[Illustration: Mme. Roland in the Prison of Ste. Pélagie. ]

GREAT MEN AND FAMOUS WOMEN

_A Series of Pen and Pencil Sketches of_

THE LIVES OF MORE THAN 200 OF THE MOST PROMINENT PERSONAGES IN HISTORY

VOL. VI. 

Copyright, 1894, BY SELMAR HESS

edited by Charles F. Horne

[Illustration: Publisher's arm. ]

New-York: Selmar Hess Publisher

Copyright, 1894, by SELMAR HESS. 

CONTENTS OF VOLUME VI. 

 SUBJECT AUTHOR PAGE

 BENEDICT ARNOLD, _Edgar Fawcett_, 207 PETER COOPER, _Clarence Cook_, 299 CHARLOTTE CORDAY, _Oliver Optic_, 229 GENERAL GEORGE A. CUSTER, _Elbridge S. Brooks_, 391 SIR HUMPHRY DAVY, _John Timbs, F. S. A. _, 277 THOMAS ALVA EDISON, _Clarence Cook_, 404 JOHN ERICSSON, _Martha J. Lamb_, 311 CYRUS W. FIELD, _Murat Halstead_, 354 GENERAL JOHN C. FRÉMONT, _Jane Marsh Parker_, 340 ROBERT FULTON, _Oliver Optic_, 267 WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON, _William Lloyd Garrison_, 318 GENERAL CHARLES GEORGE GORDON, _Colonel R. H. Veitch, R. E. _, 384 NATHAN HALE, _Rev. Edward Everett Hale_, 212 ANDREAS HOFER, 246 DR. EDWARD JENNER, _John Timbs, F. S. A. _, 263 ELISHA KENT KANE, _General A. W. Greely_, 325 THADDEUS KOSCIUSKO, 216 LOUIS KOSSUTH, 304 MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE, _William F. Peck_, 221 FERDINAND DE LESSEPS, _Clarence Cook_, 334 DAVID LIVINGSTONE, _Professor W. G. Blaikie, L. L. D. _, 350 _Letter of Affection and Advice from Livingstone to his Children_, 353 QUEEN LOUISE OF PRUSSIA, _Mrs. Francis G. Faithfull_, 249 MARIE ANTOINETTE, _Mrs. Octavius Freire Owen_, 241 _Letter to Marie Antoinette from Maria Theresa on the Duties of a Sovereign_, 242 SAMUEL F. B. MORSE, 297 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE, _Lizzie Alldridge_, 369 DR. LOUIS PASTEUR, _Dr. Cyrus Edson_, 378 MADAME ROLAND, _Ella Wheeler Wilcox_, 233 GENERAL SAN MARTIN, _Hezekiah Butterworth_, 281 HENRY M. STANLEY, _Noah Brooks_, 395 GEORGE STEPHENSON, _Professor C. M. Woodward_, 286 QUEEN VICTORIA, _Donald Macleod, D. D. _, 361 JAMES WATT, _John Timbs, F. S. A. _, 256 WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, 272

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

VOLUME VI. 

PHOTOGRAVURES

 ILLUSTRATION ARTIST TO FACE PAGE

 MME. ROLAND IN THE PRISON OF STE. PÉLAGIE, _Évariste Carpentier_ _Frontispiece_ THE ARCH OF STEEL, _Jean Paul Laurens_ 224 CHARLOTTE CORDAY AND MARAT, _Paul-Jacques-Aimé Baudry_ 230 MARIE ANTOINETTE, _Théophile Gide_ 244 QUEEN LOUISE VISITING THE POOR, _Hugo Händler_ 250 THE FIRST VACCINATION--DR. JENNER, _Georges-Gaston Mélingue_ 266 VICTORIA GREETED AS QUEEN, _H. T. Wells_ 362 PASTEUR IN HIS LABORATORY, _Albert Edelfelt_ 380

WOOD-ENGRAVINGS AND TYPOGRAVURES

 ANDREAS HOFER LED TO EXECUTION, _Franz Defregger_ 248 WATT DISCOVERING THE CONDENSATION OF STEAM, _Marcus Stone_ 256 SAMUEL F. B. MORSE, INVENTOR OF THE TELEGRAPH, _From a photograph_ 298 CUTTING THE CANAL AT PANAMA, _Melton Prior_ 338 WINDSOR CASTLE, _G. Montbard_ 364 GORDON ATTACKED BY EL MAHDI'S ARABS, _W. H. Overend_ 388 CUSTER'S LAST FIGHT, _A. R. Ward_ 394 STANLEY SHOOTING THE RAPIDS OF THE CONGO, _W. H. Overend_ 400 THOMAS A. EDISON--THE WIZARD OF MENLO PARK, 406

BENEDICT ARNOLD[1]

 [Footnote 1: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By EDGAR FAWCETT

(1741-1801)

[Illustration: Benedict Arnold. ]

Some of Arnold's biographers have declared that he was a veryvicious boy, and have chiefly illustrated this fact by painting himas a ruthless robber of birds'-nests. But a great many boys whobegan life by robbing birds'-nests have ended it much morecreditably. The astonishing and interesting element in BenedictArnold's career was what one might term the anomaly and incongruityof his treason. Born at Norwich, Conn. , in 1741, he was blessed fromhis earliest years by wholesome parental influences. The educationwhich he received was an excellent one, considering his colonialenvironment. Tales of his boyish pluck and hardihood cannot bedisputed, while others that record his youthful cruelty aredoubtless the coinings of slander. It is certain that in 1755, whenthe conflict known as "the old French war" first broke out, he gavemarked proof of patriotism, though as yet the merest lad. Later, atthe very beginning of the Revolution, he left his thriving businessas a West India merchant in New Haven and headed a company ofvolunteers. Before the end of 1775 he had been made a commissionedcolonel by the authorities of Massachusetts, and had marched througha sally-port, capturing the fortress of Ticonderoga, with tough oldEthan Allen at his side and 83 "Green Mountain Boys" behind him. Later, at the siege of Quebec, he behaved with splendid courage. Through great difficulties and hardships he dauntlessly led his bandto the high-perched and almost impregnable town. Pages might befilled in telling how toilsome was this campaign, now requiringcanoes and bateaux, now taxing the strength of its resolute littlehorde with rough rocks, delusive bogs and all those fiercestterrors of famine which lurk in a virgin wilderness. Bitter cold, unmerciful snow-falls, drift-clogged streams, pelting storms, wereconstant features of Arnold's intrepid march. When we realize thepurely unselfish and disinterested motive of this march, which hasjustly been compared to that of Xenophon with his 10, 000, and to theretreat of Napoleon from Moscow as well, we stand aghast at thepossibility of its having been planned and executed by one whoafterward became the basest of traitors. 

During the siege of Quebec Arnold was severely wounded, and yet heobstinately kept up the blockade even while he lay in the hospital, beset by obstacles, of which bodily pain was doubtless not theleast. The arrival of General Wooster from Montreal withreinforcements rid Arnold, however, of all responsibility. Soonafterward the scheme of capturing Quebec and inducing the Canadas tojoin the cause of the United Colonies, came to an abrupt end. But inhis desire to effect this purpose Arnold had identified himself withsuch lovers of their country as Washington, Schuyler, andMontgomery. And if the gallant Montgomery had then survived andArnold had been killed, history could not sufficiently haveeulogized him as a hero. Soon afterward he was promoted to the rankof brigadier-general, and on October 11, 1776, while commanding aflotilla of small vessels on Lake Champlain, he gained new celebrityfor courage. The enemy was greatly superior in number to Arnold'sforces. "They had, " says Bancroft, "more than twice his weight ofmetal and twice as many fighting vessels, and skilled seamen andofficers against landsmen. " Arnold was not victorious in this navalfray, but again we find him full of lion-like valor. He was in theCongress galley, and there with his own hands often aimed the cannonon its bloody decks against the swarming masses of British gunboats. Arnold's popularity was very much augmented by his fine exploits onLake Champlain. "With consummate address, " says Sparks, "hepenetrated the enemy's lines and brought off his whole fleet, shattered and disabled as it was, and succeeded in saving six of hisvessels, and, it might be added, most of his men. " Again, at thebattle of Danbury he tempted death countless times; and at Loudon'sFerry and Bemis's Heights his prowess and nerve were the perfectionof martial merit. It has been stated by one or two historians ofgood repute that Arnold was not present at all during the battle ofSaratoga; but the latest and most trustworthy researches on thispoint would seem to indicate that he commanded there with discretionand skill. He was now a major-general, but his irascible spirit hadpreviously been hurt by the tardiness with which this honor wasconferred upon him, five of his juniors having received it beforehimself. He strongly disliked General Gates, too, and quarrelledwith him because of what he held to be unfair behavior during theengagement at Bemis's Heights. At Stillwater, a month or so later inthe same year (1777), he issued orders without Gates's permission, and conducted himself on the field with a kind of mad frenzy, ridinghither and thither and seeking the most dangerous spots. All concurin stating, however, that his disregard of life was admirable, inspite of its foolish rashness. In this action he was also severelywounded. 

One year later he was appointed to the command of Philadelphia, andhere he married the daughter of a prominent citizen, Edward Shippen. This was his second marriage; he had been a widower for a number ofyears before its occurrence, and the father of three sons. Everychance was now afforded Arnold of wise and just rulership. In spiteof past disputes and adventures not wholly creditable, he stillpresented before the world a fairly clean record, and whatever minorblemishes may have spotted his good name, these were obscured by thealmost dazzling lustre of his soldierly career. But no sooner was heinstalled in his new position at Philadelphia than he began to show, with wilful perversity, those evil impulses which thus far hadremained relatively latent. Almost as soon as he entered the town hedisclosed to its citizens the most offensive traits of arrogance andtyranny. But this was not all. Not merely was he accused on everyside of such faults as the improper issuing of passes, the closingof Philadelphia shops on his arrival, the imposition of menialoffices upon the sons of freemen performing military duty, the useof wagons furnished by the State for transporting private property;but misdeeds of a far graver nature were traced to him, savoring ofthe criminality that prisons are built to punish. The scandalousgain with which he sought to fill a spendthrift purse caused wideand vehement rebuke. For a man of such high and peculiar place hiscommercial dabblings and speculative schemes argued most deplorablyagainst him. There seems to be no doubt that he made personal use ofthe public moneys with which he was intrusted; that he secured byunworthy and illegal means a naval State prize, brought into port bya Pennsylvanian ship; and that he meditated the fitting up of aprivateer, with intent to secure from the foe such loot on the highseas as piratical hazard would permit. His house in Philadelphia wasone of the finest that the town possessed; he drove about in acarriage and four; he entertained with excessive luxury and a largeretinue of servants; he revelled in all sorts of pompous parade. Such ostentation would have roused adverse comment amid the simplecolonial surroundings of a century ago, even if he had merely been acitizen of extraordinary wealth. But being an officer intrusted withthe most important dignities in a country both struggling for itsfreedom and impoverished as to funds, he now played a part ofexceptional shame and folly. 

Naturally his arraignment before the authorities of the State soonfollowed. The Council of Pennsylvania tried him, and though theirfinal verdict was an extremely gentle one, its very mildness ofcondemnation proved poison to his truculent pride. Washington, thecommander-in-chief, reprimanded him, but with language of exquisitelenity. Still, Arnold never forgave the stab that was then sodeservingly yet so pityingly dealt him. 

His colossal treason--one of the most monstrous in all the recordsof history, soon afterward began its wily work. Under the name of_Gustavus_ he opened a correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton, anEnglish officer in command at New York. Sir Henry at once scentedthe sort of villainy which would be of vast use to his cause, however he might loathe and contemn its designer. He instructed hisaide-de-camp, Major John André, to send cautious and pseudonymicreplies. In his letters Arnold showed the burning sense of wrongfrom which he believed himself (and with a certain amount ofjustice) to be suffering. He had, when all is told, received harshtreatment from his country, considering how well he had served it inthe past. Even Irving, that most dispassionate of historians, hascalled the action of the court-martial just mentioned an"extraordinary measure to prepossess the public mind against him. "Beyond doubt, too, he had been repeatedly assailed by slanders andmisstatements. The animosity of party feeling had more than oncewrongfully assailed him, and his second marriage to the daughter ofa man whose Tory sympathies were widely known had roused politicalhatreds, unsparing and headstrong. 

But these facts are merely touched upon to make more clear themotive of his infamous plot. Determined to give the enemy a greatvantage in return for the pecuniary indemnity that he required ofthem, this unhappy man stooped low enough to ask and obtain fromWashington, the command of West Point. André, who had for monthswritten him letters in a disguised hand under the name of JohnAnderson, finally met him, one night, at the foot of a mountainabout six miles below Stony Point, called the Long Clove. Arnold, with infinite cunning, had devised this meeting, and had tempted theadventurous spirit of André, who left a British man-of-war calledthe Vulture in order to hold converse with his fellow-conspirator. But before the unfortunate André could return to his ship (havingcompleted his midnight confab and received from Arnold the mostdamning documentary evidence of treachery) the Vulture was firedupon from Teller's Point by a party of Americans, who had secretlycarried cannon thither during the earlier night. André was thusdeserted by his own countrymen, for the Vulture moved away and lefthim with a man named Joshua Smith, a minion in Arnold's employ. Ofpoor André's efforts to reach New York, of his capture and finalpathetic execution, we need not speak. On his person, at the time ofhis arrest, was found a complete description of the West Point postand garrison--documentary evidence that scorched with indelibledisgrace the name of the man who had supplied it. 

On September 25, 1780, Arnold escaped to a British sloop-of-waranchored below West Point. He was made a colonel in the Englisharmy, and is said to have received the sum of £6, 315 as the price ofhis treachery. The command of a body of troops in Connecticut wasafterward given him, and he then showed a rapacity and intolerancethat well consorted with the new position he had so baselypurchased. The odium of his injured countrymen spoke loudlythroughout the land he had betrayed. He was burned in effigycountless times, and a growing generation was told with wrath andscorn the abhorrent tale of his turpitude. Meanwhile, as if bydefiant self-assurance to wipe away the perfidy of former acts, heissued a proclamation to "the inhabitants of America, " in which hestrove to cleanse himself from blame. This address, teeming withflimsy protestations of patriotism, reviling Congress, vituperatingFrance as a worthless and sordid ally of the Crown's rebellioussubjects, met on all sides the most contemptuous derision. Arnoldpassed nearly all the remainder of his life--eleven years orthereabouts--in England. He died in London, worn out with a nervousdisease, on June 14, 1801. It is a remarkable fact that his secondwife, who had till the last remained faithful to him, sufferedacutely at his death, and both spoke and wrote of him in accents ofstrongest bereavement. 

To the psychologic student of human character, Benedict Arnoldpresents a strangely fascinating picture. Elements of good wereunquestionably factors of his mental being. But pride, revenge, jealousy, and an almost superhuman egotism fatally swayed him. Hedesired to lead in all things, and he had far too much vanity, fartoo little self-government, and not half enough true morality tolead with success and permanence in any. The wrongs which beyonddoubt his country inflicted upon him he was incapable of bearinglike a stoic. Virile and patriotic from one point of view, he waschildish and weak-fibred from another. He has been likened toMarlborough, though by no means so great a soldier. Yet it is truethat John Churchill won his dukedom by deserting his formerbenefactor, James II, and joining the Whig cause of William ofOrange. If the Revolution had been crushed, we cannot blind our eyesto the fact that Arnold's treason would have received from historyfar milder dealing than is accorded it now. Even the radiant name ofWashington would very probably have shone to us dimmed and blurredthrough a mist of calamity. Posterity may respect the patriot whosestar sinks in unmerited failure, but it bows homage to him if hewages against despotism a victorious fight. Supposing that Arnold'ssurrender of West Point had extinguished that splendid spark ofliberty which glowed primarily at Lexington and Bunker Hill, thechances are that he might have received an English peerage and diedin all the odor of a distinction as brilliant as it would have beenundeserved. The triumph of the American rebellion so soon after hehad ignominiously washed his hands of it, sealed forever his ownsocial doom. That, it is certain, was most severe and drastic. Themoney paid him by the British Government was accursed as were thethirty silver pieces of Iscariot; for his passion to speculateruined him financially some time before the end of his life, and hebreathed his last amid comparative poverty and the dread of stilldarker reverses. 

Extreme sensitiveness is apt to accompany a spirit of just hishigh-strung, petulant, and spleenful sort. Beyond doubt he must havesuffered keen torments at the disdain with which he was everywheremet in English society, and chiefly among the military officers whomhis very conduct, renegade though it was, had in a measure forced torecognize him. When Lord Cornwallis gave his sword to Washington, its point pierced Arnold's breast with a wound rankling andincurable. He had played for high stakes with savage and devilishdesperation. Our national independence meant his future slavery; ourpriceless gain became his irretrievable loss. It is stated that asdeath approached him he grew excessively anxious about the risky andshattered state of his affairs. His mind wandered, as Mrs. Arnoldwrites, and he fancied himself once more fighting those battleswhich had brought him honor and fame. It was then that he would callfor his old insignia of an American soldier and would desire to beagain clothed in them. "Bring me, I beg of you, " he is reported tohave said, "the epaulettes and sword-knots which Washington gave me. Let me die in my old American uniform, the uniform in which I foughtmy battles!" And once, it is declared, he gave vent to these mostsignificant and terrible words: "God forgive me for ever putting onany other!" That country which he forswore in the hour of its direstneed can surely afford to forgive Benedict Arnold as well. Grown thegreatest republic of which history keeps any record, America neednot find it difficult both to forget the wretched frailties of this, her grossly misguided son, and at the same time to remember whatservices he performed for her while as yet his baleful qualities hadnot swept beyond all bounds of restraint. 

[Signature: Edgar Fawcett. ]

NATHAN HALE[2]

 [Footnote 2: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By Rev. EDWARD EVERETT HALE

(1755-1776)

[Illustration: Nathan Hale. ]

Nathan Hale, a martyr soldier of the American Revolution, was bornin Coventry, Conn. , on June 6, 1755. When but little more thantwenty-one years old he was hanged, by order of General WilliamHowe, as a spy, in the city of New York, on September 22, 1776. 

At the great centennial celebration of the Revolution, and the partwhich the State of Connecticut bore in it, an immense assembly ofthe people of Connecticut, on the heights of Groton, took measuresfor the erection of a statue in Hale's honor. Their wish has beencarried out by their agents in the government of the State. A bronzestatue of Hale is in the State Capitol. Another bronze statue of himhas been erected in the front of the Wadsworth Athenæum in Hartford. Another is in the city of New York. 

Nathan Hale's father was Richard Hale, who had emigrated toCoventry, from Newbury, Mass. , in 1746, and had married Elizabeth, the daughter of Joseph Strong. By her he had twelve children, ofwhom Nathan was the sixth. 

Richard Hale was a prosperous and successful farmer. He sent to YaleCollege at one time his two sons, Enoch and Nathan, who had beenborn within two years of each other. This college was then under thedirection of Dr. Daggett. Both the young men enjoyed study, andNathan Hale, at the exercises of Commencement Day took what iscalled a part, which shows that he was among the thirteen scholarsof highest rank in his class. 

From the record of the college society to which he belonged, itappears that he was interested in their theatrical performances. These were not discouraged by the college government, and made arecognized part of the amusements of the college and the town. Manyof the lighter plays brought forward on the English stage were thusproduced by the pupils of Yale College for the entertainment of thepeople of New Haven. 

When he graduated, at the age of eighteen, he probably intended atsome time to become a Christian minister, as his brother Enoch did. But, as was almost a custom of the time, he began his active life asa teacher in the public schools, and early in 1774 accepted anappointment as the teacher of the Union Grammar School, a schoolmaintained by the gentlemen of New London, Conn. , for the highereducation of their children. Of thirty-two pupils, he says, "ten areLatiners and all but one of the rest are writers. "

In his commencement address Hale had considered the question whetherthe higher education of women were not neglected. And, in thearrangement of the Union School at New London, it was determinedthat between the hours of five and seven in the morning, he shouldteach a class of "twenty young ladies" in the studies which occupiedtheir brothers at a later hour. 

He was thus engaged in the year 1774. The whole country was alivewith the movements and discussions which came to a crisis in thebattle of Lexington the next year. Hale, though not of age, wasenrolled in the militia and was active in the military organizationof the town. 

So soon as the news of Lexington and Concord reached New London, atown-meeting was called. At this meeting, this young man, not yet ofage, was one of the speakers. "Let us march immediately, " he said, "and never lay down our arms until we obtain our independence. " Heassembled his school as usual the next day, but only to take leaveof his scholars. "He gave them earnest counsel, prayed with them, shook each by the hand, " and bade them farewell. 

It is said that there is no other record so early as this in whichthe word "independence" was publicly spoken. It would seem as if theuncalculating courage of a boy of twenty were needed to break thespell which still gave dignity to colonial submission. 

He was commissioned as First Lieutenant in the Seventh Connecticutregiment, and resigned his place as teacher. The first duty assignedto the regiment was in the neighborhood of New London, where, probably, they were perfecting their discipline. On September 14, 1775, they were ordered by Washington to Cambridge. There they wereplaced on the left wing of his army, and made their camp at the footof Winter Hill. This was the post which commanded the passage fromCharlestown, one of the only two roads by which the English couldmarch out from Boston. Here they remained until the next spring. Hale himself gives the most interesting details of that greatvictory by which Washington and his officers changed that force ofminute-men, by which they had overawed Boston in 1775, into aregular army. Hale re-enlisted as many of the old men as possible, and then went back to Coventry to engage, from his old schoolcompanions, soldiers for the war. After a month of such effort athome, he came back with a body of recruits to Roxbury. 

On January 30th his regiment was removed to the right wing inRoxbury. Here they joined in the successful night enterprise ofMarch 4th and 5th, by which the English troops were driven fromBoston. 

So soon as the English army had left the country, Washington knewthat their next point of attack would be New York. Most of his armywas, therefore, sent there, and Webb's regiment among the rest. Theywere at first assigned to the Canada army, but because they had agood many seafaring men, were reserved for service near New York, where their "web-footed" character served them well more than oncethat summer. Hale marched with the regiment to New London, whencethey all went by water to New York. On that critical night, when thewhole army was moved across to New York after the defeat atBrooklyn, the regiment rendered effective service. 

It was at this period that Hale planned an attack, made by membersof his own company, to set fire to the frigate Phoenix. The frigatewas saved, but one of her tenders and four cannons and six swivelswere taken. The men received the thanks, praises, and rewards ofWashington, and the frigate, with her companions, not caring to risksuch attacks again, retired to the Narrows. Soon after this littlebrush with the enemy, Colonel Knowlton, of one of the Connecticutregiments, organized a special corps, which was known as Knowlton'sRangers. On the rolls of their own regiments the officers and menare spoken of as "detached on command. " They received their ordersdirect from Washington and Putnam, and were kept close in front ofthe enemy, watching his movements from the American line in Harlem. It was in this service, on September 15th, that Knowlton's Rangers, with three Virginia companies, drove the English troops from theirposition in an open fight. It was a spirited action, which was areal victory for the attacking force. Knowlton and Leitch, theleaders, were both killed. In his general orders Washington spoke ofKnowlton as a gallant and brave officer who would have been an honorto any country. 

But Hale, alas! was not fighting at Knowlton's side. He was indeed"detached for special service. " Washington had been driven up theisland of New York, and was holding his place with the utmostdifficulty. On September 6th he wrote, "We have not been able toobtain the least information as to the enemy's plans. " In sheerdespair at the need of better information than the Tories of NewYork City would give him, the great commander consulted his council, and at their direction summoned Knowlton to ask for some volunteerof intelligence, who would find his way into the English lines, andbring back some tidings that could be relied upon. Knowlton summoneda number of officers, and stated to them the wishes of their greatchief. The appeal was received with dead silence. It is said thatKnowlton personally addressed a non-commissioned officer, aFrenchman, who was an old soldier. He did so only to receive thenatural reply, "I am willing to be shot, but not to be hung. "Knowlton felt that he must report his failure to Washington. ButNathan Hale, his youngest captain, broke the silence. "I willundertake it, " he said. He had come late to the meeting. He was palefrom recent sickness. But he saw an opportunity to serve, and he didthe duty which came next his hand. 

William Hull, afterward the major-general who commanded at Detroit, had been Hale's college classmate. He remonstrated with his friendon the danger of the task, and the ignominy which would attend itsfailure. "He said to him that it was not in the line of his duty, and that he was of too frank and open a temper to act successfullythe part of a spy, or to face its dangers, which would probably leadto a disgraceful death. " Hale replied, "I wish to be useful, andevery kind of service necessary to the public good becomes honorableby being necessary. If the exigencies of my country demand apeculiar service, its claims to perform that service are imperious. "These are the last words of his which can be cited until those whichhe spoke at the moment of his death. He promised Hull to take hisarguments into consideration, but Hull never heard from him again. 

In the second week of September he left the camp for Stamford withStephen Hempstead, a sergeant in Webb's regiment, from whom we havethe last direct account of his journey. With Hempstead and AsherWright, who was his servant in camp, he left his uniform and someother articles of property. He crossed to Long Island in citizen'sdress, and, as Hempstead thought, took with him his college diploma, meaning to assume the aspect of a Connecticut schoolmaster visitingNew York in the hope to establish himself. He landed nearHuntington, or Oyster Bay, and directed the boatman to return at atime fixed by him, the 20th of September. He made his way into NewYork, and there, for a week or more apparently, prosecuted hisinquiries. He returned on the day fixed, and awaited his boat. Itappeared, as he thought; and he made a signal from the shore. Alas!he had mistaken the boat. She was from an English frigate, which layscreened by a point of woods, and had come in for water. Haleattempted to retrace his steps, but was too late. He was seized andexamined. Hidden in the soles of his shoes were his memoranda, inthe Latin language. They compromised him at once. He was carried onboard the frigate, and sent to New York the same day, well guarded. 

It was at an unfortunate moment, if anyone expected tenderness fromGeneral Howe. Hale landed while the city was in the tenor of thegreat conflagration of September 21st. In that fire nearly a quarterof the town was burned down. The English supposed, rightly or not, that the fire had been begun by the Americans. The bells had beentaken from the churches by order of the Provincial Congress. Thefire-engines were out of order, and for a time it seemed impossibleto check the flames. Two hundred persons were sent to jail upon thesupposition that they were incendiaries. It is in the midst of suchconfusion that Hale is taken to General Howe's head-quarters, andthere he meets his doom. 

No testimony could be stronger against him than the papers on hisperson. He was not there to prevaricate, and he told them his rankand name. There was no trial, and Howe at once ordered that heshould be hanged the next morning. Worse than this, had he known it, he was to be hanged by William Cunningham, the Provost-Major, a manwhose brutality, through the war disgraced the British army. It is asatisfaction to know that Cunningham was hanged for his deserts inEngland, not many years after. [3]

 [Footnote 3: Such is the current tradition and belief, that he was hanged at Newgate; but Mr. George Bancroft found no such name in the records of the prison. ]

Hale was confined for the night of September 21st in the greenhouseof the garden of Howe's head-quarters. This place was known as theBeckman Mansion, at Turtle Bay. This house was standing until withina few years. 

Early the next day he was led to his death. "On the morning of theexecution, " said Captain Montresor, an English officer, "my stationbeing near the fatal spot, I requested the Provost-Marshal to permitthe prisoner to sit in my marquee while he was making the necessarypreparations. Captain Hale entered. He asked for writing materials, which I furnished him. He wrote two letters; one to his mother andone to a brother officer. The Provost-Marshal destroyed the letters, and assigned as a reason that the rebels should not know that theyhad a man in their army who could die with so much firmness. "

Hale asked for a Bible, but his request was refused. He was marchedout by a guard and hanged upon an apple-tree in Rutgers's orchard. The place was near the present intersection of East Broadway andMarket Streets. Cunningham asked him to make his dying "speech andconfession. " "I only regret, " he said, "that I have but one life tolose for my country. "

[Signature: Edward E. Hale. ]

THADDEUS KOSCIUSKO

(1746-1817)

Among the remarkable men of modern times there is perhaps none whosefame is purer from reproach than that of Thaddeus Kosciusko. Hisname is enshrined in the ruins of his unhappy country, which, withheroic bravery and devotion, he sought to defend against foreignoppression and foreign domination. Kosciusko was born at Warsawabout the year 1746. He was educated at the School of Cadets, inthat city, where he distinguished himself so much in scientificstudies as well as in drawing, that he was selected as one of fourstudents of that institution who were sent to travel at theexpense of the state, with a view of perfecting their talents. Inthis capacity he visited France, where he remained for severalyears, devoting himself to studies of various kinds. On his returnto his own country he entered the army, and obtained the command ofa company. But he was soon obliged to expatriate himself again, inorder to fly from a violent but unrequited passion for the daughterof the Marshal of Lithuania, one of the first officers of state ofthe Polish court. 

[Illustration: Thaddeus Kosciusko. ]

He bent his steps to that part of North America which was thenwaging its war of independence against England. Here he entered thearmy, and served with distinction as one of the adjutants of GeneralWashington. While thus employed, he became acquainted withLafayette, Lameth, and other distinguished Frenchmen serving in thesame cause, and was honored by receiving the most flattering praisesfrom Franklin, as well as the public thanks of the Congress of theUnited Provinces. He was also decorated with the new American orderof Cincinnatus, being the only European, except Lafayette, to whomit was given. 

At the termination of the war he returned to his own country, wherehe lived in retirement till the year 1789, at which period he waspromoted by the Diet to the rank of major-general. That body was atthis time endeavoring to place its military force upon a respectablefooting, in the vain hope of restraining and diminishing thedomineering influence of foreign powers in what still remained ofPoland. It also occupied itself in changing the vicious constitutionof that unfortunate and ill-governed country--in rendering themonarchy hereditary, in declaring universal toleration, and inpreserving the privileges of the nobility, while at the same time itameliorated the condition of the lower orders. In all theseimprovements Stanislas Poniatowski, the reigning king, readilyconcurred; though the avowed intention of the Diet was to render thecrown hereditary in the Saxon family. The King of Prussia (FrederickWilliam II. ), who, from the time of the treaty of Cherson, in 1787, between Russia and Austria, had become hostile to the former power, also encouraged the Poles in their proceedings; and even gave themthe most positive assurances of assisting them, in case the changesthey were effecting occasioned any attacks from other sovereigns. 

Russia at length, having made peace with the Turks, prepared tothrow her sword into the scale. A formidable opposition to themeasures of the Diet had arisen, even among the Poles themselves, and occasioned what was called the confederation of Targowicz, towhich the Empress of Russia promised her assistance. The feebleStanislas, who had proclaimed the new constitution in 1791, boundhimself in 1792 to sanction the Diet of Grodno, which restored theancient constitution, with all its vices and all its abuses. In themeanwhile Frederick William, King of Prussia, who had so mainlycontributed to excite the Poles to their enterprises, baselydeserted them, and refused to give them any assistance. On thecontrary, he stood aloof from the contest, waiting for that share ofthe spoil which the haughty empress of the north might think properto allot to him, as a reward of his non-interference. 

But though thus betrayed on all sides, the Poles were not disposedto submit without a struggle. They flew to arms, and found in thenephew of their king, the Prince Joseph Poniatowski, a generalworthy to conduct so glorious a cause. Under his command Kosciuskofirst became known in European warfare. He distinguished himself inthe battle of Zielenec, and still more in that of Dubienska, whichtook place on June 18, 1792. Upon this latter occasion he defendedfor six hours, with only 4, 000 men, against 15, 000 Russians, a postwhich had been slightly fortified in twenty-four hours, and at lastretired with inconsiderable loss. 

But the contest was too unequal to last; the patriots wereoverwhelmed by enemies from without, and betrayed by traitorswithin, at the head of whom was their own sovereign. The Russianstook possession of the country, and proceeded to appropriate thoseportions of Lithuania and Volhynia which suited their convenience;while Prussia, the friendly Prussia, invaded another part of thekingdom. 

Under these circumstances the most distinguished officers in thePolish army retired from the service, and of this number wasKosciusko. Miserable at the fate of his unhappy country, and at thesame time an object of suspicion to the ruling powers, he left hisnative land and retired to Leipsic, where he received intelligenceof the honor which had been conferred upon him by the LegislativeAssembly of France, who had invested him with the quality of aFrench citizen. 

But his fellow-countrymen were still anxious to make anotherstruggle for independence, and they unanimously selected Kosciuskoas their chief and generalissimo. He obeyed the call, and found thepatriots eager to combat under his orders. Even the noble JosephPoniatowski, who had previously commanded in chief, returned fromFrance, whither he had retired, and received from the hands ofKosciusko the charge of a portion of his army. 

The patriots had risen in the north of Poland, to which partKosciusko first directed his steps. Anxious to begin his campaignwith an action of vigor, he marched rapidly toward Cracow, whichtown he entered triumphantly on March 24, 1794. He forthwithpublished a manifesto against the Russians; and then, at the head ofonly 5, 000 men, he marched to meet their army. He encountered, onApril 4th, 10, 000 Russians at a place called Wraclawic, and entirelydefeated them after a combat of four hours. He returned in triumphto Cracow, and shortly afterward marched along the left bank of theVistula to Polaniec, where he established his head-quarters. 

Meanwhile the inhabitants of Warsaw, animated by the recital of theheroic deeds of their countrymen, had also raised the standard ofindependence, and were successful in driving the Russians from thecity, after a murderous conflict of three days. In Lithuania andSamogitia an equally successful revolution was effected before theend of April, while the Polish troops stationed in Volhynia andPodolia marched to the reinforcement of Kosciusko. 

Thus far fortune seemed to smile upon the cause of Polishfreedom--the scene was, however, about to change. The undauntedKosciusko, having first organized a national council to conduct theaffairs of government, once more advanced against the Russians. Onhis march he met a new enemy in the person of the faithlessFrederick William, of Prussia, who, without having even gone throughthe preliminary of declaring war, had advanced into Poland at thehead of 40, 000 men. 

Kosciusko, with but 13, 000 men, attacked the Prussian army on June8th, at Szcekociny. The battle was long and bloody; at length, overwhelmed by numbers, he was obliged to retreat toward Warsaw. This he effected in so able a manner that his enemies did not dareto harass him in his march; and he effectually covered the capitaland maintained his position for two months against vigorous andcontinued attacks. Immediately after this reverse the Polishgeneral, Zaionczeck, lost the battle of Chelm, and the Governor ofCracow had the baseness to deliver the town to the Prussians withoutattempting a defence. 

These disasters occasioned disturbances among the disaffected atWarsaw, which, however, were put down by the vigor and firmness ofKosciusko. On July 13th the forces of the Prussians and Russians, amounting to 50, 000 men, assembled under the walls of Warsaw, andcommenced the siege of that city. After six weeks spent before theplace, and a succession of bloody conflicts, the confederates wereobliged to raise the siege; but this respite to the Poles was but ofshort duration. 

Their enemies increased fearfully in number, while their ownresources diminished. Austria now determined to assist in theannihilation of Poland, and caused a body of her troops to enterthat kingdom. Nearly at the same moment the Russians ravagedLithuania; and the two corps of the Russian army commanded bySuwarof and Fersen, effected their junction in spite of the battleof Krupezyce, which the Poles had ventured upon, with doubtfulissue, against the first of these commanders, on September 16th. 

Upon receiving intelligence of these events Kosciusko left Warsaw, and placed himself at the head of the Polish army. He was attackedby the very superior forces of the confederates on October 10, 1794, at a place called Macieiowice, and for many hours supported thecombat against overwhelming odds. At length he was severely wounded, and as he fell, he uttered the prophetic words "_Finis Poloniæ_. " Itis asserted that he had exacted from his followers an oath, not tosuffer him to fall alive into the hands of the Russians, and that inconsequence the Polish cavalry, being unable to carry him off, inflicted some severe sabre wounds on him and left him for dead onthe field; a savage fidelity, which we half admire even incondemning it. Be this as it may, he was recognized and deliveredfrom the plunderers by some Cossack chiefs; and thus was saved fromdeath to meet a scarcely less harsh fate--imprisonment in a Russiandungeon. 

Thomas Wawrzecki became the successor of Kosciusko in the command ofthe army; but with the loss of their heroic leader all hope haddeserted the breasts of the Poles. They still, however, fought withall the obstinacy of despair, and defended the suburb of Warsaw, called Praga, with great gallantry. At length this post was wrestedfrom them. Warsaw itself capitulated on November 9, 1794; and thiscalamity was followed by the entire dissolution of the Polish armyon the 18th of the same month. 

During this time, Kosciusko remained in prison at St. Petersburg;but, at the end of two years, the death of his persecutress, theEmpress Catharine, released him. One of the first acts of theEmperor Paul was to restore him to liberty, and to load him withvarious marks of his favor. Among other gifts of the autocrat was apension, by which, however, the high-spirited patriot would neverconsent to profit. No sooner was he beyond the reach of Russianinfluence than he returned to the donor the instrument by which thishumiliating favor was conferred. From this period the life ofKosciusko was passed in retirement. He went first to England, andthen to the United States of America. He returned to the Old Worldin 1798, and took up his abode in France, where he divided his timebetween Paris and a country-house he had bought near Fontainebleau. While here he received the appropriate present of the sword of JohnSobieski, which was sent to him by some of his countrymen serving inthe French armies in Italy, who had found it in the shrine atLoretto. 

Napoleon, when about to invade Poland in 1807, wished to use thename of Kosciusko in order to rally the people of the country roundhis standard. The patriot, aware that no real freedom was to behoped for under such auspices, at once refused to lend himself tohis wishes. Upon this the emperor forged Kosciusko's signature to anaddress to the Poles, which was distributed throughout the country. Nor would he permit the injured person to deny the authenticity ofthis act in any public manner. The real state of the case was, however, made known to many through the private representations ofKosciusko; but he was never able to publish a formal denial of thetransaction till after the fall of Napoleon. 

When the Russians, in 1814, had penetrated into Champagne, and wereadvancing toward Paris, they were astonished to hear that theirformer adversary was living in retirement in that part of thecountry. The circumstances of this discovery were striking. Thecommune in which Kosciusko lived was subjected to plunder, and amongthe troops thus engaged he observed a Polish regiment. Transportedwith anger, he rushed among them, and thus addressed the officers:"When I commanded brave soldiers they never pillaged; and I shouldhave punished severely subalterns who allowed of disorders such asthose which we see around. Still more severely should I havepunished older officers, who authorized such conduct by theirculpable neglect. " "And who are you, " was the general cry, "that youdare to speak with such boldness to us?" "I am Kosciusko. " Theeffect was electric: the soldiery cast down their arms, prostratedthemselves at his feet, and cast dust upon their heads according toa national usage, supplicating his forgiveness for the fault whichthey had committed. For twenty years the name of Kosciusko had notbeen heard in Poland save as that of an exile; yet it still retainedits ancient power over Polish hearts; a power never used but forsome good and generous end. 

The Emperor Alexander honored him with a long interview, and offeredhim an asylum in his own country. But nothing could induce Kosciuskoagain to see his unfortunate native land. In 1815 he retired toSoleure, in Switzerland; where he died, October 16, 1817, inconsequence of an injury received by a fall from his horse. Not longbefore he had abolished slavery upon his Polish estate, and declaredall his serfs entirely free, by a deed registered and executed withevery formality that could insure the full performance of hisintention. The mortal remains of Kosciusko were removed to Poland atthe expense of Alexander, and have found a fitting place of rest inthe cathedral of Cracow, between those of his companions in arms, Joseph Poniatowski, and the greatest of Polish warriors, JohnSobieski. 

MARQUIS DE LA FAYETTE[4]

 [Footnote 4: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By WILLIAM F. PECK

(1757-1834)

[Illustration: Marquis de la Fayette. ]

Marie Jean Paul Roch Yves Gilbert Motier, Marquis de la Fayette, [5]one of the most celebrated men that France ever produced, was bornat Chavaignac, in Auvergne, on September 6, 1757, of a noble family, with a long line of illustrious ancestors. Left an orphan at the ageof thirteen, he married, three years later, his cousin Anastasie, Countess de Noailles. Inspired from the earliest age with a love offreedom and aversion to constraint, the impulses of childhood becamethe daydreams of youth and the realities of maturer life. Filledwith enthusiastic sympathy for the struggling colonies of America intheir contest with Great Britain, he offered his services to theUnited States, and, though his enterprise was forbidden by theFrench Government, hired a vessel, sailed for this country, landedat Charleston in April, 1777, and proceeded to Philadelphia. Hisadvances having been treated by Congress with some coldness, byreason of the incessant application of other foreigners forcommissions, he offered to serve as a volunteer and at his ownexpense. Congress may be excused for having taken him at his word;on July 31st it appointed him major-general, without pay the titularhonor, which carried with it no command, being, perhaps, the highestever given in America to a young man of nineteen years. Havingaccepted the cordial invitation of General Washington, thecommander-in-chief, to live at his head-quarters and to serve on hisstaff, Lafayette was severely wounded in the leg at the battle ofthe Brandywine, on September 11th, and the intrepidity he displayedin that engagement was equalled by the fortitude that he evincedduring the following winter, in which he shared the privations ofthe American army in the wretched camp at Valley Forge. His fidelityto Washington at this time, when the latter was maligned by secretfoes and conspired against by Conway's cabal, cemented thefriendship between those great men. Lafayette was soon afterwarddetached to take command of an expedition that was to set out fromAlbany, cross Lake Champlain on the ice, and invade Canada; but, onarriving at the intended starting-point, and finding that noadequate preparations had been made, he refused to repeat theunfortunate experiment of Montgomery and Arnold of two years before, and waited for suitable supplies to be sent to him before settingout. These came not, the ice melted in March, and he returned toValley Forge, with the thanks of Congress for his forbearance inabstaining from risking the loss of an army in order to acquirepersonal glory. France having declared war against England, May 2, 1778, and at the same time effected an alliance with the colonies, Lafayette returned home in January, 1779; on his arrival at Paris hewas lionized and fêted, and during his stay there he received fromthe United States Congress a sword with massive gold handle andmounting, presented to him in appreciation of his services andparticularly of his gallantry at the battle of Monmouth, on June28th, in the preceding year. The high reputation that he hadacquired in America increased his influence at home to such a degreethat he was able to accomplish the object of his mission and procuremoney and troops from the ministry of war. These followed him tothis country in the following year, but little was accomplishedthereby, D'Estaing, the commander of the fleet, being blockaded inthe harbor of Newport, and Washington being unwilling to undertakethe contemplated attack on New York, even with the assistance of theFrench military force, without naval co-operation. In February, 1781, Lafayette was sent with a division into Virginia, where hesoon found himself arrayed against the British general, LordCornwallis. That distinguished officer, the best, perhaps, of all onthat side of the conflict, expected to make short work of hisyouthful antagonist, but Lafayette, who had learned from Washingtonthe art of skilful retreat combined with cautious advance, succeeded, after a long series of skirmishes, in shutting Cornwallisup in Yorktown. In September, the French fleet, under the Count deGrasse, appeared and landed a force of 3, 000 men under the Marquisde St. Simon. Lafayette was urged to make the assault at once andgain the glory of an important capture, but a feeling of honor, combined possibly with prudential considerations, impelled him towait for the arrival of the main allied army under Washington andRochambeau. They came a fortnight later, the investment wasregularly made, and on October 14th Lafayette successfully led theAmericans to the assault of one of the redoubts, while another wastaken by the French under the Baron de Viomesnil. The surrender ofCornwallis, with his army of 7, 000, took place on the 19th, whichended, practically, the American war of independence, though thefinal treaty of peace was not signed till January 20, 1783, thefirst knowledge of which came to Congress by a letter fromLafayette, who had returned to Europe in the meantime. Revisitingthe United States in 1784, he was treated with great considerationby his old comrades in arms, and the next year he travelled throughRussia, Austria, and Prussia, in the last of which he attended themilitary reviews of Frederick the Great in company with thatrenowned soldier. 

 [Footnote 5: The condensed form of the name, when used apart from the title, is preferable to the open, for, though he employed the conventional style, De La Fayette, up to the time of the French Revolution, he then abandoned it, and always afterward wrote it as one word, Lafayette, which is now the family name. ]

From this time Lafayette's history is bound up with that of hiscountry. Beginning by formulating plans for meliorating thecondition of the slaves on his plantation in French Guiana, hisphilanthropic thoughts soon turned homeward. He saw France groaningunder oppression and the people suffering from a thousand antiquatedabuses. Some of these he succeeded in mitigating, in his capacity ofmember of the Assembly of the Notables, in 1787, but, as nothing ofpermanent value was accomplished by that body, he urged theconvocation of the States General. In this assemblage, which met atVersailles, on May 4, 1789, he sat at first among the nobility, butwhen the deputies of the people declared themselves to be theNational Assembly--afterward called the Constituent Assembly--he wasone of the earliest of his order to join them and was elected one ofthe vice-presidents. On July 14th the Bastille was taken by the mob, and on the following day Lafayette was chosen commandant of theNational Guard of Paris; an irregular body, partly military, partlypolice, having no connection with the royal army and in fullsympathy with the people, from which its ranks were filled. On the17th King Louis XVI. Came into the city, where he was received bythe populace with the liveliest expressions of attachment andescorted to the Hôtel de Ville, where Lafayette and Mayor Baillyawaited him at the foot of the staircase, up which he passed underan arch of steel formed by the uplifted swords of the members of theMunicipal Council. Bailly offered to the king a tricolor cockade, which had been recently adopted as the national emblem, Lafayette, in devising it, having added white, the Bourbon color, to the redand blue that were the colors of Paris, to show the fidelity of thepeople to the institution of royalty. The king accepted the badge, pinned it to his breast, appeared with it on the balcony before thevast throng, and returned to Versailles with the feeling, on hispart and that of others, that the reconciliation between all partieswas complete and that the era of popular government had begun. Instead of that, the troubles continually increased, and Lafayettewas placed in a most trying position, equally opposed to theencroachments of the destructionists and to the intrigues of thecourt, and longing as eagerly for the retention of the monarchy asfor the establishment of the constitution. The brutal murder ofFoulon, the superintendent of the revenue, and of his son-in-lawBerthier, who were torn in pieces by the enraged populace on the22d, in spite of the commands, entreaties, and even tears ofLafayette, so disgusted him that he resigned his command, andresumed it only when the sixty districts of Paris agreed to supporthim in his efforts to maintain order. On October 5th a mob ofseveral thousand women set out from Paris to march to Versailles, with vague ideas of extorting from the National Assembly the passageof laws that should remove all distresses, of obtaining in some waya supply of food that should relieve the immediate needs of thecapital, and of bringing back with them the royal family. TheNational Guard were urgent to accompany the women, partly from adesire to protect them in case of a possible collision with theroyal troops, but still more to bring on a conflict with a regimentlately brought from the frontier, and to exterminate the body-guardof the king, the members of which had, at a supper given a fewnights before, been so indiscreet as to trample the tricolor undertheir feet and pin the white cockade to their lapels. Lafayette didall in his power to prevent the march of the National Guard, sittingon his horse for eight hours in their midst, and refusing all theirentreaties to give the word of command, till the Municipal Councilfinally issued the order and the troops set forth. Arrived atVersailles he posted one of his regiments in different parts of thepalace, to protect it in case it were really attacked by rioters, and then, in the early morning, repairing to his head-quarters in anadjoining street, he threw himself on a bed, for a short season ofnecessary repose. Monarchical writers generally have reproached himfor this act, calling it his "fatal sleep, " the source of unnumberedwoes, the beginning of the downfall; but it is difficult to seewherein he can justly be blamed for yielding, wearied out withfatigue, to the imperative demand of nature, after providing as faras possible for the preservation of order. Awakened in a few minutesby the report that the worst had happened, he hurried to the sceneand found that the mob, having broken down the iron railings of thecourtyard, had invaded the palace and massacred two of thebody-guard, and that the lives of the king and queen were in instantperil. With characteristic courage, activity, and address heprevented the further effusion of blood, and the entire royalfamily, together with the Assembly, migrated to Paris the same day, escorted by the citizen soldiers and a turbulent mob both male andfemale. July 14, 1790, was memorable for the Oath of Federation, taken in the Champ de Mars, with imposing ceremonies, upon aplatform of earth raised by the voluntary labors of all thecitizens. Lafayette, as representative of the nation, andparticularly of the militia, was the first to take the oath to befaithful to the law and the king and to support the constitutionthen under consideration by the Assembly. With a shout ofaffirmation from all of the National Guard, the taking of the entireoath by the president of the Assembly and the king, followed by aroar of assent from nearly half a million of spectators, and thejoyful spreading of the news throughout the country by prearrangedsignals, the dream of peace and harmony came back again, as brightand as fleeting as the year before. Three days later the NationalGuard of France, outside of the city, united in an address toLafayette, expressive of their confidence in his ability and hispatriotism, and regretting their inability to serve under him, for, by the terms of a law proposed by himself, the commander of themilitia of Paris was to have no authority over other troops. InSeptember the municipality made a strong appeal to him to revoke hisdeclaration that he would accept no pay or salary or indemnity ofany kind, but he refused fixedly, saying that his fortune wasconsiderable, that it had sufficed for two revolutions and that itwould be devoted to a third, if one should arise, for the benefit ofthe people. By the death of Mirabeau, April 2, 1791, the last chanceof a compromise between the court party and the radicals was takenaway. Two weeks later the royal family attempted to leave theTuileries for St. Cloud, in order to pass the Easter holidays thereand to hear mass in the royal chapel; but the populace blocked theway, and even a portion of the National Guard, in a state ofsemi-mutiny, threatened to interfere if the other battalions firedon the people. This, nevertheless, Lafayette offered to do, and toforce a passage at all hazards, but the king positively forbade theshedding of blood on his account, and resumed his virtualimprisonment in the palace. Lafayette was so chagrined by theseditious behavior of his troops that he again threw down hiscommission, whereupon an extraordinary revulsion of feeling tookplace; the municipality and the citizens were terror-stricken lestuniversal anarchy should ensue, and even the National Guard, repentant of their disgraceful conduct, cast themselves at the feetof their general, joining their voices to those of others inentreating him to resume his office, which, after three days, heconsented to do, upon promise of obedience in the future. 

[Illustration: The Arch of Steel. ]

This was the meridian of Lafayette's career, when his popularity andhis influence were at their height. Power we can hardly call it, forthat implies some voluntary deed of assumption, and he always actedin obedience to others, to some authority constituted at least underthe forms of law, or, in the absence of that, to the sovereignpeople. From this time difficulties thickened around him and he wasconstantly environed by suspicion and by intrigues of all kindsagainst his character and his life, but he never swerved from theline of his duty. Not one of the political parties gave him itsentire confidence, and each in turn conspired against him, only tobe baffled by the underlying conviction, on the part of the masses, of his supreme patriotism and integrity. After the flight of theking and his family, on June 20th, Lafayette was violently denouncedin the Jacobin club as a friend to royalty, and accused of havingassisted in the evasion; but the attempt to proscribe him in theAssembly failed utterly, and that body appointed six commissionersto protect him from the sudden fury of the people. The royalfugitives having been stopped at Varennes and brought back to theTuileries on the 25th, he saved them, by his personal efforts, frombeing torn in pieces by the mob, but was compelled to guard themmuch more strictly than before. On July 17th a disorderly assemblagegathered in the Champ de Mars to petition for the overthrow of themonarchy, and, in the tumult that ensued on the appearance of thetroops, Lafayette ordered a volley of musketry, whereby the rioterswere dispersed with a loss of several killed and wounded, butwhereby, also, while that act of firmness elicited commendation fromall lovers of order, occasion was given for further intrigues on thepart of his enemies and the shattering of his influence among thelower classes. A momentary gleam of sunshine broke forth inSeptember, when, the king having accepted the new constitution, Lafayette took advantage of the general state of good feelingthereby produced to propose a comprehensive act of amnesty for alloffences committed on either side during the revolution, which waspassed by the Constituent Assembly just before its final adjournmenton the 30th. On that day he resigned, permanently, the command ofthe National Guard, and retired to his estate at Chavaignac, beingfollowed by the most gratifying testimonials of public regard, amongthem a sword and a marble statue of Washington, presented by thecity of Paris, and a sword cast from one of the bolts of theBastille, given by his old soldiers. Contrary to his personalwishes, his friends and his patriotism persuaded him, in November, to stand as a candidate for the mayoralty of Paris, with the resultthat might have been foreseen, for Pétion, being supported both bythe Jacobins and by the court party, was elected by a largemajority. This defeat did not prevent Lafayette's appointment, amonth later, to the command of one of the three armies formed todefend the frontier against an expected invasion of the Austrians, the rank of lieutenant-general being given to him, with the exaltedhonor of marshal of France. War was declared against Austria, April20, 1792, and hostilities began, but even the active service inwhich he was engaged could not keep his thoughts from the politicalcondition of the country, and on June 16th he wrote to theLegislative Assembly, which had succeeded the Constituent in theprevious autumn, a letter in which he pointed out the dangers thatmenaced the nation and denounced the Jacobins as the faction whosegrowing power was full of peril to the state. Four days later themob invaded the Tuileries and passed riotously through all therooms, insulting in the grossest manner the royal family, who werecompelled to stand before them and undergo this humiliation forthree hours. On hearing of this event Lafayette hurried from hiscamp and appeared before the Assembly, entreating the punishment ofthe instigators of the outrage. His sublime audacity in thusopposing his own personality to the machinations of his enemies, andthat, too, before a body already irritated by his unasked advice, paralyzed the fury of his adversaries, while his eloquence charmedthe hearts of his hearers; but all was in vain, and the only resultof this heroic action was that a decree of accusation was brought inagainst him, which was rejected by a vote of 406 to 224. Upon themassacre of the Swiss Guards, on August 10th, followed by the actualdeposition and imprisonment of the king, Lafayette sounded his armyto ascertain if they would march to Paris in defence ofconstitutional government, but he found them vacillating anduntrustworthy. His own dismissal from command came soon after:orders were sent for his arrest, and nothing remained for him butflight. 

On August 19th he left the army and attempted to pass throughBelgium on his way to England, but he was captured by Austriansoldiers near the frontier. He protested that he no longer held rankas an officer in the army and should be considered as a privatecitizen; but his rights were not respected in either capacity, forhe was not treated as a prisoner of war neither was he arraigned asa criminal. On the contrary, without any charges being preferredagainst him, and without the formality of a trial of any kind, hewas immediately thrown into prison and was detained in variousBelgian, Prussian, and Austrian jails and fortresses for more thanfive years, the last three being passed in close confinement atOlmutz. An unsuccessful attempt at escape increased the severity ofhis detention, and he nearly lost his life through the hardships andprivations that he endured, till his wife and daughters came, in1795, and voluntarily shared his incarceration. The only reason forthe savage treatment that he received, unjustified by any forms ofinternational, of military, or of criminal law, seems to have lainin the fact that he had been a member of the National Assembly andprominent in the constitutional struggle for liberty. A feeling ofrevenge, as mean as it was groundless--for he had done everything inhis power to protect the dignity as well as the life of MarieAntoinette, the sister of the Austrian emperor--joined with a fearthat other peoples might follow the lead of the French and overthrowmonarchical institutions unless deterred by some world-shockingexample, formed the mainspring of this atrocious procedure. Effortswere made in this country and in England to procure the release ofthe prisoner, but no governmental action was taken in thatdirection, the United States Congress declining to pass a resolutionto that effect, so that President Washington was left alone in hisunceasing attempts, by instructions to our ministers abroad and by apersonal letter to the emperor, to repay some of the debt that heand the whole country owed to our adopted citizen. It was not tillthe successes of the French republican armies enabled GeneralBonaparte, at the instance of the Directory, to insist upon theliberation of Lafayette as one of the conditions of the treaty ofCampo Formio, that he was discharged on September 19, 1797, theAustrian Government pretending that this was done out of regard forthe United States of America. Passing into Denmark and Holland heresided in those countries for two years, when he returned to Franceonly to receive from Bonaparte a significant message recommending tohim a very quiet life, a piece of advice which, as it accorded withhis own desires, he followed, settling down at Lagrange, an estateinherited by his wife, as his own property had been confiscated bythe National Convention, which had succeeded the LegislativeAssembly. True to the principles that he had always entertained, hecast his vote, in 1802, with less than nine thousand others, and inopposition to the suffrages of more than three-and-a-half millions, against the decree to make Bonaparte consul for life, writing afterhis name on the polling register the statement that he could notvote for such a measure till public freedom was sufficientlyguaranteed. This insured the continued displeasure of the militarydespot, who revenged himself by refusing to Lafayette's only son, George Washington, the promotion that he had earned by his brilliantexploits in the army. President Jefferson's offer in 1803, of thegovernorship of the province of Louisiana, just after its purchasefrom France, was rejected by Lafayette, who continued in hisretirement through the time of the empire and after the firstrestoration of the Bourbons, till the return from Elba, in March, 1815, of Napoleon, who used every exertion to conciliate him and winhis support. All these overtures he declined, but, on the otherhand, accepted an election to the popular branch of the Legislature, of which he was chosen vice-president. After the battle of Waterloo, on June 18th, Napoleon returned to Paris and proposed to his councilthe dissolution of the Chamber of Deputies and the assumption ofabsolutely dictatorial power; a desperate project which wasfrustrated only by the alertness, vigor, and energy of Lafayette, whose eloquent appeals induced the Legislature to compel the finalabdication of the emperor, under the alternative threat offorfeiture and expulsion. Five commissioners, with Lafayette at thehead, appointed by the chambers, proceeded to the head-quarters ofthe allied sovereigns, at Haguenau, to treat for peace; but, whilenegotiations were pending, the foreign armies pushed on toward thecapital, and he returned on July 3d, to find that Paris hadcapitulated and was at the mercy of the conquerors, who dictatedtheir own terms, forcibly dissolved the Corps Législatif, andreplaced Louis XVIII. On the throne. Lafayette retired to Lagrange, but was again elected, in 1817, a deputy, in spite of the strenuousopposition of the Government, and exerted his influence in favor ofliberal measures, though with indifferent success. In 1824, on theinvitation of President Monroe, he revisited this country, travelledthrough every State, was received with the highest honors byCongress (which voted him $200, 000 and a township of land for hisservices), by legislatures, by colleges, by corporations of cities, by societies of all kinds by his surviving comrades of therevolution, and by the whole nation; took part in the laying of thecorner-stone of the Bunker Hill Monument June 17, 1825, and sailedfor home in September, on the United States frigate Brandywine, which had been put at his disposal by the Government. Soon after hisreturn to France he was re-elected to the Corps Législatif, andserved as a member for most of the remainder of his life. The stupidtyranny of King Charles X. Having caused an outbreak of theParisians in July, 1830, Lafayette unhesitatingly espoused thepopular cause, and, though nearly seventy-three years old, acceptedthe command of the National Guard; after a conflict of three daysthe royal troops gave way, the king abdicated, to be succeeded bythe Duke of Orleans as King Louis Philippe, and Lafayette had thesatisfaction of contributing largely to the establishment of what hehad advocated so strongly forty years before--a constitutionalmonarchy. He died at his home, in the country, on May 20, 1834, buthis remains were taken to Paris for interment, and as the funeraltrain passed through the streets the lamentations on every handattested the affection and the sorrow of the people. Few men havelived who present a figure so attractive to the eye of the student;fewer still, so prominent on the theatre of history, who will bear, with so little possibility of censure, the closest scrutiny, theseverest judgment. His actions were visible to all the world, hismotives were transparent, his sentiments were unconcealed, his lifewas blameless. To the physical endowments of dignity of person andresistless charm of manner he added all desirable qualities of headand heart, a dauntless courage, an enthusiasm beautiful and yetconsistent, a sublime patriotism, a disinterested generosity. If, with all these, he seems to have failed of achieving the highestsuccess, it was because not of what he lacked but of what hepossessed in the fullest degree, a lofty integrity that forbade himto pander to the passions of the mob, a supreme regard for therights of the community and of the individual. He might havesnatched the sovereign power, but in doing it he would have lost hisself-respect. In place, then, of glittering success, he obtained thequiet admiration of mankind and the loving gratitude of two nations. 

