their route lay through a 
 settlement highly disaffected to the American cause. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. U9 
 
 " When in the midst of this, having, in consequence of a show- 
 er of rain, thrown around them their cloaks, which concealed 
 their uniforms, they were suddenly encountered by a detach- 
 ment of tories. 
 
 "The young American, determined to die rather than become 
 a prisoner, especially to men whom he held in abhorrence for 
 disloyalty to their country, and the generous Briton resolved not 
 to survive one by whom he had been distinguished and treated 
 so kindly, they both together, with great spirit and self-posses- 
 sion, charged the royalists, having first made signals in their rear, 
 as if directing others to follow them; and thus, without injury 
 on either side, had the address and good fortune to put the par- 
 ty to flight. 
 
 "Arriving in safety at their place of destination, what was 
 their surprise and augmented satisfaction, on findings from some 
 questions proposed by the American officer's father, that they 
 were first cousins! 
 
 "With increasing delight, the young Briton passed several 
 weeks in the family of his kinsman, where the writer of this 
 narrative saw him daily, and often listened with the rapture of 
 a child, to the checkered story of his military adventures. 
 
 "To heighten the occurrence, and render it more romantic, 
 the American officer had a sister, beautiful and accomplished, 
 whose heart soon felt for the gallant stranger, more than the 
 affection due to a cousin. The attachment was mutual. 
 
 "But here the adventure assumed a tragical cast. The 
 youthful foreigner, being exchanged, was summoned to return 
 to his regiment. The message was fatal to his peace. But 
 military honor demanded the sacrifice; and the lady, generous 
 and high-minded as himself, would not be instrumental in dim- 
 ming his laurels. The parting scene was a high-wrought pic- 
 ture of tenderness and sorrow. On taking leave, the parties 
 mutually bound themselves, by a solemn promise, to remain sin- 
 gle a certain number of years, in the hope thai an arrangement 
 contemplated, might again bring them together. A few weeks 
 afterward, the lady expired under an attack of the small-pox. 
 The fate of the officer we never learnt."* 
 
 *Am. Biographical Dictionary 
 
120 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 Judge Johnson in his life of General Greene, says — "At the 
 battle of the Eutaw Springs, Greene says,' that hundreds of my 
 men were naked as they were born.' Posterity will scarcely 
 believe that the bare loins of many brave men who carried 
 death into the enemy's ranks at the Eutaw, were galled by their 
 cartouch boxes, while a folded rag or a tuft of moss protected 
 the shoulders from sustaining the same injury from the musket. 
 Men of other times will inquire, by what magic was the army 
 kept together? By what supernatural power was it made to 
 fight?" 
 
 General Greene in his letters to the secretary at war, says — 
 "We have three hundred men without arms, and more than one 
 thousand so naked that they can be put on duty only in cases of 
 a desperate nature." Again he says — "Our difficulties are so 
 numerous, and our wants so pressing, that I have not a moment's 
 relief from the most painful anxieties. I have more embarrass- 
 ments than it is proper to disclose to the world. Let it suffice 
 to say that this part of the United States has had a narrow es- 
 cape. / fiave been seven months in the Jield without taking off wiy 
 clothes.'''' 
 
 The battle of Eutaw Springs being terminated, Gen. Greene 
 ordered the light troops under Lee and Marion to march cir 
 cuitously, and gain a position in the British rear. But the Brit- 
 ish leader was so prompt in his measures, and so precipitate in 
 his movements, that, leaving his sick and wounded behind him, 
 he made good his retreat. The only injury he received in his 
 flight, was from Leo and Marion, who cut off part of his rear- 
 guard, galled him in his flanks, killed several, and made a num< 
 her of prisoners. 
 
 Such was the issue of the battle of Eutaw. Like that of 
 every other fought by Gen. Greene, it manifested in him judg- 
 ment and sagacity, of the highest order. Although he was re- 
 peatedly forced from the field, it may be truly said of that officer, 
 that he never lost an action — the consequences, at least, being al- 
 ways in his favor. In no instance did he fail to reduce his en- 
 emy to a condition, relatively much worse than that in which he 
 met him, his own condition, of course, being relatively improved. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 121 
 
 The battle of the Eutaw Springs, was the last essay in arnrfs, 
 in which it was the fortune of Gen. Greene to command, and 
 was succeeded by the abandonment of the whole of South Car- 
 olina by the enemy, except Charleston. During the relaxation 
 that followed, a dangerous plot was formed, by some mutinous 
 persons of the army, to deliver up their brave general to the 
 British. The plot was discovered and defeated ; the ringleader 
 apprehended, tried, and shot, and twelve of the most guilty 
 of his associates, deserted to the enemy. To the honor of the 
 Vmerican character, no native of the country was known to be 
 concerned in this conspiracy; Foreigners alone were its pro- 
 jectors and abettors. 
 
 The surrender of Lord Cornwallis, whose enterprising spirit 
 had been, by the British ministry, expected to repair the losses, 
 and wipe away the disgrace which had been incurred through 
 the inactivity and indolence of other Generals, having convinced 
 them of the impracticability of subjugating America, they dis- 
 continued offensive operations in every quarter. The happy pe- 
 riod at length arrived, when, by the virtue and bravery of her 
 sons, aided by the bounty of heaven, America compelled her in- 
 vaders to acknowledge her independence. Then her armies 
 quitted the tented field, and retired to cultivate the arts of peace 
 and happiness. Gen. Greene immediately withdrew from the 
 south, and returned to the bosom of his native state. 
 
 The reception he there experienced, was cordial and joyous. 
 The authorities welcomed him home, with congratulary ad- 
 dresses, and the chief men of the place waited upon him at his 
 dwelling, eager to testify their gratitude for his services, their 
 admiration of his talents and virtues, and the pride with which 
 they recognized him as a native of Rhode Island. 
 
 On the close of the war, the three southern states that had 
 been the most essentially benefitted by his wisdom and valor, 
 manifested at once their sense of justice, and their gratitude to 
 General Greene, by liberal donations. South Carolina present' 
 ed him with an estate, valued at ten thousand pounds sterling; 
 Georgia, with an estate, a few miles from the city of Savannah, 
 
122 NATHANIEL GREENEf 
 
 worth five thousand pounds; and North Carolina, with twenty- 
 five thousand acres of land in the state of Tennessee. 
 
 Having spent about two years in his native state, in the ad- 
 justment of his private affairs, he sailed for Georgia, in October, 
 1785, and settled with his family, on his estate near Savannah. 
 Engaging here in agricultural pursuits, he employed himself 
 closely in arrangements for planting, exhibiting the fairest prom- 
 ise to become as eminent in the practice of the peaceful virtues, 
 as he had already shown himself in the occupations of war. 
 
 But it was the will of Heaven, that in this new sphere of ac- 
 tion, his course should be limited. The short period of seven 
 months was destined to witness its commencement and its close. 
 
 Walking over his grounds, as was his custom, without his hat, 
 on the afternoon of the 15th June, 1786, the day being intense- 
 ly hot, he was suddenly attacked with such a vertigo and pros- 
 tration of strength as to be unable to return to his house with- 
 out assistance. The affection was what was denominated a 
 ' ; stroke of the sun." It was succeeded by fever, accompanied 
 with stupor, delirium, and a disordered stomach. All efforts to 
 subdue it proving fruitless, it terminated fatally on the 19th of 
 tjic month. 
 
 Intelligence of the event being conveyed to Savannah, but 
 one feeling pervaded the place. Sorrow was universal ; and the 
 whole town instinctively assumed the aspect of mourning. All bu- 
 siness was suspended, the dwelling-houses, stores, and shops were 
 closed, and the shipping in the harbor half-masted their colors. 
 
 On the following day, the body of the deceased being con- 
 veyed to the town, at the request of the inhabitants, was inter- 
 red in a private cemetery with military honors, the magistrates 
 of the place, and other public officers, the society of the Cin 
 cinnati, and the citizens generally, joined in the procession.* 
 
 On the 12th of August, of the yearin which the General died, 
 the Congress of the United States unanimously resolved — 
 " That a monument be erected to the memory of the Honorable 
 Nathaniel Greene, at the seat of the Federal Government, with 
 the following inscription.- 
 
 *Gen. Greene h-ffr behind him a wife and five children. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 1'23 
 
 SACRED 
 
 to the memory of the" 
 
 Hon. Nathaniel Greene, 
 
 who departed this life 
 
 the 19th of June, mdcclxxxvi, 
 
 late Major General in the 
 
 service of the U. S. and 
 
 Commander of the Army in the 
 
 Southern Department. 
 
 The United States, in Congress 
 
 assembled, in honor of 
 
 HIS PATRIOTISM, VALOR, AND ABILITY, 
 
 have erected this 
 
 MONUMENT. 
 
 To the disgrace of the nation, no monument has been erect- 
 ed; nor, for the want of a headstone, can any one at present de- 
 signate the spot, where the relics of the Hero of the South lie 
 interred. 
 
 In estimating the military character of Gen. Greene, facts au- 
 thorized the inference, that he possessed a genius adapted by 
 nature to military command. After resorting to arms, his at- 
 tainment to rank was much more rapid, than that of any other 
 officer our country has produced; perhaps the- most rapid that 
 history records. These offices, so high in responsibility and hon- 
 or, were conferred on him, not as matters of personal favor, or 
 family influence, nor yet through the instrumentality of politi- 
 cal intrigue. They were rewards of pre-eminent merit, and to- 
 kens of recognized fitness for the highest functions of military 
 service. 
 
 It is said, that, on his very first appearance in the camp at 
 Cambridge, from the ardor of his zeal, unremitted activity, and 
 strict attention to every duty, h,e was pronounced by soldiers of 
 distinction,* a man of real military genius. 
 
 "His knowledge "(said Gen. Knox to a distinguished citizen 
 of South Carolina,) "is intuitive. He came to us the rawest, 
 and most untutored being I ever met with ; but in less than - 
 CM Pickering and others. 
 
124 NATHAN HALL. 
 
 twelve months, he was equal in military knowledge to any gen- 
 eral officer in the afmy, and very superior to most of them.'* 
 Even the enemy he conquered, did homage to his pre-eminent 
 talents for war. Tarlton, who had strong ground to know him. 
 is reported to have pronounced him, on a public occasion, the 
 most able and accomplished commander that America had pro- 
 duced. 
 
 When acting under the order of others, he never failed to dis- 
 charge, to their satisfaction, the duties intrusted to him, howev- 
 er arduous. But it is the southern department of the union, that 
 constitutes the theatre of his achievements and fame. It w ar- 
 there, where his views were unshackled, and his genius free, 
 that by performing the part of a great captain, he erected for 
 himself a monument of reputation,' durable as history, lofty as 
 victory and conquest could render it, and brightened by all that 
 glory could bestow. 
 
 In compliment to his brilliant successes, the chivalric De h 
 Luzerne, the minister of France, who as a Knight of Malta, 
 must be considered as a competent judge of military merit, thus 
 speaks of him: — "Other Generals subdue their enemies by th<- 
 means with which their country, or their sovereign furnished 
 them, but Greene appears to subdue his enemy by his own 
 means. He commenced his campaign, without either an army, 
 provisions, or military stores. He has asked for nothing since; 
 and yet, scarcely a post arrives from the south, that does not 
 bring intelligence of some new advantage gained over his foe. 
 He conquers by magic. History furnishes no.parallel to Ibis." 
 
 S ATI IAN HALE, 
 
 < 'aptain in the American Army. 
 
 After the unfortunate engagement on Long Island, GreneraJ 
 Washington called a council of war, who determined on an im- 
 mediate retreat to New York. The intention was prudent!; 
 concealed from the army, who knew not whither they were go- 
 ing, but imagined it was to attack the enemy. The field aslil 
 
jNATHAN HALE. 125 
 
 tery, tents, baggage, and ^bout 9,000 men, were conveyed to the 
 city of New York, over the East River, more than a mile wide, 
 in less than thirteen hours, and without the knowledge of the 
 British, though not six hundred yards distant. Providence 
 in a remarkable manner favored the retreating army. The 
 wind, which seemed to prevent the troops getting over at the 
 appointed hour, afterward shifted to their wishes. 
 
 Perhaps the fate of America was never suspended by a more 
 brittle thread than previously to this memorable retreat. A 
 spectacle is here presented of an army, destined for the defence 
 of a great continent, driven to the narrow borders of an island, 
 with a victorious army double its number in front, with naviga- 
 ble waters in its pear; constantly liable to have its communica- 
 tion cut off by the enemy's navy, and every moment exposed to 
 an attack. The presence of mind which animated the com- 
 mander-in-chief in this critical situation, the prudence with 
 Avhich all the necessary measures were executed, redounded as 
 much or more to his honor than the most brilliant victories. An 
 army, to which America looked for safety, preserved; a gene- 
 ral, who was considered as an host himself, saved for the future 
 necessities of his country. Had not, however, the circumstan- 
 ces of the night, of the wind and weather, been favorable, the 
 plan, however well concerted, must have been defeated. To a 
 good Providence, therefore, are the people of America indebted 
 tor the complete success of an enterprise so important in its con- 
 sequences. 
 
 This retreat left the British iji complete possession of Long 
 Tsland. What would be their future operations remained un- 
 certain. To obtain information of their situation, their strength* 
 md future movements, was of high importance. For this pur- 
 pose Gen. Washington applied to Colonel Knowlton, who com- 
 manded a regiment of light infantry, which formed the rear of 
 the American army, and desired him to adopt some mode of gam 
 ing the necessary information. Colonel Knowlton communica 
 red this request fo Captain Nathan Hale, of Connecticut, who 
 (fas a captain in his regiment. 
 
 This young officer, animated by a sense of duh\ and consider*- 
 
126 NATHAN HALE. 
 
 ing that an opportunity presented itself by which he might be 
 useful to^his country, at once offered himself a volunteer for this 
 hazardous service. He passed in disguise to Long Island, and 
 examined every part of the British army, and obtained the best 
 possible information respecting their situation and future ope- 
 rations. 
 
 In his attempt to return he was apprehended, carried before 
 Sir William Howe, and the proof of his object was so clear^ 
 that he frankly acknowledged who he was, and what were his 
 views. Sir William Howe at once gave an order to have him 
 executed the next morning. 
 
 This order was accordingly executed in a mo6t unfeeling man- 
 ner, and by as great a savage as ever disgraced humanity. A 
 clergyman, whose attendance he desired, was refused him; a 
 Bible for a few moments' devotion was not procured, although 
 he wished it. Letters, which on the morning of his execution, 
 he wrote to his mother, and other friends, were destroyed; and 
 this very extraordinary reason given by the grovost-martial, 
 *'that the rebels should not know they had a man in their 
 army who could die with so much firmness." 
 
 Unknown to all around him, without a single friend to offer 
 him the least consolation, thus fell as amiable and as worthy a 
 young man as America could boast, with this as his dying obser- 
 vation: that "he only lamented that he had but one life to 
 
 LOSE FOR HIS COUNTRY." 
 
 Although the manner of this execution will ever be abhorred 
 by every friend to humanity and religion, yet there cannot be a 
 question but that the sentence was conformable to the rules of 
 war, and the practice of nations in similar cases. 
 
 It is, however, but justice to the character of Captain Hale 
 to observe, that his motives for engaging in .this service were 
 entirely different from those which generally influence others in 
 .similar-circumstances. Neither expectation of promotion, nor 
 pecuniary reward, induced him to this attempt. A sense of 
 duty, a hope that he might in this way be useful to his country, 
 and an opinion which he had adopted, that every kind of ser- 
 vice necessary to the general good became honorable by Being 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. ^ 
 
 accessary, were the great motives which induced him to engage 
 in an enterprise by which his connexions lost a most amiable 
 friend, and his country one of its most promising supporters. 
 
 The fate of this most unfortunate young man, excites the 
 most interesting reflections. To see such a character, in the 
 flower of youth, cheerfully treading in the most hazardous 
 paths, influenced by the purest intentions, and only emulous to 
 do good to his country, without the imputation of a crime, fall a 
 victim to policy, must have been wounding to the feelings even 
 of his enemies. 
 
 Should a comparison be drawn between Major Andre and 
 Captain Hale, injustice would be done to the latter, should he 
 not be placed on an equal ground with the former. While al- 
 most every historian of the American revolution has celebrated 
 the virtues and lamented the fate of Andre, Hale has remained 
 unnoticed, and it is scarcely known such a character existed. 
 
 To the memory of Andre his country has erected the most 
 magnificent monuments, and bestowed on his family the highest 
 honors and most liberal rewards. To the memory of Hale, not 
 a stone has been erected, nor an inscription to preserve his ashes 
 from insult ! 
 
 ALEXANDER HAMILTON, 
 
 Inspector-General in the American Army. 
 
 Colonel Hamilton was a native of the Island of St. Croix, 
 and was born in 1757. His father was the younger son of an 
 English family, and his mother was an American lady of re- 
 spectable connexions. At the age of sixteen, he accompanied 
 his mother to New-York, and entered a student of Columbia 
 College, in which he continued about three years. While a 
 member of this institution, the first buddings of his intellect 
 gave presages of his future eminence. 
 
 The contest with Great Britain called forth the first talent- 
 on each side, and his juvenile pen asserted the violated rights of 
 'be American colonies against the most respectable writers. 
 
128 ALEXANDER HAMILTON . 
 
 His papers exhibited such evidence of intellect and wisdom, thai 
 they were ascribed to Mr. Jay ; and when the truth was disco- 
 vered, America saw, with astonishment, a lad of seventeen, in 
 the list of her able advocates. 
 
 The first sound of war awakened his martial spirit, and, at 
 the age of eighteen he entered the army as captain, in the 
 corps of artillery. Soon after the war was transferred to the 
 Hudson, in 1777, his superior endowments recommended him 
 to the attention of the commander-in-chief, into whose family, 
 before completing his twenty-first year, he was invited to enter, 
 as an aid, with the rank of lieutenant-colonel. Equally brave 
 and intelligent, he continued in this situation to display a degree 
 of firmness and capacity which commanded the confidence and 
 esteem of the principal officers in the army. 
 
 His sound understanding, comprehensive views, application 
 and promptitude soon gained him the entire confidence of Gen- 
 eral Washington. In such a school, it was impossible but that; 
 his genius should be nourished. By intercourse with his gene- 
 ral, by surveying his plans, observing his consummate prudence, 
 and by a minute inspection of the springs of national opera- 
 tions, lie became fitted for command. 
 
 Throughout the campaign, which terminated in the capture 
 of Lord Cornwallis, Col. Hamilton commanded a battalion of 
 light infantry. At the siege of York, in 1 731, when the second 
 parallel was opened, two redoubts, which flanked itj and were 
 advanced three hundred yards in front of the British works, very 
 much annoyed the men in the trenches: it was resolved to possess- 
 them; and to prevent jealousies, the attack of the one was com- 
 mitted to the French, and of the other to the Americans. The 
 detachment of the Americans was commanded by the Marquis 
 de la Fayette - r and Colonel Hamilton, at his own earnest re- 
 quest, led the advanced corps, consisting of two battalions. 
 Towards the close of the day, on the fourteenth of October, the 
 troops rushed to the charge without Aring a single gun; and so 
 great was their ardour that, they did not give the sappers time 
 to remove the abattis and palisades. Passing over them, they 
 availed the works with irresistible impetuosity on all sides at 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 129 
 
 once, and entered them with such rapidity that their loss was 
 inconsiderable. The irritation produced by the recent carnage 
 at Fort Griswold, had not so far subdued the humanity of the 
 American character as to induce retaliation. Not a man was 
 killed except in action. " Incapable, 1 ' said Colonel Hamilton, 
 in his report, " of imitating examples of barbarity, and forget- 
 ting recent provocation, the soldiery spared every man, thai 
 ceased to resist." 
 
 Soon after the capture of Cornwallis, Hamilton sheathed his 
 sword, aod being encumbered with a family, and destitute ot 
 funds, at the age of twenty-five, applied to the study of the law. 
 In this profession he soon rose to distinction. But the critical 
 circumstances of the existing government, induced him to accept 
 a seat in the Congress of the United States. In all the impor- 
 tant acts of the day, he performed a conspicuous part, and was 
 greatly distinguished among those distinguished characters whom 
 the crisis had attracted to the councils of the country. Being 
 a member of Congress, while the question of the commutation 
 of the half pay of the army for a sum in gross, was in debate, 
 delicacy, and a desire to be useful to the army, by removing the 
 idea of his having an interest in the question, induced him to 
 write to the secretary of war, and relinquish his claim to half 
 pay, which, or the equivalent, he never received. 
 
 We have now arrived at an interesting and important period 
 in the life of Hamilton. After witnessing the debility of the 
 old confederation, and its inefficiency to accomplish the objects 
 proposed by its articles, viz. "common defence, security of 
 liberty, and general welfare," a convention of the states was 
 agreed upon, for the purpose of forming an efficient federal 
 government. In this convention was collected the sound wis- 
 dom of the country — the patriots and sages, who, by their valour 
 and their prudence, had carried her triumphantly through the 
 stormy period of the revolution, and had given her a name 
 among the nations of the earth. To this convention Hamilton 
 was appointed a delegate from the state of New- York. It con- 
 vened at the state house in Philadelphia, May 25, 1787. A 
 unanimous vote placed General Washington in the chair. 
 17 
 
130 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 "It was soon found," says Mr. Martin, one of the delegates 
 from Maryland, "there were among us three different parties, of 
 very different sentiments and views. One party, whose object 
 and wish it was to abolish and annihilate all state governments, 
 and to bring forward one general government over this extensive 
 continent, of a monarchical nature, under certain restrictions 
 and limitations: — Those who openly avowed this sentiment 
 were, it is true, but few, yet is is equally true, sir, that there was 
 a considerable number who did not openly avow it, who were, 
 by myself, and many others of the convention, considered as 
 being rn reality favorers of that sentiment, and acting upon 
 those principles, covertly endeavoring to carry into effect what 
 they well knew openly and avowedly could not be accomplished. 
 
 " The Second party was not for the abolition of the state go- 
 vernments, nor for the introduction of a monarchical govern- 
 ment under any form: but they wished to establish such a system 
 as could give their own states undue power and influence in the 
 government over the other states. 
 
 " A third party was what I considered truly federal and re- 
 publican- this party was nearly equal in number with the other 
 two, and were composed of the delegations from Connecticut, 
 New-York, New- Jersey, Delaware, and in part from Maryland ; 
 also of some individuals from other representations. ,, 
 
 During the heat of party animosity, much was said and writ 
 ten o,f the monarchical views of Hamilton, and of his attempts 
 in the convention which formed our constitution, to carry those 
 Views into effect. How far the sentiments imputed to him are 
 correct, the following paper, read by him, as containing his ideas 
 of a suitable plan of government for the United States will 
 show : — 
 
 "1. The supreme legislative power of the United States of 
 America to be vested in two distinct bodies of men, the one to be 
 called the assembly, the other the senate, who, together shall form 
 the legislature of the United States, with power to pass all laws 
 whatsoever, subject to the negative hereafter mentioned. 
 
 " 2. The assembly to consist of persons elected by the peo- 
 ple, to serve for three years. 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON, 13i 
 
 ; # 3. The senate to consist of persons elected to serve during 
 good behaviour ; their election to be made by electors chosen for 
 that purpose by the people. In order to this, the states to be divi- 
 ded into election districts. On the death, removal, or resigna- 
 tion of any senator, his place to be filled out of the district from 
 which he came. 
 
 «* 4. The supreme executive authority of the United States 
 to be vested in a governor, to be elected to aerve during good 
 behaviour. His election to be made by electors, chosen by 
 electors, chosen by the people, in the election districts aforesaid. 
 His authorities and functions to be as follows: — 
 
 <4 To have a negative upon all laws about to be passed, and 
 the execution of all laws passed; to have the entire direction of 
 war, when authorized, or begun: to have, with the advice and 
 approbation of the senate, the power of making all treaties; to 
 have the sole appointment of the heads or chief officers of the 
 departments of finance, war, and foreign affairs; to have the 
 nomination of all other officers, (ambassadors to foreign nations 
 included) subject to the approbation or rejection of the senate; 
 to have the power of pardoning all offences, except treason, 
 which he shall not pardon, without the approbation of the senate. 
 
 " 5. On the death, resignation, or removal of the governor, 
 his authorities to be exercised by the president of the senate, 
 until a successor be appointed. 
 
 " 6. The senate to have the sole power of declaring war; 
 the power of advising and approving all treaties; the power of 
 approving or rejecting all appointments of officers, except the 
 heads or chiefs of the departments of finance, war, and foreign 
 affairs. 
 
 " 7. The supreme judicial authority of the United States 
 to be vested in judges, to hold their offices during good be- 
 haviour, with adequate and permanent salaries. This court to 
 have original jurisdiction in all cases of capture; and an appel- 
 lative jurisdiction in all causes, in which the revenues of the 
 general government, or the citizens of foreign nations, are con- 
 cerned. 
 
 " 8. The legislature of the United States to have power fn 
 
132 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 institute courts in each state, for the determination of all mat- 
 ters of general concern. 
 
 " 9. The governors, senators, and all officers of the United 
 States, to he liable to impeachment, for mal and corrupt con- 
 duct; and, upon conviction, to be removed from office, and dis- 
 qualified for holding any place of trust or profit. All im- 
 peachments to be tried by a court to consist of the chief, or senior 
 judge of the superior court of law in each state; provided, that 
 such judge hold his place during good behaviour, and have a 
 permanent salary. 
 
 " 10. All laws of the particular states, contrary to the con- 
 stitution or laws of the United States, to be utterly void. And 
 the better to prevent such laws being passed, the governor or 
 president of each state shall be appointed by the general gov- 
 ernment,, and shall have a negative upon the laws about to be 
 passed in the state of which he is governor, or president. 
 
 "11. No state to have any forces, land or naval; and the 
 militia of all the states to be under the sole and exclusive direc- 
 tion of the United States; the officers of which to be appointed 
 and commissioned by them." 
 
 Such being the views of Hamilton, the constitution, framed 
 by the convention, did not completely meet his wishes. He 
 was afraid it did not contain sufficient means of strength for its 
 own preservation, and that in consequence we should share the 
 fate of many other republics, and pass through anarchy to des- 
 potism. He was in favor of a more permanent executive and 
 senate. He wished for a strong government, which would not 
 be shaken by the conflict of different interests through an ex- 
 tensive territory, and which should be adequate to all the forms 
 of national exigency. He was apprehensive, that the increased 
 wealth and population of the states would lead to encroach- 
 ments on the union. These were his views and feelings, and he 
 freely and honestly expressed them. 
 
 A respectable member of the convention once remarked 
 that if the constitution did not succeed, on trial, Mr. Hamilton 
 was less responsible for that result than any other member, for 
 he fully and frankly pointed out to the convention what he ap- 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 133 
 
 prehended were the infirmities to which it was liable. And 
 that if it answered the fond expectations of the public, the com- 
 munity would be more indebted to Mr. Hamilton than to any 
 other member; for after its essential outlines were agreed to, 
 he labored most indefatigably to heal those infirmities, and to 
 guard against ihe evils to which they might expose it. 
 
 The patriotism of Hamilton was not of that kind which 
 yields every thing because it cannot accomplish all that it de- 
 sires. Believing the constitution incomparably superior to the 
 old confederation, he exerted all his talents in its support. 
 
 After the publication o( the constitution, Hamilton, in con* 
 cert with Mr. Jay, and Mr. Madison, commenced the "Federal- 
 ist," a series of essays, addressed to the people of the state of 
 New-York, in favor of the adoption of the constitution. These 
 papers first made their appearance in the daily prints, early in 
 November, 1787, and the work was not concluded until a short 
 time previous to the meeting of the state convention, in June, 
 1788. It was well understood that Mr. Hamilton was the prin- 
 cipal author, and wrote at least three-fourths of the numbers. 
 This work is not to be classed among the ephemeral productions 
 which are calculated to produce a party purpose, and when that 
 purpose is answered, to expire for ever. It is a profound and 
 learned disquisition on th« principles of a federal representative 
 government, and combines an ardent attachment to public lib- 
 erty. This work will no doubt endure as long as any of the 
 republican institutions of this country, on which it is so luminous 
 and elegant a commentary. 
 
 His voice co-operated with his pen. In the convention of the 
 state, which met to deliberate on the federal constitution, he 
 was returned a member, and was always heard with awe, per- 
 haps with conviction, though not always with success. But 
 when the crisis arrived ; when a vote was to determine whether 
 New- York should retain or relinquish her place in the union; 
 and preceding occurrences made it probable that she would 
 choose the worst part of the alternative, Hamilton arose in re- 
 doubled strength. He argued, he remonstrated, he entreated, 
 he warned, he painted, till apathy itself was moved, and the 
 
134 ALEXANDER HAMILTON- 
 
 most relentless of human things, a preconcerted majority, wad 
 staggered and broken. Truth was again victorious, and New- 
 York enrolled herself under the standard of the federal consti- 
 tution. 
 
 The constitution having gone into operation, and the execu- 
 tive departments being established, Mr. Hamilton was appointed 
 in the summer of 1789, to the office of secretary of the treasury. 
 The task of recruiting public credit, of drawing order and 
 arrangement from the chaotic confusion in which the finances of 
 America were involved, and of devising means which should 
 render the revenue productive, and commensurate with the de- 
 mand, in a manner least burdensome to the people, was justly 
 classed among the most arduous of the duties which devolved 
 on the new government. 
 
 This office he held between five and six years"; and when we 
 look back to the measures that within that period he originated, 
 matured and vindicated, we are astonished in the contempla- 
 tion of the various powers of his ingenious and exalted mind. 
 Mr. Hamilton is justly considered the Founder of the Public 
 Credit of this country. 
 
 The manner in which the several states entered into and 
 conducted the war of the revolution will be recollected. Act- 
 ing in some respect separately, and in others conjointly, for the 
 attainment of a common object, their resources were exerted, 
 sometimes under the authority of Congress, sometimes under 
 the authority of the local governments, to repel the enemy 
 wherever he came. The debt incurred in support of the war 
 was therefore, in the first instance, contracted partly by the con- 
 tinent, and partly by the states. When the system of requisi- 
 tion was adopted, the transactions of the union were carried on, 
 in a great degree, through the agency of the states, and when 
 the measure of compensating the army, for the depreciation of 
 their pay, became necessary, this burden, under the recommen- 
 dation of Congress, was assumed by the respective states. In 
 their exertions to meet the calls of Congress, some degree of in- 
 equality had obtained, and they looked anxiously to a settlement 
 of accounts between them. 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 135 
 
 To assume these debts, and to fund them in common with that 
 which continued to be the proper debt of the union, was pro- 
 posed by Mr. Hamilton, in his first report to Congress, as Secre- 
 tary of the Treasury. 
 
 This celebrated report, which has been alike the fruitful 
 theme of extravagant praise and bitter censure, was rigorously 
 opposed in Congress. It was agreed by all, that the foreign 
 debt should be provided for in the manner proposed by the 
 Secretary, but with respect to the domestic debt, the same una- 
 nimity was far from prevailing. It was contended that the 
 general government would acquire an undue influence, and 
 that the state governments would be annihilated by the mea- 
 sure. Not only would all the influence of the public credit- 
 ors, be thrown into the scale of the former, but it would absorb 
 all the powers of taxation, and leave the latter only the shad- 
 ow of a government. This would probably terminate in ren- 
 dering the state governments useless, and would destroy the 
 system so recently establishe-d. 
 
 The constitutional authority of the federal government to 
 assume these debts was questioned. 
 
 On the ground of policy it was objected, that the assump- 
 tion would impose on the United States a burden, the weight 
 of which was unascertained, and which would require an ex- 
 tension of taxation beyond the limits which prudence would 
 prescribe. That the debt, by being thus accumulated, would 
 be perpetuated, and the Secretary was charged with the doc- 
 trine, "that a public debt was a public blessing." 
 
 The measure was said to be unwise too, as it would aflfect 
 the public credit. Such an augmentation of the debt must 
 inevitably depreciate its- value; since it was the character of 
 paper, whatever denomination it might assume, to diminish in 
 value in proportion to the quantity in circulation. 
 
 In support of the assumption, the debts of the states were 
 traced to their origin. America, it was said, had engaged in 
 a war, the object of which was equally interesting to every 
 part of the union. It was not the war of a particular state, 
 but of the United States. It was not the liberty and indepen- 
 
136 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 dence of a part, bat of the whole, for which they had contend- 
 ed, and which they had acquired. The cause was a common 
 cause. As brethren, the American people had consented to 
 hazard property and life in its defence. All the sums expend- 
 ed in this great object, whatever might be the authority under 
 which they were raised or appropriated, conduced to the same 
 end. Troops were raised and military stores were purchased, 
 before Congress assumed the command of the army, or control 
 of the war. The ammunition which repulsed the enemy at 
 Bunker's Hill, was purchased by Massachusetts, and formed a 
 part of the debt of that state. 
 
 The great moving principle which governed Hamilton in his 
 department was good faith. " Public credit," said he, " could 
 only be maintained by good faith, by a punctual performance 
 of contracts;" and, good faith was recommended not only by 
 the strongest inducements of political expediency, but was en- 
 forced by considerations of still higher authority. There are 
 arguments for it which rest on the immutable principles of mor- 
 al obligation. And in proportion as the mind is disposed to con- 
 template in the order of Providence, an intimate connexion be- 
 tween public virtue and public happiness, will be its repugnan- 
 cy to a violation of those principles. 
 
 "This reflection," he said, "derived additional strength from 
 the nature of the debt of the United States. It was the price of 
 tiberty. The faith of America had been repeatedly pledged for it, 
 and with solemnities that gave peculiar force to the obligation." 
 
 His report, though strenuously opposed, was finally adopted, 
 and under his administration, the finances advanced to a state 
 of prosperity beyond all expectation, and so as to engage the 
 attention, and command the confidence of Europe. The effect 
 was electrical. Commerce revived, the ploughshare glittered ; 
 property recovered its value; credit was established; revenue 
 created; the treasury filled. 
 
 The insinuation that has often been inculcated, that Hamil- 
 ton patronized the doctrine, that a public debt was a public bles- 
 sing, is without the shadow of a foundation. He inculcates 
 with great solicitude in his reports, that "the progressive accu- 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 137 
 
 mulation of debts was the natural disease of governments; that 
 it ought to be guarded against with provident foresight and in- 
 flexible perseverence; that it ought to be a fundamental maxim 
 in the system of public credit, that the creation of public debt 
 should always be accompanied with the means of extinguishment.''' 
 
 The beneficial effects of the measures recommended by Ham- 
 ilton as Secretary of the Treasury; and which are known and 
 felt constantly, have at last accomplished what argument alone 
 could not do — they forced a universal conviction on the public 
 mind ; and all the dread spectres which were conjured up at the 
 time to terrify the imagination and blind the judgment, have 
 long since disappeared before the light of experience. He has 
 left to his successor little more to do than to follow his precepts, 
 and to shine by the lustre of his example. 
 
 Mr. Hamilton, in his character of Secretary of the Treasury, 
 was also one of the constitutional advisers of the president, in 
 relation generally to the duties of his office. 
 
 In January, 1795, Hamilton resigned the office of Secretary 
 of the Treasury, and once more returned to private life. In the 
 rage and rancour of party, at the time, no wonder that the 
 tongue of slander followed him. So fair was the opportunity 
 of acquiring a princely fortune which was presented to him, and 
 the disposition to profit by it, so little at variance with the com* 
 mon estimate of honorable gain, that few supposed it possible 
 to resist the temptation. The fact being presumed, every pet- 
 ty politician erected himself into a critic; while the gazettes, 
 the streets, the polls of election, resounded with the millions 
 imassed by the Secretary. It is natural that the idolaters of 
 gold should treat the contempt of it as a chimera. But gold 
 was not the idol of Hamilton. Exquisitely delicate toward of- 
 ficial character, he touched none of the advantages which he put 
 within the reach of others; he rested not a dollar in the public 
 funds. He entered into the public service with property of his 
 own, the well-earned reward of professional talent; he contin- 
 ued in it till his funds were gone; and left it, to get bread for a 
 suffering family. It was surely enough that he had impover- 
 ished himself while he was enriching thf rommonwraHb : buf 
 18 
 
138 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 it was beyond measure insulting to charge him, under such cii^ 
 cumstances, with invading the public purse. 
 
 The last great occasion which called Hamilton upon the 
 theatre of public action, existed in the spring of the year 1798. 
 It will be recollected that France had been long making pi- 
 ratical depredations upon our commerce; that our ministers 
 had been treated with the grossest indignity, and money de- 
 manded of the United States on terms the most degrading. 
 Open and determined war was the consequence. 
 
 Washington was appointed Lieutenant-General and Comman- 
 der-in-chief. The following letter from him to President Adams, 
 on the subject of appointing Hamilton to the second in com- 
 mand, shows his high standing in the opinion of the illustrious 
 Washington, 
 
 "Mount -Vernon, Sept. 25, 1798. 
 
 " It is an invidious task, at all times, to draw comparisons, 
 and I shall avoid it as much as possible; but I have no hesita- 
 tion in declaring, that if the public is to be deprived of the 
 services of Col. Hamilton in the military line, the post he was 
 destined to fill will not easily be supplied — and that this is the 
 sentiment of the public, 1 think I may venture to pronounce. 
 Although Colonel Hamilton has never acted in the character 
 of a general officer, yet his opportunities, as the principal and 
 most confidential aid of the commander-in-chief, afforded him the 
 means of viewing every thing on a larger scale than those who 
 had only divisions and brigades to attend to; who knew nothing 
 of the correspondences of the commander-in-chief, or of the 
 various orders to, or transactions with, the general staff of the 
 army. These advantages, and his having served with useful- 
 ness in the old Congress, in the general convention, and having 
 filled one of the most important departments of government with 
 acknowledged abilities and integrity, have placed him on high 
 ground; and made him a conspicuous character in the United 
 States, and even in Europe. To these, as a matter of no small 
 consideration, may be added, that as a lucrative practice in the 
 line of his profession is his most certain dependence, the induce- 
 ment to relinquish it must in some degree be commensurate. 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 139 
 
 By some he is considered as an ambitious man, and therefore a 
 dangerous one. That he is ambitious I shall readily grant, but 
 it is of that laudable kind, which prompts a man to excel in what- 
 fver he takes in hand. 
 
 "He is enterprising, quick in his perceptions — and his judg- 
 ment intuitively great: qualities essential to a great military 
 • haracter; and therefore I repeat, that his loss will be irreparable. 
 
 "GEORGE WASHINGTON." 
 
 Hamilton was accordingly appointed Inspector General, 
 agreeable to the wishes of Washington. On the death of that 
 great man, he succeeded to the office of commander-in-chief, 
 and continued in that character until the army was disbanded 
 in the summer of 1 800, when he returned again to his profession 
 in the city of New York. In this place he passed the remain- 
 der of his days. 
 
 In June, 1804, Colonel Burr, Vice-president of the United 
 States, addressed a letter to General Hamilton, requiring his 
 acknowledgment or denial of the use of any expression derog- 
 atory to the honor of the former. Perhaps the most satisfactory 
 manner of introducing the reader to this subject, will be to begin 
 with the correspondence which led to the fatal interview. It is 
 as follows: 
 
 New York, June 18, 1804. 
 Sir — I send for your perusal a letter signed Charles D. Cotf. 
 per, which, though apparently published some time ago, has but 
 very recently come to my knowledge. Mr. Van Ness, who does 
 me the favor to deliver this, will point out to you that clause of 
 the letter to which I particularly request your attention. 
 
 You must perceive, Sir, the necessity of a prompt and un- 
 qualified acknowledgment or denial of the use of any expres- 
 sion which would warrant the assertions of Dr. Cooper. 
 I have the honor to be your obedient serv't, 
 
 A. BURR. 
 Gen. Hamilton. 
 
 New York, June 20, 1804. 
 Sir— 1 havr: maturely reflected on the subject qf your letter 
 
140 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 of the 18th iust. and the more I have reflected the more I haw- 
 become convinced, that I could not, without manifest impropri- 
 ety, make the avowal or disavowal which you seem to think ne- 
 cessary. The clause pointed out by Mr. Van Ness is in these 
 terms: "I could detail to you n still more despicable opinion which 
 General Hamilton has expressed of Mr. Burr. 1 ' To endeavor 
 to discover the meaning of this declaration, I was obliged to 
 seek, in the antecedent part of this letter, for the opinion to 
 which it referred, as having been already disclosed. I found 
 it in these words: — "General Hamilton and Judge Kent have 
 declared, in substance, that they looked upon Mr. Burr to be a 
 dangerous man, and one who ought not to be trusted with the 
 reins of government." 
 
 The language of Dr. Cooper plainly implies, that he consid- 
 ered this opinion of you, which he attributes to me, as a despi- 
 cable one; but he affirms that 1 have expressed some other, more 
 despicable, without, however, mentioning to whom, when or 
 where. 'Tis evident that the phrase "still more despicable,'"" 
 admits of infinite shades, from very light to very dark. How 
 am 1 to judge of the degree intended? or how shall I annex any 
 precise idea to language so indefinite? 
 
 Between gentlemen, despicable, and more despicable arc not 
 worth the pains of distinction; when, therefore, you do not in- 
 terrogate me, as to the opinion which is specifically ascribed to 
 me, I must conclude, that you view it as within the limits to 
 which the animadversions of political opponents upon each other 
 may justifiably extend, and consequently as not warranting the 
 idea of it which Dr. Cooper appears to entertain. If so, whai 
 precise inference could you draw, as a guide for your condud, 
 were I to acknowledge that I had expressed an opinion of you 
 still more despicable than the one which is particularized? How 
 could you be sure that even this opinion had exceeded the 
 bounds which you would yourself deem admissible between 
 political opponents? 
 
 But I forbear further comment on the embarrassment, to 
 which the requisition you have made naturally leads. The oc- 
 casion forbids a more ample illustration, though nothing could 
 be more easy than to pursue if. 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 141 
 
 Repeating that I cannot reconcile it with propriety lo make the 
 acknowledgment or denial you desire, I will add that I deem it 
 inadmissible on principle, to consent to be interrogated as to the 
 "justness of the inferences which may be drawn by others from 
 whatever I may have said of a political opponent, in the course of 
 fifteen years competition. If there were no other objection to 
 it, this is sufficient, that it would tend to expose my sincerity and 
 delicacy to injurious imputations from every person who may at 
 any time have conceived the import of my expressions, differently 
 from what I may then have intended or may afterward recollect. 
 I stand ready to avow or disavow promptly and explicitly any pre- 
 cise or definite opinion which I maybe charged with having 
 declared of any gentleman. — More than this cannot be fitly ex- 
 pected from me; and especially it cannot be reasonably expec- 
 ted that I shall enter into an explanation upon a basis so vague as 
 that which you have adopted. I trust, on more reflection, you 
 will see the matter in the same light with me. If not, I can only 
 regret the circumstance, and must abide the consequences. 
 
 The publication of Dr. Cooper was never seen by me till at 
 fcr the receipt of your letter. 
 
 I have tho honor to be, &c. 
 
 A. HAMILTON. 
 < oL Burr. 
 
 J\Tezo-York, 21 si June, 1804. 
 
 Sir — Your letter of the 20th instant, has been this day recei- 
 ved. Having considered it attentively, I regret to find in it 
 nothing of that sincerity and delicacy which you profess to 
 value. 
 
 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. -• 
 
 The common sense of mankind affixes to fhe epithet adopted 
 by Dr. Cooper, the idea of dishonor. It has been publicly ap- 
 plied to me under the sanction of your name. The question is 
 not, whether he has understood the meaning of the word, or has 
 u«ed it according to syntax, and with grammatical accuracy: but 
 
142 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 whether you have authorized this application, either directly or 
 by uttering expressions or opinions derogatory to my honor. 
 The time " when" is in your own knowledge, but no way mate- 
 rial to me, as the calumny has now first been disclosed, so as to 
 become the subject of my notice, and as the effect is present 
 and palpable. 
 
 Your letter has furnished me with new reasons for requiring 
 a definite reply. 
 
 I have the honor to be, 
 
 Sir, your obedient, 
 
 A. BURR. 
 Gen. Hamilton. 
 
 On Saturday, the 22d of June, General Hamilton, for the first 
 time, called on Mr. Pendleton, and communicated to him the 
 preceding correspondence. He informed him that in a conver- 
 sation with Mr. Van Ness, at the time of receiving the last letter, 
 he told Mr. Van Ness that he considered that letter as rude and 
 offensive, and that it was not possible for him to give it any other 
 answer than that Mr. Burr must take such steps as he might 
 think proper. He said further, that Mr. Van Ness requested 
 him to take time to deliberate, and then return an answer, when 
 he might possibly entertain a different opinion, and that he 
 would call on him to receive it. That his reply to Mr. Van 
 Ness was, that he did not perceive it possible for him to give 
 any other answer than that he had mentioned, unless Mr. Burr 
 would take back his last letter and write one which would ad- 
 mit of a different reply. He then gave Mr. Pendleton the let- 
 ter hereafter mentioned, of the 22d June, to be delivered to 
 Mr. Van Ness, when he should call on Mr. Pendleton for an 
 answer, and went to his country house. 
 
 The next day General Hamilton received while there, the 
 following letter: — 
 
 June 23d, 1804. 
 
 Sir — In the afternoon of yesterday, I reported to Col. Burr 
 the result of my last interview with you, and appointed the eve- 
 ning to receive his further instructions. Some private engage 
 ments, however, prevented me from calling on him till (his mor 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 143 
 
 mng. On my return to the city, I found, upon enquiry, both at 
 your office and house, that you had returned to your residence 
 in the country. Lest an interview there might be less agreea- 
 ble to you than elsewhere, I have taken the liberty of addressing 
 you this note to inquire when and where it will be most conve* 
 nient for you to receive a communication, 
 
 Your most obedient and very humble servant, 
 
 W. P. VAN NESS. 
 Gen. Hamilton. 
 
 Mr. Pendleton understood from General Hamilton that he 
 immediately answered, that if the communication was pressing 
 he would receive it at his country house that day; if not, he 
 would be at his house in town the next morning at nine o'clock. 
 But he did not give Mr. Pendleton any copy of this note. 
 
 Mew-York, June 22, 1804. 
 
 Sir — Your first letter, in a style |too peremptory, made a de- 
 mand, in my opinion, unprecedented and unwarrantable. My 
 answer, pointing out the embarrassment, gave you an opportu- 
 nity to take a less exceptionable course. You have not chosen 
 to do it; but by your last letter, received this day, containing ex- 
 pressions indecorous and improper, you have increased the diffi- 
 culties to explanation intrinsically incident to the nature of your 
 application. 
 
 If by a " definite reply," you mean the direct avowal or disa- 
 vowal required in your first letter, I have no other answer to give, 
 than that which has already been given. If you mean any thing 
 different, admitting of greater latitude, it is requisite you should 
 explain. 
 
 I have the honour to be, 
 
 Sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 ALEX. HAMILTON. 
 
 jVaron Burr, Esq. 
 
 This letter, although dated on the 22d of June, remained in 
 Mr. Pendleton's possession until the 25th, within which period hg 
 had several conversations with Mr. Van Ness. In these con- 
 versations Mr. Pendleton endeavored to illustrate and enforce 
 
144 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 ih<? propriety of the ground General Hamilton had taken. Mi , 
 Pendleton mentioned to Mr. Van Ness as the result, that if Col. 
 Burr would write a letter, requesting to know in substance 
 whether, in the conversation to which Dr. Cooper alluded, any 
 particular instance of dishonorable conduct was imputed to Col. 
 Burr, or whether there was any impeachment of his private 
 character, General Hamilton would declare to the best of his 
 recollection, what passed in that conversation: and Mr. Pendle- 
 ton read to Mr. Van Ness a paper containing the substance of 
 what General Hamilton would say on that subject, which is as 
 follows: — 
 
 " General Hamilton says he cannot imagine to what Dr. Coo- 
 per may have alluded, unless it were to a conversation at Mr. 
 Tayler's in Albany, last winter, (at which he and Gen. Hamil- 
 ton were present.) Gen. Hamilton cannot recollect distinctly 
 the particulars of that conversation so as to undertake to repeat 
 them, without running the risk of varying, or omitting what 
 might be deemed important circumstances. The expressions 
 are entirely forgotten, and the specific ideas imperfectly remem- 
 bered; but to the best of his recollection it consisted of com- 
 ments on the political principles and views of Colonel Burr, and 
 the result that might be expected from them in the event of his 
 election as governor, without reference to any particular instance 
 of past conduct, or to private character." 
 
 After the delivery of the letter of the 22d, as above mention- 
 ed; in another interview with Mr. Van Ness, he desired Miv 
 Pendleton to give him in writing the substance of what he had 
 proposed on the part of General Hamilton, which Mr. Pendle- 
 ton did in the words following: — 
 
 " In answer to a letter properly adapted to obtain from Gene 
 ral Hamilton a declaration whether he had charged Col. Bun 
 with any particular instance of dishonorable conduct, or had 
 impeached his private character, either in the conversation allu- 
 ded to by Dr. Cooper, or in any other particular instance to be 
 specified: he would be able to answer consistently with his ho- 
 nor, and the truth, in substance, that the conversation to which 
 Dr. Cooper alluded, turned wholly on political topics, and did 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 145 
 
 uci attribute to Col. Burr any instance of dishonorable conduct, 
 nor relate to his private character; and in relation to any other 
 language or conversation of General Hamilton which Colonel 
 Burr will specify, a prompt and frank avowal or denial will be 
 given." 
 
 On the 26th June Mr. Pendleton received the following let- 
 ter: — 
 
 Sir — The letter which you yesterday delivered me, and your 
 subsequent communication, in Col. Burr's opinion, evince no dis- 
 position, on the part of Gen. Hamilton to come to a satisfactory 
 accommodation. The injury complained of, and the reparation 
 expected, are so definitely expressed in Colonel Burr's letter of 
 the 21st instant, that there is not perceived a necessity for fur- 
 ther explanation on his part. The difficulty that would result 
 from confining the inquiry to any particular times and occasions 
 must be manifest. The denial of a specified conversation only, 
 would leave strong implications that on other occasions impro- 
 per language had been used. When and where injurious 
 opinions and expressions have been uttered by General Hamil- 
 ton, must be best known to him, and of him only will Col. Burr 
 inquire. No denial or declaration will be satisfactory, unless it be 
 general, so as wholly to exclude the idea that rumours derogatory to 
 Col. Burr's honor have originated with Gen. Hamilton, or have beat 
 fairly inferred from any thing he has said. A definite reply to a 
 requisition of this nature was demanded by Col. Burr's letter 
 of the 21st instant. This being refused, invites the alternative 
 alluded to in Gen. Hamilton's letter of the 20th. 
 
 It was required by the position in which the controversy was 
 placed by General Hamilton, on Friday* last, and I was imme- 
 diately furnished with a communication demanding a personal 
 interview. The necessity of this measure has not, in the opin- 
 ion of Col. Burr, been diminished by the General's last letter, or 
 any communication which has since been received. I am conse- 
 quently again instructed to deliver you a message, as soon as it 
 may be convenient for you to receive it. I beg, therefore, you 
 
 *June 22<I. 
 
 19 
 
146 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 will be so good as to inform me at what hour I can have the plea* 
 sure of seeing you. 
 
 Your most obedient and 
 
 very humble servant, 
 
 W. P. VAN NESS. 
 Nath'l. Pendleton, Esq. 
 June 26th. 
 
 26th June 1 804. 
 
 Sir — I have communicated the letter which you did me the 
 honor to write to me of this date, to Gen. Hamilton. The ex- 
 pectations now disclosed on the part of Col. Burr, appear to 
 him to have greatly extended the original ground of inquiry, 
 and instead of presenting a particular and definite case of ex- 
 planation, seemed to aim at nothing less than an inquisition into 
 his most confidential conversations, as well as others, through 
 the whole period of his acquaintance with Col. Burr. 
 
 While he was prepared to meet the particular case fairly and 
 fully, he thinks it inadmissible that he should be expected to 
 answer at large as to every thing that he may possibly have 
 said, in relation to the character of Col. Burr, at any time or 
 upon any occasion. Though he is not conscious that any char- 
 ges which are in circulation to the prejudice of Col. Burr, have 
 originated with him, except one which may have been so con- 
 sidered, and which has long since been fully explained between 
 Col. Burr and himself — yet he cannot consent to be questioned 
 generally as to any rumours which may be afloat derogatory to 
 the character of Col. Burr, without specification of the several 
 rumours, many of them probably unknown to him. He does 
 not, however, mean to authorize any conclusion as to the real 
 nature of his conduct in relation to Col. Burr, by his declining 
 so loose and vague a basis of explanation, and he disavows an 
 unwillingness to come to a satisfactory, provided it be an hon- 
 orable accommodation. His objection is, the very indefinite, 
 ground which Colonel Burr has assumed, in which he is sorry to 
 be able to discern nothing short of predetermined hostility. 
 Presuming, therefore, that it will be adhered to, he has instruc- 
 ted we to receive the message which you have it in charge to 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 147 
 
 deliver. For this purpose I shall be at home, and at your com- 
 mand, to-morrow morning, from eight to ten o'clock. 
 I have the honor to be respectfully, 
 
 your obedient servant, 
 
 NATH'L. PENDLETON. 
 
 Wm. P. Van Ness, Esq. 
 
 Sir — The letter which I had the honor to receive from you 
 under date of yesterday, states, among other things, that in Gen. 
 Hamilton's opinion, Col. Burr has taken a very indefinite ground, 
 in which he evinces nothing short of predetermined hostility, 
 and that Gen. Hamilton thinks it inadmissible that the inquiry 
 should extend to his confidential as well as other conversations. 
 In this Colonel Burr can only reply, that secret whispers tradu- 
 cing his fame, and impeaching his honor, are, at least, equally 
 injurious with slanders publicly uttered; that Gen. Hamilton 
 had, at no time, and in no place, a right to use any such injuri- 
 ous expressions; and that the partial negative he is disposed to 
 give, with the reservations he wishes to make, are proofs that he 
 has done the injury specified. 
 
 Col. Burr's request was, in the first instance, proposed in a 
 form the most simple, in order that Gen. Hamilton might give to 
 the affair that course to which he might be induced by his tem- 
 per, and his knowledge of facts. Col. Burr trusted with confi- 
 dence, that from the frankness of a soldier and the candor of a 
 gentleman, he might expect an ingenuous declaration. That if, 
 as he had reason to believe, Gen. Hamilton had used expressions 
 derogatory to his honor, he would have had the magnanimity to 
 retract them; and that if, from his language, injurious inferen- 
 ces had been improperly drawn, he would have perceived the 
 propriety of correcting errors, which might thus have been 
 widely diffused. With these impressions, Col. Burr was greatly 
 surprised at receiving a letter which he considered as evasive, 
 and which in manner he deemed not altogether decorous. In 
 one expectation, however, he was not wholly deceived, for the 
 close of General Hamilton's letter contained an intimation that 
 if Col. Burr should dislike his refusal to acknowledge or deny 
 he was ready to meet the consequences. This Col. Burr deem- 
 
146 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 ed a port of defiance, and would have felt justified in making it 
 the basis of an immediate message. But as the communication 
 contained something concerning the indefiniteness of the re- 
 quest; as he believed it rather the offspring of false pride than 
 of reflection, and as he felt the utmost reluctance to proceed to 
 extremities, while any other hope remained, his request was re- 
 peated in terms more explicit. The replies and propositions 
 on the part of Gen. Hamilton have, in Col. Burr's opinion, 
 been constantly in substance the same. 
 
 Colonel Burr disavows all motives of predetermined hostility, 
 a charge by which he thinks insult added to injury. He feels 
 as a gentleman should feel when his honor is impeached or as- 
 sailed; and without sensations of hostility or wishes of revenge, 
 he is determined to vindicate that honor at such hazard as the 
 nature of the case demands. 
 
 The length to which this correspondence has extended, only 
 tending to prove that the satisfactory redress, earnestly desired, 
 cannot be obtained, he deems it useless to offer any proposition 
 except the simple message which I shall now have the honor to 
 deliver. 
 
 I have the honor to be, 
 
 with great respect, your very humble serv't. 
 
 W. P. VAN NESS. 
 Wednesday Morning, June Zlth, 1804. 
 
 With this letter a message was received such as was to be ex- 
 pected, containing an invitation, which was accepted, and Mr. 
 Pendleton informed Mr. Van Ness he should hear from him the 
 next day as to further particulars. 
 
 This letter was delivered to Gen. Hamilton on the same eve- 
 ning, and a very short conversation ensued between him and Mr. 
 Pendleton, who was to call on him early the next morning for a 
 further conference. — When he did so, Gen. Hamilton said he 
 had hot understood whether the message and answer was defin- 
 itely concluded, or whether another meeting was to take place 
 for that purpose between Mr. Pendleton and Mr. Van Ness. 
 Under the latter impression, and as the last letter contained 
 matter that naturally led to animadversion, he gave Mr. Pendle- 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 140 
 
 ton a paper of remarks in his own handwriting, to be commu- 
 nicated to Mr. Van Ness, if the state of the affair rendered it 
 proper. 
 
 In the interview with Mr. Van Ness on the same day, after 
 explaining the causes which had induced Gen. Hamilton to sup- 
 pose that the state of the affair did not render it improper, Mr. 
 Pendleton offered this paper to Mr. Van Ness, but he declined 
 receiving it, alleging that he considered the correspondence as 
 closed by the acceptance of the message that he had delivered. 
 
 Mr. Pendleton then informed Mr. Van Ness of the induce- 
 ments mentioned by General Hamilton in the paper, for at least 
 postponing the meeting until the close of the Circuit; and as 
 this was uncertain, Mr. Pendleton was to let him know when it 
 would be convenient. 
 
 Here we think it most proper to introduce the paper itself. 
 The reader will form his own judgment whether it was not Mr. 
 Van Ness' duty to have received it, and shown it to his princi- 
 pal; he will probably exercise his own conjecture too as to Mr. 
 Van Ness' motives for not doing so. It follows: — 
 
 Remarks on the letter of June 27, 1 804. 
 " Whether the observations on this letter are designed merely 
 to justify the result which is indicated in the close of the letter, 
 or may be intended to give an opening for rendering any thing 
 explicit which may have been deemed vague heretofore, can 
 only be judged of by the sequel. At any rate, it appears to me 
 necessary not to be misunderstood. Mr. Pendleton is therefore 
 authorized to say, that in the course of the present discussion, 
 written or verbal, there has been no intention to evade, defy, or 
 insult, but a sincere disposition to avoid extremities if it could 
 be done with propriety. With this view, Gen. Hamilton has 
 been ready to enter into a frank and free explanation on any 
 and every object of a specific nature; but not to answer a gene- 
 ral and abstract inquiry, embracing a period too long for any 
 accurate recollection, and exposing him to unpleasant criticism^ 
 from, or unpleasant discussions with, any and every person, who 
 may have understood him in an unfavorable sense. This (ad- 
 
150 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 mitting that he could answer it in a manner the most satisfac- 
 tory to Col. Burr) he should deem inadmissible, in principle and* 
 precedent, and humiliating in practice. To this therefore he 
 can never submit. Frequent allusion has been made to slan- 
 ders, said to be in circulation. — Whether they are openly or in 
 whispers, they have a form and shape, and might be specified. 
 
 " If the alternative alluded to in the close of the letter is de- 
 finitively tendered, it must be accepted; the time, place, and 
 manner, to be afterwards regulated. I should not think it right 
 in the midst of a Circuit Court to withdraw my services from 
 those who may have confided important interests to me, and ex- 
 pose them to the embarrassment of seeking other counsel, who 
 may not have time to be sufficiently instructed in their causes. 
 I shall also want a little time to make some arrangements res- 
 pecting my own affairs." 
 
 On Friday, the 6th of July, the circuit being closed, Mr. Pen- 
 dleton informed Mr. Van Ness that General Hamilton would be 
 ready at any time after the Sunday following. On Monday the 
 particulars were arranged — on Wednesday the parties met at 
 Weahawk, on the Jersey shore, at 7 o'clock, A. M. The par- 
 ticulars of what then took place will appear from the following 
 statement. 
 
 It was nearly seven in the morning when the boat which car- 
 ried General Hamilton, his friend Mr. Pendleton, and the sur- 
 geon mutually agreed on, Doctor Hosack, reached that part of 
 the Jersey shore called the Weahawk. There they found Mr. 
 Burr and his friend Mr. Van Ness, who, as I am told, had been 
 employed since their arrival, with coats off, in clearing away the 
 bushes, limbs of trees, &c. so as to make a fair opening. The 
 parties in a few moments were at their allotted situation: when 
 Mr. Pendleton gave the word, Mr. Burr raised his arm slowly, 
 deliberately took his aim, and fired. His ball entered General 
 Hamilton's right side: as soon as the bullet struck him, he raised 
 himself involuntarily on his toes, turned a little to the left (at 
 which moment his pistol went off.) and fell upon his face. Mr. 
 Pendleton immediately called out for Dr. Hosack, who, in run- 
 ning to the spot, had to pass Mr. Van Ness and Col. Burr; but 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 151 
 
 Mr. Van Ness had the cool precaution to cover his principal with 
 an umbrella, so that Dr. Hosack should not be able to swear 
 that he saw him on the field. What passed after this, the rea- 
 der will have in the following letter from Dr. Hosack himself. 
 
 August 17 th, 1804. 
 
 ** Dear Sir — To comply with jour request is a painful task; 
 but I will repress my feelings while I endeavor to furnish you 
 with an enumeration of such particulars relative to the melan- 
 choly end of our beloved friend Hamilton, as dwell most forcibly 
 on my recollection. 
 
 " When called to him, upon his receiving the fatal wound, 
 I found him half sitting on the ground, supported in the 
 arms of Mr. Pendleton. His countenance of death I shall ne- 
 ver forget — He had at that instant just strength to say, "This 
 is a mortal wound, Doctor;" when he sunk away, and became 
 to all appearance lifeless. I immediately stripped up his 
 clothes, and soon, alas! ascertained that the direction of the 
 ball must have been through some vital part. His pulses were 
 not to be felt; his respiration was entirely suspended ; and upon 
 laying my hand on his heart and perceiving no motion there. 
 I considered him as irrecoverably gone. I however observed to 
 Mr. Pendleton, that the only chance for his reviving was imme- 
 diately to get him upon the water. We therefore lifted him 
 up, and carried him out of the wood, to the margin of the bank, 
 where the bargeman aided us in conveying him into the boat, 
 which immediately put off. During all this time I could not 
 discover the least symptom of returning life. I now rubbed 
 his face, lips, and temples, with spirits of hartshorn, applied it 
 to his neck and breast, and to the wrists and palms of his hands, 
 and endeavored to pour some into his mouth. When we had 
 got, as I should judge, about fifty yards from the shore, some 
 imperfect efforts to breathe were for the first time manifest; in 
 a few minutes he sighed, and became sensible to the impression 
 of the hartshorn, or the fresh air of the water: he breathed: his 
 eyes, hardly opened, wandered, without fixing upon any objects: 
 to our great joy he at length spoke: "My vision is indistinct," 
 
iM ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 
 
 were his first words. His pulse became more perceptible: his 
 respiration more regular; his sight returned. I then examined 
 the wound to know if there was any dangerous discharge of 
 blood : upon slightly pressing his side it gave him pain ; on which 
 I desisted. Soon after recovering his sight, he happened to 
 cast his eyes upon the case of pistols, and observing the one that 
 he had had in his hand lying on the outside, he said," Take care 
 of that pistol; it is undischarged and still cocked, it may gooff 
 and do harm: — Pendleton knows, (attempting to turn his head 
 towards him) that I did not intend to (ire at him." " Yes," said 
 Mr. Pendleton, understanding his wish, "I have already made 
 Dr. Hosack acquainted with your determination as to that." 
 He then closed his eyes and remained calm, without any dispo- 
 sition to speak; nor did he say much afterward, excepting in re- 
 ply to my questions as to his feelings. He asked me once or 
 twice how I found his pulse; and he informed me that his lower 
 extremities had lost all feeling; manifesting to me that he enter- 
 tained no hopes that he should long survive. I changed the pos- 
 ture of his limbs, but to no purpose; they had totally lost their 
 sensibility. Perceiving that we approached the shore, he said. 
 "Let Mrs. Hamilton be immediately sent for — let the event be 
 gradually broken to her; but give her hopes." Looking up we 
 saw his friend Mr. Bayard standing on the wharf in great agita- 
 tion. He had been told by his servant that Gen. Hamilton, Mr. 
 Pendleton, and myself, had crossed the river in a boat together, 
 and loo well he conjectured the fatal errand and foreboded the 
 dreadful result. Perceiving, as we came nearer, that Mr. Pen- 
 dleton and myself only sat in the stern-sheet, he clasped his 
 hands together in the most violent apprehensions; but when I 
 called to him to have a cot prepared, and he at the same time 
 saw his poor friend lying in the bottom of the boat, lie threw up 
 his eyes and burst into a flood of tears and lamentation. Ham 
 ilton alone appeared tranquil and composed. We then conveyed 
 "him as tenderly as possible up to the house. The distresses of 
 this amiable family were such that till the first shock was abated, 
 they were scarcely able to summon fortitude enough to yield 
 Sufficient assistance to their dying friend. 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 153 
 
 "Upon our reaching the house he became more languid, oc- 
 casioned probably by the agitation of his removal from the 
 boat. I gave him a little weak wine and water. When here- 
 covered his feelings, he complained of pain in his back; we im- 
 mediately undressed him, laid him in bed, and darkened the 
 room. I then gave him a large anodyne, which I frequently re- 
 peated. During the first day he took upwards of an ounce of 
 laudanum; and tepid anodyne fomentations were also applied 
 to those parts nearest the seat of his pain — Yet were his suffer- 
 ings, during the whole of the day, almost intolerable.* 
 
 I had not the shadow of a hope of his recovery, and Dr. Post, 
 whom I requested might be sent for immediately on our reach- 
 ing Mr. Bayard's house, united with me in this opinion. Gen. 
 Hey, the French Consul, also had the goodness to invite the sur- 
 geons of the French frigates in our harbor, as they had had 
 much experience in gun-shot wounds, to render their assistance. 
 They immediately came; but to prevent his being disturbed, I 
 stated to them his situation, described the nature of his wound 
 and the direction of the ball, with all the symptoms that could 
 enable them to form an opinion as to the event. One of the 
 gentlemen then accompanied me to the bed-side. The result 
 was a confirmation of the opinion that had already been express- 
 ed by Dr. Post and myself. 
 
 During the night he had some imperfect sleep; but the sue- 
 ceeding morning his symptoms were aggravated, attended how- 
 ever, with a diminution of pain. His mind retained all its 
 usual strength and composure. The great source of his anxi- 
 ety seemed to be in his sympathy with his half distracted wife 
 and children. He spoke to me frequently of thena — " My be- 
 loved wife and children," were always his expressions. But his 
 fortitude triumphed over his situation, dreadful as it was; once, 
 indeed, at the sight of his children brought to the bed-side to- 
 gether, seven in number, his utterance forsook him; he opened 
 his eyes, gave them one look, and closed them again, till they 
 
 * As his habit was delicate, and had been lately rendered more feeble by ill 
 -health, particularly by a disorder of the stomach and bowels, I carefully a\oid~ 
 *>d all those remedies which are usually indicated on such occasions 
 
 20 
 
154 ALEXANDER HAMILTON^ 
 
 were taken away. As a proof of his extraordinary composure 
 of mind, let me add, that he alone could calm the frantic grief 
 of their mother. " Remember, my Eliza, you are a Christian" 
 were the expressions with which he frequently, with a firm voice, 
 but in a pathetic and impressive manner, addressed her. His 
 words, and the tone in which they were uttered, will never be 
 effaced from my memory. At about two o'clock, as the publir 
 well know, he expired.* 
 
 " Incorrupta fides — nudaque Veritas 
 Quondo ullum invenient pareni? 
 MultusHle quidem debilis occidit." 
 
 Who would believe, had not the fact evinced it, that the sor. 
 of the venerable President Burr, that model of Christian pa-, 
 tience, charity and meekness; that the son of such a man, the 
 second officer in the United States, should in direct violation of 
 the laws of Heaven, and his own state; after every means of 
 reconciliation on the part of the unfortunate deceased, that was 
 consistent with honor, had been exhausted, should take a cool 
 and deliberate aim against the first citizen of our country ; the 
 father of a numerous family; the husband of a most affectionate 
 wife; an ornament to his country and human nature. Could 
 nothing but his blood atone for expressions honestly intended for 
 the public good, and authorized by every just principle of an 
 elective government? Could nothing allay the cool, perseve- 
 ring, and premeditated resentment of his antagonist, but the 
 heart's blood of such a man? 
 
 Well, he is gone! Gone with the tenderest esteem, the high- 
 est respect, the most affectionate tears that ever fell on the tomb 
 of a public character. He has gone to receive the rich reward 
 of the many and great exertions for his country's welfare. 
 Trusting in the merits of his Saviour, penitent for his past sins, 
 forgiving even the foe from whom he received his mortal wound; 
 he is gone to receire that recompense of reward, which is the 
 meed of the truly upright and benevolent. 
 
 Far be it from us, at this time, to excite the angry passions 
 against the guilty author of this mighty ruin. He lives, and 
 long may he live, his hands stained with blood unrighteously 
 
 ♦Extracts from Facts and Documents relative to the death of Gen. Hamilton 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON- 155 
 
 shed! But we cannot refrain from giving a place to the follow- 
 ing circumstances, which occurred in the city of Albany soon 
 after the death of Hamilton. 
 
 "On Sunday morning the afflicted Mrs. Hamilton attended 
 service in the Presbyterian Church in this city, with her three- 
 little ones. 
 
 At the close of a prayer by the Rev. Mr. Nott, the eldest 
 dropped on his face, in a fainting fit. 
 
 "Two gentlemen immediately raised him, and while bearing 
 him out of Church, the afflicted mother sprung forward, in th& 
 agonies of grief and despair, towards her apparently lifeless 
 son. 
 
 "The heart-rending scene she had recently struggled with, 
 called forth all the fine spun sensibilities of her nature; and 
 seemed to say nature must, and will be indulged, in her keenest 
 sorrows. She was overpowered in the conflict, and likewise 
 sunk, uttering such heart-rending groans, and inward sighs, *as 
 would have melted into mingled sympathies, even Burr himself. 
 
 "Both of them stood recovered; and while the little son was 
 supported standing on the steps, yet speechless, the most affect- 
 ing scene presented itself. The mother in this tender situation, 
 fastened herself upon the son, with her head reclining on his left 
 shoulder; the agonies so strongly painted in her countenance; 
 her long flowing weeds; the majesty of her person; the position 
 of both; and above all, the peculiarity of their trying situation 
 in the recent loss of a husband and a father; who could refrain 
 from invoking on the head of the guilty author of their miseries, 
 those curses he so richly merits? The curse of living despised, 
 and execrated by the voice of a whole nation; the curse of 
 being held up to the view of future ages, a monster and an 
 
 ASSASSIN." 
 
 After the death of Gen. Hamilton, a note which had beerr 
 written the evening before the interview, was found, addressed 
 to the gentleman who accompanied him to the field; thanking 
 him with tenderness for his friendship to him, and informing him 
 where would be found the keys of certain drawers in his desk, 
 in which he had deposited such papers as he had thought prop- 
 er to leave behind him, together with his last Wil|. 
 
156 ALEXANDER HAMILTON 
 
 The following paper, as containing his motives for accepting 
 the challenge; his reflections on his situation; and some re- 
 marks on the conduct of the man, who was to be the cause of 
 his death, is presented as a highly interesting document. 
 
 On my expected interview with Col. Burr, I think it proper 
 to make some remarks explanatory of my conduct, motives, and 
 views, 
 
 I was certainly desirous of avoiding this interview for the 
 most cogent reasons. 
 
 1. My religious and moral principles are strongly opposed 
 to the practice of duelling, and it would ever give me pain to 
 be obliged to shed the blood of a fellow-creature in a private 
 combat forbidden by the laws. 
 
 2. My wife and children are extremely dear to me, and my 
 life is of the utmost importance to them in various views. 
 
 3. I feel a sense of obligation towards my creditors; who in 
 case of accident to me, by the forced sale of my property, may 
 be in some degree sufferers. I did not think m} self at liberty 
 as a man of probity, lightly to expose them to this hazard. 
 
 4. I am conscious of no ill will to Col. Burr, distinct from 
 political opposition, which, as I trust, has proceeded from pure 
 and upright motives. 
 
 Lastly, I shall hazard much, and can possibly gain nothing by 
 the issue of the interview. 
 
 But it was, as I conceive impossible for me to avoid it. There 
 were intrinsic difficulties in the thing, and artificial embarrass- 
 ments from the manner of proceeding on the part of Colonel 
 Burr. 
 
 Intrinsic, because it is not to be denied, that my animadver- 
 sions on the political principles, character, and views of Colonel 
 Burr, have been extremely severe; and on different occasions, 
 I, in common with many others, have made very unfavorable 
 criticisms on particular instances of the private conduct of this 
 gentleman. 
 
 In proportion as these impressions were entertained wi$h sin- 
 cerity, and uttered with motives, and for purposes which might 
 
ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 157 
 
 appear to me commendable, would be the difficulty, (until they 
 could be removed by evidence of their being erroneous,) of ex- 
 planation or apology. The disavowal required of me by Col. 
 Burr, in a general and indefinite form, was out of my power, if 
 it had been really proper for me to submit to be so questioned j 
 but I was sincerely of opinion that this could not be, and in this 
 opinion I was confirmed by that of a very moderate and judi- 
 cious friend whom I consulted. Besides that, Col. Burr ap- 
 peared to me to assume, in the first instance, a tone unnecessa} 
 rily peremptory and menacing, and in the second, positively 
 offensive. Yet I wished, as far as might be practicable, to leave 
 a door open to accommodation. This, I think, will be inferred 
 from the written communications made by me and by my direc- 
 tion, and would be confirmed by the conversations between Mr. 
 Van Ness and myself, which arose out of the subject. 
 
 I am not sure whether, under all the circumstances, I did not 
 go further in the attempt to accommodate, than a punctilious 
 delicacy will justify. If so, I hope the motives I have stated 
 will excuse me. 
 
 It is not my design, by what I have said, to affix any odium on 
 the conduct of Col. Burr, in this case. He doubtless has heard 
 of animadversions of mine which bore very hard upon him; and 
 it is probable that as usual they were accompanied with some 
 falsehoods. He may have supposed himself under a necessity 
 of acting as he has done. I hope the grounds of his proceed- 
 ing have been such as ought to satisfy his own conscience. 
 
 I trust at the same time, that the world will do me the justice 
 to believe that I have not censured him on light grounds, nor 
 from unworthy inducements. I certainly have had strong rea- 
 sons for what I may have said, though it is possible that in some 
 particulars, I may have been influenced by misconstruction or 
 misinformation. It is also my ardent wish that I may have been 
 more mistaken than I think I have been, and that he, by his fu- 
 ture conduct, may show himself worthy of all confidence and 
 esteem, and prove an ornament and blessing to the country. 
 
 As well because it is possible that I may have injured Colonel 
 Burr, however convinced myself that my opinions and declara- 
 
IdB ISAAC HAYNE. 
 
 tions have heen well founded, as from my general principles and* 
 temper in relation to similar affairs, I have resolved, if our inter- 
 view is conducted in the usual manner, and it pleases God to 
 give me the opportunity, to reserve and throzo corny my first fire, 
 and I have thoughts even of reserving my second fire — and thus 
 giving a double opportunity to Colonel Burr, to pause and to 
 reflect. 
 
 It is not, however, my intention to enter into any explanation 
 on the ground — Apology from principle, I hope, rather than 
 pride, is out of the question. 
 
 To those who, with me, abhorring the practice of duelling, 
 may think that I ought on no account to have added to the num- 
 ber 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 inseparable from a confor- 
 mity with public prejudice in this particular."* A. H. 
 
 ISAAC HAYNE, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 " This gentleman had been a distinguished and very active 
 officer in the American service, previous to the subjugation of 
 Charleston. When this event took place, he found himself cal- 
 led to a separation from his family, a dereliction of his property, 
 and submission to the conqueror. In this situation he thought 
 it his duty to become a voluntary prisoner, and take his parole. 
 On surrendering himself, he offered to engage and stand bound 
 on the principles of honor, to do nothing prejudicial to the Bri- 
 tish interest until he was exchanged ; but his abilities and servi- 
 
 — — — — — ■ ~ — ■ --~~ — T 
 
 * Vide Facts and Documents relative to Gen. Hamilton, 
 
ISAAC HAYNE. 150 
 
 ces were of such consideration to his country, that he was refu- 
 sed a parole, and told he must become a British subject or submit 
 to close confinement. 
 
 " His family was then in a distant part of the country, and in 
 great distress by sickness, and from the ravages of the royalists 
 in their neighborhood. Thus he seemed impelled to acknowL 
 edge himself the subject of a government he had relinquished 
 from the purest principles, or renounce his tenderest connexions 
 and leave them without a possibility of his assistance, and at a 
 moment when he hourly expected to hear of the death of an 
 affectionate wife, ill of the small-pox. 
 
 In this state of anxiety, he subscribed a declaration of his 
 allegiance to the king of Great Britain, with this express excep- 
 tion, that he should never be required to take arms against hi» 
 country. Notwithstanding this, he was soon and repeatedly cal- 
 led upon to arm in support of - a govermenl he detested, or to 
 submit to the severest punishment. Brigadier General Patter- 
 son, commandant of the garrison, and the intendant of the Bri- 
 tish police, a Mr. Simpson, had both assured Colonel Hayne, 
 that no such thing would be required; and added, "that when 
 the royal army could not defend a country without the aid of its 
 inhabitants, it would be time to quit it."* 
 
 Colonel Hayne considered a requisition to act in British ser- 
 vice, after assurances that this would never be required, as a 
 breach of contract, and a release in the eye of conscience, from 
 any obligation on his part. Accordingly he took the first oppor- 
 tnnity of resuming his arms as an American, assumed the com- 
 mand of his own regiment; and all fond of their former comman- 
 der, Colonel Hayne marched with a defensible body to the relief 
 of his countrymen, then endeavoring to drive the British parti- 
 zans, and keep them within the environs of Charleston. He 
 very unfortunately in a short time fell into the hands of a strong 
 British party, sent out for the recovery of a favorite officer,! who 
 
 *See a representation of Colonel Hayne's case, laid before Congress after his 
 death. 
 
 t This was General Williamson, captured within seven miles of the city, by 
 t* small reconnoit-ering party sent out by Col. Iiayae, 
 
1G0 ISAAC HAYNE. 
 
 had left the American cause, and become a devotee to British 
 government. 
 
 As soon as Colonel Hayne was captured, he was closely im- 
 prisoned. This was on the twenty-sixth of July. He was 
 notified the same day, that a court of officers would assemble 
 the next day, to determine in what point of view he ought to be 
 considered. On the twenty-ninth he was informed that in con- 
 sequence of a court of inquiry held the day before, Lord Raw- 
 don and Lieutenant Colonel Balfour had resolved upon his 
 execution within two days. 
 
 His astonishment at these summary and illegal proceedings 
 can scarcely be conceived. He wrote Lord Rawdon, that he 
 had no intimation of any thing more than a court of inquiry, to 
 determine whether he should be considered as an American or a 
 British subject: if the first, he ought to be set at liberty on pa- 
 role: if the last, he claimed a legal trial. He assured his lord- 
 ship, that on a trial he had many things to urge in his defence; 
 reasons that would be weighty in a court of equity; and conclu- 
 ded his letter with observing, — "If, sir, I am refused this favor, 
 which I cannot conceive from your justice or humanity, I ear- 
 nestly entreat that my execution may be deferred; that I may at 
 least take a last farewell of my children, and prepare for the 
 solemn change."* 
 
 But his death predetermined, his enemies were deaf to the 
 voice of compassion. The execution of his sentence was has- 
 tened, though the reputation and merits of this gentleman were 
 such, that the whole city was zealous for his preservation. Not 
 only the inhabitants in opposition to the British government, but 
 even Lieutenant Governor Bull at the head of the royalists, in- 
 terceded for his life. The principal ladies of Charleston endea- 
 vored, by their compassionate interference, to arrest or influence 
 the relentless hand of power. They drew up and presented to 
 Lord Rawdon, a delicate and pathetic petition in his behalf. 
 His near relations, and his children, who had just performed the 
 
 * See a more full account of the treatment of Col. Hayne in his own papers, 
 afterwards pesented to Congress. 
 
WILLIAM HEATH. 16 1 
 
 funeral rites over the grave of a tender mother, appeared on 
 their bended knees, to implore the life of their father. But in 
 spite of the supplications of children and friends, strangers and 
 foes, the flinty heart of lord Raw-don remained untouched, amidst 
 these scenes of sensibility and distress. No amelioration of the 
 sentence could be obtained ; and this affectionate father took a 
 final leave of his children in a manner that pierced the souls of 
 the beholders. To the eldest of them, a youth of but thirteen 
 years of age, he delivered a transcript of his case, directed him 
 to convey it to Congress, and ordered him to see that his fathers 
 remains were deposited in the tomb of his ancestors. 
 
 Pinioned like a criminal, this worthy citizen walked with 
 composure through crowds of admiring spectators, with the 
 dignity of the philosopher, and the intrepidity of the Christian. 
 He suffered as a hero, and was hanged as a felon, amidst the 
 tears of the multitude, and the curses of thousands, who exe- 
 .-mted the perpetrators of this cruel deed.* 
 
 WILLIAM HEATH, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 General Heath descended from an ancient family, and was 
 of the fifth generation of the family, who have inherited the 
 same real estate taken up in a state of nature. He was born 
 in the year 1737, in Roxbury, Mass. and was from his youth a 
 cultivator of the soil, of which profession he was passionately 
 fond. 
 
 From his childhood he was remarkably fond of military exer- 
 cises, which passion grew up with him, and as he arrived at years 
 of maturity, led him to procure, and attentively study every 
 military treatise in the English language, which he could 
 procure. 
 
 As the dispute between Great Britain and her American colo- 
 
 * Warren's Revolution 
 21 
 
162 WILLIAM HEATH 
 
 nics assumed a serious aspect, Heath did not hesitate, for a mo< 
 ment to declare his sentiments in favor of the rights and liber- 
 ties of his fellow countrymen. So early as the year 1770, he 
 commenced addresses to the public, under the signature of " A 
 Military Countrymayx" in which he urged the importance of mi- 
 litary discipline, and skill in the use of arms, as the only means, 
 under hearen, that could save the country, and he assiduously 
 applied himself in organising and disciplining the companies ol 
 militia and minute-men. 
 
 Being ranked among the patriots and advocates for liberty, 
 he was commissioned in 1775, by the Provincial Congress, as a 
 brigadier-general, and in 1776, he received a commission from 
 Congress, appointing him a major-general in the army of the 
 United States. 
 
 Though high in rank, and respectable as an officer of parade 
 and discipline, we look in vain for laurels acquired in the field. 
 Had it been his destiny, however, to encounter the perils of a 
 conflict in the field of battle, no one can say how valorously he 
 would have acted the hero. 
 
 During the years 1777 and 1778, he was the commanding 
 officer of the eastern department, with his head-quarters at 
 Boston. Here devolved upon him the arduous and difficult 
 duties of superintcndant of the convention troops captured with 
 Burgoyne at Saratoga, and now quartered at Cambridge. The 
 station required the exercise of uncommon firmness and deci- 
 sion of character. And had Gen. Heath been destitute of 
 these characteristics, he would have been subjected to the gros- 
 sest impositions and indignities, from the haughtiness of the 
 British generals, Burgoyne and Phillips, and the perverse tem- 
 per of their soldiery. He who had vauntingly declared in the 
 British Parliament, that "with five thousand men he would make 
 elbow room from one end of the continent to the other," could 
 ill support himself under the chagrin and mortification of a state 
 of captivity. His lofty spirit frequently broke forth, but Gene- 
 ral Heath soon convinced him that he was neither deficient in 
 spirit, nor ignorant of his duty as a military commander. 
 
 The following circumstances that occurred during the stay of 
 
WILLIAM HEATH. 163 
 
 the British troops at Cambridge, and the letters which pas- 
 sed between the officers at once show the difficulties which 
 arose in the path of duty prescribed to General Heath, and 
 the promptness and vigor with which he met, and surmounted 
 them. 
 
 Soon after the arrival of the British generals at Cambridge, 
 they made an insidious attempt to retain the chief command 
 over their own troops. In a conversation, General Phillips turn- 
 ing to General Heath, observed, "Sir, you well know the dispo- 
 sition of soldiers, and that they will more or less in all armies 
 commit some disorders; suppose you should delegate to Gene 
 ral Burgoyne the power of seeing your orders executed?" 
 
 General Heath promptly replied, "that he knew the disposi- 
 tion of soldiers, and also the necessity of order and discipline; 
 that he was not only willing, but expected that General Bur- 
 goyne, and every other officer would exert themselves to keep 
 order. But as to the exercise of his own command, and en- 
 forcement of his own orders when necessary, that was a juris- 
 diction which General Burgoyne must not expect to exercise 
 while here." 
 
 For two weeks after his arrival in Boston, General Burgoyne 
 had neglected upon trifling excuses to sign his parole in the 
 manner specified in the articles of capitulation. Finding him 
 thus disposed to evade, General Heath addressed him the fol- 
 lowing letter. 
 
 Head-Quarters, Boston, Nov. 23, 1777. 
 
 " Sir — Two weeks have now elapsed since I had fully expec- 
 ted that the officers would have signed their paroles. They 
 have, during this time, been enjoying in a great measure the 
 liberty of the limits intended to be assigned to them, without 
 pledging their honor by parole ; which is not only contrary to 
 the established custom of nations, but contrary to the eleventh 
 article of the Convention. 1 must, therefore, in the most expli- 
 cit terms, insist that the officers who wish and expect to be per- 
 mitted on parole, agreeably to the Convention, do sign it to-mor- 
 row. This is so reasonable, that I expect there will be no 
 further hesitancy; and 1 still assure your Excellency, that no 
 
ib4 
 
 WILLIAM HEATH 
 
 endeavors of mine shall be wanting to fulfil the Convention, and 
 to treat the officers with politeness and generosity. 
 
 I am, &c. 
 (Signed) WM. HEATH. 
 
 To Lieut. Gen. Burgoyxe." 
 
 November 8th, 1777, Congress directed General Heath "to 
 cause to be taken down the name and rank of every commissioned 
 officer, and the name, size, age, and description of every non- 
 commissioned officer and private, and all other persons compri- 
 sed in the convention made between Lieutenant General Bur- 
 goyne and Major General Gates, on the 16th October 1777, and 
 transmit an authentic copy thereof to the board of war, in order 
 that if any officer or soldier, or other person as above mentioned, 
 of the said army, shall hereafter be found in arms against these 
 States, during the present contest, he may be convicted of the 
 offence, and suffer the punishment in such case inflicted by the 
 law of nations." 
 
 Upon the foregoing being communicated to General Bur- 
 goyne, and he called upon to have the said descriptive lists made 
 out accordingly, he wrote our general the following letter: — 
 
 Cambridge, Nov. 20, 1777. 
 
 " Sir — I received a paper, dated Head-Quarters, Boston Nov. 
 20th, purporting to be founded upon express orders from the 
 Honorable Continental Congress, which paper I return as inad- 
 missible, because extending to matters in which the Congress 
 have no right of interference. 
 
 " A list of the names and rank of every commissioned officer, 
 and the numbers of the non-commissioned officers and soldiers, 
 may be necessary to you, Sir, for the purpose of fulfilling the 
 Convention, in quartering officers, and the regular delivery of 
 provisions, fuel, &x. Such lists shall be prepared at your re- 
 quest; but before any other lists can be granted, I must be assu- 
 red of the purposes for which they are intended, and the word 
 order must neither be mentioned nor implied. 
 I have the honor to be, &c. 
 (Signed) J. BURGOYNE, Lt. Gen- 
 
 To Maj. Gen. Heath." 
 
WILLIAM HEATH 165 
 
 To the foregoing, our general wrote an answer as follows? 
 
 Head-Quarters, Boston, Nov. 21, 1777. 
 
 "Sir — Yours of yesterday is before me: and although you 
 might at first imagine that the Honorable Continental Congress 
 have no right of interference in matters of the Convention, yet 
 I conclude, upon further reflection you must be convinced, that 
 as that body are the Representatives of that people who are to 
 reap the advantages or disadvantages of the Convention, and 
 as all continental officers are acting by virtue of their authority, 
 and under their direction, they assuredly have a right of inter- 
 ference, and to give such orders to their officers as they may 
 think proper for the full completion of the Convention, and for 
 the safety and good of the people. 
 
 " I must therefore insist that you furnish me with proper lists 
 of names, and descriptions, for the purposes before mentioned 
 as soon as may be, 
 
 " I shall at all times endeavor to found my orders on the 
 principles of honor, reason, and justice, and not to infringe those 
 delicate principles in others; but my orders for the purposes of 
 order and regularity, must be obeyed by every man and all bo- 
 dies of men placed under my direction; and fully determined 
 I am, that offenders shall not pass with impunity. 
 
 I am, &c. 
 (Signed) W. HEATH. 
 
 Lieut. Gen. Buugoyne.*' 
 
 General Burgoyne had received intimations that a fleet of 
 transports were about to come round for the troops, and that the 
 Juno frigate was to wear a flag for his particular accommoda- 
 tion. This he mentioned to General Heath, and wished to 
 know if the frigate might come up into the harbor. General 
 Heath had no apprehensions of any danger from a frigate en- 
 tering the harbor, but apprehended that some people might 
 think that he was not sufficiently vigilant, in case he allowed it. 
 He therefore told General Burgoyne that the frigate could not 
 come up into the harbbr, and hinted to him the taking one of 
 the most convenient transports in the fleet for the purpose; and 
 
IG(> WILLIAM HEATH. 
 
 he might do as he pleased when he got off. This touched Gen. 
 Burgoyne exceedingly, who wrote a letter to General Heath, in 
 which was the following paragraph. 
 
 "As to your allotment of a "convenient transport" for my 
 passage, if it was from yourself, I am to thank you, Sir, for a 
 sort of insult which the most haughty man of office would he 
 ashamed of, in any other country. However, as I am determi- 
 ned every transaction concerning this Convention shall be noto- 
 rious, and beyond the powers of subterfuge to explain away, I 
 have directed the frigate together with the transports to come 
 round, and it will then be for you, Sir, to prohibit the entry of 
 Boston harbor, to any ships bearing a flag of truce, and de* 
 daring they are sent for the express purpose of conveying to 
 Great Britain any part of the troops o/ the Convention. 
 
 (Signed) J. BURGOYNE. 
 
 Maj. Gen. Heath." 
 
 To which Gen. Heath wrote the following answer: 
 
 Head- Quarters, Boston Jan. 5, 1778. 
 
 "Sir — Your Excellency's favor of yesterday came duly to 
 hand; and I must confess I was not a little surprised at some 
 expressions in it. 
 
 " As by the Convention, transports only are stipulated to re- 
 ceive the troops, I submit to you, Sir, whether a hint (if you 
 were even sure that it came from myself) that you should take 
 a convenient one, rather than introduce a frigate, which is nei- 
 ther expressed or implied in the Convention, merits those epi- 
 thets which you are pleased to bestow on me. 
 
 "I have ever aimed to treat you with politeness; and the 
 plighted faith and honor of my country require me to pay strict 
 attention to the Convention on their part; of course, when 
 transports arrive to receive the troops, they will enter the har- 
 bor; and if you can find by the Convention that a frigate is to 
 enter for the particular reception of yourself, she will not be 
 prohibited. But if it is rather uncommon for ships of war to 
 bear flags of truce, and if consenting to it in the present case, 
 should appear to be rather an act of politeness and generosity 
 
WILLIAM HEATH. 167 
 
 than otherwise, I leave you to your own reflections whether you 
 have made choice of the most happy expressions to obtain it. 
 (Signed) W. HEATH. 
 
 Lieut. Gen. Burgoyne." 
 
 Another serious matter took place about this time. Colonel 
 Henley, who had the immediate command at Cambridge, a 
 brave and good officer, but warm and quick in his natural tem- 
 per, having ordered some prisoners who were under guard turn- 
 ed out that he might examine them, one of them treated him 
 as he judged with much insolence; upon which he pricked him 
 with a sword or bayonet. General Burgoyne immediately pre- 
 sented a complaint against Col. Henley, charging him with bar- 
 barous and wanton conduct, and intentional murder, as appears 
 in the following letter. 
 
 Cambridge, Jan. 9th, 1778. 
 
 Sir — A report has been made to me of a disturbance that 
 happened at the barracks on Wednesday afternoon, for which I 
 am much concerned; and though the provocations from your 
 people, which originally occasioned it, were of the most atro- 
 cious nature, I was willing the offender on our part should be 
 properly punished. But Colonel Henley, not content with that 
 made prisoners of eighteen innocent men, and sent them on 
 board a guard-ship, as alleged by your order. It is not only a 
 duty to my situation to demand the immediate discharge of 
 these men, together with a satisfactory apology; but I also mean 
 it as an attention to you, Sir, that I give you an immediate op- 
 portunity to disavow so unjustifiable a proceeding, as commit- 
 ting men to the worst of prisons upon vague report, caprice and 
 passion. 
 
 1 am, &c. 
 (Signed) J. BURGOYNE. 
 
 To which our general returned the following answer: 
 
 Head-Quarters, Boston, Jan. \Oth, 1778. 
 " Sir — Your's of yesterday's date, I received, last evening. 
 What provocations you allude to, as having been offered by my 
 troops, I am at a loss to determine. The insults and abuses 
 
168 WILLIAM HEATH. 
 
 which they have received, 1 will venture to say, unless I have 
 been most grossly misinformed, are unparalleled ; and whether 
 you are willing or unwilling, Sir, offenders shall no longer pass 
 with impunity. 
 
 " If it can be made to appear that any of thos e soldiers sent 
 to the guard-ship by my orders, are innocent, they shall be re- 
 leased from their confinement; but with respect to such as have 
 been guilty of violating my standing orders of the garrison, in- 
 stead of disavowing or making any apology for the confinement 
 of such, be assured that I do most explicitly avow it. And as I 
 have before observed to your Excellency in a former letter, of 
 which you may be assured, I shall at all times endeavor to found 
 my orders on the principles of honor, reason and justice, and 
 not infringe those delicate principles in others; so also be assu- 
 red, Sir, that such my orders shall be obeyed by every officei 
 and soldier placed under my direction; and such as have the 
 hardiness to transgress them, shall abide the consequences. 
 
 I am, &c. 
 (Signed) W. HEATH. 
 
 June 7th, 1778, a British officer was shot by an American sen 
 tinel, the officer attempting to pass, contrary to the standing 
 orders. The sentinel was immediately relieved and put under 
 guard to await a legal trial. Upon receiving an official account, 
 Gen. Heath immediately informed Major-General Phillips, who 
 was now the senior British officer, Burgoyne having sailed for 
 England, of the circumstance, and of his determination to give 
 the offender a fair trial. 
 
 A few minutes after General Heath had sent his letter, he 
 received the following from Gen. Phillips: — 
 
 Cambridge, June 17. 1778. 
 " Murder and death has at length taken place. An officer, ri- 
 ding out from the barracks on Prospect Hill, has been shot by 
 an American sentinel. I leave the horrors incident to that 
 bloody disposition, which has joined itself to rebellion in these 
 colonies, to the feelings of all Europe. I do not ask for justice, 
 for I believe every principle of it is fled from this province. 
 
 * 
 
WILLIAM HEATH. 169 
 
 '• I demand liberty to send an officer to Sir Henry Clinton, by 
 way of the head-quarters of Gen. Washington, with my report 
 of this murder. 
 
 (Signed) W. PHILLIPS, M. G. 
 
 Maj. Gen. Heath. 1 ' 
 
 The next morning our general wrote the following to Gene* 
 
 ral Phillips: — 
 
 Head-Quarters, Boston, June 18, 1778. 
 
 " Sir — Were it even, certain that the shooting of the officer 
 was an act of the most deliberate and wilful murder, why should 
 you charge these free independent states with a bloody disposi- 
 tion and with rebellion, and this state in particular as void of 
 every principle of justice? Although I ever had, and still have 
 a personal regard for you, and wish in every respect to treat you 
 with the utmost generosity; yet that duty which I owe to the ho- 
 nor and dignity of the United States, will not allow me to pass un- 
 noticed such expressions as are contained in your letter: and I 
 cannot put any other interpretation upon them, than that they 
 are a violent infraction of your parole, most sacredly given. 
 I do conceive it to be my duty, and I do hereby restrict you to 
 the limits of your house, gardens, and yard, and to the direct 
 road from your quarters to the quarters of the troops of the 
 Convention, on Prospect and Winter Hills; expecting from you 
 a parole, for propriety of conduct within those limits; which, 
 if you refuse, I shall be under the necessity of ordering you to 
 narrower limits, until I can obtain the pleasure of the honorable 
 the congress, touching this matter, to whom I shall transmit 
 your letter, and crave their directions. 
 
 I am Sir, your obedient serv't. 
 (Signed) W. HEATH, Maj. Gen. 
 
 Head-Quarters, Boston, June 18, 1778. 
 
 '• Sift. — You will immediately repair to Cambridge, and wait 
 upon Maj. Gen. Phillips: present him the letter, addressed to 
 him. After he has read the letter, present the parole; if he 
 signs it, well; if he refuses, you will please to inform him, that 
 in consequence of the indecent, dishonorable, and highly insulti 
 22 
 
170 WILLIAM HEATH 
 
 ing expressions in his letter of yesterday, against the honor and 
 dignity of the free, sovereign, and independent states of Ame- 
 rica, and in prejudice of the measures and proceedings of the 
 honorable the congress — as it is my duty, so it is my express or- 
 ders, that he, the said Maj. Gen. Phillips, be restricted to the 
 limits of his house, yards and gardens, beyond which he is not to 
 pass, until it be otherwise ordered; and that you immediately 
 plant and continue by relief so many sentries, as may be neces- 
 sary to prevent his exceeding those limits. You will give orders 
 that the sentries, so planted, observe a strict decorum and sol- 
 dier-like behaviour, avoiding insult, and behaving with beco- 
 ming dignity. After which you will wait on the next senior 
 officer, and acquaint him of Gen. Phillips being confined. 
 I am, Sir, yours, &c. 
 (Signed) W. HEATH, Maj. Gen. 
 
 Lieut. Col. Pollard, D. A. G. 
 
 Gen. Phillips continuing to exhibit the same temper, or it 
 rather growing upon him, he was continued in his arrest, until 
 the troops of the convention were ordered to be removed to 
 Charlotteville, in Virginia, when Gen. Heath was relieved alto- 
 gether of his troublesome guests. 
 
 "In June, 1779, Gen. Heath was elected by congress a com- 
 missioner of the Board of War, with a salary of four thousand 
 dollars per annum, and allowed to retain his rank in the army, 
 which he declined, preferring to participate in active operar 
 tions in the field. 
 
 In the summer of 1780, he was directed by the commander-in 
 chief, to repair to Rhode-Island, to make arrangements for the 
 reception of the French fleet and army, which were expected 
 soon to arrive. In his interview with the Count Rocharftbeau, 
 and other officers of the French army and navy, he proffered his 
 friendly civilities, and contributed all in his power to their com- 
 fortable accommodation, which was productive of a mutual 
 and lasting friendship between them. Indefatigable attention 
 to duty, in the various stations assigned him, was a prominent 
 trait in his character. In May, 1781, General Heath was direc- 
 ted by the commander-in-chief to repair to the New-England 
 
 
JOHN EDGAR HOWARD. . 171 
 
 states, to represent to their respective executives the distress- 
 ing condition of our army, and to solicit a speedy supply of pro- 
 visions and clothing, in which he was successful. As senior 
 Major-general, he was more than once commander of the right 
 wing of our army, and during the absence of the commander- 
 in-chief, at the siege of Yorktown, he was entrusted with the 
 command of the main army, posted at the Highlands and vicini- 
 ty, to guard the important works on the Hudson. On the 24th 
 of June, 1 784, hostilities having ceased between the two armies, 
 General Washington addressed a letter to General Heath, ex- 
 pressing his thanks for his meritorious services, and his great af- 
 fection and esteem, and on the same day they took their final 
 leave. 
 
 Such was General Heath's public life. His private one was 
 retired and domestic, amiable, orderly and industrious, but not 
 remarkable for hospitality, or a liberal appropriation of proper- 
 ty to public purposes. He died at Roxbury, January 24, 1814, 
 aged 77 years.* 
 
 JOHN EDGAR HOWARD, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 For gallantry and firmness, decision of character and sound 
 judgment, Colonel Howard was not exceeded by any officer of 
 his rank, in the service of his country. With great intelligence, 
 and skill in arms, he was one of those heroic spirits, on whom 
 General Greene reposed his hopes, during the time he was 
 deepest in adversity, and in his high determination to recover 
 the south, or perish in the attempt. 
 
 He was born June 4th, 1752, near the city of Baltimore. 
 His paternal ancestors were from England, his maternal from 
 Ireland. 
 
 Burning with the generous enthusiasm of the time, Howard 
 was among the first to enrol himself under the standard of Amer- 
 ican liberty. He was first in commission as a captain, and ;if- 
 
 *Thacher's Military Journal. 
 
172 JOHN EDGAR HOWARD. 
 
 terward as major, but he does not appear to have been much in 
 action, until he took his station, at the head of a regiment, in 
 the southern army. 
 
 Accomplished in tactics, and ripe in experience, although 
 only now in his twenty-seventh year, he was, in all respects, fitted 
 for the operations of the field. 
 
 Accordingly, no sooner did an Opportunity for action present 
 itself, than his valor as a soldier, and his reputation as a com- 
 mander, became conspicuous in the midst of the accomplished 
 and the brave. 
 
 His brightest laurel was gathered at the Cowpens, where, as- 
 suming to himself the responsibility of the act, he charged, 
 without orders, and at the point of the bayonet, a party of the 
 enemy superior in number to his own command, and consisting 
 of the flower of the British army.* 
 
 After having thrown the British line into confusion, by his fire 
 and unexpected charge, he called out to them in a loud and 
 commanding voice, to surrender, and they should receive "good 
 quarters." 
 
 On this summons five hundred of them instantly threw down 
 their arms. 
 
 His interview, immediately after the action, with General 
 Morgan, the commanding officer, was eminently interesting; 
 and, were other evidence wanting, shows on how precarious a 
 footing, stands the reputation and the life of a warrior. 
 
 "My dear Howard," said Morgan, cordially pressing his hand 
 as he spoke, "you have given me victory and I love and honor 
 you; but had you filled in your charge, which you risked with- 
 out orders, I should have shot you." 
 
 Previously to this, Colonel Howard had distinguished him- 
 self among those, who, by their gallantry and good conduct, 
 has sustained the character of the American arms, and prevent- 
 ed the utter destruction of the forces, in the battle near Cam- 
 den, where Gates was defeated. 
 
 Nor was he entitled to less applause for the spirit and judg- 
 ment which he afterward displayed at Guilford, Hobkirk's Hill, 
 
 *I4fe of Greene. 
 
Peter horry. 173 
 
 and the Eutaw Springs; at the latter of which, he wa"s severely 
 wounded. 
 
 But a letter from Gen. Greene, dated November 14th, 1781, 
 to a friend in Maryland, is conclusive as to the military reputa- 
 tion of Col. Howard. 
 
 " This will be handed to you, (says the General,) by Colonel 
 Howard, as good an officer as the world affords. He has great 
 ability, and the best disposition, to promote the service. My 
 own obligations to him are great — the public's still more so. 
 He deserves a statue of gold, no less than the Roman and Gre- 
 cian heroes. He has been wounded, Dut has happily recovered, 
 •Snd now goes home, to pay a little attention to his private af- 
 fairs, and to take charge of the fifth Maryland regiment, recruit- 
 ing in your state. 
 
 With great respect, and esteem, 
 
 I am, dear Sir, yours, 
 
 N. GREENE. 
 
 On the conclusion of the war, he married Miss Chew, daugh- 
 ter of the honorable Benjamin Chew, of Philadelphia. 
 
 Contented and happy in domestic life, and much occupied 
 with his private affairs, he has never sought political honors, 
 but left to others to govern the country, which he, by his valor, 
 contributed to set free. 
 
 He still resides on his patrimonial estate, surrounded by a 
 large and respectable family, pre-eminent in affluence, and pass- 
 ing the evening of his life in that dignified and felicitous retire" 
 ment, which a high and unsullied reputation, a peaceful coi> 
 science, a cultivated intellect, and polished manners alone can 
 bestow.' 5 * 
 
 PETER HORRY, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 "This officer was a descendant of one of the many Protest- 
 ant families who removed to Carolina from France, after the re 
 
 *Life of Greepe;, 
 
174 PETER HORK\ 
 
 vocation of the edict of Nantz. He early took up arm3 in de- 
 fence of his country; and through all the trials of peril and pri- 
 vation, experienced hy Marion's brigade, gave ample proof of 
 his strict integrity and undaunted courage. The fame which 
 he acquired as one of the band of heroes who defended the 
 post at Sullivan's Island, was never tarnished. For, although 
 in a moment of despondency, he once said to his general — "I 
 fear our happy days are all gone by;" it was not the consequen- 
 ces that might accrue to himself, but the miseries apprehended 
 for his country that caused the exclamation; for never were his 
 principles shaken; never, even for a moment, did the thought 
 of submission enter his bosom. No man more eagerly sought 
 the foe ; none braved danger with greater intrepidity, or more 
 strenuously endeavored to sustain the military reputation of his 
 country. A ludicrous story is told of him, that, though prob- 
 ably varied in the narration, has its foundation in truth. Col. 
 Horry was once ordered to await the approach of a British de- 
 tachment in ambuscade; a service which he performed with 
 such skill, that he had them completely within his power; when 
 from a dreadful impediment in his speech, by which he was af- 
 flicted, he could not articulate the word u Jire." In vain he 
 made the attempt, it was fi, fi, fi, fi, — but he could get no fur- 
 ther. At length, irritated almost to madness, he exclaimed — 
 " Shoot, damn you, shoot — you know very well what I would say 
 — shoot, shoot, and be damn'd to you ! " He was present in ev- 
 ery engagement of consequence, and on all occasions increased 
 his reputation. At Quinby, Col. Baxter, a gallant soldier, pos- 
 sessed of great coolness, and still greater simplicity of charac- 
 ter, called out — "I am wounded Colonel!" Horry replied — - 
 "Think no more of it, Baxter, but stand to your post." But I 
 can't stand Colonel — 1 am wounded a second time!" Then lie 
 down, Baxter, but quit net your post." "Colonel, (cried the 
 wounded man) they have shot me again, and if I remain any 
 longer here, I shall be shot to pieces." "Be it so, Baxter, but 
 stir not." He obeyed the order, and actually received a fourth 
 wound before the engagement ended.*" 
 
 ■ ■ i. ■ m -'. «i ' I " '■' 
 
 ♦Garden's Anecdotes. 
 
(175) 
 
 JOHN JAMES, 
 
 Major in the American Army. 
 
 •* Was born in Ireland, in 1732, and was the son of an officer 
 who had served King William in his wars in Ireland against 
 King James. This circumstance was the origin oi the name of 
 Williamsburg, which is now attached to one of the districts of 
 Carolina. The elder James, with his family, and several of his 
 neighbors, migrated to that district in 1733, made the first settle- 
 ment there, and in honor of King William gave his name to a vil- 
 lage laid out on the east bank of Black River. The village is now 
 called King's Tree, from a white or short-leafed pine, which in 
 old royal grants was reserved for the use of the king; and the 
 name of Williamsburg has been transferred to the district. 
 To it Major James, when an infant, was brought by his parents. 
 His first recollections were those of a stockade fort, and of war 
 between the new settlers and the natives. The former were 
 often reduced to great straits in procuring the necessaries of 
 life and in defending themselves against the Indians. In this 
 then frontier settlement, Major James, Mr. James Bradley, and 
 other compatriots of the revolution, were trained up to defend 
 and love their country. Their opportunities for acquiring libe- 
 ral educations were slender, but for obtaining religious instruc- 
 tion were very ample. They were brought up under the eye 
 and pastoral care of the Rev. John Rae, a Presbyterian minister 
 who accompanied his congregation in their migration from Ire- 
 land to Carolina. When the revolution commenced, in 1775, 
 Major James had acquired a considerable portion both of reputa- 
 tion and property. He was a captain of militia under George the 
 third. Disapproving of the measures of the British government, 
 he resigned his royal commission, but was soon after reinstated by 
 a popular vote. In the year 1 776, he marched with his company 
 to the defence of Charleston. In the year 1779, he was with 
 Gen. Moultrie on his retreat before Gen. Prevost, and comman- 
 ded 120 riflemen in the skirmish at Tulitinny. When Charles- 
 
17$ JOHN JAMES. 
 
 ton was besieged, in 1780, Major James marched to itsdefence^ 
 but Gov. John Rutledge ordered him back to embody the coun- 
 try militia. The town having fallen, he was employed by his 
 countrymen to wait on the conquerors, and to inquire of them 
 what terms they would give. On finding that nothing short of 
 an unconditional submission and a resumption of the characters 
 and duties of British subjects, would be accepted, he abruptly 
 broke off all negotiation; and, rejoining his friends, formed the 
 stamina of the distinguished corps known in the latter periods 
 of the revolutionary war by the name of Marion's Brigade. In 
 the course of this cruel and desultory warfare, Major James was 
 reduced from easy circumstances to poverty. All his moveable 
 property was carried off, and every house on his plantation 
 burnt; but he bore up under these misfortunes, and devoted, not 
 only all his possessions, but life itself for the good of his coun- 
 try. After Greene, as commander-in-chief, had superseded Ma- 
 rion, Major James continued to serve under the former, and 
 fought with him at the battle of Eutaw. The corps with which 
 he served consisted mostly of riflemen, and were each served 
 with 24 rounds of cartridges. Many of them expended the 
 whole, and most of them 20 of these in firing on the enemy. 
 As they were in the habit of taking aim, their shot seldom fai- 
 led of doing execution. Shortly after this action, Major James 
 and Gen. Marion were both elected members of the state legis* 
 lature. Before the General had rejoined his brigade, it was un- 
 expectedly attacked, and after retreating was pursued by a party 
 of the British commanded by Col. Thompson, now Count Rum- 
 ford. In this retreat, Major James being mounted, was nearly 
 overtaken by two British dragoons, but kept them from cutting 
 him down by a judicious use of his pistols, and escaped by lea- 
 ping a chasm in a bridge of twenty feet width. The dragoons 
 did not follow. The Major being out of their reach, rallied his 
 men, brought them back to the charge, and stopped the progress 
 of the enemy. When the war was nearly over, he resigned his 
 commission, and like another Cincinnatus, returned to his farm 
 and devoted the remainder of his days to the improvement of 
 his property ajid the education of his children In the year 
 
HENRY KNOX. 177 
 
 1791 he died, with the composure and fortittfde of a Christian 
 hero."* 
 
 HENRY KNOX, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 For the biography of this distinguished soldier of the revo- 
 lution, and also for that of Gen. Lincoln, which follows, we are 
 indebted to the highly interesting work of James Thacher, M. 
 D. entitled, ki Military Journal during the American Revolution- 
 ary War," from which we have extracted them. 
 
 "Among those of our countrymen, who most zealously enga- 
 ged in the cause of liberty, few sustained a rank more deser- 
 vedly conspicuous than General Knox. He was one of those 
 heroes, of whom it may be truly said, that he lived for his 
 country. 
 
 Born in Boston, July, 1750, his childhood and youth were 
 employed in obtaining the best education, that the justly cele- 
 brated schools of his native town afforded. In very early life 
 he opened a book-store, for the enlargement of which he soon 
 formed an extensive correspondence in Europe — but little time 
 elapsed before, at the call of his country, he relinquished this 
 lucrative and increasing business. Indebted to no adventitious 
 aid, his character was formed by himself; the native and vigor- 
 ous principles of his own mind made him what he was. Distin- 
 guished among his associates, from the first dawn of manhood, 
 for a decided predilection to martial exercises, he was, at the 
 age of eighteen, selected by the young men of Boston as one 
 of the officers of a company of grenadiers — a company so dis- 
 tinguished for its martial appearance, and the precision of its 
 evolutions, that it received the most flattering encomiums from 
 a British officer of high distinction. 
 
 This early scene of his military labours, served but as a school 
 
 Ramsay's South Caroltrfa 
 
 23 
 
 
 
17JH HENRY KNOX 
 
 for that distinguished talent which afterward shone with lustre, 
 in the most brilliant campaigns of an eight years war; through 
 the whole of which he directed the artillery with consummate 
 skill and bravery. 
 
 His heart was deeply engaged in the cause of freedom; he 
 fdltit to be a righteous cause, and to its accomplishment yield- 
 ed every other consideration. When Britain declared hostili- 
 ties, he hesitated not a moment, what course he should pursue. 
 No sordid calculation of interest retarded his decision. The 
 quiet of domestic life, the fair prospect of increasing wealth, 
 and even the endearing claims of family and friends, though 
 urged with the most persuasive eloquence, had no power to di- 
 vert the determined purpose of his mind. 
 
 In the early stages of British hostility, though not in commis- 
 sion, he was not an inactive spectator. At the battle of Bun- 
 ker-Hill, as a volunteer, he was constantly exposed to danger, 
 in reconnoitering the movements of the enemy, and his ardent 
 mind was engaged with others in preparing those measures that 
 were ultimately to dislodge the British troops, from their boas- 
 ted possession of the capital of New-England. 
 
 Scarcely had we began to feel the aggressions of the British 
 arms, before it was perceived, that without artillery, of which 
 we were then destitute, the most important objects of the war 
 could not be accomplished. No resource presented itself, but 
 the desperate expedient of procuring it from the Canadian fron- 
 tier. To attempt this, in the agitated state of the country, 
 through a wide extent of wilderness, was an enterprise so re- 
 plete with toil and danger, that it was hardly expected any one 
 would be found hardy enough to encounter its perils. Knox, 
 however, saw the importance of the object — he saw his country 
 bleeding at every pore, without the power of repelling her in- 
 vaders — he saw the flourishing Capital of the North in the pos- 
 session of an exulting enemy, that we were destitute of the 
 means essential to their annoyance, and formed the daring and 
 generous resolution of supplying the army with ordnance, how- 
 ever formidable the obstacles that might oppose him. Young, 
 robust, and vigorous, supported by an undaunted spirit, and a 
 
henry knox. M8 
 
 mind ever fruitful in resources, he commenced his mighty un- 
 dertaking, almost unattended, in the winter of 1775, relying 
 solely for the execution of his object, on such aid as he might 
 procure from the thinly scattered inhabitants of the dreary re- 
 gion through which he had to pass. Every obstacle of season 
 roads and climate were surmounted by determined perseve- 
 rance; — and a few weeks, scarcely sufficient for a journey so 
 remote, saw him return laden with ordnance and the stores of 
 war — drawn in defiance of every obstacle over the frozen lakes 
 and mountains of the north. Most acceptable was this offering 
 to our defenceless troops, and most welcome to the comman- 
 der-in-chief, who well knew how to appreciate a service so im- 
 portant. This expedition stamped the character of him who 
 performed it for deeds of enterprise and daring. He received 
 the most flattering testimony of approbation from the comman- 
 der-in-chief and from Congress, and was in consequence of this 
 important service appointed to the command of the artillery, of 
 which he had thus laid the foundation, — in which command he 
 continued with increasing reputation through the revolutionary 
 war. 
 
 Among the incidents that occurred during the expedition to 
 Canada, was his accidental meeting with the unfortunate An- 
 dre, whose subsequent fate was so deeply deplored by every 
 man of feeling in both nations. His deportment as a soldier 
 and gentleman so far interested General Knox in his favor, that 
 he often afterward expressed the most sincere regret, that he 
 was called by duty, to act on the tribunal that pronounced his 
 condemnation. 
 
 During the continuance of the war, the corps of artillery was 
 principally employed with the main body of the army, and near 
 the person of the commander-in-chief, and was relied on as an 
 essential auxiliary in the most important battles. 
 
 Trenton and Princeton witnessed his enterprise and valor. 
 At that critical period of our affairs, when hope had almost 
 yielded to despair, and the great soul of Washington, trembled 
 for his country's freedom, Knox was one of those that strength- 
 ened his hand, and encouraged bis heart. At tfeat awful mo? 
 
180 HENRY KNOX 
 
 ment, when the tempest raged with its greatest fury, he with 
 Greene and other heroes, stood as pillars of the temple of lib- 
 erty, till the fury of the storm was past. 
 
 The letters of General Knox, still extant, written in the dark- 
 est periods of the revolution, breathed a spirit of devotedness to 
 the cause in which he had embarked, and a firm reliance on the 
 favor of Divine Providence; from a perusal of these letters it is 
 evident, that he never yielded to despondency, but in the most 
 critical moments of the war, confidently- anticipated its trium- 
 phant issue. 
 
 In the bloody fields of Germantown and Monmouth, without 
 derogating from the merits of others, it may be said, that during 
 the whole of these hard fought battles, no officer was more dis- 
 tinguished for the discharge of the arduous duties of his com- 
 mand ; — in the front of the battle, he was seen animating his 
 soldiers and pointing the thunder of their cannon. His skill 
 and bravery were so conspicuous on the latter occasion, that he 
 reoeived the particular approbation of the commander-in-chief, 
 in general orders issued by him the day succeeding that of the 
 battle, in which he says, that "the enemy have done them the 
 justice to acknowledge, that no artillery could be better served 
 than ours." But his great exertions on that occasion, together 
 with the extreme heat of the day, produced the most alarming 
 consequences to his health. To these more important scenes, 
 his services were not confined; with a zeal devoted to our cause 
 he was ever at the post of danger — and the immortal hero, who 
 stands first on the list of heroes and of men, has often expressed 
 his sense of these services. In every field of battle, where 
 Washington fought, Knox was by his side. The confidence of 
 the commander-in-chief inspired by early services, was thus 
 matured by succeeding events. There can be no higher testi- 
 mony to his merits, than that during a war of so long continu- 
 ance, passed almost constantly in the presence of Washington, 
 he uniformly retained his confidence and esteem, which at their 
 separation had ripened into friendship and affection. The par- 
 ting interview between General Knox and his illustrious and 
 beloved chief, after the evacuation of New -York by the British^ 
 
HENRY KNOX. 1S1 
 
 and Knox had taken possession of it at the head of a detach- 
 ment of our army, was inexpressibly affecting. Tne hour of 
 their separation having arrived, Washington, incapable of utte- 
 rance, grasped his hand and embraced him in silence, and in 
 tears. His letters to the last moment of his life, contain tire 
 most flattering expressions of his unabated friendship. Honor- 
 able to himself as had been the career of his military services, 
 new laurels were reserved for him at the siege of Yorktown. 
 To the successful result of this memorable siege, the last bril- 
 liant act of our revolutionary contest, no officer contributed 
 more essentially than the commander of the artillery. His 
 animated exertions, his military skill, his cool and determined 
 bravery in this triumphant struggle, received the unanimous 
 approbation of his brethren in arms, and he was immediately 
 created major-general by Congress, at the recommendation of 
 the commander-in-chief, with the concurrence of the whole 
 army. 
 
 The capture of Lord Cornwallis closed the contest, and with 
 it his military life. Having contributed so essentially to the 
 successful termination of the war, he was selected as one of the 
 commissioners to adjust the, terms of peace, which service he 
 performed in conjunction with his colleagues, much to the sat- 
 isfaction of his country. He was deputed to receive the surren- 
 der of the city of New- York, and soon after appointed to the 
 command of West Point. It was here that he was employed in 
 the delicate and arduous duty of disbanding the army, and in- 
 ducing a soldiery, disposed to turbulence by their privations and 
 sufferings, to retire to domestic life, and resume the peaceful 
 character of citizens. 
 
 It is a fact most honorable to his character, that by his coun- 
 tenance and support, he rendered the most essential aid to Wash- 
 ington, in suppressing that spirit of usurpation which had been 
 industriously fomented by a few unprincipled and aspiring men, 
 whose aim was the subjugation of the country to a military gov- 
 ernment. No hope of political elevation — no flattering assu- 
 rances of aggrandizement could tempt him to build his great- 
 ness on the ruin of his country. 
 
182 HENRY KNOX. 
 
 The great objects of Hie war being accomplished, and peace 
 restored to our country, General Knox was early, under the con- 
 federation, appointed secretary of war by Congress, in which 
 office he was confirmed by President Washington, after the es- 
 tablishment of the Federal Government. The duties of this 
 office were ultimately increased, by having those of the navy 
 attached to them — to the establishment of which his counsel 
 and exertion eminently contributed. He differed in opinion 
 from some other members of the cabinet on this most interest- 
 ing subject.* One of the greatest men whom our country has 
 produced, has uniformly declared, that he considered America 
 much indebted to his efforts, for the creation of a power which 
 has already so essentially advanced her respectability and fame. 
 