[Signature: William F. Peck. ]

CHARLOTTE CORDAY[6]

 [Footnote 6: Copyright. 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By OLIVER OPTIC

(1768-1793)

[Illustration: A guillotine. ]

The despotism of Louis XIV. And the exhaustion of the finances by hiswars and his reckless extravagance had reduced France to a veryunhappy condition. His son, the Grand-Dauphin, died four years beforehis father, and his grandson, the Duke of Burgundy, a year later. Louis the Great was therefore succeeded by his great-grandson, LouisXV. During this reign the nation continued on the decline. He wasfollowed by his grandson, Louis XVI. , a better man than his immediatepredecessor, but too weak to carry out the reforms necessary torestore the prosperity of the nation. Voltaire, Rousseau, Montesquieu, and many other writers, as well as the influence of the AmericanRevolution, had fostered democratic ideas among the people, for thegovernment was reeking with abuses. 

The parliament had not assembled for three-quarters of a century;but representatives of the people met in 1789, in spite of theopposition of the king. The extreme of license followed the extremeof absolutism. The king opposed the Constituent Assembly, for thisbody changed its name several times, till the political conflictended in the death by the guillotine of Louis XVI. , and later by theexecution of his queen, Marie Antoinette. For every two hundred andfifty of the gross population there was a member of the nobility whowas exempted from the payment of any land tax, though this kind ofproperty was almost exclusively in their possession, and from manyother taxes and burdens, which all the more heavily weighed downthe great body of the people. The latter had a long list of genuinegrievances which the king and his advisers refused to remedy. 

The revolution became an accomplished fact in the capture anddestruction of the Bastille, on July 14, 1789, which day is stillcelebrated as a national holiday in France. It had been for hundredsof years a prison for political offenders, and was regarded by thepeople as the principal emblem and instrument of tyranny. Thepopulation became as intemperate as their rulers had been, thousandsperished by the guillotine, and the reign of terror was established. The National Convention proclaimed a republic; but this body wasdivided by conflicting opinions, and had not the power to inauguratetheir ideal government. Blood flowed in rivers, and the reaction wasinfinitely more terrible than the tyranny which had produced it. 

The Convention was divided into at least four parties, though thelines which separated them were not very clearly defined. TheJacobins were the most prominent, and the most radical. It had itsorigin in the Jacobin Club, formed in Versailles, taking its namefrom a convent in which it met. This organization soon spreadthrough its branches all over France, and its party was the mostviolent and blood-thirsty in the convention. Danton, Robespierre, Marat, Desmoulins, and other desperate leaders were of this faction. 

The Girondists were next in numbers and influence. They were themoderate republicans of the time, though at first they were inclinedto accept the constitution, and favor a limited monarchy. Its namecame from the earliest leaders of the party who were representativesfrom the department of the Gironde. Its members labored to check theviolence and bloodshed of the times, and might be called therespectable party of the period. Unfortunately they were in theminority, and all the members of the party in the Convention who didnot escape, were arrested, convicted, and guillotined. 

The Montagnards (mountaineers) or Montagne (Mountain) was the termapplied to the Democrats holding the most extreme views, though itsmembers were also Jacobins and Cordeliers. Among them were the mostblood-thirsty, unreasonable, and intolerant men of the time, forDanton, Robespierre, Marat, St. Just, and others of that stamp, affiliated with them. They took their name from the fact that theywere grouped together in the uppermost seats of the chamber of theConvention. The Cordeliers was hardly more than another name for aclub of the same men, so called from the chapel of a Franciscanmonastery where they held their meetings. 

[Illustration: Charlotte Corday and Marat. ]

Jean Paul Marat was one of the most prominent personages of theRevolution, whose infamy will continue to be perpetuated down togenerations yet to come, with other of his red-handed associates. Hewas a Frenchman, though he spent considerable time in Holland andGreat Britain, where he practised medicine, having studied theprofession at Bordeaux. He made some reputation as a politicalwriter, and in Edinburgh obtained a degree. It is believed that hewas convicted for stealing, and sentenced to five years imprisonmentat Oxford under several _aliases_. Perhaps he was sincere in hisopinions, and he threw himself vigorously into the work of theRevolution in Paris, issuing inflammatory pamphlets, which he causedto be printed and circulated secretly. He established an infamousjournal, attacking the king and all his supporters, and especiallythe Girondists, whose moderation disgusted him. His virulence causedhim to be intensely hated, and twice he was compelled to flee toLondon, and once to hide in the sewers. In the latter he contracteda loathsome disease of the skin which soon began to eat away hislife; and his sufferings from it intensified his zeal and hishatred. 

Marat was elected to the Convention as a delegate from Paris. Perhaps he was to a greater degree responsible for the Septembermassacre than any other man. While he was dying of his malady he wasurging on his fanatical measures, and declared that most of themembers of the Convention, Mirabeau first, ought to be executed. Hismost virulent hatred was directed against the Girondists, whoseexecution he advocated with all the venom of his nature. Though hecould write only when seated in a bath, he continued to hurl hisinvectives against them, impatient for the guillotine to do its gorywork upon them. 

The avenger was at hand. Charlotte Corday d'Armont was thegranddaughter of Corneille, the great tragic poet of France. Thoughof noble descent, she was born in a cottage, for her father was acountry gentleman so poor that he could not support his family. Hisdaughters worked in the fields like the peasants, till he wascompelled to abandon them. Then they obtained admission to a conventin Caen, where they were received on account of their birth andtheir poverty. The library furnished Charlotte abundant readingmatter, and she read works on philosophy, though she also ratherinflated her imagination by the perusal of romances, which had someinfluence on her after life. 

When monasteries and convents were abolished, she was turned looseupon the world; but her aunt, as poor almost as her father, took theyoung woman, now nineteen years old, to her home in Caen. Charlottehad developed into a beautiful girl, rather tall, honest, andinnocent. She had imbibed republican sentiments from her father inspite of his nobility, and Caen was the head-quarters of theGirondists. She was familiar with the details of the strugglebetween the Jacobins and the Girondists, and they inspired her withan intense feeling against the persecutors of her people, as sheregarded the latter. The members of that party who had been drivenfrom Paris instructed her. She was a woman; but if she had been aqueen she had the nerve to rule a nation and fight its battles. 

A tremendous purpose took possession of her being. It was notprompted by the spirit of revenge. She was mistaken, but shebelieved that the removal of Marat was the remedy for the evils ofthe time; and this became the work of her life, upon which sheentered, fully conscious that her path ended at an ignominiousgrave. She had an admirer in a young man by the name of Franquelin, and though she favored him she sacrificed her attachment to what sheregarded as a lofty, even a sublime duty. She had the means toproceed to Paris and she went by the coach. She deceived her aunt, her father, and her sisters with the statement that she was going toEngland in search of remunerative employment. She went to a hotel inthe great city which had been recommended to her in Caen. 

A friend had given her a letter of recommendation to Duperret, aGirondist deputy, by the aid of which she hoped to get into thepresence of Marat. She had arranged a plan for the assassination ofthe brawling fanatic, and it was to take place at the celebration ofthe anniversary of the destruction of the Bastille, July 14th, onthe Champ de Mars. She desired to do the deed as publicly aspossible, not to make it sensational, but in order to produce thestronger impression upon the minds of the people. The postponementof the celebration, for the suppression of the rebellion among theVendeans, prevented the execution of her first plan, and she thendecided to strike down her victim in his seat at the "summit of themountain, " in the midst of the victim's accomplices. Then shelearned that Marat was confined to his lodgings by his malady. Shepromptly determined to confront him in his own home. 

She wrote a note to him, professing to be a sufferer at the hands ofthe Girondists, asking for an appointment at his house. He made it, but was unable to keep it. She wrote another note, and then went tothe house in the Rue de l'École de Médecine, now a part of theBoulevard St. Germain. The woman with whom Marat lived refused toadmit her, and she crowded up a short stairway. Her intended victimheard the altercation, and suspecting it was the person who had senthim two notes, he called out to Catherine Everard to admit her. Charlotte had visited the Palais Royal and purchased a knife, whichwas concealed in her bosom in readiness to do the deed. 

Marat, though at the height of his pernicious influence, lived inmean and squalid apartments, in a sort of pride of poverty as "thefriend of the people. " In spite of his disease, which compelled himto work in a bath, he was always busy. The room was littered withpapers and pamphlets. He was only five feet in height, with anaturally disagreeable face, increased by his malady. At the verytime his visitor entered his den, he was making out on a boardbefore him a list of Girondists to be executed. She would not lookat him, but she told him a story she had invented, and gave him thenames of Girondist refugees at Caen; to which he replied as he wrotethem down, that "they should have the guillotine before they were aweek older. "

At these words, as though they had steeled her arm, she drew theknife from her bosom, and with superhuman power, plunged it to thehilt and to the heart of Marat. He called for help and then expired. Assistance came, and the house was thronged with National Guards andpolicemen. They were necessary to save the murderess from the furyof those who forced their way into the house. She was arrested, andconveyed in the same carriage in which she had come to theConciergerie. All Paris groaned and howled. 

She had the form of a trial, and the guillotine quickly followed it. Her fortitude did not forsake her at any time, and she died asfirmly as any martyr ever went to the stake. Her beauty and herheroism excited the sympathy of the crowd, but they could not saveher. She was a mistaken heroine, but her courage and fortitude weresublime. 

[Signature: William S. Adams. ]

MADAME ROLAND[7]

 [Footnote 7: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX

(1754-1793)

[Illustration: Madame Roland. ]

France has produced many remarkable women; perhaps no other countrycan boast such an array of illustrious names; they shine from thepages of French history like fixed stars from the firmament. Amongthem, down the long vista of a hundred years, brilliant andbeautiful, shines the name of Madame Roland, the spirit of the greatFrench Revolution personified. 

Striking beauty, great genius, and wonderful courage in the hour ofmartyrdom, rendered this woman an unusual character in an unusualepoch. Surrounded by deceit, she was honest and fearless. In themidst of immorality and license, she was pure, and brave enough toresist temptation which came from without and from within, and shewent to the scaffold with an untarnished name and soul. 

Manon Philipon, as Madame Roland was known in her childhood, wasborn in Paris in the year 1754. Her father was a worker in enamel, who thrived well enough in his art when he was content to toil atit, but a restless spirit of speculation led him into ventures whichbrought him neither profit nor renown. 

Manon's beauty was a direct inheritance from both father and mother. Gratien Philipon was a handsome man, and vain and frivolous as hewas handsome; but his beautiful wife was serious-minded, and muchthe superior of her husband in intellect as well as morals. Of sevenchildren born to this couple, only one lived--Manon, the subject ofour sketch--who inherited the combined beauty of both parents, withthe rectitude and high ideals of the mother. But there lies noexplanation of inheritance from either father or mother to make usunderstand how the child of these common people became at nine yearsof age a student of Plutarch, Tasso, and Voltaire, and a philosopherat the age of eleven. It requires a deeper law than that of heredityto explain these things. 

At ten, Manon developed a strongly religious tendency, which wasfostered, no doubt, by daily studying the "Lives of the Saints. "While reading the accounts of martyrs who had died at the stakerather than resign their faith, the child often regretted that shehad not lived in those "good old days, " so happy a thing it seemedto her to die for one's principles. This privilege was granted herin after-years, strangely enough; and she proved as courageous inreality as she had in childhood imagined herself capable of beingunder similar circumstances. 

Manon's religious feelings were culminated by a request made to hermother, in a paroxysm of tears, that she might be placed in aconvent to prepare herself for her first communion; accordingly, shewas taken to the Convent of the "Sisters of the Congregation" inMay, 1765, when she was eleven years old. Side by side with thisnunnery, where the precocious child passed one of the happiestepochs of her life, stood the prison which was to immure her inlater years. Should such a circumstance and situation be unfolded inthe pages of fiction, we would call it strained and unnatural. 

During the year Manon passed in the convent, she made theacquaintance of two sisters, Henrietta and Sophie Cannet, who wereallied to the nobility; and she afterward attributed her facility inwriting to the correspondence with the younger of these sisters, which continued without interruption over more than a decade ofyears. In her memoirs, written under the shadow of the guillotine, she says, "In the gloom of a prison, in the midst of politicalstorms, how shall I recall to my mind, and how describe, therapture, the tranquillity I enjoyed at that period; but when Ireview the events of my life, I find it difficult to assign tocircumstances that variety and that plenitude of affection whichhave so strongly marked every point of its duration, and left me soclear a remembrance of every place at which I have been. "

After she left the convent, she found her passion for readingunabated, and as her father's library was limited, she was obligedto borrow and hire books; from these she made copious extracts andabstracts which formed her valuable habit of reflection upon whatshe had read. 

Her first feelings of contempt and bitterness toward the aristocratswere roused by the air of condescension which the Cannets exhibitedto her in her occasional visits to Sophie. They were stupid andarrogant people, but they made her realize that the daughter of anartisan was not on equal footing with people allied to the nobility, albeit she was a prodigy of beauty, learning, and talent, and theythe dullest of beings. 

"I endeavored, " she says, "to think with hope that everything wasright, but my pride told me things were ordered better in arepublic. " So, as early as at the age of fourteen, we find thisremarkable being philosophizing upon republics, and taking part inmind against the evils and injustice fostered by monarchies. 

Madame Roland wandered from prescribed creeds, and became a liberalin her religious ideas. She has been called an Atheist, but everyline she writes, and her life of self-sacrifice, disprove thisassertion. Her "one prayer, " to which she says she confined herself, is, to my mind, sublime with beautiful and practical religion. 

"O Thou who hast placed me on the earth, enable me to fulfil mydestination in the manner most conformable to the Divine will, andmost beneficial to my fellow-creatures. "

I can imagine no more perfect religious faith, no more completesubmission to, and acknowledgment of, a Supreme Power than thisprayer contains. It strikes me as far more devout and respectfulthan the prayers of many people who endeavor to dictate to God anddirect Him what to do and what not to do, what to bestow and what towithhold. 

She writes of her religious agitations with great reluctance toSophie Cannet, fearful of disturbing the serenity of her friend'sconvictions; but she continued to conform to her mother's religiousideas during that good woman's life, and even afterward she kept upthe forms of Catholicism for the sake of a valued family servant whowas devoted to her. 

This delicate consideration of the feelings of others has beenmistaken by some bigoted minds for deceit or vacillation on the partof Madame Roland; as if such a being were capable of either. 

We owe all our knowledge of her early private life to the voluminouscorrespondence between her and Sophie Cannet; to this friend shewrote those long, journal-like letters, in which one young girloften pours out the inmost secrets of her heart and soul to another;but, unlike the letters of the ordinary girl, Manon's containedcriticisms of the books she had read, and discussions ofphilosophical subjects, which bear evidence to her wonderfulprecocity of thought and feeling in her "teens. "

Originality, unselfishness, genius of the rarest order, are alldisplayed in these letters; already had her mind grasped some greattruths which it requires the average philosopher half a century todiscover, when at seventeen, she says, "Man is the epitome of theuniverse. The revolutions of the world without are an image of thosewhich take place in his own soul. "

Upon the news of the mortal illness of Louis XV. , she writes toSophie this strongly humanitarian passage: "Although the obscurityof my birth, name, and position seem to preclude me from taking anyinterest in the government, yet the common weal touches me in spiteof it. My country is something to me, and the love I bear it isunquestionable. How could it be otherwise when nothing in the worldis indifferent to me? A love of humanity unites me to everythingthat breathes. A Caribbean interests me; the fate of a Kaffir goesto my heart. Alexander wished for more worlds to conquer. I couldwish for more to love. "

In spite of her philosophy, her seriousness, and her learning, however, Manon Philipon was a girl, and a charming one; and we learnin her letters to Sophie how she was pestered with lovers of low andhigh degree, during her long maidenhood. I might better say withproposals for her hand, since, as we know, French custom does notpermit the "love-making" which American girls consider their naturalprerogative. 

Manon was so beautiful, brilliant, and magnetic, that when she wentout to promenade with her father, she was greeted with admiringglances and remarks; and from the fruit vender of whom she madeoccasional purchases, and the butcher who served the family withjoints, to dancing and drawing masters, up along the line tomerchants, professional, and literary men, she seemed to fascinateand attract with no effort on her own part. 

Each one in turn asked for her hand and was rejected; and a host ofothers followed, to meet a similar fate, until her father threatenedto marry her to the first stranger who crossed his portal, whethereither one wished it or no. She says in her memoirs, "Therespectable character of my mother, the appearance of some fortune, and my being an only child, made the project of matrimony a temptingone to a number of persons who were strangers to me. The greaterpart, finding it difficult to obtain an introduction, adopted theexpedient of writing to my father. These letters were always shownto me. I wrote the answers, which my father faithfully copied. I wasmuch amused at acting the part of my own father, and dismissed mysuitors with dignity, leaving no room for resentment or hope. Herebegan to break out those dissensions with my father which lastedever after. He loved and respected commerce, I despised it; and hewas much concerned at my rejection of suitors who possessed anyfortune. "

After the death of Madame Philipon, which occurred in her daughter'stwenty-first year, Manon's life at home became almost unbearable. Her extreme grief impaired her health, and anxiety and mortificationwere added by the excesses and frivolous extravagances into whichher father plunged. He formed associations with people of badcharacter, and took to gambling. Manon strove to make herself anagreeable companion, and to entertain him at home, but the attemptwas futile. She filled her lonely hours with study, and with writingletters to Sophie. One day a tall, thin gentleman, bald and yellow, past forty, and looking older, presented a letter of introductionfrom Miss Cannet. 

It was M. Roland, an austere philosopher, of an ancient family, towhom Sophie had often referred. Manon admired his intellect and hisrespectability; and when, after some two or three years, he made anoffer of marriage, she was ready to accept; but M. Philipon bluntlyand insolently refused his consent, through a strong personaldislike which he had conceived for the severe moralist andphilosopher. 

Manon could not marry against her father's wishes, but she couldleave the home now so distasteful to her. She had saved only a smallsum from her mother's fortune, amounting to about one hundreddollars per year. With this, she retired to the Convent of theCongregation, and shut herself up with her books, and received onlyher old friends. 

M. Roland, for whose sake she had taken so decisive a step, was farfrom an ardent lover in his conduct at this juncture. He wrote heraffectionately, but he made no reference to his proposal of marriageuntil six months had passed. Then he came to Paris, had an interviewthrough iron gratings, and expressed himself determined to make herhis wife. Since she had left her father's roof, she was at libertyto accept his somewhat tardy proposal, and she emerged from theconvent to become Madame Roland. 

We have seen that M. Roland was not an ardent lover, and it isreadily understood that this beautiful, intense girl, in the veryprime of young womanhood, was not in love with him. She felt onlyesteem for his virtues, and admiration for his intellect. But shewas twenty-five years old, and virtually homeless; of all the scoreof men who had sought her hand in marriage, no one had ever stirredher heart, and she married, believing, no doubt, that this coldregard and high admiration which the character of M. Rolandelicited, was all that she could feel for any man. 

It was not until the thunders of the Revolution shook the world, that her heart awoke to real passion; and even then, in a situationwhere hundreds of women who have professed greater religious fervor, have fallen, she conquered herself, and virtually died to protecther husband's life. 

During the first year of their marriage, the Rolands lived in Paris. Manon had imagined a happy association with her friends, theCannets; but her husband was morbidly jealous of these friends, andextracted a promise from her that she would see them as little aspossible. She became his amanuensis and secretary, and scarcely everleft his side. 

During the next ten years we find her passing the greater part ofher time in the Clos de la Platière, an ancient and humblecountry-seat belonging to the Roland family. Here, with her taxingdomestic duties, the exactions of her husband, the care of her childEudora, the tyrannies of her aged mother-in-law, this wonderfulwoman had little opportunity for the exercise of her talents. 

It seems strange to think of this beautiful martyr, whose name is asynonym for all that is grand and heroic, passing the best years ofher womanhood in preparing dishes for the appetite of a dyspeptichusband, in looking after house-linen, and arranging lessons for achild. Matilda Blind says "This affects one with something of theludicrous disproportion of making use of the fires of Etna to fryone's eggs by. "

Yet Madame Roland performed these and less agreeable duties ascheerfully and as perfectly as she had performed her chosen tasks inthe convent years before. Women doctors were not known in thosedays, but the genius of Madame Roland embraced a knowledge ofmedicine with other things; and she often went three leagues torelieve a sick peasant, and was ever ready to sacrifice herself forthe good of others. 

There was very little happiness for her in the companionship of herhusband. He was twenty-two years her senior, and possessed animperious temper and an exacting nature. But the most ardent wifecould not have better performed her duty to the most lovable ofhusbands. 

Naturally democratic in her feelings and sympathies, Madame Rolandtook the keenest interest in the progress of the Revolution; fromher quiet retreat she studied its leading members, and when, in1791, her husband was chosen deputy to the Constituent Assembly, sheaccompanied him to Paris, and their apartments became the rendezvousfor such men as Brissot, Buzot, Danton, Robespierre, Pétion, andmany more, who met to confer with one another and to exchange ideasand suggestions. Madame Roland sat apart with her embroidery andlistened. Of these meetings she speaks thus in her "Memoirs": "Goodideas were started and excellent principles maintained; but therewas no path marked out, no determinate point toward which eachperson should direct his views. Sometimes for very vexation, I couldhave boxed the ears of these philosophers. "

Had not her sex precluded this silent spirit of the Girondists fromtaking part in these counsels, if, instead of acting second handthrough her husband, she could have taken the lead, as her genius, perception, honesty, and courage entitled her to do, who knows thatshe might not have averted the disasters which befell the partythrough its dissensions. 

In March, 1792, Roland was elected minister of the interior; andMadame Roland presided over the establishment that had beensumptuously fitted up for Madame Necker. Roland became the idol ofthe patriotic party, and was enchanted with his excellent position. He urged upon King Louis XVI. , in whom he reposed great faith, thenecessity of a decree against the priesthood, and the establishmentof a camp in the suburbs of Paris. Louis demurred, Roland insistedin the famous letter written by his wife, and placed in the king'shands June 11th. This letter became immensely popular. The Assemblyordered it to be printed and copies sent to all departments, together with expressions of national regret at the discharge ofRoland and his friends, which the letter caused. But they wererecalled to office after the dreadful August 10th. 

Twice a week Madame Roland gave a dinner to fifteen of her husband'scolleagues, with whom he wished to converse. No other lady waspresent. The Girondists were at the apex of society, and MadameRoland was the life and impetus of the party. She endeavored toinfuse its members with her hatred of false pride and oldprejudices, and with her desire to establish a liberal democracy. Always enthusiastic, and vexed with the lack of unity and directpurpose in the Assembly, she was over-zealous in some of hersuggestions. 

Among the brilliant men whom she entertained at these dinners, wasone, young, handsome, elegant, and refined, whose many manlyqualities woke in her heart that long-delayed passion which a natureso ardent must sometime feel. This man was Buzot; and he was asirresistibly drawn to this beautiful, brilliant woman as the magnetto the steel. 

Madame Roland was at this time thirty-eight years old; her brilliantcolor and her open expression made her look much younger, and hertall, finely developed form, her splendid eyes and engaging smile, charmed and attracted all who came near her. But though domesticlife and morality were held at the lowest possible value in thosechaotic days, and each man made a law for himself, Madame Rolandnever wavered in her loyalty and devotion to the man whose name shebore. Only through her remarkable letters written to Buzot from herprison cell, and never made public till 1863, does the glory andintensity of her hopeless passion display itself. 

From the very first, Madame Roland had distrusted Danton. It was notlong before her intuitions proved correct, for Danton soon showedhis jealousy and dislike of the minister, whom he found too honestto tamper with. He feared, too, the penetration, frankness, andgenius of Roland's wife. Men who saw the insidious, selfishqualities of Danton, began to cultivate and conciliate him out offear of his enmity. 

Robespierre, whom Madame Roland had at first believed in as anhonest friend to liberty, became an ally of Danton and Marat, andRoland soon realized that it was not the monarchists he had tocontend against, but the new party headed by these dissentingGirondists, who were savage with a thirst for human blood. 

The Rolands were accused of trying to establish an aristocracy oftalent on the ruins of a monarchical aristocracy; their semi-weeklydinners were represented as sumptuous feasts where, like a newCirce, Madame Roland strove to corrupt the unfortunates who partookof her banquets. 

She was called before the Convention December 7th, to listen to thecharges against her; her eloquence won the admiration of even herenemies. But her safety was in danger, and she was obliged to sleepwith a pistol under her pillow for fear of the outrages ofdesperadoes who lurked about her house. 

The strife between the two parties grew more bitter, and thedownfall of Roland had been determined upon by his savage opponents, once his fawning friends and colleagues. An attempt was made toarrest Roland by six armed men, deputies of the Insurrectionists. Hereplied that he did not recognize their authority, and refused tofollow them. Madame Roland at once set off for the Tuileries, wherethe Insurrectionists, more cruel and blood-thirsty than the deposedMonarchists, were in session. At the door the sentinels forbade herto enter. Obliged to return home without having been enabled toaddress the Convention, as she hoped to do, she found that herhusband had taken refuge in the house of a friend. 

She sought him out, embraced him, and returned once more to theTuileries in another vain hope of arousing their former friends toresolute action. But she was obliged to return to her apartment inthe evening, without having accomplished anything. Late that nightshe was torn from her child and her home, and cast into the Prisonof the Abbaye, from which she was set at liberty a month later, andwild with happiness, allowed to reach her own door; but as sheattempted to enter she was again seized and conveyed to the Prisonof Sainte Pélagie. The respite had only been given in malice torender her second incarceration more bitter. 

Under the same roof were murderers and women of the town; and in themorning, when the cell-doors were opened, the scum of the earth, asone authority tells us, collected in the corridor. On each side ofthis corridor (the only place where the prisoners could takeexercise) were small cells, and one of these, separated only by thinwalls from the most depraved beings, whose vile language wasconstantly audible to her ears, this refined and elegant woman wasforced to occupy. She suffered acutely from this proximity todepravity and vulgarity at first; but ere long she transformed thevicinity in which her cell was situated "from an inferno to an oasisof peace. " When she walked in the corridor, where at first she waspointed at, abused and reviled, she was now surrounded by wretchedbeings who clung to her skirts and regarded her as a divinity. Hersweet voice soothed brawls, her words of courage inspired the mosthopeless. Everybody loved her, everybody desired her acquittal. 

Meantime she was writing her famous "Memoirs, " and the touchingletters to her husband, her child, and to Buzot. After animprisonment of more than six months, she was finally called beforethe judge and the prosecution, and accused of being the wife ofRoland, the conspirator, the friend of his accomplices. Twenty-oneGirondists had already been executed, and she could not hope toescape. She was condemned to death as guilty of traitorous relationswith conspirators. She heard the sentence proudly, and replied, "Youconsider me worthy to share the fate of the great men whom you haveassassinated. I shall try to carry to the scaffold the courage theyhave shown. "

Robespierre signed her death-warrant. He had been her friend, guest, and correspondent. She had helped him when he was unknown, defendedhim when he was in need of a defender. But he sent her to thescaffold; and on November 9, 1793, the tumbril came to convey her tothe guillotine. It had taken many others on that same day; and nowher only companion on that fatal ride was a trembling old man namedLa Marche. He wept bitterly, but Madame Roland cheered him withwords of courage and strength. 

When they arrived at the Place de la Concorde, she begged theexecutioner to permit the "etiquette of the scaffold" to be waived, and to allow La Marche to die first, that the sight of her deathmight not accentuate his fear and misery. So to the last moment ofher life she was true to her religion of thoughtfulness for others. 

Beautiful, self-possessed, and calm, she stood upon the scaffold inthe pride of her womanhood, and spoke those last immortal words asshe lifted her eyes to the statue of Liberty, "O Liberty, how manycrimes are committed in thy name. "

Then the axe fell, and the assassins of the Revolution had addedanother victim to their list. Seven days after this event, M. Rolandcommitted suicide by stabbing himself through the heart. 

[Signature: Ella Wheeler Wilcox. ]

MARIE ANTOINETTE

By Mrs. OCTAVIUS FREIRE OWEN

(1755-1793)

[Illustration: Marie Antoinette. ]

Maria Theresa, the Empress of Austria, was not highly educated; andshe was incapable of directing the studies of her children, althoughby precept and example she laid the foundation of characters, all ofwhich became more or less remarkable. Marie Antoinette, her youngestchild, was perhaps the most neglected. She once innocently causedthe dismissal of her governess, through a confession that all theletters and drawings shown to her mother, in proof of herimprovement, had been previously traced with a pencil. At fifteenher knowledge of Italian, studied under Metastasio, was the onlybranch of her education which had been fairly attended to, if weexcept considerable conversance with the "Lives of the Saints" andother legendary lore, the favorite fictions of monastic compilers. Nature had, nevertheless, done much for the young archduchess; shepossessed great facility for learning, and was not slow in takingadvantage of opportunities for improvement when they were afforded. In person she was most attractive. "Beaming with freshness, " saysMadame Campan, "she appeared to all eyes more than beautiful. Herwalk partook at once of the noble character of the princesses of herhouse and of the graces of the French; her eyes were mild, her smilelovely. It was impossible to refrain from admiring her aërialdeportment; her smile was sufficient to win the heart; and in thisenchanting being, in whom the splendor of French gayety shone forth, an indescribable but august serenity--perhaps, also, the somewhatproud position of her head and shoulders--betrayed the daughter ofthe Cæsars. " Such, according to her affectionate chronicler, appeared Marie Antoinette, when her nuptials were celebrated atVersailles with the Dauphin of France. 

Superstitious minds discovered fatal omens from the earliest yearsof the hapless dauphiness. She had begun ill by first drawing breathupon the very day of the earthquake of Lisbon; this made a greatimpression on the mother, and later upon the child also. Anotherincident was not less discouraging: the empress had "protected aperson named Gassner, " who fancied himself inspired, and affected topredict events. "Tell me, " she said to him one day, "whether myAntoinette will be happy?" At first Gassner turned pale and remainedsilent, but, urged by the empress, and dreading to distress her byhis own fancies, he said, equivocally, "Madame, there are crossesfor all shoulders. " Goethe notices that a pavilion erected toreceive Marie Antoinette and her suite in the neighborhood ofStrasburg was lined with tapestry depicting the story of Jason, "themost fatal union" on record; and a few days later, when the youngqueen arrived from Versailles to witness the rejoicings of thepeople upon her marriage, she was compelled to fly, terrified, froma scene remarkable not for festivity and happiness, but for thevariety and horror of its accidents. These circumstances threw agloom over the prospective triumphs of the impressionable bride; buther nature and age were alike favorable to vivacity, and she shookoff the morbid influence. 

Something of her mother's wise advice to her as to the course sheshould follow in her new position has been preserved in thefollowing letter:

"MY DEAR DAUGHTER:

". . . Do not take any recommendations; listen to no one, if you wouldbe at peace. Have no curiosity, --this is a fault which I feargreatly for you; avoid all familiarity with your inferiors. Ask ofMonsieur and Madame de Noailles, and even exact of them, under allcircumstances, advice as to what, as a foreigner and being desirousof pleasing the nation, you should do, and that they should tell youfrankly if there be anything in your bearing, discourse, or anypoint which you should correct. Reply amiably to every one, and withgrace and dignity; you can if you will. You must learn to refuse. . . . After Strasburg you must accept nothing without taking counsel ofMonsieur and Madame de Noailles; and you should refer to them everyone who would speak to you of his personal affairs, saying franklythat being a stranger yourself, you cannot undertake to recommendany one to the king. If you wish you may add, in order to make yourreply more emphatic, 'The empress, my mother, has expresslyforbidden me to undertake any recommendations. ' Do not be ashamed toask advice of any one, and do nothing on your own responsibility. . . . In the king you will find a tender father who will also be yourfriend if you deserve it. Put entire confidence in him; you will runno risk. Love him, obey him, seek to divine his thoughts; you cannotdo enough on this moment when I am losing you. . . . Concerning thedauphin I shall say nothing; you know my delicacy on this point. Awife should be submissive in everything to her husband, and shouldhave no thought but to please him and do his will. . . . The only truehappiness in this world lies in a happy marriage; I know whereof Ispeak. Everything depends on the wife if she be yielding, sweet, andamusing. . . . I counsel you, my dear daughter, to reread this letteron the twenty-first of every month. I beg you to be true to me onthis point. My only fear for you is negligence in your prayers andstudies; and lukewarmness succeeds negligence. Fight against it, forit is more dangerous than a more reprehensible, even wicked state;one can conquer that more easily. Love your family; be affectionateto them--to your aunts as well as to your brothers-in-law andsisters-in-law. Suffer no evil-speaking; you must either silence thepersons, or escape it by withdrawing from them. If you value yourpeace of mind, you must from the start avoid this pitfall, which Igreatly fear for you knowing your curiosity. . . . 

 "Your mother, "MARIA-THERESA. "

The grand annoyance Marie Antoinette experienced upon her entranceinto the French Court, was the necessity of observing a system ofetiquette to which she had been unaccustomed, and soon pronounced, with girlish vehemence, insupportable. Barrière copies a ridiculousanecdote in illustration of this from the manuscript fragments ofMadame Campan: "Madame de Noailles" (this was the first lady ofhonor to the dauphiness) "abounded in virtues; I cannot pretend todeny it. Her piety, charity, and irreproachable morals rendered herworthy of praise, but etiquette was to her a sort of atmosphere; atthe slightest derangement of the consecrated order, one would havethought she would have been stifled, and that life would forsake herframe. One day I unintentionally threw this poor lady into aterrible agony. The queen was receiving I know not whom--somepersons just presented, I believe; the lady of honor, the queen'stire-woman, and the ladies of the bed-chamber were behind the queen. I was near the throne with the two women on duty. All was right; atleast, I thought so. Suddenly I perceived the eyes of Madame deNoailles fixed on mine. She made a sign with her head, and thenraised her eyebrows to the top of her forehead, lowered them, raisedthem again, then began to make little signs with her hand. From allthis pantomime, I could easily perceive that something was not as itshould be; as I looked about on all sides to find out what it was, the agitation of the countess kept increasing. The queen, whoperceived all this, looked at me with a smile. I found means toapproach her Majesty, who said to me in a whisper: '_Let down yourlappets, or the countess will expire. _' All this bustle arose fromtwo unlucky pins, which fastened up my lappets, while the etiquetteof costume said '_Lappets hanging down_. '"

To the Countess de Noailles Marie Antoinette speedily gave the nameof Madame l'Étiquette; this pleasantry the object of it couldpardon, not so the French nation. The avowed dislike to ceremonymanifested by the lively little dauphiness, her desire to substitutethe simple manners of her native Vienna for the stately formality ofVersailles, displeased more than her genuine condescension andaffability attracted. Early also in her married life, to beguile theheavy tedium of their evenings, she instituted a variety of childishgames which became talked of and condemned; she liked theatricalrepresentations, and persuaded her two young brothers-in-law, withthe princesses, to join her in performing plays, and though theywere kept secret for a time, she suffered for her innocentcontrivances in public opinion. It must be remembered that MarieAntoinette had no sincere friends upon her arrival in France, exceptthe Duc de Choiseul and his party, and his disgrace prevented herderiving much benefit from the man who had first negotiated hermarriage. The house of Austria was looked upon with dislike anddoubt; nor were these, even in the case of the young dauphin's aunt, Madame Adelaide, made a matter of concealment. Thus, at her entranceupon public life, Antoinette was met with cynicism and prejudice, and unfortunately her own conduct rather increased than quieted theinsidious voice--the "_bruit sourd_"--of both. 

Louis XV. Had manifested from the first great pleasure in thesociety of his grandson's bride. After dining in his apartment atthe Tuileries, upon her arrival at Paris, she was obliged toacknowledge the shouts of the multitude, which filled the gardenbelow, by presenting herself on the balcony. The Governor of Parishad told her politely at the time, that "these were so many lovers. "Little did she think that at the very moment a strong party aroundher was planning her divorce, under the supposition that thedauphin's coldness to his bride proceeded from dislike. Louis was atimid, though rough, youth at the time, and for a considerableperiod treated the attractions which the courtiers so highlyextolled, with churlish indifference. The French king, indeed, didhis best to promote a better understanding, and when the reserve ofthe dauphin once thawed, the latter became tenderly attached to her, and greatly improved by her influence and society. 

An interesting trait of this youthful pair is told, as occurring atthe moment when they might have been excused for entertaining otherand more selfish thoughts. They were expecting the intelligence ofthe death of Louis XV. It had been agreed, as the disorder was onefrightfully contagious, that the court should depart immediatelyupon learning it could be of no further assistance, and that alighted taper, placed in the window of the dying monarch's chamber, should form a signal for the cavalcade to prepare for the journey. The taper was extinguished; a tumult of voices and advancing feetwere heard in the outer apartment. "It was the crowd of courtiersdeserting the dead sovereign's ante-chamber, to come and bow to thenew power of Louis XVI. " With a spontaneous impulse the dauphin andhis bride threw themselves upon their knees, and shedding a torrentof tears, exclaimed, "O God! guide us, protect us; we are too youngto govern. " Thus the Countess de Noailles found them as she entered, the first to salute Marie Antoinette as Queen of France. 

[Illustration: Marie Antoinette. ]

For some time the young queen's liking for children was ungratified bythe possession of any of her own, and this gave rise to an amusingattempt to adopt one belonging to others. One day, when she wasdriving near Luciennes, a little peasant boy fell under the horses'feet, and might have been killed. The queen took him to Versailles, appointed him a nurse, and installed him in the royal apartments, constantly seating him in her lap at breakfast and dinner. This childafterward grew up a most sanguinary revolutionist! It was nine yearsbefore Marie Antoinette had the blessing of any offspring; fourchildren were after that interval, born to her, two of whom died intheir infancy, and two survived to share their parent's subsequentimprisonment. The sad history of her son's fate, a promising andattractive boy, is well known. 

We have seen the Austrian princess was no favorite with herhusband's nation. After a time accusations as unjust as seriousassailed her, and in the horrors of the succeeding revolution thepopular feeling evinced itself in a hundred frightful ways. LouisXVI. , a mild prince, averse to violence or bloodshed, was unfit tostem the tide of opposition; had he possessed the energy of hisqueen, the Reign of Terror had perhaps never existed. Throughout hermisfortunes, in every scene of flight, of opprobrium, anddesolation, her magnanimity and courage won, even from the ruffiansaround, occasional expressions of sympathy. A harrowing andmelancholy history is hers, and one which has been often vividlynarrated; its details, also, are sufficiently recent to be stillfresh within the recollection of many. For these reasons, andfurther because it seems to us a repellent, if not a mischievous, act to amplify such records before advancing age shall have investedthem to the mind with deeper significance, we gladly pass over thepicture suggested by this dark historical page, and, resuming thenarrative where Madame de Campan drops it, content ourselves with adescription of the last scene in the terrible drama. 

When this devoted woman left her royal mistress in the miserablecell at the Convent of the Feuillans, she never again saw her. Imprisonment, and the intense grief she experienced, more for othersthan for herself, completely transformed the once beautiful queen;her hair was prematurely silvered, like that of Mary Stuart, herfigure bowed, her voice low and tremulous. Then came the separationfrom the king. Once more only did her eyes again behold him, andafter the parting between the dethroned monarch and his adoringfamily, he might indeed have been able to say, "The bitterness ofdeath was passed. " However weak at intervals, the unhappy Louis methis death heroically. The sufferings of his wife at the time whenthe guns boomed out the fearful catastrophe, may be supposed to havebeen as great as the human frame has power to endure. Shortly after, she was separated from her children and conveyed to the prison ofthe Conciergerie, a damp and loathsome place, whence she wassummoned one morning in October to receive a sentence for which itis probable she ardently longed. Let us look at her through the barsof her prison upon her return thither after it was pronounced. 

It is four o'clock in the morning. The widowed Queen of Francestands calm and resigned in her cell, listening with a melancholysmile to the tumult of the mob outside. A faint illuminationannounces the approach of day; it is the last she has to live!Seating herself at a table she writes, with hurried hand, a lastletter of ardent tenderness to the sister of her husband, the piousMadame Elizabeth, and to her children; and now she passionatelypresses the insensible paper to her lips, as the sole remaining linkbetween those dear ones and herself. She stops, sighs, and throwsherself upon her miserable pallet. What! in such an hour as this canthe queen sleep? Even so!

And now look up, daughter of the Cæsars! Thou art waked from dreamsof hope and light, from the imaged embrace of thy beloved Louis, thytender infants, by a kind voice, choked by tears. Arise! emancipatedone, thy prison doors are open. Freedom, freedom is at hand!

Immediately in front of the palace of the Tuileries--scene of theshort months of her wedded happiness--there rises a dark, ominousmass. Around is a sea of human faces; above, the cold frown of awinter's sky. With a firm step the victim ascends the stairs of thescaffold, her white garments wave in the chill breeze, a black ribbonby which her cap is confined beats to and fro against her pale cheeks. You may see that she is unmindful of her executioners--she glances, nay, almost smiles, at the sharp edge of the guillotine, and thenturning her eyes toward the Temple, utters, in a few agitated words, her last earthly farewell to Louis and her children. There is ahush--a stillness of the grave--for the very headsman trembles as thehorrible blade falls--anon, a moment's delay. And now, look! No, rather veil your eyes from the dreadful sight; close your ears to thatfiendish shout--_Vive la République!_ It is over! the sacrifice isaccomplished! the weary spirit is at rest!

Let us dwell upon this last mournful pageant only sufficiently faras to imitate the virtues, and emulate the firmness and resignationwith which she met her doom. Nothing is permitted without a meaning, all is for either warning or example; and while breathing a prayerthat Heaven may avert a recurrence of such outrages, let us rememberthat moral indecision, the undue love of pleasure, and an aimless, profitless mode of life, as surely, and not less fatally, may raisethe surging tide of events no human skill can quell, as the mostselfish abandonment to uncontrolled desires. 

ANDREAS HOFER

(1767-1810)

Andreas Hofer, a native of the village of St. Leonard, in the valleyof Passeyr, was born on November 22, 1767. During the greater partof his life he resided peaceably in his own neighborhood, where hekept an inn, and increased his profits by dealing in wine, corn, andcattle. About his neck he wore at all times a small crucifix and amedal of St. George. He never held any rank in the Austrian army;but he had formed a secret connection with the Archduke John, whenthat prince had passed a few weeks in the Tyrol making scientificresearches. In November, 1805, Hofer was appointed deputy from hisnative valley at the conference of Brunnecken, and again at a secondconference, held at Vienna, in January, 1809. 

[Illustration: Andreas Hofer. ]

The Tyrol had for many years been an appendage of the Austrianstates, and the inhabitants had become devoted to that government;so that when, by the treaty of Presburg, the province wastransferred to the rule of the King of Bavaria, then the ally ofNapoleon I. , the peasants were greatly irritated, and theirdiscontent was further provoked by the large and frequent exactionswhich the continual wars obliged the new government to levy on theTyrolese. The consequence was, that when their own neighborhoodbecame the theatre of military operations between Austria andFrance, in the spring of 1809, a general insurrection broke out inthe Tyrol. His resolution of character, natural eloquence, andprivate influence as a wealthy citizen, joined to a figure of greatstature and strength, pointed out Andreas Hofer to his countrymen asthe leader of this revolt; and with him were united Spechbacher, Joseph Haspinger, and Martin Teimer, whose names have all becomehistorical. A perfect understanding was maintained between theinsurgents and their late masters, and the signal of theinsurrection was given by the Archduke John in a proclamation fromhis head-quarters at Klagenfurth. An Austrian army of 10, 000 men, commanded by the Marquis Castellar, was directed to enter the Tyroland support the insurrection, which broke out in every quarter onthe night of April 8, 1809. The Austrian general himself crossed thefrontier at daybreak on the 9th. On their side the Bavarians marchedan army of 25, 000 men into the province to quell the revolt. Hoferand his band of armed peasantry fell upon the Bavarians whileentangled in the narrow glens, and on April 10th defeated Besson andLemoine at the Sterzinger Moos. The next day a troop of peasantsunder Teimer took possession of Innsbrück. On the 12th Bessonsurrendered with his division of 3, 000 men. In a single week all thefortresses were recovered, nearly 10, 000 troops of the enemy weredestroyed, and the whole province was redeemed. 

Incensed by this interruption of his plans, Napoleon despatchedthree armies almost simultaneously to assail the province at threedifferent points. One of these forces was under the command ofMarshal Lefebvre, who, on May 12th, defeated the united army of theAustrian soldiers, under Castellar, and the Tyrolese peasantry, under Haspinger and Spechbacher, at Feuer Singer. The troops made abad use of their victory, slaughtering the inhabitants of thevillages on their route, without distinction of age or sex. TheBavarian and French officers encouraged and took part in theexcesses of the soldiers; while the insurgents, far fromretaliating, refrained from every species of license, and nursedtheir wounded prisoners with the same care as their own friends. Hofer himself was not always present in action, his talentconsisting rather in stimulating his countrymen than in actualfighting; but at the battle of Innsbrück (May 28, 1809), he led theTyrolese, exhibited both skill and daring, and defeated theBavarians with a loss of 4, 000 men. The whole of the Tyrol wasdelivered a second time. But after the battle of Wagram (July 6th), and the armistice of Znaim which immediately followed, the Austrianarmy was obliged to evacuate the Tyrol, leaving the helplessinsurgents to the mercy of an exasperated enemy. Marshal Lefebvrenow invaded the province a second time, and entered it by the roadfrom Salzburg, with an army of 21, 000 troops, while Beaumont, havingcrossed the ridge of Schnartz with a force 10, 000 strong, threatenedInnsbrück from the north. On July 30th Innsbrück submitted. A seriesof desperate contests followed along the line of the Brenner, mostlywith doubtful success, but in one the marshal was defeated, whentwenty-five pieces of artillery and a quantity of ammunition fellinto the hands of the Tyrolese. Again, on August 12th, MarshalLefebvre, with an army of 25, 000 Bavarian and French soldiers, 2, 000of whom were cavalry, was totally beaten by the Tyrolese army, consisting of 18, 000 armed peasants. The battle, which was foughtnear Innsbrück, is said to have lasted from six in the morning untilmidnight. For a third time the Tyrol was free. 

After this victory, entirely achieved by the peasantry themselves, Hofer became the absolute ruler of the country; coins were struckwith his effigy, and proclamations issued in his name. His power, however, scarcely lasted two months, and became the cause of hisruin ultimately. Three veteran armies, comprising a force of nearly50, 000 French and Bavarian troops, were despatched in October tosubdue the exhausted province; and, unable to make head againstthem, Hofer was obliged to take refuge in the mountains. Soon after, a price having been set on his head, a pretended friend (a priestnamed Donay) was induced to betray him, January 20, 1810. After hisarrest he was conveyed to Mantua, and the intelligence having beencommunicated by telegraph to the French emperor, an order wasinstantly returned that he must be tried. This order was a sentence;and after a court-martial, at which, however, the majority wereaverse to a sentence of death, Hofer was condemned to be shot. Hisexecution took place on February 20, 1810, his whole military careerhaving occupied less than forty weeks. The Emperor Francis conferreda handsome pension upon the widow and family of Hofer, and createdHofer's son a noble. The Austrian government also raised a marblestatue of heroic size in the cathedral of Innsbrück, where the bodyof the patriot was interred; while his own countrymen havecommemorated his efforts by raising a small pyramid to mark the spotwhere he was taken. 

[Illustration: Andreas Hofer led to Execution. ]

QUEEN LOUISE OF PRUSSIA

By Mrs. FRANCIS G. FAITHFULL

(1776-1810)

[Illustration: Queen Louise of Prussia. ]

There is at Paretz, near Potsdam, a flower-bordered walk leadingfrom a grotto overlooking the Havel to an iron gate, above which isinscribed "May 20, 1810" and the letter "L. " Within the grotto aniron table bears in golden characters, "Remember the Absent. "

These words were engraved by order of Friedrich Wilhelm III. OfPrussia; and the "absent" he would have remembered--"the star of hislife, who had lighted him so truly on his darkened way"--was thewife who died of a broken heart before reaching middle age. 

Louise Augusta Wilhelmina, third daughter of Duke Charles ofMecklenburg-Strelitz, was born on March 10, 1776, in the city ofHanover. Her mother died when she was six years old, and henceforthshe and her sister Frederica lived with their grandmother, theLandgravine of Darmstadt, sometimes at the Burgfreiheit Palace, sometimes at a château in the Herrengarten, surrounded by formalgardens and orangeries. The girls were brought up simply, makingtheir own clothes, and going much among the poor. Now and then theymade expeditions to Strasburg or the Vosges Mountains; and, when theEmperor Leopold was crowned at Frankfort, the Frau von Goethe housedthem hospitably, and was highly entertained by the glee with whichthey worked a quaint sculptured pump in her courtyard. Two yearslater the advance of French troops compelled them to seek refugewith their eldest sister, the reigning Duchess of Hildburghausen;and on their homeward way they visited the Prussian head-quarters, that the Landgravine might present them to the king. His sons werewith him, and long afterward the Crown Prince told a friend, "I feltwhen I saw her, 'tis she or none on earth. "

The wooing was short. On April 24, 1793, he exchanged betrothalrings with Louise, and then rejoined his regiment. Soon after, thePrincesses of Mecklenburg went over to the camp, Louise appearing "aheavenly vision" in the eyes of Goethe, who saw her there. 

In the December of that same year Berlin, gay with flags and ablazewith colored lamps, welcomed Duke Charles and his daughters; and onChristmas Eve the diamond crown of the Hohenzollerns was placed onher fair head, and in her glistening silver robe she took part inthe solemn torch procession round the White Saloon. 

Then her young husband took her home to their palace in the "Unterden Linden. " They were very happy. In the sunshine of his wife'spresence the prince's spirit, crushed in childhood by a harsh tutor, soon revived, while Louise, though the darling of the court, wasalways most content when alone with him. 

"Thank God! you are my wife again, " he exclaimed, one day, when shehad laid aside her jewels. 

"Am I not always your wife?" she asked, laughingly. 

"Alas! no; too often you can be only the crown princess. "

Her father-in-law never wearied of showering kindnesses on his"Princess of Princesses. " On her eighteenth birthday he asked if shedesired anything he could give. "A handful of gold for the Berlinpoor, " was the prompt petition. 

"And how large a handful would the birthday child like?"

"As large as the heart of the kindest of kings. "

The Castle of Charlottenberg, one of his many gifts to the youngpair, proving too splendid for their simple tastes, he bought forthem the Manor of Paretz, about two miles from Potsdam. There Louisebusied herself with household affairs, while her husband gardened, strolled over his fields, or inspected his farm stock. They playedand sang together, or read Shakespeare and Goethe, while to completethis home-life came two baby boys: Fritz, born in October, 1795, andFriedrich Wilhelm, in March, 1797. Someone once asked Louise if thiscountry existence was not rather dull. "Oh! no, " she exclaimed; "Iam quite happy as the worthy lady of Paretz. "

But in the late autumn of 1797 the king died, and the quiet freedomof Paretz had to be exchanged for the restraints of court life. Little as either of the two desired regal pomp, they played theirnew parts well. Friedrich Wilhelm, stately in bearing, andacknowledged as the handsomest man in his realm, looked every inch aking; and if his laconic speech and caustic criticisms sometimesgave offence, the winning gentleness of his beautiful wife more thanmade amends. Nobles and citizens, statesmen, soldiers, and savantswere alike made welcome; and Louise knew instinctively how to makeeach show at his best. With eager interest she discussedPestalozzi's ideas with his disciples; and when Gotlöeb Hiller, thepoet-son of a miner, was presented to her, she led him aside, and bythe friendly ease with which she talked of things familiar to him, speedily banished his shyness. Indeed, ready as she was to recognizehigh gifts and to learn from all able to teach, yet it was to theobscure and suffering that her tones were most soft and gracious. Even in trifles her thoughtfulness was unfailing. When a count and ashoemaker were announced at the same moment, she gave audience firstto the shoemaker. "For time is more valuable to him. "

[Illustration: Queen Louise visiting the Poor. ]

At Dantzic she constantly wore an amber necklace, because it hadbeen the gift of the townsfolk. The voice which in childhood hadpleaded for the panting footman running beside her grandmother'scoach, might still be heard interceding, for when the royal carriagewas overturned near Warsaw, and the Oberk of Messterin rated theservants, Louise interposed: "We are not hurt, and our people haveassuredly been more alarmed than we. "

Sometimes the midday meal was spread beneath a forest tree, and fromfar and near the peasants flocked to get "even a glimpse of herlovely face. " They followed in crowds while she and the king climbedthe Schneekoppe on foot, but loyal shouts died into awed silencewhen, at the summit, Friedrich Wilhelm bared his head, and the twostanding side by side gazed at the glorious view. "That was one ofthe most blessed moments of my life, " Louise said afterward; "weseemed lifted above this earth and nearer our God. "

They entered the mines at Woldenberg by a swift-flowing stream, andtwenty years afterward the steersman of their boat was fond oftelling how, in the dark cavern--"The Foxes' Hole"--he saw her wellby the torchlight. "In all my life I never saw such a face. Shelooked grand, as a queen should look, but gentle as a child. Shegave me with her own hands two Holland ducats. My wife wears themwhen she goes to church, for what she touched is holy. "

Louise had never meddled in foreign politics. She had been, shedesigned to be, only the "Landesmutter, " and even when the murder ofthe Duc d'Enghien, seized on Prussian soil, aroused in Berlin astorm of indignation, in which she fully shared, she yet sympathizedin the mental distress which found vent in her husband'soften-repeated words, "I cannot decide for war. "

At last he did decide. In October, 1805, Napoleon ordered Bernadotteto march his army corps through Anspach. This contemptuous commenton Prussia's ten-years' forbearance was too much for the king'spride. Armies were raised in Franconia, Saxony, Westphalia, andwhile the excitement was at fever point the czar came to Berlin. Allhis rare charm of manner was brought to bear, and at midnight, inthe presence of Louise, the two monarchs, standing with claspedhands beside the tomb of the great Friedrich, solemnly pledgedthemselves to a close alliance. 

Alexander departed to lead his Russians to Moravia, and FriedrichWilhelm despatched a protest to the French camp; but the envoy, Haugwitz, arriving on the eve of Austerlitz, waited the issue of thebattle, and then, withholding his packet, proposed to the victor afresh treaty with Prussia. There was wrath in Berlin when his doingsbecame known. The king at first disowned the disgraceful compact, but Austerlitz had just taught him what Napoleon's enemies mightexpect. French troops were already massing on his frontier, and inan evil hour he broke faith with the czar! To Louise, who neitherfeared foe nor deserted friend, that was a bitter time--doubly sad, indeed, since most of the long winter was spent by the dying bed ofher youngest child. When she lost him her own strength broke down, and the doctors ordered her away to drink the Pyrmont waters. In thelate summer she was able to rejoin her husband, and he had startlingnews to tell, for war with France was close at hand. 

Since Haugwitz's fatal agreement Napoleon had heaped injuries onPrussia. Now, at least, king and people were of one mind. The youngPrussian officers sharpened their swords on the French ambassador'swindow-sills, patriotic songs were hailed with thunders of applausein street and theatre, and when the queen, clad in the uniform ofher own Hussars, rode at their head through the city, she wasgreeted with passionate loyalty. 

Unhappily, Friedrich Wilhelm, hitherto too tardy, was now tooprecipitate. He had been passive while France crushed Austria, andAustria, suspicious and disabled, neither could nor would assisthim. Russia, with better reason for distrust, responded generouslyto his appeal, but he did not wait for her promised aid. For all hishaste, Napoleon, with 180, 000 men, was nearing the Thuringian Forestbefore the Prussian troops left Berlin. They were very confident, those Prussian troops, and the shouting multitudes who watched thewell-trained artillery and cavalry defiling by, hardly dreamed ofdisaster; yet it came almost at once. The Saxon corps, led by theking's cousin, Prince Louis, pushing on too fast, was surprised andsurrounded, and the gallant young commander, the queen's dearfriend, the idol of the army, fell while rallying his men. 

Louise, who had hurriedly joined the king from Weimar, could hardlybe persuaded to leave him, but on the evening of October 13th heconfided her to a cavalry escort, promising speedy tidings of thecoming battle. As she threaded the lonely passes of the HartzMountains she heard the distant cannonading, and a broken sentencenow and again fell from her lips: "We know that all things worktogether for good. " Late in the misty October twilight she droveinto Brunswick. At Brandenburg a courier brought the news hertrembling heart awaited. All was lost! Twenty thousand Prussians layon the fields of Auerstadt and Jena, and the French were already inWeimar. The king was alive, but two horses had been killed underhim. Grief-stricken, travel-worn as she was, Louise must not halt. Before she reached Berlin her children had been sent toSchwedt-on-Oder. She followed thither, almost terrifying them by herchanged, despairing looks. As soon as she could check her weeping, she told her boys all she knew about Prince Louis's death. "Do notonly grieve for him. Be ready for Prussia's sake to meet death as hemet it, " and then, in burning, never-forgotten words, she bade themone day free their country and break the power of France. 

There seemed only a choice between utter destruction and uttersubmission, and yet when Napoleon demanded the cession of almost thewhole kingdom, Friedrich Wilhelm and his wife agreed that "onlydetermined resistance can save us. " She was slowly rallying atKönigsberg from a fever caught in the crowded city, when the cry wasraised of the coming French. Propped by pillows, swathed in shawls, she drove through blinding sleet to Memel, the one fortress stillleft to the king. At her first halting-place the wind whistled inthrough a broken window, and the melting snow dripped from the roofon to her bed. Her companions trembled for her, but she, calm andtrustful, hailed as a good omen the sunshine which welcomed themwithin the walls of Memel. 

A week later Benningsen and his Russians, who had been wadingknee-deep through Polish forests and fording swollen streams, alwayswith 90, 000 Frenchmen in hot pursuit, turned to bay amid the frozenlakes and drifted snows of Eylau. Next day those snows for milesaround were red with blood. It was hard to tell with whom the costlyvictory lay, but Napoleon despatched Bertrand to the Russianoutposts to propose an armistice, and Benningsen sent him on toMemel, reminding the Prussian king that it could not be theirinterest to grant what it was Napoleon's interest to ask. The termswere, indeed, far easier than those offered after June; butFriedrich Wilhelm, true to the ally who had held the field almostsingle-handed through that terrible winter, would make no separateagreement, nor did Louise receive more favorably a message toherself, conveying Napoleon's wish to pay his court to her in herown capital. 