 Having filled the office of the War Department for eleven 
 years, he obtained the reluctant consent of President Washing- 
 ton to retire, that he might give his attention to the claims of a 
 numerous and increasing family. This retirement was in con- 
 currence with the wishes of Mrs. Knox, who had accompanied 
 him through the trying vicissitudes of war, shared with him its 
 toils and perils, and who was now desirous of enjoying the less 
 busy scenes of domestic life. A portion of the large estates of 
 her ancestor, General Waldo, had descended to her, which he by 
 subsequent purchase increased till it comprised the whole Waldo 
 Patent, an extent of thirty miles square, and embracing a con- 
 siderable part of that section of Maine, which now constitutes 
 Che counties of Lincoln, Hancock, and Penobscot. To these 
 estates he retired from all concern in public life, honored as a 
 soldier and beloved as a man, devoting much of his time to their 
 settlement and improvement. He was induced repeatedly to 
 take a share in the government of the state, both in the house of 
 representatives and in the council, in the discharge of those sev- 
 eral duties, he employed his wisdom and experience with the 
 greatest assiduity. 
 
 In 1798, when the French insults and injuries towards this 
 country called for resistance, he was one of those selected to 
 
 * President Adams, 
 
 k 
 
HENRY KNOX. 183 
 
 Command our armies, and to protect our liberty and honor, from 
 the expected hostilities of the French Directory: happily for our 
 Country their services were not required. 
 
 Retired from the theatre of active life, he still felt a deep in- 
 terest in the prosperity of his country. To that portion of it, 
 which he had chosen for his residence, his exertions were more 
 immediately directed. His views, like his soul, were bold and 
 magnificent, his ardent mind could not want the ordinary course 
 of time and events ; it outstripped the progress of natural im- 
 provement. Had he possessed a cold, calculating mind, he might 
 have left behind him the most ample wealth; but he would not 
 have been more highly valued by his country, or more beloved 
 by his friends. He died at Montpelier, his seat in Thomaston, 
 25th of October, 1 806, from sudden internal inflammation, at 
 the age of 56, from the full vigor of health. 
 
 The great qualities of Gen. Knox were not merely those of 
 the hero and the statesman; with these were combined those of 
 the elegant scholar and the accomplished gentleman. There 
 have been those as brave and as learned, but rarely a union of 
 such valor, with so much urbanity — a mind so great, yet se free 
 from ostentation. 
 
 Philanthropy filled his heart; in his benevolence there was no 
 reserve — it was as diffusive as the globe, and extensive as the 
 family of man. His feelings were strong and exquisitely ten- 
 der. In the domestic circle they shone with peculiar lustre — 
 here, the husband, the father, and the friend, beamed in every 
 smile — and if at any time a cloud overshadowed his own spirit, 
 he strove to prevent its influence from extending to those that 
 were dear to him. He was frank, generous, and sincere, and 
 in his intercourse with the world, uniformly just. His house 
 was the seat of elegant hospitality, and his estimate of wealth, 
 was its power of diffusing happiness. To the testimony of pri- 
 vate friendship, may be added that of less partial strangers, who 
 have borne witness, both to his public and private virtues. 
 Lord Moira, who is now perhaps the greatest general that Eng- 
 land can boast of, has in a late publication spoken in high terms 
 of his military talents. Nor should the opinion of the Marquis 
 
 6 J 
 
164 BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 
 
 Chattlelcux be omitted. "As for Gen. Knox," he says, "to 
 praise him for his military talents alone, would be to deprive 
 him of half the eulogium he merits; a man of understanding, 
 well informed, gay, sincere, and honest — it is impossible to know 
 without esteeming him, or to see without loving him. Thus 
 have the English, without intention, added to the ornaments of 
 the human species, by awakening talents where they least wish- 
 ed or expected." Judge Marshall also, in his life of Washing- 
 ton, thus speaks of him: "throughout the contest of the revolu- 
 tion, this officer had continued at the head of the American ar- 
 tillery, and from being colonel of a regiment, had been pro- 
 moted to the rank of major general. In this important station 
 ke had preserved a high military character, and on Hie resig- 
 nation of General Lincoln, had been appointed secretary of 
 war. To his great services, and to unquestionable integrity, 
 he was admitted to unite a sound understanding; and the public 
 judgment as well as that of the chief magistrate, pronounced 
 him in all respects competent to the station he tilled. The pre- 
 sident was highly gratified in believing that his public duty com- 
 ported with his private inclination, in nominating General Knox 
 to the office which had been conferred on him under the former 
 government." 
 
 BENJAMIN LINCOLN, 
 
 Major-Gcncral in the American Army. 
 
 "GeNERAL Lincoln deserves a high rank in the fraternity of 
 Americanjieroes. He was born in Hingham, Massachusetts, 
 January 23d, O. S. 1733. His early education was not auspi- 
 cious to his future eminence, and his vocation was that of a far- 
 mer, till he was more than forty years of age, though he was 
 commissioned as a magistrate, and elected a representative in 
 the state legislature. In the year 1775, he sustained the office 
 of lieutenant colonel of militia. In 1776, he was appointed by 
 the council of Massachusetts, a brigadier, and soon after a ma- 
 jor general, and be applied himself assiduously to training, and 
 
 y 
 
BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 185 
 
 preparing the militia for actual service in the field, in which he 
 displayed the military talents which he possessed. In October, 
 he marched with a body of militia and joined the main army 
 at New York. The commander-in-chief, from a knowledge of 
 his character and merit, recommended him to congress as an ex- 
 cellent officer, and in February, 1777 y he was by that honorable 
 body, created a major general on the continental establishment. 
 For several months he commanded a division, or detachments 
 in the main army, under Washington, and was in situations 
 which required the excercise of the utmost vigilance and cau- 
 tion, as well as firmness and courage. Having the command of 
 about five hundred men in an exposed situation near Bound 
 Brook, through the neglect of his patroies, a large body of 
 the enemy approached within two hundred yards of his quarters 
 undiscovered ; the general had scarcely time to mount and leave 
 the house before it was surrounded. He led off his troops, how- 
 ever, in the face of the enemy, and made good his retreat, 
 though with the loss of about sixty men killed and wounded. 
 One of his aids, with the General's baggage and papers fell in- 
 to the hands of the enemy, as did also three small pieces of ar- 
 tillery. In July 1777, General Washington selected him to 
 join the northern army under the command of Gen. Gates, to 
 oppose the advance of Gen. Burgoyne. He took his station at 
 Manchester, in Vermont, to receive and form the New England 
 militia, as they arrived, and to order their march to the rear of 
 the British army. He detached Col. Brown with five hundred 
 men, on the 13th of September, to the landing at. Lake George, 
 where he succeeded in surprising the enemy, and took* posses- 
 sion of two hundred batteaux, liberated one hundred* American 
 prisoners, and captured two hundred and ninety-Three of the 
 cnenrvy, with the loss of only three killed and five wounded. 
 This enterprise was of the highest importance, and contributed 
 essentially to the glorious event which followed. Having de- 
 tached two other parties to the enemy's posts at Mount Indepen- 
 dence and Skenesborough, Gen. Lincoln united his remaining 
 force with the army under Gen. Gates, and was the second in 
 command. During the sanguinary conflict on the 7th of Octo- 
 24 
 
186 BENJAMIN LlNtOLN- 
 
 ber, Gen. Lincoln commanded within our lines, and at one 
 o'clock the next morning, he marched with his division to relieve 
 the troops that had been engaged, and to occupy the battle 
 ground, the enemy having retreated. While on this duty he had 
 occasion to ride forward some distance, to reconnoitre, and to 
 order some disposition of his own troops, when a party of the 
 enemy made an unexpected movement, and he approached 
 within musket shot before he was aware of his mistake. A 
 whole volley of musketry was instantly discharged at him and 
 his aids, and he received a wound by which the bones of his leg 
 were badly fractured, and he was obliged to be carried off the 
 field. The wound was a formidable one, and the loss of his 
 limb was for some time apprehended. He was for severar 
 months confined at Albany, and it became necessary to remove 
 a considerable portion of the main bone before he was conveyed 
 to his house at Hingham, and under this painful surgical opera- 
 tion, the writer of this being present, witnessed in him a degree 
 of firmness and patience not to be exceeded. "I have known 
 him," says Colonel Rice, who was a member of his military fam- 
 ily, "during the most painful operation by the surgeon, while by- 
 standers were frequently obliged to leave the room, entertain us 
 with some pleasant anecdote, or story, and draw forth a smile 
 from his friends." His wound continued several years in an ul- 
 cerated state, and by the loss of the bone, the limb was shorten- 
 ed, which occasioned lameness during the remainder of his life- 
 Gen. Lincoln certainly afforded v^ry important assistance in 
 the capture of Burgoyne, though it was his unfortunate lot, while 
 in active duty, to be disabled before he could participate in the 
 capitulation. Though his recovery was not complete, he re- 
 paired to head quarters in the following August, and was joyful- 
 ly received by the commander-in-chief, who well knew how to 
 appreciate his merit. It was from a developement of his esti- 
 mable character as a man, and his talents as a military comman- 
 der, that he was designated by Congress for the arduous duties 
 of the chief command in the southern department, under innu- 
 merable embarrassments. On his arrival at Charleston, De- 
 cember, 1778, he found that he had to form an army, provide 
 
BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 187 
 
 .supplies, and to arrange the various departments, that he might 
 be able to cope with an enemy consisting of experenced officers 
 and veteran troops. This, it is obvious, required a man of su- 
 perior powers, indefatigable perseverance, and unconquerable 
 energy. Had not these been his inherent qualities, Lincoln 
 must have yielded to the formidable obstacles which opposed his 
 progress. About the 28th of December, General Prevost ar- 
 rived with a fleet, and about three thousand British troops, and 
 took possession of Savannah, after routing a small party of 
 Americans, under General Robert Howe. Gen. Lincoln im- 
 mediately put his troops in motion, and took post on the eastern 
 side of the river, about twenty miles from the city; but he was 
 tiot in force to commence offensive operations, till the last of 
 February. In April, with the view of covering the upper part 
 of Georgia, he marched to Augusta, after which Prevost, the 
 British commander, crossed the river into Carolina, and march- 
 ed for Charleston. Gen. Lincoln, therefore, recrossed the Sa- 
 vannah, and followed his route, and on his arrival near the city, 
 the enemy had retired from before it during the previous night. 
 A detachment of the enemy, supposed to be about six hundred 
 men, under Lieutenant Colonel Maitland, being posted at Stone 
 Ferry, where they had erected works for their defence, General 
 Lincoln resolved to attack them, which he did on the 19th of 
 June. The contest lasted one hour and twenty minutes, in 
 which he lost one hundred and sixty men killed and wounded, 
 and the enemy suffered about an equal loss. Their works were 
 found to be much stronger than had been represented, and our 
 artillery proving too light to annoy them, and the enemy receiv- 
 ing a reinforcement, our troops were obliged to retire. 
 
 The next event of importance which occurred with our Gen- 
 rial, was the bold assault on Savannah, in conjunction with the 
 Count D'Estaing. General Prevost had again possessed him- 
 self of that city, and Count D'Estaing arrived with his fleet and 
 armament in the beginning of September, 1779. Having land- 
 ed nearly three thousand French troops, Gen. Lincoln imme- 
 diately united about one thousand men to his force. The 
 .prospect of success was highly flattering, but the enemy exerted 
 
188 BENJAMIN LINCOLN 
 
 all their eflorts in strengthening their line*, and after the counX 
 had summoned the garrison, and while Prevost was about to ar- 
 range articles of capitulation, he received a reinforcement, li 
 was now resolved to attempt the place by a regular siege, but 
 various causes occasioned a delay of several days, and when it 
 commenced, the cannonade and bombardment failed of produ- 
 cing the desired effect, and the short time allowed the count on 
 our coast, ti as quite insufficient for reducirg the garrison by 
 regular approaches. The commanders concluded therefore, to 
 make an effort on the works by assault. On the 9th of October 
 in the morning, the troops were led on by D'Estaing and Lin- 
 coln united, while a column led by Count Dillon missed their 
 route in tbe darkness, aid failed of the intended co-operation. 
 Amidst a most appalling fire of the covered enemy, the allied 
 troops forced the abbatis, and planted two standards on the par- 
 apets. But being overpowered at the point of attack, they 
 were compelled to retire; the French having seven hundred, 
 the Americans two hundred and forty killed and wounded. 
 The Count Pulaski, at the head of a body of our horse, was 
 mortally wounded. 
 
 General Lincoln next repaired to Charleston, and endeavored 
 to put that city in a posture of defence, urgently requesting of 
 congress a reinforcement of regular troops, and additional sup- 
 plies, which were but partially complied with. In February, 
 1780, General Sir Henry Clinton arrived, and landed a formi- • 
 dable force in the vicinity, and on the 30th of March encamped 
 in front o/ the American lines at Charleston. Considering Uk,* 
 vast superiority of the enemy, both in sea and land forces, it 
 might be questioned whether prudence and correct judgment, 
 would dictate an attempt to defend the city; it will not be sup- 
 posed however, that the determination was formed without the 
 most mature deliberation, and for reasons perfectly justifiable. 
 Itis well known that the general was in continual expectation of 
 an augmentation of strength by reinforcements. On the 10th 
 of April, the enemy having made some advances, summoned the 
 garrison to an unconditional surrender, which was promptly re- 
 cused. A heavy and incessant cannonade was sustained on each 
 
ii~NJAVIN LINCOLN. f&9 
 
 side, till the 11th of May, when the besiegers had completed 
 their third parallel line, and having made a second demand of 
 surrender, a capitulation was agreed on. 
 
 It is to be lamented that, with all the judicious and vigorous 
 efforts in his power, General Lincoln was requited only by the 
 frowns of fortune, whereas had he been successful in his bold 
 enterprise and views, he would have been crowned with unfa* 
 ding laurels. But notwithstanding a series of disappointments 
 and unfortunate occurrences, he was censured by no one, nor 
 was his judgment or merit called in question. He retained his 
 popularity, and the confidence of the army, and was considered 
 as a most zealous patriot, and the bravest of soldiers. 
 
 In the campaign of 1731, General Lincoln commanded a di- 
 vision under Washington, and at the siege of Yorktown he had 
 his full share of the honor of that brilliant and auspicious event. 
 The articles of capitulation stipulated for the same honor in 
 favor of the surrendering army, as had been granted to the gar- 
 rison of Charleston. General Lincoln was appointed to con- 
 duct them to the field where their arms were deposited, and 
 received the customary submission. In the general order of the 
 commander-in-chief the day after the capitulation, General Lin- 
 coln was among the general officers whose services were particu- 
 larly mentioned. In October, 1781, he was chosen by congress 
 secretary of war, retaining his rank in the army. In this offee 
 he continued till October, 1783, when his proffered resignation 
 was accepted by congress. 
 
 Having relinquished the duties and cares of a public employ- 
 ment, he retired and devoted his attention to his farm; but in 
 1784, he was chosen one of the commissioners and agents on 
 the part of the state to make and execute. a treaty with the Pe- 
 nobscot Indians. When in the year 1786 — 7, the authority of 
 our state government was in a manner prostrated, and the coun- 
 try alarmed by a most audacious spirit of insurrection, under 
 the guidance of Shays and Day, General Lincoln was appointed 
 by the governor and council, to command a detachment of mi- 
 litia, consisting of four or five thousand men, to oppose their 
 progress, and compel them to a submission to the laws. He 
 
190 BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 
 
 marched from Boston on the 20th of January, into the counties 
 of Worcester, Hampshire, and Berkshire, where the insurgents 
 had erected their standard. They were embodied in considera- 
 ble force, and manifested a determined resistance, and a slight 
 skirmish ensued between them and a party of militia under Gen. 
 Shepherd. Lincoln, however, conducted with such address and 
 energy, that the insurgents were routed from one town to ano- 
 ther, till they were completely dispersed in all directions; and 
 by his wise and prudent measures the insurrection was happily 
 suppressed without bloodshed, excepting a few individuals who 
 were slain under Gen. Shepherd's command. 
 
 He was a member of the convention for ratifying the federal 
 constitution, and in the summer of 1789, he received from Presi- 
 dent Washington the appointment of collector of the port of 
 Boston, which office he sustained till being admonished by the 
 increasing infirmities of age, he requested permission to resign. 
 
 Having after his resignation of the office of collector passed 
 about two years in retirement, and in tranquility of mind, but 
 experiencing the feebleness of age, hcreceived a short attack of 
 disease by which his honorable life was terminated on the 9th of 
 May, 1810, aged 77 years. 
 
 The following tribute is on the records of the society of Cin- 
 cinnati. "At the annual meeting in July, 1810, Major-General 
 John Brooks was chosen president of the society, to supply the 
 place of our venerable and much lamented president, Gen. Beja- 
 min Lincoln, who had presided over the society from the organi- 
 zation thereof in 1783, to the 9th of May, 1810, the day of his 
 decease, with the entire approbation of every member, and the 
 grateful tribute of his surviving comrades, for his happy gui- 
 dance and affectionate attentions during so long a period." 
 
 While at Purysburg, on the Savannah River, a soldier named 
 Fickling, having been detected in frequent attempts to desert, 
 was tried aid sentenced to be hanged. The general ordered 
 the execution. The rope broke; a second was procured which 
 broke also; the case was reported to the general for directions. 
 "Let him run, said the general, "I thought he looked like f*. 
 .scape-gallows." 
 
BENJAMIN LINCOLN. 191 
 
 Major Garden, in his Anecdotes of the American Revolution, 
 relates this story with some addition. It happened that, as 
 Fickling was led to execution, the surgeon-general of the army 
 passed accidentally, on his way to his quarters, which were at 
 some distance. When the second rope was procured, the adju- 
 tant of the regiment, a stout and heavy man, assayed by every 
 means to break it, but without effect. Fickling was then hal- 
 tered and again turned off, -when, to the astonishment of the by- 
 standers, the rope untwisted, and he fell a second time uninjured 
 to the ground. A cry for mercy was now general throughout the 
 ranks, which occasioned Major Ladson, aid-de-camp to General 
 Lincoln, to gallop to head-quarters, to make a representation of 
 facts which were no sooner stated, than an immediate pardon 
 was granted, accompanied with an order that he should instanta- 
 neously be drummed, with every mark of infamy, Out of camp, 
 and threatened with instant death, if he ever should be found 
 attempting to approach it. In the interim, the surgeon-general 
 had established himself at his quarters, in a distant barn, little 
 doubting but that the catastrophe was at an end, and Fickling 
 quietly restiug in his grave. Midnight was at hand, and he was 
 busily engaged in writing, when hearing the approach of a foot- 
 step, he raised his eyes, and saw with astonishment the figure of 
 the man, who had in his opinion been executed, slowly and with 
 haggard countenance, approaching towards him. "How! how 
 is this?" exclaimed the doctor, "whence come you? what do 
 you want with me? were you not hanged this morning? " "Yes 
 sir," replied the resuscitated man, "1 am the wretch you saw 
 going to the gallows, and who was hanged." " Keep your dis- 
 tance," said the doctor, "approach me not, till you say why you 
 eome here." " Simply sir," said the supposed spectre, " to soli- 
 cit food. I am no ghost, doctor. The rope broke twice, while 
 the executioner was doing his office, and the general thought 
 proper to pardon me." "If that be the case," rejoined the 
 doctor, "eat and be welcome; but I beg of you in future to 
 have a little more consideration, and not intrude so unceremo- 
 niously into the apartment of one, who had every right to sup- 
 pose you an inhabitant of the tomb."* 
 
 * Thacher's Military Joumai." 
 
(19B) 
 
 JOHN LAURENS.. 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 " Son of Henry Laurens, was born in Charleston, in 1755. — 
 In youth he discovered that energy of character which distin- 
 guished him through life. When a lad, though laboring under 
 a fever, on the cry of fire, he leaped from his bed, hastened to 
 the scene of danger, and was in a few minutes on the top of the 
 exposed houses, risking his life, to arrest the progress of the 
 flames. This is the more worthy of notice, for precisely in the 
 fame way, and under a similar, but higher impulse of ardent 
 patriotism, he lost his life in the year 1782. 
 
 At the age of sixteen he was taken to Europe by his father, 
 and there put under the best means of instruction in Geneva, 
 and afterward in London. 
 
 He was entered a student of law at the temple in 1774, and 
 was daily improving in legal knowledge till the disputes between 
 Great Britain and her colonies arrested his attention. He soon 
 found that the claims of the mother country struck at the root 
 of liberty in the colonies, and that she persevcringly resolved to 
 enforce these claims at every hazard. Fain would he have come 
 out to join his countrymen in arms at the commencement of the 
 contest; but the peremptory order of his father enjoined his 
 continuance in England, to prosecute his studies and finish hjs 
 education. As a dutiful son he obeyed these orders; but as a 
 patriot»burning with desire to defend his country, he dismissed 
 Coke, Littleton, and all the tribe of jurists, and substituted in 
 their place, Vauban, Folard, and other writers on war. He 
 also availed himself of the excellent opportunities which Lon- ~ 
 don affords of acquiring practical knowledge of the manual 
 exercise, of tactics, and the mechanism of war. Thus instruc- 
 ted, as soon as he was a freeman of legal age, he quitted Eng- 
 land for France, and by a circuitous voyage in neutral vessels, 
 and at a considerable risk made his way good, in the year 1 777, 
 to Charleston 
 
JOHN LAURENS. 10o 
 
 independence had been declared — the American army was 
 raised, officered, and in the field. He who, by his attainments 
 in general science, and particularly in the military art, deser- 
 ved high rank, had no ordinary door left open to serve his coun- 
 try, but by entering in the lowest grade of an army abounding 
 with officers. Gen. Washington, ever attentive to merit, in- 
 stantly took him into his family as a supernumerary aid-de- 
 camp. Shortly after this appointment, he had an opportunity 
 of indulging his military ardor. He fought and was wounded 
 in the battle of Germantown, October 4th, 17T7. He continued 
 in Gen. Washington's family in the middle states till the British 
 had retreated from Philadelphia to New-York, and was engaged 
 in the battle of Monmouth, June 28, 1778. 
 
 After this, the war being transferred more northwardly, he 
 was indulged in attaching himself to the army on Rhode-Island, 
 where the most active operations were expected soon to take 
 place. There he was intrusted with the command of some 
 light troops. The bravery and good conduct which he display- 
 ed on this occasion was honored by congress. 
 
 On the 5th of November, 1778, they resolved, "that John Lau- 
 rens. Esq. aid-de-camp to Gen. Washington, be presented with a 
 continental commission of lieutenant-colonel, in testimony of the 
 sense which congress entertain of his patriotic and spirited ser- 
 vices as a volunteer in the American army; and of his brave 
 conduct in several actions, particularly in that of Rhode-Island, 
 on the 29th of August last; and that General Washington be 
 directed, whenever an opportunity shall offer, to give lieuten- 
 ant-colonel Laurens command agreeable to his rank." On the 
 next day, a letter from Lieut. Col. Laurens was read in con- 
 gress, expressing " his gratitude for the unexpected honor which 
 congress were pleased to confer on him by the resolution pas- 
 sed the day before; and the high satisfaction it would have 
 afforded him, could he have accepted it without injuring the 
 rights of the officers in the line of the army, and doing an evi- 
 dent injustice to his colleagues in the family of the comman- 
 der-in-chief — that having been a spectator of the convulsions 
 occasioned in the army by disputes of rank, he held the tran 
 25 
 
/ 
 
 101 JOHN LAURENS. 
 
 quilily of it too dear to be instrumental in disturbing it, and 
 therefore entreated congress to suppress the resolve of jester- 
 day, ordering him a commission of lieutenant-colonel, and to 
 accept his sincere thanks for the intended honor." In this re- 
 linquishment there was a victory gained by patriotism over self- 
 love. Lieutenant-Colonel Laurens loved military fame and 
 rank; but he loved his country more, and sacrificed the former 
 to preserve the peace and promote the interests of the latter. 
 
 In the next year the British directed their military operations 
 chiefly against the most southern states. Lieut. Col. John Lau- 
 rens was induced by double motives to repair to Carolina. The 
 post of danger was always the object of his preference. His 
 native state was become the theatre of war. To its aid he 
 repaired, and in May 1779 with a party of light troops, had a 
 skirmish with the British at Tulirinny. In endeavoring to ob- 
 struct their progress towards Charleston, he received a wound. 
 This was no sooner cured than he rejoined the arrny, and was 
 engaged in the unsuccessful attack on Savannah, on the 9th of 
 October of the same year. To prepare for the defence of 
 Charleston, the reduction of winch was known to be contem- 
 plated by the British, was the next object of attention among 
 the Americans. To this Colonel Laurens devoted all the ener- 
 gies of his active mind. 
 
 In the progress of the siege, which commenced in 1780, the 
 success of defensive operations became doubtful. Councils of 
 war were frequent — several of the citizens were known to wish 
 for a surrender as a termination of their toils and dangers. In 
 these councils and on proper occasions, Colonel Laurens advoca- 
 ted the abandonment of the front lines, and to retire to new 
 ones, to be erected within the old ones, and to risk an assault. 
 When these spirited measures wereopposed on the suggestion 
 that the inhabitants preferred a capitulation, he declared that 
 he would direct his sword to the heart of the first citizen who 
 would urge a capitulation against the opinion of the comman- 
 der-in-chief. 
 
 When his superior officers, convinced of the inefficacy of fur- 
 ther resistance, were disposed to surrender on terms of capitu- 
 
JOHN LAURENS. 195 
 
 lation, he yielded to the necessity of the case, and became a 
 prisoner of war. This reverse of fortune opened a new door 
 for serving his country in a higher line than he ever yet had 
 done. He was soon exchanged, and reinstated in a capacity for 
 acting. In expediting his exchange, congress had the ulterior 
 view of sending him as a special minister to Paris, that he might 
 urge the necessity of a vigorous co-operation on the part of 
 France with the United States against Great Britain. When 
 this was proposed to Colonel Laurens, he recommended and 
 urged that Col. Alexander Hamilton should be employed in 
 preference to himself. Congress adhered to their first choice. 
 
 Colonel Laurens sailed for France in the latter end of 1780: 
 and there in conjunction with Dr. Franklin, and Count de Ver- 
 gennes, and Marquis de Castries, arranged the plan of the cam- 
 paign for 1781; which eventuated in the surrender of Lord 
 Cornwallis, and finally in a termination of the war. Within 
 six months from the day Col. Laurens left America, he returned 
 to it, and brought with him the concerted plan of combined ope- 
 rations. Ardent to rejoin the army, he was indulged with ma- 
 king a verbal report of his negotiations to congress; and in three 
 days set out to resume his place as one of the aids of Washing- 
 ton. The American and French army, about this time com- 
 menced the siege of Yorktown. In the course of it, Col. Lau- 
 rens, as second in command, with his fellow-aid, Col. Hamilton, 
 assisted in storming and taking an advanced British redoubt, 
 which expedited the surrender of Lord Cornwallis. The arti- 
 cles of capitulation were arranged by Col. Laurens on behalf 
 of the Americans. 
 
 Charleston and a part of South Carolina still remained in the 
 power of the British. Colonel Laurens thought nothing done 
 while any thing remained undone. He therefore, on the sur- 
 render of Lord Cornwallis repaired -to South Carolina, and 
 joined the southern army commanded by General Greene. In 
 the course of the summer of 1782 he caught a common fever, 
 and was sick in bed when an expedition was undertaken against 
 a party of British, which had gone to Combakee to carry off 
 rice. Col. Laurens rose from his sick bed and joined his conn- 
 
idO CHARLES LEE 
 
 trymcn. While leading an advanced party, he received a slioi 
 which, on the 27th of August, 1702, at the close of the war, 
 put an end to his valuable lile in the 27th year of his age. — 
 His many virtues have been ever since the subject of eulogy, 
 and his early fall, of national lamentation. The fourth of Jury- 
 seldom passes without a tribute to his memory."* 
 
 CHARLES LEE, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army, 
 
 Gen. Lee was an original genius possessing the most brilliant 
 talents, great military powers, and extensive intelligence and 
 knowledge of the world. He was born in Wales, his family 
 Springing from the same parent stock with the Earl of Leicester. 
 
 He may be properly called a child of Mars, for he was an officer 
 when but eleven years old. His favorite study was the science 
 of war, and his warmest wish was to become distinguished in it; 
 but though possessed of a military spirit, he was ardent in the 
 pursuit of general knowledge. He acquired a competent skill 
 in Greek and Latin, while his fondness for travelling made him 
 acquainted with' the Italian, Spanish, German, and French lan- 
 guages. 
 
 In 1756, he came to America, captain of a company of grena- 
 diers, and was present at the defeat of General Abcrcrombie, at 
 Ticonderoga, where he received a severe wound. In 1762, he 
 bore a colonel's commission, and served under Burgoync in Por- 
 tugal, where he greatly distinguished himself, and received the 
 strongest recommendations, for his gallantry; but his early at- 
 tachment to the American colonies, evinced in his writings 
 against the oppressive acts of parliament, lost him the favor of 
 the ministry. Despairing of promotion, and despising a life of 
 inactivity, he left his native soil and entered into the service of 
 his Polish majesty, as one of his aids, with the rank of major- 
 general. 
 
 * Ramsay's South Carolina,- 
 
CHARLES LEE. 197 
 
 His rambling disposition led him to travel all over Europe, 
 during the years of 1771, 1772, and part of 1773, and his 
 warmth of temper drew him into several rencounters, among 
 which was an affair of honor with an officer in Italy. The con- 
 test was begun, with swords, when the general lost two of his 
 fingers. Recourse was then had to pistols. His adversary was 
 slain, and he was obliged to flee from the country, in order 
 that he might avoid the unpleasant circumstances which might 
 result from this unhappy circumstance. 
 
 Gen. Lee appeared to be influenced by an innate principle of 
 republicanism; an attachment to these principles was implanted . 
 in the constitution of his mind, and he espoused the cause of 
 America as a champion of her emancipation from oppression. 
 
 Glowing with these sentiments, he embarked for this country 
 and arrived at New-York on the 10th of November (773. On 
 his arrival, he became daily more enthusiastic in the cause of 
 liberty, and travelled rapidly through the colonies, animating, 
 both by conversation and his eloquent pen, to a determined and 
 persevering resistance to British tyranny. 
 
 His enthusiasm in favor of the rights of the colonies was such, 
 that, after the battle of Lexington, he accepted a major-gene- 
 ral^ commission in the American army; though his ambition 
 had pointed out to him the post of commander-in-chief, as the 
 object of his wishes. Previous to this, however, he resigned his 
 commission in the British service, and relinquished his half-pay - 
 This he did in a letter to the British Secretary at Wan in which 
 he expressed his disapprobation of the oppressive measures of 
 Parliament, declaring them to be so absolutely subversive of the 
 rights and liberties of every individual subject, so destructive to 
 the whole empire at large, and ultimately, so ruinous to his ma- 
 jesty's own person, dignity, and family, that he thought himself 
 obliged in conscience, as a citizen, Englishman, and soldier of a 
 free state, to ex^rt his utmost to defeat them." 
 
 Immediately upon receiving his appointment, he accompanied 
 General Washington to the camp at Cambridge, where he arri 
 ved July 2d, 1775, and was received with every mark of respect. 
 
 As soon as it was discovered at Cambridge that the British 
 
198 CHARLES LEE. 
 
 General Clinton had left Boston, General Lee was ordered tu 
 set forward, to observe his manoeuvres, and prepare to meet 
 him in any part of the continent he might visit. No man was 
 better qualified, at this early state of the war, to penetrate the 
 designs of the enemy, than Lee. Nursed in the camp, and well 
 versed in European tactics, the soldiers believed him, of all 
 other officers, the best able to face in the field an experienced 
 British veteran, and lead them on to victory. 
 
 New- York was supposed to be the object of the enemy, and 
 hither he hastened with all possible expedition. Immediately, 
 on his arrival, Lee took the most active and prompt measures to 
 put it in a state of defence. He disarmed all suspected persons 
 within the reach of his command, and proceeded with such ri- 
 gor against the tories, as to give alarm at his assumption of mili- 
 tary powers. From the tories he exacted a strong oath, and his 
 bold measures carried terror wherever he appeared. 
 
 " Not long after he was appointed to the command of the 
 southern department, and in his travels through the country, he 
 received every testimony of high respect from the people. 
 General Sir Henry Clinton, and Sir Peter Parker, with a pow- 
 erful fleet and army, attempted the reduction of Charleston, 
 while he was in the command. The fleet anchored within half 
 musket-shot of the fort on Sullivan's Island ; where Col. Moul- 
 trie, one of the bravest and most intrepid of men, commanded. 
 A tremendous engagement ensued on the 28th of June, 1776, 
 which lasted twelve hours without intermission. The whole 
 British force was completely repulsed, after suffering an irrepa- 
 rable loss. 
 
 Gen. Lee and Col. Moultrie received the thanks of congress 
 for their signal bravery and gallantry. 
 
 Our hero had now reached the pinnacle of his military glory ; 
 the eclat of his name alone appeared to enchant and animate the 
 most desponding heart. But here we pause to Contemplate the 
 humiliating reverse of human events. He returned to the main 
 army in October; and in marching at the head of a large detach- 
 ment through the Jerseys, having, from a desire of retaining a 
 separate command, delayed his march several days, in disobedi- 
 
CHARLES LEE. 199 
 
 cnce of express orders from the commander-in-chief, he was 
 guilty of most culpable negligence in regard to his personal se- 
 curity. He took up his quarters two or three miles from the 
 main body, and lay for the night, December 13th, 1776, in a 
 careless, exposed situation. Information of this being commu- 
 nicated to Colonel Harcourt, who commanded the British light- 
 horse, he proceeded immediately to the house, fired into it, and 
 obliged the general to surrender himself a prisoner. They 
 mounted him on a horse in haste, without his cloak or hat, and 
 conveyed him in triumph to New- York."* 
 
 Lee was treated, while a prisoner, with great severity by the 
 enemy, who affected to consider him as a state prisoner and de- 
 serter from the service of his Brittanic majesty, and denied the 
 privileges of an American officer. Gen. Washington promptly 
 retaliated the treatment received by Lee upon the British offi- 
 cers in his possession. This state of things existed until the 
 capture of Burgoyne, when a complete change of treatment 
 was observed towards Lee ; and he was shortly afterward ex- 
 changed. 
 
 The first military act of General Lee, after his exchange, 
 closed his career in the American army. Previous to the bat- 
 tle of Monmouth, his character in general was respectable. 
 From the beginning of the contest, his unremitted zeal in the 
 cause of America excited and directed the military spirit of the 
 whole continent; and his conversation inculcated the principles 
 of liberty among all ranks of the people. 
 
 His important services excited the warm gratitude of many of 
 the friends of America. Hence it is said that a strong party 
 was formed in congress, and by some discontented officers in the 
 army, to raise Lee to the first cemmand: and it has been sugges- 
 ted by many, that General Lee's conduct at the battle of Mon- 
 mouth was intended to effect this plan: for could the odium of 
 the defeat have been at this time thrown on General Washing- 
 ton, there is great reason to suppose that he would have been 
 deprived of his command. 
 
 * Thachci's Military Journal. 
 
200 CHARLES LEE. 
 
 It is now to be seen how General Lee terminated his military 
 career. In the battle of Monmouth, on the 28th of June, 1 778, 
 he commanded the van of the American troops, with orders 
 from the commander-in-chief to attack the retreating enemy. 
 Instead of obeying this order he conducted in an unworthy man- 
 ner, and greatly disconcerted the arrangements of the day. 
 Washington, advancing to the field of battle, met him in his 
 disorderly retreat, and accosted him with strong expressions of 
 disapprobation. Lee, incapable of brooking even an. implied 
 indignity, and unable to restrain the warmth of his resentment, 
 used improper language in return, and some irritation was exci- 
 ted on both sides. The following letters immediately after pas- 
 sed between Lee and the commander-in-chief. 
 
 Camp, English Toivn, 1st July, 1778. 
 
 Sir — From the knowledge that I have of your Exccellency's 
 character, I must conclude that nothing but the misinformation of 
 some very stupid, or misrepresentation of some very wicked 
 person, could have occasioned your making use of such very sin- 
 gular expressions as you did, on my coming up to the ground 
 where you had taken post: they implied that I was guilty either 
 of disobedience of orders, want of conduct, or want of courage. 
 Your Excellency will, therefore, infinitely oblige me, by letting 
 me know on which of these three articles you ground your 
 charge, that I may prepare for my justification; which I have 
 the happiness to be confident I can do, to the army, to congress, 
 to America, and to the world in general. Your Excellency 
 must give me leave to observe, that neither yourself, nor those 
 about your person, could, from your situation, be in the least 
 judges of the merits or demerits of our manoeuvres; and, to 
 speak with a becoming pride, I can assert that to these manoeu- 
 vres the success of the day was entirely owing. I can boldly 
 say, that, had we remained on the first ground — or had we ad- 
 vanced — or had the retreat been conducted in a manner differ- 
 ent from what it was, this whole army, and the interests of Ame- 
 rica, would have risked being sacrificed. I ever had, and, I 
 hope, ever shall have, the greatest respect and veneration for 
 
CHARLES LEE. 201 
 
 General Washington; I think him endowed with many great 
 and good qualities: but in this instance I must pronounce, that 
 he has been guilty of an act of cruel injustice towards a n an, 
 who had certainly some pretensions to the regard of every ser- 
 vant of his country; and I think, sir, I have a right to demand 
 some reparation for the injury committed; and unless I can ob- 
 tain it, I must in justice to myself, when the campaign is closed, 
 which I believe will close the war, retire from a service, at the 
 head of which is placed a man capable of offering such injuries; 
 but at the same time, in justice to you, I must repeat that I, 
 from my soul, believe that it was not. a motion of your own 
 breast, but instigated by some of those dirty earwigs, who will 
 jforever insinuate themselves near persons in high office; for I 
 am really assured that, when General Washington acts from 
 himself, no man in his army will have reason to complain of in- 
 justice and indecorum. 
 
 I am, sir, and I hope ever shall have reason to continue, 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
 CHARLES LEE, 
 His Exc'y Gen. Washington. 
 
 Head-Quarters, English 7Wn, 28/A June 1778. 
 Sir — I received your letter, dated through mistake the 1st of 
 July, expressed, as I conceive, in terms highly improper. lam 
 not conscious of having made use of any singular expressions 
 at the time of my meeting you, as you intimate. What I re- 
 collect to have said was dictated by duty, and warranted by 
 the occasion. As soon as circumstances will admit, you shall 
 have an opportunity, either of justifying yourself to the army, 
 to Congress, to America, and to the world in general, or of 
 convincing them that you are guilty of a breach of orders, and 
 of misbehaviour before the enemy on the 28th instant, in not 
 attacking them as you had been directed, and in making an un- 
 necessary, disorderly, and shameful retreat. 
 I am, sir, 
 
 your most obedient servant, 
 
 G. WASHINGTON. 
 96 
 
80S CHARLES LEE. 
 
 A court martial, of which Lord Stirling was president, wm 
 ordered for his trial, and after a masterly defence by General 
 Lv,£, found him guilty of all the charges, and sentenced him to 
 be suspended from any command in the army for the term of 
 twelve months. This sentence was shortly afterward confirmed 
 by congress. 
 
 When promulgated, it was like a mortal wound to the lofty, 
 aspiring spirit of General Lee; pointing to his dog he exclaim- 
 ed — " Oh that I was that animal, that I might not call man my 
 brother." He became outrageous, and from that moment he 
 was more open and virulent in his attack on the character of 
 the commander-in-chief, and did not cease in his unwearied en- 
 deavors both in conversation and writings to lessen his reputa- 
 tion in the army, and the public. He was an active abettor of 
 Gen. Conway, in his calumny and abuse of Gen. Washington, 
 and they were believed to be in concert in their vile attempts to 
 supersede his Excellency in the supreme command. With the 
 hope of effecting his nefarious purpose, he published a pamphlet 
 replete with scurrilous imputations unfavorable to the military 
 talents of the commander-in-chief, but this, with his other ma- 
 lignant allegations, was consigned to contempt. 
 
 At length Col. Laurens, one'of Gen. Washington's aids, una* 
 ble longer to suffer this gross abuse of his illustrious friend, de- 
 manded of Lee that satisfaction which custom has sanctioned as 
 honorable. A rencounter accordingly ensued, and Lee received 
 a wound in his side. 
 
 Lee now finding himself abandoned by his friends, degraded 
 i-n the eye of the public, and despised by the wise and virtuous, 
 retired to his sequesteied plantation in Virginia. In this spot, 
 secluded from all society, he lived in a sort of hovel without glass 
 windows or plasteiing,or even a decent article of house furniture, 
 here he amused himself with his books and dogs. On January 
 10th, 1780, congress resolved that major-general Lee be inform- 
 ed that they have no further occasion Tor his services in the army 
 of the United States. In the autumn of 1782, w r earied with his 
 forlorn situation, and broken spirit, he resorted to Philadelphia, 
 and took lodgings in an ordinary tavern. He was soon siczed 
 
CHARLES LEE. 20& 
 
 with a disease of the lungs, and after a few days' confinement, 
 he terminated his mortal course, a martyr to chagrin and disap- 
 pointment, October 2d, 1782. The last words which he was 
 heard to utter, were, "stand by me, my brave grenadiers." 
 
 Gen. Lee was rather above the middle size, "plain in his per- 
 son, even to ugliness, and careless in his manners even to a de- 
 gree of rudeness; his nose was so remarkably aquiline, that it 
 appeared as a real deformity. His voice was rough, his garb 
 ordinary, his deportment morose. He was ambitious of fame, 
 without the dignity to support it. In private life he sunk into 
 the vulgarity of the clown." His remarkable partiality for 
 dogs was such, that a number of these animals constantly fol- 
 lowed in his train, and the ladies complained that he allowed 
 his canine adherents to follow him into the parlor, and not unfre* 
 quently a favorite one might be seen on a chair next his elbow 
 at table. 
 
 In the year 1776, when our army lay at White Plains, Lee 
 resided near the road which Gen. Washington frequently passed, 
 and he one day with his aids called and took dinner: after they 
 had departed, Lee said to his aids, "you must look me out other 
 quarters, or I shall have Washington and his puppies calling 
 till they eat me up." The next day he ordered his servant to 
 write with chalk on the door, "no victuals cooked here to-day." 
 The company, seeing the hint on the door, passed by with a 
 smile at the oddity of the man. " The character of this person," 
 says one who knew him well, "is full of absurdities and quali- 
 ties of a most extraordinary nature."* 
 
 While in Philadelphia, shortly before his death, the following 
 ludicrous circumstance took place, which created no small di- 
 version. 
 
 The late Judge Brackcnridgc, whose poignancy of satire, 
 and excentricity of character, was nearly a match for that of 
 the General, had dipped his pen in some gall, which greatly ir- 
 ritated Lee's feelings, insomuch that he challenged him to sin- 
 gle combat, which Brackenridge declined in a very eccentric 
 reply. Lee, having furnished himself with a horsewhip, deter* 
 
 J— ■ -- - ■— ■ — ■ ■ — - -' ■' X 1 t ; — ■— 
 
 *Thachcr's Journal. 
 
304 CHARLES LEE. 
 
 mined to chastise him ignominiouidy on the very first opportu- 
 nity. Observing Brackenridge going down Market-street, a few- 
 days after, he gave him chase, and Brackenridge took refuge in 
 a public house, and barricaded the door of the room he entered. 
 A number of persons collected to see the result. Lee damr.ed 
 him, and invited him to come out and fight him like a man. 
 Brackenridge replied that he did not like to be shot at, a;.d 
 made some other curious observations, which only increased 
 Lee's irritation, and the mirth of the spec ators. Lee, with fhe 
 most bitter imprecation, ordered him to come out, when he said 
 he would horsewhip him. Brackenridge replied, that he had no 
 occasion for a discipline of that kind. The amusing scene last- 
 ed some time, until at length, Lee, finding that he could accom- 
 plish no other object than calling forth Brackenridge's wit for 
 the amusement of the by-standers, retired. 
 
 Gen. Lee was master of a most genteel address, but was rude 
 :in his manners, and excessively negligent in his appearance and 
 behaviour. His appetite was so whimsical, that he was every 
 where a most troublesome guest. Two or three dogs usually 
 followed him wherever he went. As an ollicer he was brave and 
 able, and did much towards disciplining the American army. 
 With vigorous powers of mind, and a brilliant fancy, he was a 
 correct and elegant classical scholar, and he both wrote and 
 spoke his native language with propriety, force and beauty. 
 His temper was severe; the history of his life is little else than 
 the history of disputes, quarrels and duels, in every part of the 
 world. He was vindictive, avaricious, immoral, impious and 
 profane. His principles, as would be expected from his charac- 
 ter, were most abandoned, and he ridiculed every tenet of reli- 
 gion. Two virtues he possessed to an eminent degree, sincerity 
 and veracity. It was notorious that Gen. Lee was a man of un- 
 bounded personal ambition, and, conscious of his European ed- 
 ucation, and preeminent military talents and prowess, he aflect- 
 ed a superiority over Gen. Washington, and constantly aimed 
 at the supreme command, little scrupulous as to the means em» 
 ployed to accomplish his own advancement. 
 
 The following is an extract from Gen. Lee's will: 
 
HENRY LEE. -05 
 
 5*1 desire most earnestly that I may not be buried in any 
 church or church yard, or within a mile of any Presbyterian or 
 Anabaptist Meeting House, for since I have resided in this coun- 
 try,! have kept so much bad company while living, that I do not 
 choose to continue it while dead." 
 
 HENRY LEE, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 Colonel Lee was by birth a Virginian, and descended from 
 the most distinguished branch of the Lees of that state. He 
 possessed the lofty genius of his family, united to invincible 
 courage and firmness, and all the noble enthusiasm of the war- 
 rior. Gen. Charles Lee, who was, beyond question, a compe- 
 tent judge of military talent, averred, "that Henry Lee came 
 a soldier from his mother's womb." Gen. Greene pronounced 
 him The Eye of the southern army, and to his councils gave the 
 most implicit, constant, and unbounded confidence. In the hour 
 of difficulty, was danger to be averted, was prompt exertion ne- 
 cessary to prevent revolt, crush insurrection, *u£ off supplies, 
 harass the enemy, or pursue him to destruction, to no one did 
 he so often turn as to Lee. 
 
 But his ardor, brillancy,and daring resolution, constituted but 
 a part of his military worth. In him the fierce impetuosity of 
 youth was finely blended with the higher and more temperate 
 qualities of age. If he had, in his temperament, something of 
 the electrical fire of Achilles, it was ennobred by the polished 
 dignity of Hector, and repressed and moderated by the wisdom 
 of Nestor. 
 
 For vigilance, intelligence, decision of character, skill in 
 arms, a spirit of enterprise, and powers of combination, he had 
 but few equals, youthful as he was, in the armies of his country. 
 
 As an .officer of horse, and a partisan commander, perhaps he 
 had no superior upon earth. 
 
 That he was justly entitled to this encomium, appears, as well 
 from the extensive catalogue of his exploits, as from the high 
 
30t) FRANCIS MARION. 
 
 confidence always reposed in him by the commanding oflicGr 
 under whom he served. This is true, no less in relation to 
 Washington than Greene. He was the intimate friend and con- 
 fidant of both. The sentiments of the latter, with regard to 
 him, are forcibly expressed in the following extract of a letter, 
 dated February 1 8th, 1782. 
 
 "Lieutenant-colonel Lee retires, for a time, for the recovery 
 of his health. I am more indebted to this officer than to any 
 other, for the advantages gained over the enemy, in the opera- 
 tions of the last campaign; and I should be wanting in gratitude, 
 not to acknowledge the importance of his services, a detail of 
 which is his best panegyric."* 
 
 FRANCIS MARION, 
 
 Colonel in the American Ami}. 
 
 Francis Marion, colonel in the regular service, and brigadier 
 •general in the militia of South Carolina, was born in the vicinity 
 of Georgetown, in the year 1733. 
 
 To portray the meteor-like course of hardihood and exploit 
 traced by Gen. Marion and his heroic followers would constitute 
 a picture, rich in admiration and delight to the lovers of bravery 
 and romantic adventure. Never w r as an officer better suited to 
 the times in which he lived, and the situation in which it was his 
 fortune to act. For stratagems, unlooked-for enterprises against 
 the enemy, and devices for concealing his own position and 
 movements, he had no rival. Never, in a single instance, was 
 he overtaken in his course, or discovered in his hiding-place. 
 Even some of his own party, anxious for his safety and well 
 acquainted with many of the places of his retreat, have sought 
 for him whole days in his immediate neighborhood without find- 
 ing him. Suddenly and unexpectedly, in some distant point he 
 would again appear, pouncing upon his enemy like the eagle* 
 
 'Life of Greene 
 
FRANCIS MARION. 207 
 
 upon his prey. These high and rare qualities conducted hira 
 repeatedly into the arms of victory, when the force he encoun- 
 tered was tenfold the number of that he commanded. 
 
 Young Marion, at the age of sixteen, entered on board a ves- 
 sel bound to the West Indies, with a determination to fit himself 
 for a seafaring life. On his outward passage, the vessel was 
 upset in a gale of wind, when the crew took to their boat with- 
 out water or provisions, it being impracticable to save any of 
 either. A dog jumped into the boat with the crew, and upon 
 his flesh, eaten raw, did the survivors of these unfortunate men 
 subsist for seven or eight days; in which period several died of 
 hunger. 
 
 Among the few who escaped was young Marion. After reach- 
 ing land, Marion relinquished his original plan of life, and en- 
 gaged in the labors of agriculture. In this occupation he con- 
 tinued until 1759, when he became a soldier, and was appointed 
 a lieutenant in a company of volunteers, raised for an expedi- 
 tion against the Cherokee Indians, commanded by Captain Wil- 
 liam Moultrie, (since General Moultrie.) 
 
 As soon as the war broke out between the colonies and the 
 mother country, Marion was called to the command of a com- 
 pany in the first corps raised by the state of South Carolina. 
 He was soon afterward promoted to a majority, and served in 
 that rank under Colonel Moultrie, in his intrepid defence of 
 Fort Moultrie, against the combined attack of Sir Henry Clin- 
 ton and Sir Peter Parker, on the 2d of June, 1776. He was 
 afterwards placed at the head of a regiment, as lieutenant-colo- 
 nel commandant, in which capacity he served during the siege 
 of Charleston ; when, having fractured his leg by some accident, 
 he became incapable of military duty, and, fortunately for his 
 country, escaped the captivity to which the garrison was, in lliQ 
 sequel, forced to submit. 
 
 When Charleton fell into the enemy's hands, lieutenant-colo- 
 nel Marion abandoned his state, and took shelter in North Caro- 
 lina. The moment he recovered from the fracture of his leg, he 
 engaged in preparing the means of annoying the enemy, then 
 in the flood tide of prosperity. With sixteen men only, he cros«- 
 
208 FRANCIS MARION. 
 
 scd the Santee, and commenced that daring system of warfare 
 which so much annoyed the British army. 
 
 Colonel Peter Horry, in his life of General Marion, gives the 
 following interesting incident: "About this time we received a 
 flag from the enemy in Georgetown, South Carolina, the object 
 of which was to make some arrangements about the exchange 
 of prisoners. The flag, after the usual ceremony of blindfold- 
 ing, wns conducted into Marion's encampment. Having heard 
 great talk about Gen. Marion, his fancy had naturally enough 
 sketched out for him some stout figure of a warrior, such as 
 O'Hara, or Cornwallis himself, of martial aspect and flaming 
 regimentals. But what was his surprise, when led into Mari- 
 on's presence, and the bandage taken from his eyes, he beheld 
 in our hero a swarthy, smoke dried little man, with scarcely 
 enough of thread-bare homespun to cover his nakedness! and 
 instead of tall ranks of gay-dressed soldiers, a handful of sun- 
 burnt, yellow-legged militia-men; some roasting potatoes, and 
 some asleep, with their black firelocks and powder-horns lying 
 by them on the logs. Having recovered a little from his sur- 
 prise, he presented his letter to Gen. Marion, who perused it 
 and soon settled every thing to his satisfaction. 
 
 The officer took up his hat to retire. 
 
 " Oh no! " said Marion, u it is now about our time of dining; 
 and I hope sir, you will give us the pleasure of your company 
 to dinner. 
 
 At the mention of the word dinner, the British officer looked 
 around him, but to his great mortification, could see no sign of a. 
 pot, pan, Dutch-oven, or any other cooking utensil that could 
 raise the spirits of a hungry man. 
 
 "Well, Tom," said the General to one of his men, "come, 
 give us our dinner." 
 
 The dinner to which he alluded, Mas no other than a heap of 
 sweet potatoes, that were very snugly roasting under the em- 
 bers, and which Tom, with his pine stick poker, soon liberated 
 from their ashy confinement; pinching them every now and then 
 with his fingers, especially the big ones, to see whether they 
 were well done or not. Then, having cleansed them of the 
 
FRANCIS MARION. &0i> 
 
 ashes, partly by blowing them with his breath, and partly by 
 brushing them with the sleeve of his old cotton shirt, he piled 
 some of the best on a large piece of bark, and placed them be- 
 tween the British officer and Marion, on the trunk of the fallen 
 pine on which they sat. 
 
 "I fear, sir," said the General, "our dinner will not prove so 
 palatable to you as I could wish; but it is the best we have." 
 
 The officer, who was a well-bred man, took up one of the 
 potatoes, and affected to feed, as if he had found a great dainty-; 
 but it was very plain that he ate more from good manners than 
 good appetite. 
 
 Presently he broke out into a hearty laugh. Marion looked 
 surprised. " I beg pardon, General," said he, "but one cannot 
 you know, always command one's conceits. I was thinking how 
 drolly some of my brother officers would look, if our govern- 
 ment were to give them such a bill of fare as this." 
 
 " I suppose," replied Marion, " it is not equal to their style 
 of dining." 
 
 "No, indeed," quoth the officer, "and this, I imagine, is one 
 of your accidental Lent dinners: a sort of ban-yan. In gene- 
 ral, no doubt, you live a great deal better." 
 
 "Rather worse," answered the general, "for often we don't 
 get enough of this." 
 
 "Heavens!" rejoined the officer, "but probably what you 
 lose in meal you make up in malt, though stinted in provisions, 
 you draw noble pay." 
 
 "Not a cent, sir" said Marion, "not a cent." 
 
 " Heavens and earth ! then you must be in a bad box. I 
 don't see, General, how you can stand it." 
 
 " Why, sir," replied Marion, with a. smile of self-approbation, 
 " these things depend on feeling." 
 
 The Englishman said, " he did not believe it would be an easy 
 matter to reconcile his feelings to a soldier's life on Gen. Marion's 
 terms : all fighting, no pay, and no provisions but potatoes." 
 
 " Why, sir," answered the General, " the heqrt is all; and 
 when that is once interested, a man can do any thing. Many a 
 27 
 
210 FRANCIS MARION. 
 
 youfh would think it hard to indent himself a slave for fourteen 
 years. But let him be over head and ears in love, and with 
 such a beauteous sweetheart as Rachael, and he will think no 
 more of fourteen years' servitude than young Jacob did. 
 Well, now this is exactly my case. I am in love; and my 
 sweetheart is liberty. Be that heavenly nymph my compan- 
 ion, and these woods shall have charms beyond London and Pa- 
 ris in slavery. To have no proud monarch driving over me 
 with his gilt coaches; nor his host of excisemen and tax-gath- 
 erers insulting and robbing; but to be my own master, my own 
 prince and sovereign; gloriously preserving my natural dig- 
 nity, and pursuing my true happiness, planting my vineyards, 
 and eating their luscious fruit; sowing my fields, and reaping 
 the golden grain; and seeing millions of brothers all around 
 me, equally free and happy as myself: — this, sir, is what I long 
 for." 
 
 The officer replied that both as a man and a Briton, he must 
 subscribe to this as a happy state of things. 
 
 " Happy ," quoth Marion, "yes happy indeed: and I would 
 rather fight for such blessings for my country, and feed on roots, 
 than keep aloof, though wallowing in all the luxuries of Solo- 
 mon. For now, sir, I walk the soil that gave me birth, and ex- 
 ult in the thought that I am not unworthy of it. I look upon 
 these venerable trees around me, and feel that I do not dis- 
 honor them, . I think of my own sacred rights, and rejoice that I 
 have not basely deserted them. And when I look forward to 
 the long, long ages of posterity, I glory in the thought that I 
 am fighting their battles. The children of distant generations 
 may never hear my name; but still it gladdens my heart to 
 think that I am now contending for their freedom, with all its 
 countless blessings." 
 
 I looked at Marion as he uttered these sentiments, and fan- 
 cied I felt as when I heard the last words of the brave De 
 Kalb. The Englishman hung his honest head, and looked 
 I thought, as if he had seen the upbraiding ghosts of his* 
 illustrious countrymen, Sidney and Hampden. 
 
FRANCIS MARION. 211 
 
 On his return to Georgetown, he was asked by Col. Watson 
 why he looked so serious? 
 
 " I have cause, sir," said he, " to look so serious.' 1 
 
 "What! has Gen. Marion refused to treat?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Well then, has old Washington defeated Sir Henry Clinton, 
 and broke up our army?" 
 
 "No, sir, not that neither; but worse." 
 
 "Ah! what can be worse?" 
 
 " Why, sir, I have seen an American general and his officers, 
 without pay, and almost without clothes, living on roots, and drink- 
 ing water; and all for Liberty ! ! What chance have we against 
 such men?" 
 
 It is said Col. Watson was not much obliged to him for this 
 speech. But the young officer was so struck with Marion's sen- 
 timents, that he never rested until he threw up his commission, 
 and retired from the service." * 
 
 "Gen. Marion, whose stature was diminutive, and his person 
 uncommonly light, rode, when in service, one of the fleetest and 
 most powerful chargers the south could produce. When in 
 fair pursuit, nothing could escape him, and when retreating, 
 nothing could overtake him. 
 
 Being once nearly surrounded by a party of British dragoons, 
 he was compelled for safety, to pass into a corn-field, by leaping 
 the fence. This field marked with a considerable descent of 
 surface, had been in part a marsh. Marion entered it at the 
 upper side. The dragoons in chase leapt the fence also, and 
 were but a short distance behind him. So completely was he 
 now in their power, that his only mode of escape was to pass 
 over the fence on the lower side. But here lay a difficulty 
 which to all but himself appeared insurmountable. 
 
 To drain the ground of its superfluous waters, a trench had 
 been cut around this part of the field, four feet wide and of the 
 same depth. Of the mud and clay removed in cutting it, a 
 bank had been formed on its inner side, and on the top of this 
 was erected the fence. The elevation of the whole amounted 
 
 * Aoier. Biographical Dictionary. 
 

 ^ HUGH MERCER. 
 
 to more than seven feet perpendicular height; a ditch four feet 
 in width running parallel with it on the outside, and a foot or 
 more of space intervening between the fence and the ditch. 
 
 The dragoons, acquainted with the nature and extent of this 
 obstacle, and considering it impossible for their enemy to pass it, 
 pressed towards him with loud shouts of exultation and insult, 
 and summoned him to surrender or perish by the sword. Re- 
 gardless of their rudeness and empty clamor, and inflexibly 
 determined not to become their prisoner, Marion spurred his 
 horse to the charge. The noble animal, as if conscious that 
 his master's life was in danger, and that on his exertion depended 
 his safety, approached the barrier in his finest style, and with a 
 bound that was almost supernatural, cleared the fence and the 
 ditch, and recovered himself without injury on the opposite side. 
 
 Marion now facing his pursuers, who had halted at the fence 
 unable to pass it, discharged his pistols at them without effect, 
 and then wheeling his horse, and bidding them " good mor- 
 ning,'' with an air of triumph, dashed into an adjoining thicket, 
 and disappeared in an instant. 
 
 Gen. Marion was a native of South Carolina; and the imme- 
 diate theatre of his exploits, was a large section of the mari- 
 time district of that state, around Georgetown. The peculiar 
 hardihood of his constitution, and its being accommodated to a 
 warm climate and a low marshy country, qualified him to endure 
 hardships and submit to exposures, which, in that sickly region, 
 few other men would have been competent to sustain. He con- 
 tinued his undivided efforts until the close of the war, and lived 
 to see the United States enrolled among the free and indepen- 
 dent nations of the earth. 
 
 HUGH MERCER, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 Gen. Mercer was a Scotchman by birth, but at an early age 
 emigrated to Virginia, where he continued to reside, and became 
 a practising physician. 
 
HUGH MERCEfi. 213 
 
 Gen. Wilkinson relates the following interesting incidents in 
 his life : — 
 
 "He served in the campaign of 1755, with Gen. Braddock, 
 and was wounded through the shoulder in the unfortunate 
 action near Fort Du Quesne: unable to retreat, he lay down 
 under cover of a large fallen tree, and in the pursuit, an Indian 
 leaped upon his covert immediately over him, and after looking 
 about a few seconds for the direction of the fugitives, he sprang 
 off without observing the wounded man who lay at his feet. 
 So soon as the Indians had killed the wounded, scalped the 
 dead, rifled the baggage, and cleared the field, the unfortunate 
 Mercer, finding himself exceedingly faint and thirsty, from loss 
 of blo,od, crawled to an adjacent brook, and after drinking plen- 
 tifully, found himself so ranr.h refreshed, that he was able to 
 -walk, and commenced his return by the road the army had 
 advanced; but being without subsistence, and more than a 
 hundred miles from any Christian settlement, he expected to 
 die of famine, when he observed a rattlesnake on his path, 
 which he killed and contrived to skin, and throwing it over his 
 sound shoulder, he subsisted on it as the claims of nature urged, 
 until he reached Fort Cumberland, on the Potomac." 
 
 Gen. Mercer at the commencement of the revolution, hear- 
 tily engaged in the cause of American liberty. *He was one 
 of those gallant spirits who adhered to the American cause "in 
 times that tried men's souls," and bravely supported the com- 
 mander-in-chief in his disastrous retreat through the Jerseys. 
 
 He was present at the battle of Princeton, where he greatly 
 distinguished himself, and was mortally wounded. 
 
 "On the night of the 1st of January, Gen. Mercer, Col. C. 
 Biddle, and Doctor Cochran spent the evening with General St. 
 Clair. Fatigued with the duties of the day, I had lain down in 
 the same apartment, and my attention was attracted by the turn 
 of their conversation, on the recent promotion of Captain Wil- 
 liam Washington, from a regiment of infantry to a majority of 
 cavalry. General Mercer expressed his disapprobation of the 
 measure ; at which the gentlemen appeared surprised, as it was 
 the reward of acknowledged gallantry: and Mercer, in expla- 
 
214 HUGH MERCER 
 
 nation observed: "We are not engaged in a war of ambition; 
 if it had been so, 1 should never have accepted a commission 
 under a man who had not seen a day's service, (alluding to the 
 great orator, and distinguished patriot, Patrick Henry;) we 
 serve not for ourselves, but for our country, and every man 
 should be content to fill the place in which he can be most use- 
 ful. I know Washington to be a good captain of infantry, but 
 I know not what sort of a major of horse he may make; 
 and I have seen good captains make indifferent majors; for my 
 own part my views in this contest are confined to a single object, 
 that is, the success of the cause, and God can witness how 
 cheerfully I would lay down my life to secure it." 
 
 "In Gen. Mercer we lost a chief, who for education, experi- 
 ence, talents, disposition, integrity and patriotism, was second 
 to no man but the commander-in-chief, and was qualified to fill 
 the highest trusts of the country. The manner in which he 
 was wounded, is an evidence of the excess to which the com- 
 mon soldierv are liable in the heat of action, particularly when 
 irritated by the loss of favorite officers. Being obstructed 
 when advancing by a post and rail fence in front of the orchard, 
 it may be presumed the general dismounted voluntarily, for he 
 was on foot when the troops gave way; in exerting himself 
 to rally them he was thrown into the rear, and perceiving 
 he could not escape, he turned, and surrendered, but was 
 instantly knocked down, and bayonetted thirteen times, when 
 feigning to be dead, one of his murderers exclaimed,. "Damn 
 him, he is dead, let us leave him." After the retreat of the 
 enemy, he was conveyed to the house of Thomas Clark, to 
 whom he gave this account, and languished until the 12th, 
 when he expired."* 
 
 * Wilkinson's Memoirs. 
 
(215; 
 
 DANIEL MORGAN, 
 
 Brigadier-general in the American Army. 
 
 General Morgan was the creator of his own fortune. Bora 
 of poor, though honest parents, he enjoyed none of the advan- 
 tages which result from wealth and early education. But his 
 was a spirit that would not tamely yield to difficulties. 
 
 "He was born in New Jersey, where, from his poverty and 
 low condition, he had been a day-laborer. To early education 
 and breeding, therefore, he owed nothing. But for this deficien- 
 cy, his native sagacity, and sound judgment, and his intercourse 
 with the best society, made much amends in afterlife. 
 
 Enterprising in his disposition, even now he removed to Vir- 
 ginia, in 1755, with a hope and expectation of improving his 
 fortune. Here he continued, at first, bis original business of 
 day-labor; but exchanged it, afterward, for the employment of 
 a wagoner. 
 
 . His military novitiate he served in the campaign under the 
 unfortunate Braddock. The rank he bore is not precisely 
 known. It must, however, have been, humble; for, in conse- 
 quence of imputed contumely towards a British officer, he was 
 brought to the halbert, and received the inhuman punishment of 
 five hundred lashes; or, according to his own statement, of four 
 hundred and ninety nine ; for he always asserted that the drum- 
 mer, charged with the execution of the sentence, miscounted, 
 and jocularly added, "that George the Third was still indebted 
 to him one lash." To the honor of Morgan, he never practical- 
 ly remembered this savage treatment during the revolutionary 
 war. Towards the British officers, whom the fortune of battle 
 placed within his power, his conduct was humane, mild and 
 gentlemanly. 
 
 After his return from this campaign, so inordinately was he 
 addicted to quarrels and boxing matches, that the village of 
 Berrystown, in the county of Frederick, which constituted the 
 chief theatre of his pugilistic exploits, received, from this cir 
 cumstance, the name of Battletown. 
 
216 DANIEL MORGAN". 
 
 In these combats, although frequently overmatched in per- 
 sonal strength, he manifested the same unyielding spirit which 
 characterised him afterward, in his military career. When 
 worsted by his antagonist, he would pause, for a time, to re- 
 cruit his strength; and then return to the contest, again and 
 ■again, until he rarely failed to prove victorious. 
 
 Equally marked was his invincibility of spirit in maturer age, 
 when raised, by fortune and his own merit, to a higher and 
 more honorable field of action. Defeat in battle he rarely ex- 
 perienced; but when he did, his retreat was sullen, stern and 
 dangerous. 
 
 The commencement of the American revolution, found Mr. 
 Morgan married and cultivating a farm, which, by industry and 
 economy he had been enabled to purchase, in the county of 
 Frederick. 
 
 Placed at the head of a rifle company, raised in his neighbor- 
 hood, in 1775, he marched immediately to the American head- 
 quarters, in Cambridge, near Boston. 
 
 By order of the commander-in-chief, he soon afterward join- 
 ed in the expedition against Quebec; and was made prisoner in* 
 the attempt on that fortress, where Arnold was wounded, and 
 Montgomery fell. 
 
 During the assault, his daring valor and persevering gallant- 
 ry attracted the notice and admiration of the enemy. 
 
 The assailing column, to which he belonged, was led by Maj. 
 Arnold. When that officer was wounded, and carried from the 
 ground, Morgan threw himself into the lead; and, rushing for- 
 ward, passed the first and second barriers. For a moment, vic- 
 tory appeared certain. But the fall of Montgomery closing the 
 prospect, the assailants were repulsed, and the enterprise aban- 
 doned. During his captivity, Capt. Morgan was treated with 
 great kindness, and not a little distinction. He was repeated- 
 ly visited in confinement by a British officer of rank, who at 
 length made an attempt on his patriotism and virtue, by offer- 
 ing him the commission and emoluments of colonel in the Brit- 
 ish army, on condition that he would desert the American and 
 join the roval standards 
 
DANIEL MORGAN. 217 
 
 Morgan rejected the proposal with scorn: and requested the 
 courtly and corrupt negotiator "never again to insult him in his 
 misfortunes, by an offer which plainly implied that he thought 
 him a villain." The officer withdrew, and did not again recur 
 to the subject. 
 
 On being exchanged, Morgan immediately rejoined the Amer- 
 ican army, and received, by the recommendation of Gen. Wash- 
 ington, the command of a regiment. 
 
 In the year 1777, he was placed at the head of a select rifle 
 corps, with which, in various instances, he acted on the enemy 
 with terrible effect. His troops were considered the most dan- 
 gerous in the American service. To confront them, in the field, 
 was almost certain death to the British officers. 
 
 On the occasion of the capture of Burgoyne, the exertions 
 and services of Col. Morgan, and his riflemen, were beyond all 
 praise. Much of the glory of the achievement belonged to 
 them. Yet so gross was the injustice of Gen. Gates, that he 
 did not even mention them in his official despatches. His rea- 
 son for this was secret and dishonorable. Shortly after the sur- 
 render of Burgoyne, Gen. Gates took occasion to hold w^th Mor- 
 gan a private conversation. In the course of this, he told him 
 confidentially, that the main army was exceedingly dissatisfied 
 with the conduct of Gen Washington ; that the reputation of 
 the commander-in-chief was rapidly declining; and that sever- 
 al officers of great worth threatened to resign unless a change 
 we're produced in that department. 
 
 Colonel Morgan, fathoming in an instant, the views of his 
 commanding officer, sternly, and with honest indignation, re- 
 plied, "Sir, I have one favor to ask. Never, again, mention to 
 me this hated subject ; under no other man but Gen. Washington, 
 as commander-in-chief, will I ever serve." 
 
 From that moment ceased the intimacy that had previously 
 subsisted between him and Gen. Gates. 
 
 A few days afterward, the General gave a dinner to the prin- 
 cipal officers of the British, and some of those of the American 
 army. Morgan was not invited. In the course of the evening, 
 that officer found it necessary to call on Gen. Gates, on official 
 
218 DANIEL MORGAN, 
 
 business. Being introduced into the dining room, he spoke to 
 the General, received his orders, and immediately withdrew, 
 his name unannounced. Perceiving, from his dress, that he was 
 of high rank, the British officers inquired his name. Being told 
 that it was Col. Morgan, commanding the rifle corps, they rose 
 from the table, followed him into the yard, and introduced them- 
 selves to him, with many complimentary and flattering expres- 
 sions, declaring that, on the day of action, they had very se^ 
 verely felt him in the field. 
 
 In 1780, having obtained leave of absence from the army, 
 on account of the shattered condition of his health, he retired 
 to his estate, in the county of Frederick; and remained there 
 until the appointment of Gen. Gates to the command of the 
 southern army. 
 
 Being waited on by the latter, and requested to accompany 
 him, he reminded him, in expressions marked by resentment, of 
 the unworthy treatment he had formerly experienced from him, 
 in return for the important services, which he did not hesitate 
 to assert, he had rendered him in his operations against the ar- 
 my of Gen. Burgoyne. 
 
 Having received no acknowledgment, nor even civility, for 
 •aiding to decorate him with laurels in the north, he frankly de- 
 clared, that there were no considerations, except of a public- 
 nature, that could induce him to co-operate in his campaigns to 
 the south. "Motives of public good might influence him; be- 
 cause his country had a claim on him, in any quarter, where he 
 could promote her interest ; but personal attachment must not be 
 expected to exist, where he had experienced nothing but neglect 
 and injustice." 
 
 The two officers parted, mutually dissatisfied: the one on ac- 
 count of past treatment, the other of the recent interview. 
 
 In the course of a (ew weeks afterward, congress having pro- 
 moted Col. Morgan to the rank of brigadier-general, by brevet, 
 with a view to avail themselves of his services in the south, he 
 proceeded without delay to join the army of Gen. Gates. But 
 he was prevented from serving any length of time under that 
 officer, by his defeat near Camden, before his arrival; and his 
 
DANIEt MORGAN. 2l^" 
 
 being soon afteward superceded in command by Gen. Greene.* 
 Soon after taking command of the southern army, General 
 Greene despatched Gen. Morgan with four hundred continent 
 tals, under Col. Howard, Col. Washington's corps of dragoons, 
 and a few militia, amounting in all to about six hundred, to take 
 position on the left of the British army, then lying at Winnsbo- 
 rough, under Lord Cornwallis, while he took post about seven- 
 ty miles to his right. This judicious disposition excited his 
 Lordship's apprehensions for the safety of Ninety-six, and Au- 
 gusta, British posts, which he considered as menaced by the. 
 movements of Morgan. 
 
 Col. Tarleton, with a strong detachment, amounting in horse 
 and foot to near a thousand men, was immediately despatched by 
 Cornwallis to the protection of Ninety-Six, with orders to bring 
 Gen. Morgan, if possible, to battle. To the ardent temper and 
 chivalrous disposition of the British colonel, this direction was 
 perfectly congenial. Greatly superior in numbers, he advanced 
 on Morgan with a menacing aspect, and compelled him, at first, 
 to fall back rapidly. But the retreat of the American com- 
 mander was not long continued. Irritated by pursuit, reinforced 
 by a body of militia, and reposing great confidence in the spirit 
 and firmness of his regular troops, he halted at the Cowpens, and 
 determined to gratify his adversary, in his eagerness for combat. 
 This was on the night of the sixteenth of January, 1781. Early 
 in the morning of the succeeding day, Tarleton being apprised 
 of the situation of Morgan, pressed towards him with a re- 
 doubled rapidity, lest, by renewing his retreat, he should again 
 elude him. 
 
 But Morgan now had other thoughts than those of flight. 
 Already had he, for several days, been at war with himself in 
 relation to his conduct. Glorying in action, his spirit recoiled 
 from the humiliation of retreat, and his resentment was roused 
 by th£ insolence of pursuit. This mental conflict becoming 
 more intolerable to him than disaster or death, his courage tri- 
 umphed perhaps over his prudence, and he resolved on putting 
 every thing to the hazard of the sword. 
 
 *° Life of Greene. 
 
920 DANIEL MORGAN. 
 
 By military men, who have studied the subject, his disposition 
 for battle is said to have been masterly. Two light parties of 
 militia were advanced in front, with orders to feel the enemy 
 as they approached ; and preserving a desultory, well-aimed firej 
 as they fell back to the front line, to range with it. and renew 
 the conflict. The main bod) of the militia composed this line, 
 with Gen. Pickens at its head. At a suitable distance in the 
 rear of the first line, a second was stationed composed of the 
 continental infantry, and two companies of Virginia militia, 
 commanded by Col. Howard. Washington's cavalry, rei nforced 
 with a company of mounted militia, armed with sabres, was held 
 in reserve. 
 
 Posting himself, then, in the line of the regulars, he waited 
 in silence the advance of the enemy. 
 
 Tarleton coming in sight, hastily formed his disposition for 
 battle, and commenced the assault. Of this conflict, the fol- 
 lowing picture is from the pen of Gen. Lee: — 
 
 "The American light parties quickly yielded, fell back, and 
 arrayed with Pickens. The enemy shouting, rushed forward 
 upon the front line, which retained its station, and poured in a 
 close fire; but continuing to advance with the bayonet on our 
 militia, they retired, and gained, with haste, the second line. 
 Here, with part of the corps, Pickens took post on Howard's 
 right, and the rest fled to their horses, probably with orders to 
 remove them to a further distance. Tarleton pushed forward, 
 and was received by his adversary with unshaken firmness. 
 The contest became obstinate; and each party, animated by 
 the example of its leader, nobly contended for victory. Our 
 line maintained itself so firmly, as to oblige the enemy to order 
 up his reserve. The advance of M'Arthur reanimated the 
 British line, which again moved forward, and, outstretching 
 our front, endangered Colonel Howard's right. This officer 
 instantly took measures to defend his flank, by directing bis 
 right company to change its front; but, mistaking this 6rder, 
 the company fell back ; upon which the line began to retire, and 
 General Morgan directed it to retijeat to the cavalry. This 
 manoeuvre being performed with precision, our flank became 
 
 &*.''',i 
 
DANIEL MORGAN. 221 
 
 relieved, and the new position was assumed with promptitude. 
 Considering this retrogade movement the precursor of flight, 
 the British line rushed on with impetuosity and disorder; but as 
 it drew near, Howard faced about, and gave it a close and mur- 
 derous fire. Stunned by this unexpected shock, the most 
 advanced of the enemy recoiled in confusion. Howard seized 
 the happy moment, and followed his advantage with the bayo- 
 net. This decisive step gave us the day. The reserve having 
 been brought near the line, shared in the destruction of our fire, 
 and presented no rallying point to the fugitives. A part of the 
 enemy's cavalry, having gained our rear, fell on that portion of 
 the militia who had retired to their horses. Washington struck 
 at them with his dragoons, and drove them before him. Thus, 
 by a simultaneous effort, the infantry and cavalry of the enemy 
 were routed. Morgan pressed home his success, and the pursuit 
 became vigorous and general." 
 
 "In this decisive battle we lost about seventy men, of whom 
 twelve only were killed. The British infantry, with the excep- 
 tion of the baggage guard, were nearly all killed or taken. 
 One hundred, including ten officers, were killed; twenty-three 
 officers and five hundred privates were taken. The artillery, 
 eight hundred muskets, two standards, thirty-five baggage wag- 
 ons, and one hundred dragoon horses, fell into our possession." 
 
 In this battle, so glorious to the American arms, Tarleton had 
 every advantage, in point of ground, cavalry, and numbers, 
 aided by two pieces of artillery. 
 
 Soon after this brilliant exploit, frequent attacks of rheuma- 
 tism compelled Gen. Morgan to retire from the army, and he 
 returned to his seat in Frederick, Virginia, where he continued 
 in retirement, until the insurrection in the western part of 
 Pennsylvania, in 1794, when he was detached by the executive 
 of Virginia, at the head of the militia quota of that state, to 
 suppress it. This done, he returned into the bosom of hi? 
 family, where he remained until death closed his earthly career, 
 in 1799. 
 
 " There existed in the character of Gen. Morgan a singular 
 contradiction, which is worthy of notice. 
 
222 THOMAS MIFFLIN. 
 
 Although, in battle, no man was ever more prodigal of the 
 exposure of his person to danger, or manifested a more delib- 
 erate disregard of death, yet, so strong was his love of life, at 
 other times, that he has been frequently heard to declare, " he 
 would agree to pass half his lime as a galley-slave, rather than 
 quit this world for another." 
 
 • The following outline of his person and character, is from the 
 pen of a military friend, who knew him intimately. 
 
 "Brigadier-General Morgan was stout and active, six feet in 
 height, strong, not too much encumbered with flesh, and was 
 exactly fitted for the toils and pomp of war. His mind was 
 discriminating and solid, but not comprehensive and combining. 
 His manners plain and decorous, neither insinuating nor repul- 
 sive. His conversation grave, sententious, and considerate, 
 unadorned, and uncaptivating. He reflected deeply, spoke 
 little, and executed, with keen perseverance, whatever he 
 undertook. He was indulgent in his military command, prefer- 
 ring always the affections of his troops, to that dread and awe 
 which surround the rigid disciplinarian." 
 
 A considerable time before his death, when the pressure of 
 infirmity began to be heavy, he became seriously concerned 
 about his future welfare. From that period, his chief solace 
 lay in the study of the Scriptures, and in devotional exercises. 
 He died in the belief of the truths of Christianity, and in fuR 
 communion with the Presbyterian Church." * 
 
 * 
 
 THOMAS MIFFLIN, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 -"Thomas Mifflin, a major-general in the American army 
 during the revolutionary war, and governor of Pennsylvania, 
 was born in the year 1744, of parents who were Quakers. His 
 education was intrusted to the care of the Rev. Dr. Smith, with 
 whom he was connected in habits of cordial intimacy and friend- 
 
 * Life of Greene. 
 
 
THOMAS MIFFLIN. 223 
 
 ship, for more than forty years. Active and zealous, he enga- 
 ged early in opposition to the measures of the British parlia- 
 ment. He was a member of the first congress in 1774. He 
 took arms, and was among the first officers commissioned on the 
 organization of the continental army, being appointed quarter- 
 master-general in August, 1765. For this offence he was read 
 out of the society of Quakers. In 1777, he was very useful 
 in animating the militia, and enkindling the spirit, which seemed 
 to have been damped. His sanguine disposition and his ac- 
 tivity, rendered him insensible to the value of that coolness and 
 caution, which were essential to the preservation of such an 
 army, as was then under the command of Gen. Washington* 
 In 1787, he was a member of the convention, which framed the 
 constitution of the United States, and his name is affixed to that 
 instrument. In October, 1788, he succeeded Franklin as presi- 
 dent of the supreme executive council of Pennsylvania, in 
 which station he continued till October 1790. In September a 
 constitution for this 6tate was formed by a convention, in which 
 he presided, and he was chosen the first governor. In 1794, 
 during the insurrection in Pennsylvania, he employed, to the 
 advantage of his country, the extraordinary powers of elocu- 
 tion, with which he was endowed. The imperfection of the 
 militia laws was compensated by his eloquence. He made a 
 circuit through the lower counties, and, at different places, 
 publicly addressed the militia on the crisis in the affairs of their 
 country, and through his animating exhortations, the state fur- 
 nished the quota required. He was succeeded in the office of 
 governor by Mr. IVTKean, at the close of the year 1799, and he 
 died at Lancaster, January 20, 1800, in the 57th year of his 
 age. He was an active and zealous patriot, who had devoted 
 much of his life to the public service."* 
 
 * Amcr. Biog. Dictionary. 
 
(224) 
 
 RICHARD MONTGOMERY, 
 
 Major-Gcneral in the American Array* 
 
 Gen. Montgomery, whose premature death under the walls 
 of Quebec, robbed the American army of one of its brightest 
 ornaments, was born in the north of Ireland, in the year 1737. 
 
 He possessed an excellent genius, which was matured by a 
 fine education. Entering the army of Great Britain, he success- 
 fully fought her battles with Wolfe, at Quebec, in 1759, and on 
 the very spot where he was doomed to fall, when fighting against 
 her, URder the banners of freedom. After his return to Eng- 
 land, he quitted his regiment in 1772, though in a fair way to 
 preferment. 
 
 He had imbibed a strong attachment to America, and view- 
 ing it as the rising seat of science and freedom,' resolved upon 
 transferring to her his allegiance. After his arrival in this 
 country, he purchased an estate in New- York, about one hun- 
 dred miles from the city, and married a daughter of Judge 
 Livingston. He now considered himself as an American. 
 
 Connected with one of the first families in New- York, happy 
 in the highest enjoyment of domestic felicity, he was led by 
 principle to cpjit the occupations of rural life; and animated 
 with an ardent zeal for the cause of human nature, the liberties 
 of mankind and the glory of America, both his active life, and 
 his heroic death, verified his last expression to his amiable lady — 
 " You shall never blush for your Montgomery." 
 
 At the commencement of the struggle with Great Britain, 
 the command of the continental forces in the northern depart- 
 ment was intrusted to him and General Schuyler, in the fall of 
 1775. 
 
 "While the British army was cooped up in Boston, without 
 the power of much annoyance to the surrounding country, the 
 congress conceived the design of sending a force into Canada, 
 for the purpose of putting a stop to the preparations which it 
 
RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 225 
 
 was known that Gen. Carleton, the governor of that province 
 was making, for aiding his majesty's forces on this side of the 
 Lakes. For this purpose, Generals Schuyler and Montgomery, 
 with two regiments of New- York militia, and a body of New- 
 Englandmen, amounting in the whole to about two thousand 
 men were ordered to move towards Ticonderoga, which had 
 remained in possession of the Americans, since the expedition 
 of Colonels Arnold and Alien. Gen. Schuyler being detained 
 at Albany, Montgomery proceeded alone to Crown Point, where 
 he received intelligence that several armed vessels, which lay at 
 the fort of St. John's, were preparing to enter the Lake Cham- 
 plain, for the purpose of impeding the passage oC his troops. 
 This determined him, though not more than half of his troops 
 had arrived, to cross over to the Isle aux JVoix, at the entrance 
 of the Sorel, and thus blockade the vessels which lay in 
 that river. He had scarcely succeeded in this design, before 
 he was joined by Gen. Schuyler; and it was determined, after 
 publishing a declaration to the Canadians, setting forth their 
 friendly intentions toward them, to proceed immediately against 
 the fort of St. John's. With this view, they proceeded with 
 their battcaux for a few miles down the Sorel, and landed on 
 a swampy ground, through which with great difficulty they 
 marched to within two miles of the fort. Here they were sud- 
 denly attacked by a party of Indians, which, after a smart skir- 
 mish, they dispersed with a trifling loss, and continued their 
 march; but upon coming within view of the fort, and seeing its 
 strength, Gen. Schuyler, whose force did not amount to a thou- 
 sand men, thought it prudent to return to the Isle aux Noix, 
 without attempting its reduction. The general, being then 
 obliged to return to Albany, to settle a treaty with the Indians,, 
 left the command solely to Montgomery; and never was there a 
 general better qualified for the duties which now devolved upon 
 him. It was absolutely necessary, before he could go against 
 Montreal, that the fort of St. John's should be reduced. It was 
 well provided, and strongly garrisoned. 
 
 The supply of ammunition with which Gen. Montgomery was 
 provided was much too small to render an immediate siege of 
 29 
 
£#> RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 
 
 St. John's prudent ; and he would probably have been compelled 
 to remain inactive until too late in the season to effect his 
 object, but for the information of some Canadians, that the little 
 fortress of Chamblcc, which was but feebly garrisoned, contained 
 a good store of that article. He accordingly made himself 
 master of that place, and, to his great satisfaction found one 
 hundred and twenty barrels of powder, besides a large quantity 
 of other military stores and provisions. The expedition against 
 this fortress was conducted by Majors Brown and Livingston. 
 They found here the standard of the 7th regiment, which was 
 immediately sent to the congress. 
 
 Gen. Montgomery being thus enabled to carry on the siege 
 of St. John's proceeded to erect his works, and to prepare for a 
 general assault. Gen. Carle ton in the mean time, hearing of 
 the situation of St. John's, prepared to raise a force for its relief. 
 He had posted Col. M'Lean, with a regiment of Scotch emi- 
 grants, at the mouth of the Sorel; and having raised about a 
 thousand men at Montreal, he attempted to cross at Longueil 
 for the purpose of forming a junction, and marching for the 
 relief of St. John's. But Col. Ward, who was stationed at 
 Longueil, with three hundied Green Mountain Bojs, and a 
 small piece of artillery, kept up so warm a fire upon their boats, 
 that the general was glad to return to Montreal. 
 
 When the news of this repulse reached Montgomery, he sent 
 a flag to Major Preston, who commanded the besieged fortress, 
 summoning him to surrender; as all hope of relief was cut off 
 by Carleton's repulse, and a farther resistance could only lead 
 to an useless waste of lives. Major Preston solicited a few 
 days to consider the proposal, being still impressed with the 
 hope that Gen. Carleton might be able to come to his assistance: 
 but upon his request being refused, he accepted the honorable 
 terms of capitulation, which Gen. Montgomery offered to him, 
 and surrendered his garrison prisoners of war. The British 
 officers spoke highly of the polite regard and attention shown 
 to them by Montgomery, who permitted them to wear their 
 swords, and to take off all their baggage and effects. The fort 
 surrendered on the 3d of November." * 
 
 * Allen's Revolution. 
 
RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 227 
 
 On the 12th he took Montreal, the British General Carleton 
 having abandoned the town to its fate, and made his escape 
 down the river, in the night, in a small canoe with muffled oars. 
 Montgomery thus obtained possession of all the naval force of 
 the river, consisting of eleven armed vessels. 
 
 "Many circumstances combined to render the situation of Gen. 
 Montgomery, though a conqueror, extremely unpleasant. The 
 season was far advanced, and the severities of* the climate indu- 
 ced many of his men to desert — the time for which many others 
 were enlisted was about to expire; and few were willing to 
 encounter the hardships of a long march through the deep 
 snows of December. Nothing but personal attachment to the 
 noble character of their commander could have kept a single 
 regiment together. After new clothing all his men at Montreal 
 and rendering them in other respects as comfortable as the 
 magazines there would admit of; and having taken the necessary 
 measures to ensure a supply of provisions on the march, the 
 general pushed on through every difficulty, and joined Arnold, 
 who had marched through the wilderness, and arrived before 
 Quebec a short time previous, on the 1st of December. His 
 appearance was a source of great joy to the Colonel's troops, 
 as he had not forgotten to bring with him a store of such supplies 
 as he knew them to want. 
 
 Montgomery lost no time after his arrival in preparing for an 
 immediate attack. The whole of his force did not amount to 
 more than the troops of the garrison; but he attempted by 
 assuming an appearance of greater strength to weaken the 
 confidence of the latter, and thereby accomplish his object 
 without bloodshed. For this purpose, on the 5th of December, 
 he addressed a letter to the governor, in which he urged him 
 by every argument calculated to produce an effect upon his 
 humanity or his fears, to spare his garrison the dreadful conse- 
 quences of a storm by an immediate surrender. Gen. Carleton, 
 however, was too old a soldier to Be deceived by appearances — 
 he knew the difficulties under which Montgomery labored, and 
 was convinced that if his garrison could hold out for a few days, 
 the climate would compel the provincials (o abandon the siege; 
 
228 RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 
 
 Montgomery's messenger was fired at, and all communication 
 
 forbidden. In this situation Gen. Montgomery commenced a 
 bombardment from five small mortars, which he kept up for 
 several days, with the hope of throwing the garrison into con- 
 fusion. But it seemed to produce no effect — a battery of six 
 guns was next opened upon them at the distance of seven hun- 
 dred yards, with no better success. The garrison remained 
 insensible to any impressions of alarm. 
 
 Gen. Montgomery now found himself under circumstances 
 much more delicate and embarrassing, than those which had, 
 sixteen years before, environed the hero Wolfe at the same 
 spot. Several feet of snow covered the ground — his troops had 
 undergone every hardship, that it was possible' to suffer, and it 
 seemed now almost impossible for human nature to endure more. 
 He had arrived before Quebec a conqueror, his fame had 
 reached his countrymen and his commander at Cambridge, and 
 they would expect a continuance of success. He remembered 
 moreover his parting words to the beloved partner of his bosom: 
 "you shall never blush for your Montgomery," he had said, 
 when he gave her the last embrace. While these feelings and 
 recollections were alternately elevating and depressing his 
 noble spirit, he made a desperate resolution to attempt the 
 enemy's works by escalade. And such was the skill with which 
 his plan had been formed, that no doubt can remain, that he 
 would ultimately have succeeded, had not his whole scheme 
 been communicated to the garrison by some scoundrels who 
 deserted him at this critical moment. 
 
 Montgomery soon perceived that the garrison were prepared; 
 and it became necessary to change his whole plan of operations. 
 Having disposed his army into four divisions, two of which he 
 intended should make feigned attacks, while Arnold and him- 
 self should be engaged in two real attacks upon two opposite 
 sides, before daylight on the 31st of December, in a thick fall 
 of snow, Montgomery advanced at the head of the New- York 
 ers. Here again his fate resembled Wolfe's, for before he could 
 reach the place from whence he intended to commence the 
 attack, the signal had been given through mistake, and the 
 
RICHARD MONTGOMERY. ^2<J 
 
 whole garrison were alarmed. It was too late now to make 
 another change in the plan of attack, and Montgomery pushed 
 on — he was compelled to advance through a narrow path 
 between a precipice and overhanging rocks — he had seized and 
 passed the first barrier, and was boldly advancing toward the 
 second, with a few of his bravest companions, when a discharge 
 of grape shot from the cannon that were placed there, stopped 
 the progress of this brave and excellent officer, and destroyed 
 the hopes of the enterprise. Upon the fall of the general, the 
 officer upon whom the command of his party devolved, retired 
 without making any attempt to pursue the advantages already 
 gained. Some of his bravest officers had shared the glorious 
 destiny of Montgomery, or Quebec must have fallen to the united 
 efforts of this party and that under Arnold."* 
 
 In accordance with the concerted plan, " Arnold advanced 
 with the utmost intrepidity against the battery in the other 
 quarter of the city. The alarm was immediately given, and 
 the fire on his flank commenced, which, however, did not prove 
 very destructive. As he approached the barrier he received a 
 musket-ball in his leg, which shattered the bone, and was carried 
 off the field to the hospital. Morgan rushed forward to the 
 battery, at the head of his company, and received from one of 
 the pieces, almost at its mouth, a discharge of grape shot, which 
 killed only one man. A few rifles were immediately fired into 
 the embrasures, by which a British soldier was wounded in the 
 head, and the barricade being instantly mounted, with the aid 
 of ladders, brought by his men on their shoulders, the battery 
 was deserted without discharging the other gun. The captain 
 of the guard, with the greater number of his men, fell into the 
 hands of the Americans, and the others made their escape. 
 
 Morgan formed the troops, consisting of his own company, 
 and a few bold individuals who had pressed forward from other 
 par's of the division, in the streets within the barrier, and took 
 into custody several English and Canadian burghers; but his 
 situation soon became extremely critical. He was not followed 
 by the main body of the division; he had no guide, and was 
 
 y- — . - , . . . — . _ i, » ■' ' ' ■ • 
 
 * Allen's Revolution. 
 
230 RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 
 
 himself, totally ignorant of the situation of the town. It was 
 yet dark; and he had not the slightest knowledge of the course 
 to be pursued, or of the defences to be encountered. Thus 
 circumstanced, it was thought unadvisable to advance further. 
 
 As the glow, produced by immense exertion, gave way to the 
 cold, which was so intense that they were covered wifh icicles, 
 and as the ardor, excited by action, subsided, when they were 
 no longer engaged, even this daring party became less animated. 
 Whilst waiting in total ignorance of the fate of the residue of 
 the division, the darkness of the night, the fury of the storm, 
 the scattering fire still kept up by the enemy, principally in their 
 rear, the paucity of their numbers, and the uncertainty con- 
 cerning their future operations visibly affected them. It was, 
 after some deliberation determined to maintain their ground, 
 while Morgan should return to the barrier they had passed, for 
 the purpose of bringing up the troops who were supposed to be 
 still on the other side of it. 
 
 They were soon joined by lieutenant-colonel Greene, and 
 Majors Bigelow and Meiggs, with several fragments of compa- 
 nies, so as to constitute, altogether, about two hundred men. 
 
 As the light of day began to appear, this small but gallant 
 party was again formed, with Morgan's company in front; and 
 with one voice, they loudly called on him to lead them against 
 the second barrier, which was now known to be less than forty 
 paces from them, though concealed by an angle of the street 
 from their immediate view. Seizing the {ew ladders brought 
 with them, they again rushed on to the charge, and on turning 
 the angle, were hailed by captain, or lieutenant Anderson, who 
 was just issuing with a body of troops through the gate of the 
 barricade, for the purpose of attacking the Americans, whom 
 he had expected to find dispersed, and probably plundering the 
 town. Morgan, who was in the front, answered his challenge by 
 a ball through his head, and as he fell, he was drawn within the 
 barricade and the gate closed upon the assailants, who received 
 at the same instant a tremendous fire from the windows overlook- 
 ing the barrier, and from the port-holes through it. Ladders 
 were immediately placed against the barricade, and for some 
 
RiCHARD MONTGOMERY. SS'l 
 
 time a fierce contest was maintained, which, on the part of the 
 assailants, was also a bloody one. A few of the bolder, among 
 the front tiles, ascended the ladders under this deadly fire; and 
 saw on the other side of the barricade, double ranks of soldiers, 
 who, with their muskets planted on the ground, presented 
 hedges of bayonets to receive them if they should attempt to 
 leap to the earth. Exposed thus, in a narrow street, to a most 
 galling fire, many of the assailants threw themselves into the 
 stone-houses on each side, which afforded them a shelter both 
 from the storm, and from the enemy; and through the windows 
 of which they kept up an irregular and not very effective tire. 
 One circumstance which greatly contributed to the irresolution 
 now displaying itself, was that scarcely more than one in ten of 
 their fire-arms could be used. Notwithstanding the precaution 
 of tying handkerchiefs around the locks, the violence of the 
 storm had totally unfitted them for service. Morgan soon 
 found himself at the barrier with only a few officers and a small 
 number of soldiers. Yet he could not prevail on himself to 
 relinquish the enterprise. With a voice louder than the tem- 
 pest, he called on those who were sheltered in the houses, to 
 come forth and scale the barrier; but he called in vain; neither 
 exhortations nor reproaches could draw them in sufficient num- 
 bers to the point of attack. Being at length compelled to relin- 
 quish all hope of success, he ordered the few brave men who 
 still adhered to him to save themselves in the houses, while he, 
 accompanied only by Lieut. Heth, returned towards the first 
 barrier, in order to concert with the field officers some plan for 
 drawing off the troops. He soon met Majors Bigelow and 
 Meiggs, to whom he proposed an immediate retreat by the 
 same route along which they had marched to the attack. This 
 proposition was assented to, and Lieut. Heth was despatched 
 to draw the troops from their present situation."* 
 
 " In Montgomery, the Americans lost one of the bravest and 
 most accomplished generals that ever led an army to the field. 
 But he was not more illustrious for his skill and courage as an 
 officer than he was estimable for his private virtues. He pos.- 
 
 * Marshall's Washington.. 
 
232 RICHARD MONTGOMERY 
 
 messed a mind adorned with every accomplishment, and a per 
 son in which every manly grace shone with conspicuous lustre. 
 
 His was 
 
 .•r 
 "A combination, and a form indeed, 
 
 Where every God did seem to set Lis seal, 
 
 To give the world assurance of a man." 
 
 Gen. Montgomery had borne the commission of a Colonel in 
 the war of 1759, and was fighting by the side of Wolfe, when 
 that Spartan hero fell. His bravery and his worth were then 
 acknowledged by the British army, and they were proud to 
 regard him as a friend and brother; but notwithstanding the 
 many professions of attachment and esteem for his character, 
 his body would have been thrown with the heap of slain, uncof- 
 fined and unmarked, into the same indiscriminate pit, but for 
 the lieutenant-governor; who, urged by the solicitations of the 
 lady whom he afterward married, reluctantly procured a coffin 
 of the roughest sort, and thus apart from the rest, buried his 
 former friend and companion in arms. — From this spot, after 
 mouldering in the grave for more than forty-two years, the bones 
 of this gallant soldier were removed by his fellow-citizens of 
 New- York, and deposited in a tomb more worthy of him. 
 
 The resemblance in the character, conduct, and destiny of 
 Wolfe and Montgomery, is too striking to be passed over without 
 a remark. Montgomery had been in some measure the pupil of 
 Wolfe; under his guidance he had learnt the first rudiments of 
 war; and in his career of glory, he saw an example worthy of 
 imitation. We have seen the difficulties under which Wolfe 
 had to struggle, and we have seen the noble daring which led 
 him, perhaps against the suggestions of prudence, to attempt to 
 surmount them. He lived, as he expressed himself, but to 
 fight Montcalm on equal ground — this accomplished he had 
 consummated the only object of his existence, and died "con- 
 tent." Wolfe was fighting for his king, under the orders of his 
 ministry, and here lies the striking difference in the lives and 
 fortunes of these heroes. Montgomery entered on the expedi- 
 tion with the name of rebel. He ventured his fame, his charac- 
 ter, his life, in the service of revolted colonies — but it was to 
 
RICHARD MONTGOMERY. 233 
 
 secure 10 these colonies the enjoyment of liberty under the 
 rights of the constitution. For this he sacrificed the tender 
 endearments of conjugal felicity, and at the head of an undis- 
 ciplined body of men, placed himself in opposition to a Veteran 
 general. The skill which he displayed was equal to the forti- 
 tude which such an enterprise demanded. He had not only to 
 contend against a formidable enemy, but against the severities 
 of a climate to which none of his men were accustomed. His 
 having in one night constructed a battery of ?'ce, will at once 
 show his military skill and industry, and the intense coldness of 
 the climate. With a discontented, starving and mutinous army, 
 he pushed boldly forward in search of that victory which had 
 cheered the parting moments of Wolfe. But destiny had marked 
 a different course for him; death arrested his steps too soon. 
 He was cut off in the onset, and none was left to follow the plan 
 which he had marked out — his last sigh was embittered by anti- 
 cipated defeat. 
 
 Victory brings its own lustre ; and when she entwines her 
 garlands around the head of an insensate corpse, they seem from 
 that single circumstance to display a lovelier verdure: death 
 gives a more touching interest, a deeper pathos to the fate of the 
 hero — the million will admire, and posterity will always ap- 
 plaud. But how does the tragedy deepen when the hero ex- 
 pires on the field of battle, surrounded not by the beams of vic- 
 tory, but by the darkness of defeat. He sees nothing to cheer 
 his parting moments — nothing in anticipation but public obloquy, 
 and that reproach which seems inseparable from want of success. 
 This reproach and this obloquy did pursue the shade of Mont- 
 gomery : his heroism was stigmatised with the character of rash- 
 ness — of insanity. But let it be remembered, that nothing but 
 the difference of a few hours in the term of his life prevented 
 that victory which consecrated the same rashness in Wolfe, and 
 impressed upon it the character of glory. 
 
 The turn of a die decides the fate of an army ; and the same 
 tiling is desperation in one, or the highest effort of military skill 
 in another, according as defeat or success shall attend the enter- 
 prise. Posterity, that looks at the records of history unbiassed. 
 30 
 
 Jfe' 
 
.234 WILLIAM MOULTRIE 
 
 will observe no difference in the merits of Wolfe and Montgom- 
 ery. They were both heroes — both entitled to the chaplet of 
 /mmortal fame."* 
 
 To express the high sense entertained by his country of his 
 services, congress directed a monument of white marble to be 
 erected, with the following inscription ; which was placed in front 
 of St. Paul's Church, New York: 
 
 THIS MONUMENT 
 
 was erected by order of 
 
 Congress, 25th January, 1776, 
 
 to transmit to posterity a grateful 
 
 remembrance of the 
 
 PATRIOTISM, CONDUCT, ENTERPRISE AND PERSEVERANCE 
 
 of Major-general 
 RICHARD MONTGOMERY, 
 
 who, after a series of 
 
 successes, amidst the most 
 
 discouraging difficulties, fell 
 
 in the attack on 
 
 Quebec, 
 
 31st December, 1775, 
 
 aged 39 years. 
 
 The remains of Gen. Montgomery, after resting 42 years at 
 
 Quebec, by the resolve of the state of New York, were brought 
 
 to the city of New York, on the 8th of July, 1818,anddeposted 
 
 with ample form, and grateful ceremonies, near the aforesaid 
 
 monument in St. Paul's church. 
 
 WILLIAM MOULTRIE, 
 
 Major-Gcncral in the American Army, 
 
 This gentleman was a citizen of South Carolina, and was a 
 soldier from an early period of his life. At the commencement 
 of the revolution, he was among the foremost to assert the lib- 
 erties of his country; and braved every danger to redress her 
 wrongs. 
 
 * American Revolution. 
 
 *fc 
 
WILLIAM MOULTRIE. 235- 
 
 The scene of his brilliant operations was in South Carolina, 
 dnd his gallant defence of Sullivan's Island, crowned him with 
 immortality. 
 
 "General Lee styled the post at Sullivan's Island, a slaughter 
 pen, denounced its defence, and pronouncing disgrace on the 
 measure should it be persisted in, earnestly requested the presi- 
 dent to order it to be evacuated. 
 
 Happily for the nation, its destinies were at that period gui- 
 ded by that inflexible patriot, John Rutledge, who confidently 
 relying on Moultrie and his intrepid band, heroically replied to 
 Lee, "that while a soldier remained alive to defend it, he would 
 never give his sanction to such an order." The result proved 
 the accuracy of his judgment. The following laconic note was 
 at the same time forwarded to colonel Moultrie. "General Lee 
 wishes you to evacuate the fort. You will not without an order 
 from me. I will sooner cut off my hand than write one."* 
 
 The defence of the pass at Sullivan's Island may be compared 
 with many of the splendid achievements which Grecian elo- 
 quence has rendered illustrious. Impressed with prejudices as 
 strong as Xerxes ever cherished against Greece, the comman- 
 ders of the British forces approached our coast, not to conciliate, 
 but to subdue. Exulting in the supposed superiority of their 
 discipline and valor, they spoke in the language of authority, 
 and would listen to no terms short of unconditional submission. 
 
 On the other hand, the gallant Mou^rie, commanding a corps, 
 formidable only by their boldness and resolution, impatiently- 
 awaited their approach. He was not insensible of the insuffi- 
 ciency of a work hastily constructed, and in every part incom- 
 plete; but considering himself pledged to give a proof to the 
 enemy of American valor, he scorned the disgrace of relinquish- 
 ing the fort he had sworn to defend, and notwithstanding the ad- 
 vice of the veteran Lee, heroically prepared for action. 
 
 Immediately on the approach of the British fleet to the coast, 
 with the evident intention of attacking Charleston, a fort had 
 been constructed on the west end of Sullivan's Island, mounting 
 thirty-two guns, 32'sand 1 8"s. Into this fort, Moultrie and his 
 gallant band threw themselves. 
 
 * Garden's Anecdotes. 
 
236 WILLIAM MOULTRIE. 
 
 "Two fifty gun ships of the enemy, four frigates, several sloops 
 of war, and bomb-vessels, were brought to the attack, which 
 was commenced about eleven o'clock, from one of the bomb 
 vessels. This was soon followed by the guns of all the ships. 
 Four of the vessels dropped anchor within a short distance of 
 the fort and opened their several broadsides. Three others 
 were ordered to take their stations between the end of the 
 island and the city, intending thereby to enfilade the works as 
 well as to cut off the communication with the continent. But 
 in attempting to execute this order, they became entangled with 
 each other on the shoals, and one of the frigates, the Acteon, 
 stuck fast. 
 
 The roar of artillery upon this little fort was incessant, and 
 enough to appal even those who had been accustomed all their 
 lives to the dreadful work of a cannonade. But Moultrie, with 
 his brave Carolinians, seemed to regard it only as a symphony 
 to the grand march <5f independence. They returned the fire 
 with an aim as true and deliberate as though each British ship 
 had been placed as a target for prize shooting, and continued it 
 for several hours until their amunition was expended. The 
 cessation whkh this necessarily occasioned, produced a momen- 
 tary joy in the assailants, who in imagination already grasped 
 the victory which l^d been so hotly disputed — but the renewal 
 of the blaze from the batteries soon convinced them that the 
 struggle was not yet endeu, Another gleam of hope brightened 
 upon the British seamen, whe^, after a dreadful volley, the flag 
 of Moultrie was no longer seen to wave defiance. They looked 
 eagerly and anxiously towards the spot where Clinton, Corn- 
 wallis and Vaughan had landed with the troops, expecting every 
 moment to see them mount the parapets in triumph. But no 
 British troops appeared, and a few moments afterward, tnc stri- 
 ped flag of the colonies once more proudly unfolded to the breeze 
 — the staff had been carried away by a shot, and the flag had 
 fallen on the outside of the works; a brave sergeant of the Car- 
 olina troops, by the name of Jasper, jumped over the wall, 
 eiezed the flag, and fastened it to a sponge staff, mounted the 
 merlon amidst the thunder of the enemy's guns, and fixed it in 
 a conspicuous place. 
 
WILLIAM MOULTRIE. 237 
 
 The ships of the enemy kept up their fire with unsubdued 
 courage, until half past nine o'clock, when the darkness of the 
 night put a stop to the carnage on both sides; and the ships, with 
 the exception of the Acteon, soon after slipped their cables, and 
 dropped down about two miles from the scene of action. The 
 terrible slaughter on board the ships bore melancholy testimony 
 to the bravery of the British seamen. At one time Captain 
 Morris, of the Bristol, was almost the only m;m left upon the 
 quarter-deck. He had received several wounds, but gallantly 
 refused to quit the deck, until no longer able to stand, or give 
 an order. This ship had 1 1 1 killed and wounded. The Experi- 
 ment lost 99 killed and wounded, and among the latter her com- 
 mander, Captain Scott. The Acteon had a lieutenant killed 
 and six men wounded, and the Solebay eight wounded. The 
 whole killed and wounded 225. Sir Peter Parker, and Lord 
 William Campbell, who served as a volunteer, were both 
 wounded. The Americans lost only ten killed, and twenty-two 
 wounded. 
 
 It is impossible to give too much praise to Col. Moultrie and 
 his brave Carolinians, who for more than ten hours sustained the 
 continued tire of upwards of one hundred guns and bombs ; from 
 which in the course of that time were thrown more than ten 
 thousand shot and shells, seven thousand of which were picked 
 up on the next day. 
 
 On the next day a few shot were fired from the garrison at 
 the Acteon, which remained aground, and the crew returned 
 them, but finding it impossible to get her off, they soon set fire 
 to, and abandoned her, leaving the colors flying, the guns loaded, 
 and all their ammunition and stores. In this perilous situation 
 she was boarded by a small party of Americans, who fired three 
 of the guns at their late owners, while the flames were bursting 
 around them, filled their boats with the stores, secured the flag, 
 and had just time to save themselves, when she was blown into 
 the air. 
 
 The fort which had been so gallantly defended by Moultrie, 
 afterward received his name."* 
 
 • Allen's Amcr. Revolution. 
 
238 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 "In 1779, he gained a victory over the British, in the 
 battle near Beaufort. In 1780, he was second in command, in 
 Charleston, during the siege. After the city surrendered, he 
 was sent to Philadelphia. In 1782, he returned, and was repeat- 
 edly chosen governor of the state of South Carolina. 
 
 Notwithstanding his labors, his victories, and public services, 
 however zealous, howevGr glorious, however serviceable, the 
 enemy had the audacity to make choice of him as a fit object 
 to be gained over to them by bribery. His talents, his experi- 
 ence, and enterprise, would be an invaluable acquisition to the 
 enemy, if it could be employed on the continent; and, if it 
 could not be so employed, then the depriving the Americans of 
 him would be of importance nearly as great; it was, in the eyes 
 of a selfish, greedy enemy, highly prooable that a man who had 
 suffered so much in his private property, would listen to a pro- 
 posal which would enable him to go to Jamaica as colonel of a 
 British regiment, the commander of which, Lord Charles Mon- 
 tague, politely offered, as a proof of his sincerity, to quit the 
 command, and serve under him. "No," replied the indignant 
 Moultrie, " not the fee-simple of that valuable island of Jamaica 
 should induce me to part with my integrity." 
 
 This incorruptible patriot died at Charleston, September 27. 
 5 805, in the 76th year of his age."* 
 
 ISRAEL PUTNAM, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 Israel Putnam, who, through a regular gradation of promo- 
 tion, became the senior major-general in the army of the United 
 States, and next in rank to Gen. Washington, was born at Salem* 
 Mass. on the 7th day of January, 1718. 
 
 Courage, enterprise, activity, and perseverance, were the first 
 characteristics of his mind: and his disposition was as frank and 
 generous, as his mind was fearless and independent. Although 
 
 *Am. Biography. 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 230 
 
 he had too much suavity in his nature to commence a quarrel, 
 he had too much sensibility not to feel, and too much honor not 
 to resent, an intended insult. The first time he went to Boston, 
 he was insulted for his rusticity by a boy of twice his size and 
 age: after bearing sarcasms until his patience was worn out, he 
 challenged, engaged, and vanquished his unmannerly antagonist, 
 to the great diversion of a crowd of spectators. While a strip- 
 ling, his ambition was to perform the labor of a man, ai.d to 
 excel in athletic diversions. 
 
 In the year 1739, he removed from Salem to Pomfret, an 
 inland fertile town in Connecticut. Having here purchased a 
 considerable tract of land, he applied himself successfully to 
 agriculture. 
 
 " Our farmer, sufficiently occupied in building a house and 
 barn, felling woods, making fences, sowing grain, planting 
 orchards, and taking care of his stock, had to encounter, in turn, 
 the calamities occasioned by draught in summer, blast in harvest, 
 loss of cattle in winter, and the desolation of his sheepfold by 
 wolves. In one night he had seventy fine sheep and goats killed, 
 besides many lambs and kids w r ounded. This havoc was com- 
 mitted by a she-wolf, which, with her annual whelps, had for 
 several years infested the vicinity. 
 
 This wolf at length became such an intolerable nuisance, that 
 Mr. Putnam entered into a combination with five of his neigh- 
 bors to hunt alternately until they could destroy her. Two, by 
 rotation, were to be constantly in pursuit. It was known that, 
 having lost the toes from one foot by a steel-trap, she made one 
 track shorter than the other. By this vestige the pursuers 
 recognised, in a light snow, the route of this pernicious animal. 
 Having followed her to Connecticut river, and found she had 
 turned back in a direct course toward Pomfret, they immediately 
 returned ; and by ten o'clock the next morning, the blood-hounds 
 had driven her into a den, about three miles distant from the 
 house of Mr. Putnam. The people soon collected, with dogs, 
 guns, straw, fire, and sulphur, to attack the common enemy. 
 With this apparatus several unsuccessful efforts were made to 
 force her from the den. The hounds came back badly wounded, 
 
240 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 and refused to return. The smoke of blazing straw had no 
 effect. Nor did the fumes of burnt brimstone, with which the 
 cavern was filled, compel her to quit the retirement. Wearied 
 with such fruitless attempts, (which had brought the time to 
 ten o'clock at night,) Mr. Putnam tried once more to make his 
 dog enter, but in vain; he proposed to his negro man to go down 
 into the cavern, and shoot the wolf, but (he negro declined the 
 hazardous service. Then it was that the master, angry at the 
 disappointment, and declaring that he was ashamed to have a 
 coward in his family, resolved himself to destroy the ferocious 
 beast, lest she should escape through some unknown fissure of 
 the rock. His neighbors strongly remonstrated against tin 
 perilous enterprise: but he, knowing that wild animals were 
 intimidated by fire, and having provided several strips of birch 
 bark, the only combustible material he could obtain, that would 
 afford light in this deep and darksome cave, prepared for his 
 descent. Having, accordingly, divested himself of his coat 
 and waistcoat, and having a long rope fastened round his legs, 
 by which he might be pulled back at a concerted signal, he 
 entered head foremost, with the blazing torch in his hand. 
 
 The aperture of the den, on the cast side of a very high ledge 
 of rocks, is about two feet square; from thence it descend;- 
 obliquely fifteen feet, then running horizontally about ten more, 
 it ascends gradually sixteen feet towards Us termination. The 
 sides of this subterraneous cavity are composed of smooth and 
 solid rocks, which seem to have been divided from each other 
 by some former earthquake. The top and bottom are also of 
 stone; and the entrance, in winter, being covered with ice, is 
 exceedingly slippery. It is in no place high enough for a man 
 to raise himself upright, nor in any part more than three feci 
 in width. 
 
 Having groped bis passage to the horizontal part of the den, 
 the most terrifying darkness appeared in front of the dim circle 
 of light afforded by his torch. It was silent as the house of 
 death. None but monsters of the desert had ever before 
 explored this solitary mansion of horror. He cautiously pro- 
 ceeded inward, cainc t° t\fB ascent, which he slowly mounted 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 24 i 
 
 on his hands and knees until he discovered the glaring eyeballs 
 of t!te wolf, who was silting at the extremity of the cavern. 
 Si -''ed at the sight of tire, she gnashed her teeth, and gave a 
 sullen growl. As soon as he had made the necessary discovery, 
 he kicked the rope, as a signal for pulling him out. The people 
 at the mouth of the den, who had listened with painful anxiety, 
 hearing the growling of the wolf, and supposing their friend to 
 be in the most imminent danger, drew him forth with such 
 celerity that his shirt was stripped over his head, and his skin 
 se>.f relv lacerated. After he had adjusted his clothes, and 
 Joaded his gun with nine buck shot, holding a torch in 
 one hand, and the musket in the other, he descended the 
 second time. When he drew nearer than before, the wolf, 
 assuming a still more fierce and terrible appearance, howling, 
 rolling her eyes, snapping her teeth, and dropping her head 
 between her legs, was evidently in the* attitude, and on the 
 Yoint of springing at him. At this critical instant he levelled 
 and fired at her head,. Stunned with the shock, and suffocated 
 with the smoke, he immediately found himself drawn out of 
 the cave. But having refreshed himself, and permitted the 
 smoke to dissipate, he went dow n the third time. Once more 
 he came within sight of the wolf, who appearing very passive, 
 he applied the torch to her nose, and perceiving her dead, he 
 took hold of her ears, and then kicking the rope, (still tied 
 round his legs,) the people above, with no small exultation, 
 dragged them both out together."* 
 
 But the time had now arrived, which was to turn the imple- 
 ments of husbandry into weapons of hostility, and to exchange 
 the hunting of wolves, which had ravaged the sheepfolds, for 
 the pursuit of savages, who had desolated the frontiers. Put- 
 nam was about 37 years of age,'whenthe war between England 
 and France broke out in America. In 1755 he was appointed 
 to the command of a company, in the first regiment of provin- 
 cials that was levied by Connecticut. The regiment joined 
 the army at the opening of the campaign, not far distant from 
 Crown Point. 
 
 * Life of Putnam. 
 31 
 
942 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 " Soon after his arrival at camp, be became intimately ac- 
 quainted with the famous part izan .Captain, afterward Major 
 Rogers, with whom he was frequently associated in crossing the 
 wilderness, reconnoitering the enemy's lines, gaining intelli- 
 gence, and taking straggling prisoners, as well as in beating up 
 the quarters, and surprising the advanced pickets of their 
 army. For these operations, a corps of rangers was formed 
 from the irregulars. The first time Rogers and Putnam were 
 detached with a party of these light troops, it was the fortune of 
 the latter to preserve with his own hand, the life of the former, 
 and to cement their friendship with the blood of one of their 
 enemies. 
 
 The object of this . .^edition was to obtain an accurate 
 knowledge of the position and state of the works at Crown 
 Point. It was impracticable to approach with their party near 
 enough for this pujpose, without being discovered. Alone, 
 the undertaking was sufficiently hazardous, on account of the 
 swarms of hostile Indians who infested the woods. Our two 
 partisans, however, left all their men at a convenient distance, 
 with strict orders to continue concealed until their return. 
 Having thus cautiously taken their arrangements, they advanced 
 with the profoundest silence in the evening; and lay during 
 the night contiguous to the fortress. Early in the morning the) 
 approached so close as to be able to give satisfactory informa- 
 tion to the general who had sent them, on the several points to 
 which their attention had heen directed: but Captain Rogers 
 being at a little distance from Captain Putnam, fortuitously 
 met a stout Frenchman, who instantly seized his fusee with one 
 hand, and with the other attempted to stab him, while he called 
 to an adjacent guard for assistance. The guard answered. 
 Putnam, perceiving the imminent danger of his friend, and that 
 ho time was to be lost, or further alarm given by firing, ran 
 rapidly to them while they were struggling, and w ith the butt 
 end of his piece laid the Frenchman dead at his feet. The 
 partisans, to elude pursuit, precipitated their flight, joined the 
 party, and returned without loss to the encampment."* 
 
 * Life of Putnam. 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 343 
 
 • r 
 
 The time -for which the colonial troops engaged to serve ter- 
 minated with the campaign. Putnam was re-appointed, and 
 again took the field in 1756. 
 
 " ^ew are so ignorant of war. as not to know that military 
 adventures in the night, are always extremely liable to acci- 
 dents. Captain Putnam, having been commanded to recon- 
 noitre the enemy's camp at the Ovens near Ticonderoga, took 
 the brave Lieutenant Robert Durkee as his companion. In 
 attempting to execute these orders, he narrowly missed being 
 taken himself in the first instance, and killing his friend in the 
 Second. It was customary for the British and provincial troops 
 to place their fires round their camp, which frequently exposed 
 them to the enemy's scouts and patroles. A contrary practice, 
 then unknown in the English army, prevailed among the French 
 and Indians. The plan was much more rational: they kept 
 their fires in the centre, lodged their men circularly at a dis- 
 tance, and posted their sentinels in the surrounding darkness. 
 Our partisans approached the camp, and supposing the sentries 
 were within the circle of .fires, crept upon their hands and knees 
 with the greatest possible caution, until, to their utter astonish- 
 ment, they found themselves in the thickest of the enemy. 
 The sentinels, discovering them, fired, and slightly wounded 
 Durkee in the thigh. He and Putnam had no alternative. 
 Ti'ev fled. The latter, being foremost, and scarcely able to 
 see his hand before him, soon plunged into a clay pit. Durkee 
 almost at the identical mnme - t, came tumbling after. Putnam 
 by no means pleased at finding a companion, and believing him 
 to he one of the enemy, lifted his tomahawk to give the deadly 
 blow, when Durkee, (who had followed so closely as to know 
 him) inqui r ed whether he had escaped unhurt. Captain Put- 
 nam instantly recognising the voice, dropped his weapon, and 
 both, springing from the pit, made good their retreat to the 
 neighboring ledges, amidst a shower of random shot. There 
 thev betook themselves to a large log, by the side of which they 
 lodged the remainder of the night. Before they lay down, 
 Captain Pulnam said he bad a little rum in hi- canteen, wUch 
 could never be more acceptable or necessary; but on examining 
 
244 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 the canteen, which hung under his arm. he found- the enemy 
 had pierced it with their balls, and that there was not a drop 
 of liquor left. The next day he found fourteen bullet-holes in 
 his blanket."* 
 
 Nothing worthy of remark happened during the course of 
 this campaign, but the active services of Captain Putnam on 
 every occasion attracted the admiration of the public, and 
 induced the legislature of Connecticut to promote him to a 
 majority in 1757. 
 
 "In the winter of 1757, when Col. Haviland was command- 
 ant at Fort Edward, the barracks adjoining to the northwest 
 b'^tion took fire. They extended within twelve feet of the 
 magazine, which contained three barrels of powder. On ite 
 first discovery, the fire raged with great violence. The com- 
 mandant endeavored, in vain, by discharging some pieces of 
 heavy artillery against the supporters of this flight of barracks, 
 to level them with the ground. Putnam arrived from the 
 island where he was stationed at the moment when the blaze 
 approached that end which was contiguous to the magazine. 
 Instantly a vigorous attempt was made to extinguish the confla- 
 gration. • A way was opened by the postern gate to the river, 
 and the soldiers were employed in bringing water; which he, 
 having mounted on a ladder to the eaves of the building, 
 received and threw upon the flame. It continued, notwithstand- 
 ing their utmost efforts, to gain upon them. He stood, envelo- 
 ped in smoke, so near the sheet of fire, that a pair of blanket 
 mittens was burnt entirely from his hands. He was supplied 
 with another pair dipt in water. Colonel Haviland, fearing' 
 that he would perish in the flames, called to him to come down, 
 but he entreated that he might be suffered to remain, since 
 destruction must inevitably ensue if their exertions should be 
 remitted. The gallant commandant, not less astonished than 
 charmed at the boldness of his conduct, forbade any more 
 effects to be carried out of the fort, animated the men to 
 redoubled diligence, and exclaimed, "if we must be blown up,, 
 we will go all together." At last, when the barracks were seen 
 * Life of Putnam. 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 245 
 
 to be tumbling, Putnam descended, placed himself at the inter- 
 val, and continued from an incessant rotation of replenished 
 buckets to pour water upon the magazine. The outside planks 
 were already consumed by the proximity of the fire, and as 
 only one thickness of timber intervened, the trepidation now 
 became general and extreme. Putnam, still undaunted, covered 
 with a cloud of cinders, and scorched with the intensity of the 
 heat, maintained his position until the fire subsided, and the 
 danger was wholly over. He had contended for one hour and 
 and a half with that terrible element. His legs, his thighs, his 
 arms, and his face were blistered ; and when he pulled off his 
 second pair of mittens, the skin from his hands and fingers 
 followed them. It was a month before he recovered. The 
 commandant, to whom his merits had before endeared him, 
 could not stifle the emotions of gratitude due to the man who 
 had been instrumental in preserving the magazine, the fort, 
 and the garrison. 
 
 In the month of August, five hundred men were employed, 
 under the orders of Majors Rogers and Putnam, to watch the 
 motions of the enemy near Tieonderoga. At South Bay they 
 separated the party into two equal divisions, and Rogers took 
 a position on Wood-Creek, twelve miles distant from Putnam. 
 
 Upon being, some time afterward, discovered, they formed a 
 reunion, and concerted measures for returning to Fort Edward. 
 Their march through the woods was in three divisions, by files: 
 the right commanded by Rogers, the left by Putnam, and the 
 centre by Capt. D'Ell. At the moment of moving, the famous 
 French partisan Molang, who had been sent with five hundred 
 men to intercept our party, was not more than one mile and a 
 half distant from them. Major Putnam was just emerging from 
 the thicket, into the common forest, when the enemy rose, and, 
 with discordant yells and whoops, commenced an attack upon 
 the right of his division. Surprised, but undismayed, Putnam 
 halted, returned the fire, and passed the word for the other 
 divisions to advance for his support. D'Ell came. The action, 
 though widely scattered, and principally fought between man. 
 and man, soon grew general, and intensely warm. 
 
246 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 Major Putnam, perceiving it would lie impracticable to cross, 
 the creek in his rear, determined to maintain his ground. In- 
 spired by his example, the ofhVers and men behaved with great 
 bravery: sometimes they fought aggregatelv in open view, 
 and sometimes individually under cover; taking aim from 
 behind the bodies of trees, and acting in a manner, indepen- 
 dent of each other. For himself, having discharged his fusee 
 several times, at length it missed fire, while the muzzle was 
 pressed against the breast of a large and well-proportioned 
 savage. This warrior, availing himself of the indefensible 
 attitude of his adversary, with a tremendous war-whoop, sprang 
 forward, with his lifted hatchet, and compelled him to surren- 
 der; and, having disarmed and bound him fast to a tretw 
 returned to the battle. 
 
 The intrepid Captains, D'Ell and Harman, who now com- 
 manded, were forced to give ground for a little distance: the 
 savages, conceiving this to be the certain harbinger of victory,. 
 rushed impetuously on, with dreadful and redoubled cries. 
 But our two partisans, collecting a handful of brave men, gave 
 the pursuers so warm a reception as to oblige them, in turn, to 
 retreat a little beyond the spot at which the action had com- 
 menced. Here they made a stand. This change of ground 
 occasioned the tree to which Putnam was tied, to be directly 
 between the the fire of the two parties. Human imagination 
 can hardly figure to itself a more deplorable situation. The 
 balls flew incessantly from either side, many struck the tree, 
 while some passed through the sleeves and skirts of his coat. 
 In this state of jeopardy, unable to move his body, to stir his 
 limbs, or even to incline his head, he remained more than an 
 hour. So equally balanced, and so obstinate was the fight! 
 At one moment, while the battle swerved in favor of the enemy, 
 a young savage chose an odd way of discovering his humor. 
 He found Putnam bound — he might have despatched him at 
 a single blow — but he loved better to excite the terrors of the 
 prisoner, by hurling a tomahawk at his head, or rather it should 
 seem his object was to see how near he could threw it without 
 touching him. The weapon struck in the tree a number of 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 247 
 
 iimes, at a hair's breath distance from the mark. When the 
 Indian had finished his amusement, a French bas-officer,a much 
 more inveterate savage by nature, (though descended from so 
 humane and polished a nation,) perceiving Putnam, came up to 
 him, and, levelling a fuese within a foot of his breast, attempted 
 to discharge it — it missed fire. Ineffectually did the intended 
 victim solicit the treatment due to his situation, by repeating 
 that he was a prisoner of war. The degenerate Frenchman 
 did not understai d the language of honor or of nature: deaf to 
 their voice, and dead to sensibility, he violently, and repeatedly, 
 pushed the muzzle of his gun against Putnam's ribs, and finally 
 gave him a cruel blow on the jaw with the butt-end of his 
 piece. After this dastardly deed he left him. 
 
 At length the active intrepidity of D'Ell and Harman, 
 seconded by the persevering valor of their followers, prevailed. 
 They drove from the field the enemy, who left about ninety 
 dead behind them. As they were retiring, Putnam was untied 
 by the Indian who had made him prisoner, and whom he after- 
 ward called master. Having been conducted for some distance 
 from the place of action, he was stripped of his coat, vest, stock- 
 ings, and shoes; loaded with as many of the packs of the 
 wounded as could be piled upon him; strongly pinioned, and 
 his wrists tied as closely together as they could be pulled with 
 a cord. After he had marched through no pleasant paths, in 
 this painful manner, for many a tedious mile, the party (who 
 were excessively fatigued) halted to breathe. His hands were 
 now immoderately swelled from the tightness of the ligature; 
 and the pain had become intolerable. His feet were so much 
 scratched, that the blood dropped fast from them. Exhausted 
 with bearing a burden above his strength, and frantic with tor- 
 ments exquisite beyond endurance, he entreated the Irish inter- 
 preter, to implore, as the last and only grace he desired of the 
 savages, that they would knock him on the head and take his 
 scalp at once, or loose his hands. A French officer, instantly 
 interposing, ordered his hands to be unbound, and some of the 
 packs to be taken off. By this time, the Indian who captured 
 him, and had been absent with the wounded, coming up, gave 
 
248 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 him a pair of mocasons, and expressed great indignation at 
 the unworthy treatment his prisoner had suffered. 
 
 That savage chief again returned to the care of the wounded, 
 and the Indians, about two hundred in number, went before the 
 rest of the party to the place where the whole were that night 
 to encamp. They took with them Major Putnam, on whom, 
 besides innumerable other outrages, they had the barbarity to 
 inflict a deep wound with the tomahawk in the left cheek. His 
 sufferings were, in this place, to be consummated. A scene of 
 horror, infinitely greater than had ever met his eyes before, was 
 now preparing. It was determined to roast him alive. For 
 this purpose, they led him into a dark forest, stripped him naked, 
 bound him to a tree, and piled dry brush, with other fuel, at a 
 small distance, in a circle round him. They accompanied their 
 labors, as if for his funeral dirge, with screams and sounds inim- 
 itable but by savage voices. They then set the piles on fire. 
 A sudden shower damped the rising flame. Still they strove to 
 kindle it, until, at last, the blaze ran fiercely rouud the circle. 
 Major Putnam soon began to feel the scorching heat. 
 
 His hands were so tied that he could move his body. He 
 often shifted sides as the fire approached. This sight, at the 
 very idea of which all but savages must shudder, afforded the 
 highest diversion to his inhuman tormentors, who demonstrated 
 the delirium of their joy by correspondent yells, dances, and 
 gesticulations. He saw clearly that his final hour was inevitably 
 come. He summoned all his resolution, and composed his mind 
 as far as the circumstances could admit, to bid an eternal 
 farewell to all he held most dear. To quit the world would 
 scarcely have cost him a single pa-g; but for the idea of 
 home, but for the remembrance of domestic endearments, 
 of the affectionate partner of his soul, and of their beloved 
 offspring. His thought was ultimately fixed on a happier 
 state of existence, beyond the tortures he was beginning to 
 endure. The bitterness of death, even of that death which is 
 accompanied with the keenest agonies, was, in a manner, past — 
 nature, with a feeble struggle, was quitting its last hold on sub- 
 lunary things, when a French officer rushed through the crowd. 
 
- 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 249 
 
 opened a way by scattering the burning brands, and unbound 
 the victim. It was Molang himself, to whom a savage, unwilling 
 to see another human sacrifice immolated, had run and commu- 
 nicated the tidings. That commandant spurned and severely 
 reprimanded the barbarians whose nocturnal powaws and hellish 
 orgies he suddenly ended. Putnam did not want for feeling of- 
 gratitude. The French commander, fearing to trust him alone 
 with them, remained until he could deliver him in safety into 
 the hands of his master. 
 
 The savage approached his prisoner kindly, and seemed to 
 treat him with particular affection. He offered him some hard 
 biscuit; but finding he could not chew them, on account of the 
 blow he had received from the Frenchman, this more humane 
 savage soaked some of the biscuit in water, and made him suck 
 the pulp-like part. Determined, however, not to lose his cap- 
 tive, (the refreshment being finished,) he took the mocasons from 
 his feet, and tied them to one of his wrists: then directing him 
 to lie down on his back upon the bare ground, he stretched one 
 arm to its full length, and pinioned it fast to a young tree; the 
 other arm was extended and bound in the same manner — his legs 
 were stretched apart and fastened to two saplings. Then a 
 number of tall, but slender poles were cut down, which, with 
 some long bushes, were laid across his body from head to toot: 
 on each side lay as many Indians as could conveniently find 
 lodging, in order to prevent the possibility of his escape. In 
 this disagreeable and painful posture he remained until morning. 
 During this night, the longest and most dreary conceivable, our 
 hero used to relate that he felt a ray of cheerfulness come cas- 
 ually across his mind, and could not even refrain from smiling 
 when he reflected on this ludicrous groupe for a painter, of which 
 he himself was the principal figure. 
 
 The next day he was allowed his blanket and mocasons, and 
 permitted to march without carrying any pack, or receiving any 
 insult. To allay his extreme hunger, a little bear's meat was 
 given, which he sucked through his teeth. At night the party 
 arrived at Ticonderoga,and the prisoner was placed under the 
 care of a French guard. The savages who had been prevented 
 32 
 
25a ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 from glutting their diabolical thirst for blood, took other oppor- 
 tunity of manifesting their malevolence for the disappointment, 
 by horrid grimaces and angry gestures; but they were suffered 
 no more to offer violence or personal indignity to him. 
 
 After having been examined by the Marquis de Montcalm, 
 Major Putnam was conducted to Montreal by a French officer, 
 who ireated him with the greatest indulgence and humanity. 
 
 At this place were several prisoners. Colonel Peter Schuyler, 
 remarkable for his philanthropy, generosity and friendship*, was 
 of the number. No sooner had he heard of Putnam's arrival 
 than he went to the interpreter's quarters, and inquired whether 
 he had a Provincial Major in his custody. He found Major 
 Putnam in a comfortless condition — without coat, waistcoat, or 
 hose — the remnant of his clothing miserably dirty and ragged — 
 his beard long and squalid — his legs torn by thorns and briers — 
 his face gashed by wounds, and swollen with bruises. Colonel 
 Schuyler, irritated beyond all sufferance at such a sight, could 
 scarcely restrain his speech within limits, consistent with the 
 prudence of a prisoner, and the meekness of a christian. Maj. 
 Putnam was immediately treated according to his rank, clothed 
 in a decent manner, and supplied with money by that liberal and 
 sympathetic patron of the distressed. 
 
 The capture of Frontenac by Gen. Bradstreet, afforded oc- 
 casion for an exchange of prisoners. Col. Schuyler was com- 
 prehended in the cartel* A generous spirit can never be satis- 
 fied with imposing tasks for its generosity to accomplish. Ap- 
 prehensive, if it should be known that Putnam was a distin- 
 guished partizan, his liberation might be retarded, and knowing 
 that there were officers, who, from the length of their captivity, 
 had a claim to priority of exchange, he had, by his happy ad- 
 dress, induced the governor to offer, that whatever officer he 
 might think proper to nominate should be included in the present 
 cartel. With great politeness in manner, but seeming indiffer- 
 ence as to object, he expressed his warmest acknowledgments 
 to the governor, and said, — There is an old man here, who is a 
 Provincial Major, and wishes to be at home with his wife and 
 children; he can do no good here or any where elee; I believe 
 

 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 251 
 
 your Excellency had better keep some of the young men, who 
 have no wife nor children to care for, and let the old fellow go 
 home with me. This justifiable finesse had the desired effect.* 
 
 Shortly after, Putnam was promoted to a lieutenant colonel, 
 in which he continued until the close of the war, ever, and on 
 all occasions, supporting his hard earned reputation for valor 
 and intrepidity ; and, at the expiration of ten years from his first 
 receiving a commission, after having seen as much service, en- 
 dured as many hardships, encountered as many dangers, and 
 acquired as many laurels as any officer of his rank, with great 
 satisfaction laid aside his uniform and returned to the plough. 
 
 On the 22d day of March, 1765, the stamp act received the 
 royal assent. Colonel Putnam, was, at this time, a membor of 
 the house of assembly of the state of Connecticut, and was de- 
 puted to wait on the then governor Fitch on the subject. The 
 questions of the governor, and answers of Putnam, will serve 
 to indicate the spirit of the times. After some conversation, 
 the governor asked colonel Putnam "what he should do if the 
 stamped paper should be sent him by the King's authority?'* 
 Putnam replied, "lock it up until we shall visit you again." 
 "And what will you do then?" "We shall expect you to give 
 us the key of the room in which it is deposited; and, if you 
 think fit, in order to secure yourself from blame, you may fore- 
 warn us, upon our peril, not to enter the room." "And what 
 will you do afterward?" "Send it safely back again." "But 
 if I should refuse admission? "In such case, your house will 
 be demolished in five minutes." It is supposed that a report of 
 this conversation was one reason why the stamp paper was never 
 sent from New York to Connecticut. 
 
 Being once, in particular, asked by a British officer, with 
 whom he had formerly served, "whether he did not seriously 
 believe that a well appointed British army of five thousund vet- 
 erans could march through the whole continent of America?" 
 he briskly replied, "no doubt, if they behaved civilly, and paid 
 well for every thing they wanted; but," after a moment's pause, 
 
 Life of Pnl nam. 
 
2o2 ISRAEL PUTNAM". 
 
 added, "if they should attempt it in a hostile manner (though 
 the American men were out of the question,) the women, with 
 their ladles and broomsticks, would knock them all on the head 
 before they had got half way through." 
 
 The battle of Lexington found Putnam in the midst of his 
 agricultural pursuits. Immediately upon learning the fatal re- 
 contre, he left his plough in the middle of the field, unyoked his 
 team, and without waiting to change his clothes, set off for the 
 theatre of action. But finding the British retreated to Boston, 
 and invested. by a sufficient force to watch their movements, he 
 came back to Connecticut, levied a regiment under authority 
 of the legislature, and speedily returned to Cambridge. He 
 was now promoted to be a major-general on the continental 
 establishment. 
 
 "Not long after this period, the British commander-in-chief 
 found the means to convey a proposal, privately, to Gen. Put- 
 nam, that if he would relinquish the rebel party, he might rely 
 upon bein£ made a major-general on the British establishment, 
 and receiving a great pecuniary compensation for his services. 
 Gen. Putnam spurned at the offer; which, however he thought 
 prudent at that time to conceal from public notice." 
 
 " In the battle of Bunker's Hill he exhibited his usual intre- 
 pidity. He directed the men to reserve their fire till the enemy 
 was very near, reminded them of their skill, and told them to 
 take good aim. They did so, and the execution was terrible. 
 After the retreat, he made a stand at Winter Hill, and drove 
 back the enemy under cover of their ships. When the army 
 was organised by Gen. Washington at Cambridge, Putnam was 
 appointed to command the reserve. In August, 1776, he was 
 stationed at Brooklyn, on Long Island. After the defeat of our 
 army on the twenty-seventh of that month, he went to New- 
 York, and was very serviceable in (he city and neighborhood. 
 In October or November he was sent to Philadelphia, to fortify- 
 that city. 
 
 In January, 1777, he was directed to take post at Princeton* 
 where he continued until spring. At this place, a sick prisoner, 
 a captain, requested that a friend in the British army at Brunsr. 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 253 
 
 wick might be sent for to assist him in making his will. Putnam 
 was perplexed. He had but fifty men under his command, and 
 he did not wish to have his weakness known ; yet he was unwil- 
 ling 1o deny the request. He, however, sent a flag of truce, and 
 directed the officer to be brought in the night. In the evening 
 lights were placed in all the college windows, and in every 
 apartment of the vacant houses throughout the town. The 
 officer, on his return, reported that General Putnam's army 
 could not consist of less than four or five thousand men. 
 
 In the spring he was appointed to the command of a separate 
 army, in the highlands of New-York. One Palmer, a lieutenant 
 in the tory new levies, was detected in the camp ; Governor 
 Tryon reclaimed him as a British officer, threatening vengeance 
 if he was not restored. Gen. Putnam wrote the following pithy 
 reply: — "Sir, Nathan Palmer, a lieutenant in your king's ser- 
 vice, was taken in my camp as a spy; he was tried as a spy; 
 he was condemned as a spy; and shall be hanged as a spy. 
 P. S. Afternoon. He is hanged." 
 
 After the Uss of Fort Montgomery, the commander-in-chief 
 determined to build another fortification, and he directed Put- 
 nam to fix upon a spot. To him belongs the praise of having 
 chosen Westpoint."* 
 
 "About the middle of winter, while Gen. Putnam was on a 
 visit to his out-post at Horse-Neck, he found Governor Tryon 
 advancing upon that town with a corps of fifteen hundred men. 
 To oppose these Gen. Putnam had only a picquet of 150 men, 
 and two iron field-pieces, without horses or drag ropes. He, 
 however, planted his cannon on the high ground by the meeting 
 house, and retarded their approach by firing several times, 
 until perceiving the horse (supported by the infantry) about to 
 charge, he ordered the picquet to provide for their safety, 
 by retiring to » swamp inaccessible to horse, and secured his 
 own by plunging down the steep precipice at the church upon 
 a full trot. This precipice is so steep where he descended, as 
 
 * Allen's Biographical Dictionary. 
 
254 ISRAEL PUTNAM. 
 
 lo have artificial stairs, composed of nearly one hundred stone 
 steps, for the accommodation of foot passengers. There the 
 dragoons who were but a sword's length from him stopped 
 short; for the declivity was so abrupt, that they ventured not to 
 follow; and, before they could gain the valley by going round 
 the brow of the hill in the ordinary road, he was far enough 
 beyond their reach. He continued his route, unmolested, to 
 Stamford; from whence, having strengthened his picquet by 
 the junction of some militia, he came back again, and, in turn, 
 pursued Governor Tryon in his retreat. As he rode down the 
 precipice, one ball of the many fired at him, went through his 
 beaver; but Governor Tryon, by way of compensation for 
 spoiling his hat, sent him soon afterward as a present, a com- 
 plete suit of clothes."* 
 
 The campaign of 1779, which was principally spent in 
 strengthening the works at West Point, finished the military 
 career of Putnam. A paralytic affection impaired the activity 
 of his body, and compelled him to quit the army. 
 
 "The remainder of the life of Gen. Putnam was passed in 
 quiet retirement with his family. He experienced few inter- 
 ruptions in his bodily health, (except the paralytic debility with 
 which he was afflicted,) retained full possession of his mental 
 faculties, and enjoyed the society of his friends until the 17th 
 of May, 1790, when he was violently attacked with an inflam- 
 matory disease. Satisfied from the first that it would prove 
 mortal, he was calm and resigned, and welcomed the approach 
 of death with joy, as a messenger sent to call him from a life of 
 toil to everlasting rest. On the 1 9th of May, 1 790, he ended a 
 life which had been spent in cultivating and defending the soil 
 of his birth, aged 72 years." 
 
 The late Rev. Dr. Dwight, president of Yale College, who 
 knew Gen. Putnam intimately, has portrayed his character 
 faithfully in the following inscription, which is engraven on his 
 tomb : 
 
 * Life of Putnam* 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM. 255 
 
 Sacred be this Monument 
 
 to the memory 
 
 of 
 
 ISRAEL PUTNAM, Est*. 
 
 senior Major-General in the armies of the 
 
 United States of America; who 
 
 was born at Salem, 
 
 in the Province of Massachusetts, 
 
 on the 7th day of January, 
 
 A. D. 1718, 
 
 and died 
 
 on the 1 9th day of May, 
 
 A. D. 1790. 
 
 Passenger, 
 
 if thou art a Soldier, 
 
 drop a tear over the dust of a 
 
 Hero, who, ever attentive to the lives 
 
 and happiness of his men, dared to lead where 
 
 any dared to follow; if a patriot, 
 
 remember the distinguished and 
 
 gallant services rendered 
 
 thy country by the 
 
 Patriot who sleeps beneath this 
 
 marble ; 
 
 ff thou art honest, generous, and 
 
 worthy, render a cheerful 
 
 tribute of respect to 
 
 a man, whose 
 
 generosity was singular, whose 
 
 honesty was proverbial j 
 
 who 
 
 raised himself to universal 
 
 esteem, and offices of 
 
 eminent distinction, 
 
 by personal worthy 
 
 «nd a useful 
 
 life. 
 
(256) • 
 
 JOSEPH REED, 
 
 Adjutant-General in the American Army. 
 
 "Joseph Reed, president of the state of Pennsylvania, wap 
 born in the state of New-Jersey, the 27th of August, A. D. 
 1741. In the year 1757, at the early age of sixteen, he gradu- 
 ated with considerable honor, at Princeton college. 
 
 Having studied the law with Richard Stockton, Esq. an emin- 
 ent counsellor of that place; he visited England and pursued 
 his studies in the temple, until the disturbances which first 
 broke out in the colonies on the passage of the stamp act. On 
 his return to his native country, he commenced the practice of 
 the law, and bore a distinguished part in the political commo- 
 tions of the day. Having married the daughter of Dennis De 
 Berdt, an eminent merchant of London, and before the American 
 revolution, agent for the province of Massachusetts, he soon 
 after returned to America, and practised the law with eminent 
 success in the city of Philadelphia. 
 
 Finding that reconciliation with the mother country was not 
 to be accomplished without the sacrifice of honor as well as 
 liberty, he became one of the most zealous advocates of indepen- 
 dence. In 1 774, he was appointed one of the committee of cor- 
 respondence of Philadelphia, and afterward president of the 
 convention, and subsequently, member of the continental con- 
 gress. On the formation of the army he resigned a lucrative 
 practice, which he was enjoying at Philadelphia, and repaired 
 to the ca,mp at Cambridge, where he was appointed aid-de- 
 camp and Secretary to General Washington, and although 
 merely acting as a volunteer, he displayed in this campaign, on 
 many occasions, the greatest courage and military ability. At 
 the opening of the campaign in 1776, on the promotion of Gen. 
 Gates, he was advanced, at the special recommendation of Gen. 
 Washington, to the post of adjutant general, and bore an active 
 part in this campaign, his local knowledge o( the country being 
 
JOSEPH REED. 257 
 
 eminently useful in the affair at Trenton, and at the battle of 
 Princeton: in the course of these events, and the constant fol- 
 lower of his fortunes, he enjoyed the confidence and esteem of 
 the commander-in-chief. At the end of the year he resigned 
 the office of adjutant-general, and was immediately appointed 
 a general officer, with a view to the command of cavalry, but 
 owing to the difficulty of raising troops, and the very detached 
 parties in which they were employed, he was prevented from 
 acting in that station. He still attended the army, and from 
 the entrance of the British army into Pennsylvania, till the close 
 of the campaign in 1777, he was seldom absent. He was enga- 
 ged at the battle of Germantown, and at White Marsh, assisted 
 General Potter in drawing up the militia. In 1778, he was 
 appointed a member of congress, and signed the articles of con- 
 federation. 
 
 About this time the British commissioners, Governor John- 
 stone, Lord Carlisle, and Mr. Eden, invested with power to 
 treat of peace, arrived in America, and Governor Johnstone, 
 the principal of them, addressed private letters to Henry Lau- 
 rens, Joseph Reed, Francis Dana, and Robert Morris, offering 
 them many advantages in case they would lend themselves to 
 his views. Private information was communicated from Gover- 
 nor Johnstone to General Reed, that in case he would exert his 
 abilities to promote a reconciliation, 10,000 pounds sterling, 
 and the most valuable office in the colonies, were at his disposal; 
 to which Mr. Reed made this memorable reply: — "that he was 
 not worth purchasing, but that, such as he was, the King of Great 
 Britain was not rich enough to do it.'''' These transactions 
 caused a resolution in congress, by which they refused to hold 
 any further communication with that commissioner. Governor 
 Johnstone, on his return to England, denied in Parliament, ever 
 having made such offers, in consequence of which, Gen. Reed 
 published a pamphlet, in which the whole transaction was clearly 
 and satisfactorily proved, and which was extensively circulated 
 both in England and America. 
 
 In 1778, he was unanimously elected president of the supreme 
 executive council of the state of Pennsylvania, to which office 
 33 
 
258 JOSEPH REED. 
 
 he was elected annually, with equal unanimity, for the constitu- 
 tional period of three years. About this time there existed 
 violent parties in the state, and several serious commotions 
 occurred, particularly a large armed insurrection, in the city of 
 Philadelphia, which he suppressed, and rescued a number of 
 distinguished citizens from the most imminent danger of their 
 lives at the risk of his own, for which he received a vote of 
 thanks from the legislature of the state. 
 
 At the time of the defection of the Pennsylvania line, Gov- 
 ernor Reed exerted himself strenuously to l?ring back the 
 revolters, in which he ultimately succeeded. Amidst the most 
 difficult and trying scenes, his administration exhibited the most 
 disinterested zeal and firmness of decision. In the civil part of 
 his character, his knowledge of the law was very useful in a new 
 and unsettled government; so that, although he found in it no 
 small weakness and confusion, he left it at the expiration of his 
 term of office, in as much tranquility and energy as could be 
 expected from the time and circumstances of the war. In the 
 year 1781, on the expiration of his term of office, he returned 
 to the duties of his profession. 
 
 General Reed was very fortunate in his military career, for, 
 although he was in almost every engagement in the northern 
 and eastern section of the union, during the war, he never was 
 wounded ; he had three horses killed under him, one at the battle 
 of Brandywine, one in the skirmish at White Marsh, and one at 
 the battle of Monmouth. During the whole of the war he 
 enjoyed the confidence of Generals Washington, Greene, Wayne, 
 Steuben, La Fayette, and many others of the most distinguished 
 characters of the revolution, with whom he was in habits of the 
 most confidential intercourse and correspondence. The friend- 
 ship that existed between General Reed and General Greene, 
 is particularly mentioned by the biographer of General Greene. 
 " Among the many inestimable friends who attached themselves 
 to him, during his military career, there was no one whom 
 General Greene prized more, or more justly, than the late Gov- 
 ernor Reed of Pennsylvania. It was before this gentleman had 
 immortalized himself by his celebrated reply to the agent of 
 
PHILIP SCHUYLER. 259 
 
 > ^F** ■ 
 
 corruption, tl *ese two distinguished patriots had begun to 
 feel for each other the sympathies of congenial souls. Mr. 
 Reed had accompanied General Washington to Boston, when 
 he first took command of the American army; there he became 
 acquainted with Greene, and, as was almost invariably the case 
 with those who Decame acquainted with him, and had hearts to 
 acknowledge his worth, a friendship ensued which lasted with 
 their lives." Had the life of General Reed been sufficiently 
 prolonged, he would have discharged, in a manner worthy of 
 the subject, the debt of national gratitude to which the efforts 
 of the biographer of General Greene have been successfully 
 dedicated, who had in his possession the outlines of a sketch of 
 the life of Gen. Greene by this friend. 
 
 In the year 1784, he again visited England for the sake of 
 his health, but his voyage was attended with but little effect, as 
 in the following year he fell a victim to a disease, most probably 
 brought on by the fatigue and exposure to which he was con- 
 stantly subjected. In private life, he was accomplished in his 
 manners, pure in his morals, fervent and faithful in his attach- 
 ments. 
 
 On the 5th of March, 1785, in the 43d year of his age, too 
 soon for his country and his friends, he departed a life, active, 
 useful, and glorious. His remains were interred, in the Pres- 
 byterian ground, in Arch-street, in the city of Philadelphia, 
 attended by the President and executive council, and the speaker 
 and the general assembly of the state."* 
 
 PHILIP SCHUYLER, 
 
 Major-General in the American Array. 
 
 Gen. Schuyler was a native of New- York, a member of one 
 of the most respectable families in that state, and highly merits 
 the character of an intelligent and meritorious officer. As a 
 private gentleman, he was digi ified but courteous, his manners 
 
 * Amer. Biographical Dictionary. 
 
260 PHILIP SCHUYLER. 
 
 .. 
 
 urbane, and his hospitality unbounded. I justly consid- 
 
 ered as one of the most distinguished champions of liberty, and 
 his noble mind soared above despair, even at a period when he 
 experienced injustice from the public, and when darkness and 
 gloom overspread the land. He was able, prompt, and decisive, 
 and his conduct in every branch of duty, marked his active 
 industry and rapid execution. 
 
 He received his commission from congress, June 19th, 1776, 
 and was ordered to take command of the expedition against 
 Canada; but, being taken sick, the command devolved upon 
 Gen. Montgomery. On his recovery he devoted his time, and 
 with the assistance of Gen. St. Clair, used every effort to stay 
 the progress of a veteran and numerous army under Burgoyne, 
 who had commenced his march from Canada, on the bold 
 attempt of forming a junction at Albany with Sir Henry Clinton. 
 
 The duties of Gen. Schuyler now became laborious, intricate, 
 and complicated. On his arrival at head-quarters he found the 
 army of the north not only too weak for the objects intrusted to 
 it, but also badly supplied with arms, clothes, and provisions. 
 From a spv he obtained information that General Burgoyne had 
 arrived at Quebec, and was to take command of the British 
 force on their contemplated expedition. 
 
 " A few days removed the doubts which might have existed 
 respecting the intentions of Burgoyne. It was understood that 
 his army was advancing towards the lakes. 
 
 General Schuyler was sensible of the danger which threat- 
 ened his department, and made every exertion to meet it. He 
 visited in person the different posts, used the utmost activity in 
 obtaining supplies of provisions to enable them to hold out in 
 the event of a siege, and had proceeded to Albany both for the 
 purpose of attending to the supplies and of expediting the 
 march of Nixon's brigade, whose arrival was expected ; when 
 he received intelligence from Gen. St. Clair, who was intrusted 
 with the defence of Ticonderoga, that Burgoyne had appeared 
 before that place. 
 
 In the course of the preceding winter a plan for penetrating 
 to the Hudson from Canada by the way of the lakes, was com- 
 
PHILIP SCHUYLER. ft 
 
 pletely digest inir <- . its most minute parts arranged in the cab- 
 inet of St. James. Gen. Burgoyne, who assisted in forming it, 
 was intrusted with its execution, and was to lead a formidable 
 army against Ticonderoga, as soon as the season would permit. 
 At the same time a smaller party, under Col. St. Leger, compo- 
 sed of Canadians, new raised Americans, and a few Europeans, 
 aided by a powerful body of Indians, was to march from Oswego 
 to enter the country by the way of the Mohawk, and to join the 
 grand army on the Hudson. 
 
 The force assigned for this service was such as the General 
 himself deemed sufficient; and, as it was the favorite plan of 
 the minister, no circumstance was omitted which could give to 
 the numbers employed their utmost possible efficacy. The 
 troops were furnished with every military equipment which the 
 service required; the assisting general officers were of the first 
 reputation, and the train of artillery was, perhaps, the most 
 powerful ever annexed to an army not more numerous."* 
 
 But valor, perseverance, and industry could avail nothing 
 against such vast numbers as now assailed the northern army. 
 Ticonderoga was evacuated, and stores, artillery, and military 
 equipage to an immense amount, fell into the hands of the 
 enemy. 
 
 " Knowing the inferiority of his numbers, and that he could 
 only hope to save his army by the rapidity of his march, Gen. 
 St. Clair reached Charlestown, thirty miles from Ticonderoga, 
 on the night succeeding the evacuation of the fort. 
 
 On the 7th of July, at Stillwater, on hi9 way to Ticonderoga, 
 General Schuyler was informed of the evacuation of that place; 
 and on the same day, at Saratoga, the total loss of the stores at 
 Skeensborough, was also reported to him. From General St. 
 Clair he had heard nothing, and the most serious fears were 
 entertained for the army commanded by that officer. His force, 
 after being joined by Col. Long, consisted of about fifteen hun- 
 dred continental troops, and the same number of militia. They 
 were dispirited by defeat, without tents, badly armed, and had 
 lost a great part of their stores and baggage. That part of the 
 
 ♦Annual Register. 
 
262 PHILIP SCHUYLER. 
 
 country was generally much alarmed, and eve ">se who were 
 well affected, discovered, as is usual in such circumstances, more 
 inclination to take care of themselves, than to join the army. 
 
 In this gloomy state of things, it is impossible that any officer 
 could have used more diligence or judgment than was displayed 
 by Schuyler. 
 
 After the evacuation of Fort Anne, Burgoyne found it abso- 
 lutely necessary to suspend for a time all further pursuit, and to 
 give his army some refreshment. 
 
 In the present state of things, unable even to look the enemy 
 in the face, it was of unspeakable importance to the American 
 general to gain time. - This short and unavoidable interval from 
 action, therefore, was seized by Schuyler, whose head-quarters 
 were at Fort Edward, and used to the utmost advantage. 
 
 The country between Skeensborough and Fort Edward was 
 almost entirely unsettled, covered with thick woods, of a surface 
 extremely rough, and much intersected with creeks and moras- 
 ses. As far as Fort Anne, Wood-creek was navigable with 
 batteaux; and artillery, military stores, provisions, and heavy 
 J> iggage, might be transported up it. 
 
 The first moments of rest while Burgoyne was re-assembling 
 his forces at Skeensborough, were employed by Schuyler in 
 destroying the navigation of Wood-creek, by sinking numerous 
 impediments in its course; and in breaking up the bridges, and 
 otherwise rendering impassible the roads over which the British 
 armv must necessarily march. He was also indefatigable in 
 driving all the live-stock out of the way, and in bringing from 
 Fort George to Fort Edward, ammunition and other military 
 stores which had been deposited at that place, of which his 
 army was in much need, and which it was essential to bring 
 away before the British could remove their gun-boats and army 
 into the lake, and possess themselves of the fort. 
 
 While thus endeavoring to obstruct the march of the enemy, 
 he was not inattentive to the best means of strengthening his 
 own army. Reinforcements of regular troops were earnestly 
 solicited. The militia of New-England and New- York were 
 called for, and all his influence in the surrounding country was 
 
PHILIP SCHUYLER. 2G3 
 
 exerted to re-animate the people, and to prevent their defection 
 from the American cause. 
 
 The evacuation of Ticonderoga was a shock for which no 
 part of the United States was prepared. Neither the strength 
 of the invading army nor of the garrison had been any where 
 understood. The opinion was common that no reinforcements 
 had arrived at Quebec that spring, in which case it was believed 
 that not more than five thousand men could be spared from the 
 defence of Canada. Those new-raised regiments of New-Eng- 
 land and New- York, which had been allotted to the northern 
 department, had been reported, and were believed by the com- 
 mander-in-chief, and by congress, as well as by the community at 
 large, to contain a much greater number of effectives than they 
 were found actually to comprehend. In addition to these, the 
 officer commanding the garrison, was empowered to call to his 
 aid such bodies of militia as he might deem necessary for the 
 defence of his post. A very few days before the place was 
 invested, General Schuyler, from an inspection of the muster 
 rolls, had stated the garrison to amount to live thousand men, 
 and the supply of provisions to be abundant. When, therefore* 
 it was understood that a place, on the fortifications of which 
 much money and labor had been expended ; which was consid- 
 ered as the key to the whole western country, and supposed to 
 contain a«garrison neatly equal to the invading army, had been 
 abandoned without a siege; that an immense train of artillery, 
 consisting of one hundred and twenty-eight pieces, and all the 
 baggage, military stores, and provisions, had either fallen into 
 the hands of the enemy, or been destroyed ; that the army on its 
 retreat had been attacked, defeated, and dispersed; astonish- 
 ment pervaded all ranks of men; and the conduct of the offi- 
 cers was almost universally condemned. Congress directed a 
 recall of all the generals of the department, and an inquiry into 
 their conduct. Through New-England especially, the most 
 malignant aspersions were cast on them, and General Schuyler, 
 who, from some unknown cause, had never been viewed with 
 favor in that part of the continent, was involved in the common 
 charges of treachery, to which this accumulation of unlooked 
 
264 PHILIP SCHUYLER. 
 
 
 for calamity was very generally attributed by the mass of the 
 people. 
 
 On the representations of Gen. Washington, the recall of the 
 officers was suspended until he should be of opinion that the 
 state of things would admit of such a measure; and on a very 
 full inquiry afterward made into the conduct of the generals, 
 they were acquitted of all blame. 
 
 When the resolutions were passed, directing an inquiry into 
 the conduct of Schuyler and St. Clair, appointing a committee 
 to report on the mode of conducting the inquiry, and, in the 
 meanwhile, recalling them and all the brigadiers who had 
 served in that department, Gen. Washington was requested to 
 name a successor to Schuyler. On his expressing a wish to decline 
 this nomination, and representing the inconvenience of removing 
 all the general officers, Gates was again directed to repair 
 thither and take the command; and the resolution to recall the 
 brigadiers was suspended, until the commander-in-chief should 
 be of opinion that it might be carried into effect with safety. 
 
 Schuyler retained the command until the arrival of Gates, 
 which was about the 21st of August, and continued his exer- 
 tions to restore the affairs of the department, which had been 
 so much depressed by the losses consequent on the evacuation 
 of Ticonderoga. That officer felt acutely the disgrace of being 
 recalled in this critical and interesting state of the campaign. 
 "It is," said he in a letter to the commander-in chief, "matter 
 of extreme chagrin to me, to be deprived of the command at a 
 time when, soon if ever, we shall probably be enabled to face 
 the enemy ; when we are on the point of taking ground* where 
 they must attack to a disadvantage, should our force be inade- 
 quate to facing them in the field; when an opportunity will in 
 all probability occur, in which I might evince that I am not what 
 congress have too plainly insinuated by the resolution taking 
 the command from me." 
 
 If error be attributed to the evacuation of Ticonderoga, cer- 
 tainly no portion of it was committed by Schuyler. His remo- 
 
 — *— • 
 * The island on the north of the Mohawk. 
 
PHILIP SCHUYLER. 26S 
 
 ral from the command was probably unjust and severe, as the 
 measure respected himself." * 
 
 The patriotism and magnanimity displayed by the ex-general, 
 on this occasion, does him high honor. All that could have 
 been effected to impede the progress of the British army, had 
 been done already. Bridges were broken up, causeways 
 destroyed, trees felled in every direction to retard the convey- 
 ance of stores and artillery. 
 
 " On Gates' arrival, General Schuyler, without the slightest 
 indication of ill humor, resigned his command, communicated 
 all the intelligence he possessed, and put every interesting paper 
 into his hands, simply adding, "I have done all that could be 
 done, as far as the means were in my power, to injure the enemy 
 and to inspire confidence in the soldiers of our own army, and 
 I flatter myself with some success; but 1 the palm of victory is 
 denied me, and it is left to you, General, to reap the fruits of my 
 labors. 1 will not fail, however, to second your views; and my 
 devotion to my country will cause me with alacrity to obey all 
 your orders." He performed his promise, and faithfully did his 
 duty, till the surrender of Burgoyne put an end to the contest. 
 
 Another anecdote is recorded to his honor. Gen. Burgoyne, 
 dining with General Gates, immediately after the convention of 
 Saratoga, and hearing Gen. Schuyler named among the officers 
 presented to him, thought it necessary to apologise for the 
 destruction of his elegant mansion a few days before, by his 
 orders. "Make no excuses, General," was the reply; "I feel 
 myself more than compensated by the pleasure of meeting you at 
 this table."! 
 
 The court of inquiry, instituted on the conduct of General? 
 Schuyler and St. Clair, resulted with the highest honour to 
 them. 
 
 Gen. Schuyler, though not invested with any distinct com- 
 mand, continued to render important services in the military 
 transactions of New- York, until the close of the war. 
 
 He was a member of the old congress; and represented the 
 
 Marshall's Life of Washington- 
 t Garden's Anecdotes 
 
 34 
 
266" JOHN STARK. 
 
 atate of New- York in the senate of the United States, when ther 
 present government commenced its operations. In 1797 be \\ as 
 again appointed a senator. 
 
 He died at Albany, Nov. 1 8th, 1 804, in the seventy-third year 
 of his age. 
 
 JOHN STARK, 
 
 Brigadier-general in the American Army. 
 
 General Stark was a native of New-Hampshire, and was 
 was born in Londonderry, August 17th, 1728. From his earl\ 
 youth he had been accustomed to the alarm of war, having 
 lived in that \ art of the-country which was continually sub- 
 ject to the incursions of the savages. While a child he war- 
 captured by them, and adopted as one of their own; but after 
 a few years was restored. 
 
 Arrived at manhood, his manners were plain, honest, and 
 severe; excellently calculated for the benefit of society in the 
 private walks of fife; and as a courageous and heroic soldier, 
 he is entitled to a high rank among those who have been crowned 
 with unfading laurels, and to whom a large share of glory is 
 justly due. He was captain of a company of rangers in the 
 provincial service, during the French war in 1755. 
 
 From the commencement of the difficulties with the mother 
 country, until the closing scene of the revolution, our country 
 found in General Stark one of its most resolute,, independent, 
 and persevering defenders. The first call of his country found 
 him ready. When the report of Lexington battle reached him, 
 he was engaged at work in bis saw-mill: fired with indignation 
 and a martial spirit, he immediately seized his musket, and with 
 a band of heroes proceeded to Cambridge. The morning after 
 his arrival he received a colonel's commission, and availing him- 
 self of his own popularity, and the enthusiasm of the day, in 
 two hours he enlisted eight hundred men. On the memorable 
 17th of June, at Breed's Hill, Colonel Stark, at the head of his 
 back-woodsmen of New-Hampshire, poured on the enemy that 
 
JOHN STARK. 267 
 
 deadly fire from a sure aim, which effected such remarkable 
 destruction in their ranks, and compelled them twice to retreat. 
 During the whole of this dreadful conflict, Colonel Stark evin- 
 ced that consummate bravery and intrepid zeal, which entitle 
 his name to perpetual remembrance. 
 
 His spirit pervaded his native state, and excited them to the 
 most patriotic efforts. The British General Bargoyne, in one 
 of his letters observes, — " That the Hampshire Grants, almost 
 unknown in the last war, now abound in the most active and 
 most .rebellious race on the continent, and hang like a gathering 
 storm upon my left." 
 
 Distinct from his efforts in rallying the energies of his native 
 state, he obtained great credit in the active operations of the 
 field. At that gloomy period of the revolution, the retreat of 
 Washington through New-Jersey in 1776, when the saviour of 
 our country, apparently deserted of Heaven and by his country, 
 with the few gallant spirits who gathered the closer around him 
 in that dark hour, precipitately fled before an imperious and 
 victorious enemy — it was on this occasion, that the persevering 
 valor of Stark enrolled him among the firm and resolute defend- 
 ers of their country; and, with them, entitles him to her unceas- 
 ing gratitude. 
 
 But as he fearlessly shared with Washington the dark and 
 •gloomy night of defeat, so also he participated with him in the 
 joy of a bright morning of victory and hope. In the successful 
 enterprise against Trenton, Stark, then a colonel, acted a con- 
 spicuous part, and covered himself with glory. Gen. Wilkinson 
 in his memoirs says, — " 1 must not withhold due praise from the 
 dauntless Stark, who dealt death wherever he found resistance, 
 and broke down all opposition before him." 
 
 Soon after this alfair, Col. Stark, from some supposed injustice 
 toward him on the part of congress, quitted the continental ser- 
 vice, and returned to New-Hampshire. 
 
 " When he was urged by the government of New-Hampshire 
 to take the command of their militia, he refused, unless he should 
 be left at liberty to serve or not, under a continental officer, as 
 he should judge proper. It was not a time for debate, and it was 
 
 
268 JOHN STARK. 
 
 known that the militia would follow wherever Stark would lead.. 
 The assembly therefore invested him with a separate command, 
 and gave him orders to "repair to Charlestown,on Connecticut 
 River; there to consult with a committee of the New-Hamp- 
 shire Grants, respecting his future operations, and the supply of 
 his men with provisions; to take command of the militia, and 
 march into the Grants; to act in conjunction with the troops of 
 that new state, or any other of the states, or of the United 
 States, or separately, as should appear expedient to him; for 
 the protection of the people, and the annoyance of the enemy."* 
 Agreeably to his orders, Stark proceeded in a few days to 
 Charlestown; his men very readily followed; and as fast as they 
 arrived, he sent them forward to join the troops of Vermont 
 under Colonel Warner, who had taken his situation at Man- 
 chester. At that place he joined Warner with about 800 men 
 from New-Hampshire, and found another body of men from 
 Vermont, who put themselves under his command; and he was 
 at the head of fourteen hundred men. Most of them had been 
 in the two former campaigns, and weH officered; and were in 
 every respect a body of very good troops. ^Bchuyler repeatedly 
 urged Stark to join the troops under his command; but he 
 declined complying. He was led to this conduct not only by 
 the reasons which have been mentioned, but by a difference of 
 opinion as to the best method of opposing Burgoyne. Schuyler 
 wished to collect all the American troops in the front, to prevent 
 Burgoyne from marching on to Albany. Stark was of opinion 
 that the surest way to check Burgoyne was to have a body of 
 men on his rear; ready to fall upon him in that quarter, when- 
 ever a favorable opportunity should present. The New-Eng- 
 land militia had not formed a high opinion of Schuyler, as a 
 general; and Stark meant to keep himself in a situation, in 
 which he might embrace any favorable opportunity for action, 
 either in conjunction with him, or otherwise; and with that 
 view intended to hang on the rear of the British troops, and 
 embrace the first opportunity which should present, to make an 
 attack upon that quarter. But Stark assured Schuyler that he 
 
 * Bclknap'sjiist. New-Hfuup&hire, "* 
 
JOHN STARK. 261) 
 
 would join in any measure necessary to promote the public good, 
 but wished to avoid any thing that was not consistent with his own, 
 honor; and if it was thought necessary, he would march to his 
 camp. He wrote particularly, that he would lay aside all pri- 
 vate resentment, when it appeared in opposition to the public 
 good. But in the midst of these protestations, he was watching 
 for an opportunity to discover his courage and patriotism, by 
 falling upon some part of Burgoyne's army. 
 
 While the American army was thus assuming a more respect- 
 able appearance, General Burgoyne was making very slow 
 advances towards Albany. " From the twenty-eighth of July to 
 the fifteenth of August, the British army was continually em- 
 ployed in bringing forward batteaux, provisions, and ammuni- 
 tion from Fort George to the first navigable part of Hudson's 
 River: a distance of not more than eighteen miles. The labor 
 was excessive: the Europeans were but little acquainted with 
 the methods of performing it to advantage, and the effect was in 
 no degree equivalent to the expense of labor and time. With 
 all the efforts that Burgoyne could make, encumbered with his 
 artillery and baggage, his labors were inadequa<e to the purpose 
 of supplying the army with provisions for its daily consumption, 
 and the establishment of the necessary magazines. And after 
 his utmost exertions for fifteen days, there were not above four 
 days' provisions in the store, nor above ten batteaux in Hudson's 
 river. 
 
 In such circumstances, the British general found that it would 
 be impossible to procure sufficient supplies of provisions by the 
 way of Fort George, and determined to replenish his own maga- 
 zines, at the expense of those of the Americans. Having recei- 
 ved information that a large quantity of stores were laid up at 
 Bennington, and guarded only by the militia, he formed the 
 design of surprising that place; and was made to believe that 
 as soon as a detachment of the royal army should appear in that 
 quarter, it would receive effectual assistance from a large body 
 of loyalists, who only waited for the appearance of a support, 
 and would in that event come forward and aid the royal cause. 
 Full of these expectations, he detached Col. Baum, a German 
 
£270 JOHN STAKE. 
 
 officer, with a select body of troops, to surprise the place. His 
 force consisted of about live hundred regular troops, some Cana- 
 dians, and more than one hundred Indians, with two light pieces 
 of artillery. To facilitate their operations, and to be ready to 
 take advantage of the success of the detachment, the royal 
 army moved along the east bank of Hudson's river, and en- 
 camped nearly opposite to Saratoga; having at the 6ame time 
 thrown a bridge of rafts over the river, by which the army 
 passed to that place. With a view to support Baum, if it should 
 be found necessary, lieutenant-colonel Breyman's corps, consist- 
 ing of the Brunswick grenadiers, light infantry, and chasseurs 
 were posted at Battenkill. 
 
 Gen. Stark having received information that a party of Indians 
 were at Cambridge, sent lieutenant-colonel Greg, on August the 
 13th, with a party of two hundred men, to stop their progress. 
 Toward night he was informed by express that a large body of 
 regulars was in the rear of the Indians, and advancing toward 
 Bennington. On this intelligence, Stark drew together his brig- 
 ade, and the militia that were at hand, and seat on to Manches- 
 ter to Col. Warner, to bring on his regiment; he sent expresses 
 at the same time to the neighboring militia, to join him with the 
 utmost speed. On the morning of the 14th, he marched with 
 his troops, and at the distance of seven miles he met Greg on 
 the retreat, and the enemy within a mile of him. Stark drew 
 up his troops in order of; battle; but the enemy coming in sight, 
 halted upon a very advantageous piece of ground. Baum per- 
 ceived the Americans were too strong to be attacked with his 
 present force, and sent an express to Burgoyne with an account 
 of his situation, and to have Breyman march immediately to sup- 
 port him. In the mean lime small parties of the Americans 
 kept up a skirmish with the enemy, killed and wounded thirty of 
 them, with two of their Indian chiefs, without any loss to them- 
 selves. The ground the Americans had taken, was unfavorable 
 for a general action, and Stark retreated about a mile, and 
 encamped. A council of war was held, and it was agreed to 
 send two detachments upon the enemy's rear, while the rest of 
 Jthe troops should make an attack upon their front. The next 
 
JOHN STARK. 371 
 
 day the weather was rainy, and though it prevented a general 
 action, there were frequent skirmishes in small parties, which 
 proved favorable and encouraging to the Americans. 
 
 On August the sixteenth, in the morning, Stark was joined 
 by Col. Symonds and a body of militia from Berkshire, and 
 proceeded to attack the enemy, agreeably to the plan which 
 had been concerted. Colonel Baum in the meantime had en- 
 trenched, on an advantageous piece of ground near St. Koicks 
 mills, on a branch of Hoosic river; and rendered his post as 
 strong as his circumstances and situation would admit. Col. 
 Nichols was detached with two hundred men to the rear of his 
 left, Col. Herrick with three hundred men to the rear of his 
 right; both were to join, and then make the attack. Colonels 
 Hubbard and Stickney, with two hundred men, were ordered 
 on the right, and one hundred were advanced toward the front 
 to draw the attention of the enemy that way. About three 
 o'clock in the afternoon the troops had taken their station, and 
 Avere ready to commence the action. While Nichols and Her- 
 rick were bringing their troops together, the Indians were 
 alarmed at the prospect, and pushed off between the two corps; 
 but received a tire as they were passing, by which three of them 
 were killed and two wounded. Nichols then began the attack, 
 and was followed by all the other divisions; those in the front 
 immediately advanced, and in a few minutes the action became 
 general. It lastgd about two hours, and was like one continued 
 peal of thunder: Baum made a brave defence; and the Ger- 
 man dragoons, after they had expended their ammunition, led 
 by their Colonel, charged with their swords, but they were soon 
 overpowered. Their works were carried on all sides, their two 
 ►pieces of cannon were taken, Col. Baum himself was mortally 
 wounded and taken prisoner, and all his men, except a few, who 
 had escaped into the woods, were cither killed or taken pris- 
 oners. Having completed the business by taking the whole 
 party, the militia began to disperse and look out for plunder. 
 But in a {cw minutes Stark received information that a large 
 reinforcement was on their mjirch, and within two miles of him. 
 Fortunately at that moment colonel Warner came up with his- 
 
27$ JOHN STARK. 
 
 regiment from Manchester. This brave and experienced officer 
 commanded a regiment of continental troops, which had been 
 raised in Vermont. Mortified that he had not been in the for- 
 mer engagement, he instantly led on his men against Breyman, 
 and began the second engagement. Stark collected the militia 
 as soon as possible, and pushed on to his assistance. The action 
 became general, and the battle continued obstinate on both 
 sides till sunset, when the Germans were forced to give way* 
 and were pursued till dark. They left their two field pieces 
 behind, and a considerable number were made prisoners. They 
 retreated in the best manner they could, improving the advanta- 
 ges of the evening and night, to which alone their escape was 
 ascribed. 
 
 In these actions the Americans took four brass field-pieces, 
 twelve brass drums, two hundred and fifty dragoon swords, four 
 amunition wagons, and about seven hundred prisoners, with 
 their arms and accoutrements. Two hundred and seven men 
 were found dead upon the spot, the numbers of wounded w r ere 
 unknown. The loss of the Americans was but small; thirty 
 were slain, and about forty were wounded. Stark was not a lit- 
 tle pleased at having so fair an opportunity to vindicate his own 
 conduct. He had now shown that no neglect from congress had 
 made him disaffected to the American cause^ and that he had 
 rendered a much more important service than he could have 
 done by joining Schuyler, and remaining inactive in his camp. 
 Congress embraced the opportunity to assign 'to him his rank, 
 and though he had not given to them any account of his vic- 
 tory, or wrote to them at all upon the subject, on October the 
 fourth they resolved, — "That the thanks of Congress be pre- 
 sented to General Stark of the New Hampshire militia, and 
 the officers and troops under his command, for their brave, and 
 successful attack upon, and signal victory over, the enemy in 
 their lines at Bennington: and that brigadier Stark be appointed 
 u brigadier general in the army of the United Stales.*' And 
 never were thanks more deserved, or more wisely given to a 
 military officer.* 
 
 * Williams' Vermont. 
 
 
JOHN STARK. 273 
 
 " In his official account of the affair, Gen. Stark thus writes: 
 "It lasted two hours, the hottest I ever saw in my life; it repre- 
 sented one continued clap of thunder: however, the enemy 
 were obliged to give way, and leave their field-pieces, and all 
 their baggage behind them; they were all environed within 
 two breast-works with artillery; but our martial courage proved 
 too strong for them. I then gave orders to rally again, in order 
 to secure the victory; but in a few minutes was informed that 
 there was a large reinforcement on their march within two 
 miles. Colonel Warner's regiment, luckily coming up at the 
 moment, renewed the attack with fresh vigor. I pushed for- 
 ward as many of the men as I could to their assistance ; the 
 battle continued obstinate on both sides until sunset; the enemy 
 was obliged to retreat; we pursued them till dark, and had day 
 lasted an hour longer, should have taken the whole body of 
 them." 
 
 . " On what small events does the popular humor and military 
 success depend! The capture of one thousand Germans by 
 Gen. Washington at Trenton had served to wake up, and save 
 the whole continent. The exploit of Stark at Bennington, oper- 
 ated with the same kind of influence, and produced a similar 
 effect. This victory was the first event that had proved encou- 
 raging to the Americans in the northern department, since the 
 death of Gen. Montgomery. Misfortune had succeded misfor- 
 tune, and defeat had followed defeat from that period till now. 
 The present instance wal the first, in which victory had quitted 
 the royal standard, or seemed even to be wavering. She was 
 now found with the American arms, and the effect seemed in 
 fact to be greater than the cause. It raised the spirit of the 
 country to an uncommon degree of animation ; and by showing 
 the militia what they could perform, rendered them willing and 
 desirous to turn out and try what fortunes would await their 
 exertions. It had a still greater effect on the royal army. 
 The British generals were surprised to hear that an enemy, 
 whom they had contemplated with no other feelings than those 
 of contempt, should all at once wake up, and discover much of 
 the spirit of heroism. To advance upon the mouth of cannon, 
 35 
 
S74 ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 
 
 to attack fortified lines, to carry strong entrenchments, were 
 exploits which they supposed belonged exclusively to the armies 
 of kings. To see a body off American militia, ill-dressed, but 
 little disciplined, without cannon, armed only with farmers' guns 
 without bayonets, and who had been accustomed to fly at their 
 approach; that such men, should force the entrenchments, cap- 
 ture the cannon, kill, and make prisoners of a large body of the 
 royal army, was a matter of indignation, astonishment, and sur- 
 prise." * 
 
 "General Stark volunteered his services under Gen. Gates afe 
 Saratoga, and assisted in the council which stipulated the sur- 
 render of Gen. Burgoyne, nor did he relinquish his valuable 
 services till he could greet his native country as an Independent 
 Empire. Gen. Stark was of the middle stature, not formed by 
 nature to exhibit an erect soldierly mien. His 'manners were 
 frank, and unassuming, but he manifested a peculiar sort of 
 eccentricity and negligence, which precluded all display of 
 personal dignity, and seemed to place him among those of 
 ordinary rank in life. His character as a private citizen was 
 unblemished, and he was ever held in respect. For the last 
 {ew years of his life, he enjoyed a pecuniary bounty from the 
 government. He lived to the advanced age of ninety-three 
 years, eight months, and twenty-four days, and died May 8th, 
 1322." t 
 
 ARTHUR ST. CLAIR, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army; 
 
 Gen. St. Clair was a soldier from his youth. At an early 
 age, while the independent states were yet British colonies, he 
 entered the royal American army, and was commissioned as an 
 ensign. He was actively engaged, during the French war, in 
 the army of Gen. Wolfe, and was in the battle carrying a pair 
 of colors, in which that celebrated commander was slain, on the 
 
 * Williams' Vermont; t Thatcher's Journal* 
 
ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 275 
 
 plains of Abraham, He was highly esteemed, by the distin- 
 guished commanders under whom he served, as a young officer of 
 merit, capable of obtaining a high grade of military reputation. 
 
 "After the peace of '63, he sold out and entered into trade, 
 for which the generosity of his nature utterly disqualified him; 
 he, of course, soon became disgusted with a profitless pursuit, 
 and having married, after several vicissitudes of fortune, he 
 located himself in Ligonier valley, west of the Alleghany moun- 
 tain, and near the ancient route from Philadelphia to Pitta- 
 burgh. 
 
 In this situation the American revolution found him, surv 
 rounded by a rising family, in the enjoyment of ease and inde- 
 pendence, with the fairest prospects of affluent fortune, the 
 foundation of which had been already established by his intel* 
 ligence, industry and enterprise. 
 
 From this peaceful abode, these sweet domestic enjoyments* 
 and the flattering prospects which accompanied them, he wag 
 drawn by the claims of a troubled country. A man known la 
 have been a military officer, and distinguished for knowledge and 
 integrity, could not, in those times be concealed even by his 
 favorite mountains, and therefore, without application or expect- 
 ation on his part, he received the commission of a colonel in 
 the month of December, 1775, together with a letter from 
 President Hancock, pressing him to repair immediately to Phila- 
 delphia. He obeyed the summons, and took leave not only of 
 his wife and children, but in effect of his fortune, to embark in 
 the cause of liberty and the united colonies. In six weeks he 
 completed the levy of a regiment of 750 men; six companies of 
 which marched in season to join our troops before Quebec; he 
 followed with the other four in May, and after the unluckj 
 affair at Three Rivers, by his counsel to Gen. Sullivan at Sorel, 
 he saved the array we had in Canada." * 
 
 Tiie active and persevering habits of St. Clair, and the mili- 
 tary knowledge, as displayed by him during the Canadian cam- 
 paign, brought him into high repute, and he was subsequently 
 promoted to the rank of major-general. On all occasions he 
 
 * Wilkinson's Memoirs. 
 
276 ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 
 
 supported an honorable distinction, and shared largely in the 
 confidence and friendship of the commander-inchief. 
 
 The. misfortunes attending the early military operations of 
 the northern campaign of 1777, did not fail to bring reproach 
 upon the characters of those who conducted it. The loss of 
 Ticonderoga and Fort Independence, and the subsequent retreat 
 of Gen. St. Clair, cast a gloom over the minds of patriotic men, 
 and in their consequences gave rise to the malignant passions of 
 the human heart, which Were put in motion to depreciate the 
 worth, impair the influence, and destroy the usefulness of Gen- 
 erals Schuyler and St. Clair, it was proclaimed that they were 
 traitors to their country, and acted in concert with the enemy; 
 and the ignorant and the credulous were led to believe that they 
 had received an immense treasure in silver balls, fired by Bur- 
 goyne into St. Clair's camp, and by his order picke 1 up and 
 transmitted to Schuyler, at Fort Geoigc!! Extravagant as was 
 this tale, it was implicitly believed. 
 
 At the time, of the evacuation of Ticonderoga by St. Clair, 
 which so much exasperated the people, Gen. Schuyler was 
 absent upon a different duty, and was totally ignorant of the 
 fact, though the commanding officer in that district. Gen. St. 
 Clair, in accordance with the opinion of a council of war, 
 ordered the movement on his own responsibility, and thereby 
 saved the state of New-York from British, domination, and his 
 gallant army from capture. Stung with the injustice of a 
 charge against Gen. Schuyler, for an act for which he alone 
 was responsible, he magnanimously wrote the following letter 
 to the Hon. John Jay, on the subject: — 
 
 Moses' -Creek, July 25, 1775. 
 " Sir — General Schuyler was good enough to read to me a 
 part of a letter he received .last night frcm you. I cannot 
 recollect that any of my officers everagked my reason- for leav- 
 ing Ticonderoga: but as J have found the measure much decried, 
 I have often expressed myself in this manner: — "'That as to 
 myself 1 was perfectly easy; 1 was conscious of the uprightness 
 and propriety of my conduct, and despised the vague censure 
 
ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 277 
 
 of an uninformed populace; " but had no allusion to an order 
 from Tien. Schu)ler for my justification, because no such order 
 existed. 
 
 " The calumny thrown on Gen. Schuyler, on account of that 
 matter has given me great uneasiness. I assure you, Sir, there 
 never was any thing more cruel and unjust; for he knew nothing 
 of the matter until it was over, more than you did at Kingston. 
 It was done in consequence of a consultation with the other 
 general officers, without the possibility of Gen. Schuyler's con- 
 currence; and had the opinion of that council been contrary to 
 what it was, it would nevertheless have taker place, because 
 I knew it to be impossible to defend the po^i with our numbers. 
 
 " In my letter to congress from Fort EMwafd, in »* '.u< \h 1 gave 
 them an account of the retreat, is ibis paragraph: — * It was my 
 original design to retreat to this place; that I mi^'if be bei.ixt 
 Gen. Burgoyne and the inhabitants, and that the militia might 
 have something in this quarter to collect to. It is now effecied, 
 and the militia are coming in, so thai I have the most sanguine 
 hopes that the progress of the enemy will be checked, and 1 may 
 have the satisfaction to experience, that although I have lost a 
 post, I have eventually saved a state.' 
 
 "Whether my conjecture is right, or not, is uncertain; but 
 had our army been made prisoners, which it certainly would 
 have been, the state of Mew- York would have been much more 
 exposed at present. 
 
 " 1 proposed to Gen. Schuyler, on my arrival at Fort Edward, 
 to have sent a note to the printer, to assure the people he had 
 no part in abandoning what they considered their strong holds; 
 he thought it was not so proper at that time, but it is no more 
 than what I owe to truth and to him, to declare, that he was 
 totally unacquainted with the matter; and I should be very glad 
 that this letter, or any part of it you may think proper to com- 
 municate, may convince the unbelieving. Simple unbelief is 
 easily and soon convinced, but when malice or envy occasions it, 
 it is needless to attempt conviction. 
 
 I am, Sir, your very humble and ob't. serv't. 
 
 ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 
 Hon. John Jay." 
 4 
 
 ■■ 
 
278 ARTHUR ST. CLAIR, 
 
 Congress, yielding to personal prejudices and the popular 
 outcry, produced by the evacuation of that post, they passed 
 the following resolutions: — 
 
 " Resolved. That an inquiry be made into the reasons of the 
 evacuation of Ticonderoga and Mount Independence, and into 
 the conduct of the general oflicers who were in the northern 
 department at the time of the evacuation. 
 
 "Resolved, That Major General St. Clair, who commanded 
 at Ticonderoga and Mount Independence, forthwith repair to 
 head-quarters." 
 
 The conduct of congress towards this respectable, able, and 
 faithful servant of the republic, was considered altogether 
 unwarrantable, and, in the result, drew great and deserved odi- 
 um on its authors. 
 
 After holding St. Clair in cruel suspense for more than a year 
 he was permitted to appear before a general court martial, 
 which passed the following sentence of acquittal: — 
 
 Quaker-Hill. Sept. 29, 1778. 
 
 "The court having duly considered the charges against ma- 
 jor-general St. Clair, and the evidence, are unanimously of opin- 
 ion, that he is not guilty of either of the charges preferred 
 against him, and do unanimously acquit him of all and every of 
 them, with the highest honor. 
 
 B. LINCOLN, Ma]. Gen. and Pres't. 
 From this time, Gen. St. Clair continued in the service of his 
 country until the close of the war. Soon after the establish- 
 ment of the national government, Gen. St. Clair was appointed 
 Governor of the North West Territory. ' But he did not long 
 enjoy the calm and quiet of civil life. The repeated successes 
 of the Indians, on the western frontier, had emboldened them to 
 repeat and extend their incursions to an alarming degree. 
 
 " The frontiers were in a most deplorable situation. For 
 their relief, congress sanctioned the raising of an additional 
 regiment; and the President was authorised to cause a body of 
 two thousand men, under the denomination of levies, to be 
 raised for six months, and to appoint a major-general, and a 
 
ARTHUR ST. CLAIR. 27& 
 
 brigadier-general, to continue in command as long as he should 
 think their services necessary. St. Clair, who was then gov- 
 ernor of the territory, north-west of the Ohio, and, as such, offi- 
 cially the negotiator with the adjacent Indians, was appointed 
 commander-in-chief of this new military establishment. Though 
 every exertion was made to recruit and forward the troops, they 
 were not assembled in the neighborhood of Fort Washington, 
 until the month of September; nor was the establishment then 
 completed. 
 
 The object of the expedition was to destroy the Indian villa- 
 ges on the Miami; to expel the savages from that country; and 
 to connect it with the Ohio by a chain of posts. The regulars, 
 proceeding northwardly, from the Ohio, established, at proper 
 intervals, two forts, one named Hamilton, and the other Jeffer- 
 son, as places of deposit and security. These were garrisoned 
 with a small force; and the main body of the army, about two 
 thousand men, advanced towards the Indian settlements. As 
 they approached the enemy, about sixty militiamen deserted, in 
 a body. To prevent the mischiefs, likely to result from so bad 
 an example, Major Hamtrackwas detached, with the first regi- 
 ment, to pursue the deserters. The army was reduced, by this> 
 detachment, to about fourteen hundred effective men; but, 
 nevertheless, proceeded on their march, and encamped on eleva- 
 ted ground, about fifteen miles south of the Miami. The 
 Indians commenced an attack on the militia in front. These 
 instantly fled in disorder, and rushing into the camp, occasioned 
 confusion among the regulars. The officers of the latter exerted 
 themselves to restore order; but with very inconsiderable suc- 
 cess. The Indians improved the advantage they had gained. 
 They were seldom seen, but in the act of springing from one 
 cover to another; for they fired from the ground, or under 
 shelter of the woods. Advancing in this manner, close to the 
 lines of their adversaries, and almost to the mouth of their 
 field-pieces they continued the contest with great firmness and 
 intrepidity. 
 
 Gen. St. Clair, though suffering under a painful disease, and 
 unable to mount or dismount a horse, without assistance, deliv- 
 
280 ARTHTR ST. CLAIR, 
 
 cred his orders with judgment, and perfect self-possession. 
 
 The troops had not heen in service long enough to acquire dis- 
 cipline; and the want of it increased the difficulty of reducing 
 them to order after they had been broken. The officers, in 
 their zeal to change the face of affairs, exposed themselves to 
 imminent danger, and fell in great numbers. Attempts were 
 made to retrieve the fortune of the day, by the use of the bay- 
 onet. Col. Darke made a successful charge on a part of the 
 enemy, and drove them four hundred yards; but they soon 
 rallied. In the mean time, Gen. Butler was mortally wounded. 
 Almost all the artillerists were killed, and their guns seized 
 by the enemy. Col. Darke again charged with the bayonet, 
 and the artillery was recovered. While the Indians were 
 driven back in one point, they kept up their fire from every other, 
 with fatal effect. Several corps charged the Indians with par-, 
 tial success; but no general impressions was made upon them. 
 
 To save the remnant of his army, was all that could be done 
 by St. Clair. After some hours of sharp fighting, a retreat took 
 place. The Indians pursued, for about four miles, when their 
 avidity for plunder called them hack to the camp to share the 
 spoil. The vanquished troops fled about thirty miles, to Fort 
 Jefferson. There they met Major Hamtrack, with the first 
 regiment; but this additional force would not warrant an 
 attempt to turn about and face the victors. The wounded were 
 left there, and the army retreated to Fort Washington. 
 
 • The loss in this defeat was great; and particularly so among 
 the officers. Thirty-eight of these were killed on the field ; and 
 five hundred and ninety-three non-commissioned officers and 
 privates were slain or missing. Twenty-one commissioned offi- 
 cers and upwards of one hundred privates were wounded. 
 Among the dead was the gallant General Butler, who had 
 repeatedly distinguished himself in the war of the revolution. 
 Several other brave officers, Who had successfully fought for the 
 independence of their country, fell on this fatal day. Among 
 the wounded, were Lieutenant-Colonels Gibson and Darke, 
 Major Butler, and Adjutant Sargent, officers of distinguished 
 merit. Neither the number of the Indians engaged, nor their 
 
JOHN SULLIVAN. 281 
 
 loss could be exactly ascertained. The former was supposed 
 to be from oiie thousand to fifteen hundred, and the latter tar 
 short of what was sustained by St. Clair's army."* 
 
 Shortly after this unfortunate expedition, Gen. St. Clair re- 
 signed his commission in the 1 army, and retired into private life, 
 and thus remained until the close of his life, August 3 1st, 1818. 
 
 JOHN SULLIVAN, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 General Sullivan was a native of New Hampshire, where 
 he resided before the revolution, and attained to a high degree 
 of eminence in the profession of the law. He was a member 
 of the first congress in 1774, but on the commencement of hos- 
 tilities, preferring a military commission, he relinquished the 
 fairest prospect of fortune and fame, and appeared among the 
 most ardent patriots, and intrepid warriors. 
 
 In 1775, he was appointed a brigadier gerHral, and imme- 
 diately joined the army at Cambridge, and soon after obtained 
 the command on Winter Hill. The next year he was ordered 
 to Canada, and on the death of Gen. Thomas the command of 
 the army devolved on him. The situation of the army in that 
 quarter was inexpressibly distressing; destitute of clothing, dis- 
 pirited by defeat and constant fatigue, and a large proportion of 
 the troops sick with the small pox. By his great exertions and 
 judicious management he meliorated the condition of the army, 
 and obtained general applause. On his retiring from that com- 
 mand, July 12th, 1776, the field officers thus addressed him. 
 "It is to you, sir, the public are indebted for the preserva- 
 tion of their property in Canada. It is to you we owe our safety 
 thus far. Your humanity will call forth the silent tear, and the 
 grateful ejaculation of the sick. Your universal impartiality 
 will force the applause of the wearied soldier." 
 
 In August, 1776, he was promoted to the rank of major gen- 
 eral, and soon after was, with major general lord Stirling, cap- 
 tured by the British in the battle on Long Island. Gen. Sullivan 
 
 . — » ' ■ < ■ — ■ ' ' ■• 
 
 * Ramsay's United States. 
 36 
 
282 JOHN SULLIVAN. 
 
 being paroled, was sent by Gen. Howe with a message to con- 
 gress, after which he returned to New York. In September he 
 was exchanged for major general Prescott. We next find him 
 in command of the right division of our troops, in the famous 
 battle al Trenton, and he acquitted himself honorably on that 
 ever memorable day. 
 
 In August, 1777, without the authority of congress or the 
 commander-in-chief, he planned and executed an expedition 
 against the enemy on Staten Island. Though the enterprise 
 was conducted with prudence and success in part, it was said by 
 some to have been less brilliant than might have been expected 
 under his favorable circumstances; and as that act was deemed 
 a hold assumption of responsibility, and reports to his prejudice 
 being in circulation, a court of inquiry was ordered to investi- 
 gate his conduct. The result was an honorable acquittal, and 
 congress resolved that the result so honorable to Gen. Sullivan 
 is highly pleasing to congress, and thai the opinion of the court 
 be published, w justification of that injured officer. 
 
 In the battles of Brandy wine aid Gcrmantown, in the autumn 
 of 1777, Ge i. Sulli a i commanded a division, and in the latter 
 conflict his two aids were killed, and his own conduct was so 
 conspicuously brave, that Gen. Washington, in his letter to con- 
 gress concludes with encomiums on the gallantry of General 
 Sullivan, andthe whole right wing of the army, who acted imme- 
 diately under the eye of his Excellency. 
 
 In August, 1778, Gen. Sullivan who was sole commander of 
 an expedition to the island of Newport, in co-operation with the 
 French fleet under the Count D'Estaing. The Marquis de La 
 Fayette and Gen. Greene volunteered their services on the 
 occasion. The object of the expedition was defeated, in con- 
 sequence of the French fleet being driven off by a violent storm. 
 By this unfortunate event the enemy were encouraged to engage 
 our army in battle, in which they suffered a repulse, and General 
 Sullivan finally effected a safe retreat to the main. This retreat 
 so ably executed, without confusion, or the loss of baggare, or 
 stores, increased the military reputation of General Sullivan-, 
 and redounds to his honor as a skilful commander. .« 
 
JOHN SULLIVAN. 283 
 
 The bloody tragedy, acted at Wyoming in 1778, had deter- 
 mined the commander-in-chief, in 1779, to employ a large 
 detachment from the continental army to penetrate into the heart 
 
 of the Indian country, to chastise the hostile tribes and their 
 white associates and adherents, for their cruel aggressions on 
 
 the defenceless inhabitants. .The command of this expedition 
 
 was committed to major-general Sullivan, with express orders 
 
 to destroy their settlements, to ruin their crops, and make 
 
 such thorough devastations, as to render the country entirely 
 
 uninhabitable for the present, and thus to compel the savages 
 
 to remove to a greater distance from our frontiers. 
 
 Gen. Sullivan had under his command several brigadiers, and 
 a well chosen army, to which were attached a number of friendly 
 Indian warriors. With this force he penetrated about ninety 
 miles through a horrid swampy wilderness and barren moun- 
 tainous deserts, to Wyoming, on the Susquehanna river, thence 
 by water to Tioga, and possessed himself of numerous towns 
 and villages of the savages. 
 
 During this hazardous expedition, General Sullivan and his 
 army encountered the most complicated obstacles, requiring the 
 greatest fortitude and perseverance to surmount. He explored 
 an extensi e tract of country, and strictly executed the severe, 
 but necessary orders he had received. A considerable number 
 oi Indians were slain, some were captured, their habitations 
 were burnt, and their plantations of corn and vegetables laid 
 waste in the most effectual manner. "Eighteen villages, a 
 number of detached buildings, one hundred and sixty thousand 
 bushels of corn, and those fruits and vegetables which conduce 
 to the comfort and subsistence of man, were utterly destroyed. 
 Five, weeks were unremittingly employed in this work of de- 
 vastation." 
 
 On his return from the expedition, he and his army received 
 the approbation of congress. It is remarked on this expedition, 
 by the translator of M. Chastelleux's travels, an Englishman, 
 then resident in the United State's, that the instructions given 
 by General Sullivan to his officers, the drder of marc^ he pres- 
 cribed to his troops, and the discipline r e had the ability to 
 
284 SETH WARNER. 
 
 maintain, would have done honor to the most experienced ancient 
 or modern generals. 
 
 At the close of the campaign of 1779, General Sullivan, in 
 consequence of impaired health, resigned his commission in the 
 army. Congress, in accepting his resignation, passed a resolve, 
 thai, king him for his past services. His military talents and 
 bold spir it of enterprise were universally acknowledged. He 
 was fond of display., and his personal appearance and dignified 
 deportment commanded respect. After his resignation he 
 resumed his professional pursuits at the bar, and was much dis- 
 tinguished as a statesman, politician, and patriot. He acquired 
 very considerable proficiency in general literature, and an 
 extensive knowledge of men and the world. He received from 
 Harvard university a decree of Master of Arts, and from the 
 university of Dartmouth a degree of Doctor of Laws. He 
 was one of the convention who formed the state constitution for 
 New-Hampshire, was chosen into the first council, and was . 
 afterward elected chief magistrate in that state, and held the 
 office for three years. In September 1789, he was appointed 
 Judge of the district court for the district of New-Hampshire^ 
 and continued in the office till his death, in 1795." * 
 
 SETH WARNER , 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 "-Among the persons who have performed important services- 
 to the state of Vermont, Col. Seth Warner deserves to be 
 remembered with respect. He was born at Woodbury, in the 
 colony of Connecticut, about the year 1744, of honest and res- 
 pectable parents. Without any other advantages for an educa- 
 tion than were to be found in the common schools of the town, 
 he was early distinguished by the solidity and extent of his 
 understanding. About the year 1763, his parents purchased a 
 tract of land in Bennington, and soon after removed to that 
 town with their family. In the uncultivated state of the coun- 
 
 *Thagher , s Military Journal. 
 
SETH WARNER. 285 
 
 try, in the fish, with which the rivers and ponds were furnished, 
 and in the game, with which the woods abounded, young War- 
 ner found a variety of objects suited to his favorite inclinations 
 and pursuits; and he soon became distinguished as a fortunate 
 and indefatigable hunter. 
 
 His father, captain Benjamin Warner, had a strong inclination 
 to medicinal inquiries and pursuits; and agreeably to the state 
 of things in new settlements, had to look for many of his medi- 
 cines in the natural virtues of the plants and roots, that were 
 indigenous to tbe country. His son Seth frequently attended 
 him in these botanical excursions, contracted something of his 
 father's taste for the business, and acquired more information of 
 the nature and properties of the indigenous plants and vegeta- 
 bles, tban any other man in the Country, By this kind of knowl- 
 edge he became useful to the families in the new settlements, 
 and administered relief in many cages, where no other medical 
 assistance could at that time be procured. By such visits and 
 practice, he became known to most of the families on the west 
 side of the Green Mountains; and was generally esteemed by 
 them a man highly useful both on account of his information 
 and humanity. 
 
 About the year 1763, a scene began to open, which gave a 
 new turn to his active and enterprising spirit. The lands on 
 which the settlements were made, had been granted by the gov- 
 ernors of New-Hampshire. The government of New- York 
 claimed jurisdiction to the eastward as far as Connecticut river; 
 denied the authority of the governor of New-Hampshire to 
 make any grants to the west of Connecticut river; and announ- 
 c A to the inhabitants that they were within the territory of 
 New-York, and had no legal title to the lands on which they 
 had settled. The controversy became very serious between 
 the two governments; and after some years spent in altercation 
 New-York procured a decision of George III. in their favor. 
 This order was dated July 20, 1764, and declared "the western 
 banks of the river Connecticut, from where it enters the prov- 
 ince of Massachusetts bay, as far north as the 45th degree of 
 northern latitude, to be the boundary line between the said two 
 
28G SETII WARNER. 
 
 provinces of New-Hampshire and New-York." No sooner waa 
 this decree procured, than the governor of New- York prcceeded 
 to make new grants of the lands, which the settlers had before 
 fairly bought of the crown, and which had been chartered to 
 them in the king's name and authority by the royal governor 
 of New-Hampshire. All became a scene of disorder and dan- 
 ger. The new patentees under New- York brought actions of 
 ejectment against the settlers. The decisions of the courts at 
 Albany were always in favor of the New-York patentees; and 
 nothing remained for the inhabitants but to buy their lands over 
 again, or to give up the labors and earnings of their whole lives 
 to the new claimants under titles from New-York. 
 
 In this scene of oppression and distress, the settlers discov- 
 ered the firm and vigorous spirit of manhood. All that was 
 left to them, was either to yield up their whole property to a set 
 of unfeeling land-jobbers, or to defend themselves and property 
 by force. They wisely and virtuously chose the latter; and by 
 a kind of common consent, Ethan Allen and Seth Warner 
 became their leaders. No man's abilities and talents could 
 have been better suited to this business than Warner's. When 
 the authority of New-York proceeded with an armed force to 
 attempt to execute their laws, Warner met them with a body of 
 Green Mountain Boys, properly armed, full of resolution, and so 
 formidable in numbers and courage, that the governor of New- 
 York was obliged to give up this method of proceeding. When 
 the sheriff came to extend his executions, and eject the settlers 
 from their farm*, Warner would not suffer him to proceed. 
 Spies were employed to procure intelligence, and promote 
 division among the people; when any of them were taken, War- 
 ner caused them to be tried by some of the most discreet of the 
 people ; and if declared guilty, to be tied to a tree and whipped. 
 An officer came to take Warner by force; he considered it as 
 an affair of open hostility, engaged, wounded, and disarmed the 
 officer; but, with the honor and spirit of a soldier, spared the 
 life of an enemy he had subdued. These services appeared in 
 a very different light to the settlers, and to the government of 
 New- York; the first considered him as an eminent patriot and 
 
SETH WARNER. 278 
 
 hero ; to the other he appeared as the first of villains and rebels 
 To put an end to all further exertions, and to bring him to an 
 exemplary punishment, the government of New- York, on March 
 9th, 1774, passed an act of outlawry against him; and a pro- 
 clamation wag issued by W. Tryon, governor of New- York, 
 offering a reward of fifty pounds to any person who should 
 apprehend him. These proceedings of New-York were beheld 
 by him with contempt; and they had no other effect upon the 
 settlers, than to unite them more firmly in their opposition to that 
 government, and in their attachment to their own patriotic 
 leader thus wantonly proscribed. 
 
 In services of so dangerous and important a nature, Warner 
 was engaged from the year 1 765 to 1775. That year a scene of 
 the highest magnitude and consequence opened upon the world. 
 On the 19th of April, the American war was begun by the Brit- 
 ish troops at Lexington. Happily for the country, it was com- 
 menced with such circumstances of insolence and cruelty, as 
 left no room for the people of America to doubt what was the 
 course which they ought to pursue. The time was come, in 
 which total subjection, or the horrors of war, must take place. 
 All America preferred the latter; and the people of the New- 
 Hampshire Grants immediately undertook to secure the British 
 forts at Ticonderoga and Crown Point. Allen and Warner 
 immediately engaged in the business. Allen took the command 
 and Warner raised a body of excellent troops in the vicinity of 
 Bennington, and both marched against Ticonderoga. They sur- 
 prised and took that fortress on the morning of the tenth of May ; 
 and Warner was sent the same day with a detachment of the 
 troops to secure Crown Point. He effected the business, and 
 secured the garrison, with all the warlike stores, for the use of 
 the continent. 
 
 The same year Warner received a commission from congress 
 to raise a regiment, to assist in the reduction of Canada. He 
 engaged in the business with his usual spirit of activity; raised 
 his regiment chiefly among his old acquaintance and friends, the 
 Green Mountain Boys, and joined the army under the command 
 of General Montgomery. The Honorable SamHel Safford of 
 

 388 SETH WARNER. 
 
 Bennington was his lieutenant colonel. Their regiment con- 
 ducted with great spirit, and acquired high applause, in the ac- 
 tion at Longueil,in which the troops designed for the relief of 
 St. John's were totally defeated and dispersed, chiefly by the 
 troops under the com nand of colonel Warner. The campaign 
 ended about the 20th of November, in the course of which, Ti- 
 conderoga, Crown Point, Chamblee, St. Joans, Montreal, and a 
 fleet of eleven sail of vessels had been captured by the Ameri- 
 can arms. JN T o man in this campaign had acted with more spirit 
 and enterprise than colonel Warner. The weather was now 
 become severe, and Warner's men were too miserably clothed 
 to bear a winter's campaign in the severe climate of Canada. 
 They were accordingly now discharged by Montgomery with 
 particular marks of his respect, and the most affectionate thanks 
 for their meritorious services. 
 
 Warner returned with his men to the New Hampshire Grants, 
 but his mind was more than ever engaged in the cause of his 
 country. Montgomery with a part of his army, pressed on to 
 Quebec, and on December 31st was slain in an attempt to carry 
 the city by storm. This event gave an alarm to all the northern ' 
 part of the colonies; and it became necessary to raise a rein- 
 forcement to march to Quebec in the midst of winter. The 
 difficulty of the business suited the genius and ardor of Warner's 
 mind. He was at Woodbury, in Connecticut, when he heard 
 the news of Montgomery's defeat and death; he instantly re- 
 paired to Bennington, raised a body of men, and marched in 
 the midst of winter to join the American troops at Quebec. 
 The campaign during the winter proved extremely distressing 
 to the Americans: in want of comfortable clothing, barracks, 
 and provisions, most of them were taken by the smallpox, and 
 several died. At the opening of the spring, in May, 1776, a 
 large body of British troops arrived at Quebec to relieve the 
 garrison. The American troops were forced to abandon the 
 blockade, with circumstances of great distress and confusion. 
 Warner chose the most difficult part of the business, remaining 
 always with the rear, picking up the lame and diseased, assisting 
 and encouraging those who were the most unable to take care 
 
SETH WARNER. 289 
 
 of themselves, and generally kept but a few miles in advance 
 of the British, who were rapidly pursuing the retreating Amer- 
 icans from post to post.- By steadily pursuing this conduct, he 
 brought off most of the invalids; and with this corps of the 
 infirm and diseased, he arrived at Ticonderoga, a few days after 
 the body of the army had taken possession of that post. 
 
 Highly approving his extraordinary exertions, the American 
 congress, on July 5th, 1776, the day after they had declared 
 independence, resolved to raise a regiment out of the troops 
 which had served with reputation in Canada. Warner was 
 appointed colonel; Safford lieutenant-colonel of this regiment; 
 and most of the other officers were persons who had been dis- 
 tinguished by their opposition to the claims and proceedings of 
 New- York. By this appointment he was again placed in a situ- 
 ation perfectly agreeable to his inclination and genius; and in 
 conformity to his orders he repaired to Ticonderoga, where he 
 remained till the close of the campaign. 
 
 On January 16^ 1777, the convention of the New-Hampshire 
 Grants declared the whole district to be a sovereign and inde- 
 pendent state, to be known and distinguished ever after by the 
 name of Vermont. The committee of safety in New- York were 
 then sitting, and on January 20th, they announced the transac- 
 tion to congress, complaining in high terms of the conduct of 
 Vermont, censuring it as a dangerous revolt and opposition to 
 lawful authority; and at the same time remonstrating against 
 the proceedings of congress in appointing Warner to the com- 
 mand of a regiment independent of the legislature, and within 
 the bounds of that state; "especially, said they, as this colonel 
 Warner hath been constantly and invariably opposed to the 
 legislature of this stale, and hath been, on that account, pro- 
 claimed an outlaw by the late government thereof. It is abso- 
 lutely necessary to recall the commissions given to Col. Warner 
 and the officers under him, as nothing elseVill do us justice." 
 No measures were taken by congress at that time, either to inter- 
 fere in the civil contest between the two states, or to remove the 
 colonel from his command. Anxious to effect this purpose, the 
 Convention of New- York wrote further on the subject, on March 
 37 
 
•21KJ SETH WARNER. 
 
 1st, and among other things declared, " that there was not the 
 least probability that Col. Warner could raise such a number of 
 men as would be an object of public concern." Congress still 
 declined to dismiss so valuable an officer from their service. 
 On June 23d, congress was obliged to take up the controversy 
 between New- York and Vermont; but instead of proceeding 
 to disband the Colonel's regiment, on June 30th, they resolved 
 " that the reason which induced congress to form that corps, 
 was, that many officers of different states who had served in- 
 Canada, and alleged that they could soon raise a regiment, but 
 were .then unprovided for, might be reinstated in the service of 
 the United States." Nothing can give us a more just idea of 
 the sentiments which the American congress entertained of the 
 patriotic and military virtues of the colonel, than their refusing 
 to give him up to the repeated solicitations and demands of so 
 respectable and powerful a state, as that of New-York. 
 
 The American army stationed at Ticonderoga were forced to 
 abandon that fortress, on July 6, 1777, in a very precipitate and 
 irregular manner. The colonel with his regiment retreated 
 along the western part of Vermont, through the towns of 
 Orwell, Sudbury, and Hubardton. At the last of these towns, 
 the advanced corps of the British army overtook the rear of the 
 American troops, on the morning of the 7th of July. The 
 American army, all but part of three regiments, were gone for- 
 ward; these were part of Hale's, Francis' and Warner's regi- 
 ments. The enemy attacked them with superior numbers, and 
 the highest prospect of success. Francis and Warner opposed 
 them with great spirit and vigor; and no officers or troops could 
 have discovered more courage and firmness than they displayed 
 through the whole action. Large reinforcements of the enemy 
 arriving, it became impossible to make any effectual opposition. 
 Francis fell in a most honorable discharge of his duty. Hale 
 surrendered with his regiment. Surrounded on every side by 
 the enemy, but calm and undaunted, Col. Warner fought hhs 
 way through all opposition, brought off the troops that refused 
 to capitulate with Hale, checked the enemy in their pursuit, and 
 contrary to all expectations, arrived safe with his troops at Man- 
 
SETH WARNER. 291 
 
 chester. To the northward of that town the whole- country 
 was deserted. The colonel determined to make a stand at that 
 place ; encouraged by his example and firmness, a body of the 
 militia soon joined him; and he was once more in a situation 
 to protect the inhabitants, harass the enemy, and break up the 
 advanced parties. 
 
 On the 16th of August, the vicinity of Bennington became 
 the seat of a memorable battle. Colonel Baum had been des- 
 patched by General Burgoyne to attack the American troops 
 and destroy the magazines at Bennington. General Stark, who 
 commanded at that place, had intelligence of the approach of 
 the enemy; and sent orders on the morning of the 16th to Col. 
 Warner at Manchester, to march immediately to his assistance. 
 In the mean time Stark with the troops which were assembled at 
 Bennington, had attacked the enemy under Col. Baum, and after 
 a severe action had captured the whole body. Just as the action 
 was finished, intelligence was received that a large reinforce- 
 ment of the enemy had arrived. Fatigued and exhausted by 
 so long and severe an action, Stark was doubtful whether it was 
 posssible for his troops to enter immediately upon another bat- 
 tle with a fresh body of the enemy. At that critical moment 
 Warner arrived with his troops from Manchester. Mortified 
 that he had not been in the action, and determined to have some 
 part in the glory of the day, he urged Stark immediately to 
 commence another action. Stark consented, and the colonel 
 instantly led on his men to battle. The Americans rallied from 
 every part of the field, and the second action became as fierce 
 and decisive as the first. The enemy gave way in every dir^# 
 tion; great numbers of them were slain, and the rest saved 
 themselves altogether by the darkness of the night. Stark 
 ascribed the last victory very much to Colonels Warner and 
 Herrick; and spoke in the highest terms of their superior 
 information and activity, as that to which he principally owed 
 his success. The success at Bennington gave a decisive turn to 
 the affairs of that campaign. Stark, Warner, and the other 
 officers, with their troops, joined the army under Gen. Gates. 
 Victory every where followed the attempts of the northern 
 
292 SETH WARNER. 
 
 armv; and the campaign terminated in the surrender of Bur- 
 goyne and his whole army, at Saratoga, on October 17th, 
 1777. 
 
 The contest in the northern department being in a great mea- 
 sure decided by the capture of Burgoyne, Warner had no far- 
 ther opportunity to discover his prowess in defence of his be- 
 loved state: but served occasionally at different places on Hud- 
 son river, as the circumstances of the war required, and always 
 with reputation. Despairing of success in the northern parts, 
 the enemy carried the war into the southern states: and neither 
 New- York nor Vermont any longer remained the places of dis- 
 tinguished enterprise. But such had been the fatigues and 
 exertions' of the colonel, that when he returned to his family in 
 Bennington, his constitution, naturally firm and vigorous, ap- 
 peared to be worn down, and nature declined under a compli- 
 cation of disorders, occasioned by the excessive labours and suf- 
 ferings he had passed through. 
 
 Most ofthose men who have been engaged with uncommon 
 ardour in the cause of their country, have been so swallowed 
 up with the patriotic passion, as to neglect that attention to 
 their private interests Which other menpursue as the ruling pas- 
 sion. Thus it proved with Col. Warner: intent at first upon 
 saving a state, and afterwards upon saving a country, his mind 
 was so entirely engaged in those pursuits, that he had not made 
 that provision for his family, which to most of the politicians 
 and land jobbers was the ultimate end of all their measures 
 and exertions. With a view the better to support his family he 
 ftgioved to Woodbury; where in the year 1785, he ended an 
 active and useful life, in high estimation among his friends and 
 countrymen. 
 
 His fa,mily had derived little or no estate from his services. 
 After his death they applied to the general assembly of Ver- 
 mont for a grant of land. The assembly, with a spirit of justice' 
 and generosity, remembered the services of Col. Warner, took 
 up the petition, and granted a valuable tract of land to his 
 widow and family: a measure highly honorable to the memory 
 of Col. Warner and of that assembly."* 
 
 Williams' Vermont. 
 
(298) 
 
 JOSEPH WARREN, 
 
 Major General in the American Army. 
 
 ^Joseph Warren was born in Roxbury, near Boston, in the 
 year 1741. His father was a respectable farmer in that place 
 who had held several municipal offices, to the acceptance of 
 his fellow citizens. Joseph, with several of his brothers, was 
 instructed in the elementary branches of knowledge, at the 
 public grammar school of the town, which was distinguished 
 for its successive instructors of superior attainments. In 1755, 
 he entered college, where he sustained the character of a youth 
 of talents, fine manners, and of a generous independent deport- 
 ment, united to great personal courage and perseverance. An 
 anecdote will illustrate his fearlessness and determination at 
 that age, when character can hardly be said to be formed. Sev- 
 eral students of Warren's class shut themselves in a room to 
 arrange some college affairs, in away which they knew was 
 contrary to his wishes, and barred the door so effectually that he 
 could not without great violence force it: but he did not give 
 Over the attempt of getting among them; for perceiving that the 
 window of the room in which they were assembled was open, 
 and near a spout which extended from the roof of the building 
 to the ground, he went to the top of the house, slid down to the 
 eaves, siezed the spout, and when he had descended as far 
 as the window, threw himself into the chamber among them. 
 At that instant, the spout, which was decayed and weak, gave 
 way and fell to the ground. He looked at it without emotion, 
 said that it had served his purpose, and began to take his part 
 in the business. A spectator of this feat and narrow escape, 
 related this fact to me in the college-yard, nearl) half a century 
 afterward ; and the impression it made on his mind was so strong, 
 that he seemed to feel the same emotion as though it had hap- 
 pened but an hour before. 
 
 On leaving college in 1759, Warren turned his altention to 
 the study of medicine, under the direction of Doctor Lloyd, an 
 
294 # JO«FPH WARRFN. 
 
 eminent physician of that day, whose valuable life has been 
 protracted almost to the present time. Warren was distin- 
 guished very soon after he commenced practice; for when in 
 1764, the small-pox spread in Boston, he was among the most 
 successful in his method of treating that disease, which was 
 then considered the most dreadful scourge of the human race; 
 and the violence of which had baffled the efforts of the learned 
 faculty of medicine from the time of its first appearance. From 
 this moment he stood high among his brethren, and was the favor- 
 ite of the people; and what he gained in their good will he 
 never lost. His personal appearance, his address, his courtesy, 
 and hie humanity, won the way to the hearts of all; and his 
 knowledge and superiority of talents secured the conquest. A 
 bright and lasting fame in his professioi , with the attendant 
 consequences, wealth and influence, were within his reach, and 
 near at hand: but the calls of a distracted country were para- 
 mount to every consideration of his own interests, and he entered 
 the vortex of politics, never to return to the peaceful course of 
 professional labor. 
 
 The change in public opinion had been gradually preparing 
 the minds of most men for a revolution. This was not openly 
 avowed; amelioration of treatment for the present, and assu- 
 rances of kindness in future, were all that the colonies asked 
 from Great Britain — but these they did not receive. The 
 mother country mistook the spirit of her children, and used 
 threats where kindness would have been the best policy. When 
 Britain declared her right to direct, govern, and tax us in any 
 form, and at all times, the colonies reasoned, remonstrated, and 
 entreated for a while; and when these means did not answer, 
 they defied and resisted. The political writers of the province 
 had been active and busy, but they were generally screened by 
 fictitious names, or sent their productions anonymously into the 
 world: but the time had arrived, when speakers of nerve and 
 boldness were wanted to raise their voices against oppression in 
 every shape. Warren possessed first-rate qualities for an orator, 
 and had early declared in the strongest terms his political senti- 
 ments, which were somewhat in advance of public opinion; for 
 
 M 
 
JOSEPH WARREN. 2H5 
 
 he held as tyranny all taxation, which could be imposed by the 
 British parliament upon the colonies. In times of danger, the 
 people are sagacious, and cling to those who best can serve them; 
 and every eye was on him in every emergency; for he had not 
 only the firmness and decision they wished for in a leader, but 
 was prudent and wary in all his plans. His first object was to 
 enlighten the people; and then he felt sure of engaging their 
 feelings in the general cause. He knew when once they began, 
 it would be impossible to tread back — independence only would 
 satisfy the country. 
 
 With an intention of directing public sentiment, without ap- 
 pearing to be too active, he met frequently with a considerable 
 number of substantial mechanics, and others in the middling 
 classes of society, who were busy in politics. This crisis re- 
 quired such a man as they found him to be; one who could 
 discern the signs of the times, and mould the ductile materials 
 to his will, and at the same time seem only to follow in the path 
 of others. His letter to Barnard, which attracted the notice 
 of government, had been written several years before, in 1768; 
 but in some form or other he was constantly enlightening the 
 people by his pen: but it is now difficult, and of no great im- 
 portance to trace him in the papers of that period. The public 
 was not then always right in designating the authors of political 
 essays. In the different situations in which he was called to act, 
 he assumed as many characters as fable has ever given to the 
 tutelar god of his profession, and like him, in every one of them 
 he retained the wisdom to guide, and the power to charm. At 
 one time he might be found restraining the impetuosity, and 
 bridling the fury of those hot-headed politicians, who felt more 
 than they reasoned, and dared to do more than became men. 
 Such was his versatility, that he turned from these lectures of 
 caution and prudence, to asserting and defending the most bold 
 and undisguised principles of liberty, and defying in their very 
 teeth the agents of the crown. Twice he was elected to deliver 
 the oration on the 5th of March, in commemoration of the mas- 
 sacre; and his orations are among the most distinguished, pn> 
 duced by that splendid list of speakers who addressed their 
 
296 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 fellow-citizens on this subject, so interesting to them all. In 
 these productions, generally, the immediate causes of this event 
 were overlooked, and the remote ones alone were discussed. 
 Here they were on safe ground; for tyranny, in its incipient 
 stages, has no excuse from opposition*, but in its march, it gen- 
 erally finds some plausible arguments for its proceedings, drawn 
 from the very resistance it naturally produces. These occasions 
 gave the orators a fine field for remark, and a fair opportunity 
 for effect. The great orators of antiquity, in their speeches, 
 attempted only to rouse the people to retain what they pos- 
 sessed. Invective, entreaty, and pride had their effect in as- 
 sisting those mighty masters to influence the people. They 
 were ashamed to lose what their fathers left them, won by their 
 blood, and so long preserved by their wisdom, their virtues, and 
 their courage. Our statesmen had a harder task to perform: 
 for they were compelled to call on the people to gain what they 
 had never enjoyed — in independent rank and standing among 
 the nations of the world. 
 
 His next .oration was delivered March 6th, 1775. It was at 
 his own solicitation that he was appointed to this duty a second 
 time. The fact is illustrative of his character, and worthy of 
 remembrance. Some British officers of the army then in Bos- 
 ton, had publicly declared that it should be at the price of the 
 life of any man to speak of the event of March 5th, 1770, on 
 that anniversary. Warren's soul took fire at such a threat, so 
 openly made, and he wished for the honour of braving it. This 
 was readily granted; for at such a time a man would probably 
 find but few rivals. Many who would spurn the thought of 
 personal fear, might be apprehensive that they would be so far 
 disconcerted as to forget their discourse. It is easier to fight 
 bravely, than to think clearly or correctly in danger. Passion 
 sometimes nerves the arm to fight, but disturbs the regular cur- 
 rent of thought. The day came, and the weather was remark- 
 ably fine. The Old South Meeting-house was crowded at an 
 early hour. The British officers occupied the aisles, the flight 
 of steps to the pulpit, and several of them were within it. It 
 was not precisely known whether this was accident or design. 
 
JOSEPH WARREN. 297 
 
 The orator, with the assistance of his friends, made his entrance 
 at the pulpit window by a ladder. The officers seeing his cool- 
 ness and intrepidity, made way for him to advance and address 
 the audience. An awful stillness preceded his exordium. Each 
 man felt the palpitations of his own heart, and saw the pale bat 
 determined face of his neighbor. The speaker began his ora- 
 tion in a firm tone of voice, and proceeded with great energy 
 and pathos. Warren and hj.s friends were prepared to chastise 
 contumely, prevent disgrace, and avenge an attempt at assassi- 
 nation. 
 
 The scene was sublime; a patriot, in whom the flush of youth 
 and the grace and dignity of manhood were combined, stood 
 armed in the sanctuary of God to animate and encourage the 
 sons of liberty and to hurl defiance at their oppressors. The 
 orator commenced with the early history of the country, descri- 
 bed the tenure by which we held our liberties and property, 
 the affection we had constantly shown the parent country, and 
 boldly told them how, and by whom these blessings of life had 
 been violated. There was in this appeal to Britain — in this 
 description of suffering, agony and horror, a calm and high- 
 souled defiance hich must have chilled the blood of every sen- 
 sible foe. Such another hour has seldom happened in the his- 
 tory of man, and is not surpassed in the records of nations. 
 The thunders of Demosthenes rolled at a distance from Philip 
 and his host — and Tully poured the fiercest torrent of his invec- 
 tive when Cataline was at a distance, and his dagger no longer 
 to be feared: but Warren's speech was made to proud oppres- 
 sors resting on their arms, whose errand it was to overawe, and 
 whose business it n as to fight. 
 
 If the deed of Brutus deserved to be commemmorated by his- 
 tory, poetry, painting and sculpture, should not this instance of 
 patriotism and bravery be held in lasting remembrance? If he 
 
 " That struck the foremost man of all this world," 
 
 was hailed as the first of freemen, what honors are not due to 
 him, who, undismayed, bearded the British lion, to show the 
 world what his countrymen dared to do in tjie cause of liberty? 
 38 
 
i98 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 If the statue of Brutus was placed among those of the gods, 
 who were the preservers of Roman freedom, should not that of 
 Warren fill a lofty niche in the temple reared to perpetuate 
 the remembrance of our birth as a nation? 
 
 If independence was not at first openly avowed by our lead- 
 ing men at that time, the hope of attaining it was fondly cher- 
 ished and the exertions of the patriots pointed to this end. The 
 wise knew that the storm, which the political Prosperos were 
 raising, would pass away in blood. With these impressions 
 on his mind, Warren for several years was preparing himself by 
 study and observation, to take a conspicuous rank in the mili- 
 tary arrangements which he knew must ensue. 
 
 On the 18th of April, 1775, by his agents in Boston, he dis- 
 covered the design of the British commander to sieze or destroy 
 our few stores at Concord. He instantly despatched several 
 confidential messengers to Lexington. The late venerable pa- 
 triot, Paul Revere, was one of them. This gentleman has given 
 a very interesting account of the difficulties he encountered in 
 the discharge of this duty. The alarm was given, and the mi- 
 litia, burning with resentment, were at daybreak on the 19th, 
 on the road to repel insult and aggression. The drama was 
 opened about sunrise, within a few yards of the house of God. 
 in Lexington. Warren hastened to the field of action in the 
 full ardor of his soul, and shared the dangers of the day. 
 While pressing on the enemy, a musket-ball took off a lock" of 
 his hair close to his ear. The lock was rolled and pinned, after 
 the fashion of that day, and considerable force must have been 
 necessary to have tut it away. The people were delighted 
 with his cool, collected bravery, and already considered him 
 as a leader, whose gallantry they were to admire and in whose 
 talents they Avere to confide. On the 14th of June, 1775, the 
 Provincial Congress of Massachusetts made him a major gene- 
 ral of their forces, but previous to the date of his commission, 
 he had been unceasing in his exertions to maintain order and 
 enforce discipline among the troops, which had hastily assem- 
 bled at Cambridge, after the battle of Lexington. He mingled 
 to the ranks, and by every method and argument strove to in-- 
 
JOSEPH WARREN. 299 
 
 spire them with confidence, and succeeded in a most wonderful 
 manner in imparting to them a portion of the flame which 
 glowed in his own breast. At such a crisis genius receives its 
 birth-right — the homage of inferior minds, who for self-preser- 
 vation are willing to be directed. Previous to receiving the 
 appointment of major general, he had been requested to take 
 the office of physician general to the army, but he chose to be 
 where the wounds were to be made, rather than where they 
 were to be healed. Yet he lent his aid and advice to the me- 
 dical department of the army, and was of great service to them 
 in their organization and arrangements. 
 
 He was at this time president of the Provincial Congress, 
 having been elected the preceding year a member from the 
 town of Boston. In this body he discovered his extraordinary 
 powers of mind, and his peculiar fitness for responsible offices 
 at such a juncture. Cautious in proposing measures, he was 
 assiduous in pursuing what he thought, after mature delibera- 
 tion, to be right, and never counted the probable cost of a mea- 
 sure, when he had decided that it was necessary to be taken. 
 When this congress, which was sitting at Watertown, adjourned 
 for the day, he mounted his horse and hastened to the camp. 
 Every day ' he bought golden opinions of all sorts of men;' and 
 when the troops were called to act on Breed's Hill, he had so 
 often been among them, that his person was known to most of 
 the soldiers. 
 
 Several respectable historians have fallen into some errors in 
 describing the battle in which he fell, by giving the command 
 of the troops on that day to Warren, when he was only a volun- 
 teer in the fight. He did not arrive on the battle ground until 
 the enemy had commenced their movements for the attack. As 
 soon as he made his appearance on the field, the veteran com- 
 mander of the day, Colonel Prescott, desired to act under his 
 directions, but Warren declined taking any other part than that 
 of a volunteer, and added that became to learn the art of war 
 from an experienced soldier, whose orders he should be happy 
 to obey. In the battle he was armed with a musket, and stood 
 in the ranks, now and then changing his place to encourage hi? 
 
300 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 fellow-soldiers by words and by example. He undoubtedly, 
 from the state of hostilities, expected soon to act in his high 
 military capacity, and it was indispensable, according to his 
 views, that he should sh ue the dangers of the held as a common 
 soldier with his fellow-citizens, that his reputation for bravery 
 might be put beyond the possibility of suspicion. The wisdom 
 of sueh a course would never have been doubted, if he had re- 
 turned in safety from the fight. In such a struggle for indepen- 
 dence, the ordinary rules of prudence and caution could not 
 govern those who were building up their names for future use- 
 fulness by present exertion. Some maxims drawn from the 
 republican writers of antiquity were worn as their mottoes. 
 Some precepts descriptive of the charms of liberty, were ever 
 on their tongues, and some classical model of Greek, or Roman 
 patriotism, .was constantly in their minds. Instances of great 
 men mixing in the rank of common soldiers, were to be found 
 in ancient times, when men fought for their altars and their 
 homes. The cases were parallel, and the examples were impo- 
 sing. Vv hen the battle was decided, and our people fled, War- 
 ren Avas one of the last who left the breastwork, and was slain 
 within a few yards of it as he was slowly retiring. He proba- 
 bly felt mortified at the event of the day, but had he known 
 how dearly* the victory was purchased, and how little honour 
 was gained by those who won it, his heart would have been at 
 rest. Lil^e the band of Leonidas, the vanquished have received 
 by the judgment of nations, from which there is no appeal, the 
 imperishable laurels of victors. His death brought a sickness' 
 to the heart of the community, and the people mourned his fal^ 
 not with the convulsive agony of a betrothed virgin over the 
 bleeding corpse of her lover — but with the pride of the Spartan 
 mother, who in the intensity of her grief, smiled to see that the 
 wounds whence life had flown, were on the breast of her son — 
 and was satisfied that he had died in defence of his country. 
 The worth of the victim, and the horror of the sacrifice, gave 
 a higher value to our liberties, and produced a more fixed de- 
 termination to preserve them. 
 
 The battle of Bunker Hill has often been described, and of 
 
JOSEPH WARREN. 301 
 
 late its minutest details given to the public, but never was the 
 military, moral, and political character of that great event more 
 forcibly drawn, than in the following extract from the North 
 American Review, for July, 1818: — 
 
 " The incidents and the result of the battle itself, were most 
 important, and indeed, most wonderful. As a mere battle, few 
 Surpass it in whatever engages and interests the attention. It 
 was fought on a conspicuous eminence, in the immediate neigh- 
 borhood of a populous city; and consequently in the view of 
 thousands of spectators. The attacking army moved over a 
 sheet of water to the assault. The operations and movements 
 were of course all visible and all distinct. Those who looked 
 on from the houses and heights of Boston had a fuller view of 
 every important operation and event, than can ordinarily be had 
 of any battle, or that can possibly be had of suoh as are fought 
 on a more extended ground, or by detachments of troops acting 
 in different places, and at different times, and in some measure 
 independently of each other. — When the British columns were 
 advancing to the attack, the flames of Charlestown, (fired, as is 
 generally supposed, by a shell,) began to ascend. The specta- 
 tors, far outnumbering both armies, thronged and crowded on 
 every height and every point which afforded a view of the scene, 
 themselves constituting a very important part of it. 
 
 " The troops of the two armies seemed like so many comba- 
 tants in an amphitheatre. — Thp manner in which they should 
 acquit themselves, was to be judged of, not as in other cases of 
 military engagements, by reports and future history, but by a 
 vast and anxious assembly already on the spot, and waiting with 
 unspeakable concern and emotion the progress of the day. 
 
 " In other battles the recollection of wives and children has 
 been used as an excitement to animate the warrior's breast and 
 nerve his arm. Here was not a mere recollection, but an actual 
 presence of them and other dear connexions, hanging on the skirts 
 of the battle, anxious and agitated, feeling almost as if wound- 
 ed themselves by every blow of the enemy, and putting forth, 
 as it were, their own strength, and all the energy of their own 
 throbbing bosoms, iuto every gallant effort of their warring 
 friends. 
 
 
302 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 "But there was a more comprehensive and vastly more im- 
 portant view of that day's contest, than has been mentioned, — 
 a vtew, indeed, which ordinary eyes, bent intently on what was 
 immediately before them, did not embrace, but which was per- 
 ceived in its full extent and expansion by minds of a higher 
 order. Those men who were at the head of the colonial coun- 
 cils, who had been engaged for years in the previous stages of 
 the quarrel with England, and who had been accustomed to look 
 forward to the future, were well apprised of the magnitude of 
 the events likely to hang on the business of that day. They saw 
 in it not only a battle, but the beginning of a civil war, of un- 
 measured extent and uncertain issue. All America and all Eng- 
 land were likely to be deeply concerned in the consequences.. 
 The individuals themselves, who knew full well what agency 
 they had had, m bringing affairs to this crisis, had neec 7 of all 
 their courage ; — riot that disregard of personal safety, in Which 
 the vulgar suppose true courage to consist, but that high and 
 fixed moral sentiment, that steady and decided purpose, which 
 enables men to pursue a distant end, with a full view of the diffi- 
 culties and dangers before them, and with a conviction that, 
 before they arrive at the proposed end, should they ever reach 
 it, they must pass through evil report as well as good report, and 
 be liable to obloquy, as well as to defeat. 
 
 " Spirits, that fear nothing else, fear disgrace ; and this danger 
 is necessarily encountered by those who engage in civil war. 
 Unsuccessful resistance is not only ruin to its authors, but is 
 esteemed, and necessarily so, by the laws of all countries, trea- 
 sonable. This is the case, at least till resistance becomes so 
 general and formidable as to assume the form of regular war. 
 But who can tell, when resistance commences, whether it will 
 attain even to that degree of success? Some of those persons 
 who signed the Declaration of Independence in 1776, described 
 themselves as signing it,, "as with halters about their necks.'* 
 If there were grounds for this remark in 1776, when the cause 
 had become so much more general, how much greater was the 
 hazard, when the battle of Bunker Hill was fought? 
 
 "These considerations constituted, to enlarged and liberal 
 
JOSEPH | WARREN. 308 
 
 minds, the moral sublimity of the occasion; while to the out- 
 ward senses the movement of armies, the roar of artillery, the 
 brilliancy of the reflection of a summer's sun, from the bur- 
 nished armour of the British columns, and the flames of a burn- 
 ing town made up a scene of extraordinary grandeur." 
 
 This eminence has become sacred ground. It contains in its 
 bosom the ashes of the brave who died fighting to defend their 
 altars and their homes. Strangers from till countries visit this 
 spot, for it is associated in their memories with Marathon and 
 Plataeae, and all the mighty struggles of determined freemen. 
 Our citizens love to wander over tnis field — the aged to awake 
 recollections, and the youthful 10 excite heroic emotions. The 
 battle ground is now all plainly to be seen — the spirit of mod- 
 ern improvement, which would stop the streams of Helicon to 
 turn a mill, and cause to be felled the trees of Paradise to make 
 a rafter, has yet spared this hallowed height. 
 
 If "the days of chivalrj be gone forever, 1 ' and the high and 
 enthusiastic feelings of generosity and magnanimity be not so 
 widely diffused as in more heroic ages, yet it cannot be denied 
 but that there have been, and still are, individuals whose bosoms 
 are warmed with a spirit as glowing and etherial as ever swelled 
 the heart of "mailed knight," who, in the ecstacies of love, re- 
 ligion and martial glory, joined the war-cry on the plains of 
 Palestine, or proved his steel on the infidel foe. The history of 
 every revolution is i-terspersed with brilliant episodes of indi 
 vidual prowess. The pages of our own history, when full) 
 written out, will sparkle profusely with these gems of romantic . 
 valor. 
 
 The calmness and indifference of the veteran "in clouds of 
 dust and seas of blood," can only be acquired by long acquaint- 
 ance with the trade of death ; but the heights of Charlestown will 
 bear eternal testimony how suddenly, in the cause of freedom 
 the peaceful citizen can become the invincible warrior — stung 
 by oppression he springs forward from his tranquil pursuits, un- 
 daunted by opposition, and undismayed by danger, to fight even 
 to death for the defence of his rights. Parents, wives, children 
 and country, all the hallowed properties of existence, are to 
 
304 JOSEPH WARREN. 
 
 him the talisman that takes fear from his heart, and nerves hi? 
 arm to victory. 
 
 In the requiem over those who have fallen in' the cause oj 
 their country, which 
 
 " Time with his own eternal lips shall sing," 
 the praises of Warren shall be distinctly heard. The blood of 
 those patriots who have fallen in the defence of Republics has 
 often " cried from the ground" against the ingratitude of the 
 country for which it was shed. No monument was reared to 
 their fame, no record of their virtues written; no fostering hand 
 extended to their offspring — but they and their deeds were ne- 
 glected and forgotten. Toward Warren there was no ingrati- 
 tude — our country is free from this stain. Congress were the 
 guardians of his honour, and remembered that his children were 
 unprotected orphans. Within a year after his death, Congress 
 passed the following resolutions: — 
 
 " That a monument be erected to the memory of General 
 WarreD, in the town of Boston, with the following inscription: 
 
 IN HONOUR OF 
 
 JOSEPH WARREN, 
 
 Major General, of Massachusetts Bay. 
 
 He devoted his Life to the 
 
 liberties of his country, 
 
 and in bravely defending them., 
 
 fell an early victim in the 
 
 BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL, 
 
 June 17, 1775. 
 
 The Congress of the United States. 
 
 as an acknowledgment of his 
 
 services and distinguished 
 
 merit, have erected this 
 
 monument to his 
 
 memory. 
 
 It was resolved likewise, « That the eldest son of General 
 
 Warren should be educated from that time at the expense of 
 
 the United States.' On the first of July, 1780, Congress 
 
PELEG WADSWORTH. 305 
 
 recognising these former resolutions, further resolved 'That it 
 should be recommended to the executive of Massachusetts Bay 
 to make provision for the maintenance and education of his 
 three younger children. And that Congress would defray the 
 expense to the amount of the half pay of a major-general, to 
 commence at the time of his death, and continue till the 
 youngest of the children should be of age.' The part of the 
 resolutions relating to the education of the children, was car- 
 ried into effect accordingly. The monument is not yet erected, 
 but it is not too late. The shade of Warren will not repine at 
 this neglect, while the ashes of Washington repo9e without 
 gravestone or epitaph."* 
 
 PELEG WADSWORTH, 
 
 General of the Massachusetts Militia. 
 
 * The following is an abstract of an interesting narrative ta^ 
 ken from the travels of the late Dr. Dwight. 
 
 ' After the failure of the expedition against the British garri- 
 son at Penobscot, General Peleg Wadsworth was appointed in 
 the spring of 1780, to the command of a party of state troops 
 in Camden, in the District of Maine. At the expiration of the 
 period for which the troops were engaged, in February follow- 
 ing, General Wadsworth dismissed his troops, retaining six sol- 
 diers only as his guard, and he was making preparations to depart 
 from the place. A neighboring inhabitant communicated his 
 situation to the British commander at Penobscot, and a party of 
 twenty-five soldiers, commanded by Lieutenant Stockton, was 
 sent to make him a prisoner. They embarked in a small 
 schooner, and landing within four miles of the general's quar- 
 ters, they were concealed at the house of one Snow, a methodist 
 preacher, professedly a friend to him, but really a traitor, till 
 eleven o'clock in the evening, where they made their arrange- 
 ments for the attack on the general's quarters. The party 
 
 r * Biographical Sketches. 
 