Though the piercing Baltic winds tried her strength greatly, sheemployed herself whenever able in reading and visiting the over-fullhospitals. To a dear friend she said, "I can never be perfectlymiserable while faith in God is open to me. " "Only by patientperseverance, " so she wrote to her father, "can we succeed. Sooneror later I know we shall do so. "

It was not to be yet. On June 14, 1807, Napoleon annihilated theRussians at Friedland, and four days later Dantzic fell. Her tonegrew sadder. "We are not yet bereft of peace. My great sorrow isbeing unable to hope. "

As the czar could resist no longer and Napoleon desired peace, theymet at Tilsit, and there, on a covered raft moored midway in theNiemen, arranged the outlines of a treaty. The next day FriedrichWilhelm, yielding to stern necessity, accepted terms "to the lastdegree hard and overwhelming. " The czar, believing that Louise mightmove even Napoleon to clemency, her husband begged her to join himat Tilsit. On reading this summons she burst into tears, declaringthis the hardest task ever given her to do. "With my broken wing howcan I succeed?" she pathetically asked. 

Napoleon paid his respects soon after her arrival, and they met atthe stairhead. Louise, for Prussia's sake, forced herself to uttercourteous regrets that he should have to mount so steep a staircase. He answered blandly that no difficulties were feared when strivingfor a reward beyond. Then, touching her gauze robe, asked, "Is itcrêpe?"

"Shall we speak of such trifles at such a time?" was her only reply. 

He was silent; then demanded, "How could you make war on me?"

She told him that they had overrated their strength. 

"And relying on the great Friedrich's fame you deceived yourselves. "

Louise's clear eyes met his steadily. "Sire, resting on the greatFriedrich's fame, we might naturally deceive ourselves, if, indeed, we wholly did so. "

Then she told him that she had come to entreat him to be generous toPrussia. He answered respectfully, but made no promise. Again, withexceeding earnestness, she implored at least for Magdeburg, justthen Friedrich Wilhelm entered, and Napoleon abruptly took leave. 

"Sire, " said Talleyrand warningly to him, when they were alone, "shall posterity say that you threw away your great conquest for thesake of a lovely woman?"

Louise meanwhile dwelt again and again on Napoleon's words, "You aska great deal, but I will think about it. " Yet her heart was heavy, and when arrayed for the evening banquet in the splendid attire solong unworn, she likened herself sadly to the old German victimsdecked for sacrifice. Napoleon said of her afterward, "I knew Ishould see a beautiful and dignified queen; I found the mostinteresting woman and admirable queen I had ever known. "

The treaty of Tilsit restored to Friedrich Wilhelm a fragment of hiskingdom, but even this was to be held by the French till after thepayment of a huge indemnity. Napoleon's threat that he would makethe Prussian nobles beg their bread had hardly been a vain one, forthe unhappy Prussians had to feed, lodge, and clothe every Frenchsoldier quartered in their land. Dark as was the outlook, Louise wasupheld by loving pride in her husband. "After Eylau he might havedeserted a faithful ally. This he would not do. I believe hisconduct will yet bring good fortune to Prussia. "

To help forward that good fortune they sold most of the crown landsand the queen's jewels, and had the gold plate melted down. Amidtheir heavy anxieties and pains they were not wholly unhappy, thesetwo, who loved each other so entirely. "My Louise, " the king said toher one day, "you have grown yet dearer to me in this time oftrouble, for I more fully know the treasure I possess. "

She, too, could write of him, "The king is kinder to me than ever, agreat joy and reward after a union of fourteen years. " Still thoseabout her told of sleepless nights when prayer was her only relief. Her eyes had lost their brightness, her cheeks were pale, her steplanguid. By the Christmas of 1808 the last French soldier hadquitted Prussian soil; but it was not deemed safe for the royalfamily to return at once to Berlin, and they spent the summer atHufen, near Königsberg. Parents and children were constantlytogether, and the mother taught herself to believe that the sharptrials of those years would tell for good on her boys and girls. "Ifthey had been reared in luxury and prosperity they might think thatso it must always be. "

It was not till the end of 1809 that the exiles turned their faceshomeward. They travelled slowly, for the queen was still feeble. Everywhere a glad welcome greeted them; and on December 23d, the dayon which, sixteen years before, she had entered the capital agirl-bride, Louise drove through its familiar streets in a carriagepresented to her by the rejoicing citizens. Her father was waitingat the palace gate. He helped her to alight and led her in. Threeyears had gone by since she last crossed the threshold of her home, and what years they had been! Nor was the return all joy, for sheknew and dreaded the changes she would find there. Napoleon and hisgenerals had not departed empty handed. They had stripped the roomsof paintings and statues, of manuscripts and antiquities. 

As the doors closed a great shout arose from the vast crowd beforethe palace. Presently she appeared in the balcony, and all saw thetraces of long anguish in the lovely face, now bright with gratefulsmiles. 

After a solemn service in the Dom, the king and queen drove throughthe illuminated city to the opera-house. "The queen sat beside herhusband"--so wrote Fouqué afterward--"and as she talked she oftenraised her eyes to him with a very touching expression. . . . Ourbeloved queen has thanked us with tears. Bonaparte has dimmed thoseheavenly eyes . . . And we must do all we can to make them sparkleagain. "

The bare walls, the empty cabinets of the palace, accorded with thealmost ascetic habits now maintained there. Self-denial was madeeasy by one belief, that Prussia would arise from her greatsuffering stronger than before. The king and queen were not left towork alone toward that high end. Able generals replaced those who, through treachery or faint-heartedness, had surrendered thefortresses. Stein, now chief minister, curtailed the rights of thenobles, and gave the serfs an interest in guarding the soil theytilled; while Scharnhorst, by an ingenious evasion of Napoleon'sedict limiting the Prussian army, contrived to have 200, 000 menrapidly drilled and trained. The universities founded at Berlin andBreslau became the head-quarters of secret societies for thedeliverance of the Fatherland. Princes and professors, merchantsruined by the Berlin decrees, and peasants ground down by Frenchexactions, joined the Jugendbund, and implicitly obeyed the ordersof its unseen heads. Through town and country spread that vastbrotherhood, fired by the songs of Tieck and Arnim to live or diefor Prussia. 

And Louise watched thankfully the dawning promise of better days, "though, alas! we may die before they come. "

Perhaps that sad presentiment haunted her husband too. If she jestedwith her children he would say wistfully, "The queen is quiteherself to-day. What a blessing it will be if her mind recovers itsjoyous tone!"

That spring Louise was attacked by spasms of the heart. They did notlast long, and when the court moved to Potsdam she seemed to regainstrength, and showed much interest in discussing with Bishop Eylerthow best to train her boys so that they might serve their country. Though very weak, she accompanied her family to Hohengieritz, theking perforce returning to Berlin. The loving eyes that watched hersaw signs of amendment, but early on Monday, July 16th, the spasmsrecurred. For hours no remedies availed. She could only gasp for"Air! air!" and when the sharp pain had passed lay exhausted, nowmurmuring a few words of some hymn learnt as a child, faintlythanking God for each solace sent her, or entreating her grandmotherto rest. No complaint passed her lips; she was only "very, veryweary. "

They told her that couriers had been despatched for the king, andshe asked anxiously, "Will he soon come?" Before dawn he came, bringing the two elder boys. For those who tried to cheer him he hadonly one mournful reply: "If she were not mine she might recover. " Agleam of joy lighted her pale face when he came to her bedside, butperceiving his emotion she asked, "Am I then so very ill?" Unable toreply, he hurriedly left the room, and she said to those standingby, "His embrace was so wild, so fervent, that it seemed as thoughhe would take leave of me. Tell him not to do that, or I shall dieat once. "

He returned bringing in the children. 

"My Fritz! my Wilhelm!" She had only time for one long gaze, andthen the agonizing pain came again. One of the doctors tried toraise her, but she sank back. "Only death can help me;" and as allwatched in breathless silence, she leaned her head against theshoulder of a faithful attendant, murmured, "Lord Jesus, shortenit!" and with one deep-drawn breath passed away. 

JAMES WATT

By JOHN TIMES, F. S. A. 

(1736-1819)

[Illustration: James Watt. ]

James Watt was born at Greenock, January 19, 1736. He was the fourthchild in a family which, for a hundred years, had more or lessprofessed mathematics and navigation. His constitution was delicate, and his mental powers were precocious. He was distinguished from anearly age by his candor and truthfulness; and his father, toascertain the cause of any of his boyish quarrels, used to say, "LetJames speak; from him I always hear the truth. " James also showedhis constructive tastes equally early, experimenting on hisplaythings with a set of small carpenter's tools, which his fatherhad given him. At six he was still at home. "Mr. Watt, " said afriend to the father, "you ought to send that boy to school, and notlet him trifle away his time at home. " "Look what he is doing beforeyou condemn him, " was the reply. The visitor then observed the childhad drawn mathematical lines and figures on the hearth, and wasengaged in a process of calculation. On putting questions to him, hewas astonished at his quickness and simplicity. "Forgive me, " saidhe, "this child's education has not been neglected; this is nocommon child. "

[Illustration: Watt discovering the Condensation of Steam. ]

Watt's cousin, Mrs. Marian Campbell, describes his inventive capacityas a story-teller, and details an incident of his occupying himselfwith the steam of a tea-kettle, and by means of a cup and a spoonmaking an early experiment in the condensation of steam. To thisincident she probably attached more importance than was its due, fromreverting to it when illustrated by her after-recollections. Out ofthis story, reliable or not in the sense ascribed to it, M. Aragoobtained an oratorical point for an _éloge_, which he delivered to theFrench Institute. Watt may or may not have been occupied as a boy withthe study of the condensation of steam while he was playing with thekettle. The story suggests a possibility, nothing more; though it hasbeen made the foundation of a grave announcement, the subject of apretty picture, and will ever remain a basis for suggestivespeculation. 

Watt was sent to a commercial school, where he was provided with afair outfit of Latin and with some elements of Greek; butmathematics he studied with greater zest, and with proportionatesuccess. By the time he was fifteen, he had read twice, with graveattention, Gravesande's "Elements of Natural Philosophy;" and "whileunder his father's roof he went on with various chemicalexperiments, repeating them again and again, until satisfied oftheir accuracy from his own observations. " He even made himself asmall electrical machine, about 1750-53; no mean performance at thatdate, since, according to Priestley's "History of Electricity, " theLeyden phial itself was not invented until the years 1745-46. 

His pastime lay chiefly in his father's marine store, among thesails and ropes, the blocks and tackle: or by the old gray gatewayof the Mansion House on the hill above Greenock, where he wouldloiter away hours by day, and at night lie down on his back andwatch the stars through the trees. 

At this early age Watt suffered from continual and violentheadaches, which often affected his nervous system for many days, even weeks; and he was similarly afflicted throughout his long life. He seldom rose early, but accomplished more in a few hours' studythan ordinary minds do in many days. He was never in a hurry, andalways had leisure to give to his friends, to poetry, romance, andthe publications of the day; he read indiscriminately almost everynew book he could procure. He assisted his father in his business, and soon learned to construct with his own hands several of thearticles required in the way of his parent's trade; and by means ofa small forge, set up for his own use, he repaired and made variouskinds of instruments, and converted, by the way, a large silver coininto a punch-ladle, as a trophy of his early skill as a metal-smith. From this aptitude for ingenious handiwork, and in accordance withhis own deliberate choice, it was decided that he should proceed toqualify himself for following the trade of a mathematical instrumentmaker. He accordingly went to Glasgow, in June, 1754, and fromthere, after a year's stay, he proceeded for better instruction toLondon. 

On Watt's arrival in the metropolis, he sought a situation, but invain, and he was beginning to despond, when he obtained work withone John Morgan, an instrument-maker, in Finch Lane, Cornhill. Herehe gradually became proficient in making quadrants, parallel rulers, compasses, theodolites, etc. , until, at the end of a year'spractice, he could make "a brass sector with a French joint, whichis reckoned as nice a piece of framing work as is in the trade. "During this interval he contrived to live upon eight shillings aweek, exclusive of his lodging. His fear of the press-gang and hisbodily ailments, however, led to his quitting London in August, 1756, and returning to Scotland, after investing twenty guineas inadditional tools. 

At Glasgow, through the intervention of Dr. Dick, he was firstemployed in cleaning and repairing some of the instruments belongingto the college; and, after some difficulty, he received permissionto open a shop within the precincts as "mathematical instrumentmaker to the University. " Here Watt prospered, pursuing alike hiscourse of manual labor and of mental study, and especially extendinghis acquaintance with physics; endeavoring, as he said, "to find outthe weak side of nature, and to vanquish her. " About this time hecontrived an ingenious machine for drawing in perspective; and fromfifty to eighty of these instruments, manufactured by him, were sentto different parts of the world. He had now procured the friendshipof Dr. Black and another University worthy, John Robison, who, instating the circumstances of his first introduction to Watt, says:"I saw a workman, and expected no more; but was surprised to find aphilosopher as young as myself, and always ready to instruct me. "

It was some time in 1764 that the professor of natural philosophy inthe University desired Watt to repair a pretty model of Newcomen'ssteam-engine. Like everything which came into Watt's hands, it soonbecame an object of most serious study. 

The interesting little model, as altered by the hand of Watt, waslong placed beside the noble statue of the engineer in the HunterianMuseum at Glasgow. Watt himself, when he had got the bearings of hisinvention, could think of nothing else but his machine, andaddressed himself to Dr. Roebuck, of the Carron Iron-works, with theview of its practical introduction to the world. A partnershipensued, but the connection did not prove satisfactory. Watt went onwith his experiments, and in September, 1766, wrote to a friend: "Ithink I have laid up a stock of experience that will _soon_ pay mefor the trouble it has cost me. " Yet it was between eight and nineyears before that invaluable experience was made available, so aseither to benefit the public or repay the inventor; and a muchlonger term elapsed before it was possible for that repayment to bereckoned in the form of substantial profit. 

Watt now began to practise as a land-surveyor and civil engineer. His first engineering work was a survey for a canal to unite theForth and Clyde, in furtherance of which he had to appear before theHouse of Commons. His consequent journey to London was still moreimportant, for then it was that he saw for the first time the greatmanufactory which Boulton had established at Soho, and of which hewas afterward himself to be the guiding intelligence. In themeantime, among his other performances, he invented a micrometer formeasuring distances; and, what is still more remarkable, heentertained the idea of moving canal-boats by the steam-enginethrough the instrumentality of a _spiral oar_, which as nearly aspossible coincides with the screw-propeller of our day. 

Watt's negotiations for partnership with Boulton were long andtedious. Dr. Roebuck's creditors concurred because, curiouslyenough, _none of them valued Watt's engine at a farthing_. Watthimself now began to despair, and his health failed; yet in 1774, when he had removed to Birmingham, he wrote to his father: "Thefire-engine I have invented is now going, and answers much betterthan any other that has yet been made; and I expect that theinvention will be very beneficial to me. "

A long series of experimental trials was, nevertheless, requisitebefore the engine could be brought to such perfection as to renderit generally available to the public, and therefore profitable toits manufacturers. In January, 1775, six years of the patent hadelapsed, and there seemed some probability of the remaining eightrunning out as fruitlessly. An application which was made for theextension of its term was unexpectedly opposed by the eloquence ofBurke; but the orator and his associates failed, and the extensionwas accorded by Act of Parliament. 

The first practical employment of Watt's engines to any considerableextent was in the mining districts of Cornwall, where he himselfwas, in consequence, compelled to spend much of his time subsequentto 1775. Here he had to contend not only with natural obstacles inthe dark abysses of deeply flooded mines, but with a rude andobstinate class of men as deeply flooded by inveterate prejudices. The result in the way of profit was not, however, satisfactory, notwithstanding the service to the mining interest was enormous. "Itappears, " says Watt, in 1780, "by our books, that Cornwall hashitherto eat up all the profits we have drawn from it, and all wehave got by other places, and a good sum of our own money to thebargain. "

At this stage Watt himself was more fertile in mechanical inventionsthan in any other portion of his busy life. Taking his patents intheir chronological order, the first (subsequent to that of 1769)was "For a new method of copying letters and other writingsexpeditiously, " by means of copying _presses_. Of the same date washis invention of a machine "for drying linen and muslin by steam. "On October 25, 1781, he took out his third patent (the second of thesteam-engine series), "for certain new methods of applying thevibrating or reciprocating motion of steam or fire engines, toproduce a continued rotative motion round an axis or centre, andthereby to give motion to the wheels of mills or other machines. "One of these methods was that commonly known as the _sun-and-planetwheels_; they were five in all. A favorite employment of his in theworkshops at Soho, in the later months of 1783 and earlier ones of1784, was to teach his steam-engine, now become nearly as docile asit was powerful, to work a tilt-hammer for forging iron and makingsteel. "Three hundred blows per minute--a thing never done before, "filled him, as his biographer says, with feelings of excusablepride. Another patent in the steam-engine series, taken out in 1784, contained, besides other methods of converting a circular or angularmotion into a perpendicular or rectilineal motion, the well-knownand much-admired _parallel motion_, and the application of thesteam-engine to give motion to wheel-carriages for carrying personsand goods. To ascertain the exact number of strokes made by anengine during a given time, and thereby to check the cheats of theCornish miners, Watt also invented the "Counter, " with its severalindexes. Among his leading improvements, introduced at variousperiods, were the _throttle-valve_, the application of the_governor_, the _barometer_ or float, the _steam-gauge_, and theindicator. The term during which he seems to have thus combined thegreatest maturity with the greatest activity of intellect, and theportion of his life which they comprehended, was from his fortiethto his fiftieth year. Yet it was a term of increased suffering fromhis acute sick-headaches, and remarkable for the infirmities overwhich he triumphed; notwithstanding, he himself complained of his"stupidity and want of the inventive faculty. "

Watt's chemical studies in 1783, and the calculations they involvedfrom experiments made by foreign chemists, induced him to make aproposal for a philosophical _uniformity of weights and measures_;and he discussed this proposal with Priestley and Magellan. WhileWatt was examining the constituent parts of water, he hadopportunities of familiar intercourse not only with Priestley, butwith Withering, Keir, Edgeworth, Galton, Darwin, and his ownpartner, Boulton--all men above the average for their commoninterest in scientific inquiries. Dr. Parr frequently attended theirmeetings, and they kept up a correspondence with Sir WilliamHerschel, Sir Joseph Banks, Dr. Solander, and Afzelius. Mrs. Schimmelpenninck, who was greatly given to physiognomical studies, has left us this picture of Watt at this period. 

"Mr. Boulton was a man to rule society with dignity; Mr. Watt, tolead the contemplative life of a deeply introverted and patientlyobservant philosopher. He was one of the most complete specimens ofthe melancholic temperament. His head was generally bent forward, orleaning on his hand in meditation; his shoulders stooping, and hischest falling in; his limbs lank and unmuscular, and his complexionsallow. His intellectual development was magnificent; comparison andcausality immense, with large ideality and constructiveness, individuality, an enormous concentrativeness and caution. 

"He had a broad Scottish accent; gentle, modest, and unassumingmanners; yet, when he entered a room, men of letters, men ofscience, nay, military men, artists, ladies, even little children, thronged round him. Ladies would appeal to him on the best means ofdevising grates, curing smoky chimneys, warming their houses, andobtaining fast colors. I can speak from experience of his teachingme how to make a dulcimer and improve a Jew's harp. "

In the year 1786, Watt and Boulton visited Paris, on the invitationof the French Government, to superintend the erection of certainsteam-engines, and especially to suggest improvements in the greathydraulic machine of Marly, which Watt himself designates a"venerable" work. In Paris Watt made many acquaintances, includingLavoisier, Laplace, Fourcroy, and others scarcely less eminent; andwhile here he discussed with Berthollet a new method of _bleaching_by chlorides, an invention of the latter which Watt subsequentlyintroduced into England. 

Meanwhile Watt had vigilantly to defend his patents at home, whichwere assailed by unworthy and surreptitious rivals as soon as it wasproved that they were pecuniarily valuable. Some of the competingengines, as Watt himself described them, were simply asthmatic. "Hornblower's, at Radstock, was obliged to stand still once everyten minutes to snore and snort. " "Some were like Evan's mill, _whichwas a gentlemanly mill_; it would go when it had nothing to do, butit refused to work. " The legal proceedings, both in equity and atcommon law, which now became necessary, were numerous. One bill ofcosts, from 1796 to 1800, amounted to between £5, 000 and £6, 000; andthe mental and bodily labor, the anxiety and vexation, which weresuperadded, involved a fearful tax on the province of Watt'sdiscoveries. 

With the year 1800 came the expiration of the privilege of thepatent of 1769, as extended by the statute of 1775; and also thedissolution of the original copartnership of Messrs. Boulton andWatt, then of five-and-twenty years' duration. The contract wasrenewed by their sons, the business having become so profitable thatWatt and his children were provided with a source of independentincome; and at the age of sixty-four the great inventor hadpersonally realized some of the benefits he contemplated. 

Henceforth Watt's ingenuity became excursive, discretionary, almostcapricious; but in every phase and form it continued to bebeneficent. In 1808 he founded a prize in Glasgow College, as anacknowledgment of "the many favors that learned body had conferredupon him. " In 1816 he made a donation to the town of Greenock, "toform the beginning of a scientific library" for the instruction ofits young men. Nor, amid such donations, were others wanting on hispart, such as true religion prescribes, to console the poor andrelieve the suffering. 

In 1816, on a visit to Greenock, Watt made a voyage in a steamboatto Rothsay and back again. In the course of this experimental triphe pointed out to the engineer of the boat the method of "backing"the engine. With a foot-rule he demonstrated to him what he meant. Not succeeding, however, he at last, under the impulse of the rulingpassion (and we must remember he was then eighty), threw off hisovercoat, and putting his hand to the engine himself, showed thepractical application of his lecture. Previously to this, the"backstroke" of the steamboat engine was either unknown or notgenerally known. The practice was to stop the engine entirely aconsiderable time before the vessel reached the point of mooring, inorder to allow for the gradual and natural diminution of her speed. 

With regard to the application of steam power to _locomotion onland_, it is remarkable enough that, when Watt's attention was firstdirected, by his friend Robison, to the steam-engine, "he (Robison)at that time drew out an idea of applying the power to the moving ofwheel-carriages. " "But the scheme, " adds Watt, "was not matured, andwas soon abandoned on his going abroad. "

In 1769, however, when he heard that a linen-draper, one Moore, hadtaken out a patent for moving wheel-carriages by steam, he replied:"If linen-draper Moore does not use my engine to drive his chaises, he can't drive them by steam. " In the specification of his patent of1784, he even described the principles and construction of"steam-engines which are applied to give motion to wheel-carriagesfor removing persons or goods, or other matters, from place toplace, " and in 1786, Watt himself had a steam-carriage "of some sizeunder hand;" but his most developed plan was to move such carriages"on a hard smooth plane, " and there is no evidence to show that heever anticipated the union of the rail and wheel. 

Among Watt's mechanical recreations, soon after the date of the lastof his steam-engine patents, were four plans of making lamps, whichhe describes in a letter to Argand; and for a long time lamps weremade at Soho upon his principles, which gave a light surpassing, both in steadiness and brilliancy, anything of the kind that hadappeared. About a year after, in 1788, he made "a pretty instrumentfor determining the specific gravities of liquids, " having, he saysto Dr. Black, improved on a hint he had taken. 

Watt also turned his "idle thoughts" toward the construction of an_arithmetical machine_, but he does not appear ever to haveprosecuted this design further than by mentally considering themanner in which he could make it perform the processes ofmultiplication and division. 

Early in the present century Watt devised, for the Glasgowwater-works, to bring pure spring-water across the Clyde, anarticulated suction-pipe, with joints formed on the principle ofthose in a lobster's tail, and so made capable of accommodatingitself to all the actual and possible bendings at the bottom of theriver. This pipe was, moreover, executed at Soho from his plans, andwas found to succeed perfectly. 

Watt describes, as his hobby, a _machine to copy sculpture_, suggested to him by an implement he had seen and admired in Paris in1802, where it was used for tracing and multiplying the dies ofmedals. He foresaw the possibility of enlarging its powers so as tomake it capable of working even on wood and marble, to do for solidmasses and in hard materials what his copying machine of 1782 hadalready done for drawings and writings impressed upon flat surfacesof paper--to produce, in fact, a perfect fac-simile of the originalmodel. He worked at this machine most assiduously, and his "likenesslathe, " as he termed it, was set up in a garret, which, with all itsmysterious contents, its tools, and models included, have beencarefully preserved as he left them. 

It is gratifying to find that the charm of Watt's presence was notdimmed by age. "His friends, " says Lord Jeffrey, speaking of a visitwhich he paid to Scotland when upward of eighty, "in that part ofthe country never saw him more full of intellectual vigor andcolloquial animation, never more delightful or more instructive. " Itwas then also that Sir Walter Scott, meeting him "surrounded by alittle band of northern literati, " saw and heard what he felt he wasnever to see or hear again--"the alert, kind, benevolent old man, his talents and fancy overflowing on every subject, with hisattention alive to everyone's question his information at everyone'scommand. " Campbell, the poet, who saw him later, in the beginningof 1819 (he was then eighty-three), describes him as so full ofanecdote, that he spent one of the most amusing days he had ever hadwith him. Lord Brougham, later still, in the summer of the sameyear, found his instructive conversation and his lively and evenplayful manner unchanged. But in the autumn of this year, on August19th, he expired tranquilly at his house at Heathfield. He wasburied at Handsworth. A tribute to his memory was but tardilyrendered by the nation. 

Jeffrey and Arago added more elaborate tributes to Watt's genius;and Wordsworth has declared that he looked upon him, considering hismagnitude and universality, "as perhaps the most extraordinary manthat this country has ever produced. " His noblest monument is, however, his own work. 

DR. EDWARD JENNER

By JOHN TIMBS, F. S. A. 

(1749-1823)

[Illustration: Dr. Edward Jenner. ]

Few of the many thousand ills which human flesh is heir to, havespread such devastation among the family of man as small-pox. Itsuniversality has ranged from the untold tribes of savages to thesilken baron of civilization; and its ravages on life and beautyhave been shown in many a sad tale of domestic suffering. To staythe destroying hand of such a scourge, which by some has beenidentified with the Plague of Athens, was reserved for EdwardJenner, the discoverer of vaccination. 

The great fact can, however, be traced half a century beforeJenner's time. In the journal of John Byron, F. R. S. , under date June3, 1725, it is recorded that: "At a meeting of the Royal Society, Sir Isaac Newton presiding, Dr. Jurin read a case of small-pox, where a girl who had been inoculated and had been vaccinated, wastried and had them not again; but another [a] boy, caught thesmall-pox from this girl, and had the confluent kind and died. "

This case occurred at Hanover. The inoculation of the girl seems tohave failed entirely; it was suspected that she had not taken the truesmall-pox; doubts, however, were removed, as a boy, who daily saw thegirl, fell ill and died, "having had a very bad small-pox of theconfluent sort. " This is the first use of the word _vaccination_, or, more familiarly, cow-pox, which is an eruption arising from theinsertion into the system of matter obtained from the eruption on theteats and udders of cows, and especially in Gloucestershire; it isalso frequently denominated _vaccine matter_; and the whole affair, inoculation and its consequences, is called vaccination, from theLatin _vacca_, a cow. 

It is admitted that Jenner's merit lay in the scientific applicationof his knowledge of the fact that the chapped hands of milkers of cowssometimes proved a preventive of small-pox, and from those of themwhom he endeavored to inoculate resisting the infection. These resultswere probably known far beyond Jenner's range, and long before histime; for we have respectable testimony of their having come withinthe observation of a Cheshire gentleman, who had been informed of themshortly after settling on his estate in Prestbury parish, in or about1740. This does not in the least detract from Jenner's merit, butshows that to his genius for observation, analogy, and experiment, weare indebted for this application of a simple fact, only incidentallyremarked by others, but by Jenner rendered the stepping-stone to hisgreat discovery--or, in other words, extending its benefits from asingle parish in Gloucestershire to the whole world. 

We agree with a contemporary, that, "among all the names which oughtto be consecrated by the gratitude of mankind, that of Jenner standspre-eminent. It would be difficult, we are inclined to sayimpossible, to select from the catalogue of benefactors to humannature an individual who has contributed so largely to thepreservation of life, and to the alleviation of suffering. Intowhatever corner of the world the blessing of printed knowledge haspenetrated, there also will the name of Jenner be familiar; but thefruits of his discovery have ripened in barbarous soils, where bookshave never been opened, and where the savage does not pause toinquire from what source he has derived relief. No improvement inthe physical sciences can bear a parallel with that which ministersin every part of the globe to the prevention of deformity, and, in agreat proportion, to the exemption from actual destruction. "

The ravages which the small-pox formerly committed are scarcelyconceived or recollected by the present generation. An instance ofdeath occurring after vaccination is now eagerly seized andcommented upon; yet seventy years have not elapsed since thisdisease might fairly be termed the scourge of mankind, and an enemymore extensive and more insidious than even the plague. A familyblighted in its fairest hopes through this terrible visitation wasan every-day spectacle: the imperial House of Austria lost eleven ofits offspring in fifty years. This instance is mentioned because itis historical; but in the obscure and unrecorded scenes of life thispest was often a still more merciless intruder. 

Edward Jenner was the third son of the Vicar of Berkeley, inGloucestershire, where he was born, May 17, 1749. Before he was nineyears of age he showed a growing taste for natural history, informing a collection of the nests of the dormouse; and when atschool at Cirencester he was fond of searching for fossils, whichabound in that neighborhood. He was articled to a surgeon atSudbury, near Bristol, and at the end of his apprenticeship came toLondon, and studied under John Hunter, with whom he resided as apupil for two years and formed a lasting friendship with that greatman. In 1773 he returned to his native village, and commencedpractice as a surgeon and apothecary, with great success. Nevertheless, he abstracted from the fatigues of country practicesufficient time to form a museum of specimens of comparative anatomyand natural history. He was much liked, was a man of lively andsimple humor, and loved to tell his observation of nature in homelyverse; and in 1788 he communicated to the Royal Society his curiouspaper on the cuckoo. At the same time he carried to London a drawingof the casual disease, as seen on the hands of the milkers, andshowed it to Sir Everard Home and to others. John Hunter had alludedfrequently to the fact in his lectures; Dr. Adams had heard of thecow-pox both from Hunter and Clive, and mentions it in his "Treatiseon Poisons, " published in 1795, three years previous to Jenner's ownpublication. Still, no one had the courage or the penetration toprosecute the inquiry except Jenner. 

Jenner now resolved to confine his practice to medicine, andobtained, in 1792, a degree of M. D. From the University of St. Andrew's. 

We now arrive at the great event of Jenner's life. While pursuinghis professional education in the house of his master at Sudbury, ayoung countrywoman applied for advice; and the subject of small-poxbeing casually mentioned, she remarked she could not take thesmall-pox because she had had cow-pox; and he then learnt that itwas a popular notion in that district, that milkers who had beeninfected with a peculiar eruption which sometimes occurred on theudder of the cow, were completely secure against the small-pox. Themedical gentlemen of the district told Jenner that the securitywhich it gave was not perfect; and Sir George Baker, the physician, treated it as a popular error. But Jenner thought otherwise; andalthough John Hunter and other eminent surgeons disregarded thesubject, Jenner pursued it. He found at Berkeley that some persons, to whom it was impossible to give small-pox by inoculation, had hadcow-pox; but that others who had had cow-pox yet received small-pox. This led to the doctor's discovery that the cow was subject to acertain eruption, which had the power of guarding from small-pox;and next, that it might be possible to propagate the cow-pox, andwith it security from the small-pox, first from the cow to the humanbody, and thence from one person to another. Here, then, was animportant discovery, that matter from the cow, intentionallyinserted into the body, gave a slighter ailment than when receivedotherwise, and yet had the same effect of completely preventingsmall-pox. But of what advantage was it for mankind that the cows ofGloucestershire possessed a matter thus singularly powerful? Howwere persons living at a distance to derive benefit from this greatdiscovery? Dr. Jenner, having inoculated several persons from a cow, took the matter from the human vesicles thus produced, andinoculated others, and others from them again; thus making it passin succession through many individuals, and all with the same goodeffect in preventing small-pox. 

An opportunity occurred of making a trial of the latter on May 14, 1796 (a day still commemorated by the annual festival at Berlin), when a boy, aged eight years, was vaccinated with matter from thehands of a milkmaid; the experiment succeeded, and he was inoculatedfor small-pox on July 1st following without the least effect. Dr. Jenner then extended his experiments, and in 1798 published hisfirst memoir on the subject. He had originally intended tocommunicate his results to the Royal Society, but was admonished notto do so, lest it should injure the character which he hadpreviously acquired among scientific persons by his paper on thenatural history of the cuckoo. In the above work Dr. Jennerannounces the security against small-pox afforded by the truecow-pox, and also traces the origin of that disease in the cow to asimilar affection of the heel of the horse. 

The method, however, met with much opposition, until, in thefollowing year, thirty-three leading physicians and forty eminentsurgeons of London signed an earnest expression of their confidencein the efficacy of the cow-pox. The royal family of England exertedthemselves to encourage Jenner; the Duke of Clarence, the Duke ofYork, the king, the Prince of Wales, and the queen bestowed greatattention upon Jenner. The incalculable utility of cow-pox was atlast evinced; and observation and experience furnished evidenceenough to satisfy the Baillies and Heberdens, the Monros andGregorys of Britain, as well as the physicians of Europe, India, andAmerica. The new practice now began to supersede the old planpursued by the Small-pox Hospital, which had been founded forinoculation. The two systems were each pursued until 1808, when thehospital governors discontinued small-pox inoculation. 

A committee of Parliament was now appointed to consider the claimsof Jenner upon the gratitude of his country. It was clearly provedthat he had converted into scientific demonstration a tradition ofthe peasantry. Two parliamentary grants, of £10, 000 and £20, 000, were voted to him. In 1808 the National Vaccine Establishment wasformed by Government, and placed under his direction. Honors wereprofusely showered upon him by various foreign princes, as well asby the principal learned bodies of Europe. 

Dr. Jenner passed the remainder of his years principally at Berkeleyand at Cheltenham, continuing to the last, his inquiries on thegreat object of his life. He died at Berkeley, in February, 1823, atthe green old age of seventy-four: his remains lie in the chancel ofthe parish church of Berkeley. A marble statue by Sievier has beenerected to his memory in the nave of Gloucester Cathedral; andanother statue of him has been placed in a public building atCheltenham. Five medals have been struck in honor of Jenner: threeby the German nation; one by the surgeons of the British navy; andthe fifth by the London Medical Society. 

[Illustration: The First Vaccination--Dr. Jenner. ]

Dr. Jenner was endowed with a rare quality of mind, which it may beboth interesting and beneficial to sketch. A singular originality ofthought was his leading characteristic. He appeared to havenaturally inherited what in others is the result of protractedstudy. He seemed to think from originality of perception alone, and not from induction. He arrived by a glance at inferences whichwould have occupied the laborious conclusions of most men. In humanand animal pathology, in comparative anatomy, and in geology, heperceived facts and formed theories instantaneously, and with aspirit of inventive penetration which distanced the slowerapproaches of more learned men. But if his powers of mind weresingularly great, the qualities which accompanied them were stillmore felicitous. He possessed the most singular amenity ofdisposition with the highest feeling, the rarest simplicity unitedto the highest genius. In the great distinction and the superiorsociety to which his discovery introduced him, the native cast ofhis character was unchanged. Among the great monarchs of Europe, who, when in Great Britain, solicited his acquaintance, he was theunaltered Dr. Jenner of his birthplace. In the other moral points ofhis character, affection, friendship, beneficence, and liberalitywere pre-eminent In religion, his belief was equally remote fromlaxity and fanaticism; and he observed to an intimate friend, notlong before his death, that he wondered not that the people wereungrateful to him for his discovery, but he was surprised that theywere ungrateful to God for the benefits of which he was the humblemeans. 

ROBERT FULTON[8]

 [Footnote 8: Copyright, 1864, by Selmar Hess. ]

By OLIVER OPTIC

(1765-1815)

[Illustration: Robert Fulton. ]

Very few inventors have achieved success in giving to the world newor improved methods of carrying on the business of life without longand hard study, repeated experiments and failures, and tryingstruggles with opposing elements. Many have labored through longyears of poverty and obscurity to dazzle their fellow-beings in theend by the triumph of genius. The idea of an inventor has almostbecome coupled with that of anxiety, patient or impatient waiting, trials, and hardships. They are usually enthusiasts in the specialpursuit to which they devote themselves, and the coldness andincredulity of those whose approval they seek to win, wear heavilyupon them. The chilling common-sense of men more practical thanthemselves overwhelms them. 

If the wonderful improvements of the present and the past age couldbe placed in comparison with the attempts, the struggles, toaccomplish what has now been achieved, the list of failures wouldfar outnumber that of successes. Many of those who have renderedpriceless blessings to their own and after generations by theproduction of wonderful machines or methods from the fine fibre oftheir brains, were plundered and buffeted, even in the midst oftheir grand successes, to such a degree that it requires a loftycomprehension to determine whether their lives were triumphs ordefeats. Sometimes the failure of one generation becomes the successof the next. 

Born the same year that gave Robert Fulton to the world was EliWhitney, who really made "cotton king, " so that the great staple ofthe South yielded millions upon millions of dollars to the planters;but he might have died a beggar, so far as his marvellous inventionaffected his fortunes. Before he had fully completed his machine forseparating the seeds from the cotton, which only two persons hadbeen permitted to see, his workshop was broken open, and it wasstolen. His idea was incorporated in other machines before he hadobtained his patent, though it was only his own that transmutedcotton into gold. False reports, the repudiation of contracts forroyalties fairly made, the refusal of Congress, through Southerninfluence, to renew his patent, constant litigation to protect hisrights, harassed his life, and robbed him of the pecuniary resultsof his success. Defeated, he gave up the battle, devoted hisattention to the manufacture of firearms, and finally made a fortunein this business. Fulton's experience was not very different. 

On the other hand, important discoveries in methods and mechanicalappliances have been made by accident, as it were, and fortunesaccrued from very little labor or study; but these are theexceptions rather than the rule. 

It would be difficult to estimate the influence upon the prosperityof the United States of steam-navigation. It came but a few yearsafter the organization of the Federal Government, when the greaterportion of the territorial extent of the country was a wilderness, and preceded the general use of railroads by a quarter of a century. Transportation on the inland waters of the nation was slow, difficult, and expensive, and the introduction of the steamboat uponits great lakes and rivers, notably upon the latter, was a new erain its history. On the great streams of the West flatboats floatedfor weeks, laden with the productions of the States, on their way toa market, where days or hours are sufficient at the present time. Between the metropolis of the nation and the capital of New York, the sloops, which were the only means of communication by water, required an average of four days to make the trip of about onehundred and fifty miles, while to-day it is accomplished in half aday or less. 

Now all the navigable rivers of the country are alive withsteamboats, and the growth and development of the States have beenmainly indebted to the introduction of steam navigation. On thegreat lakes, though more available for transportation by means ofsailing vessels, the same powerful agency has achieved wonders, andall of them are now covered by lines of steamers, by which, eitheras tow-boats or independent vessels, a large proportion of theinland commerce of the nation is carried on. On the ocean the resultof the introduction of steam-navigation is even more impressive, andnations separated by thousands of miles of rolling billows now joinhands, as it were, with hearts commercially united, if not moreintimately, through the medium of peace-giving commerce, of whichthousands of gigantic steamers are the angel-messengers. On theAtlantic a score or more of them leave the one side for the otherevery week, and at the present time a merchant may breakfast in NewYork on Saturday, and dine in London the next Saturday. 

It is now conceded, both in Europe and America, that the world isindebted to Robert Fulton for the practical application of steam tothe purposes of navigation. Whatever has been claimed for or byothers in regard to the priority of the invention or application ofthe mighty power of steam to the propulsion of vessels, Fulton was"the first to apply it with any degree of practical success, " as anEnglish work states it. As one who labored for years over the ideawhich came from his own brain, though it also came to others, whowellnigh sacrificed his own life in its improvement, and whoachieved the crowning glory of its utility, he is certainly entitledto be regarded and honored as the Father of Steam-Navigation. 

Robert Fulton was born in a small village near Lancaster, in theState of Pennsylvania, in the year 1765. He was the son of a poorman of Scotch-Irish descent, who died when his son was only threeyears old. He obtained only a common-school education, which heafterward increased by his own efforts. He early manifested a tastefor, and considerable skill in, drawing and painting, and heselected this art as his profession, though he was more inclined tomechanical occupations, and spent his leisure hours in the shops ofthe workmen in his vicinity. He was somewhat precocious in hisdevelopment, and at the age of seventeen he established himself as aportrait painter. He could hardly have attained to any high standardin art, though it appears that he had considerable success in hisoccupation, for at the age of twenty-one he had purchased a smallfarm in the western part of the State, where he placed his mother, indicating that he had a proper filial regard for the welfare of hisremaining parent. It was evident from this success that he haddecided talent and that it attracted the attention of others. 

He was advised to visit England and place himself under the tuitionof Benjamin West, the eminent American painter, who had achieveddistinguished success in art. He followed this advice, was kindlyreceived by the great artist, and remained as an inmate of his homefor some years. In the palaces and mansions of the British nobilitywere treasured up many of the most noted pictures of the day and ofthe past. In order to see, study, and copy these, Fulton procuredletters of introduction which gave him admission to these paintings. He resided for some time in the stately mansions of the Duke ofBridgewater and Earl Stanhope. Both of these peers were largelyinterested in making internal improvements in England, especially inpromoting inland navigation by canals. 

The duke was the possessor of immense wealth, and he had investedlargely in companies connected with the canal system. Through himFulton became interested in the same subject, and his mechanicaltastes and talent drew him in that direction. The result was that heabandoned his easel and became a civil engineer, a profession hardlyknown by that name in the early part of this century. Earl Stanhopewas also of a mechanical turn of mind, and had projected someimportant enterprises. At that time he was engaged upon a schemewhich afterward filled up so much of the existence of Fulton--theapplication of steam to navigation. 

The earl had devised a method of accomplishing the result, and hadcaused a small craft to be built which was to be propelled by aseries of floats, by some compared to the paddles of a canoe, and byothers to the feet of water-fowls. He described his plan to Fulton, who did not regard it as practicable, and stated plainly the reasonsfor his belief. The earl clung to his idea, highly as he appreciatedthe talents of the critic. The inventor resided at Birmingham abouttwo years, and was employed in a subordinate capacity at his newlyadopted profession for the greater portion of the time. In this cityhe made the acquaintance of Watt, who had developed the steam-enginefrom a mere pumping-machine to something near what it is at thepresent time. 

Fulton's inventive genius was exercised during his residence atBirmingham, and he devised an improvement of the machine for sawingmarble, from which he reaped both honor and profit. He produced amachine for spinning flax, and for the manufacture of ropes, andalso one for excavating canals or river bottoms, for which purposemany such are now in use. As an author he wrote a work on canals, and published a treatise on the same subject in a London paper. Hehad a plan for the use of inclined planes in changing the level ofthe water for boats on canals, in place of locks, after the mannerof the Chinese, claiming that greater elevations could be overcomein this manner; but it was never adopted. 

In 1797 Fulton went to Paris, where he resided seven years, as theterrors of the French Revolution were passing away. At this periodhe had invented what is now called a torpedo, largely used in modernwarfare for the protection of harbors. He devised a submarine boatto operate these destructive weapons, which was not a success. Hedemonstrated what he claimed for the torpedo in the destruction of abrig of two hundred tons; but he failed to procure the adoption ofthis more modern engine of warfare by either France or England, andhe had the honor to be snubbed by Napoleon I. In 1806 he returned toNew York, where he labored for the recognition and introduction ofthe torpedo. He was encouraged by Jefferson and Madison, andCongress appropriated money for experiments; but the naval officersreported against him, and nothing came of his efforts. 

In Paris he had made the acquaintance of Chancellor Livingston, thenthe American minister to France, who was interested in Fulton'swork, and who soon entered into business relations with him inconnection with it. He was a man of abundant fortune, while theinventor was comparatively poor; occupied an elevated socialposition, and was a person of great influence. He obtained a grantof the monopoly of steam-navigation from the State of New York. Fulton took out two patents for his invention; but unfortunatelythey were not adequate to his protection, for they covered only theapplication of the steam-engine to the turning of a crank inproducing the rotary motion of the paddle-wheels. 

While in England Fulton had contracted with Watt for the building ofsuch an engine as he desired, without stating the purpose for whichit was to be used. This engine reached New York at about the sametime as the inventor. He made his plans for the construction of theboat, which was to be of different form and proportions fromordinary vessels, and it was completed and fitted out with itsengine during the year following his return. Not long before thisevent, when he found the sum of money Mr. Livingston had provided tocomplete the steamboat was nearly exhausted, Fulton attempted tosell an interest in his exclusive grant in order to raise funds tosupply the deficiency; but so little faith existed in the success ofhis enterprise that he could find no one who had the courage topurchase it. But the vessel was finished, and a trial trip was madein her, to which gentlemen of science and general intelligence wereinvited, most of them, like the rest of the world, sceptics andunbelievers. A few minutes served to satisfy these men that thesteamboat was a success, and that the problem of steam-navigationhad been solved in its favor. It was the hour of Fulton's triumph. 

The strange craft, to which the name of Clermont had been given, soon made a trip to Albany, accomplishing the distance in thirty-twohours, or one-third of the average time of the sloops, and makingthe return in thirty. Doubters and cavillers were silenced, andregular trips were made till the ice closed the river for theseason. During the winter the Clermont was lengthened to one hundredand forty feet, improved in many respects, gaudily painted, andlooked upon as a "floating palace. " Another steamboat, called theCar of Neptune, was built, and soon a contract for five more wasplaced. The practical triumph had been achieved, and from that smallbeginning has come forth the mighty steam-marine of the presenttime. 

Fulton was married to Miss Harriet Livingston, a niece of theChancellor, and was the father of four children. His businessaffairs were in anything but a prosperous condition. The State ofNew Jersey contested his monopoly, which proved to have beenunconstitutionally granted. Fitch, or his successors, who had madesome successes in the same line, endeavored to supplant him, and hispatents were worthless. He was embarrassed by constant litigation, and his last years were full of trials and anxiety. He died February24, 1815, at the age of fifty. 

[Signature: William S. Adams. ]

WILLIAM WILBERFORCE

(1759-1833)

[Illustration: William Wilberforce. ]

William Wilberforce, whose name a heartfelt, enlightened, andunwearied philanthropy, directing talents of the highest order, hasenrolled among those of the most illustrious benefactors of mankind, was born August 24, 1759, in Hull, England, where his ancestors hadbeen long and successfully engaged in trade. By his father's death hewas left an orphan at an early age. He received the chief part of hiseducation at the grammar school of Pockington, in Yorkshire, and atSt. John's College, Cambridge, of which he became a fellow-commonerabout 1776 or 1777. When just of age, and apparently before taking hisB. A. Degree, he was returned for his native town at the generalelection of 1780. In 1784 he was returned again, but being also chosenmember for Yorkshire he elected to sit for that great county, which hecontinued to represent until the year 1812, during six successiveParliaments. From 1812 to 1825, when he retired from Parliament, hewas returned by Lord Calthorpe for the borough of Bramber. Hispolitics were in general those of Mr. Pitt's party, and his firstprominent appearance was in 1783, in opposition to Mr. Fox's IndiaBill. In 1786 he introduced and carried through the Commons a bill forthe amendment of the criminal code, which was roughly handled by theLord Chancellor, Thurlow, and rejected in the House of Lords without adivision. 

At the time when Mr. Wilberforce was rising into manhood, theinquiry into the slave trade had engaged in a slight degree theattention of the public. To the Quakers belongs the high honor ofhaving taken the lead in denouncing that unjust and unchristiantraffic. At the beginning of the eighteenth century, during the lifeof Penn, the Quakers of Pennsylvania passed a censure upon it, andfrom time to time the Society of Friends expressed theirdisapprobation of the deportation of negroes, until, in 1761, theycompleted their good work by a resolution to disown all such ascontinued to be engaged in it. Occasionally the question was broughtbefore magistrates, whether a slave became entitled to his libertyupon landing in England. In 1765 Granville Sharp came forward as theprotector of a negro, who, having been abandoned and cast upon theworld in disease and misery by his owner, was healed and assistedthrough the charity of Mr. Sharp's brother. Recovering his valuewith his health, he was claimed and seized by his master, and wouldhave been shipped to the colonies, as many Africans were, but forthe prompt and resolute interference of Mr. Sharp. In severalsimilar cases the same gentleman came forward successfully; but thegeneral question was not determined, or even argued, until 1772, when the celebrated case of the negro Somerset was brought beforethe Court of King's Bench, which adjudged, after a deliberatehearing, that in England the right of the master over the slavecould not be maintained. The general question was afterward, in1778, decided still more absolutely by the Scotch Courts, in thecase of Wedderburn _vs. _ Knight. In 1783 an event occurred wellqualified to rouse the feelings of the nation, and call itsattention to the atrocities of which the slave trade was the causeand pretext. An action was brought by certain underwriters againstthe owners of the ship Zong, on the ground that the captain hadcaused 132 weak, sickly slaves to be thrown overboard for thepurpose of claiming their value, for which the plaintiffs would nothave been liable if the cargo had died a natural death. The fact ofthe drowning was admitted, and defended on the plea that want ofwater had rendered it necessary, though it appeared that the crewhad not been put upon short allowance. It now seems incredible thatno criminal proceeding should have been instituted against theperpetrators of this wholesale murder. 

In 1785 the Vice-chancellor of Cambridge proposed as the subject forthe Bachelor's Prize Essay, the question, Is it allowable to enslavemen without their consent? Thomas Clarkson, who had gained the prizein the preceding year, again became a candidate. Conceiving that thethesis, though couched in general terms, had an especial referenceto the African slave trade, he went to London to make inquiries onthe subject. Investigation brought under his view a mass ofcruelties and abominations which engrossed his thoughts and shockedhis imagination. By night and day they haunted him; and he hasdescribed in lively colors the intense pain which this composition, undertaken solely in the spirit of honorable rivalry, inflicted onhim. He gained the prize, but found it impossible to discard thesubject from his thoughts. In the succeeding autumn, after greatstruggles of mind, he resolved to give up his plan for entering theChurch, and devoted time, health, and substance (to use his ownwords) to "seeing these calamities to an end. " In sketching theprogress of this great measure, the name of Wilberforce alone willbe presented to view; and it is our duty, therefore, in the firstplace, to make honorable mention of him who first roused Wilberforcein the cause, and whose athletic vigor and indomitable perseverancesurmounted danger, difficulties, fatigues, and discouragements whichfew men could have endured, in the first great object of collectingevidence of the cruelties habitually perpetrated in the slave trade. 

In the first stage of his proceedings, Mr. Clarkson, in the courseof his application to members of Parliament, called on Mr. Wilberforce, who stated that "the subject had often employed histhoughts and was near his heart. " He inquired into the authoritiesfor the statements laid before him, and became not only convincedof, but impressed with, the paramount duty of abolishing so hatefula traffic. Occasional meetings of those who were alike interestedwere held at his house; and in May, 1787, a committee was formed, ofwhich Wilberforce became the Parliamentary leader. Early in 1788 hegave notice of his intention to bring the subject before the House;but, owing to his severe indisposition, that task was ultimatelyundertaken by Mr. Pitt, who moved and carried a resolution, pledgingthe House in the ensuing session to enter on the consideration ofthe subject. Accordingly, May 12, 1789, Mr. Wilberforce moved aseries of resolutions, founded on a report of the Privy Council, exposing the iniquity and cruelty of the traffic in slaves, themortality which it occasioned among white as well as black men, andthe neglect of health and morals by which the natural increase ofthe race in the West India islands was checked; and concluding witha declaration that if the causes by which that increase was checkedwere removed, no considerable inconvenience would result fromdiscontinuing the importation of African slaves. Burke, Pitt, andFox supported the resolutions. Mr. Wilberforce's speech wasdistinguished by eloquence and earnestness, and by its unanswerableappeals to the first principles of justice and religion. Theconsideration of the subject was ultimately adjourned to thefollowing session. In that, and in two subsequent sessions, themotions were renewed; and the effect of pressing such a subject uponthe attention of the country was to open the eyes of many who wouldwillingly have kept them closed, yet could not deny the existence ofthe evils so forced on their view. In 1792 Mr. Wilberforce's motionfor the abolition of the slave trade was met by a proposal to insertin it the word "gradually;" and, in pursuance of the same policy, Mr. Dundas introduced a bill to provide for its discontinuance in1800. The date was altered to 1796, and in that state the billpassed the Commons, but was stopped in the Upper House by a proposalto hear evidence upon it. Mr. Wilberforce annually renewed hisefforts, and brought every new argument to bear upon the questionwhich new discoveries, or the events of the times, produced. In 1799the friends of the measure resolved on letting it repose for awhile, and for five years Mr. Wilberforce contented himself with moving forcertain papers; but he took an opportunity of assuring the Housethat he had not grown cool in the cause, and that he would renew thediscussion in a future session. On May 30, 1804, he once more movedfor leave to bring in his bill for the abolition of the slave trade, in a speech of great eloquence and effect. He took the opportunityof making a powerful appeal to the Irish members, before whom, inconsequence of the Union, this question was now for the first timebrought, and the greater part of whom supported it. The decisionshowed a majority of 124 to 49 in his favor; and the bill wascarried through the Commons, but was again postponed in the House ofLords. In 1805 he renewed his motion; but on this occasion it waslost in the Commons by over-security among the friends of themeasure. But when Mr. Fox and Lord Granville took office in 1806, the abolition was brought forward by the ministers, most of whomsupported it, though it was not made a government question inconsequence of several members of the cabinet opposing it. Theattorney-general (Sir A. Pigott) brought in a bill, which was passedinto a law, prohibiting the slave trade in the conquered colonies, and excluding British subjects from engaging in the foreign slavetrade; and Mr. Fox at Mr. Wilberforce's special request, introduceda resolution pledging the House to take the earliest measures foreffectually abolishing the whole slave trade. This resolution wascarried by a majority of 114 to 15; and January 2, 1807, LordGranville brought forward, in the House of Lords, a bill for theabolition of the slave trade, which passed safely through bothHouses of Parliament. As, however, the king was believed to beunfriendly to the measure, some alarm was felt by its friends, lestits fate might still be affected by the dismissal of the ministers, which had been determined upon. Those fears were groundless; forthough they received orders to deliver up the seals of their officeson March 25th, the royal assent was given by commission by the LordChancellor Erskine on the same day; and thus the last act of theadministration was to conclude a contest, maintained by prejudiceand interest during twenty years, for the support of what Mr. Pittdenominated "the greatest practical evil that ever afflicted thehuman race. "

Among other testimonies to Mr. Wilberforce's merits, we are notinclined to omit that of Sir James Mackintosh, who in his journal, May 23, 1808, speaks thus of Wilberforce on the "Abolition. " Thisrefers to a pamphlet on the slave trade which Mr. Wilberforce hadpublished in 1806: "Almost as much enchanted by Mr. Wilberforce'sbook as by his conduct. He is the very model of a reformer. Ardentwithout turbulence, mild without timidity or coolness; neitheryielding to difficulties nor disturbed or exasperated by them;patient and meek yet intrepid; persisting for twenty years throughgood report and evil report; just and charitable even to his mostmalignant enemies; unwearied in every experiment to disarm theprejudices of his more rational and disinterested opponents, andsupporting the zeal, without dangerously exciting the passions ofhis adherents. "

The rest of Mr. Wilberforce's parliamentary conduct was consistentwith his behavior on this question. In debates chiefly political herarely took a forward part; but where religion and morals weredirectly concerned, points on which few cared to interfere, andwhere a leader was wanted, he never shrunk from the advocacy of hisopinions. He was a supporter of Catholic emancipation andparliamentary reform; he condemned the encouragement of gambling, inthe shape of lotteries established by government; he insisted on thecruelty of employing boys of tender age as chimney-sweepers; heattempted to procure a legislative enactment against duelling, afterthe hostile meeting between Pitt and Tierney; and on the renewal ofthe East India Company's charter in 1816, he gave his zealoussupport to the propagation of Christianity in Hindostan, inopposition to those who, as has been more recently done in the WestIndies, represented the employment of missionaries to beinconsistent with the preservation of the British empire. It isencouraging to observe that, with the exception of the one levelledagainst duelling, all these measures, however violently opposed andunfairly censured, have been carried in a more or less perfect form. 

As an author, Mr. Wilberforce's claim to notice is chiefly derivedfrom his treatise entitled "A Practical View of the PrevailingReligious System of Professing Christians in the Higher and MiddleClasses in this Country, Contrasted with Real Christianity. " Theobject of it was to show that the standard of life generally adoptedby those classes not only fell short of, but was inconsistent with, the doctrines of the gospel. It has justly been applauded as a workof no common courage, not from the asperity of its censures, for itbreathes throughout a spirit of gentleness and love, but on thejoint consideration of the unpopularity of the subject and thewriter's position. The Bishop of Calcutta, in his introductoryessay, justly observes that "the author, in attempting it, riskedeverything dear to a public man and a politician as such, consideration, weight, ambition, reputation. " And Scott, the divine, one of the most fearless and ardent of men, viewed the matter in thesame light; for he wrote: "Taken in all its probable effects, I dosincerely think such a stand for vital Christianity has not beenmade in my memory. He has come out beyond my expectations. " Of awork so generally known we shall not describe the tendency more atlarge. It is said to have gone through about twenty editions inBritain, since the publication in 1797, and more in America; and tohave been translated into most European languages. 

In the discharge of his parliamentary duties, Mr. Wilberforce waspunctual and active beyond his apparent strength; and those whofurther recollect his diligent attendance on a vast variety ofpublic meetings and committees connected with religious andcharitable purposes, will wonder how a frame naturally weak shouldso long have endured the wear of such exertion. In 1788, when hisillness was a matter of deep concern to the Abolitionists, Dr. Warren said that he had not stamina to last a fortnight. No doubthis bodily powers were greatly aided by the placid and happy frameof mind which he habitually enjoyed; but it is important to relatehis own opinion, as delivered by an ear-witness, on the physicalbenefits which he derived from a strict abstinence from temporalaffairs on Sundays: "I have often heard him assert that he nevercould have sustained the labor and stretch of mind required in hisearly political life, if it had not been for the rest of hisSabbath; and that he could name several of his contemporaries in thevortex of political cares, whose minds had actually given way underthe stress of intellectual labor so as to bring on a premature deathor the still more dreadful catastrophe of insanity and suicide, who, humanly speaking, might have been preserved in health, if they wouldbut conscientiously have observed the Sabbath. "

In 1797 Mr. Wilberforce married Miss Spooner, daughter of an eminentbanker at Birmingham. Four sons survived him. He died, after agradual decline, July 29, 1833, in Cadogan Place. He directed thathis funeral should be conducted without the smallest pomp; but hisorders were disregarded, in compliance with a memorial addressed tohis relatives by many of the most distinguished men of all parties, and couched in the following terms: "We, the undersigned Members ofboth Houses of Parliament, being anxious, upon public grounds, toshow our respect for the memory of the late William Wilberforce, andbeing also satisfied that public honors can never be more fitlybestowed than upon such benefactors of mankind, earnestly requestthat he may be buried in Westminster Abbey, and that we and otherswho may agree with us in these sentiments may have permission toattend his funeral. " The attendance of both Houses was numerous. Mr. Wilberforce was interred within a few yards of his greatcontemporaries, Pitt, Fox, and Canning. 