 ?9 
 
30G TELEG WADSYVuRTH. 
 
 rushed suddenly on the sentinel, who gave the alarm, and one 
 of his comrades instantly opened the door of the kitchen, and 
 the enemy were so near as to enter with the sentinel. The lady 
 of the general, and her friend Miss Feuno, of Boston, were in 
 the house at the time; and Mrs. Wadsworth escaped from the 
 room of her husband into that of Miss Fenno. The assailants 
 soon became masters of the whole house, except the room where 
 the general was, and which was strongly barred, and they kept 
 up a constant firing of musketry into the windows and doors, ex- 
 cept into those of the ladies' room. Gen. Wadsworth was pro- 
 Tided with a pair of pistols, a blunderbuss, and a fusee, which 
 he employed with great dexterity, being determined to defend 
 himself to the last moment. With his pistols, which he dis- 
 charged several times, he defended the windows of his room, 
 and a door which opened into the kitchen. His blunderbuss 
 he snapped several times, but unfortunately it missed fire; he 
 then seized his fusee, which he discharged on some who were 
 breaking through one of the windows, and obliged them to flee. 
 He next defended himself with his bayonet, till he received a 
 ball through his left arm, when he surrendered, which termi- 
 nated the contest. The firing, however, did not cease from the 
 ki<chen, till the general unbarred the door, when the soldiers 
 rushed into the room; and one of them, who had been baclh 
 wounded, pointing his musket at his breast, exclaimed with an 
 oath, 'you have taken my life, and I will take yours.' But 
 Lieutenant Stockton turned the musket, and saved his life. 
 The commanding officer now applauded the general for his 
 admirable defence, and assisted in putting on his clothes, saying, 
 'you see we are in a critical situation; you must excuse haste.' 
 Mrs. Wadsworth threw a blanket over him, and Miss Fenno 
 applied a handkerchief closely around his wounded arm. In 
 this condition, though much exhausted, he, with a wounded 
 American soldier, was directed to march on foot, while two Brit- 
 ish wounded soldiers were mounted on a horse taken from the 
 general's barn. They departed in great haste. When they 
 had proceeded about a mile, they met at a small house a num- 
 ber of people who had collected, and who inquired if they had 
 
FELEG WADSWORTH. 307 
 
 taken General Wadsworth. They said no, and added that they 
 must leave a wounded man in their care; and if they paid pro- 
 per attention to him, they should be compensated; but if not, 
 they would burn down their house ; but the man appeared to be 
 dying. General Wadsworth was now mounted on the horse, 
 behind the other wounded soldier, and was warned that his 
 safety depended on his silence. Having crossed over a frozen 
 mill-pond, about a mile in length, they were met by some of their 
 party who had been left behind. At this place they found the 
 British privateer which brought the party from the fort: the 
 captain, on being told that he must return there with the pri- 
 soner and the party, and seeing some of his men wounded, be- 
 came outrageous, and damned the general for a rebel, demanded 
 how he dared to fire on the king's troops, and ordered him to 
 help launch the boat, or he would put his hanger through his 
 body. The general replied that he was a prisoner, and badly 
 wounded, and could not assist in' launching the boat. Lieu- 
 tenant Stockton, on hearing of this abusive treatment, in & 
 manner honourable to himself, told the captain that the pri- 
 soner was a gentleman, had made a brave defence, and was to 
 be treated accordingly, and added, that his conduct should be 
 represented to General Campbell. After this the captain 
 treated the prisoner with great civility, and afforded hirn every 
 comfort in his power. General Wadsworth had left the ladies 
 in the house, not a window of which escaped destruction. The 
 doors were broken down, and two of the rooms were set on fire, 
 the floors covered with blood, and on one of them lay a brave 
 old soldier dangerously wounded, begging for death, that he 
 might be released from misery. The anxiety and distress of 
 Mrs. Wadsworth was inexpressible, and that of the general was 
 greatly increased by the uncertainty in his mind respecting the 
 fate of his little son, only five years old, who had been exposed 
 to every danger by the firing into the house; but he had the 
 happiness afterward to hear of his safety. Having arrived at 
 the British post, the capture of General Wadsworth was soon 
 announced, and the shore thronged with spectators, to see the 
 man who, through the preceding year, had disappointed all the 
 
308 PELEG WADSWORTH. 
 
 designs of the British in that quarter; and loud shouts were- 
 heard from the rabble which covered the shore; but when he 
 arrived at the fort, and was conducted into the officers 1 guard- 
 room, he was treated with politeness. General Campbell, the 
 commandant of the British garrison, sent his compliments to 
 him, and a surgeon to dress his wounds; assuring him that his 
 situation should be made comfortable. The next morning, Gen. 
 Campbell invited him to breakfast, and at table paid him many 
 compliments on the defence he had made, observing, however, 
 that he had exposed himself in a degree not perfectly justifiable. 
 General Wadsworth replied, that from the manner of the attack 
 he had no reason to suspect any design of taking him alive, and 
 that he intended therefore to sell his life as dearly as possible. 
 *But sir,' says General Campbell, 'I understand that the cap- 
 tain of the privateer treated you very ill ; I shall see that matter 
 set right.' He then informed the prisoner, that a room in the 
 officers' barracks within the' fort was prepared for him, and that 
 he should send his orderly sergeant daily to attend him to break- 
 fast and dinner at his table. Having retired to his solitary 
 apartment, and while his spirits were extremely depressed by 
 a recollection of the past, and by his present situation, he re- 
 ceived from General Campbell several books of amusement, 
 and soon after a visit from him, kindly endeavoring to cheer 
 the spirits of his prisoner by conversation. Not long after, the 
 officers of the party called, and among others the redoubtable 
 captain of the privateer, who called to ask pardon for what had 
 fallen from him when in a passion: adding that it was not in his 
 nature to treat a gentleman prisoner ill; that the unexpected 
 disappointment of his cruise had thrown him off his guard, and 
 he hoped that this would be deemed a sufficient apology. This 
 General Wadsworth accepted. At the hour of dining he was 
 invited to the table of the commandant, where he met with all 
 the principal officers of the garrison, and from whom he received 
 particular attention and politeness. General Wadsworth soon 
 made application to the commandant for a flag of truce, by which 
 means he could transmit a letter to the governor of Massachu- 
 setts, aftd another to Mrs. Wadsworth: this was granted, on the 
 
 i a. 
 
PELEG WADSWORTH. ' 309 
 
 condition that the letter to the governor should be inspected. 
 The flag was intrusted to Lieutenant Stockton, and on his re- 
 turn, the general was relieved from all anxiety respecting his 
 wife and family. General Campbell, and the officers of the 
 garrison, continued their civilities for some time, and endea- 
 voured, by books and personal visits, to render his situation as 
 pleasant as circumstances would admit of. At the end of five 
 weeks, his wound being nearly healed, he requested of General 
 Campbell the customary privilege of a parole, and received in 
 reply, that his case had been reported to the commanding officer 
 at New- York, and that no alteration could be made till orders 
 were received from that quarter. In about two months, Mrs. 
 Wadsworth and Miss Fenno arrived ; and General Campbell, 
 and some of the officers, contributed to render their visit agree- 
 able to all concerned. About the same time, orders were re- 
 ceived from the commanding general at New- York, which were 
 concealed from General Wadsworth; but he finally learnt that 
 he was not to be paroled nor exchanged, but was to be sent to 
 England as a rebel of too much consequence to be at liberty. 
 Not long afterward Major Benjamin Burton, a brave and worthy 
 man, who had served under General Wadsworth the preceding 
 summer, was taken and brought into the fort, and lodged in the 
 same room with General Wadsworth. He had been informed, 
 that both himself and the general were to be sent, immediately 
 after the return of a privateer, now out on a cruise, either to 
 New-York or Halifax, and thence to England. The prisoners 
 immediately resolved to make a desperate attempt to effect their 
 escape. They were confined in a grated room in the officers' 
 barracks, within the fort. The walls of this fortress, exclusively 
 of the depth of the ditch surrounding it, were twenty feet high, 
 with fraising on the top, and chevaux-de-frise at the bottom. 
 Two sentinels were always in the entry, and their door, the upper 
 part of which was of glass, might be opened by these watchmen 
 whenever they thought proper, and was actually opened at sea- 
 sons of peculiar darkness and silence. At the exterior doors of 
 the entries, sentinels were also stationed; as were others in the 
 body of the fort, and at the quarters of Gen. Campbell. At the 
 
310 • PELEG WADSWORTH. 
 
 guard-house, a strong guard was daily mounted. Several sen- 
 tinels were stationed on the walls of the fort, and a complete 
 line occupied them by night. Without the ditch, glacis and 
 abattis, another complete set of soldiers patroled through the 
 night, also. The gate of the fort was shut at sunset, and a 
 piquet guard was placed on or near the isthmus leading from 
 the fort to the main land. 
 
 The room in which they were confined was railed with boards. 
 One of these they determined to cut off so as to make a hole 
 large enough to pass through, and then to creep along till they 
 should come to the next or middle entry; and then lower them- 
 selves down into this entry by a blanket. If they should not be 
 discovered, the passage to the walls of the fort was easy. In 
 the evening, after the sentinels had seen the prisoners retire to 
 bed, General Wadsworth got up and standing on a chair, at- 
 tempted to cut with his knife the intended opening, but soon 
 found it impracticable. The next day by giving a soldier a 
 dollar, they procured a gimblet. With this instrument they 
 proceeded cautiously and as silently as possible to perforate the 
 board, and in order to conceal every appearance from their 
 servants and from the officers their visiters, they carefully co- 
 vered the gimblet holes with chewed bread. At the end of 
 three weeks their labours were so far completed that it only 
 remained to cut with a knife the parts which were left to hold 
 the piece in its place. When their preparations were finished, 
 they learned that a privateer in which they were to embark was 
 daily expected. In the evening of the 18th of June, a very 
 ■severe storm of rain, with great darkness and almost incessant 
 lightning came on. This the prisoners considered as the propi- 
 tious moment. Having extinguished their lights, they began to 
 cut the corners of the board, and in less than an hour the in- 
 tended opening was completed. The noise which the operation 
 occasioned was drowned by the rain falling on the roof. Major 
 Burton first ascended to the ceiling, and pressed himself through 
 the opening. Gen. Wadsworth next, having put the corner of 
 his blanket through the hole and made it fast by a strong wooden 
 skewer, attempted to make his way through, standing on a chair 
 
PELEG WADSWORTH. 311 
 
 "below, but it was with extreme difficulty that he at length ef- 
 fected it, and reached the middle entry. From this he passed 
 through the door which he found open, and made his way to the 
 wall of the fort, and had to encounter the greatest difficulty 
 before he could ascend to the top. He had now to creep along 
 the top of the fort between the sentry boxes at the very moment 
 when the relief was shifting sentinels, but the falling of heavy 
 rain kept the sentinels within their boxes, and favoured his es-' 
 cape. Having now fastened Ins blanket round a picket at the 
 top, he let himself down through the chevaux-de-frise to the 
 ground, and in a manner astonishing to himself made his way 
 into the open held. Here he was obliged to grope his way 
 among rocks; stumps, and brush in the darkness of night, till he 
 reached the cove; happily the tide had ebbed and enabled him 
 to cross the water about a mile in breadth, and not more than 
 three feet deep. About two o'clock in the morning General 
 Wadsworth found himself a mile and a half from the fort, and 
 he proceeded through a thick wood and brush to the Penobscot 
 River, and after passing some distance along the shore, being 
 seven miles from the fort, to his unspeakable joy he saw his 
 friend Burton advancing towards him. Major Burton had been 
 obliged to encounter in his course equal difficulties with his 
 companion, and such were the incredible perils, dangers, and 
 obstructions, which they surmounted, that their escape may be 
 considered almost miraculous. It was now necessary they 
 should cross the Penobscot River, and very fortunately they 
 discovered a canoe with oars on the shore suited to their pur- 
 pose. While on the ri^erthey discovered a barge with a party 
 of British from the fort in pursuit of them, but by taking an 
 oblique course, and plying their oars to the utmost, they happily 
 eluded the eyes of their pursuers and arrived safe on the west- 
 ern shore. After having wandered in the wilderness for several 
 days and nights, exposed to extreme fatigue and cold, and with 
 no other food than a little dry bread and meal which they 
 brought in their poe'ets from the fort, they reached the settle- 
 ments on the River St. George, and no further difficulties at* 
 tended their return to their respective families."* 
 
 *Thacher's Military Journal. 
 
(312) 
 
 WILLIAM WASHINGTON, 
 
 Colonel in the American Army. 
 
 " He was the eldest son of Baily Washington, Esq. of Staf- 
 ford county, in the state of Virginia; and belonged to a younger 
 branch of the original Washington family. 
 
 In the commencement of the war, and at an early period of 
 life, he had entered the army, as captain of a company of infan- 
 try under the command of General Mercer. In this corps, he 
 had acquired from actual service a practical knowledge of the 
 profession of arms. 
 
 He fought in the battle of Long Island ; and in his retreat 
 through New-Jersey, accompanied his great kinsman, cheerful 
 under the gloom, coolly confronting the danger, and bearing, 
 with exemplary fortitude and firmness, the heavy misfortunes 
 and privations of the time. 
 
 In the successful attack on the British post at Trenton, Capt. 
 Washington acted a brilliant, and most important part. Per- 
 ceiving the enemy about to form a battery, and point it into a 
 narrow street, against the advancing American column, he 
 charged them, at the head of his company, drove them from 
 their guns, and thus prevented certainly the effusion of much 
 blood, perhaps the repulse of the assailing party. In this act 
 of heroism, he received a severe wound in the wrist. It is but 
 justice to add, that on this occasion, Captain Washington was 
 ably and most gallantly supported by Lieutenant Monroe, late 
 President of the United States, who als$ sustained a wound in 
 the hand. 
 
 Shortly after this adventure, Washington was promoted to a 
 majority in a regiment of horse. In this command he was very 
 actively engaged in the northern and middle states, with various 
 success, until the year 1780. Advanced to the rank of lieu- 
 tenant-colonel, and placed at the head of a regiment of cavalry, 
 composed of the remains of three that had been reduced, by 
 sickness and battle, he was then attached to the army under 
 Gen. Lincoln, engaged in the defence, of South-Carolina. 
 
WILLIAM WASHINGTON. 313 
 
 Here his service was various, and hi? course eventful; marked 
 by a few brilliant strokes of fortunes, but checkered with two 
 severe disasters. The first of these reverses, was at Monk's 
 Corner, where he himself commanded; the other, at Leneau's 
 Ferry, where he was second in command to Col White. 
 
 Inured to an uncommon extent and variety of hard service, 
 and sufficiently disciplined in the school of adversity, Colonel 
 Washington, although a young man, was now a veteran in mili- 
 tary experience. Added to this, he was somewhat accustomed 
 to a warm climate, and had acquired from actual observation, 
 considerable knowledge of that tract of country, which was to 
 constitute in future, the theatre of war. 
 
 Such was this officer, when at the head of a regiment of cav- 
 alry, he was attached to the army of General Greene. 
 
 One of his partisan exploits, however, the result of a well 
 conceived stratagem, must be succinctly narrated. 
 
 Having learnt during a scouting excursion, that a large body 
 of loyalists commanded by colonel Rudgley, was posted at 
 Rudgley's mill, twelve miles from Camden, he determined on 
 attacking them. 
 
 Approaching the enemy, he found them so secured in a large 
 log barn, surrounded by abattis, as to be perfectly safe from the 
 operations of cavalry. 
 
 Forbidden thus to attempt his object by direct attack, his 
 usual and favorite mode of warfare, he determined for once to 
 have recourse to policy. 
 
 Shaping, therefore, a pine log in imitation of a field piece, 
 mounting it on wheels, and staining it with mud to make it 
 look like iron, he brought it up in military slyle, and affected to 
 make arrangements to batter down the barn. 
 
 To give the stratagem solemnity and effect, he despatched a 
 flag warning the garrison of the impending destruction, and to 
 prevent bloodshed, summoned them to submission. 
 
 Not prepared to resist artillery, colonel Rudgley obeyed the 
 summons: and with a garrison of one hundred and three, rank 
 and file, surrendered at discretion. 
 
 Tijithe spring of 1782, colonel Washington married Miss Eh 
 
 40 
 
314 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 liot, of Charleston, and established himself at Sandy Hill, her 
 ancestral seat. 
 
 After the conclusion of peace, he took no other concern ia 
 public affairs, than to appear occasionally in the legislature of 
 South Carolina. 
 
 When General Washington accepted the command in chief 
 of the armies of the United States, under the presidency of Mr. 
 Adams, he selected as one of his staff, his kinsman colonel 
 William Washington, with the rank of brigadier-general. Had 
 other proof oeen wanting, this alone was sufficient to decide 
 his military worth. 
 
 In private life he was a man of unsullied honor, united to an 
 amiable temper, lively manners, a hospitable disposition, and a 
 truly benevolent heart."* 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, ESQ. 
 
 Conuuander-in-chicf of the American Army. 
 
 George Washington, commander-in-chief of the American 
 army during the war with Great Britain, and first president of 
 the United States, was the third son of Mr. Augustine Washing- 
 ton, and was born at Bridges Creek in the county of Westmore- 
 land Virginia, February 22d, 1732. His great-grandfather 
 had emigrated to that place from the north of England about 
 the year 1657. At the age of ten years he lost his father, and 
 the patrimonial estate descended to his elder brother, Mr. 
 Lawrence Washington, who in the year 1740 had been engaged 
 in the expedition against Carthagena. In honor of the British 
 admiral who commanded the fleet, employed in that enterprise, 
 the estate was called Mount Vernon. At the age of fifteen, 
 agreeably to the wishes of his brother, as well as to his own 
 urgent request to enter into the British navy, the place of 
 a midshipman in a vessel of war, then stationed on the coasf 
 of Virginia was obtained for him. Every thing was in readi- 
 ness for his departure, when the fears of a timid and affectionate 
 * Life of Greene* 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 315 
 
 mother prevailed upon him to abandon his proposed career on 
 the ocean, and were the means of retaining him upon the land 
 to be the future vindicator of his country's rights. All the ad- 
 vantages of education, which he enjoyed, were derived from a 
 private tutor, who instructed him in the English literature and 
 the general principles of science, as well as in morality ai;d re- 
 ligion. After his disappointment with regard to entering the 
 navy, he devoted much of his time to the study of mathematics; 
 and in the practice of his profession as a surveyor, he had an 
 ©pportunity of acquiring that information respecting the value 
 of vacant lands, which afterward greatly contributed to the in- 
 crease of his private fortune. At the age of nineteen, when the 
 militia of Virginia were to be trained for actual service, he was 
 appointed an adjutant-general with the rank of major. It was 
 /or a very short time, that he discharged the duties of his office. 
 In the year 1753, the plan formed by France for connecting 
 Canada with Louisiana by a line of posts, and thus of enclosing 
 the British colonies, and of establishing her influence over the 
 numerous tribes of Indians on the frontiers, began to be de- 
 veloped. In the prosecution of this design, possession had been 
 taken of a tract of land, then believed to be within the province of 
 Virginia. Mr. Dinwiddie, the lieutenant governor, being -de- 
 termined to remonstrate against the supposed encroachment, 
 and violation of the treaties between the two countries, des- 
 patched Major Washington through the wilderness to the Ohio, 
 to deliver a letter to the commanding officer of the French, and 
 also to explore the country. This trust of danger and fatigue 
 he executed with great ability. He left Williamsburgh, Oct. 
 31, 1753, the very day on which he received his commission, 
 and at the frontier settlement of the English engaged guides to 
 conduct him over the Alleghany mountains. After passing them 
 he pursued his route to the Monongahela, examining the country 
 with a military eye, and taking the most judicious means for se- 
 curing the friendship of the Indians. He selected the forks of 
 the Monongahela and Alleghany rivers as a position, which 
 ought to be immediately possessed and fortified. At this place 
 the French very soon erected Fort dt Quesne, which fell into 
 
316 GEORGE WASHINGTON- 
 
 the hands of the English in 1758, and was called by them FortT 
 Pitt. Pursuing his way up the Alleghany to French Creek, he 
 found at a fort upon this stream the commanding officer, to whom 
 he delivered the letter from Mr. Dinwiddiei On his return he 
 encountered great difficulties and dangers. As the snow was 
 deep and the horses weak from fatigue, he left his attendants 
 at the mouth of French Creek, and set out on foot, with his 
 papers and provisions in his pack, accompanied only by his pilot, 
 Mr. Gist. At a place upon the Alleghany, called Murderi: g- 
 town, they fell in with a hostile Indian, who was one of a party 
 then lying in wait, and who fired upon them, not ten steps dis- 
 tant. They took him into custody and kept him until nine 
 o'clock, and then let him go. To avoi.l the pursuit, which they 
 presumed would be commenced in the morning, they travelled 
 all night. On reaching the Monongahela T they had a hard day's 
 work to make a raft with a hatchet. In attempting to cross the 
 river to reach a trader's house, they were enclosed by masses of 
 ice, In order to stop the raft Major Washington put down his 
 setting pole; but the ice came with such force against it, as to 
 jerk him into the water. Pie saved himself by seizing one of 
 the raft logs. With difficulty they landed on an island, where 
 they passed the night. The cold was so severe, that the pilot's 
 hands and feet were frozen. The next day they crossed the 
 river upon the ice. Washington arrived at Williamsburg, Jan- 
 uary 16,1751. His journal, which evinced the solidity of his 
 judgment and his fortitude, was published. 
 
 As the French seemed disposed to remain upon the Ohio, it 
 was determined to raise a regiment of three hundred men to 
 maintain the claims of the British crown. The command was 
 given to Mr. Fry, and Major Washington, who was appointed 
 lieutenant-colonel, marched with two companies early in April. 
 1754, in advance of the other troops. A few miles west of the 
 Great Meadows, he surprised a French encampment in a dark, 
 rainy night, and only ©ne man escaped. Before the arrival of 
 the two remaining companies, Mr. Fry died, and the command 
 devolved on Colonel Washington. Being joined by two other 
 companies of regular troops from South Carolina and New 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 317 
 
 York, after erecting a small stockade at the Great Meadows, he 
 proceeded towards Fort du Quesne, which had been built but a 
 short time, with the intention of dislodging the French. He 
 had marched only thirteen miles to the westernmost foot of the 
 Laurel Hill, before he received information of the approach of 
 the enemy with superior numbers, and was induced to return to 
 his stockade. He began a ditch around it, and called it Fort 
 Necessity; but the next day, July the third, he was attacked by 
 fifteen hundred men. His own troops were only about four hun- 
 dred in number. The action commenced at ten in the morning 
 and lasted until dark. A part of the Americans fought within 
 the fort, and a part in the ditch filled with mud and water. Col. 
 Washington was himself on the outside of the fort during the 
 whole day. The enemy fought under cover of the trees and 
 high grass. In the course of the night articles of capitulation 
 were agreed upon. The garrison Were allowed to retain their 
 arms and baggage, and to march unmolested to the inhabited 
 parts of Virginia. The loss of the Americans in killed and 
 wounded was supposed to be about a hundred, and that of the 
 enemy about two hundred. In a few months afterward, orders 
 were received for settling the rank of officers, and those, who 
 were commissioned by the king, being directed to take rank of 
 the provincial officers, Colonel Washington indignantly resigned 
 his commission. He now retired to Mount Vernon, that estate 
 by the death of his brother, having devolved upon him. But in 
 the spring of 1755, he accepted an invitation from Gen. Brad- 
 dock to enter his family as a volunteer aid-de-camp, in his expe- 
 dition to the Ohio. He proceeded with him to Will's Creek, 
 afterwards called Fort Cumberland, in April. After the troops 
 had marched a few miles from this place, he was seized with a 
 /faging fever; but refusing to remain behind, he was conveyed 
 in a covered wagon. By his advice, twelve hundred men were 
 detached, in order, by a rapid movement, to reach Fort du 
 Quesne before an expected reinforcement should be received 
 at that place. These disincumbered troops were commanded 
 by Braddock himself, and Colonel Washington, though still ex- 
 tremely ill, insisted upon proceeding with them. After they 
 
 
316 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 arrived upon the Morion gahela, he advised the general to em- 
 ploy the ranging companies of Virginia, to scour the woods and 
 to prevent ambuscades; but his advice was not followed. On 
 the ninth of July, when the army was within seven miles of 
 Fort du Quesne, the enemy commenced a sudden and furious 
 attack, being concealed by the wood and high grass. In a short 
 time Colonel Washington was the only aid that was unwounded, 
 and on him devolved the whole duty of carrying the orders 
 of the commander-in-chief. He was cool and fearless. Though 
 he had two horses killed under him, and four balls through his 
 coat, he escaped unhurt, while every other officer on horseback 
 was either killed or wounded. Doctor Craik, the physician, 
 who attended him in his last sickness, wa6 present in this battle, 
 and says, "I expected every moment to see him fall. Nothing 
 but the superintending car^of Providence could have saved him 
 from the fate of all around him." After an action of three hours, 
 the troops gave way in all directions, and Colonel Washington 
 and two others brought off Braddock, who had been mortally 
 wounded. He attempted to rally the retreating troops; but as 
 he says himself, it was like endeavouring " to stop the wild bears 
 of the mountains." Tne conduct of the regular troops was most 
 cowardly. The enemy were few in numbers and had no expec- 
 tation of victory. 
 
 In a sermon, occasioned by this expedition, the Rev. Dr. Da- 
 vies, of Hanover county, thus prophetically expressed himself: 
 "as a remarkable instance of patriotism, I may point out to the 
 public that heroic youth, Colonel Washington, whom I cannot 
 but hope Providence has hitherto preserved in so signal a man- 
 ner for some important service to his country." For this pur- 
 pose he was indeed preserved, and at the end of twenty years 
 he began to render to his country more important services, than 
 the minister of Jesus could have anticipated. From 1755 to 
 1758 he commanded a regiment, which was raised for the pro- 
 tection of the frontiers, and during this period he was incessant- 
 ly occupied in efforts to shield the exposed settlements from the 
 incursions of the savages. His exertions were in a great de- 
 gree ineffectual, in consequence of the errors and the pride of 
 
George Washington. 319 
 
 government, and of the impossibility of guarding, with a few 
 troops, an extended territory from an enemy, which was averse 
 to open warfare. He, in the most earnest manner, recommended 
 offensive measures as the only method, of giving complete pro- 
 tection to the scattered settlement's. 
 
 In the year 1758, to his great joy, it was determined to un- 
 dertake another expedition against Fort du Quesne, and he 
 engaged in it with zeal. Early in July the troops were assem- 
 bled at Fort Cumberland; and here, against all the remon- 
 strances and arguments of Colonel Washington, Gen. Forbes 
 resolved to open a new road to the Ohio, instead of taking the 
 old route. Such was the predicted delay, occasioned by this 
 measure, that in November it was resolved not to proceed fur- 
 ther during that campaign. But intelligence of the weakness 
 of the garrison induced an alteration of the plan of passing the 
 winter in the wilderness. By slow marches the army was ena- 
 bled, on the 25th of November, to reach Fort du Quesne, of 
 which peaceable possession was taken, as the enemy on the 
 preceding night, after setting it on fire, had abandoned it, and 
 proceeded down the Ohio. The works in this place were 
 repaired, and its name was changed to that of Fort Pitt. The 
 success of the expedition was to be attributed to the British 
 fleet, which intercepted reinforcements, destined for Canada, 
 and to events in the norlhern colonies. The great object, which 
 he had been anxious to effect, being now accomplished, and his 
 health being enfeebled, Col. Washington resigned his commis- 
 sion as commander-in-chief of all the troops raised in Virginia. 
 
 Soon after his resignation he was married to the widow of 
 Mr. Custis, a young lady, to whom he had been for some time 
 strongly attached, and who to a large fortune and a fine person 
 added those amiable accomplishments, which fill with silent fe- 
 licity the scenes of domestic life. His attention, for several 
 years, was principally directed to the management of his estate, 
 which had now become considerable. He had nine thousand 
 acres under his own management. So great a part was culti- 
 vated, that in one year he raised seven thousand bushels of 
 wheat, and ten thousand of Indian corn. His slaves and other 
 
 
320 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 persons, employed by him, amounted to near a thousand; and 
 the woollen and linen cloth necessary for their use was chiefly 
 manufactured on the estate. He was at this period a respecta- 
 ble member of the legislature of Virginia, in which he took a 
 decided part in opposition to the principle of taxation, asserted 
 by the British Parliament. He also acted as a judge of a county 
 court. In 1 774 he was elected a member of the first Congress, 
 "and was placed on all those committees, whose duty it was to 
 make arrangements for defence. In the following year, after 
 the battle of Lexington, when it was determined by congress to 
 resort to arms, Colonel Washington was unanimously elected 
 commander-in-chief of the army of the united colonies. All 
 were satisfied as to his qualifications, and the delegates from 
 New-England were particularly pleased with his election, as it 
 would tend to unite the southern colonies cordially in the war. 
 He accepted the appointment with diffidence, and expressed his 
 intention of receiving no compensation for his services, and only 
 a mere discharge of his expenses. He immediately repaired to 
 Cambridge, in the neighborhood of Boston, where he arrived on 
 the second of July. He formed the army into three divisions 
 in order the most effectually to enclose the enemy, intrusting the 
 division at Roxbury to Gen. Ward, the division on Prospect and 
 Winter Hills to Gen. Lee, and commanding himself the centre 
 at Cambridge. Here he had to struggle with great difficulties, 
 with the want of ammunition, clothing, and magazines, defect 
 of arms and discipline, and the evils of short enlistments; but 
 instead of yielding to despondence he bent the whole force of 
 his mind to overcome them. He soon made the alarming dis- 
 covery, that there was only sufficient powder on hand to furnish 
 the army with nine cartridges for each man. With the greatest 
 caution to keep this fact a secret, the utmost exertions were em- 
 ployed to procpre a supply. A vessel, which was despatched to 
 Africa, obtained in exchange for New-England rum, all the gun- 
 powder in the British factories; and in the beginning of winter, 
 Capt. Manly captured an ordnance brig, which furnished the 
 American army with the precise articles, of which it was in the 
 greatest want. In September, General Washington despatched 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 321 
 
 \rnold on an expedition against Quebec. In February, 1776, 
 he proposed to a council of his officers to cross the ice and at- 
 tack the enemy in Boston, but they unanimously disapproved of 
 the daring measure. It was however soon resolved to take 
 possession of the heights of Dorc>. ester. This was done with- 
 out discovery on the night of the fourth of March, ^and on the 
 seventeenth the enemy found it necessary to evacuate the town. 
 The recovery of Boston induced congress to pass a vote of 
 thanks to Gen. Washington and his brave army. 
 
 In the belief that the efforts of the British would he directed 
 towards the Hudson, he hastened the army to New- York, where 
 he himself arrived on the fourteenth of April. He made every 
 exertion to fortify the city, and attention was paid to the forts 
 in the Highlands. While he met the most embarrassing diffi- 
 culties, a plan was formed to assist the enemy in seizing his 
 person, and some of his own guards engaged in the conspiracy; 
 but it was discovered, and some, who were concerned in it, 
 were executed. 
 
 In the beginning of July, Gen. Howe landed his troops at 
 Staten Island. His brother, Lord Howe, who commanded the 
 fleet, soon arrived; and as both were commissioners for restoring 
 peace to the colonies, the latter addressed a letter upon the sub- 
 ject to "George Washington, Esq." but the general refused to 
 receive it, as it did not acknowledge the public character, with 
 which he was invested by congress, in which character only he 
 could have any intercourse with his lordship. Another letter 
 was sent to "George Washington, &c. &c. &c." This for the 
 same reason was rejected. 
 
 After the disastrous battle of Brooklyn, on the 27th of Au- 
 gust, in which Stirling and Sullivan were taken prisoners, and 
 of which he was only a spectator, he withdrew the troops from 
 Long-Island, and in a few days he resolved to wrfjjjdraw from 
 New-York. At Kipp's Bay, about three miles from the city, some 
 works had been thrown up to oppose the enemy; but, on their 
 approach, the American troops fled with precipitation. Wash- 
 ington rode towards the lines, and made every exertion to pre- 
 vent the disgraceful flight. He drew his sword and threatened 
 
 41 
 
322 GEORGE WASHINGTON, 
 
 to run the cowards through; he cocked and snapped his pistoh', 
 but it was all in vain. Such was the state of his mind, at tliis- 
 moment, that he turned his horse towards the advancing enemy, 
 apparently with the intention of rushing upon death. His aids 
 now seized the bridle of his horse and rescued him from de- 
 struction. New-York was on the same day, September the 
 fifteenth, evacuated. In October he retreated to the White 
 Plains, where, on the twenty-eighth, a considerable action took 
 place, in which the Americans were overpowered. After the 
 loss of Forts Washington and Lee, he passed into New-Jersey, 
 in November, and was pursued by a triumphant and numerous 
 enemy. His army did not amount to three thousand, and it 
 was daily diminishing; his men, as the winter commenced, were 
 barefooted and almost naked, destuute of tents and utensils, 
 with which to dress their scanty provisions; and every circum- 
 stance tended to fill the mind with despondence. But General 
 Washington was undismayed and firm. He showed himself to 
 his enfeebled army with a serene and unembarrassed counte- 
 nance, and they were inspired with the resolution of their com- 
 mander. On the eighth of December he was obliged to cross 
 the Delaware; but he had the precaution to secure the boats 
 for seventy miles upon the river. While the British were wait- 
 ing for the ice to afford them a passage, as his own army had 
 been reinforced by several thousand men, he formed the reso- 
 lution of carrying the cantonments of the enemy by surprise. 
 On the night of the twenty-fifth of December, he crossed the 
 river, nine miles above Trenton, in a storm of snow, mingled 
 with hail and rain, with about two thousand and four hundred 
 men. Two other detachments were unable to effect a passage. 
 In the morning, precisely at eight o'clock, he surprised Trenton,, 
 and took a thousand Hessian prisoners, a thousand stand of arms, 
 and six field pieces. Twenty of' the enemy were killed. Of 
 the Americans two privates were killed, and two frozen to death; 
 and one officer and three or four privates were wounded. On 
 the same day he recrossed the Delaware with the fruits of his 
 enterprise; but in two or three days passed again into New- 
 Jersey, and concentrated his forces, amounting to five thousand*. 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 323 
 
 •&t Trenton. On the approach of a superior enemy, under Corn- 
 wallis, January 2, 1777, he drew up his men behind Assumpinck 
 Creek. He expected an attack in the morning, which would 
 probably result in a ruinous defeat. At this moment, when it 
 was hazardous, if not impracticable to return into Pennsylvania, 
 he formed the resolution of getting into the rear of the enemy, 
 and thus stop them in their progress towards Philadelphia. In 
 the night he silently decamped, taking a circuitous route through 
 Allen's Town to Princeton. — A sudden change of the weather to 
 severe cold rendered the roads favorable for his march. About 
 sunrise his van met a British detachment, on its way to join 
 Cornwallis, and was defeated by it; but as he came up he ex- 
 posed himself to every danger, and gained a victory. With 
 three hundred prisoners he then entered Princeton. 
 
 During this march many of his soldiers were without shoes, 
 and their feet left the marks of blood upon the frozen ground. 
 This hardship, and their want of repose, induced him to lead 
 his army to a place of security on the road to Morristown. 
 Cornwallis, in the morning, broke up his camp, and alarmed 
 for his stores at Brunswick, urged the pursuit. Thus the mili- 
 tary genius of the American commander, under the blessing of 
 divine Providence, rescued Philadelphia from the threatened 
 danger, obliged the enemy, which had overspread New-Jersey, 
 to return to the neighborhood of New- York, and revived the 
 desponding spirit of his country. Having accomplished these 
 objects, he retired to Morristown, where he caused his whole 
 army to. be inoculated for the small-pox, and thus was freed 
 from the apprehension of a calamity, which might impede his 
 Operations during the next campaign. 
 
 On the last of May he removed his army to Middlebrook, 
 about ten miles from Brunswick, where he fortified himself 
 very strongly. An ineffectual attempt was made by Sir Wil- 
 liam Howe to draw him from his position, by marching towards 
 Philadelphia: but after Howe's return to New- York, he moved 
 towards the Hudson, in order to defend the passes in the moun- 
 tains, in the expectation that a junction with Burgoyne, who 
 was then upon the lakes, would be attempted- After the British 
 
324 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 general sailed from New- York, and entered the Chesapeake, fa 
 August, General Washington marched immediately for the de- 
 fence of Philadelphia. On the eleventh of September, he was 
 defeated at Brandvwine, with the loss of nine hundred in killed 
 and wounded. A few days afterwards, as he was pursued, he 
 turned upon the enemy, determined upon another engagement; 
 but a heavy rain so damaged the arms and ammunition, that 
 he was under the necessity of again retreating. Philadelphia 
 was entered by Cornwallis on the twenty-sixth of September. 
 On the fourth of October, the American commander made a well- 
 planned attack upon the British camp at Germantown; but in 
 consequence of the darkness of the morning and the imperfect 
 discipline of his troops, it terminated in the loss of twelve hun- 
 dred men, in killed, wounded, and prisoners. In December, he 
 went into winter quarters at Valley Forge, on the west side of 
 the Schuylkill, between twenty and thirty miles from Pbiladel- 
 phia. Here his army was in the greatest distress for want of 
 provisions, and he was reduced to the necessity of sending out 
 parties to seize what they could find. About the same time a 
 combination, in which some members of congress were engaged, 
 was formed to remove the commander-in-chief, and to appoint 
 in his place Gates, whose successes ot late had given him a high 
 reputation. But the name of Washington was too dear to the 
 great body of Americans, to admit of such a change. Not- 
 withstanding the discordant materials, of which his army was 
 composed, there was something in his character, which enabled 
 him to attach both his officers and soldiers so strongly to him, 
 that no distress could weaken their affection, nor impair the 
 veneration, in which he was generally held. Without this at- 
 tachment to him, the army must- have been dissolved. General 
 Conway, who was concerned in this faction, being wounded in a 
 duel with General Cadwallader, and thinking his wound mortal, 
 wrote to General Washington, 'You are, in my eyes, the great 
 and good man.' On the first of February, 1778, there were 
 about four thousand men in camp, unfit for duty, for want of 
 clothes. Of these scarcely a man had a pair of shoes. The 
 hospitals also were filled with the sick. At this time, the enemy,. 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 325 
 
 it they had marched out of their winter quarters, would easily 
 have dispersed the American army. The apprehension of the 
 approach of a French fleet inducing the British to concentrate 
 their forces, when they evacuated Philadelphia on the seven- 
 teenth of June, and marched towards New- York, Gen. Wash- 
 ington followed them. Contrary to the advice of a council, 
 he engaged in the hattle of Monmouth on the twenty-eighth; 
 the result of which made an impression favourable to the cause 
 of America. He slept in his cloak on the field of battle, in- 
 tending to renew the attack the next morning; but at midnight 
 the British marched off in such silence, as not to be discovered. 
 Their loss in killed was about three hundred; and that of the 
 Americans sixty-nine. As the campaign now closed in the mid- 
 dle states, the American army went into winter quarters, in the 
 neighborhood of the Highlands upon the Hudson. Thus, after 
 the vicissitudes of two years, both armies were brought back to 
 the point, from which they set out. During the year 1779, Gen. 
 Washington remained in the neighborhood of New- York. In 
 January, 1 780, in a winter memorable for its severity, his utmost 
 exertions were necessary to save the army from dissolution. 
 The soldiers, in general, submitted with heroic patience to the 
 want of provisions and clothes. At one time, they ate every 
 kind of horse-food but hay. Their sufferings at length were so 
 great, that in March, two of the Connecticut regiments muti- 
 nied: but the mutiny was suppressed, and the ringleaders se- 
 rured. In September, the treachery of Arnold was detected. 
 In the winter of 1781, such were again the privations of the 
 army, that a part of the Pennsylvania line revolted, and marched 
 home. Such, however, was still their patriotism, that they de- 
 livered up some British emissaries to Gen. Wayne, who hanged 
 them as spies. Committing the defence of the posts on the Hud- 
 son to General Heath, General Washington in August marched 
 with Count Rochambeau for the Chesapeake, to co-operate with 
 the French fleet there. The siege of Yorktown commenced on 
 the twenty-eighth of September, and on the nineteenth of Octo- 
 ber, he reduced Cornwallis to the necessity of surrendering with 
 upwards of seven thousand men, to the combined armies of 
 
326 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 America and France. The day after the capitulation, he or- 
 dered that those who were under arrest should be pardoned, 
 and that divine service, in acknowledgment of the interposition 
 of Providence, should be performed in all the brigades and di- 
 visions. This event filled America with joy, and was the means 
 of terminating the war. 
 
 Few events of importance took place in 1782. In March, 
 1783, he exhibited his characteristic firmness and decision, in 
 opposing an attempt to produce a mutiny, by anonymous letters. 
 His address to his officers on the occasion, displays in a remark- 
 able degree his prudence, and the correctness of his judgment. 
 When he began to read it, he found himself in some degree em- 
 barrassed, by the imperfection of his sight. Taking out his 
 spectacles, he said, 'These eyes, my friends, have grown dim, 
 and these locks white in the service of my country, yet I have 
 never doubted her justice.' He only could have repressed the 
 spirit, which was breaking forth. On the nineteenth of April, 
 a cessation of hostilities was proclaimed in the American camp. 
 In June, he addressed a letter to the governors of the several 
 states, congratulating them on the result of the contest in the 
 establishment of independence, and recommending an indisso- 
 luble union of the states, under one federal head, a sacred 
 regard to public justice, the adoption of a proper peace estab- 
 lishment, and the prevalence of a friendly disposition among 
 the people of the several states. It was with keen distress, as 
 well as with pride and admiration, that he saw his brave and 
 veteran soldiers, who had suffered so much, and who had borne 
 the heat and burden of the war, returning peaceably to their 
 homes, without a settlement of their accounts, or a farthing of 
 money in their pockets. On the twenty-fifth of November, New- 
 York was evacuated, and- he entered it, accompanied by Gov. 
 Clinton, and many respectable citizens. On the fourth of De- 
 cember, he took his farewell of his brave comrades in arms. At 
 noon the principal officers of the army assembled at Frances' 
 tavern, and their beloved commander soon entered the room. 
 His emotions were too strong to be concealed. Filling a glass 
 'vith wine, he turned to them and said, ' With a heart full oi 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON, 32? 
 
 love and gratitude, I now take leave of you ; I most devoutly 
 wish, that your latter dajs may be as prosperous and happy, as 
 your former ones have been glorious and honourable' Having 
 drunk, he added,' I cannot come to each of you to take my leave r 
 but shall be obliged to you, if each of you will come and take 
 me by the hand.' General Knox, being nearest, turned to him. 
 Incapable of utterance, General Washington grasped his hand, 
 and embraced him. In the same affectionate manner, he took 
 his leave of each succeeding officer. In every eye was the tear 
 of dignified sensibility, and not a word was articulated, to inter- 
 rupt the silence and the tenderness of the scene. Ye men, who 
 delight in blood, slaves of ambition! when your work of car- 
 nage was finished, could ye thus part with your companions in 
 crime? Leaving the room, General Washington passed through 
 the corps of light-infantry, and walked to White-hall, where a 
 barge waited to carry him to Powles' Hook. The whole com- 
 pany followed in mute procession, with dejected countenances. 
 When he entered the barge, he turned to them, and waving his 
 hat, bade them a silent adieu; receiving from them the same 
 last, affectionate compliment. On the twenty-third of Decern 
 ber, he resigned his commission to congress, then assembled at 
 Annapolis. He delivered a short address on the occasion, in 
 which he said, 4 I consider it an indispensable duty, to close this 
 last solemn act of my official life, by commending the interests 
 of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty God, and 
 those who have the superintendence of them, to his holy keep- 
 ing.' He then retired to Mount Vernon, to enjoy again the 
 pleasures of domestic life. Here the expressions of the gratis 
 tude of his countrymen, in affectionate addresses, poured in upon 
 him, and he received every testimony of respect and veneration. 
 In his retirement, however, he could not overlook the public 
 interests. He was desirous of opening by water carriage, a 
 communication between the Atlantic and the western portions 
 of our country, in order to prevent the diversion of trade down 
 the Mississippi, and to Canada; from which he predicted con- 
 sequences injurious to the union. Through his influence, two 
 companies were formed for promoting inland navigation. The 
 

 328 GEORGE WASHINGTON". 
 
 legislature of Virginia presented him with three hundred shares 
 in them, which he appropriated to puhlic uses. In the year 
 1786, he was convinced, with other statesmen, of the necessity 
 of substituting a more vigorous general government in the place 
 of the impotent articles of confederation. Still he was aware 
 of the danger of running from one extreme to another. He 
 exclaims in a letter to Mr. Jay, 'What astonishing changes a 
 few years are capable of producing! 1 am told, that even res- 
 pectable characters speak of a monarchical form of government 
 without horror. From thinking proceeds speaking; thence to 
 acting is often but a single step. But how irrevocable, and 
 tremendous! What a triumph for our enemies to verify their 
 predictions! What a triumph for the advocates of despotism, 
 to find that we are incapable of governing ourselves, and that 
 systems, founded on the basis of equal liberty, are merely ideal 
 and fallacious!' In the following year, he was persuaded to 
 lake a seat in the convention, which formed the present consli- 
 tution of the United States; and he presided in that body. In 
 1789, he was unanimously elected the first president of the 
 United States. It was with great reluctance, that he accepted 
 this office. His feelings, as he said himself, were like those of 
 a culprit, going to the place of execution. But the voice of a 
 whole continent, the pressing recommendation of his particular 
 friends, and the apprehension, that he should otherwise be con- 
 sidered as unwilling to hazard his reputation in executing a 
 system, which he had assisted in forming, determined him to 
 accept the appointment. In April he left Mount Vernon to pro- 
 ceed to New- York, and to enter on the duties of his high office. 
 He every where received testimonies of respect and love. At 
 Trenton, the gentler sex rewarded him for his successful enter- 
 prise, and the protection which he afforded them twelve years 
 before. On the bridge over the creek, which passes through 
 the town, was erected a triumphal arch, ornamented with lau- 
 rels and flowers, and supported by thirteen pillars, each encir- 
 cled with wreaths of evergreen. On the front of the arch was 
 inscribed in large gilt letters, 
 
 THE DEFENDER OP THE MOTHERS WILL BE THE 
 PROTECTOR OF THE DAUGHTERS. 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 329 
 
 At this place he was met by a party of matrons, leading their 
 daughters, who were dressed in white, and who with baskets 
 of flowers in their hands, sung with exquisite sweetness, the 
 following ode, written for the occasion: 
 
 Welcome, mighty chief, once moffe 
 Welcome to this grateful shore ; 
 Now no mercenary foe 
 Aims again the fatal blow, 
 Aims at thee the fatal blow. 
 
 Virgins fair and matrons grave, 
 Those thy conquering arms did save, 
 Build for thee triumphal bowers; 
 Strew, ye fair, his way with flowers, 
 Strew your heroe's way with flowers. 
 
 At the last line the flowers were strewed before him. After 
 .receiving such proofs of affectionate attachment, he arrived at 
 New York, and was inaugurated first President of the United 
 States on the thirteenth of April. In making the necessary ar- 
 rangements of his household, he publicly announced, that nei- 
 ther visits of business nor of ceremony would be expected on 
 Sunday, as he wished to reserve that day sacredly to himself. 
 
 At the close of his first term of four years, he prepared a 
 valedictory address to the American people, anxious to return 
 again to the scenes of domestic life; but the earnest entreaties 
 of his friends, and the peculiar situation of his country, induced 
 him to be a candidate for a second election. During his ad- 
 ministration of eight years, the labor of establishing the differ- 
 ent departments of a new government was accomplished; and 
 he exhibited the greatest firmness, wisdom and independence. 
 He was an American, and he chose not to involve his country 
 in the contests of Europe. He accordingly with the unani- 
 mous advice of his cabinet, consisting of Messrs. Jefferson, 
 Hamilton, Knox and Randolph, issued a proclamation of neu- 
 trality, April 22, 1793, a few days after he heard of the com- 
 mencement of the war between England andFrance. This 
 measure contributed in a great degree, to the prosperity 
 of America. Its adoption was the more honourable 'o 
 the president, as the general sympathy was in favor of the 
 sjwster republic, against whom it was said Great Britain had 
 42 
 
880 GVOUGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 commenced the war for the sole purpose of imposing upon her 
 a monarchical form of government. He preferred the peace 
 and welfare of his country, to the breath of popular applause. 
 Another act, in which he proved himself to be less regardful of 
 the public partialitiesand prejudices, than of what he conceived 
 to be for the public good, was the ratification of the British 
 treaty. The English government had neglected to surrender 
 the western posts, and by commercial restrictions, and in other 
 ways, had evinced a hostile spirit towards this country. To 
 avert the calamity of another war, Mr. Jay was nominated as 
 envoy extraordinary in April, 1794. In June, 1795, the treaty 
 which Mr. Jay had made, was submitted to the senate, and was 
 ratified by that body on the condition, that one article should 
 be altered. While the president was deliberating upon it, am 
 incorrect copy of the instrument was made public by a senator, 
 and the whole country was thrown into a state of extreme irri- 
 tation. At this period, he, in August, conditionally ratified it, 
 and in February, 1796, when it was returned from his Brittan- 
 nic Majesty with the proposed alteration, he declared it to be 
 the law of the land. After this transaction, the house of repre- 
 sentatives requested him to lay before them the papers relating 
 to the treaty, but he, with great independence, refused to com- 
 ply with their request, as they could have no claim to an inspec- 
 tion of them, except upon a vote of impeachment, and as a com- 
 pliance would establish a dangerous precedent. He had be- 
 fore this shown a disposition to maintain the authority vested in 
 his office, by declining to affix his signature to a bill which had 
 fftised both houses. 
 
 As the period for a new election of a president of the United 
 States approached, and after plain indications that the public 
 voice would be in his favor, and when he probably would be 
 chosen for the third time unanimously, he determined irrevo- 
 cably to withdraw to the shades of private life. He published, 
 in September, 1796, his farewell address to the people of the 
 United States, which ought to be engraven upon the hearts of 
 his countrymen. In the most earnest and affectionate manner 
 he called upon them to cherish an immovable attachment to the 
 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 331 
 
 national union, to watch for its preservation with jealous anxi- 
 ety, to discountenance even the suggestion, that it could in any 
 event be abandoned, and indignantly to frown upon the first 
 dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country 
 from the rest. Overgrown military establishments he represented 
 as particHlarly hostile to republican liberty. While he recom- 
 mended the most implicit obedience to the acts of the estab- 
 lished government, andreprobated all obstructions to the execu- 
 tion of the laws, all combinations and associations, under what- 
 ever plausible character, with the real design to direct, control, 
 counteract, or awe the regular deliberation and action of the 
 constituted authorities; he wished also to guard against the spirit 
 of innovation upon the principles of the constitution. Aware 
 that the energy of the system might be enfeebled by altera- 
 tions, he thought that no change should be made without an 
 evident necessity, and that in so extensive a country, as much 
 vigor as is consistent with liberty, is indispensable. On the other 
 hand, he pointed out the danger of real despotism by breaking 
 down the partitions between the several departments of govern- 
 ment, by destroying the reciprocal checks, and consolidating 
 the different powers. Against the spirit of party, so pecu- 
 liarly baneful in an elective government, he uttered his most 
 solemn remonstrances, as well as against inverate antipathies or 
 passionate attachments in respect to foreign nations. While 
 lie thought that the jealousy of a free people ought to be con- 
 stantly and impartially awake against the insidious wiles of for- 
 eign influence, he wished that good faith and justice should be 
 observed towards all nations, and peace and harmony cultivated. 
 In his opinion, honesty, no less in public than in private affairs, 
 is always the best policy. Providence, he believed, had con- 
 nected the permanent felicity of a nation with its virtue. Other 
 subjects to which he alluded, were the importance of credit, 
 of economy, of a reduction of the public debt, and of literary 
 institutions: above all he recommended religion and morality 
 as indispensably necessary to political prosperity. "In vain," 
 says he, "would that man claim the tribute of patriotism, who 
 should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness. 
 
332 GEORGE WASHINGTON 
 
 these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens." Be« 
 queathing these counsels to his countrymen, he continued in 
 office till the fourth of March, 1797, when he attended the in- 
 auguration of his successor, Mr. Adams, and with complacency 
 saw him invested with the powers, which had for so long a time 
 been exercised by himself. He then retired to Mount Vernon, 
 giving to the world an example, most humiliating to its empe- 
 rors and kings; the example of a man voluntarily disrobing 
 himself of the highest authority, and returning to private life 
 with a character, having upon it no stain of ambition, of cove- 
 tousness, of profusion, of luxury, of oppression, or of injustice. 
 It was now that the soldier, the statesman and the patriot, 
 hoped to repose himself, after the toils of so many years. But 
 he had not been long in retirement, before the outrages of Re- 
 publican France induced our government to raise an army, of 
 which, in July, 1798, he was appointed commander-in-chief. 
 Though he accepted the appointment, his services were not de- 
 manded, and he himself did not believe that an invasion would 
 take place. Pacific overtures were soon made by the French Di- 
 rectory ; but he did not live to see the restoration of peace. On 
 Friday, December 13, 1799, while attending to some improve- 
 ments upon his estate, he was exposed to a light rain, which 
 wetted his neck and hair. Unapprehensive of danger, he passed 
 the afternoon in his usual manner; but at night he was seized 
 with an inflammatory affection of the windpipe. The disease 
 commenced with a violent ague, accompanied with some pain, 
 and a sense of stricture in the throat, a cough, and a difficult 
 deglutition; which were soon succeeded by fever, and a quick 
 and laborious respiration. About twelve or fourteen ounces of 
 blood were taken from him. In the morning, his family physi- 
 cian, Doctor Craik, was sent for; but the utmost exertions of 
 medical skill were applied in vain. The appointed time of his 
 death was near. Believing from the commencement of his 
 complaint that it would, be mortal, a few hours before his de- 
 parture, after repeated efforts to be understood, he succeeded 
 in expressing a desire that he might be permitted to die, with- 
 out being disquieted by unavailing attempts to rescue him from 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 333 
 
 his fate. After it became impossible to get any thing down his 
 throat, he undressed himself and went to bed, there to die. To 
 his friend and physician, who sat on his bed, and took his head 
 in his lap, he said with difficulty, 'Doctor, I am dying, and have 
 been dying for a long time; but I am not afraid to die.' Res- 
 piration became more and more contracted and imperfect, until 
 half past eleven on Saturday night, when, retaining the full 
 possession of his intellect, he expired without a struggle. 
 
 Thus, on the fourteenth of December, 1799, in the sixty- 
 eighth year of his age, died the father of his country, 'The 
 man, first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his 
 fellow-citizens.' This event spread a gloom over the country; 
 and the tears of America proclaimed the services and virtues of 
 the hero and sage, and exhibited a people not insensible to his 
 jrorth. The senate of the United States, in an address to the 
 president on this melancholy occasion, indulged their patriotic 
 pride, while they did not transgress the bounds of truth, in 
 speaking of their WASHINGTON. 'Ancient and modern 
 names,' said they, ' are diminished before'him. Greatness and 
 guilt have too often been allied; but his fame is whiter than it 
 is brilliant. The destroyers of nations stood abashed at the 
 majesty of his virtues. It reproved the intemperance of their 
 ambition, and darkened the splendor of victory. The scene is 
 closed, and we are no longer anxious lest misfortune should 
 sully his glory; he has travelled on to the end of his journey, 
 and carried with him an increasing weight of honor; he has 
 deposited it safely where misfortune cannot tarnish it, where 
 malice cannot blast it.' 
 
 General Washington was rather above the common stature; 
 his frame was robust, and his constitution vigorous. His exte- 
 rior created in the beholder the idea of strength united with 
 manly gracefulness. His eyes were of a grey colour, and his 
 complexion light. His manners were rather reserved than free. 
 His person and whole deportment exhibited an unaffected and 
 indescribable dignity, unmingled with haughtiness, of which all 
 who approached him, were sensible. The attachment of those 
 who possessed his friendship, was ardent but always respectful. 
 
334 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 His temper was humane, benevolent, and conciliatory ; bat there 
 was a quickness in his sensibility to any thing apparently offen- 
 sive, which experience had taught him to watch and correct. 
 He made no pretensions to vivacity or wit. Judgment rather 
 than genius constituted the most prominent feature of his char- 
 acter v As a military man he was brave, enterprising, and cau- 
 tious. At the head of a multitude, whom it was sometimes 
 impossible to reduce to proper discipline before the expiration 
 of their time of service, and having to struggle almost contin- 
 ually with the want of supplies, he yet was able to contend with 
 an adversary superior in numbers, well disciplined, and com- 
 pletely equipped, and was the means of saving his country. 
 The measure of his caution has by some been represented as 
 too abundant; but he sometimes formed a plan which his brave 
 officers thought was too adventurous, and sometimes contrary to 
 their advice he engaged in battle. If his name is not rendered 
 illustrious by splendid achievements, it is not to be attributed 
 to the want of military enterprise. He conducted the war with 
 that consummate prtfdence and wisdom, which the situation of 
 his country and the state of his army demanded. He also pos- 
 sessed a firmness of resolution, which neither dangers nor diffi- 
 culties could shake. In his civil administration he exhibited 
 repeated proofs of that practical good sense, of that sound judg- 
 ment which is the most valuable quality of the human mind* 
 More than once he put his whole popularity to hazard in pur- 
 suing measures, which were dictated by a sense of duty, and 
 which he thought would promote the welfare of his country. 
 In speculation he was a real republican, sincerely attached to 
 the constitution of the United States, and to that system of equal 
 political rights, on which it is founded. Real liberty, he thought, 
 was to be preserved only by preserving the authority of the 
 laws, and maintaining the energy of government. Of incor- 
 ruptible integrity, his ends were always upright, and the means 
 which he employed, were always pure. He was a politician, 
 to whom wiles were absolutely unknown. When any measure 
 of importance was proposed, he sought information, and was 
 ready to hear without prejudice, whatever could be said in re- 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 336 
 
 Station to the subject; he suspended his judgment till it was 
 necessary to decide: but after his decision had been thus deli- 
 berately made it was seldom shaken, and he was as active and 
 persevering in executing, as he had been cool in forming it. 
 He possessed an innate and unassuming modesty, which adula- 
 tion would have offended, which the plaudits of millions could 
 not betray into indiscretion, and which was blended with a high 
 sense of personal dignity, and a just consciousness of the respect 
 which is due to station. 
 
 With regard to the religious character of Gen. Washington, 
 there have been different opinions. In the extracts from some 
 of his letters which have been published by the historian of his 
 life, the name of the Supreme Being is once or twice introduced 
 in a manner, which, in common conversation is deemed irreve- 
 rent. It is also understood, that in a few instances during the 
 war, particularly when he met General Lee retreating in the 
 battle of Monmouth, his language was unguarded in this respect. 
 It may not be impossible, that a good man in a moment of ex- 
 treme irritation should utter a profane expression ; but perhaps 
 it is less possible, that such a man, when his passion has passed 
 away, and his sober recollections have returned, should not re- 
 pent bitterly of his irreverence to the name of God. On the 
 other hand, General Washington, when at the head of the army, 
 issued public orders, calling upon his officers to discountenance 
 the habit of profanity; he speaks in his writings of " the pure 
 and benign light of revelation," and of the necessity of imita- 
 ting "the charity, humility, and pacific temper of mind, which 
 were the characteristics of the Di- ine Author of our blessed 
 religion;" he gratefully acknowledged the interpositions of Pro- 
 Tidence in favour of this country; his life was upright and vir- 
 tuous; he principally supported an episcopal church in the 
 neighborhood of Mount Vernon, where he constantly attended 
 public worship; during the war he not unfrequently rode ten or 
 twelve miles from camp for the benefit of the institutions of 
 religion; and it is believed, that he every day had his hour of 
 retirement from the world for the purpose of private devotion. 
 General Washington was blessed with abundant wealth, and 
 
336 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 he was no( ignorant of the pleasure of employing it for generous 
 purposes. His style of living was dignified, though he main- 
 tained the strictest economy. While he was in the army, he 
 wrote to the superintendent of his estate in the following terms: 
 "Let the hospitality of the house be kept up with regard to the 
 poor. Let no one go hungry away. If any of this sort of peo- 
 ple should be in want of com, supply their necessities, provided 
 it does not encourage them in idleness. I have no objection to 
 your giving my money in charity, when you think it will be 
 well-bestowed ; I mean, that it is my desire, that it should be 
 done. You are to consider, that neither myself nor my wife are 
 in the way to do these good offices." Thus was he beneficent, 
 while at the same time he required an exact compliance with 
 engagements. A pleasing proof of the generous spirit which 
 governed him, is exhibited in his conduct towards the son of his 
 friend the Marquis de La Fayette. The marquis, after fighting 
 in this country for American liberty, had returned to France; 
 but in the convulsions of the French revolution he was exiled 
 and imprisoned in Germany. General Washington gave evi- 
 dence of sincere attachment to the unhappy nobleman, not only 
 by exerting all his influence to procure his release from confine- 
 ment, but by extending his patronage to his son, who made his 
 escape from France, and arrived with his tutor at Boston, in 
 1795. As soon as he was informed of his arrival, he wrote to a 
 friend, requesting him to visit the young gentleman and make 
 him acquainted with the relations between this country and 
 France, which would prevent the president of the United 
 States from publicly espousing his interest, but to assure him 
 of his protection and support. He also directed his friend to 
 draw upon him for moneys to defray all the expenses which 
 young La Fayette might incur. Towards his slaves General 
 Washington manifested the greatest care and kindness. Their 
 servitude lay with weight upon his mind, and he directed in 
 his will, that they should be emancipated on the decease of his 
 wife. There were insuperable difficulties in the way of their 
 receiving freedom previous to this event. On the death of Mrs. 
 Washington, May 22d, 1802, the estate of Gen. Washington, as 
 
ANTHONY WAYNE. 337 
 
 he had no children, was divided accefdini? to his will, among 
 his and her rela 1 ions. Itan unted by .1,3 own climate, to more 
 than five hundred thousand dolla s." 
 
 ANTHONY WAYNE, 
 
 Major-General in the American Army. 
 
 "Anthony Wayne, a major-general in the American army., 
 occupies a conspicuous station among the heroes and patriots 
 of the American revolution. He was born in the year 1745, in 
 Chester county, in the slate, then colony, of Pennsylvania. His 
 father, who was a respectable farmer, was many years a repre- 
 sentative for the county of Chester, in the general assembly, 
 before the revolution. His grand-father, who was distinguished 
 for his attachment to the principles of liberty, bore a captain's 
 commission under King William, at the battle of the Boyne. 
 Anthony Wayne succeeded his father as representative for the 
 county of Chester, in the year 1773; and from bis first appear- 
 ance in public life, distinguished himself as a firm and decided 
 patriot. He opposed, with much ability, the unjust demands 
 of the mother country, and in connexion with some gentlemen 
 of distingushed talents, was of material service in preparing the 
 way for the firm and decisive part which Pennsylvania took in 
 the general contest. 
 
 In 1775, he was appointed to the command of a regiment, 
 which his character enabled him to raise in a few weeks, in his 
 native county. Tn the same year he was detached under Gen. 
 Thompson into Canada. In the defeat which followed, in which 
 Gen. Thompson was made a prisoner, Colonel Wayne, though 
 wounded, displayed great gallantry and good conduct, in col- 
 lecting and bringing off the scattered and broken bodies of 
 troops. 
 
 In the campaign of 1776, he served under General Gates, at 
 Ticonderoga, and was highly esteemed by that officer for both 
 
 ♦Allen's Biographical Dictionary, 
 43 
 
338 ANTHONY WAYNE. 
 
 his bravery and skill as an engineer. At the close of that cam- 
 paign he was created a brigadier-general. 
 
 At the battle of Brandy wine, he behaved with his usual bra- 
 ver}', and for a long time opposed the progress of the enemy at 
 Chad's Ford. In this action, the inferiority of the Americans 
 in numbers, discipline, and arms, gave them little chance of suc- 
 cess; but the peculiar situation of the public mind was sup- 
 posed to require a battle to be risked: the ground was bravely 
 disputed, and the action was not considered as decisive. The 
 spirit of the troops was preserved by a belief that the loss of 
 the enemy had equalled their own. As it was the intention of 
 the American commander-in-chief to hazard another action on 
 the first favorable opportunity that should offer, Gen. Wayne 
 was detached with his division, to harass the enemy by every 
 means in his power. The British troops were encamped at 
 Tredyflfrin, and General Wayne was stationed about three miles 
 in the rear of their left wing, near the Paoli tavern, and from 
 the precautions he had taken, he considered himself secure, but 
 about eleven o'clock, on the night of the 20th September, Maj. 
 General Gray, having driven in his pickets, suddenly attacked 
 him with fixed bayonets. Wayne, unable to withstand the su- 
 perior number of assailants, was obliged to retreat; but formed 
 again at a small distance, having lost about one hundred and 
 fifty killed and wounded. As blame was attached by some of 
 the officers of the army, to General Wayne, for allowing him- 
 self to be surprised in this manner, he demanded a court mar- 
 tial, which, after examining the necessary evidence, declared 
 that he had done every thing to be expected from an active, 
 brave, and vigilant officer, and acquitted him with honor. 
 
 A neat marble monument has been recently erected on the 
 battle ground, to the memory of the gallant men who fell on 
 the night of the 20th September, 1777. 
 
 Shortly after was fought the battle of Germantown, in which 
 he greatly signalized himself, by his spirited manner of leading 
 his men into action. In this action, he had one horse shot under 
 him, and another as he was mounting; and at the same instant, 
 received slight wounds in the left foot and left hand. 
 
ANTHONY WAYNE. 339 
 
 In all councils of war, General Wayne was distinguished for 
 supporting the most energetic and decisive measures. In the 
 one previous to the battle of Monmouth, he and Gen. Cadwal- 
 ader were the only officers decidedly in favor of attacking the 
 British army. The American officers are said to have been in- 
 fluenced by the opinions of the Europeans. The Baron De 
 Steuben, and Generals Lee and Du Portail, whose military skill 
 was in high estimation, had warmly opposed an engagement, as 
 loo hazardous. But General Washington, whose opinion was 
 in favour of an engagement, made such disposition as would be 
 most likely to lead to it. In that action, so honorable to the 
 American arms, General Wayne was conspicuous in the ardor 
 of his attack. General Washington, in his letter to Congress, 
 observes, ' Were I to conclude my account of this day's trans- 
 actions without expressing my obligations to the officers of the 
 army in general, I should do injustice to their merit, and vio- 
 lence to my own feelings. They seemed to vie with each other 
 in manifesting their zeal and bravery. The catalogue of those 
 who distinguished themselves, is too long to admit of particu- 
 larizing individuals. I cannot, however, forbear mentioning 
 Brigadier-General Wayne, whose good conduct and bravery, 
 throughout the whole action, deserves particular commenda- 
 tion."* 
 
 "Among the many exploits of gallantry and prowess which 
 shed a lustre on the fame of our revolutionary army, the storm- 
 ing of the fort at Stony-Point has always been considered one of 
 the most brilliant. 
 
 "To General Wayne, who commanded the light-infantry of 
 the army, the execution of the plan was intrusted. Secrecy 
 was deemed so much more essential to success than numbers, 
 that it was thought unadvisable to add to the force already on 
 the lines. One brigade was ordered to commence its march so 
 as to reach the scene of action in time to cover the troops en- 
 gaged in the attack, in case of any unlooked for disaster; and 
 Major Lee, of the light-dragoons, who had been eminently use- 
 ful in obtaining the intelligence which led to the enterprise, was 
 
 * American Biographical Dictionary. 
 
340 ANTHONY WAYNE. 
 
 associated with General Wayne, as far as cavalry could be em- 
 ployed in such a service. 
 
 The night of the 15th of July, 1779, was fixed on for the as- 
 sault; and it being suspected that tue garrison would probably 
 be more on their guard towards day, twelve was chosen for the 
 hour. 
 
 Stony-Point is a commanding hill, projecting far into the Hud- 
 son, which washes three-fourths of its bai-e ; the remaining fourth 
 is in a great measure, covered by a deep marsn, commencing 
 near the river on the upper side, and continuing into it below. 
 Over this marsh, there is only one crossing place. But at its 
 junction with the river is a sandy beach passable at Jow tide. 
 Oi the summit of this hill was erected the fort, which" was fur- 
 nished with a sufficient number of heavy pieces of ordnance. 
 Several breastworks and strong batteries were advanced in front 
 of the principal work, and about half way down the hill, were 
 two rows of abattis. The batteries were calculated to com- 
 mand the beach, and the crossing place of the marsh, and to 
 rake and enfilade any column which might be advancing from 
 either of those points towards the fort. In addition to these 
 defences, several vessels of war were stationed in the river, so 
 as, in a considerable degree, to command the ground at the foot 
 of the hill. 
 
 The fort was garrisoned by about six hundred men, undei 
 the command of lieutenant-colonel Johnson. 
 
 At noon of the day preceding the night of attack, the light- 
 infantry commenced their march from Sandybeach, distant 
 fourteen miles from Stony-Point, and passing through an ex- 
 cessively rugged and mountainous country, arrived about eight 
 in the afternoon at Spring Steel's, one and a half miles from the 
 fort, where the dispositions for the assault were made. 
 
 It was intended to attack the works on the right and left 
 flanks at the same instant. The regiment of Febiger, and of 
 Meiggs, with Maj. Hull's detachment, formed the right column, 
 and Butler's regiment, with two companies under Maj. Murfree,. 
 formed the left. One hundred and fifty volunteers, led by 
 lieutenant-colonel Fleury and major Posey, constituted the van 
 
 I 
 
ANTHONY WAYNE. 341 
 
 of the right; and one hundred volunteers under Major Stuart, 
 composed the van of the left. At half past eleven, the two col- 
 umns moved on to the charge, the van of each with unloaded 
 musket6 and fixed bayonets. They were each preceded by a 
 forlorn hope of twenty men, the one commanded by lieutenant 
 Gibbon, and the other by lieutenant Knox, whose duty it was to 
 remove the abattis and other obstructions, in order to open a 
 passage for the columns which followed close in the rear. 
 
 Proper measures having been taken to secure every indivi- 
 dual on the route, who could give intelligence of their approach, 
 the Americans reached the marsh undiscovered. But unex- 
 pected difficulties having been experienced in surmounting this 
 and other obstructions in the way, the assault did not commence 
 until twenty minutes after twelve. Both columns then rushed 
 forward, under a tremendous tire of musketry and grape shot. 
 Surmounting every obstacle, they entered the works at the point 
 of the bayonet, and without having discharged a single piece, 
 obtained complete possession of the post. 
 
 The humanity displayed by the conquerors was not less con- 
 spicuous, nor less honourable, than their courage. Not a single 
 individual suffered after resistance had ceased. 
 
 All the troops engaged in this perilous service manifested a 
 degree of ardour and impetuosity, which proved them to be 
 capable of the most difficult enterprises; and all distingished 
 themselves whose situation enabled them to do so. Colonel 
 Fleury was the first to enter the fort, and strike the British 
 standard. Major Posey mounted the works almost at the same 
 instant, and was the first to give the watch-word — 'The fort's 
 our own.' Lieutenants Gibbon and Knox performed the service 
 allotted to them, with a degree of intrepidity which could not 
 be surpassed. Out of twenty men who constituted the party 
 of the former, seventeen were killed or wounded. 
 
 The loss sustained by the garrison was not considerable. 
 The return made by lieutenant-colonel Johnson, represented 
 their dead at only twenty, including one captain, and their 
 wounded, at six officers, and sixty-eight privates. The return 
 m#de by General Wayne states their dead at sixty-three, inclu- 
 
342 ANTHONY WAYNE. 
 
 ding two officers. This difference may be accounted for, by 
 supposing, that among those colonel Johnson supposed to be 
 missing, there were many killed. The prisoners amounted to 
 five hundred and forty-three, among whom were one lieutenant- 
 colonel, four captains, and twenty subaltern officers. The mil- 
 itary stores taken in the fort were also considerable. 
 
 The loss sustained by the assailants was by no means propor- 
 tioned to the apparent danger of the enterprise. The killed 
 and wounded did not exceed one hundred men. Gen. Wayne 
 himself, who marched at the head of Febiger's regiment in the 
 right column, received a slight wound in the head, which stunned 
 him for a time, but did not compel him to leave the column. 
 Being supported by his aids, he entered the fort with the regi- 
 ment. Lieutenant-colonel Hay was also among the wounded."* 
 
 The intrepidity, joined with humanity, its noblest companion, 
 displayed on that occasion, by General Wayne and his brave 
 follower*, cannot be too highly esteemed nor too frequently com- 
 memmorated. 
 
 General orders for the attack. 
 
 The troops will march at — o'clock, and move by the right, 
 makiig a halt at the creek, or run, on this side, next Clement's; 
 every officer and non-commissioned officer will remain with, and 
 be answerable tor every man in his platoon; no soldier to be 
 permitted to quit his ranks on any pretext whatever, until a 
 general halt is made, and then to be attended by one of the of- 
 ficers of the platoon. 
 
 When the head of the troops arrive in the rear of the hill, 
 Colonel Febiger will form his regiment into a solid column of a 
 half platoon in front as fast as they come up. Colonel Meiggs 
 will torm next in Colonel Febiger's rear, and Major Hull in the 
 rear of Meiggs, which will form the right column. 
 
 Colonel Butler will form a column on the left of Febiger,and 
 Major Murphy in his rear. Every officer and soldier will then 
 fix a piece of white paper in the most conspicuous part of his 
 hat or cap, as a mark to distinguish them from the enemy. 
 
 * Marshal's Life of Washington. 
 
ANTHONY WAYNE. 343 
 
 At the word march, colonel Fleury will take charge of one 
 hundred and fifty determined and picked men, properly officered, 
 with arms unloaded, placing their whole dependence on fixed 
 bayonets, who will move about twenty paces in front of the right 
 column, and enter the sally-port; he is to detach an officer and 
 twenty men a little in front, whose business will oe to secure the 
 sentries, and remove theabattis and obstructions for the column 
 to pass through. The column will follow close in the rear with 
 shouldered muskets, led by Colonel Febiger and Geieral Wayne 
 in person: — when the works are forced, and not before, the vic- 
 torious troops as they enter will give the watch-word 
 
 with repeated and loud voices, and drive the enemy from their 
 works and guns, which will favor the pass of the whole troops; 
 should the enemy refuse to surrender, or attempt to make their 
 escape by water or otherwise, effectual means must be used to 
 effect the former and prevent the latter. 
 
 Colonel Butler will move by the route (2,) preceded by one 
 hundred chosen men with fixed bayonets, properly officered, at 
 the distance of twenty yards in front of the column, which will 
 follow under Colonel Butler, with shouldered muskets. These 
 hundred will also detach a proper officer and twenty men a lit* 
 tie in front to remove the obstructions; as soon as they gain the 
 works they will also give and continue the watchword, which 
 will prevent confusion and mistake. 
 
 If any soldier presume to take his musket from his shoulder, 
 or to fire, or begin the battle until ordered by his proper officer, 
 he shall be instantly put to death by the officer next him; for the 
 misconduct of one man is not to put the whole troops in danger 
 or disorder, and he be suffered to pass with his life. 
 
 After the troops begin to advance to the works, the strictest 
 silence must be observed, and the closest attention paid to the 
 commands of the officers. 
 
 The general has the fullest confidence in the bravery and 
 fortitude of the corps that he has the happiness to command — the 
 distinguished honour conferred on every officer and soldier who 
 has been drafted in this corps by his excellency General Wash- 
 ington, the credit of the states they respectively belong to, and 
 
344 ANTHONY WAYNE. 
 
 their own reputations, will be such powerful motives for each 
 man to distinguish himself, thai the general cannot have the 
 least doubt of a glorious victory; and he hereby most solemnly 
 engages to reward the first man that enters the works with five 
 hundred dollars, and immediate promotion, to the second four 
 hundred dollars, to the third three hundred dollars, to the fourth 
 two hundred dollars, and to the fifth one hundred dollars; and 
 will represent the conduct of every officer and soldier, who dis- 
 tinguishes himself in this action, in the most favorable point of 
 view to his Excellency, whose greatest pleasure is in rewarding 
 merit. 
 
 But should there be any soldier so lost to every feeling of 
 honor, as to attempt to retreat one sirgle foot, or skulk in the 
 face of danger, the officer next to him is immediately to put 
 him to death, that he may no longer disgrace the name of a , 
 soldier, or the corps or state he belongs to. 
 
 As General Wayne is determined to share the danger of the 
 night — so he wishes to participate in the glory of the day in 
 common with his fellow-soldiers."* 
 
 "Immediately after the surrender of Stony-Point, General 
 Wayne transmitted to the commander-in-chief, the following la- 
 conic letter: — 
 
 " Stony-Point, July 16, 1779. 
 "2 o'clock, A. M. 
 
 "Dear General — The fort and garrison, with Col. Johnson, 
 are ours; our officers and men behaved like men determined to 
 be free. Yours most sincerely, 
 
 " Anthony Wayne. 
 
 *' General Washington." 
 
 In the campaign of 1781, in which Lord Cornwallis, and a 
 British army were obliged to surrender prisoners of war, he 
 bore a conspicuous part. His presence of mind never failed 
 him in the most critical situations. Of this he gave an emi- 
 nent example on the James river. Having been deceived by 
 some false information, into a belief that the British army had 
 passed the river, leaving but the rear-guard behind, he hastened 
 
 * Analectic Magazine. 
 
ft 
 
ANTHONY WAYNE. 345 
 
 to attack the latter before it should also have effected its passage ; 
 but on pushing through a morass and wood, instead of the rear- 
 guard, he found the whole British army drawn up close to him. 
 His situation did not admit of a moment's deliberation. Con- 
 ceiving the boldest to be the safest measure, he immediately 
 led his small detachment, not exceeding 800 men, to the charge, 
 and after a short, but very smart and close firing, in which he 
 lost 118 of his men, he succeeded in bringing off the rest under 
 cover of the wood. Lord Cornwallis, suspecting the attack to 
 be a feint, in order to draw him into an ambuscade, would not 
 permit his troops to pursue. 
 
 The enemy having made a considerable head in Georgia 
 Wayne was despatched by General Washington to take com- 
 mand of the forces in that state, and, after some sanguinary enr 
 gagements, succeeded in establishing security and order. For 
 his services in that state, the legislature presented him with a 
 valuable farm. 
 
 On the peace, which followed shortly after, he retired to 
 private life: but in 1789, we find him a member of the Penn- 
 sylvania convention, and one of those in favor of the present 
 federal constitution of the United States. 
 
 In the year 1792, he was appointed to succeed General St, 
 Clair, who had resigned the command of the army engaged 
 against the Indians on our western frontier. Wayne formed an 
 encampment at Pittsburgh, and such exemplary discipline was 
 introduced among the new troops, that, on their advance into 
 the Indian country, they appeared like veterans. 
 
 The Indians had collected in great numbers, and it was ne- 
 cessary not only to route them, but to occupy their country by 
 a chain of posts, that should, for the future, check their preda- 
 tory incursions. Pursuing this regular and systematic mode of 
 advance, the autumn of. 1793 found General Wayne with his 
 army, at a post in the wilderness, called Greenville, about six 
 miles in advance of Fort Jefferson, where he determined to en 
 camp for the winter, in order to make the necessary arrange- 
 ments for opening the campaign to effect early in the following 
 spring. After fortifying his camp, he took possession of the 
 
 44 
 
21G ANTHONY WAYN'K. 
 
 ground on which the Americans had been defeated in I79f«, 
 which lie fortified also, and called the work Fori Recovery* 
 Here he piously collected, and, with the honors of war, interred 
 the bones of the unfortunate although gallant victims of the 4th 
 of November, 1791. The situation of the army, menacing the 
 Indian villages, effectually prevented any attack on the white 
 settlements. The impossibility of procuring the necessary sup- 
 plies prevented the march of the troops till the summer. On 
 the 8(n of August, the army arrived at the junction of the rivers 
 Au Glaize and Miami of the lakes, where they erected works 
 for the protection of the stores. About thirty miles from this 
 place the British had formed a post, in the vicinity of which the 
 Indians had assembled their whole force. On the 1 5th the army 
 again advanced down the Miami, and on the 1 8th arrived at the 
 R.tpids. On the following day they erected some works for the 
 protection of the baggage. The situation of the enemy wa9 
 re. onnoitered, and they were found posted in a thick wood, in 
 the rear of the British fort. Oa the 20th, the army advanced 
 to the attack. The Miami covered the right flank, and on the 
 left were the mounted volunteers, commanded by Gen. Todd. 
 After m;irching about five miles, Major Price, w-.o led the ad- 
 vance, received so he:i\ \ a fire from the Indians, who were sta- 
 tioned behind the trees, that he was compelled to fall back. 
 The enemy had occupied a wood in the front of the British 
 fort, which, from the quantity of fallen timber, could not be 
 entered by the horse. The legion was immediately ordered to 
 advance with trailed arms, and rouse them from their covert; 
 the cavalry under Captain Campbell, were directed to pa-ss be- 
 tween the Indians and the river, while the volunteers, led by 
 General Scott, made a circuit to turn their flank. So rapid, 
 however, was the charge of the legion, that before the rest of 
 of the army could get into action, the enemy were completely 
 routed, and driven through the woods for more than two miles, 
 and the troops halted within gun-shot of the British fort. AIL 
 the Indians' houses and cornfields were destroyed. In this de- 
 cisive actio i, the whole loss of General Wayne's army, in killed 
 and wounded, amounted only to one hundred and seven men,.' 
 
OTHO H. WILLIAMS. 34? 
 
 As hostilities continued on the part of the Indians, their whole 
 country was laid waste, and forts established, which effectually 
 prevented their return. 
 
 The success of this engagement destroyed the enemies' pow« 
 er; and, Hi the following year, Gen. Wayne concluded a defini- 
 tive treaty of peace with them. 
 
 A life of peril and glory was terminated in December, 1796. 
 He had shielded his country from the murderous tomahawk of 
 the savage. He had established her boundaries. He had 
 forced her enemies to sue for her protection. He beheld her tri- 
 umphant, rich in arts and potent in arms. What more could 
 his patriotic spirit wish to see? He died in a hut on Presque 
 Isle, aged about fifty-one years, and was buried on the shore of 
 Lake Erie. 
 
 A few years since his bones were taken up by his son, Isaac 
 Wayne, Esq. and entombed in his native county; and by direc- 
 tion of the Pennsylvania State Society of the Cincinnati, an 
 elegant monument was erected. It is to be seen within the 
 cemetery of St. David's Church, situated in Chester county. 
 It is constructed of white marble, of the most correct symmetry 
 and beauty."* 
 
 OTHO H. WILLIAMS, 
 
 Brigadier-General in the American Army. 
 
 "This gentleman was formed for eminence in any station. 
 His talents were of a high order, and his attainments various 
 and extensive. Possessing a person of uncommon symmetry, 
 and peculiarly distinguished by the elegance of his manners, 
 he would have graced, alike, a court or a camp. 
 
 Rich in that species of military science which is acquired by 
 experience, and a correct, systematic, and severe disciplinarian, 
 General Greene confided to him the important trust of adjutant- 
 general to the southern army. The services which, in this and 
 
 * American Biographical Dictionary. 
 
348 OTHO H. WILLIAMS. 
 
 other capacities, he rendered to that division of the American 
 forces, in the course of their toilsome and perilous operations 
 were beyond all praise. 
 
 He was born in the county of Prince George, in the year 
 1748, and received, during his youth, but a slender education. 
 This he so much improved by subsequent study, that few men 
 had a finer taste, or a more cultivated intellect. 
 
 He commenced his military career, as lieutenant of a rifle 
 company, in 1775; and, in the course of the following year, 
 was promoted to the rank of a major in a rifle regiment. 
 
 In this corps he very honorably distinguished himself in the 
 defence of Fort Washington, on York Island, when assaulted by 
 Sir William Howe ; and, on the surrender of that post became 
 a prisoner. 
 
 Having suffered much by close confinement, during his cap- 
 tivity, he was exchanged for Major Ackland, after the capture 
 of Burgoyne, and immediately rejoined the standard of his 
 country. 
 
 Being now promoted to the rank of colonel of a regiment of 
 infantry, he was detached, under the Baron De Kalb, to the 
 army of the south. 
 
 General Gates having been appointed to the command of this 
 division of the American forces, he was present with that of- 
 ficer, at his defeat before Camden; and during the action 
 manifested great valor and skill, in directing and leading the 
 operations against the enemy, while resistance was practicable; 
 and an equal degree of self-possession and address, in conduct- 
 ing the troops from the field, when compelled to retreat. 
 
 But as an officer, his valor and skill in battle were among the 
 lowest of his qualifications. His penetration and sagacity, 
 united to a profound judgment, and a capacious mind, rendered 
 him, in the cabinet, particularly valuable. 
 
 Hence he was one of General Greene's favorite counsellors, 
 during the whole of his southern campaigns. Nor did any thing 
 ever occur, either through neglect or mistake, to impair the 
 confidence thus reposed in him. In no inconsiderable degree, 
 he was to Greene, what that officer had been to General Wash- 
 
OTHO H. WILLIAMS. 349 
 
 ington, his strongest hope in all emergencies, where great policy 
 and address were required. 
 
 This was clearly manifested, by the post assigned to him by 
 General Greene, during his celebrated retreat through North 
 Carolina. 
 
 In that great and memorable movement, on which the fate of 
 the south was staked, to Williams was confided the command, 
 of the rear-guard, which was literally the shield and rampart 
 of the army. Had he relaxed, but for a moment, in his vigi- 
 lance and exertion, or been guilty of a single imprudent act, 
 ruin must have ensued. 
 
 Nor was his command much less momentous, when, recrossing 
 the Dan, Greene again advanced on the enemy. Still in the 
 post of danger and honor, he now, in the van of the army, com- 
 manded the same corps with which he had previously moved in 
 the rear. 
 
 A military friend, who knew him well, has given us the fol- 
 lowing summary of his character: 
 
 4 He possessed that range of mind, although self-educated, 
 which entitled him to the highest military station, and was ac- 
 tuated by true courage, which can refuse, as well ay give bailie. 
 Soaring far above the reach of vulgar praise, he singly aimed 
 at promoting the common weal, satisfied villi the consciousness 
 of doing right, and desiring only that share of applause, which 
 was justly his own. 
 
 There was a loftiness and liberality in his character, which 
 forbade resort to intrigue and hypocrisy in the accomplishment 
 of his vie vs, and rejected the contemptible practice of dispa- 
 raging others to exalt himself. 
 
 In the held of battle he was self-possessed, intelligent, and 
 ardent ; in camp, circumspect, attentive, and systematic ; in coun- 
 cil, sincere, deep, and perspicuous. During the campaigns of 
 General Greene, he was uniformly one of his few advisers, and 
 held his unchanged confidence. Nor was he less esteemed by 
 his brother officers, or less respected by his soldiery.' 
 
 Shortly before the close of the war, he was promoted to the 
 rank of brigadier-general."* 
 
 * Life of Greene. 
 
(350) 
 
 BENEDICT ARNOLD, 
 
 The Traitor. 
 
 tt Benedict Arnold, a major-general in the American army 
 during the revolutionary war, and infamous foi deserting the 
 cause of his country, was early chosen captain of a volunteer 
 company in New-Haven, Connecticut, where he lived. After 
 hearing of the battle of Lexington, he immediately marched, 
 with his company, for the Am&rican head-quarters, and reached 
 Cambridge, April 29, 1775. 
 
 He immediately waited on the Massachusetts committee of 
 safety, and informed them of the defenceless state of Ticonde- 
 roga. The committee appointed him a colonel, and commis- 
 sioned him to raise four hundred men, and to take that fortress. 
 He proceeded directly to Vermont, and when he arrived at 
 Castleton, was attended by one servant only. Here he joined 
 Colonel Allen, and on the tenth of May, the fortress was taken. 
 
 In the fall of 1775, he was sent by the commander-in-chief 
 to penetrate through the wilderness of the District of Maine, 
 into Canada. On the 16th of September, he commenced his 
 march, with about one thousand men, consisting of N.England 
 infantry, some volunteers, a company of artillery, and three 
 companies of riflemen. One division was obliged to return, or 
 it would have perished by hunger. After sustaining almost 
 incredible hardships, he in six weeks arrived at Point Levi, op- 
 posite to Quebec. The appearance of an army emerging from 
 the wilderness, threw the city into the greatest consternation. 
 In this moment of surprise, Arnold might probably have become 
 master of the place; but the small crafts and boats in the river 
 were removed out of his reach. 
 
 It seems that his approach was not altogether unexpected. 
 He had imprudently, a number of days before, sent forward a 
 letter to a friend, by an Indian, who betrayed him. A delay of 
 several days, on account of the difficulty of passing the river 
 was inevitable: and the critical moment was lost. 
 
BENEDICT ARNOLD. 351 
 
 On the 14th of November, he crossed the St. Lawrence in 
 the night; a-id ascending the precipice which Wolfe had climbed 
 before him, formed his small corps on the height, near the mem- 
 oranle Plains of Abraham. With only about seven hundred 
 men, one-third of whose muskets had been rendered useless in 
 their march through the wilderness, success could not be ex- 
 pected. After parading some days on the heights near the 
 town, and sending two flags to summon the inhabitants, he re- 
 tired to Point aux Trembles, twenty miles above Quebec, and 
 there awaited the arrival of Montgomery, who joined him on 
 the first of December. The city was immediately besieged, 
 but the best measures had been taken for its defence. On the 
 morning of the last day of the year, an assault was made on the 
 one side of the city, by Montgomery, who was killed. At the 
 same time, Colonel Arnold, at the head of about three hundred 
 and fifty men, made a desperate attack on the opposite side. 
 Advancing with the utmost intrepidity along the St. Charles, 
 through a narrow path, exposed to an incessant fire of grape- 
 shot and musketry as he approached the first barrier, he re- 
 ceived a musket-ball in the leg, which shattered the bone; and 
 he was carried off to the camp. Though the attack was un- 
 successful, the blockade of Quebec was continued till May 
 1776; when the army, which was in no condition to risk an 
 assault, was removed to a more defensible position. Arnold 
 was compelled to relinquish one post after another, till the 18th 
 of June, when he quitted Canada. After this period, lie exhi- 
 bited great bravery in the command of the American fleet on 
 Lake Champlain. 
 
 In August 1777, he relieved Fort Schuyler, under the com- 
 mand of Colonel Gansevoort, which was invested by Colonel 
 St. Lcger, with an army of from fifteen to eighteen hundred 
 men. In the battle near Stillwater, September the nineteenth, 
 he conducted himself with his usual intrepidity: being engaged 
 incessantly, for four hours. In the action of October the 7th, 
 after the British had been driven into their lines, Arnold pressed 
 forward, and, under a tremendous fire, assaulted their works 
 from right to left* The intrenchments were at length foreedy 
 
352 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 and with a few meu he actually entered the works; but his 
 horse being killed, and he himself badly wounded in the leg, 
 he found it necessary to withdraw, and as it was now almost 
 dark, to desist from the attack. 
 
 Being rendered unfit for active service, in consequence of his 
 wound, after the recovery of Philadelphia, he was appointed to 
 the command of the American garrison. When he entered the 
 city, he made the house of Governor Penn, the best house in 
 the city, his head-quarters. This he furnished in a very costly 
 manner, and lived far beyond his income. He had wasted the 
 plunder, which he had seized at Montreal, in his retreat from 
 Canada; and at Philadelphia, he was determined to make new 
 acquisitions. He laid his hands on every thing in the city, 
 which could be considered as the property of those who were 
 nufrieudly to the cause of his country. He was charged with 
 oppression, extortion, and enormous charges upon the public, in 
 his accounts; and wit.i applying the public money and property 
 to his own private use. Such was his conduct, that he drew upon 
 himself ihe odium of the inhabitants, not only of the city, but 
 of the province in general. He was engaged in trading specu- 
 lations, and had shares in several privateers; but was unsuc- 
 cessful. 
 
 From the judgment of the commissioners, who had been ap- 
 pointed to inspect his accounts, and who had rejected above half 
 the amount of his demands, he appealed to congress; and they 
 appointed a committee of their own body to examine and settle 
 the business. The committee confirmed the report of the com- 
 missioners, and thought they had allowed him more than he had 
 any right to expect or demand. By these disappointments he 
 became irritated, and he gave full scope to his resentment. 
 His invectives against congress were not less violent, than 
 those which he had before thrown out against the commis- 
 sioners. He was, however, soon obliged to abide the judgment 
 of a court-martial, upon the charges exhibited against him by 
 the executive of Pennsylvania; and he was subjected to the mor- 
 tification of receiving a reprim iiid from Washington. His trial 
 commenced in June, i?78, but such were the delays occasioned 
 
i\ \»q 
 
BENEDICT ARNOLD. 353 
 
 fry the movements of the armv, that it was not concluded until 
 the 26th day of January, 1779. — The sentence of a reprimand 
 was approved by congress, and was soon afterward carried into 
 execution. 
 
 Such was the humiliation, to which General Arnold was re- 
 duced, in consequence of yielding to the temptations of pride 
 and vanity, and indulging himself in the pleasures of a sump- 
 tuous table and expensive equipage. 
 
 From this time, probably, his proud spirit revolted from the 
 cau^e of America. He turned his eyes to West Point as ,.n 
 acquisition, which would give value to treason, while its loss 
 would inflict a mortal wound on his former friends. He ad- 
 dressed himself to the delegation of New-York, in which state 
 his reputation was peculiarly high; and a member of congress 
 from this state, recommended him to Washington for the service 
 which he desired. But this request could not be immediately 
 complied with. The same application to the commander-in- 
 chief was made not long after 'vard through General Schu^ ler. 
 Washington observed, that, as there was a prospect of an ac- 
 tive campaign, he should be gratified with the aid of General 
 Arnold in the field, but intimated at the same time, that he 
 should receive the appointment requested if it should be more 
 pleasing to him. 
 
 Arnold, without discovering much solicitude, repaired to camp 
 in the beginning of August, and renewed in person, the solici- 
 tations which had been before indirectly made. He was now 
 offered the command of the left wing of the army, which was 
 advancing against New-York, but he declined it under the pre- 
 text, that in consequence of his wounds, he was unable to per- 
 form the active duties of the field. Without a suspicion of his 
 patriotism, he was invested with the command of We«t Point. 
 Previously to his soliciting this station, he had, in a letter to 
 Colonel Robinson, signified his change of principles and his 
 wish to restore himself to the favor of his prince, by some sig- 
 nal proof of his repentance. This letter opened to him a cor! 
 respence with Sir Henry Clinton, the object of which was to 
 4.5 
 
354 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 concert the means of putting the important post, which he 
 commanded, into the possession of the British general. 
 
 His plan, it is believed, was to have drawn the greater part of 
 his army without the works, under the pretext of righting mc 
 enemy in the defiles, and to have left unguarded a designated 
 pass, through which the assailants might securely approach and 
 surprise the fortress. His troops he intended to place, so that 
 they would be compelled to surrender, or be cut in pieces. But 
 just as his scheme was ripe for execution, the wise Disposer of 
 events, who so often and so remarkably interposed in favor of 
 the American cause, blasted his designs. 
 
 Major Andre, adjutant-general of the British army, was se- 
 lected as the person, to whom the maturing of Arnold's treason, 
 and the arrangements for its execution should be committed. 
 A correspondence was, for some time, carried on between them 
 under a mercantile disguise, and the feigned names of Gustavus 
 and Anderson; and at length, to facilitate their communications, 
 the Vulture sloop of war moved up the North River and took 
 a station convenient for the purpose, but not so near as to excite 
 suspicion. An interview was agreed on, and in the night of 
 September the 21st, 17S9, he was taken in a boat, which was 
 despatched for the purpose, and carried to the beach without 
 the posts of both armies, under a pass for John Anderson.,, He 
 met General Arnold at the house of a Mr. Smith. While the 
 conference was yet unfinished, daylight approached; and to 
 avoid the danger of discovery, it was proposed, that he should 
 remain concealed till the succeeding night. He is understood 
 to have refused to be carried within the American posts, but the 
 promise made him by Arnold, to respect this objection, was not 
 observed. He was carried within them contrary to his wisles 
 and against his knowledge. He continued with Arnold the 
 succeeding day, and when on the following night, he proposed 
 to return to the Vulture, the boatmen refused to carry him, 
 because she had, during the day, shifted her station, in conse- 
 quence of a gun having been moved to the shore and brought 
 to bear upon her. This embarrassing circumstance reduced 
 

 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 355 
 
 him to the necessity of endeavoring to reach New- York by land. 
 Yielding with reluctance towhe urgent representations of Ar- 
 nold, he laid aside his regimentals, which he had hitherto worn 
 under a surtout, and put on a plain suit of clothes, and receiv? 
 ing a pass from the American general authorizing him, under 
 the feigned name of John Anderson, to proceed on the public 
 service, to the White Plains, or lower if he thought proper, he 
 set out on his return. He had passed all the guards and posts 
 on the road without suspicion, and was proceeding to New- 
 York, in perfect security, when, on the 23d of September, one 
 of three militia-men, who were employed with others in scout- 
 ing parties between the lines of the two armies, springing sud- 
 denly from his covert into the road, seized the reins of his bridle 
 and stopped his horse. Instead of producing his pass, Andre, 
 with a want of self-possession, which can be attributed only to a 
 kind Providence, asked the man hastily, where he belonged ; and 
 being answered, 4 to below,' replied immediately, 'and so do 1.' 
 He then declared himself to be a British officer, on urgent busi- 
 ness, and begged that he might not be detained. The other two 
 militia-men coming up at this moment, he discovered his mis- 
 take; but it was too late to repair it. He offered a purse of 
 gold and a valuable watch, to which he added the most tempt- 
 ing promises of ample reward and permanent provision from 
 the government, if they would permit him to escape, but his 
 offers were rejected without hesitation. 
 
 The militia-men, whose names were Johu Paulding, David 
 Williams, and Isaac Van Wert, proceeded to search him. They 
 found concealed in his boots, exact returns, in Arnold's hand- 
 writing, of the state of the forces, ordnance, and defences at 
 West Point and its dependencies; critical remarks on the works, 
 and an estimate of the men ordinarily employed in them, with 
 other interesting papers. Andre was carried before lieutenant- 
 colonel Jameson, the officer commanding the scouting parties on 
 the lines, and, regardless of himself, and only anxious for the 
 safety of Arnold, he still maintained the character which he 
 had assumed, and requested Jameson to inform his commanding 
 officer that Anderson was taken. An express was accordingly 
 
356 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 despatched, and the traitor, thus becoming acquainted with hit 
 danger, escaped. 
 
 Major Andre, after his detection, was permitted to send a 
 message to Arnold, to give him notice of his danger, and the 
 tranor found opportunity to escape on board the Vulture, on 
 t!.e 25lh of September, 1780, a few hours before the return of 
 Washington, who had been absent on a journey to Hartlord, 
 Connecticut. It is supposed, however, that he would not have 
 escaped, had not an express \o the commander-in-chief, with an 
 accou. t of the capture of Andre, missed him by taking a differ- 
 ent it ad rom ihe one which he travelled."* 
 
 Arnold, on the very day of his escape, wrote the following 
 
 letter to Washington: 
 
 " On board the Vulture, 
 "Sept, 25, 1780. 
 
 "Sir — The heart which is conscious of its own rectitude can- 
 not attempt to palliate a step which the world may censure as 
 wrong; I have ever acted from a principle of love to my coun- 
 try, since the commencement of the present unhappy contest 
 be ween Great Britain and the colonies; the same principle of 
 love to my country actuate? my present conduct, however it 
 may appear inconsistent to the world, who very seldom judge 
 right of any man's actions. 
 
 "I have no favor to ask for myself. I have too often expe- 
 rienced the ingratitude of my country to attempt it; but from 
 the known humanity of your Excellency, I am induced to ask 
 your protection for Mrs. Arnold, from every insult or injury that 
 the mistaken vengeance of my country may expose her to. It 
 ought to fall only on me; she is as good and as innocent as an 
 angel, and is incapable of doing wrong. I beg she may be per- 
 mitted to return to tier friends in Philadelphia, or to come tome,, 
 as she may choose; from your Excellency I have no fears on 
 her account, but she may suffer from the mistaken fury of the 
 country. 
 
 "I have to request that the enclosed letter may be delivered 
 to Mrs. Arnold, and she permitted to write to me. 
 
 * American Biographical Dictionary. 
 
 
BENEDICT ARNOLD. 357 
 
 <* ] have also to ask that my clothes and baggage, which are 
 of little consequence, may be sent to me; if required, their 
 value shall be paid in money. 
 
 " I have the honor to be, &c. 
 
 " B. ARNOLD. 
 •'His Excellency, General Washington. 
 
 "N. B. In justice to the gentlemen of my family, Col. Var- 
 rick,and Major Franks, I think myself in honor bound to declare 
 that they, as well as Joshua Smith, Esq. (who I know are sus- 
 pected) are totally ignorant ol any transactions of mine, which 
 they had reason to believe were injurious to the public." 
 
 Mrs. Arnold was conveyed to her husband at New- York, and 
 his clothes and baggage, for which he had written, were trans- 
 mitted to him. 
 
 u The following is a concise description of the figures exhibited 
 And paraded through the streets of the city of Philadelphia, tzvo or 
 three days after the affair: 
 
 "A stage raised on the body of a cart, on which was an ef- 
 figy of General Arnold sitting; this was dressed in regimentals, 
 had two faces, emblematical of his traitorous conduct, a mask 
 in his left hand, and a letter in his right from Belzebub,' telling 
 him that he had done all the mischief he could do, and now" he 
 must hang himself. 
 
 At the back of the General was a figure of the devil, dressed 
 in black robes, shaking a purse of money at the General's left 
 ear, and in his right hand a pitchfork, ready to drive him into 
 hell, as the reward due for the many crimes which his thirst of 
 gold had made him commit. 
 
 In the front of the stage, and before General Arnold, was 
 placed a large lanthorn of transparent paper, with the conse- 
 quences of his crimes thus delineated, t. e. on one part Genera/ 
 Arnold on his knees before the devil, who is pulling him into 
 the dames — a label from the General's mouth with these worda: 
 4 My dear sir, I have served you faithfully;' to which the devil 
 replies, 'And I'll reward you.' On another side, two figures 
 hanging, inscribed 'The Traitor's Reward,' and wrote under- 
 neath, 'The Adjutant-General of die British Army, and Joe 
 
358 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 Smith; the first hanged as a spy, and the other as a traitor to 
 his country.' And on the front of the lanthorn was wrote the 
 folio ing: 
 
 " Major General Benedict Arnold, late commander of the fort 
 West Point. The crime of this man is high treason. 
 
 He has deserted the important post, West Point, on Hudson's 
 River, committed to his charge by his Excellency the com- 
 mander-in-chief, and is gone oil to the enemy at New-York. 
 
 His design to have. given up this fortress to our enemies has 
 been discovered by the goodness of the Omniscient Creator, 
 who has not only prevented him from carrying it into execution, 
 but has thrown into our hands Andre, the Adjutant-General of 
 their army, who was detected in the infamous character of a spy. 
 The treachery of the ungrateful general is held up to public 
 view for the exposition of infamy; and to proclaim with joyful 
 acclamation, another instance of the interposition of a boun- 
 teous Providence. 
 
 The effigy of this ingrate is therefore hanged, (for want of 
 his body,) as a traitor to his native country, and a betiayer of 
 the laws of honor." 
 
 The procession began about four o'clock, in the following 
 order : 
 
 Several gentlemen mounted on horseback. 
 
 A line of continental officers. 
 
 Sundry gentlemen in a line. 
 
 A guard of the city infantry. 
 
 Just before the cart, drums and fifes playing the 
 
 Rogue's March. 
 Guards on each side. 
 The procession was attended with a numerous concourse of 
 people, who, after expressing their abhorrence of the treason 
 and the traitor, committed him to the flames, and left both the 
 effigy and the original to sink into ashes and oblivion."* 
 
 "During the exertions which were made to rescue Andre 
 from the destruction which threatened him, Arnold had the har- 
 dihood to interpose. He appealed to the humanity of the com- 
 
 *Nills , Revolution. 
 
I 
 
 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 369 
 
 mander-in-chief, and then sought to intimidate him, by stating 
 the situation of many of the principal characters of South Car- 
 olina, who had forfeited their lives, but had hitherto been spared 
 through the clemency of the British general. This clemency, 
 he said, could no longer, in justice, be extended to them, should 
 Major Andre suffer. 
 
 Arnold was made a brigadier-general in the British service; 
 which rank he preserved throughout the war. Yet he must 
 have been held in contempt and detestation by the generous 
 and honorable. It was impossible for men of this description, 
 even when acting with him, to forget that he was a traitor, first 
 the slave of his rage, then purchased with gold, and finally secu- 
 red by the blood of one of the most accomplished officers in 
 the British army. One would suppose that his mind could not 
 have been much at ease; but he had proceeded so far in vice, 
 that perhaps his reflections gave him but little trouble. i l am 
 mistaken,' says Washington, in a private letter, 'if, at this time, 
 Arnold is undergoing the torments of a mental hell. He wants 
 feeling. From some traits of his character, which have lately 
 come to my knowledge, he seems to have been so hacknied in 
 crime, so lost to all sense of honor and shame, that while his 
 faculties still enable him to continue his sordid pursuits, there 
 will be no time for remorse.' 
 
 Arnold found it necessary to make some exertions to secure 
 the attachment of his new friends. With the hope of alluring 
 many of the discontented to his standard, he published an ad- 
 dress to the inhabitants of America, in which he endeavored to 
 justify his conduct. He had encountered the dangers of the 
 field, he said, from apprehension that the rights of his country- 
 were in danger. He had acquiesced in the declaration of in 4 
 dependence, though he thought it precipitate. But the rejec- 
 tion of the overtures, made by Great Britain in 1778, and the 
 French alliance, had opened his eyes to the ambitious views of 
 those, who would sacrifice the happiness of their country to 
 their own aggrandisment, and had made him a confirmed roy- 
 alist. He artfully mingled assertions, that the principal mem- 
 bers of congress held the people in sovereign contetapt. 
 
360 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 This was followed in about a fortnight by a proclamation, ad- 
 dressed ' to the officers and soldiers of the continental army, 
 who have the peal interests of their country at heart, and who 
 are determined to be no longer the tools and dupes of congress 
 or of France.' To induce the American officers and soldiers 
 to* desert the cause which they had embraced, he represented 
 that the corps of -cavalry and infantry, which he was authorized 
 to raise, would be upon the same footing with the other troops 
 in the British service; that he should with pleasure advance 
 those whose valor he had vvitne?sed; and that the private men. 
 who joined him should receive a bounty of three guineas each, 
 besides payment, at the full value, for horses, arms, and accou- 
 trements. His object was the peace, liberty, and safety of 
 America. 'You are promised liberty,' he exclaims, 'but is 
 there an individual in the enjoyment of it saving your oppres- 
 sors? Who among you dare to speak or write what he thinks 
 against the tyranny which has robbed you of your property, 
 imprisons your persons, drags you to the field of battle, and is 
 daily deluging your country with blood? 1 'What,' lie exclaims 
 again, ' is America now but a land of widows, orphans, and beg- 
 gars? As to you, who have been soldiers in the continental 
 army, can you at this day want evidence, that the funds of your 
 country are exhausted, or that the managers have applied ithem 
 to their private uses? In either case you surely can no longer 
 continue in their service with honor'or advantage. Yet you have 
 hitherto been their supporters in that cruelty, which, with equal 
 indifference to yours, as well as to the labor and blood of others, 
 is devouring a country, that from the moment you quit their 
 colors, will be redeemed from their tyranny.' 
 
 These proclamations did not produce the effect designed, and 
 in all the hardships, sufferings, and irritations of tne war, Ar- 
 nold remains the solitary instance of an American officer, who 
 abandoned the side first embraced in the contest, and turned 
 his sword upon his former companions in arms. 
 
 He was soon despatched by Sir Henry Clinton, to make a 
 diversion in Virginia. With about seventeen hundred men 
 he arrived in the Chesapeake, in January, 1781, and being 
 
BENEDICT ARNOLD. 361 
 
 supported by such a naval force as was suited to the nature of 
 the service, he committed extensive ravages on the rivers, and 
 along the unprotected coasts. It is said that, while on this ex* 
 pedition, Arnold inquired of an American captain whom he had 
 taken prisoner, what the Americans would do with him if he 
 should fall into their hands. The captain at first declined giv- 
 ing him an answer, but upon being repeatedly urged to it, he 
 said, ' Why, sir, if I must answer your question, you must ex- 
 cuse my telling you the plain truth: if my countrymen should 
 catch you, I believe they would first cut off that lame leg, which 
 was wounded in the cause of freedom and virtue, and bury it 
 with the honors of war, and afterward hang the remainder of 
 your body in gibbets.' The reader will recollect that the cap- 
 tain alluded to the wound Arnold received in one of his legs at 
 the attack upon Quebec, in 1776." 
 
 The return of General Arnold to New- York from Virginia, 
 did not fix him in a state of inactivity. He was sent on an en- 
 terprise against New-London, with a sufficient land and marine 
 force. — The embarkation having passed over from Long Island 
 shore in the night, the troops were landed in two detachments 
 on each side of the harbor, at ten o'clock in the morning of the 
 6th of September; that on the Groton side being commanded 
 by Lieutenant-Colonel Eyre, and that on New-London side by 
 the general, who met no great trouble. Fort Trumbull and 
 the redoubt, which were intended to cover the harbor and town, 
 not being tenable, were evacuated as he approached, and the 
 few men in them crossed the river to fort Griswold, on Groton 
 Hill. Arnold proceeded to the town without being otherwise 
 opposed than by the scattered fire of small parties that had has- 
 tily collected. Orders were sent by the general to Eyre for 
 attacking Fort Griswold, that so the possession of it might pre- 
 vent the escape of the American shipping. The militia, to the 
 amount of one hundred and fifty-seven, collected for its defence, 
 but so hastily as not to be fully furnished with fire arms and 
 other weapons, As the assailants approached, a firing com- 
 menced, and the flag-staff was soon shot down, from whence 
 the neighboring spectators inferred that the place had surren- 
 
 •1R 
 
362 BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 dered, till the continuance of the firing convinced them to the 
 contrary. The garrison defended themselves with the greatest 
 resolution and bravery; Eyre was wounded near the works, and 
 Major Montgomery was killed immediately after, so that the 
 command devolved on Major Broomfield. The British at one 
 time staggered; but the fort being out of repair, could not he 
 maintained by a handful of men against so superior a number 
 as that which assaulted it. After an action of about forty 
 minutes, the resolution of the royal troops carried the place by 
 the point of the bayonet. The Americans had not more than 
 half a dozen kihed before the enemy entered the fort, when a 
 severe execution took place, though resistance ceased. The 
 British officer inquired, on his entering the fori, who com-, 
 manded? Colonel Ledyard answered — •! did, sir, but you do 
 now;' and presented him his sword. The colonel was imme- 
 diately run through and killed. The slain were seventy-three: 
 the wounded between thirty and forty, and about forty were 
 carried off prisoners. Soon after reducing the fort, the soldiers 
 loaded a wagon with wounded, as said, by order of their offi- 
 cers, and set the wagon off from the top of the hill, which is 
 long and very steep; the wagon went a considerable distance 
 with great force, till it was -uddenly stopped by an apple tree, 
 which gave the faint and bleeding men so terrible a shock that 
 part of them died instantly. About fifteen vessels, with the 
 effects of the inhabitants, retreated up the river, notwithstand- 
 ing the reduction of the fort, and four others remained in the 
 harbor unhurt; a number were burnt by the fire's commuica- 
 ting from the stores when in flames. Sixty dwelling houses 
 and eighty-four stores were burned, including those on both 
 sides of the harbor and in New-London. The burning of the 
 town was intentional and not accidental. The loss that the 
 Americans sustained in this destruction was very great; for 
 there were large quantities of naval stores, of European goods, 
 of East and West India commodities, and of provisions in the 
 several stores. The British had two commissioned officers and 
 forty-six privates killed; eight officers, (some of whom are since 
 dead) with 135 non-commissioned and privates wounded."* 
 
 * Niles 1 Revolution. 
 
BENEDICT ARNOLD. 368 
 
 "From the conclusion of the war till his death, Gen. Art-old 
 resided chiefly in England. He died in Gloucester place, Lon- 
 don, June 14, 1801. His character presents little to be com- 
 mended. — His daring courage may excite admiration; but it 
 was a courage without reflection and without principle. He 
 fought bravely for his country; and he bled in her cause; but 
 his country owed him no returns of gratitude, for his subsequent 
 conduct proved, that he had no honest regard to her interests, 
 but was governed by selfish considerations. His progress from 
 self-indulgence to treason, was easy and rapid. He was vain 
 and luxurious, and to gratify his giddy desires, he must resort 
 to meanness, dishonesty, and extortion. These vices brought 
 with them disgrace; and the contempt into which he fell, awa- 
 kened a spirit of revenge, and left him to the unrestrained in- 
 fluence of his cupidity and passion. Thus from the high fame 
 to which his bravery had elevated him, he descended into in- 
 famy. Thus too, he furnished new evidence of the infatuation 
 of the human mind, in attaching such value to the reputation 
 of a soldier, which. may be obtained while the heart is unsound, 
 and every moral sentiment is entirely depraved."* 
 
 * American Biographical Dictionary. 
 
BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 REVOLUTIONARY NAVAL OFFICERS. 
 
 John paul jones, 
 
 Commodore in the American Navy. 
 
 "The following interesting narrative is translated frorrt a 
 French manuscript, written by himself. While we condemn 
 the author for his egotism, we must make great allowances, on 
 that account, for the splendid success that attended his enter- 
 prises, and estimate his vanity by the reasons he had to be vain. 
 Few even, perhaps, circumstanced as Paul Jones was, would 
 have praised themselves less than he has done in this sketch; 
 which possesses the singular merit of being substantially cor- 
 rect in all its parts, so far as we are informed of the matter."* 
 
 At the commencement of the American war (during the year 
 1775) I was employed to fit out a little squadron, which the 
 congress had placed under Commodore Hopkins, who was ap- 
 pointed to the command of all the armed vessels appertaining 
 to America; and I hoisted, with my own hands, the American 
 flag, on board the Alfred, which was then displayed for the first 
 time. 
 
 I at the same time acquainted Mr. Hewes, a member of con- 
 gress, and my particular friend, with a project for seizing on the 
 Island of St. Helena, by means of our little squadron, which 
 would have infallibly rendered us masters of part of the home- 
 ward-bound East India fleet; and as the congress, at that time, 
 proposed to appropriate two thirds of the prizes to itself, they 
 would have thus been furnished with the means of carrying on 
 
 * Niles' Register. 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 3G5 
 
 the war during several years; but an event of a more pressing 
 nature prevented this scheme from being carried into execution. 
 
 The cruelties and vexations at that time exercised by Dun- 
 more, in Virginia, determined the congress to detach the squad- 
 ron against him; but Mr. Hopkins displayed neither zeal nor 
 talents upon this occasion, and lost so much time that his squad- 
 ron was frozen in the Delaware. 
 
 After a delay of two months, the squadron was at length dis- 
 engaged, and set sail for New-Providence, the principal of the 
 Bahama islands. There we found a large quantity of artiller} r , 
 mortars, and other implements of warfare, of which wc stood 
 greatly in want in America; and I had the good fortune to ren- 
 der myself extremely useful to the Commodore, who was but 
 little acquainted with military operations. It was to me he was 
 indebted for the plan adopted by him when the squadron came 
 in sight of New-Providence, and 1 also undertook to moor the 
 squadron in a proper birth to execute our enterprise. 
 
 On our return from New-Providence we took two armed ves- 
 sels, one of which was loaded with bombs, and fell in, near Rhode 
 Island, with an English man of war, called the Glasgow, carry- 
 ing twenty-four guns; but, notwithstanding our superiority, both 
 in point of force and sailing, the commander-in-chief suffered 
 her to escape, after having lost many men killed and wounded, 
 both on board the Alfred and the Cabot. 
 
 The squadron now entered the port of New-London, in Con- 
 necticut; and Hopkins, on receiving intelligence that the Eng- 
 lish frigates had been driven from Newport, took advantage of 
 the darkness of the nights to repair to Rhode Island. 
 
 A council of war having dismissed the captain of the Provi- 
 dence, one of the ships of the squadron, the Commodore gave 
 me orders in writing to take the command of her, and to escort 
 some troops that were proceeding from Rhode Island to New- 
 York, with a view of serving under General Washington. Af- 
 ter this, I received instructions to escort a convoy of artillery 
 from Rhode Island to New- York, for the defence of which it was 
 destined. On this occasion I had two different engagements with 
 the Cerberus frigate ; the first for the protection of the vessels un- 
 
366 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 der my command, and the second for the preservation of a vessel 
 from St. Domingo, laden with naval stores for the congress. In 
 the course of my service between Boston and New- York, 1 had 
 also many actions with ships of war under the command of Lord 
 Howe; but on these, as on former occasions, 1 was enabled to 
 preserve my convoy, and I at length arrived safe in the Dela- 
 ware, August 1, 1776. 
 
 On the 8th of the same month the president of the congress 
 presented me in person, with the commission of captain in the 
 marine of the United States; ihis was the first granted by con- 
 gress since the declaration of independence, which took place 
 #n the 4th of July of that same year. 
 
 Orders had been given for the construction of thirteen 
 frigates; but, as none of them was yet ready, I proceeded to 
 sea alone, on board the Providence, which was a vessel of but 
 small force, as she carried no more than seventy men, and 
 twelve small cannon. When in the neighborhood of Bermu- 
 das, we fell in with the Solebay, and her convoy, from Charles- 
 ton; she was a thirty-two gun frigate, and formed part of the 
 squadron under Admiral Parker. I was of course desirous to 
 avoid an engagement with such superior force; but, as my offi- 
 cers and men insisted that it was the Jamaica fleet, as it was 
 necessary to command by means of persuasion at this epoch of 
 the war, the result was a serious engagement during six hours, 
 which, toward the close, was carried on within pistol shot. A 
 desperate mancevre was the sole resource left me; I attempted 
 this, it succeeded, and I was fortunate enough to disengage 
 myself. 
 
 A short time after this, I took several prizes, and then sailed 
 towards the coast of Nova Scotia, on purpose to destroy the 
 whale and cod fisheries in that neighborhood. When near Sa- 
 ble Island, we fell in with the Milford frigate, carrying thirty- 
 two guns, with which it was impossible to avoid an engagement. 
 A cannonade accordingly took place, from ten o'clock in the 
 morning until sunset; but the engagement was neither so close 
 nor so hot as that with the Solebay, and I at length escaped by 
 parsing through the flats, and entered a little harbor next day, 
 where I destroyed the fishery and vessels. 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 367 
 
 After this I set sail for lie Madame, where I made two de- 
 scend, at the same time destroying the fisheries, and burning all 
 the vessels I could not carry away with me. Having accom- 
 plished this, I returned to Rhode Island, after an absence of six 
 weeks and five days from the Delaware; during this interval I 
 had taken sixteen prizes, without including those destroyed. 
 
 The commander-in-chief, who had remained all this time in 
 harbor, now adopted a plan proposed by me, and which con- 
 sisted, 
 
 1. In the destruction of the enemy's fisheries at He Royale; 
 and 
 
 2. Of restoring to liberty more than three hundred Ameri- 
 can prisoners detained there in the coal mines. Three vessels 
 were destined for this service, the Alfred, the Hampden, and 
 the Providence; but the Hampden having received considerable 
 damage in consequence of running on a rock, could not accom- 
 pany me. I, however, embarked on board the Alfred, and ta- 
 king the Providence by -way of consort, I set sail, and on the 2d 
 of November, 1776, made a prize of a vessel from Liverpool, 
 and soon after the Mellish, a large armed vessel, having two 
 British naval officers on board, and a captain belonging to the 
 land service, with a company of soldiers. This ship was car- 
 rying ten thousand complete sets of uniform to Canada, for the 
 army posted there under the orders of generals Carleton and 
 Burgoyne. 
 
 The Providence having now left the Alfred during the night 
 without the least pretext whatever, I remained alone, and that 
 too during the stormy season, on the enemy's coast; but notwith- 
 standing this, and that I was also greatly embarrassed with my 
 prisoners, I resolved not to renounce my project. I accordingly 
 effected a descent, destroyed a transport of great value, and 
 and also burned the magazines and buildings destined for the 
 whale and cod fishery. 
 
 In addition to this, I took three transports, and a vessel laden 
 with ling and furs, near He Royale; these prizes were escorted 
 by the Flora frigate, which happened to be at a small distance, 
 hut which was concealed from us by a fog. Having taken a 
 
•368 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 privateer from Liverpool, mounting sixteen guns, in the course 
 of next day, I instantly returned with my prizes, toward the 
 United States; but when in the latitude of Boston, fell in with 
 the Milford frigate, which I unwillingly engaged. Toward 
 night, however, I placed the Alfred between the enemy and my 
 prizes, and having given the necessary instructions to the latter, 
 to make for the nearest port, I changed my course, set up lights, 
 and by this stratagem saved the vessels I had captured, as the 
 frigate continued in chase of me. Next day I myself was for- 
 tunate enough to escape, after a very serious action, which was 
 not terminated until dark, and even then in consequence of a 
 hard gale of wind. 
 
 Having returned to Boston, December 10, 1776, the intelli- 
 gence of the uniforms taken on board the Mcllish, reanimated 
 the courage of the army under Gen. Washington, which at that 
 period happened to be almost destitute of clothing. Let me 
 add also, that this unexpected succour contributed not a little 
 to the success of the affair at Trenton against the Hessians, 
 which took place immediately after my arrival. 
 
 I now paid out of my own purse the wage6 due to the crews 
 of the Alfred and the Providence, and lent the rest of my money 
 to the congress. That assembly transmitted me orders from 
 Philadelphia, on the 5th of February, to undertake a secret 
 expedition of great importance, the design of which was, to lay 
 the Island of St. Christopher, and the north side of Jamaica, 
 under contribution; after which we were to attack Pensacola. 
 The project was first conceived by me, and then communicated 
 to Mr. Morris, afterward minister of finance: But such was 
 the jealousy of Hopkins, the commander-in-chief, that it was 
 never carried into execution. He was, however, soon after sus- 
 pended, and then dismissed from the service. 
 
 The season being now too far advanced for the execution of 
 the scheme in the West Indies, myself and crew received orders 
 to remove on board the Amphytrite, a French vessel destined 
 to sail from Portsmouth, New Hampshire to France, whence we 
 were to pass into Holland and take possession of the Indi- 
 emie, a large frigate, constructing there for the congress; some 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 390 
 
 difficulties however ensued, and 1 was ordered to prepare the 
 Ranger, a vessel mounting eighteen guns. 
 
 Whe.i General Burgoyne and his army were obliged to sur- 
 render at Saratoga, it was I who was the first obliged to carry 
 this interesting intelligence to Nantes, whither I arrived on tie 
 2d of December, 1777. In the course of my voyage, I took 
 two prizes, forming a part of a convoy from the Mediterranean, 
 under the protection of the Invincible, a seventy-four gun ship, 
 under the guns of which Oiie of them was taken. 
 
 In the month of January, 17^8, I repaired to Paris, to make 
 the necessary arrangements with the American ministers, rela- 
 tive to the equipment of the Inditnnc; but, as the recent, iniel- 
 ligence relative to the capture of Burgoyne had determined 
 the court of France to recognise the independence of America 
 by means of a treaty of alliance, and as the English ambassa- 
 dor at the Hague, in consequence of obtaining possession of the 
 papers of an American agent, found that the huliennc was the 
 property of corgress, I acquiesced in the opinion of the Ame- 
 rican ministers; and it was determined to cede the property to 
 his most Christian majesty, this being the most likely method of 
 preserving the property. 
 
 I then returned on board the Ranger, and as I had received 
 information from America, relative to the force and stations of 
 the English fleet in that quarter, I immediately transmitted a 
 letter to Mr. Dearie, one of the American ministers at Paris, 
 communicating a plan of an expedition with a squadron of ten 
 sail of the line, a few frigates, end a small body of land forces, 
 with a view of completely destroying the enemy's naval power 
 acting against the United States. This scheme was not adopted 
 until it was too late, and then it of course became impracti- 
 cable. 
 
 In the mean time I took several American vessels under my 
 convoy, from Nantes, to the bay of Quiberon, where M. La 
 Motte Piquet was lying at anchor, with six sail of the line, a 
 few frigates, and several merchantmen, which he was to take 
 under his protection to the westward of Cape Finisterre. M. 
 de La Fayette was on board this fleet, which was provided 
 47 
 
370 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 with clothing, ammunition, and military stores for America. I 
 reached the bay, February 13, 1778, and sent to demand of the 
 admiral, if he xoould return my salute; and this compliment waS 
 immediately agreed to by that brave officer, although neither 
 he nor I knew at that period, that a treaty of alliance had been 
 signed between France and America seven days before. This 
 was the first salute received by the American flag from any 
 power, and occasioned much dispute in the English parliaments 
 
 I now set sail from the bay of Quiberon to Brest, but did not 
 enter the road ; on the contrary, I anchored at Cammeret, where 
 I was detained by contrary winds until the French ambassador 
 at the court of St. James, had announced the treaty lately 
 concluded between his most Christian majesty and the United 
 States. 
 
 On this, I immediately sailed into Brest water, and saluted 
 the Count D'Orvilliers, who returned the salute, and received 
 me with all the honors due to an admiral, on board his flag-ship 
 La Bretagne. 
 
 In the month of February, 1776, the parliament of England 
 had authorized George III. to treat all the Americans taken at 
 sea, with arms in their hands, as traitors, pirates, and felons: 
 this, more than any other circumstance, rendered me the de- 
 clared enemy of Great Britain. From the very commencement 
 of the war, an exchange of prisoners had taken place between 
 General Washington and the commanders of the enemy's army; 
 notwithstanding the haughty conduct of Great Britain, she was 
 obliged to submit to this arrangement, and consider the Ameri- 
 can soldiers, as prisoners of war. It was, however, an atrocious 
 crime to act against her by sea; and England, on this occasion, 
 perpetrated anew, all the cruelties on America which she had 
 lavished on Scotland in 1745. A ferocious and vindictive peo- 
 ple would have rejoiced to have seen the American sailors cut 
 down from the gibbet while yet alive, their breast opened with 
 a knife, and their yet palpitating hearts thrown into the flames! 
 If they did not dare to attempt this, they, however, shut up a 
 number of citizens of the United States in the English prisons 
 during five whole years, where they suffered all the horrori 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 3Vl 
 
 proceeding from cold, hunger, and every sort of mal-treatment; 
 Some of these unfortunates were sold on the coast of Africa, 
 while others, were transported to the West Indies. The firm*- 
 ness with which these martyrs of liberty supported their hard 
 lot, is wholly unexampled; for they preferred every kind of 
 persecution to serving on board the English navy. 
 
 Indignant at the barbarous treatment experienced by the 
 Americans, I determined to make a grand effort in their behalf 
 with a view of stopping the barbarous proceedings of the 
 English in Europe, as well as on the western continent; in the 
 latter of which they set fire to their houses, destroyed their 
 property, and burned and destroyed whole towns. I accord- 
 ingly determined, by way of retaliation, to effect a descent 
 upon some part of England, with a view of destroying the 
 shipping. It was also my intention to make some person of 
 distinction prisoner, whom I resolved to detain as a hostage for 
 the security of, and in order to exchange with, the American 
 prisoners in England. 
 
 Admiral D'Orvilliers, to whom 1 communicated this project, 
 offered to procure for me a captain's commission in the French 
 marine, that, in case I met with any disaster, I might claim the 
 protection of his most Christian majesty; but however advan- 
 tageous this was, I determined to decline the acceptance; be- 
 cause in the first place, I was not authorized by congress to 
 change my flag; and, in the second, such a conduct might have 
 rendered my attachment to America suspected. 
 
 1 accordingly sailed from Brest, and advanced towards Ireland^ 
 neglecting the capture of a number of vessels within my reach r 
 as I did not wish to diminish the strength of my crew. Near 
 to the entrance into Carrickfergus, 1 however, seized on a 
 fishing-boat, manned with six persons, who proved to be pilots. 
 The Drake, a twenty-gun ship, happened to be then on the road, 
 and even within sight; I imagined it possible to obtain possession 
 of her by surprise during the night. With this view, I immedi- 
 ately gave orders for making the necessary preparations; but the 
 mate, who had drank too much brandy, did not let go the anchor 
 according to orders, waich prevented the Ranger from running 
 
U72 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 fu>(h>{ the Drake, according to my intentions. As I had reason 
 to believe, that- my appearance had not hitherto given any alarm 
 I deemed it prudent to cu( my cable and return into St. George's 
 c i nel. I remained there, buffeted about by the winds, during 
 three davs. until the weather having become more favorable, I 
 de .ermined a second time to attempt a descent; this project, how- 
 ever, greatly alarmed my lieutenants; they were poor, they said, 
 and their object was gain, not honor: they accordingly excited 
 di-obedience among the ship's company, by persuadi g them 
 that thev had a right to determine, whether the measures 
 adopted by me were well concerted or not. 
 
 I happened to be at this period within sight of Whitehaven, 
 in Cumberland, at the mouth of the Solway Frith. This is a 
 considerable harbor, in which there then were about 400 sail, 
 some of them vessels of 250 tons burthen; and I had deter- 
 mined to take advantage of the ebb tide, when the shipping 
 was dry, to destroy them. To effect thi^-, it was necessary to 
 land about midnight, with a party of determined men, and seize 
 on a fort and battery, which defended the port. My two lieu- 
 tenants, being averse to the enterprise, and yet being unwilling 
 to discover their true motives, feigned illness. On this I deter- 
 mined to take the command in person, and with much difficulty 
 prevailed on thirty volunteers to follow me. 
 
 With this handful of men, and two small boats, I quitted the 
 R;« ger, at eleve o'clock at night, and rowe towards the har- 
 bor; but, it being farther off than we imagined, and the tide 
 against us, day broke before we had effected a landing. 
 
 I now sent the smallest of the boats towards the northern 
 side of the harbor to set fire to the vessels, while I myself ad- 
 vanced with the other to the south, to take possession of the 
 fort and battery, the first of which was taken by assault, I my- 
 self being the first to enter it through one of the embrasures. 
 We then nailed up the thirty-six cannon mounted on the batte- 
 ries, and advanced towards the south, with a view of burning 
 all the vessels, when to my infinite astonishment, I beheld the 
 other boat returning, without having done any thing. 
 
 On this I deemed it best to unite my forces, with a view of 
 
 *• 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 373 
 
 effecting, at least, some part of our enterprise. In short we set 
 fire to some of the vessels, and it soon burned with great fierce- 
 ness, and began to communicate; but as it was now eight o'clock 
 in the morning, and the inhabitants began to approach near us 
 in crowds, I could no longer defer my retreat, which was made 
 in good order. On my return on board the Ranger, the wind 
 being favorable, I set sail for the coast of Scotland. It was my 
 intention to take the Earl of Selkirk prisoner, and detain his 
 lordship as a hostage, in conformity to the project already men- 
 tioned. It was with this view about noon of the same day I 
 landed on that nobleman's estate, with two officers and a few 
 men. In the course of my progress, I fell in with some of the* 
 inhabitants, who, taking me for an Englishman, observed, that 
 Lord Selkirk was then in London, but that her ladyship and 
 several other ladies were at the castle. 
 
 On this, I determined to return: but such moderate conduct 
 Was not conformabh to the wishes of my people, who were dis- 
 posed to pillage, burn, and destroy everv thing in imitation of 
 the conduct of the English towards the Americans. Although 
 I was not disposed to copy such horrid proceedings, more espe- 
 cially when a lady was in question, it was vet necessary to recur 
 to such means as should satisfy their cupidity, and at the same 
 time, provide for Lady Selkirk's safety. It immediately ap- 
 peared to me, to be the most proper mode to give orders to the 
 two officers to repair to the castle with the men, who were to 
 remain on the outside under arms, while they themselves entered 
 alone. They were then instructed <o enter, and demand the 
 family plate, in a polite manner, accepting whatever was offered 
 them, and then to return, without making any further inquiries, 
 or attempting to search for more. 
 
 I was punctually obeyed; the plate was delivered: Lady Sel- 
 kirk herself observed to the officers, that she was exceedingly 
 sensible of my moderation; she even intimated a wish to repair 
 to the shore, although a mile distant from her residence, in order 
 to invite me to dinner; but the officers would not allow her la- 
 dyship to take so much trouble. 
 
 Next day, April 4, 1 778, 1 prepared to return to Carrickfergus, 
 
 
374 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 to attack the Drake in open day; but the lieutenants were 
 averse to the project, and the crew of the Ranger became so 
 mutinous, that I ran no small risk of being either killed or 
 thrown into the sea; and but two days before, I was on the 
 point of being abandoned and left ashore at Whitehaven. 
 
 In the mean time, the captain of the Drake sloop of war, 
 having been informed of our descent upon Whitehaven, pre- 
 pared to attack us; and, while every thing was getting ready, 
 he despatched an officer on board his boat, with a spy-glass, in 
 order to reconnoitre the Ranger. On this, I immediately masked 
 my guns, kept my men out of sight, and disguised the vessel in 
 such a manner as to resemble a merchantman; in consequence 
 of this the crew of the boat were deceived and taken. This 
 trifling success produced the effect of enchantment on my sail- 
 ors, who were no longer averse to giving her battle. 
 
 The Drake having fired some cannon to recal her boat, hoisted 
 her anchor, and came out attended by a number of yachts and 
 pleasure-boats, with ladies and gentlemen on board: but when 
 the engagement became serious, they thought proper to with- 
 draw to a respectful distance. 
 
 No sooner did the enemy make his appearance, than / lay to, 
 determined not to engage until she came within pistol shot. 
 The engagement was accordingly sustained with great vivacity 
 on both sides, during an hour and five minutes, when the cap- 
 tain and lieutenant being both mortally wounded, the English 
 flag was lowered, and I took possession of her. I regretted 
 greatly the death of these brave men, and committed them to 
 the ocean with all the honors due to their valor. I, at the same 
 time, dismissed the six fisherman, whom I have before mentioned, 
 whose loss I repaired, and whose services I recompensed out of 
 my own purse. 
 
 The Drake was greatly damaged in her masts and tackling* 
 a»d lost forty men either killed or wounded during the action. 
 I had also taken several other prizes; but, as my complement 
 of men had only amounted to one hundred and twenty-three, 
 I retained no more than two of them, which arrived in safety 
 at Brest, where I myself anchored with the Ranger and Drake. 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 375 
 
 on the 7th of May, after an absence of twenty-eight days, du- 
 ring which I had taken upwards of two hundred prisoners. 
 This expedition was of great disservice to Great Britain, as she 
 was not only obliged to fortify her ports, but also to permit the 
 arming of the Irish volunteers, as Lord Mountmorris demon* 
 strated in a speech in parliament. 
 
 At the time I had been obliged to permit my people to take 
 Lady Selkirk's plate, I determined to redeem it out of my own 
 funds the moment it should be sold, and restore it to the family. 
 Accordingly on my arrival at Brest, I instantly despatched a most 
 pathetic letter to her ladyship, in which I detailed the motives of 
 my expedition, and the cruel necessity I was under, in conse- 
 quence of the conduct of the English in America, to inflict the 
 punishment of retaliation. This was sent open to the post- 
 master-general, that it might be shewn to the king of England 
 and his ministers, and the court of St. James was at length 
 obliged to renounce the sanguinary act of its parliament, and 
 exchange those very Americans whom they called traitors, pi- 
 rates and felons, against the prisoners of war, whom I had taken 
 and carried to France. 
 
 "Ranger, Brest, 8th May, 1778. 
 
 "Madam — It cannot be too much lamented, that in the pro- 
 fession of arms, the officer of finer feeling, and of real sensi- 
 bility, should be under the necessity of winking at any action 
 of persons under his command, which his heart cannot approve; 
 but the reflection is doubly severe, when he finds himself obli- 
 ged, in appearance, to countenance such action by authority. 
 
 This hard case was mine, when, on the 23d of April last, I 
 landed on St. Mary's Isle. Knowing Lord Selkirk's interest 
 with his king, I wished to make him the happy instrument of 
 alleviating the horrors of hopeless captivity, when the brave 
 are overpowered and made prisoners of war. It was perhaps 
 Fortunate for you madam, that he was from home, for it was my 
 intention to have taken him on board the Ranger, and to have 
 detained him, until, through his means, a general and fair ex- 
 change of prisoners, as well in Europe as in America, had been 
 effected. 
 
376 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 " When I was informed, by some mon whom I met at landing, 
 that his lordship was absent, I walked back to my boat, deter- 
 mined to leave the island. By the way, however, some officers 
 who were with me, could not forbear expressing their discon- 
 tent, observing, that in America no delicacy was shown by the 
 English, who took away all sorts of moveable property, setting 
 fire not only to towns, aid to the houses of the rich, without dis- 
 tinction, but not even sparing the wretched hamlets and milk- 
 cows of the poor and helpless, at the approach of an inclement 
 winter. That party had been with me as volunteers the same 
 morningat Whitehaven; some complaisance, therefore, was their 
 due. I had but a moment to think how I might gratify them, 
 and at the same time, do your ladyship the least injun. 1 
 charged the two officers to permit none of the seamen to enter 
 the house, or to hurt any thing about it; to treat you, madam, 
 wi Lh the utmost respect; to accept of the plate which was of- 
 fered; and to come away without making a search, or demand- 
 ing any thing else. I am induced to believe that I was punc- 
 tually obeyed, since I am informed that the plate which they 
 brought away is far short of the quantity which is expressed in 
 the inventory which accompanied it. I have gratified my men, 
 and when the plate is sold I^shall become the purchaser, and 
 will graify my own feelings, by restoring it to you by such con- 
 veyance as you shall please to direct. 
 
 "Had the earl been on board the following evening, he would 
 have -«en the awful pomp and dreadful carnage of a sea en- 
 gagement; both aifording ample subject for the pencil, as well 
 as melancholy reflection for the contemplative mind. Human- 
 ity starts back at such scenes of horror, and cannot but execrate 
 the vile promoters of this detested war: — 
 
 For they, 'twas they, unsheathed the ruthless blade, 
 And Heaven shall ask the havoc it has made. 
 
 * The British ship of war Drake, mounting twenty guns, with 
 more than her full complement of officers and men, besides a 
 number of volunteers, came out from Carrickfergus, in order 
 to attack and take the continental ship of war Ranger, of 
 eighteen guns, and short of her complement of officers and 
 
JOHN PAUL JONE&. 377 
 
 men; the ships met, and the advantage was disputed with great 
 fortitude on each side for an hour and five minutes, when the 
 gallant commander of the Drake fell, and victor}' declared in 
 favor of the Ranger. His amiable lieutenant lay mortally 
 wounded, besides near forty of the inferior officers and crew 
 killed and wounded. A melancholy demonstration of the un- 
 certainty of human prospects. I buried them in a spacious 
 grave, with the honors due to the memory of the brave. 
 
 "Though I have drawn my sword in the present generous 
 struggle for the rights of man, yet I am in arms merely as an 
 American, nor am I in pursuit of riches. My fortune isJiberal 
 enough, having no wife nor famih , and having lived long enough 
 to know that riches cannot ensure happiness. I profess myself a 
 citizen of the world, totally unfettered by the little mean distinc- 
 tions of climate or of country, which diminish the oenevolence 
 of the heart, and set bounds to philanthropy. Before this war 
 began, I had, at an early time of life, withdrawn from the sea- 
 service, in favor of 4 calm contemplation and poetic ease.' I 
 have sacrificed, not only my favorite scheme of life, but the 
 softer affections of the heart, and my prospects of domestic hap- 
 piness, and I am ready to sacrifice my life, also, with cheerful- 
 ness, if that forfeiture would restore peace and good will among 
 mankind. 
 
 " As the feelings of your gentle bosom cannot, in that respect, 
 but be congenial with mine, let me entreat you, madam, to use 
 your soft persuasive arts with your husband, to endeavor to stop 
 this cruel and destructive war, in which Britain never can suc- 
 ceed. Heaven can never countenance the barbarous and un- 
 manly practices of the Britons in America, which savages would 
 blush at, and which, if not discontinued, will soon be retal- 
 iated m Britain by a justly enraged people. Saould you fail 
 in this, (for I am persuaded you will attempt it — and who can 
 resist the power of such an advocate?) your endeavors to effect 
 a general exchange of prisoners will be an act of humanity, 
 which will afford you golden feelings on a death-bed. 
 
 I hope this cruel contest will soon be closed; but should it 
 continue, I wage no war with the fair! I acknowledge their 
 
 48 
 
 » 
 
378 JOHN PAUL JONtfS. 
 
 power, and bend before it with profound submission! Let not, 
 therefore, the amiable Countess of Selkirk regard me as an en- 
 emy; I am ambitious of her esteem and friendship, and would 
 do any thing, consistent with my duty, to merit it. 
 
 "The honor of a line from your hand, in answer to this, will 
 lay me under a very singular obligation; and if I can render 
 you any acceptable service, in France or elsewhere, I hope you 
 see into my character so far as to command me without the least 
 grain of service. I wish to know, exactly, the behaviour of my 
 people, as I am determined to punish them if they have exceeded, 
 their liberty. 
 
 " I have the honor to be, with much esteem and profound re- 
 spect, madam, your most obedient and most humble servant, 
 
 "PAUL JONES. 
 
 " To the Right Hon. the Countess of) 
 Selkirk, St. Mary's Isle, Scotland. } 
 
 During the course of the war, I found it impossible to restore 
 jtbe plate belonging to the Selkirk family; I, however, purchased 
 it at a great price, and at length found means to send it by land 
 from FOrient to Calais, by means of M. de Calonne, who trans- 
 mitted me a very flattering letter on the occasion; in short, I at 
 length received a very flattering letter from the Earl of Selkirk, 
 acknowledging the receipt of it. 
 
 1 had no sooner arrived at Brest, than Admiral the Count 
 D'Orvilliers transmitted an account of my expedition to the 
 minister of the marine, in consequence of which it was intima- 
 ted to Dr. Franklin, that his majesty was desirous that I should 
 repair to Versailles, as he was resolved to employ me on a se* 
 cret expedition, for which purpose he would give me the Indi- 
 cnne, with some other frigates, with troops, &c. for the purpose 
 of effecting a descent. I was instantly informed of this* by the 
 ambassador, who observed to me at the same time, that this must 
 be considered as a profound secret, it being of so important a 
 nature, that it had been deemed proper to withhold a commu- 
 nication of it even to his colleagues. 
 
 M. de Sartine received me with the most distinguished polite- 
 ness, making me, at the same time, the most flattering promises.; 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 379 
 
 and the Prince de Nassau was sent into Holland to give instruc- 
 tions ibr the necessary arrangements for arming and equipping 
 the frigate 'intended for me. But, in a short time after this, 
 hostilities took place between France and England in conse- 
 quence of the action with La Belle, Poule. This not a little 
 embarrassed the Minister of the Marine, and the difficult}' was 
 not diminished by the intelligence brought by the prince, who 
 asserted that the Dutch would not permit the Indienne to be 
 equipped. 
 
 As M. de Sartine had written to the three American minis- 
 ters, and obtained their consent for my remaining in Europe, I 
 offered to serve on board of the grand fleet; I also communi- 
 cated several plans for crippling the power of England, such as 
 that of destroying her trade and settlements on the coast of 
 Africa, and in Hudson's Bay; of annihilating their fisheries in 
 Newfoundland; intercepting their East and West India, and, 
 above all, the Baltic fleet, which was escorted by a single fri- 
 gate, as I learned by certain information from England* The 
 minister adopted the last of these plans; and I accordingly re- 
 paired to Brest, to take the command of one of the frigates of 
 that port, with two others, and a cutter, &c. then at St.Maloes; 
 but I found on my arrival, ihat the admiral had appointed a 
 French officer to the vessel in question; and as there was not a 
 single moment to be lost, the senior officer of the frigate at St. 
 Maloes was despatched against the Baltic fleet, which he missed 
 by not steering sufficiently near to the coast of England to in- 
 tercept it. 
 
 Being greatly disgusted with a series of delays, that ensued 
 during nine months, I at length repaired to Versailles, with an 
 intention of returning to America, if I should not immediately 
 obtain a command: for 1 recollected the saying of Old Richard, 
 * If you wish that your aiFairs should be prosperous, superintend 
 them in person.' &c. This induced me to promise, that if the 
 minister should at length comply with my request, I should call 
 my own ship, 'Old Richard.' 
 
 Accordingly, on obtaining he Duras, until a better vessel 
 could be procured, I called her — — — . She was a very 
 
380 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 small and very old and infirm vessel, that had made four voya- 
 ges to the East Indies. As proper guns could not he procured 
 at L'Oiient, where, the lay, I repaired first to Bor- 
 deaux, and then to Angouleme, where I made a contract for 
 sueh as I wanted. On my return, I found that the Marquis de 
 la Fayette, who had returned from America, was desirous to 
 join me in the expedition, it being intended that he should com- 
 mand a body of land forces, he having obtained the king's com- 
 mand for that purpose. 
 
 While the necessary arrangements were making at court, a 
 naval commissary purchased at Nantes, a merchantman, called 
 La Pallas, of thirty-two eight pounders, and a brig called La 
 Vengeance, of twelve three pounders; but neither of them was 
 calculated for war: to these was added Le Cerf, a very fine cut- 
 ter belonging to the royal navy, carrying eighteen nine pounders; 
 with the Alliance, a new frigate, belonging to the United States: 
 but as the guns had not as yet arrived from Angouleme, The 
 Good Man Richard was armed from an old battery of twelve 
 pounders; and as the expedition was intended against the ene- 
 my's ports, I mounted six old eighteen pounders in the gun room, 
 so that she might in some measure be called a forty gun ship. 
 As it was found impossible to procure a sufficient number of 
 American sailors, 1 determined to supply the deficiency by en- 
 rolling English ones, who happened to be prisoners of war in 
 France; and in addition to these, a certain number of peasants 
 was levied ; so that we may be said to have had as bad a crew 
 as was ever shipped on boavd any vessel. I was given to un 
 derstand, however, that the chosen body of troops, undei the com- 
 mand of the Marquis de la Fayette, would serve as a guarantee 
 for their good conduct; but no sooner was the little squadron 
 ready, than I received a letter from the Marquis, intimating 
 that, the object of the expedition having been divulged at Pa- 
 ris, the king had issued orders to prevent the embarkation of 
 the troops, in consequence of which he had joined his regiment. 
 Thus the project, which was no less than that of putting Liv- 
 erpool, the second town in England, under contribution, failed, 
 in consequence of having been indiscreetly communicated to 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 381 
 
 I ought also to remark, that, according to the first arrange- 
 ment, my little squadron was to have been joined by two fire 
 ships, and five hundred men of Walsh's Irish regiment; but the 
 minister did not keep nis word; for he neither procured forme 
 the fire-ships nor the soldiers; so that it became impossible for 
 me to fulfil the plan I had concerted, although it was still more 
 important than that of seizing on Liverpool. 
 
 I now received orders to escort a fleet of transports and mer- 
 chantmen from L'Orient, destined for different ports between 
 that and Bordeaux; and after that I was to chase away the 
 English cruizers from the Bay of Biscay, and then to return for 
 further orders. 
 
 After executing this commission,^ my representing how ne- 
 cessary it was to make a diversion in favor of the Count D'Or- 
 villiers, then cruizing in the Channel, with sixty-six ships of the 
 line, I received a carte blanche during six weeks, without any 
 other restriction than that of repairing to the Texel, by the 
 first of October. By this time, I received intimation from Eng- 
 land*, that eight East Indiamen were soon expected on the coast 
 of Ireland, near to Limerick. This was an object of great at- 
 tention; and as there were two privateers at Port L'Orient, 
 ready for sea, Le Monsieur, of forty guns, and he Granville, of 
 fourteen, the captains of which offered to place themselves un- 
 der my orders, I accepted the proposition. But the French 
 commissary, who superintended the naval department, acted 
 with great impropriety on this, as well as on many former 
 occasions. 
 
 The little squadron at length set sail from the road of Groays, 
 on the 14th of August, 1779; but we had no sooner proceeded 
 to the north of the mouth of the Channel, than Lr Monsieur and 
 Le Granville abandoned me during the night, and Le Cerf soon 
 after imitated their conduct. I was extremely anxious to cruize 
 for a fortnight in the latitude of Limerick; but the captain of the 
 Alliance, after objecting to this, also left me during the nigat; 
 and as I had now with me only the Pallas and the Vengeance, 
 I was obliged to renounce my original intentions. 
 
 I took two prizes on the coast of Ireland; and, within sight 
 
36« JOHN PAUL JONB& 
 
 of Scotland, came up and seized two privateers, of twenty-two 
 guns eac.i, which, with a brigantine, I sent to Bergen, in Nor- 
 way, according to the orders 1 had received from Dr. Franklin: 
 these prizes, however, were restored to the English by the king 
 cf Denmark. 
 
 When I entered the North Sea, I captured several vessels, 
 and learned by my prisoners, as well as by the newspapers, that 
 the capital of Scotland and the port of Leith were left totally 
 defenceless. I also understood, at the same time, that my infor- 
 mation relative to the eight Indiamen was correct; they having 
 entered Limerick three days after I had been obliged to leave. 
 the neighborhood of that port. 
 
 As there was only a tw^ity gun ship and two cutters in Leith 
 Road, I deemed it practicable to lay those two places under con- 
 tribution. I had indeed no other force to execute this project 
 than the Richard, the Pallas, and the Vengeance; but I well 
 knew, that in order to perform a brilliant action, it is not al- 
 ways necessary to possess great means. I therefore held out 
 the prospect of great booty to the captains under my command; 
 and, as to myself, I was satisfied with the idea of making a di- 
 version in iavor of the Count D'Orvilliers, who was then in the 
 Channel. 
 
 I now distributed red clothes to my men, and put some of 
 them on board the prizes, so as to give them the appearance of 
 transports full of troops. All the necessary arrangements were 
 also taken to carry the enterprise into execution; but, about a 
 quarter of an hour before the descent was to have been made^ 
 a sudden tempest arose, and drove me out of the Forth, or Edin- 
 burgh Frith, and so violent was the storm, that one of my prizes 
 was lost. 
 
 This did not, however, deter me, notwithstanding the small- 
 ness of my forces, from forming different enterprises of a simi- 
 lar nature: but I could not induce the captains of the Pallas 
 and Vengeance to second my views ; I was therefore obliged to 
 content myself by spreading alarm on the coast, and destroying 
 the shipping, which I did as far as Hull. 
 
 On the morning of the twenty-third of September, while I 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 386 
 
 ■was cruizing in the latitude of Flamborough Head, which I had 
 appointed as a place of rendezvous for my little squadron, and 
 where I hoped to be rejoined by the Alliance and Le Cerf ? and 
 also to fall in with the Baltic fleet; this convoy accordingly ap- 
 peared, at a time when I had been abandoned by several of my 
 consorts, had lost two boats, with their crews, who had run away 
 on the coast of Ireland, and when a third, with eigteen men on 
 board, was in chase of a merchantman to the windward, leaving 
 me with a scanty crew, and only a single lieutenant and some 
 inferior officers on board. 
 
 It was about two o'clock in the afternoon that the Baltic fleet 
 appeared in view; I then happened to have the wind of it, and 
 was about two leagues distant from the coast of England. I 
 learned from my prisoners that the convoy was escorted by the 
 Serapis, a new vessel, that could mount fifty-six guns, but then 
 carried only forty-four, on two decks, the lower battery carry- 
 ing eighteen pounders, and the Countess of Scarborough, a new 
 twenty-two gun ship. 
 
 We were no sooner descried, than the armed vessels stood out 
 to sea, while the trade took refuge under the cannon of Scar* 
 borough castle. 
 
 As there was but little wind, I could not come up with the 
 enemy before night. The moon did not rise until eight, and at 
 the close of the day the Serapis and Countess of Scarborough 
 tacked and stood in for the fortress. I was lucky enough to 
 •discover this manoeuvre by means of my night glass, without 
 which I should have remained in ignorance of it. On this I 
 immediately altered my course six points, with a view of cut- 
 ting off the enemy; which was no sooner perceived by the 
 Pallas, than it was supposed my crew had mutinied, which 
 induced her captain to haul his wind and stand out to sea, while 
 the Alliance lay Jo, to windward, at a considerable distance; and 
 as the captain of this vessel had never paid any attention what- 
 ever to the signals of the Richard since her leaving France, I 
 was obliged to run all risks,. and enter into an action with the 
 Richard only, to prevent the enemy's escape. 
 
 I accordingly began the engagement at 7 o'clock at night. 
 
384 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 within pistol shot of the Serapis, and sustained the brunt of it 
 for nearly a whole hour at that distance, exposed, not only to 
 her fire, but also (o that of the Countess of Scarborough, which 
 raked the Richard, by means of the broadsides she fired into her 
 stern. 
 
 It ought to be here remarked, that the Richard, properly 
 speaking, was only a thirty-four gun frigate, carrying only 
 twelve pounders; but six eighteen pounders had been placed 
 in the gun room, in case of being obliged to recur to a cannon- 
 ade in an enemy's harbor. The sea being very calm during the 
 engagement, 1 hoped to be able to derive great advantage from 
 this circumstance ; but instead of this, they burst at the com- 
 mencement of the action, and the officers and men posted at 
 this service, and who were selected as the best of the whole 
 crew, were either killed, wounded, or affrighted to such a de- 
 gree, that none of them were of any service during the rest of 
 the engagement. 
 
 In this unfortunate extremity, having to contend with three 
 times my own strength, the Richard being" in imminent danger 
 of going to the bottom, and her guns being no longer in a con- 
 dition to return, the enemy's fire, I had recourse to a dangerous 
 expedient, to grapple with the Serapis, in order, on the one 
 hand, to render her superiority useless, and, on the other, to 
 cover ourselves from the fire of her consort. This manoeuvre 
 succeeded most admirably, and I fastened the Serapis, with my 
 own hands, to the Richard. On this, the captain of the Coun-. 
 tess of Scarborough, who was a natural son of the Duke of 
 Northumberland, conducted himself like a man of sense, and 
 from that moment ceased to fire upon us, well knowing that he 
 must at the same time damage the Serapis. 
 
 That vessel being to windward at the moment we had grap- 
 pled, instantly dropped her anchor, hoping by this to disengage 
 herself from us; but this did not answer her expectations, and 
 the engagement from that moment consisted of the discharge of 
 great guns, swivels, musquetry, and grenades. The English at 
 first testified a desire to board the Richard, but they no sooner 
 saw the danger than they desisied. The enemy, however, 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 385 
 
 possessed the advantage of their two batteries, besides the guns 
 on the forecastle and quarter-deck, while our cannon was either 
 burst or abandoned, except four pieces on the forecastle, wtiich 
 were also relinquished during some minute*. Mr. Mease, the 
 officer who commanded these guns, had been dangerously 
 wounded on the head, and having, at that period, no greater 
 object to occupy my attention, I myself took his post. A few 
 sailors came to my assistance of their own accord, and served 
 the two guns next to the enemy with surprising courage and 
 address. A short time after this. I received sufficient assistance 
 to be able to remove one of the forecastle guns from the oppo- 
 site side ; but we had not strength sufficient to remove the other, 
 so that we could only bring three guns to bear upon the enemy 
 during the remainder of the action. 
 
 The moon, which, as I have already observed, rose at eight, 
 beheld the two vessels surrounded by flame, in consequence of 
 the explosion of the cannon. It so happened at this period, that 
 the mainmast of the Serapis, which was painted yellow, ap- 
 peared extremely distinct, so as to form an excellent mark; on 
 this I pointed one of my guns at it taking care to ram home the 
 shot. In the mean time the two other pieces were admirably 
 
 served against the and swept its forecastle by means 
 
 of an oblique fire. The tops also seconded us bravely, by mean* 
 of musketry and swivels, and also threw a multitude of grenades 
 so as greatly to annoy the enemy. By these means they were 
 driven from their quarters, notwithstanding their superiority in 
 point of men and artillery. 
 
 The captain of the Serapis, after consulting with his officers, 
 resolved to strike; but an unlucky accident which occurred on 
 board the Richard, prevented this: a bullet having destroyed 
 •one of our pumps, the carpenter was seized with a panic, and 
 told the gunner and another petty officer, that we were sinking. 
 Some one observed at the same time, that both I and the lieu- 
 tenant were killed; in consequence of which, the gunner, con- 
 sidering himself as commanding officer, ran instantly to the 
 quarter-deck, in order to haul down the American colors, which 
 he would have actually hauled down, had not the flag-stalf 
 49 
 
380 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 been carried away at the time the Richard grappled with the 
 Sera pis. 
 
 The captain, on hearing the gunner express his wishes to 
 ■surrender, in consequence of his supposing that we were sink- 
 ing, instantly addressed himself to me, and exclaimed, " Do 
 you ask for quarter? — Do you ask for quarter?" I was so oc- 
 cupied, at this period, in serving the three pieces of cannon on 
 the forecastle, that I remained totally ignorant of what had oc- 
 curred on deck; 1 replied, however, " 1 do not dream of surren- 
 dering, but I am determined to make you strike!" 
 
 The English commander, however, conceived some faint 
 hopes, in consequence of what had been said, that the Richard 
 was actually sinking; but when he perceived that her fire did 
 not diminish, he immediately ordered his men from the fore- 
 castle, where they were too much exposed, and stationed them 
 below, where they kept up such a tremendous discharge against 
 the Richard, that it at once indicated vengeance and despair. 
 
 It has already been observed, that when I commenced the 
 action, the Pallas was at a great distance to windward, while 
 the Alliance lay to in the same position. When the captain of 
 the former perceived that the engagement took place, he spoke 
 to his consort; but they lost a great deal of time, and it was 
 not until now, that they came within gun shot of the Countess 
 of Scarborough, and a kind of running fight took place between 
 the latter and the Pallas. The Alliance followed them, and on 
 passsng us, fired a broadside, which, as we were closely engaged 
 with the enemy, did no more harm to them than to us. 
 
 The battle still continued with uncommon ardor between us 
 and the enemy, whose or burned, and her main- 
 mast cut away, by degrees, by our bullets; while the heavier 
 metal of the Serapis drove in one of the sides of my ship, and 
 met with little or no resistance. In short, our helm was ren- 
 dered useless, and the poop was only supported by an old and 
 shattered piece of timber, which alone prevented it from giving 
 way. 
 
 At length, after a short engagement, the Countess of Scar- 
 borough surrendered to the Pallas; it was then that the captain 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 387 
 
 of the latter asked the commander of the Alliance, "whether 
 he would take charge of the prize, or sail and give succor to 
 the commodore?" On this, the Alliance began to stand back- 
 ward and forward under her topsails, until having got to the 
 windward, she came down, and discharged a second broadside 
 against the fore-part of the Serapis, and the hind-part of the 
 Richard. On this I and several other persons begged for God's 
 sake, that they would cease firing, and send a few men on board 
 of us: but he disobeyed, and fired another broadside as he 
 passed along: after which he kept at a most respectful dis- 
 tance, and took great care not to expose himself during the re- 
 mainder of the action, without receiving a single shot, or having 
 a man wounded during the whole engagement. 
 
 The idea that we were sinking had taken such possession of 
 the armorer's mind, that he aclually opened the scuttles, and 
 made all the prisoners, to the number of a hundred, sally forth, 
 in opposition to my reiterated orders. This event might have 
 proved fatal, had I not taken advantage of their affright to sta- 
 tion them at the pumps, where they displayed surprising zeal, 
 appearing actually to forget their captivity; for there was noth- 
 ing to prevent their going on board the Serapis; or, it was in 
 their power to put an end to the engagement in an instant, b) 
 either killing me, or throwing me into the sea. 
 
 As our three quarter deck guns continued to play without 
 interruption on the enemy, raked her hinder parts, and damaged 
 her mast in such a manner, that it was only supported from fall 
 ing by the yards of our ship, while the tops poured in a con- 
 tinual discharge ; the fire of the English began to deaden in such 
 a manner as to bereave them of all hope of success. 
 
 A circumstance, however, occurred, that contributed not a 
 little to the victory of the Richard: this was the extraordinary 
 intrepidity and presence of mind of a Scotch sailor, posted in 
 the main-top; this brave fellow, of his own accord, seized a 
 lighted match, and a basket of hand-grenades, with which he 
 advanced along the main-yard, until he had arrived exactly 
 above the enemy's deck. As the flames of their parapets and 
 shrouds, added to the light of the moon, enabled him to dislin- 
 
38S JOHN PAIL JONES 
 
 guish objects, the moment he perceived two or three person.' 
 assembled together, he instantly discharged a hand grenade 
 among them; he had even address enough to drop several 
 through their scuttles, and one of them set fire to the cartridge 
 of an eighteen pounder belonging to the lower deck, the dis- 
 charge of which scorched several of the crew. 
 
 On this, the captain of the Serapis came upon the quarter- 
 deck, lowered his flag, and asked for quarter, at the very 
 moment his main-mast had fallen into the sea. He then came 
 on board, with his officers, and presented me with his sword. 
 While this was transacting, eight or ten men belonging to the 
 Richard seized on the Serapis' shallop, which had been at an- 
 chor during the engagement, and made off. 
 
 It was more than eleven o'clock when the battle ended; it 
 had consequently lasted more than four hours. My ship had 
 no more than 322 men, good, bad, and indifferent, on board, at 
 the commencement of the engagement, and the sixty of these, 
 posted in the gun-room when the gun burst, having been of no 
 further service during the action, could not properly be consi- 
 dered as forming part of the crew opposed to the Serapis, which 
 had received a supply of English sailors while in Denmark; and 
 it appeared, indeed, by the muster-roll, that there were upwards 
 of 400 on board of her, when the first gun was fired. Her su- 
 periority was still more considerable in respect to guns, without 
 mentioning her greater weight in metal, which surpassed ours 
 beyond all comparison. Thus, setting aside the damage done by, 
 the Countess of Scarborough, during the fore part of the action, 
 and also by three broadsides from the Alliance, it will be easy 
 to forjn a due judgment of the combat between the Richard and 
 the Serapis, and set a proper value on a victory obtained < .vet 
 a force so greatly superior, after such a long, bloody, and clost 
 engagement. 
 
 Trie Vengeance, a corvette, mounting twelve three pounders, 
 and the boat belonging to the pilot, with my second lieutenant, 
 another officer, and ten men, would have been of singular ser- 
 vice, either in pursuing and capturing the convoy, or by rein- 
 forcing me: but, strange as it may appear, the fact is. that they 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES: i*S9 
 
 remained all this time mere spectators of the action, in which 
 they took no interest, keeping themselves to windward, mid out 
 of all danger; while, on the other hand, the conduct of the Al- 
 liance had, at least, the appearance of proceeding from a prin- 
 ciple worse than ignorance or insubordination. 
 
 It must appear clear, from what has been already said, that 
 if the enemy's ports were not annoyed, the Baltic fleet taken, 
 and the eight Indiamen seized, the blame did not lie with me. 
 
 It is but justice, however, to observe, that some of my officers 
 conducted themselves admirably during the action. The lieu- 
 tenant, Mr. Dale, being left alone at the guns below, and rinding 
 he could not rally his men, came upon deck and superintenaed 
 the working of the pumps, although he had been wounded. 
 Notwithstanding all his efforts, the hold was more than half 
 full of water when the enemy surrendered. 
 
 During the last three hours of the action both the vessels 
 were on fire ; by throwing water on the flames, it was some- 
 times supposed that they were quenched, but they always broke 
 forth anew, and, on (he close of the action we imagined it 
 wholly extinguished. It was very calm during the remainder 
 of the night; but when the wind began to blow, our danger 
 became imminent, the lire having penetrated the timbers, and 
 spread until it had reached within a few inches of the powder- 
 magazine. On this, the ammunition was brought on the deck, 
 to be thrown in the sea, in case of extremity; but we at length 
 succeeded in our endeavors, by cutting away a few planks, and 
 employing our buckets. 
 
 Next morning, the weather was hazy, and not a sail to be- 
 seem We then examined the Richard to see if it were possible 
 to carry her into any port. This proving wholly impracticable, 
 all the boats were employed in carrying the wounded on board 
 the other vessels. This oc Si pied much of our time, and on 
 the succeeding day, notwithstanding all our pumps had been at 
 work, the hold was- entirely full of water, and the vessel soon 
 after sunk. On this occasion 1 could only save the signal flags, 
 and I lost all my property, amounting to more than five thousand 
 Hvres. 
 
390 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 On this I instantly assumed the command of the Serapis, on 
 which we erected jury masts; but the sea was so tempestuous, 
 that it was ten days before we reached the Texel. 
 
 No sooner was my arrival known than forty-two vessels, form- 
 ing different squadrons of frigates, were fitted out from the va- 
 rious ports in Great Britain against me, and two of these were 
 stationed during three months at the mouths of the Texel and 
 the Fly. My situation in Holland influenced not a little the 
 conduct of the belligerent powers, at the same time that it ex- 
 cited the attention of all Europe. The English minister at the 
 Hague addressed different memorials to the states general, in 
 all which he insisted that the Serapis and the Countess of Scar- 
 borough "should be delivered up to the king, his master; 1 ' and 
 he, at the same time, claimed me under the appellation of "the 
 Scotch pirate." 
 
 Instead of listening to these propositions, the states general per- 
 mitted me to land my wounded on the island of the Texel, which 
 was delivered up to me for that purpose; on this the British 
 government became furious, and Holland was reduced to so 
 critical a situation, that the states were under the necessity of 
 insisting that I should either leave the Texel, or produce a com- 
 mission from his most Christian majesty, and hoist the French 
 flag. 
 
 The prince of Orange, who was attached to the English in^ 
 terest, sent the Vice-Admiral Rhynst, who was also English in 
 his heart, to assume the command of the Dutch squadron in the 
 Texel, composed of thirteen two-deckers. This officer drew 
 up his squadron, during six weeks, in such a manner as to menace 
 us; and, in short, did every thing in his power to render my sit- 
 uation both dangerous and disagreeable. 
 
 In the mean time I had an interview with the Duke de la 
 Vanguyon, at Amsterdam, who intimated to me, that it was 
 the intention of the king of France that I should hoist his flag 
 during my stay in the Texel, as he imagined that my prizes 
 would assuredly fall into the enemy's hands if I tried to escape. 
 I however, refused this honor, as I had declared myself an 
 .American officer, and had given a copy of my commi6Sion from 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 391 
 
 Congress to the Dutch admiral. It was contrived, however, at 
 length, that I should go on hoard the frigate Alliance, the cap- 
 tain of which had been sent to Paris, to give an account of his 
 conduct, and where I should still carry my former colors, while 
 the prizes should hoist the French flag. 
 
 At length the wind becoming favorable, on the 27th of Feb- 
 ruary, 1779, the Alliance set sail, after having lost all her an- 
 chors, one only excepted, in consequence of Admiral Rhynst's 
 instructions to the pilot; and it was at least an hundred to one, 
 that we should fall in with the enemy. I, however, had the 
 good fortune to escape, although the Alliance passed the Straits 
 of Dover, within sight of the English squadron in the Downs. 
 After getting clear of the Channel, I soon reached the 1. ti ide 
 of Cape Finisterre, and entered the port of Corunna, JatiU ry 
 16, 1780. 
 
 On my return to France, I found that the French commis- 
 sary had made a private sale of my prizes to the king without 
 consulting me. On this I repaired to Versailles, along with Dr. 
 Franklin, but was received with great coolness by the minister 
 of the marine. On this account I declined afking him to pre- 
 sent me to his majesty. This honor was conferred on me next 
 day by the Prince de Beauveau, captain of the guards. The 
 public received me at the opera, and all the public places where 
 I appeared, with the most lively enthusiasm; this, added to the 
 very favorable reception I received from his majesty, afforded 
 me singular satisfaction: and the minister of the marine from 
 that moment paid me the most marked attention. 
 
 The Count de Maurapas about this time intimated to me, that 
 his majesty had resolved to confer son>e distinguished mark of 
 his bounty and personal esteem on me; this proved to be a 
 sword, mounted with gold, on which was engraven the follow- 
 ing flattering motto: — 
 
 VINDICATI MARIS 
 
 LUDOVICUS XVI. REMUNERATOK 
 
 STRENUO VINDICI. 
 
 The hilt was of gold, and the blade, &c. were emblazoned 
 with his majesty's arms, the attributes of war, and an emble* 
 
Qtt JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 matical representation of the alliance between France and 
 America. The most Christian king, at the same time, trans- 
 mitted a most admirable letter to congress, in which he offered 
 to decorate me with the order of military merit. All this was 
 extremely flattering, as Louis XVI, had never presented a sword 
 to any other officer, and never conferred the cross, except on 
 such officers as were invested with his majesty's commission. 
 
 The minister of the marine, a short time after this, lent mo 
 the Ariel, a king's ship, carrying twenty guns, with which J 
 sailed, October 8th, 1780, for America. Tiie wind was at first 
 favorable; but I was soon after in danger of foundering on the 
 Penmarka — and escaped only by cutting away my main and 
 mizen masts. As soon as the storm abated, we erected jury 
 masts, and returned to refit; in short it was the 18th of De 
 cember before I could proceed for Philadelphia. 
 
 During the voyage, I fell in with an English twenty gun ship, 
 called the Triumph, and partly by stratagem, and partly by 
 hard fighting, forced her to strike her flag; but while we were 
 about to take possession of her, the captain, taking advantage 
 of her superior toiling, made off and escaped. 
 
 On my arrival in America, the congress, on the representa- 
 tion of the Chevalier De la Luzerne, passed a law to enable me 
 to accept the military order of France. The French minister, 
 on this occasion, gave an entertainment, to which all the mem- 
 bers of congress, and the principal inhabitants of Philadelphia, 
 were invited ; after which I was invested, in their presence, with 
 the decorations of the order. 
 
 A* the three ministers plenipotentiary from America had un- 
 fortunately disagreed, it necessarily follows that there would be 
 some contradiction in respect to their reports concerning me. 
 In consequence of this, the congress enjoined the admiralty to 
 inquire into the nature of my connection with the court of 
 France, and the reasons which had induced me to remain in, 
 Europe, and delay the convoy of the military stores appertain- 
 ing to the United States. In consequence of the examination 
 that ensued, and the report that was delivered in, the congress 
 passed an act, dated April 14, 1781, in which I was thanked, in 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 393 
 
 the most flattering manner, 'for the zeal, the prudence, and the 
 intrepidity, with which I had sustained the honoj* of the Ame- 
 rican flag; for my bold and successful enterprises, with a view 
 to redeem from captivity the citizens of America, who had fal- 
 len into the power of the English, and for the eminent services 
 by which I had added lustre to my own character and the arms 
 of America.' A committee of congress was also of opinion, 
 'that I deserved a gold medal in remembrance of my services.' 
 
 On the 21st of June, 1781, 1 was appointed, by an unanimous 
 vote of congress, to the command of the America, a 74 gun 
 ship, then building; and on the birth of the Dauphin, I, at my 
 own expense, celebrated that happy event by royal salutes du- 
 ring the day, and a brilliant illumination in the evening, accom- 
 panied by fire- works. 
 
 An unfortunate accident, soon after this, deprived me of the 
 command of that fine vessel: for the Mugnijique, of 74 guns, 
 belonging to the Marquis de Vandreuil's fleet, happening to be 
 lost at Boston, the congress seized on this occasion to testify its 
 gratitude to his most Christian majesty, by presenting him with 
 the America to replace her. 
 
 In the mean time, it was resolved to place a French frigate, 
 called PIndienne, with two or three armed vessels, under my 
 orders, in order to seize on Bermudas; but, as this was never 
 put into execution, I applied to congress for leave to serve on 
 board the fleet of the Count d'Estaing, then destined for an ex- 
 pedition against Jamaica. 
 
 The Marquis de Vandreuil received me with great distinc- 
 tion on board his own ship, the Triumphant, where I occupied 
 the same cabin as the Baron de Viomenil, who commanded the 
 land forces. When we were within sight of Porlo Rico, intel- 
 ligence was received, that Admirals Pigot and Hood were pre- 
 paring to intercept us; and as Don Solano, with the Spanish 
 fleet, did not meet us at Porto Cabello, according to his promise, 
 many of the officers, becoming disgusted with the enterprise, 
 fell sick, and I myself was in a dangerous state ; but we were 
 relieved from our disagreeable situation, by intelligence fr< m 
 Europe that a general peace had taken place. This circum- 
 50 
 
391 JOHN BARRY. 
 
 stance afforded me great pleasure; as I now learned that Great 
 Britain, after A long and bloody contest, had been forced to re- 
 cognise the sovereignty and independence of the United States 
 of America. 
 
 On ^his, we repaired to St. Domingo, where I received every 
 possible mark of esteem from Mr. De Bellecomb, the governor; 
 after a short stay, I embarked /or Philadelphia, penetrated with 
 gratitude for the various marks of esteem I had received from 
 all the French officers, during the five months I had been on 
 board his majesty's squadron. 
 
 I was unable to re-es!ablish my health, during the rest of 
 the summer, which I spent in Pennsylvania; and 1 did not get 
 well until the autumn, when I recovered by means of the cold 
 bath. 
 
 I then demanded permission to return to Europe, on purpose 
 to recover the priz"-money due to myself, officers, and sailors, 
 which was granted n e by an act of congress, dated at Prince- 
 ton, November 1, 1783. 
 
 On this I embarked at Philadelphia, on board a packet-boat 
 destined for Havre de Grace; but being forced into Plymouth 
 by contrary winds, I took post-horses for London, and then set 
 out for Paris, and was received with great cordiality by the 
 ministry. 
 
 Having at length received from the court of France the 
 amount of the prizes, I returned to America on board a French 
 packet-boat. 
 
 JOHN BARRY, 
 
 Commodore in the American Navy. 
 
 "The father of the commodore was a respectable farmer in 
 the county of Wexford, Ireland, where his son, the subject of 
 this memoir, was born, in the year 1745. After having received 
 the first elements of an English education, to gratify his par- 
 ticular inclination for the sea, his father entered him into the 
 
JOHN BARRY. 395 
 
 merchant service. When about fifteen years of age, he ar- 
 rived in Pennsylvania, and selected it as the country of his fu- 
 ture residence. With the circumstances which induced him 
 to leave his native land, and take up his abode in a foreign 
 country, we are not acquainted. Of this, however, w r e are 
 certain, that they cannot have been, in the least, injurious to 
 his character; as we find that in the capital of the .British pro- 
 vinces, in the northern section of the western hemisphere, he 
 was, for a number of years, in the employment of many of the 
 most respectable merchants, of whose unlimited confidence he 
 ever retained the full possession. Among the many gentlemen 
 in whose service he was, Messrs. Meredith, Welling, and Morris, 
 and Nixon, stand most conspicuous. The ship Black Prince, a 
 very valuable vessel, belonging to Mr. Nixon, engaged in the 
 London trade, was commanded by him, at the commencement 
 of the American Revolution; but was shortly after purchased 
 by Congress, and converted into a vessel of war. 
 
 In reviewing the causes which led to hostilities between Great 
 Britain and her colonies, Barry was satisfied that justice was on 
 the side of the latter. He therefore engaged under the ban- 
 ners of freedom, and resolved to devote his best exertions to 
 the emancipation of the colonies from the thraldom of the mo- 
 ther country. 
 
 Confiding in his patriotism, congress, in February, 1776, a 
 few months prior to the declaration of independence, appointed 
 him commander of the brig Lexington, of sixteen guns, and his 
 was the first continental vessel which sailed from the port of 
 Philadelphia. His cruizes were successful. Congress had 
 caused to be built three large frigates, one of which was called 
 the Effingham, to the command of which he was appointed im- 
 mediately after that memorable aera, which gave to the United 
 States a name among the nations of the world. During the 
 following winter, as his naval employment became nugatory, in 
 consequence of the inclemency of the weather, he, from an 
 aversion to inactivity, became a volunteer aid, in that season of 
 peril, to the intrepid Gen. Cadwallader. 
 
 The city of Philadelphia, and forts on the Delaware, fell into 
 
396 JOHN BARRY. 
 
 the hands of the British, in the following year, 1777; and Com. 
 Barry, with several vessels of war, made good his retreat up 
 the river, as far as Whitehill, where, however, they were after- 
 ward destroyed by the enemy. 
 
 Prior to the destruction of these vessels, he successfully 
 employed those under his command in annoying the enemy, 
 and cutting off the supplies. 
 
 After the destruction of the American squadron, and soon 
 after the capture of Philadelphia, he was appointed to command 
 the Raleigh, of thirty-two guns, which, on a cruize, was run on 
 shore by a British squadron on Fox Island, in Penobscot Bay. 
 
 Subsequent to the above disasters, he commanded a vessel 
 commissioned with letters of marque and reprizal, and engaged 
 in the West India trade for some time. 
 
 When congress concluded to build a 74 gun ship in New- 
 Hampshire, he was ordered to command her. It was, however, 
 afterward determined to make a present of this vessel to his 
 most Christian majesty, when that august body gave him the 
 command of the Alliance frigate. 
 
 The situation of American affairs becoming important, in a 
 foreign point of view, Colonel John Laurens, of South Caro- 
 lina, son of Henry Laurens, then a prisoner in the Tower of 
 London, was ordered to France on a special mission. Commo- 
 dore Barry sailed in the Alliance from Boston for L'Orient, in 
 February, 1781, having the minister extraordinary and suite on 
 board. After landing the ambassador and suite at L'Orient, in 
 "the early part of the same year, the Alliance sailed on a cruize. 
 
 On the 29th of May following, at day-light, Commodore 
 Barry discovered a ship and a brig on his weather-bow, appear- 
 ing afterward to wear the British flag. He consequently pre- 
 pared for immediate action. The British ship proved to be the 
 Atalanta, Captain Edwards, of between twenty and thirty guns, 
 and the brig Treposa, Captain Smith. An action shortly com- 
 menced, and by three P. M. both vessels struck. Barry was 
 wounded early in the engagement; but notwithstanding his suf- 
 ferings, in consequence of this casualty, he still remained on 
 deck, and it was owing to his intrepidity and presence of mind, 
 that the Alliance was the victor. 
 
JOHN BARRY. &)7 
 
 On December 25, 1781, he sailed in the Allhnce for Prance, 
 from Bos*on, having on board the Marquis de La Fayette, and 
 Count de Noailles, who were desirous of going to their native 
 country, on business of the highest importance. He had 
 scarcely arrived at his destined port, (L'Orient,) than he sailed 
 in February, 1782, on a cruize, during which he fell in with an 
 enemy's ship of equal size, and had a severe engagement. The 
 enemy w6uld have been captured, had it not been for two con- 
 sorts, which, however, were kept at a distance during the action, 
 by a French fifty gun ship, which hove in sight. The continen- 
 tal ship Luzerne, of twenty guns, had her guns thrown over- 
 board before the battle began, in order to facilitate her escape, 
 as she had a quantity of specie on board from Havana, for the 
 use of the United States. The captain of the British frigate, 
 was soon after advanced to be vice-admiral of the red, ac- 
 knowledged that he had never received a more severe flagella- 
 tion than on this occasion, although it seemed to have had the 
 appearance of a drawn battle. 
 
 During the time that General Lord Howe was the British 
 commander-in-chief, he attempted to alienate the commodore 
 from the cause which he had so ardently espoused, by an offer 
 of 20,000 guineas, and the command of the best frigate in the 
 British navy; but he rejected the offer with scorn. The return 
 of peace, however, in the year 1783, put an end to all such dis- 
 honorable propositions, and our commodore returned to private 
 life. 
 
 In the treaty of Paris, 1783, there was an article prohibiting 
 the United States from building vessels of war during the term 
 of twelve years. At the expiration of this limitation, however, 
 our government conceived themselves to be on the eve of a war 
 witb Great Britain, in consequence of the celebrated corn order 
 of the privy council of 1793, for the avowed purpose of starving 
 France, and the subsequent aggressions on American commerce. 
 These apprehensions gave birth to a law for creating a navy, to 
 the command of which Commodore Barry was designed. The 
 treaty of 1795, however, prevented the law from being carried 
 into full execution, although Mr. Barry, in consequence of that 
 law, was retained in service. 
 
39$ JOHN BARRY. 
 
 That the United States were under great obligations to 
 France for the aid she lent them, during their struggle for lib- 
 erty a;id independence, is a fact which few will deny; and the 
 extent of these obligations was fully expressed in the treaty be- 
 tween the two countries in 1 773. It was therefore, a matter of 
 surprise to many, who have not, till this day, called in question 
 the integrity of the illustrious man, who then directed the des- 
 tinies of our nation, to find that he had issued a proclamation, 
 enjoining a strict neutrality, as if no compact between the two 
 governments had ever existed. He was, however, unquestion- 
 ably actuated by the purest motive, and must have thought that 
 the steps which he had taken would promote the interest of his 
 country. 
 
 In 1797, it was deemed proper by the American government, 
 from some cause not generally known, or explicitly avowed, to 
 annul the consular convention with France; the pretext for 
 which was French aggression on the American commerce. 
 During the maritime disturbance thus created between the 
 two countries, Mr. Barry was actively engaged in protecting 
 the commerce of his adopted country, and was held in the high- 
 est estimation by his nautical brethren. When this dispute was 
 at last satisfactorily adjusted, a law was passed, during the last 
 year of Mr. Adams' administration, for reducing the navy; in 
 consequence of which, the vessel he commanded was laid up in 
 ordinary, and he once more returned to private life. 
 
 Bold, brave, and enterprising, he was, at the same time, hu- 
 mane and generous. He was a good citizen, and greatly es- 
 teemed by all who had the pleasure of his acquaintance. His 
 person was above the ordinary size, graceful and commanding; 
 his deportment dignified, and his countenance expressive. 
 
 He died in Philadelphia, on the 30th of September, 1803, 
 and a vast concourse of his fellow-citizens testified their respect 
 to his memory, by attending his remains to the silent grave."* 
 
 * Wilson's American Biography. 
 
 
( 399 )• 
 
 NICHOLAS BIDDLE, 
 
 Commodore in the American Navy. 
 
 "Captain Biddle was born in the city of Philadelphia, in the 
 year 1750. Among the brave men who perished in ihe glorious 
 Btruggle for the independence of America, Car.t. Biddle holds 
 a listinguished rank. His services and the high expectations 
 raised by his military genius and gallantry, have left a strong 
 impression of his merit, and a profound regret that his early 
 fate should have disappointed so soon the hopes of his country. 
 
 Very early in life he manifested a partiality for the sea,,and 
 before the age of fourteen tie had made a voyage to Quebec. 
 In the following year, 1765, he sailed from Philadelphia to Ja- 
 maica, and the Bay of Honduras. The vessel left the Bay in 
 the latter end of December, 1765, bound to Antigua, and on the 
 2d day of January, in a heavy gale of wind, she was cast away 
 on a shoal, called the Northern Triangles. After remaining 
 two nights and a day upon the wreck, the crew took to their 
 yawl, the long-boat having been lost, and with great difficulty 
 and hazard, landed on one of the small uninhabited islands, 
 about three leagues distant from the reef upon which they had 
 struck. Here they staid a few days. Some provisions were 
 procured from the wreck, and their boat was refitted. As it 
 was too small to carry them all off, they drew lots to determine 
 who should remain, and young Biddle was among the number. 
 He, and his three companions, suffered extreme hardships for 
 want of provisions and good water; and, although various efforts 
 were made for their relief, it was nearly two months before they 
 succeeded. 
 
 Such a scene of dangers and sufferings in the commencement 
 of his career, would have discouraged a youth of ordinary en- 
 terprise and perseverance. On him it produced no such effect. 
 The coolness and promptitude with which he acted, in the midst 
 of perils that abirm^d the oldest seamen, gave a sure presage of 
 the force of his character, and after he had returned home, he 
 
100 NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 
 
 made several European voyages, in which he acquired a tho- 
 rough knowledge of seamanship. 
 
 In the year 1 770, when a war between- Great Britain and 
 Spain was expected, in consequence of the dispute relative to 
 Falkland's Island, he went to London, in order to enter into the 
 British navy. He took with him letters of recommendation 
 from Thomas Willing, Esq. to his brother-in-law, Captain Ster- 
 ling, on board of whose ship he served for some time as a mid- 
 shipman. The dispute with Spain being accommodated, he 
 intended to leave the navy, but was persuaded by Capta.n 
 Sterling to remain in the service, promising that he would use 
 all bis interest to get him promoted. His ardent mind, how- 
 ever, could not rest satisfied with the inactivity of his situation, 
 which he was impatient to change for one more suited to his 
 disposition. 
 
 In the year 1773, a voyage of discovery was undertaken, at 
 the request of the Royal Society, in order to ascertain how tar 
 navigation was practicable towards the Nortl Pole, to advance 
 the discovery of a north-west passage into the South seas, and 
 to make such astronomical observations as might prove service- 
 able to navigation. 
 
 Tw» vessels, the Race Horse and Carcase, were fitted out 
 for the expedition, the command of which was given to Capt. 
 Phipps, afterward Lord Mulgrave. The peculiar dangers to 
 which such an undertaking was exposed, induced the govern- 
 ment to take extraordinary precautions in fitting out and pre- 
 paring the vessels, and selecting the crews, and a positive order 
 was issued that no boys should be received on board. 
 
 To the bold and enterprising spirit of young Biddle, such art 
 expedition had great attractions. Extremely anxious to join 
 it, he endeavored to procure Captain Sterling's permission for 
 that purpose, but he was unwilling to part with him, and would 
 not consent to let him go. The temptation was, however, irre- 
 sistible. He resolved to go, and laying aside his uniform, he 
 entered on board the Carcase before the mast. When he first 
 went on board, he was observed by a seaman who had known 
 him before and was very much attached to him. The honest 
 
NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 401 
 
 i'eliow, thinking that he must have teen degraded and turned 
 before the mast in disgrace, was greatly affected at seeing him, 
 but he was equally surprised and pleased when he learned the 
 true cause of the young officer's disguise, and he kept his secret 
 as he was requested to do. Impelled by the same spirit, young 
 Horatio, afterward Lord Nelson, had solicited as d obtained per- 
 mission to enter on board the same vessel. These yout 1 fjl ad- 
 venturers are both said to have been appointe ' Cock?wai s, a 
 station always assigned to the most active and trusty seamen. 
 The particulars of this expedition are well known to the public. 
 
 These intrepid navigators penetrated as far as the latitude of 
 eighty-one degrees and thirty-nine minutes, and they were at 
 one time enclosed with mountains of ice, and their vessels ren- 
 dered almost immoveable for five days, at the hazard of instant 
 destruction. Captain Biddle kept a journal of his voyage, 
 which was afterward lost with him. 
 
 The commencement of the revolution gave a new turn to his 
 pursuits, and he repaired, without delay, to the standard of his 
 country. When a rupture between England and America ap- 
 peared inevitable, he returned to Philadelphia, and soon alter 
 his arrival, he was appointed to the command of the Camden 
 galley, fitted for the defence of the Delaware. He found this 
 too inactive a service, and when the fleet was preparing, under 
 Com. Hopkins, for an expedition against New Providence, tie 
 applied for a command in the fleet, and was immediately ap- 
 pointed commander of the Andrew Doria, a brig of 14 guns 
 and 1 30 men. Paul Jones, who was then a lieutenant, and was 
 going on the expedition, was distinguished by Captain Biddle,* 
 and introduced to his friends as an officer of merit. 
 
 Before he sailed from the Capes of Delaware, an incident 
 occurred, which marked his personal intrepidity. Hearing that 
 two deserters from his vessel were at Lewistown in prison, an 
 officer was sent on shore for them, but he returned with infor- 
 mation that the two men, with some others, had armed them- 
 selves, barricaded the door, and swore they would not be taken: 
 that toe militia of the town had been sent for, but were afraid 
 to open the door, the prisoners threatening to shoot the first man 
 51 
 
40& NICHOLAS TIDDLE. 
 
 who entered. Captain Biddle immediately went to tl>e prison 
 accompanied by a midshipman, and calling to one of the deser- 
 ters, whose name was Green, a stout, resolute fellow, ordered 
 him to open the door; he replied that he would not, and if he 
 attempted to enter he would shoot him. He then ordered the 
 door to be forced, and entering singly, with a pistol in each hand, 
 he called to Green, who was prepared to fire, and said, '*Now 
 Green, if you do not tale good aim, you are a dead man." 
 Daunted by his manner, their resolution failed, and the militia 
 coming in secured them. They afterward declared to the officer 
 who furnishes this account, that it was Captain Biddle's look 
 and manner which had awed them into submission, for that they 
 had determined to kill him as soon as he came into the room. 
 
 Writing from the Capes to his brother, the late Judge Biddle, 
 he says,"! know not what may be our fate: be it, however, what 
 it may, you may rest assured, I will never cause a blush on the 
 cheeks of my friends or countrymen." Soon after they jailed, 
 the small pox broke out and raged with great violence in the 
 fleet, which was manned chiefly by New England seamen. 
 The humanity of C.fpt. Biddle, always prompt and active, was 
 employed on this occasion to alleviate the general distress, by all 
 the means in his power. His own crew, which was from 
 Philadelphia, being secure against the distemper, he took on 
 board great numbers of the sick from the other vessels. Every 
 part of his vessel was crowded, the long-boat was fitted for their 
 accommodation, and he gave up his own cot to a young midship- 
 man, on whom he bestowed the greatest attention till his death. 
 
 In the meanwhile, he slept himself upon the lockers, refusing 
 the repeated solicitations of his officers, to accept their births. 
 On their arrival at New Providence, it surrendered without op^ 
 position. The crew of the Andrew Doria, from their crowded 
 situation, became sick, and before she left Providence, there 
 were not men enough, capable of doing duty, to man the 
 boats; Captain Biddle visited them every day, and ordered ev- 
 ery necessary refreshment, but they continued sickly until they 
 arrived at New London. 
 
NICHOLAS BIDFLE. 403 
 
 After refitting at New-London, Capt. Biddle received orders 
 to proceed off the banks of Newfoundland, in order to intercept 
 the transports and store ships bound to Boston. Before he 
 reached the banks, he captured two ships from Scotland, with 
 400 highland troops on board, destined for Boston. At this time 
 the Andrew Doria had not one hundred men. Lieut. Josiah, 
 a brave and excellent officer, was put on board one of the prizes, 
 with all the highland officers, and ordered to make the first port. 
 Unfortunately, about ten days afterward, he was taken by the 
 Cerberus frigate, and, on pretence of his being an Englishman, 
 he was ordered to do duty, and extremely ill used. Captain 
 Biddle, hearing of the ill treatment of lieutenant Josiah, wrote 
 to the admiral at New Yoik, that, however disagreeable it was 
 to him, he would treat a young man of family, believed to be a 
 son of Lord Craston, who was then his prisoner, in the manner 
 they treated lieutenant Josiah. 
 
 He also applied to his own government in behalf of this in- 
 jured officer, and by the proceedings of congress, on the 7th of 
 August, 1776, it appears, "that a letter from Capt. Nicholas 
 Biddle to the marine committee, was laid before congress and 
 read: whereupon, Resolved, That Gen. Washington be direc- 
 ted to propose an exchange of lieutenant Josiah, for a lieutenant 
 of the navy of Great Britain: that the general remonstrate to 
 Lord Howe on the cruel treatment lieutenant Josiah has met 
 with, of which the congress have received undoubted informa- 
 tion." Lieutenant Josiah was exchanged, after an imprison- 
 ment of ten months. After thp capture of the ships with the 
 highlanders, such was Capt. Biddle's activity and success in 
 taking prizes, that when he arrived in the Delaware, he had 
 but five of the crew with which he sailed from New London, 
 the rest having been distributed among the captured vessels, a. id 
 their places supplied by men who had entered from the prizes. 
 He had a great number of prisoners, so that, for some days 
 before he got in, he never left the deck. 
 
 While he was thus indefatigably engaged in weakening the 
 enemy's power, and advancing his country's interest, he was 
 disinterested and generous in all that related to his private ad- 
 
404 NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 
 
 vantage. The brave and worthy opponent, whom the chance 
 of war had thrown in his power, found in him a patron and a 
 friend, who, on more than one occasion, was known to restore 
 to the vanquished the fruits of victory. 
 
 In the latter end of the year 1776, Captain Biddle was ap- 
 pointed to the command of the Randolph, a frigate of 32 guns. 
 With his usual activity, he employed every exertion to get her 
 ready for sea. The difficulty of procuring American seamen 
 at that time obliged him, in order to man his ship, to take a 
 number of British seamen, who were prisoners of war, and who 
 had requested leave to enter. 
 
 The Randolph sailed from Philadelphia, in February, 1777. 
 Soon after she got to sea, her lower masts were discovered to be 
 unsound, and in a heavy gale of wind, all her masts went by the 
 board. While they were bearing away for Charleston, the Eng- 
 lish sailors, with some others of the crew, formed a design to take 
 the ship. When all was ready, they gave three cheers on the 
 gun-deck. By the decided and resolute conduct of Capt. Biddle 
 and his officers, the ringleaders were seized and punished, and 
 the rest submitted without farther resistance. After refitting at 
 Charleston as speedily as possible, he sailed on a cruize, and 
 three days after he left the bar, he fell in with four sail of vessels 
 bound from Jamaica to London. One of them, called the True 
 Briton, mounted twenty guns. The commander of her, who had 
 frequently expressed to his passengers his hopes of falling in with 
 the Randolph, as soon as he perceived her, made all the sail he 
 could from her, but finding he could not escape, he hove to, and 
 kept up a constant fire, until the Randolph had bore down upon 
 him, and was preparing for a broadside, when he hauled down 
 his colors. By her superior sailing, the Randolph was enabled 
 to capture the rest of the vessels, and in one week from the 
 time he sailed from Charleston, Captain Biddle returned there 
 with his prizes, which proved to be very valuable. 
 
 Encouraged by his spirit and success, the state of South Ca- 
 rolina made exertions for fitting out an expedition under his 
 command. His name, and the personal attachment to him. 
 urged forward a crowd of volunteers to serve with him. and in 
 
NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 405 
 
 a short time, the ship General Moultrie, the brigs Fair America 
 and Polly, and the Notre Dame, were prepared for sea. A de- 
 tachment of fifty men from the first regiment of South Carolina 
 continental infantry, was ordered to act as marines on board the 
 Randolph. Such was the attachment which the honorable and 
 amiable deportment of Captain Biddle had impressed during 
 his stay at Charleston, and such the confidence inspired by his 
 professional conduct and valor, that a general emulation per- 
 vaded the corps to have the honor of serving under his com- 
 mand. The tour of duty, after a generous competition among 
 the officers, was decided to Captain Joor, and Lieutenants Grey 
 and Simmons, whose gallant conduct, and that of their brave 
 detachment, did justice to the high character of the regiment. 
 As soon as the Randolph was refitted, and a new main-mast ob- 
 tained in place of one Which had been struck with lightning, she 
 dropt down to Rebellion Roads with her little squadron. Their 
 intention was to attack the Carysfort frigate, the Perseus 24 
 gun ship, the Hinchinbrook of- 16 guns, and a privateer which 
 had been cruizing off the Bar, and had much annoyed the trade. 
 They were detained a considerable time in Rebellion Roads, 
 after they were ready to sail, by contrary winds and want of 
 water on the Bar for the Randolph. As soon as they got over 
 the Bar, they stood to the eastward, in expectation of falling in 
 with the British cruizers. The next day, they retook a dis- 
 masted ship from New-England; as sbe had no cargo on board, 
 they took out her crew, six light guns, and some stores, and set 
 her on fire. Finding that the British ships had left the coast, 
 they proceeded to the West Indies, and cruized to the eastward, 
 and nearly in the latitude of Barbadoes, for some days, during 
 which time they boarded a number of French and Dutch ships 
 and took an English schooner from New- York, bound to Gre- 
 nada, which had mistaken the Randolph for a British frigate 
 and was taken possession of before the mistake was discovered. 
 On the night of the 7th March, 1778, the fatal accident oc- 
 curred, which terminated the life of this excellent officer. For 
 some days previously, he had expected an attack. Captain 
 Blake, a brave officer, who commanded a detachment of the 
 
400" NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 
 
 second South Carolina regiment, serving as marines on hoard 
 the General Moultrie, and to whom we are indebted for several 
 of the ensuing particulars, dined on board the Randolph two 
 days before the engagement. At dinner, Captain" Biddle said, 
 "We have been cruizing here for some time, and have spoken 
 a number of vessels, who will no doubt give information of us, 
 and I should not be surprised if my old ship should be out after 
 us. As to any thing that carries her guns upon one deck, I 
 think myself a match for her." About three P. M. of the 7th 
 of March, a signal was made from the Randolph for a sail to 
 windward, in consequence of which the squadron hauled upon 
 a wind, in order to speak her. It was four o'clock before she 
 could be distinctly seen, when she was discovered to be a ship, 
 though as she neared and came before the wind, she had the ap- 
 pearance of a large sloop with only a square sail set. About 
 seven o'clock, the Randolph being to windward, hove to, the 
 Moultrie being about one hundred and fifty yards astern, and 
 rather to leeward, also hove to. . About eight o'clock, the Brit- 
 ish ship fired a shot just ahead of the Moultrie, and hailed her; 
 the answer was the Polly of New- York; upon which she imme- 
 diately hauled her wind and hailed the Randolph. She was 
 then, for the first time, discovered to be a two-decker. After 
 several questions asked and answered, as she was ranging up 
 along side the Randolph, and had got on her weather-quarter, 
 Lieutenant Barnes, of that ship, called out, " This is the Ran- 
 dolph," and she immediately hoisted her colors and gave the 
 enemy a broadside. Shortly after the action commenced, Cap- 
 tain Biddle received a w r ound in the thigh, and fell, This oc- 
 casioned some confusion, as it was at first thought that he was 
 killed. He soon, however, ordered a chair to be brought, said 
 that he was only slightly wounded, and being carried forward, 
 encouraged the crew. The stern of the enemy's ship being 
 clear of the Randolph, the captain of the Moultrie gave orders 
 to fire, but the enemy having shot ahead, so as to bring the 
 Randolph between them, the last broadside of the Moultrie 
 went into the Randolph, and it was thought by one of the men 
 saved, who was stationed on the quarter-deck near Capt. Biddle,, 
 
NICHOLAS BIDDLE. 407 
 
 that he was wounded by a shot from the Moultrie. The fire 
 from the Randolph was constant and well directed. She fired 
 nearly three broadsides to the enemy's one, and she appeared, 
 while the battle lasted, to be in a continual blaze. In about 
 twenty minutes after the action began, and while the surgeon 
 was examining Capt. Biddle's wound on the quarter-deck, the 
 Randolph blew up. 
 
 The enemy's vessel was the British ship Yarmouth, of sixty- 
 four guns, commanded by Captain Vincent. So closely were 
 thev engaged, that Captain Morgan, of the Fair America, and 
 all his crew, thought that it was the enemy's ship that had 
 blown up. He stood for the Yarmouth, and had a trumpet in 
 his hand to hail and inquire how Captain Biddle was, when he 
 discovered his mistake. Owing to the disabled condition of the 
 Yarmouth, the other vessels escaped. 
 
 The cause of the explosion was never ascertained, but it is 
 remarkable that just before he sailed, after the clerk had copied 
 the signals and orders for the armed vessels that accompanied 
 him, he wrote at the foot of them, "In case of coming to action 
 in the night, be very careful of your magazines." The number 
 of persons on board the Randolph was three hundred and fif- 
 teen, who all perished except four men, who were tossed about 
 for four days on a piece of the wreck before they were disco- 
 vered and taken up. From the information of two of these 
 men, who were afterward in Philadelphia, and of some indivi- 
 duals in the other vessels of the squadron, we have been enabled 
 to state some particulars of this unfortunate event in addition 
 to the accounts given of it by Dr. Ramsay in his History of the 
 American Revolution, and in his history of the Revolution of 
 South Carolina. In the former work, the historian thus con- 
 cludes his account of the action: "Capt. Biddle, who perished 
 on board the Randolph, was universally lamented. He was in 
 the prime of life, and had excited high expectations of future 
 usefulness to his country, as a bold and skilful naval officer." 
 
 Thus prematurely fell, at the age of twenty-seven, as gallant 
 an officer as any country ever boasted of. In the short career 
 tvhich Providence allowed to him, he displayed all those quali- 
 
108 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 ties which constitute a great soldier. Brave to excess, and con- 
 summately skilled in his profession, no danger nor unexpected 
 event could shake his firmness, or disturb his presence of mii.d. 
 An exact and rigid disciplinarian, he tempered his authority 
 with so much humanity and affability, that his orders were al- 
 ways executed with cheerfulness and alacrity. Perhaps no of- 
 ficer ever understood better the art of commanding the affections 
 as well as the respect of those who served under him ; if that 
 can be called an art, which was rather the natural effect of the 
 benevolence and magnanimity of his character."* 
 
 EDWARD PREBLE, 
 
 Commodore in the American Navy. 
 
 " Jedediah Preble held the commission of brigadier-general 
 under the colonial government of Massachusetts Bay. In the 
 struggle for independence, he took a decided stand in opposi- 
 tion to the encroachments of the British crown, and during that 
 contest, was for several years a member of the council and 
 senate of that state. — He died in the year 1783, aged seventy- 
 seven, having been gratified by the disposer of human events 
 to live just long enough to see perfected the emancipation of 
 this country from European thraldom, a blessing partly denied 
 to Moses, who was only permitted to view the promised land at 
 a distance, and then expired. 
 
 This gentleman, in the year 1761, resided in a part of Fal- 
 mouth, called then Casco Bay, now Portland, in the Province of 
 Maine, where his son Edward, the subject of this memoir, was 
 born on the 15th of August in that year. In his infantile ^ears, 
 he discovered a persevering and bold temper. His form was 
 robust, his constitution strong and invigorated by athletic sports. 
 His father placed him at Dummer academy, Newbury, where- 
 he received the rudiments of a Latin and English education, 
 under a Mr. Samuel Moody, a gentleman in high respect for 
 his integrity and literary qualifications. 
 
 * Rogers' American Biographical Dictionary. 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 409 
 
 In contrariety to the wishes and expectations of his father, 
 he, at an early period, manifested a predilection for the sea, and 
 as he persisted in his inclination, his father at last deemed it 
 proper to gratify him. Hence he left school at the dawn of the 
 revolution, and instead of entering a freshman at college, he en- 
 tered a freshman on board a letter of marque, Capt. Frend, and 
 made his voyage in a trip to Europe. At the age of eighteen, 
 he was a midsnipman on board the state ship Protector, of 
 twenty-six guns, Capt. John Foster Williams, in 1779. On her 
 first cruise he had to perform his part in a hard fought action 
 with the English letter of marque, Duff, carrying thirty-six 
 guns, off Newfoundland, when the enemy at last blew up. 
 Scarcely forty of the crew were saved. During his second 
 cruise, the Protector was captured, and her principal officers 
 sent prisoners to England, with the exception of Preble, who 
 was released at New York, through the influence of Colonel 
 William Tyng, his father's intimate friend. * As soon as he had 
 obtained his liberty, he returned home. 
 
 Mr. George Williams, the late first lieutenant of the Protec- 
 tor, having been appointed to command the sloop of war Win- 
 throp, then fitting out at Boston, Mr. Preble entered as first 
 lieutenant, and continued in her until the peace of 1783, ren- 
 dering many essential services ip the line of his duty. His da- 
 ring courage and presence of mind in the midst of danger, will 
 be best illustrated by the following anecdote: 
 
 Captain Little, having the tender of an English armed brig, 
 which lay in the harbor of Penobscot, was advised of certain 
 circumstances, which induced him to attempt her capture by 
 surprise. To accomplish this object he run alongside the 
 brig in the night, and had forty boarders dieted in white 
 frocks, to distinguish them from the enemy. As he advanced, 
 he was taken for the brig's tender, hailed, and directed to run 
 aboard. Little's reply was, that he was coming aboard. 
 
 As Little came alongside the brig, lieutenant Preble and 
 
 fourteen of the party appointed for the purpose, jumped on 
 
 board; but the rapidity of the vessel's passage prevented the 
 
 remainder from following. Capt. Little, finding the precariotu- 
 
 53 
 
410 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 ness of Preble's situation, hailed him, desiring to know, if he 
 would not have more men. His reply, indicative of great pre- 
 sence of mind, was, "No, we have more than we want-, we 
 stand in each others' way." The brig being within pistol shot 
 of the shore, the chief part of the enemy on deck leaped over- 
 board, and swam to land; who were followed by some who 
 made their escape through the cabin windows. The officers 
 were just rising as Preble entered their cabin; he assured them 
 that they were his prisoners, and that any resistance would be 
 vain and fatal to them. The vessel of course was surrendered, 
 as was supposed to a superior force. Notwithstanding a brisk 
 cannonade and firing of musketry from a battery on shore, 
 Preble beat his prize out of the harbor, and arrived at Boston, 
 without injury. The knowledge of this gallant achievement 
 greatly enhanced his reputation as a naval officer. 
 
 From the peace of 1783 to the year 1798, he pursued with 
 unblemished reputation, his professional career in the mercan- 
 tile employment, with the varied success generally attendant on 
 commercial enterprise. About this period, when there was 
 every appearance of immediate hostilities between the United 
 States and France, congress determined to create a navy, and 
 Mr. Preble was one of the fi\e first lieutenants appointed for 
 the naval establishment, which has since shed so much lustre on 
 the Americai: character for nautical skill, daring courage, and 
 chivalrous achievement. 
 
 In the fall and winter of 1798 — 9, he was commander of the 
 brig Pickering, in which he made two cruizes; and in 1799 he 
 was promoted to be captain, and had the command of the Es- 
 sex frigate, of thirty-six guns. With this frigate, in company 
 with the frigate Congress, Captain Sever, he sailed for Batavia f 
 in January, 1800, to convoy the American homeward bound 
 vessels, trading in the Indian seas. The day after leaving port, 
 the two frigates parted in a snow-storm from the shipping under 
 convoy, outwardly bound. The Congress returned dismasted; 
 the Essex proceeded, and afler waiting for Captain Sever some 
 time, at the Cape of Good Hope, he departed for Batavia. 
 Before and aftejr he arrived at that port, he made two cruizes 
 of a fortnight duration each, in the Straits of Sunda. 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 411 
 
 In June, he sailed homeward bound, with fourteen merchant- 
 men, valued at several millions of dollars. From these he se- 
 parated off the Banks off Lagullos, in a severe squall, but most 
 of them rejoined him at St. Helena, from whence he convoyed 
 them out of danger. Off the Isle of France or Mauritius, he 
 gave chase to a French corvette, which escaped in a calm by 
 means of her sweeps. Toward the close of this year, Captain 
 Preble arrived at New- York. Ill health induced him after- 
 ward to resign to Capt. Campbell, the command of the frigate 
 Adams, destined for the Mediterranean. Having somewhat 
 recovered from his indisposition, he was in May, 1 803, appointed 
 to the command of the frigate Constitution, lying at Boston, 
 with orders to prepare her for sea. In June a squadron des- 
 tined to act against Tripoli, was entrusted to his direction. 
 The naval force consisted of seven sail. The Constitution, 
 forty-four guns; Philadelphia, forty-four; Argus, brig, eighteen; 
 Syren, Nautilus, and Vixen, sixteen each; and Enterprise, four- 
 teen. Every thing being ready, he set sail for the object of his 
 destination, on the 13th of August. Having arrived at Gibraltar, 
 where he was apprised of the unfavorable aspect of affairs be- 
 tween the United States and the Emperor of Morocco, Captain 
 Bainbridge detained a Moorish cruizer of twenty-two guns and 
 one hundred men, called the Mirboka, which had sailed from 
 Tangier, on the 7th of the same month. On board of this ves- 
 sel, he found among her papers, an unsigned order authorising 
 her commander to cruize against the Americans. From that 
 circumstance, as well as her having captured the American 
 brig, Celia, Captain Bo wen, which was then in company, Cap- 
 tain Bainbridge deemed the Moorish vessel to be good prize, 
 and restored the Celia to her proper commander. 
 
 The last of May, Capt. Rodgers had detained the Mishouda, 
 a Tripolitan vessel under Morocco colors. She had a passport 
 from the American consul, with a reserve for blockaded ports. 
 Sac was taken attempting to go into Tripoli, while Captain 
 Rodgers, in the John Adams, was known to be blockading. On 
 board her were guns and other contraband articles not in her 
 when she received her passport at Gibraltar; also twenty Tri- 
 
412 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 poline subjects taken in at Algiers. The appearance was that 
 she had been taken under the imperial flag for the purpose oi 
 being restored to our enemy. The emperor denied authorizing 
 the attempt of the Mishouda, and said if she was given up, the 
 captain should be punished. The Governor, Hashash, on learn- 
 ing the capture of the Mirboka, at which time the emperor was 
 absent, declared she acted without authority, and that war was 
 not intended. At the same time, her captain certified that this 
 governor gave him his order?. Hashash was, and continued to 
 be in the confidence of Muley Soliman. 
 
 The next day after his arrival, Commodore Preble wrote to 
 the consul Simpson, at Tangier, desiring him to assure the 
 Moorish court, that the United Slates wished peace with his 
 majesty, if it could be had on proper terms — that he could not 
 suppose the emperor's subjects would dare to make war without 
 his permission; but as their authority was disavowed by the 
 governor, he should punish as a pirate every Moorish cruizer, 
 who should be found to have taken an American. 
 
 Commodore Rodgers, on whom the command of the former 
 squadron under Morris devolved, and who was under orders to 
 return to the United States with the frigates New-York and 
 John Adams, agreed to remain a few days on the station, and 
 to join Commodore Preble at Tangier Bay, to assist ineffecting 
 an adjustment. 
 
 On the 17th, taking into his ship the principal Moorish offi- 
 cers of the two prizes, he appeared with the Constitution and 
 John Adams in Tangier Bay, hoisting the white flag in token 
 of peace, but having the men at their quarters. Mr. Simpson, 
 however, was not permitted to come on board, nor to write ex- 
 cept on an open slip of paper: being confined to his house, with 
 two sentinels at his door. 
 
 Another act of hostility had been done at Mogadore, by an 
 order to detain all American vessels, and the actual seizure of 
 the brig Hannah, of Salem, Joseph M. Williams, master. 
 
 The commodore determined to adopt a high tone and vigor- 
 ous measures. He observes, in his communirntior.s to the 
 government, "that all the Barbary powers, except Algiers. 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 413 
 
 appear to have a disposition to quarrel with us, unless we tamely 
 submit to any propositions they may choose to make. Their 
 demands will increase, and be such as our government ought 
 not to comply with. They send out their cruizers — if they 
 prove successful, it is war, and we must purchase peace, suffer- 
 ing them to keep all they have taken; and W they are unfortu- 
 nate, and we capture their cruizers before the} have taken any 
 thing valuahle, it is not war, although the orders for capturing 
 are found on board; and we'must restore all." This he be- 
 lieved ought not to be suffered. Under these impressions he 
 did not hesitate to use his discretion, although specific instruc- 
 tions on this subject were not given, and to follow his own ideas 
 on what expediency and honor required, taking a firm attitude 
 towards the aggressor. This he would have done and risked 
 the consequences, if he had been backed by no other force 
 than that of his peculiar squadron. The consent of Commo- 
 dore Rodgers to co-operate with the two frigates under his 
 control, left no room for question. Our consul believed the 
 emperor of Morocco had long meditated to make war, as soon 
 as he could do it with a prospect of impunity. It was, there- 
 fore, essential to make him feel, that the system of concession 
 was abandoned. 
 
 Accordingly, the commander gave orders to his squadron to 
 bring in for examination, all vessels belonging to the Emperor 
 and his subjects, despatched three vessels to cruize off Moga- 
 dore, Salle and Zarachi, and one off Tetuan, and entered the 
 bay of Tangier at several times. 
 
 That the Tripolitans might not think they were forgotten, he 
 despatched the Philadelphia and Vixen to lie before Tripoli. 
 
 The consul, Simpson, made representations to the emperor, 
 before and after the arrival of Commodore Preble. The an- 
 swers received were general, but showed that if he had author- 
 ized war, he was now prepared to disavow it. 
 
 On the 5th of October, when his majesty was expected, he 
 anchored with the Nautilus in company, in Tangier Bay — the 
 circular battery at the town, W. 1-2 S. 1 1-2 miles distant. Here 
 he remained, only changing his ground once to be nearer the 
 
414 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 town, until peace was concluded. He was joined in the after- 
 noon of the 6th, by the frigates New-York and John Adams. 
 The ship was kept constantly cleared for action, and the men 
 at quarters night and day. On the 6!h his majesty arrh cd with 
 a great body of troops, horse and foot, estimated at five thou- 
 sand, who encamped on the beach opposite the squadron. 
 
 The commodore was careful to ord;^r the ship dressed, and a 
 salute of 21 guns, which was returned from the fort with an 
 equal number, as was the salute of the other frigates in the 
 morning following. 
 
 A present of bullocks, sheep, and fowls, was ordered for the 
 squadron, as a token of the emperor's good will. 
 
 On the 8th, the emperor, with his court and a large body of 
 troops, visited the batteries on the bay for the purpose of view- 
 ing the United States' squadron, when the Constitution saluted 
 again with twenty-one guns — a compliment with which his 
 majesty was very much gratified. The present arriving at 
 the same time, it was acknowledged by three guns according to 
 the Moorish custom. The following day the consul gave notice 
 that the emperor had given orders to the governor of Moga- 
 dore, for the release of the American brig detained in that 
 place, and that Monday was appointed for giving an audience 
 to the commodore and consul. 
 
 On the day assigned, the 1 1th, the commodore, accompanied 
 by Colonel Lear, Mr. Morris, as secretary, and two midshipmen, 
 landed at Tangier for the proposed audience. He believed 
 there was no danger in landing; but he expressed his desire, 
 that if he should be forcibly detained, the commanding officer on 
 board should not enter into treaty for his release, but open a 
 fire upon the town. They were ushered into the presence of 
 the sovereign through a double file of guards. The commo- 
 dore, at the entrance, was requested, according to Moorish 
 custom, in such cases, to lay aside his side-arms. He said he 
 must comply with the custom of his own country, and retain 
 them, which was allow r ed. On coming into the imperial pre- 
 sence, the emperor expressed much sorrow that any difference 
 bad arisen, for he was at peace with the United States* He 
 
EDWARD PREBLE, 415 
 
 disavowed having given any hostile orders; said he would re- 
 store all American vessels and property detained inconsequence 
 of any acts of his governors, and renew and confirm the treaty 
 made with his father in 1786. The commodore and consul on 
 the part of the United States, promised that the vessels and 
 property of the emperor should be restored, and the orders of 
 capture revoked. The commodore received a formal ratifica- 
 tion of the treaty of 1786, and a letter of friendship and peace 
 to the president, signed by the emperor. Thus by the happy 
 union of prudence and energy, our affairs with this piratical des- 
 pot were placed in a better condition than before the variance. 
 
 The commodore having nothing to fear from Morocco, was 
 at liberty to direct his principal attention to Tripoli. The 
 seas<*r, however, was too far advanced for active and perma- 
 nent operations against the enemy. Yet this officer did not 
 indulge himself in repose, or suffer his forces to be idle. In 
 cruizing, where they necessarily, at this time of the year, en- 
 countered a rough sea and tempestuous weather, in supplying 
 convoy, and in maintaining the blockade of Tripoli, when prac- 
 ticable, the squadron was fully and arduously employed. The 
 Philadelphia and Vixen had been ordered to the coast of Tri- 
 poli. The commodore now formally declared the blockade of 
 that place, and sent notice of the fact to the ministers and con- 
 suls of the United States, to be communicated to the respective 
 neutral powers. He found it expedient to go to Cadiz, in or- 
 der to make up his complement of men, and procure a few sup- 
 plies not to be obtained at that time at Gibraltar. He returned 
 from Cadiz on the 6th of November, and after making a suita- 
 ble disposal of his force, proceeded to Algiers, where he was to 
 leave Colonel Lear, the consul general. On the 22d he sailed 
 from Algiers lor Syracuse; and on his voyage was informed of 
 the disastrous loss of the Philadelphia, Captain William Bain- 
 bridge. The following is a brief account of that melancholy 
 event: 
 
 On the 31st of October, after pursuing a Tnpolme corsair, 
 till she came to seven fathoms water, in beating off she ran on 
 a rock, not laid down in any chart, about four and a half miles 
 
110 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 from (he town. Every exertion to get her off proved ineffec- 
 tual. Meanwhile she was attacked by numerous gun-boats, 
 which she withstood for four hours, whilst the careening of the 
 ship made the guns totally useless. A reinforcement coming off 
 and no possible means of resisting them appearing, the captain 
 submitted to the horrid necessity of striking to his barbarous 
 enemy. In forty-eight hours, the wind blowing in shore, the 
 Tripolitans were able to get off the frigate, and having raised 
 her guns, towed her into the harbor. The commodore appre- 
 hended the worst from this diminution of his force; a war with 
 Tunis, and perhaps with Algiers; at least a protraction of the 
 present war. He was, however, induced to hope, that govern-' 
 ment would repair this loss by another frigate in the spring, 
 and would also furnish him with more small vessels <f& gun- 
 boats. 
 
 On the 14th of December, he sailed with the Enterprise, on 
 a winter cruize, amidst boisterous weather; for many days it 
 blew a gale. On the morning of the 23d, the Enterprise cap- 
 tured a ketch in sight of Tripoli. She was under Turkish 
 colors, and navigated by Turks and Greeks; but had on board 
 two Tripolitan officers of distinction, a son of one of the officers, 
 a number of Tripoline soldiers, and forty or more blacks, men 
 and women, slaves belonging to the Bashaw and his subjects. 
 He at first determined to release the vessel and men claimed by 
 the Turkish captain, and retain the Tripoline, about 60 in num- 
 ber, as prisoners; hoping they would afford an advantage in 
 negotiation, and perhaps be exchanged for some of our coun- 
 trymen. But before this determination was executed, he 
 ascertained that the. captain had been active in taking the 
 Philadelphia. Having received on board this very vessel one 
 hundred Tripolitans, armed with swords and muskets, and sub- 
 stituted the colors of the enemy for his own, he assaulted the 
 frigate, and when she was boarded, plundered the officers. He 
 had, therefore, no hesitation in retaining the vessel. As she 
 was not in a condition to be sent to the United States, be trans- 
 mitted her papers to government, and sometime after had her 
 appraised, and took her into the service as the ketch Intrepid. 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 417 
 
 February the 3d, 1804, Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, with 
 seventy volunteers in the Intrepid, and accompanied by the 
 Syren, sailed for Tripoli, with a view to destroy the frigate 
 Philadelphia. On the 16th, the. service was accomplished in 
 the most gallant manner. Lieutenant Decatur entered the 
 harbor of Tripoli in the night ; and laying his vessel along-side 
 the frigate, boarded and carried her against all opposition. 
 The assailant then set fire to her and left her. She was soon 
 in a complete blaze, and was totally consumed. 
 
 From this time till the bombardment of Tripoli, the commo- 
 dore was occupied in keeping up the blockade of the harbor, 
 and in making preparations for an attack. He took the utmost 
 pains to convey supplies and information to Captain Bainbridge 
 and his officers and men; and after a time, by means of the 
 good offices of Sir Alexander Ball, succeeded. He tried sev- 
 eral times to negotiate for a ransom and treaty ; but the de- 
 mands of the regency were sometimes ridiculously extravagant^ 
 and when lowest, beyond what he thought himself permitted to 
 accede to. The designs of warfare he had entertained were 
 checked by a solicitude for the release of his countrymen; 
 though he may by some persons, perhaps, be thought to have 
 indulged too far his aversion to the payment of a considerable 
 ransom. He found himself able to make their situation as 
 comfortable as the nature of it would admit; and he believed 
 that the infliction of suffering and terror, when the time should 
 eome, upon the enemy, would not produce any long continued 
 aggravation of the evils of their condition, whilst it would es- 
 sentially serve his country. Indeed, after the destruction of the 
 Philadelphia, the Bashaw at first affected to avenge himself by 
 a severer treatment of the captives; but this was not long per- 
 sisted in. 
 
 When the first consul of France, in March, at the instance of 
 Mr. Livingston, directed his commissary at this regency to me- 
 diate for their release, Mr. Beaussier undertook the office, and 
 announced to the commodore, that one hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand dollars, with some usual gratuities, would probably effect 
 the object, and that perhaps a cartel for the exchange of prr- 
 
418 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 soners might be negotiated, which would reduce the sum. The 
 commodore did not think himself authorized to agree to these 
 terms, and neve: would go beyond eighty thousand; not thai 
 the amount was important, except on principle, and as it might 
 affect our relations with the other Barbary powers. From tirst 
 to last, it was a point of honor with the Bashaw, not to give up 
 the American captives for a less sum than had been usually re- 
 ceived from most of the powers of Europe^ in similar cases. 
 But he was glad at last to accept of sixty thousand dollars, sa- 
 tisfied no doubt, that our naval armament would be cceval at leas( 
 with his hostility, if not at all times equally active and formidable ; 
 but especially at that moment apprehensive that his brothers 
 General Eaton, if not disarmed by negotiation would reinstate 
 Hamet in the sovereignty of Tripoli. 
 
 On the 1st of April, the commodore went to display his force 
 at Tunis; where he found a Tripoline polacre dismantled, hav- 
 ing been blockaded for sixteen days by Captain Decatur. The 
 Bey of Tunis had, for some time, been uneasy at his treaty with 
 the United States, and insisted that the commodore should land 
 and satisfy him for some property alleged to be unlawfully seized 
 by the former squadron. The commodore made answer that it 
 was not his business, and that he must put to sea. He found it 
 • necessary to watch Tunis during the whole of his command. 
 In the spring he took another prize, a Tripoline; and upon the 
 presumption of her being condemned, she was estimated, equip- 
 ped, put in commission, and called the Scourge. 
 
 Finding that the expected force did not arrive from the 
 United States, our oiliccrs resolved to endeavor to make some 
 use of the friendship of Naples. Although he was without 
 diplomatic authority, the minister, General Acton, from per- 
 sonal regard and good will (o the service, favored his applica- 
 tion to the king, and the commodore obtained as a friendly loan 
 to the United States, six gun-boats and two bomb vessels, com- 
 pletely fitted for service, also liberty to ship twelve or fifteen 
 Neapolitans to serve under our flag in each boat. 
 
 With this addition to his armament, on the 21st of July, 1m 
 joined the detachment off Tripoli, where his force consisted of 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 419 
 
 The Constitution, 44 guns, the brigs Argus and Syren, 18 guns 
 each, the Scourge — the schooners Vixen and Nautilus, 16 guns 
 each; and the Enterprise, 14 guns. 
 
 Tl e enemy had on his castle and several batteries, one hun- 
 dred and fifteen guns; fifty-live of which were heavy battering 
 brass cannon; the others long eighteen and twelve pounders; 
 nineteen gun-boats, with each a long brass eighteen or twenty- 
 four pounder in the bow, and two howitzers abaft. He had 
 two schooners of eight guns each, a brig of ten, and two gal- 
 leys, having each four guns. In addition to the ordinary Turk- 
 ish garrison, stationed upon the fortifications, and the crews of 
 the boats and armed vessels, computed at about three thousand, • 
 the Bashaw had called in to the defence of the city more than 
 twenty thousand Arabs. 
 
 On the 3d of August, the squadron was, at noon, within two 
 or three miles of their batteries. The commodore observing 
 that several of the enemy's boats had taken a. station without 
 the reef of rocks, which covers the entrance of the harbor, 
 about two miles from its bottom, resolved to take advantage of 
 this circumstance, and made signal for the squadron to come 
 within speaking distance, when he communicated to the several 
 commanders his intention of attacking the shipping and batte- 
 ries. The gun and mortar boats were immediately maimed and 
 prepared to cast off. At half past 1 o'clock, the squadron stood 
 for the batteries — at 2, cast off the gun-boats; at half past 2, sig- 
 nal for the bombs and boats to advance and attack, and in 15 
 minutes after, signal was given for general action. It was com- 
 menced by the bombs throwing shells into the town. In an in. 
 stant, the enemy's line opened a tremendous fire from not less 
 than 200 guns, which was promptly returned by the whole 
 squadron, now within musket shot of the principal batteries. 
 
 At this moment, Captain Decatur, with three gun-boats, at- 
 tacked the enemy's eastern division, consisting of nine. He 
 was soon in the centre of them; and the fire of grape, langrage 
 and musketry, was changed to a deadly personal combat with 
 the bayonet, spear, sabre and tomahawk. It would be impos- 
 sible, in our narrow limits, to enter into a detail of the gallant 
 
420 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 exploits of our countrymen upon this trying occasion. The 
 Turks fought with desperation; Decatur took two of their boat* 
 in which were thirty-three officers and men killed, and twenty- 
 seven made prisoners,of whom nineteen were severely- wounded. 
 
 Lieutenant Trippe boarded one of the large boats, with only 
 a midshipman, Mr. Jonathan Henley, and nine men. His boat 
 falling off before any more could join him, he was left to con- 
 quer or perish, with the fearful odds of eleven to thirty-six. In 
 a few minutes, however, the enemy was subdued; fourteen of 
 them lost their lives, and twenty-two submitted to be prisoners; 
 Lieutenant Trippe received eleven sabre wounds, some of which 
 were deep and dangerous. Mr. Henley at this rencountre dis- 
 played a valor, joined to a coolness, that would have honored a 
 veteran. Lieutenant Bainbridge had his lateen yard shot away, 
 which baffled his utmost exertions to get along-side the enemy's 
 boats; but his active and well directed fire, within musket-shot, 
 was very effective. 
 
 Captain Somcrs was not able to fetch far enough to windward 
 to co-operate with Decatur. But he bore down upon the lee- 
 ward division of the enemy, and with his single boat, within 
 pistol-shot, attacked five full manned boats, defeated and drove 
 them, in a shattered condition, and with the loss of many lives, 
 under shelter of the rocks. 
 
 The two bomb vessels kept their station, although often co- 
 vered with the spray of the sea, occasioned by the enemy's shot. 
 They kept up a constant fire, and threw a great number of shells 
 into the town. Five of the enemy's gun-boats and two galleys, 
 composing their centre division, stationed within the rocks, 
 joined by the boats which had been driven in, and reinforced, 
 twice attempted to row out and surround our gun-boats and 
 prizes. They were as often foiled by the vigilance of the com- 
 modore, who gave signal to the brigs and schooners to cover 
 them, which was promptly attended to by those vessels, all of 
 which were gallantly conducted, and annoyed the enemy ex- 
 ceedingly. The fire of the Constitution had its ample share in 
 this bombardment. It kept the flotilla in constant disorder, and 
 produced no inconsiderable effort en shore. 
 
EDWARD PREBLE, 42A 
 
 At half past four, the wind inclining to the northward, and 
 at the same time the enemy's flotilla having retreated behind 
 coverts, which shielded them from our shot, while our people 
 were necessarily much exhausted by two hours and a half severe 
 exertion, signal was given for the gun-boats and bombs to retire 
 from action; and immediately after for the brigs and schooners 
 to take the gun-boats and their prize? in tow, which was hand- 
 somely executed, the whole covered by a heavy fire from the 
 Constitution. In fifteen minutes the whole squadron was out of 
 the reach of the enemy's shot, and the Commodore hauled oiF 
 to give tow to the bomb-ketches. 
 
 On board the frigate not a man was killed. The other ves- 
 sels and boats suffered in their rigging, and had sundry men 
 wounded, but lost none except Lieutenant Decatur, the brother 
 of the Captain Decatur, so conspicuous in this war. Several 
 circumstances explain this impunity of our squadron. Where 
 the engagement was close, as with the boats, the impetuosity of 
 the attack, as well as our more dexterous use of the weapons 
 of destruction, overpowered and appalled the enemy. The 
 barbarians are unskilful gunners. The shower of grape-shot 
 annoyed and discomposed them, in the application of what lit- 
 tle skill they possessed. 
 
 Very different was the result of this conflict to the enemy. 
 The American fire was not an empty peal, but <t messenger of 
 death in every direction. The three captured boats had one 
 hundred and three men on board, forty-seven of whom were 
 killed, twenty-six wounded, and thirty only remained fit for 
 duty. Three other boats were sunk with their entire crews, 
 and the decks of their vessels in the harbor were swept of num- 
 bers. Many guns of the fort were dismounted, and the town 
 was considerably damaged. 
 
 This attack on Tripoli displayed in an eminent degree, the 
 penetration and energy of the commodore, and his power of 
 infusing his own spirit of heroism into his officers and men. 
 This achievement, as might be expected, made a powerful im- 
 pression on the mind of the enemy. The burning of the Phil- 
 adelphia could not fail to make the Bashaw and his people 
 
122 KDWAKD PREBLE. 
 
 apprehend something serious from the present commander. 
 When the squadron was seen standing in, however, he affected 
 contempt, and, surveying them from his palace, observed, 
 41 They will mark their distance for tacking; they are a sort of 
 Jews, who have no notion of fighting." The palace and ter- 
 races of the houses were covered with spectators, to see the 
 chastisement the Bashaw's boats would give the squadron, if 
 they approached too near. This exultation was very transient ; 
 for the battle was scarcely joihed, when no one was seen on 
 shore, except on the batteries. An intelligent officer of the 
 Philadelphia, then in captivity, observed that the Tuiks asked 
 if those men that fought so were Americans, or infcrnals in 
 Christian shape, sent to destroy the sons of the prophet. 
 
 On the 5th of August, the commodore prevailed on a French 
 privateer, which had left Tripoli that morning, to return with 
 fourteen wounded Tripolines, whose wounds had been carefully 
 dressed, and whom the commodore sent with a letter to the 
 Bashaw's minister. These prisoners, it is said, informed the 
 Prince that the Americans in battle were fiercer than lions; but 
 in the treatment of their captives were even more kind than 
 Musselmen. On the 7th, the privateer returned with a letter 
 from the French consul, signifying that the Bashaw had very 
 much lowered his tone; and would probably treat on reasona- 
 ble terms. But nothing satisfactory being proposed by the 
 enemy, and the terms intimated being higher than the comman- 
 der was authorized to make, he prepared for a second attack. 
 At half past two the assault was made. Within two hours, six 
 of the seven guns were silenced. Forty-eight shells and about 
 iive hundred round shot, twenty-four pounders, were thrown 
 into the town and batteries, when, between five and six P. M. 
 the squadron retired from action. During the engagement, 
 the enemy's gun-boats and galleys manoeuvred to gain a posi- 
 tion to cut off the .retreat of ours; but the larger vessels were* 
 so arranged as to defeat their design. The loss, this day, was 
 twenty-two killed and six wounded, two of them mortally. 
 
 At eight in the evening, the John Adams, Captain Chauncey, 
 joined the squadron. By him the Commodore had tlic lirsf 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 1-3 
 
 r 
 
 official notice that four frigates were on tlicir passage to reinforce 
 his detachment. At the same time, also, he learned that, by 
 the appointment of a senior officer to one of the frigates, he 
 would be superseded in the command. The government were 
 highly satisfied with the commodore, but they had not a suffi- 
 cient number of Captains, junior to Preble, to supply all the 
 frigates sent out; and they did not think the saving of his feel- 
 ings would justify the creation of any others. Had they, how- 
 ever, known or anticipated his brilliant success at this time, they 
 would probably have ventured upon the promotion of one or 
 two of the gallant lieutenants in the Mediterranean, in order to 
 keep the commodore in the chief command. 
 
 As the frigates were to sail four days after the John Adams, 
 further operations were suspended in expectation of their arri- 
 val. No assistance could be received from this frigate, as her 
 guns had been stowed by the kelson, and their carriages put 
 away into the other frigates, to make room for her cargo, she 
 being sent out as a transport. 
 
 On the 9th, Commodore Treble, in the brig Argus, reconnoi- 
 tred the harbor. The next day a flag of truce was seen flying 
 on the castle. The commodore sent a boat on shore, which 
 was not permitted to land, but returned with a letter from the 
 French consul, advising the commodore that the Bashaw would 
 accept five hundred dollars each for the ransom of the prisoners, 
 and terminate the war without any consideration or annuity for 
 peace. 
 
 The amount of the demand was about one hundred and fifty 
 thousand dollars, which the commodore rejected; but for the 
 sake of the captives, and to save the further effusion of blood, 
 offered eighty thousand, and ten thousand for presents. After 
 beginning to treat with the French commissary general, the 
 Bashaw suspended the negotiation, saying he would wait the 
 result of another ajtack. On the night of the 23d, the bomb- 
 vessels, under protection of the gun-boats, were -<cnt in to bom- 
 bard the town. The bombardment commenced at two A. M. 
 and continued till daylight; but, as it was subsequently ascer- 
 tained, without much eiFecr. 
 
434 EDWARD TREULE. 
 
 On the 27th, the weather proving favorable, the commodore 
 stood in for Tripoli, and anchored his ship two miles N. by E. 
 from Fort English-, the light vessels keeping under way. A 
 number of his officers, and many of the seamen being employed 
 in the boats, Captain Chauncey, with several of his officers, and 
 about seventy seamen, volunteered their services on board the 
 Constitution. 
 
 The gun-boats, accompanied by the Syren, Argus, Vixen, 
 Nautilus, Enterprise, and boats of the squadron, anchored at 
 three in the morning, within pistol shot of the enemy's lines, 
 with springs on their cables, and commenced a brisk fire on 
 their shipping, town, batteries, and castle, which was warmly 
 returned. The ship's boats remained with the gun-boats, to 
 assist in boarding the flotilla, in case it should come out, and 
 the brigs and schooners were kept under way to harass the en- 
 emy, or to assist the gun-boats. At daylight, apprehensive that 
 the ammunition in the gun-boats must be nearly exhausted, the 
 commodore weighed anchor, and made signal for the gun-boats 
 to retire from action. When arrived within a sure distance, he 
 opened his battery with round and grape shot, upon thirteen 
 gun-boats and galleys, which were closely engaged with ours, 
 sunk one of them, disabled two, and put the rest to fligbt. He 
 continued running in, until within musket-shot of the batteries, 
 when he hove to, fired three hundred round shot, besides grape 
 and cannister, into the Bashaw's castle, the town, and batteries. 
 He silenced the castle, and two of the batteries, and a little 
 after six, hauled off. The gun-boats fired four hundred round 
 shot, besides grape and cannister, with evident effect. 
 
 The French commissary now renewed the negotiation for 
 peace: but it was broken off, in consequence, as he thought, of 
 one of the squadron approaching the harbor as a cartel; which 
 he said was interpreted by the ignorant and mistrustful Bashaw, 
 as a proof of discouragement on the part of the invader. 
 
 On the Sd of September, the bomb-ketches being repaired, 
 as well as the damages sustained by the other vessels in the ac- 
 tion of the 27th, the squadron was again ready, and disposed for 
 another attack on the town and batteries. Between three and 
 
EDWARD PREBLE. 425 
 
 four o'clock, the action commenced, and soon became general. 
 But the wind veering to the northward, and beginning to blow 
 fresh, at half past four P. M. he gave the signal to retire from 
 action under cover of the Constitution. In this engagement, 
 although the frigate and vessels were much damaged, not a man 
 was lost. The bomb vessel, commanded by Lieutenant Robin- 
 son, had all her shrouds shot away, and was so shattered in the 
 hull as to be kept above water with difficulty. The Argus re- 
 ceived a thirty-two pound shot in her hull, which cut away a 
 bower cable, as it entered, and which so checked its velocity, 
 that it fell upon deck without doing injury. 
 
 The Commodore had, for some time, contemplated sending a 
 lire-ship into the harbor to destroy the flotilla; and, at the same 
 time, throw a quantity of shells into the town. Capt. Somers 
 volunteered in this service, and with the assistance of Lieuten- 
 ants Wadsworth and Israel, fitted out the ketch Intrepid for this 
 expedition. A hundred barrels of gunpowder, and one hun- 
 dred and fifty fixed shells, were placed in the hold, with fuses 
 and combustibles so applied as to fire them without endangering 
 the retreat of the adventurers. On the evening of the 4th of 
 September, Captain Somers chose two fast rowing boats from 
 the squadron to bring off the people, after hav<ing fired the ves- 
 sel. His own boat was manned by four seamen from the Nau- 
 tilus, with Lieut. Wadsworth, and six men from the Constitution. 
 At eight they parted from the squadron and stood into the har- 
 bor, convoyed by the Argus, Vixen, and Nautilus, to within a 
 short distance of the batteries. Having gained the inner har- 
 bor, and got near to the point of destination, she was boarded 
 and carried by two galleys of one hundred men each. At this 
 moment she exploded. The effect was awful. Everv battery 
 was silenced, and not a gun was fired afterward during the night. 
 Captain Somers is said to have declared to a friend, that in case 
 he should be boarded he would not be captured. There is every 
 reason to believe that, on the enemy proving successful, the Cap- 
 tain seized a quick-match, and touched a train which communi- 
 cated instant fire to the mine ; by which he and his companions 
 found, with the enemy, a common death. 
 54 • 
 
420 EDWARD PREBLE. 
 
 Nothing occurred after this, till the two squadrons joined on 
 the 9th of September. Here ended Mr. Preble's command, so 
 honorable to himself, and in both its immediate and distant con- 
 sequences, important to his country. 
 
 All joined in the suffrage to the distinguished merits of the 
 Commodore. His Holiness the Pope is said to have remarked, 
 that he had done more towards humbling the anti-Christian bar- 
 barians on that coast, than all the Christian states had ever done. 
 Sir Alexander Ball, in a letter of September 20th, said, ''I beg 
 to repeat my congratulation on the service you have rendered 
 your country, and the hair-breadth escapes you have had in set- 
 ting a distinguished example. Their bravery and enterprise 
 are worthy a great and rising nation. If I were to offer my 
 opinion, it would be that you have done well not to purchase a 
 peace with the enemy. A few brave men have, indeed, been 
 sacrificed, but they could not have fallen in a better cause; and 
 I even conceive it advisable to risk more lives, rather than sub- 
 mit to terms, which might encourage the Barbary states to add 
 fresh demands and insults." 
 
 After the squadron joined, the Commodore obtained leave to 
 return home, where he was received and treated every where 
 with distinguish^ attention. 
 
 In the latter part of the year 1 806, the health of Mr. Preble 
 began to decline. Finding that the inveteracy of his malady 
 bid defiance to medical skill, he resolved on a water excursion 
 as a last experiment; but it resulted in no beneficial effect. He 
 breathed his last on Tuesday, the 25th of August, 1807, in the 
 46th year of his age. On the day of his funeral, business was 
 suspended, the colors were displayed at half-mast from the ship- 
 ping in the harbor, and he was interred with military honors, 
 and the ceremonies of religion and masonry."* 
 
 * Rogers' American Biography. 
 

 (427) 
 
 THOMAS TRUXTUN, 
 
 Commodore in the American Navy. 
 
 " The father of Captain Truxtun was an eminent counsellor 
 of the bar of . the then colony of New- York, and resided on 
 Long or Nassau Island, where the Commodore was born on the 
 1 7lh of February, 1 755. Having lost his father at an early age, 
 he was placed under the care of John Troup, Esq. of Jamaica, 
 Long-Island, a gentleman well known in the annals of the war 
 bet'veen France and England, preceding the American revolu- 
 tion. The sea was his favorite element. At twelve years of 
 age, he first embarked in his naval career, under a Capt. Jo- 
 seph Holmes, in the ship Pitt, bound for Bristol, England. The 
 next year, he sailed under a Captain Chambers, in the London 
 trade. While yet in his novitiate he was impressed on board 
 of an English ship of war of sixty-four guns, during the dis- 
 pute with Spain about the Falkland Islands, from which ship 
 he was afterward released, through the influence of some friends 
 in power. The commander of his Britannic Majesty's ship 
 Prudent, from which he was discharged, used every persuasion 
 to induce him to remain in the service of the crown, with the 
 strongest assurances, that every exertion should be used for his 
 speedy promotion, but without effect, as he immediately re- 
 turned to the ship and service from which he had been im- 
 pressed. 
 
 In the beginning of the revolutionary struggle he forthwith 
 embarked in the cause of the colonies, against the unjust op- 
 pression of Great Britain, and early in 1775 had the command 
 of an armed vessel, with which he cruized against the enemy 
 with great success. In these cruizes, the United States were 
 much benefitted by the .quantities of powder which were found 
 on board his prizes, of which articles they were greatly in want. 
 Toward the close of the same year, when on a voyage to St. 
 Eustatia, a Dutch island in the West Indies, in a letter of 
 marque, of which he was half owner, he was captured off the 
 
426 THOMAS TRUXTUN. 
 
 Island of St. Christopher's, his vessel condemned, and himself 1 
 released under the provisions of the general restraining act of 
 the British Parliament. From St. Christopher's he went to 
 St. Eustatia, and thence to Philadelphia. His next cruize 
 was in the capacity of first-lieutenant of the private armed 
 ship Congress, which was just equipping for sea. During the 
 early part of the winter of 1776$ this vessel, in company with 
 another private armed vessel, called the Chance, fitted out at 
 the same time, made several prizes off the Havana, which were 
 very valuable home-bound Jamaica ships, going through the 
 Gulf of Florida. He, as a prize-master, brought one of them 
 safe into the port of Bedford, Massachusetts. In June of the 
 same year, while the harbor of New-York was blockaded by 
 the British fleet, previous to its evacuation by the Americans, 
 he made his way to sea, through the Long-Island Sound, in a 
 vessel called the Independence, fitted out by himself and Isaac 
 Sears, Esq. and placed under his command. Off the Azores 
 or Western Isles, he made several prizes of which three were 
 large and valuable ships, forming a part of the Windward Is- 
 land fleet, under convoy. One of these prizes, carried more 
 guns and men than his vessel. The proud Englishmen, not- 
 withstanding their vaunted natural prowess, were obliged to 
 strike their colors to an inferior force. Truxtun next directed 
 his course to the British Channel, in the ship Mars, of twenty 
 guns, where he made a number of prizes, several of which he 
 sent into Quiberon Bay. The French court, from a desire to 
 lessen the strength of a rival power, had for some time lent a 
 secret aid to the revolting colonies, yet it had not manifested 
 their hostile intentions so openly as to induce the recal of the 
 British minister from Versailles. Hence, upon the reception of 
 these prizes into a French port, the British ambassador, Lord 
 Stormont, made a strong remonstrance to the cabinet, protest- 
 ing against the admission of American armed vessels and pri- 
 zes into the ports of France, but without effect. Truxtun. 
 after this cruize, domiciliated himself in Philadelphia, from 
 which port he sailed during the remainder of the war, com- 
 manding vessels, of which he was in general part owner. His 
 cruizes were generally successful. 
 
THOMAS TRUXTTJN. 429 
 
 When commanding the St. James, of- twenty guns, and one 
 hundred men, on a voyage to France with Thomas Barclay, Esq. 
 the Consul General from the revolted colonies to that country, 
 a passenger on board, he fell in with a British private ship of 
 war mounting 32 guns, and a proportionate number of men, 
 consequently nearly double his force. After a severe and close 
 engagement, the enemy was obliged to sheer off, and was after- 
 ward towed into New-York in a very crippled state. The late 
 Secretary of the Navy, William Jones, Esq. acted as Captain 
 Truxtun's third lieutenant, and conducted himself during the 
 whole engagement with such distinguished bravery thai he »vas 
 shortly after promoted to a first-lieutenancy. In this vessel, 
 Truxtun returned safe to Philadelpnia with a most valuable 
 cargo. He used every means in his power to harass the enemy 
 on the ocean, during every period of the war, and constantly 
 evinced the most consummate skill and undaunted courage; 
 and his exertions were almost universally crowned with com- 
 plete success. He likewise, in two instances, distinguiaued 
 himself on land. 
 