SIR HUMPHRY DAVY

By JOHN TIMBS, F. S. A. 

(1778-1829)

[Illustration: Sir Humphry Davy. ]

The boyhood of Davy has been sketched in some of the mostfascinating pieces of biography ever written: the annals of sciencedo not furnish us with any record that equals the school-days andself-education of the boy, Humphry, in popular interest; and, unlikemany bright mornings, this commencement in a few years led to abrilliant meridian, and, by a succession of discoveries, accomplished more in relation to change of theory and extension ofscience, than in the most ardent and ambitious moments of youth hecould either hope to effect or imagine possible. 

Humphry Davy was born at Penzance, in 1778; was a healthy, strong, and active child, and could speak fluently before he was two yearsold; copied engravings before he learned to write, and could recitepart of the "Pilgrim's Progress" before he could well read it. Atthe age of five years, he could gain a good account of the contentsof a book while turning over the leaves; and he retained thisremarkable faculty through life. He excelled in telling stories tohis playmates; loved fishing, and collecting, and painting birds andfishes; he had his own little garden; and recorded his impressionsof romantic scenery in verse of no ordinary merit. To hisself-education, however, he owed almost everything. He studied withintensity mathematics, metaphysics, and physiology; before he wasnineteen he began to study chemistry, and in four months proposed anew hypothesis on heat and light, to which he won over theexperienced Dr. Beddoes. With his associate, Gregory Watt (son ofthe celebrated James Watt) he collected specimens of rocks andminerals. He made considerable progress in medicine; he experimentedzealously, especially on the effects of the gases in respiration; atthe age of twenty-one he had breathed nitrous oxide, and nearly losthis life from breathing carburetted hydrogen. Next year he commencedthe galvanic experiments which led to some of his greatestdiscoveries. In 1802 he began his brilliant scientific career at theRoyal Institution, where he remained till 1812; here he constructedhis great voltaic battery of 2, 000 double plates of copper and zinc, and commenced the mineralogical collection now in the Museum. Hislectures were often attended by one thousand persons: his youth, hissimplicity, his natural eloquence, his chemical knowledge, his happyillustrations and well-conducted experiments, and the auspiciousstate of science, insured Davy great and instant success. 

The enthusiastic admiration with which he was hailed can hardly beimagined now. Not only men of the highest rank--men of science, men ofletters, and men of trade--but women of fashion and blue-stockings, old and young, pressed into the theatre of the Institution to coverhim with applause. His greatest labors were his discovery of thedecomposition of the fixed alkalies, and the re-establishment of thesimple nature of chlorine; his other researches were the investigationof astringent vegetables in connection with the art of tanning; theanalysis of rocks and minerals in connection with geology; thecomprehensive subject of agricultural chemistry; and galvanism andelectro-chemical science. He was also an early, but unsuccessful, experimenter in the photographic art. 

Of the lazy conservative spirit and ludicrous indolence in science, which at this time attempted to hoodwink the public, a quaintinstance is recorded of a worthy professor of chemistry at Aberdeen. He had allowed some years to pass since Davy's brilliant discoveryof potassium and its congeneric metals, without a word about them inhis lectures. At length the learned doctor was concussed by hiscolleagues on the subject, and he condescended to notice it. "Bothpotash and soda are now said to be metallic oxides, " said he; "theoxides, in fact, of two metals, called potassium and sodium by thediscoverer of them, one Davy, in London, a verra troublesome personin chemistry. "

Turn we, however, to the brightest event in our chemicalphilosopher's career. By his unrivalled series of practicaldiscoveries, Davy acquired such a reputation for success among hiscountrymen, that his aid was invoked on every great occasion. Theproperties of fire-damp, or carburetted hydrogen, in coal-mines hadalready been ascertained by Dr. Henry. When this gas is mingled incertain proportions with atmospheric air, it forms a mixture whichkindles upon the contact of a lighted candle, and often explodeswith tremendous violence, killing the men and horses, and projectingmuch of the contents of the mine through the shafts or apertureslike an enormous piece of artillery. At this time, a detonation offire-damp occurred within a coal-mine in the north of England, sodreadful that it destroyed more than a hundred miners. A committeeof the proprietors besought our chemist to provide a method ofpreparing for such tremendous visitations; and he did it. He tellsus that he first turned his attention particularly to the subject in1815; but he must have been prepared for it by the researches of hisearly years. Still, there appeared little hope of finding anefficacious remedy. The resources of modern mechanical science hadbeen fully applied in ventilation. The comparative lightness offire-damp was well understood; every precaution was taken topreserve the communications open; and the currents of air werepromoted or occasioned, not only by furnaces, but likewise byair-pumps and steam apparatus. We may here mention that, for givinglight to the coal-miner or pitman, where the fire-damp wasapprehended, the primitive contrivance was a steel-mill, the lightof which was produced by contact of a flint with the edge of a wheelkept in rapid motion. A "safety-lamp" had already, in 1813, beenconstructed by Dr. Clanny, the principle of which was forcing in airthrough water by bellows; but the machine was ponderous andcomplicated, and required a boy to work it. M. Humboldt hadpreviously, in 1796, constructed a lamp for mines upon the sameprinciple as that of Dr. Clanny. 

Davy, having conceived that flame and explosion may be regulated andarrested, began a minute chemical examination of fire-damp. He foundthat carburetted-hydrogen gas, even when mixed with fourteen timesits bulk of atmospheric air, was still explosive. He ascertainedthat explosions of inflammable gases were incapable of being passedthrough long, narrow metallic tubes; and that this principle ofsecurity was still obtained by diminishing their length and diameterat the same time, and likewise diminishing their length andincreasing their number, so that a great number of small apertureswould not pass explosion when their depth was equal to theirdiameter. This fact led to trials upon sieves of wire-gauze; hefound that if a piece of wire-gauze was held over the flame of alamp, or coal-gas, it prevented the flame from passing; and heascertained that a flame confined in a cylinder of very finewire-gauze did not explode even in a mixture of oxygen and hydrogen, but that the gases burned in it with great vivacity. Theseexperiments served as the basis of the safety-lamp. 

Sir Humphry Davy presented his first communication respecting hisdiscovery of the safety-lamp to the Royal Society in 1815. This wasfollowed by a series of papers, crowned by that read on January 11, 1816, when the principle of the safety-lamp was announced, and SirHumphry presented to the society a model made by his own hands, which is to this day preserved in the collection of the RoyalSociety at Burlington House. 

There have been several modifications of the safety-lamp, and themerit of the discovery has been claimed by others, among whom wasMr. George Stephenson; but the question was set at rest in 1817 byan examination, attested by Sir Joseph Banks, P. R. S. , Mr. Brande, Mr. Hatchett, and Dr. Wollaston, and awarding the independent meritto Davy. 

It should be explained that Stephenson's lamp was formed on theprinciple of admitting the fire-damp by narrow tubes, and "in suchsmall detached portions that it would be consumed by combustion. "The two lamps were doubtless distinct inventions; though Davy, inall justice, appears to be entitled to precedence, not only in pointof date, but as regards the long chain of inductive reasoningconcerning the nature of flame by which his result was arrived at. 

Meanwhile, the Report by the Parliamentary Committee "cannot admitthat the experiments (made with the lamp) have any tendency todetract from the character of Sir Humphry Davy, or to disparage thefair value placed by himself upon his invention. The improvementsare probably those which longer life and additional facts would haveinduced him to contemplate as desirable, and of which, had he notbeen the inventor, he might have become the patron. "

"I value it, " Davy used to say, with the kindliest exultation, "morethan anything I ever did; it was the result of a great deal ofinvestigation and labor; but if my directions be attended to, itwill save the lives of thousands of poor men. "

The principle of the invention may be thus summed up: In thesafety-lamp, the mixture of the fire-damp and atmospheric air withinthe cage of wire-gauze explodes upon coming in contact with theflame; but the combustion cannot pass through the wire-gauze; andbeing there imprisoned, cannot impart to the explosive atmosphere ofthe mine any of its force. This effect has been attributed to thecooling influence of the metal; but, since the wires may be broughtto a degree of heat but little below redness without igniting thefire-damp, this does not appear to be the cause. 

Professor Playfair has elegantly characterized the safety-lamp ofDavy as a present from philosophy to the arts, a discovery in nodegree the effect of accident or chance, but the result of patientand enlightened research, and strongly exemplifying the great use ofan immediate and constant appeal to experiment. After characterizingthe invention as the _shutting-up in a net of the most slendertexture_ of a most violent and irresistible force, and a power thatin its tremendous effects seems to emulate the lightning and theearthquake, Professor Playfair thus concludes: "When to this we addthe beneficial consequences, and the saving of the lives of men, andconsider that the effects are to remain as long as coal continues tobe dug from the bowels of the earth, it may be fairly said thatthere is hardly in the whole compass of art or science a singleinvention of which one would rather wish to be the author. . . . This, "says Professor Playfair, "is exactly such a case as we should chooseto place before Bacon, were he to revisit the earth; in order togive him, in a small compass, an idea of the advancement whichphilosophy has made since the time when he had pointed out to herthe route which she ought to pursue. "

Honors were showered upon Davy. He received from the Royal Societythe Copley, Royal, and Rumford Medals, and several times deliveredthe Bakerian Lecture. He also received Napoleon's prize for theadvancement of galvanic researches from the French Institute. Theinvention of the safety-lamp brought him the public gratitude of theunited colliers of Whitehaven, of the coal proprietors of the northof England, of the grand jury of Durham, of the Chamber of Commerceat Mons, of the coal-miners of Flanders, and, above all, of thecoal-owners of the Wear and the Tyne, who presented him (it was hisown choice) with a dinner-service of silver worth £2, 500. On thesame occasion, Alexander, the Emperor of all the Russias, sent him avase, with a letter of commendation. In 1817, he was elected to thedignity of an associate of the Institute of France; next year, atthe age of forty, he was created a baronet. 

Davy's discoveries form a remarkable epoch in the history of theRoyal Society during the early part of this century; and from 1821to 1829 almost every volume of the _Transactions_ contains acommunication by him. He was president of the Royal Society from1820 to 1827. 

Fond of travel, geology, and sport, Davy visited, for the purpose ofmineralogy and angling, almost every county of England and Wales. Hewas provided with a portable laboratory, that he might experimentwhen he chose, as well as fish and shoot. In 1827, upon resigningthe presidency of the Royal Society, he retired to the continent; in1829, at Geneva, his palsy-stricken body returned to the dust. Theyburied him at Geneva, where a simple monument stands at the head ofthe hospitable grave. There is a tablet to his memory in WestminsterAbbey; there is a monument at Penzance; and his widow founded amemorial chemical prize in the University of Geneva. His publicservices of plate, his imperial vases, his foreign prizes, his royalmedals, shall be handed down with triumph to his collateralposterity as trophies won from the depths of nescience; but hiswork, designed by his own genius, executed by his own hand, traceryand all, and every single stone signalized by his own private mark, indelible, characteristic, and inimitable--his work is the onlyrecord of his name. How deeply are its foundations rooted in space, and how lasting its materials for time!

GENERAL SAN MARTIN[9]

 [Footnote 9: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH

(1778-1850)

 "Seras lo que debes ser, Y sino, no seras nada. " SAN MARTIN. 

San Martin, the ideal liberator of South America from the long andtyrannical rule of Spanish viceroys, was one of the most remarkablemen of his own or of any age. From a moral point of view he standsin the first rank of the world's heroes. "He was not a man, " said astudent of South American history, "he was a mission. " Cincinnatus, after serving the state, returned to the plough, and Washington tothe retirement of Mt. Vernon; but San Martin for the peace of hiscountry went into voluntary exile. His country crowned him dead andmade for his dead body a tomb of Peace, surrounded by the marbleangels of the arts of human progress, more beautiful in its meaningthan any tomb on the Appian Way, and one of the most wonderfulmemorials on earth. 

The Battle of Maipú, of which San Martin was the victor, completedthe emancipation of South America, and made the achievements ofBolivar easy in the Northern Andes. Said the hero of Maipú--and whatwords of man under the circumstances ever equalled the declarationin moral sublimity!--

"The presence of a fortunate general, however disinterested he maybe, is dangerous to a newly founded state. I have achieved theindependence of Peru: I have ceased to be a public man!" He died atBoulogne, France, in poverty, after nearly thirty years of exiledand fameless life. His career seems like that of some hero offiction, such as the imagination of a Plato, a Bacon, or a SirThomas More might create for an Utopia. He is the one perfectlyunselfish man in history, and his fame has grown steadily in SpanishAmerica, since Argentina built a tomb-palace for his remains, anddecreed for him one of the most splendid funerals ever known to theWestern World. 

General Don Joachim de la Pezuela, the last Spanish ruler of Peru, was the forty-fourth viceroy from Pizarro. "The Indians, " he said, "love the memory of the Incas--the country is ready to rise. " Thebanner of Argentina was putting to flight the condors of the Andes, and the last viceroy saw in its advance the end of Spain in the NewWorld. 

The Argentine hero who had created the army of the Andes foruniversal liberty was San Martin. He was born on February 25, 1778, at Yapeyu, in Misiones. His father was a South American officerunder the last rule of the viceroys. The family removed to Spain inhis boyhood, and he became for two years a pupil in the Seminary ofNobles, at Madrid. At the age of twelve he became a cadet, wearing auniform of blue and white, which he made in manhood the colors ofSouth American emancipation. 

He fought in the war against the Moors, and in the campaign againstFrance, in 1793. In 1800 he took part in the so-called "War of theOranges against Portugal. "

In the early part of the nineteenth century there began to be formedin Spain secret societies for the purpose of advancing the cause ofliberty and human progress. One of these associations, called_Caballeros Racionales_, became very influential, and correspondedwith the society of the Grand Reunion of America (_Gran ReunionAmericana_) of London. This society was pledged "to recognize nogovernment in America as legitimate unless it was elected by thefree will of the people. " San Martin joined this society. The Londonsociety was established by Miranda, the Spanish patriot, a friend ofBolivar, by whose inspirations San Martin became a disciple ofliberty, and whose dreams he fulfilled long after the patriot wasdead. 

San Martin won honors and a medal in the Spanish resistance to thevictorious eagles of Napoleon. In that campaign he fought under abanner of the Sun, having this motto in Latin: "We bear this aloftdispersing the clouds. " He made this banner the flag of the army ofthe Andes. 

In 1812, San Martin, as a disciple of the principles of the Spanishapostle of liberty, Miranda, returned to South America, and in Marchwent to Buenos Ayres, and offered his sword to the Argentinepatriots for the cause of independence. The country was inrevolution against the Spanish rule. San Martin was not only anAmerican, but a Creole; he was unselfish, truthful, the soul ofhonor, and of all men in the world the one that would seem bestfitted to lead the cause of the South American patriots. He wasdestined to become "the greatest of the Creoles of the New World. "

Soon after the arrival of San Martin in Buenos Ayres he married DoñaRemedios Esculada, and Mercedes, a daughter of this marriage, sharedwith him his voluntary exile after the conquest of Peru. 

Appointed at once to a high military position under the ArgentineGovernment, he conceived the plan of creating an army of the Andes, of crossing the Cordillera, and of driving the Spaniards from Chile. 

Mendoza, with which Buenos Ayres is now connected by railroad, lieson an elevation under the snowy Cordilleras. San Martin made hismilitary camp here. On January 17, 1817, he began his march up theAndes, one of the most perilous achievements of modern warfare. Thesummit of the Uspallata Pass, over which the army was to climb, is12, 500 feet above the level of the sea, or 4, 000 feet higher thanthe Pass of St. Bernard. 

The 17th, on which the army set forth, was a high holiday inMendoza. The plaza was gay with banners, and the streets withpatriotic decorations. The ladies of the city presented anembroidered flag to San Martin. The general, above whose headgleamed the snowy heights of the Andes, ascended a platform in theplaza, and waved this flag over his head, and shouted:

"Soldiers, behold the first flag of independence!"

There arose a great shout of "Viva la Patria!"

"Soldiers, swear to sustain it. "

"We swear, " answered the army, as one man. 

Salvos of musketry and artillery followed. Mitre, in his "Life ofSan Martin, " as presented to us in the condensed translation ofPilling, eloquently says that this flag rose "for the redemption ofone-half of South America, passed the Cordilleras, waved in triumphalong the Pacific coast, floated over the foundations of two newrepublics, aided in the liberation of another, and after sixty-fouryears served as a funeral pall to the body of the hero, who thusdelivered it to the care of the immortal Army of the Andes. "

The mountains rose above the departing army, piercing the sky in thefading day. Up they climbed, putting to flight the condors. The mensuffered greatly from the rarefaction of the air. Even many of theanimals of the expedition perished. Out of 9, 261 mules, only 4, 300ever reached Chile. 

"What spoils my sleep, " said San Martin, on surveying the Andes atthe outset of the expedition, "is not the strength of the enemy, buthow to pass those immense mountains. " He might well say that, forbefore him gleamed peaks 21, 000 feet high. 

The army, with all its sufferings, triumphantly crossed the lowerpasses of the Cordilleras, and entered Chile. This march decided thefate of South America. 

The army encamped upon the Sierra of Chacubuco, from the summit ofwhich the whole of the magnificent country could be seen. Here rosethe flag of liberation. The flower of the Spanish army, inferior innumbers, was near. On February 12th a battle was fought, and theroyalists were defeated with a loss of 500 men killed, 600 takenprisoners, and all of their artillery. 

The way was now open to Santiago, the capital. The army entered thecity amid the acclamations of the people. The Chilian assembly metand offered San Martin the office of governor, with dictatorialpower. But San Martin was not fighting for power, or honor, but forthe liberties of his countrymen, and he nobly declined the office. 

The guns of Buenos Ayres roared, and the city was turned into afestival when the news of the triumph of the army of the Andesreached the coast. The Argentine Government offered to bestow on SanMartin its highest honors, but the latter declined them, lest hiswork should be retarded and his motives of life should bemisconstrued. It awarded to his daughter a life pension, which hedevoted to her education. 

Santiago offered to him 10, 000 ounces of gold. He refused thesplendid purse which he had so well won, but recommended that themoney be used for the cause of popular education in the form of apublic library. 

Chile and Argentina now formed an alliance in defence of theirliberties. 

But the royal army was gathering force and unity. On March 31st, itnumbered 5, 500 men, and was prepared to make a final stand againstthe army of liberation. 

There is a river in Chile which divides the country, named theMaipó, or Maipú. On its banks the royal army encamped on the firstdays of April, 1818. The patriot army was close at hand, and eacharmy felt that the battle to follow would decide the fate of themovement for the independence of the South American empire. 

It is April 5, 1818. The royal army is ready for action, and thepatriots occupy the heights of Loma Blanca, overlooking the plainsof the Maipú. 

"Do not await a charge to-day, " ordered San Martin; "_but charge_always within fifty paces!"

At the beginning of the action he said, "I take the sun to witness that the day is ours. "

Just then the sun, which had been clouded, shone from the heavens. 

The royal army was defeated. That night of May 5th covered theirflight, and the War of Independence was won. 

San Martin began now to plan the liberation of Peru, and to create anavy for the purpose of commanding the ports of the golden mountainsand rich plateaus of the incarial realms. 

In August, 1820, he had gathered a patriot force of 4, 500 men atValparaiso, and was ready to embark for the conquest by sea. Thearmy was composed of Argentines and Chilians. A former expeditionhad made the way of victory clear to the patriots. The fleet leftValparaiso August 21, 1820. The army landed in Peru and beganoperations near Lima. 

San Martin began his Chilian campaign by the liberation of theslaves, whom he afterward found trusty soldiers. He began thePeruvian war by issuing a most noble manifesto to his countrymen, inwhich he said: "Ever since I came back to my native land, theindependence of Peru has been present in my mind. "

And again he grandly announced his future policy in nearly thesewords: "From the time that a government is established by the peopleof Peru, the army of the Andes will obey its orders. "

The army of liberation was as successful in Peru as in Chile. Theempire of the viceroys crumbled and fell. Amid the roar of cannon, the shouts of the people, and strewing of flowers, the independenceof Peru was proclaimed on July 20, 1821, in the great square ofLima. San Martin, as in Chile, was offered the supreme authorityunder the title of the Protector of Peru. He made use of the officemerely for the pacification of the country. He convened the firstCongress in Peru, and to the new government he addressed the words, or words like those, that we have quoted at the beginning of thisarticle. He saw that Bolivar was the man to complete the liberationand bring about the unity of South America. The cause was all tohim: he was nothing. 

To Bolivar he wrote: "My decision is irrevocable. I have convenedthe first Congress of Peru. The day of its installation I shallleave for Chile, convinced that my presence is the only obstaclethat prevents you from coming to Peru. "

He sent to Bolivar a parting gift, saying, "Receive this mementofrom the first of your admirers, and with my desire that you havethe glory of finishing the war for the independence of SouthAmerica. "

The history of chivalry has no match for the character of SanMartin. Bolivar united patriotism and vanity; San Martin's glory wasself-abnegation. At a banquet where the two were present, Bolivaronce offered the following toast: "To the two greatest men in SouthAmerica--San Martin and _myself_. "

San Martin followed with his toast. "To the speedy end of the war;to the establishment of the republics, and to the health of theLiberator of Colombia!"

The two toasts were photographs. Time is lifting the character ofSan Martin into its true place among glorious men. He was a man whofought for peace. His life fulfilled his own motto: "Thou shalt bewhat thou oughtest to be, or else thou shalt be nothing. "

On critical occasions, his magnanimous soul rose to the sublimity ofthis motto, and to the end of his life of glory and poverty he wasalways able to say, "I have been what I ought!"

[Signature: Hezekiah Butterworth. ]

GEORGE STEPHENSON[10]

 [Footnote 10: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By Professor C. M. WOODWARD

(1781-1848)

[Illustration: Steam engine. ]

Far in the north of England, near the Scottish border, by the shoreof the German Ocean, is the county of brown and barren hills calledNorthumberland, and its principal city, Newcastle, famous for itscoal. There is another Newcastle near the centre of England, so thisone is often distinguished by the name "Newcastle-on-Tyne"--Tynebeing the blackest and dirtiest of all rivers. 

A few miles from Newcastle, up the Tyne, is the little miningvillage of Wylam, where, a hundred years ago, lived RobertStephenson and his wife Mabel. There was no style about Wylam, andfew evidences of wealth or culture. The houses straggled about nearthe outlets of the coal-mines, and everything was as uninviting asit well could be. Stephenson's house, or rather "shanty, " had butone room, and that had an earthen floor. Robert and Mabel were aboutas ill-furnished as their house; for neither could read, they hadnot a book nor a print, and neither knew much more of the world thancould be seen, as they stood on the bank of the Tyne and lookedabout on the neighboring hills and down toward Newcastle. In 1892 Irode down the valley of the Tyne, past Wylam, through Newcastle, andover the high bridge that our fireman's grandson, Robert, built inlater days. Few valleys are less attractive, and few seem lesslikely to be the birthplace of epoch-making men. 

Robert Stephenson, the father of our hero, was a fireman, earningtwo shillings a day. He was sober and industrious, but as would beexpected, he never "got on. " He was a good story-teller, andtransmitted to his children healthy bodies and clear heads. Georgewas the second of six children, and he was born June 9, 1781, duringour war for independence. His boyhood was uneventful enough. Whenthe weather was cold he was cooped up in their narrow home; he wasout of doors whenever the weather would permit. He played in thestreet, ran errands, carried his father's dinner, and herded cows, as soon as he was big enough, for four cents per day. At fourteen hewas assistant-fireman, earning twenty-five cents a day, and atseventeen he was "plugman. " He was thus in contact with much thathad been achieved in the way of building engines and transportingmaterials on cars. But I must describe the engines then in use, andexplain what it was to be a "plugman. "

The coal-mines were so deep that, in spite of the valleys, theycould be drained only by pumps, and it was often more difficult tokeep the water out than it was to lift the coal out. Thesteam-engine was then in a very incomplete condition, and bothpumping-and lifting-engines were crude and clumsy affairs. To besure Watt, the mathematical instrument-maker, had invented thedouble-acting steam-engine, but few had been manufactured, and thosein common use were "atmospheric" engines, known as "Newcomen's"engines. A pumping-engine had a long, vertical cylinder, witharrangements for admitting steam at the top. The weight of thepiston, piston-rod, and pump-rod, which ran down a shaft to thelowest point in the mine, being balanced by a counter-weight on asort of well-sweep, the steam, admitted by hand, forced the pistonto the bottom of the cylinder. The steam was then shut off, and aspray of water was turned on within the cylinder. This watercondensed the steam and reduced the pressure within to almostnothing, so that the air pressure on the exterior face of the piston(which amounted to over a ton for every square foot of surface)drove the piston to the top of the cylinder, and lifted the fulllength of the stroke a large quantity of water. 

It is evident that the office of engineer was not an easy one. Itwas all he could do to take care of the steam end of the pump;another man was needed to look after the lower end, where thepump-valve worked in another vertical cylinder. The water enteredthis cylinder through holes in the sides, some higher, some lower, according to the stage of water in the mine. The pumps did not runcontinuously, but they lowered the water to the bottom as often asit was necessary. As the level of the water in the mine fell, it wasnecessary to plug the upper holes in the pump cylinder; the man whowatched the lower end and plugged those holes was known as the"plugman. " It is difficult to conceive of a less inspiringoccupation than that to which George Stephenson was promoted at theage of seventeen. Alone in the dark, chilled by the damp air, andwet by the black water, he was forced, by lack of other occupation, to note every mechanical detail of the machinery, and to studymethods of improving it. 

At the age of eighteen he heard of some wonderful engines made byWatt & Boulton, at their new factory, and was told that the engineswere fully described and illustrated in books. So he determined tolearn to read. He was encouraged in this resolve by stories that aFrench soldier, by the name of Napoleon Bonaparte, was sweepingeverything before him on the continent of Europe, and that he wasplanning the subjugation of Great Britain. Information aboutNapoleon could be gained from printed newspapers if one could onlyread. 

But where should he learn? There was no public school in Wylam; noneof our hero's companions went to school; none of the people heassociated with could read or write. However, he found a teacher ina young man by the name of Robert Cowens, of whom he took threelessons per week in the evening. He earned money for books andinstruction by mending shoes and repairing clocks. He was handy withtools, and quick at seeing the relations of things. As soon as hecould read and write he learned to cipher, taking a slateful of"sums, " set by his teacher, to his work in the morning, to be "done"during odd moments while watching his pump or engine, for he wassoon advanced to the care of the steam end of the machine. 

While young Stephenson, now grown a man, is thus busy with hisprimer, his copy-book, and "four rules, " let us reflect upon theuncanny circumstances of his early life. He had no luxuries, fewreal comforts. The people around him lived half the time undergroundin mines that were dark, damp, and dangerous--in constant war withwater and a poisonous, explosive, natural gas, known as "fire-damp. "Above ground there was little that was attractive or educative. Theyoung men had their games, at which George was fairly successful, for he was strong and active. The ale-house stood near by, and itabsorbed most of the spare time and scant earnings of the miners;but it is said that young Stephenson avoided the saloon, and wasnever known to leave his work for a drink of liquor. On off days hetook his engine to pieces, examined its parts and the functions ofeach, and remedied small defects and devised improvements. Naturallyclear-headed and ingenious, every circumstance tended to develop hisexecutive powers. He soon was known in the Tyne valley as a goodengine-doctor. 

An incident, when he was about twenty years of age, did much toshape his career. He heard that a neighboring mine had been floodedon account of the inability of the engine to pump fast enough. Noengineer could make the engine efficient. One Sunday he went downand looked at it. After a thorough examination he said he could makeit work in a week's time if he could have authority to make changesas he saw fit. Authority was given him. In four days the engine wasrepaired and set to work. In spite of jeers from old engine-men, whowere jealous of a mere boy, the pump worked well and the mine wassoon dry. George's reputation was made, and he soon receivedappointment as engineer at a large mine at Killingworth, animportant place near by. 

Meanwhile Stephenson added exact instrumental drawing to his threeR's. He found, as every artisan finds, that exact drawing isnecessary not only to the study of existing mechanical devices, butparticularly to the successful design of new parts. The successfulinventor generally invents at his drawing-board. 

When twenty-one years of age Stephenson married Fanny Henderson, arespectable country girl living at Ballast Hill. He brought thebride home behind him on a pillion, a wedding journey of fifteenmiles. Robert Stephenson, who became his father's partner, and oneof the first of England's civil engineers, was born in 1803. In1812, when Stephenson was thirty-one years old, he was madeengine-wright of a large colliery at Killingworth, at a salary of$500. The position was one of profit and fine opportunity. All theengines and machinery were in his hands, and all the repair-andconstruction-shops were available for such new designs as he saw fitto make. He at once set about making his first locomotive. 

Locomotives and railroads of certain sorts and fashions were alreadyin existence, but they were rough and clumsy affairs. 

The rails were at first angle-irons, then flat bars of wrought iron, then cast-iron bars. In 1800 Benjamin Outram used stones forsleepers, and improved rails--hence "tramways. " Over these tramwayscars were drawn by horses, or by ropes from stationary engines. Murduck made a locomotive in 1784, and by 1812 several types ofengines were used for hauling coal-cars. Stephenson saw one ofBlenkinsop's engines. Gear-wheels connected the crank-shaft with theaxles, and the driving-wheels were geared with the track, while ofcourse, the coal-cars ran on different rails. 

This Blenkinsop's engine was a fearful machine. All the teethrattled, and as there were no springs and the road was very uneven, the shocks were heavy and frequent, even though its speed was onlyfour miles an hour. 

Stephenson's first engine, "My Lord, " in honor of his patron, LordRavensworth, was finished in 1814. Some experiments on the frictionof smooth wheels on iron rails led him to omit the teeth on thedrivers, though everyone laughed at him, declaring that the enginewould not run an "up grade, " much less draw a load. His faith, however, resisted all arguments; it was based on experiments andcareful calculations. Stephenson _knew_ that his engine would run uphill and draw a load, and it did so triumphantly. 

But the engine lacked steam. The boiler was small, and the fire wasapplied only on the exterior of the shell, and the draft was verypoor, for the chimney was of necessity short. Only very lowsteam-pressure was possible, and little or no expansion waspracticable. Consequently the exhaust was noisy and forcible. Stephenson turned it into the chimney and found that it increasedthe draft considerably; he at once thought that a steady jet ofsteam could be so directed as to make a strong draft even when theengine was not in motion. Thus the "blast" was invented, which aboutdoubled the capacity of the machine. 

Stephenson's second locomotive, built in 1815, had no noisy gears, but instead, chain-belts to the driving-axles. It had, however, nosprings, and the shocks were so great that only a low speed waspossible. In 1816 he built locomotives with springs, some of whichwere in use for hauling coals for forty years. 

Meanwhile Robert was growing into a manly, useful lad. Knowingsomething of the value of education, both of the head and of thehand, his father determined that Robert should have the best ofboth. He was sent to Edinburgh for scientific culture, and when athome his father taught him drawing, mechanical processes, and thetheory of machines as far as he was able--and his ability wasconsiderable, for George Stephenson was more of a student than manywhose early advantages were far better than his. The broad dualtraining given Robert appears to have been fully successful. Evenbefore he became a man he was of great value to his father. Togetherthey worked out plans for modifying and improving the locomotive andthe road it was to run upon. He could soon draw and calculate betterthan his father, but he never excelled him in the solution ofpractical problems which depended upon a knowledge of materials andthe simple laws of physics and mechanics. 

Thus far all railroads had been short, leading from mines to piersfor shipping by water. The success of Stephenson's locomotive, thebest working locomotive ever built at that time, led theproprietors of the Hetton Colliery, a few miles south of the Tynevalley, to propose a road, some eight miles long, over high hillsand on steep grades. Stephenson planned and superintended theconstruction of the road as their engineer. There were several steepinclines where loaded cars going down drew empty cars up. There weretwo heavy stationary engines drawing cars by a rope, and five ofStephenson's locomotives for the easy grades. Each locomotive drewseventeen wagons, weighing about sixty-four tons, at the rate offour miles per hour. This was the best done as yet, and wasconsidered a great success. It thoroughly established the reputationof George Stephenson as an engineer. This road was opened in 1822. 

Before the Hetton Railway was opened Stephenson was busy on a largerwork. Parliament had given a franchise for a railway in DurhamCounty, some twenty miles long, through Darlington to Stockton. Thefunction of the road was to carry coal to a shipping pier, and itwas not at all settled that horses would not be used to draw thecars. While not much was known about railways, and very little aboutlocomotives, there was a growing conviction that there was greateconomy in the use of tramways and the steam-engine, and theprospect brightened for building the road. 

The charming biographer, Smiles, tells how George Stephenson calledon Mr. Edward Pease, the president of the proposed railway, andoffered his services in building and equipping the road. Mr. Peasewas at once pleased with the man. "There was, " said he later, "suchan honest, sensible look about him, and he seemed so modest andunpretending. He spoke in the strong Northumbrian dialect, anddescribed himself as 'only the engine-wright at Killingworth. '"

Stephenson urged at once that the road be built for locomotives. Mr. Pease had never seen a locomotive at work, and had taken it forgranted that horses would be used; but he went up to Killingworthand rode on the "Blucher" with Stephenson, while it hauled a trainof loaded cars. Seeing was believing, and Mr. Pease was in favor ofboth Stephenson and his locomotive. 

So Stephenson was made chief engineer. He and his son Robertsurveyed the line, changed the location, avoiding certain territorywhere people were hostile to a road of any sort, and built new andimproved locomotives for the line. What we now call good tools werenot to be had, and skilled workmen were not easy to find, butStephenson made a great advance in the quality of the workmanship. 

The amended Act of Parliament gave the Stockton and Darlington linethe right to carry passengers in cars drawn by locomotives. This wasthe first instance of such a grant. Stephenson met Mr. Pease in1821; the road was opened to the public in 1825. People came incrowds to see the locomotives and to ride on the _first publicrailway_. There had been bitter opposition to the road and a vastamount of incredulity as to the ability of the locomotives to dopractical work. 

Imagine the excitement of the first ride. The train consisted of 6cars loaded with coal and other freight; then a short passengercoach filled with directors and friends; then 21 open cars orwagons fitted for excursionists; lastly came 6 more cars loaded withcoal--making 38 cars in all!

Mr. Stephenson was proud to be on the locomotive and to run ithimself. It seemed to spectators incredible that the locomotivecould start such a load, but it did start it, and it drew it 8-3/4miles in 65 minutes, the speed at times reaching 12 miles per hour!More cars were added at Darlington, and then the train drew on toStockton, all cars being crowded with passengers. 

The success was complete, and all doubts seemed to vanish. From thatday the traffic over the road continued without interruption. To thesurprise of all, the passenger business became a very importantitem, and better cars were quickly in demand. 

The road is in use to-day, and I had the pleasure last year ofriding over a part of it. Of course it now looks in all respectslike a modern English road, but I was deeply moved by the thoughtthat it was there that George Stephenson built his first publicrailway and achieved his first public triumph. 

Stephenson was not unmindful of the importance of that step. Hesaid, on that occasion, to some young men, "Now, lads, I will tellyou that I think you will live to see the day (though I may not liveso long), when railways will come to supersede almost all othermethods of conveyance--when mail coaches will go by railway. Thetime is coming when it will be cheaper for a working-man to ridethan to go on foot. " He lived to see all that himself, and far more. 

It is difficult for us to appreciate the popular surprise anddelight at that first railway excursion. We are so accustomed tosplendid engines, luxurious cars, and high speed, that we thinknothing of them; but when all were new--when coaches and carts onhighways were the sole reliance for passengers and freight--it wasastonishing indeed to see a "travelling engine, " in charge of twomen, draw a train of forty cars and six hundred people!

Many men would have been satisfied with the result, but Stephensonwas not. He said there was no limit to the speed but the strength ofthe machinery and the supply of steam. He saw there was no limit tothe load but the strength and weight of the locomotive, and no limitto the weight but the strength of the rails and the character of theroad-bed; thus he early saw how progress was to be made. 

But Stephenson's greatest triumph was yet to come. The Darlingtonroad was chiefly for coals, between small towns in a rough northerncounty. The vast majority of English people heard nothing, and knewnothing about it. Consequently when it was proposed to connect thegreat commercial city of Liverpool with the great manufacturing cityof Manchester, forty miles away, by a railway, it was taken forgranted that the cars were to be drawn by horses. Nevertheless atram-road was opposed, first, by the Duke of Bridgewater, who had acanal between the two cities; and, secondly, by those who owned thecoaches and the inns. Though proposed in 1821, the opposition was sogreat that it was laid over for several years. In 1824 a committeeof interested parties went to Darlington and Killingworth to seeStephenson's road and locomotives. The Darlington line was not yetin operation, but the old locomotives were at work at Killingworth. The committee decided that they must have a double track for cars, whatever might be the motive power. 

Accordingly Stephenson was invited to make surveys and estimates, ashe was said to be a man of great energy and the only man in Englandwith the necessary experience. 

The surveys were made in 1825 with the greatest difficulty, onaccount of the opposition of landowners. The surveyors were orderedoff the grounds, threatened with arrest and violence. Stephensontestified before a Parliamentary Committee that the duke's managerthreatened to have him thrown into the mill-pond if he trespassed. Stephenson kept on as good terms as he could with the hostiles, andsurveyed their grounds by stealth. 

The chief points of difficulty were a tunnel at Liverpool, and avast and treacherous morass known as "Chat Moss. "

Early in 1825, before the Darlington road was opened, Parliament wasconsidering the railway bill and Stephenson was called before thecommittee as a most important witness. All the opposition was out inforce and every means was used to ridicule the undertaking anddefeat the bill. 

The spectacle presented by plain, blunt, unlettered GeorgeStephenson before the lawyers and members of the House of Commonswas strange and interesting, and no wonder it has become historical. 

In the cross-examination, every effort was made to confuse anddiscredit the witness, but he bore himself remarkably well. He hadbuilt or superintended half a dozen short railways, and hadconstructed sixteen locomotives, and he could speak on the detailsof his plans with certainty and confidence. Two things embarrassedhim; the consciousness of awkwardness of manner and speech among mensome of whom were inclined to sneer at his northern dialect and lackof polish; secondly, the necessity of restraining himself in statingwhat his locomotives could do. He fully believed they could drawlong trains at the speed of twenty miles, but he was told by thefriends of the bill that if he made that claim before the committee, he would be called a madman, and the bill would be killed;accordingly he promised to hold himself down to ten miles per hour. 

The evidence brought in against the bill was remarkable, and to-dayit sounds strange enough. It was urged that the rails would bendunder the locomotive at high speed; that the engine would run offthe track on curves; that if the engine got round the curves thecars would go off; that the driving-wheels would "spin, " if theywent fast, without drawing the train; that the noise and sight ofthe train would frighten horses and cattle; that hens would not layand cows would cease to give milk along by the road; that the smokewould poison the air and blast the fields and parks; that the coachlines would be ruined, horses would no longer be of value, andcoach-makers, harness-makers, inn-keepers and others along the greatroads would have nothing to do, etc. , etc. In the face of ignorance, ridicule, contempt, and self-interest, Stephenson firmly maintainedthe safety of a good road, the stability of his engines and cars, the harmlessness of smoke and noise, and the facility with whichanimals became indifferent to trains. He said that at Killingworthcattle would not stop feeding as the trains went by. As to theeffect of speed, he boldly asserted that at twelve miles per hourthe load on a rail would be no more than at six, and in support ofhis position he appealed to skaters who go swiftly over thin ice. Asto the "spinning" of the wheels, he was positive that no such thingever had happened or could happen. The enemies of the bill caught athis suggestion of twelve miles per hour, and so pressed and led himon that he declared his honest conviction that his trains could runon such a road as he could make twelve miles per hour. This rashnessalarmed his friends, and they tried in vain to smooth it over bydeclaring such speed to be purely "hypothetical. "

In spite of all that could be said in its favor, in spite of thepressing need of better transportation for coal, cotton, merchandise, and passengers, the bill failed. Such was theblindness, and ignorance, and prejudice of the House of Commons!Think of calling George Stephenson "an ignoramus, a fool, a maniac, "in Parliament, yet such was done. 

The friends of the bill were not discouraged; they determined toapply again the next year; but poor Stephenson was discredited, Mr. George Rennie, the great bridge engineer, was employed to make a newsurvey, and Mr. Stephenson was not called before the committee. Meanwhile, the Darlington line was opened, and reports of itssuccess had reached London. It seemed to be admitted that the _road_was a good thing, but there was great scepticism in regard to thelocomotive. However, the bill passed in the spring of 1826, and thedirectors were not long in deciding that the only competent man tobuild the road was George Stephenson, and he was elected principalengineer at a salary of $5, 000. 

The building of the road seemed to be, and was at the time, atremendous undertaking. Bridges, viaducts, tunnels, and above all, Chat Moss, a yielding bog four miles across and of unknown depth, all taxed the engineer and the company to the utmost. The road wasfinished in 1830. With the exception of bridges and rails it wasvery much as it exists to-day. 

For a long time the directors were undecided as to the method ofpropelling the cars. Nearly every engineer except Stephenson wasopposed to the locomotive, or travelling engine. 

It seems incredible that Telford and the two Rennies, road-makersand bridge-builders, lacked faith in the locomotive, and preferredstationary engines and long cables. Their main objection to thelocomotive appears to have been based on the fact that the steamcapacity was small, and that it was impracticable to build alocomotive large enough to furnish all the steam that was needed. Stephenson insisted that already his locomotives were better thanstationary engines, and yet they could be greatly improved. He said, "Offer a generous prize for the best locomotive, and inventors andbuilders will greatly improve their machines, and we will have a farbetter locomotive than now. " He said he felt sure he could make amuch better one himself. By that time Stephenson was part owner innew locomotive works at Newcastle, and Robert was in general chargethere. 

The puzzled directors decided to adopt Stephenson's suggestion, andoffered $2, 500 as a prize for the best locomotive. The specificationsrequired:

1. The engine (without tender) must not weigh more than six tons. 

2. The ordinary steam pressure must not exceed 50 pounds above thatof the atmosphere. 

3. It must be well supplied with safety-valves and pressure-gauges. 

4. It must not exceed fifteen feet in height. 

5. It must rest on springs. 

6. It must be able (if weighing six tons) to draw twenty tonscontinuously ten miles per hour. 

7. It must not cost more than $2, 750. 

8. The boiler must stand a pressure, when tested, of 150 pounds persquare inch. 

9. It must be ready for trial October 1, 1829. 

The publication of these conditions and the offer of the prizeexcited great interest, and caused no small amount of comment. [11]The Stephensons at once began the construction of "The Rocket, "without doubt the most famous locomotive ever built. The improvedfeature it was to have was increased heating surface, so thatwithout increased weight it could generate more steam. This waseffected by putting fire-tubes through the water in the boiler. Boiler-tubes had already been used by different people, and some ofStephenson's locomotives which he had sent to France had been fittedwith tubes. At the suggestion of Mr. James Booth, Stephenson decidedto use a large number of tubes. Modern boilers have smaller tubesand more of them, but "The Rocket" was the first to typify themodern multitubular boiler. In other respects "The Rocket" was likeStephenson's other locomotives built ten or twelve years earlier. 

 [Footnote 11: It is said that a prominent man of Liverpool declared that "only a parcel of charlatans would ever have issued such a set of conditions; that it had been _proved_ to be impossible to make a locomotive go ten miles per hour. " He added that, "if it ever was done, he would eat a stewed engine-wheel for breakfast. "]

A brief description of "The Rocket" will not be out of place: Theboiler was 6 feet long, 3 feet 4 inches in diameter, and wasfurnished with 25 copper tubes 3 inches in diameter. The fire-boxwas at the rear end of the boiler, 2 feet wide and 3 feet high, surrounded by water. The cylinders were high on the sides, pointingdown to the forward wheels, which were the only drivers. Stephensonhad used coupling rods between two sets of "drivers, " but "TheRocket" was made for speed chiefly. Its weight when furnished withwater was only _four and a half tons_! On trial at Killingworth "TheRocket" worked finely and its capacity for steam was marvellous. Itwas sent by wagon to Carlisle and by boat to Liverpool. 

On the day set for the trial there were four engines on hand: 1. The"Novelty, " built by young Ericsson, who afterward in New York builtthe famous "Monitor. " 2. The "Sanspareil, " by Timothy Hackworth. 3. The "Perseverance, " by a Mr. Burstall. 4. "The Rocket, " byStephenson and Booth. 

The programme of test fixed by the judges was to run over a levelpiece of the road at Rainhill, two miles long, forty times during aday, at a rate not less than ten miles per hour. The train was toweigh three and one-third times as much as the locomotive. Eachengine was to have a day for trial. 

The "Perseverance" proved slow; its best speed was not more than sixmiles per hour; so it was quickly withdrawn. 

The "Sanspareil" was made by one of Stephenson's own foremen, anddiffered little from the Killingworth style of locomotive. It wasrather over weight, but it ran at times as fast as fourteen milesper hour. Its machinery was defective, however, and it was ruled outby the judges. 

The "Novelty" ran at times in good style, but its bellows, formaking a fire-blast, were defective and repeatedly gave out, causingdelay. It failed to make the required speed with a full load; byitself it is said to have run at the rate of twenty-eight miles perhour. Ericsson claimed that he had not had time to properlyconstruct his locomotive, and the claim was probably just. As itwas, the time was extended six days. 

The day assigned for "The Rocket" was the third day, but when on thesecond day all other engines failed, it was brought out to entertainthe spectators. Attaching it to a coach full of passengers, Stephenson ran over the line at a rate reaching _thirty miles perhour_, to the amazement of all. 

The next morning "The Rocket" was subjected to the regular test. Itsassigned load was thirteen and a half tons which it drew back andforth over the two-mile track the full stent of forty times, makinga spurt at times as high as twenty-nine miles, about three timeswhat had been declared possible by the judges! Finally, to show howfast the engine could go and still keep the track, Mr. Stephensonran it alone at the astonishing rate of thirty-five miles per hour. 

Thus did "The Rocket" surpass all records and all expectations. Theenthusiasm of every one was unbounded. All doubts were removed andStephenson's opponents in the company became his ardent friends. Hisjudgment seemed infallible, and his word was law. 

This victory at Rainhill completed the triumph of the Liverpool andManchester Railway. The road was opened the following year, 1830, with most imposing ceremonies. Members of Parliament, lords andladies, and even the great Duke of Wellington, honored the occasionby their presence, and rode on the excursion trains. 

The story of George Stephenson's great work is told. His railroadand his locomotive had come together, and to stay. All oppositionwas crushed, and no sooner was one road in successful operation thananother, sometimes several, were on foot. George and RobertStephenson were in demand everywhere and their locomotive works werefull of orders. In twenty years England had nearly ten thousandmiles of railways. 

The spectacle of these two men, father and son, working together asequals was one often admired. Both became wealthy and full ofhonor. Titled men were proud to pay their respects to GeorgeStephenson, and when he died, in 1848, at the age of sixty-seven, the whole nation rose up to do him honor. 

Though probably Stephenson had never heard of Emerson, Emerson hadheard of Stephenson, and he called upon him on his visit to England. Afterward Emerson said that "it was worth crossing the Atlantic tohave seen Stephenson alone; he had such native force of characterand vigor of intellect. "

What a contrast that meeting offers! There face to face stood twomen, two great philosophers, both of whom have broadly and deeplyinfluenced mankind--one by deeds, the other by words. One wieldedthe pen, giving us noble, beautiful and inspiring thoughts, profoundly analyzing life and character; the other wielded thosecunning tools with which man subdues nature and harnesses its forcesto do his will. He wrote not for the pages of a book, but on linesof steel with a stylus that conquered time and space, bringingdistant cities into companionship. I look up to each with an equalreverence. Each achieved the conquest of mind over matter, and eachexhibited the exceeding manliness of a noble life and character. 

There is no space with which to speak of Stephenson's safety-lamp, nor of the influence his life and character have had on the brainand brawn of working England. If my reader is interested to know himmore and better, let him consult the nearest library. 

One word about "The Rocket" and this brief sketch is done. For someyears "The Rocket" did service on the Liverpool and Manchester road, but it soon proved too light for the heavy traffic, and was sold toa coal company in the North, where for years it faithfully hauledcoal-cars from the mines. But even there it was superseded, and incontempt consigned to the back-yard. It was still fleet, but notstrong. In that dreary back-yard among useless lumber, the oncepeerless "Rocket" spent a season or two in rain and snow and sunnyweather, when George Stephenson bought it back and put it in hiscabinet at the Newcastle works. After Stephenson's death theprecious relic was placed in the British Museum in London. 

"The Rocket" itself was exhibited a few years ago at the RailwayExposition in Chicago, and an exact copy of it was shown at therecent World's Fair. 

[Signature: C. M. Woodward. ]

SAMUEL F. B. MORSE

(1791-1872)

[Illustration: Samuel F. B. Morse. ]

Samuel Finley Breese Morse, artist and inventor, was born at thefoot of Breed's Hill, Charlestown, Mass. , on April 27, 1791. Hisfather was the Rev. Jedediah Morse, D. D. , the author of Morse's"Geography. " At the age of fourteen Samuel Morse entered YaleCollege; under the instruction of Professors Day and Silliman hereceived the first impulse toward those electrical studies withwhich his name is mainly identified. 

In 1811 Morse, whose tastes during his early years led him morestrongly toward art than toward science, became the pupil ofWashington Allston, then the greatest of American artists, andaccompanied his master to England, where he remained four years. Hissuccess at this period was considerable; but on his return toAmerica, in 1815, he failed to obtain commissions for historicalpaintings, and after working on portraits for two years atCharleston, S. C. , he removed first to Washington and afterward toAlbany, finally settling in New York. In 1825 he laid thefoundations of the National Academy of Design, and was elected itsfirst president, an office which he filled until 1845. The year 1827marks the revival of Morse's interest in electricity. It was at thistime that he learned from Professor J. F. Dana, of Columbia College, the elementary facts of electro-magnetism. As yet, however, he wasdevoted to his art, and in 1829 he again went to Europe to study theold masters. 

The year of his return, 1832, may be said to close the period of hisartistic, and to open that of his scientific, life. On board thepacket-ship Sully, which sailed from Havre, October 1, 1832, whilediscussing one day with his fellow-passengers the properties of theelectro-magnet, he was led to remark: "If the presence ofelectricity can be made visible in any part of the circuit, I see noreason why intelligence may not be transmitted by electricity. "

It was not a novel proposition, but the process of formulating itstarted in his mind a train of new and momentous ideas. The currentof electricity, he knew, would pass instantaneously any distancealong a wire; and if it were interrupted a spark would appear. Itnow occurred to him that the spark might represent a part of speech, either a letter or a number; the absence of the spark, another part;and the duration of its absence, or of the spark itself, a third; sothat an alphabet might be easily formed, and words indicated. In afew days he had completed rough drafts of the necessary apparatus, which he displayed to his fellow-passengers. Five years later, thecaptain of the ship identified under oath Morse's completedinstrument with that which Morse had explained on board the Sully, in 1832. 

During the twelve years that followed Morse was engaged in a painfulstruggle to perfect his invention and secure for it a properpresentation to the public. The refusal of the Government tocommission him to paint one of the great historical pictures in therotunda of the Capitol, seemed to destroy all his old artisticambition. In poverty he pursued his new enterprise, making his ownmodels, moulds, and castings, denying himself the common necessariesof life, and encountering embarrassments and delays of the mostdisheartening kind. It was not until 1836 that he completed anyapparatus that would work, his original idea having beensupplemented by his discovery, in 1835, of the "relay, " by means ofwhich the electric current might be reinforced or renewed where itbecame weak through distance from its source. Finally, on September2, 1837, the instrument was exhibited to a few friends at his roomin the University building, New York, where a circuit of 1, 700 feetof copper wire had been set up, with such satisfactory results as toawaken the practical interest of the Messrs. Vail, iron and brassworkers in New Jersey, who thenceforth became associated with Morsein his undertaking. 

Morse's petition for a patent was dated September 28, 1837, and wassoon followed by a petition to Congress for an appropriation todefray the expense of subjecting the telegraph to actual experimentover a length sufficient to establish its feasibility anddemonstrate its value. The Committee on Commerce, to whom thepetition was referred, reported favorably. Congress, however, adjourned without making the appropriation, and meanwhile Morsesailed for Europe to take out patents there. The trip was not asuccess. In England his application was refused, on the allegedground that his invention had been already published; and while heobtained a patent in France, it was subsequently appropriated by theFrench Government without compensation to himself. His negotiationsalso with Russia proved futile, and after a year's absence hereturned to New York. 

On February 23, 1843, Congress passed the long-delayed appropriationof $30, 000; and steps were at once taken to construct a telegraphfrom Baltimore to Washington. On May 24, 1844, it was used for thefirst time, Mr. Morse himself sending over the wires the first andever-to-be-remembered message, "What hath God wrought. "

[Illustration: Samuel F. B. Morse, Inventor of the Telegraph. ]

Morse's parents were already secured to him and his associates, andcompanies were soon formed for the erection of telegraph lines allover the United States. In the year 1847 he was compelled to defendhis invention in the courts, and successfully vindicated his claimsto be called the original inventor of the electro-magnetic recordingtelegraph. Thenceforward Morse's life was spent in witnessing thegrowth of his enterprise, and in gathering the honors which anappreciative public bestowed upon him. As years went by he receivedfrom the various foreign governments their highest distinctions, while in 1858 the representatives of Austria, Belgium, France, theNetherlands, Piedmont, Russia, the Holy See, Sweden, Tuscany, andTurkey appropriated the sum of 400, 000 francs in recognition of theuse of his instruments in those countries. 

The telegraph is not the only great success with which the name ofSamuel Morse is honorably connected. Having made the acquaintance ofDaguerre in Paris, he studied with him the infancy of photography, and was the first to take sun pictures, or daguerreotypes, inAmerica. Also it was he who made the first submarine electric cable. This was laid in New York Harbor; and from it he was the first toconceive that stupendous idea of the transoceanic telegraph. In thepreparations for laying the first Atlantic cable he took an activepart, though the attempt of 1857, in which he personally engaged, was not successful. He died April 2, 1872, at New York, where hisstatue in bronze now stands in the Central Park. 

PETER COOPER[12]

 [Footnote 12: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By CLARENCE COOK

(1791-1883)

[Illustration: Peter Cooper. ]

It may be said, without exaggeration, that few men in our time andcountry, not occupying official position, have been so widely andsincerely mourned as the late Peter Cooper. Other men have been asgenuinely good as he, and have founded charitable institutions asworthy and as useful, in their way, as the one which is to be thelasting monument to his memory. But Peter Cooper held a place in thehearts of his fellow-citizens which belonged to him alone. A man, tooutward seeming, in manners and conversation as plain and homespunas his name, he held unshaken from youth to old age--and to few menis it allotted to live in uninterrupted health and action to the ageof ninety-two--the confidence, the respect and the affection of allsorts of people: the rich and the poor, the high and the low, thelearned and the unlearned, people of all parties and of allreligions. Character is the accumulation of little actions, andmakes its deepest impression, of course, when these actions havebeen observed by great numbers of people during a long period oftime. The whole of his ninety-two years, with the exception of ashort time passed in his youth in its vicinity, were spent by Mr. Cooper in the city of New York. It was little more than a countrytown when he was born; it was already one of the great cities of theworld when he died; and in all that time he had been associated withthe business enterprises that had helped its growth, as one of thechief actors. 

The fortune that he built up was both earned and expended here; themanner of its earning was known of all men, but the way in which itwas expended was rather felt than known, for, like all great andgenerous benefactors, Mr. Cooper was without ostentation; but as hegave while he was alive and all the time that he was alive; and ashe gave to the people among whom he lived, and not to outsiders, itnaturally followed that his name, his person, his traits ofcharacter, became, as it were, a common possession to the people ofNew York; but few men upon whom such a glare of publicity had fallenfor so many years would have been able to bear the scrutiny so wellas Peter Cooper. 

He was born on February 12, 1791, presumably in Little Dock Street, now Water Street, Coenties Slip, where his father, John Cooper, carried on the trade of a hatter. His shop was near the store ofJohn Jacob Astor, from whom he bought the beaver-skins which he madeup into hats. John Cooper had served in the war of the Revolution, and when it ended, he retired with the rank of lieutenant. Hemarried Margaret, the daughter of John Campbell, who also had servedin the Continental army, as quartermaster, and who now carried onthe trade of potter and tile-maker on the spot where St. Paul'sChapel now stands. 

To John and Margaret Cooper nine children were born, two daughtersand seven sons, of whom Peter was the fifth, and was named after theapostle in the belief, as his father expressed it, that he wouldcome to something. Following the fashion of the time, he was set towork at his father's trade as soon as he was old enough to work, asall his brothers had been before him: and in later years hedescribed himself as a little boy, with his head just reaching thetop of the table where he was set to pulling out the hairs fromrabbit skins to use in making fur hats; and he was kept at thebusiness until he was fifteen, when, as he used to tell, he hadlearned to make every part of a hat. So independent is businesssuccess of what is commonly called education, that it may be ofinterest to record that Peter Cooper never went to school for morethan one year, and only in the half of each day of school: hisparents were poor, and could not spare what his labor earned, andbesides his health was delicate, and the confinement of school wasthought more injurious to him than the work in the shop. Inconsequence of this restriction Peter Cooper grew to manhood withvery little learning beyond reading, writing, and the rudiments ofarithmetic, and while this was a source of regret to him all hislife, it was in reality the spur that drove him to found aninstitution that should take away all excuses for ignorance from thecoming generations of poor boys in his native city. 