 On the return of peace, he continued his professional pur- 
 suits between this country, Europe, and Asia, until 1"94, when 
 the lowering appearances ot our affairs with Great Britain, in 
 consequence oi the conduct of her naval commanders, under 
 the celebrated Corn order of Council in 1793, induced the es- 
 tablishment of a navy, which they could then do, without in- 
 fracting the treaty of peace, which prohibited them from such 
 an attempt for twelve years. The term of prohibition had 
 just expired. General Washington, then President, by advice 
 and consent of the Senate, appointed him captain of one of the 
 six ships of war, which had been ordered to be built. But the 
 building of these vessels was suspended, in consequence of the 
 treaty of 1795. On the abrogation of the consular convention 
 with France, in the year 1798, during the administration of 
 Mr. John Adams, Captain Truxtun was directed to superintend 
 the building of the frigate Constellation, at Baltimore, of which 
 he was appointed commander. This vessel was one of the first 
 which put to sea in consequence of the hostile attitude assumed 
 by the United States towards the French Republic. His or- 
 
430 THOMAS TRUXTUN. 
 
 ders were to cruize in the West India seas for the protection 
 of American property. The 9th of February, 1799, he fell in 
 with the French frigate L'Insurgente, Captain Barreau, off' the 
 Island of St. Nevis. With this vessel, he commenced a severe 
 engagement, which lasted for an hour and a quarter, when the 
 Frenchman struck ; but not until his ship had become a mere- 
 wreck. The Constellation, mounting thirty-six guns, and a 
 proportionate crew, lost, in this engagement, only one man killed 
 and two wounded, while the loss on board the Insurgeute, mount- 
 ing forty-four guns, with four hundred and seventeen men, was 
 twenty killed and forty-four wounded. With his prize, he put 
 into Basse Terre, St. Christopner's, where he refitted and re- 
 turned to America. This was the first action which had taken 
 place since the commencement of the disturbance between the 
 United States aid France. The fame of the achievement was 
 blazoned abroad, both in Europe and America, and produced the 
 Commodore the most flattering marks of distinction. The mer- 
 chants at Lloyd's Coffee House, London, sent him a present of 
 a service of silver plate, with a suitable device, valued at up- 
 waids of 600 guineas. The captive commander, in a letter to 
 the commodore while he lamented the unhappy posture of affairs 
 between the two countries, expressed himself as being well 
 pleaded, that the rhance of war had thrown him into such gal- 
 lant and brave hands, and thanked the Commodore for his 
 generous conduct towards himself and his crew. 
 
 During his cruise .he captured many private armed and 
 other vessels, and completely cleared those seas of the French 
 cruizers, by which so many depredations had been committed 
 on the American and English commerce in that quarter. 
 
 While our other vessels of war were busily engaged in con- 
 voying the American commerce, the commodore, (a title ac- 
 quired by courtesy, as the laws of the United States know of 
 no such officer) heard in January, 1800, that the French ship 
 of war La Vengeance, mounting 54 guns, with a complement 
 of 500 men, was lying at Gaudaloupe with troops and several 
 general officers on board, intending to put to sea. He imme- 
 diately changed his cruizing ground, and endeavoured to fall 
 in with her, and, if possible, to bring her to action. The su- 
 
THOMAS TRUXTUN. 431 
 
 periority of her force was, in a great measure, counterbal- 
 anced by a complement of too many men and a number of 
 troops. 
 
 On the first of February, his wishes were gratified, as he 
 descried her on the morning of that day, and after twelve 
 hours chase, brought her to action. In consequence of having 
 too many troops, and a great number of officers on board, the 
 French commander was unwilling to risk a combat, but the in- 
 tentions of his gallant antagonist were very different. An en- 
 gagement took place, and after a close action of nearly five 
 hours, the Frenchman was silenced. During a squall, while 
 the Americans were busily engaged in clearing their ship, the 
 Freuch captain effected his escape. 
 
 This he was enabled to do by the darkness of the night, 
 although prior to this circumstance he had struck his colours, 
 as he afterward acknowledged, but was induced to renew the 
 contest, believing it to be the intention of his antagonist to 
 sink. The Vengeance now arrived at Curacoa in a very 
 shattered condition, having lost in the engagement, one hun- 
 dred killed and wounded, and all her masts and rigging being 
 ' nearly shot away. Congress, on this occasion voted Truxtun 
 an emblematic medal, for his gallantry and good conduct. 
 
 After Mr. Jefferson entered on the duties of the presidential 
 office, <he commodore was ordered to the Mediterranean. 
 From some cause or other, he declined the service, and his re- 
 signation was accepted, and another officer succeeded him. 
 Considering bis resignation as temporary, he some time after- 
 ward wished to resume his naval command, but was informed 
 that, as his resignation had been final, his wishes could not be 
 gratified. He retired to Philadelphia, to enjoy the pleasing 
 scenes of domestic life, until 1816, when the citizens of the 
 city and county of Philadelphia evinced their respect for his 
 various services rendered them in the most perilous times, by 
 electing him to fill the important office of sheriff, the duties of 
 which he has discharged so far with general satisfaction, not- 
 withstanding that his elevation was opposed by party clamour 
 and prejudice."* 
 
 * American Biographical Dictionary, 
 
BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 GILBERT MOTIER L.A FAYETTE, 
 
 Uajor-Gencral in the American Continental Army. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introductory remarks — La Fayette's birth and education — his prospects at 
 the commencement of the revolutionary struggle — he embarks in it, and 
 arrives in the United States. 
 
 The illustrious individual, whose life and character form the 
 subject of the following pages, has claims on America which 
 have always been felt and acknowledged ; but his presence 
 among us has produced sentiments of gratitude and venera- 
 tion that are universal ; which animate every breast and warm 
 every heart. Whilst this spontaneous development of feeling, 
 the free-will offering of a great and powerful people, cannot 
 fail of being gratifying to him on whom it is bestowed, it is 
 highly honourable to our national character. But there are 
 other considerations, connected with this subject, which deserve 
 more attention; we allude to its moral and political influence. 
 
 Will it hereafter be claimed "that republics are ungrateful?" 
 that a free people are capricious and unjust? Let the sponta- 
 neous homage of ten millions of free-born Americans offered to 
 La Fayette, the early and steadfast friend of their country, 
 for ever put at rest so base a calumny. Where can be found so 
 sublime and impressive a scene as that which the United States 
 now presents? It is in vain that we look to history for an ex- 
 ample; the annals of the world afford none; it is an event 
 that stands alone. The triumphs of the greatest and best gen- 
 erals of Rome, were decreed by the senate; and, if they were 
 to be regarded as the voluntary act of the people, they could 
 only be considered as splendid national pageants, wherein grat- 
 itude to the individual to whom they were granted, for services 
 V 55 
 
434 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTfc 
 
 readered, or honor conferred on his country, had little or-nc 
 part; and, although professedly designed in honor of an indi- 
 vidual, the feelings manifested were national pride and exulta- 
 tion at the success and conquests of the arms of the republic. If 
 the Roman triumph had been a tribunal of gratitude, it could 
 not have been bestowed on such men as Sylla and Marius, who 
 distracted their country with civil wars, and drenched -the 
 streets with the noblest blood of Rome. 
 
 In modern times, and in that country which gave birth to the 
 man who is the subject of this work, the world has witnessed a 
 display of national feeling equally unexampled and sublime; it 
 will be perceived that we allude to the return of the exile of 
 Elba, and the re-establishment of the imperial throne. But 
 the return of Bonaparte to France, and the visit of La Fayette 
 to the United States, are entirely dissimilar, and equally un- 
 paralleled. Like the Israelites in Egypt, the French people 
 were groaning under oppression, which was in some measure 
 considered of foreign origin, as it had been established by for- 
 eign bayonets- Napoleon therefore was regarded as a deliverer, 
 and it is to this fact that the enthusiasm of the people is to be 
 attributed. Feeling humbled at the degradation of the nation 
 and exasperated at the insolence of power and the arrogance 
 and rapacity of the old nobility, who had returned, the people 
 flew to their late emperor as a deliverer, and received him with 
 open arms and the warmest enthusiasm. 
 
 The reception of La Fayette, in the United States, was en- 
 tirely different ; the manifestation of feeling was of a different 
 character, and proceeded from different sources. He was not 
 received as a conqueror, nor hailed as a deliverer; neither is 
 this demonstration of feeling, a sudden impulse of joy or pas- 
 sion, for any recent service or achievement conferring benefit 
 or honour on our country; but it is a sentiment of gratitude, 
 deeply implanted in the breast, and revived by his presence, 
 for the most distinguished philanthrophy and disinterested ser- 
 vices, performed nearly half a century ago, and which contri- 
 buted to establish the independence and liberties of our coun- 
 try. Ye monarahs and lordlings of the earth, who regard 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 435 
 
 mankind in the light you do the servants of your household, as 
 the mere instruments of yonr ambition and gratifications, aban ; 
 don, for a moment, your schemes of ameliorating the condition 
 of your people, by restricting their rights and privileges, and 
 checking the exuberance of liberty, and turning your attention 
 to America, witness the reward of a man who is the enemy of 
 tyrants and oppression, and whose life and blood have been de- 
 voted to the cause of liberty and the rights of mankind. Be- 
 hold, though it "blast your eye-balls," the unbought and unbribed 
 homage of a free and great people, offered to their benefactor, 
 the friend of America, the friend of liberty. What a sublime 
 spectacle, to witness an entire nation, after the lapse of half a 
 century, opening their hearts in gratitude and honor of a hero 
 and patriot, who had assisted to break the chains which enslaved 
 their country, and to establish its freedom! How unlike the 
 empty pageant of coronations and royal festivals, where a con- 
 strained homage is offered by slaves to their masters; who, 
 whilst receiving honour from the lips, must be sensible that the 
 heart is often ready to break forth in curses. Can the moral 
 and political effect of this event be lost? Will it not have an 
 influence in Europe on all enlightened and noble minds, with 
 whom the respect of mankind and the veneration of posterity, 
 are the richest reward and the only honourable object of human 
 ambition? 
 
 As America has been the theatre of the earliest and most 
 successful exertions of La Fayette in the cause of liberty ; and 
 as it is here that the fruits of his toils, sacrifices and blood, have 
 ripened to maturity, and promise to be as lasting as his renown; 
 as it is here that his memory will be cherished and revered to 
 the latest posterity, it seems to belong to America to perpetuate 
 his fame, and to preserve a record of his deeds and virtues. 
 This is a part of the debt of gratitude we owe him. His life, 
 like that of our own Washington, should be put into the hands of 
 our youth universally, that the name of the adopted son of the 
 "Father of his Country," the friend\)f America and humanity, 
 the hero, patriot, and philanthropist, should be as familiar, in 
 this, his adopted country, with all succeeding generations, as it 
 
430 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 is with the present: so that the respect and veneration felt for it 
 may be as lasting as his fame, as extensive as his renown. 
 
 The ancient province of Auvergne, now the department de 
 la Haute Loire, gave birth to Gilbert Motier, Marquis de 
 La Fayette. He was born on the 6th of September, 1757. at 
 the Chateau de Chavagnac, situated about two leagues distance 
 from Brioude, in the aforesaid department. Marshal De La 
 Fayette, one of the ancestors of the general, sustained a great 
 military reputation, and Madame De La Fayette, a relation of 
 his, is advantageously known in the literature of France. His 
 father fell in the battle of Rossbach, on tue 5th of November* 
 1757, surviving the birth of his son but two months. 
 
 At the tender age of seven years, young Motier was sent to 
 the College of Louis Le Grand, at Paris, where he received the 
 rudiments of his education. How long he remained here is 
 uncertain; but at the early period of fifteen, he was enrolled 
 among the Mousquetaires du Roi, and before this time he had 
 been made one of the pages of the Queen of France. From 
 the patronage of the Queen, he soon rose to the rank of a 
 commissioned officer, a favor seldom conferred, except on the 
 sons of the most distinguished of the nobility. Young Fayette 
 was in every respect a precocious youth, and in 1774, when but 
 17 years of age, he was married to the Countess Anastasie de 
 Noailles, daughter of the duke of that name: considerations of 
 family interest, as well as mutual affection, concurred in produ- 
 cing this union; which, whilst it made him happy in the posses- 
 sion of an amiable and accomplished lady, less ennobled from 
 her birth than the goodness of her heart and the endowments of 
 her mind, largely augmented his fortune, which before was suf- 
 ficiently ample. He was now in the possession of an estate af- 
 fording an annual income of more than 1 50,000 francs, a princely 
 fortune at that time, when money was worth much more than it 
 is at present. 
 
 Such was the situation of La Fayette when the contest be- 
 tween Great Britain and *her American colonies began to at- 
 tract the attention of the world ; whilst yet in a state of minority, 
 possessing rank, wealth, the favor of the queen, surrounded by 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 431 
 
 all the pleasures of a luxurious capital and volnptuous court, so 
 seducing to youth, and happy in the enjoyment of domestic feli- 
 city. The fairest prospects, also, of preferment and fame were 
 open to him; so that whether ambition or pleasure was the gov- 
 erning motive, he was equally surrounded by the strongest at- 
 tractions conducing to confine him to his home and his country. 
 A distant people are struggling for their rights; the hand of 
 oppression bears heavily on them ; their voice has crossed the 
 Atlantic, and reached the shores of France; the philanthropists 
 and friends of liberty feel a deep interest in the cause of the 
 sufferers, and their most lively sympathies are excited. Young 
 La Fayette, whilst surrounded with all the allurements and fas- 
 cinations of pleasure, was most strongly affected with this noble 
 sympathy; his benevolent heart and ardent mind would not per- 
 mit him to remain merely a well-wisher to the cause of inde- 
 pendence and liberty in America, but prompted him to offer his 
 services and his fortune to this glorious cause. He felt that the 
 cause of the Americans was just, that it was the cause of liberty 
 and humanity. He did not, however, act from the impulse of 
 the heart; but examined the subject, and made himself master 
 of the controversy between the colonies and their parent coun- 
 try, which satisfied him of the justice of the cause of the colo- 
 nies, and confirmed him in the determination to embark in it as 
 a volunteer. Accordingly he presented himself before the 
 American Commissioners, at Paris, and acquainted them with 
 his intention of taking a part in the contest, if his services should 
 be deemed of any importance. The sagacity of Dr. Franklin 
 seldom erred, and discovering the indications of valor and great- 
 ness in this youthful patriot, his offer was readily accepted. This 
 was in 1776, and not long after, the disastrous intelligence 
 reached Europe of the defeat of the Americans on Long Island, 
 their evacuation of New York, the dispersion of the American 
 troops, and the flight of the small remains of the continental 
 army through New Jersey, pursued by a large British force, 
 which completely annihilated the little credit the Americans 
 had acquired in Europe. It was supposed, even by their friends, 
 that the cause of the colonists was destroyed in the bud; the 
 
438 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 flame of liberty, which had burst forth with such splendor, m ai 
 believed to be extinguished by the first blast of power, like 
 the taper's blaze. Opinions which are suddenly formed, and 
 upon superficial knowledge, are as suddenly changed or given 
 up, and from very slight circumstances. At this period a dark 
 cloud hung over the destinies of America, and perhaps of the 
 human race, as it is uncertain to what extent the latter are iden- 
 tified with the former, so far as they depend on civil liberty, 
 As the efforts and power of the Americans were apparently 
 crushed, many of the most enlightened and patriotic friends of 
 liberty in Europe, began to think that they had attached more 
 importance to the contest than it deserved ; that the movements 
 which had taken place were rather to be attributed to the zeal 
 of the leaders, and the sudden exasperated feelings of the peo- 
 ple, than to a deep sense of injustice, or any definite ideas of 
 their political rights, or settled determination to maintain them. 
 
 So unfavorable and extensive was the influence of this disas- 
 trous intelligence, that the American Commissioners at Paris, 
 had not sufficient credit to procure a vessel to facilitate the en- 
 terprize of La Fayette, and under such circumstances, they 
 believed that justice and honor required them to dissuade him 
 from his undertaking for the present. But their efforts were 
 unavailing; so ardently had the feelings of the youthful patriot 
 become enlisted in the cause of America, that they were not to 
 be stifled by the reverses which it had experienced. "I have 
 done nothing," said he to the American Commissioners, "hith- 
 erto, but admire your cause; but now I mean to serve it; the 
 more hopeless it is in the public estimation, the more honor I 
 shall gain by espousing its interests. Since it is out of your 
 power to procure a vessel, I will purchase and equip one myself; 
 and I take upon myself to be the bearer of your despatches to 
 congress." 
 
 It is impossible sufficiently to admire the conduct, and duly 
 to appreciate the motives of La Fayette ; this was not the bold 
 enterprize of an adventurer, who had nothing to lose, and little 
 to expect at home ; neither was he influenced by motives of am- 
 bition, as it was not necessary for him to visit a foreign country 
 
Marquis db la fayette. 439 
 
 for distinction or preferment ; but it was his love of liberty, his 
 devotion to the cause of humanity, with the desire of honorable 
 fame, that led him to become the youthful champion of the 
 cause of America; and foregoing all the pleasures of the capi- 
 tal and the court, and the more substantial enjoyments of do- 
 mestic felicity, to devote his life and his fortune to its service. 
 To leave such enjoyments and prospects at home, and engage 
 in the cause of a distant and foreign people, at a time too, when 
 that cause was regarded as nearly hopeless, without any motive 
 or expectation of personal advantage, evinced suoh ardor and 
 devotion to liberty, as cannot fail of exciting the admiration of 
 the enlightened and patriotic, of all succeeding ages. 
 
 The intended enterprize of La Fayette having become 
 known, active exertions were made to discourage him, and de- 
 feat it. Some were actuated from real friendship to him, and 
 others from a secret hostility to the cause in which he was about 
 to engage. Among other reasons urged to dissuade him, he 
 was told that the king would be seriously displeased, should he 
 interfere in a matter of such moment, and that if he persisted, 
 he would expose himself to serious consequences. 
 
 But the most difficult and delicate point, came nearer to his 
 heart. How could he separate himself from a young and af- 
 fectionate wife, to whom he had been but recently united? 
 This was the most trying difficulty, it required all his resolution 
 and philosophy. It was impossible to believe that she could be 
 induced to consent to a measure which was to separate her from 
 the partner of her bosom, whom she so tenderly loved, and ex- 
 pose him to the perils of a voyage, and the more certain dangers 
 of war. The excitement, and almost distraction of her feel- 
 ings, would view such a parting in the light of a final separation. 
 To avoid her opposition, and perhaps even fearing that the re- 
 monstrances, the tears and entreaties of a beloved wife, might 
 even shake the firmness of his purpose, he concealed his object 
 from her as much as possible ; but as she could not be kept 
 wholly ignorant of his movements, he caused it to be represented 
 to her, that he was going to America on a private mission, and 
 that he would soon return. To avoid a scene which would be 
 
440 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 equally distressing to both, she was not informed of his depar- 
 ture, until, after he had sailed. He purchased and equipped 
 the vessel himself, and brought out a quantity of military stores, 
 all of which were paid for from his private funds. 
 
 After it was publicly known that the young Marquis intended 
 to embark for America, the government made a show of oppo- 
 sition to it; and orders were actually issued to prevent his sail- 
 ing. This, however, was only an instance of the Machiavelian 
 policy of courts, intended to deceive the British minister, and 
 to preserve the appearance of neutrality. It is not, however, 
 to be supposed, that the British cabinet was deceived by this du- 
 plicity ; they were aware of the secret views and designs of the 
 French government, with respect to America. But the profes- 
 sions and appearances of neutrality, as long as they could be 
 kept up, were necessary to prevent, or at least postpone, a rup- 
 ture with Britain. And although the cabinet of Great Britain 
 was fully sensible of the secret designs of France, and aware 
 that her government connived at the enterprizes of its citizens, 
 they wished to avoid a rupture with her if possible. 
 
 France and Great Britain, if not ancient and natural enemies, 
 as is often considered, had long been rivals, and jealous of each 
 other's power. After a long and obstinate contest, a peace had 
 a few years previous, been concluded between them, less for 
 the purpose of maintaining tranquility than that of recovering 
 strength, and preparing to renew hostilities, when it could be 
 more advantageously done. It would be natural to believe, 
 therefore, that France, standing in this situation towards Great 
 Britain, being jealous of her growing power in America, would 
 view with secret satisfaction, the difficulties between this pow- 
 erful rival and her American colonies, which had been increa- 
 sing since 1764, and had finally terminated in an open rupture. 
 In the late war, which had been principally carried on in Amer- 
 ica, France became too well acquainted with the immense im- 
 portance to Britain, of her colonies, and how largely they con- 
 tributed to carrying on hostilities, not to be sensible that their 
 separation from Britain, would be the loss of the right arm of 
 her power. As the rival and enemy of Britain, she felt a strong 
 
MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE! 4<4l 
 
 interest in favor of the Americans; but was unwilling to com- 
 promit her peace with that power, until the progress of events 
 might afford stronger assurance of the stability and ultimate 
 success of the American cause. It being the policy of the 
 French government, therefore, to assist the Americans, yet at 
 the same time to keep up the appearances of neutrality, until 
 matters should arrive at such maturity, as to dictate a different 
 line of conduct, the ministry could not openly approve of the 
 enterprize of the Marquis, who held a place in the royal house- 
 hold, although they secretly encouraged it, whilst they adopted 
 public measures, with the ostensible view of preventing it. 
 The slightest knowledge of the strict police of the old govern- 
 ment of Franee, under Louis XV. and his successor, would 
 prevent the belief for a moment, that the Marquis could have 
 embarked in a foreign enterprize, of a military nature, if the 
 government had been disposed to prevent it. 
 
 On the 19th of April, 1777, La Fayette arrived at Charles- 
 ton, South Carolina, and proceeded immediately to lay before 
 Congress, then in session at Philadelphia, the despatches and 
 letters which had been entrusted to him, by the American Com- 
 missioners at Paris. His language, on presenting himself to 
 Congress, was worthy of the object of his mission, and the 
 character which he has since acquired; — "I am come," said he, 
 to request two favors of this house: the one, to serve in your 
 army in the capacity of a volunteer; the other, to receive no 
 pay." That enlightened body duly appreciatcd^the noble and 
 disinterested conduct of this youthful patriot, and were fully 
 sensible of the influence it might have on the cause confided to 
 their wisdom. Considering his rank and family, his connexion 
 with the French government, the strong recommendations of 
 the American Commissioner, and above ali, his distinguished 
 patriotism, Congress, in July following, adopted the following 
 resolution: — "Whereas, the Marquis La Fayette, in conse- 
 quence of his ardent zeal for the cause of liberty, in which the 
 United States are engaged, has left his family and friends, and 
 crossed the ocean at his own expense, to offer his servicers to 
 the United States, without wishing to accept pf any pension or 
 
 ,56 
 
 * 2 
 
142 MARQriS f*E LA FAYETTfc. 
 
 par whatsoever; and as he earnestly desires to engage in our 
 cause. Congress have resolved that his services be accepted, and 
 that in consideration of his patriotism, his family, and illu? 
 trious relations, he shall hold the rank and commission of Major 
 General, in the army of the United States." 
 
 Thus were the fortunes of a young nobleman, whilst yet in a 
 state of minority, possessing wealth, rant, powerful friends, and 
 in a word, every thing to endear him to home and to his country, 
 connected with those of America, in the doubtful contest in 
 which she was engaged, for her independence and liberty. It 
 might be too much to say, that this event had a decisive influ- 
 ence on the destiny of both; but that it had an important one. 
 cannot now be doubted. The fate of nations has often depended 
 on events less important than this. The example of La Fay- 
 ette, and the distinguished honor he acquired, had a powerful 
 influence on his countrymen; the cause of America became 
 popular in France; a patriotic ardor was excited, and so manv 
 were emulous to engage in the American service, that the Com 
 missioners at Paris were in no small degree embarrassed from 
 the number of applications. The exertions and influence of 
 the Marquis, and his numerous friends at home, must in some 
 degree, have contributed to the assistance afforded by France 
 to the States; and his patriotic conduct, and unbounded liber- 
 ality, devoting both his services and his fortune to the cause.* 
 had a happy influence in America. But whatever effect this 
 'event may have had on the glorious revolution with which it is 
 connected, there can be little doubt of its happy influence on 
 the life and character of the Marquis; it fixed his character, 
 Confirmed his principles, and made him one of the most distin- 
 guished patriots of his own, or any other age. Had he never 
 served in the United States, he would undoubtedly have been 
 a patriot in his feelings and opinions, and a friend of popular 
 rights; but it is by no means certain that he would have been a 
 republican in his principles, or so ardently devoted to civil lib- 
 erty. A man's principles do not operate with full force, when 
 they depend on speculative ideas; it is only by devoting our tal- 
 ents, our services, our blood or fortunes, to the defence o( prin 
 
 i 
 
.vIARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 41- 
 
 ciplcs, that causes them to be revered, or their truth and im- 
 portance justly appreciated. The American Revolution was a 
 school of liberty; and its instructions made a lasting impression 
 on the minds of all engaged in it; and on none more than the 
 adopted son of Washington. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 •Congress gives a commission to'La Fayette, ami he joins the arm v— Sketch oJ 
 (the events of the war — Battle of Brandy v.jne, in which La "f'ayeite was 
 wounded — lie defeats a party of Hessians and grenadiers in Netf Jersey — 
 nas the command of a division assigned him — are disciplined, armed and 
 equipped by himself — Sketches of the events of the war — situation ot the 
 American Army at Valley Forge — Exertion^ and inductee of La Fayette, 
 to allay jealousies towards the commander-in-chief. 
 
 Washington had a wonderful sagacitv and discrimination, as 
 to the character and qualities of men, and he at once received 
 the most favorable impressions frc*n the yousg volunteer: his 
 unobtrusive .deportment, his modest assurance, and his sincerity, 
 afforded a presage of his future character. He possessed in an 
 unusual degree the rare qualities of securing the affections 
 of all who knew him. Washington immediately became ar- 
 dently attached to him; and admitted him into his own family 
 as his adopted son. He declined for some time to assume the 
 commission and rank assigned him by Congress; and when 
 urged by Washington to do it, he replied, "that he was not as 
 yet capable of discharging the duties of so important a post; 
 that he must begin by being instructed himself, and by learning 
 to obey, beford he took upon himself to command." This rea- 
 sonable diffidence in himself, considering his youth and want of 
 experience, whilst it increased the confidence of Washington in 
 his abilities, was calculated to allay the jealousy, and secure the 
 esteem of all his associates inarms. 
 
 The young Marquis repaired to the American camp inNcw- 
 .ferscy, to take a part in the strife of arms; he immediately 
 showed a promptitude and readiness in attention to duty; he 
 examined whatever was within his observation, and applied 
 
ill 31ARQITS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 himself with great diligence, to obtain information of evei r 
 thing concerning the service, and the condition and resotu 
 of the country. By accepting the numerous invitations given 
 him, he soon became acquainted with the officers, and from his 
 frank and unassuming deportment, and easy and agreeable 
 manners, he acquired many friends. His characteristic gener- 
 osity, soon began to display itself; on learning the wants of 
 General Moultrie, ha sent him complete uniforms and equip- 
 ments for one hnndred and fifty soldiers under his command. 
 
 As it was in the American revolutionary war, that the char- 
 acter of La Fayette was formed, and his principles established 
 as that was the theatre of his first and most successful exertions 
 in the cause of liberty, and as this portion of his life is most in- 
 teresting to Americans, and at this time secures to him the uni- 
 ted homage of the entire population of our country, it becomes 
 necessary to detai\ such of the events of that memorable con- 
 test, as will do justice w the exertions and merit of our youth- 
 ful hero. 
 
 The rising sun of the American revolution, which beamed 
 with so much eifulgcnce at Bunker's Hill, was soon overcast wilh 
 impervious clouds, The blood which drenched the soil of Lex- 
 ington, electrified the country, and the people were ready to 
 rush to arms, to avenge their injured countrymen, aud to pun- 
 ish so daring an outrage on tha rights of freemen. The militia 
 of Massachusetts, Connecticut and New Hampshire, collected 
 at Boston, and the heights of "Bunker's Hill first signalized their 
 valor to the astonishment of the mercenaries of Britain. The 
 seat of war being transferred to New York, the militia concen- 
 trated at that place, and Washington, near the close of the year 
 1776, found himself at the head of a numerous body of men, 
 hastily levied, without experience or discipline, and in a consid- 
 erable degree without equipments or arms. Little reliance 
 could be placed on such a force, and if possible its efficiency 
 was less than the moderate expectation of the commander-in* 
 chief. The unfortunate attempt to defend New York, sool 
 dispersed this la/ge nominal force. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 445 
 
 The fatigues and hardships of the camp, even in a few weeks* 
 cooled the ardor that had been raised, and as their term of ser- 
 vice was short, the militia returned home as hastily as they had 
 collected, and Washington was left with the small wreck of an 
 undisciplined force, with which he was compelled to ily from 
 place to place, through New-Jersey. Rapidly pursued by 
 Cornwallis, Washington's escape at Newark, Brunswick, Prince- 
 ton and Trenton must be regarded as almost miraculous. Noth- 
 ing but the dilatory measures and blunders of General Howe, 
 saved the small remnant of the continental army; which after 
 crossing the Delaware, amounted to no more than seventeen 
 hundred men; the Jersey, Maryland and Pennsylvania militia 
 having abandoned him the moment their term of service ex- 
 pired, and although it was apparent that the country was in the 
 most critical situation, yet no considerations would induce them 
 to stay a single day. Availing themselves of their successes, 
 and the despondency and alarm which had been spread through 
 the colonies, the two Howes issued a proclamation in the name 
 of his Britannic Majesty, commanding all persons to desist from 
 acts of treason and rebellion, and promising a free pardon to 
 all who should return to their business and their homes. This 
 proclamation had an astonishing effect on men of weak nervep, 
 easy principles, and large fortunes; thousands who had been 
 ardent in the cause, abandoned it in this hour of despondency; 
 and thinking only of the security of their persons and property, 
 they began to view the subject of dispute in a new light, and 
 thought that the conduct of mpther Britain was not so bad as 
 to justify involving the country in the dreadful evils of a civil 
 war. This was the darkest day in the American revolution ; 
 the hearts of all real patriots sunk within them, yet they did 
 not despair; but with a large portion of the people, the contest 
 was considered as decided, and it certainly was by the British. 
 Congress was without an army; without acent in the treasury, 
 and apparently no prospect of recruiting either; buC what was 
 more alarming, the confidence of the nation was destroyed, and 
 the spirit that had animated the people was gone, which para- 
 lysed all exertion. What remained but Hope and the protec- 
 tion of Providence? 
 
140 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 It was at this gloomy period that the young French .patriot \ 
 fully aware of these alarming circumstances, and against the 
 dissuasions of the American commissioners, engaged In the 
 cause of American independence and liberty, at the very time 
 when it was forsaken at home by thousands who had embraced 
 it. This honourable conduct in a foreigner, contrasted with 
 that of those Americans, who in the day of adversity were ready 
 to abandon the cause of freedom and their country, served to 
 exhibit the disgracefulness and criminality of the latter, in a more 
 glaring light. 
 
 But Washington did not believe, as he informed Col. Reed, 
 * that his neck was made for a halter;" he did not despair of the 
 republic; and having increased his force to about live thousand, 
 principally however raw militia, he recrossed the Delaware, and 
 surprised and captured near one thousand Hessians. This event, 
 which revived the despondent spirit of the Americans, was soon 
 followed by his almost miraculous escape at Trenton, which 
 turned to his own advantage, and terminated in the defeat of the 
 enemy at Princeton. These events revived the hopes if not the 
 confidence of the most despondent, and threw a shade of light 
 over the dark prospect which prevailed. 
 
 So small and inefficient however were the American forces, 
 that Washington was unable to undertake any other enterprize; 
 he retired to Morristown, where he remained during the win- 
 ter, depending for his security, less on his numbers and strength, 
 than the ignorance of General Howe of his weakness; which 
 was so great, that at some periods, he could not have mustered 
 rive hundred men iit for duty. 
 
 ]S T otwithstanding the successful affairs at Trenton and at 
 Princeton, the cause was considered still as nearly hopeless.— 
 Nothing but a desperate cause could have occasioned, or affor- 
 ded even the semblance of justification, for the extraordinary 
 measures of Congress: it is only a desperate cause that requires 
 desperate remedies. Congress conferred on Washington, su- 
 preme authority in every thing which related to the conduct and 
 management of the war; and not only so, but to "arrest and 
 confine persons who refused to take the continental currency. 
 
Marquis de la fayette. 447 
 
 x?r were otherwise disaffected to the American cause." To 
 Create a dictator, and to authorize him to arrest and imprison 
 persons who refused to take a fictitious currency, that they 
 might conscientiously believe to be without value, and likewise 
 to arrest those whom he might suspect ot disaffection, were truly 
 desperate measures, and not very consistent with the object in 
 view ; they aiford the strongest evidence that Congress regarded 
 the cause as a forlorn one. Such was the condition of the coun- 
 try, and the progress that had been made in the war, in the 
 spring of 1777, when the Marquis de La Fayette arrived in 
 America. His zeal in the cause of liberty must have been 
 fervent indeed, to induce him to forego so many flattering pros- 
 pects at home, to engage in acontest so doubtful and discouraging, 
 not to say desperate, and that contest not his own, or of his own 
 country. 
 
 At the opening of the spring campaign, Washington had but; 
 between four and five thousand men, whilst Gen. How r e had 
 nearly thirty thousand: a fearful odds in a struggle for the inde- 
 pendence and liberty of a country. The American troops 
 were in want of every thing, and Washington had no money to 
 provide the necessary supplies: in this emergency Fayette 
 presented him with sixty thousand francs. Washington was 
 greatly affected at such generosity. Howe, on retiring from 
 the Jerseys, took a station on Statcn Island, and after various 
 manoeuvres intended to deceive Washington as to his destination, 
 sailed for the Chesapeake with a fleet of two hundred and fifty 
 ships, and disembarked histroops,amounting to sixteen thousand* 
 at the head of Elk River; from whence they marched toward the 
 Brandywine on the route to Philadelphia. Washington, after 
 various marches and countermarches, in consequence of his 
 perplexity as to the destination of Howe, as soon as he learn* 
 of his arrival in the Chesapeake, marched his troops, amounting 
 to about seven thousand, to oppose his progress. Supposing 
 that the enemy would attempt to cross the Brandywine, at 
 Chad's ford, he posted the main strength of his army at that 
 place; whilst one thousand men occupied the opposite hill, on 
 which a slight breast-work had been thrown up on the njght of 
 
448 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 the lQlh of September. On the morning of the 1 1th, by dawn 
 of light, the British army advanced in two columns, the lef( 
 under Cornwnllis, and the right under Knyphauscn. The latter 
 perceiving that he could not cross without dislodging the Amer- 
 icans posted on the hill under General Maxwell, ordered a 
 detachment to attack them, which Maxwell repulsed; but the 
 detachment being reinforced, and another party proceeding to 
 attack his flank, the American general retreated and crossed the 
 river with little loss, not being pursued by the enemy. The 
 judicious dispositions made by Washington to prevent Cornwallis 
 from crossing the ford, were countermanded in consequence of 
 erroneous information that the enemy was not marching in that 
 direction; by which means Cornwallis's division crossed without 
 opposition, and the Americans were first informed oC it, by the 
 movements of the enemy, to turn their right flank under General 
 Sullivan. A short engagement ensued, which resulted in the 
 route of the Americans, who retreated in great confusion. Gen. 
 Greene was despatched to the aid of Sullivan, and although he 
 inarched four miles in forty minutes, he arrived only in season 
 to cover the retreat of the routed and flying troops. Taking 
 advantage of the engagement with Cornwallis, Knyphauscn 
 crossed Chad's ford, and attacked Wayne and Maxwell on the 
 opposite side of the stream, who were compelled to retire and 
 abandon their batteries and cannon. 
 
 Greene who was pursued by Cornwallis, made a stand at a 
 defile about one mile from the scene of action; the troops under 
 his command consisted of Weedon's Virginia brigade, and Col. 
 Stewart's Pennsylvania regiment. This narrow pass Greene 
 was determined to defend; Cornwallis came up about an hour 
 by sun, when a contest commenced which was terminated only 
 by the darkness of the night. The action w r as fought with the 
 most determined bravery on both sides: no troops ever behaved 
 better, or displayed more cool intrepidity than the Americans 
 under Greene who sustained the heat of the action. This action 
 lias become memorable from its being the first in which La Fay- 
 ette was engaged, and the first in which he shed his blood in thr 
 envtse of liberty. He behaved with the coolness of an old 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 449 
 
 veteran; animated by his example, his brigade made a vigorous 
 charge on the enemy, but was repulsed; he exerted himself to 
 rally them, and lead them again to the charge, but without 
 success. He was in the hottest of the tight, and was wounded 
 by a musket ball in the leg, but would not retire or dismount 
 from his horse to have his wound dressed, but continued at his 
 post during the whole engagement, and displayed the coolness, 
 valour, and presence of mind of a veteran soldier. Several 
 other celebrated foreigners were engaged in this battle; among 
 the number was the Polish Count, Pulaski, who carried off Kii;g 
 Stanislaus from his capital; he so highly distinguished himself, 
 that he was promoted by Congress to be commander of the cav- 
 alry, and brigadier general. About this period his still more 
 distinguished countryman, the Polish patriot and hero, Kosci- 
 usko, arrived in this country, also a volunteer in the cause of 
 Liberty. At this time too, M. de Coudray, a French officer of 
 eminent rank and talents, an enthusiast in the cause of Liberty 
 arrived in America; and who soon afterward was unfortunately 
 drowned in attempting to ford the Schuylkill. La Fayette after 
 the battle, was conveyed to Philadelphia, but on the advance of 
 the enemy, he was obliged to retire to the mountains for security. 
 The Baron de St. Ouary, a distinguished French officer was 
 taken prisoner. 
 
 The result of this battle, considering the number and descrip- 
 tion of troops engaged on both sides, the Americans being 
 greatly inferior in 'both respects, could not furnish any just 
 cause of exultation on the part of the British. Our loss in 
 killed, wounded and prisoners exceeded twelve hundred; and 
 theirs amounted to about eight. The British however contrived 
 to magnify its importance, and thus to multiply the number of 
 its partizans throughout Pennsylvania, which increased the 
 embarrassments of the continental army, whilst it facilitated 
 the plans of Howe. 
 
 Washington retired to Chester, towards Philadelphia, where 
 he rallied his forces, and intended still to dispute the entrance 
 of the British into Philadelphia. Had the British general 
 foljowed up his advantages, instead of remaining three days, 
 
 57 
 
460 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 the situation of the Americans would have been very critical, 
 and perhaps the contest have been decided; he might easily 
 have overtaken our army at Chester, before Washington had 
 had time to rally his troops, or reinforce; or he might have 
 pushed on and reached Philadelphia before him. But the evil 
 genius of Howe concurred with the exertion and skill of Wash- 
 ington, for the salvation of America. The two armies again 
 met on the 17th, near Warren Tavern, on the Lancaster road, 
 and were again about to contest the possession of Philadelphia, 
 with fearful odds, on the part of the British, who were flushed 
 with recent victory. But that power who rides on the wind 
 and directs the storm, ha*d ordered otherwise; a tremendous 
 storm, accompanied with torrents of rain, compelled the hostile 
 parties to separate, a few minutes after the commencement of 
 the engagement. On the following day, Washington moved off 
 towards Reading, ordering Wayne to remain in the rear of the 
 enemy, who, on the night of the 20th, was surprised by a de- 
 tachment of the enemy, and sustained a serious loss. 
 
 Sir William Howe, having succeded by his manoeuvres and 
 movements in drawing Washington to a distance from the city, 
 suddenly crossed the Schuylkill, and entered Philadelphia in 
 triumph on the 26th, without opposition. The congress had 
 adjourned on the 18th, to Lancaster, and from thence they soon 
 repaired to Yorktown. 
 
 Washington moved with his army to Skippack Creek, about 
 sixteen miles from Gerrnantown; where being reinforced by 
 2,500 men, on the 3d October, he advanced to attack the ene- 
 my's encampment at Gerrnantown. Early on the morning of 
 the 4th, the Americans commenced the attack: it was unexpected 
 by the enemy, and our troops would probably have gained a 
 decisive victory, had it not been for the unfortunate detention 
 of the main army, to attack Chew's stone house, into which a 
 party of the enemy had retreated for refuge. While the main 
 division of the army was thus detained, about what was of little 
 or no consequence as to the principal object, the enemy had 
 time to make their dispositions; and the column under General 
 ^refine, came up and engaged the right wing of the enemy: a 
 
MARQUIS DE'LA FAYETTE. 451 
 
 i 
 
 spirited contest ensued, in which the Americans for some time 
 had the advantage. The contest was very hotly kept up for a 
 considerable time; but at length, the Americans were compelled 
 to give way in every direction; and as they were retreating, 
 Cornwallis came up with a squadron of horse, which routed and 
 threw them into great confusion. Our loss was severe, amouri- 
 ting in killed, wounded, and prisoners, to about eleven hundred; 
 among the killed was General Nash of North Carolina. The 
 enemy's loss in killed and Wounded was eight hundred. 
 
 La Fayette, impatient of confinement, and anxious again to 
 be in the field, before his wound was healed, proceeded to join 
 General Greene in New Jersey. Having obtained the command 
 of a small body of militia, in conjunction with Colonel Butler, 
 who had a rifle corps of about the same number, on the 25th oF 
 November, whilst attempting to reconnoitre the position of the 
 enemy he fell in with a detachment of about three hundred 
 men, consisting of Hessian and British Grenadiers. A spirited 
 engagement immediately followed; the enemy were soon routed 
 and fled, with the loss of twenty or thirty killed, and a number 
 wounded, and were pursued to their camp. 
 
 General Greene, in noticing this encounter, spoke in very 
 flattering terms of La Fayette; — -" The Marquis," he observed, 
 seemed to search for danger, and was charmed with the behaviour 
 of his men." In his letter to Washington, La Fayette remarked : 
 " I found the riflemen superior, even to their own high reputa* 
 m tion; and the militia surpassed all the expectations I could have 
 formed of them." An account of this victory was transmitted 
 to the congress, by Washington, who were so sensible of the 
 merit of La Fayette, that they immediately promoted him to 
 the command of a division. This consisted at first of twelve 
 hundred young men, which was afterwards increased to two 
 thousand. They were disciplined ajnd instructed by their young 
 general, who was so delighted with, and so diligent in attending to 
 the duties of his new situation, that he scarcely allowed himself 
 time for sleep or refreshment. 
 
 The troops under his immediate charge, formed a distinct 
 co^ps, and were peculiarly his. They were not only formed an.d 
 
452 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 disciplined by him, but the soldiers were armed and equipped 
 at his own expense; he also presented each ofiicer with an ele- 
 gant sword and belt. These, and other acts of munificence in 
 promoting the objects of the war, had reduced his funds so low 
 that he was under the necessity of sending to France for addi- 
 tional supplies. His assiduity in the discharge of his duties, his 
 attention to the Avants of every soldier, his unbounded liberality, 
 and his engaging manners, rendered him beloved and respected 
 by almost every man under his immediate command. Although 
 bur a youth himself, he was literally the father of the troops he 
 commanded, he was truly the soldier's friend. He has since de- 
 clared that he never was so truly happy as when engaged in these 
 delightful employments, and surrounded by his friends, a term of 
 endearment which he applied to those under his immediate charge. 
 
 Apparently trifling incidents often open the heart of a man, 
 and unfold his dispositions more than great events. About this 
 period a circumstance occurred too honorable to the heart of 
 La Fayette, to be omitted. "While inspecting the camp, he 
 beheld a man wretched in his dress, and miserable and dejected 
 in his appearance, seated at the foot of a tree, his face covered 
 with his hands, and his elbows resting on his knees; he seemed 
 an object of such deep # melancholy and distress as attracted the 
 attention of the general; who, after listening for some moments 
 to his sighs, inquired in that feeling and interesting manner so 
 peculiar to him, the cause of his grief. The unhappy man re- 
 plied that he had lately joined the army, leaving a young wife • 
 and two small children at home, who were entirely dependent 
 on him for sustenance, and that the fears of their suffering during 
 his absence, filled his heart with sorrow. La Fayette, after 
 hearing his story, inquired his name and place of residence, 
 and told him not to grieve, as his family should be provided for, 
 which promise he neither forgot nor disregarded. 
 
 The Americans had attempted to obstruct the navigation of 
 the Delaware, by chevaux-de-frise, fire-ships and forts, and to 
 cut off the communication between the fleet and army of the 
 enemy, which would have rendered their situation at Philadel- 
 phia very critical. The two Howes being sensible of this, made 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 153 
 
 exertions corresponding to the importance of the object, to open 
 the navigation of the river. The most important of the forts, 
 was that at Red Bank, which being attacked by fifteen hundred 
 Hessians, it was gallantly defended by Colonel Greene, who 
 repulsed the assailants with immense loss, Colonel Donop, (heir 
 commander, being himself mortally wounded and made prisoner, 
 with many other officers. But for the darkness of the night, 
 which covered their flight, the whole party would have fallen 
 into the hands of the Americans. This distinguished conduct, 
 was duly honored by congress, and an elegant sword presented 
 to Colonel Greene. 
 
 But notwithstanding the failure of this attempt, Sir William 
 Howe did not abandon the object of opening the navigation of 
 the river; but ordered an attack to be made on Fort Mifflin, on 
 Mud Island, which was most gallantly and obstinately defended ; 
 but after having sustained the fort for nearly two months against 
 the daily attacks of the enemy, it was abandoned on the 15th of 
 November, the works being entirely destroyed, which left the 
 garrison exposed to the fire of the enemy. Colonel Samuel 
 Smith of Maryland, who commanded the garrison, received a 
 sword from Congress, for his gallant conduct in the various 
 assaults on Fort Mifflin; two hundred and fifty of the garrison 
 were killed and wounded. Of all the works on the river, 
 Fort Mercer alone remained; it was intrusted to General 
 Greene, who did every thing that could be done, to defend it; 
 but not receiving the expected reinforcements, it was abandoned 
 in pursuance of the advice of a council of officers. After the 
 fall of the forts, the vessels and galleys were obliged to be aban- 
 doned. In these various conflicts, the Americans sustained 
 vsevere losses; the enemy also lost two «hips of the line; but 
 they succeeded in obtaining the command of the river. 
 
 Early in December, the B' itish General marched from Phila- 
 delphia to White Marsh, and maneuvered to draw Washington 
 into an engagement, but did not dare to attack him in his posi- 
 tion, although the American.troops were in the most deplorable 
 condition; in want of shoes, stockings, breeches and blankets. 
 After some" skirmishing, the enemy returned to the city, where 
 
454 MARQUIS DE LA PAYETTE. 
 
 he found very snug winter quarters. His adversary having re- 
 tired, Washington moved with his army to Valley Forge, a 
 place uniting almost every advantage, where he took up his 
 winter quarters, about sixteen miles from Philadelphia. 
 
 Thus terminated the campaign of 1777, which commenced 
 under such favorable auspices on the part of the British, with 
 such ample means, and from which the enemies of America, 
 both at home and in England, had expected so much. The 
 possession of a city abandoned, by a considerable part of its 
 inhabitants, and the submission of the surrounding country for 
 fifteen miles in extent, were the only results of' a campaign, 
 which, after great expectation and immense expense, was to 
 prostrate the power and hopes of America, and teach the rebels 
 better manners, and convince them by the argumentumbaculinum 
 — conviction per force, of the omnipotence of parliament, and 
 its authority to bind the Americans in all cases whatsoever^. 
 
 The British had not been defeated; they had not been disap- 
 pointed by not receiving expected reinforcements, or by the 
 failure of the co-operation of their fleet; their exertions had 
 not been paralyzed, and their plans frustrated by any adverse 
 occurrence, that was out of the contingences which fairly belong 
 to the operations and events of war.* Neither had they been 
 opposed by a numerous force, or one well disciplined and sup- 
 plied with every thing calculated to render it efficient. Why 
 then did they accomplish so little, and what were the difficul- 
 ties with which they had to contend? The want of energy in 
 the British commander, may have been one reason of this fail- 
 ure; but the principal causes existed in the nature of the con- 
 test ; and the many obstacles which attend the conquest of a 
 people contending for their liberty, and animated by a spiiit 
 which such a cause is calculated to inspire. Had the people 
 been united, the British would have found much more formida- 
 ble obstacles to contend with; but instead of this, the country 
 was distracted with dissensions, two great parties dividing pub- 
 lic opinion; the tories were not only opposed to the revolution, 
 but formed a local and active auxiliary force, to co-operate 
 with the enemy : this party in the middle states, comprised no 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 45ar 
 
 Small portion of the men of property; jealousies and coldness 
 also, prevailed among the whigs; and a spirit of monopoly and 
 cupidity having sprung up, motives of gain prevailed over sen- 
 timents of patriotism, and men of wealth engaged in ruinous 
 speculations: all these causes tended to embarrass and paralyze 
 the endeavors of congress and their commander. Congress 
 had not the power to command the little resources the coun* 
 try possessed; was without money and without credit, and the 
 army in want of every thing. If, with all these embarrassments 
 and obstacles, the enemy was able to effect no more, what would 
 he have accomplished if the people had been united and under 
 an efficient government? 
 
 The American army remained undisturbed in their quarters 
 at Valley Forge, but sixteen miles from Philadelphia, the more 
 comfortable quarters of the enemy, although barefoot, and al- 
 most literally naked, and greatly inferior in numbers to the 
 British. In this destitute condition of the American troops, La 
 Fayette, at his own expense, procured many articles to supply 
 the most distressing wants of the soldiers. He was too much 
 the soldier's friend to be satisfied to be himself possessing every 
 enjoyment, whilst the troops, were suffering the severest priva- 
 tions. To relieve the distresses of the army, and assume the 
 appearance of confidence and cheerfulness, Washington and 
 the officers encouraged pastimes and amusements, and took a 
 part in them themselves. From the conciliatory deportment, 
 the pleasing manners ; from his regard for the rights of the sol- 
 diers, and his unbounded liberality, the example and exertions 
 of no one, except the commander-in-chief, had more influence 
 than those of La Fayette. Washington, and the other officers, 
 invited their ladies to their quarters, to partake in their festivi- 
 ties, and, by their presence, to enliven the dullness of the scene: 
 by their vivacity and sprightliness, to spread a charm of gaiety 
 and pleasure over the haggard features of v\ar, and the suffer- 
 ings and gloom of the camp — that in these transient enjoyments, 
 past distresses might be forgotten, present sufferings alleviated, 
 and future prospects brightened. These patriotic women, 
 whilst they felt a deep anxMy for the <=afetv of their husband*- 
 
45G MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 and friends, engaged in a contest for life and liberty with such 
 unequal means, suppressed their uneasiness, and assuming the 
 appearance of cheerfulness and joy themselves, did every thing 
 in their power to impart these feelings to others, and give an 
 appearance, at least, of pleasure and gaiety to the scene. Their 
 patriotic motives and example Were worthy the highest praise, 
 and will compare with the most distinguished matrons of the 
 ancient republics of Greece or Rome. During the winter, 
 Washington caused the whole army to be inoculated with the 
 small-pox, which was conducted with such secrecy that the 
 British were not informed of it until the whole operation was 
 ended. The sufferings of the army were inconceivably severe, 
 during the rigors of the winter; being not only destitute of 
 clothing, but often of provisions. At one period the commissary 
 delivered the last ration in his possession ; and, from want of ma- 
 terials to raise their barracks from the ground, the damp struck, 
 through their straw beds, which produced a contagious and 
 mortal disease, to which the soldiers were the miserable victims. 
 But the army bore all these sufferings with fortitude and pa- 
 tience, if not without complaint. The commissioners appointed 
 by congress to examine the condition of the army, reported that 
 nothing could exceed their sufferings, except the patience with 
 which they supported them. 
 
 To add to these difficulties, jealousy and envy had produced 
 secret enemies to the commander-in-chief, who, by plots and 
 intrigues, attempted to deprive him of the confidence of the 
 army and of the people, and thus, if not to strip him of his 
 power, at least to cast a shade over the lustre of his well-earned 
 fame. There were others, whom charity requires us to believe, 
 honestly entertained fears that Washington, after establishing 
 the independence of the country, like Cagsar or Cromwell, 
 would assume sovereign power himself. The jealous spirit of 
 the times, and the unlimited authority conferred on him by Con- 
 gress, favored these unworthy suspicions, which, had they not 
 been allayed, might have proved so fatal in their consequences. 
 No one was more active or succesful in his exertions to allay 
 them, and satisfy the public mind, than General La Fayette., 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 451 
 
 Being a foreign nobleman of a princely fortune, no ore could 
 suspect him of harboring designs hostile to the liberties of Amer- 
 ica, and from the sacrifices he had made in her canse, general 
 confidence was reposed in his integrity. From his situation 
 with relation to Washington, being his confidential friend and 
 adopted son, to whom he unbosomed Ins most secret thoughts, 
 he possessed great personal influence, which was exerted in a 
 judicious and efficacious manner. So disinterested a patriot, 
 who had poured out his blood and his treasure in the cause of 
 American liberty, was listened to, when he spoke in vindication 
 of the character of Washington, whose inmost thoughts he 
 knew — whose heart was opened to him. His exertions con- 
 tributed greatly to soothe the feelings and allay the jealousies 
 which had disclosed themselves and threatened to produce the 
 most alarming consequences. 
 
 Those who suppose that it was with his sword only that Fayr 
 ette served America, are greatly mistaken. It is not only for 
 his exertions in the field, and the blood spilt in our service, that 
 we are indebted to this distinguished patriot; but still more for 
 his wisdom, his counsels, his treasure, and unexampled munifi- 
 cence, and most of all, for his extensive personal influence, both 
 in France and America, which was exerted to the utmost, to 
 advance the interest of that cause in which he had so heroically 
 and patriotically engaged. 
 
 The energy of mind, the unshaken firmness, and unwearied 
 exertions of Washington, enabled him to sustain himself under 
 all the difficulties which surrounded him. Reduced as his army 
 was, and a large portion of what remained, from sickness a d 
 privations, unfit for duty, nothing but the commanding position 
 he had chosen, and the vigilance with which his camp was 
 guarded, could have secured him against attack, situated in the 
 vicinity of an opposing army of nearly twenty thousand strong, 
 we,ll armed and equipped, and possessing all the means of war. 
 58 
 
(458) 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Consequences of the fortunate termination of the campaign in the north-* 
 Treaty with France— La Fayette appointed to command an expedition 
 against Canada — it is given up — His successful retreat from Beacon Hill, 
 neaT Philadelphia — He challenges Lord Carlisle — Enterprize against Rhode 
 Island, and conduct of La Fayette — He returns to France — is received with 
 great joy and respect — exerts his influence with the government to induce 
 it to afford more ample assistance to America, sails again for the United 
 States. 
 
 If little glory or advantage had been acquired in the cam- 
 paign in the middle states, that in the north had been still more 
 unfortunate. Commenced with high hopes, which were still 
 more inflated by flattering circumstances of success that at- 
 tended its early operations, it terminated on the plains of Sar- 
 atoga most gloriously to the American arms, and most advanta- 
 geously to the cause in which she was engaged, but to the inex- 
 pressible disappointment and mortification of Britain. An 
 army of ten thousand men, veteran and experienced troops, 
 under an able and enterprising commander, well equipped and 
 provided, opposed only by a greatly inferior force of regulars 
 and the militia of the country, inspired the highest expecta- 
 tion. Such an army, with such a leader, it was believed would 
 inarch through a country destitute of fortresses, and so feebly 
 defended, without difficulty and without danger. It was expec- 
 ted to compel the submission of all the northern part of the 
 state of New York, and, by forming a junction with the forces 
 of Sir Henry Clinton, on the Hudson, establish the authority 
 of Britain over the entire state of New York, so important from 
 Its position, and in every other respect. 
 
 But this formidable army and array of power, and all the 
 hopes depending on them, were annihilated in a few months. 
 The sun of Burgoyne's glory, which rose with such brightness, 
 was soon overcast with clouds, and set in darkness and in blood. 
 It is thus the hopes of man perish ! On the seventeenth of 
 October, '77, the remains of General Burgoyne's army, amount- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 4^ 
 
 rag tlicn to nearly six thousand men, was surcendered to the. 
 Americans, under the command of General Gates. 
 
 This was the most important event since the commencement 
 of the war, and gave the first serious shock to British power in 
 America. It was not the capture of six thousand men, and the 
 withdrawal of that force from the troops employed by the en- 
 emy, that gave importance to this victory ; this loss to the Brit- 
 ish army might easily be supplied; but it was the moral influ- 
 ence of this victory, not only in America, but in Europe, which 
 gave it its importance. It revived the hopes of the Americans, 
 and inspired fresh confidence; it increased the respect and au- 
 thority of Congress, animated the continental armies, and gave 
 activity to the recruiting service. But its influence abroad was 
 scarcely less important than at home; it decided the policy of 
 France, and enabled the American Commissioners to conclude 
 a treaty of amity and alliance with her, which they had been 
 endeavoring to effect since 1776. This treaty, which had so 
 important n bearing on the American revolution, was concluded 
 on the 6th of February, 1778, by Count de Vergennes, on the 
 part of France, and Dr. Franklin, Arthur Lee, and Silas Deane, 
 on the part of the Uiited States. 
 
 Until the capture of Burgoyne's army, France had not suffi- 
 cient confidence in the ultimate success of the Americans, to be 
 induced by all the exertions of Franklin and his associates, as- 
 sisted by the influence of La Fayette and his friends in France, 
 to openly acknowledge the independence of the United States; 
 but the destruction of an army of ten thousand men inspired 
 such reliance on the firmness and ability of America, to main- 
 tain the character she had assumed, that France not only ac- 
 knowledged her independence, but agreed to become herself a 
 party in the war. Immediately after the conclusion of the 
 treaty, the American Commissioners were presented to the king, 
 and Dr. Franklin accredited as Minister Plenipotentiary of the 
 United States to the Court of France. 
 
 The news of the treaty with France, filled America with joy; 
 it animated the heart of the patriot, and nerved the arm of the 
 warrior. From the zeal of La Fayette in the cause of Amerl- 
 
460 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE, 
 
 can liberty, and from his long continued exertions and anxiety, 
 to induce his native France to afford her assistance, no one re- 
 joiced more sincerely at this heart-cheering intelligence, than 
 this disinterested patriot. Being one of the first who received 
 the news, he could not forego the pleasure of being the bearer 
 himself of so agreeable intelligence to the commander-in-chief; 
 who immediately ordered the troops to be assembled in brigades, 
 the treaty to be read, prayers and thanksgivings to be publicly 
 offered up to that Being who" turneth the hearts of Kings as the 
 rivers are turned." This was followed by a general discharge 
 of cannon, which resounded through the camp, accompanied 
 with every other demonstration of joy. At a given signal, the 
 whole army cried out at once, Long live the King of France! 
 In the admiration and gratitude manifested toward France, La 
 Fayette came in for a share; crowds gathered around him, and 
 vied with each other in expressing their congratulations on the 
 occasion, and their sense of the importance of his exertions and 
 influence in producing this long desired connexion between the 
 two countries. 
 
 A plan had been formed in conjunction with La Fayette and 
 Mr. Gerard, the French minister, for the conquest of Canada. 
 Dr. Franklin was instructed to lay this plan before the court of 
 France, a co-operation on her part being expected. This pro- 
 ject originated with the French minister, and has been supposed 
 to have had other objects in view, than to aid the cause of the 
 United States. That the recovery of her lost possessions, iu 
 America, was an object that France looked upon, as a possible 
 result from the struggle for the establishment of the independ- 
 ence of the United States, is neither unreasonable or improbable. 
 But that this enterprize was proposed to deceive the United 
 States, and divert their forces to an object no way interesting to 
 them, or that it was conceived without regard to their interests, 
 is a position that is unsupported. But, however this maybe, 
 the character of the Marquis de La Fayette, his high sense of 
 honor, the zeal which he had manifested in the cause of Amer- 
 ica, his chivalrous spirit and ardent love of glory, forbid any 
 suspicion that he was acquainted with any such ultimate designs 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 4fil 
 
 on the part of France, as have been suggested, if any such 
 were entertained; he acted from more noble and exalted feel- 
 ings; the hope of acquiring military fame, and advancing the 
 cause of independence and liberty. 
 
 Early in the year '78, the Marquis proceeded, by the direc- 
 tion of Washington, to Albany, where a force was collecting 
 for carrying into execution the enterprise against Canada. The 
 plan of operations was to proceed from that place, with a sui- 
 table force, pass the lakes on the ice and seize on Montreal and 
 St. John's. Various expedients had been devised to overcome 
 the obstacles of the enterprize; but on Fayette's arrival at Al- 
 bany, he found neither men, ammunition or provisions adequate 
 to the undertaking. From the dilatory movements in making 
 the preparations for the expedition, it was so much delayed that 
 a thaw supervened, which with other obstacles occasioned its 
 abandonment. The ardor of youth, and love of glory, with the 
 temptation of an independent command, so flattering to a young 
 officer, did not warp the judgment of La Fayette, and lead him 
 to pursue an enterprise, under such circumstances as that it 
 could scarcely have avoided a disastrous termination. With 
 the foresight of age, and the wisdom of experience, the youth- 
 ful hero ahandoned the expedition ; and congress was so satisfied 
 with the prudence and propriety of this measure, that they ex- 
 pressed their approbation of his conduct by a vote of thanks. 
 
 To improve the occasion to the best advantage, which the 
 news of the treaty with France presented, congress prepared 
 "An address to the inhabitants of the United States of Amer- 
 ica," which, in addition to being published in all the Gazettes, 
 was ordered to be read from the pulpit by every minister of the 
 gospel in the country. This state paper contained an eloquent 
 appeal to the patriotism of the people, which was invoked by 
 every principle of honor, justice and interest. And in the 
 warmth and liberality of feeling which the occasion had excited, 
 congress adopted a resolution, granting half-pay for life, to all 
 officers who should serve during the war. This resolution be- 
 came a fruitful source of uneasiness and difficulty as it respected 
 the army and the people; the grant was afterward commuted to 
 full pay for five years. 
 
4ft3 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 The favourable impulse, which had been given to public 
 opinion in the United States, by the capture ef Burgoyne, was 
 greatly increased by the treaty of amity and alliance with 
 France, and the expected co-operation of that power in the war. 
 Confidence was restored, and a spirit of patriotism revived; ac- 
 tivity was exhibited in the recruiting service, and the zeal and 
 patriotism of individuals led to the most honorable exertions to 
 provide ways and means for provisioning the army. A lar^e 
 fund was raised by subscription in Philadelphia, to encourage 
 the recruiting service and to reward such as might distinguish 
 themselves by their exertions to fill up the ranks of the army. — 
 A society was formed and a subscription set on foot, which pro 
 duced nearly two hundred thousand pounds sterling, that constitu- 
 ted a fund or stock forprovisioning the army. The ladies of Phila- 
 delphia, on this occasion were not behind the men in patriotism 
 and zeal in the cause of their country. They formed, contribu- 
 tion societies, and the example of the metropolis being followed 
 by the rest of the state, more than 1 50,000 dollars were collected 
 and forwarded to the army. To their great honour, many con^ 
 tributed their jewels, and other valuable superfluities, to supply, 
 the wants and add to the comforts of the soldiers who were 
 fighting for their protection and the liberties of the country. 
 
 In May '78, Sir William Howe, having requested permission 
 to return to England, was succeeded in the command of the 
 British army, by Sir Henry Clinton; who, on the 18th of tbe 
 month, gave a brilliant entertainment, which lasted twelve hours. 
 General Washington, whose army had been considerably rein- 
 forced, on learning this fact, ordered General La Fayette to 
 proceed from the head quarters of the army at Valley Forge, 
 and attack the enemy,should an opportunity offer. Accordingly, 
 with a detachment of 2,300 men, he crossed the Schuylkill and 
 took a position on Beacon Hill, about twelve miles in advance of 
 flie American camp. Here he intended to pass the night and 
 watch the enemy's movements, and take advantage of any cir- 
 cumstance which might favour his designs. But Sir Henry 
 Clinton being informed of this movement, ordered General 
 Grant with three thousand troops to surprise La Fayette, and 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE- 463 
 
 <;ut off his retreat: and the Marquis being ignorant of this move- 
 ment, General Grant by a circuitous route, succeeeded in taking 
 a position about two miles in the Pear of La Fayette. At the 
 same time, a large force marched from Philadelphia, to attack 
 him in front. His situation was critical, and General Grant 
 considered his destruction as certain; and had he had the pre- 
 caution to have secured Matron Fort, a post on the Schuylkill, 
 he would probably have been correct. But the Marquis per- 
 ceiving the enemy marching to attack him, both in front and in 
 rear, aware of their design, tiled off his troops in good order,and 
 moved with such rapidity as to reach Matron Fort, a distance 
 of about one mile, and to pass the river before the enemy came 
 up. Although the success of this retreat is in some measure 
 attributable to the oversight of the enemy; yet the conduct of 
 the Marquis was such as would have done honor to the most 
 experienced general. It is one of the highest attributes of a 
 skilful general, to be able promptly to take advantage of every 
 circumstance which may favour his plan.?, especially in extrica- 
 ting himself from unexpected difficulties. The loss of so 
 considerable a portion of the American army, at the time when 
 the campaign was about to open, would have been a very serious 
 embarrassment to the intended operations. The salvation of 
 the American troops therefore, by the address and skill of La 
 Fayette, excited great joy, and his own conduct much admira- 
 tion and applause; and with no one more than Washington, 
 who received the young hero with every mark of satisfaction. 
 Early in June, the British commissioners, the Earl of Carlisle, 
 Mr. Eden, and Governor Johnstone arrived at Philadelphia, 
 with authority to negotiate a peace between Britain and the 
 United States. Sir Henry Clinton was also joined in the com- 
 mission, and the celebrated Dr. Ferguson was its secretary. — 
 An attempt was immediately made to open a negotiation; but 
 Washington refused a passport to the secretary, which compelled 
 the commissioners to have recourse to correspondence. Their 
 first letter was very complimentary to Congre:s, and expressed 
 a willingness to make everv concession, short of acknowledging 
 fhe independence of the United States. Congress replied with 
 
404 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 great firmness and dignity through their President, that they 
 could not negotiate as the subjects of his Britanic Majesty, and 
 that, however desirous they were for peace, the recognition of 
 the independence of the United Slates, must be a preliminary 
 step to any negotiation. The commissioners, in their answer, 
 said that they had already admitted a degree of independence, and 
 that they were disposed to go farther, if Congress would comrau" 
 nicate to them the powers with which they were authorized to 
 treat with foreign nations. To this artful communication, Con- 
 gress believed they consulted their dignity best by their silence: 
 and thus the negotiation ended. 
 
 Having failed in their attempt at outwitting Congress by their 
 diplomatic arts, the commissioners had recourse to the most 
 shameful attempts at corruption. . A direct bribe often thousand 
 pounds sterling, was offered to Mr. Reed if he would further 
 the views of the commissioners. Mr. Reed's reply was worthy a 
 true patriot and ofthe times thattried men'sintegrity: "although 
 I hardly consider myself, (said he) worth purchasing, yet the 
 King of Britain is not rich enough, to do it." The next attempt 
 was made on Robert Morris and Francis Dana, with the same 
 success. The commissioners soon found that ' British gold' was 
 as little efficacious as British arms in reducing America. The 
 commissioners in their communications made several offensive 
 insinuations respecting the intentions and policy of France. — 
 This met the decided disapprobation of Congress, offended the 
 people, and so exasperated La Fayette, that he conceived him- 
 self bound to challenge Lord Carlisle, president of the board 
 of commissioners ; which he accordingly did, leaving to him the 
 choice of arms. This step, which, under other circumstances 
 might have been regarded as the bravado of a rash and pre- 
 sumptuous young man, was well approved of, and was no( 
 entirely useless. As commissioner, Lord Carlisle could not 
 accept the challenge, and it was properly declined. The com- 
 missioners having rendered themselves odious, and from the 
 general feeling toward them, this procedure of La Fayette, 
 was gratifying to the public mind, and contributed in some 
 measure, to lessen the importance, of the," commissioners, ii- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 465 
 
 die eyes of the common people. The spirited manner, in 
 which the Marquis had resented the intimation that France 
 was actuated by selfish and dishonourable views, in her conduct 
 towards the United States, seemed to confirm the confidence 
 of the people in their allies; and the readiness with which he 
 offered to expose his life in every way, to serve the American 
 cause, tended to raise his reputation for Courage, and increase 
 his popularity and influence. Apprehending a fleet and an auxil- 
 iary force from France, secret orders had been sent out by one 
 of the commissioners to Sir Henry Clinton, for him to evacuate 
 Philadelphia, and return to New York with his army, with as 
 little delay as possible. He accordingly prepared to obey the 
 order, and soon was ready to move. 
 
 "Washington, as soon as he became sensible of the enemy's 
 intention of abandoning Philadelphia, called a council of the 
 officers, to consider the expediency of inviting a general engage- 
 ment, which, as he could bring near eleven thousand men into 
 the field, he thought advisable. But his officers determined 
 otherwise, and Washington for a few days yielded to their 
 advice. He however, in the mean time, sent Morgan, with 600 
 men, to reinforce General Maxwell's brigade, with orders to 
 obstruct the progress of the enemy as much as possible through 
 the Jersey's; while he himself with the main army moved 
 towards Corryell's Ferry, that he might be ready to seize any 
 advantageous opportunity that might offer for a general attack. 
 The progress of Clinton, encumbered as he was with, an enor- 
 mous quantity of heavy baggage, was necessarily slow — for in 
 addition to the usual baggage, and provision for such an army, 
 he had provided against the possibility of suffering in case of 
 unexpected delays in his march, by a store of provisions suffi- 
 cient to have lasted him for a month; so that his baggage wag- 
 ons, horses, and carts, resembled the suite of an army of a 
 hundred thousand men, and covered almost as great an extent 
 of ground. Upon reaching Mount Holly, Clinton, contrary to 
 the expectation of Washington, took the road towards Sandy- 
 Hook, instead of keeping to the left towards the Raritan, and 
 thus induced Washington to suppose that his object was to draw 
 
466 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 him into an engagement in the flat country, and then by a rapid 
 change of motion to pursue the route to Brunswick. But 
 Clinton was neither anxious to seek nor to avoid an engagement; 
 he had chosen that route, most probably because he thought it 
 possible that General Gates might form a junction with Wash- 
 ington at the Raritan, and thus cut off his retreat. Whatever 
 might have been his object, Washington was for a time deceived 
 by it; but the moment he discovered that Clinton meant to 
 pursue his course to the sea coast, he determined not to let him 
 escape without battle. 
 
 With this view, he despatched a body of troops under the 
 Marquis de La Fayette, with orders to approach and harrass the 
 enemy's rear, while he moved on with the main army to his 
 support. Clinton, supposing from this measure that Washing- 
 ton's object was simply to cut off his baggage, placed his whole 
 train of incumbrances in the front, under the orders and protec- 
 tion of General Knyphausen, and remained himself with the 
 main body of his army, to check the attempts of the Marquis 
 de La Fayette. This made it necessary for Washington to send 
 a larger force to the aid of the Marquis, and two brigades being 
 ordered to join him, the whole force was placed under the 
 command of Major General Lee. Clinton, with his whole 
 army lay at Monmouth, a few miles from the heights of Middle- 
 town; it was important therefore that the attack should be 
 made before he could reach so advantageous a position. At 
 day-light on the morning of the 28th, Gen. Knyphausen moved 
 on from Monmouth with the baggage, while Sir Henry with the 
 elite of the army, maintained his position until eight o'clock. — 
 Upon receiving intelligence of this movement, Washington sent 
 orders to Lee at Englishtown, seven miles from Monmouth, to 
 march on to the attack of the British rear; unless th%re should 
 appear " very powerful reasons" to deter him — giving him infor- 
 mation at the same time, that he was approaching to his support. 
 
 Lee lost no time in putting his troops into motion, and by the 
 time he had advanced within a few miles of Monmouth, he dis- 
 covered that Clinton was also in motion, and advancing to meet 
 him. Gen. Grayson, with the two brigades of Scott and Varnum 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 467 
 
 led the van of Lee's division, and were soon joined by the 
 Marquis de La Fayette. The whole party seemed to be at a 
 loss to understand the movements of the enemy, and continued 
 to pass and repass the ravines which every where intersect this 
 part of the country. In this state of indecision, Cornwallis, 
 who led the van of the enemy, made a furious charge with his 
 dragoons upon the Marquis de La Fayette, and drove him back 
 in some confusion. — Lee, in the mean time, under supposition 
 that Cornwallis was detached from the main army, made a feint . 
 of retreating, that he might draw the general after him; but 
 one of his officers, General Scott, who had under him the greater 
 part of Lee's forces, misunderstood the orders, and actually 
 retreated. Tbi's obliged Lee to follow until he could overtake 
 him, the a r>ny hanging upon his rear. In this situation he was 
 met by Washington, who, vexed at a supposed disobedience of 
 his ciders, accosted him with rather more vehemence than the 
 hoc temper of Lee could brook; he refused to explain his 
 conduct, and a warm altercation ensued. 
 
 Washington, now himself at the head of the army, moved on 
 to battle, and a general action was soon brought on which lasted 
 through the whole of one of the hottest days in summer. 
 
 Lee, who had been ordered again to lead the van, met the 
 whole shock of the British advance, which he sustained with 
 his usual gallantry until so closely pursued by the British horse, 
 that his troops gave way, and he was again compelled to retreat; 
 which he did with the most perfect order and coolness. Before 
 the retreat of Lee, General Greene moved up with his division, 
 and in conjunction with General Wayne, took such a position 
 that the British gave way, and retired behind a defile; where 
 before any disposition could be made to attack them, night 
 came on and both armies drew off from the contest. 
 
 No advantage was gained to either party by this hard fought 
 battle ; nor was the loss very great on either side. The British 
 left on the field two hundred and forty-nine, who were afterward 
 buried by our men, besides those that were buried by their own 
 men during the night — and forty-four wounded. Among their 
 killed was Lieutenant Colonel Monckton, an officer of consider, 
 able distinction. 
 
 
468 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 The Americans lost 69 killed, and 160 wounded. Among 
 the killed, were Lieutenant Colonel Bonner, and Major Dick- 
 man. Many of the soldiers of both armies fell dead upon the 
 field, from excess of fatigue and heat. 
 
 Washington lay upon his arms all night, expecting to renew 
 the attack in the morning; but Sir Henry Clinton disappointed 
 him by moving off at midnight with his whole army; aiui as 
 Washington, though he might very justly claim the victory, was 
 not in a situation to pursue him over the deep sands of Jersey, 
 he continued his route without further molestation to New York. 
 Washington, after refreshing his wearied troops, and providing 
 as far as posssble for the comfort of the w&unded, moved on at 
 his leisure towards the Hudson."* 
 
 Lord Howe had scarcely left the Delaware, wit\\ the British 
 fleet, before Count D'Estaing, with a much superior force, ap- 
 peared on the coast of Virginia, and in a few days came into 
 the mouth of the Delaware. His object was to have surprised 
 the British fleet at Philadelphia; and had not his voyage been 
 prolonged by bad weather, he could hardly have failed of doing 
 it: had he arrived ten days earlier, the enemy's fleet, and prob- 
 ably their army, must have fallen. The Count D' Estain^. hav- 
 ing set on shore M. Gerard, the French minister, sailed for New 
 York, and on the 1 lth day of July commenced the blockade of 
 the British fleet in that harbor. He made several attempts to 
 enter the harbor, but could not get his large ships over the bar; 
 a great number of English vessels, loaded with provisions and 
 other stores for the army, which daily arrived, fell into his 
 hands. On the 22d he sailed for Newport, to co-operate with 
 the American troops for the reduction of the British force on 
 R* ode Island. The enemy had- G,000 men on Rhode Island, 
 under Gen. Pigot, which had remained there since December, 
 '76. Washington had formed a plan of fitting out an expedi- 
 tion to Rhode Island, to destroy the enemy's forces there, which 
 was entrusted to General Sullivan: La Fayette with two thou- 
 sand men was ordered on this expedition to reinforce General 
 
 H, I —■■ ML !■■■■» . W i ■ — -■ -.. ■ — ■ ■ ■ I — - 
 
 * Allen's Revolution 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 469 
 
 Sullivan. On the 8th of August the French fleet entered the- 
 harbor of Newport, the British having previously, and to pre- 
 vent their falling into the hands of the French, burned and sunk 
 six vessels that lay in the harbor. On the following day Lord 
 Howe made his appearance not far from Point Judith, with 
 his squadron, considerably increased. Count D'Estaing being 
 informed of this, immediately sailed in pursuit, with a view to 
 bring him to action; bul the tempestuous state of the weather 
 frustrated tbe efforts of both fleets, and after three days, during 
 which the storm lasted, each party seemed satisfied to leave the 
 great question of superiority undecided. The moment that 
 Count D'Estaing left the harbor, General Sullivan embarked 
 with his troops, at Tiverton, for Rhode Island, but from the un- 
 favorableness of the weather, it was eight days before he could 
 bring himself before the enemy. He was sensible that all his 
 hopes of success depended on the co-operation of Count D'Es- 
 taing, and as he manifested no intention of returning into the har- 
 bor, General Sullivan deputed General Greene and the Marquis 
 
 de la Fayette, to visit the count, and request his immediate return 
 into the harbor. He seemed willing himself to do this, but his 
 
 officers unanimously opposed it, and urged his proceeding im- 
 mediately to Boston to refit, agreeably to his instructions ; and 
 not having firmness enough to resist their united opinion, he ac- 
 cordingly sailed for Boston. General Greene and La Fayette 
 returned, much dissatisfied with the result of their mission. 
 The conduct of the French officers excited loud and general dis- 
 approbation with the Americans; and a formal protest, signed 
 by all the American officers, except La Fayette, was drawn up, 
 against the conduct of the French admiral, in abandoning the 
 expedition, at a time, when, with his co-operation, they had ev- 
 ery reason to expect success; which was represented as derog- 
 atory to the honor of France. This produced no other effect 
 than a spirited reply from the Count. 
 
 It was no sooner known that Count D'Estaing had sailed to 
 Boston, than the militia and volunteers began to move off, and 
 in a few days General Sullivan found his force so reduced, that 
 ft became necessary to abandon his original design, and prepare 
 
470 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 for evacuating the island. On the 28th a council of war was 
 held, at which it was determined to retire to the northern ex- 
 tremity of the island, and to remain there long enough to make 
 a further effort to induce the French admiral to return with his 
 squadron. In effecting this movement, a severe action was 
 brought on, between a part of the American army under Gen. 
 Greene, consisting of about 1200 men, and four British regi- 
 ments and a party of Hessians. The engagement lasted all the 
 afternoon of the 29th, and terminated without any great advan- 
 tage to either party. Gen. Sullivan closely pursued by two 
 large detachments of the enemy's troops, conducted the retreat 
 with great ability and success. The rear guard, that covered 
 the retreat, receiving a reinforcement, turned the attack on the 
 enemy, and repulsed them with a loss of between two and three 
 hundred men. 
 
 In the meantime the Marquis de La Fayette had been des- 
 patched to Boston, to make another effort to induce the French 
 admiral to return with the fleet. Such was his ardor and ex- 
 pedition, that he arrived in Boston, a distance of seventy miles, 
 in seven hours. He had a long interview with the admiral and 
 his officers, in which he left no means untried to induce him to 
 return with his fleet, but without effect.' The officers of the 
 squadron refused to depart from their first determination, and 
 the Marquis was again mortified by the failure of a second at- 
 tempt to persuade his countrymen to afford that assistance to 
 the Americans, which the latter considered they had a right to 
 expect. The Count, however, was so far influenced by his re- 
 presentations, that he offered him what land forces he could 
 spare, to co-operate with the American troops on Rhode Island. 
 
 La Fayette returned from Boston in about six hours and a 
 half, and arrived near midnight on the 30th of A'ugust, at the 
 very time the American army was retreating. He was disap- 
 pointed and mortified on learning that an action had taken place 
 the day before, as he expected to have got back in season to take 
 a part in it. He, however, had an opportunity to assist in con- 
 ducting the retreat, and was assigned to command the troops 
 that were to cover the retreating army. This difficult service 
 he performed with such coolness, intrepidity and address, tha 
 
Marquis de la fayette. 471 
 
 he did not sustain the loss of a single man. The details of this 
 skilful and masterly retreat, were recorded at length in the 
 public registers. 
 
 The zeal the Marquis had shown for the interests of the Uni- 
 ted States, the sacrifice of feeling he made by repairing to Bos- 
 ton, at the time when an action was momentarily expected, and 
 the courage and ability with which he conducted the retreat 
 after his return, gave great satisfaction to congress, who testified 
 the same by the following resolution: 
 
 "Resolved, That the President be requested to inform the 
 Marquis de La Fayette, that Congress have a proper sense of 
 the sacrifice he made of his personal feelings, in repairing to 
 Boston to promote the interest of the States, at a time when he 
 momentarily expected an opportunity of distinguishing himself 
 in the field ; and that the bravery which he displayed on his re- 
 turn to Rhode Island, when the greater part of the army had 
 already effected its retreat, together with the ability with which 
 he withdrew the picquets and advanced posts, merits the un- 
 qualified approbation of this Assembly." 
 
 This resolution was accompanied by the following letter 
 from Mr. Henry Laurens, President of the Congress, to the 
 Marquis de La Fayette, Major General in the United States 
 army: 
 
 Philadelphia, \3th Oct. 1778. 
 
 Sir — I feel a peculiar pleasure in fulfilling the instructions 
 implied by a resolution of Congress, passed on the 9th inst. and 
 herewith enclosed, expressing the sentiments of the Repre- 
 sentatives of the United States with regard to your conduct 
 during the recent expedition, undertaken against Rhode 
 Island. 
 
 "You will but render, sir, an act of justice to Congress, bv 
 regarding this testimonial as a tribute of respect and gratitude, 
 offered by a free people to one who has rendered them essen- 
 tial services. I have the honor," &c. 
 
 The following is the Marquis's reply: 
 
 Head-Quarter*, 93d Oct. 1778. 
 
 "Sir — I have this instant received the letter which you did 
 
472 Marquis de la fayette. 
 
 me the favor to write, under date of the 13th instant, in which 
 you inform me of the honor which Congress has deemed fit to 
 confer on me, by its very flattering resolution. Proud as I am 
 of such distinguishing approbation, I am not the less grateful to 
 find that my efforts have been, in a measure, regarded as useful 
 to a cause, in which I have taken so deep and so lively an inte- 
 rest. Be pleased, sir, to present to Congress my unfeigned and 
 heartfelt thanks, accompanied with the assurances of my sincere 
 attachment, the only homage which is worthy of being offered 
 to the representatives of a free people. 
 
 "From the moment I first heard the name of America, I 
 began to love her; from the moment I understood that she was 
 struggling for her liberties, I burned to shed my best blood in her 
 glorious cause; and the days I shall devote to the service of 
 America, wherever and whenever it may be, will constitute the 
 happiest of my life. Yet I never so ardently desired, as I do now, 
 to deserve the generous sentiments with which these States and 
 their representatives have honoured me: and the flattering 
 confidence which they have so freely reposed in me, has filled 
 my breast with the most lively gratitude, and the most lasting 
 affection." 
 
 With the expedition on Rhode Island, ended the campaign of 
 '78, being the first after the alliance with France, in which noth- 
 ing was gained to either party. Several unfortunate contingen- 
 cies, and the skill and gallantry of Lord Howe, although pos- 
 sessing only an inferior force, prevented the Count D'Estaing from 
 rendering us any important service. But the arrival of the 
 French fleet was by no means without its advantage; it not only 
 afforded unequivocal assurance of the friendship of France, but 
 also that she felt so far interested in the contest, as to be willing 
 to become, in some measure, a party to the war, or at least to 
 assume a portion of the burdens of it, by assisting in carrying it on. 
 This consideration seemed to animate our armies and the people^ 
 and to keep up a spirit of activitv in our resistance. 
 
 About this time La Fayette received letters from his friends 
 in France, which acquainted him with the sensation that had 
 been produced in England, by the alliance between France and 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 1/3 
 
 America, and the assistance afforded the Americans, both by 
 public force; and individuals, the subjects of France: and assu- 
 ming him, it was the general exp.ctation, that war would soon be 
 declared by Great Britain against his native country. The 
 ardour with which the Marquis was then engaged in the service 
 of America, and the field of glory that lay open to him, did not 
 lead him to forget that he was a Frenchman; and his obligations 
 to his native country, when she required his services, he 
 considered as greater than those he owed to America, which he 
 regarded as his adopted country. Under these circumstances, 
 he did not hesitate a moment, but resolved to return to France. 
 He felt more strongly the obligation to pursue this course, from 
 the consideration that his conductand example in serving Amer- 
 ica had contributed in some degree to involve his own country 
 in war. But he calculated that his return to France, would 
 not deprive him of the power of serving America, for he had 
 reason to believe he should be able to render her important 
 assistance at home. 
 
 Before he left the head quarters of the army,he communicated 
 to Washington his opinion respecting theassistance tobe afforded 
 by France, which was, that in order to be of any essential benefit 
 to America, she must send an adequate naval and land force, 
 and put it under the immediate control of the American com- 
 mander-in-chief. Unless the French forces were under the 
 command of the American general, the same difficulties which 
 were experienced in the case of Count D'Estaing, might be 
 expected to occur, and would render the co-operation of France 
 of little service. A French naval or military officer might, 
 allege, as had once been done, the secret orders of his sovereign, 
 whenever he wished to avoid a dangerous or disagreeable 
 employment. 
 
 The modesty of Washington would not permit him to concur 
 decidedly in the Marquis's opinions, although it was apparent 
 that he approved of them. Accordingly he wrote to his friends 
 in France, who possessed any influence at court, that if the 
 French government really wished to aid the American cause, it 
 must send out a larger auxiliary force? and submit it to the. 
 
 60 
 
474 MARQUlS 1>E LA FAYETTE. 
 
 'immediate command of the American commander-iil-clucf, whom 
 "he took care to give such a character as to inspire the highesi 
 confidence. 
 
 In October, La Fayette left the head-quarters of the arm)-, 
 took leave of his beloved Washington, and proceeded to Phila- 
 delphia, where congress were in session, to request permission to 
 return to France. lie presented to Congress a letter from 
 Washington, and another written by himself, which disclosed 
 his views and objects in the request he made; and the subjoined 
 resolution, adopted thereon, shows the high opinion congress 
 had of his merits at that time : — 
 
 "//i Congress, October, 21, 1778. 
 
 Resolved, That the Marquis La Fayette, Major General in 
 the services of the United States, have leave to go to France; 
 and that he return at such time as shall be most convenient to 
 him. 
 
 Resolved, That the President write a letter to the Marquis La 
 Fayette, returning him the thanks of Congress, for that disinter- 
 ested zeal which led him to America, and for the services he hath 
 rendered the United States, by the exertion of his courage and 
 abilities on many signal occasions. 
 
 Resolved, That the Minister Plenipotentiary of the United 
 States of America, at the Court of Versailles, be directed to 
 cause an elegant sword, with proper devices, to be made and 
 presented in the name of the United States, to the Marquis La 
 Fayette." 
 
 The foregoing resolves were communicated to tLve Marquis 
 in the following letter. — 
 
 "Philadelphia, Oct. 24, 177Q-. 
 
 SIPt — I had the honor of presenting to Congress your letter, 
 soliciting leave of absence. I am directed by them to express 
 their thanks for your zeal in promoting that just cause in which 
 fhey are engaged, and for the disinterested services you have 
 rendered to the United States of America. 
 
 In testimony of the high esteem and affection in which you 
 are held by the good people of these States, as well as an ac- 
 knowledgment of your galla-iitry aijd military talents, displayed 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. tl3 
 
 711 many signal occasions, their representatives, in congress- 
 assembled, have ordered an elegant sword to be presented to you 
 by the American Minister at the court of Versailles. Enclosed 
 within the present cover, will be found an act of Congress of the 
 21st inst., authorizing these declarations, and granting a furlough 
 for your return to France, to be extended at yourown pleasure. I 
 pray God to bless and protect you; to conduct you in safety to 
 the presence of your Pi*nce, and to the re-enjoyment of your 
 aoble family and friends. 
 
 I have the honour to be, &c. 
 
 H. LAURENS." 
 
 To this note the Marquis made the following reply: — 
 
 Philadelphia, Oct. 26, 1778. 
 
 SIR — I have received your Excellency's obliging letter, enclo- 
 sing the several resolutions congress have honoured me with, 
 and the leave of absence they have been pleased to grant. Noth- 
 ing can make me happier, than the reflection that my services 
 have met with their approbation. The glorious testimonial of 
 confidence and satisfaction respectfully bestowed on me by the 
 representatives of America, though rauch superior to my merit, 
 cannot exceed the grateful sentiments they have excited. I 
 consider the noble present offered me in the name of the United 
 States, as the most flattering honour. It is my most fervent dcr 
 sire, soon to employ that sword in their service, against the com- 
 mon enemy of my country and their faithful and beloved allies. 
 That liberty, safety, wealth, and concord may ever extend and 
 bless these United States, is the earnest wish of a heart glow- 
 ing with a devoted zeal and unbounded love for them, and the 
 highest regard, and most sincere affection for their represen- 
 tatives. 
 
 Be pleased, Sir, to present my thanks to them, and to ac- 
 cept yourself the assurance of my respectful attachment. 
 
 LA FAYETTE." 
 
 In January, 1779, he embaiked at Boston, carrying with him 
 an undiminished attachment to the cause he had espoused and 
 the gratitude of the American people. The regrets which his 
 departure n^rasioncd, were alleviated by the expectation that 
 
MARQtflS DE LA FAYETTE 
 
 he would still continue to exert himself in the cause of America, 
 and that his influence at home might be as useful as his services 
 in the field. 
 
 His character and situation, at this time, were without any 
 example in history. He possessed the admiration of France 
 and America, and of the friends of liberty through the world ; 
 he connected, in some measure, the interests of two hemispheres, 
 and exerted an important influence on the destinies of the hu- 
 man race. His devotion to the cause of liberty, and his heroic 
 achievements in the field, in its support, were known throughout 
 the civilized world ; and all this when he was but 22 years of 
 age. What monarch might not have envied this young hero 
 and patriot? His fame had gone before him, and on his arrival 
 at Havre, he was welcomed by his countrymen, with all that 
 enthusiasm which is peculiar to their character. His disinter- 
 ested patriotism, attended with the sacrifice of a considerable 
 portion of his fortune; his chivalrous heroism, which shed his 
 blood in the field of battle, and the distinguished honor which 
 had been shown him in America, excited their highest admira- 
 tion. His popularity, if not equally great with all parties, ex- 
 tended to all; notwithstanding, an order was issued by the king, 
 directing him to visit no one at court but his relations, as a pre- 
 tence of censure for his having left France without permission. 
 
 Among his admirers, was the young queen, Marie Antoinette, 
 then justly celebrated for her beauty, vivacity, and wit, and af- 
 terwards not less distinguished for her misfortunes. She pos- 
 sessed a mind richly endowed and highly cultivated, open and 
 generous. The munificence, devotion, and chivalrous spirit of 
 the young Marquis, made a strong impression on her heart, and 
 she became his greatest admirer and protectress. She honored 
 him with many private audiences, and was extremely inquisitive 
 about every thing relating to America, and particularly as to 
 the character of Washington. This was a theme fruitful in it- 
 self, which excited all the enthusiasm of La Fayette, and flu 
 partiality of the friend and the fidelity of the soldier were man- 
 ifested with ardour of feeling, earnestness of manner, and elo- 
 quence of language, which could not fail of making a deep and 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 477 
 
 lasting impression on a generous and susceptible mind. The 
 queen when she afterward saw Dr. Franklin, with great affa- 
 bility observed, "Doctor, do you know that La Fayette has 
 made me in love with your General Washington? What a 
 man he must be, and what a friend he possesses in the marquis?" 
 
 He arrived at Versailles on the 1 2th of February, and the 
 next morning had an interview with one of the ministers, but 
 did not see the king. 
 
 The cause of America, at this time, when a war was almost 
 daily expected with England, being universally popular in 
 France, La Fayette was not more the object of the enthusiastic 
 admiration of the people, than of the respectful attention of the 
 king and the ministry. Count de Vergennes, a man of great 
 talents and experience, then at the head of affairs, had frequent 
 and long conferences with the marquis, in which the latter en- 
 deavored to convince the minister of the policy, even as it res- 
 pected the interests of France, of sending a larger force, and 
 more ample supplies, to the assistance of the Americans; and 
 particularly of the necessity of submitting the direction of these 
 forces to the government of the United States. This last point 
 was one of the greatest delicacy and difficulty; but being se- 
 conded in his endeavors by the late minister to the United 
 States, and his numerous friends, he at length succeeded in con- 
 vincing the ministers of the expediency and propriety of the 
 measures recommended by him. Accordingly, orders Avere soon 
 issued for the equipment of a large fleet, which was to take on- 
 board a numerous body of troops. " 
 
 These measures of the government being known, the spirit of 
 the day, the influence of the example of La Fayette, and the 
 fame he had acquired in America, produced an effect not more 
 war became the popular subject of the day, and a perfect mania 
 novel than honorable to the character of France. The American 
 prevailed, which affected all classes; but the young nobilitv 
 were the most ardent to go to America, and, like La Fayette, 
 to distinguish themselves in the cause of liberty in the nev, 
 world, struggling to defend itself against the mighty efforts of 
 one of the most powerful nations on the globe. The American 
 
•1*78 MARQUIS DE hX FAYETTE. 
 
 war was the favorite object of ambition, and the desire to en 
 gage in it, and serve under General Washington, was so ardent" 
 and extensive, as to occasion the same exertion and intrigue as 
 usually constitute the means of obtaining the most desirable sit- 
 uations in the gift of the government. Thousands of applica- 
 tions were, from necessity, rejected. The influence and assis- 
 tance of La Fayette was sought on all hands; he was surrounded 
 with applicants, and beset with solicitations and entreaties; — 
 some wished for one birth and some another; some as aids-de- 
 camp, others as secretaries, &c. 
 
 Doctor Franklin, the American minister, was extremely per- 
 plexed from the numerous applications made to him, and in no 
 small degree embarrassed how to act in a concern of so much 
 delicacy. 
 
 After a short tour to Auvergnc, for the purpose of visiting hi:-, 
 family and friends, and arranging his private affairs, he returned 
 to Versailles, then the regular residence of the king and royal 
 family, to ask permission of his sovereign to revisit America. 
 Louis, on giving his consent, informed him that he could not bet- 
 ter serve his king, than by serving in the American war. He- 
 soon embarked at Havre, in a government frigate, fitted out for 
 the purpose, to give him a more safe and honorable passage. 
 A great number of officers went out with him, candidates for 
 honorable fame, and he carried a large quantity of arms, ammu- 
 nition and supplies of every kind. 
 
 The resolution of congress before recited, being communica- 
 ted to Franklin, he took the necessary measures for carrying 
 into effect the wishes of congress before Fayette left France. 
 On presenting the sword, Franklin addressed to Fayette the 
 following letter, written in his usually clear and forcible style: 
 
 Passy, 24th August, 1779. 
 "Sir — The congress, sensible of your merit towards the Uni- 
 ted States, but unable adequately to reward it, determined to pre- 
 sent you with a sword, as a small mark of their grateful ac- 
 knowledgment. They directed it to be ornamented with suit- 
 able devices. Some of the principal actions of the war, in 
 which you distinguished yourself by your bravery and conduct. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 47$ 
 
 are, therefore, represented upon it. These, with a few emble- 
 matic figures, all admirably well executed, make its principal 
 value. By the help of the exquisite artists France affords, I 
 find it easy to express every thing but the sense we have \)f your 
 zcorth, and our obligations to you. For this, figures, ana even 
 words, are found insufficient. 
 
 "I therefore only add, that, with the most perfect esteem and 
 respect, I have the honor to be your obedient servant, 
 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN." 
 
 "P. S. My grandson goes to Havre with the sword,and will 
 have the honor of presenting it to you." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 He arrives at Boston — his reception — He repairs to the head quarter^ of the 
 army — and to congress with the official intelligence of the expccted\succors 
 from France — The French fleet and troops arrive — their landing superinten- 
 ded by La Fayette — His letter to Samuel Adams — He commands an expe • 
 dition to the south to oppose Arnold — He saves Richmond — He forms a 
 junction with Wayne — Saves the Military stores at Albemarle — Cojnwallis 
 retreats and is followed by La Fayette — Engagement near Williaireburgh-. 
 
 La Fayette arrived at Boston on the 26th of April, 1779, 
 and landed amidst the crowd which lined the harbor, an<} was 
 conducted with great parade, the roar of cannon, the ringing oi 
 bells, and the display of fireworks, to the suite of rooms which 
 had been prepared for him, by the local authorities. The re- 
 turn of this disinterested patriot, and early and faithful friend 
 of America, occasioned the warmest enthusiasm and unbounded 
 joy. In this cradle of the revolution, he was hailed as the pa- 
 triot, hero, and friend and benefactor of America. There was 
 no place in the union, where the inhabitauts were more heartily 
 engaged in the war, than Boston, or had suffered more fro(n the 
 arrogance of power, and the ravages of lawless warfare; and 
 their exasperated feelings toward their oppressors, made them 
 more enthusiastic in their devotion to the young hero arid pa- 
 triot, who had acted so distinguished a part in the maintenance 
 
480 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 of the independence and liberty of the country. Illuminations, 
 fire-works, and public entertainments were among the visible 
 testimonials of gratitude and joy; they were not like the empty 
 pageants of royal festivals or coronations, but were the sponta- 
 neous effusions of free and honest hearts offered as grateful 
 homage to one who had rendered such important services to 
 their country. The honors shown to La Fayette were not con- 
 fined to the Bostonians; the citizens of all the neighboring 
 towns, and surrounding country, collected on the joyous occa- 
 sion, to participate in the demonstrations of gratitude and 
 respect. 
 
 At this period, it could scarcely have been believed, that the 
 man who was thus honored as the nation's friend and ben- 
 efactor, after the lapse of forty-four years, would by the same 
 community, be welcomed as the "Nation's Guest," with the 
 exhibition of grateful and joyous feelings, if possible, more 
 heart-felt and profound. 
 
 On the 11th of May, he communicated confidentially to 
 Washington, the agreeable intelligence of the expected succors 
 from France. 
 
 But these scenes of rejoicing and respect did not long detain 
 the American general ; ardent to be actually engaged in the 
 service of his adopted country, he soon proceeded to the head- 
 quarters of the army at Morristown, and from thence to the seat 
 of government, to lay before congress the official information 
 that the French government was preparing to send a respecta- 
 ble naval and land force to America, to assist in the prosecution 
 of the war. Who can describe the interview between La Fay- 
 ette and Washington; kindred spirits and co-patriots; although 
 born in different hemispheres, engaged in the same cause of 
 liberty and humanity — one at the head of America, the other 
 bringing into the same contest the auxiliary power of France, 
 both having staked their fortunes and their lives on the issue 
 of the great cause in which they were engaged. Their first 
 interview, after a separation of some time, under circumstances 
 so auspicious to that cause, produced mutual feelings of joy 
 -:md affection, too deep and glowing to be described. The sub 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 481 
 
 "joined letters to Congress, and the resolution of that body, 
 afford some evidence of the estimation in which he was held at 
 this time. 
 
 Head- Quarters, Morristown, May 13, 1780. 
 
 "The Marquis La Fayette does me the honor to take charge 
 of this note. I am persuaded Congress will participate in the 
 joy I feel at the return of a gentleman who has so signally distin- 
 guished himself in the service of this country; who has given 
 so many and so decided proofs of his attachment to its interests; 
 and who ought to be dear to it by every motive. The warm 
 friendship I have for him, conspires with considerations of public 
 utility to afford me a double satisfaction in his return. During 
 the time he has been in France he has uniformly manifested the 
 same zeal in our affairs, which animated his conduct while he 
 was among us; and has been upon all occasions, an essential 
 friend to America. He merits, and I doubt not congress will 
 give him every mark of consideration and regard in their power. 
 
 I have the honour to be, &c. 
 
 GEO. WASHINGTON. 
 
 To His Excellency, the President of Congress" 
 
 « Philadelphia, Nay 16,1780. 
 
 " After so many favors, which, on every occasion and particu- 
 larly at my obtaining leave of absence, congress were pleased 
 most graciously to bestow on me, I dare presume myself entitled 
 to impart to them the private feelings, which I now so happily 
 experience. 
 
 In an early epoch in our noble contest, I gloried in the name 
 of an American soldier; and heartily enjoyed the honour I have 
 of serving the United States; ray satisfaction is, at this long 
 wished for moment entirely complete, when putting an end to 
 my furlough, 1 have been able again to join my colours, under 
 which I hope for opportunities of indulging the ardent zeal, the 
 unbounded gratitude, the warm, and I might say, the patriotic 
 love, by which I am forever bound to America. 
 
 I beg you, sir, to present Congress with a new assurance of 
 
 61 
 
482 MARQUIS DE LA FAlETTE. 
 
 my profound respect and my grateful and affectionate sen- 
 timents. 
 
 I have the honour to be, &c. 
 
 LA FAYETTE." 
 In congress May 16, 1780. "Resolved, That congress con- 
 sider the return of the Marquis La Fayette to America to 
 resume his command in the army, as a fresh proof of the distin- 
 guished zeal and deserving attachment which have justly 1 
 recommended him to the public confidence and applause; and 
 that they receive, with pleasure, a tender of further services of 
 so gallant and meritorious an officer." 
 
 The military operations had been of little moment during the 
 absence of La Fayette; but the events in Europe had the most 
 important influence on the American cause. Not only France 
 and Spain had acknowledged the independence of the States, 
 but both of these powers had united in a declaration of war 
 against Great Britain. Bat as there are few advantages without 
 some accompanying drawback, these events in Europe whilst 
 they were calculated to be highly beneficial to the cause of 
 America, and diffused a spirit of joy through the union, occa- 
 sioned too great expectations, which operated unfavorably, not 
 only on the people but on congress. Many thought the war with 
 France and Spain would so occupy the attention and means of 
 Great Britain, that she would be obliged to abandon her project 
 of coercing her revolted colonies into submission. Washington 
 laboured hard to convince congress of the folly of this opinion; 
 that the naval superiority of Britain over France and Spain both, 
 would render the war with them of less consequence than was 
 supposed: and that this event, instead of occasioning Britain to 
 relax, would induce her to redouble her exertions, and call forth 
 all her energies in the prosecution of the war with America. — 
 It was the dictate of policy as well as safety, to prepare for 
 carrying on hostilities on a broader scale than had yet been 
 done. 
 
 On the 13th of July, Washington received intelligence from 
 New York, that a large French squadron had been seen off the 
 Capes of Virginia, which was soon followed by a letter from 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 4Q& 
 
 Count de Rochambeau and Chevalier de Tiernay, acquainting 
 him with their arrival. And what rendered this intelligence 
 more important and agreeable, Count de Rochambeau informed 
 Washington, that he had the most positive orders to place himself 
 entirely under the direction of the American congress. La 
 Fayette was requested by the American commander, to super- 
 intend the reception of his countrymen ; and at the same time 
 had confidential instructions to propose to the new allies, a 
 combined plan of operations against New York, then in the 
 hands of the enemy. 
 
 The first division of the French fleet arrived at Newport, and 
 consisted of two ships of eighty guns, one of seventy-four, four 
 of sixty-four, two frigates of forty, several smaller vessels, and 
 thirty-two transports, under the command of Rear Admiral de 
 Tiernay. There were four regimentsof troops on board,besides 
 the Duke de Lauzun's legion, composed of volunteer noblemen 
 and a battalion of artillery, with a complete train of bombar* 
 ding and field pieces, all under the command of Lieutenant 
 General Rochambeau . This was the first division of the French 
 squadron, and the second was in readiness at Brest, waiting fpr 
 transports to convey the troops. 
 
 The two commanders were equally sensible of the necessity 
 ©f preserving entire harmony between the American and French 
 troops. Washington to produce unanimity of feeling, as well as 
 concert of action, directed his soldiers to wear with the conti- 
 nental cockade a white ribbon, that being the colour of the 
 French cockade. The services of La Fayette in maintaining a 
 good understanding between the two armies, were of the greatest 
 importance. Being a French subject,and an American general, 
 he was regarded as belonging equally to both nations, and all 
 delicate orders and commissions were intrusted to hirn to exe- 
 cute; which was always done with great circumspection and 
 fidelity. By the express direction of Washington, he informed 
 the French general of the low condition of the American army. 
 
 From various causes and unavoidable difficulties, the contem- 
 plated attack on New York was abandoned, and the year '80 
 glassed away without any military operations of any importance. 
 
4&t MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 Soon after the arrival of Fayette, he was appointed to the 
 .command of the light-infantry and dragoons, being the most 
 advantageous situation in the power of Washington to give him ; 
 but he performed no active or important military service during 
 that year; indeed the low condition of the American army, the 
 depreciation of the continental currency, the prostration of pub- 
 lic credit, and the want of spirit and activity among the people, 
 not only formed insuperable obstacles to any important military 
 operations, but were calculated to produce the most melancholy 
 reflections, in the mind of every true patriot. No one perhaps, 
 was more deeply affected with this depressed and gloomy as- 
 pect of affairs, than La Fayette. The state of the cause here, 
 but little accorded with the expectations which he had contrib- 
 uted to raise in France; and he had reason to fear that when 
 his countrymen arrived as allies to the Americans, they might 
 be so disappointed, that they would feel but little ardor to assist 
 those, who appeared to be doing so little to assist themselves. 
 He may also have apprehended, that from this depressed state of 
 the cause, his own honor might be impeached, and he be sub- 
 jected to the imputation of having deceived his sovereign and 
 his countrymen, as to the real condition of America. 
 
 It was under the influence of these alarming circumstances, 
 that, soon after his arrival at Morristown, the head-quarters of 
 the army, he wrote the following letter to Samuel Adams: 
 
 Morristotvn, May 30, 1780. 
 
 Dear Sir, — Had I known that I would have the pleasure of 
 meeting you at Boston, and holding confidential conversations 
 with you on public and private matters, I should have anticipa- 
 ted the uneasiness I was put under by the obligation of secrecy, 
 or previously obtained the leave of breaking that so strict laAV 
 in your favor. Now, my dear sir, that Congress have set my 
 tongue at liberty, at least for such men as Mr. Samuel Adams, 
 I will, in referring you to a public letter from the committee of 
 congress, indulge my private feelings in imparting to you some 
 confidential ideas of mine on our present situation. 
 
 As momentary visits did not entirely fulfil the purpose of free- 
 ing America, France thought they would render themselves 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. *9| 
 
 more useful, if a naval and land force were sent for, co-operating 
 with our troops, and by a longer stay on the coast of the conti- 
 nent, would give to the States a fair opportunity of employing 
 all their resources. The expectations are very sanguine at 
 Versailles, and ought to be more so, when that letter shall be 
 received, by which yon know Congress engaged to famish on 
 their pnrt five and twenty thousand continental troops, that are to take 
 the field by the beginning of the spring. 
 
 On the other hand, my dear sir, all Europe have their eyes 
 upon us: They know nothing of us, but by our own reports, 
 and our first exertions, which have heightened their esteem, and 
 by the accounts of the enemy, or those of some dissatisfied per- 
 sons, which were calculated to give them a quite different opin- 
 ion: so that, to fix their own minds, all the nations are now look- 
 ing at us; and the consequence of America, in the eyes of the 
 world, as well as its liberty and happiness, must depend upon 
 the ensuing campaign. 
 
 The succor sent by France, I thought to be very important 
 when at Versailles: now that I am on the spot, I know it was 
 necessary ; and if proper measures are taken, I shall more hear- 
 tily than ever enjoy the happiness I had of being somewhat con- 
 cerned in the operation. But if things stood as they now do, 
 I confess that whether as an American soldier, whether as a pri- 
 vate man that said a great deal, and knows Congress have or- 
 dered much more to be said on the future exertions of America 
 — who took a particular delight in praising the patriotic spirit 
 of the United States, I would feel most unhappy and distressed, 
 were I to tell the people that are coming over full of ardor and 
 sanguine hopes, that we have no army to co-operate with them, 
 no provisions to feed the few soldiers that are left, &c. But I 
 hope, my dear sir, it will not be the case; and more particularly 
 depending on the exertions of your slate, / know Mr. Samuel 
 Adams' influence and popularity will be, as heretofore,jemployed 
 in the salvation and glory of America. 
 
 If proper measures are taken for provisions, if the states do 
 immediately fill up the continental batiallions by good drafts, 
 which is by far^khe best way; if all the propositions of the com- 
 
46G MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 mittee are speedily complied with, I have no doubt, but that the 
 present campaign will be a glorious, decisive one, and that we 
 may hope for everything that is good: if, on the contrary, time 
 be lost, consider what unhappy and dishonorable consequences 
 would ensue from our inability to a co-operation. 
 
 Your state began the noble contest, it may be gloriously ended 
 by your state's exertions, and the example they will once more 
 set to the whole continent. The reception I met with at Boston, 
 binds me to it by the strongest tieS of a grateful affection. The 
 joy of my heart will be to find myself concerned in an expedi- 
 tion, that may afford peculiar advantages to them; and I earn- 
 estly hope it will be the case, in the course of this (if proper 
 measures are taken) glorious campaign. 
 
 I flatter myself you will be yet in Boston, and upon this ex- 
 pectation, I very much depend for the success of the combined 
 expeditions. Such a crisis is worth your being wholly engaged 
 in it, as it will be glorious, important, and, I may say it now, be- 
 cause necessary for the support of the great cause in which you 
 acted so early and decisive a part. What you mentioned con- 
 fidentially to me at Boston, I have duly noticed, and shall ever 
 remember with the attention of a friend. For fulfilling the same 
 purpose, I wish we may be under particular obligations to you 
 on this occasion. 
 
 Give me leave, my dear sir, to suggest to you an idea which I 
 have lately thought of: all the continental officers labor under 
 the most shameful want of clothing. When I say shameful, it 
 is not to them, who have no money to buy — no cloth to be 
 bought. You can conceive what may be theirs and our feelings-, 
 when they will be with the French general and other officers; 
 and from a general idea of mankind and human honor it is ea- 
 sily seen how much we should exert ourselves to pnt the officers 
 of the army in a more decent situation. 
 
 I beg, my dear sir, you will present my respects to your fam- 
 ily, and believe me most affectionatelv yours, 
 
 LA FAYETTE- 
 
 The following is the reply: 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 487 
 
 Boston, June, 1780. 
 
 My dear marquis — Yesterday, your very obliging letter of 
 the 30th May, was brought to me by Mons. Guinard. 
 
 The succor coming from France will be so seasonable and 
 important, that if America is not wanting to herself, she will 
 have it in her power, by the blessing of heaven, to gratify the 
 utmost of her wishes. His most Christian Majesty's expecta- 
 tions from us must needs be great; and gratitude to so generous 
 an ally, as well as a due attention to our own safety, interest and 
 honor, lay us under the strongest obligations to be in readiness 
 to co-operate with the greatest advantage. I have long been 
 fully sensible of your most cordial and zealous attachment to 
 our great cause ; and to your personal representation to his Ma- 
 jesty, in addition to the benevolence of his royal heart I will 
 take the liberty to attribute his design to afford us such aid and 
 for so long a time as may put it in our powetf to employ all our 
 resources against the enemy. 
 
 It fortunately happened that the General Assembly of this 
 state was sitting when the letter and enclosures from the com- 
 mittee of Congress came to the President of the Council. 
 They were immediately laid before the Assembly, and I have 
 'the pleasure to assure you that the filling our battalions by an 
 immediate draft, furnishing the army with provisions, and every 
 other measure for the fulfilling of the just expectations of your 
 sovereign and of Congress, on this most important occasion are 
 the objects of their closest attention. I had for several months 
 past been flattering myself with the prospect of this aid. It 
 strongly impressed my mind from one circumstance which took 
 place when you was at Philadelphia the last year. But far from 
 certainty, I could only express to some confidential friends here, 
 a distant hope, though as I conceived not without some good 
 effect: at least it seemed to enliven our spirits and animate its 
 for so great a crisis. 
 
 If it were possible for one to be forgetful of our all important; 
 cause for a moment, my particular friendship for you would be 
 a prevailing inducement with me, to make my utmost feeble ex- 
 ertions to prevent your disappointment after the great pains you 
 
*S8 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 have taken to serve us. I have endeavored, and shall continue 
 those endeavors while I stay here, to brighten the dark side ot* 
 the picture which your imagination has painted in one part of 
 your letter before me — God forbid that we should be obliged to 
 tell our friends when they arrive, that we have not a sufficient 
 army to co-opera e with them, nor provision to feed the few 
 soldiers that are left. I think I may venture to predict that this 
 state will comply with the requisition upon her to give the ut- 
 most respectability to our army on so promising an occasion. I 
 was in the Council Chamber when I received your letter, and 
 took the liberty to read some parts of it to the members present. 
 I will communicate other parts of it to some leading members 
 of the House of Representatives, as prudence may dictate, par- 
 ticularly what you mention of the officers' want of clothing. 
 
 I thank you, my dear sir, for the friendly remembrance you 
 had of the hint I gave you when you was here. Be pleased to 
 pay my most respectful compliments to the Commander-in-chief, 
 his family, &c. and be assured of the warm affection of youi 
 obliged friend and very humble servant, 
 
 SAMUEL ADAMS.' 
 
 Marquis de La Fayette. 
 
 The Legislature of Massachusetts soon after adopted a reso- 
 lution for raising four thousand men, to reinforce the continental 
 army, affording a bounty to those who might enlist, and subject- 
 ing those who might be drafted and should refuse to march, to a 
 fine; the select-men of the towns were required to furnish 
 clothing and travelling expenses. These patriotic measures 
 were occasioned by the pressing letter of La Fayette, together 
 with their own sense of the alarming necessity of the country. 
 
 General Arnold, the arch traitor, having distinguished himself 
 by his predatory incursion in Connecticut, marked with plunder, 
 robbery, murder, and every species of desolation, in the latter 
 part of the year '80, was sent on a similar depredatory expedi' 
 tion to Virginia. After committing devastations at Richmond, 
 Smithfield, and elsewhere, worthy of his character, he estab- 
 lished himself at Portsmouth. Gen>La Fayette, in December, 
 was sent at the head of an expedition, to oppose his desolating 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 489 
 
 progress. The meditated attack on Portsmouth, in which the 
 co-operation of the French squadron was relied upon, was aban- 
 doned in consequence of the result of a naval action, between 
 the French squadron and that of the enemy under Admiral 
 Arbuthnot. La Fayette returned to the head of Elk, where he 
 received the orders of Washington, to repair to Virginia, to 
 oppose General Phillips, who embarked at Portsmouth, with 
 3,000 troops, to attack Richmond.. La Fayette was greatly em- 
 barrassed and distressed; his army was not only greatly inferior 
 to the enemy, but was destitute of every thing? coats, shoes, and 
 but poorly supplied with provision. The soldiers were all bare- 
 foot, there was not one pair of shoes in the army ; and he had 
 no funds or means of supplying these pressing wants of his 
 troops. But such was the affection of the soldiers for their Gen- 
 eral, that they bore all their severe sufferings without a murmur. 
 He procured a loan of two thousand guineas on his private 
 credit in Baltimore, and supplied the most urgent wants of his 
 troops; and immediately proceeded, with the greatest despatch, 
 for Richmond, which he believed the first object of the enemy^ 
 incursion, and arrived the day before the British made their ap- 
 pearance, and thus saved the capital of Virginia, then the gen- 
 eral deposit of the military supplies of the state. The next 
 morning General Philips entered Manchester, directly opposite 
 Richmond ; but the Marquis had taken so strong a position, he 
 did not deem it advisable to hazard an attack, but soon moved 
 off. 
 
 At this period Virginia was invaded by Cornwallis, Phillips, 
 and Arnold, whose united forces were immensely superior not 
 only to those under the actual command of La Fayette, but to 
 any force he could reasonably expect to avail himself of. From 
 appearances, Virginia would be speedily overrun, and entirely 
 conquered: an event which would have been attended with the 
 most serious consequences: the conquest of Virginia would have 
 terminated all resistance in the southern states. Fully sensible 
 of this, La Fayette felt the difficulty and responsibility of his 
 situation; he had but 1,000 continentals, 2,000 militia, and 60 
 dragoons. General Phillips died soon after he left Richmond- 
 
 62 
 
i'.MJ MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 and his detachment being united with the troops of Cornwallis, 
 his lordship proceeded towards Petersburg. From the rein- 
 forcements he had received, his force amounted to 8,000 men ; 
 he felt the greatest assurance of success, and did not disguise his 
 contempt for his adversary. In some of his letters he observed, 
 "' The boy cannot possibly escape me." La Fayette, with the force 
 he had, was sensible he could do no more than watch the move- 
 ments of the enemy: he moved from Richmond to Chichahominy, 
 where he hoped to form a junction with General Wayne, who 
 had been ordered from the north to reinforce the army in Vir- 
 ginia. Cornwallis strained every nerAe to prevent this junction, 
 and to bring La Fayette to action before it could be effected, 
 pursued him with great rapidity. But he found " the boy" a 
 match for himself; was foiled in all his attempts, Fayette having 
 succeeded in uniting his forces with those of General Wayne, 
 at Raccoon Ford, without any loss. Cornwallis, by a hasty 
 movement, threw himself between the American army and the 
 public magazines, with the view to cut off the communications 
 between them; but Fayette, by opening an old road which was 
 disused, and forced marches, passed the British army, and to the 
 astonishment of Cornwallis, secured a strong position between 
 his troops and the American magazines, at Albemarle court- 
 house. Having failed in all his plans, the British General re- 
 turned to Richmond, and from thence to Williamsburg, whither 
 he was followed by the Marquis. Here he received orders for 
 a part of his forces to return to New York, Henry Clinton be- 
 ing apprehensive of an attack from the combined armies of 
 America and France. Cornwallis attempted to deceive Fay- 
 ette by a stratagem, and draw him into an engagement; he 
 knew the American general would attack his rear guard, when 
 his main army was passing the ford to the Island of Jamestown: 
 he accordingly made such dispositions as were calculated to lead 
 General La Eayette to suppose that the principal part of his 
 army had crossed, when he had detained them, expecting that 
 from this deception, Fayette would attack him. The stratagem, 
 however, did not deceive La Fayette, but General Wayne* 
 who had been detached to reconnoitre the enemy's position, sup- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 491 
 
 posing that the rear guard of the enemy only remained, from 
 slight skirmishing, soon found himself engaged with the whole 
 British line. La Fayette proceeded himself to reconnoitre the 
 enemy, and discovering the stratagem, he immediately ordered 
 Wayne to retreat, and the British general suspecting an am- 
 buscade, did not pursue. Thus by the circumspection and cau- 
 tion of La Fayette, this artful scheme of Cornwallis was defeated, 
 and the troops under General Wayne rescued from the most im- 
 minent danger. 
 
 The gallantry of Wayne, and his detachment, was acknowl- 
 edged by La Fayette in the general orders issued the 8th of July. 
 "The general is happy to acknowledge the spirit of the detach- 
 ment under Gen. Wayne, in their engagement with the whole of 
 the British army, of which he was an eye witness. He requests 
 General Wayne, and the officers and men under his command, 
 to accept his best thanks. The bravery and destructive fire 
 of the riflemen rendered essential service, and the fire of the 
 lie;ht-infantry checked the enemy's progress round our right 
 flank. The general was much pleased with the conduct of 
 Captain Savage, of the artillery, and is satisfied that nothing 
 but the loss of horses occasioned that of the two field pieces. 
 The zeal of Col. Mercer's corps, is fully expressed in the num- 
 ber of horses he had killed." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Cornwallis encamps at Yorktown, and is followed by La Fayette to Williams- • 
 burgh — is reinforced by the allied troops disembarked from the French fleet 
 — Siege of Yorktown — Activity of La Fayette- he storms a redoubt — ca- 
 pitulation of Cornwallis, who proposes to surrender his sword to La Fayette 
 — He repairs to Philadelphia, and signifies to Congress his desire of return- 
 ing to France — resolution of Congress and his reply — he embarks — Great 
 respect shown him in France — makes a tour in Germany — visits Frederick 
 the Great — and is present at his Grand Review — After his return, exerts him- 
 self to have France send further succors to the United States — proceeds to 
 Cadiz to accompany Count D'Estaing, with a large fleet, to America, which 
 stopped by peace — Visits the United States in 1784 — respect shown him in 
 various places — visits Mount Vernon— honour shown him by Congress, on 
 bis taking leave of the country. 
 
 A combined attack on New Vork had been mnrHvrd in tlie 
 
492 MARQUtS DE LA FAYETTE 
 
 spring, immediately after the arrival of the French and niatu 
 red a 1 Harford and Wethersfield, in Connecticut; Generai 
 Washington, the Count de Rochamheau, La Fayette, and a great 
 number of American officers having spent some time in Connec 
 ticut on this business. Fortunately this object was given up, 
 and the combined armies agreed to direct their united forces 
 against the British army in Virginia. This wits so managed as 
 to deceive Sir Henry Clinton with appearances of an attack on 
 New York, and thus prevent him from reinforcing Cornwallis. 
 Oo the 30th of August, at Chester, on their march to the south, 
 Washington and R •chambeau received the # agreeable intelli- 
 gence of the arrival of Admiral De Grasse in the Chesapeake 
 with a squadron of twenty-four ships of the line. Immediately 
 3,000 French troops were disembarked, commanded b} the 
 Marquis de St. Simon, and soon formed a junction with the 
 American army under La Fayette. Cornwallis at this time was 
 encamped at Yorktown, where he had collected all his forces, 
 and he had been followed to Williamsburg by La Fayette, who, 
 although unable to engage the enemy, pursued him wherever 
 he went, and checked his designs. The arrival of the French 
 squadron, and the large reinforcement he received, rilled the 
 heart of La Fayette with joy, and inspired him with hopes oi 
 a glorious campaign. 
 
 On the arrival of Washington and Count de Rochambeau, 
 they went on board Count de Grasse's flag ship, to determine 
 on future operations, which was followed by the movement of 
 the combined army upon York and Gloucester, and at the same 
 time the fleet moved up to the mouth of James River, having 
 just been reinforced by eight ships of the line, under Count de 
 Barras, from Rhode-Island. 
 
 The seige of Yorktown was thus commenced, which reflected 
 such lustre on the gallantry and spirit of the combined armies, 
 and terminated the most glorious revolution in the history of the 
 human race. 
 
 Having formed his first parallel, Washington commenced the 
 second, with great activity, on the 1 1 th of September. Alarmed 
 at the despatch of the beseigers, Cornwallis opened all hie 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 493 
 
 batteries to stop their progress. His fire from two redoubts was" 
 particularly annoying, and Washington determined to carry 
 them. To excite emulation, and avoid all cause of jealousy, 
 the attack of one was committed to the French, under Baron de 
 Viominel, and the other to a detachment of Americans under 
 La Fayette, who led them to the assault in person. This attack 
 was made with such vigour and spirit that the assailants, without 
 firing a gun, forced their way over the abattis and palisades, into 
 the redoubt, and made the whole party, consisting of sixty men 
 under Major Campbell, prisoners, with the loss of only nine men 
 killed and thirty-two wounded. The detachment had been 
 reminded of the massacre of the garrison at fort Griswold, at 
 New-London ; but La Fayette, Hamilton and Laurens possessed 
 too much humanity to imitate deeds of ruthlessness and bar- 
 barity, or to take the lives of men who begged for quarters, 
 even by way of retaliation. The assault on the other redoubt 
 was equally successful, although not without considerable loss 
 on the part of the French, the enemy being much more numerous, 
 and their defence consequently more persevering and obstinate. 
 The French lost tOO killed and wounded; about half of the 
 enemy escaped, and the other fell into the hands of the assailants. 
 The coolness and gallantry displayed by both parties, excited 
 the applause of the commander-in-chief; he expressed to La 
 Fayette and de Viominel the high sense he had of their intrepid 
 and able conduct, and desired them to convey his acknowledge- 
 ments to their respective detachments. In his orders he observes, 
 " The general reflects with the highest degree of pleasure, on 
 the confidence which the troops of the two nations must have in 
 each other. Assured of mutual support, he is convinced there 
 is no danger which they will not cheerfully encounter, no diffi- 
 culty which they will not bravely overcome." 
 
 As the last effort, Cornwallis having attempted to escape by 
 passing in the night his whole army over on to Gloucester 
 Point, and being frustrated by a storm, finding that even the 
 elements seemed to have conspired against him, the proud spirit 
 of his lordship was obliged to yield to a destiny which he could 
 no longer control. 
 
404 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 On the 19th of Ociober, '81, just four years from the conveiu, 
 tion of Saratoga, a second British army of more than seven 
 thousand men, was surrendered to the allied forces of France 
 and America. Such was the fate of an army, whose career had 
 long been successful, proud and triumphant; which had spread 
 terror and devastation over a vast extent of country; that at 
 one period had nearly conquered all the southern states, and 
 w r hose path was traced by ruin, desolation and blood. 
 
 In this memorable seige, La Fayette wa« particularly active 
 and serviceable, and was one of the officers who were honorably 
 noticed by the commander-in-chief, as having distinguished 
 themselves by their intrepid and heroic conduct. In the 
 universal joy which this great event occasioned, throughout the 
 United States, no one, perhaps, rejoiced more sincerely than 
 this youthful patriot and hero, this early and steadfast friend of 
 America. He received the thanks, not only of Washington, but 
 of Congress, for his gallant and heroic conduct; and the State 
 of Virginia, afterward presented him with a bust, for his servi- 
 ces in defence of that State, against the incursions and ravages 
 of a lawless enemy. His merit was also acknowledged by the 
 enemy, as Lord Cornwallis was particularly desirous of treating 
 with La Fayette alone, and surrendering his sword into his 
 hands ; but the modesty of the youthful hero declined an honour 
 wnich he considered belonged to another. 
 
 In November the Marquis repaired to Philadelphia, where he 
 was received with the warmest manifestations of gratitude and 
 eclat. He soon signified to the Congress his desire of returning 
 again to France; on which occasion, the resolution adopted by 
 that body, is too honorable a testimony of his merits and of the 
 unlimited confidence reposed in him by Congress, to be omitted 
 in a memoir of his life. 
 
 In Congress, November, 1781. 
 Resolved, That Major General La Fayette have permission 
 to go to France, and to return at such time as may be most 
 agreeable to himself — that he be informed, that, on a view of 
 his conduct throughout the past campaign, and particularly 
 during the period in which he had the chief command in Vir- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 4^5 
 
 ginia, the many new proofs which present themselves of his 
 zealous attachment to the cause he has espoused, and of his 
 judgment, vigilance, gallantry, and address in its defence, have 
 greatly added to the high opinion entertained by Congress of 
 his merits and military talents — that he make known to the 
 officers and troops whom he commanded during that period, 
 that the brave and enterprising services, with which they secon- 
 ded his zeal and efforts, and which enabled him to defeat the 
 attempts of an enemy, far superior in numbers, have been beheld 
 by Congress with particular satisfaction and approbation. That 
 the secretary of foreign affairs acquaint the Ministers Plenipo- 
 tentiaries of the United States, that it is the desire of Congress 
 that they confer with the Marquis La Fayette, and avail of his 
 information, relative to the situation of public affairs in the 
 United States. That the secretary for foreign affairs, further 
 acquaint the Minister Plenipotentiary at the court of Versailles, 
 that he will conform to the intention of Congress, by consulting 
 with, and employing the assistance of the Marquis La Fayette, 
 in accelerating the supplies which may be afforded by his most 
 Christian Majesty for the United States. That the superinten- 
 dent of finance, the secretary for foreign affairs and the board 
 of war, make such communications to the Marquis, touching the 
 affairs of their respective departments, as will best enable him 
 to fulfil the purpose of the preceding resolutions. That the su- 
 perintendent of finance, take order for discharging the engage- 
 ments entered into by the Marquis La Fayette, with the mer- 
 chants of Baltimore, when he borrowed money of them on his 
 own credit, to supply our troops with necessaries.'' 
 
 At the same time, Congress ordered that a conveyance be 
 provided for General La Fayette, in a public vessel, whenever 
 he should choose to embark; and voted to send a letter by him 
 to the king of France. 
 
 The following is the reply of the Marquis to the President of 
 Congress, who forwarded him the resolves: 
 
 "Sir — I have been honored with tho resolutions which Con- 
 gress have been pleased to pass in my favor. Testimonies of 
 their esteem and their confidence that are so very flattering to 
 
496 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 mc, could not but excite those exalted sentiments of gratitude 
 which I am unable sufficiently to express. My attachment to 
 America, the sense of my obligations, and the new favors con- 
 ferred upon me, are so many everlasting ties that devote me 
 to her. At all times, and in every part of the world, my heart 
 will be panting for opportunities to be employed in her service. 
 With unspeakable pleasure I shall transmit the resolve of Con- 
 gress to the brave and virtuous troops, whom it has been my 
 happiness to command. 
 
 I have the honor to be, &c. 
 
 LA FAYETTE. 
 
 The foregoing resolution of Congress he transmitted to the 
 troops, lately under his command; in doing which he remarks: 
 "In the moment the major-general leaves this place, he wishes 
 once more to express his gratitude to the brave corps of light- 
 infantry, who, for nine months past, have been the companions 
 of his fortunes. He can never forget, that, with them alone, 
 of regular troops, he had the good fortune to manoeuvre before 
 an army, which, after all its reductions, was still six times 
 more numerous than the regular force he had under command." 
 
 It being evident that the American revolutionary struggle 
 was drawing to a close, in December, '81, he embarked the sec- 
 ond time for France, leaving the grateful homage of one 
 country, to receive the admiration and applause of another. 
 
 On his arrival in France, he was received with that enthusi- 
 astic manifestation of respect and applause, which his achieve- 
 ments and fame were calculated to inspire. His chivalrous he- 
 roism, and ardent attachment to liberty, were not more conspic- 
 uous than his modesty, a trait for which his countrymen are not 
 very distinguished ; yet, nevertheless, in so young a man, it in- 
 creased his reputation, even with Frenchmen. Having related 
 to the king a long account of the events and progress of the 
 American war, without having said one word about himself, his 
 majesty could not forbear to remark: "But pray sir, where were 
 you all this time?" 
 
 He remained six weeks in Paris, dering which time, having 
 received continually the most distinguished honors and atten 
 
Marquis de la fayette. 49? 
 
 tion from all classes, from the king to the street-porter, from the 
 inhabitants of " gorgeous palaces" to the wretched i invites of 
 garrets a id cellars, he became surfeited with applause, and 
 anxious to realize tiie more quiet and substantial enjoyments 
 which he could find only in the bosom of his family. 
 
 Li the universal respect, shown to the youthful hero of Amer- 
 ica, M idame La Fayette came in for a share. At a large as- 
 ' semuly,at the Duke Choisuel's, Voltaire publicly complimented 
 her on the patriotic virtues of her husband. Louis was so sat- 
 isfied with the conduct of the Marquis in America, that he be- 
 stowed on him many favors; and the queen was so delighted 
 with him that she presented iiim with her miniature. 
 
 His journey from Paris to his estates in Lorraine, with his 
 wife and son George, then three years of age, was one con- 
 tinued triumph, notwithstanding his intention, and the precau- 
 tions he made use of, to have it entirely private. Every where 
 bells were rung, processions formed, and crowds assembled 
 around him, crying "long live La Fayette!" At the city of 
 Orleans he was detained nearly a week, by the festivities pre- 
 prepared for him. 
 
 In the year '82, he made a tour to Germany, and visited many 
 of the German princes, all of whom received him with atten- 
 tion; but his more particular object was to see Frederick the 
 Great, whose character had long attracted general attention in 
 Europe. He was present at Pottsdam, during the grand re- 
 view, when 50,000 men were assembled under the immediate 
 command of the king. During three days, various evolutions 
 of battles, sieges and assaults, were gone through with, and un- 
 der the eye and direction of the Great Frederick, mounted on bis 
 white charger,with his little three-cornered cocked bat,histhread 
 bare blue jacket, and his opera glass in his hand. This was a 
 grand, and highly interesting exhibition; the "tented field," 
 formed by their encampment, resembled an immense city. 
 These reviews took place every autumn, and attracted numer- 
 ous strangers, and foreigners of distinction. It is on these oc- 
 casions, that all promotions, rewards, punishments, and discipli* 
 63 
 
498 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 narv regulations, were published, by being three times read at 
 the head of eacii company. 
 
 Frederick was no sooner informed that La Fayette was pres- 
 ent, than he despatched an aid-de-camp to invite him to the 
 palace of Sans Souci. In a long audience which he had with 
 Frederick, the latter, after complimenting La Fayette, ex- 
 pressed his admiration of Washington, and presenting his min- 
 iature, set in diamonds, to La Fayette, he observed, "that since i 
 he must be separated from the general, he hoped this little me- 
 mento would sometimes recall him <o recollection." 
 
 The respect manifested by Frederick, considering his despotic 
 principles and severe character, for Washington and La Fay- 
 ette, the two great champions of liberty, is creditable to him. 
 and could only have proceeded from the admiration which true 
 greatness always shows to genius and distinguished talent, 
 wherever they may be found. 
 
 La Fayette, in his travels and observations of the affairs of 
 Europe, did not for a moment lose sight of the interests of 
 America; and early in the year '83, after his return to France, 
 from his tour, manifested great anxiety to have the treaty of 
 peace between Great Britain and America and France, dcii 
 nitely ratified, the preliminaries of which had been entered into 
 the preceding year. He apprehended that the Court of St. 
 James did not intend to ratify the treaty, and urged on the 
 French government the propriety of affording additional assist- 
 ance to America, as a means of inducing Britain to conclude 
 the treaty. Accordingly La Fayette was permitted to return 
 to America once more, and orders were given to Count D'Es- 
 taing to hold himself in readiness to proceed from Cadiz, with 
 his fleet and troops on board, to the United States, as soon as 
 La Fayette might join him. But the treaty being ratified, the 
 expedition was, of course abandoned. He went to Cadiz, 
 where, he found forty-nine ships and twenty thousand men ready 
 to follow him, and which would have been in America early in 
 the spring, had not peace been concluded. He communicated 
 the first intelligence of this event to Congress, by a letter dated 
 Cadiz, February 5, 1785T. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 49!) 
 
 The great object of the war being obtained, the independ- 
 ence and freedom of the United States of America acknowledged 
 and established, those who had been the compatriots and asso- 
 ciates in arms in the United States with La Fayette, in this great 
 and glorious cause, were very anxious of embracing him once 
 more on that soil, now no longer marked with the traces of op- 
 pression, which had been the theatre of their united toils, suf- 
 ferings and triumphs. La Fayette was not less desirous to re- 
 visit a country that he had found oppressed, and struggling for 
 its rights, and which he had contributed to render independent, 
 sovereign and free. The pressing invitation of Washington, and 
 many other friends, was accordingly accepted, and, having ar- 
 ranged his affairs, in July, 'S4, he embarked from Havre for 
 America the third time. 
 
 There are few, if any, examples in history, of an individual 
 who has assisted, by his services, his fortune and his blood, to 
 secure the independence, liberty and peace of a foreign and dis- 
 tant people, revisiting the same people, on their pressing solici- 
 tations, as the "guest of the nation," to witness the fruits of his 
 labors, the blessings of peace and freedom, and receive the 
 gratitude and homage of millions, in the enjoyment of these 
 blessings. This distinguished honor and distinguished felicity, 
 La Fayette has twice enjoyed. 
 
 He arrived at New York, after a passage of thirty-four days, 
 on the fourth of August, 1734. The knowledge of his arrival 
 was communicated with rapidity, and he immediately was sur- 
 rounded by the officers and citizens, who welcomed his return, 
 and offered to him their congratulations. The day following 
 his arrival, a public entertainment was given him, at which all 
 the officers appeared in their "continentals," both uniforms 
 and accoutrements, which served to produce a more fraternal 
 feeling among the co-patriots and fellow-officers of the late ar- 
 duous struggle, now so successfully and gloriously terminated. 
 From New York he proceeded to Philadelphia, where he was 
 met by the officers of the army and a vast concourse of citizens, 
 and escorted to the house of the governor. In the evening an 
 
500 MAKQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 universal illumination took place; there was not a single house 
 in the city but what was illuminated. On his present visit, also, 
 this city honored La Fayette with an illumination, more univer- 
 sal and splendid than any thing of the kind which had been wit- 
 nessed any where else. The next day he was waited on by 
 Generals St. Clair, Wayne, and Irwine, as a committee in be- 
 half of the citizens; and the legislature being in session, ap- 
 pointed a deputation, consisting of one member from a county, 
 who addressed him in their own name and that of their consti- 
 tuents; they also incorporated a county in the western section of 
 the s<ate, by the name of La Fayette. 
 
 From Philadelphia he repaired to Baltimore, and from thence 
 hastily to Mount Vernon, to see and embrace his beloved Wash- 
 ington, now no longer the head of the American armies, and 
 the master-spirit of the revolution, but a private citizen, living 
 in retirement on his plantation. It would be in vain to attempt 
 to describe the interview between these two illustrious indivi- 
 duals. Born in different hemispheres, and apparently to differ- 
 ent fortunes and different ends, they had nevertheless become 
 united by the strongest ties of affection, principle and sympathy,, 
 and by their common toils and suffering* in the same cause, and 
 that cause so sacred in itself, so dear to the hearts of both, and 
 so gloriously successful, guaranteeing the blessings of peace and 
 liberty to a nation, and establishing the fame of all who had 
 acted a distinguished part in it, — an interview between two such 
 individuals, under such circumstances, after an absence of nearly 
 two years, which had served to give maturity to the fruits of 
 their exertions, and increase their mutual affection — as it is 
 •without example, so it scarcely belongs to this earth ; it is rather 
 like an interview between superior beings, rejoicing at the hap* 
 piness they had conferred upon mortals. 
 
 La Fayette remained at Mount "Vernon twelve days, when 
 he returned to Baltimore, and, after a short stay, he went on to 
 New York, and proceeded eastward to Boston, passing through 
 the principal towns in the route, and was every where received 
 with the most hearty welcome and the most lively demonstra 
 tions of grateful hearts. On approaching Boston, he was met 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 501 
 
 at Watertown by the whole body of the late army, addressed in 
 their behalf by his personal friend, General Knox. The legis ; 
 lature being in session, a resolve was immediately adopted, in- 
 viting him to meet the members of the two houses in the senate- 
 room, where he was addressed by the governor in terms of res* 
 pect and affection. He went east as far as Maine, and having 
 visited the considerable towns, he returned to Boston, where he 
 embarked for the Chesapeake. He made a second visit to 
 Mount Vernon, and pass through the principal towns on the 
 way. On his return, Washington came with him to Annapolis, 
 where took an affectionate, and (hen thought, as it proved to be, 
 a final farewell of Washington and numerous friends, and re- 
 ceived the last benedictions of his illustrious friend and adopted 
 parent. 
 
 Before leaving the United States, he deemed it proper to take 
 respectful leave of Congress, then in session at Trenton, where 
 he arrived on the 8th of December. La Fayette having ad- 
 dressed a note to Congress, signifying his intention, a committee 
 was appointed, consisting of one from a state, to give greater 
 dignity to the proceeding, to receive and take leave of the Mar- 
 quis in the name of Congress, and the nation, and to assure him 
 that congress continued to entertain the same high sense of his 
 Zealand services to promote the welfare of the United States, 
 both here and in Europe, which they had frequently manifested 
 on former occasions. The committee received the guest of the 
 nation in congress hall, and communicated to him the resolve of 
 of that body, to which the Marquis made the following dignified 
 and affectionate reply: — 
 
 " While it pleases the Congress of the United States so kindly 
 to receive me, 1 want words to express the feelings of a hearty 
 which delights in their present situation, and in the public marks 
 of their esteem. 
 
 " Since I joined the standard of liberty, to this wished-for 
 hour of my personal congratulations, I have seen such glorious 
 deeds performed and virtues displayed, by the sons of America 
 that in the instant of my first concern for them, I had anticipated 
 but a part of the love and regard which devote me to this rising 
 empire. 
 
i02 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 "During our revolution, I obtained an unlimited, indulgent 
 confidence, which I am equally proud and happy to acknowl- 
 edge: it dates with the time, when an inexperienced youth, I 
 could only claim my respccied friend's paternal adoption. It 
 has been most benevolently continued throughout every circum- 
 stance of the cabinet and the field; and in personal friendship 
 I have often found a support against public difficulties. While 
 on this solemn occasion, I mention my obligations to Congress, 
 the stales, and the people at large, permit me to remember my 
 dear military companions, to whose services their country is so 
 much indebted. 
 
 " Having felt both for the timely aid of my country, and for 
 the part she, with a beloved king, acted in the cause of mankind, 
 I enjoy an alliance so well rivetted by mutual affection, by inte- 
 rest and even local situation. Recollection ensures it. Futurity 
 does but enlarge the prospect; and the private intercourse wiil 
 every day increase, which independent and advantageous trade 
 cherishes in proportion as it is justly understood. 
 
 " In unbounded wishes to America, I am happy to observe the 
 prevailing disposition of the people to strengthen the confede- 
 ration, preserve public faith, regulate trade; and in a proper 
 guard over continental magazines and frontier posts, in a gene- 
 ral system of militia, in foreseeing attention to the navy, to ensure 
 every kind of safety. May this immense temple of freedom 
 ever stand a lesson to oppressors, an example to the oppressed, a 
 sanctuary for the rights of mankind! And may these happy 
 United States attain that complete splendour and prosperity, 
 which will illustrate the blessings of their government, and for 
 ages to come, rejoice the departed souls of its founders. 
 
 " However unwilling to trespass on your time, I must yet pre- 
 sent you with my grateful thanks for the late favours of Congress; 
 and never can they oblige me so much, as when they put it in 
 my power, in every part of the world, and to the latest day of 
 my life, to gratify the attachment which will ever rank me among 
 the most zealous and respectful servants of the United States." 
 
 Congress at the same time also resolved, that the president of 
 their body, address a letter to the King of France, expressive of 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 503 
 
 the high sense which the United States entertain of the talents 
 and meritorious services of the Marquis de La Fayette, and 
 recommending him to the particular favor and patronage of his 
 Majesty. 
 
 La Fayette went from Trenton to New York, where in a few- 
 days lie embarked for France, in a frigate that was waiting for 
 him. On his departure he was honoured by the waving stan- 
 dards of the United States from the forts, and by the discharge, 
 of thirteen cannon, announcing the number of states which 
 regretted his departure, and whose best wishes he carried with 
 him. During this visit many of the states passed acts conferring 
 the right of citizenship on La Fayette, and his male descendants 
 for ever. 
 
 At the time, this separation between La Fayette and America, 
 must have been believed, both by himself and his friends here, 
 to be the last; and however lively an interest he might be sup- 
 posed to continue to feel for her welfare, it could hardly have 
 been expected that he would again revisit a country which had 
 been the theatre of his early achievements, of his brightest glory ; 
 which was still the dearest object of his attachments and hopes, 
 and which contained so many of his dearest and most venerated 
 friends. In leaving the shores of the United States, under such 
 circumstances, his feelings must have been deeply affected ; and 
 likewise those of the numerous friends he left behind. To most 
 of the latter, the parting was forever on earth; but the -life of 
 this illustrious man, has been spared, through all the vicissitudes 
 which he has since passed, that whilst he was on the confines of 
 the earth and about to leave it, for another and better world, 
 after the lapse of nearly half a century, he should be permitted, 
 like a departed spirit returning to the earth, to revisit this 
 favoured land of promise, and witness the countless blessings 
 enjoyed by a numerous and grateful people, flowing from 
 independence, peace, free institutions, and well-regulated social 
 order, the holy and imperishable fruits of the blood and toils of 
 the heroes and patriots of a glorious revolution, of whom he is 
 one of the chief, and almost the only survivor. * This is a felicity 
 which no mortal has ever before enjoyed ; it was reserved for 
 La Fayette, the first of patriots and philanthropists. 
 
( 504 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 vitcrhis arrival in France, he engages in various philanthropic object?. Virginia 
 places his bust in the capitol of that state, and one at Pari? — He again vi-its 
 Germany — Is a member of the Assembly of Notables — proposes various re- 
 forms — Is elected a member of the States-General— proposes a bill of ritrhts— 
 procurcs a decree for the accountability of ministers — Fall of the Bastile- - 
 Is appointed to command the National Guards — Exerts himself to complete 
 the constitution — Saves the Royal family at Versailles. — He commands the 
 National Guards at the ceremony of Champ de Mars — Swears to the consti- 
 tution in the name of the nation — Coalition against P'rance — He is appoint- 
 ed to command one of the armies — Military operations — Isdenounced by the 
 Jacobin faction — He addresses a letter to the Assembly — appears before 
 their bar. 
 
 General La Fayette, is one of the few individuals, who 
 during a long and eventful life, abounding in vicissitudes and 
 trials, has maintained the most scrupulous consistency of conduct 
 and integrity of principle. The happiness of his fellow crea- 
 tures seems to have been the leading object of all his actions, 
 and we always find him engaged in acts of private beneficence 
 or public utility: he has always been on the side of truth, justice, 
 and liberty. Soon after his return to France he is found taking 
 a strong interest in the affairs of the Batavian patriots, and uni- 
 ting his influence and exertions with those of the celebrated 
 philosopher Maleschcrbes, in the cause of the French protes- 
 tants; while at the same time, he joined a society whose object 
 was, the gradual emancipation of the blacks held in slavery, 
 particularly in the French colonics. In this last philanthropic 
 and benevolent scheme, he spent much time and money, and it 
 is believed that his exertions and those of his associates would 
 have done much towards meliorating the condition of the unfor- 
 tunate Africans, had they not been arrested by the rapid devel- 
 opement of the first scenes in the great drama of the French 
 revolution. 
 
 In the year '86, Virginia, in consideration of his services 
 rendered to that state, by an act of the assembly, directed the 
 bust of La Fayette to be placed in the capitol of the state; and 
 at the same time authorised Mr. Jefferson, then the American 
 minister at Paris, to cause the like statute to be placed in the, 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 505 
 
 metropolis of France, with the consent of the municipal authority 
 of the city. In his letter to the municipality of Paris, Mr. Jef- 
 ferson, says,—" The Legislature of the state of Virginia, in 
 consideration of the services of Major Gen. the Marquis de 
 La Fayette, has resolved to place his bust in their capitol. This 
 intention of erecting a monument to his virtues, and to the senti- 
 ments with which he has inspired them, in the country to which 
 they are indebted for his birth, has induced a hope that the city 
 of Paris would consent to become the depository of a second 
 proof of their gratitude. Charged by the state with the exe- 
 cution of this resolution, I have the honor to solicit the Prevots 
 des Marchands and municipality of Paris to accept the bust of 
 this brave officer, and give it a situation where it may continually 
 awaken the admiration, and witness the respect of the allies of 
 France." 
 
 The proposition, meeting with the decided approbation of the 
 local authorities, and of the king to whom it was submitted, the 
 bust of La Fayette, executed by the order of Mr. Jefferson, 
 by Mr. Houden, wasp aced in one of the galleries of the city 
 hall, with great ceremony, an eloquent address having been de- 
 livered on the occasiori, by the attorney-general, in which he 
 sketched in the most impressive manner, the important services 
 of La Fayette in North America, the confidence the nation 
 reposed in him, and the unbounded affection of the people 
 for him. 
 
 In the year '86, La Fayette made a tour through various 
 parts of Germany, and visited the courts of Vienna and Berlin. 
 But whilst extending his knowledge by acquainting himself with 
 Xbe affairs of other nations, the deep interest he felt in the wel- 
 fare of America, was not in any degree impaired or diminished, 
 and during his travels, he was distressed and alarmed at the 
 intelligence he received of the disorders which prevailed in the 
 United States, the discords and disaffection of the people, the 
 low state of public credit, the disregard of the authority of 
 congress, and the crude political notions and general spirit of 
 insubordination which every where prevailed ; and which in one 
 state had led to actual insurrection. Deeply impressed with 
 
 64 
 
5P6 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 these alarming circumstances relating to his beloved America, 
 he addressed to Washington a letter, filled with noble and patri- 
 otic sentiments, and which shows the anxiety that he still 
 continued to feel in common with all real patriots here, for the 
 welfare and prosperity of the United States then placed in the 
 most critical condition. 
 
 " About this time," says Marshall, " Gen. Washington recei- 
 ved along and affectionate letter from the Marquis deLa Fayette, 
 who had just returned from a tour through the north of Europe. 
 In communicating the occurrences at the courts he had visited, 
 and especially at that of Prussia, whose aged and distinguished 
 monarch, uniting the acquirements of the scholar with the most 
 profound skill in the art of war, could bestow either literary or 
 military fame, he dwelt with enthusiasm on the plaudits which 
 were universally bestowed on his military patron and paternal 
 friend. " I wish" he added, " the other sentiments I have had 
 occasion to discover with respect to America, were equally sat- 
 isfactory with those that are personal to yourself. I need not 
 say that the spirit, the firmnesss, with which the revolution was 
 conducted, has excited universal admiration. That every friend 
 to the rights of mankind is an enthusiast for the principles on 
 which those constitutions are built: but I have often liad the 
 mortification to hear that the want of powers in congress, of 
 union between the states, of energy in their government, would 
 make the confederation very insignificant. By their conduct in 
 the revolution," he added " the citizens of America have com- 
 manded the respect of the world ; but it grieves me to think 
 they will in a measure lose it, unless they strengthen the confed- 
 eration, give congress power to regulate their trade, pay offtheir 
 debt, or at least the interest of it, establish a well regulated 
 militia, and in a word, complete all those measures which you 
 have recommended to them. 
 
 " Unhappily for us," said the general in reply, " though the 
 reports you mention are greatly exaggerated, our conduct has 
 laid the foundation for them. It is one of the evils of demo- 
 cratic governments, that the people not always seeing, and fre- 
 quently misled, must often feel before they act right. But evils- 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 50^ 
 
 of this nature seldom fail to work their own cure. It is to be 
 lamented nevertheless, that the remedies are so slow, and that 
 those who wish to apply them seasonably, are not attended to 
 before they suffer in person, in interest, and reputation. I am 
 not without hopes that matters will soon take a favourable turn 
 in the federal constitution. The discerning part of the commu- 
 nity have long since seen the necessity of giving adequate 
 powers to Congress for national purposes, and those of a different 
 description must yield to it ere long." 
 
 Hitherto the career of the Marquis de La Fayette had been 
 uniformly successful and glorious; his advance in the path of 
 honor and military fame, and in aiding the cause of liberty, had 
 been smooth, dignified, and without interruption ; his popularity, 
 like a placid but magnificent stream, increased in volume and 
 force as it flowed smoothly along, occasionally ruffled by the 
 winds, but never torn by cataracts or agitated by the rage of the 
 elements. But the time had now arrived that he was no longer 
 to enjoy a clear horizon and serene sky, without interruption; 
 the smooth current of his popularity is exposed to be agitated 
 and broken by the rage of the most tremendous storms, and all 
 the maddening fury of the elements. 
 
 To have been the successful hero and patriot of two revolutions, 
 would have been a more glorious destiny than belonged to any 
 mortal; there is no such example in the history of mankind; it 
 was not therefore reserved for La Fayette. He had acquired 
 sufficient glory, and rendered sufficient service to his fellow mor- 
 tals by the part he had acted in the American Revolution; this 
 will render his name as immortal as that of the country whose 
 independence and liberty he contributed to establish, and as 
 venerated as those of the illustrious individuals with which it is 
 associated. 
 
 He was designed to act a part equally, and indeed much more 
 conspicuous in the political revolution in France, than he had in 
 America ; but with much less success or glory ; not, however, from 
 any fault of his. He contributed as much, perhaps more than 
 any other individual, to give an impetus to the ball of the rcvov 
 Htion % but having got in motion, it was no longer in his power to 
 
508 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 stop it, or even to regulate its course. If we look back to the 
 influence he had on the part taken by France in the American 
 struggle, it cannot be doubted that he is entitled to the honor of 
 having contributed directly and indirectly, much more towards 
 producing the first movement in favor of a political reform in 
 France, than any other individual. The struggle between the 
 United States and Great Britain, and the part taken in it by 
 France, is undoubtedly the principal cause of the dreadful revo- 
 lution which soon followed in that kingdom. It added greatly to 
 the public debt,and completely deranged the already embarrassed 
 finances of the nation. The American contest was professedly 
 a war for liberty; it led to an examination and discussion, both in 
 the United States and in England, of the first principles of go- 
 vernment, of the rights of man, and of the origin and nature of 
 monarchy; and these discussions were generally republished in 
 France, and from a national bias, the people approved of the 
 American side of the argument. The French officers and sol- 
 diers who had been engaged in the American war, in some mea- 
 sure had the spirit of the revolution infused into their minds. 
 Being engaged in the same cause with the Americans, they 
 imbibed the same feelings, and in no small degree adopted the 
 same principles. It was natural, therefore, for those who had 
 fought for liberty abroad, to look into the political state of their 
 own nation; and it was a painful reflection to all who had con- 
 tributed to establish the independence and freedom of America, 
 to perceive the oppressed and degraded condition of their own 
 country. 
 
 In the commencement and early part of the revolution, the 
 American hero and patriot, acted a most distinguished and influ- 
 ential part. He was a member of the Assembly of Notables, 
 which convened in I "87, and was nominated one of the mem- 
 bers of the committee under the Count D'Artois, the present 
 king of France. Here he was a zealous and intrepid advocate 
 for the correction of existing abuses in the government and a 
 political reformation. He read several memorials, distinguished 
 for their noble political sentiments, and freedom and boldness of 
 language. His zeal and independence gave great offence to the 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 609 
 
 Count D'Artois, and called down upon him the suspicions and 
 hostility of the court, which placed him in a very delicate and 
 critical situation; but he was supported by the committee, who 
 approved of his memorials. One of the members in the warmth 
 of his feelings said to him — " Your achievements in America had 
 already enrolled your name in the list of heroes, but never before 
 have you so justly deserved that glorious distinction. How happy 
 I should be wa6 there a sculptor present to perpetuate your zeal 
 for the welfare of your country and your king." Being encour- 
 aged from the support he received, La Fayette followed up his 
 patriotic plans, and proposed a series of reforms, the suppression 
 of the state prisons, and lettres de cachet, and obtained a resolution 
 favoring the civil right of the protestants. But the most important 
 measure which he proposed^was the convocation of the States- 
 General, which had so important an influence on the destinies of 
 France and Europe. " What, 1 ' said the Count D'Artois, "do you 
 ask for the States-General?" "Yes," replied La Fayette, "and for 
 something more and better;" an intimation not then understood. 
 
 La Fayette was chosen a deputy to this celebrated body, 
 which convened in the month of May, 1789, and assumed the 
 name of the National Assembly. He at once became a leading 
 and influential member, and as vice-president, presided during 
 the important sitting on the night of the 13th and 14th of July, 
 the moment the Bastile was falling before the furious assaults of 
 the populace. 
 
 On the 11th of July, he submitted to the National Assembly, 
 the first declaration of the rights of man, which he introduced 
 with the following memorable language : 
 
 "Although my powers do not extend tome the right of voting 
 among you, it is my duty to lay my opinion before you. 
 
 "You have been presented with the declaration of rights, as 
 the first object of your labor and attention. 
 
 "That declaration is indispensable. It is not founded upon 
 metaphysical opinions, but upon the very basis of social order. 
 
 "It is of the first importance that those rights which are en- 
 graven on every man's heart, should be distinctly and unequivo- 
 cally recognised. 
 
,U0 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 "Yet it is my opinion that this declaration should be con- 
 fined to a statement of the unalienable rights of man, and of 
 man as we find him in a state of society. 
 
 "I have now the honor to submit the first model of such a de- 
 claration. 
 
 " I am far from insisting that it shall be adopted as it is ; I only 
 ask that it be copied, to be circulated freely among the different 
 committees." 
 
 M. de Lally Tolendal arose, and said — "With the exception 
 of a few lines, which admit, perhaps, of some little discussion, 
 I second the motion which has just been offai-ed. All the prin- 
 ciples contained therein are the sacred emanations of truth; all 
 the sentiments are noble and sublime. The author of the mo- 
 tion now displays as much eloquence in speaking of liberty, a? 
 he has already shown courage in defending it." 
 
 It was under his influence that a decree was adopted provi- 
 ding for the responsibility of the ministers, which was predica- 
 ted on one of the elementary principles of limited and represen- 
 tative monarchy. He took an active and influential part in the 
 important discussions of this period, the bill of rights and the 
 constitution, which having been matured, was adopted and 
 sworn to, with the most solemn ceremony, by the members of 
 the assembly in the Champ de Mars, on the 14th of Julv, 1790, 
 the anniversary of the fall of the Bastile. 
 
 After the fall of this strong castle of despotism, before the 
 rude assault of an immense armed multitude, of all ages and 
 conditions, great disorders prevailed; the people had become 
 enraged and their passions inflamed, and being encouraged by 
 success, it was difficult to restrain them or check their excesses. 
 At this critical conjuncture, two days after the capture of the 
 Bastile, La Fayette was appointed to command the National 
 Guards of Paris, by M. Bailly, who had been elected mayor of 
 that city. To increase the disorders, great scarcity prevailed 
 in the large cities, which threatened a famine, and immense 
 multitudes of both sexes were patroling the streets with the 
 cries of bread ! bread ! La Fayette did all in his power to pre- 
 serve tranquility, and protect the persons and property of the 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. &U 
 
 Citizens. The assembly also exerted themselves to calm the 
 public mind, and to maintain the public peace ; they also stea- 
 dily advanced forward in the great objects of the revolution, 
 and endeavored to act out the principles they had already re- 
 cognized. They passed a decree for the security of persons and 
 property, and enjoining the payment of taxes as usual; they 
 also abolished the most odious features of the feudal system, 
 which was followed by the suppression of tithes, and they de- 
 clared that henceforth all distinctions, political and personal, 
 should cease, and that France should be one nation, one family, 
 governed by the same laws, and that all other titles should be 
 merged in that of French Citizen. The constitution of '90, 
 divided France into eighty-three departments, abolished the 
 ieudal system, and lettres de cacket, fixed the qualifications of 
 electors, provided that the representatives were to form but one 
 chamber, and rendered the sale of offices criminal, annihilated 
 all orders and distinctions, granted to the king his veto on all 
 acts of the assembly, and established triennal legislatures. 
 
 In all these important measures, calculated to give to man his 
 dignity, his rights, his liberty, and to render a nation free, pow- 
 erful, prosperous and happy, La Fayette took an active and 
 decided part. If these measures did not produce the happy 
 results intended, let it not be considered as an impeachment of 
 the great principles on which they were founded, or of the pa- 
 triotic motives of their authors. The leaders in the first or 
 constituent assembly, La Fayette, Mirabeau, Bissot, &c. were 
 distinguished men, and their patriotic conduct, although not 
 successful to the extent they had reason to expect, is, neverthe- 
 less, the source of most of the political advantages which 
 France now enjoys. And there is reason to believe, that nei- 
 ther the imperial despotism of Napoleon, or the re-establish' 
 ment of the throne and dynasty of the Bourbons, nor all the vio- 
 lence and disorders of the revolution, can extinguish the light 
 which these illustrious men contributed to disseminate. The 
 seeds of liberty, sown in the early stages of the revolution, al- 
 though at first producing a growth too rank and luxuriant 
 to ripen to maturity, and afterward for a long period, choked by 
 
512 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 thorns, nevertheless can hardly fail, in due time, of producing 
 their proper fruits. But however this may be, it would be in 
 vain for the minions of royalty to impeach the motives and in- 
 tegrity of those distinguished patriots, or to sully the lustre of 
 their well-earned fame. The fidelity of history will do them 
 justice, and enrol their names among the first patriots and ben- 
 efactors of their country. 
 
 The situation of La Fayette as commander of the National 
 Guards, was one of peculiar difficulty and delicacy, as it brought 
 him into constant contact with the court and the throne. On the 
 5th of October, 1 790, a vast multitude, principally women, ap- 
 peared in the streets of Paris, crying out bread ! bread ! Being 
 joined by a company of the volunteers of the Bastile, they set 
 out for Versailles, the residence of the royal family. From the 
 contagion of example, the National Guards insisted on proceed- 
 ing hither likewise ; and La Fayette believing it difficult to re- 
 strain them, and also that the guards under his direction might 
 prevent the excesses of the multitude, thought it advisable to let 
 them proceed ; and having obtained the sanction of the munici- 
 pal authority, he led the guards to Versailles, where he arrived 
 about ten o'clock at night. He had been on horseback from 
 before day light in the morning, and made incredible exertions 
 to calm the guards and repress violence. "The Marquis de La 
 Fayette," says Madame de Stael, "entered the Chateau, and 
 passing through the apartment where we were, went to the 
 king. We all pressed around him as if he was master of events, 
 and yet the popular party was already more powerful than its 
 chief, and principles were yielding to factions, or rather, were 
 beginning to serve only as their pretext. M. de La Fayette's 
 manner. was perfectly calm; nobody ever saw it otherwise; but 
 his delicacy suffered from the part he was to act. He asked 
 for the interior posts of the Chateau in order that he might en- 
 sure their safety, bat only the outer posts were granted to him." 
 This refusal was not from want of confidence in La Fayette, 
 because of the etiquette of the court, the immediate defence of 
 the royal family could be intrusted to none but the guards of 
 the royal household. La Fayette therefore held himself re- 
 
Marquis de la fayette. 513 
 
 sponsible for the post commit ted to him and the National Guards. 
 The king and queen retired to rest between two and three o'clock ; 
 and about four, a portion of the populace found their way into 
 the interior of the palace through an obscure passage, which 
 had been overlooked, and which was not in that part of the 
 Chateau entrusted to La Fayette. They were evidently led by- 
 persons acquainted with the secret avenues^ and soon made their 
 way to the queen's chamber; two of her guards were instantly 
 cut down, and she narrowly escaped, almost naked. La Fay- 
 ette rushed in at this instant^ at the head of the National Guards 
 and rescued the Swiss Guards from popular violence, and saved 
 the royal family, which came near being sacrificed to the eti- 
 quette of the court. 
 
 At dawn of day^ an immense multitude surrounded the pal- 
 ace, and filled the vast space called, from the rich materials of 
 which it is constructed, the court of marble. In loud and an- 
 gry vociferations they called on the king to accompany them to 
 Paris, and on the queen to present herself at th,e balcony. The 
 king, after a consultation with his ministers, concluded to set 
 out for the capital. La Fayette, apprehending that it would be 
 unsafe for the queen to go, knowing the violence of the popu- 
 lace towards her, went and asked her if she intended to accom- 
 pany the king to Paris. "Yes," she replied, "although I am 
 sensible of the danger." "Are you positively determined? 5 ' 
 "Yes sir." "Condescend, then," said La Fayette, "to go out 
 on the balcony, and suffer me to attend you." "Without the 
 king?" she hesitatingly replied — "have you heard the threats?" 
 "Yes, Madame, I have, but dare to trust me." He conducted 
 her to the balcony; it was a nfftment of the most awful and del- 
 icate responsibility; the agitations, cries, and shouts of the vast 
 multitude, like the sound of mighty waters, prevented his voice 
 from being heard; but not on this or any other occasion, did his 
 presence of mind fail him; he simply, with that ease and grace 
 which distinguished the old court of France, kissed her hand, 
 in view of the multitude, This unexpected event was viewed 
 for a moment with silent astonishment by the populace, but soon, 
 the air resounded with the cries of "long live the queen! Ions; 
 
514 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE 
 
 live the general," from that same fickle populate, who, a .< fc 
 hours hefore, had imbrued their hands in the blood of the guards 
 who defended this same queen. It was on this occasion that 
 the guards first placed the tricolored cockade in their hats, and 
 supplicated for mercy in behalf of the king. The popular 
 rage for a time seemed to subside, but was soon revived by the cry 
 of" to -Paris ! to Paris !" The king having thought it prudent to com- 
 ply with the demands of the populace, accompanied by a dep- 
 utation of two hundred of the assembly and the National Guards, 
 set out for Paris. He was preceded by an executioner, be- 
 tween two wretches, each with a bloody head suspended upon 
 a pike, and followed by an immense multitude. La Fayette 
 could not prevent this indignity being offered the king, but suc- 
 ceeded in preventing much violence and bloodshed. 
 
 The discontents of the nobility and clergy broke out into a 
 civil war in La Vendee, and faction raged in the capital. On 
 the 20th June, '91, the Royal Family fled from the capital with 
 the intention of leaving the kingdom and proceeding to Varennes, 
 where they were discovered and conducted back to Paris. Con- . 
 ducted by the citizens of Varennes, and surrounded by an im- 
 mense body of the National Guards, the royal family passed 
 along the streets and squares amidst half a million of spectators; 
 no murmurs or reproaches were heard, nor a solitary voice 
 greeted the royal ear with the expression of joy; not a hand 
 was uplifted, nor a head uncovered, to honor the sovereign, but 
 a sullen silence prevailed. 
 
 From the increasing strength of the Jacobin faction, the situ- 
 ation of La Fayette became every day more difficult and crit- 
 ical; he was placed between Scyllaand Charibdis; the violent lea- 
 ders on the one hand tending to disorder and anarchy, and the 
 king and old aristocracy on the other. But by a steady adhe- 
 rence to principles he preserved his consistency and honor in the 
 most difficult circumstances. As a member of the assembly he 
 supported all rational plans of reform, in maturing and perfect- 
 ing the revolution, and opposed all violent measures. On the 
 20th of June, 1790, he seconded a motion for the abolition of 
 all titles of nobility. From this time he renounced his own title 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 5K» 
 
 of Marquis, and has never since resumed it himself, although 
 sometimes so called by others. He used all his influence to 
 complete the constitution, which it was decided should be re- 
 ceived and adopted in the assembly and the nation, in the most 
 imposing and solemn manner, and for which purpose, the 14th 
 of July, 1 730, the anniversary of the destruction of the Bastile, 
 was selected as an appropriate occasion. The labor of from 
 one to two hundred thousand persons of all conditions and 
 sexes, dukes, duchesses, bishops, deputies, butchers, porters, &c. 
 *in a few weeks raised an amphitheatre of earth four miles in 
 circumference, in the area behind the military school, called 
 the Champ de Mars, from the Champus Martius of the Romans. 
 Seats rising above each other were formed round the sides for the 
 people, and in the centre was, erected the throne and the altar. 
 The king, officers of the government, the deputies of the na- 
 tional assembly, a deputation of military from each department, 
 and a concourse of citizens amounting in all to more than four 
 hundred thousand, were collected in the grand amphitheatre, 
 which gave a magnificence and sublimity to the national festival. 
 Mass having been said, La Fayette, who commanded the Na- 
 tional Guards and the military, approached the altar, and in the 
 presence of this vast concourse swore to the constitution in be- 
 half of the nation. It was an awful situation ; every eye of this 
 vast assemblage was directed towards him, and every hand 
 raised to join with him in the oath. The world has never wit- 
 nessed so magnificent and solemn a ceremony, or perhaps an 
 individual voluntarily raised to so exalted and conspicuous a 
 situation,. He had the command of six millions of men, directed 
 this august national ceremony, and was the organ of the nation 
 iiself.. After La Fayette, the members of the assembly swore 
 bo the constitution. 
 
 Qn the 13th Septemher, Louis informed the assembly that he 
 had given his sanction to the constitution, which was solemnly 
 proclaimed throughout the kingdom; and on the 30th of the 
 same month the prcsidentproclaimed — " That having concluded, 
 the object for which they had convened, the national assembly 
 declares its powers to be at an end. and that it will set no longer. v ; 
 
616 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 Thus, after a session of two years, terminated the labours of tlit 
 first, or constituent assembly; a body of men as distinguished 
 for talents and patriotism as any other ever convened; and if wc 
 except the American congress of '76, perhaps the labours and 
 discussions of no other, were ever more important. Soon after 
 La Fayette, having completed the organization of the National 
 Guards, resigned, and retired to his estate. The second 
 national assembly, commenced by taking the oath to support the 
 constitution. Alarmed for their security, the nobility and 
 clergy fled from the kingdom; and the princes of the blood 
 having repaired to Coblentz, that place became a general ren- 
 dezvous of the emigrants; and the Prince of Conde soon began 
 to assemble an army of malcontents. 
 
 When t,he political society, first called the " Friends of the 
 People," and afterward the "Jacobin Club," having fallen 
 tinder the influence of Robespierre and Dapton, had become 
 odious and a most dangerous engine, La Fayette, with Talley- 
 rand, the Duke de Rochefaucault and Laincourt, the two 
 Lameths and others, attempted to counteract its pernicious 
 influence, by the establishment of another society, called " The 
 Club of 1789;" but they were afterward commonly called the 
 .Fuillans, from the convent where they assembled. This party 
 were the constitutionalists,of whom La Fayette may be regarded 
 as the head ; they continued in general to act with the Girondists* 
 •who were believed to be favorable to a republic, and were 
 distinguished for talents, patriotism and virtue. These two 
 parties united, formed a decided majority in the assembly, and 
 for a long time kept down the Jacobin faction, headed by Rob- 
 espierre and Danton. 
 
 Whilst the nation was agitated with disorders and factions 
 within, a storm was gathering from without, which threatened 
 the desolation of France. The treaty of Pilnitz, consummated 
 the first coalition against France: the professed object of which, 
 was to regulate its internal affairs, and to re-establtsh the mon- 
 archy with all its original powers and prerogatives; but its 
 real object probably was, had it been successful, to have subjected 
 France to the fate of Poland. This outrageous enterprise or. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 51", 
 
 the part of the allied powers, and the insulting demands of the 
 Emperor of Austria, overcome the dread of war at first felt b\ 
 the people, and roused the spirit of the nation. This spirit was 
 inflamed to the highest pitch by a popular and eloquent address 
 to the nation, published by the assembly, which immediately 
 followed the decree of war. And the conduct of the French 
 emigrants, who assembled on the borders of the stale in a hostile 
 manner, ready to invade their country, excited the highest 
 indignation of the people. 
 
 The assembly displayed great activity in preparing to prose- 
 cute hostilities. Three large armies took the field; one com* 
 manded by La Fayette, who was called from his voluntary 
 retirement for this purpose, one by Marshal Rochambeau, and 
 the other by Marshal Luckner. Their first operations were 
 not successful: the three generals had formed one plan of the 
 campaign, and the cabinet had formed another, and the dissen- 
 sions between them soon led to serious embarrassments and diffi- 
 culties. By the former scheme, La Fayette, was to have been 
 entrusted with the execution of an enterprise against the Low 
 Countries, or Austrian Netherlands, at the head of 50,000 men, 
 and was to have been supported by a second army under Ro 
 chambeau; whilst a third was to have taken possession of 
 Mentz. 
 
 The expedition against Tournay, and that against Mons, both, 
 failed; from which cause the advantages of the occupation of 
 Fumes were obliged to be relinquished. La Fayette with the 
 main army proceeded to Givet, where it was intended to make 
 a general rendezvous in the heart of the Austrian Netherlands. 
 The failure of the two first expeditions, disconcerted his plans 
 and embarrassed his operations; he was able however to keep 
 his ground. His army occupied the tract of country extending 
 from Givet to Bouvines. In the month of June the French 
 armies had made considerable progress in the Netherlands; but 
 the Austrians and Prussians advancing with a superior force, 
 they were obliged to retreat to Givet and Valenciennes. In 
 the meantime the cabinet was distracted by contentions, which 
 led to the resignation of Rochambeau,, and finally to a change of 
 
• >l<s MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTBi 
 
 the ministry, which was succeeded by an administration of the 
 Fuillant party. They did not possess the confidence of Un- 
 people or the majority of the assembly, and their power was 
 short. The dismission of the old and the appointment of the 
 new ministry, increased the strength and boldness of the Jacobii s 
 or violent party, both in the assembly and nation. This, and 
 other measures of the king, together with the coalition of sove- 
 reigns against France for the avowed object of restoring Louis 
 to his prerogatives and power, had occasioned suspicions that, 
 lie secretly favored the designs of the enemies of France, and 
 that if he could escape, he. would leave the country and throw, 
 himself into their hands, The conduct of the allies and of the, 
 king favored these suspicions, and enabled the leaders of the 
 violent party to inflame the fears, and passions of the people to 
 the highest pitch. The violent party were still a minority in the 
 assembly: but by their boldness, their violent measures, and the 
 control and direction they had acquired over public opinion, they 
 over-awed the deliberations, and in a great measure dictated to 
 the assembly. The leaders of this party feared no man so much 
 as La Fayette: from his known integrity, his attachment to the 
 constitution, the nation and the king, from the popularity he still, 
 maintained with moderate men of all parties, and above all 
 from his having the command of the army, they were sensible they 
 could never succeed in their ambitious plans until he was out 
 of the way; they were determined therefore to destroy him.- -~ 
 He was denounced in the assembly and the papers as having 
 engaged in a conspiracy with the king against the nation. But 
 neither the personal danger to which he perceived himself expo-, 
 sed, nor the gathering storm which threatened to burst on his 
 county, shook his firmness in the least, or deterred him from 
 making a bold and resolute effort, to save the constitution, the 
 king and his country from all the evils of anarchy and civil war. 
 .Accordingly, on the 16th of June, he addressed to the national 
 assembly, a long letter, in which he openly denounced the Jac^ 
 obin faction as the authors of all the mischiefs which afflicted the 
 nation, and conjured the assembly to crush the factions and save 
 the nation. Thjs letter unfolded the situation and sentiments of 
 
f.IARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 51!) 
 
 *Tia Fayette so fully at this conjuncture, that it ought not to be 
 omitted in a memoir of his life: — 
 
 At the entrenched camp of } 
 Mtubcgc, 1 6th June, 1792. \ 
 " Gentlemen, 
 
 " At the moment, perhaps too long deferred, in which I am 
 about to call your attention to the highest public interests, and to 
 point out among our dangers, the conduct of a ministry, whom I 
 have for a long time censured in my correspondence, I learn that; 
 unmasked in consequence of its own divisions, it has fallen a 
 sacrifice to its own intrigues. [This was the Brissotin ministry.] 
 It is not enough, however, that this branch of the government 
 has been delivered from its disastrous influence. The public 
 welfare is in peril — The fate of France depends principally on 
 its representatives — The nation expects from them its security. 
 But in giving them a constitution, France has prescribed to them 
 the o>ily means by which she can be saved. 
 
 " Persuaded, gentleman, that as the rights of man arc the law 
 of every constituent assembly, a constitution ought to be the law 
 of the legislators, which that constitution shall have established. 
 It is to you that I ought to denounce the too powerful efforts 
 which are making, to induce you to depart from that course which 
 yon have promised to pursue. 
 
 " Nothing shall deter me from the exercise of this right of a free- 
 man, to fulfil this duty of a citizen; neither the momentary erro^ 
 of opinion; fur what are opinions when the} 7 depart from prin- 
 ciples? nor my respect for the representatives of the people; for 
 I respect still more the people whose sovereign will it is to have 
 a constitution; nor the benevolence and kindness which you 
 have constantly evinced for myself; for I would preserve that as 
 I obtained it, by an inflexible love of liberty. 
 
 " Your situation is difficult — F ranee is menaced from without, 
 and agitated within. Whilst foreign powers announce the 
 intolerable (inadmissible) project of attacking our national 
 sovereignty, and avow it as a principle! at the same time the 
 enemies of France, its interior enemies, intoxicated with fanat. 
 icism and pride, entertain chimerical hopcf, and annoy us with. 
 
360 MARQUIS DE LA 1 AYETTE. 
 
 their insolent malevolence; You ought, gentlemen, to repress 
 them; and you will have the power so to do, only when you. 
 shall become constitutional and just. You wish it, no doubt; but 
 cast your eyes upon all that passes within your own body and 
 around you. Can you dissemble even to yourselves, that a 
 faction, (and to avoid all vague denunciations) the jacobin faction, 
 have caused all these disorders? It is that which I boldly accuse — 
 organized like a separate empire in the metropolis, and its affil- 
 iated societies, blindly directed by some ambitious leaders, this 
 sect forms a corporation entirely distinct in the midst of the French 
 people* whose powers it usurps, by tyrannizing over its represen- 
 tatives and constituted authorities* 
 
 4i It is in that body* in its public meeting, the love of the laws 
 Is denounced as aristocracy, and their breach as patriotism. — 
 There the assassins of Dessilles recei ve their triumphs, the crimes 
 of Jourdan find panegyrists. There the recital oi the massacre 
 which has stained the city of Mentz, has also been received with 
 infernal acclamations! Have they become sacred because the 
 emperor Leopold has pronounced their name? And because 
 it is our highest duty tc> combat the foreigners who mingle in our 
 domestic quarrels* are we at liberty to refrain from delivering 
 our country from domestic tyranny? 
 
 u Of what importance is it, as to the fulfilment of this duty, 
 that strangers have their projects, and their connivance and 
 concert with our internal foes? It is I, who denounce to you 
 this sect (the jacobins •) I, who, without speaking of my past 
 life, can reply to those who suspect my motives — " Approach, in 
 this m6ment of awful crisis, when the character of each man 
 must be known, and see which of us, more inflexible in his 
 principles* more obstinate in his resistance, will more courage- 
 ously overcome those obstacles, and those dangers, which traitors 
 to their country conceal, and which true citizens know how to 
 ippreciate, and to brave for her." 
 
 " And how could I delay longer to fulfil this duty, whilst every 
 successive day weakens still more the constituted authorities? 
 substitutes the spirit of party for the will of the people; whilst 
 ■•he audacity of the agitators* [the disorganizes] imposes silence 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. S2 1 
 
 on peaceable citizens, throws into retirement useful men, and 
 whilst devotion to the sect or party stands in the place of public and 
 private virtues, which, in a free country, ought to be the austere 
 [severe, or strict] and only means of attaining to pubHc office. 
 
 " It is, after having been opposed to all the obstacles, and to 
 all the snares, which were laid for me, the courageous and per- 
 severing patriotism of an army, sacrificed perhaps to conspiracies 
 against its commander, [La Fayette was the commander] that I 
 now oppose to this faction the correspondence of a ministry, worthy 
 representative of its club — a correspondence, the calculations of 
 which are false, its promises vain and illusory — its information 
 deceitful or frivolous — its advice perfidious or contradictory — 
 correspondence, in which, after pressing me to advance without 
 precaution — to attack without means — they finally began to tell 
 me that resistance was impossible, when I indignantly repelled the 
 cowardly and base assertion. What a remarkable conformity 
 of language, gentlemen, between the factions whom the aristoc- 
 racy avow, and those who usurp the name of patriots! They 
 both wish to overthrow our laws, rejoice in our disorders, array 
 themselves against the constituted authorities, detest the national 
 guards (the militia) — preach insubordination to the army — sow, 
 at one moment, distrust, at another, discouragement. 
 
 " As to myself, gentlemen, who embraced the American cause at 
 the moment when its ambassadors declared to me that it was perilous 
 or desperate — who from that moment have devoted my life to a 
 persevering defence of liberty and of the sovereignty of the 
 people — who, on the 14th of July, 1789, (after the taking of the 
 Bastile,) in presenting to my country a declaration of rights, 
 dared to say, " that in order that a nation should be free, it is 
 only necessary that it should will so to be," 1 come, this day, 
 full of confidence in the justice of our cause — of contempt, for 
 the cowards who desert it, and of indignation against the trai- 
 tors who would sully or stain it with crimes; I am ready to 
 declare that the French nation, if it is not the vilest in the uni- 
 verse, can and ought to resist the conspiracy of kings who have 
 coalesced against it! 
 
 " It is not in the midst of my brave army that timid counsels 
 
 6* 
 
520 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 should be permitted — Patriotism, discipline, patience, mutual 
 confidence, all the military and civil virtues I find here. Here 
 the principles of liberty and equality are cherished, the laws 
 respected, property held sacred. Here calumnies and factions 
 are unknown. And when I reflect that France has many millions 
 who can become such soldiers, I ask myself, to what a degree of 
 debasement must such an immense people be reduced, stronger in 
 its natural resources than in its artificial defences, opposing to a 
 monstrous and discordant confederation simple and united coun- 
 sels and combinations, that the cowardly, degrading idea of 
 sacrificing its sovereignty, of permitting any discussion as to its 
 liberties, of committing to negotiation its rights, could be con- 
 sidered among the possibilities of a rapidly advancing futurity! 
 
 " But, in order that we, soldiers of liberty, should combat for 
 her with efficacy, or die for her with any fruit or advantage, it 
 is necessary that the number of the defenders of the country- 
 should be promptly made in some degree proportionate to that 
 of our opponents 5 that the supplies of all descriptions should be 
 increased so as to facilitate our movements; that the comfort and 
 conveniences of the troops, their clothes and arms, their pay^ 
 the accommodations for the sick, should no longer be subject to 
 fatal delays, or to a miserable and misplaced economy, which 
 defeats its very end. 
 
 " It is above all, necessary that the citizens rallied round their 
 constitution, should be assured that the rights which that consti- 
 tution guarantees shall be respected with a religious fidelity; 
 which will of itself cause more despair to our enemies than any 
 other measure. 
 
 " Do not repel this desire — this ardent wish. It is that of all 
 the sincere friends of your legitimate authority ; assured that no 
 unjust consequences or effect can flow from a pure principle — 
 that no tyranical measure can save a cause, which owes its force, 
 aye and its glory, to the sacred principles of liberty and equality. 
 Let criminal jurisprudence resume its constitutional power. — 
 Let civil equality — let religious freedom enjoy the application 
 of their true principles. In fine, let the reign of the clubs be 
 annihilated by you ; let them give place to the laws — their usur- 
 
MARQ.UIS DE LA FAYETTE 588 
 
 pations to the firm and independent exercise of the powers of 
 the constituted authorities — their disorganizing maxims to the 
 true principles of liberty — their delirious fury to the calm and 
 constant courage of a nation which knows its rights, and is ready 
 to defend them — in fine, their sectarian combinations to the true 
 interests of the country, of the nation, which in a moment of 
 danger ought to unite a//, except those to whom its subjection 
 and ruin are the objects of atrocious pleasure and infamous 
 speculation. 
 
 LA FAYETTE. 
 
 The sentiments contained in this letter, are bold, noble, and 
 patriotic, worthy of the disciple of Washington, and of the hero 
 and patriot of the American revolution. But the efforts of La 
 Fayette were in vain; the audacity and violence of the jacobin 
 faction continued to increase; the assembly had not the courage 
 or the power to repress them, and affairs rapidly approached a 
 crisis. On the 20th of June, a vast and promiscuous multitude, 
 beaded by Santerre, armed with pikes and preceded with two 
 cannon, advanced to the palace, and overcoming every obstacle, 
 found their way to the presence of the king and royal family. 
 They read a petition to his majesty, praying for the dismissal of 
 the new ministry and the relinquishment of hisveto, by means of 
 which he had suspended several decrees. Louis manifested 
 great courage and firmness, and after an animated address from 
 Vergniaux, a leading member of the assembly, and a few words 
 from Petion, mayor of Paris, the populace withdrew, without 
 committing any violence; but not until they had placed the red 
 cap of liberty on the head of the king, to see how the symbol of 
 freedom, would become the brow of royalty. 
 
 This and other outrages, together with the repeated denunci- 
 ations against himself, induced La Fayette to confront his accu- 
 sers, and make one more still bolder effort, to rouse the assembly 
 to a sense of danger, and inspire them with that courage and 
 firmness, demanded by the crisis. Leaving the head-quarters 
 of the army, he repaired to Paris, and fearlessly presented 
 himself before the bar of the national assembly, confronted his 
 enemies, and demanded to be tried. Being acquitted by a great 
 
524 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE 
 
 majority, " he entreated the assembly to come forward anu 
 the country from ruin, by dissolving the factious clubs and inflic- 
 ting exemplary punishment on the authors of the late disgrace- 
 ful riots. 1 ' His friends in the assembly were numerous, and 
 undoubtedly a majority of that body condemned the violent 
 proceedings against which he raised his voice; but they had 
 not courage to act; the assembly were overawed and enslaved 
 by the audacity and tyranny of desperate and unprincipled dem- 
 agogues who controlled the fury of the populace. The presence 
 of La Fayette, revived the recollections of the national guards 
 of Paris, of his unbounded popularity when he was placed at 
 their head; they assembled before the hotel where he lodged, 
 planted the tree of liberty before the door, decorated it with 
 ensigns and ribbons, and greeted him with enthusiastic excla- 
 mations of La Fayette and the constitution! La Fayette and 
 liberty, viva le La Fayette! 
 
 Finding that all his efforts to preserve tranquility, repress the 
 factions, and preserve the constitution were unavailing, he left 
 the capitol and returned to the army on the frontiers. On reti- 
 ring he addressed the following note to the assembly, containing 
 the most noble and patriotic sentiments, expressed in dignified 
 language. 
 
 " Gentlemen — In returning to the post where brave soldiers 
 are ready to die for the constitution, but ought not and will not 
 lavish their blood except for that, 1 go with great and deep regret 
 in not being able to inform the army, that the national assembly 
 have yet deigned to come to any determination on my petition. 
 [Alluding to the request in his letter to the assembly a short time 
 before to suppress the Jacobin clubs.] The voice of all the 
 good citizens of the kingdom, which some factious clamours 
 strive to stifle, daily calls to the elected representatives of the 
 people, that while there exists near them a sect who fetter all 
 the authorities and menace their independence; and who, after 
 provoking war, are endeavoring, by changing the nature of our 
 cause, to make it impossible to defend it; that while there is 
 cause to blush at the impunity of an act of treason against the 
 nation, which has raised just and great alarms in the minds of 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 525' 
 
 all the French, and universal indignation ; our liberty, laws, and 
 honor are in danger. 
 
 Truths like these, free and generous souls are not afraid of 
 speaking. Hostile to the factions of every kind, indignant at 
 cowards that can sink so low as to look for foreign interposition, 
 and impressed with the principle, which I glory in being the 
 first to declare to France, that all illegal pozoer is oppression, 
 against which, resistance becomes a duty, we are anxious to make 
 known our fears to the legislative body. We hope that the pru- 
 dence of the representatives of the people will relieve our 
 minds of them. As for me, gentlemen, who will never alter my 
 principles, sentiments, or language, 1 thought that the national 
 assembly, considering the urgency and danger of circumstances, 
 would permit me to add my regrets and wishes to my profound 
 respect." 
 
 The boldness and intrrepidity of the conduct of La Fayette 
 on this occasion, when he was openly denounced by the violent 
 leaders, and known to be the object of the hatred and vengeance 
 of all the factious demagogues, could only have been inspired 
 by a conviction that an awful crisis was impending, and a con- 
 sciousness of the justness of his cause, and the integrity and 
 patriotism of his motives. 
 
 ** Thrice is he armed who has his quarrel just, 
 And he but naked, though locked up in steel, 
 Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted." 
 
 Among the accusations against La Fayette, he was charged 
 with a design to march to Paris with his army, and to force the 
 assembly to act agreeably to his wishes. Tn behalf of the as- 
 sembly, the minister of the interior wrote to him on the 
 subject, and Gen. La Fayette in reply observed — "If I were 
 questioned respecting my principles, I should say that as a con- 
 stant proclaimer and defender of the rights of man and the sov- 
 ereignty of the people, I have every where and always resisted 
 authorities which liberty disavowed, and which the national will 
 had not delegated; and that I have every where and always 
 obeyed those of which a free constitution had fixed the forms 
 
526 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 and limits. But I am questioned respecting a fact — Did 1 pro- 
 pose to Marshal Luckner to march to Paris with our armies? 
 To which I answer in four words — it is not trw" 
 
 Whilst faction raged within, the storm was gathering without } 
 the coalition having received the accession of several other 
 powers, had collected an army of 80,000 men on the frontiers 
 of France, for the invasion of the country. The Duke of 
 Brunswick, who had been appointed generalissimo of the com- 
 bined forces, on the 25th of July, issued a manifesto, in which 
 he declared that (he object of the coalition was to annihilate 
 the existing government, liberate the king, and re-establish the 
 monarchy and the ansient regime ; that the national assembly 
 should be answerable with their heads for the safety of the royal 
 family; and that the city of Paris should be held responsible for 
 all disorders, and if the least violence should be offered to any 
 one of the Royal family, that city should be razed to the ground, 
 and the inhabitants exterminated with the sword. He also 
 denounced vengeance and military execution against all'who 
 should be found in arms in. support of the existing government, 
 and in defence of their own country. This infamouns coalition, 
 as weak as it was wicked, with the avowal of such abominable 
 intentions and objects, confirmed the suspicions of the unfortu- 
 nate monarch, inflamed the already exasperated feelings towards 
 him, and hurried on his fate, and that of France, by strength- 
 ening the violent party, and giving them an ascendency. 
 
 On the 3d of August, Petion, at the head of the Sections of 
 Paris, appeared before the bar of the assembly, and demanded 
 the deposition of the king; and numerous petitions to this effect 
 were received from various quarters. Affairs having ripened 
 to a crisis, on the night of the 9th of August, a conspiracy was 
 formed by the leaders of the violent party, to overthrow the 
 king, the monarchy, and the constitution, at one blow. Dan- 
 ton, Desmoulins, Conville, Tallien Fabre d'Eglantine, Collofc 
 d'Herbois, Santerre, and others, met in the hall of the Corde- 
 liers. Danton, with a loud and furious voice, concluded a ve- 
 hement speech, in which he recapitulated the crimes of the 
 court, with the following appeal: — "Let us cease to appeal to 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 527 
 
 the laws and the legislators, the greater part of them are no- 
 thing better than the accomplices of La Fayette, whom they 
 have just absolved. To absolve that traitor, is to deliver our- 
 selves to him, to the enemies of France, and to the sanguinary 
 vengeance of the coalesced kings. What do I say! it is this 
 very night which this perfidious Louis has selected for deliver- 
 ing up to carnage and to the flames that capital which he wishes 
 once more to leave — To arms! to arms!" This cry in an in- 
 stant was repeated from a thousand mouths; it spread like light- 
 ning in every direction; the bells were rung, and in a few min- 
 utes the dreadful tocsin of alarm resounded through the capital, 
 filling the inhabitants with fear, and carrying terror and dismay 
 to every apartment of the Thuilleries. More than 20,000 men, 
 headed by Westermann, armed in various ways, with forty 
 pieces of cannon, made a furious assault on the castle of the 
 Thuilleries. The Swiss Guards made a resolute and obstinate 
 defence, but were overpowered by numbers, and nearly all mas- 
 sacred. Before the attack, the king and royal family fled for 
 refuge to the national assembly, where they remained for four- 
 teen hours, in a small box appropriated to the reporter of a 
 newspaper; he was finally conducted, under a strong escort, to 
 the Temple. The king being thus deposed, in fact, and being 
 overawed by the violent leaders, the assembly passed a series of 
 acts declaring the executive power suspended, and the autho- 
 rity vested in the king by the constitution, revoked; and inviting 
 the people to meet in primary assemblies, and elect members to 
 a national convention. A provisional executive council was 
 established, and a decree of accusation issued against several 
 of the late ministers. 
 
 News of these violent proceedings reached La Fayette at 
 his head-quarters, at Sedan, on the 10th inst. He did not, for 
 a moment, hesitate how to act: as he had been the first to oppose 
 the despotism of the court, he was alse the first to oppose the 
 faction and tyranny of unprincipled demagogues, who trampled 
 under foot the constitution they had sworn to support. He im- 
 mediately addressed to the army under his command, the fol 
 lowing letter: — 
 
528 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 * Citizen Soldiers, 
 
 "It is no longer time to conceal from you what is going for- 
 ward: the constitution you swore to maintain, is no more; a 
 banditti from Marseilles, and a troop of factious men besieged 
 the palace of the Thuilleries; the National and Swiss Guards 
 made a vigorous resistance, but for want of ammunition they 
 were obliged to surrender. 
 
 " General D'Affry, his aids-de-camp, and his whole family, 
 were murdered. 
 
 "The king, queen, and all the royal family, escaped to the 
 national assembly; the factious ran thither, holding a sword in 
 one hand, and fire in the other, and forced the legislative body 
 to supersede the king, which was done for the sake of saving 
 his life. 
 
 "Citizens, you are no longer represented; the national assem- 
 bly is in a ttate of slavery; your armies are without leaders; 
 Petion reigns; the savage Dantonand his satellites are masters. 
 Thus, soldiers, it is your province to examine whether you will 
 restore the hereditary representatives to the throne, or submit 
 to the disgrace of having a Petion for your king." 
 
 " Gen. Dillon, who commanded the northern army, and who 
 had been a member of the first assembly, having assembled his 
 troops, prevailed on them to take the oath of fidelity " to the na- 
 tion, the law, and the king." Marshal Luckner hesitated, for a 
 long time, but finally declared for the assemby; and the other 
 generals, Biron, Montesquieu, Kellerman, and Custine, sent in 
 their adhesion, and bowed to the new order of things, and to- 
 gether with their troops, took the republican oaths. The effect 
 of the appeal of La Fayette to his troops, was for a short time 
 uncertain ; the soldiers at first apparently responded to his senti- 
 ments ; but he soon found that the contagion had spread among 
 the troops, and that their fidelity was no longer to be depended 
 upon. The assembly, anticipating that La Fayette would not 
 recognise their authority, had despatched three commissioners 
 to arrest him, or secure the army, by inducing the troops to de- 
 sert. On their arrival at Sedan, La Fayette ordered them to 
 be arrested, and held as hostages for the safety of the king and 
 
MAfcQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 52$ 
 
 his family; they were detained from the 14th to the 20th inst. 
 The situation of La Fayette became every day more critical; 
 the assembly passed a decree of accusation against him, and 
 finding that he had lost the confidence of the army, and that his 
 troops were ready to desert him, he deemed it prudent to seek 
 an asylum in a foreign land, and intended ultimately to go to 
 America. 
 
 Thus terminated the revolutionary career of La Fayette in 
 his own country; very different from the termination of his ex- 
 ertions in the glorious struggle for liberty in America. Here, 
 although a foreigner, he enjoyed the confidence of the govern- 
 ment and of the nation, and the universal love and esteem of the 
 people. There, after all his services and sacrifices, and the 
 unbounded popularity he had enjoyed, he was proscribed, and 
 a reward offered for his head by the government, and theobjeel, 
 of the suspicion, if not of the hatred, of the people. 
 
 In the early siages of the revolution, his popularity and in- 
 fluence were very great. He proposed the first plan of a "de- 
 claration of rights" in the constituent assembly; he was firs! 
 appointed commander of the National Guards of Paris, and 
 after the recall of Necker, he was unanimously chosen com- 
 mander-in-chief of the National Guards of the whole kingdom, 
 which he, in a great measure, organized and instituted, the tri- 
 colored cockade. In this capacity he presided at the grand na- 
 tional fete, on the 14th of July, as the generalissimo of a greater 
 body of troops, than had ever perhaps been under the immediate 
 command of one man, since the days of Xerxes. 
 
 In 1791, after the constitution was established, and the new 
 government organized, he resigned his command and retired to 
 his estate. He declined to receive any thing for his services, 
 or the sacrifices he had made. On being pressed on this sub- 
 ject, by the assembly and the municipality of Paris, he replied 
 — "My private fortune secures me from want; it has out-, 
 lasted two revolutions, and should it survive a third, through 
 the complacence of the people, it shall belong to them alone/' 
 
 When the coalition was formed against France, near the close 
 of the year '91. be wu? called from retirement to take the com- 
 
 C7 
 
530 TV1ARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 mand of (he central army; he was at that time major-genera), 
 but soon obtained the rank of lieutenant-general, and marshal 
 of France. 
 
 If La Fayette failed in his attempt to secure the liberties of 
 his own country, and establish a free government, founded on 
 the immutable basis of the sovereignty of the people, the del- 
 egation of authority, the representative principle, and the su- 
 premacy of constitutional law, it is no impeachment of his pa- 
 triotism or his capacity. He did not fail alone; the many illus- 
 trious and patriotic men, who were associated with him, failed 
 likewise. They succeeded, however, in accomplishing the 
 revolution as far as they proposed to carry it, but the difficulty 
 was in stopping it from going farther. In this they failed; and 
 it is by no means probable, that any body of men, not even 
 Washington and the American Continental Congress, could 
 have been more successful. The circumstances of the times 
 were unexampled, and events are not therefore, to be decided 
 on, according to ordinary principles. 
 
 The overthrow of the monarchy and the constitution, on the 
 10th of August, and the execution of the king, and all the vio- 
 lent proceedings which followed, are more to be attributed to 
 the infamous coalition formed against France than any other 
 cause. Had it not been for this unholy interference of the 
 "holy alliance" of* that day, it is more ihan probable, that La 
 Fayette and his party would have succeeded in preserving the 
 constitutional government, in saving the king from the guillotine, 
 and the nation from all the horrors of anarchy and civil war. 
 La Fayette was sincerely and ardently devoted to the constitu- 
 tion; to popular and free institutions, and to regulated liberty; 
 he could admit of no compromise of principle, or violation of 
 constituted authority; and his personal integrity, as well as po- 
 litical principles, required him to adhere in the most scrupulous 
 manner to the oath he had taken, of fidelity to the constitution, 
 the nation and the king. And although he did not succeed in 
 preserving the constitution or protecting the monarch, he did 
 what was more important to his own reputation ; he maintained 
 bis integrity and fidelity under the most trying circumstances, to 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. Wl 
 
 fche last. It was this fidelity that occasioned his proscription;, 
 had he yielded in some degree, to the times, and gone along 
 with the current of popular opinion, still endeavoring to main- 
 tain what control and direction he could over it, he might have^ 
 saved himself from the storm which at that time burst upon him, 
 and possibly his country from the dreadful evils which after- 
 ward befell it. This, however, is extremely problematical: and 
 at any rate, it could not have been done, without compromising 
 both his personal integrity and political principles, and would 
 have destroyed that consistency of character for which he now 
 stands so conspicuous. 
 
 That La Fayette and his party were correct in their views 
 and objects, the result has shown; their opinions of the jacobin 
 leaders proved to be well founded, and had the counsels of the 
 party of which he was the leader prevailed, France would not 
 only have been saved from the anarchy which afterward afflic- 
 ted her, but would have preserved her liberty and all the bles- 
 sings of free institutions. Although from the peculiar and ex- 
 traordinary circumstances under which he was required to act. 
 he may in some instances have misjudged or committed errors, 
 yet now, no one, unless it be the minions of royalty and the crea- 
 tures of 'the 'holy alliance,' can doubt the rectitude of his in- 
 tentions, the soundness of his principles, or that he was a sincere 
 friend of liberty and his country. 
 
 On the 20th of August, La Fayette,* with his three friends, 
 Generals Latour Maubeurg, Alexandre Lameth, and Bureau de 
 Puzy, the commandant of engineers, with his aids-de-camp and 
 a part of his staff, mounted on horse back with an escort, started 
 f>ff, as if to reconnoitre, which was supposed to be the object by 
 all except the three first, as they alone were in the secret. 
 
 *The account of La Fayette's imprisonment and suffering?, and the parti- 
 culars of the attempts made to effect his escape, are taken from the recent work 
 of General II. L. Villaume Ducoudrav IIolstf.in, who, under the fictitious 
 Dame of Peter Feldmann, assisted in the liberation of La Fayette from the 
 prisons of Olmutz. The accuracy of General Holstein's account of the at- 
 tempts made to effect the escape of General La Fayette, has been questioned, 
 and differs in many respects from former accounts. But as he possessed the 
 means of information, it would bu strange that he should attach his name to a 
 publication, professing the fidelity of history, which had more the character ot 
 rnmajneo. 
 
532 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTJ 
 
 They proceeded eight or ten miles, and dismounted at an run, 
 and established sentinels to guard against surprise from the en- 
 enemy's patroles* Here General La Fayette communicated 
 intelligence from the capital; that he had been declared a trai- 
 tor and an enemy of his country, a decree of accusation passed 
 against him, and a price set upon his head. He concluded by 
 saying, that he had determined to quit his country for a time, 
 and that he should consider any man her enemy who should 
 propose to take up arms against her. Nothing could equal the 
 astonishment and indignation of these young officers; and not- 
 withstanding the injunction, they unanimously declared that 
 the only way left to save their country and their general, was to 
 march direct to Paris, and disperse and put down the Jacobin 
 taction. This their patriotic and persecuted general positively 
 declined. They then insisted on emigrating with him; but he 
 represented to them the danger of this, to themselves and fam- 
 ilies, and entreated them to return to the camp. He finally con- 
 sented that the two brothers, Latour and Louis Maubourg, Bu- 
 reau de Puzy, Alexandre Lameth, Augustc Masson,Renc Pillet, 
 and Cadignan might accompany him. The rest of the officers, 
 with the escort of 150 cavalry, returned to the camp. The 
 cavalry at first, however, refused to return, and insisted on ac- 
 companying their general. Here it is worthy of remark, that 
 La Fayette, persecuted and proscribed as he was, by an un- 
 grateful country, did not attempt to procure the desertion of a 
 single regiment; he would rot even petmit the escort that had 
 accompanied him, to share his fortunes, which they were desi- 
 rous to do, but insisted on their returning. The situation of La 
 Fayette at this time, and the dreadful reflections whhch agitated 
 Ills mind, if they can be conceived, cannot be described. His 
 own danger, and that of his family and his estate; the distracted 
 condition of his ungrateful country, torn to pieces by factions, 
 binder the misrule of anarchists, and on the point of being inva- 
 ded by a formidable army drawn from half of Europe rushed on 
 his mind, and filled it with the most disagreeable reflections. 
 
 About eleven o'clock at night, the seven fugitives arrived in 
 the neighborhood ©f the Austrians'' advance guard, and w.cre 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 333 
 
 arrested, and after being detained some time, sent under a strong 
 escort to the Austrian head-quarters, and at length to Luxem- 
 burg. Here they were recognised by a crowd of refugees, who 
 regarding La Fayette as one of the first promoters of the revo- 
 lution, treated him and his companions with the greatest inso- 
 lence and contempt. Being placed in rigorous confinement, 
 they wrote to the Duke of Saxe Teschen for passports, which 
 was answered by a savage threat of a public execution. The 
 governor of Luxemburg having received orders to deliver his 
 prisoners into the hands of the king of Prussia, they were trans- 
 ported into a common cart like criminals, guarded by a strong 
 escort, to Wesel. During the nights when it was necessary to 
 stop, they were confined in the common jails of the country. 
 At Wesel, after being insulted by the populace and treated like 
 brutes, they were put in irons, and confined in separate cells in 
 the castle, being denied all intercourse with each other. They 
 were daily told that " the king intended to have them hanged 
 for wretches who deserved no favor/' 
 
 From the severity of his treatment, and his excessive appre- 
 hensions on account of his wife and children, La Fayette fell 
 sick; and whilst recovering, but yet in a languishing state, the 
 king had the baseness to offer him his liberty on condition that 
 he would betray his country ; and the decided refusal he received, 
 was followed by a more rigorous confinement and harsher 
 treatment, and all information as to their families was denied 
 them. From this place they were transported in a cart like 
 convicts to Magdeburg; it was expected that this treatment 
 would excite public scorn and detestation; but their tyrants 
 were mistaken, for a lively sympathy and interest was every 
 where manifested in their behalf. Here they were confined one 
 year in a damp and subterraneous dungeon; but were permitted 
 to remain together. From Magdeburg, with the exception of 
 Alexandre Lameth, they were all conveyed to Silesia, and were 
 confined in an unhealthy and loathsome dungeon at Neisse. 
 
 On making peace with France, the king of Prussia, fearing 
 that he might be required to give up his prisoners, had them 
 convoyed to Austria, where thev were confined more than four 
 
.534 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 years at Oimuiz, about one hundred and fifty miles north cT 
 Vienna, and near Silesia. Here they were stripped of what 
 Jittle the Prussians had left, and among the articles were two 
 books whose liberal sentiments did not accord with the despotic 
 principles of the government, so that La Fayette inquired, 
 "whether they were seized as contraband." They were incar- 
 cerated in separate cells, and informed that they would never 
 again see the light of the sun or hear a human voice; that their 
 very names were to be annihilated, and that in future they would 
 be designated in all despatclues of the government, by the number 
 of their respective cells. The prison walls were twelve feet 
 thick; the cells were eight or ten paces deep, and six or eight 
 wide; the light was let in through an opening two feet square, 
 secured by massive iron bars transversely placed ; before the 
 loop-holes of the prison was a broad ditch filled with stagnant 
 water, which emitted a noxious effluvia, and beyond were the 
 outer walls of the castle, which prevented the slightest breeze 
 from passing to the grated windows of these miserable dungeons. 
 When it rained, the water found its way into the prison through 
 the loop-holes and off the walls,so that the prisoners often waked 
 in the morning wet to the skin. A quantity of rotten straw 
 formed their bed, which, with a broken chair and an old worm 
 eaten table, constituted the furniture of each apartment. A 
 dim lamp glimmered in each cell at night, and very little light 
 was introduced during the day, even when the sun shined, but 
 when cloudy, which was very common in that wet country, it 
 was total darkness. Such was the situation for years, of one of 
 the most illustrious men of the ago; 
 
( 535 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Sentiments which his unjust imprisonment produced — Exertions of Washington 
 lor his liberation — in the House of Commons — Attempt of Bollman to effect 
 Uis escape — is favored in his efforts by Huger — They succeed in effecting his 
 escape — Are all arrested and confined in prison — La Fayette is put in irons, 
 and receives the most severe treatment — He is joined by his wife and two 
 daughters, who share his imprisonment — they are discharged and return to 
 Holstein — they return to France — His interview with the First Consul — Pro- 
 tests against his appointment of consul for life, and writes him a letter — Thfc 
 ends the connexion between him and Napoleon. 
 
 The imprisonment and suffering of La Fayette excited the 
 most lively interest with the friends of liberty and humanity 
 throughout Europe and America; here, particularly, the deepest 
 sympathy was manifested in his behalf. As was natural to have 
 been supposed, no one was more sensibly affected at the misfor- 
 tunes of La Fayette than his friend Washington, at this time 
 president of the United States. From the hostility both of the/ 
 government of France and the coalesced sovereigns to La Fay- 
 ette, it was a delicate matter for Washington to interfere offiJ 
 cially in his behalf, and at the same time, very evident that thty 
 course was »ot the most likely to be successful; and on the othet 
 hand, it might have exposed him to severer treatment.-j- 
 Washington, however, was not unmindful of the situation of his 
 personal friend, and the friend of America; he instructed owi 
 minister at St. James's, and those at the other foreign courts, to 
 interest themselves in his behalf, and to make known the interest 
 felt by the government of the United States in his fate. He 
 also sent a messenger to Berlin, to solicit his release, but he Aid 
 not arrive until La Fayette had been delivered over to f.hc 
 Austrian government. AH his efforts having failed, Washington 
 addressed the subjoined unofficial letter, containing the most 
 noble sentiments, directly to the emperor of Austria. 
 
 " It will readily occur to your majesty, that occasions may 
 sometimes exist, on which official considerations would constrain 
 the chief of a nation to be silent and passive, in relation even 
 -to objects which affect his sensibility, and claim his interposition 
 as a man. Finding myself precisely in this situation at present. 
 
536 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 I take the liberty of writing this private letter to jour majesty, 
 being persuaded that my motives will also be my apology 
 for it. 
 
 u In common with the people of this country, I retain a strong 
 and cordial sense of the services rendered to them by the 
 Marquis de La Fayette; and my friendship for him has been 
 constant and sincere. It is natural, therefore, that I should 
 sympathize with him and his family in their misfortunes; and 
 endeavor to mitigate the calamities they experience, among 
 which his present confinement is not the least distressing. 
 
 " I forbear to enlarge on this delicate subject. Permit me 
 only to submit to your majesty's consideration, whether his long 
 imprisonment and the confiscation of his estate, and the indigence 
 and dispersion of his family, and the painful anxieties incident 
 to all these circumstances, do not form an assemblage of sufferings 
 which recommend him to the mediation of humanity? Allow 
 me, Sir, on this occasion to be its organ; and to entreat that he 
 may be permitted to come to this country, on such conditions as 
 your majesty may think it expedient to prescribe. 
 
 u As it is a maxim with me not to ask what, under similar 
 circumstances, I would not grant, your majesty will do me the 
 ustice to believe that this request appears to me to correspond 
 mth those great principles of magnanimity and wisdom, which 
 form the basis of sound policy and durable glory." 
 
 This appeal to the magnanimity and humanity of the emperor 
 waf in vain; these sentiments are not often found in the bosoms 
 of kings, and where they do exist, they are suppressed by 
 "reasons of state." 
 
 The subject of the cruel imprisonment of La Fayette, equally 
 in violation of the laws of nations and the dictates of humanity, 
 was brought before the house of commons in Great Britain. — 
 General Fitzpatrick, on the lGth December, 1796, moved for 
 an address to his majesty, stating that the detention of La Fayette 
 and others, by order of the king of Prussia and emperor of 
 Austria, was dishonorable to the cause of the allies, and praying 
 him to interfere for their release. The motion called forth a 
 most a-nimated and spirited debate; it was ably and eloquently 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 337 
 
 supported by the mover, Mr. Fox; and other members of the 
 opposition; and was opposed by the chancellor of the exchequer, 
 and other ministerial members. The motion afforded a striking 
 illustration of the inconsistency of conduct or waywardness of 
 fortune in two individuals. Among the supporters of the motion 
 was Colonel Tarlton, then a member of parliament, and who 
 had been opposed to La Fayette in America, in the campaign of 
 1781, and at that time so obnoxious to all the friends of liberty 
 in the United States, and the friends of La Fayette. He dis- 
 played much zeal in supporting the motion in favour of his 
 former military opponent, and did great justice to his character 
 and merits. While Tarleton, who had been so active in support- 
 ing the oppressive plans of the British government for enslaving 
 America, was advocating the cause of La Fayette, who was a 
 champion in her struggle for liberty, Edmund Burke, who during 
 the American war, was the fearless advocate of the rights and 
 liberty of the Americans, was now the most violent opposer of 
 this early and steadfast friend of America and of liberty. He 
 was very severe in his remarks, and charged La Fayette with 
 being the first mover and author of all the evils which had afflic- 
 ted France, and of the general war in Europe. 
 
 In Germany also, the liberal and enlightened, the friends of 
 justice, liberty, and humanity, manifested great admiration of the 
 patriot and hero of two revolutions, in both of which he had 
 been the champion of liberty and of the rights of mankind, and 
 an honorable sympathy for his cruel sufferings. Many of the 
 public journals had sufficient independence to openly advocate 
 his cause, and to condemn the conduct of his persecutors. — 
 Among his greatest admirers was Henry Bollman, a young 
 physician of Gottingen, who was so affected by the barbarous 
 treatment which he experienced, that he determined to attempt 
 his liberation at the hazard of his own life. In the beginning 
 of the year 1794, he sold his library to raise funds for his journey, 
 and set out on foot for Hamburg. Here he became acquainted 
 with Mr. Sievsking, a most liberal and benevolent man, and a 
 great admirer of La Fayette; he undertook to assist Bollman in 
 his enterprise, and gave him a letter of introduction, and also 
 
 6-8 
 
538 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 a letter of credit for 10,000 florins on Hirsch, a banker at 
 Olmulz. 
 
 Bollman, having by his conduct excited suspicions among the 
 police, he was advised by Hirsch to leave Olmutz, and go to 
 Vienna for the present. Here he became acquainted with 
 Francis Huger, an American, son of Colonel Huger of Charles- 
 ton, South Carolina, who was the first man that received La 
 Fayette on his arrival in the United States, in 1777. Young 
 Huger was active, generous, and brave; and the admiration 
 which every American feels for La Fayette, in him was increased 
 from the circumstance of his being the personal friend of his 
 father. These circumstances induced Bollman to confide hii 
 intentions to Huger, and to solicit his assistance. The proposi- 
 tion was assented to with enthusiam by the young American, who 
 declared that his purse and his blood should be devoted to so 
 honourable and meritorious an enterprise. They left Vienna 
 with a faithful servant, all on horseback, and traversed the sur- 
 rounding country, under the pretence that Huger, being unwell, 
 was travelling for his health with his physician. They examined 
 the roads in various directions, and particularly the great road 
 leading from Olmutz to Trappau. 
 
 The illustrious prisonerwas guarded with the greatest possible 
 strictness — how then could they communicate with him? This 
 was a difficult point; but by means of the banker and one thou- 
 sand florins, they engaged in their interest the head surgeon of 
 the garrison through whose assistance they opened a communi- 
 cation with La Fayette. The surgeon asked permission to 
 make a medical visit to the prisoners, and in that way conveyed 
 to La Fayette a note, which informed him that several of his 
 friends had arrived with the intention of effecting his escape, 
 and advising him to feign indisposition, and to request the jailer 
 that he might have the assistance of a medica ' gentleman. This 
 note was the first La Fayette had received since he had been 
 at Olmutz, and was read with great eagerness; he wrote an 
 answer on the back with his blood, and returned it through the 
 hand of the doctor. 
 
 After the feigned sickness of La Fayette had continued for 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 539 
 
 some time, his physician represented to the governor of Olmutz, 
 that it was necessary to his recovery, that he should ride without 
 the walls of the place, in an open carriage, to take the fresh air. 
 This advice was reduced to writing, and the reasons for it 
 assigned; and the intendant made a certificate in confirmation 
 of this statement. These documents being sent to Vienna, the 
 desired permission was obtained, accompanied with the injunc- 
 tion that the governor should always accompany the prisoner in 
 person, and a strong guard to prevent his escape. For several 
 weeks La Fayette daily rode out with the governor, and by his 
 prepossessing manners succeeded in attaching the governor very 
 much to him. 
 
 The plan being matured and the arragements completed, the 
 27th of October was fixed on, as the day for carrying into execu- 
 tion their bold enterprise. Bollman and Huger mounted their 
 horses at the hour the governor and his prisoner were to take 
 their accustomed ride, and not either of them being known to 
 La Fayette, as the carriage passed them, whilst riding very slow, 
 they took out a white handkerchief, which was a signal agreed 
 upon, and La Fayette did the same. When the carriage had 
 arrived at the place designated, the general made some pretence 
 for advancing some distance beyond the governor; at the same 
 moment, Bollman and Huger spurred their horses forward, and 
 as they came up with La Fayette, Huger sprang off to assist 
 him to mount behind Bollman; but before this was effected, the 
 governor, notwithstanding his age and infirmities, came up and 
 seized the general by the arm as he was mounting, and one 
 of the guards approached and seized him behind. Huger 
 seizing the guard by the hair, threw him on the ground, and told 
 La Fayette to make his escape with Bollman. But before he 
 could do this, he had a severe struggle with the guard and the 
 old governor; in attempting to thrust his handkerchief into the 
 mouth of the former to stifle his cries for help, the general had 
 two fingers severely bit, and in extricating them, the skin and 
 flesh was torn away and left in the mouth of the guard. In the 
 scuffle which ensued, Huger's horse took fright and fled into the 
 fields. The general having cleared himself, was coming to the 
 
540 L^IARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 assistance of Huger, but was entreated by the latter, to mounf 
 instantly behind Bollman and fly, and that he would take care 
 of himself. The general having mounted, Bollman rode off at 
 full speed. Huger made his escape into a thicket, but was soon 
 pursued and taken by a peasant, being much exhausted; his 
 hands were tied and he was taken back to town, where he was 
 immediately put in irons and thrown into prison. 
 
 Bollman and the general had not gone three miles before they 
 heard the report of the alarm-guns of the fortress. The police 
 in Austria is so strict, that when a prisoner escapes, or a soldier 
 deserts, three alarm-guns are fired, which is the signal for the 
 mayors and municipal officers of the neighboring towns, as far 
 as the report is heard, to close the town gates, and cause the 
 alarm-bells to be rung, which are heard from one village to 
 another, by which means the alarm is spread to the distance of • 
 fifty or sixty miles. The cavalry is despatched in pursuit, and 
 all the inhabitants, who are organized into a kind of militia, are 
 obliged on heavy penalties to meet at appointed places, where 
 they receive arms and instructions. By these means, the alarm, 
 and intelligence of the escape of a prisoner, had been spread to 
 a great distance. Notwithstanding these measures, La Fayette 
 and Bollman proceeded safely eleven miles: here Bollman was 
 at a loss which road to take ; after some hesitation he took the 
 wrong one, which was uneven and rough; the horse being fa- 
 tigued, stumbled and threw both of them off, several times, at 
 one of which La Fayette received a severe contusion; it was 
 extremely dark, and they had advanced about three miles on the 
 road they were travelling, when Bollman being satisfied they 
 were wrong, they concluded to return; at this time a patrolling 
 party came up and took them into custody, without, however, 
 knowing who they were. They were confined in a barn, with 
 a guard that night, and the next morning were taken before the 
 mayor of Braunseifer. Perceiving that there was no other re- 
 source, Bollman informed the mayor that his companion was the 
 great and good La Fayette, whom he had assisted to escape, and 
 entreated him to save the general, offering him all the gold he 
 bad about him, besides bills of exchange to the amount of 20,000 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 541 
 
 florins, and telling him, that La Fayette would promise him one 
 hundred thousand more, if he desired them: and added, that he 
 had brought La Fayette into that situation, and ought to be re- 
 sponsible for its consequences, and that he would remain a pri- 
 soner. Mr. Richter, the mayor, was a benevolent man, and had 
 great veneration for La Fayette, but dared not assume the re- 
 sponsibility of permitting him to escape. Soon the aid-de-camp 
 of the governor arrived, with orders for the prisoners to be con- 
 ducted back to Olmutz, and both were thrown into prison. 
 
 La Fayette was put in irons, and subjected to the most rigor- 
 ous confinement, the most severe suffering. No light was admit- 
 ted into his cell, shackles were placed on his feet, and an iron 
 round his waist, to which a chain was fastened and secured to 
 the wall, with sufficient length barely to permit him to turn from 
 one side to the other; his bed consisted of a little damp and 
 mouldy straw. He had suffered severely from fatigue and the 
 bruises he had received in attempting to escape, which, with the 
 unspeakable anxiety and anguish he felt on finding himself again 
 in the hands of his tormentors, brought on a violent fever. The 
 winter was severe, but his jailors did not relax the severity of 
 his treatment, but increased his sufferings as his constitution 
 seemed to sink under them, so that it appeared as if it was their 
 object to put an end to the existence of their victim. He was 
 emaciated almost to a skeleton, and the hair fell frcm his head. 
 His mind was, at the same time, filled with anxiety, and the 
 deepest concern for the fate of his wife and children, of whom 
 he had obtained no other information but that they had been 
 confined in the prisons of Paris. .To fill the measure of his af- 
 flictions, his inhuman jailers informed him that his generous 
 friends, Bollman and Huger, were soon to be brought to a public 
 execution, and expiate their enormous crime on the scaffold. 
 In this state of rigorous confinement and suffering he remained 
 for several months, when, from the influence of his friends, the 
 Jewish banker and the chief surgeon, who had not been sus- 
 pected of aiding in his escape, his irons were taken off, and he 
 was permitted to walk before the front of the prison, attended 
 by a strong guard, but no one was allowed to speak to him. 
 
.">42 JMARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 Bollman and Huger suffered a cruel imprisonment for their 
 patriotic attempt to rescue La Fayette, in the same building with 
 him ; but each were confined in a separate cell, and they were 
 not permitted to have any communication with each other: they 
 however devised and practised several ingenious modes of com- 
 municating with each other, which afforded them much satisfac- 
 tion, and escaped the scrutiny of their jailers. At length Boll- 
 man and Huger were brought to trial, and were first sentenced 
 to imprisonment for life; which was commuted to a term of 
 years, and finally they were offered their liberty on the payment 
 of a large sum of money to the government, which, by the help 
 of friends, they raised, and were accordingly released. 
 
 The fate of Madame La Fayette does not less demand our 
 sympathies, or even admiration, than that of her illustrious hus- 
 band. On the flight of La Fayette, she and her two daughters, 
 one fifteen and the other twelve, were seized and cast into pri- 
 son at Paris. The family estate was confiscated, and most of 
 the political and personal friends of her husband were crushed 
 by the Mountain,* and fell under the stroke of the guillotine. 
 For twenty months, she and her daughters suffered this degra- 
 ding imprisonment: during a reign of anarchy and* terror, daily 
 hearing of the death of her friends, anxious about her own fate, 
 and still more about her husband's. She bore her severe and 
 complicated distresses, with great firmness and fortitude: repo- 
 sing when all earthly succour seemed to have failed, on Divine 
 Providence, she was often found in a retired part of her prison, 
 with uplifted hands and holy supplications to that Being who 
 holds in his hands the destinies of man. When she was libera- 
 ted, from the feeble state of her health, she was advised by her 
 physicians to seek repose in some retired part of the country ; but 
 in opposition to this advice, and the entreaties of her friends, she 
 resolved to repair to Olmutz, and if she could not procure the 
 liberation of her husband, to share in his imprisonment. She 
 went first to Vienna, and through the influence and assistance 
 of two noble females, obtained an audience with the Em 
 
 * The violent party was called the Mountain Party. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 643 
 
 percr. His majesty received her graciously, and expressed a 
 personal desire that her husband should be set at liberty ; but 
 said the subject was too complicated for him to interfere with it, 
 and that he could not do it, consistent with his political engage- 
 ments with other powers. He was graciously pleased, however, 
 to permit her to visit her husband, and share in his captivity. 
 This, with her two daughters, she immediately did, whose pre- 
 sence spread a ray of light in the gloom of the dungeon, and 
 rendered the most cruel imprisonment tolerable. It is impossible 
 even to conceive of the joy which La Fayette experienced on 
 receiving his beloved wife and daughters, or the consolation 
 which she administered to him in his affliction! Of women it 
 is truly said — 
 
 "When pain and sickness cloud the brow 
 
 A ministering angel thou!" 
 
 And of no one could this be more true than of Madame La Fay- 
 ette, who was one of the best and most sensible of women. For 
 nearly two years she and her two daughters remained in prison. 
 At one time, her health being much impaired, she asked permis- 
 sion to visit Vienna for a week: and was informed that her re- 
 quest would be granted, provided she would consent never to 
 enter the prison again, and to have her daughters confined in a 
 separate apartment from their father. The base offer was de- 
 clined with becoming spirit, in a letter which concludes with 
 the following dignified language: "Whatever may be the state 
 of my own health, and the inconvenience attending the stay of 
 my daughters in this place, we will most gratefully take advan- 
 tage of the goodness his imperial majesty has expressed towards 
 us, by permission to share in the miseries of this captivity. 
 
 La Fayette, his wife, and 'daughters, and his two friends, 
 were all discharged on the 25th of August, 1797, for which 
 they were indebted to General Bonaparte. The victorious 
 general peremptorily insisted on the liberation of the prisoners 
 of Olmutz, as a preliminary condition to peace. He inquired 
 if the prisoners at Olmutz were free, and as the ambassadors 
 hesitated in a reply, he observed, with great warmth, — "Gentle- 
 men, you may take my word for it, that if these prisoners are 
 
544 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 not instantly set free, I sign no treaty of peace with his imperial 
 majesty." He was obliged, however, to despatch one of his 
 aids to Vienna to demand of the emperor himself the liberation 
 of his prisoners, which was accompanied with a threat, that if 
 it was not immediately done, lie would march to the capital and 
 throw open the prison doors himself. Such was the reluc- 
 tance of the emperor to give up his victims; but he was obliged 
 to yield to the conquerer: the prisoners were discharged, and 
 soon after, the celebrated treaty of Campo Formio was con- 
 cluded. 
 
 The emperor prescribed several conditions to the liberation 
 of La Fayette, one of which was, that he should leave Europe 
 immediately for America ; and another that he should never set 
 his foot on the Austrian territory without special permission, as 
 his principles were dangerous to the Austrian government. The 
 general replied, that although it was his wish and intention to go 
 to America, yet he could not consent to such a condition, as that 
 would be recognising the right of his majesty to impose it; and 
 as to his never entering the Austrian dominions, he owed certain 
 obligations, both to France and America, of which he could not 
 divest himself, and he should enter into no engagements which 
 might interfere with the rights of his native or adopted country 
 to his personal services. With these exceptions, he would assure 
 his majesty that it was his determination never again to set his 
 foot on the territory of the emperor. 
 
 L# Fayette, with his family and his two friends, who had been 
 his fellow-sutferers, after being liberated, proceeded to the neutral 
 city of Hamburg, where they were received and treated with 
 great attention by a number of distinguished Americans and 
 the French minister, who gave them a public entertainment. 
 Here they put on the tri-coloured cockade, to show that they 
 were not emigrants, but friends to their country and the principles 
 of '89. After a few days stay they accepted the invitation of a 
 Hanoverian nobleman, and spent some time at his chateau in 
 Holstein. Previous to this, they were joined by George Wash- 
 ington La Fayette, who had arrived from America, where he 
 had spent considerable time at Mount Vernon. This rendered 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 345 
 
 the family complete, and consummated their happiness. At the 
 mansion of his noble friend, the general's eldest daughter, An- 
 astatia, was married to Latour Maubourg, brother of the pri-, 
 soner of that name, who had been one of La Fayette's aids-de- 
 camp. The celebration was in a plain and simple style, which 
 best accorded with the truly republican ideas of La Fayette. 
 George Washington La Fayette, in 1795, went to the United 
 States. He landed at Boston, and immediately wrote to Wash- 
 ington, then president, acquainting him with his situation, and 
 requesting his advice, as the friend of his father. General La 
 Fayette then being proscribed by the government of France, 
 and as an unfriendly disposition had already been manifested 
 by the directory towards the United States, the president felt 
 constrained to decline interfering officially in behalf of the son 
 of the illustrious friend of America. He however wrote a 
 private letter to the Honorable George Cabot, requesting him 
 to acquaint young La Fayette with the reasons why he could 
 not officially interfere in his behalf, and at the same time to as- 
 sure him that he might consider him as a father, and rely on his 
 protection and assistance. He also advised to have him enter 
 the university at Cambridge, and told Mr. C. that he would 
 see the expenses paid. But young Fayette did not avail him- 
 self of this offer, as the private tutor, who had accompanied 
 him, wished to have him under his sole instruction. 
 
 General La Fayette and his family, including his son-in-law, 
 went from the house of his Hanoverian friend to the chateau 
 of the Count de Tesse, one of the French emigrants, and who 
 had married the sister of Madame La Fayette's mother. Being 
 unable to return to his country, he remained in this retreat, in 
 the mansion of his uncle, for a considerable time, and amused 
 himself with studying the agriculture of the country, particu- 
 larly the raising of merino sheep, in which the inhabitants of 
 Holstein excel, and to which afterward he very successfuly 
 turned his attention at La Grange. 
 
 In this situation, La Fayette remained, happy in the enjoy- 
 ment of his family and friends, until the revolution of the 18th 
 ■of Bjrunaaire, (Nov. 10, 1799,) which established the consufetr 
 69 
 
546 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTt 
 
 •onstitution, and placed Napoleon Bonaparte at the head of 
 the government. Among the first acts of the new government, 
 was a proclamation, inviting all emigrants and other French 
 citizens, to return, and assuring them of protection. La Fay- 
 ette and his family immediately returned to France, after an 
 absence of nearly eight years, and with his son-in-law Mau- 
 bourg, soon after visited Paris. 
 
 The first Consul, to give splendor and support to the new 
 government, intended to draw around hrm all who had been 
 distinguished in the held or in the cabinet, during the revolu- 
 tion, and among the rest General La Fayette was invited to 
 the Thuilleries. La Fayette admired the youthful genius of 
 Bonaparte, and the astonishing victories he had achieved, which 
 had saved France, and cast a lustre on the French name; he 
 also felt grateful to him for the services rendered to himself. 
 An interview took place between these two distinguished char- 
 acters, which convinced Bonaparte that the patriot of two revo- 
 lutions was too inflexible in his principles to become an instru- 
 ment of his ambition. He did not, however, immediately relin- 
 quish his design of availing himself of the name and reputation of 
 La Fayette, by inducing him to take a part in the new government. 
 He retained him in the office of general of division, and offered 
 him a seat in his conservative senate. To this office, there was 
 a salary of 7000 dollars, which would have been very accepta- 
 ble to La Fayette, as his income was now reduced to about two 
 thousand dollars, which had been thirty thousand at the com- 
 mencement of the revolution. But being satisfied that it was 
 the intention of the First Consul to establish a military gov- 
 ernment, of which he was to be the chief, and that the conser- 
 vative senate, and the constitution itself, were only empty forms, 
 intended to give more security and stability to the power of Bo- 
 naparte, La Fayette did not hesitate to decline the offer, al- 
 though strenuously urged to accept of it by his friends. With 
 this office would have been connected that of count of the em 
 pire. He preferred to remain in retirement, and forego the ad- 
 vantages of so honorable and lucrative a station, to any com- 
 promise with principle, or placing himself in a situation which 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 54* 
 
 might cast a suspicion on his political integrity, or occasion even 
 a doubt as to the sincerity of his devotion to liberal principles 
 and free institutions. Such noble and disinterested sentiments; 
 such political consistency, firmness and integrity, if not wholly 
 unparalleled, was without any example, on that occasion except 
 the case of the celebrated Carnot. 
 
 The first Consul did not, however, entirely abandon the idea 
 of obtaining the approbation, if not the support of La Fayette j 
 and previously to his election as consul for life, he invited him 
 to the Thuilleries, and a remarkable interview took place be- 
 tween them. Napoleon ordered every one to retire, and com- 
 mencing a conversation on the subject, attempted to show that a 
 permanent magistracy was necessary for the security and happi- 
 ness of France. General La Fayette boldlv replied, that "be- 
 fore venturing on such a step, France expects of you a guaran- 
 tee of her liberties; when they are satisfied on this score, they 
 will comply with your wishes unasked." In conformity to the 
 sentiments disclosed on this occasion, his vote was expressed in 
 the following words ; — "I cannot vote for such a magistracy, 
 until the liberties of the people are secured ; in that case, I vote 
 for Napoleon Bonaparte." In further explanation of his views 
 and motives, he addressed to the First Consul the following noble 
 and independent sentiments: 
 "General, — 
 
 " When a man, who is deeply impressed with a sense of the 
 gratitude he owes you, and who is too ardent a lover of glory 
 to be wholly indifferent to yours, connects his suffrage with con- 
 ditional restrictions, those restrictions not only secure him from 
 suspicion, but prove amply, that no one will, more gladly than 
 himself, behold in you the chief magistrate for life, of a free and 
 independent republic. 
 
 "The eighteenth of Brumaire saved France from destruction; 
 and I felt myself reassured and recalled by the liberal declara- 
 tions to which you have connected the sanction of your honor. 
 In your consular authority, there was afterward discerned that 
 salutary dictatorial prerogative, which, under the auspices of a 
 genius like yours, accomplished such glorious purposes; yet, less 
 
548 MAHQUIS DE LA FAYETTE- 
 
 glorious, let me add, than the restoration of liberty woulcj 
 proT e. , 
 
 " It is not possible, general, that you, the first amidst that order 
 of mankind, which surveys every age and every country, before 
 the stations of its members in the scale can be determined, that 
 you can desire that a revolution, marked by an unexampled 
 series of stupendous victories and unheard of sufferings, shall 
 give nothing to the world but a renovated system of arbitrary 
 government. The people of this country have been acquainted 
 with their rights too long, to forget them forever; but perhaps 
 they may recover and enjoy them better now, than during the 
 period of revolutionary effervescence. And you, by the strength 
 of your character, and the influence of public confidence, by 
 the superiority of your talents, your power, and your fortunes, 
 in re-establisbing the liberties of France, can allay all agita- 
 tions, calm all anxieties, and subdue all dangers. 
 
 "When I wish, then, to see the career of your glory crowned 
 by thetionors of perpetual magistracy, I but act in correspon- 
 dence with my own private sentiments, and am influenced ex- 
 clusively by patriotic considerations. But all my political and 
 moral obligations, the" principles that have governed every ac- 
 tion of my life, call on me to pause, before I bestow on you my 
 suffrage, until I feel assured that your authority shall be erected 
 on a basis worthy of the nation and yourself. 
 
 "I confidently trust, General, that you will recognise here, a? 
 you have done on all other occasions, a steady continuance of 
 my political opinions, combined with the sincerest prayers for 
 your welfare, and the deepest sense of all my obligations to 
 you." 
 
 This letter, which was not answered, closed all intercourse 
 between Bonaparte and General La Fayette; and they did not 
 see each other until after the wonderful restoration of the em- 
 peror, in June, 1815. These two distinguished individuals 
 were not kindred spirits, or in any 'degree assimilated in their 
 characters; and their objects were entirely different. One, in- 
 fluenced by an unbounded ambition, aimed at unlimited power, 
 Upt so much for his own aggranuizement as for the execution oi 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE, 549 
 
 great and magnificent plans; he wished to concentrate every 
 thing in himself, and to be the source and fountain of power, 
 the arbiter of the destinies of France, and to hold in his own 
 hands the guarantees of the rights and liberties of the people. 
 The other possessed a more exalted, rational, and philisophic 
 ambition. He aspired only at the honorable fame and distinc- 
 tion of rendering the most important services to the human race, 
 and from the most disinterested motives; he wished to be the 
 first of patriots, and the first of heroes, in defence of the rights 
 and liberties of the people. One aimed at sovereignty in his 
 own person, the other wished to establish the sovereignty of the 
 people. Their principles and views were directly opposite, 
 although both were opposed to the reign of anarchy and vio- 
 lence, and were for giving vigor and energy to the laws on 
 which the security of personal liberty and private property de- 
 pends. 
 
 After the event which we have noticed, Bonaparte mani- 
 fested decided hostility to La Fayette, and, on all occasions, 
 treated him with the. most studied neglect. But it was in vain 
 that he attempted to impair the respect or lessen the conse- 
 quence of the veteran patriot of two revolutions; the constant, 
 undeviating, and incorruptible friend of liberty. Not the eclat 
 of splendid victories, the glory of conquest, or all the gorgeous 
 pageantry of the imperial court, could cast into the shade the 
 illustrious name of La Fayette, although a private citizen, and 
 living in retirement. 
 
 The hostility of Napoleon was not confined to the general, 
 but extended \p all who bore the name (the most illustrious in 
 France) of La Fayette ; to all who were connected with the fam- 
 ily, and even the particular friends of the Marquis. Perhaps 
 there is nothing more dishonorable in the character of Bona- 
 parte, than his treatment of the La Fayette family. George 
 Washington La Fayette, the only son of the general, was a 
 brave and excellent officer; he was general of division; Gen. 
 Grouchy appointed him his aid; he was distinguished on many 
 occasions, and particularly at the battle of Eylau, where he 
 saved the life of Grouchy twice, his horse being killed undet 
 
•N>U \IA114UIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 him. His general made a very favorable report of his conduct, and 
 recommended him very warmly for promotion; yet the emperor 
 instead of promoting him, struck his name out of the official 
 bulletin. But notwithstanding the unworthy treatment he 
 received, he continued in the service, from the commencement of 
 the consular government, in 1800, until after the peace of Tilsit. 
 It was attempted at one time, to persuade him to resign, but he 
 nobly replied "that so long as his country was involved in war, 
 he should consider himself disgraced by a resignation, and that 
 he should be ashamed even to think of it, while all his compan- 
 ions were daily exposing themselves to dangers of every sort." It 
 was true he was an American citizen, but he was first of all a 
 Frenchman, and a loyal Frenchman. 
 
 Gen. La Fayette's son-in-law, De Lasteyrie, who married 
 his second daughter Virginia, was also a meritorious officer, and 
 was treated with the same neglect by Bonaparte , and this was 
 likewise the case with the two former aids of General La 
 Fayette. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 He remains in retirement at La Grange— Situation of La Grange — His family 
 and descendants — fie employs himself in agricultural pursuits — Loses his 
 wife — Napoleon, after his return from Elba, attempts to obtain his influence- 
 He protests again«t the additonal act — Is elected representative to the cham- 
 ber — His speech and resolutions after the defeat of the Emperor — Is one of 
 *ho committee who attend the grand council of ministers, and one of the 
 commissioners to treat with the allies — Capitulation of Paris — He retires to 
 La Grange — Is elected a representative after the restoration of the Bourbons. 
 
 After the appointment of Napoleon consul for life, from 
 which time he manifested a strong dislike to La Fayette, who 
 had voted against his election, the latter lived in retirement at 
 his estate of La Grange, situated in the province of Brie, forty 
 miles from Paris, engaged in the pursuits of agriculture; a spec- 
 tator of political events, tranquil and happy, in the midst of his 
 numerous and interesting family. What vicissitudes in the life 
 - >f an individual! and how extraordinary, that one o{ the most 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 551 
 
 illustrious men of the age, in the prime of life, should remain 
 for years in retirement during the most eventful period the world 
 has ever witnessed, when Europe was convulsed to its centre, and 
 which embraced two mighty revolutions, affecting the whole 
 continent: one the establishment of anew system of monarchy^ 
 and a new order of things, by the Emperor Napoleon ; and the 
 other, in the complete over throw of that system, and the re-es- 
 tablishment of the old regime and the Bourbon dynasty; and 
 that individual, the first and principal promoter of that political 
 revolution, which, in its progress, had led to these momentous 
 events, and at one time possessed of an unbounded popularity, 
 and commander-in-chief of the armies of France. He was 
 not, however, an unobservant spectator of passing events, or 
 indifferent to the welfare of his country; but whilst that country 
 was no longer free, his principles and his honour required of him 
 to remain in retirement. With him the post of honour was only 
 to be found in a private station. 
 
 " La Grange is situated in the fertile district of La Brie 
 forty miles from Paris, remote from any common road, and far 
 distant from a bustling world. In the midst of a luxuriant, 
 wilderness, rising above prolific orchards and antiquated woods, 
 appears the five towers of La Grange, tinged with the golden 
 rays of the declining sun. The deep moat, the draw-bridge, 
 the ivied tower and arched portals, opening into a large square 
 court, has a feudal and picturesque character; and the associa- 
 tions which occur, on entering the residence of a man so heroic* 
 so disinterested, so celebrated, fill the mind with peculiar admi 
 ration, and excite the most lively interest. The family party, 
 partaking more of patriarchal than of courtly manners, is com- 
 posed of individaals mutually attached, and anxious only for 
 mutual improvement and happiness. It represents the younger 
 members, as employed in their studies or engaged in innocent 
 recreations so salutary to the youthful temper and constitution: 
 and the older as occupied in useful and literary pursuits, or 
 devoted to the more enlivening pleasures of conversation. 
 
 " The venerable head of this happy family, at the age of sixty- 
 seven is in the full possession of every talent and faculty. Hi- 
 
552 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 memory has all the tenacity of youthful recollection. On hid 
 person, time has yet made little visible impression. Not a 
 wrinkle furrows the ample brow; and his unbent and noble 
 fignre is still as upright, bold, and vigorous, as the mind which 
 informs it. Grace, strength, and dignity still distinguish the 
 tine person of this extraordinary man; who, though more than 
 forty-years before the world, engaged in scenes of stnyige and 
 eventful conflict, does not yet appear to have reached his grand 
 climacteric. Active on his farm, graceful and elegant in his 
 sa/oon, it is difficult to trace, in one of the most successful 
 agriculturalists, and one of. the most perfect of fine gen. 
 tlemen of France, a warrior, and a legislator. But the 
 patriot is always discernable. His conversation is enriched 
 with anecdotes of all that is celebrated in character or event, 
 for the last fifty years. His elegant and well chosen collection 
 of books, occupies the highest apartments in one of the towers 
 of the chateau; and like the study of Montaigne, hangs over the. 
 the farm-yard of the philosophical agriculturalist. * It frequently 
 happens,' said M. La Fayette, to one of his visiters, as they 
 were looking from a window on some flocks, which were moving 
 beneath, 'that my merinos and my hay-carts dispute my attention 
 to Hume or Voltaire.' " 
 
 The practice in Europe, particularly with the landed nobility 
 and gentry, is very different from that which prevails in the 
 United States. Here the paternal home becomes the home of 
 one of a man's descendants only, and the family estate is given 
 to him, or divided among several heirs: the members of the 
 game family, and descendants of the same ancestors, are scattered 
 over the country; one remains in the paternal mansion, one goes 
 to seek his fortune at the south, and becomes a planter on the 
 banks of the Mississippi; another emigrates to the west, and 
 settles on the borders of the Ohio or the Maumee; and perhaps 
 a fourth becomes a successful merchant in some large seaport. 
 But in Europe the paternal chateau frequently becomes the 
 home of all the descendants of the owner, and his whole poster- 
 ity, children, children-in-law, grand-children, and great-grand- 
 children, all reside under the same roof with himself. He 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 553 
 
 becomes the patriarch of a numerous race, which forms a com- 
 munity of themselves. This practice is not favorable to enter- 
 prise, but there is something very agreeable in it, and conducive 
 to social happiness. 
 
 At La Grange are found all the descendants of La Fayette t 
 who is the venerable head and patriarch of the interesting 
 groupe. He has three children: — George Washington La Fay- 
 ette, who was married in 1803, and has five children, Oscar, 
 Edmund, Natalia, Matilda, and Clementina; the eldest daughter 
 is twenty years of age, and a favorite of* her grand-father. This, 
 the only son of the general, is now with him in the Uuited 
 States. His eldest daughter, Anastasie, as we have already 
 mentioned, was married to Charles Latour Maubourg, brother 
 of the companion of the general in his misfortunes, of that name : 
 they have three daughters, Louisie, Jenny, and Mrs. Brigode, 
 the latter of which is married, and has two daughters, named 
 Georgiannia aud Gabriella. Virginia La Fayette, rH second 
 daughter, married M. de Lasteyrie, who served with his broth- 
 er-in-law George, in several campaigns, and was distinguished at 
 Jena, Eylau, and Friedland; Mrs. Lasteyrie has three daughters 
 and one son, Paulina, Melaire, Octavina, and Jules. 
 
 All these descendants, to the third generation, reside at the 
 hospitable mansion of La Grange, and it is said are principally 
 dependent on the income of that estate for support. 
 
 The spacious chateau has not only apartments for five families, 
 that of the father, son, two sons-in-law, and grand-son-in-law; 
 but there is also an apartment for M. de Maubourg, the compan- 
 ion and fellow-prisoner with the general, and others for a 
 brother and two sisters of the same family. 
 
 In this retired situation, these several families, the descendants 
 of the illustrious patriot who is their patriarchal chief, live in a 
 quiet, agreeable, and simple manner; contented and happy in the 
 enjoyment of each other, neither caring for, nor disturbed by the 
 turbulentpleasuresof the world. Noisy dissipation, splendid equi- 
 page, and corrupting luxury,are strangers at this favourite abode 
 of peace and innocence, and rural simplicity. Business and amuse- 
 ments divide their attention, and afford sufficient occupation. 
 
 70 
 
554 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE 
 
 " Little rnral balls are frequently given in the park, in the 
 midst of the honest farmers and peasants of the neighborhood, 
 and plays are performed daily by both old and young members 
 of the family, in the open air. 
 
 "Early in the morning, every one is occupied in his own apart- 
 ment, where a servant brings him coffee, chocolate, or tea; 
 scarcely an individual makes his appearance in the saloon, till 
 ten or eleven o'clock. The utmost quiet and silence reigns 
 throughout the chateau until this time. Then all the families 
 meet together at breakfast, and the delightful prattle of the 
 children is amusingly contrasted with the kind and constant 
 attention of their parents. Eacn mother is surrounded by her 
 little ones, the fathers assist in taking care of them, and the 
 grandfather presides over the whole. 
 