The elder Cooper would seem to have been a man of small practicalcapacity or staying power, for he moved about from place to place, changing his business in the hope of bettering his condition; nowgoing to Peekskill to set up a brewery; thence to Catskill, wherehe added brick-making to making beer; then to Brooklyn to tryhatting again; and finally to Newburgh, where he returned tobrewing. In all these shiftings of home and business Peter remainedwith his father and gave him what help he could; he used in laterlife to recall his carrying about the beer-kegs to his father'scustomers; but at the age of seventeen, with his parents' consent, he came back to New York, and looked about for work on his ownaccount. He had saved up from his small earnings, while with hisfather, the sum of ten dollars, and with this, he tells us, hebought a lottery ticket, which drew a blank. This seeming misfortunehe turned to good account, for he then determined never to trust toluck again, but to be content to earn his bread in the appointedway: it was his first and last speculation. On reaching New York hehad the usual difficulty in finding employment, but at length wasaccepted as an apprentice by a firm of carriage-makers, to whom, with his father's consent, he bound himself until he should come ofage; his masters agreeing to pay him $25 a year and his board. Hisgrandmother had a house on Broadway, in which she gave him the useof an upper room, and here in his spare hours he employed himself inwood-carving, in which he acquired some proficiency. In his businesshe worked so industriously, and made himself so valuable to hisemployers, that when his time expired they offered to lend him themoney to go into business for himself; but he did not accept thisgenerous offer, as he was determined never to be in debt. While withMessrs. Burtis and Woodward he had invented a machine for mortisingwheel-hubs, thus giving the first evidence of an inventive facultywhich, though never accomplishing great things, was often ofconsiderable service both to himself and the community. On leavingthe business of carriage-making Peter Cooper went to Hempstead, L. I. , where he found work in a woollen factory. Here he invented andpatented an improvement on the machine in use for shearing the napof cloth; and as during the war of 1812 all commerce with Englandceased, cloth-making in America flourished, and from the sale of hismachines, which he could hardly make fast enough to supply thedemand, young Cooper reaped a considerable profit. One of his firstcustomers was the late Matthew Vassar, of Poughkeepsie, to whom henot only sold some of his machines, but also the right to dispose ofthem in Dutchess County. When he found that his earnings had enabledhim to lay by the sum of $500, he thought himself justified inasking a young woman, Miss Sarah Bedel, whom he had met when inHempstead, to become his wife; but before doing so, he determined tovisit his parents in Newburgh, and inform them of his intention. Hefound them in great trouble, his father in debt and needing help;and without hesitation he placed his small savings at his disposal, paid the most pressing of the debts, and made arrangements forpaying off the rest. His father was thus saved from bankruptcy byhis son's devotion; but the action was characteristic of PeterCooper, both in its unselfishness, and as indicative of his businessintegrity. He would never be in debt himself, and he was equallyresolved to keep those belonging to him as free as himself. He tookpride in the fact that neither he nor his father had ever failed inbusiness; and this is the more remarkable, since in the course ofhis business life the country passed through no less than tenserious commercial panics. 

Peter Cooper and Miss Bedel were married on December 22, 1813, whenhe was twenty-two and the lady twenty-one. Their married life, as itwas exceptionally long, so it was exceptionally happy. It lastedfifty-six years; Mrs. Cooper died in 1869, and Mr. Cooper survivedher fourteen years, dying in 1883. Their golden wedding wascelebrated in 1863. They had six children, but only two lived togrow up; the Hon. Edward Cooper, once mayor of the city, and SarahAmelia Cooper, the wife of the Hon. Abram S. Hewitt. Mr. JamesParton says: "There never was a happier marriage than this. To oldage Mr. Cooper never sat near his wife without holding her hand inhis. He never spoke to her, nor of her, without some tender epithet. He attributed the great happiness of his life and most of hissuccess to her admirable qualities. She seconded every good impulseof his benevolence, and made the fulfilment of his great schemepossible by her wise and resolute economy. "

Mr. Cooper seems to have inherited something of his father'sbusiness restlessness, for in addition to the many pursuits in whichwe have seen him engage, he now bought a grocery stand, and in abouta year gave that up and purchased a glue factory, selling hisgrocery business and buying a lease of the glue factory fortwenty-one years, for $2, 000, his whole savings. He differed fromhis father in this, that everything prospered with which he had todo. The grocery had done well, but the glue factory did better. "Atthat time nearly all the glue used in this country was imported fromIreland, and sold at a high price. Mr. Cooper studied the subjectand experimented, until he was able to make better glue than theIrish and sell it at a lower price, and he soon had nearly theentire glue business of the country in his hands. " But chance hadnothing to do with Mr. Cooper's success: the secret of that successwas unremitting industry and generous economy. He worked that hemight earn, and he saved that he might use and give. For twentyyears while he held the glue factory, he was his own bookkeeper, clerk, and salesman; going to the factory at daybreak to light thefires, and spending the evenings at home, posting his books, writing, and reading to his family. 

In 1828, moved by the interest in business circles in the completionof the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, Mr. Cooper, with two partners, bought a tract of three thousand acres within the city limits ofBaltimore. By the failure of his associates to meet the payment oftheir shares, Mr. Cooper was obliged to shoulder the whole cost, amounting to $105, 000. The road, too, owing to unexpecteddifficulties in construction, was dreading bankruptcy, from which itwas saved by Mr. Cooper's ingenuity in devising a locomotive thatenabled the company to overcome certain difficulties that had beenthought insurmountable. Failing in the end to sell his land as hehad hoped, Mr. Cooper decided to utilize the timber growing on it inthe manufacture of charcoal iron. When he had, after manydifficulties, established his works, he sold out to some Bostoncapitalists, who formed the Canton Iron Company. Mr. Cooper took alarge part of the purchase in stock at $45 a share, which he finallysold out at $230 a share. 

This was the beginning of his interest in the iron business, wherethe greater part of his fortune was made. The remainder came fromhis glue works and the industries connected with them. In 1873, theyear of the great panic, in a letter to President Grant suggestingremedial legislation, Mr. Cooper said that not less than a thousandpersons depended for their bread on the business carried on in thecircle of his family. He had at that time two rolling-mills running, and two mills for the manufacture of wire and springs; and his glue, oil, and isinglass works gave employment to two hundred persons. 

The story of Mr. Cooper's connection with the laying of the Atlanticcable has been so often told, that we do not repeat it here. It addsfurther testimony to his indomitable energy, his largeness of view, his financial ability, and the confidence that was felt in him byhis fellow-men. The story of the difficulties, failures and finalsuccess of this grandest achievement of modern science andenterprise, is as romantic as any episode in social history. 

But, in Peter Cooper's view, the most important event in hislife--the one to which all his energies, his thoughts, his economicshad been steadily directed since his youth--was the founding of theinstitution that bears his name, and that has made him a powerfulfactor in the development of New York. It was the outcome, in thefirst place, of its founder's regret for the deficiencies of his ownearly training, which were owing partly to his parents' poverty andpartly to the lack of public or free schools in his native city whenhe was a boy. But this regret, which could only have been felt by aman of superior intelligence, was made to flower in this greatresult by Mr. Cooper's genuine, deep, and unfailing love for hisfellow-men, and his belief in the duty of every man to help the raceforward in its progress to a better social condition. He has himselfstated the principles on which his life was founded. His aim was "torender some equivalent to society, in some useful form of labor, foreach day of his existence;" and "while he had always recognized thatthe object of business is to make money in an honorable manner, hehad endeavored to remember that the object of life is to do good. "

In 1876 Mr. Cooper was nominated for the presidency by the NationalIndependent or "Greenback" party. It was with no selfish ambitionthat he allowed his name to go before the voters of the country, andhis only regret at the result was that a policy was defeated whichhe believed to be for the public good. 

Mr. Cooper died April 4, 1883, at the age of ninety-two, after ashort illness, the result of a cold. At his funeral, the late Dr. Crosby said: "What an example has been set by this life to our youngmen! How it shows them what the true aim of life should be! What anexample to our wealthy men to show that money obtained by honestindustry, and spent in benefiting mankind, will never produce warbetween labor and capital, but will assuage all angry elements, andgive universal peace! Oh! if all our wealthy men were like PeterCooper, all classes would be satisfied, all commotions cease, andthe community would be as near perfection--as near perfection in thepecuniary view--as it possibly could be on earth. "

[Signature: Clarence Cook. ]

LOUIS KOSSUTH

(1802-1894)

[Illustration: Louis Kossuth. ]

Louis Kossuth was born at Monok, in Zemplin, one of the northerncounties of Hungary, April 21, 1802. His family was ancient, butimpoverished; his father served in the Austrian army during the warsagainst Napoleon; his mother is represented to have been a woman ofextraordinary force of mind and character. Kossuth thus adds anotherto the long list of great men who seem to have inherited theirgenius from their mothers. As a boy he was remarkable for thewinning gentleness of his disposition, and for an earnestenthusiasm, which gave promise of future eminence, could he butbreak the bonds imposed by low birth and iron fortune. A youngclergyman was attracted by the character of the boy, and voluntarilytook upon himself the office of his tutor, and thus first openedbefore his mind visions of a broader world than that of themiserable village of his residence. But these serene days of powerexpanding under genial guidance soon passed away. His father died, his tutor was translated to another post, and the walls of hisprison-house seemed again to close upon the boy. But by the aid ofmembers of his family, themselves in humble circumstances, he wasenabled to attend such schools as the district furnished. Littleworth knowing was taught there; but among that little was the Latinlanguage; and through that door the young dreamer was introducedinto the broad domains of history, where, abandoning the meanpresent, he could range at will through the immortal past. 

In times of peace the law offers to an aspiring youth the readiestmeans of ascent from a low degree to lofty stations. Kossuth, therefore, when just entering upon manhood, made his way to Pesth, the capital, to study the legal profession. Here he entered theoffice of a notary, and began gradually to make himself known by hisliberal opinions and the fervid eloquence with which he set forthand maintained them; and men began to see in him the promise of apowerful public writer, orator, and debater. 

The man and the hour were alike preparing. In 1825, the year beforeKossuth arrived at Pesth, the critical state of her Italianpossessions compelled Austria to provide extraordinary revenues. TheHungarian Diet was then assembled, after an interval of thirteenyears. This Diet at once demanded certain measures of reform beforethey would make the desired pecuniary grants. The court was obligedto concede these demands. Kossuth, having completed his legalstudies, and finding no favorable opening in the capital, returned, in 1830, to his native district, and commenced the practice of thelaw, with marked success. He also began to make his way towardpublic life by his assiduous attendance and intelligent action inthe local assemblies. A new Diet was assembled in 1832, and hereceived a commission as the representative in the Diet of a magnatewho was absent. As proxy for an absentee he was only charged, by theHungarian Constitution, with a very subordinate part, his functionsbeing more those of a counsel than of a delegate. This, however, wasa post much sought for by young and aspiring lawyers, as giving theman opportunity of mastering legal forms, displaying their abilities, and forming advantageous connections. 

This Diet renewed the Liberal struggle with increased vigor. By farthe best talent of Hungary was ranged upon the Liberal side. Kossuthearly made himself known as a debater, and gradually won his wayupward, and became associated with the leading men of the Liberalparty, many of whom were among the proudest and richest of theHungarian magnates. He soon undertook to publish a report of thedebates and proceedings of the Diet. This attempt was opposed by thePalatine, and a law hunted up which forbade the "printing andpublishing" of these reports. He, for a while, evaded the law byhaving his sheet lithographed. It increased in its development ofdemocratic tendencies, and in popularity, until finally thelithographic press was seized by Government. Kossuth, determined notto be baffled, still issued his journal, every copy being writtenout by scribes, of whom he employed a large number. To avoid seizureat the post-office, they were circulated through the localauthorities, who were almost invariably on the Liberal side. Hisperiodical penetrated into every part of the kingdom, and men sawwith wonder a young and almost unknown public writer boldly pittinghimself against Metternich and the whole Austrian cabinet. Kossuthmight well, at this period, declare that he "felt within himselfsomething nameless. "

In the succeeding Diets the Opposition grew still more determined. Kossuth, though twice admonished by Government, still continued hisjournal; and no longer confined himself to simple reports of theproceedings of the Diet, but added political remarks of the keenestsatire and most bitter denunciation. He was aware that his coursewas a perilous one. He was once found by a friend walking in deepreverie in the fortress of Buda, and in reply to a question as tothe subject of his meditations, he said, "I was looking at thecasemates, for I fear that I shall soon be quartered there. "Government finally determined to use arguments more cogent thandiscussion could furnish. Baron Wesselenyi, the leader of theLiberal party, was arrested, together with a number of hisadherents, among whom Kossuth was of too much note to be overlooked. 

Kossuth became at once sanctified in the popular mind as a martyr. Liberal subscriptions were raised through the country for thebenefit of his mother and sisters, whom he had supported by hisexertions, and who were now left without protection. Wesselenyibecame blind in prison; Lovassi, an intimate friend of Kossuth, losthis reason; and Kossuth himself, as was certified by his physicians, was in imminent risk of falling a victim to a serious disease. Therigor of his confinement was mitigated; he was allowed books, newspapers, and writing materials, and suffered to walk daily uponthe bastions of the fortress, in charge of an officer. Among thosewho were inspired with admiration for his political efforts, andwith sympathy for his fate, was Teresa Mezlenyi, the young daughterof a nobleman. She sent him books, and corresponded with him duringhis imprisonment; and they were married in 1841, soon after hisliberation. 

In the second year of Kossuth's imprisonment Austria again neededHungarian assistance. The threatening aspect of affairs in the East, growing out of the relations between Turkey and Egypt, determinedall the great powers to increase their armaments. A demand was madeupon the Hungarian Diet for an additional levy of 18, 000 troops. Alarge body of delegates was chosen pledged to oppose this grantexcept upon condition of certain concessions, among which was ageneral amnesty, with a special reference to the cases of Wesselenyiand Kossuth. The more sagacious of the Conservative party advisedGovernment to liberate all the prisoners, with the exception ofKossuth; and to do this before the meeting of the Diet, in orderthat their liberation might not be made a condition of granting thelevy, which must be the occasion of great excitement. The cabinettemporized and did nothing. The Diet was opened, and the contest waswaged during six months. The Opposition had a majority of two in theChamber of Deputies, but were in a meagre minority in the Chamber ofMagnates. But Metternich and the cabinet grew alarmed at thestruggle, and were eager to obtain the grant of men, and to closethe refractory Diet. In 1840 a royal rescript suddenly made itsappearance, granting the amnesty, accompanied also with conciliatoryremarks, and the demands of the Government for men and money were atonce complied with. 

Kossuth issued from prison, in 1840, bearing in his debilitatedframe, his pallid face, and glassy eyes, traces of severesufferings, both of mind and body. He repaired for a time to awatering-place among the mountains to recruit his shattered health. His imprisonment had done more for his influence than he could haveeffected if at liberty. The visitors at the watering-place treatedwith silent respect the man who moved about among them indressing-gown and slippers, and whose slow steps, and languidfeatures, disfigured with yellow spots, proclaimed him an invalid. Abundant subscriptions had been made for his benefit and that of hisfamily, and he now stood on an equality with the proudest magnates. These had so often used the name of the "Martyr of the Liberty ofthe Press, " in pointing their speeches, that they now had no choicebut to accept the popular verdict as their own. 

Soon after his liberation, Kossuth came forward as the principaleditor of the _Pesth Gazette_ (_Pesthi Hirlap_), which a booksellerwho enjoyed the protection of the Government had received permissionto establish. The name of the editor was now sufficient to electrifythe country; and Kossuth at once stood forth as the advocate of therights of the lower and middle classes against the inordinateprivileges and immunities enjoyed by the magnates. But when he wentto the extent of demanding that the house-tax should be paid by allclasses in the community, not even excepting the highest nobility, aparty was raised up against him among the nobles, who established apaper to combat so disorganizing a doctrine. This party, backed bythe influence of the Government, succeeded in defeating the electionof Kossuth as member from Pesth for the Diet of 1843. He was, however, very active in the local assembly of the capital. 

Kossuth was not altogether without support among the higher nobles. The blind old Wesselenyi traversed the country, advocating ruralfreedom and the abolition of the urbarial burdens. Among hissupporters at this period, also, was Count Louis Batthyanyi, one ofthe most considerable of the Magyar magnates, subsequently Presidentof the Hungarian Ministry, and the most illustrious martyr of theHungarian cause. Aided by his powerful support, Kossuth was againbrought forward, in 1847, as one of the two candidates from Pesth. The Government party, aware that they were in a decided minority, limited their efforts to an attempt to defeat the election ofKossuth. This they endeavored to effect by stratagem, but failedutterly. 

Kossuth no sooner took his seat in the Diet than the foremost placewas at once conceded to him. At the opening of the session he movedan address to the king, concluding with the petition that "liberalinstitutions, similar to those of the Hungarian Constitution, mightbe accorded to all the hereditary states, that thus might be createda united Austrian monarchy, based upon broad and constitutionalprinciples. " During the early months of the session Kossuth showedhimself a most accomplished parliamentary orator and debater; andcarried on a series of attacks upon the policy of the Austriancabinet, which for skill and power have few parallels in the annalsof parliamentary warfare. Those form a very inadequate conception ofits scope and power, whose ideas of the eloquence of Kossuth arederived solely from the impassioned and exclamatory harangues whichhe flung out during the war. These were addressed to men wrought upto the utmost tension, and can be judged fairly only by men in astate of high excitement. He adapted his matter and manner to theoccasion and the audience. Some of his speeches are marked by astringency of logic worthy of Webster or Calhoun; but it was whatall eloquence of a high order must ever be--"logic red-hot. "

Now came the French Revolution of February, 1848. The news of itreached Vienna on March 1st, and was received at Presburg on the 2d. On the following day Kossuth delivered his famous speech on thefinances and the state of the monarchy generally, concluding with aproposed "Address to the Throne, " urging a series of reformatorymeasures. Among the foremost of these was the emancipation of thecountry from feudal burdens--the proprietors of the soil to beindemnified by the state; equalizing taxation; a faithfuladministration of the revenue to be satisfactorily guaranteed; thefurther development of the representative system; and theestablishment of a government representing the voice of, andresponsible to, the nation. The speech produced an effect almostwithout parallel in the annals of debate. Not a word was uttered inreply, and the motion was unanimously carried. On March 13th tookplace the revolution in Vienna which overthrew the Metternich cabinet. On the 15th the constitution granted by the emperor to all the nationswithin the empire was solemnly proclaimed amid the wildest transportsof joy. Henceforth there were to be no more Germans or Sclavonians, Magyars or Italians; strangers embraced and kissed each other in thestreets, for all the heterogeneous races of the empire were nowbrothers: as likewise were all the nations of the earth at AnacharsisKlootz's "Feast of Pikes" in Paris on that 14th day of July in theyear of grace 1790--and yet, notwithstanding, came the "Reign ofTerror. "

Among the demands made by the Hungarian Diet was that of a separateand responsible ministry for Hungary. The Palatine, ArchdukeStephen, to whom the conduct of affairs in Hungary had beenintrusted, persuaded the emperor to accede to this demand, and onthe following day Batthyanyi, who, with Kossuth and a deputation ofdelegates of the Diet was in Vienna, was named President of theHungarian ministry. It was, however, understood that Kossuth was thelife and soul of the new ministry. 

Kossuth assumed the Department of Finance, then, as long before andnow, the post of difficulty under Austrian administration. The Diet, meanwhile, went on to consummate the series of reforms which Kossuthhad so long and steadfastly advocated. 

Up to this time there had been, indeed, a vigorous and decidedopposition, but no insurrection. The true cause of the Hungarian warwas the hostility of the Austrian Government to the whole series ofreformatory measures which had been effected through theinstrumentality of Kossuth; but its immediate occasion was thejealousy which sprung up among the Servian and Croatian dependenciesof Hungary against the Hungarian ministry. This soon broke out intoan open revolt, headed by Baron Jellachich, who had just beenappointed Ban, or Lord, of Croatia. How far the Serbs and Croats hadoccasion for jealousy is of little consequence to our presentpurpose to inquire; though we may say, in passing, that theproceedings of the Magyars toward the other Hungarian races wasmarked by a far more just and generous feeling and conduct thancould have been possibly expected. But however the case may havebeen, as between the Magyars and Croats, as between the Hungariansand Austria, the hostile course of the latter is without excuse orpalliation. The emperor had solemnly sanctioned the action of theDiet, and did as solemnly denounce the proceedings of Jellachich. OnMay 29th the Ban was summoned to present himself at Innsprück toanswer for his conduct, and as he did not make his appearance, animperial manifesto was issued on June 10th depriving him of all hisdignities, and commanding the authorities at once to break off allintercourse with him. He, however, still continued his operations, and levied an army for the invasion of Hungary, and a fierce andbloody war of races broke out, marked on both sides by the mostfearful atrocities. 

The Hungarian Diet was opened on July 5th, when the Palatine, Archduke Stephen, in the name of the king, solemnly denounced theconduct of the insurgent Croats. A few days after, Kossuth, in aspeech in the Diet, set forth the perilous state of affairs, andconcluded by asking for authority to raise an army of 200, 000 men, and a large amount of money. These proposals were adopted byacclamation, the enthusiasm in the Diet rendering any debateimpossible and superfluous. 

The Imperial forces having been victorious in Italy, and onepressing danger being thus averted from the empire, the Austriancabinet began openly to display its hostility to the Hungarianmovement. Jellachich repaired to Innsprück, and was openlyacknowledged by the court, and the decree of deposition was revoked. Early in September Hungary and Austria stood in an attitude ofundisguised hostility. On the 5th of that month Kossuth, thoughenfeebled by illness, was carried to the hall of the Diet, where hedelivered a speech, declaring that so formidable were the dangersthat surrounded the nation, that the ministers might soon be forcedto call upon the Diet to name a dictator, clothed with unlimitedpowers, to save the country; but before taking this final step theywould recommend a last appeal to the Imperial Government. A largedeputation was thereupon despatched to the emperor, to lay beforehim the demands of the Hungarian nation. No satisfactory answer wasreturned, and the deputation left the imperial presence in silence. On their return they plucked from their caps the plumes of theunited colors of Austria and Hungary, and replaced them with redfeathers, and hoisted a flag of the same color on the steamer whichconveyed them to Pesth. Their report produced the most intenseagitation in the Diet and at the capital, but it was finallyresolved to make one more attempt for a pacific settlement of thequestion. In order that no obstacle might be interposed by theirpresence, Kossuth and his colleagues resigned, and a new ministrywas appointed. A deputation was sent to the National Assembly atVienna, which refused to receive it. Jellachich had in the meantimeentered Hungary with a large army, not as yet, however, openlysanctioned by imperial authority. The Diet, seeing the imminentperil of the country, conferred dictatorial powers upon Kossuth. ThePalatine resigned his post and left the kingdom. The emperorappointed Count Lemberg to take the entire command of the Hungarianarmy. The Diet declared the appointment illegal, and the count, arriving at Pesth without escort, was slain in the streets of thecapital by the populace, in a sudden outbreak. The emperor forthwithplaced the kingdom under martial law, giving the supreme civil andmilitary power to Jellachich. The Diet at once revolted, declareditself permanent, and appointed Kossuth Governor, and President ofthe Committee of Safety. 

There was now but one course left for the Hungarians: to maintain byforce of arms the position they had assumed. We cannot detail theevents of the war which followed, but merely touch upon the mostsalient points. Jellachich was speedily driven out of Hungary towardVienna. In October the Austrian forces were concentrated, undercommand of Windischgrätz, to the number of 120, 000 veterans, andwere put on the march for Hungary. To oppose them the only forcesunder the command of the new government of Hungary were 20, 000regular infantry, 7, 000 cavalry, and 14, 000 recruits, who receivedthe name of Honveds, or "protectors of home. " Of all the movementsthat followed, Kossuth was the soul and chief. His burning andpassionate appeals stirred up the souls of the peasants, and sentthem by thousands to the camp. He kindled enthusiasm, he organizedthat enthusiasm, and transformed those raw recruits into soldiersmore than a match for the veteran troops of Austria. Though himselfnot a soldier, he discovered and drew about him soldiers andgenerals of a high order. The result was that Windischgrätz wasdriven back from Hungary, and of the 120, 000 troops which he ledinto that kingdom in October, one-half were killed, disabled, ortaken prisoners at the end of April. The state of the war on May 1stmay be gathered from the imperial manifesto of that date, whichannounced that "the insurrection in Hungary had grown to such anextent" that the Imperial Government "had been induced to appeal tothe assistance of his majesty the Czar of all the Russias, whogenerously and readily granted it to a most satisfactory extent. "The issue of the contest could no longer be doubtful when theimmense weight of Russia was thrown into the scale. In modernwarfare there is a limit beyond which devotion and enthusiasm cannotsupply the place of numbers and material force. And that limit wasoverpassed when Russia and Austria were pitted against Hungary. 

On May 1st the Russian intervention was announced. On August 11thKossuth resigned his dictatorship into the hands of Görgey, who, twodays after, in effect closed the war by surrendering to theRussians. 

The Hungarian war thus lasted a little more than eleven months, during which time there was but one ruling and directing spirit, andthat was Kossuth, to whose immediate career we now return. 

Nothing remained for him and his companions but flight. They gainedthe Turkish frontier, and threw themselves on the hospitality of thesultan, who promised them a safe asylum. Russia and Austria demandedthat the fugitives should be given up; but being supported by Franceand England, the sultan arranged a compromise by which they weredetained in Asia Minor as prisoners. Kossuth was released in 1851, and made a tour of the United States, agitating in favor of Hungary. He never returned to his native land, but lived an exile for overforty years. For a while he struggled desperately to help theHungarians; then, finding that the universal progress of liberalideas was doing more for them than he ever could, he resignedhimself to a peaceful life devoted to literature and science. Hedied at Turin, March 20, 1894, reverenced by all the world, andmourned by his countrymen with tumultuous demonstrations as theirnational hero. 

Kossuth occupies a position peculiarly his own, whether we regardthe circumstances of his rise, or the feelings which have followedhim in his fall. Born in the middle ranks of life, he raised himselfby sheer force of intellect to the loftiest place among the proudestnobles on earth, without ever deserting or being deserted by theclass from which he sprung. He effected a sweeping reform withoutappealing to any sordid or sanguinary motive. No soldier himself, hetransformed a country into a camp, and a nation into an army. Hetransmuted his words into batteries, and his thoughts into soldiers. Without ever having looked upon a stricken field, he organized themost complete system of resistance to despotism that the history ofrevolutions has furnished. It failed, but only failed where nothingcould have succeeded. 

JOHN ERICSSON[13]

 [Footnote 13: Reprinted, by permission, from the Magazine of American History. ]

By MARTHA J. LAMB

(1803-1889)

[Illustration: John Ericsson. ]

In a message, referring to the relations of our country with theseveral nations of Europe, President Harrison said: "The restorationof the remains of John Ericsson to Sweden afforded a gratifyingoccasion to honor the memory of the great inventor, to whose geniusour country owes so much, and to bear witness to the unbrokenfriendship which has existed between the land which bore him and ourown, which claimed him as a citizen. "

This paragraph is a forcible reminder of the impressive ceremonialwitnessed in the streets and harbor of New York City, on Saturday, August 23, 1890. It had been intimated to this Government, as iswell known, that the Government of Sweden would regard it as agraceful act if the remains of Captain John Ericsson should beconveyed to his native country upon a United States man-of-war; andarrangements having been completed, the Baltimore was assigned tothe service. In committing the illustrious dead to the care of thecommander of the Baltimore, Mr. George H. Robinson said: "We sendhim back crowned with honor, proud of the life of fifty years hedevoted to this nation, and with gratitude for his gifts to us. "

John Ericsson's birthplace in Sweden is marked by a large granitemonument erected in 1867. His father was a mining proprietor, andhis mother an energetic, intellectual, and high-spirited woman. Hisbrother, Nils, one year older than himself, was trained as anengineer, became chief of the construction of the system ofgovernment railways in Sweden, was created a baron, and retired in1862 with a pension larger than any before bestowed upon a Swedishsubject. His sister Caroline, born in 1800, was a girl of unusualbeauty. As a boy John was the wonder of the neighborhood. Themachinery at the mines was to him an endless source of curiosity anddelight. He was constantly trying to make models, even before he hadlearned to read. He had from his own plans constructed a miniaturesaw-mill prior to his tenth birthday, and made numerous drawings ofa complicated character. The graphic account of his youth and earlymanhood which his biographer presents is full of suggestion andinstruction. The boy was too much occupied with his contrivances tojoin in the pastimes of other children. His opportunities wereunusually stimulating. The project of the Göta Canal Company, one ofthe most formidable undertakings of its kind, was revived when hewas about ten years old, his father being appointed one of itsengineers, holding place next to that of the chief of the work. Thisopened a new world of ideas, and the little fellow undertook allmanner of schemes. He was independent of outside assistance. Steeltweezers, borrowed from his mother's dressing-case and ground to apoint, furnished him with a drawing pen, and his compasses were madeof birch-wood with needles inserted at the end of the legs. Lateron, he robbed his mother's sable cloak of the hairs required for twosmall brushes, in order to complete his drawings in appropriatecolors. The clever lad attracted the notice of some of the greatestmechanical draughtsmen in Sweden, who made him drawings to serve asmodels, and taught him many of the principles of the art. Finallythe celebrated engineer, Count Platen, becoming interested, appointed him a cadet in the corps of mechanical engineers; and suchwas his progress in sketching profiles, maps, and drawings for thearchives of the canal company, that in 1816, at the age of thirteen, he was made assistant leveller at the station of Riddarhagen. Thenext year he was employed to set out the work for six hundredoperatives, though he was yet too small to reach the eye-piece ofhis levelling instrument without the aid of a stool carried by anattendant. Thus it will be seen that he was identified almost fromhis cradle with great engineering works. His father died in 1818, and in 1820, when seventeen, he entered the Swedish army as anensign and was rapidly promoted to a lieutenancy. 

The skill of young Ericsson in topographical drawing was so markedthat he was soon summoned to the royal palace to draw maps toillustrate the campaigns of the marshal of the empire. He alsopassed with distinction a competitive examination for an appointmenton the survey of Northern Sweden. This new employment was exacting, and the pay determined by the amount of work accomplished. Mr. Church says: "The young surveyor from the Göta Canal was soindefatigable in his industry and so rapid in execution, that heperformed double duty and was carried on the pay-roll as two personsin order to avoid criticism and charges of favoritism. The resultsof his labors were maps of fifty square miles of territory, stillpreserved in the archives of Stockholm. "

At the age of twenty-one John Ericsson is described as "a handsome, dashing youth, with a cluster of thick, brown, glossy curlsencircling his white, massive forehead. His mouth was delicate butfirm, nose straight, eyes light blue, clear and bright, with aslight expression of sadness, his complexion brilliant with thefreshness and glow of healthy youth. The broad shoulders carriedmost splendidly the proud, erect head. He presented, in short, thevery picture of vigorous manhood. A portrait of him at this age, painted upon ivory for his mother by an English artist named Way, has been preserved. "

Fifteen years later he was in New York, and is thus described bySamuel Risley: "Captain Ericsson all his life was careful of hispersonal appearance; at the time I refer to (1839) he wasexceptional in dress, not dandified, but more in keeping with thepresent morning-call attire than an ordinary day habit. Aclose-fitting black frock surtout coat, well open at the front, withrolling collar, showing velvet vest and a good display ofshirt-front; a fine gold chain hung about his neck, looped at thefirst button-hole of the vest and attached to a watch carried in thefob of the vest. Usually light-colored, well-fitting trousers, light-colored kid gloves, and a beaver hat completed the dress. Tothis add a well-built military figure, about five feet ten andone-half inches in height and well set-up, with broad shoulders andrather large hands and feet; the head well placed and supported by amilitary stock round the neck. Expressive features, blue eyes, andbrown curly hair, fair complexion. His head was of medium size, hismouth well cut, upper lip a little drawn, the jaws large and firmset, conveying an expression of firmness and individual character. Up to the summer of 1842 I was in constant attendance upon thecaptain, being a sort of factotum to him in preparing his models. Atthat time he boarded at the Astor House, where I first met his wife. His manner with strangers was courteous and extremely taking. Heinvariably made friends of high and low alike. With those inimmediate contact in carrying out his work he was very popular. "

Mr. Church, in his biography, devotes three chapters to adelightfully condensed account of Ericsson's career in England, whither he went in 1826 to exhibit his flame-engine. He quicklyformed a partnership with John Braithwaite, a working engineer, andin his new field of activity produced invention after invention insuch rapid succession that the truth reads like a fairy tale. Aninstrument for taking sea-soundings, a hydrostatic weighing-machine, his improvements in the steam-engine--dispensing with hugesmoke-stacks, economizing fuel, using compressed air and theartificial draught--and in surface condensation, were the work ofthis period, during which he also invented the steam fire-engine, which excited great interest in London. The famous battle of thelocomotives in 1829 brought the young man of twenty-six before theEnglish public in a manner never to be forgotten. At that dateStephenson himself dared not say very much about the speed of thelocomotive. Had he ventured to predict that it would reach twentymiles an hour on the railway, he would have been laughed out ofcourt. He cautiously expressed his faith in the possibility ofrunning it ten miles an hour, and multitudes regarded the experimentwith consternation. There was great prejudice then existing inEngland against railroads. It was a mode of conveyance that wouldbring noble and peasant to a common level, and fashion clungtenaciously to its earlier inconveniences, which had at least themerit of being exclusive. 

But in spite of the baleful prophecies concerning the locomotiveengine, the officials of the projected railroad between Liverpooland Manchester, where the cars were expected to be drawn by horses, offered a premium of £500 for the best locomotive capable of drawinga gross weight of twenty tons at the rate of ten miles an hour. Theconditions required a run of seventy miles. Five months were allowedfor building the engines. Ericsson heard of the project only sevenweeks before the appointed time of trial, and at once determined tocompete. He hastily built the "Novelty, " assisted by Braithwaite, and when the exhibition came off his was practically the onlylocomotive which disputed for the supremacy with Stephenson's"Rocket. " But a portion of the railroad had yet been finished; thusthe competing locomotives were compelled to cover their distance bymaking twenty trips back and forth over one and three-quarter milesof track. The excitement was intense. The London _Times_ nextmorning said: "The 'Novelty' was the lightest and most elegantcarriage on the road yesterday, and the velocity with which it movedsurprised and amazed every beholder. It shot along the line at theamazing rate of thirty miles an hour! It seemed, indeed, to fly;presenting one of the most sublime spectacles of human ingenuity andhuman daring the world ever beheld. "

Ericsson had really built a much faster locomotive than Stephenson's"Rocket;" and although it had been constructed with such celeritythat it broke down before the final point was reached, and hethereby lost the prize, yet the superiority of the principleinvolved in it was universally recognized. John Bourn said: "To mostmen the production of such an engine would have constituted anadequate claim to celebrity. In the case of Ericsson, it is only asingle star of the brilliant galaxy with which his shield isspangled. " "We may imagine, " writes Mr. Church, "the excitementfollowing the announcement in the _Times_ concerning the performanceof the 'Novelty, ' for to this engine England's great daily devotedchief attention. " Railroad shares leaped at once to a premium, andexcited groups gathered on 'change to discuss the wonderful event. The pessimists were silenced, and the art of modern railway travelinaugurated. A grand banquet was given in Liverpool to the directorsand officers of the railway and to the competing locomotivebuilders. Toasts and speeches followed; and if Ericsson did notcarry home with him the £500 offered as a prize, he at least madehimself known to all England as one of the rising men of hisprofession. 

Ericsson's long-cherished plan of a caloric engine was realized in1833, and was hailed with astonishment by the scientific world ofLondon. Lectures were delivered on it by Dr. Dionysius Lardner andMichael Faraday, and it was much praised by Dr. Alexander Ure andSir Richard Phillips. In 1836 Ericsson invented and patented thescrew propeller, which revolutionized navigation, and in 1837 builta steam vessel having twin screw propellers, which on trial towedthe American packet-ship Toronto at the rate of five miles an houron the river Thames. In 1838 he constructed the iron screw steamerRobert F. Stockton, which crossed the Atlantic under canvas in 1839, and was afterward employed as a tug-boat on the Delaware River for aquarter of a century. Within ten years Ericsson patented thirtyinventions considered by him of sufficient importance to claim aplace in the list that in 1863 numbered one hundred. 

A notable feature of the admirable work of Mr. Church is theelucidation of the truth, so often overlooked, that events neverspring into being disjoined from antecedents leading to them. Heexplains how the varied achievements of John Ericsson weredeveloped, showing with great force and in imperishable colors thesteps to his successes, and the help the famous engineer derived inlater life from the studies and experiments of his earlier career. Mr. Church, as the literary executor of Ericsson, has had unrivalledopportunities for examining the accumulation of data which throwlight all along the way, and while dealing with the masterlyengineering exploits of his subject, does not forget that he had ahuman side, and presents him with all his hopes and fears andfailures, his aims, his obstacles, his courage, and his habits andeccentricities. Ericsson certainly cherished a very high ideal, andwas free to an unusual extent from mercenary motives. His inventionsdid not always pay; he found this a weary world for those who seebeyond their fellows. Some of his mechanical contrivances in commonuse to-day dated so far back of the memory of any one living thatbefore he died he often learned that he was supposed to have copiedfrom others what he, in fact, originated himself or first broughtinto use. 

The barriers of tradition and prejudice had to be overcome with hisevery new invention. The introduction of steam in any shape to theEnglish navy was sharply opposed. It is interesting to trace theincidents, apparently without connection, which stand in orderlyrelations one to another as essential parts of an intelligentdesign. Ericsson was in America at the critical moment when all theexperiences of his previous life were to be brought into full play;when he was to take part in an enterprise involving the existence ofa nation, the hopes of humanity. He was ready to meet the strain ofa demand to which no other living man was adequate. He was thenfifty-eight years of age, with the constitution and the vital forcesof a man of forty, and such experience in actual accomplishment asfew acquire in the longest span of a lifetime. 

When he received the order of our Government for the Monitor hisplans were already drawn. He had been at work for years perfectinghis system of aquatic attack, originally designed for the protectionof Sweden against foreign aggression, and had in 1854 submitted hisdrawings to the Emperor of France. The story of his proceedings inWashington is familiar to our readers, but in these notable volumesof Mr. Church it is told with a fulness of detail never beforeattempted. The Monitor in all its parts was designed by Ericsson, and, fortunately for the country, he was allowed to superintend itsconstruction. His former plans, however, had to be carefully revisedto meet the novel conditions of life in a submerged structure. Itwas estimated that this iron-clad vessel contained at least fortypatentable contrivances. The entire resources of modern engineeringknowledge were brought to bear upon the solution of the problem ofan impregnable battery, armed with guns of the heaviest calibre thenknown, hull shot-proof from stern to stern, rudder and propellerprotected against the enemy's fire, and above all, having theadvantage of light draught. Ericsson was made responsible for thesuccessful working of his vessel in every respect. The anxiety ofthe Government was such that every stage in the progress of the worktoward completion was watched with restless interest. Ericsson'snerves and sinews seemed to be made of steel. He scarcely took timeto eat or sleep, and he was deluged with a continuous tempest ofcriticism, warning, and advice, from those who knew nothing aboutthe intricacies of science involved in the undertaking. The leasthalting, even trifling delay, confusion of mind, or weakness ofbody, and the story of Hampton Roads might not have been written. 

The Monitor was finished and left the harbor of New York forWashington on the afternoon of March 6, 1862, in tow of a tug, andaccompanied by two naval steamers. Chief Engineer Alban S. Stimers, U. S. N. , who was on the vessel as a passenger, described in aletter, dated March 9, 1862, to Ericsson, the dramatic incidentsattending its arrival at Hampton Roads. "After a stormy passage wefought the Merrimac for more than three hours this forenoon, andsent her back to Norfolk in a sinking condition. Iron-clad againstiron-clad, we manoeuvred about the bay here, and went at each otherwith mutual fairness. I consider that both ships were well fought. We were struck twenty-two times--pilot-house twice, turret ninetimes, deck three times, sides eight times. The only vulnerablepoint was the pilot-house. One of your great logs (nine by twelveinches thick) is broken in two. The shot struck just outside ofwhere the captain had his eye, and disabled him by destroying hisleft eye and temporarily blinding the other. She tried to run usdown and sink us as she did the Cumberland yesterday, but she gotthe worst of it. Her horn passed over our deck, and our sharp, upper-edged rail cut through the light iron shoe upon her stern andwell into her oak. She will not try that again. She gave us atremendous thump, but did not injure us in the least; we were justable to find the point of contact. The turret is a splendidstructure. You were very correct in your estimate of the effect ofshot upon the man on the inside of the turret, when it struck nearhim. Three men were knocked down, of whom I was one. The other twohad to be carried below, but I was not disabled at all, and theothers recovered before the battle was over. Captain Worden(afterward admiral) stationed himself at the pilot-house. Greenefired the guns, and I turned the turret until the captain wasdisabled and was relieved by Greene, when I managed the turretmyself, Master Stoddard having been one of the two stunned men. 

"Captain Ericsson, I congratulate you upon your great success;thousands here this day bless you. I have heard whole crews cheeryou; every man feels that you have saved the nation by furnishing uswith the means to whip an iron-clad frigate that was, until ourarrival, having it all her own way with our most powerful vessels. "

If space permitted, it would be interesting to trace the career ofEricsson in detail after the success of the Monitor. There was animperative demand for armor-clads, and ere long several were builtby the inventor and his associates. Ericsson was never idle. Inconnection with his labors upon war vessels he expended no smallamount of ingenuity on the improvement of heavy guns, his efforts inthis field being directed by a most exhaustive study into thestrength of materials, the operation of explosive forces, and thelaws governing the flight of projectiles. In 1869 he constructed forthe Spanish Government a fleet of thirty steam gunboats, intended toguard Cuba against filibustering parties. In 1881 he devised hislatest war vessel, the Destroyer, the object of which he said was"simply to demonstrate the practicability of submarine artillery, unquestionably the most effective, as well as the cheapest, devicefor protecting the sea-ports of the Union against iron-clad ships. Ido not, " he continued, "seek emoluments, as I am financiallyindependent; but I am anxious to benefit the great and liberalcountry which has enabled me to carry out important works which Ishould not have carried out on a monarchical soil. " Hisinvestigations included computations of the influences which retardthe earth's rotary motion; he erected a "sun motor" in 1883, todevelop the power obtained from the supply of mechanical energy inthe sun, and he contributed numerous valuable papers to variousjournals in America and Europe on scientific, naval, and mechanicalthemes. 

The year in which John Ericsson reached the culmination of his fame, 1862, was the same in which his brother Nils retired from activelife in Sweden. The latter had retained his position on the GötaCanal when his brother left it in 1820, and gradually won his way tofame and fortune. "He was a man of industry and energy, of sterlingintegrity and public spirit, and an excellent organizer; while hisconservative and cautious temperament and his skill in bendingothers to his purposes enabled him to make the most of hisopportunities. " After he received his title he altered the spellingof his name and became Baron Ericson. This change gave great offenceto John, who wrote to Nils: "I can never forget the unpleasantnesscaused me by this annulling of relationship. Possibly your wife hashad her share in it. If so, she will find some day that theblotted-out letter will cost her children half a million. "

Some of the most interesting chapters in the work of Mr. Churchrelate to the personal characteristics of John Ericsson. He wasgenerous to his friends, and his benefactions to Sweden wereconsiderable. The financial side of his affairs from year to yearappears, as well as the record of his failures and successes. It isdifficult to grasp the whole man and present him to the reader inall his many-sided aspects, or to touch upon the variety of hisstudies, endeavors, schemes, and achievements, without danger ofbewilderment. His biographer has done all this, however, in the mostskilful and acceptable manner. 

A list of the honors conferred upon Ericsson would fill one of ourpages, and some of the medals received were very beautiful. He wasdecorated as Knight of the Order of Vasa, which was founded byGustavus III. To reward important service to the nation; he was madeKnight Commander of the Order of the North Star, for promoting thepublic good and useful institutions; a Commander of the Order of St. Olaf, to reward distinction in the arts and sciences; received theGrand Cross of the Order of Naval Merit, with the white badge andstar, from King Alfonso of Spain, which confers personal nobilityand bestowed upon Ericsson the title of "Excellency;" a special goldmedal from the Emperor of Austria, in behalf of science; a goldmedal from the Society of Iron-Masters in Sweden; thanks under theroyal seal and signature from Sweden; joint resolutions of thanksfrom the United States Congress; thanks from the Legislatures of NewYork and of other States; from the Chamber of Commerce; from boardsof trade in many cities; and he was elected to honorary membershipin scientific, historical, literary, religious, and agriculturalinstitutions innumerable. Among them all he took the most pride inhis simple title of captain, and in the diploma of LL. D. Receivedfrom the Wesleyan University in 1862. 

WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON[14]

 [Footnote 14: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON

(1805-1879)

William Lloyd Garrison, whose name is indissolubly connected with theabolition of American slavery, was born in the seaport town ofNewburyport, Mass. , on December 10, 1805. His father, Abijah Garrison, was a sea-captain who came from New Brunswick to settle inNewburyport. Deserting his wife and children while the subject of thissketch was in infancy, his subsequent career is shrouded in mystery. Fanny Lloyd, the mother of William Lloyd Garrison, was a woman ofremarkable character and personal attraction, with an intensereligious nature. Dependent upon her own efforts for the support ofthe family, she cheerfully took up the calling of monthly nurse, andendeavored to rear her children with care and forethought, and withespecial attention to their religious training. Upon her removal toLynn, in 1812, Lloyd was left to the care of Deacon Ezekiel Bartlettand was sent to the Grammar School until, at the age of nine, hejoined his mother in Lynn and was taught shoemaking in the shop ofGamaliel W. Oliver, a kind and excellent member of the Society ofFriends, where his elder brother James was already an apprentice. In1815, Mr. Paul Newhall, a shoe manufacturer of the same town, decidingto establish business in Baltimore, invited Mrs. Garrison and her twoboys to accompany him. There Lloyd was employed as an errand-boy andJames was again apprenticed at shoemaking. Mr. Newhall's ventureproving unsuccessful, Mrs. Garrison was constrained to resume nursingand Lloyd was sent back to Newburyport, his brother betaking himselfto the sea. From Newburyport he was sent to Haverhill to learncabinet-making; but, in spite of kind treatment, he disliked theoccupation and ran away from his master, returning to Newburyport tolive again with his mother's old friend, Deacon Bartlett. In 1818, Ephraim W. Allen, proprietor of the Newburyport _Herald_, acceptedLloyd, then thirteen years of age, as an apprentice and taught him theprinter's trade. Here at once he found a vocation suited to his tastesand became a rapid and accurate compositor. The printing-office provedan excellent school for the young man, developing his literary tasteand ambition. He was fond of reading, and delighted in poetry andfiction. Politics especially attracted him, and at the age of sixteenhe wrote anonymous articles for the columns of the _Herald_. His firstcontribution was over the signature of "An Old Bachelor. " He was anardent Federalist and his political articles attracted attention bytheir forcible reasoning and direct style. Caleb Cushing, then editorof the _Herald_, discovering the lad's abilities, encouraged andbefriended him. In 1826, Mr. Garrison, closing his apprenticeship withthe _Herald_, became editor and publisher of the _Free Press_(Newburyport), within a few months of his majority. 

[Illustration: William Lloyd Garrison. ]

It was to this paper that Whittier made his first poeticalcontributions anonymously, and, upon the discovery of his true name, Mr. Garrison sought him out and encouraged him in his youthfulefforts. 

After a brief existence of six months, the _Free Press_ was sold andMr. Garrison again became a journeyman printer, soon seekingemployment in Boston, where, after various vicissitudes, he wasemployed by Rev. William Collier, a Baptist city missionary, upon_The National Philanthropist_, devoted to the "suppression ofintemperance and kindred vices, " becoming its editor in 1828. Thepaper had the distinction of being the first temperance journal everprinted, and among the earliest evidences of Mr. Garrison's interestin the slavery question was an editorial article by him commentingseverely on the bill passed by the House of Assembly of SouthCarolina to forbid the teaching of reading and writing to thecolored people. 

To Benjamin Lundy, a Quaker, and at that time editor of the _Geniusof Universal Emancipation_, in Baltimore--a paper devoted to thegradual abolition of slavery--belongs the honor of first attemptingto awaken public sentiment on the subject. Upon his visit to Boston, August 7, 1828, he made the acquaintance of Garrison, whose eyes heopened to the iniquity of the slave system. During the same year Mr. Garrison accepted the invitation of a committee of prominentcitizens of Bennington, Vt. , to edit the _Journal of the Times_, aweekly newspaper devoted to the re-election of John Quincy Adamsagainst Andrew Jackson. While started for campaign purposes, the_Journal of the Times_ declared for independence of party andadvocated the suppression of intemperance, the gradual emancipationof the slave, the doctrines of peace, and the so-called Americansystem of protection for fostering native industry. 

Attracted by the anti-slavery utterances of Mr. Garrison, Lundyresolved to invite him to share in the editorship of his paper, walking from Baltimore to Bennington for the purpose. Hisearnestness had the desired effect upon Mr. Garrison, who acceptedhis proffer and relinquished the _Journal of the Times_. Beforegoing to Baltimore Mr. Garrison was invited to address theCongregational societies of Boston on July 4th, at the Park StreetChurch, and took for his theme "Dangers to the Nation. " The poetJohn Pierpont was present and wrote a hymn for the occasion. Theaddress was a stirring denunciation of slavery and a rebuke to thenation for its pretentious devotion to liberty. The speaker wasaccused by a Boston paper of slandering his country and blasphemingthe Declaration of Independence. 

Upon his arrival at Baltimore, Garrison, having convinced himself ofthe necessity of immediate and unconditional emancipation, it wasagreed, inasmuch as Lundy adhered to the methods of gradualemancipation, that each should sign his own editorials. 

Mr. Todd, a Newburyport merchant, having allowed his ship to be usedin the inter-state slave trade between Baltimore and New Orleans, Mr. Garrison faithfully denounced in unmeasured terms hisfellow-townsman, and asserted the equal wickedness of the domesticslave trade with that of the foreign traffic, which, at that time, was in the law considered piracy. Arrested, tried, and convicted oflibel, although the facts were proven, Garrison was incarcerated inthe Baltimore jail, April 17, 1830, in default of a fine of $50 with$50 costs. Undaunted in his captivity, he continued to write hisprotest against slavery and to record in verse his feelings. Hisfamous sonnet, "The Immortal Mind, " was written with pencil upon thewalls of his cell. Liberated at the expiration of forty-nine days, through the generosity of Arthur Tappan, of New York, who paid hisfine, Garrison visited Boston and Newburyport, endeavoring to speakin both places, but the doors of halls and churches were closedagainst him. At last the hall used by a society of avowed infidels, in Boston, to whom Abner Kneeland preached, was opened to Mr. Garrison for three anti-slavery lectures, and among the audience athis first lecture were Samuel J. May, Samuel E. Sewall, and A. Bronson Alcott, who then gave in their adhesion to the cause. Dr. Lyman Beecher was also present but made no sign. 

On January 1, 1831, appeared the first number of _The Liberator_, inBoston, bearing for its motto, "Our Country is the World--OurCountrymen are Mankind. " Mr. Garrison, as editor, was assisted byIsaac Knapp, a fellow-printer from Newburyport, as publisher. Thepaper was issued at No. 6 Merchants' Hall, at the corner of Congressand Water Streets, in the third story, the partners making theirhome in the printing-office. It was this office that Harrison GrayOtis, the mayor, at the request of ex-Senator Hayne, ferreted outthrough his police, describing it as "an obscure hole, " containingthe editor and a negro boy, "his only visible auxiliary, " while hissupporters were "a very few insignificant persons of all colors. "Lowell has thus described it in a different spirit:

 "In a small chamber, friendless and unseen, Toiled o'er his types, one poor, unlearned young man; The place was dark, unfurnitured, and mean, Yet there the freedom of a race began. "

In the initial editorial appeared the famous declaration of Mr. Garrison, "I am in earnest--I will not equivocate--I will notexcuse--I will not retreat a single inch--and I will be heard. "Although its circulation was meagre, the publication of _TheLiberator_ made a tremendous sensation throughout the South, bringing upon its editor abusive and threatening language, and, atthe North, unpopularity and persecution. The Legislature of Georgiaoffered a reward of $5, 000 for his arrest and conviction. 

In 1832, the New England Anti-Slavery Society was organized inBoston, and the campaign for "immediate and unconditionalemancipation" begun. The Colonization Society, which Mr. Garrisonformerly supported but later denounced, became the object of specialattack as an ally of the slave power, and, to counteract itsdesigns, he sailed for England, May 2, 1833, to expose itsproslavery purposes to the English abolitionists. He was cordiallyreceived by Wilberforce, Buxton, Zachary, Macaulay, DanielO'Connell, and their associates in the struggle for West Indiaemancipation, and before he left the kingdom he witnessed thepassage of the Emancipation Act, and was present at the funeral ofWilberforce, in Westminster Abbey. Returning from his successfulmission abroad he narrowly escaped the hands of a New York mob onlanding upon his native soil. 

In December, 1833, the American Anti-Slavery Society was formed, inPhiladelphia, and Mr. Garrison drew up its famous Declaration ofSentiments, which numbered among its signers many of the men andwomen destined to be distinguished in the anti-slavery cause, amongwhom was the poet Whittier. 

On September 4, 1834, Mr. Garrison was married to Miss Helen ElizaBenson, of Brooklyn, Conn. ; a fortunate and happy union. 

In 1835, the eminent English orator, George Thompson, came byinvitation to the United States to assist in the emancipation of theAmerican, as he had of the West Indian, slave. The announcementthat he would speak at a meeting of the Ladies' Anti-SlaverySociety, held in Boston, October 21st, of the same year, was theoccasion of a mob composed of wealthy and respectable citizens ofBoston who aimed to suppress free speech and tar and feather Mr. Thompson. He was, however, prevented from attending by his friends, but the fury of the mob fell upon Mr. Garrison, who was seized andled through the streets with a rope around his body, from whichposition he was rescued through the efforts of Mayor Lyman andimprisoned for safety in the Leverett Street jail. This outragecreated new friends and gave fresh impetus to the abolitionmovement. 

In 1840 Mr. Garrison again visited England as a delegate of theWorld's Anti-Slavery Convention in London, in which body, however, he declined to sit, because the women who were his fellow-delegatesfrom America were excluded. 

Occupied continuously with the care of _The Liberator_ and inlecturing, Mr. Garrison led an intensely active life, not confininghimself alone to the anti-slavery reform but embracing among otherreforms those of temperance, non-resistance, women's rights, andreligious freedom. For, while educated by his mother in the stricttenets of the Baptist faith, he early experienced a change oftheological views and cast off sectarian bonds. _The Liberator_ wasused for the expression of his individual beliefs and was not theorgan of any society. 

In 1846, the Free Church of Scotland having sent emissaries to theUnited States to collect funds from the slaveholders, Mr. Garrisonagain went to England to urge the Church to return the money thuscontributed, and, in company with George Thompson, FrederickDouglass, Henry C. Wright and others, agitated the questionthroughout Scotland. 

Convinced that the constitutional compact of the North with theSouth to guard and protect slavery was immoral and unjust, in 1843Mr. Garrison raised the banner of No Union with Slave-Holders, andadvocated the dissolution of the Union for the sake of freedom, astep which added fresh fuel to the flames of persecution andincurred the loss of many lukewarm adherents. 

In 1850, the apostasy of Daniel Webster and the passage of theFugitive Slave Law increased the national ferment. The same yearwitnessed the famous Rynder's mob, in New York, and the anti-slaverymeeting at the Tabernacle, at which Mr. Garrison spoke, wasviolently broken up. 

The abolition movement had now assumed formidable proportions, dominating the national parties and dictating issues. The Whig partyfell to pieces in consequence, and to it succeeded the Republicanparty, with Sumner, Seward, Wilson, Giddings, and other earnest menas leaders. Meanwhile Harriet Beecher Stowe, by her famous novel, "Uncle Tom's Cabin, " had given a vivid picture of the wrongs ofAmerican slavery to the world. The "irrepressible conflict" was nowrapidly tending to its crisis, and, on the election of AbrahamLincoln to the Presidency by the Republican party, in 1860, thesignal for civil war was given, and, in 1861, the struggle of armsinaugurated by the attack on Fort Sumter replaced the peacefulcrusade of the abolitionists. 

The moral agitation of thirty years had produced its legitimateresults, and when, in 1863, the President promulgated theemancipation proclamation the anti-slavery chapter was closed. TheUnion, which heretofore had been paramount to liberty, was nowsubordinated to it, and Mr. Garrison's antagonism necessarily ceasedwith the new amendment to the Constitution. He had been accustomedto denounce that instrument as a "covenant with death and anagreement with hell, " but, as he expressed it, he had "neverexpected to see Death and Hell secede. " Foreseeing the inevitableconsequence of the war, he gave heartily his moral support to theGovernment in the struggle between it and the slave power. Hisnon-resistance principles and abhorrence of war in no way diminishedhis interest in the great conflict, and his sympathies of necessitywere with the soldiers of freedom. His eldest son, George ThompsonGarrison, not sharing his father's scruples, enlisted in theFifty-fifth Colored Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers, attainingthe rank of captain. 

The renomination of Lincoln for a second term, in 1864, developed abreach in the ranks of the old abolitionists, Mr. Garrison and hisadherents supporting Lincoln, and others, under the lead of WendellPhillips, advocating the choice of General Frémont. The lattercandidate, however, withdrew from the field before the election. 

In April, 1865, Mr. Garrison, with his English friend GeorgeThompson, was invited by the Government to be present as its guestat the ceremony of raising the Stars and Stripes above thesurrendered Fort Sumter, and was received at Charleston with greatenthusiasm by the emancipated slaves. The news of PresidentLincoln's assassination hastened the return of the party to theNorth. 

The practical extermination of the slave system by the adoption ofthe 13th Amendment convinced Mr. Garrison that the purpose of theAnti-Slavery Society and of _The Liberator_ had been accomplished. He therefore withdrew from one and discontinued the other. Afterthirty-five years of a stormy and precarious existence the lastnumber of _The Liberator_ was issued December 29, 1865. "Nothingcould have been more in keeping with the uniform wisdom of youranti-slavery leadership than the time you chose for resigning it, "wrote Lowell to Mr. Garrison a year later. 

The recognition of the pioneer's unselfish service thereupon tookshape in a national testimonial reaching a sum exceeding thirtythousand dollars, thenceforth lifting his life above the pecuniarycares which had so long weighed upon it. A domestic grief in theshape of a paralytic shock to his faithful wife occurred inDecember, 1863, compelling a change of home from the city to anattractive suburban house in Roxbury, known as Rockledge. 

Although his great life-work was finished, Mr. Garrison abated noactivity in the various reforms in which he had enlisted. Both withvoice and pen he reached a wider and more attentive public, pleadingfor justice to the freedman, for the legal emancipation of women, the right of the Chinese to free immigration and Christiantreatment, freedom of trade (for he early eschewed his youthfulbelief in the protective system), and for kindred causes. 

Visiting England for the fourth time in 1867, a public breakfast wasgiven in Mr. Garrison's honor at St. James's Hall, June 29th. JohnBright presided, and among the addresses of welcome were those ofEarl Russell, the Duke of Argyll, John Stuart Mill, George Thompson, and W. Vernon Harcourt. Later the freedom of the city of Edinburghwas conferred upon the American abolitionist, and in August heattended the International Anti-Slavery Conference at Paris, representing the American Freedman's Union Commission, and meetingLaboulaye, Cochin, and other eminent Frenchmen. 

The troubled period of reconstruction, involving the defence of thefreedmen's rights, found no more interested observer and participantthan Mr. Garrison. The former hostile treatment which had been metedout to him by press and party was of the past, and, like Lincoln, "He heard the hisses change to cheers, The taunts to tribute, the abuse to praise, And took both in the same unwavering mood. "

Unique among reformers, he received in life the reverence thatusually reveals itself in post-mortem honors which indicate the lateawakening of public consciousness and suggest the pathos of theirdelay. 

The felicities of domestic life were his in more than ordinarymeasure, and "honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, " made hisclosing years as serene as his opening career had been stormy. Occasional ailments reminded him of advancing age, but histemperamental cheerfulness and faith in human progress never forsookhim. 

The death of his dear wife, in 1876, was a visible blow to him, andin the next year, for physical and mental recuperation, he visitedEngland again for the last time, with his son Francis, enjoying adelightful reunion with old friends and making new ones, as was hiswont. 

In May, 1879, during a visit to his daughter in New York, hebreathed his last on the 24th of the month, with all his childrenabout him. He left four sons, named respectively, George Thompson, William Lloyd, Wendell Phillips, and Francis Jackson, and an onlydaughter, Helen Francis, the wife of Henry Villard. Two others, adaughter and a son, died at an early age. 

In 1885, Mr. Garrison's biography, written by his sons WendellPhillips and Francis Jackson, was published by the Century Company, in four volumes, octavo. They contain not only the personal detailsof a famous career, but a careful history of the abolition struggle. To them the future historian must look for the most faithful pictureof the anti-slavery times and their leader. 

A bronze statue of heroic size, executed by Olin L. Warner, of NewYork, representing Mr. Garrison in a sitting posture, was presentedto the city of Boston by several eminent citizens, in 1886, and isplaced on Commonwealth Avenue, opposite the Hotel Vendome. 

Mr. Garrison's calm estimate of himself has been preserved and mayfitly conclude this sketch:

"The truth is, he who commences any reform which at last becomes oneof transcendent importance and is crowned with victory, is alwaysill-judged and unfairly estimated. At the outset he is looked uponwith contempt, and treated in the most opprobrious manner, as a wildfanatic or a dangerous disorganizer. In due time the cause grows andadvances to its sure triumph; and in proportion as it nears thegoal, the popular estimate of his character changes, till finallyexcessive panegyric is substituted for outrageous abuse. The praise, on the one hand, and the defamation on the other, are equallyunmerited. In the clear light of reason, it will be seen that hesimply stood up to discharge a duty which he owed to his God, to hisfellow-men, to the land of his nativity. "

[Signature: William Lloyd Garrison. ]

ELISHA KENT KANE[15]

 [Footnote 15: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By General A. W. GREELY

(1820-1857)

[Illustration: Elisha Kent Kane. ]

Elisha Kent Kane, son of Judge John K. Kane, was born inPhiladelphia, February 3, 1820. In his youth he displayed thosequalifications of ceaseless activity, daring adventure, and strongpersonal courage which characterized his mature manhood. Inclined toall efforts involving physical hardships and contact with nature, his early education was devoted to civil engineering and suchnatural sciences as chemistry, geography, geology, and mineralogy. Unfortunately, in his sixteenth year, chronic and functional heartdisease developed, which intermittently affected him through lifeand deterred him from the profession of an engineer. Applyinghimself to medicine, he graduated therein in 1842 at the Universityof Pennsylvania, in the meantime having served as a residentphysician of the Pennsylvania Hospital. His inaugural medicalthesis, based on personal experiments and observations, gave him areputation which augured professional prominence. In 1843 he wasappointed physician to the United States embassy to China, underCaleb Cushing, who was charged with the negotiation of a treaty withthat country. At the way ports and during the tedious intervals ofthe treaty negotiations, Kane lost no opportunity of travel andadventure. With Baron Löe he visited the Philippine Islands and thevolcano of Tael. Not content with the usual point of view, anddespite the protestations of the native guides, he was lowered twohundred feet in the crater, whence he scrambled downward to thesmoking sulphur lake and dipped his specimen bottles into itssteaming waters. In his ascent the loose, heated ashes charred hisboots and gave way under his feet, the sulphur vapors nearlyasphyxiated him, he fell repeatedly, and was barely able to tie thebamboo rope around him. Drawn up in an exhausted condition, andcarried to a neighboring hermitage, he barely escaped violence atthe hands of the offended natives, who considered his rash feat asacrilege. 

Resigning his appointment with the legation, Kane establishedhimself as a physician at Whampoa, on the Canton River, whereillness shortly broke up his professional practice. Fortunately forhis future fame he was unsuccessful in his application to theSpanish Government for permission to practise medicine at Manilla, and Kane returned to the United States by the way of Singapore, India, Egypt, and Europe, his journey marked by adventure anddanger. In these, as in all other sea voyages, he sufferedexcessively from sea-sickness, which required all of his indomitablewill to endure with equanimity. 

In 1846 he was commissioned assistant surgeon in the United StatesNavy; his first sea duty took him to the west coast of Africa, wherecoast fever invalided him within ten months. His desire for activeservice was so great that before his health was re-established heobtained orders from the Secretary of the Navy to proceed tohead-quarters of the army, then in the City of Mexico, for duty inconnection with the collection of data relative to field hospitalsand surgical statistics. Here his activity and daring resulted inhis being wounded in a guerilla skirmish. 

Assigned temporarily to a surveying vessel, circumstances soondetermined Kane's career and gave full scope to his enthusiasticenergies, and insured his future fame. The appeals of Lady Franklin, the recommendations of President Taylor, and the generosity of HenryGrinnell, had culminated in the organization of a search expeditionfor Franklin in the Arctic regions. It was provided that the vesselsshould be manned by volunteers from the Navy, and among thoseoffering their services for this mission of humanity none was moreimportunate than Kane. Persistent efforts brought him orders forthis fateful voyage while bathing in the tepid waters of the Gulf ofMexico, and ten days later he sailed from New York for the icywastes of the North as surgeon of De Haven's flag-ship, the Advance. This search, known in Arctic history as the First GrinnellExpedition, was made under a joint resolution of the Congress of theUnited States, dated May 2, 1850, "to accept and attach to the Navytwo vessels offered by Henry Grinnell, Esq. , to be sent to theArctic seas in search of Sir John Franklin and his companions. " Twovery small sailing brigs constituted the fleet, the flag-shipAdvance, commanded by De Haven, an officer of Antarctic experienceunder Wilkes, and the Rescue, under Master Griffin; the entire partynumbered thirty-three officers and men. 

Their objective point was Lancaster Sound and its westwardextension, Barrow Strait, whence either or both Wellington Channeland Cape Walker were to be visited. The squadron passed safelythrough Davis Strait, and skirting the dreaded land-ice of MelvilleBay, reached Cape York after three weeks of constant and dangerousstruggle with the heavy ice, which nearly destroyed the Rescue, borne almost on her beam-ends by the enormous pressure from a movingice-pack. De Haven fell in with the English squadrons on the sameerrand, August 19, 1850, and, entering Lancaster Sound with hisBritish consorts, devoted his energies to the search in hand. Griffin, of the Rescue, shared with Captain Ommaney, R. N. , thehonors of the discovery, at Beechy island, of the wintering-place ofFranklin's squadron in 1845-46. Later three graves of members ofFranklin's party were found, and numerous evidences of the goodcondition and activity of the expedition during that winter. Aboutthree weeks later, on September 10, 1850, De Haven concluded thatthe position attained was not sufficiently advantageous to justifyhis wintering, and so decided to return to the United States. Unfortunately, strong gales and very cold weather preventedimmediate action, and in a few days both brigs were frozen immovablyin an enormous ice-pack, where they were destined to drifthelplessly to and fro at the mercy of the winds and currents formany months. 

Beset in Wellington Channel, to the north of Beechy Island, theAmerican squadron first found itself drifting slowly, but withalarming steadiness, to the north, into waters and along coasts thathad, as far as they then knew, never been visited. The drift carriedthe Advance to latitude 75° 25' north, longitude 91° 31' west, andon September 22d they discovered new land, to which De Haven gavethe merited name of Grinnell. It proved to be an integral part ofNorth Devon, of which it was the northwestern extension. Every fewdays there was a partial breaking up of the pack and consequentdanger of destruction. On one occasion, says Kane: "We are liftedbodily eighteen inches out of water. The hummocks are reared uparound the ship, so as to rise a couple of feet above our bulwarks, five feet above our deck. They are very often ten and twelve feethigh, and threaten to overwhelm us. Add to this, darkness, snow, cold, and the absolute destitution of surrounding shores. " Thetemperature fell below zero and the ships seemed destined to winterin Wellington Channel, but fortunately a strong northwest gale, inconjunction with heavy tides, disintegrated the main pack and setships, ice and all, southward into Barrow Strait. Here they fellunder the action of a southeasterly current and, drifting allwinter, passed slowly through Lancaster Sound into Baffin Bay, wherethe opening polar summer found them yet fast in the ice, from whichthe two brigs were freed off Cape Walsingham, June 5, 1851, afterdrifting in eight and a half months a distance of ten hundred andfifty miles. It is impossible to adequately describe their physicaldiscomforts and dangers, the mental depression of the sunlessmidwinter of eight weeks, and the even harder experiences of theArctic spring-tide, when excessive cold and increasing lassitudemade steady inroads on their impaired constitutions. Kane tells usthey were continually harassed by uncertainties as to their ultimatefate. Yesterday the unbroken floe, stretching as far as the eyecould reach, seemed so firm and stable as to insure months of quiet, uninterrupted life. Today, the groaning, uneasy pack, yielding to anunseen power, split and cracked in all directions, throwing up hugemasses of solid ice, that threatened to destroy instantly the ship, and occasionally opened in wide cracks through which rushed the opensea. Indeed, the conditions were so critical and the ice-movementsso rapid, that the entire party, within the brief space oftwenty-four hours, had four times made ready to abandon theirvessels. 

In March the cold became intense, and for a week it averagedfifty-three degrees below the freezing-point. Scurvy assailed allbut five of the crew, and De Haven was so ill that all his dutiesdevolved on Griffin, who heroically bore up under disease and themental and moral responsibilities that the situation forced on him. In all his efforts Griffin had no more effective coadjutor than thefleet-surgeon, Kane. Whether acting as a medical officer, treatingskilfully the diseased crew; as a hunter, supplementing their scantystock of anti-scorbutic food with the fresh meat of the seal; or asa man, devising means of amusement and stimulating them to mentaland physical exertions, Kane incessantly displayed such qualities ofcheerfulness, activity, and ingenuity as tended to dispel the pallof despair that sometimes enveloped the whole expedition. 

When release from the ice permitted the voyage to be renewed, DeHaven decided to refit in the Greenland ports and again return toLancaster Sound; fortunately, as the squadron was not fitted for asecond year's work, the ice in Melville Bay was such as to preventimmediate passage, and so they turned southward, reaching the UnitedStates on September 30, 1851. 

Such desperate experiences as those involved in the midwinter driftof the Advance, would have deterred most men for a time from asecond voyage, but with Kane the stimulus to future work apparentlyincreased with every league that he sailed southward. The ship washardly in port before he initiated a plan for another expedition inthe spring of 1852. This failing he wrote Lady Franklin in May, offering to go with Captain Penny, or any good sailing-master, togive his services without pay, and pledging himself to go to workand raise funds. 

Finding it impossible to go with any British expedition, he turnedhis entire efforts to organizing another from America. His chivalricenthusiasm enlisted the sympathies and active support of HenryGrinnell and George Peabody, the first loaning the ship and thelatter contributing $10, 000 for general expenses. The United Statesagain aided, not only putting Kane on sea-pay, but also attached tenmen of the Navy, under government pay. Instruments, provisions, etc. , were likewise supplied by the Secretary of the Navy, and aidin other directions was afforded by the Smithsonian Institution, theNaval Observatory, and other scientific associations. At thisjuncture the discoveries of Captain Inglefield, R. N. , in SmithSound, afforded to Kane a new route for his activities. The scheme, as far as the search for Franklin was concerned, was well-meaning, but none the less fallacious and illogical. Kane was personallycognizant of the fact that Franklin had gone into Lancaster Sound, and had wintered in 1845-46 at Beechy Island, plainly following thedirect and positive orders of the Admiralty, that he should pushsouthward from Cape Walker to the neighborhood of Behring Strait. Moreover, the last mail ever received from the Franklin expeditioncontained a letter from Captain Fitz-James, in which he stated thatFranklin had shown him the orders, expressed his disbelief in anopen sea to the north, and had given "a pleasant account of hisexpectations of being able to get through the ice on the north coastof America. "

A search for Franklin by the way of Smith Sound, seventeen degreesof longitude and four degrees of latitude to the north and east ofhis last known position, was to assume not only that Franklin haddisobeyed the strict letter of his instructions, but had alsoabandoned his voyage after having accomplished one-third of thedistance from Greenland to Behring Strait. 

As the initiator and inspirer of the expedition, Kane was thenatural head of it, but there were difficulties in the way. 

The assignment of a surgeon to the command of a naval expedition wasunprecedented; but somehow Kane succeeded in overcoming even thetime-honored observances of the Navy, and was placed in command by aformal order of the Secretary of the Navy in November, 1852. 

Kane repeatedly set forth his belief in an open Polar sea, andannounced his expectation of reaching it. The expedition was notalone a proposed search for Franklin, but especially contemplatedthe continuation to the northward of the discoveries made in 1851 byCaptain Inglefield, on the west coast of Greenland. Kane declaredhis intention of reaching "its most northern attainable point, andthence pressing on toward the Pole as far as boats or sleds couldcarry us, examine the coast lines for vestiges of the lost party, "and "seeking the _open sea_ . . . Launch our little boats, and embarkupon its waters. "

On May 30, 1853, the expedition left New York in the sailing brigAdvance, there being seventeen members all told. The vessel wasstanch, well-fitted, and suitable, the scientific instrumentssatisfactory, but the provisions were illy chosen for Arcticservice, and the equipment in many respects inadequate or deficient. The Greenland ports supplied skin-clothing, dogs, and Eskimodog-drivers; the latter being destined to play an important part inestablishing harmonious relations with the Etah natives. On reachingMelville Bay, Kane decided to take the middle passage, directthrough the dreaded pack--a most venturesome route for asailing-vessel. Favored by an off-shore gale, the Advance escapedwith the loss of a whaleboat, and emerged into the open sea nearCape York, known as the North Water. Stopped by the ice, Kane wiselydecided to cache his metallic life-boat, filled with boat-stores, onLittleton Island, so as to secure his retreat, since, as he says:"My mind was made up from the first that we are to force our way tothe north as far as the elements will let us. " The ice opening withthe tide, Kane rounded Cape Hatherton and was now in Kane Sea; butthe Advance was immediately driven into a cove for shelter. At thefirst opportunity sail was again made and a short distance gained tothe east-northeast, when a violent gale nearly wrecked her. Repeatedefforts to work the vessel to the eastward, along a lee coast, destroyed fittings and boat, and were so fruitful in danger that onAugust 26th seven out of his eight officers addressed Kane inwriting, to the effect "that a further progress to the North wasimpossible, and [they] were in favor of returning southward towinter. " Unfortunately, Kane was not "able conscientiously to takethe same view, " as such retreat would have left him in a lessfavorable situation to pursue his explorations. Two weeks longer thebrig was warped to the east during high water, whenever she was notjammed by huge floes against the rugged coast; but at low water thebrig grounded and was daily in danger of total destruction. Finally, on September 9th, she was put in winter-quarters in 78° 37' N. , 71°14' W. , in Rensselaer Harbor, which, says Kane, "we were fated neverto leave together--a long resting-place to her, for the same ice isround her still. " Winter now advanced with startling rapidity andexcessive severity; freezing temperatures now permanently obtained, the water-fowl were gone, and the scanty vegetation blighted. Allwere busy, some constructing a building for magnetic andmeteorological observations, others making journeys along theeastern coast. Kane visited the high land adjoining Mary MinturnRiver, some fifty miles away, whence he could see Washington Land inthe vicinity of Cape Constitution. Hayes and Wilson journeyed on theinland ice, while McGary with six others made three caches on thecoast, the farthest being under the face of the largest of allArctic glaciers, now known by the name of Humboldt. The winterproved to be unusually cold, the temperature, from December to Marchinclusive, averaging fifty-four degrees below the freezing-point ofwater. Most fortunately the men remained in health, but Kane grievedover the loss of his dogs, only a dozen surviving out of theoriginal eighty. 

In this contingency Kane decided to put his men in the field, andafter two weeks of excessive cold, the temperature averagingseventy-seven degrees below freezing, a party was sent out while themercury was yet frozen. Their orders were to reach Washington Land, about one hundred miles distant across the sea-ice. It soon becameevident to Brooks, the commander of the party, that the journey wasimpossible of execution, and after eight marches, in which less thanforty miles were traversed, he turned back on March 29, 1854. Thecold that day was intense, about ninety degrees below freezing, andthe next morning four men were frozen so badly that they could notwalk. Only four men were left for work. The distance to the brig wasthirty miles, while the intervening ice was so rough that they couldnot drag their disabled comrades. Hickey volunteered to remain, while Sontag, Ohlsen, and Petersen should go to the brig for help. The three men finally reached the Advance, but they were sophysically exhausted and in such mental condition that they couldnot even indicate in what direction they had left their comrades. 

Kane appreciated the gravity of the situation and the necessity ofprompt measures. A relief party was at once started, which Kane ledhimself, despite his impaired health, physical weakness, and generalunfitness for such a desperate journey; as always, he spared nothimself when danger threatened. Ohlsen, being the clearest-headed ofthe sledgemen, was put in a sleeping-bag and dragged on a sledge asa guide. 

Eighteen hours' travel were without tangible result; Kane faintedtwice on the snow; his stoutest men were seized with trembling fits, and as yet no signs of the missing party. Fortunately Kane had takenthe Eskimo, Hans Hendrik, whose keen eye discovered the track thatled to the tent of the frozen men. They were alive, but crippledbeyond the possibility of marching. The weather remained fine or allwould have perished, and as it was, Hayes, the surgeon, in hisreport of their condition on reaching the brig, said: "I wasstartled by their ghastly appearance. When I hailed them they met meonly with a vacant, wild stare. They were to a man delirious. " Ofthe eight men only one returned sound; two shortly died, two otherssuffered amputations, and three escaped with temporary disabilities. 

Three weeks later, on April 26th, Kane set out on what, to use hisown words, "was to be the crowning expedition of the campaign, toattain the Ultima Thule of the Greenland shore. " Impressed with theimpracticability of a direct journey across the main ice-pack, hedecided to follow the shore-line, five men dragging a sledge, whileKane and Godfrey travelled by dog-team. He had been led by hisresolute spirit to overestimate the physical strength of his men andhimself, and the party broke down before it had even approached theHumboldt Glacier. Their enthusiastic leader was stricken withfainting spells and rigidity of limbs, but Kane would not admit hisillness to be more than temporary, and bidding the men strap him onthe sledge, proceeded onward. His diminished physical powers nowbecame evident through the freezing of his rigid and swollen limbs. Delirious and fainting at the end of the march, he was carried in analmost insensible condition to his tent, when his men wisely tookthe matter in their own hands and started back for the brig. Ninedays later, through forced marches and heroic efforts of hissledge-mates, themselves partially disabled, Kane was carried onboard the Advance fluctuating between life and death. Hardlyconscious, his mind clouded, and his swollen features barelyrecognizable, his general condition was such that the surgeonregarded his ultimate recovery as nearly hopeless. 

While Kane's recuperative powers were simply marvellous, yet he didnot recover sufficiently to make another journey that spring. Inthis extremity he turned to his surgeon, Israel I. Hayes, whovolunteered to explore the unknown shores of Grinnell Land, whichlay in sight to the west of Smith Sound. With the seaman Godfrey asa companion and a dog-team as the means of transportation, Hayesstruggled through the almost impassable floes and bergs of the mainstrait and finally attained Cape Hayes, on the western coast, inabout 79° 45' N. Latitude. The return journey to the Advance waspossible only by abandoning everything that in the slightest degreeimpeded the progress of the exhausted men and famishing dogs. 

This success caused Kane to make one more effort to reach thehitherto inaccessible Washington Land, and for this purpose heplaced all his means at the disposal of one of his seamen, WilliamMorton. A supporting party accompanied Morton to Humboldt Glacier, whence he proceeded with Eskimo Hans Hendrik and a dog-team on theadvance journey. Their track lay over the sea-ice, about five milesfrom, and parallel with, the face of the glacier. Five days tookthem to the new land to the north, and three days later, June 24, 1854, Morton reached alone an impassable headland, CapeConstitution. From the highest attainable elevation Morton found hisview completely cut off to the northeast, but between the west andnorth he could see the southeastern half of Kennedy's Channel as farnorth as Mount Ross, 80° 58' N. He says "Not a speck of ice was tobe seen as far as I could observe; the sea was open, the swell camefrom the northward . . . And the surf broke in on the rocks below inregular breakers. " Morton described accurately the generallandscape, but he was an incompetent astronomical observer, and hisestimates of distances were excessive. The farthest point wascharted nearly a hundred miles north of its true position, whileCape Constitution was placed 31 miles too far north by Morton and 52geographic miles by Kane, who "corrected" Morton's observations by aseries of erroneous bearings. Morton's general account of hisexplorations has been confirmed by Hans Hendrik in his Memoirwritten some years since in Eskimo. 

In the meantime the Etah Eskimo, natives of Prudhoe land, haddiscovered the brig, and through the interpreter, Hans Hendrik, promptly established friendly relations with Kane. It may be saidthat the expedition owed its final safety to these natives; theirsupplies of fresh meat checked scurvy, and later their dog teamsrendered retreat possible. Slight misunderstandings, not always thefault of the natives, naturally occurred, but the Eskimo werehonest, humane, and willing, and never committed a hostile act. 

The summer of 1854 justified the expressed fears of Kane's officers, for it passed with the ice yet unbroken in Rensselaer Harbor. It wasevident in July that the brig would never be freed from the ice, andin this critical situation, Kane, taking five men in a whaleboat, attempted to reach Beechy Island, several hundred miles to thesouthwest, whence he expected to obtain succor from the Englishsearching squadron. The unfavorable condition of the ice in SmithSound caused the failure of this attempt, and, yet worse, encouragedthe idea of dividing the party; an idea that culminated in thewell-known "Arctic Boat Journey, " as Dr. Hayes termed it. DespiteKane's futile experiences in July, the majority of the partymaintained that a boat journey to Upernavik was both practicable andadvisable. Confronted by this attitude of the expeditionary force, Kane assembled them, set forth the dangers of such an attempt, andvehemently urged them to abandon the project, which the lateness ofthe season and the unfavorable ice conditions rendered mostimprobable of success. Finally he granted the privilege ofunfettered action to such as believed the journey practicable, stipulating only that those leaving the vessel should renounce, inwriting, all claims upon the expedition and should elect a leader. Nine elected to go, eight to remain. Kane displayed a magnanimousspirit, equipping them most liberally, and assuring them, inwriting, that the brig should be ever open should disaster overtakethem. The boat journey was a failure, and Kane bade them welcomewhen, early in December, he learned that the party, some two hundredmiles distant and in imminent danger of perishing by starvation, wasdesirous of returning to the Advance. Kane promptly sent supplies tothe suffering men, and, on December 12th, the entire crew was onceagain upon the brig. 

The winter of 1854-5 passed wretchedly; the physical condition ofthe party steadily deteriorated; failing fuel necessitated theburning of the upper woodwork of the brig; their food was reduced toordinary marine stores, and game failed equally to the hunters ofthe Advance and the persistent efforts of the Etah natives on theice-clad land and in the frozen sea. In addition scurvy attacked thecrew; Hayes lost a portion of his frozen foot, and hardly a man ofthe crew remained fit for duty. The necessity of abandoning the brigand retreating by boat to Upernavik, Danish Greenland, was nowforced upon Kane's mind. The co-operation of the natives greatlyfacilitated, if it did not alone render possible, the transportationof their provisions, boats, and stores to Cape Alexander. Kane saysthe Eskimo "brought daily supplies of birds, assisted in carryingboat stores, and invariably exhibited the kindest feelings andstrictest honesty. "

Bidding farewell to the natives at Cape Alexander on June 15, 1855, Cape York was passed, the land ice of Melville Bay followed, and thenorthern coast of Danish Greenland reached in forty-seven days. Inthe meantime a relief squadron under command of LieutenantHartstene, United States Navy, had visited Smith Sound, where thenatives informed him of Kane's journey southward. Taken on board thereturning flag-ship at Disco, Kane and his men reached New York, October 11, 1855. 

Kane had hardly reached home when it became evident that hisundermined constitution could not longer withstand the inroads of adisease which for twenty years had afflicted him. Change of climatewas tried without avail, and he died at Havana, Cuba, February 16, 1857, at the early age of thirty-seven. 

Between his first and second voyages Kane had become deeplyinterested in Margaretta Fox, one of the well-known spiritualists, who later published their correspondence under the title of "TheLove Life of Dr. Kane. " Their relations, it is believed, resulted ina secret marriage shortly before Kane's death. 

The rare literary skill shown in the account of Kane's expeditionhas charmed millions of readers with its graphic account of thelabors, hardships, and privations of Kane and his men. It shouldnot, however, be considered that this expedition merits attentionalone from its tales of suffering and bravery, for none other ofthat generation contributed so materially to a correct knowledge ofthe Arctic regions. In ethnology it gave the first full account ofthe Etah Eskimo, the northernmost inhabitants of the world; innatural history its data as to the flora and fauna of the isolatedand ice-surrounded extremity of western Greenland were original, and have been to this day but scantily supplemented; in physicalsciences, the magnetic, tidal, and climatic observations remainedfor twenty years the most important series pertaining to the Arcticregions. Kane's voyage not only extended geographically Inglefield'sdiscoveries a hundred miles to the northward, but it also opened upa practical and safe route for Arctic exploration, which has beenmore fruitful of successful results than any other. 

Kane was a man of generous impulses, enthusiastic ideals, and kindlyheart. His chivalric nature, indomitable will, and great courageoften impelled him to hazardous enterprises; but he stands out inthis modern age as an unselfish character, willing to bravehardships and risk his own life on a vague possibility of rescuingFranklin and his companions. 

[Signature: A. W. Greely. ]

FERDINAND DE LESSEPS[16]

 [Footnote 16: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By CLARENCE COOK

(1805-1894)

[Illustration: Ferdinand de Lesseps. ]

If, as Dante sings: "There is no greater grief than in a time ofmisery to remember happier days, " there are few persons in our timewho can testify more feelingly to the truth of the poet's words thanFerdinand de Lesseps. For many years he was a bright-shining, sympathetic figure among those who lead in the van of our materialprogress; and the accomplishment, by his initiative and energy, ofthe long dream of the Suez Canal, made him the hero, not of his ownnation alone, but of all the civilized world; honors were heapedupon him, and acclamations greeted him on every side. His namebecame a household word. 

A few years later, and all is changed. At the advanced age ofeighty-eight, Ferdinand de Lesseps is in deep disgrace. Charged withthe chief responsibility for the ruin brought about by the failureof another of his great enterprises--the Panama Canal--he has beencondemned by the tribunal to pay a huge fine, and has only beensaved from the shame of actual imprisonment by the knowledge of hisjudges that, in his feeble state of health, imprisonment wouldspeedily be fatal. As at the ceremonies on the occasion of theopening of the Suez Canal, De Lesseps was compared to Columbus, theopener of a way to the new world, so we may see the close of thegreat discoverer's career reflected in the tragic ending of thesplendid fortunes of De Lesseps. 

Ferdinand de Lesseps was the son of a French gentleman who, fiftyyears since, was in the Consular service of France in Egypt. He wasborn at Versailles in 1805, and after receiving the usual educationgiven to youth of his class, he was early inducted into themysteries of diplomatic life, where his father's services andinfluence naturally opened a way for him. In 1833, whentwenty-eight, he was made consul at Cairo, and remained at that postfor over ten years, during which time he laid the foundations forthat knowledge of all matters connected with Egyptian affairs whichwas to prove so valuable to him and to the world a few years later. 

In 1842, De Lesseps was transferred from Cairo to Spain, and wasmade consul at Barcelona. Spain was at this time much disturbed byfactional quarrels and jealousies, partly due to disputed claims tothe succession to the throne, and partly to the angry rivalries ofpolitical leaders, each eager to save the country by his particularnostrum. In the dynastic struggle, Queen Christina, made regentafter the death of her husband, Ferdinand VII. , had been exiled toFrance, and General Espartero, who at first had stood for her cause, now ruled as regent in her place. In 1843, the year after thearrival of De Lesseps, the city of Barcelona, which in common withmany other places had refused to support Espartero, openly revolted, and was besieged and bombarded by his forces; and in the course ofthe siege, which brought great misery upon the inhabitants, DeLesseps did so many humane and generous acts at great personal risk, that he was rewarded by honors from the governments of severalnations whose subjects had been protected by him in his officialcapacity. 

It was natural that after this proof of his abilities, De Lessepsshould be advanced to a still higher position, and in the spring of1848 he was made minister to Madrid. This place he held, however, only until February, 1849, for in May of that year he was sent toRome to patch up a peace between the popular party and the Frencharmy of occupation. This proved an unfortunate venture. De Lessepswas recalled to France in disgrace, in June of the same year, forhaving shown too great a sympathy for the party of Mazzini, whichaimed to establish a Roman Republic. 

It may be conjectured that the disappointment of De Lesseps at thisabrupt ending of his diplomatic career was not very great. He hadnot been drawn to the profession by natural inclination, but hadinherited it, so to speak, from his father, as another man mightinherit the profession of law or medicine, or as the son of amechanic might inherit his father's trade. His ambition and tastesboth led him in a different direction; he would play a more active, a more striking part in the affairs of his time. 

During the period of his residence in Egypt, as consul for France, he must often have heard the project of a canal across the Isthmusof Suez discussed, since the course of events was every year makingthe necessity of the undertaking more evident. As is well known, theidea of such a canal was not a new one: Herodotus speaks of a canaldesigned and partly excavated by Pharaoh Necho in the seventhcentury before Christ, to connect the city of Bubastis, in the Deltaof the Nile, with the Red Sea. As planned, the canal was to be tenfeet deep with a width sufficient for two triremes to pass abreast, and it was expected that the voyage would be accomplished in fourdays. After the lives of 126, 000 Egyptian workmen had beensacrificed to the hardships of the undertaking, Herodotus says thatNecho, alarmed at the difficulties and expense, consulted the Oracleas to what was best for him to do, and received the answer: "Thouart working for barbarians. " The Egyptians, like the Greeks, considered all foreigners as barbarians, and the answer simplyreflected the sentiment of the people, or of their leaders, thatthis vast expenditure of labor, time, and money would prove to be, after all, as much for the benefit of foreigners as for themselves. The Oracle gave a voice to national and political prejudices, suchas even in our own time are continually evoked to block the wheelsof great enterprises. Necho, we are told, heeded the warning of theOracle and abandoned the enterprise, but about one hundred yearslater, in the time of Darius Hystaspes, work on the canal wasresumed and the undertaking was completed. From time to time we findmention made of the canal by later authors, but about the end of theeighth century of our era it was finally abandoned and left to beblocked up by the sand. 

The project was revived by Napoleon I. At the time of his Egyptianexpedition; but, on the report of his engineer, M. Lepère, now knownto be mistaken, that the Red Sea level was thirty feet higher thanthat of the Mediterranean, nothing further was done; nor was ituntil so late as 1847 that it was again taken up and an attempt madeto interest the maritime powers of Europe in the scheme; but nothingserious was accomplished. 

In truth, the idea of a canal uniting the two seas, had up to thistime been largely sentimental, if we may so express it; ratherconnected with vast schemes of conquest than founded on the vitalneeds of commercial development and the material good of the people. The commerce of the Mediterranean countries with India and theremoter East had not in those earlier times reached a point wheresuch a costly undertaking as the Suez Canal could proveremunerative; what trade there was could be sufficiently and morecheaply accommodated by the Overland machinery of caravans, whileFrance, Spain, and England still found the route by the Cape toanswer all their purposes. In fact it was more than doubtful whethersailing-vessels, by means of which trade was then chiefly carriedon, or even steamers of the build then employed, could use the canalto profit. It was believed that the advantages promised by a shorterroute would be counterbalanced by the delays and dangers reckonedinseparable from the navigation of so narrow a water-way. 

These objections, really of a serious nature, made it difficult towin over the business world to a practical interest in the scheme. De Lesseps had been from the start the chief mover in theenterprise, to which he had given many years of his time, and he wasnot a man to be discouraged by repeated failures to bring others tohis own way of thinking. His long experience, besides, in the waysof diplomacy had prepared him for delays and obstructions; but thetime came, at last, when his enthusiasm, his confidence in himself, and his skill in dealing with men were to bring about therealization of his hopes. 

Five years, from 1849 to 1854, had been occupied by De Lesseps innegotiations with governments and bankers, but it was not until 1854that the event occurred which insured the success of his greatundertaking. In that year, Mahomet Saïd Pasha became Viceroy ofEgypt, and no sooner was he seated than he sent for De Lesseps toconsult with him as to the possibility of carrying out the projectof the canal. In November of the same year, a commission was signedat Cairo by the Viceroy charging De Lesseps with the formation of acompany to be named the United Suez Canal Company, with a capital oftwo hundred million francs, afterward raised to three hundredmillion. From this time the affairs of the canal went on withcomparative smoothness, and by 1858 the money necessary for the workhad been pledged; one-half the loan was placed on the continent, chiefly in Paris, the other half was taken by the Viceroy. 

Actual work on the canal was begun in 1858 and such rapid progress wasmade that it was completed in the autumn of 1869, and opened to thecommerce of the world with magnificent ceremonies, lasting for severaldays. Religious ceremonies, in which priests of the Catholic Church, the Greek Church, and the Moslem faith united, were followed by anaval parade representing the European powers and the United States, and the whole concluded with a brilliant series of fêtes andentertainments at Cairo. As the originator of the canal, De Lesseps, was a Frenchman, and as France had been the chief promoter of theenterprise, the place of honor at these ceremonies was naturally givento the Empress Eugénie, who went to Cairo as the representative of theFrench nation; while to De Lesseps, as naturally, was given the nextplace, a position which he filled with equal dignity and modesty, winning "golden opinions from all sorts of people. "

The Suez Canal, though a vast and important undertaking, presentedalmost no engineering difficulties to be overcome. At Port Saïd, theMediterranean entrance to the canal, two great piers, to serve asbreakwaters, were built of artificial stone, projecting into thesea; the western, a distance of 6, 940 feet, the eastern 6, 020 feet, and enclosing an area of 450 acres; thus providing a safe andcommodious harbor. At Suez, the Red Sea terminus of the canal, aless formidable defense was needed; but the necessary docks andbuildings called for a considerable outlay. 

From Port Saïd to Suez the land is almost a dead level; the fewsand-dunes that break the monotonous uniformity of the isthmusnowhere reach a greater height than fifty or sixty feet. Along themiddle line of the isthmus there was a series of depressions; someshallow, and others, the bottoms of which were lower than the levelof the sea. Although these depressions were at all times dry, yetthey were called "lakes, " and as such figure on the maps, where weread the names "Lake Timsah, " "The Bitter Lakes" and others. Theywere found to be thickly incrusted with salt on the bottom andsides, indicating that at one time they had been filled withsea-water; it is indeed must probable that the whole isthmus was ata very remote period entirely submerged. In the construction of thecanal these depressions were made to play a very important part. Theline of the canal was carried directly through them; the shallowerwere brought to a sufficient depth by dredging; the deeper weresimply filled with water and required nothing more for safenavigation than an indication of the channel by buoys. Thus, in thewhole length of the canal, reckoned at 88 geographical miles, thereare 66 miles of actual digging; 14 miles of dredging through thelakes; and 8 miles, where neither digging nor dredging was required. 

Water began to flow from the Mediterranean into the canal inFebruary, 1869, and from the Red Sea in July of the same year; andby October, the lakes, and the canal in its whole length, werefilled with water navigable by vessels of the highest class. Thewater-way thus obtained has a width at the surface varying from 197feet at deep cuttings, to 225 feet at lower ground. The sides slopeto a width at the bottom of 72 feet, and an average depth of 26 feetis secured along the whole course. As the water is at one level fromsea to sea, the canal is without obstruction of any kind. No locks, dams, or water-gates are required, and vessels enter the canal fromeither end and pursue their journey without interruption ordetention. 

So great, however, was the eagerness of trade to take advantage ofthe new route, that the volume of traffic increased within a veryshort time after the opening of the canal to such an extent as tocause serious delays in the transit, and a number of schemes werebrought forward for building other canals by which the two seasmight be united. In the end, all these plans were abandoned, and itwas decided to widen the canal sufficiently to enable it to meet theincreased demand upon its carrying capacity. It may not be withoutinterest to note the growth of traffic in the canal by a fewfigures. From 486 ships which passed through in 1870, the numberrose to 3, 100 in 1886; while the receipts increased from $1, 031, 875in 1870, to $11, 541, 090 in 1886. The canal, when completed, wasfound to have cost twenty million pounds sterling, a sum far inadvance of the original estimate, but made necessary by the additionof several important items of expenditure that were not foreseen. One of these was the substitution of paid labor for the forced laborpromised by the Pasha, but which was made impossible by publicclamor. The Egyptian ruler discovered that he was not living in thetimes of the pyramid-building Pharaohs, when men were madebeasts-of-burden. Another item not provided for was the necessity ofsupplying the 30, 000 workmen employed on the canal with fresh water. For this purpose, a branch canal had to be dug, by which water couldbe brought from the Nile. 

[Illustration: Cutting the Canal at Panama. ]

The enterprise thus brought to a happy ending, has already proved ofgreat service to the world. It must be looked upon not merely as abenefit to commerce, but as one of the many powerful agents nowat work binding the nations closer together. It is indissolublyconnected with the name of De Lesseps, and had he been contentedwith the fortune and the reputation gained by his work in forwardingthe canal, few names would have shone brighter in the list of thosewho have helped on man's material well-being. But in an evil hour hewas persuaded to lend his support to the Panama Canal scheme, andalong with the ruined fortunes and ruined reputations sunk in thatabyss, the name and fortune of De Lesseps and his family havesuffered irretrievable blight. 

The Panama Canal was not first proposed in our day; the scheme is asold as the discovery of the isthmus. "The early navigators, " says J. C. Rodrigues, "could not help noticing how near to each other werethe two oceans, and how comparatively easy would be (they thought)the cutting of a canal through that narrow strip of land betweenthem. The celebrated Portuguese navigator Antonio Galväo, as earlyas 1550, wrote an essay on the subject wherein he suggested fourdifferent lines, one of which was through the Lake of Nicaragua, andanother by the Isthmus of Panama. " England, in 1779, was the firstto make an attempt to control the river and lake communications, buther forces sent under Nelson to begin the work were driven away bythe terrible fever that has thus far been the best defence of theisthmus from attack. Various schemes were entertained by othernations, but, although the United States kept a jealous eye upon itsown interests in the enterprise, it was not until the discovery ofgold in California that it saw a vital reason for insisting upon itsparamount claims, and the outbreak of the Civil War, with itsthreats of European intervention, made an easier communication withthe rising States of the Pacific Coast seem an absolute necessity. But we moved slowly and with vacillating steps. We were divided inopinion as to the best route to take, as to the sort of canal thatwas desirable, as to the advisability of building any canal. Whenthe war was over, the rapid increase of railroad communication withthe Pacific Coast made public opinion still more indifferent to theenterprise. Meanwhile the French had started with great energy ascheme for a canal at Panama, and De Lesseps had been induced tolend his name to the scheme, and to take an active part in carryingit out. For this purpose he visited the United States and used hisbest diplomatic arts to induce our Government to unite with him inhis plans. But he could do nothing on this side the water andreturned to France to fight the battle alone. There the interest inthe scheme, artificially excited by speculators and still furtheraided by the efforts of De Lesseps and his friends, increased tosuch an extent as to swamp all considerations of prudence. The nameof De Lesseps, consecrated by the brilliant success of Suez, provedto be a powerful charm. Thousands and tens of thousands of people inthe cities and in the country put the hard-earned savings of yearsinto the venture; senators, deputies, men of high social rank inpublic life, shamelessly sold their votes and their voices to securethe moral aid and the money of the state to aid their gamblingenterprise, and the newspaper press of Paris, at all times venal, betrayed for bribes the trust that was reposed in it. 

Such a state of things could not last forever. The end, longprophesied, came at last; the exposure was complete, and the wholestupendous scheme of fraud was unmasked. Something might have beensaved from the wreck had the canal itself been a real thing so faras it had gone, a practical enterprise, sure in time to pay itsinvestors and serve the public. But it was found that everythingconnected with the construction of the canal had been grosslymisrepresented; the estimates of expense; the reports of theengineering difficulties to be overcome; the dangers from theclimate; the bills of mortality; everything, in short, was envelopedin a cloud of lies. So great was the shock to public confidence thatfollowed this exposure, that for a time the Republic itself seemedin danger of overthrow. The eyes of the world were fixed upon DeLesseps and his son Charles as the chief authors of the mischief, and when the crisis was passed, and the smoke of the upheaval hadpassed away, the Panama Canal was seen to be a ruined enterprise, and buried deep underneath it was the once-honored name of FerdinandDe Lesseps. 

[Signature: Clarence Cook. ]

GENERAL JOHN C. FRÉMONT[17]

 [Footnote 17: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By JANE MARSH PARKER

(1813-1890)

In these days of rapid transit between New York and San Francisco, of luxurious travel across desert and mountain, the story of JohnCharles Frémont, the Pathfinder of the great West, is of peculiarinterest, a striking illustration that the history of the world isin the biography of its leaders, in the pathfinders of theunexplored. 

The stormy tide of the French Revolution sent the father of JohnCharles Frémont to the New World about the time, presumably, whenNapoleon Bonaparte was in the height of power. This M. Frémont cameof a good family living near Lyons, France. A British man-of-warmade prize of the ship in which he sailed for San Domingo, and hewas carried prisoner to one of the British West India islands, hiscaptivity lasting several years. Upon gaining his liberty he stoppedat Norfolk, Va. , to refill an empty purse as a teacher of French, and there met Anne Beverly Whiting, a leading belle of an oldVirginia family, who became his wife. One of the illustriousconnections of the Whitings was that with the family of GeorgeWashington. M. Frémont's marked fondness for travel and adventurewas shared by his wife. They took long journeys through the wildsouthern country, stopping at Indian villages, often sleeping bycamp-fires. On one of these expeditions, when making a halt atSavannah, Ga. , John Charles, their first child, was born, January21, 1813. M. Frémont died a few years after. 

The boyhood of John Charles was spent in Charleston. It is well toremember, in a study of his life, his French blood and earlysouthern environment. His first choice of a profession was the law. At the age of fourteen he became a student in the office of John W. Mitchell, who placed him under a private tutor, Dr. Roberton, whounderstood the lad thoroughly and developed his character in theright direction. Dr. Roberton seems to have first discovered whatwas made plain in Frémont's after-life--the makings of a poet, andthe foresight of a prophet. Translating the story of the battle ofMarathon in the Greek class, young Frémont catches the spirit withwhich it was told by Herodotus, and writes verses in protest oftyranny which are published in one of the Charleston papers. "In oneyear, " wrote his tutor, "he had read four books of Cæsar; CorneliusNepos; Sallust; six books of Virgil; nearly all of Horace, and twobooks of Livy. In Greek--all of Græca Minora, about half of thefirst volume of Græca Majora, and four books of the Iliad. " Atfifteen he enters the junior class of Charleston College. At sixteenhe is confirmed in the Episcopal Church, entertaining at that timethoughts of entering the ministry. His steady progress isinterrupted by his first love affair; his absorbing passion so getsthe better of his common sense, that he neglects his books andclasses and is expelled from college. We next find him teachinghigher mathematics, acting as private tutor, and devoting hisevenings to the charge of the _Apprentice's Library_, a school inCharleston. At twenty years of age he received the appointment ofteacher of mathematics, and his long connection with the UnitedStates Army had its beginning; his post the sloop of war Natchez. Hewas to go on a cruise of two years and more along the coast of SouthAmerica. Here was a chance for him to unfit himself for furtheradvancement, but he improved his time upon the cruise to the utmost, and his diligent scholarship won for him the double degree ofbachelor and master of arts from the college from which he had beenexpelled. His application for a mathematical professorship in theNavy resulted in his passing the severe examination, and in anappointment to the frigate Independence. He declined the office, however, having decided to become an engineer, to join CaptainWilliams's survey of the mountain passes between South Carolina andTennessee. There was talk of a railroad between Charleston andCincinnati in those days. 

That was Frémont's first experience in exploring expeditions. Thecorps lived chiefly in camp. The survey was in wild mountainousregions of the unexplored South, among Indians sullen against theGovernment. Frémont liked this kind of a life. He enlisted underCaptain Williams the second time in 1837, as assistant engineer, going with him upon a military reconnoissance of the Cherokeecountry in Georgia, North Carolina, and Tennessee. A war cloud wasrising; the peril of the expedition was its charm to Frémont. "St. Louis was then on the border of an immense and almost unexploredIndian country. The caravans of merchandise going through it toSanta Fé, ran all the risks you can read of among Bedouins in thedesert; the hunters and trappers, as well as the merchants, startedoff into the unknown with only one certainty, that danger was there;and when they came back--if they ever did--it was as fromunderworld. "[18]

 [Footnote 18: Souvenirs of my Time. Jessie Benton Frémont. ]

About this time a distinguished French geographer, M. Nicollet, wassent to this country by France to explore the sources of theMississippi, "in the interests of geography. " The United States werealso interested in the geography of the almost unknown Northwest. M. Nicollet was appointed to make explorations for the United States, and Frémont was honored with the position of principal assistant. Itwas high time that something should be done in the interests of ageography made up largely from travellers' tales. That there was agreat river, the Buena Ventura, running from the base of the RockyMountains to the Bay of San Francisco, nobody doubted, for there itwas upon the map. The exploration of M. Nicollet, assisted byFrémont, awakened great interest. They were absent two years; theirfield, the territory between the Missouri and the upper rivers, asfar north as the British line. Their report was awaited withimpatience. Frémont came home to find that he had been appointedsecond lieutenant of the United States Topographical Engineers. As ascientific explorer his fame was established. The year following hisreturn he spent in Washington with M. Nicollet, preparing his reportfor publication. Among those most deeply interested was SenatorBenton, of Missouri, "Tom Benton, " as he was popularly called, and"Old Bullion. " Benton's hobby was the opening of a road forimmigrants to the Pacific coast, as a necessary step to theacquisition of the territory held by Mexico--the California ofto-day. Senator Benton's interest in the report of the youngengineer, then about twenty-seven years of age, was surpassed by theyoung engineer's interest in the senator's daughter, Jessie, thenonly fifteen, an interest which ended in a betrothal contrary to thewishes of older heads, owing to Miss Benton's youth and youngFrémont's connection with the army. The young engineer received anunexpected and unwelcome order, sending him to the wild frontier ofIowa at once, where the Sacs and Foxes, it was thought by SenatorBenton (who had a hand in his exile), might be made to help postponethe marriage, at least. But banishment and red-skins were of noavail in breaking the engagement. 

Frémont performed his duty to the letter, returned to Washington, and married Miss Benton, October 19, 1841--a "runaway match" whichhappily brought life-long happiness to both parties--Mrs. Frémontbecoming the connecting link, to use her own words, between herfather's "fixed idea of the importance of the speedy acquisition ofthe Pacific coast, and its actualization through the man best fittedto be the pioneer of the undertaking. "

Less than a year after his marriage, in the summer of 1842, Frémontwas sent by the War Department on the _first_ of the _five_expeditions which gave him the name of Pathfinder. 

The Mexican War was ripening fast. England had at that timefinancial claims upon Mexico, and Mexico was bankrupt. 

How to get California was a serious question, reminding UnitedStates diplomatists of the old Quaker's advice to his son--"Getmoney, Joseph, get money. Get it honestly if you can--_but get it_. "Acquisition of California by settlement was vigorously encouraged. The best routes across the mountains must be discovered andsurveyed. Partial explorations of routes to Oregon and Californiahad been made. Emigrants had crossed the Rockies and were settled inthe Sacramento Valley. But the geography of the Great Basin wasinaccessible to science; the best and safest routes were onlyguessed at. Emigration was checked by rumors of perils, alas! tootrue. Frémont's order to go to the frontier beyond the Mississippi, was changed at his request for something more definite--theexploration of _the South Pass_ of the Rocky Mountains. 

August 8, 1842, he reached the South Pass, and then the unexploredwas before him--untrodden ground. Kit Carson was his guide;twenty-eight men made up his party--Canadian voyageurs, picked men, well mounted and armed--only eight of the expedition driving wagons. Randolph Benton, a lad of twelve, Frémont's brother-in-law, was oneof the number. The great event of this expedition, so full ofthrilling adventure, was the first ascent of that highest peak ofthe Wind River Mountains, now called Frémont's Peak, 13, 570 feet inheight. "We mounted the barometer in the snow of the summit, "Frémont wrote, "and fixing a ramrod in the crevice, unfurled thenational flag where never flag waved before. . . . While we weresitting on the rock a solitary bumble-bee came winging its flightfrom the eastern valley, and lit on the knee of one of the men. "They run a cañon in the Platte, singing a Canadian boat-song for allthe peril. . . . Their boat is whirled over, food, ammunition, andvaluable records lost. Climbing up and out of the cañon, they admirethe scenery in spite of their forlornity . . . Cacti and bare feet, hunger and thirst . . . But astronomical and barometrical observationsand drawings are made, botanical specimens collected, and a mass ofinformation, making the report of this expedition[19] what has beencalled the most enduring monument of Frémont's fame. The report washailed in England as well as the United States, and was followed byan increase of the wagon-trains across the mountains via the SouthPass. 

 [Footnote 19: Frémont's Oregon and California. (1849. )]

The first expedition was absent some six months. Frémont's Peakmarks the western point of that journey. 

The next order from the Government sent Frémont, in the spring of1843, to begin exploring where he had left off in 1842; to connecthis survey with that of Commodore Wilkes on the Pacific coast. KitCarson was again his guide; many of the previous expeditionenlisted, 32 men in all. Across the forks of the Kansas the routelay west of Fort Laramie, through the Medicine Butte Pass and theSouth Pass to the northern end of Great Salt Lake. Frémont's reportof this region led the Mormons to settle at Salt Lake afterward, believing they would be in Mexican territory. The record of thisexpedition, like the preceding one, is a story of fearful sufferingand heroic endurance. It is given in detail in Frémont's "Memoirs, "and Benton's "Thirty Years in the Senate. " Deep snows on themountains, no sign of the Buena Ventura River, Indians refusing toguide such a foolhardy venture; "skeleton men leading skeletonhorses;" the descent into the Sacramento Valley at last, and thearrival at Fort Vancouver, November 1843, gives but a glimpse of theheroism of this second expedition. The suffering endured in reachingthe coast was as nothing to that of the return through the greatvalley between the Rockies and the Sierra Nevada, looking for theriver they were the first to prove did not exist at all. From SanFrancisco back to Salt Lake, three thousand five hundred miles ineight months, not once out of the sight of snow. Geography hadgained an important fact--the Colorado was the only river flowingfrom the Rocky Mountains on that part of the continent. For eightmonths not a word had been heard from the party, at the East, andthen Frémont came home "thin as a shadow, " and Mrs. Frémont couldtell him that she might have prevented his going at all had shechosen, for an order from Washington, countermanding the expedition, had been received by her addressed to her husband, soon after hisdeparture from St. Louis. The expedition was not too far away whenthe despatch came for her to get it to him, but she decided towithhold it. Because he had taken a mountain howitzer in his outfithe was ordered to stay at home. What a scientific expedition couldwant of a howitzer was not plain to the authorities, who seemed tothink that hostile Indians knew at sight the difference between amilitary and a scientific party and would respect it. Mrs. Frémonttells the story in _The Century_ for March, 1891, how she not onlydid not send on the despatch, but a messenger instead, biddingFrémont "Go on at once without asking why, " so fearful was she aduplicate order might defeat his going at all. 

General Scott was Commander in Chief of our Army in 1845. At hisinstance Lieutenant Frémont was made captain in the United StatesArmy, and in the fall of that year was sent by the Government onanother expedition . . . This time to find the best road to thePacific coast. Trouble with Mexico was growing fast. Oursouthwestern territory needed looking after; the northwestern ofMexico as well. Frémont was to follow the Arkansas River to itssource in the Rocky Mountains, explore the Great Basin, theCascades, and the Sierra Nevada, and define a route in a southernlatitude for emigrants. Kit Carson was among the sixty men of thisparty, and several veterans of the two former expeditions. Theystruck out for the Sierra by the way of the Humboldt River. The warwith Mexico broke out soon after their departure. 

It was another story of fearful hardship--the Sacramento Valley wasreached at last, and Frémont hastened to Monterey to get permissionfrom the Mexican authorities to make a scientific exploration of theregion. His request was granted, and permission given to replenishhis exhausted supplies. Why the Government revoked this permissionalmost as soon as granted, ordering him and his men to quit thecountry at once or they would be sent as prisoners to Mexico, is asource of much controversy between historians of that day and this. Frémont could not retreat into the desert with his scanty outfit. Arude fort was built at once on Hawk's Peak, some thirty miles fromMonterey, and the Stars and Stripes flung out, Frémont and his menready to take the consequences of such defiance. When they withdrew, as they did in a few days, overtures from the Mexicans followedthem, even a proposition from the Spanish officer that Frémontshould join with him and declare the country independent of Mexico. Frémont moved northward. He had reached Tlamath Lake when overtakenby a special messenger from Washington, the bearer of a despatchwhich had been memorized by the messenger to prevent its fallinginto the hands of the Mexicans, and which Frémont interpreted tomean that it was the wish of the Cabinet that he should aid intaking and holding California, in the event of any occurrence whichhe thought justification for so doing. The English must notstrengthen their foothold on the coast. Someone must look after theinterest of the United States; he was on the ground. If a crisiscame he must act without written authority, promptly anddiscreetly--"Get it honestly if you can--_but get it_. " He returnedat once to California, and found it in a revolutionary state. TheAmerican settlers had hoisted what was called the Bear Flag, andwere eager to fight for the overthrow of the Mexican authority inCalifornia. 

It is a long story, that of the conquest of California. Frémont'sright to be called the Conqueror or the Emancipator is bitterlydisputed by some, who claim that he attacked the Californians byirregular warfare, and so thwarted the conciliatory designs of theGovernment. Be that as it may, by July 5, 1846, the Bear Flaginsurgents under Frémont had declared their independence of Mexico, and Frémont had been appointed Governor of California, and hadhauled down the Bear Flag and raised the Stars and Stripes. Aconstitution had been drawn up and the territory declared to be inthe possession of the United States. January, 1847, "the enemy"capitulated to Frémont. "The celerity and boldness of his movementsin the conduct of the affair were only surpassed, " says acontemporary, "by the moderation and clemency of his policy. " "Thedecisive point, " wrote George Bancroft, "in the establishment of theUnion on a firm basis had been gained. "

The seizure of California in 1846 has been called, from anotheroutlook, "one of the least creditable affairs in the highlydiscreditable Mexican War, " and Frémont nothing more than afilibuster seeking private ends. California had been made ours, nevertheless, and Frémont had secured the prize. 

In the meantime the Mexican War had begun, and Commodore Stockton, of the U. S. Navy, was hastening to California _by sea_ under ordersto subjugate the country. General Kearney was marching westward _byland_ under like orders. Of course there was a dispute aboutprecedence when both were upon the ground, each asserting his rightto command the other, both issuing orders and insisting upon theright to precedence. The difficulty of serving under two masters wasexperienced by Frémont. General Vallejo testified that he receivedin one day, letters from Commodore Stockton, General Kearney, andColonel Frémont, each signing himself "Commander-in-Chief. " Frémontbelieved he had sufficient reason for choosing to serve underStockton, which he did. Upon Stockton's return to his squadron andKearney's assignment to full command, Kearney brought chargesagainst Frémont for mutiny and fraud, defeating his re-appointmentas governor of the State besides. Frémont was ordered home, and itwas said "that, like Columbus, he returned from the discovery andconquest of a new world, a prisoner and in disgrace. " He went backto Washington under arrest. Great honors awaited him, nevertheless, his troubles only adding to his laurels. The citizens of Charlestongave him a sword, the ladies the gold-mounted belt of the same. Hedemanded immediate trial, which was granted, the court-martiallasting three months, his defence filling three sessions. He waspronounced guilty of mutiny, disobedience of the lawful command of asuperior officer, and conduct to the prejudice of good order andmilitary discipline--a conviction based, some said, upon technicalgrounds. President Polk remitted the penalty--dismissal from thearmy--but Frémont resigned at once, the President reluctantlyaccepting his resignation. 

Frémont was then thirty-four years old. As the leader of three greatexploring expeditions he had become not only famous, but a popularhero. He had done much for science. He had made the most accuratemap of the region between the one hundred and fourth meridian andthe Pacific. He had added a large collection of botanical, geological, and other specimens to the national museums. He waseager to resume explorations of routes to the Pacific, havingdecided to settle his family in California--upon the Mariposaestate, in the Sacramento Valley, which he had bought in 1847, before the discovery of gold, seventy square miles, for $3, 000, "theonly Mexican grant that covered any part of the gold regions. "

Frémont's claims against the Government for expenses incurred in theconquest and defence of California, amounted to some $700, 000, whichwas paid to him. Among those advocating the payment were SenatorsBenton, and Dix of New York. Twenty thousand copies of Frémont's mapof Oregon and California were ordered by the Senate. 

It was by no means in the rôle of a defeated man that he started outupon his fourth expedition, in the fall of 1848--when the gold feverwas at its height--a venture of his own and Colonel Benton's; itsobject, a route to the Pacific by way of the Rio Grande. Thirty-twomen were enlisted, picked men as before. It was a superb and costlyoutfit, no less than one hundred and twenty mules. Lacking KitCarson for a guide, they were lost in crossing the Rocky Mountains, every mule and horse and one-third of the men perishing from cold orstarvation. At last, as he wrote home, "the mules, huddled togetherin the deep snow, froze stiff as they stood and fell over likeblocks. " The freezing men recrossed the summit in retreat, some ofthem driven to cannibalism. Wading through the snow to the waist, the remnant reached the home of Kit Carson at Taos, N. M. , whereFrémont reorganized the expedition, reaching the Sacramento in thespring of 1849. 

Litigation concerning his title to the Mariposa estate did notprevent Frémont from developing its mineral and agriculturalresources. He engaged some twenty-eight Spaniards to work its goldmines upon shares. His prospects of boundless wealth were mostflattering. The Pathfinder was now a millionaire, and in 1855 histitle to Mariposa was established by the Supreme Court. Followinghis appointment in 1849 to run the boundary line between the UnitedStates and Mexico, the political party of the Territory seeking itsadmission as a free State, elected him to the United States Senate. Many honors were bestowed upon him at this time--the medal of theRoyal Geographical Society of London, the Founders medal from theKing of Prussia, an honorary membership of the Geographical Societyof Berlin, etc. 

In the California State election of 1851, Frémont stood with theAnti-Slavery party, opposed to the extension of slavery in freeterritories. He was defeated, and went to Europe with his family in1852, where he was fêted by royalty generally. Mrs. Frémont, in her"Souvenirs of My Time, " has given charming glimpses of this part oftheir life. Hearing that Congress had made appropriation for furthersurveys of great Western routes, Frémont hastened home in 1853, toexplore by a fifth expedition, what he believed to be the mostcentral and practicable route. This was his second private venture. He would follow the path he had lost when the guide led him astrayon his fourth expedition. He would cross the Rockies at CochetopaPass, and that in winter. 