 " After breakfast each one retires till 5 o'clock, when dinner 
 is brought up ; the families again meet, converse, laugh, sing, and 
 dance, ^ery one amusing himself according to his age and 
 taste."* 
 
 In this felicitous retirement, the distinguished patriot and 
 philanthropist, who is the subject of this memoir, has lived sur- 
 rounded by his numerous descendants, with patriarchal simpli- 
 city and happiness, since 1800. He has frequented no places 
 of amusement, and had little intercourse with the world, he has 
 lived like an intelligent and independent agriculturalist, and 
 exhibiting the bright example of a public man, content with a 
 moderate income, free from all envious and angry feelings; and 
 willing to live in dignified silence when he had not the power or 
 influence to do good. He has spent his time in the cultivation 
 of his farm, in study, and answering the letters of his numerous 
 correspondents, and in the enjoyment of the society of his family 
 and many friends who visit La Grange. He has been a skilful 
 and scientific agriculturalist, and that agreeable employment 
 has afforded him much satisfaction, whilst it has been the source 
 of the support of his large family. His flock of merino have 
 afforded him both profit and pleasure, and he has been very 
 
 *Gencral Holsteiu's Memoirs of La Fayette. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 5o5 
 
 successful in breeding them, having made himself acquainted 
 with the subject when residing in Holstein. "My dear friend," 
 said he to one of his visiters, "you cannot conceive how much 
 pleasure I enjoy in watching the yearly growth of this fine flock: 
 do you know that each fleece will give me twelve francs, and 
 that I get two shearings every year?" To another visiter he 
 observed, " That his merinos and his hay carts often disputed 
 his attention to Hume or Voltaire." Most of the distinguished 
 American and English travellers in France, visit La Grange. 
 
 In the year 1 802, the celebrated Charles James Fox, the distin- 
 guished British orator and statesman, and General Filzpatrick, 
 also a distinguished member of parliament, visited La Grange. 
 As we have' already stated, these two distinguished men, exerted 
 all their powerful eloquence in the house of commons, when La 
 Fayette was incarcerated in the prisons of Olmutz, to induce the 
 British government to interfere for his liberation. Although 
 their efforts were not successful, they were not the less honorable to 
 them, or the less calculated to excite the gratitude of La Fayette. 
 General Fitzpatrick had known La Fayette in America, and 
 admired his character and principles. The union of these three 
 distinguished patriots and philanthropists, after the momentous 
 events they had witnessed, and in many of which, acted a distin- 
 guished part, was highly gratifying to themselves, and a 
 pleasing sight to the friends of liberty. " I have often," says 
 the writer who gives an account of this interview, "contemplated 
 with great pleasure, Mr. Fox, General Fitzpatrick, and M. de 
 La Fayette, walking in the long shady grove near the chateau, 
 .speaking of past times, the war in America, and the revolution 
 in France. The rare sight of three such characters, was grate- 
 ful to anyone who felt friendly to the cause of civil liberty, and 
 valued men for their services to humanity, rather than for 
 successful ambition." 
 
 Among the numerous visiters to La Grange, was lady Morgan, 
 who, in her " France," gives a very interesting account of her 
 visit to this hospitable seat, which the virtue and renown of its 
 present owner will render celebrated for ever: and of the 
 numerous inmates of the venerable chateau. 
 
;>5li MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE 
 
 In 1807, General La Fayette was affected with a dome>ti< 
 calamity, which more sorely affected his heajt than the sufferings 
 of six years imprisonment. The imprisonment of Madame La 
 Fayette at Paris, and her voluntary confinement in the damp 
 and unwholesome dungeons of Olmutz, had undermined her 
 constitution, and she never enjoyed perfect health afterward; 
 but her fortitude, patience, equanimity, and sociableness of 
 temper, were not impaired with her health, and enabled iier to 
 contribute to the happiness of her husband and family. In 
 December this virtuous and distinguished woman, fell a victim to 
 the barbarous persecutions of her husband, in which her affection 
 and fidelity led her to be a voluntary sharer. The same winter^ 
 General La Fayette had the misfortune to fall and break his 
 leg, which confined him to his bed, and without being able to 
 change his position for nearly six months, during which he 
 suffered severe pain. This is the cause of his present lameness. 
 
 The dreadful struggle in which France was engaged with the 
 combined forces of all the powers of Europe, did not call the 
 patriot of La Grange from his retreat: it is not to be supposed, 
 however, that he did not feel great anxiety for the impending, 
 fate of his country ; as much as he disliked the disposition of 
 Bonaparte, he was evidently opposed to the restoration of the 
 Bourbons, as they intended to seize upon the cpownas their own 
 right, by the aid of one million of foreign bayonets, and to re-es- 
 tablish the absolute power of the monarchy and the old regime, 
 as far as it could be done, and thus destroy all the fruits of the 
 revolution. He visited Louis but once in 1814, after his resto- 
 ration, and although well received, he did not repeat the visit. — 
 Whilst others deeply stained with the crimes of the revolution, 
 and against the Bourbon family, offered their adhesion, and 
 changed as the political tune turned, he made no compromise of 
 principle, neither supplicated for favour, nor even expressed his 
 approbation of the re-establishment of the Bourbon throne. 
 
 That most marvellous event in the history of nations, the 
 return of Napoleon from Elba, the re-establishment of the 
 imperial throne, and the threatened invasion of France, with 
 more than a million of men, did not call him from his retirement. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 557 
 
 The emperor, knowing his influence with the friends of liberty, 
 endeavored to obtain his approbation ; he sent his brother Joseph 
 to invite General La Fayette to an interview with the emperor, 
 that he might judge for himself of the guarrantees proposed to 
 be offered to the French people. This invitation he declined. 
 
 Napoleon, on the 22d of April, with a view to conciliate the 
 nation, issued his Acte Additionet, or additional act, as he called 
 it, being an addition to the constitutions of 1799, 1802, and 1804, 
 which provided for the establishment of a chamber of repre- 
 sentatives to be elected by the elective colleges and an hereditary 
 chamber of peers. This act. was accepted by the French 
 people under the influence of existing circumstances; but it was 
 not satisfactory to La Fayette, who entered his solemn protest 
 against it, in the same spirit, and from the same considerations 
 that he did against the consulship for life. But the same college 
 of electors to which he presented his protest, notwithstanding, 
 first chose him their president, and then their representative.—*- 
 The emperor too, anxious to secure his influence, or at least his 
 silence, placed his name first on the list of peers; but true to 
 his principles, he declined this, and accepted of the situation of 
 representative. 
 
 General La Fayette and his son were both returned as depu- 
 ties to the chamber. The emperor used all his influence to pro. 
 cure one of the presidents of the departments of state, to be 
 chosen president of the chamber; but the votes were divided 
 between Lenjuinais and La Fayette, and after several ballots, 
 the former was chosen president and the latter vice-president. 
 
 During this short reign of one hundred days, La Fayette had 
 but little confidence in 'the emperor; he saw him for the first time> 
 at the opening of the session on the 7th of June. " It is above 
 twelve years since we have met," said Napoleon in a very kind 
 and affectionate manner. But this had no influence on La Fay- 
 ette. The defeat of the emperor at Waterloo, and his attempt, 
 and that of his personal friends, to prorogue the chamber, and 
 declare himself dictator, afforded a crisis which called forth all 
 the energies of the patriot of '89. Napoleon arrived at Paris, 
 on the night of the 20th of June, and confirmed all that had been 
 
558 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 feared as to the defeat of the army, and the critical situation of 
 the country. The chamber was thrown into great agitation, not 
 only from the approach of foreign armies, but from a report that 
 the emperor was about to dissolve the chamber; various propo- 
 sitions were moved and withdrawn, and no one seemed to know 
 what to do. At length the venerable patriot, La Fayette, arose, 
 ascended the tribune, and addressed the chamber — " This is the 
 first time that I have raised my voice within these walls, and I 
 feel the necessity of opening my whole soul to my colleagues. 
 In a time of public distress, the true friends of liber y will per- 
 haps recognise this voice which Jias always been raised in its de- 
 fence, and never has been mingled with the cries of faction. Our 
 armies have suffered a reverse, and our territory is threatened. 
 It is to you, representatives of the people, that it belongs to rally 
 the nation round the tri-coloured banner of 1789, that sacred 
 standard which is the signal of the revival of liberty, indepen- 
 dence, and public order. It is to you that it belongs to summon 
 the whole nation to the defence of its rights, its independence, 
 and its territory against foreign usurpation. A veteran of liberty, 
 and, I repeat it, a stranger to the spirit of faction, I am about to 
 propose to you those measures which our present critical circum- 
 stances imperiously require," 
 
 He then submitted the following propositions: — 
 
 " Article 1 — The chamber of representatives declare that 
 the independence of the nation is endangered. 
 
 "Article 2 — The chamber declare themselves in continued 
 session; that every attempt to prorogue the session shall be 
 considered high treason; that any one guilty of such attempt 
 shall be deemed a traitor to his country | and be instantly pro- 
 ceeded against as such. 
 
 " Article 3 — The army of the line and the national guards, 
 who have fought and are still fighting for the independence of 
 France, deserve the gratitude of their country. 
 
 "Article 4 — The Minister of the interior is requested to as. 
 semble the General Staff, the Commandants and Majors of the 
 Legions of the National Guards of Paris, to consult on the 
 means of supplying them with ar,ms, and to render complete 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 559 
 
 this citizen guard, whose patriotism and zeal having been proved 
 for twenty-six years, offer a sure guarrantee of the liberty, the 
 property, and the tranquility of the capitol, and of the inviola- 
 bility of the representatives of the nation. 
 
 '-'•Article 5 — The Ministers of War, those of Foreign Relations, 
 of the Interior, and of the Police, are invited to attend the 
 assembly immediately." 
 
 These resolutions were adopted with some slight alterations. 
 
 Gen. La Fayette had been informed by Regnault de St. Jean 
 d'Angely, and Thibaudeau, two of the emperor's council, who 
 were opposed to this violent measure, that it was the intention of 
 Napoleon immediately to dissolve the chamber. It was a great 
 crisis; either the emperor or the chamber must fall that day; 
 and the courage and influence of La Fayette decided this mo- 
 mentous question. The emperor was said to be greatly agita- 
 ted when he was informed that La Fayette was addressing the 
 chamber. "What," said he, "La Fayette in the tribune?" 
 He was greatly agitated and embarrassed from the measures 
 which had been adopted in the chamber; he hesitated nearly 
 the whole day what course to pursue, his friends were also di- 
 vided in their opinions; his courage and firmness seemed to have 
 forsaken him, and it is said that Lucien told him, "that the 
 smoke of the battle of Mount St. Jean had turned his brain." 
 It was finally decided to send Lucien and three of the ministers 
 to the chamber, in conformity to their resolution, to make a par- 
 tial exposition of the state of affairs. Bonaparte relied, prin- 
 cipally, on the eloquence of Lucien, to which he was indebted, 
 for success in the revolution of the 18th of Brumaire, to bring 
 the chamber into his views. It was past five o'clock in the 
 evening when the ministers and Lucien arrived; the appearance 
 of the latter occasioned loud murmurs; which, however, subsi- 
 ded on the house being informed by the president that he ap- 
 peared as the commissioner of the emperor. The ministers 
 made a partial exposition of the state of affairs, of the resources 
 of the nation, and of the hopes and projects they still enter- 
 tained. A short, but painful silence ensued, which was inter- 
 nipted by an animated debate, attended with great agitation. 
 
560 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 M. Duchene, and other members, (among whom was Mr. Jay, 
 who, twenty years ago, was well known in Boston, under the as- 
 sumed name of Renaud, as a teacher of the French language, 
 and a writer in the public newspapers,) took a hasty, but spirited 
 view of the alarming state of affairs, the impossibility of oppo- 
 sing the advance of the enemy, and concluded, by strongly ur- 
 ging, that, as the allies had refused to treat with the man at the 
 head of the government, it was a duty which the chamber owed 
 the nation, to insist on the unqualified abdication of the empe- 
 ror. This bold proposition had been apprehended, and to resist 
 which Lucien had attended the chamber. He had exhibited 
 great impatience and excitement during the discussion. His 
 situation was the most critical and trying; the power and politi- 
 cal existence of the emperor, and all the hopes, and obejcts de- 
 pending upon them, were confided to him, and depended on the 
 success of his efforts. He was sensible too, of the disposition of 
 the chamber, ar d of the alarm which prevailed among the mem- 
 bers. At length Lucien arose, and ascended the tribune, and 
 in the doubtful and gloomy light which two vast torches shed 
 through the hall, and over the anxious features of the members, 
 commenced a reply. Momentous as was the occasion, he was 
 found fully equal to it; he never before appeared equally pow- 
 erful, or poured forth such a strain of impassioned and vehe- 
 ment eloquence. It was a speech worthy the defence of a 
 throne and a dynasty. J'he scope of his argument was designed 
 to prove, that the pretensions of the allies, that their designs 
 were directed against the emperor, and not against France, were 
 deceptive and intended to delude the French people, and lead 
 to the subjugation of the nation; that the people of France 
 were still attached to the emperor; that momentous as was the 
 crisis, the resources of the country were adequate to its defence, 
 and that the genius and talents of the emperor were necessary 
 for this object. He insisted that the emperor was necessary to 
 the salvation of France, and that to separate him from the na- 
 tion, would be to deliver it up to their implacable -enemies. "It 
 is not Napoleon," he cried, "that is attacked, it is the French 
 people i and a proposition is now made to this people to abandon 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE, 561 
 
 their emperor; to expose the French nation before the tribunal 
 of the world to a severe judgment on its levity and inconstancy. 
 No sir, the honor of this nation shall never be so compromised !" 
 As soon as this solemn declaration was. made, La Fayette arose, 
 and interrupted the speaker. Standing in his place, and with- 
 out going to the tribune, which was contrary to the rules of the 
 house, he observed in a manner calm and dignified, addressing 
 himself to Lucien, and not to the president — "The assertion 
 which has just been uttered is a calumny. Who shall dare to 
 accuse the French nation of inconstancy to the Emperor Napo- 
 leon? That nation has followed his bloody footsteps through 
 the sands of Egypt, and through the wastes of Russia; over fifty 
 fields of battle; as faithful in disaster as in victory: and it is for 
 having thus devotedly followed him, that we now mourn the 
 blood of three millions of Frenchman." These words and the 
 solemn truths they conveyed, made a visible impression On the 
 chamber, which Lucien perceiving, he bowed respectfully to 
 La Fayette, and sat down without resuming his speech. 
 
 Finally, a resolution was carried to appoint a deputation of 
 five members from each chamber, to attend the grand council 
 of ministers which was to be held that night to determine on 
 the measures to be adopted. La Fayette was one of the num- 
 ber. Cambaceres, the arch-chancellor of the empire, presided 
 at the sitting. A motion was made by La Fayette that a dep- 
 utation, the next morning, wait on the emperor and request his 
 abdication: this motion the president refused to put; but it was 
 as much decided as though it had been formally adopted. The 
 following morning, the 22d of June, Napoleon sent to the cham- 
 ber his abdication ; and a committe was thereupon appointed, of 
 which La Fayette was one, who went to the Thuilleries to thank 
 him for it, in behalf of the nation. It was this bold asserter of 
 the rights of the people, also, who proposed that the life of Na- 
 poleon should be put under the protection of the French people. 
 A provisional government was established, which appointed 
 commissioners, of whom La Fayette was the head, to treat with 
 the allies, for the suspension of hostilities; but their efforts were 
 unavailing, as this did not agree with their legitimate views. 
 71 
 
562 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 On returning to the capital, he learned with surprise and r^gi 
 that the city had capitulated, and the army been withdrawn. 
 The chamber continued in session until the 7th of July, and 
 on the next day, the doors being closed by the gens d'armes, 
 although it is not known by whose orders, a number of the dep- 
 uties met at the house of La Fayette, from whence, at his in- 
 stance, they repaired to that of the president, and entered a for- 
 mal protest against this forcible and unjust exclusion, and each 
 one went his own way. Perceiving that nothing more could be 
 done to secure the liberties of the people, La Fayette retired to 
 his estate. He did not, like some of his mistaken friends in 
 America, hail the restoration of the Bourbons, as having ren- 
 dered the "family of nations complete," or as a glorious termi- 
 nation of " the long agony " for liberty. He did not acknowledge 
 the "legitimacy" of a dynasty and government established by 
 force and violence, the invasion and subjugation of the country; 
 by foreign armies ; he did not supplicate for favor or preferment ; 
 he did not even visit the king; and the minions of the "holy al- 
 liance" knew him too well to consult him, or invite him to take 
 any part in the new government, although many of the creatures 
 of Bonaparte were employed. 
 
 Since this era, General La Fayette has remained in retire 
 ment, and taken but little part in public affairs. He has been 
 twice returned a member of the chamber of deputies since 1817, 
 in opposition to all the influence of the ministerial party. He, 
 in general, has taken but little part in the business of the legis- 
 lature, believing that he could do no good. But the plan of the 
 minister to establish a censorship over the press, aroused the pa- 
 triotism and spirit of this veteran of two revolutions. He de- 
 clared with great energy, that the law was incompatible with 
 even the most limited freedom, and an outrage on the rights of 
 the people; and he "conjured the servants of the crown to 
 maintain the liberties of France within the limits prescribed by 
 the constitution. To violate it, is to dissolve the mutual guar- 
 antees of the nation and the throne; it is to give ourselves up 
 to total primitive freedom from all duties and from all laws," 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 563 
 
 The proposed law was adopted by a small majority ; which 
 led to the institution of a society, consisting of the members of 
 the opposition, and other liberals, for the relief of those who 
 might suffer on account of the unjust restrictions on the press* 
 General La Fayette was placed at the head of this society. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ♦"Je-neral La Fayette receives numerous invitations to visit the United States 
 once more — Resolution of congress on this suhject — He arrives at New York 
 — The reception he has met with by the people — Detail of the manner of his 
 reception by congress — Address of the speaker and his reply — Grant made 
 him by congress — His services for America, and character. 
 
 As Gent. La Fayette could discover but little gratifying to 
 him, in the present political condition and future prospects of 
 his native country, for several years past, his heart seems to 
 have inclined, with unusual fondness to the country of his adop- 
 tion — to his dear America, the theatre of his early and suc- 
 cessful struggles in the cause of liberty; where his patriotism 
 and services in that sacred cause are duly appreciated, and 
 where he is honored, venerated, and almost adored. Having 
 signified to many Americans, and others, his intentions of visiting 
 the United States once more, numerous public and private let- 
 ters were written to him, from this country, expressing much 
 satisfaction at this intelligence, and the hope that the citizens 
 of the United States would soon be gratified by seeing among 
 them this distinguished friend of America and great apostle of 
 liberty. Among other communications were letters from the 
 mayors of .tycw York and Boston, inviting him to visit those 
 cities; and in January, 1824, congress adopted a resolution re- 
 questing the president "to offer him a public ship, for his ac- 
 commodation, and to assure him, in the name of the people of 
 this great republic, that they cherished for him a grateful and 
 affectionate attachment." This national respect, more honor- 
 able, perhaps than any individual ever received before, under 
 similar circumstances, he declined, probably from motives of 
 
Bd4 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 delicacy; but embarked at Havre, tbe (port at which he had 
 three times before set sail for the United States,) in a private ves- 
 sel, and arrived at New- York on the 15th of August, 1824. He 
 was accompanied by his son George Washington La Fayette, and 
 his friend and private secretary, M. La Vassieur. 
 
 The reception which General La Fayette met with at this 
 commercial metropolis of the United States, and in every other 
 town which he has visited, or through which he has passed, has 
 been such as became the free citizens of the freest nation on 
 earth, to offer to the first and most venerated patriot of the age, 
 and the early and undeviating friend of America, who had sa- 
 crificed his fortune and his blood in establishing its independence 
 and liberty. Although he came among us as a private indivi- 
 dual, he has been received as. a public or national character, as 
 the guest of the country, and honored as the distinguished and 
 disinterested benefactor of America: to whom, ten millions of 
 freemen acknowledge themselves measurably indebted for the 
 political privileges and blessings which they enjoy.- No man 
 ever received, and no one can receive greater honour than this: 
 the homage and gratitude of an entire nation; unbribed and un- 
 hought, flowing spontaneously, the free-will offering of the hear! 
 a universal impulse which vibrated as the pulse of the nation. 
 To this universal feeling, manifested in a thousand ways and by 
 the strongest demonstrations, there is not a solitary discordant 
 voice; there is "no rebellious string, that jars in the grand chorus 
 and dissents." All are united, there is^but one sentiment, and 
 the wish of the imperial tyrant of Rome that the Roman people 
 had but one neck that he might sever it at a blow, is in some 
 measure realized here, on the present occasion, as the American 
 people have but one heart, and but one voice. This honor, unex- 
 ampled and distinguished as it, does not exceed the merits of the 
 individual who is the subject of it, as his character and services 
 for America, are equally unexampled. The moral grandeur of 
 this scene is unequalled, and its political influence must be great 
 and salutary. It is not only to the benefactor of America that 
 such distinguished honors are offered ; but it is also to the uniform 
 and consistent patriot, and the steadfast and undcjiuling friend of 
 liberty. 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAVETTE. 565 
 
 These honours from the people, in their individual and pri^ 
 mary character, called for corresponding conduct from the nation 
 in its collective and corporate capacity; and the representatives 
 of the people have met the wishes of their constituents, and as 
 the organs of the public will, have, in the name of the nation, 
 shown that respect to the distinguished benefactor of the coun- 
 try, which corresponded with the sentiments manifested by the 
 people. They have done more; they have offered a more sub- 
 stantial tribute of respect, and in some measure discharged the 
 obligations of the nation to its disinterested and illustrious ben- 
 efactor. 
 
 We cannot, from our prescribed limits, follow General La 
 Fayette in his tour through the United States, and his visits to 
 the principal towns, and notice the various manifestations of res- 
 pect and gratitude, by addresses, illuminations, military escorts, 
 parades, and public entertainments; besides, these details have 
 so recently appeared in the public papers, that they are fresh in 
 the minds of all, and a^repetition of them would afford but lit. 
 tie interest. The resj>ect, however, shown him by congress, 
 possessing a national character, is more deserving of notice. 
 
 President Monroe, in his message at the opening of the ses- 
 sion, recommended to congress to make some remuneration to 
 General La Fayette, for his services and sacrifices in the revo- 
 lutionary war, worthy the national character. The suggestion 
 of the president, which was in accordance with the sentiments 
 of the people, has been very honourably followed up by con- 
 gress, which has manifested its respect and liberality, both in a 
 manner wholly unexampled'. 
 
 At the commencement of the session, a joint committee was 
 appointed' to consider and report, what respectful mode it might 
 be proper for congress to adopt to receive Gen. La Fayette, and 
 to testify the high gratification which he has afforded, by his 
 present visit to the United States. The committee, on the part 
 of<the house, recommended the following resolutions, which 
 were unanimously adopted: — 
 
 "Resolved, That the congratulations of this House be publicly 
 given to General La Fayette, on his arrival in the United States ? 
 
oG6 MARQBIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 in compliance with the wishes of congress, and that he be assured 
 of the gratitude and deep respect which the House entertains 
 ibr his signal and illustrious services in the Revolution, and the 
 pleasure it feels in being able to welcome him, after an absence 
 of so many years, to the theatre of his early labors and early 
 renown. 
 
 " Resolved, That, for this purpose, General La Fayette be in- 
 vited by a Committee to attend the House on Friday next, at 
 one o'clock; that he be introduced by the Committee, and re- 
 ceived by the members standing, uncovered, and addressed by 
 the Speaker in behalf of the House." 
 
 The committee, on the part of the senate, recommended " that 
 the president of the senate invite General La Fayette to take a 
 seat, such as he might designate, in the Senate chamber; that 
 the committee deliver the invitation to the general, and intro- 
 duce him into the senate, and the members to receive him stand- 
 ing." This resolution was unanimously adopted: and about one 
 o'clock on the 9th of December, General La Fayette entered, 
 supported on the left by the Hon. Mr. Barbour, chairman of the 
 committee, and followed by the rest of the committee ; he was 
 conducted to a seat on the right of the president pro tern, the 
 Honorable Mr. Gaillard, in the presence of the senators, all 
 of whom were standing. As he entered, Mr. Barbour ad- 
 dressed the senate in these words: — " We present General La 
 Fayette to the Senate of the United States;" and as he ad- 
 vanced to the president's chair, the president addressed him: — 
 ; ' On the part of the senate, I invite you to take a seat," pointing 
 10 the scat on the right of the chair. A motion was then made 
 "that the senate do now adjourn, for the purpose of allowing the 
 members, individually, to pay their respects to Gen. La Fayette ;" 
 which was unanimously adopted ; and thereupon the members, 
 leaving their seats, in turn saluted him, in the most cordial 
 manner. — This is the first instance in which an individual was 
 introduced to the Senate of the United States, whilst in session. 
 
 Cassar never received greater honour from the servile senate 
 of Rome, when his victorious legions surrounded the capitol; 
 but one was the constrained homage bestowed on a conqueror, 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 567 
 
 at the head of a victorious army ; the other, the free and spon- 
 taneous honour shown to a private individual, without power or 
 influence to command it, or any other consideration, but his un- 
 exampled patriotism and distinguished services. 
 
 At an early hour on the next day, crowds were flocking into 
 the galleries of the house of representatives, and before eleven 
 o'clock a concourse of ladies entered the hall and took the seats 
 and sofas prepared for them; it was found necessary to provide 
 additional seats, and soon the house presented an exhibition of 
 beauty and fashion, which it is presumed has never been equalled, 
 that gave a more imposing interest to a scene naturally grand and 
 affecting. A motion having been adopted, to invite the members 
 of the senate to attend on the occasion, they entered in proces- 
 sion, and took seats on the right of the speaker. At one o'clock, 
 George Washington La Fayette and Colonel La Vassieur, the 
 secretary of the general, entered and took seats by the side of the 
 secretary of state: and in a few minutes, General La Fayette 
 entered the house, supported on his right by Mr. Mitchell, chair- 
 man of the committee, on his left by Mr. Livingston, and folloAved 
 by the rest of the committee. 
 
 The speaker and members then rose, and the procession ad- 
 vanced towards the centre of the houses when Mr. Mitchell intro- 
 duced Gen. La Fayette in the following words:— "Mr. Speaker — 
 The select committee, appointed for that purpose, have the hon- 
 our to introduce General La Fayette to the House of Represen- 
 tatives." 
 
 General La Fayette being conducted to the seat prepared for 
 him, the speaker, Mr. Clay, arose and addressed him in the fol- 
 lowing dignified and impressive manner: — 
 
 "General: — The House of Representatives of the United 
 States, impelled alike by its own feelings, and by those of the 
 whole American people, could not have assigned to me a more 
 gratifying duty than that of presenting to you cordial congratu- 
 lations upon the occasion of your recent arrival in the United 
 States, in compliance with the wishes of congress, and to assure 
 you of the very high satisfaction which >our presence affords on 
 this early theatre of your glory and renown. Although but few 
 
568 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 of the members who compose this body shared with you in the 
 war of our revolution, all have, from an impartial history, or 
 from faithful tradition, a knowledge of the perils, the sufferings, 
 and the sacrifices which you voluntarily encountered, and the 
 signal services, in America and Europe, which you performed 
 for an infant, a distant, and an alien people; and all feel and 
 own the very great extent of the obligations under which you have 
 placed our country. But the relations in which you have ever 
 stood to the United States, interesting and important as they 
 have been, do not constitute the only motive of the respect and 
 admiration which the house of representatives entertain for 
 you. Your consistency of character, your uniform devotion to 
 regulated liberty, in all the vicissitudes of a long and ardous 
 life, also command its admiration. During all the recent con- 
 vulsions of Europe, amidst, as after the dispersion of, every 
 political storm, the people of the United States have beheld 
 you, true" to your old principles, firm and erect, cheering and 
 animating with your well-known voice, the votaries of liberty, 
 its faithful and fearless champion, ready to shed the last drop of 
 that blood which here you so freely and nobly spilt, in the same 
 holy cause. 
 
 The vain wish has been sometimes indulged, that Providence 
 would allow the patriot, after death, to return to his country, 
 and to contemplate the intermediate changes which had taken 
 place — to view the forest felled, the cities built, the mountains 
 levelled, the canals cut, the highways constructed, the progress 
 of the arts, the advancement of learning, and increase of popu- 
 lation. General, your present visit to the United States is a 
 realization of the consoling object of that wish. You are in the 
 midst of posterity. Every where, you must have been struck 
 with the great changes, physical and moral, which have occurred 
 since you left us. Even this very city, bearing a venerated 
 name, alike endeared to you and to us, has since emerged from 
 the forest which then covered its site. In one respect you behold 
 us unaltered, and that it is in the sentiment of continued devotion 
 to liberty, and of ardent affection and profound gratitude to 
 your departed friend, the father of his country, and to you, and 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 568 
 
 to your illustrious associates in the field and in the cabinet, for 
 the multiplied blessings which surround us, and for the very 
 privilege of addressing you, which I now exercise. This senti- 
 ment, now fondly cherished by more than ten millions of people, 
 will be transmitted, with unabated vigour, down the tide of 
 time, through the countless millions who are destined to inhabit 
 this continent, to the latest posterity," 
 
 While the speaker was addressing him, General La Fayette 
 was very evidently affected. At the close of the address, he 
 seated himself for a few seconds, and then rose, and in a tone 
 influenced by powerful feeling, made the following reply: — 
 
 Mr. Speaker, and gentlemen 
 
 of the House of Representatives : — 
 
 While the people of *he United States, and their honorable 
 representatives in Congress, have deigned to make choice of me, 
 one of the American v.terans, to signify in his person, their 
 esteem for our joint services, and their attachment to the prin- 
 ciples for which we have had the honour to fight and bleed, I 
 am proud and happy to share those extraordinary favors with 
 my dear revolutionary companions; yet it would be, on my part, 
 uncandid and ungrateful not to acknowledge my personal share 
 in their testimonies of kindness, as they excite in my mind 
 emotions which no adequate words could express. 
 
 My obligations to the United States, sir, far exceed any merit 
 I might claim; they date from the time when I have had the 
 happiness to be adopted as a young soldier, a favoured son of 
 America; they have been continued to me during almost half 
 a century of constant affection and confidence; and now, sir, 
 thanks to your most gratifying invitation, I find myself greeted 
 by a series of welcomes, one hour of which would more than 
 compensate for the public exertions and sufferings of a whole 
 life. 
 
 The approbation of the American people, and their represen- 
 tatives, for my conduct during the vicissitudes of the European 
 revolution, is the highest reward I could receive. Well may I 
 stand firm and crert, when in their names, and by you, Mr. 
 Speaker, I am declared to have, in every instance, been faithful 
 
 72 
 
570 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 to those American principles of liberty, equality, and true 
 social orc!er, the devotion to which, as it has been from my 
 earliest youth, so it shall continue to be to my latest breath. 
 
 You have been pleased, Mr. Speaker, to allude to the pecu- 
 liar felicity of my situation, when, after so long an absence, I 
 am called to witness the immense improvements, the admirable 
 communications, the prodigious creations, of which we find an 
 example in this city, whose name itself is a venerated palladium ; 
 in a word, all the grandeur and prosperity of these happy United 
 States, who at the same time they nobly secure the complete 
 assertion of American independence, reflect, on every part of 
 the world, the light of a far superior political civilization. 
 
 What better pledge can be given, of a persevering national 
 love of liberty, when those blessings are evidently the result of 
 a virtuous resistance to oppression, and of institutions founded 
 on the rights of man, and the republican principle of self-gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 No, Mr. Speaker, posterity has not begun for me, since, in 
 the sons of my companions and friends, I find the same public 
 feelings, and, permit me to add, the same feelings in my behalf, 
 which I have had the happiness to experience in their fathers. 
 
 Sir, I have been allowed forty years ago, before a committee 
 of a Congress of thirteen states, to express the fond wishes of 
 an American heart; on this day, I have the honour, and 
 enjoy the delight, to congratulate the Representatives of the 
 Union, so vastly enlarged, on the realization of those wishes, 
 even beyond every human expectation, and upon the almost 
 infinite prospects we can with certainty anticipate; permit me, 
 Mr. Speaker, and gentlemen of the house of representatives, 
 to join to the expression of those sentiments, a tribute of my 
 lively gratitude, affectionate devotion, and profound respect. 
 
 This scene, this simple and unstudied expression of a nation's 
 feelings towards its early and disinterested benefactor, was 
 truly affecting and sublime; how unlike the kingly pomp, the 
 idle and ceremonious pageantry of courts! it gives a moral effect 
 and grandeur to the republican character and free institutions, 
 which exalt them far above any thing which the records of 
 monarchv afford* 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 571 
 
 The noble sentiments, worthy of the best days of Rome, of 
 the address of the speaker, and the reply of the general, were 
 listened to with the profoundest attention; the deepest interest 
 was manifested ; and both on the floor, and in the galleries, the 
 most unbroken silence prevailed: every eye was strained, and 
 every ear on the alert, that not a word, nor a movement of the 
 countenance of the venerable object of such unexampled national 
 honour, should be lost. 
 
 As soon as the general resumed his seat, a motion was made 
 and adopted to adjourn; and immediately the speaker left the 
 chair, and offered him his personal congratulations, shaking 
 him cordially by the hand. This was followed by the Speaker's 
 introducing all the members of the house individually to the 
 general, which closed a scene the most imposing in its character, 
 and instructive in its effects, which, perhaps, has ever been 
 witnessed in any age or nation. 
 
 But Congress did not stop here; they have left on record a 
 more substantial and imperishable testimonial of national grati- 
 tude. A committee was raised in each house, to consider and 
 report what provision it would be proper to make for Gen. La 
 Fayette; which reported a bill granting to him two hundred 
 thousand dollars, in stock to be created for that purpose, and a 
 township of land, to be located on any of the unappropriated lands 
 of the government. This bill, after some slight opposition, which 
 only served to call forth a disclosure of the immense expendi- 
 tures and sacrifice of this veteran patriot during the six years 
 he was engaged in our revolutionary struggle, was adopted, 
 there being only seven dissenting voices in the Senate, and 
 twenty-six in the house. It was stated by Mr. Haynes in the 
 Senate, that he had documents in his hand, which had been 
 obtained without the interference or knowledge of La Fayette, 
 from which it incontestably appeared that during six years of 
 the American war, he expended in the service 700,000 francs, 
 or 140,000 dollars. This sum at compound interest for forty- 
 three years, would amount to more than a million of dollars. — 
 Mr. Haynes also stated another fact, highly honorable to the 
 general. In 1 803, congress granted him a tract of 1 1,520 acres 
 
572 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 of land, to be located in any of the unappropriated lands oi 
 the government; and his agent located 1000 acres in the county 
 of Orleans, in the vicinity of the city of N. O. Without 
 attending to this fact, congress subsequently included this tract 
 in a grant of land made to that city. This tract was then worth 
 50,000 dollars, and is now said to be valued at 500,000. Not- 
 withstanding this, and although advised that his title was indubi- 
 tably valid, the general, with singular delicacy of feeling, im- 
 mediately relinquished his claim, and caused a deed to be 
 recorded, remarking, " that he would notenter into controversy; 
 the act had been gratuitous, and congress best knew what they 
 intended to bestow." 
 
 The following is the act: — 
 
 Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of 
 the United States of America, in Congress assembled, That in 
 consideration ©f the services and sacrifices of General La Fay- 
 ette, in the war of the revolution, the secretary of the treasury 
 be, and he is hereby authorized to pay to him the sum of two 
 hundred thousand dollars out of any money in the treasury not 
 otherwise appropriated. 
 
 Sec. 2. And be it further enacted, that there be granted to 
 the said Gen. La Fayette, and his heirs, one township of land, 
 to be laid out and located under the authority of the president, 
 in any of the unappropriated lands of the United States. 
 
 H. CLAY, 
 Speaker of the House of Representatives. 
 JOHN GAILLARD, 
 President of the Senate, pro tempore. 
 Washington, Dec. 28th, 1824 — Approved: 
 
 JAMES MONROE. 
 
 This grant, liberal as it is, does not exceed the merits of the 
 illustrious patriot, who is the worthy object of it, or the wishes 
 of the American people; it is worthy the national justice and 
 munificence, and the character and services of La Fayette. — 
 In addition to this and the grant of land in 1 803, already alluded 
 to, in 1794, when he was persecuted and proscribed at home, his 
 estates confiscated and his family impoverished; when he was 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE, 573 
 
 the victim of the vengeance of coalesced kings, he was not 
 forgotten in America, and congress granted him the pay of a 
 major-general, for the period of his service in the army of the 
 United States; he having declined receiving any compensation 
 at the time. 
 
 General La Fayette is undoubtedly the most interesting 
 character now living; and with the exception of a venerated 
 name, who was his own leader and guide — who was "First in 
 war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen," 
 probably the most interesting character in the annals of history. 
 
 His services for America, whether we consider the disinter- 
 ested and patriotic motives which produced them, the great 
 individual sacrifices which attended them, or their important 
 consequences to the sacred cause of independence and liberty 
 in which they were employed, are without any example, and 
 can never be sufficiently appreciated. Whether the American 
 colonies alone, and unaided by any foreign assistance, would 
 have been able to have sustained themselves in the mighty 
 struggle with great Britain, and to have established their inde- 
 pendence, must now for ever remain a problem ; but it is evident 
 that the war could not have been brought to a conclusion at the 
 time and manner it was; for, to say nothing about the assistance 
 of the French troops, amounting to above seven thousand, the 
 successful operations at Yorktown, which so gloriously termi- 
 nated the war, were entirely dependent on the co-operation of 
 the French fleet. It was the assistance of France, that brought 
 the revolutionary struggle to a close, and how far we are 
 indebted to General La Fayette for that assistance, cannot now 
 well be determined; but it is a position by no means extrav- 
 agant, that it is to his exertions and influence, directly and 
 indirectly, that we are to attribute the assistance afforded 
 America by France. 
 
 General La Fayette possesses the highest and most honorable 
 character which has ever adorned human nature, that of a 
 distinguished, consistent, and undeviating patriot and philan^ 
 thropist — the lover of liberty and the friend of mankind. 
 
&74 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 The subjoined extract from Madame de Siael, who was per* 
 sonally acquainted with all the distinguished characters who 
 figured in the French revolution, and with the events of that 
 important epoch, is an honorable testimony of the worth and 
 character of Gen. La Fayette: — 
 
 " M. de La Fayette, having fought from his early youth for 
 the cause of America, had early become imbued with the prin- 
 ciples of liberty, which formed the basis of that government. — 
 If he made mistakes with regard to the French revolution, we 
 are to ascribe them all to his admiration of American institutions, 
 and of Washington, the hero, citizen, who guided the first steps 
 of that nation in the career of independence. La Fayette, 
 young, affluent, of noble family, and beloved at home, relin- 
 quished all these advantages at the age of nineteen, to serve 
 beyond the ocean in the cause of that liberty, the love of which 
 has decided every action of his life. Had he had the happiness 
 to be a native of the United States, his conduct would have 
 been that of Washington: the same disinterestedness, the same 
 enthusiasm, the same perseverance in their opinions, distin- 
 guished each of these generous friends of humanity. Had 
 General Washington been, like the Marquis de La Fayette, 
 commander of the National Guards of Paris, he also might 
 have found it impossible to control the course of circumstances; 
 he also might have seen his efforts baffled by the difficulty of 
 being at once faithful to his engagements to the king, and of 
 establishing at the same time the liberty of his country. 
 
 " M. de La Fayette, I must say, has a right to be considered 
 as a true republican: none of the vanities of his rank ever 
 entered his head : power, the effect of which is so great in 
 France, had no ascendency over him: the desire of pleasing in 
 a drawing-room conversation, did not with him influence a single 
 phrase: he sacrificed all his fortune to his opinions, with the 
 most generous indifference. When in the prison of Olmutz, as 
 when at the height of his influence, he was equally firm in his 
 attachment to his principles. His manner of seeing and acting 
 is open and direct. Whoever has marked his conduct, may 
 foretell with certainty what he will do on any particular occasion . 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 575 
 
 "His political feeling is that of a citizen of the United States; 
 and even his person is more English than French. The hatred, 
 of which M. La Fayette is the object, has never embittered his 
 temper; and his gentleness of soul is complete: at the same 
 time nothing has ever modified his opinions; and his confidence 
 in the triumph of liberty, is the same as that of a piois man in 
 a future life. These sentiments, so contrary to the selfish cal- 
 culations of most of the men who have acted a part in France, 
 may appear pitiable in the eyes of some persons — "it is so silly," 
 they think, "to prefer one's country to one's self; not to change 
 one's party when that party is worsted ; in short, to consider 
 mankind, not as cards with which to play a winning game, but 
 as the sacred objects of unlimited sacrifices." If this is to form 
 the charge of silliness, would that it were but once merited by 
 our men of talents! 
 
 "It is a singular phenomenon, that such a character as that of 
 M. de La Fayette, should have appeared in the foremost rank 
 of the French noblesse; but he can neither be censured or ex- 
 culpated with impartiality, without being acknowledged to be 
 such as I have described him. It then becomes easy to under- 
 stand the different contrasts which naturally arose between his 
 disposition and situation. Supporting monarchy more from 
 duty than attachment, he drew involuntarily towards the prin- 
 ciples cf the democrats, whom he was obliged to resist; and a 
 certain kindness for the advocates of the republican form, was 
 perceptible in him, although his reflection forbade the admis- 
 sion of their system into France. Since the departure of M. 
 de La Fayette for America, now forty years ago, we cannot 
 quote a single action or a single word of his, which was not di- 
 rect and consistent. Personal interest never blended itself in 
 the least with his public conduct: success would have displayed 
 such sentiments to advantage; but they claim the attention of 
 the historian in spite of circumstance, and in spite of faults, 
 which may serve as a handle to his opponents." 
 
 We would not wish to write an eulogium on La Fayette; he« 
 certainly requires none; a simple relation of the facts, con- 
 nected with his life and conduct, is the highest panegyric that 
 
516 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 can be bestowed on him; the faithful page of history will be the 
 proudest monument of his fame, and sufficiently substantial to 
 sustain all the laurels that adorn his name. It is not on the ex- 
 traordinary talents he has displayed, or the brilliancy of any 
 particular action or event; it is not on the number of pitched 
 battles he has fought, or the victories he has won, that his repu- 
 tation depends. It rests on a more substantial and noble basis 
 — private worth and public virtue. There have been greater 
 generals and orators in almost every age; and there were many 
 greater, at least more fortunate, among the distinguished char- 
 acters which the memorable revolution in his own country called 
 forth. But the powers of his mind, and the adequacy of his 
 talents to any service, whether in the civil or military concerns 
 of government, are sufficiently established from the fact, that 
 he sustained the very first rank, and perhaps more influence than 
 any other individual, among that brilliant galaxy of genius and 
 talents which irradiated the horizon of France during the early 
 part of the French revolution. To be in the first rank, if not 
 the very first, among such an assemblage of learning and elo- 
 quence, is sufficient to establish his claim to superiority. But 
 it is certain that in the progress of the revolution, there" ap- 
 peared individuals possessed of greater learning and talents; 
 greater orators, statesmen, and warriors; yet, nevertheless, there 
 is no one who has gone through that mighty ordeal with a re- 
 putation that will in any respect compare with his. It is true 
 that many of the greatest and best men were cut oflf by the 
 guillotine; but of those who survived the restoration of the 
 Bourbons, which ended the revolutionary period, La Fayette 
 seems to have been almost the only one, among the distinguished 
 actors, who has passed through this long and eventful period, 
 so fruitful in dangers and trials, with an unsullied reputation; 
 who ended with the same principles with which they com- 
 menced, and maintained n perfect consistency of character. If 
 there is any other, it must be Carnot; and he yielded, in some 
 measure, to the usurpation of Bonaparte, but not until his 
 country was about to be invaded by foreign armies, which 
 threatened a greater evil to France, and obstacle to the liber 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE}. 577 
 
 ties of the people, than existed in the despotism of Napoleon. 
 hy the restoration of the Bourbons. 
 
 La Fayette possessed the same political principles, the same 
 attachment to freedom, the same sacred regard to the rights 
 of the people, and steady adherence to the cardinal bases of 
 civil liberty, resting on free institutions, under all circumstan- 
 ces, on both sides of the Atlantic; as a volunteer in the strug- 
 gle of a distant and alien people for their political rights; in 
 the mighty contest in his native country against oppression; in 
 success and a popularity never equalled; in the sudden loss of 
 that popularity, followed by proscription and exile; and he has 
 exhibited the same confidence in his principles and professions, 
 the same integrity of purpose, in glory and in suffering, in pop- 
 ularity and power, and in proscription and disgrace. When di- 
 recting the revolution or the victim of its injustice and vio- 
 lence, he "has maintained the same tone, the same air, the 
 same open confidence amidst the ruins of the Bastile, in the 
 Champ de Mars, under the despotism of Bonaparte, and in the 
 dungeons of Olmutz." It is the character of a consistent, uni- 
 form, and incorruptible patriot, or rather the services he has per- 
 formed, and the sacrifices he has made, which afford the evi- 
 dence of this character, on which the magnificent fabric of his 
 repuiation rests; this is a foundation which time will not im- 
 pair; and the fame which it supports, undimmed by age, will 
 shine brighter and brighter, as long as liberty has an abode on 
 earth, or virtue is revered. 
 
 It must be admitted that La Fayette, like most others, is in 
 some degree indebted to fortune, for his extraordinary character. 
 He lived in the most eventful period, and one the most impor- 
 tant to the destinies of mankind, comprising that portion of time 
 when philosophy, applied to the nature and end of government, 
 made mankind acquainted with their political rights, and in 
 which, as a consequence thereof, the great struggle, so interest- 
 ing to the human race, commenced between the oppressors and 
 the oppressed; between the people, for the right of self-govern- 
 ment, and those who claim the prerogative of governing them, 
 according to" legitimate" principles: who claim an interest and 
 
 73 
 
#3 8 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 inheritance in them; a struggle which has been crowned with 
 success in America, made great progress in Europe, and which 
 will not cease, although it may be apparently suppressed until 
 all the nations of that portion of the earth shall become free. 
 
 Among all the individuals, who have taken a distinguished 
 part in the events of this period, no man, it is believed, with 
 one illustrious exception, will leave a reputation so dear to the 
 friends of freedom, as La Fayette. And in one respect, his 
 character has no example: he alone, during this important epoch, 
 has acted a distinguished part in two hemispheres, and exerted 
 a leading and contrblling influence in the two mighty revolu- 
 tions by which this period is distinguished, which, from their 
 moral and political influence, are the most important events in 
 the annals of the world. To have acted an important part in 
 one, and a commanding part in the other, of the two most con- 
 spicuous struggles for liberty which have ever occurred, is a 
 circumstance so extraordinary as would of itself confer great 
 celebrity: but to have acted from the purest and most disinter- 
 ested patriotism: to have sacrificed a princely fortune; to have 
 been the victim of injustice and proscription, for a faithful ad- , 
 herence to principle ; to have endured the severest sufferings ; and 
 to have passed through these momentous struggles, abounding 
 in difficulties and trials, with perfect consistency of principle, 
 a steady adherence to his original objects, and without a stain 
 on his escutcheon, is what constitute the chief glory and renown 
 of the man who is the subject of these remark^. 
 
 Who has done more, who has suffered more, in the cause of 
 freedom? Who has been more consistent and uniform in the 
 pursuit of the only worthy object of human ambition, that of 
 benefiting mankind? And, notwithstanding the failure of the 
 immediate object of the struggle in France, it may also be asked, 
 avIio has accomplished more in this sacrsd cause? To whom, 
 then, is the world more indebted? Who ought to be more 
 revered by the friends of liberty? Not only the prime of his 
 days, but his early youth and declining years have been de- 
 voted to subserve the interests of humanity. The glowing pa- 
 triotism of the young volunteer of nineteen, was matured by lus 
 
MARQUIS DE LA FAYETT& ?39 
 
 Meridian sun, and is now scarcely less ardent, under the chilling; 
 influence of age. The corrupting influence of a long partici- 
 pation in public affairs, and the cold, calculating policy of age, 
 have produced no effect on him. Neither triumphs nor suffer- 
 ings, the rage and persecutions of demagogues, or the cruelties 
 of despots, the temptations of power, or the provocation of un- 
 just suffering, have had any influence on his principles. He is 
 the same patriot now, and almost as sanguine in his hopes, as 
 when fighting the battles of America, or directing the French 
 revolution, literally "a tempestuous sea of liberty." After 
 nearly half a century, devoted to the interests of humanity and 
 the cause of civil liberty, in two hemispheres, he may well be 
 regarded as the "veteran patriot," and as the "great apostle of 
 liberty." 
 
 Since he has been among us, in his answers to public ad- 
 dresses, and in the toasts he has given at public entertainments, 
 we perceive the same principles, the same love of liberty, and 
 apparently, the same confidence in its ultimate triumph, not 
 only in France, but throughout Europe, which influenced his 
 conduct through a long and active life. It is true he has not 
 since his return to France, taken an active part to promote the 
 freedom of his country; he has not attempted to make himself 
 a tribune of the people, or to stir up commotions, being as little 
 inclined to faction as to despotism; and he'has believed that nei- 
 ther the military usurpation of Bonaparte, nor a revival of the 
 feudal despotism by the Bourbons, afforded favorable oppportu- 
 nities to attempt to combine the elements of freedom, which 
 exist in France; he has been contented to wait the slow, but 
 sure progress of public opinion, being persuaded that the ope- 
 ration of this would not fail in due time of producing the eman- 
 cipation of his country. To this event, as Madame de Stael 
 has well observed, "he looks forward with the same hope, the 
 same consoling confidence, as a pious man docs to a future state 
 of existence and felicity." 
 
 Such is the life and character of the man who is now on a 
 visit to the United States, as the "guest of the nation," aud on 
 the invitation of the nation; but, although it is the same nation, 
 it is not the same people with whom he fought and bled: almost 
 
580 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE. 
 
 the entire population, then on the stage, has past away; the ten 
 millions of freemen, which greeted his arrival, and who, wher> 
 ever he goes, offer him the sincere tribute of grateful hearts, 
 nearly all belong to a new generation, which have come on the 
 stage of action, since that great struggle, in which he acted so 
 prominent and useful a part. It cannot, certainly, be a matter 
 of surprise, that there is an universal interest and curiosity man- 
 ifested to see such an individual — a man who has acted a prom- 
 inent part in the most important concerns and events of half a 
 century past — To see such a character is, as was remarked by 
 Mr. Speaker Clay, "like seeing and conversing with one from 
 the dead:" is as beholding one of the grave actors in the great 
 events of which history informs us ; it is almost the same as would 
 be the appearance of one of Plutarch's heroes on ,the earth. 
 These considerations alone are sufficient to render him an ob- 
 ject of the greatest curiosity and interest; but it is not from 
 these circumstances that he is welcomed and greeted with the 
 admiration and gratitude of the entire population of the country ; 
 these feelings proceed from causes that make a deeper and more 
 lasting impression on the heart; from his character as a disin- 
 terested and distinguished patriot and sincere friend of liberty; 
 but chiefly from his having been the benefactor of America, and 
 having devoted his fortune and his blood to establish its inde- 
 pendence and freedom, the acknowledged sources from whence 
 flow the fertilizing streams of public and private prosperity, 
 which happily distinguish our country above all others on earth. 
 General La Fayette constantly speaks of himself as an 
 American citizen, which it is well known he is; and he has ex- 
 hibited abundant proof that he takes as lively and deep interest 
 as any native citizen can do, in the success of our institutions 
 and the prosperity of the country; and it has even been suppo- 
 sed that he intends to spend the remainder of his days here; 
 but he has given no such intimation, nor is it probable; for how- 
 ever much more interest he may feel, in the institutions, and 
 even in the people of his adopted, than in those of his native 
 country, it is natural that he should wish to close the evening 
 of his life in the midst of his numerous descendants, and to leave 
 his bones to repose with those of his ancestors. 
 
BIOGRAPHY 
 
 OP 
 
 OFFICERS FROM FOREIGN COUNTRIES. 
 
 COMMISSIONED BY CONGRESS. 
 
 KOSCIUSKO 
 
 The American revolutionary contest is memorable, for having 
 called into its service the aid of many distinguished foreigners, 
 soldiers of liberty, and volunteers in the cause of an oppressed 
 people, struggling to defend their liberties. Among the most 
 celebrated of these, was Kosciusko, one of the first and bravest 
 of the Polish patriots. Although it does not appear that he per- 
 formed much, or any very important service, in the American 
 war, yet from his distinguished character as a patriot, and the 
 noble struggles he has made, in defence of the independence of 
 his own country, and to realize the last hopes of its friends, a 
 sketch of his life cannot but be interesting, and properly belongs 
 to a work containing the memoirs of the military heroes cf the 
 American revolutionary war. This high-minded patriot was 
 first distinguished in the war which terminated in the first dis- 
 memberment of Poland by Russia, Austria, and Prussia. 
 
 Poland had long been distracted with dissensions, often break- 
 ing out into civil war; and particularly since the conquest of the 
 country by Charles XII. of Sweden, which led to the interference 
 of Russia, and afterward that dangerous neighbor always had a 
 strong party in Poland, and generally a controlling influence! 
 Charles XII. conquered Augustus, and compelled him to abdi- 
 cate in favor of Stanislaus Lcczinski, whom he had previously 
 caused to be elected king. The armies of the Czar, which Au- 
 gustus had availed himself of, had not been sufficient to save him 
 from this humiliating result. The battle of Pultowa overthrew 
 
> v_' KOSCIUSKO. 
 
 the power of Charles; and Augustus was restored by the aid of 
 Russia, the latter taking care to be well paid for its friendly in- 
 terference. During the reign of this prince, and his son, Augus- 
 tus II. Poland was little better than a Russian province, sur- 
 rounded by Russian troops ; and the country torn to pieces by 
 contentions among the nobles, they were kept on the throne only 
 by the power of Russia. 
 
 On the death of Augustus II* in 1764, Catharine II. Empress 
 of Russia, compejled the Diet to elect Stanislaus Poniatowski, a 
 Pole of noble rank, who had resided for some time at Peters- 
 burgh, and made himself agreeable to the empress, who sup- 
 posed that his election would promote the influence and de- 
 signs of Russia. This increased the disorders, and inflamed the 
 rage of the two great parties*, the Russian and anti-Russian, to- 
 wards each other. At this time*, to their political causes of dis- 
 sension, were added those of religion. The Protestants, who in 
 Poland were called dissidents, had long been tolerated, but still 
 Buffered under many civil disabilities^ which were greatly in- 
 creased by a decree that was passed during the interregnum 
 that preceded the election of Poniatowski. They were, in a 
 great measure, denied the free exercise of religious worship, 
 and excluded from all political privileges. This unjust and im- 
 politic measure roused the spirit of the Protestants; they pe* 
 titioned and remonstrated; they applied to the courts of Russia. 
 Prussia, Great Britain, and Denmark, all of which remonstra- 
 ted to the government of Poland, but without any essential ef- 
 fect. Some unimportant concessions were made, which did not 
 satisfy the dissidents, who were determined to maintain their 
 rights with their blood, being encouraged to this determination 
 by assurance of support from Russia, Austria, and Prussia. 
 The Catholics were not behind their opponents in preparations 
 for war, and the " Confederation of the Barr" formed the bul- 
 wark of their strength and hopes. With both parties, religion 
 and liberty became the watchword and a signal for war. The 
 confederates, as the Catholics were denominated, not only wished 
 to overcome their opponents, but to dethrone Stanislaus, and 
 rescue the country from the influence of Russia. This despe- 
 
KOSCIUSKO. 583 
 
 rate civil war was very gratifying to the ambitious neighbours 
 of Poland, who, a considerable time before, had entered into a 
 secret treaty for the conquest and partition of Poland. The 
 armies of Russia, Prussia, and Austria invaded the country in 
 various directions, and siezed on different provinces. 
 
 The confederates, or the anti-Russian party, comprising most 
 of the distinguished Poli«h patriots, made a resolute and deter- 
 mined struggle; but, being feebly supported by Saxony and 
 France, and having to contend with numerous forces of the coa- 
 lition which invaded the country, as well as those of their oppo- 
 nents at home, they were defeated in every quarter, and the 
 country left a prey to the three roj^al plunderers. They issued 
 a manifesto, declaring that the dissensions and disorders of Po- 
 land had rendered their interference necessary, and that they 
 had adopted combined measures for the re-establishment of good 
 order in Poland, and the settlement of its ancient constitution, 
 and to secure the national and popular liberties of the people 
 on a solid basis. But the security and protection which they 
 afforded to unhappy Poland, was like that which the wolf af- 
 fords to tlie lamb, and the tears they shed over her misfortunes, 
 were like those of the crocodile when preying on its victim. 
 Instead of securing the rights of the dissidents, which was the 
 professed object of the war, the combined sovereigns thought, 
 only of aggrandizing themselves; and, after great difficulty, 
 they finally succeeded in dividing the spoil, a treaty for the par- 
 tition of Poland being concluded at Petersburgh, in February, 
 1772. Russia took a large proportion of the eastern provinces;' 
 Austria appropriated to herself a fertile tract on the southwest, 
 and Prussia the commercial district in the northwest, including 
 the lower part of Vistula; leaving only the central provinces, 
 comprising Warsaw and Cracow, the modern and ancient capi- 
 tal. Thus was Poland despoiled by three royal robbers, which 
 Europe witnessed, not without astonishment, but without any 
 effectual interference. The courts of London, Paris, Stockholm, 
 and Copenhagen, remonstrated against this violent usurpation, 
 which probably had as much effect as was expected — none 
 at all. 
 
.)tsi KOSCIUSKO. 
 
 In this unjust and cruel war, Kosciusko had taken an activt 
 and zealous part in defence of the independence of his country ; 
 but his patriotism and exertions were unavailing; the patriotic 
 Poles could not resistthe power of faction and the invading armies 
 of three formidable neighbours. To strengthen their acquisi- 
 tions, the allied powers insisted on Stanislaus convoking a diet to 
 sanction the partition; and, notwithstanding the influence of 
 three powerful armies, the diet refused to ratify this injustice for 
 a considerable time ; but, by promises of favours, and by profuse 
 use of money among the members, together with the influence 
 of military force, a majority of six in the senate, and of one in 
 the assembly, was at length obtained in favour of the iniquitous 
 measure, and commissioners were appointed to adjust the terms 
 of the partition. This completed the humiliation and degrada- 
 tion of Poland, and occasioned many of her most distinguished 
 patriots to leave their dismembered and unhappy count.iy. This 
 took place in May, 1773. Kosciusko was among those who re- 
 tired from the country. 
 
 The war that broke out between the American colonies and 
 Great Britain, opened a field for military adventurers from Eu- 
 rope, it being supposed that America was destitute of men of 
 military science and experience, and being justly regarded as a 
 contest for liberty, between an infant people, few in number, and 
 with feeble means, and the most powerful nation on earth, many 
 patriots of the old world repaired to America as volunteers in 
 the cause of freedom. The first events and successes of the 
 contest, and the dignified attitude assumed by the solemn decla- 
 ration of independence, produced the most favourable impres- 
 sion abroad, which brought many distinguised foreigners to our 
 shores in the early part of the year 1777. The distinguished 
 Polish patriot, who is the subject of this brief notice, and his 
 countryman, Count Pulaski, were among the number. It is not 
 known at what time either of them arrived, but it is believed it 
 was early in the year '77, as the latter was present and distin- 
 guished himself in the battle of Brandy wine. So many foreign- 
 ers of distinction arrived, that Congress was embarrassed in giv- 
 ing them employment, corresponding with their expectations' 
 
KOSCItfSKO. 585 
 
 und rank; and, from the commissions which were given to for^ 
 eigners, disagreeabte jealousies were produced among the 
 native officers of the continental arm)'. Kosciusko, like the 
 Marquis de la Fayette and others, had been influenced wholly 
 by patriotic motives and an ardent attachment to liberty; he 
 had no occasion to acquire military fame, and he possessed a 
 soul which raised him infinitely above becoming a mercenary 
 soldier. He wanted neither rank nor emolument; his object 
 was to serve the cause, not to serve himself. He however recei- 
 ved a Colonel's commission, and was employed under General 
 Greene, in the southern campaign of '81. In the attack on 
 Ninety-Six, a very strong post of the enemy in South Carolina, 
 Kosciusko being a skilful engineer, Greene intrusted to him the 
 important duty of preparing and constructing Uio works for the 
 siege. He continued in the service until after the capture of 
 Cornwallis at Yorktown, which terminated all the important 
 operations of the war. 
 
 On leaving America, Kosciusko returned to his native country, 
 where he exerted himself for the improvement of the political 
 condition of his countrymen, and promoting the general pros* 
 perity. Stanislaus exerted himself to improve what territory 
 was left him by his friendly neighbours; a taste for agriculture 
 was cherished, the condition of the peasantry, who had been so 
 long enslaved and degraded, was raised, and a national system 
 of education established. But the most important improve- 
 ment was in the constitution of the state. The disorders and 
 factions which had so long and so unhappily prevailed, had 
 convinced all enlightened patriots, that the existing constitution 
 was the fertile source of their internal dissensions; and that it 
 was incompatible with the tranquility or prosperity of the 
 Country. After repeated attempts, the diet in 1791, succeeded 
 hi establishing a new constitution, on just and liberal principles* 
 so wisely framed that Mr. Burke commended it, by saying that 
 the condition of all was mado better, and the rights of none 
 Infringed. 
 
 But the prosperity and hopes which these improvements 
 were calculated to afford^ were soon dissipated.. Pefand waj? 
 
 74 
 
3$6 KOSCIUSKO 
 
 again destined to become the victim of the "she bear" of the 
 north. A few of the nobles, disaffected at the new constitution, 
 which had deprived them of some of their privileges, presented 
 their complaints to the court of Petersburgh, which, glad of a 
 pretext for interfering in the affairs of Poland, immediately 
 marched a numerous army into the country, for the ostensible 
 object of re-establishing the constitution of 1772. But the real 
 designs of Russia were too apparent to be mistaken; and the 
 Poles did not delay in making preparations for hostilities. This 
 base aggression, and the remembrance of her former rapacity, 
 aroused the natidn to a sense of its danger; all dissensions and 
 animosities were forgotten in the common struggle; a spirit 
 worthy the occasion was excited, and every class and rank were 
 resolved to conquer or die in defence of the independence and 
 liberties of their country*, The nobles presented their plate and 
 valuable jewels to enrich the treasury, and afford the means of 
 carrying on the war. The prince Poniatowski, nephew of the 
 king, and Kosciusko, were at the head of the armies, and disr- 
 played prodigies of valour. But with all their exertions, bravery, 
 and perseverance, they were unable to resist the power of 
 Russia, whose armies were almost every where successful. And 
 being threatened by the empress with a devastation of the 
 country, if he made further resistance, and that she would 
 double her present force, Stanislaus, to prevent further effusion 
 of blood, surrendered at discretion, and was conveyed to Grodno^ 
 to await the decision of the conqueror. Neither the king nor 
 the nation were long kept in suspense, for soon the courts of 
 Russia and Prflssia promulgated a manifesto, declaring their 
 intention of annexing to their dominions several of the adjoining 
 provinces of Poland. This was early in the year 1793. 
 
 Not satisfied with their former spoliations, the King of Prussia 
 and Empress of Russia resolved to lighten the burdens of gov- 
 ernment, which tney believed too heavy for Stanislaus to sustain, 
 by a second partition of his kingdom. Accordingly the latter 
 seized on the country from the Dwina to the Neister; and assu- 
 ming the civil government of the territory, the inhabitants were 
 ordered to take the oath of allegiance to her Imperial Majesty. 
 
KOSCIUSKO. o87 - 
 
 or abandon the conquered district; and the King of Prussia, not 
 to be behind his ally in a neighborly regard for Poland, wrested 
 from it several provinces, besides the cities of Dantzic and 
 Thorn. These high handed depredations were made with the 
 assent of the Emperor of Austria, and pretended to be neces - - 
 sary precautions against the contagion of jacobinal principles* 
 which might otherwise infect their dominions bordering on 
 Poland. Again a diet was convoked, and compelled., by military 
 power to sanction this second partition of the Polish dominions. 
 The Russian ambassador informed the diet, " that to prevent 
 any kind of disorder, he had caused two battalions of grenadiers, 
 with four pieces of cannon, to surround the castle to secure the 
 tranquility of their deliberations." But although the country 
 had been rent in pieces, the spirit of the nation was not dcsr- 
 troyed; and as long as a particle remained, such injustice and 
 violence was calculated to call it into action. The nation was 
 roused, and the patriotism of the Polish nobles was once more 
 called forth. It was readily perceived that nothing could be 
 done without a leader, and the eyes of all were directed to Kos- 
 ciusko, who had taken refuge in Saxony, with Potocki, Kolontay 
 and Zajonzek. These four resolute patriots rejoiced at the 
 spirttof resistance to oppression which was roused among their 
 countrymen, and were prepared to exert all their energies, and 
 to shed the last drop of their blood, for the independence and 
 freedom of their oppressed and much injured country. Zajonzek 
 was despatched to Warsaw, to learn the state of affairs, to confer 
 with the chief malecontents, and concert the plan of operations. 
 And in the mean time Kosciusko repaired to the frontiers, and 
 anxiously waited the result of this mission. It was determined 
 to make an attempt to rescue the country from the slavery of 
 Russian domination; but suspicions of the design having been 
 excited, it was thought advisable that no movements should be 
 made at that time. Kosciusko retired to Italy for greater safety, 
 where he was soon joined by Zajonzek, who had been banished 
 from the Polish territories as a promoter of sedition. He in- 
 formed Kosciusko, that his countrymen were ripe for a revolt} 
 .arid that they wished to have him appear, without delay, as a. 
 
5&3 KOSCIUSKQ. 
 
 more favorable opportunity would not occur. The ambitious 
 designs of Russia were no longer concealed : the ambassador of 
 the empress ordered the constitution of 1791 annulled, and the 
 military force of Poland reduced to 16,000 men, thus intending 
 to deprive the nation of all power of resistance. The patriotic 
 Mondalinski, placing himself at their head, the troops were 
 invincible and refused to lay down "their arms. The spirit of 
 resistance was spread through the country, and the ardour of the 
 nation roused to the highest pitch. The Russians to enforce 
 their mandates, sent a numerous army into the country, whose 
 ruthless conduct drove the Poles to desperation. The peasantry 
 were compelled to feed, lodge, and convey their enemies from 
 place to place, without compensation, and thus to bec@me the 
 instruments of enslaving their own country. This severe and 
 cruel treatment exasperated the public feeling, a*nd the spirit of 
 revenge and resistance became inveterate and universal. 
 
 At this time, the great patriot and hero to whom all looked 
 as a leader, appeared, and was immediately appointed general- 
 issimo of the patriot army, and chief of the confederacy. He 
 took the oath of fidelity to the nation, and of adherence to the 
 act of insurrection by which war was declared against the 
 ruthless invaders of the rights and independence of Poland. — 
 Like Washington, he had conferred on him such ample powers* 
 as, in the possession of any other man, would have been a source 
 of jealousy if not of real danger; but his country had the mosf 
 unbounded confidence in Kosciusko, which was not misplaced. 
 He issued a proclamation, containing an appeal to every rank 
 and class of the people, to rally round the standard of their 
 country and of freedom, and to break the chains which enslaved 
 them, or perish in the attempt. This appeal was not made iii 
 vain: he was soon surrounded by a large number of armed 
 peasantry; and the nobility having proclaimed the constitution 
 of 1791, departed to their respective estates, to bring their vas J 
 §als into the field. The Russians were soon driven out of Crar 
 cow, which became the head quarters of the patriot army. A 
 Russian force of 6,000 men marching toward Cracow, under Gen. 
 T^ononzow, to attack Uje patriots, was engaged by theJT brave 
 
KOSCIUSKO. 539 
 
 leader, and defeated with the loss of 1000 men, and eleven 
 pieces of cannon, and their general made prisoner. This splen- 
 did success became the signal for general hostilities, and had 
 the most favorable influence. The Russian general, Igelstrom, 
 attempted to make himself master of the arsenal at Warsaw, 
 but was resolutely repelled by the inhabitants, who after a. 
 bloody contest of three days, drove the Russians from the city 
 with the loss of more than fifteen hundred men. The enemy 
 retired to the camp of the Prussian general Wolki. 
 
 In other towns the inhabitants displayed similar bravery and 
 resolution, and in many their exertions were successful. These 
 successes served to iuspire confidence, and to animate the most 
 desponding; the whole country was soon in arms, and G0,000 
 troops were in the field, exclusive of the peasantry, who were 
 armed with pikes. These movements filled with astonishment 
 the courtsof Petersburgh and Berlin, who had flattered them- 
 selves that Poland was so far humblcd,and the spirit of the nation 
 «& bFoken,that it had no longer the power to make any resistance. 
 Being exasperated at this unexpected resistance, Catharine and 
 Frederick made great exertions to overcome the insurgents, as 
 they called them,and to defend the country they had forcibly an- 
 nexed to their own dominions. These two powers marched 1 1 0,- 
 ^0.0 meninto Poland, all regularand well-disciplined troops, which 
 gave them a decided superiority. Kosciusko, however, made a 
 skilful retreat upon Warsaw, where he was besieged by a large 
 Prussian army. He defended the place for ten weeks, when, 
 after sustaining a loss of 20,000 men the Prussian commander 
 was obliged to raise the siege and retire to his own territories. — 
 During this siege the Russians had overrun Lithuania and Volhy- 
 nia; and Kosciusko being at liberty, marched to oppose them. 
 The eyes of Europe and America were fixed on him,- as this 
 was justly viewed as the last struggle of an oppressed but bravo 
 people; all who loved liberty, or regarded justice, felt an ardent 
 desire for their success; and from the noble spirit which perva- 
 ded the nation, and from the victories which had been achieved, 
 <great hopes were entertained. These, however, were too soon 
 found to he fallacious; fortune did not favor the patriot chjef. 
 
5S0 KOSCIUSKO. 
 
 and Poland was destined to fall never to rise again, and to be 
 erased from the map of nations. Kosciusko and his brave 
 companions in arms, righting for their liberty, the independence 
 of their country, the safety of their wives and children, displayed 
 feats of bravery and determined perseverance, worthy of the 
 sacred cause in which they were engaged, with the disciplined 
 but ferocious barbarians of the north. 
 
 After some less important operations, a great battle was fought 
 at Matchevitz, on the 19th of October, (1794,) in which Kosci- 
 usko was defeated, and his brave patriot army almost annihilated. 
 The Russian general, Baron de Fersen, on learning that Kosci- 
 usko expected to be joined by Poniski, resolved to attack him 
 before a junction could be effected. The action commenced 
 before light, and continued to rage until past mid-day; the 
 patriots, animated by the example of their intrepid chief, fought 
 like men determined to conquer or die, and the latter, dreadful 
 alternative, was the unhappy fate of a large portion of these 
 brave men ; 6000 lay dead on the field, and nearly 2000 were 
 wounded or captured. Their intrepid leader was wounded 
 and made prisoner. He was advancing a few steps after he 
 received his wound, when a Cossack approached and aimed at 
 him a dreadful blow, which would inevitably have proved fatal, 
 had not a Russian officer, whose wife had been a prisoner to 
 Kosciusko, and been treated with great kindness by him, inter- 
 posed and stopped the blow. The prostrate hero, however, not 
 wishing to survive the fall of his country, requested the officer 
 if he really wished to do him a kindness, to permit the soldier to 
 put an end to his existance. But he was made a prisoner, con- 
 veyed to Petersburgh, and there confined in a fortress. The 
 last vial of wrath was poured out on Poland, and her fate was. 
 .irrevocably sealed; — 
 
 " Oh ! bloodiest picture in the book of time ! 
 Sarmatia fell unwept without a crime, 
 Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, 
 Strength in her arms, or mercy in her wo ; 
 Dropp'd from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear, 
 Clos'd her bright eye and curb'd her high career ; 
 Hope for a season bade the world farewell, 
 Aud Freedom shriek'd as Kosciusko fell.'-' 
 
KOSCIUSKO. 59£ 
 
 Tile whole country was now in the possession of the Russians 
 and Prussians, except Warsaw, where the troops of the inva- 
 ders were marching to besiege it. The brave Poles, "few but 
 undismayed," consisting of not more than 10,000 men, were 
 determined to make a desperate resistance, and to sell their 
 lives as dear as possible. As soon as the Russian army reached 
 the suburb of Prague, they erected during the night several 
 batteries, and a furious assault was then commenced. The two 
 first divisions, after suffering sevecely from a vigorous (ire of the 
 inhabitants for more than eight hours, at length overcoming all 
 •obstacles, rushed into the place, pursued the routed foe through 
 the-streets, slaughtered about two thousand of them, and drove 
 one thousand into the Vistula. The entrenchments were every 
 where forced, and the streets filled with dead; a regiment of 
 Jews having made an obstinate defence, were nearly all killed j 
 the fugitives being pursued to the river, which stopped their 
 flight, several thousands were massacred. Not satisfied with 
 the slaughter of the battle, about ten hours afterward, the ruth- 
 less and infamous Suwarrow, the Kcngis-Khan of modern limes, 
 ordered the city set on fire, and delivered the inhabitants up to 
 plunder and massacre. No age, sex, or condition was spared, 
 but all were alike exposed to the brutal violence of a ferocious 
 soldiery, and were involved in one common ruin. More than 
 .fifteen thousand persons were killed or drowned, and about the 
 same number made prisoners; a majority of whom were soon 
 after released. Humanity weeps over this horrid scene, and 
 Christianity blushes that such savage monsters should assume 
 her name. 
 
 King Stanislaus wag again taken to Grodno, and compelled 
 to resign his crown, and from thence was removed to St. Peters- 
 burgh, where he remained a prisoner until his death. As Russia 
 and Prussia were about dividing the spoil, Austria suddenly 
 stepped in and demanded a share; and unwilling to incur her 
 displeasure, and as stolen property is always valued rather 
 . lightly, they concluded to gratify her in her wishes, and the 
 remaining territories of Poland were divided among the three, 
 royal robbers. All the patriotic associates of Kosciusko shared 
 
S92 COUNT PULASKft 
 
 the same fate us their leader; they were imprisoned at Peters- 
 burg, and in other fortresses, where they remained until the ac- 
 cession of Paul, in 1796. He showed great liberality-4o the 
 persecuted Poles, and set most of them at liberty. Kosciousko 
 was among the number, he being permitted either to remain 
 in the Russian dominions, or to emigrate to America. He pre- 
 ferred to retire to the country of freedom, which he had as- 
 sisted in its struggle for its independence, and not long after- 
 ward came to the Unitod States. 
 
 We are not informed how long he remained here; but he had 
 returned to Europe previously to the last mighty struggle be- 
 tween France and the allied powers, and in 18J5, when the ar- 
 mies of the latter entered Paris, he was residing in that capitaJ. 
 He was sought out by the Polish soldiers, who regarding him as 
 the great patriot of their country, and remembering his toils, 
 exertions, and sacrifices in defence of its independence, and to 
 redeem its fading glory, could not sufficiently express their 
 gratitude and veneration for him, then weighed down with 
 years and sufferings, yet illustrious in his misfortunes. He died 
 soon after in France, at an advanced age ; and since, his remains 
 have been removed from a foreign grave, and deposited in the 
 cemetery of the kings of Poland, at Cracow, where they repose 
 with those of the great S'obieski. A monument of Carpathian 
 marble has recently been erected to the memory of Kosciusko,, 
 on the summit of Mount St. Bronislaway, in the neighborhod o£ 
 Cracow. The Emperor Alexander has since caused the re- 
 mains of Stanislaus Poniatowski to be removed from St. Pe* 
 tersburgh, where he died in 1798, to the same cemetery. 
 
 COUNT PULASKI. 
 
 Count Pulaski, a distinguished patriot of Poland, or/d A 
 partizan warrior; he was one of the distinguished foreigners, 
 who during our revolutionary struggle came to America, as a 
 soldier of liberty, to assist in lighting the battles of freedom.- 
 
COUNT pu'laski. 563 
 
 He had signalized his patriotism and valor in the disastrous war 
 in which his country was engaged in 1772, which terminated 
 in the first dismemberment of Poland. This unhappy war ori- 
 ginated from internal dissension, occasioned by an unjust and 
 impolitic decree respecting the privileges of the Protestants, in 
 Poland called the dissidents. Having petitioned and remon- 
 strated in vain, the dissidents, being encouraged by Russia, 
 Prussia, and Austria, were resolved to appeal to the sword for 
 the defence of their rights. A civil war was thus commenced, 
 which afforded an occasion for the ambitious and rapacious neigh- 
 bors of Poland to interfere, and as the pretended allies of one 
 of the contending parties, invade the country. This unjust in- 
 vasion aroused the spirit of the nation, and active preparations 
 were made to defend the country. The anti-Russian party, con- 
 sisting principally of the Catholics, were called the confederates; 
 and the other party, comprising the adherents of Russia, acted 
 in concert with the troops of the allies. The original cause of 
 the contest was changed; and it became really a struggle be- 
 tween the Russian and the anti-Russian parties, the former 
 being supported- by troops of the allies, and the latter feebly 
 assisted by Saxony and France. Some time previous to the 
 breaking out of this war, Stanislaus Poniatowski, a Polish noble- 
 man of high rank and distinction, had been elected king of Po- 
 land by the influence of Russia. The confederates, or the anti- 
 Russian party, were jealous of him, considered him as being 
 subservient to the court of Petersburgh, and believed that he 
 was secretly in favor of the malecontents, who had invited 
 foreign armies into the Country, and were acting with them in 
 carrying on hostilities. From these views, it became a great 
 object with the confederates, to depose Stanislaus and crush the 
 Russian faction, and rescue the country from the iufluence of 
 that dangerous neighbor. 
 
 Among the ardent partizans and leaders of the confederates, 
 was count Pulaski. By him, and other distinguished Poles, be- 
 longing to the anti-Russian association, it was believed that 
 Poland could never be safe nor tranquil, until it was rccued 
 from the paralyzing influence of Russia. And regarding the 
 75 
 
594 COUNT PULASKI. 
 
 king, (although as subsequent events proved, rather unjustly,) 
 as subservient to that power, Pulaski conceived and planned 
 the bold enterprize of seizing the king, and conveying him to 
 the camp of the confederates. Matters having been arranged 
 for the execution of this darmg achievement, Kosinski, and other 
 members of the anti-Russian association, who were intrusted 
 with its execution, surprised and seized the king at Warsaw, al- 
 though surrounded by a numerous body of guards, and conveyed 
 him into a neighboring forest. But his expostulations and en- 
 treaties had such an effect on Kosinski, that he released him, 
 and saved him from farther violence, he having been wounded 
 by the assailants. The king was so exasperated, that he de- 
 clared Pulaski an outlaw. 
 
 But the confederates receiving little or no assistance from 
 France or Saxony ; and the combined powers, bent on the con- 
 quest of the country, filling it with their troops, the contest re- 
 sulted as might have been expected, from the unequal means ot 
 the belligerent parties. The brave Poles were almost every 
 where defeated, and the numerous armies of the combined pow- 
 ers overcame all resistance, and made themselves masters of 
 the country. Their unprincipled designs were no longer dis- 
 guised; but they openly avowed their intention of seizing on a 
 considerable portion of the conquered country, and dividing the 
 spoil among themselves. A treaty to this effect having been 
 signed on the 2d of February, 1772, they immediately ordered 
 the Poles to convoke a diet, and sanction this violent dismem- 
 berment, under a threat of subjecting the country to military 
 execution, and treating it as a conquered state. By these vio- 
 lent measures, a majority of the diet was constrained to sanction 
 such injustice and rapacity. 
 
 Many, however, of the noble-minded Poles, rather than to be 
 the unwilling instruments of bringing their country to ruin, 
 prefered exile and poverty; and to avoid witnessing the de- 
 gradation of their native land, sought an asylum abroad. 
 Among this number were count Pulaski, and the illustrious 
 J^osciuskp, 
 
COUNT PULASKI. 595 
 
 War breaking out two years after, between the American 
 colonies and the parent country, this struggle of an infant peo- 
 ple with their powerful oppressors, excited the sympathies of 
 the friends of liberty throughout Europe, and invited many pa- 
 triots to our shores, who volunteered their services in the glo- 
 rious cause. Pulaski and Kosciusko were among the number: 
 they arrived, it is believed, early in the year 1777. Pulaski, 
 who had been an experienced cavalry officer at home, had a 
 command given him in the light-horse. He was first engaged 
 in the battle of the Brandywine, in which the young Marquis de 
 la Fayette, and many other foreigners were employed. Count 
 Pulaski, who commanded a party of horse, sustained his high 
 reputation for courage; his activity and exertions were conspi- 
 cuous throughout the engagement, and he was particularly no- 
 ticed by the cOmmander-in chief, as having distinguished him- 
 self. And congress were so much gratified with his conduct 
 and promise of usefulness in that branch of the service in which 
 he was employed, that they a few days afterward appointed him 
 a brigadier general, and commander of the horse. He contin- 
 ued with the army in Pennsylvania, during the remainder of the 
 campaign in 1777. Early the next year, when Baron Steuben 
 was appointed inspector general, and great exertions were made 
 by Washington to improve the discipline, and effect a radical 
 reform in the army, Count Pulaski was empowered to raise an 
 independent legion ; which he afterward accomplished, and or- 
 ganized and disciplined his men in an excellent manner. In the 
 fall of this year, he was unfortunately surprised by a party of 
 the enemy, and sustained considerable loss. Captain Ferguson, 
 having returned to Egg-Harbor from a predatory incursion, 
 there obtained information of some deserters from Pulaski's le- 
 gion, of the situation of that corps, which induced him to at- 
 tempt to surprise and attack it. Accordingly Ferguson, with 
 about two hundred and fifty men, embarked in barges in the 
 night, and landed near where a part of Pulaski's legion was 
 quartered, who, being asleep, and wholly unprepared and un- 
 suspicious of danger, were fallen upon, and about fifty of them 
 njassacred, including several officers of distinction. Pulaski. 
 
596 COUNT PULASKI. 
 
 having rallied his men as soon as he could, made an attempt to 
 cut off this party, which immediately retreated, but without 
 success. 
 
 In January, 1779, General Lincoln having been appointed to 
 the command of the southern department, Count Pulaski's light- 
 horse were ordered to the south. After the shameful flight of 
 General Ashe, the British, under General Prevost obtained pos- 
 session of the whole state of Georgia. The appointment about 
 this time of John Rutledge governor of South Carolina, clothed 
 with ample powers, produced a favorable effect, and soon 
 changed the gloomy aspect of affairs. Lincoln, finding himself 
 at the head of 5000 men, again resolved to act on the offensive. 
 He once more crossed the Savannah River, and took such a po- 
 sition as would enable him to intercept the supplies of the en- 
 emy, from the back parts of Georgia; leaving General Moultrie, 
 with 1000 men, at the Black Swamp. Count Pulaski's legion 
 of light-horse, formed a part of the force under Lincoln. The 
 American general had no sooner made this movement, than the 
 British commander determined to penetrate into South Carolina. 
 Having collected a force of 3000 men, he crossed the river in 
 several places, and, traversing swamps that had been deemed 
 impassable, appeared so unexpectedly, that the militia under 
 General Moultrie made very little resistance, and retreated 
 towards Charleston. 
 
 The British general, who at first probably intended his move- 
 ment only as a feint, to draw Lincoln back from his expedition, 
 emboldened by this success, resolved to push on to the capital 
 of South Carolina. He accordingly marched in pursuit of the 
 retreating militia, and coming up with Col. Laurens, who had 
 been left with a party to defend a bridge, after a sharp conflict for 
 some time, in which Laurens was wounded, compelled the Ame- 
 ricans to retire, and continued his march. Gen. Lincoln, judging 
 that the movement of Prevost was only a feint to draw him back, 
 despatched Colonel Harris, with 300 continentals, to reinforce 
 Moultrie, and continued his march towards the capital of Geor- 
 gia; but three days after, being convinced that the British gene- 
 ral meditated a serious attackupon Charleston, Lincoln turned 
 
COUNT PULA.SKI. 597 
 
 about and retraced his steps. Count Pulaski's legion of light 
 tooops, were immediately ordered on to join General Moultrie, 
 who moved with such rapidity, that they came up with him be- 
 ,fore he reached Charleston, and in conjunction with parties of 
 militia, made repeated stands on the retreat, and skirmished 
 with the advance guard of the enemy, which seemed to check 
 their march. Gen. Moultrie and Colonel Harris reached 
 Ciaarleston on the 9th of May ; and governor Rutledge, with a 
 body of militia, which had been stationed at Orangeburg as a 
 reserve, on the 10th; Pulaski arrived with his legion on the 
 11th; and on the same day, near one thousand of the enemy 
 came up, crossed the ferry of Ashley River, and advanced 
 towards the town. 
 
 Pulaski immediately conceived a plan to draw the enemy into 
 an ambuscade ; as soon as they approached, he marched at the 
 head of a single company of infantry, and posted them behind 
 a small breastwork which had previously been thrown up in a 
 valley, with orders to remain concealed; he then returned, and 
 .placingliimself at the head of a small party of horse, sallied out 
 and advanced a mile beyond the concealed infantry, with a view 
 to draw the enemy's cavalry into action, intending after a slight 
 skirmish to retreat, and thus draw the enemy's cavalry within 
 the reach of the concealed infantry. But the object was de- 
 feated by the ardour of the infantry; disregarding their orders, 
 they rushed, out from behind the breastwork, to join in the at- 
 tack, in consequence of which, being inferior in numbers to the 
 British, Pulaski was obliged to retreat. The enemy pressed 
 :hard upon tl lem, but they were met and resisted in the most in- 
 trepid mann er by Pulaski, whose example animated his men to 
 deeds of heroism, worthy of their brave leader. After this, se- 
 veral skirmi shes during the day and succeeding night occurred, 
 between the -. cavalry of the two hostile parties, in all of which 
 Pulaski's Iej ;ion, led on by their intrepid chief, displayed a cool- 
 ness and br avery which has seldom been surpassed, and which 
 reflected gi eat honour on their gallant commander, whose ex- 
 ertions and example stimulated his brave men to noble deeds. 
 Perhaps a b raver man than Pulaski never drew a sword; during 
 
a£>8 COUNT PULASKI. 
 
 these various encounters, he was repeatedly engaged in single 
 combat with individuals of .the enemy, and sometimes with fear- 
 ful odds. In the mean time, the troops within the town, and the 
 inhabitants of all ages arid both sexes, were actively employed 
 in strengthening their defences. 
 
 On the next day, the 1 2th, the town was summoned to sur- 
 render, and although the conditions offered were considered- 
 favorable; they were not accepted, and the negotiation was pro- 
 tracted through the day, by which means further time was ob- 
 tained for improving the means of defending the city. On the 
 13th, a most extraordinary proposition was submitted to the 
 British commander, which was that the whole state would re- 
 main neutral during the War, and its ultimate destiny to depjnd 
 on the peace. If any thing could exceed the pusillanimity and 
 folly of this proposition, it was the conduct of General Prevost 
 in refusing to accept it, and immediately breaking up his camp 
 and retreating, without farther negotiation, or making any at- 
 tempt upon the town. 
 
 General Lincoln pursued the enemy to Stono-Ferrey, where 
 on the 20th of June he attacked a part of Prevost's force, under. 
 Colonel Maitland, and sustained a sharp conflict for an hour and 
 a half with great advantage, when the enemy receiving a rein- 
 forcement, the Americans were compelled to retire, and being 
 hard pressed with fresh troops, considerable confusion ensued,, 
 at which juncture Pulaski's horse charged the enemy with such 
 gallantry and spirit as checked their advance, and enabled Ma- 
 son's Virginia brigade to move up and cover the retreat. 
 
 In the unfortunate siege of Savannah, Count Pulaski was 
 engaged with his legion, and displayed his accustomed activity 
 and valour, which however proved fatal, and terminated his 
 military and earthly career. The unexpected appearance of 
 the French fleet on the American coast alarmed the British 
 forces in Georgia. On the 13th of September, 1779, the Count 
 D'Estaing landed 3,000 men at Beaulieu, which, on the 15th. 
 were joined by Count Pulaski with his legion; but the rest of 
 the troops under General Lincoln, from the difficulties of the 
 r<jute, did not arrive until the 16th, when the allied armies united 
 
COUNT PULASKI. . 599 
 
 in front of the town of Savannah. Previously to this, Count 
 D'Estaing had appeared with his fleet before the town, and 
 summoned the garrison to surrender. General Prevost artfully 
 replied by requesting a truce for four and twenty hours to adjust 
 the terms of capitulation; his" only object, however, being to 
 obtain time to strengthen his works and means of defence. — 
 This request unfortunately was granted, and the time was em- 
 ployed by the besieged, in the most active exertions; and 
 within the time, General Prevost was reinforced by the arri- 
 val of his outposts which increased his force one-third. At the 
 close of the truce, Prevost informed the Count that he should 
 defend himself to the last extremity. On the 23d, the allied 
 armies broke ground for the siege, and proceeded in their work 
 with great activity. In ten days, more than fifty pieces of bat- 
 tering cannon and fourteen mortars were mounted ; which were 
 opposed by nearly one hundred of different sizes, and on the 
 fourth of October, a tremendous fire was commenced upon the 
 town. After the batteries had played on the town for several 
 days without much effect, Count D'Estaing being anxious about 
 the safety of his fleet, if the siege should be prolonged, proposed 
 to change the plan q( operations, and make an attempt upon the 
 town by storm. This Lincoln was obliged to agree to, as other- 
 wise the Count threatened to abandon the siege altogether. — 
 Unfortunately, information of the intended assault was conveyed 
 to Prevost, hy an officer who deserted from the Charleston 
 volunteers, which enabled him to prepare for it. Savannah is 
 protected from an attack by land by the river on one side, and 
 a deep morass on the other, extending parallel with the river in 
 the rear of the town. The assault was made on the morning of 
 the 9th, before daylight, by two columns on the enemies right; 
 one commanded by Count D'Estaing and General Lincoln in 
 concert, and the other by Count Dillon. The former moved 
 along the margin of the morass, covered by the darkness, to 
 within a short distance of the enemiy's line, when their concealed 
 batteries being unmasked, a destructive fire was opened upon 
 them, which made great havoc. Undismayed by this slaughter, 
 the column continued to advance, and D'Estaing and Ljucolh 
 
600 COUNT PULASKI 
 
 forced the abattis, and placed their standards on the parapet , 
 at this time had the other column came up, the assault would 
 have succeeded, and the possession of the enemy's works been 
 certain; but Count Dillon unfortunately lost his way in the 
 darkness, and failed in affording the expected co-operation. — 
 At this crisis, Colonel Maitland made a vigorous attack on the 
 brave soldiers who had planted their standards on the parapet, 
 who were forced into the ditch, the flags torn down, and the 
 whole column compelled to retire through the abattis. This 
 disastrous result of the attack, would probably have been avoi- 
 ded, but for the fatal termination of the gallant career of the 
 brave Pulaski. At the moment Colonel Maitland, with his own 
 corps united with the marines and grenadiers, under Lieut. 
 Colonel Grazier, pushed forward to attack the assailants, Pu- 
 laski perceiving the danger to which the allied column was pla- 
 ced, made a bold effort at the head of two hundred horsr*, to 
 force his way through the enemy's works and gain the rear of 
 Maitland, which would have placed that brave and skillful offi- 
 cer in a critical situation, and in all probability have changed 
 the fate of the day; but whilst advancing at the head of liis men, 
 exposed to the most tremedous fire, the intrepid Pulaski received 
 a mortal wound, and fell from his horse. The fall of their 
 heroic leader stopped the progress of the squadron, and the}' 
 immediately retreated. He lived (wo days, and expired on the 
 11th of October, 1779. Thus fell in a most bold and daring 
 achievement, the distinguished Polish patriot and hero, in the 
 cause of American liberty: his memory is entitled to our vene- 
 ration, as his life forms an item in the price of our independence. 
 Soon after Congress resolved, that a monument should be erected 
 to his memory; but this paper statue, and the heroic deeds of a 
 bold and adventurous life, constitute the only monument that 
 has been erected to his memory, or which serves to perpetuate 
 his fame. 
 
( G04 ) 
 
 BARON DE KALB. 
 
 Baron de Kalb was a native of Germany; but, having long 
 been employed in the service of France, previous to the com- 
 mencement of the American revolution, he possessed the char- 
 acter of a French officer, if not of a French citizen, when he 
 Came to the United States. He arrived here in 1777, and beinc 
 an officer of great experience, and undoubted courage, he re- 
 ceived the commission of major-general from congress. Early in 
 the year following, he was selected as one of the officers in the 
 expedition, which had been planned against Canada, and pro- 
 ceeded to Albany to engage in the enterprise, the command of 
 which was intrusted to the young Marquis de la Fayette; but the 
 preparations being wholly inadequate, the expedition was aban- 
 doned. Generals Conway and Stark were also to have joined 
 in the enterprise. 
 
 In the summer of 1780, after the surrender of Charleston, and 
 the submission of the whole of South Carolina to the royal au- 
 thority, and all resistance in that quarter had nearly ceased, the 
 Baron -de Kalb was ordered by congress to the south, to revive a 
 spirit of resistance and arrest, if possible, the prevailing for- 
 tunes of the victorious enemy. The situation of the southern 
 states, at this time, was truly alarming; Georgia and South Car- 
 olina were conquered, and North Carolina was quiet, and ap- 
 parently overawed ; and congress felt the necessity of directing 
 their attention, in a particular manner, to that quarter, and of 
 making every possible effort to retrieve their fallen fortunes, in 
 that department of the war. The ordering of Baron de Kalb,at 
 this, time to that station, is a strong evidence of the confidence 
 congress reposed in his talents. General Gates, whose reputa- 
 tion at this time was perhaps second to that of no officer, 
 except the commander-in-chief, was appointed to the chief com-* 
 mand in the southern department; and great hopes were in- 
 dulged from the exertions of two such distinguished generals. 
 Baron de Kalb arrived at Hillsborough iu North Carolina, at 
 
 76 
 
 
602 BARON DE KALB. 
 
 the head of two thousand continentals, consisting of the Mary- 
 land and Delaware lines. His approach revived the despondent 
 hopes, and animated the drooping spirits of the inhabitants; the 
 militia flocked to his standard from North Carolina and Vir- 
 ginia, and were soon organized and prepared to join him on his 
 march. He had not proceeded far, before he was overtaken by 
 General Gates, who assumed the chief command; and this 
 increased the joy which had already been excited, and produced 
 sanguine hopes of a successful campaign. The aspect of affairs 
 was at once changed; the. gloom of despondency was succeeded 
 by the brigntening rays of high expectations; which counteracted 
 "the effects of the proclamations of Clinton and Cornwallis, and 
 brought many to the American standard, who a short time 
 before had exchanged their paroles forthe oath of allegiance. 
 General Gates, relying on these favourable circumstances, 
 and not sufficiently cautious, seemed only desirous of meeting 
 the enemy. He changed the route, which the prudence of the 
 Baron de Kalb had selected, leading through a district which 
 afforded abundant supplies for the troops, and pursued a nearer 
 route, but which led through a barren country scarcely settled, 
 and where no provisions could be obtained, but green corn and 
 unripe fruits. This occasioned a fatal sickness, of which manv 
 died, and more became unfit for duty; and the horses also suffered 
 for want of forage, which rendered them of little use : General 
 Gates moved toLyncVs Creek, which alone separated him from 
 Lord Rawdon, when the latter immediately retreated to Camden 
 and despatched intelligence of the approach of the American 
 army to Cornwallis. General Gates moved on to Rudgley's 
 Mills, where he halted and encamped. Here being informed 
 by General Sumpler, that a party of the enemy were on their 
 way, with stores for the army at Camden, and that with a detach- 
 ment of artillery he could intercept them, Gates ordered Col. 
 Woolford, with four hundred men and twofield pieces to his aid. 
 General Gates was joined here by General Stevens, with 
 several hundred Virginia militia; and although he had weak- 
 ened his force by detaching Colonel Woolford, he still prepared 
 to march to Camden, and seemed to suppose that Lord Rawdon 
 
BARON DB KALB. 6Q3 
 
 would retreat at his approach, as he had done at Lynclfs Creek; 
 and he was entirely ignorant of Lord Cornwallis's arrival. 
 
 The very night that Gates moved from Rudgley's Mills, 
 Cornwallis marched from Camden, with the intention of surpri- 
 sing him in his position. The advanced guards of the two 
 armies met on the morning of the 16th, some hours before dawn 
 of light. Armond's squadron of cavalry, which was in advance, 
 was immediately thrown back in confusion^pn the Maryland 
 regiment, which occasioned some disorder; but the light infan- 
 try, which flanked the army, opposed the advance of the enemy's 
 van, and this first apprized the two generals of the proximity 
 of their armies. Neither being willing to risk an action in the 
 dark, both immediately halted and prepared for action. The 
 situation, which was the result of accident, and not of choice 
 6b either side, was precisely what the enemy desired, as the 
 deep swamps, on both sides, prevented the Americans from pre- 
 senting a more extended line than the enenay, which, from their 
 superior numbers, they might have done, would the ground have 
 admitted of it. There w r ere about y,000 of the British, and about 
 3,700 Americans, of which, however, one thousand only were 
 continentals. The enemy w r ere drawn up in one line, extending 
 across the whole ground, and flanked by the swamps on both 
 sides. Colonel Webster was stationed on the right, and Lord 
 Rawdonon the left: in front of the line, the artillery, with four 
 field-pieces, were posted ; the reserve were posted at two stations 
 in the rear, near the centre of each wing, at each of which was 
 one six pounder; and the cavalry occupied the road in the rear, 
 which, with the reserve, formed the second line. General 
 Gates changed the first disposition of his troops; the second 
 Maryland brigade and the Delaware regiment were posted on 
 the right, under General Gist: the centre was occupied by 
 General Caswell, with the North Carolina militia; and the 
 Virginia militia, commanded by General Stevens, were placed 
 m the left, being opposed to the best troops of the enemy. — 
 The artillery was divided among the several brigades ; and the. 
 first Maryland brigade, under General Smallwood, formed the 
 reserve. The line of battle was intrusted to the Baron de 
 
{X)4 BARON DE KALIi. 
 
 Kalb, who was posted on the right, great reliance being placed 
 on his experience and known intrepidity; he was to watch the 
 movements of the whale line, and direct his exertions where 
 circumstances might indicate. General Gates was stationed in 
 die road, between the reserve and the front line. 
 
 The action was commenced by a vigorous attack on the, 
 American left, by the enemy's right, which were their best 
 troops; this wasjmmediately followed by the discharge of ar- 
 tillery from our centre, and the action was soon commenced 
 along the whole line. The Virginia militia on our left, unable 
 to stand the vigorous assault of the British veterans, after one 
 fire threw down their arms and fled ; and their pernicious exam- 
 ple was immediately followed by the North Carolina brigade in 
 our centre; and all the exertions of their officers, and of Gen. 
 Gates in person, to rally them was ineffectual: rilled with con- 
 sternation, they continued their cowardly flight until they 
 reached a place of safety. The centre of the American line 
 being thus broken, the right, consisting of the Maryland brigade 
 and Delaware regiment, led by the gallant De Kalb, had to 
 sustain the whole force of the action, De Kalb and Gist were 
 pushing on with decided advantage, at the time the militia gave 
 way, which stopped their advance, and brought the whole fire 
 of the enemy upon them; animated by their brave leader, they 
 resolutely sustained this unequal contest for a considerable time, 
 and until all the other troops had retreated: several times were 
 the enemy's van driven in with loss. General Smallwood, with 
 the first Maryland brigade, which had formed the reserve, 
 advanced and took the place of the fugitives on the left, which 
 exposed him to the whole corps of Webster's veterans, on the 
 enemy's right. The shock was too heavy for militia; three 
 times was General Smallwood compelled to give way, and with 
 determined valour three times did he return to the charge, and 
 would probably have maintained his ground had not the re- 
 maining regimeni of North Carolina militia, which for some 
 time seemed resolved to retrieve the disgrace of their country- 
 men, finally gave way, which compelled Smallwood's regiment 
 fo retire in some disorder from so unequal and destructive » 
 
BARON DE KALB, 60S 
 
 contest. This left the right the second ti me exposed to the w] I < 
 force of the enemy. Few, but undismayed, the brave conlinen ; 
 tals, animated by the neroic conduct vt their chief, made a 
 determined effort to sustain the honour of the field a' a 
 
 the vast superiority of the enemy, their fire was heavy and 
 destructive, and could not be returned with the same effect; 
 De Kalb, therefore, placed his last hopes on the bayonet, and, 
 making a desperate charge, drove the enemy before him with 
 considerable advantage. But at this time, Coruwallis, perceiv- 
 ing that the American cavalry had left the field, ordered Col. 
 Tarlton to charge with his cavalry, and, having concentrated 
 his whole force, the charge was made with the usual impetuosity 
 of that daring officer. This was decisive of the desperate 
 conflict, and fatal to the gallant officer who is the subject of (his 
 brief notice. Fatigued from their long and arduous efforts, the 
 heroic continentals, who had sustained almost the whole burden 
 of the day, were unable to withstand the charge; and their 
 gallant leader, who was himself a host, having fallen, they were 
 compelled to leave a field which they had so honorable defended, 
 and seek safety by flight. The victory, and the dispersion of 
 the Americans, was complete; and the fugitives were pursued 
 for more than twenty miles. The troops under De kalb, on the 
 right, suffered as might be supposed, most severely; the Dela- 
 ware regiment was nearly destroyed, two companies only being 
 left, and more than one third of the continentals w r ere killed 
 and wounded. 
 
 Perhaps no officer ever exerted himself more, in a single ac = 
 rion, than did the Baron de Kalb on this occasion; he did all that 
 man could do to retrieve the fortune of the day, exposing hint- 
 self to constant and imminent danger. He received eleven 
 wounds in the course of the action; but kept his post and con- 
 tinued his exertions until the last, which proved mortal. As he 
 fell, his aid, Lieutenant-colonel de Buysson, caught him in his' 
 arms, to save him from the uplifted bayonets of the enemy, 
 which he warded off by receiving them in his own body. In his 
 last moments the Baron dictated a letter to General Smallwood, 
 who succeeded to his command, expressing a warm affection fax 
 
606 BARON DE STEUBEN. 
 
 the Americans and the cause in which they were engaged, anJ 
 his admiration of the conduct of the troops under his immediate 
 command, whose bravery and firmness, in so unequal a contest, 
 he said, had called forth the commendation even of the enemy 5 
 and concluded by expressing the satisfaction he felt in having 
 fallen in the defence of the independence and liberties of Ame- 
 rica, a cause so dear to the lovers of liberty and the friends of 
 humanity, in Europe as well as America. He survived only a 
 few days: an ornamental tree was planted at the head of his 
 grave, near Camden, and congress, duly sensible of his merits^ 
 passed a resolution directing a monument to be erected to his 
 memory, with very honorable inscriptions, at Annapolis, in Ma- 
 ryland ; but the resolution, it is believed, has never been carried 
 into effect, and the gratitude and plighted faith of the nation 
 both remain unredeemed. He was in the forty-eighth year of 
 his age ; most of his life had been spe nt in military employments, 
 and the last three years in America, with distinguished repu- 
 tation. 
 
 BARON DE STEUBEN, 
 
 Major-general in the American army. 
 
 Frederick William Steuben was a native of Prussia, and 
 born in the year 1735. Being designed for the profession of 
 arms, he received a military education, and was early engaged 
 in military employments. His military science, undoubted bra- 
 very, and assiduous attention to duty, did not escape the pene- 
 tration of the great Frederick, and soon procured for the young 
 Baron the confidence of his sovereign, and the most honorable 
 preferment. For many years, he served in the memorable cam- 
 paigns of his sovereign, the greatest commander of the age^ 
 with distinguished reputation. This was a school, in which the 
 dullest could hardly fail of acquiring experience and knowledge 
 in the art of war; and at the same time opened a field, suffi- 
 riently capacious for the most ardent aspirant for military famci 
 
BARON DE STEUBEN. CUV 
 
 The war, which was terminated by the peace of 1763, in which 
 •F ranee, Austria, Russia, Sweden and Saxony were united 
 against Prussia, and which was commenced on the part of the 
 allies, for the conquest and spoliation of the dominions of his 
 Prussian majesty, afforded the boldest and most successful cam- 
 paigns, and the most splendid victories, of any in modern time*. 
 The exertions of the king of Prussia, in sustaining himself, 
 with the assistance of Great Britain, as his ally, against so many, 
 and so powerful enemies, was truly astonishing. But his ac- 
 tive genius overcame all difficulties, taught his enemies to re- 
 spect him, and secured to him a military reputation, not second 
 to any commander of the age. To have served with this great 
 general, in his memorable campaigns, and taken a part in such 
 great and splendid victories as those of Prague, Lissa, Crcvelt, 
 Zoondorff,Blinden, and Torgau, was sufficient to confer experi- 
 ence, and establish a military character, of no ordinary distinc- 
 tion. But to have performed this service under a commander so 
 severe, with success and honor, and to-have secured his higher 
 confidence, was a more conclusive proof of military genius and 
 talents. And that Baron Steuben did this, is sufficiently evi- 
 dent, from the single fact, were there no other, of his having 
 served as aid to his Prussian majesty ; who would have no officer 
 around his person, that did not sustain the first reputation for 
 courage and capacity. The Baron rose to the high rank of 
 lieutenant-general in the Prussian service. 
 
 At the breaking out of the American war, there was a gene- 
 ral peace in Europe; which favored the wishes of those patriots 
 and adventurers in that hemisphere, who desired to signalize 
 their valor and patriotism, in assisting an infant people, strug- 
 gling for their rights. Among the numerous foreigners, who hon- 
 ored the American cause, by crossing the Atlantic to serve i(, 
 some no doubt acted from no other motive, than those which 
 usually govern the conduct of military adventurers. Many, 
 however, without doubt, were influenced by more noble and ex- 
 alted motives; a regard for liberty, and a sincere desire to es- 
 tablish it in the new world; which might serve both as an asy 
 lum. and an example for the old. And, notwithstanding the ar-i 
 
608 BARON DE STEUBEN. 
 
 bitrary government of Prussia, under which he had lived, such 
 were the sentiments and views of Baron de Steuben. His en- 
 lightened mind led him to esteem civil liberty, as the highest 
 earthly good; and he was desirous of consecrating his attach- 
 ment to it, by his services, if not by his blood. He sailed from 
 France to the United States, and arrived at Portsmouth, in 
 New Hampshire, in November, 1777. He brought with him 
 strong recommendations from the American commissioners at 
 Paris, and others, to congress. Notwithstanding which, how- 
 ever, he informed that body, that he wished for no rank, or com- 
 pensation, and only requested permission, as a volunteer, to ren- 
 der what service he could to the American army, and the cause 
 in which the country was engaged. The following winter he 
 spent at Valley Forge, where the American army was in winter 
 quarters, under Washington. As is well known, the army a't 
 this time was in a most suffering condition; being in want of 
 provisions, clothing, and almost every thing which their comfort 
 required. But, notwithstanding these discouraging circumstan- 
 ces, Baron de Steuben exerted himself, with great assiduity to 
 improve the discipline and .manoeuvres of the army. From his 
 great military science and experience, his prudent conduct, and 
 the interest he manifested in the cause he had espoused, he 
 soon acquired the confidence of Washington. Early in the year 
 1778, General Conway resigned the office of inspector general: 
 and Washington, sensible of the great military skill and ac- 
 quirements of Steuben, immediately recommended him to con- 
 gress, for that important post; which was soon after conferred 
 on him, with the rank of major-general. 
 
 Being clothed with authority, and it being now his particular 
 duty to attend to the discipline of the troops, his distinguished 
 talents as a tactician were soon rendered conspicuous in the 
 improved discipline of the troop3. He exerted himself to in- 
 troduce a uniform and improved system of manoeuvres, and by 
 his skill, perseverence, and industry, effected, during the con- 
 tinuance of the troops at Valley Forge, a most important and 
 advantageous improvement in the discipline of all ranks of the 
 arm a-, 
 
BARON DE STEUBEN. 009 
 
 After General Arnold had treacherously deserted his post at 
 West Point, the Baron never failed to manifest his indignation 
 and abhorrence of his name and character, and while inspecting 
 Col. Sheldon's regiment of light-horse, the name of Arnold 
 struck his ear. The soldier was ordered to the front; he was a 
 fine looking fellow, his horse and equipments in excellent order 
 — "Change your name, brother soldier," said the Baron, "you 
 are too respectable to bear the name of a traitor." "What 
 name shall I take, General?" "Take any other name; mine is 
 at your service." Most cheerfully was the offer accepted, and 
 his name was entered on the roll as Steuben. He or his children 
 now enjoy the land given to him in the town of Steuben, by the 
 Baron. This brave soldier met him after the war. "lam well 
 settled, General," said he, "and have a wife and son; I have 
 called my son after you, Sir." "I thank you, my friend; what 
 name have you given the boy?" "I called him Baron — what 
 else could I call him?" 
 
 When Sir Henry Clinton evacuated Philadelphia for New 
 York, and was pursued by Washington, Steuben accompanied 
 the American army; and although he had no particular com- 
 mand, he volunteered in the action of Monmouth. He contin- 
 ued his exertions to improve the discipline of the army, and to 
 introduce his system, and thus establish uniformity throughout 
 the different corps of the army; and for this purpose, in 1779, 
 an abstract of his system of discipline and tactics was published 
 incompliance with the wishes of the commander-in-chief, and 
 of congress. This being put into the hands of all the officers, 
 had a wonderful influence in improving, and giving uniformity 
 to the different corps of the army. 
 
 In October 1780, after the defeat and dispersion of the south- 
 ern army at Camden, under General Gates, great anxiety was 
 felt for the fate of the southern states: and congress, in a parti- 
 cular manner, directed their attention to the state of the war in 
 that department. General Greene was appointed to supercede 
 Gates; Major Lee was promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colo- 
 nel, and ordered to join the southern army, with his legionary 
 corps ; and Baron de Steuben was directed to proceed to Virgi- 
 
 77 
 
610 BARON DE STEUBEN. 
 
 nia, to organize, from the militia, and other elements which the 
 state afforded, the means of defence against the forces of the 
 enemy, then in the state, and threatening the destruction of its 
 principal towns. 
 
 While upon this duty, a regiment had been collected, and 
 was paraded on the point of marching, when a well-looking 
 man on horseback rode up and informed the Baron that he had 
 brought him a recruit. "I thank you, Sir," said the Baron, 
 "with all my heart — where is your man, Colonel?" for he was 
 a colonel in the militia. "Here, Sir," ordering his boy to dis- 
 mount. The Baron's countenance changed, for he was too hon- 
 est to suffer an imposition to be practised on the public. A ser- 
 geant was ordered to measure the lad, whose shoes, when off, 
 discovered something by which his stature had been increased. 
 The Baron, patting the child's head, with his hands trembling 
 with rage, asked him how old he was? He was very young, 
 quite a child. "Sir," said he, to the militia colonel, "you must 
 have supposed me to be a rascal." "Oh no! Baron, I did not." 
 "Then, Sir, I suppose you to be a rascal, an infamous rascal, 
 thus to attempt to cheat your country. Sergeant, take off this 
 fellow's spurs and place him in the ranks, that we may have a 
 man able to serve instead of an infant, whom he would basely 
 have made his substitute ! Go, my boy, take the colonel's spurs 
 and horse to his wife ; make my compliments, and say, her hus- 
 band has gone to fight for the freedom of his country, as an 
 honest man should do;" and instantly ordered — "Platoons! to 
 the right wheel — forward march!" 
 
 Colonel Gaskins, who commanded the regiment, fearing the 
 consequences, after marching some distance, allowed the man 
 to escape, who immediately made application to the civil au- 
 thority for redress; but Gov. Jefferson, Mr. Madison, and others, 
 not doubting the purity of the Baron's motive, and fully appre. 
 <ciating his honest zeal, prevented any disagreeable results at- 
 tending this high-handed exertion of military power. 
 
 Great apprehensions were felt for the safety of Richmond, 
 threatened by the British General Leslie, at Portsmouth; but 
 about the time the Baron arrived at the capital of Virginia, the 
 
BARON DE STEUBEN. 61 i 
 
 enemy left Portsmouth, which prevented the necessity of those 
 measures which had been planned for his expulsion, and Vir- 
 ginia, for a short time, remained tranquil. Early in January, 
 7 81, however, this repose was disturbed by the arrival of the 
 iraitor Arnold in the Chesapeake, who landed his forces on the 
 James River, a few miles below Richmond. His ravages were 
 immediately felt at Richmond, Smithfield, and other places. 
 Baron de Steuben exerted himself to collect and organize a 
 force of militia to oppose his destructive progress. This indu- 
 ced Arnold to retire to Portsmouth, and commence works of de- 
 fence. But the militia came i:i slow, and a considerable portion 
 of which being without arms, the Baron could do no more than 
 protect the country from the predatory incursions of small par- 
 ties. These movements in Virginia, induced congress to order 
 La Fayette to the south, to oppose Arnold, with the expected 
 co-operation of the French fleet. All the troops of the conti- 
 nental establisment of Virginia, being under General Greene, 
 in South Carolina, the defence of the state, against the depre- 
 dations of the enemy, rested on the militia, of which the Baron 
 had collected about 2,000; one half were on the north side of 
 James River, under General Nelson, and with the other half 
 the Baron made an attempt to protect Petersburgh, but his 
 means being wholly inadequate io the object, he was obliged to 
 retreat, and suffer the enemy to enter the town. Previous to 
 this, Arnold had been reinforced by General Phillips, who had 
 taken the chief command. The Baron could do no more than 
 watch the motions of the enemy, and check the predatory 
 incursions of small parties. 
 
 On the arrival of the Marquis de La Fayette, with a small 
 force of regulars, he joined Steuben, and took upon him the 
 chief command. Their united force checked the progress of 
 General Phillips, and compelled him to turn his steps towards 
 City-Point, where his fleet lay. 
 
 In the various marches and countermarches which charac- 
 terized the operations between La Fayette and Lord Cornwallis, 
 who soon after assumed the command of the British forces in 
 Virginia, the Baron Steuben afforded the most prompt and 
 
tills BARON DE STEUBEN. 
 
 ready assistance to the young Marquis. He was stationed a r 
 Point Fork, with 500 new levies to protect the American store?, 
 when Tarleton was ordered to destroy them; and as the enemy 
 approached, being led into a belief that the whole British army 
 was near, he deemed it advisable to make a rapid retreat during 
 the night, leaving all the stores to fall a sacrifice to the enemy. 
 But though he lost the stores, he saved his men, and succeeded 
 in joining the Marquis, at the same time that he received a 
 reinforcement of the rifle corps, under Colonel Clark, which 
 enabled the Marquis to assume a more imposing attitude. The 
 Baron continued to co-operate with La Fayette in the subse- 
 quent events of the campaign, which was terminated by the siege 
 of Yorktown. He generally had the command of militia, or of 
 new levies, and was improving their discipline whilst he was 
 aiding the operations of the Marquis. He was present during 
 the siege of Yorktown, and exerted himself with great ardour 
 in the various operations, and commanded in the trenches on 
 the day the enemy surrendered, and was entitled to a share in 
 the honor of this memorable siege, which so gloriously termi- 
 nated the great struggle in which the country was engaged. 
 
 "At the siege of Yorktown the Baron was in the trenches, at 
 the head of his division, and received the first overture of Lord 
 Cornwallis to capitulate. At the relieving hour, next morning, 
 the Marquis de la Fayette approached at the head of his divi- 
 sion to relieve him. The Baron refused to quit the trenches, 
 assigning as a reason the etiquette in Europe, that the offer to 
 capitulate had .been made during his tour of duty, and that it 
 was a point of honor of which he would not deprive his troops, 
 to remain in the trend es till the capitulation was signed or hos- 
 tilities recommenced. The dispute was referred to the comman- 
 der-in-chief, and the Baron was permitted to remain till the 
 British flag was struck. While on this duty, the Baron perceiving 
 himself in danger from a shell thrown from the enemy, threw 
 himself suddenly into the trench; General Wayne, in the jeop- 
 ardy and hurry of the moment fell on him; the Baron turning 
 his eyes saw it was his brigadier, " I always km w you were a 
 brave general," said he, ' but I did not know you were so perfect 
 
BARON DE STEUBEN. 613 
 
 in every point of duty, you cover your general's retreat in the 
 best manner possible.' "* > 
 
 The Baron returned to the northward, and remained with 
 the army, continually employed, till the peace, in perfecting 
 its discipline. 
 
 " At the disbandment of the revolutionary army, when inmates 
 of the same tent, or hut, for seven long years were separating, 
 and probably for ever; grasping each other's hand, in silent 
 agony," I saw, says Dr. Thatcher, in his Military Journal, 
 " the Baron's strong endeavors to throw some ray of sunshine 
 on the gloom, to mix some drop of cordial with the painful 
 draught. To go, they knew not whither; all recollection of the 
 art to thrive by civil occupations lost, or to the youthful never 
 known. Their hardearned military knowledge worse than 
 useless, and with their badge of brotherhood, a mark at which 
 to point the finger of suspicion — ignoble vile suspicion! to be 
 cast out on a world, long since by them forgotten. Severed 
 from friends, and all the joys and griefs which soldiers feel! 
 Griefs, while hope remained — when shared by numbers, almost 
 joys! To go in silence and alone, and poor and hopeless; it was 
 too hard! On that sad day how many hearts were wrung? I 
 saw it all, nor will the scene be ever blurred or blotted from my 
 view. To a stern old officer, a Lieutenant-Colonel Cochran, 
 from the Green Mountains, who had met danger and difficulty 
 almost in every step from his youth, and from whose furrowed 
 visage a tear till that moment had never fallen, the Baron said — 
 what could be said, to lessen deep distress. 'For myself,' said 
 Cochran, ' I care not, I can stand it; but my wife and daughters 
 are in the garret of that wretched tavern. I know not where 
 to remove, nor have I means for their removal!' ' Come, my 
 friend,' said the Baron, ' let us go — I will pay my respects to 
 Mrs. Cochran and your daughters, if you please.' I followed 
 to the loft, the lower rooms being all filled with soldiers, with 
 drunkenness, despair, and blasphemy. And when the Baron 
 left the poor unhappy cast-aways, he left hope with them, and 
 all he had to give. — A black man, with wounds unhealed, wept 
 *Thacher's Military Journal. 
 
614 BARON -DE STEUBEN. 
 
 on the wharf — (for it was at Newburgh where this tragedy was 
 acting) — there was a vessel in the stream, bound to the place 
 where he once had friends. H. had not a dollar to pay his 
 passage, and he could not walk. Unused to tears, I saw them 
 trickle down this good man's cheeks as he put into the hands of 
 the black man the last dollar he possessed. The negro hailed 
 the sloop, and cried, ' God Almighty bless you master Baron'.' 
 " What good and honorable man, civil or military, before the 
 party spirit murdered friendships, did not respect and love the 
 Baron? Who most? Those who knew him best. After the 
 peace the Baron retired to a farm in the vicinity of New York, 
 where, with forming a system for the organization and discipline 
 of the militia, books, chess, and the frequent visits of his 
 numerous friends, he passed his time as agreeably as a frequent 
 want of funds would permit. The state of New Jersey had 
 given him a small improved farm, and the state of New York 
 gave him a tract of sixteen thousand acres of land in the county 
 of Oneida. After the general government was in full operation, 
 by the exertions of Colonel Hamilton, patronised and enforced 
 by President Washington, a grant of two thousand five hundred 
 dollars per annum was made to him for life. The summers,were 
 now chiefly spent on his land, and his winters in the city. His 
 sixteen thousand acres of land were in the uncultivated wilder- 
 ness; he built a convenient log-house, cleared sixty acres,, 
 parcelled out his land on easy terms to twenty or thirty tenants, 
 distributed nearly a tenth of the tract in gifts to his aids-de-camp 
 and servants, and sat himself down to a certain degree contented 
 without society, except that of a young gentleman who read to 
 and with him. He ate only at dinner, but he ate with a strong 
 appetite. In drinking he was always temperate; indeed he 
 was free from every vicious habit. His powers of mind and 
 body were strong, and he received to a certain extent, a liberal 
 education. His days were undoubtedly shortened by his se- 
 dentary mode of life. He was seized with an appoplexy, which 
 in a fewhours was fatal. Agreeably to his desire often expressed, 
 he was wrapped in his cloak, placed in a plain coffin, and hid in 
 the earth, without a stone to tell where he lies. A few neigh- 
 
BARON DE STEUBEN. 6l5 
 
 botfrs, his servants, the young gentleman his late companion, and 
 one on whom for fifteen years his countenance never ceased to 
 beam with kindness, followed to the gra\e. It was in a thick, 
 a lonely wood ; but in a few years after a public highway was 
 opened near or over the hallowed sod! Colonel Walker 
 snatched the poor remains of his dear friend from a sacreligious 
 violation, and gave a bounty to protect the grave in which he 
 laid them, from rude and impious intrusion. He died in 1795, 
 in the 65th year of his age."* 
 
 Baron Steuben possessed profound and extensive professional 
 knowledge, the result of much study and experience, which was 
 united with a competent share of general science and intelli- 
 gence, matured by great experience; he was accomplished in 
 his manners, correct in his morals, and was sincerely attached to 
 the dearest interest of humanity. His system of discipline and 
 tactics, was adopted in the militia of the United States, and 
 continued to be used for a great number of years ; and had a 
 very extensive and salutary influence in promoting discipline and 
 knowledge of the use of arms. 
 
 *Tha«het's Military Journal, 
 
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