He made the passage, but it was at the cost of frightful suffering;fifty days on frozen horse-flesh, days without even that;forty-eight hours without a morsel of food; the entire partybarefooted in the snow; Frémont, in the hour of extreme peril on thestorm-swept mountain-side, making his men take oath that, come whatmight, nothing should tempt them to cannibalism. Benton tells us howFrémont went straight to the spot where the guide had gone astray in1848, and found safe and easy passes all the way to California, uponthe straight line of 38° and 39°. Great railroads of to-day followthe line it took those starving and half-frozen men fifty days topass in that winter of 1854. For three months nothing was heard fromthe party. Frémont's arrival in San Francisco was an ovation. "Europe lies between Asia and America, " we read in his report;"build the road, and America lies between Europe and Asia. . . . Theiron track to San Francisco will be the thoroughfare of the world. "

The issues at stake in the presidential campaign of 1856 make thatcampaign the most important of any in the history of our country. "The question now to be decided, " said Seward, "is whether aslave-holding class shall govern America or not. " The nomination ofJohn Charles Frémont as the candidate of the Republican party washailed with enthusiasm at the North. The Civil War was impending. The lines between the defenders of slavery and its opponents weresharply defined. Frémont was the first nominee of the Republicanparty. The romance and adventure of his career, his upright life, the hero-worship of the Pacific coast, the antagonism of the South, gave the canvass a vitalizing force that his defeat by JamesBuchanan did not lessen, but simply changed into a new phase ofstrength. Frémont's popular vote was 1, 341, 000 against 1, 838, 000 forBuchanan and 874, 000 for Fillmore (Know-Nothing). Frémont received114 electoral votes, and Buchanan 174. 

When the Civil War broke out, in 1861, Frémont was in Europe. Heoffered his services to the Government at once, and was appointedone of the four major-generals of the regular army, and given hischoice of a command at the East or the West. He chose the West. "Whoholds the Mississippi will hold the country by the heart, " he said. His head-quarters were at St. Louis, where secession was rampant. "You must use your own judgment, " wrote President Lincoln, "and dothe best you can. I doubt if the States will ever come back. "Frémont's policy differed from Lincoln's essentially; it lacked thatpatient, conciliatory spirit with the South which made it hard formany at the North to approve of the compromising policy of the ChiefExecutive, seeking to hold the neutral States from seceding. Frémont's hatred of the rebellion led him to deal with it just as hewould have done with a mutiny on a perilous expedition. Heproclaimed martial law. Rebels were to pay some penalty forrebellion--rebel newspapers were silenced--and what was the notablefeature of Frémont's administration--the slaves of those in armsagainst the Government were declared emancipated; his emancipationproclamation antedating Lincoln's of September 22, 1862, by a littlemore than a year. But Frémont's policy was censured rather thanapproved by the country at large. Petty intrigues of officers inclose relation with the Cabinet did much to defeat his plans. Hisfleet of gunboats was called a useless extravagance--his staff "theCalifornia Gang. " His emancipation proclamation was pronouncedpremature and unwise by Lincoln, and revoked. Frémont again was thecause of an intense public partisanship, "Frémont's career at theWest was brief, " says "Patton's Concise History of the UnitedStates, " "only one hundred days; but, being a man of militaryinstincts and training, he showed in that time a sagacity which wasnot allowed fair practical development. In that brief time he wasthe first to suggest and inaugurate the following practices, thenwidely decried, but without which the war would not have beensuccessfully concluded: the free use of cavalry (strongly opposed byGeneral Scott and others); exchange of prisoners with the enemy;fortification of large cities, to allow armies to take the field;building of river gunboats for the interior operations at the West;and the emancipation of the slaves. In short, he contributed morethan is generally credited to him. " "To get rid of Frémont, " saysMajor-General Sigel, "the good prospects and honor of the army weresacrificed to the jealousy of successful rivals. " Frémont wasrelieved of his command in 1861, and shortly after appointedcommander of the Mountain District of Virginia, Kentucky, andTennessee, where he did most honorable service, Stonewall Jacksonretreating before him after eight days' sharp skirmishing, ending inthe battle of Cross Keys. 

Upon the appointment of General Pope as Commander of the Army ofVirginia, making him Frémont's superior officer, Frémont asked to berelieved; his request was granted. 

A minority of the Republican party, the radical wing, opposed to therenomination of Lincoln in 1864, nominated Frémont as theircandidate. He accepted, but finally withdrew. "Not to aid in thetriumph of Lincoln, " he said, "but to do my part toward preventingthe election of the Democratic candidate. " One of the Republicancandidates would have to retire to save the party. Here is a subjectfor debating clubs: Was the interest of the country best served byFrémont's withdrawal from the canvass of 1864?

After 1864 Frémont took little part in public life. He becameabsorbed in his great trans-continental railroad scheme of a linefrom Norfolk to San Diego and San Francisco, in which he ultimatelylost his large fortune. French agents, in disposing of his bonds inFrance, made false representations. He was prosecuted by the FrenchGovernment in 1873, and sentenced by default to fine andimprisonment, although no judgment was given on the merits of thecase. 

The sale of his Mariposa grant brought him several millions, whichhe invested in railroads soon after the war, buying the propertiesthat now constitute a large part of the Texas Pacific and otherroads belonging to the Atchison and Santa Fé. In the greatconsolidation entailed by the foreign litigation, his confidence wasabused, and he met with heavy and irreparable loss. 

From 1878 to 1881 he was Governor of Arizona. His "Memoirs" appearedin 1886. The closing years of his life were spent in comparativeretirement. 

Not long before his sudden death in New York City July 14, 1890, atthe age of seventy-seven years, he had been placed on the retiredlist of the United States Army with the rank of Major-General. Whenhe passed away the Pathfinder of Africa was filling the publicear--the wedding of Stanley in Westminster Abbey was the theme ofthe hour. 

He was buried in Kensico Cemetery, Piermont-on-the-Hudson, aboutthirty miles from New York City, near the country home of hisprosperous days. His widow, Jessie Benton Frémont, is at thiswriting (1893), a resident of Los Angeles, Cal. Three childrensurvive their father, an unmarried daughter, Elizabeth McDowellBenton, Lieutenant Frank Preston Frémont, U. S. A. ; and LieutenantJohn Charles Frémont, U. S. N. After his death Mrs. Frémont demandedcompensation for, or restitution of the property appropriated by theUnited States Government for military purposes in San Franciscoharbor, in 1863, and for which she has never received a dollar(1893). The settlement of this claim in her favor is anticipated bythe bench generally, long as justice to her has been delayed. Atpresent she has a pension from the Government. 

Some profess to find it hard reading the character of John CharlesFrémont, calling it enigmatical and baffling. Not so with those whoknew him best. "His unwritten history, " writes one of these, "givesthe clew to his life. "

That he was a man of indomitable courage none can deny; a man oflofty principle and unblemished character. An atmosphere of romancemakes him the American Chevalier. 

He did more than any other man to open the pathways to the Pacificcoast. The bitter feeling engendered by the California conquest, andhis policy in the Civil War, is not yet extinct. Partisanship hasbiassed the most of his biographers. The intense feeling underlyingthe presidential campaign of 1856 did not conduce to a fair estimateof the man, who has suffered hardly less from the intense admirationof his friends than from jealousies of rivals and foes. "I tried todo my duty, " he would say in his old age, when asked to explainknotty points about the conquest. 

"All that he ever did for the Government, " says one who knew himwell, "was uniformly repaid with injury. " That is the verdict of oneside of the controversy. The sifting and weighing of a mass ofconflicting evidence, preceding the final verdict of permanenthistory, is not yet ended in Frémont's case. That the outcome willbe illumination of his fame rather than obscuration, his unswervingdefenders do not doubt. 

"Though the Pathfinders die, the paths remain open. "

[Signature: Jane Marsh Parker. ]

DAVID LIVINGSTONE

By Professor W. G. BLAIKIE, LL. D. 

(1813-1873)

[Illustration: David Livingstone. ]

David Livingstone, missionary and traveller, was born at Blantyre, in Lanarkshire, March 19, 1813. His parents, who were in humblelife, were of devout and exemplary character; his father inparticular being a great reader, especially of travels andmissionary intelligence, and much interested in the enterprise ofthe nineteenth century. At the age of ten David became a worker in acotton-factory at Blantyre, and continued in that laboriousoccupation for fourteen years. His thirst for knowledge led him toread all that he could lay his hands on; he used also to attend anight-class, after the long hours of the factory, for the study ofLatin. The reading of Dick's "Philosophy of a Future State" was notonly the means of a profound impression on his mind, but kindled thedesire to devote his life as a missionary to the service of Christ. 

Deeply impressed with the advantages of medical training to amissionary, he resolved to qualify himself in medicine, as well asthe other attainments looked for in a missionary. The LondonMissionary Society having accepted the offer of his services, hewent to London to complete his studies. His first desire was tolabor in China, but, war having broken out between that country andGreat Britain, this wish could not be fulfilled. The Rev. RobertMoffat's visit at this time to England turned many hearts toAfrica--Livingstone's among the rest; ultimately he was appointed tothat field, and, having been ordained on November 20, 1840, he setsail for Africa, reaching Lattakoo or Kuruman, Moffat's settlement, on July 31, 1841. 

For several years Livingstone labored as a missionary in theBechuana country, at Mabotse, Chonuana, and Kolobeng, places thatwere chosen by him just because they were in the heart ofheathenism. The conversion of Sechélé, chief of the Bakwains, andseveral of his tribe, was a great encouragement. Repulsed by theBoers in an effort to plant native missionaries in the Transvaal, hedirected his steps northward, discovered Lake 'Ngami and found thecountry there traversed by fine rivers and inhabited by a densepopulation. His anxiety to benefit this region led finally to hisundertaking to explore the whole country westward to the Atlantic atSt. Paul de Loanda, and eastward to the Indian Ocean at Quilimane. 

Livingstone had married at Mabotse, Mary, eldest daughter of theRev. R. Moffat, and now he found it necessary to send her, withtheir children, to England, that he might be free for this vast andperilous undertaking. To accomplish it occupied from June 8, 1852, when he left Cape Town, to May 26, 1856, when he arrived atQuilimane. This journey was accomplished with a mere handful offollowers, and a mere pittance of stores, amid sicknesses and otherbodily troubles, perils, and difficulties without number. But a vastamount of valuable information was gathered respecting the countryand its products, its geography and natural history, the nativetribes, the regions that were favorable to health, and some greatnatural wonders, such as the Zambesi Falls. 

Livingstone, however, found that the London Missionary Society werenot willing that he should be to so large an extent an explorer, andsome time after returning to Britain he resigned his office as oneof their missionaries. 

At home Livingstone was welcomed with extraordinary enthusiasm, receiving the acknowledgments and honors of scientific societies, universities, town councils, and other public bodies in everyquarter of the country. In addition to these tokens of honor, thefifteen months spent at home were signalized by three things: thewriting of his book, "Missionary Travels" (1857), which was receivedwith the liveliest interest; his visit to Cambridge, awakening theenthusiasm of many of the students, and leading to the formationafterward of the "Universities Mission;" and his appointment by HerMajesty's Government as chief of an expedition for exploring theZambesi and its tributaries, and the regions adjacent. 

On this expedition Livingstone set out on March 10, 1858. Whilesuccessful in many ways, it led to not a little disappointment. Livingstone explored the Zambesi, the Shiré, and the Rovuma;discovered Lakes Shirwa and Nyassa, and came to a decided conclusionthat Lake Nyassa and its neighborhood was the best field for bothcommercial and missionary operations. His disappointments arose fromthe grievous defects of a steamer sent out to him by Government, from the death of comrades and helpers, including his wife andBishop Mackenzie; from the abandonment of the Universities Mission;from the opposition of the Portuguese authorities; but mainly fromthe distressing discovery that, encouraged by Portuguese traders, the slave-trade was extending in the district, and the slave-tradersusing his very discoveries to facilitate their infamous traffic. Atlength a despatch recalling the expedition was received, July 2, 1863. Livingstone, at his own cost, had brought out a new steamer, but she could not be put on the lake. Depressed though he was, heexplored the northern banks of Lake Nyassa on foot; then in his ownvessel, and under his own seamanship, crossed the Indian Ocean toBombay; and after a brief stay there, returned to Britain, reachingLondon on July 23, 1864. 

At home Livingstone had two objects--to expose the atrocious deedsof the Portuguese slave-traders, and to find means of establishing asettlement for missions and commerce somewhere near the head of theRovuma, or wherever a suitable locality could be found. His secondbook, "The Zambesi and its Tributaries" (1865), was designed tofurther these objects. He was again received with everydemonstration of honor and regard. A proposal was made to him, onthe part of the Royal Geographical Society, to return to Africa andsettle a disputed question regarding the water-shed of CentralAfrica and the sources of the Nile. He said he would go only as amissionary, but was willing to help to solve the geographicalproblem. 

He set out in August, 1865, _via_ Bombay and Zanzibar. On March 19, 1866, he started from the latter place, first of all trying to finda suitable settlement, then striking westward in order to solve thegeographical problem. Through the ill-behavior of some of hisattendants a report of his death was circulated, but an expedition, headed by Mr. E. D. Young, R. N. , ascertained that the report wasfalse. Livingstone pressed westward amid innumerable hardships, andin 1869 discovered Lakes Meoro and Bangweolo. All the while he wasdoing what he could for the religious enlightenment of the natives. Obliged to return for rest to Ujiji, where he found his goodssquandered, he struck westward again as far as the river Lualaba, thinking it might possibly be the Nile, but far from certain that itwas not, what it proved afterward to be, the Congo. Returning aftersevere illness once more to Ujiji, Livingstone found there, Mr. H. M. Stanley, who had been sent to look for him by the proprietor ofthe _New York Herald_. But no consideration would induce him toreturn home till he had made one more effort to solve thegeographical problem. 

He returned to Lake Bangweolo, but fell into wretched health. Hissufferings always increasing, when he reached Chitambo's village inIlala, he was obliged to give in. On the morning of May 1, 1873, hewas found by his attendants on his knees, dead. His faithful peopleembalmed his body as best they could, carried it amid the greatestperils to the shore, where it was put on board a British cruiser, and on April 18, 1874, it was buried in Westminster Abbey. 

Among the remains brought home were his "Last Journals, " broughtdown to within a few days of his death; these were published in1874. Stanley suggested the name of Livingstone for the main streamof the Congo (hence the Baptist Mission on the Lower Congo wascalled the "Livingstone Inland Mission"), and Mr. H. H. Johnstonproposed that part of the East African territory acquired by Britainin 1890--the lower drainage area of the Zambesi--should be calledLivingstone Land. 

 * * * * *

The following letter, written by him to his children in 1853, duringhis first exploring tour, gives the character of the man, and showshis deep religious feeling:

"_Sekelétu's Town, Linyanti, 2d October. _--My dear Robert, Agnes, and Thomas and Oswell. --Here is another little letter for you all. Ishould like to see you much more than write to you, and speak withmy tongue rather than with my pen, but we are far from eachother--very, very far. Here are Scipone, and Meriye, and others whosaw you as the first white children they ever looked at. Meriye camethe other day and brought a round basket for Nannie. She made it ofthe leaves of the palmyra. Others put me in mind of you all bycalling me Rananee, Rarobert, and there is a little Thomas in thetown, and when I think of you I remember, though I am far off, Jesus, our good and gracious Jesus, is ever near both you and me, and then I pray to Him to bless you and make you good. 

"He is ever near. Remember this if you feel angry or naughty. Jesusis near you, and sees you, and He is so good and kind. When He wasamong men, those who heard him speak said, 'Never man spake likethis man, ' and we now say, 'Never did man love like Him. ' You seelittle Zouga is carried on mamma's bosom. You are taken care of byJesus with as much care as mamma takes care of Zouga. He is alwayswatching you and keeping you in safety. It is very bad to sin, to doany naughty things, or speak angry or naughty words before Him. 

"My dear children, take Him as your Guide, your Helper, your Friend, and Saviour through life. Whatever you are troubled about, ask Himto keep you. Our God is good. We thank Him that we have such aSaviour and Friend as He is. Now you are little, but you will notalways be so, hence you must learn to read, and write, and work. Allclever men can both read and write, and Jesus needs clever men to doHis work. Would you not like to work for Him among men? Jesus iswishing to send His gospel to all nations, and He needs clever mento do this. Would you like to serve Him? Well, you must learn now, and not get tired learning. After some time you will like learningbetter than playing, but you must play too in order to make yourbodies strong and be able to serve Jesus. 

"I am glad to hear that you go to the academy. I hope you arelearning fast. Don't speak Scotch. It is not so pretty as English. Is the Tau learning to read with mamma? I hope you are all kind tomamma. I saw a poor woman in a chain with many others, up at theBarotse. She had a little child, and both she and her child werevery thin. See how kind Jesus was to you. No one can put you inchains unless you become bad. If, however, you learn bad ways, beginning only by saying bad words or doing little bad things, Satanwill have you in chains for sin, and you will be hurried on in hisbad ways till you are put into the dreadful place which God hathprepared for him and all who are like him. Pray to Jesus to deliveryou from sin, give you new hearts, and make you His children. KissZouga, mamma, and each other for me. 

 "Your ever affectionate father. "

CYRUS W. FIELD[20]

 [Footnote 20: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By MURAT HALSTEAD

(1819-1892)

[Illustration: Cyrus W. Field. ]

We, the people of the United States, have been celebrating withmemorable pomp the discovery of our hemisphere by ChristopherColumbus, and the elder nations and far-off islands have joined usin an immense festivity, honoring beyond all example of approbationan adventure that was a marvel, and an achievement that is immortal. 

All the world remembers the voyage of Columbus, that, persevered inthrough trials and perils, ended in triumph--how he studied thestars and the charts, and out of the dreams of ages wove the fabricof fancy that grew to theory, and prophecy, and history, that therewas land beyond the Atlantic; and there is no moment in human lifesupreme above, or of more fascinating interest than, that when, fromthe deck of his caravel he saw the light on the shore of the newworld. 

An incident worthy to be associated for ever with this, is that ofCyrus West Field, in his library, turning over a globe, after aconversation relative to extending a line of telegraph toNewfoundland, to reduce the time of the transmission of news betweenEurope and America; when the idea flashed into his mind that thetelegraph might span the Atlantic. The next day Mr. Field wrote toLieutenant Maury, of the National Observatory at Washington, and toProfessor Morse, who invented the telegraph. 

The Atlantic telegraph was as truly the conception and theaccomplishment of Mr. Field, as the discovery of America was theambition and the act of Columbus; and Chief Justice Chase was notextravagant when he said the telegraph across the ocean was "themost wonderful achievement of civilization, " and entitled "itsauthor to a distinguished rank among benefactors;" or when he added:"High upon that illustrious roll will his name be placed, and therewill it remain while oceans divide and telegraphs unite mankind. "John Bright said: "My friend Field, the Columbus of modern times, byhis cable has moored the New World alongside the Old. "

Equally lofty testimony to the splendor of his fame is that of theLondon _Times_ of August 6, 1858, saying: "Since the discovery ofColumbus, nothing has been done in any degree comparable to the vastenlargement which has thus been given to the sphere of humanactivity. "

From the first vital spark that at last glows into the bloom oflife, each human being is endowed with certain qualities andcapacities, aptitudes, inspirations, possibilities, limitations; andif one trace the stream of blood to its remotest sources, there isno inconsistency in ancestry, and the science of humanity may be asstrict within its boundaries as that of geology, or the story offruitful trees, or the magnetic constellations. 

The four famous brothers have given the Field family an almostunique celebrity in this country. They were the sons of the Rev. David Dudley Field, of Western Massachusetts, the room-mate at YaleCollege of Jeremiah Evarts, father of William M. Evarts. Field andEvarts entered college together in 1798, and graduated in 1802. TheAmerican Fields are the descendants of John Field, the astronomer ofArdsley, in Yorkshire, who gained a great reputation by publishingastronomical tables, and died in 1587. Ardsley, it has not passedfrom the general recollection, was the name of the estate on theHudson where for so many years Mr. Cyrus W. Field made his summerhome. 

The family name was in the fifteenth century changed from Feld, Feild, Felde, and Fielde, into its present form; and John Field, theastronomer, was the first to introduce the Copernican system inEngland, and he received a patent in 1558, authorizing him to bearas a crest over his family arms, an arm issuing from clouds andsupporting a globe. Dr. Richard Field, chaplain of Queen Elizabeth, was of the same family, and author of the "Book of the Church, "republished in four volumes at Oxford in 1843. 

It was the last day of autumn, November 30, 1819, at the Morgan Place, on a hill that sloped to the river, near Stockbridge, Mass. , thatCyrus West Field was born. There were three older brothers--DavidDudley, Timothy Beale, and Matthew Dickinson. The Cyrus came from aman of note in the town, named Cyrus Williams, and the West from Dr. Stephen West, the predecessor of Dr. David Dudley Field in the pulpitat Stockbridge. It is said of the child that he was of very delicateorganization, so weak and frail that his body "had to be supported bya frame in which he could roll around the room till his limbs couldget strength to bear him. " There was, however (as his younger brother, Dr. Henry M. Field, the historian of the family, says in his vigorousEnglish), "a nervous energy and elasticity derived from his mother, "that brought him up, and "once set upon his little feet, he developedby incessant motion, " and he was noted for "restless activity, " acharacteristic of his whole life. His frame, always slight, "becametough and wiry, capable of great effort and great endurance. " Cyruswas the one of the Field boys who did not go to college. When fifteenyears of age, his brother, David Dudley, who was nearly fifteen yearshis senior, and lived until his ninetieth year, secured a place forhim in the store of A. T. Stewart. Cyrus was a thorough country boy, and his mother's boy, and did not take kindly to the city at first. Dr. Field says: "I well remember hearing my brother Matthew tellmother how Cyrus had come down to the boat on which he left the city, and wept bitterly; and mother telling him, the next time he went toNew York, if his little brother felt so still, to bring him home. " Mr. Field soon grew tired of being a clerk, and launched out in themanufacture and sale of paper. His capital was his brains--and intwelve years, when he was but thirty-three years old, he was inpossession of a handsome fortune, and thought of retiring. This, however, was only a phase of restlessness, and he had before himnearly forty years of extraordinary activity. His great works andtrials, his counting his gains and losses by millions, his glory andhis sorrows, were all before him. The first of his many long journeyswas to South America, with the artist Church, who painted for him the"Heart of the Andes. " He ascended the Magdalena River, climbed theAndes to Bogota, crossed to Quito, and by way of Guayaquil, inEcuador, reached the western coast, and returned home October, 1853, in time for the golden wedding of his parents. Then he set about thetask of retirement from business, and was in a feverish state ofenergy upon that subject, and drifted into the twelve years harassingstruggle, from the time when, in his house in Gramercy Park, he satalone and turned over the globe, and thought of a telegraphic cablethrough the Atlantic, until the tremendous task was gloriouslyfinished. After writing to Maury and Morse, Mr. Field called in hisnext-door neighbor, Peter Cooper; and next called Moses Taylor, wholistened for an hour without saying a word; and brought in his mostintimate friend, Marshall O. Roberts; and then Mr. Chandler White (whodied the next year and was succeeded by Wilson G. Hunt). Theyorganized "The New York, Newfoundland and London Telegraph Company, "Field, Cooper, Taylor, and Roberts putting in $20, 000 each, and Whitea smaller sum. Field and White, with David Dudley Field as legaladviser, set forth for Newfoundland to get a charter, and called it afishing excursion. They got a land donation, and an exclusive right toland cable for fifty years. There was first to build a line oftelegraph four hundred miles through the wilderness, across the hugeisland. The land-line work lasted three years, and each of theparties who started by putting in $20, 000, put in ten times thatamount, and Field much more. The first cable across the Gulf of St. Lawrence was a failure. The second one held; and at last there rolledtwo thousand miles of tempestuous ocean, with a bottom that was amystery, between the verge of the American soil and the Irish coast. 

Mr. Cyrus W. Field visited England as an Atlantic cable missionary, and addressed the Chambers of Commerce in the principal cities, andthe members of the Government. His intense convictions and incessantenthusiasm made way. The scientific men of England were cautious buthopeful. There had been, as it happened, the year before a survey ofthe North Atlantic, disclosing conditions of the bottom of the sea, and they were reassuring. The Government was so far interested as toengage to furnish ships to lay the cable, and to guarantee £14, 000 ayear for messages sent if it proved a success--four per cent. Of theexpected cost; but the capital had to be raised by privateenterprise, and Mr. Field visited Glasgow, Birmingham, Manchester, and Liverpool, and subscribed one-fourth of the whole sum. Hispersistence was continued until the money was raised; but hisfriends in America were not eager for the stock, and he had to payinto the treasury of the company £88, 000 in gold. The completeresponsibility of Mr. Field appears at every point. He was theinspiration and the moving force from first to last. The work wasstrange, and there were delays and details of difficulty arising atevery step, that a thousand times would have been insurmountable, ifit had not been for the indomitable Field, whose tenacity evenexceeded his impetuosity. There were two governments to benegotiated with to furnish ships. The cable was at last ready and onboard--and three hundred and sixty-five years after Columbus sailedfrom the shores of Spain, Field sailed from Ireland, theLord-Lieutenant, the Earl of Carlisle, making the speech of theoccasion. The first effort was to lay the cable straight fromIreland to Newfoundland, and the start was made Wednesday, August 5, 1857. Three hundred and fifty miles out the cable broke. That wasfailure; and Field's private fortune had suffered severely from hisabsence. But the next year he was again in England and another startwas made--the ships going half-way and joining the cable and runningboth ways. The cable parted again and again, and the ships returnedto England. All were in despair but Field, and he rallied once more, and another trial was made--and succeeded. The cable lasted for afew weeks and gave out. The people were wild with delight at thesuccess, and utterly cast down and disgusted by the failure. But theproof was out; the thing could be done. Cables had been laid in theMediterranean, and final success was in sight. A new cable was madeand coiled on the Great Eastern--and when starting from Ireland andone thousand two hundred and fifty miles were out, there was a breakwhere the ocean was two miles deep, and a year was lost. Thenanother cable on the Great Eastern, and in 1866 it held out all theway over. This was the year of the war between Prussia and Austria, just after the battle of Sadowa. The next thing was to find andsplice the lost cable of the year before, and that was done, one ofthe most wonderful things that ever happened. Mr. Field told thestory before the Chamber of Commerce of New York in November, 1866, saying, after the lost cable was found and spliced: "A few minutesof suspense and a flash told of the lightning current again setfree--some turned their heads away and wept, others broke intocheers. Soon the wind arose and we were for thirty-six hours exposedto all the dangers of a storm on the Atlantic; yet in the fury ofthe gale, as I sat in the electrician's room, a flash of light cameup from the deep, which, having passed to Ireland, came back to mein mid-ocean, telling that those so dear to me, whom I had left onthe banks of the Hudson, were well, and following us with theirprayers. This was like a whisper of God from the sea, bidding mekeep heart and hope. "

The Great Eastern safely landed the second cable, and the two worldswere safely forever joined. Mr. Field said he had often, in the longstruggle--nearly thirteen years in the forests of Newfoundland, onships in stormy seas--almost accused himself of madness, sacrificingeverything for what might prove, after all, but a dream. He receivedthe thanks of Congress, with a gold medal--the grand medal of theFrench Exposition of 1867. Honors were heaped upon him. If he hadbeen a British subject, he would have been made a baronet. He hadgiven twelve years without accepting remuneration for time or toil, and his hopeful, at last haggard dream, was a marvellous goldenreality. 

He was forty-seven years of age. He visited Egypt at the opening ofthe Suez Canal in 1864. He attended the millennial celebration ofthe settlement of Iceland in August, 1874. He made with his wife atrip around the world in 1880. He was known in all civilized landsas one of the foremost men of his time. All the people of thehighest distinction in England knew and admired him as the mosttypical and celebrated of Americans. Mr. Gladstone, Mr. John Bright, the Duke of Argyle, Dean Stanley were his intimate friends. Hishouse at Gramercy Park was the scene of a splendid hospitality. There gathered in his ample parlors, stored with souvenirs fromevery land, and in his dining-room, men and women of the highestconsideration at home and abroad. 

The keenness of his intelligence had increased with hisunprecedented experience. His triumphs had given him confidence inhis executive ability, and there was nothing too daring for him tocontemplate. His bitter lessons in going to the verge of ruin, whenhe gave the fortune of his youth to the enterprise that he carriedto success, were amply pondered, and he resolved never again toallow those near and dear to him to take the chances of cruelfortune and the anxieties of impending want. 

When his years were numbered in the thirties, he was meditatingretirement from business; and when he was in the sixties, hisirrepressible activities carried him into the development of theelevated railway system on Manhattan Island, with the same ardor andfixed purpose with which, thirty years before, he had invaded thewilderness of Newfoundland to find a basis of operations for theconquest of the Atlantic. His faith was undaunted and without limit. His touch revealed new fortunes. He saw that the elevated lines thatdeveloped Harlem, would also improve lower New York; and theWashington Building, No. 1 Broadway, was the materialization of thethought. The intensity that was remarked in his childhood, and thatcommanded the confidence of the capitalists of England, knew noabatement. He had been very cautious in advising Englishmen aboutinvestments, but had imparted to some of them the assurance thatUnited States Bonds were as sound as the English investment ofnational debt, and they profited by accepting his judgment. Heinsisted upon popularizing the elevated roads by a uniform fare offive cents, and had it done against strong opposition, and was moreconfident than ever in the stock, of which he had an enormousholding. But it took years longer than he had calculated to makegood his plans, and in the interval came a financial storm thatcompelled him to submit to a heavy loss. He bore his misfortune withfortitude, and still had a competency ample for him, when there camea torrent of ill-fortune--the loss of his beloved wife, and thefailure of his sons, under circumstances that bore the distressingstamp of insanity in one of them, a taint of madness that was in theblood which had been so prolific of genius. He suffered where he wasstrongest and weakest--in his love and his pride. 

His spirit would have been invincible if his heart had not beenbroken. No husband and father was ever more solicitous for thewelfare of wife and children. The death of his wife, followed by thedisasters that overtook his sons, wounded him as mortally as if aflight of arrows had pierced him. The very contingencies of fortuneagainst which he thought he had provided with infinite painstaking, fell upon him as if from clouds in a sky he thought clear. Hisdeepest resolution was that, after the long strain of facing thetotal loss of fortune during the dark years of the cable enterprise, he never again would consent to take the chances of the catastrophethat had haunted him, and from which he had escaped at such hazardthat the fortunate interposition seemed miraculous; and he did notconsciously do the wrong to himself and dear ones he had with suchanxiety sought to avoid. His misfortunes were as incalculable asincurable. 

The family affection of the Fields is one of their distinctions, andthe love the four brothers, known to all the world, bore each other, was as gentle and full of all happiness as that of children. The"little acts of kindness, little deeds of love, " that, as the oldhymn says, would make the world an Eden, were never wanting. Thefestivals in which they delighted were those of the family--theeightieth birthday of the oldest brother--the golden wedding. In hislong travels, Mr. Field was ever thoughtful of home, and it was likehim, giving a dinner to a company of Americans in Edinburgh, totelegraph to their families so that each guest found the news ofthat day, from his own fireside, in a cablegram on his plate. 

Mr. Field was no doubt attracted to Iceland, in 1874, by his studiesof the northern waters; the way the world tapers off in the highlatitudes, and the fact that Iceland must have been often in hismind as he studied Newfoundland and Ireland, and knew that Icelandwas so near Greenland as to belong to the American continent, and tohave been a stepping-stone from Norway to Labrador. He was regardedby the Icelanders as almost as great a man as the King of Denmark, who visited his remote possession at the same time; and they thoughtField even a greater discoverer than Columbus, for they said theGenoese navigator got his knowledge of the land in the west fromtheir ancestors, and sailed on a certainty. 

On the day President Garfield was shot down, he was on his way toWilliams College, and was to dine that night with Mr. Cyrus Field atArdsley, and go to the old place he called "the sweetest in theworld" next day. A yacht was waiting to convey the President fromJersey City, when the news of the assassination became known. ThePresident suffered mentally because he had not made adequateprovision for his family, and Mr. Field headed a subscription listwith a liberal sum, and in a few days had a quarter of a milliondollars safely invested for Mrs. Garfield and her children. Themotive of this timely and apt generosity was, first, to affordconsolation to the dying chief magistrate. 

It was within the scope of the ambition of Mr. Field to span thePacific as well as the Atlantic Ocean with a cable; but havingtriumphantly overcome one ocean, he failed to put a girdle round theearth, as De Lesseps, having succeeded with the Suez Canal--the onlywork of the age to be named with the Atlantic telegraph--failed atDarien. 

If the prosperity of Mr. Field had continued, and the light had notgone out in his home, he would not have been content until he hadransacked the globe for ways and means to have followed the sun toAsia with the telegraph. His footsteps point the way, and the roadto India is westward. 

The golden wedding of Mr. And Mrs. Cyrus W. Field was attended byhundreds of those who knew and loved them, and the great doublehouse of the Fields, fronting on Gramercy Park, was full of brightfaces and glittering with lights. The historic home was soondarkened and made desolate. The master, the renowned victor--no namemore certain of an honorable immortality than his--was one whom"unmerciful disaster followed fast and followed faster. " His wifepassed away at Ardsley before the deeper gloom of the storm, and hedied there July 12, 1892. In his delirium on the morning of hisdeath, he was again on the stormy coast with the cable fleet; and hesaid: "Hold those ships--do not let them sail yet. " Through thecenturies there had descended to him from the old astronomer, hisancestor, the far-flashing conception of enterprise andunderstanding of the splendor of destiny that was his star, andmingled with its light were the gentle influences of the religion ofhis fathers, always to him real and radiant. He sleeps well, amidthe scenes where he passed his boyhood, and for which his heartyearned always--beside his beloved wife; and carved in the marble oftheir tomb as the last testimony to the loving heart of hiscompanion, are the words: "Love is eternal. " The recollection of hissorrows will not, as the centuries come and go, dim the beautifullight of his illustrious name. 

[Signature: Murat Halstead. ]

QUEEN VICTORIA

By DONALD MACLEOD, D. D. 

(Born 1819-1901)

[Illustration: Queen Victoria. ]

Well do I remember the effect produced on the audience of students, of which I was then one, when Lord Macaulay delivered his Rectorialaddress in the University of Glasgow, and when, after giving suchpictures as he alone could paint, of the character of the fourcenturies that had closed since the university had beenfounded--each epoch presenting a scene of bloodshed andmisgovernment--he sketched the possible future of the college, andanticipated the time when coming generations would tell how certaincontemplated changes had been accomplished during the reign of "theGood Queen Victoria. " The phrase was accentuated by an oratoricalswing; and when it was given, the tremendous burst of enthusiasmshowed that they who listened felt the great historian had chosenthe right epithet, and that he intended it in the sense that, assome monarchs are called "Great" and some "Little, " so for all timeVictoria would be named "the Good Queen. " This was said more thanforty years ago, before Tennyson had fixed the "Household name, ""Albert the Good, " for

 "That star Which shone so close beside Thee, that ye made One light together. "

The epoch in our history which is embraced between the years 1837and 1887, is unparalleled. At no time in the history of the nation, or of the world, has there been such rapid and beneficent progress. We, who are citizens of "the old country, " scarcely realize theextent of our dominion. The Roman Empire was one-fourth its size;all the Russias contain an eighth less; it is sixteen times as largeas France, and three times as large as the United States. The UnitedKingdom, with its colonies and dependencies, includes aboutone-fifth of the entire globe. The rapidity with which populationhas grown in some parts of our dominion may be measured byAustralasia, which in 1837 had 134, 059, and in 1885, 3, 278, 934, ortwenty-three times as many more. When we turn from these figures toconsider other fields of progress, we are still more amazed. It goeswithout saying that these last fifty years have seen the growth ofrailways and steamships from their infancy to their presentworld-embracing influence. The mileage of railways open in theUnited Kingdom in 1837 was about 294 miles, but a great proportionwas worked by horses. In 1885 the mileage was 19, 169, the grossreceipts, £69, 555, 774; they carried about 1, 275, 000, 000 passengers, and employed 367, 793 men. Not a steamer had crossed the Atlantic bysteam alone when the queen came to the throne, and her accession wasin the year previous to that during which Wheatstone in thiscountry, and Morse in America, introduced electric telegraphy. We, who enjoy express trains, six-penny telegrams, half-pennypost-cards, and the parcel post, can scarcely realize that we are sonear the time when mail-coaches and sailing-packets were almost theonly means of conveyance, and when postage was a serious burden. Thegreatness of the changes in social life may be realized when weremember that, so recently as 1844, duelling was banished from thecode of honor; that crime has diminished seventy-one per cent. Since1837; and that while fifty years ago Government did nothing foreducation, there are now 30, 000 public schools under the PrivyCouncil. These facts are suggestive of the extent of the advance. Orif, without touching on the marvellous victories of science, we tryto form an estimate of religious progress, and take the tables forProtestant missions as giving a fair indication of the zeal andself-sacrifice of the churches, we find that while Britishcontributions in 1837 amounted to £316, 610, in 1885 they reached£1, 222, 261. 

It may be said with truth that the progress thus indicated must havegone on, no matter who sat on the throne; but it would be unjust notto recognize the close influence which the Crown has directly andindirectly exercised on its advance. There has been no movementtending to the development of the arts and the industries of thecountry which has not enlisted the active sympathy of the royalfamily. From the first the Prince Consort recognized the importantpart which the sovereign could fulfil in reference to the peacefulvictories of science and art. Beginning with agriculture--theimprovement of stock and the better housing of agriculturallaborers, we trace the effect of his constant toil in the series ofindustrial triumphs, of which the great exhibition of 1851 was themagnificent precursor; and, in recent years, the same kind ofobjects have always enlisted the best energies of the queen and herchildren. 

[Illustration: Victoria greeted as Queen. ]

The contrast is great and touching between the scene in WestminsterAbbey, when, amid the pomp of a gorgeous ceremonial and theacclamation of her subjects, the fair girl-queen received the crownof Britain, and that other scene, when, after fifty years of agovernment that has been unblemished, she once more kneels in thesame spot--a widow surrounded by her children and her children'schildren, bearing the burden of many sad as well as blessedmemories, and encompassed with the thanksgivings of the threehundred millions of her subjects. We can imagine how oppressive, forone so loving, must then be the vision of the past, as she recalls, one after another, the once familiar and dear faces which greetedher coronation, those relatives, great ministers of state, andwarriors of whom so few survive; and when all her happy marriedyears and the years of parting and desolation appear in vividretrospect. But if ever monarch had cause to bless God for Histender mercies, it must be she who can combine with the memory ofher own life's hopes and trials the consciousness that, in the greatwork given her as a sovereign, she has been enabled to fulfil thebeautiful desire of her innocent childhood, when, on her first beinginformed of her royal destiny, she indulged in no vain dream ofpower, but uttered the simple longing "to be good. " That goodnesshas been her real greatness. 

The life of her majesty is marked by three great stages--her youth, her married life, and her widowhood. Each is bound to each by thetie of a consistent growth, passing through those experiences whichare typical of God's education of His children, whether high or low, rich or poor. 

Her childhood, with its wise education, is very much the key to herafter-life. Possessed naturally of a quick intellectual capacity, and an unusually accurate memory, a taste for music and the arts, and a deeply affectionate heart, she was admirably brought up by hermother, the Duchess of Kent, on whom the training of the futurequeen devolved from her infancy. If the education was as high as itwas possible to afford a young and intelligent spirit, the moralinfluences were equally beneficial. The young princess, instead ofbeing isolated within the formalities of a court, was allowed tobecome acquainted with the wants and sufferings of the poor, and toindulge her sympathies by giving them personal help. The contrastwas a great one between the court of George IV. , or even that ofWilliam, and the truly English home where the Duchess of Kentnurtured this sweet life in all that was simple, loving, and pure. There could scarcely have been a better school for an affectionatenature. All that we learn of her majesty at that time gives aconsistent picture of great vivacity, thorough directness in hersearch after truth, warmth of heart, and considerateness for others, with a genuine love for all that is morally good. These were thecharacteristics which impressed those who saw her on the tryingoccasion when she was suddenly ushered into the foremost place inthe greatest empire in the world. It was these characteristics whichtouched the hearts of the good archbishop and of the Chancellor ofEngland when they announced her great destiny to the girl suddenlysummoned from slumber. That first request, "My Lord Archbishop, prayfor me!" revealed the depth of her character. It was the same whenshe had next day to pass through the ordeal of meeting the greatcouncillors of state for the first time. Lord Melbourne, the Duke ofWellington, Peel, and the keen-eyed Secretary Greville, all felt thebeautiful combination of dignity with unaffected simplicity, and ofquick intelligence with royal courtesy. But they did not see theepisode which followed the fatigue and excitement of the longformalities of the council, when the young queen rushed first of allto her mother's arms, there to indulge her feelings in a burst oftears, and then, with girlish naïveté, claiming the exercise of herroyal prerogative to procure for herself two hours of absolutesolitude. 

The earlier years of her reign were happily blessed with the wiseand beneficent influence of Lord Melbourne. His relationship to theyouthful sovereign was more that of a father and able politicalinstructor than of a formal first minister of the crown. He was tooexperienced not heartily to appreciate the beautiful character ofhis young mistress, and the interest he took in her politicaleducation, and in everything likely to further her prosperity andhappiness, was evidently kindled by warm affection. She was equallyfavored in having as adviser so sagacious a relative as her uncleLeopold, the late King of the Belgians. The Duke of Wellingtonregarded her almost as a daughter; and there was also, ever at hand, another, whose trained intellect and loyal heart exercised no littleinfluence on her career--Baron Stockmar--to whose lofty ideal of thefunctions of royalty, calmly balanced treatment of all questions ofstate policy, and high-toned moral sympathies, both the queen andthe prince consort have amply expressed their indebtedness. 

Without touching further on the earlier period of her reign, whichwas not without many incidents of interest, we turn to the marriedyears of the queen as to a bright and sunny memory. 

The position of an unmarried or widowed queen necessarily entails apeculiar loneliness. She is surrounded by the rigorous demands ofstate necessity. If she has to form a judgment upon documentssubmitted to her, there is no one so close to her and so independentof all other influences as to be truly an _alter ego_. Faithfulservants of the crown may do their best to be of use, but no one ofthem can be so near as to receive such unguarded confidences as canbe given to the husband who shares every joy and sorrow. The queen'smarried life was ideally perfect. She married the man she loved, andeach year deepened her early affection into an admiration, areverence, and a pride which elevated her love into consecration. 

There was no home in England made more beautiful by all that wastender, cultured, and noble than that in which "the blamelessprince" fulfilled his heroic career of duty, and shed the brightlight of his joyous, affectionate, and keenly intellectual life. There were few homes in which a greater amount of trying and anxiouswork was more systematically accomplished, or in which there was amore exquisite blending of hard thinking with the enjoyment of thefine arts and the fulness of loving family happiness. We havepicture after picture given us in the life of the Prince Consortwhich puts us in touch with these brilliant years, when the queenand he were never parted but for one or two brief intervals. Earlyhours of close labor were followed by a genial and heartyrelaxation, and at every turn the wife and sovereign felt theblessedness of that presence which ministered to her in sicknesswith the gentleness of a woman, and which she leaned upon in hoursof difficulty with complete trust in the strength and trueness ofhis wise intellect. There was no decrease on either side in thosefeelings and utterances of feeling which are so beautiful when theycarry into after years the warmth of the first attachment, onlyhallowed and deepened by experience. 

[Illustration: Windsor Castle. ]

There were many fresh features in the kind of life which wasintroduced by the queen and the consort into the habits of thecourt. Among these none were more marked than the breaking up ofthat monotony which the restrictions that hitherto prevailed as tothe residence of the royal family in one or two state palacesentailed. We can well understand how the Empress Eugénie should havefound the Tuileries, in spite of its grandeur, no better than "_unebelle prison_, " and her delight at the comparative freedom sheenjoyed at Windsor. The queen and Prince Consort inaugurated a newera in the customs of the court by taking advantage of thefacilities afforded by modern methods of conveyance. Scarcely anypart of the country celebrated for scenery, or any town famous forits industries, remained unvisited by them. 

The beneficial effects of these journeys were great. Loyalty is to alarge extent a personal matter, and is necessarily deepened when therepresentative of the state not only possesses moral dignity ofcharacter but comes frequently into contact with the people. It isalso of use to the crown that its wearer should know, from actualobservation, the conditions of life in the country. It is in thelight of this mutual action of acquaintance between prince andpeople that we estimate the value of that knowledge which the Princeof Wales, his brothers, and his sons have gained of so many parts ofthe empire. The Prince Consort felt keenly the use of theseinfluences. "How important and beneficent, " he once said, "is thepart given to the royal family of England to act in the developmentof those distant and rising countries, who recognize in the Britishcrown and their allegiance to it, their supreme bond of union withthe mother country and to each other!"

During each year of their married life the queen and Prince Consortwent on some interesting tour. In England, Oxford and Cambridge, Birmingham, Leeds, Liverpool, Manchester, received royal visits, while such historical houses as Chatsworth, Hatfield, Stowe, andStrathfieldsay were honored by their presence. Ireland was thricevisited. Wales more than once. The first visit to Scotland was madein 1842, another in 1844, and from 1847 only one year passed withouta long residence in the north--first at Ardverachie, on Loch Laggan, and then at what was to be their Highland home on Deeside. Repeatedvisits were also made to the Continent, sometimes in state andsometimes in as much privacy as could be commanded. 

It is when we come to this bright time, so full of fresh interestand of a delightful freedom, that we have the advantage of thequeen's own "Leaves from the Journal of our Life in the Highlands. "Her visit to Edinburgh in 1842, and the drive by Birnam andAberfeldy to Taymouth, and the splendor of the reception, when, amidthe cheers of a thousand Highlanders and the wild notes of thebagpipes, she was welcomed by Lord Breadalbane, evidently stirredevery feeling of romance. "It seemed, " she wrote, "as if a greatchieftain of olden feudal times was receiving his sovereign. " Itappeared like a new world, when, throwing off for a time therestrictions of state, she found herself at Blair two yearsafterward, climbing the great hills of Atholl, and from the top ofTulloch looking forth on the panorama of mountain and glen. "It wasquite romantic; here we were with only this Highlander behind usholding the ponies, not a house, not a creature near us but thepretty Highland sheep, with their horns and black faces. It was themost delightful, most romantic, ride and walk I ever had. " Theseearly visits to Scotland inspired her with her love for theHighlands and the Highlanders. She found there quite a world ofpoetry. The majestic scenery, the fresh, bracing air, thepicturesqueness of the kilted gillies, the piping and the dancing, and the long days among the heather, recalled scenes which SirWalter Scott has glorified for all time, and which are especiallyidentified with the fortunes of the unhappy Stuarts, of whom she isnow the nearest representative. 

It was in 1848 that the court proceeded for the first time toBalmoral, then a picturesque but small castle. The air of Deesidehad been recommended by Sir James Clark, the queen's physician, andhis anticipation of the benefits to be derived from residence therewas so completely realized that although four years passed beforethe property was actually purchased, yet preparations were made forestablishing there a royal home. Plans for the future castle and forlaying out the grounds were gone into by the prince with keendelight. "All has become my dear Albert's own creation, own work, own building, own laying out, as at Osborne; and his great taste andthe impress of his dear hand have been stamped everywhere. "

It was here that the queen and the Prince Consort enjoyed for morethan twelve years a delightful freedom, mingling with their people, devising the wisest methods for insuring their well-being, goingwith them to worship in their plain (very plain!) parish church, andbeing to each and all unaffectedly sincere friends. Every spotaround soon became consecrated by some sweet association. Everygreat family event had its commemoration amid the scenery around thecastle; though many a cairn, once raised in joy, is now, alas! amonument of sorrow. The life at Balmoral was in every sensebeneficial. There never has been there the kind of relaxation thatcomes from idleness. Systematic work has been always maintained atBalmoral as at Windsor. Early hours in the fresh morning and aregular arrangement of time during the day have given room for theconstant business of the crown; but every now and then there wereglorious "outings, " whether for sport or for some far-reachingexpedition, which gave fresh zest to happy and united toil. 

There is more than one characteristic of the queen which may recallto Scotchmen the history of their own Stuarts, and among these isher enjoyment of expeditions _incognita_. The Prince Consort, withhis simple German heart, entered fully into the "fun" of suchjourneys, as, starting off on long rides across mountain-passes andthrough swollen burns and streams, lunching on heights from whichthey could gaze far and wide over mountain and strath, they wouldreach some little roadside inn, and there, assuming a feigned name, had the delight of feeling themselves "private people, " while thesimple fare and the ridiculous _contretemps_ which frequentlyoccurred were enjoyed the more keenly because of their contrast toaccustomed state. And during all these years their domestic life wasunbroken by any great family sorrow. It was not till a year beforeher great bereavement that the queen lost her mother, the Duchess ofKent. Few can read the account of that sorrowful parting withoutbeing drawn nearer to the sovereign by the tie of a common humanity, so deep and tender is the affection that is revealed. 

But till 1861 the queen was surrounded by all those who were dearestto her, and she and the prince shared the sweet task ofsuperintending their children's education. Few parents moreanxiously considered the best methods for securing a sound moral andreligious training. "The greatest maxim of all, " writes the queen, "is that the children shall be brought up as simply and in asdomestic a way as possible, that (without interfering with theirlessons) they should be as much as possible with their parents, andlearn to place their greatest confidence in them in all things. " Asto religious training, the queen's conviction was that it is bestwhen given to a child "day by day at his mother's knee. " It was onlythe great pressure of public duty which rendered it impossible forher to fulfil her part so completely as she desired. "It is a hardcase for me, " her majesty writes, in reference to the princessroyal, "that my occupations prevent me being with her when she saysher prayers. "

The religious convictions of the queen and the Prince Consort weredeep. They both cared little for those mere accidents andconventionalities of religion which so many magnify into essentials. The prince, eminently devout, insisted on the realities of religion. "We want not what is safe, but true, " was his commentary on theexaggerated outcry against "Essays and Reviews. " "The Gospel, andthe unfettered right to its use, " was his claim for Protestantism. For his own spirit, like that of the queen, was truly religious. Thequiet evenings spent together before communion, and the directnessand reverence with which both served God were combined with an utterabhorrence of all intolerance. Such qualities are generallymisunderstood by the narrow-minded, who have only their own"shibboleths" to test all faith, and the one Church--whatever it maybe--that they regard as "true. " The queen and the prince rose abovesuch distinctions; they shared the Catholicism of St. Paul, "Gracebe with all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. "

But these bright and happy years were doomed to a sudden ending. Itis only when we have realized all that her husband was to her thatwe can measure how fearful was the blow to her loving heart when hewho was her pride and her constant companion was laid low. We maywell feel what a shattering it brought to all that hitherto hadenriched her life, and how very desolate her position became whenshe was left in loneliness on the throne, a widow separated by herqueendom from many of those supports which others find near them, but from which she was deprived by her position. "Fourteen happy andblessed years have passed, " she wrote, in 1854, "and I confidentlytrust many more will pass, and find us in old age as we now are, happily and devotedly united. Trials we must have, but what are theyif we are together?" In God's wisdom that hope was not to berealized, and in 1861 the stroke fell, and it fell with crushingpower. 

It is not for us to lift the curtain of sorrow that fell like afuneral pall over the first years of her widowhood. For many a dayit seemed as if the grief was more than she could bear, and althoughshe was sustained through it all by God's grace, and supported bythe sympathy of the nation, yet it was naturally a long-continuedand absorbing sorrow. Other blows have fallen since then. The tenderand wise Princess Alice, and the thoughtful and cultured Duke ofAlbany, have also been gathered to their rest; and the queen has hadto mourn over one after another of her most faithful servants takenfrom her. But the hallowing hand of time, the soothing remembranceof unspeakable mercies, and the call to noble duty, have done muchto restore the strength, if not the joy, of former days. Her peoplerejoice, and the influence of the Crown is enormously strengthened, when in these later years the queen has been able once more tomingle with the nation. 

When we touch on the third period of her life--which may well betermed that of sorrow, although brightened by many happy events inthe domestic life of her children--we reach times that are familiarto every reader. These have been years in which the cares of statehave often been exceedingly burdensome. The days of anxiety duringthe Crimean War and the Indian Mutiny have more than once had theircounterpart. Afghanistan, Zululand with its Isandula, and theTransvaal War with its Majuba Hill, Egypt, and the Soudan, broughthours of sore anxiety to the sovereign; but they were probably notmore harassing to intellect and heart than the months of difficultdiplomacy which the threatening aspect of European politicsfrequently laid upon Government. 

I may say in passing that no portrait of her appears to me to bequite satisfactory. They usually have only one expression, that ofsadness and thoughtfulness, and so far they give a truerepresentation; for when there is nothing to rouse her interest andwhen she is silent, that look of sadness is doubtless what chieflyimpresses one. Her face then bears the traces of weary thought andof trying sorrow; but when she is engaged in conversation, andespecially if her keen sense of humor has been touched, hercountenance becomes lit with an exceedingly engaging brightness, orbeams with heartiest laughter. 

Her life at Balmoral since her great sorrow maintains, as far as maybe, the traditions of the happy past. She still makes expeditions, _cognita_ or _incognita_, sometimes to the scenes of formerenjoyment or to new places of interest. She has in this way visitedBlair, Dunkeld, Invermark, Glenfiddich, Invertrossachs, Dunrobin, Inverlochy, Inverary, Loch Marll, and Broxmouth. 

The queen, among her people at Balmoral, gives a splendid example toevery landlord. "The first lady in the land" is the most graciousmistress possible. Her interest is no condescending "make-believe, "as we sometimes find it in the case of others, who seek a certainpopularity among their dependents by showing spasmodic attentionswhich it is difficult to harmonize with a prevailing indifference. With the queen it is the unaffected care of one who really loves herpeople, and who is keenly touched by all that touches them. Sheknows them all by name, and in the times of their sorrow theyexperience from her a personal sympathy peculiarly soothing. Thereis indeed no part of the volumes she has given us more surprisingthan the minute knowledge she there shows of all the people who havebeen in any way connected with her. The gillies, guides, andgamekeepers, the maids who have served her, the attendants, coachmen, and footmen, are seldom mentioned without some notice oftheir lives being recorded as faithfully as is the case with peersand peeresses. How few mistresses are there who, burdened as she iswith duty, would thus hold in kindest remembrance each faithfulservant, become acquainted with their circumstances, and provide forthem in age or in trial with generous solicitude. It is this richhumanity of feeling that is her noblest characteristic. The publicare accustomed to see messages of sympathy sent by the queen incases of disaster and of accident, but they cannot know how trulythose calamities fall upon her own heart. As far as her life in theHighlands is concerned, she is now perhaps the best specimen we haveof what the old Highland chieftain used to be, only that in her casewe find the benefits of paternal government without its harshseverities. There is the same frank and hearty attachment to herdependents, the same intimate knowledge of each one of them, thesame recognition of services. It is a queenly quality to recognizewhat is worthy, no matter what the rank may be. It was from this sheplaced so much confidence in her faithful attendant, John Brown. Hergreat kindness to him was her own generous interpretation of thelong and loyal services of one who, for more than thirty years, hadbeen personal attendant on the Prince Consort and herself, leadingher pony during many a long day upon the hills, watching over hersafety in London as well as on Deeside, and who, on more than oneoccasion, protected her from peril. "His attention, care andfaithfulness cannot be exceeded, " she writes in the first volume ofthe "Leaves, " "and the state of my health, which of late years hasbeen sorely tried and weakened, renders such qualifications mostvaluable. "

FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

By LIZZIE ALLDRIDGE

(Born 1820)

A very distinguished lady nurse, who has been in half the hospitalsin Europe, once said to me: "To Florence Nightingale, who was my ownfirst teacher and inspirer, we owe the wonderful change that hastaken place in the public mind with regard to nursing. When I firstbegan my hospital training, hospital nursing was thought to be aprofession which no decent woman of any rank could follow. If aservant turned nurse, it was supposed she did so because she hadlost her character. We have changed all that now. Modern nursingowes its first impulse to Florence Nightingale. "

[Illustration: Florence Nightingale. ]

I don't suppose that any of my young readers have ever seen ahospital nurse of the now nearly extinct Gamp type; but I have. Ihave seen her, coarse-faced, thick of limb, heavy of foot, brutal inspeech, crawling up and down the stairs or about the wards, indresses and aprons that made me feel (although quite well and with agood healthy appetite) as if I would not have my good dinner justthen. These were the old-fashioned "Sairey Gamps. " But FlorenceNightingale has been too strong for even the immortal "Sairey. " Gonow through the corridors and wards of a modern hospital; everynurse you meet will be neat and trim, with spotless dress and capand apron, moving quickly but quietly to and fro, doing her workwith kindness and intelligence. 

It was in 1820, the year George the Third's long life quite fadedout, that the younger of the two daughters of William ShoreNightingale was born at Florence, and named after that lovely city. 

Mr. Nightingale, of Embley Park, Hampshire, and the Lea Hurst, Derbyshire, was a wealthy land-owner. He was of the Shores ofDerbyshire, but inherited the fortune with the name of Nightingalethrough his mother. Lea Hurst, where Miss Nightingale passed thesummer months of each year, is situated in the Matlock district, among bold masses of limestone rock, gray walls, full of fossils, covered with moss and lichen, with the changeful river Derwent nowdashing over its stony bed, now quietly winding between little daleswith clefts and dingles. Those who have travelled by the Derby andBuxton Railway will remember the narrow valleys, the mountainstreams, the wide spans of high moorland, the distant ranges ofhills beyond the hills of the district. Lea Hurst, a gable-endedhouse, standing among its own woods and commanding wonderful viewsof the Peak country, is about two miles from Cromford station. 

At Lea Hurst much of Florence Nightingale's childhood was passed. There she early developed that intense love for every livingsuffering thing, that grew with her growth, until it became themaster-passion of her life. 

Florence Nightingale always retained her belief in animals. Manyyears after her name was known all over the world, she wrote: "Asmall pet animal is often an excellent companion for the sick, forlong chronic cases especially. " An invalid, in giving an account ofhis nursing by a nurse and a dog, infinitely preferred that of thedog. "Above all, " he said, "it did not talk. " Even FlorenceNightingale's maimed dolls were tenderly nursed and bandaged. 

Mr. Nightingale was a man singularly in advance of his time asregards the training of girls. The "higher education of women" wasunknown to the general public in those days, but not to Mr. Nightingale. His daughter was taught mathematics, and studied theclassics, history, and modern languages under her father'sguidance. These last were afterward of the greatest use to her inthe Crimea. But she was no "learned lady;" only a well-educatedEnglishwoman all round. She was an excellent musician, and skilfulin work with the needle; and the delicate trained touch thusacquired stood her in good stead, for the soldiers used to say thata wound which Miss Nightingale dressed "was sure to get well. "

She felt a strong craving for work, more even than the schools andcottages, the care of the young, the sick, and the aged (in whichshe followed her mother's example) could afford her at her father'shome. Mrs. Browning tells us to

 "Get leave to work In this world; 'tis the best you get at all. "

Florence Nightingale not only got leave to work, but did so, veryquietly but very persistently. And so she became a pioneer for lesscourageous souls, and won for them also "leave to work. " Taught byher father, she soon learned to distinguish between what was reallygood work and which mere make-believe. She had many opportunities, even as a child, of seeing really fine, artistic work both inscience and art. She set up a high standard, and was never satisfiedwith anything short of the best, either in herself or others. It isa grand thing to know good work when you see it. 

The love of work, however, with Florence Nightingale, always wenthand in hand with that love for every living thing in God's worldwhich was born with her and which was never crowded out by all thiseducation. As she grew up she more and more felt that helpfulnesswas the first law of her being; but her reason and intellect havingbeen so carefully trained, she was thoroughly persuaded that, inorder to help effectually, one must know thoroughly both the causeof suffering and its radical cure. 

The study of nursing had an irresistible attraction for her. Fewpeople in England at that time valued nursing. Florence Nightingalewas convinced that indifference arose from the all but absoluteignorance of what nursing should be, and she set herself to acquirethe necessary knowledge to enable her to carry it out in the verybest and most scientific way. She never lost an opportunity ofvisiting a hospital, either at home or abroad. She gave up the lifeof so-called "pleasure, " which it was then considered a young womanof her position ought to lead, and after having very carefullyexamined innumerable nursing institutions at home and abroad, atlength went to the well-known Pastor Fliedner's Deaconesses, atKaiserswerth, where she remained for several months. 

After leaving Kaiserswerth, Miss Nightingale was for a while withthe Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul, in Paris, so anxious was she tosee how nursing was carried on under many different systems. It wasduring 1851, the year of the first Great Exhibition, that she wasthus fitting herself practically for the great task that lay beforeher in the not very distant future. 

On her return to England, Miss Nightingale found a patient thatrequired all her time and help of every kind. This patient was noneother than the Sanatorium in Harley Street for gentlewomen oflimited means. Into the saving of this valuable institution MissNightingale threw all her energy, and for two or three years, hiddenaway from the outside world, she was working day and night for herpoor suffering ladies, until at length she was able to feel that theSanatorium was not only in good health, but on the high road topermanent success. 

Florence Nightingale's own health, however, gave way under thelong-continued strain of anxiety and fatigue; she was obliged toleave the invalids for whom she had done so much, and go home forthe rest and change she so sorely needed. 

Now, while Miss Nightingale had been quietly getting "Harley Street"into working order, the gravest and most terrible changes had takenplace in the affairs of the nation, and not only in those ofEngland, but in those of the whole of Europe. In 1851, when thefirst Great Exhibition was opened, all was peace--the long peace offorty years was still unbroken--people said it never was to bebroken again, and that wars and rumors of wars had come to an end. So much for human foreknowledge. By the autumn of 1854, the horrorsof the Crimean war had reached their climax. The _Times_ was full, day by day, of the most thrilling and appalling descriptions of thehideous sufferings of our brave men--sufferings caused quite as muchby the utter breakdown of the sanitary administration as by even thedeadly battles and trenchwork; while every post was bringingagonizing private letters appealing for help. 

Men were wounded in the Crimea, the hospitals were far off atScutari, the wide and stormy Black Sea had to be crossed to reachthem; the stores of food, clothing, and medicine that might havesaved many a life were at Varna, or lost in the Black Prince; thestate of the great Barrack Hospital at Scutari was indescribablyhorrible; everybody was frantic to rush to the relief; no one knewwhat best to do; public feeling was at fever-heat. How could it beotherwise when William Howard Russell, the _Times_ correspondent, was constantly writing such true but heartrending letters as this:

"The commonest accessories of a hospital are wanting; there is notthe least attention paid to decency or cleanliness; the stench isappalling; the fetid air can barely struggle out to taint theatmosphere, save through the chinks in the walls and roofs; and forall I can observe, these men die without the least effort being madeto save them. Here they lie, just as they were let gently down onthe ground by the poor fellows, their comrades, who brought them ontheir backs from the camp with the greatest tenderness, but who arenot allowed to remain with them. The sick appear to be tended by thesick, and the dying by the dying. "

Miss Nightingale, who was then recovering from her Harley Streetnursing, deeply felt the intensity of the crisis that was moving thewhole nation; but, whereas the panic had driven most of the kindpeople who were so eager to help the army, nearly "off their heads, "it only made hers the cooler and clearer. She wrote, offering herservices to Mr. Sidney Herbert, afterward Lord Herbert, the ministerfor war, who, together with his wife, had long known her, and hadrecognized her wonderful organizing faculties, and her greatpractical experience. 

It was on October 15th that she wrote to Mr. Herbert. On the verysame day the minister had written to her. Their letters crossed. Mr. Herbert, who had himself given much attention to military hospitals, laid before Miss Nightingale, in his now historical letter, a planfor nursing the sick and wounded at Scutari. 

"There is, as far as I know, " he wrote, "only one person in Englandcapable of organizing and directing such a plan, and I have beenseveral times on the point of asking you if you would be disposed tomake the attempt. That it will be difficult to form a corps ofnurses, no one knows better than yourself. "

After specifying the difficulty in finding not only good nurses, butgood nurses who would be willing to submit to authority, he goes on:"I have this simple question to put to you. Could you go outyourself and take charge of everything? It is, of course, understoodthat you will have absolute authority over all the nurses, unlimitedpower to draw on the Government for all you judge necessary to thesuccess of your mission; and I think I may assure you of theco-operation of the medical staff. Your personal qualities, yourknowledge, and your authority in administrative affairs, all fit youfor this position. "

Miss Nightingale at once concurred in Mr. Herbert's proposal. Thematerials for a staff of good nurses did not exist, and she had toput up with the best that could be gathered on such short notice. 

On the 21st, a letter by Mr. Herbert, from the War Office, told theworld that "Miss Nightingale, accompanied by thirty-four nurses, will leave this evening. Miss Nightingale, who has, I believe, greater practical experience of hospital administration andtreatment than any other lady in this country, has, with aself-devotion for which I have no words to express my gratitude, undertaken this noble but arduous work. "

A couple of days later there was a paragraph in the _Times_ fromMiss Nightingale herself, referring to the gifts for the soldiersthat had been offered so lavishly: "Miss Nightingale neither invitesnor refuses the generous offers. Her banking account is open atMessrs. Coutts's. " On October 30th, the _Times_ republished from the_Examiner_ a letter, headed, "Who is Miss Nightingale?" and signed"One who has known her. " Then was made known to the British publicfor the first time who the woman that had gone to the aid of thesick and wounded really was; then it was shown that she was nohospital matron, but a young and singularly graceful andaccomplished gentlewoman of wealth and position, who had, not in amoment of national enthusiasm, but as the set purpose of her lifefrom girlhood up, devoted herself to the studying of God's great andgood laws of health, and to trying to apply them to the help of hersuffering fellow-creatures. 

From October 30, 1854, the heroine of the Crimean war was FlorenceNightingale, and the heroine of that war will she be while theEnglish tongue exists and English history is read. The nationalenthusiasm for her was at once intense, and it grew deeper and moreintense as week by week revealed her powers. "Less talent and energyof character, less singleness of purpose and devotion, could neverhave combined the heterogeneous elements which she gathered togetherin one common work and labor of love. "

I met the other day a lady who saw something of Miss Nightingalejust before she went out to the East. This lady tells me that MissNightingale was then most graceful in appearance, tall and slight, very quiet and still. At first sight her earnest face struck one ascold; but when she began to speak she grew very animated, and herdark eyes shone out with a peculiarly star-like brightness. 

This was the woman whose starting for the East was at once felt tobe the beginning of better things; but so prejudiced were many goodEnglish people against women-nurses for soldiers, that Mrs. Jameson, writing at the time, calls the scheme "an undertaking wholly new toour English customs, much at variance with the usual education givento women in this country. " She, sensible woman, one in advance ofher day, hoped it would succeed, but hoped rather faintly. "If itsucceeds, " she goes on, "it will be the true, the lasting glory ofFlorence Nightingale and her band of devoted assistants, that theyhave broken down a 'Chinese wall of prejudices, ' religious, social, professional, and have established a precedent which will, indeed, multiply the good to all time. "

The little band of nurses crossed the Channel to Boulogne, wherethey found the fisherwomen eager for the honor of carrying theirluggage to the railway. This display, however, seemed to MissNightingale to be so out of keeping with the deep gravity of hermission, that, at her wish, it was not repeated at any of thestopping-places during the route. The Vectis took the nurses acrossthe Mediterranean, and a terribly rough passage they had. OnNovember 5th, the very day on which the battle of Inkermann wasfought, the ship arrived at Scutari. 

Miss Nightingale and her nurses landed during the afternoon, and itwas remarked at the time that their neat black dresses formed astrong contrast to those of the usual hospital attendants. 

The great Barrack Hospital at Scutari, which had been lent to theBritish by the Turkish Government, was an enormous quadrangularbuilding, a quarter of a mile each way, with square towers at eachangle. It stood on the Asiatic shore a hundred feet above theBosphorus. Another large hospital stood near; the whole, at times, containing as many as four thousand men. The whole were placed underMiss Nightingale's care. The nurses were lodged in the southeasttower. 

The extent of corridors in the great hospital, story above story, inwhich the sick and wounded were at first laid on wretchedpalliasses, as close together as they could be placed, made herinspection and care most difficult. There were two rows ofmattresses in the corridors, where two persons could hardly passabreast between foot and foot. The mortality, when the _Times_ firsttook up the cause of the sick and wounded, was enormous. In theCrimea itself there was not half the mortality in the tents, horrible as were the sufferings and privations of the men there. 

"The whole of yesterday, " writes one of the nurses a few days afterthey had arrived, "one could only forget one's own existence, for itwas spent, first in sewing the men's mattresses together, and thenin washing them, and assisting the surgeons, when we could, indressing their ghastly wounds after their five days' confinement onboard ship, during which space their wounds had not been dressed. Hundreds of men with fever, dysentery, and cholera (the wounded werethe smaller portion) filled the wards in succession, from theovercrowded transports. "

Miss Nightingale's position was a most difficult one. Everything wasin disorder, and every official was extremely jealous ofinterference. Miss Nightingale, however, at once impressed upon herstaff the duty of obeying the doctors' orders, as she did herself. An invalids' kitchen was established immediately by her tosupplement the rations. A laundry was added; the nursing itself, was, however, the most difficult and important part of the work. 

But it would take far too much space to give all the details of thatkind but strict administration which brought comparative comfort anda low death-rate into the Scutari hospitals. During a year and ahalf the labor of getting the hospitals into working order wasenormous, but before the peace arrived they were models of what suchinstitutions may be. 

Speaking of Miss Nightingale in the hospital at Scutari, the _Times_correspondent wrote: "Wherever there is disease in its mostdangerous form, and the hand of the spoiler distressingly nigh, there is that incomparable woman sure to be seen; her benignantpresence is an influence of good comfort even amid the struggles ofexpiring nature. She is a ministering angel, without anyexaggeration, in these hospitals, and as her slender form glidesquietly along each corridor, every poor fellow's face softens withgratitude at the sight of her. When all the medical officers haveretired for the night, and silence and darkness have settled downupon these miles of prostrate sick, she may be observed, alone, witha little lamp in her hand, making her solitary rounds. With theheart of a true woman and the manner of a lady, accomplished andrefined beyond most of her sex, she combines a surprising calmnessof judgment and promptitude and decision of character. The popularinstinct was not mistaken, which, when she set out from England onher mission of mercy, hailed her as a heroine; I trust that she maynot earn her title to a higher, though sadder, appellation. No onewho has observed her fragile figure and delicate health can avoidmisgivings lest these should fail. "

Public feeling bubbled up into poetry. Even doggerel ballads sungabout the streets praised

 "The Nightingale of the East, For her heart it means good. "

Among many others, Longfellow wrote the charming poem, "The Ladywith the Lamp, " so beautifully illustrated by the statuette ofFlorence Nightingale at St Thomas's Hospital, suggested by thewell-known incident recorded in a soldier's letter: "She would speakto one and another, and nod and smile to many more; but she couldnot do it to all, you know, for we lay there by hundreds; but wecould kiss her shadow as it fell, and lay our heads on our pillowsagain, content. "

 "Lo! in that house of misery A lady with a lamp I see Pass through the glimmering gloom. And flit from room to room. 

 "And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow as it falls Upon the darkening walls. 

 "On England's annals, through the long Hereafter of her speech and song. A light its rays shall cast From portals of the past. 

 "A lady with a lamp shall stand In the great history of the land. A noble type of good Heroic womanhood. "

In the following spring Miss Nightingale crossed the Black Sea andvisited Balaclava, where the state of the hospitals in huts wasextremely distressing, as help of all kinds was even more difficultto obtain there than at Scutari. Here Miss Nightingale spent someweeks, until she was prostrated by a severe attack of the Crimeanfever, of which she very nearly died. 

But at length the Crimean war came to an end. The nation wasprepared to welcome its heroine with the most passionate enthusiasm. But Florence Nightingale quietly slipped back unnoticed to herDerbyshire home, without its being known that she had passed throughLondon. 

Worn out with ill-health and fatigue, and naturally shrinking frompublicity, the public at large has scarcely ever seen her; she hasbeen a great invalid ever since the war, and for many years hardlyever left her house. 

But her energy has been untiring. She was one of the founders of theRed Cross Society for the relief of the sick and wounded in war. When the civil war broke out in America she was consulted as to allthe details of the military nursing there. "Her name is almost moreknown among us than even in Europe, " wrote an American. During theFranco-German war she gave advice for the chief hospitals under theCrown Princess, the Princess Alice, and others. The Children'sHospital, at Lisbon, was erected from her plans. The hospitals inAustralia, India, and other places have received her care. A largeproportion of the plans for the building and organization of thehospitals erected during the last twenty-five years in England, havepassed through her hands. 

The Queen, who had followed her work with constant interest, presented her with a beautiful and costly decoration. The nationgave £50, 000 to found the Nightingale Home. In this home MissNightingale takes the deepest interest, constantly having the nursesand sisters to visit her, and learning from them the most minutedetails of its working. Great is evidently her rejoicing when one ofher "Nightingales" proves to be a really fine nurse, such a one, forinstance, as Agnes Jones, the reformer of workhouse nursing. 

This was the high position Florence Nightingale conquered for herfellow-women. Hundreds have occupied, and are still occupying, theground she won for them. "And I give a quarter of a century'sEuropean experience, " she goes on, "when I say that the happiestpeople, the fondest of their occupation, the most thankful for theirlives, are, in my opinion, those engaged in sick nursing. "

Officials in high places, ever since the Crimean war, have sent MissNightingale piles, mountains one might say, of reports and bluebooks for her advice. She seems to be able to condense any number ofthem into half a dozen telling sentences; for instance, themortality in Indian regiments, during times of peace, becameexceedingly alarming. Reports on the subject were poured in uponher. "The men are simply treated like Strasbourg geese, " she said ineffect. "They eat, sleep, frizzle in the sun, and eat and sleepagain. Treat them reasonably, and they will be well. " She haswritten much valuable advice on "How to live and not die in India. "

Children's hospitals have also engaged much of her attention. Youcannot open one of her books at hazard without being struck withsome shrewd remark, that tells how far-reaching is her observation;as in this, on the playgrounds of children's hospitals: "A largegarden-ground, laid out in sward and grass hillocks, and such waysas children like (not too pretty, or the children will be scoldedfor spoiling it), must be provided. "

Here, I am sorry to find, my space comes to an end, but not, I hope, before I have been able to sketch in some slight way what greatresults will assuredly follow, when Faith and Science are united inone person. In the days, which we may hope are now dawning, whenthese gifts will be united, not in an individual here and there, butin a large portion of our race, there will doubtless be many adevoted woman whose knowledge may equal her practical skill, and herlove for God and her fellow-creatures, who will understand, evenmore thoroughly than most of us now can (most of us being still soignorant), how deep a debt of gratitude is due to her who firstopened for women so many paths of duty, and raised nursing from amenial employment to the dignity of an "Art of Charity"--toEngland's first great nurse, the wise, beloved, and far-seeingheroine of the Crimean war, the Lady of the Lamp, FlorenceNightingale. 

DR. LOUIS PASTEUR[21]

 [Footnote 21: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By Dr. CYRUS EDSON

(1822-1895)

[Illustration: Dr. Louis Pasteur. ]

Louis Pasteur, the Columbus of "the world of the infinitelylittle"--to quote the phrase of Professor Dumas--was born in thetown of Dôle, France, on December 27, 1822. His father was an oldsoldier, decorated on the field of battle, who, after leaving thearray, earned his bread as a tanner. In 1825 M. Pasteur moved fromDôle to the town of Arbois, on the borders of the Cuisance, wherehis son began his education in the communal college. The boy wasexceedingly fond of fishing and of sketching, and it was not untilhe reached the age of fourteen that he began study in earnest. Therebeing no professor of philosophy at Arbois, Louis Pasteur moved toBesançon, where he received the degree of _bachelier ès lettres_ andwas at once appointed as one of the tutors. Here he studied thecourse in mathematics necessary for admission into the ÉcoleNormale, in Paris, which he entered in October, 1843. Already hispassion for chemistry had shown itself, and he took the lectures inthat science delivered by M. Dumas at the Sorbonne, and by M. Balardat the École Normale. It was but a short time before he became amarked man in his class, especially for his intense devotion toexperiment. Thanks to M. Delafosse, one of the lecturers of theÉcole Normale, his attention was turned to crystallography, and anote from the German chemist, Mitscherlich, communicated to theAcademy of Sciences, set him on fire with curiosity. Mitscherlichdeclared: "The paratartrate and the tartrate of soda and ammoniahave the same chemical composition, the same crystalline form, thesame angles, the same specific weight, the same double refraction, and the same inclination of the optic axes. Dissolved in water, their refraction is the same. But while the dissolved tartratecauses the plane of polarized light to rotate, the paratartrateexacts no such action. "

Pasteur at once instituted experiments resulting in the discovery ofminute facets in the tartrate which gave it the power noted. Hefound in the paratartrate these facets existed, but that there wasan equal admixture of right-and left-handed crystals, and the oneneutralized the effect of the other. He also discovered theleft-handed tartrate. These discoveries at the opening of Pasteur'scareer brought him at once to the front among the scientific men. Hefollowed them with a profound investigation into the symmetry anddissymmetry of atoms, and reached the conclusion that in these laythe basic difference between inorganic and organic matter, betweenthe absence of life and life. 

Nominated at the age of thirty-two as Dean of the Faculté desSciences, at Lille, Pasteur determined to devote a portion of hislectures to fermentation. At that time ferments were believed to be, to quote Liebig, "Nitrogenous substances--albumin, fibrin, casein;or the liquids which embrace them--milk, blood, urine--in a state ofalteration which they undergo in contact with air. " Pasteur examinedthe lactic ferment and found little rods, 1/25000 inch in length, which nipped themselves in the centre, divided into two, grew tofull length and divided again, and these living things he declaredto be the active principles of the ferment. He made a mixture ofyeast, chalk, sugar, and water, added some of the rods, and gotfermentation. He then made a mixture of sugar, water, phosphate ofpotash, and magnesia, and introducing fresh cells, fermentationfollowed. Liebig's theory of the nitrogenous character of theferment disappeared when fermentation was caused in a mixture havingno nitrogenous elements. 

Pasteur had discovered that fermentation was a phenomenon ofnutrition; it followed the increase and growth of the little rods. The next step was the discovery of the ferment of butyric acid, aspecies of vibrio consisting of little rods united in chains of twoor three and possessed of movement. He found these vibrios livedwithout air. Further experiments showed there were ferments to whichair was necessary, called by Pasteur the _ærobics_, and others towhom oxygen was fatal, the _anærobics_. He proved, also, by anexhaustive series of experiments, that what is called putrefactionof animal matter is the result of the combined work of the _ærobics_and the _anærobics_, which reduce that part not taken up by oxygento dead organic matter, ready in its turn to form food for livingthings. 

His attention having been turned to the needs of the vinegar makersof Orleans, Pasteur began the examination of the ferment whichproduces vinegar from wine. He found this in the mycoderm aceto, amould-like plant which has the power of developing acetic acid fromalcohol. As the result of his investigation, the manufacturers ofvinegar in France were able to do away with the cumbrous processthey had long followed, and to make vinegar, not only more cheaply, but of very much better quality. But during these experimentsPasteur found the temperature of 65° C. Was sufficient to kill themycoderm. When, then, the wine makers of France appealed to him toinvestigate the "diseases" of wine, he was ready for the work. 

Before this, however, he had examined the claims of Pouchet andothers to their alleged discovery of spontaneous generation; inother words, the production of life. Ranging himself against them, Pasteur showed their experiments not to have been conclusive, simplybecause they had not succeeded in excluding the dust which containedgerms of life in the shape of spores of microscopic plants. 

The "diseases" of wine produce sour wine, wine that "spirits, ""greasy" wine, and bitter wine. Pasteur found each to be due to adifferent microscopic ferment, all of which could be killed by heat. He placed bottles of wine in a bath heated to 60° C. , and invitedthe most experienced wine tasters of Paris to try them afterward. The result of the test was the unanimous verdict that the wines hadnot been injured in the least, and to-day these "diseases" of wineare a thing of the past. 

There are departments in France where the culture of the silk-wormis the principal industry of the inhabitants. In 1849 a strangedisease, called pebrine, broke out among the worms; they were unableto moult and died before the cocoons were spun. It spread in themost alarming manner until, from a crop with an average of onehundred and thirty million francs a year, the production of silkwent to less than fifty millions. The silk cultivators sent foreggs--seed is the technical name--to Italy and Greece, and for oneseason all went well. The next, the plague was as bad as ever. Morethan that, it spread to Italy, Spain, Greece, and Turkey, untilJapan was the only silk-producing country where the worm washealthy. Societies and governments, as well as individuals, wereaghast, for the silk industry of the world was on the verge ofannihilation, and every remedy the mind of man could conceive wastried, only to be rejected. In France alone the loss in 1865 wasover one hundred million francs. 

At the suggestion of Professor Dumas, the Government induced Pasteurto examine into the "disease. " He had seen in a report on theepidemic made by M. De Quatrefages, that there were found in thediseased worms certain minute corpuscles only to be seen under themicroscope. When in June, 1865, Pasteur arrived in the town ofAlais, he found these corpuscles without difficulty. He traced themfrom the worm to the chrysalid, in the cocoon, and thence to themoth; he found worms hatched from the eggs laid by these mothsinvariably developed the corpuscles. He crushed a corpuscular mothin water, painted a mulberry leaf with it, fed it to a healthy worm, and the corpuscles developed. He hatched eggs from moths free fromcorpuscles and secured healthy worms. While working on the"disease, " Pasteur discovered in 1867 that the mortality among theworms was in part due to another disease, the _flacherie_, and thishe found was the result of imperfect digestion. 

[Illustration: Pasteur in his Laboratory. ]

_Flacherie_ was contagious, and was caused by the fermentation of thefood eaten in the body of the worm. The causes of this fermentation, the condition of the leaves, the temperature, and others were pointedout. As the result of five years' work, Pasteur had restored the silkindustry to its former position, and had shown that the microscopicexamination of the moth laying the eggs to be hatched was a perfectsafeguard against _pebrine_ and _flacherie_. 

At the request of the emperor, Pasteur went to the Villa Vicentia, in Austria, belonging to the prince imperial. For ten years the silkharvest there had not paid the cost of the eggs. 

Although he was just recovering from an attack of paralysis broughton by overwork, Pasteur travelled to Austria, introduced his methodsand the sale of the cocoons gave the villa a net profit of26, 000, 000 francs. No wonder it was said of him that his discoveriesalone exceeded in money value to the French people the war indemnitypaid by them to the Germans. 

Splenic fever, called _charbon_ in France, had for years decimatedthe flocks in France, Italy, Russia, Egypt, Hungary, and Brazil. Itattacked the horse and cow as well as the sheep, and human beingsdied of it when they developed malignant pustule. Many scientificmen had studied it, but Dr. Davaine, in 1850, was the first to findin the blood of a sheep that had died of the disease, "littlethread-like bodies about twice the length of a blood-corpuscle. These little bodies exhibit no spontaneous motion. "

Pasteur began the examination of splenic fever by securing some ofthe blood from an animal dying from it. In the work before him heassociated with himself M. Joubert, one of his former pupils. A dropof the blood sown in the water of yeast--the medium used forcultures by Pasteur at that time--produced myriads of the rods, thebacilli or microbes. A drop of this taken at the end of twenty-fourhours, and placed in a fresh flask of the medium, again producedthousands of the bacilli. Pasteur found that guinea-pigs inoculatedfrom the first flask developed the fever, and the same resultfollowed when the inoculation was from the twentieth. He had proved, then, that splenic fever was produced by the bacilli, by livingorganisms only to be seen with a powerful microscope. 

While working on the bacilli of splenic fever, Pasteur had isolatedthe bacillus of chicken cholera, had cultivated it and hadinoculated chickens with it, developing the disease. He found thatso long as the cultures were made from flask to flask withintwenty-four hours, the virus of the disease, that is, the power ofthe bacilli to produce cholera in the fowls inoculated, remained thesame and the fowl died. But he discovered that if a flask containingthe bacilli were left exposed to the air for two weeks, and thefowls were then inoculated with bacilli from this flask, they becamesick, but did not die. Following this up, he inoculated a hen thathad recovered from a sickness so produced, with the bacilli in theirstrongest and most virulent form, and the hen showed no effectwhatever. Then he took two hens, one fresh from the coop and theother well again after the sickness produced by the inoculation withthe exposed bacilli, and inoculated both with the blood of a henthat was dying of chicken cholera. The first died, the second wasaffected. In other words, Pasteur had made the greatest discovery inphysiology of this century. He had found it is possible to attenuatethe virus of a virulent disease, and to use that virus so attenuatedas a vaccine matter which will guard the animal vaccinated againstthe disease. He had taken Jenner's discovery, and proved it appliedto other diseases besides small-pox. 

Pasteur's theory of the reason why any vaccine matter will have itsprophylactic effect, is this: He believes there is in the blood ofany animal subject to a disease caused by bacilli some substancewhich is necessary to the sustenance of those bacilli; and when thebacilli, having an attenuated virus, are introduced, they slowlyconsume all of this substance. 

The substance being one which nature creates very slowly, nosubsequent introduction of the bacilli, however virulent, canproduce the disease until such time shall have elapsed that a newsupply of the substance shall have been secreted. In this way heaccounts for the fact that vaccination will protect from small-poxfor a more or less defined period of time. 

Pasteur hastened to apply his discovery of the attenuation of thevirus of chicken cholera to the virus of splenic fever. Here, however, he was met with a serious difficulty. The microbes ofsplenic fever, if left in the flask for forty-eight hours, developedbright spots, and gradually into these spots the bacilli themselvesseemed to be absorbed. Pasteur found these spots were the spores orseeds of the microbes, and he also found that, while the bacillicould be killed easily in various ways, the spores possessed a muchgreater resistance. They could be dried, for example, and preservedin that state indefinitely. It was apparent that the oxygenationwhich attenuated the venom of the bacilli of chicken cholera wasimpossible with those of splenic fever if the bacilli of the latterdisappeared within a week, leaving the spores behind. But Pasteurhad discovered before this that, unless the temperature of a fowlwere lowered artificially, inoculation with the microbes of splenicfever would not produce the disease. From this he argued that, asthe heat of the fowl's body was sufficient to resist the contagion, the bacilli themselves must be extremely sensitive to variations intemperature. He tried the experiment and found, by lowering thetemperature of the flasks containing the cultures, he could preventthe formation of the spores. He then attenuated the venom of thesplenic bacilli as he had that of the fowl cholera, tried it onguinea-pigs, found they became sick and recovered; inoculated themwith the bacilli of full strength, but with no result. Pursuing hisexperiments, he discovered that he could by using vaccine-attenuatedbacilli, of unequal strength, cause any degree of sickness hepleased. 

In the early part of 1881 Pasteur agreed to hold a public exhibitionof his vaccine for splenic fever, the animals to be supplied by theSociety of Agriculture in Melun. The experiment was begun on May5th. Pasteur inoculated twenty-four sheep, one goat, and six cowswith six drops each of attenuated virus, and twelve days afterwardhe reinoculated them with a stronger virus. On May 31st hereinoculated the thirty-one animals with the strongest virus ofsplenic fever, and at the same time inoculated twenty-five sheep andfour cows which had not been vaccinated as were the others. On June2d over two hundred people assembled at the farm to see the result. The twenty-five sheep that had not been vaccinated all died beforethat evening. The non-vaccinated cows had intense fever and greatswellings, and could scarcely stand up. On the other hand, thevaccinated sheep and cows were in full health and were feedingquietly. Pasteur had conquered splenic fever. 

Having attenuated the virus of these bacilli, Pasteur began a seriesof experiments to determine whether the attenuated virus could beintensified until its former venom was obtained. This he succeededin, and thus discovered what is probably the key to the solution ofthe problem of the periodicity of epidemics of contagious diseases, such as cholera. In 1882 Pasteur's attention was called to a newdisease, swine fever (_rouget_), which was ravaging the herds ofswine in France. He found the microbes, attenuated them, vaccinatedthe pigs, and secured the most favorable results. He also discoveredthat by passing the microbe of a disease through an animal notsubject to that disease, he attenuated it so far as its effects onanother were concerned. 

It was in 1880 that Pasteur first began his experiments inhydrophobia. Securing the saliva of a child suffering from thedisease, he inoculated rabbits with it and they died in thirty-sixhours. He examined the saliva and the blood of the rabbits, andfound in both a new microbe (a minute disk having two points). Heestablished by repeated experiments that hydrophobia is a disease ofthe nerves, that a portion of the medulla oblongata, or of thespinal cord, is very much more certain to produce the disease, whenintroduced into the blood or placed on the brain, than is thesaliva. He succeeded at last in isolating the microbe, in makingcultures of it, and then attenuating it, and in May, 1884, heproduced before a commission appointed by the Minister of PublicInstruction the following results:

Of six dogs unprotected by vaccination, three died as the results ofbites of a dog violently mad. Of eight unvaccinated dogs, six diedafter extra-venous inoculation of rabic matter. Of five unvaccinateddogs, all died after inoculation, by trepanning, of the brain withrabic matter. Of twenty-three vaccinated dogs, not one was attackedwith the disease after inoculation, in any fashion, with the mostvirulent rabic matter procurable. 

During his long and busy life Louis Pasteur has been honored afterevery fashion known to men. He has opened the gates of knowledgewider than they were ever opened before, and in his discovery of thegerms of disease, and in his still more wonderful discovery of thepossibility of attenuating those germs and converting them intovaccines, he has revolutionized all ideas of physiology. He is oneof the greatest pioneers in science that has ever lived, and hiswork will make his name illustrious so long as men shall continue onthis earth. The lesson of his life is the supreme value ofexperiment; for, as was once said of him by Professor Dumas, "Pasteur is never mistaken, because he never asserts anything hecannot show another man how to prove. "

[Signature: Cyrus Edson. ]

GENERAL CHARLES GEORGE GORDON

By Colonel R. H. VEITCH, R. E. 

1833-1885

[Illustration: General Charles George Gordon. ]

Charles George Gordon, known as Chinese Gordon, major-general, C. B. , royal engineers, fourth son of Lieutenant-general Henry WilliamGordon, royal artillery, and Elizabeth, daughter of Samuel Enderby, of Croom's Hill, Blackheath, was born at Woolwich on January 28, 1833. He was sent to school at Taunton in 1843, and entered theRoyal Military Academy at Woolwich in 1848. He obtained a commissionin the royal engineers on June 23, 1852, and, after the usual courseof study at Chatham was quartered for a short time at Pembroke Dock. In December, 1854, he received his orders for the Crimea, andreached Balaklava on January 1, 1855. As a young engineer subalternserving in the trenches, his daring was conspicuous, while hisspecial aptitude for obtaining a personal knowledge of the movementsof the enemy was a matter of common observation among his brotherofficers. He was wounded on June 6, 1855, and was present at theattack on the Redan on June 18th. On the surrender of SebastopolGordon accompanied the expedition to Kinburn, and on his return wasemployed on the demolition of the Sebastopol docks. For his servicesin the Crimea Gordon received the British war medal and clasp, theTurkish war medal, and the French Legion of Honor. 

In May, 1856, in company with lieutenant (now major-general) E. R. James, R. E. , he joined Colonel (now General Sir) E. Stanton, R. E. , in Bessarabia, as assistant commissioner for the delimitation of thenew frontier line. This duty was completed in April, 1857, and hewas then sent with Lieutenant James in a similar capacity toErzeroum, where Colonel (now General Sir) Lintorn Simmons was theEnglish commissioner for the Asiatic frontier boundary. The work wasaccomplished by the following October, when Gordon returned toEngland. In the spring of 1858 he and Lieutenant James were sent ascommissioners to the Armenian frontier to superintend the erectionof the boundary posts of the line they had previously surveyed. Thiswas finished in November, and Gordon returned home, having acquiredan intimate knowledge of the people of the districts visited. 

On April 1, 1859, Gordon was promoted captain, and about the sametime appointed second adjutant of the corps at Chatham, a post heheld for little more than a year, for, in the summer of 1860, hejoined the forces of Sir James Hope Grant, operating with the Frenchagainst China. He overtook the allied army at Tientsin, and waspresent in October at the capture of Pekin and the pillage anddestruction of the emperor's summer palace. For his services in thiscampaign he received the British war medal with clasp for Pekin anda brevet majority in December, 1862. Gordon commanded the royalengineers at Tientsin, when the British forces remained there underSir Charles Staveley, and while thus employed made severalexpeditions into the interior, in one of which he explored aconsiderable section of the great wall of China. In April, 1862, hewas summoned to Shanghai to assist in the operations consequent uponthe determination of Sir Charles Staveley to keep a radius of thirtymiles round the city clear of the rebel Taipings. Gordon took partas commanding royal engineer, in the storming of Sing-poo andseveral other fortified towns and in clearing the rebels out ofKah-ding. He was afterward employed in surveying the country roundShanghai. 

The Taiping rebellion was of so barbarous a nature that its suppressionhad become necessary in the interest of civilization. A force raised atthe expense of the Shanghai merchants, and supported by the ChineseGovernment, had been for some years struggling against its prowess. Thisforce, known as the "Ever Victorious Army, " was defeated at Taitsan, February 22, 1863. Li Hung Chang, governor-general of the Kiangprovinces, then applied to the British commander-in-chief for theservices of an English officer, and Gordon was authorized to accept thecommand. He arrived at Sung Kiong and entered on his new duties as amandarin and lieutenant-colonel in the Chinese service on March 24, 1863. His force was composed of some three to four thousand Chinese, officered by 150 Europeans of almost every nationality and often ofdoubtful character. By the indomitable will of its commander thisheterogeneous body was moulded into a little army, whose high-soundingtitle of "Ever Victorious" became a reality, and in less than two years, after thirty-three engagements, the power of the Taipings was completelybroken and the rebellion stamped out. The maintenance of discipline wasa perpetual struggle, and at one time there was a mutiny which was onlyquelled by shooting the ringleader on the spot. Before the summer of1863 was over, Gordon captured Kahpoo, Wokong, and Patachiaow, on thesouth of Soo-chow, the great rebel stronghold, and, sweeping round tothe north, secured Leeku, Wanti, and Fusaiqwan, so that by OctoberSoo-chow was completely invested. On November 29th the outworks werecaptured by assault and the city surrendered on December 6th. Gordon wasalways in front in all these storming parties, carrying no other weaponthan a little cane. His men called it his "magic wand, " regarding it asa charm that protected his life and led them on to victory. 

When Soo-chow fell, Gordon had stipulated with the governor-general, Li, for the lives of the Wangs (rebel leaders). They weretreacherously murdered by Li's orders. Indignant at this perfidy, Gordon refused to serve any longer with Governor Li, and when onJanuary 1, 1864, money and rewards were heaped upon him by theemperor, declined them all, saying that he received the approbationof the emperor with every gratification, but regretted mostsincerely that, "owing to the circumstances which occurred since thecapture of Soo-chow, he was unable to receive any mark of hismajesty the emperor's recognition. "

After some months of inaction it became evident that if Gordon didnot again take the field the Taipings would regain the rescuedcountry. On the urgent representations of the British envoy atPekin, Governor Li was compelled to issue a proclamation exoneratingGordon from all complicity in the murder of the Wangs. Gordon thenreluctantly consented to continue his services, on the distinctunderstanding that in any future capitulation he should not beinterfered with. In December, 1863, a fresh campaign was commenced, and during the following months no fewer than seven towns werecaptured or surrendered. In February, 1864, Yesing and Liyang weretaken, but at Kintang Gordon met with a reverse and was himselfwounded for the first time. He nevertheless continued to give hisorders until he had to be carried to his boat. After some othermishaps he carried Chan-chu-fu by assault on April 27th. Thegarrison consisted of 20, 000 men, of whom 1, 500 were killed. Thisvictory not only ended the campaign but completely destroyed therebellion, and the Chinese regular forces were enabled to occupyNankin in the July following. The large money present offered toGordon by the emperor was again declined, although he had spent hispay promoting the efficiency of his force, so that he wrote home, "Ishall leave China as poor as when I entered it. " The emperor, however, bestowed upon him the yellow jacket, and peacock's featherof a mandarin of the first class, with the title of Ti-Tu, thehighest military rank in China, and a gold medal of distinction ofthe first class. The merchants of Shanghai presented him with anaddress expressing their admiration of his conduct of the war. 

On his return home, in the beginning of 1865, he was made a C. B. , having previously received his brevet as lieutenant-colonel inFebruary, 1864. In September, 1865, he was appointed commandingroyal engineer at Gravesend, and for the next six years carried outthe ordinary duties of the corps, superintending the construction ofthe forts for the defence of the Thames. During this quiet anduneventful period of routine work he devoted his spare time to thepoor and sick of the neighborhood, stinting himself that he mighthave larger means wherewith to relieve others. He took specialinterest in the infirmary and the ragged schools. He took many ofthe boys from the schools into his own house, starting them in lifeby sending them to sea, and he continued to watch the futureprogress of his kings, as he called them, with never-failingsympathy. 

In October, 1871, Gordon was appointed British member of theinternational commission at Galatz for the improvement of thenavigation of the Sulina mouth of the Danube, in accordance withthe Treaty of Paris. During his tenure of this office he accompaniedGeneral Sir John Adye to the Crimea to report on the Britishcemeteries there. On his way back to Galatz, in November, 1872, hemet Nubar Pasha at Constantinople, who sounded him as to hissucceeding Sir Samuel Baker in the Soudan. The following year Gordonvisited Cairo on his way home, and on the resignation of Sir SamuelBaker was appointed governor of the equatorial provinces of CentralAfrica, with a salary of £10, 000 a year. He declined to receive morethan £2, 000. 

Gordon went to Egypt in the beginning of 1874, and left Cairo inFebruary for Gondokoro, the seat of his government, travelling bythe Suez-Swakin-Berber route. He reached Khartoum on March 13th, stopped only a few days to issue a proclamation and makearrangements for men and supplies, then, continuing his journey, arrived at Gondokoro on April 16th. The garrison of Gondokoro atthis time did not dare to move out of the place except in armedbands; but in the course of a year the confidence of the natives hadbeen gained, the country made safe, eight stations formed andgarrisoned, the government monopoly of ivory enforced, andsufficient money sent to Cairo to pay all the expenses of theexpedition. At the close of the year, having already lost bysickness eight members of his small European staff, Gordontransferred the seat of government from the unhealthy station, Gondokoro, to Laido. By the end of 1875 Gondokoro and Duffh had beenjoined by a chain of fortified posts, a day's journey apart, theslave-dealers had been dispersed, and a letter post organized totravel regularly between Cairo and the verge of the Albert Nyanza, over two thousand miles as the crow flies. 

Gordon had also visited Magungo, Murchison Falls, and Chibero, witha view to a further line of fortified posts, and he established forthe first time, by personal observation, the course of the VictoriaNile into Lake Albert. Although he had accomplished a great worksince his arrival, his efforts to put down the slave trade werethwarted by Ismail Pasha Yacoub, governor-general of the Soudan, andwere likely to prove abortive so long as the Soudan remained adistinct government from that of the equatorial provinces. He, therefore, at the end of 1876, resigned his appointment and returnedto England. Strong pressure was put upon him by the khédive toreturn, and on January 31, 1877, he left for Cairo, where hereceived the combined appointment of governor-general of the Soudan, Darfour, the equatorial provinces, and the Red Sea littoral, on theunderstanding that his efforts were to be directed to theimprovement of the means of communication and the absolutesuppression of the slave trade. Gordon first visited Abyssinia, where Walad el Michael was giving a great deal of trouble on theEgyptian frontier. He settled the difficulty for a time andtravelled across country to Khartoum, where he was installed asgovernor-general, May 5th. After a short stay there he hastened toDarfour, which was in revolt; with a small force and rapid movementshe quelled the rising, and, by the humane consideration he showedfor the suffering people, won their confidence and pacified theprovince. Before this work was completely accomplished his attentionwas called away by the slave-dealers, who, headed by Suleiman, sonof the notorious Zebehr, with 6, 000 armed men, had moved on Darafrom their stronghold, Shaka. Gordon left Fischer on August 31, 1877, with a small escort, which he soon outstripped, and in a dayand a half, having covered eighty-five miles on a camel, enteredDara alone, to the surprise of its small garrison. The followingmorning, attended by a small escort, he rode into the rebel camp, upbraided Suleiman with his disloyalty, and announced his intentionto disarm the band and break them up. Gordon's fearless bearing andstrong will secured his object, and Suleiman returned with his mento Shaka. 

They rose again; and Gordon's Italian aide, Gessi, after a year'smarching and fighting, succeeded in capturing Suleiman, and some ofthe chief slave-dealers with him. They were tried as rebels andshot. The suppression of the slave trade had thus been practicallyaccomplished when on July 1st news arrived of the deposition ofIsmail and the succession of Tewfik, which determined Gordon toresign his appointment. On arriving at Cairo, the khédive inducedhim first to undertake a mission to Abyssinia to prevent, ifpossible, an impending war with that country. Gordon went, saw KingJohn, at Debra Tabor, but could arrive at no satisfactoryunderstanding with him, and was abruptly dismissed. On his way toKassala he was made prisoner to King John's men and carried toGarramudhiri, where he was left to find his way with his littleparty over the snowy mountains to the Red Sea. He reached Massowahon December 8, 1879, and on his return to Cairo, the khédiveaccepted his resignation. He arrived in England early in January, 1880. During his service under the khédive, Gordon received both thesecond-and first-class of the order of the Medjidieh. 

His constitution was so much impaired by his sojournings in sodeadly a climate that his medical advisers sent him to Switzerlandto recruit. He returned to England, in April, 1880, and in thefollowing month accompanied the Marquis of Ripon, the new Viceroy ofIndia, to that country as his private secretary. He resigned almostimmediately, and was invited to China to advise the ChineseGovernment in connection with their then strained relations withRussia. Gordon accepted at once, and although difficulties wereraised by the home authorities, he reached Hongkong on July 2d, andwent on by Shanghai and Chefoo to Tientsin to meet his old friend, Li Hung Chang, who, with Prince Kung, headed the peace party. FromTientsin, Gordon went to Pekin, and his wise and disinterestedcounsels in favor of peace at length carried the day. 

In 1881 he went to Mauritius as commanding royal engineer, and whilethere was promoted major-general. In 1882, he was at the CapeColony, endeavoring to arrange a peace with the natives ofBasutoland; but he failed, largely through the treachery of the Capeofficials. 

[Illustration: Gordon attacked by El Mahdi's Arabs. ]

The success of the Mahdi in the Soudan and the catastrophe to HicksPasha, in November, 1883, had induced the British Government, notonly to decline any military assistance to enable the EgyptianGovernment to hold the Soudan, but to insist upon its abandonment bythe khédive. To do this it was necessary to bring away the garrisonsscattered all over the country, and such of the Egyptianpopulation as might object to remain. To Gordon was intrusted thewithdrawal of the garrisons and the evacuation of the Soudan. AtCairo his functions were considerably extended. He was appointed, with the consent of the British Government, governor-general of theSoudan, and was instructed, not only to effect the evacuation of thecountry, but to take steps to leave behind an organized independentgovernment. 

By the month of March, having succeeded in sending some two thousandfive hundred people down the Nile into safety, Gordon found himselfgetting hemmed in by the Mahdi and no assistance coming fromwithout. On April 16, 1884, his last telegram before the wires werecut complained bitterly of the neglect of the Government. The attackof Khartoum began on March 12th, and from that time to its fallGordon carried on the defence with consummate skill. His resourceswere small, his troops few, and his European assistants could becounted on the fingers of one hand; yet he managed to convert hisriver steamers into iron-clads, to build new ones, to make and laydown land mines, to place wire entanglements, and to executefrequent sorties, while he kept up the spirits and courage of hisfollowers by striking medals in honor of their bravery, and baffleda fanatic and determined foe for over ten months, during the latterpart of which the people who trusted him were perishing from diseaseand famine, and the grip of the enemy was tightening. 

In April the necessity of a relief expedition was pressed upon theGovernment at home, but without avail. In May popular feeling foundvent, not only in public meetings but in the House of Commons, whena vote of censure on the Government was lost by only twenty-eightvotes. Eventually, proposals were made to send a relief expeditionfrom Cairo in the autumn, and on August 5th a vote of credit for£300, 000 was taken for "operations for the relief of General Gordon, should it become necessary, and to make certain preparations inrespect thereof. " Even when it was decided that Lord Wolseley shouldtake command of a relief expedition up the Nile, hesitationcontinued to mark the proceedings of the Government, and time, sovaluable on account of the rising of the Nile, was lost. It wasSeptember 1st before Lord Wolseley was able to leave England. Theneverything was done, but the delay had been fatal. 

In September, 1884, having driven the rebels out of Berber, Gordonauthorized his companions, Colonel Stewart and Frank Power (_Times_correspondent), to go down the river in the steamer Abbas to opencommunication with Dongola. The steamer struck on a rock, and theywere both treacherously murdered. Gordon was now the only Englishmanin Khartoum. On December 20th, Lord Wolseley launched Sir HerbertStewart's expedition from Korti across the desert to Metemmeh, where, after two severe engagements, it arrived on January 20, 1885, under command of Sir Charles Wilson, Stewart having been mortallywounded. In order to succor the advancing force, Gordon had deprivedhimself for three months of five out of his seven steamers. Thesefive steamers, fully armed, equipped, and provisioned, were inwaiting, and in them were his diaries and letters up to December14th. On that date he wrote to Major Watson, R. E. , at Cairo, thathe thought the game was up, and a catastrophe might be expected inten days' time, and sent his adieux to all. On the same day he wroteto his sister: "I am quite happy, thank God, and like Lawrence, Ihave tried to do my duty. " His diary ended on the same day with: "Ihave done the best for the honor of my country. Good-by. " It wasnecessary for the safety of his troops that Wilson should first makea reconnoissance down the river toward Berber before going toKhartoum, and when he started up the river, on January 24th, thedifficulties of navigation were so great that it was midday on the28th before the goal was reached, and then only to find it in thehands of the Mahdi, Khartoum having fallen early on the 26th, aftera siege of 317 days. 

From the most accurate information since obtained, it appears thatthe garrison, early in January, had been reduced to great straitsfor want of food, and great numbers of the inhabitants had availedthemselves of Gordon's permission to join the Mahdi. Omdurman, opposite to Khartoum, on the west bank of the river, fell aboutJanuary 13th, and about the 18th a sortie was made, in which someserious fighting took place. The state of the garrison then grewdesperate. Gordon continually visited the posts by night as well asday, and encouraged the famished garrison. The news of Sir HerbertStewart's expedition, and the successful engagements it had foughton the way to Metemmeh, determined the Mahdi to storm Khartoumbefore reinforcements could arrive for its relief. The attack wasmade on the south front at 3. 30 a. M. , on Monday, January 26, 1885. The defence was half-hearted, treachery was at work, and Gordonreceived no tidings of the assault. The rebels made good theirentrance, and then a general massacre ensued. The accounts ofGordon's death are confused and conflicting, but they all agree instating that he was killed near the gate of the palace, and his headcarried to the Mahdi's camp. 

Intelligence of the catastrophe reached England on Thursday, February 5th. The outburst of popular grief, not only in thiscountry and her colonies, but also among foreign nations, has hardlybeen paralleled. It was universally acknowledged that the world hadlost a hero. Friday, March 13th, was then observed as a day ofnational mourning, and special services were held in the cathedralsand in many churches of the land, those at Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's being attended by the royal family, members of both houses ofparliament, and representatives of the naval and military services. Parliament voted a national monument to be placed in TrafalgarSquare, and a sum of £20, 000 to his relatives. More generalexpression was given to the people's admiration of Gordon'scharacter by the institution of the "Gordon Boys' Home" for homelessand destitute boys. Gordon's sister presented to the town ofSouthampton her brother's library, in March, 1889. 

Gordon's character was unique. Simple-minded, modest, and almostmorbidly retiring, he was fearless and outspoken when occasionrequired. Strong in will and prompt in action, with a naturally hottemper, he was yet forgiving to a fault. Somewhat brusque in manner, his disposition was singularly sympathetic and attractive, winningall hearts. Weakness and suffering at once enlisted his interest. Caring nothing for what was said of him, he was indifferent topraise or reward, and had a supreme contempt for money. His wholebeing was dominated by a Christian faith, at once so real and soearnest that, although his religious views were tinged withmysticism, the object of his life was the entire surrender ofhimself to work out whatever he believed to be the will of God. 

GENERAL GEORGE A. CUSTER[22]

 [Footnote 22: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS

(1839-1876)

[Illustration: General George A. Custer. ]

Daring is always popular. The dashing fighter outranks the tacticianand takes precedence over the engineer when the people's plauditsfor valor fill the air. To be the _beau sabreur_ of the army, as wasMurat, in Napoleon's day, and as Custer was in Grant's, is asglorious as it is dramatic, as inspiring as it is picturesque. Therewere, in fact, many points of resemblance between these two dashingcavalry leaders--Murat, the Frenchman, and Custer, the American. Both smelled powder as the aides-de-camp of their chiefs; both roserapidly from grade to grade, and from rank to rank, until they stoodat the top; both labored at the end under the burden of criticismand detraction; and both met their death through a mistake, and felllike brave and gallant soldiers. 

George Armstrong Custer was born at New Rumley, in the State ofOhio, on December 5, 1839. His father was a blacksmith and farmer, of German stock, a descendant of a Hessian officer named Küstu--oneamong many who came to conquer and remained to live and die ascitizens of the land they had failed to subjugate. 

Young Custer was educated in the district school of New Rumley, andin the academy at Monroe, in Michigan, where he went in 1849 to livewith his sister Lydia. Returning to Ohio he taught school for a yearor more in Hopedale, near New Rumley, and in 1857 was able to seehis boyish dream come true, and, as a lad of seventeen, enter theUnited States Military Academy at West Point. 

Cadet Custer graduated from West Point in 1861, and hurried to thefront at once, eager for service, for the war between the States hadbegun. He was made bearer of despatches by General Scott; he foughtat Bull Run as lieutenant in the Second United States Cavalry, towhich he had been assigned; he conducted successfully balloonreconnoissance along the Confederate lines, and so inspired GeneralMcClellan by his energy, courage, and persistence that he wasappointed aide-de-camp to the general, with the rank of captain. 

For his dash and daring in the Rappahannock battles he was advancedby speedy promotions to the rank of brigadier-general of volunteers, his commission dating from June, 1863, just one year after hisappointment as aide-de-camp to McClellan. He won his brevet as majorin the regular army for his brilliant leadership of cavalry atGettysburg; he had a horse shot under him while heading the chargeat Culpepper, and gained his brevet as lieutenant-colonel ofregulars for his gallantry in Sheridan's lights about Richmond, inthe spring of 1864. He won renown and glory in Sheridan's famousraid on Richmond, by saving his brigade-colors at the battle ofTrevillion Station, and, in September, 1864, his dashing valor atWinchester procured him his brevet as colonel of regulars and thevolunteer rank of major-general. He won the battle of Woodstock by awonderful cavalry engagement, routing the enemy, whom he drove fortwenty-six miles, and capturing all their guns save one. In thebloody battle of Cedar Creek he fought at the head of the ThirdDivision of Cavalry from start to finish, helping to turn a routinto a victory and recapturing all the guns and colors the Uniontroops had lost early in the action, besides taking all theConfederate flags and cannon. At Waynesboro, in the spring of 1865, still leading the Third Division, he won the day unaided; hecaptured 1, 600 prisoners, with all the enemy's camp equipage, guns, and colors, and then turning for another onset, Custer drove theConfederate General Early from the field, destroying his command, scattering his army, and ending the campaign, so far as Early's armywas concerned. For this brilliant engagement, and for his bravery atthe battles of Five Forks and Dinwiddie Court-House, on April 1, 1865, Custer was brevetted brigadier-general in the regular army;and, as he had won the first colors taken by the Army of the Potomacin 1862, so, in 1865, he received the first flag of truce from Lee'sarmy when the end at last came, and was present at the historicsurrender at Appomattox. Then he secured his last promotion. He wasbrevetted major-general in the regular army and appointedmajor-general of volunteers. 

It was a brilliant and exceptional record. He had fought in all thebattles of the Army of the Potomac save one. He was Sheridan's mosttrusted and favorite cavalry officer. In less than four years he hadadvanced from captain of volunteers to major-general, and fromlieutenant to major-general in the regular army. He was buttwenty-six when the war closed, and all his promotions had been wonby his bravery, his dash, his daring, and his good leadership. During the last six months of the war the Third Division of Cavalry, led by Custer, captured in open fight over one hundred pieces ofartillery, sixty-five battle flags, and ten thousand prisoners. Itwas a record of which any soldier might be proud, and it made Custerat once the idol of his hard-riding troopers, and one of the popularheroes of the day. At the great review in Washington he rode nearthe head of the parade, leading what was popularly called "the mostgallant cavalry division of the age, " greeted with cheers andflowers along the line of march. 

Custer's active service did not close with the war. He was sent toTexas as commander of a cavalry division, and in November, 1865, wasmade chief of cavalry. In February, 1866, he was mustered out ofservice as major-general of volunteers and became again captain inthe regular army, "on leave. " President Johnson denied him the leaveof absence he asked for to fight under Juarez in Mexico againstMaximilian, the usurper, and in July, 1866, he received hiscommission as lieutenant-colonel of the newly formed SeventhCavalry, United States Army--the regiment that he made into Indianfighters and served with until the end. In November, 1866, he joinedhis regiment at Fort Riley, and was soon fighting Indians on theplains. He utterly defeated the hostile Cheyennes, Arapahoes, andKiowas at the battle of the Washita, in the Indian Territory, inNovember, 1871; he was on post duty in Kentucky until 1873, and thenagain on the plains, where, on August 4, 1873, he whipped thehostile Sioux at the battle of Tongue River, in the Yellowstonecountry, and again, on the 11th of the same month, at the battle ofthe Big Horn. In the summer of 1874 he led an expedition ofexploration and discovery into the Black Hills, in the Dakotacountry, and in May, 1876, led his regiment in what proved to be hislast campaign, a march against the hostile Sioux in the unexploredregion of the Little Big Horn. Here, with less than three hundredmen, he faced the confederated Sioux, numbering thousands ofwarriors, and in a desperate and characteristic engagement closedthe record of a life of brilliant effort and daring by standing atbay, against the tremendous odds of ten to one, until he and hisentire command fell to a man, fighting desperately to the end. 

Custer was gallant, but sometimes indiscreet; he was daring, butoften careless of consequences; and when in positions of command hewas apt to be impatient of cowardice and of greed. So he raised upenemies for himself, and twice these enemies sought and nearlyaccomplished his downfall. His last campaign was fought under theburden of an apparent official censure, galling to a man of Custer'simpetuous nature, all the more so as he knew it to be unmerited andunjust. There is little doubt that this weight of wrong engendered aspirit of recklessness, foreign even to his daring nature, and ledhim to take risks he would not otherwise have accepted, simplybecause he felt the necessity for action and believed that throughvalor would come his speediest vindication. Had he been supported bythose he relied upon he might, even in the face of the overpoweringodds marshalled against him, have come off victorious, instead ofdying, an unnecessary sacrifice, like another Roland, and, if weaccept the legends, at just Roland's age. It is because that tragicending of a valiant life was, viewed from the picturesquestand-point, its logical and dramatic conclusion, that Americantradition and popular applause will, in the years to come, rememberCuster, not so much for the dash at Winchester, the daring atWaynesboro, or the valor at Five Forks, as for his immortal laststand on the banks of the Little Big Horn, when he and his bravetroopers went down in death together. 

General Custer was the born soldier in face and figure. Lithe, broad-shouldered, and sinewy in frame, nearly six feet in height, blue-eyed and golden-haired, he was the beau ideal cavalryleader--alert, active, ready, and responsive, with an eye to alldetails, a love for the picturesque in bearing and equipment, ofgreat endurance, abstemious, healthy, and strong, and as much athome in the saddle and with the sabre as in his own little house inMonroe or by his blazing camp-fire. He married, in February, 1864, Elizabeth Bacon, a daughter of Judge Daniel S. Bacon, of Monroe. Forten years his wife was his constant companion in camp and infrontier service, and she has written many sketches of his activelife in the saddle and his characteristics as soldier and as man. 

General Custer, at the time of his death, was engaged on a series of"War Memoirs, " and his articles on frontier life and army experiencesfound ready acceptance and wide favor. He was, undoubtedly, America'sbest cavalry leader, and won a place as "a perfect general of horse"beside the world's dashing war-riders--from Hannibal's "Thunderbolt, "Mago the Carthaginian, to Maurice of Nassau and the "Golden Eagle, "Murat the Frenchman. 

Fourteen of the thirty-seven years he lived were spent in actualservice in the camp or on the battle-field. He was a brigadier-generalat twenty-three and a major-general at twenty-five. In the height ofhis popularity and his phenomenal success as a cavalry leader, he wasa picturesque and familiar figure to friend and foe alike, as in hisbroad cavalier's hat, his gold-bedizened jacket, and high cavalryboots, with his long hair streaming in the wind, he would ride like atornado, to the accompaniment of "Garry Owen, " his favoritebattle-air, carrying all before him--a subject worthy the pencil of aVandyke, the very type of the dashing trooper of romance. But thatthere was a method in his dash and a practical element in his daring, even the generals he outranked and the civilians who tried to directhim would admit, and to be the choice of McClellan and the favorite ofSheridan gave the assurance of worth to his leadership and of value tohis valor. 

In 1877 Custer's remains were removed to the graveyard at West Pointfrom the battle-field of the Little Big Horn, where he had firstbeen buried amid the fallen heroes of his own brave band. In 1879the Government made the battle-ground where Custer met his death anational cemetery, and raised a monument, upon which appeared thenames and rank of all those who fell in that needless and fatal, butheroic, fight. 

[Signature: Elbridge S. Brooks. ]

[Illustration: Custer's Last Fight. ]

HENRY M. STANLEY[23]

 [Footnote 23: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess]

By NOAH BROOKS

(Born 1841)

[Illustration: Henry M. Stanley. ]

Two white men, one from America and the other from England, met inthe heart of Equatorial Africa, on the shores of Lake Tanganyika, November 10, 1871. This was their first meeting. The Englishman hadbeen lost to the outside world for more than two years, and theAmerican had been looking for him since the early part of 1871. Finally, after many great difficulties and perils, the Americanfound the lost explorer, surrounded by his black guards, friends, and companions. They had dimly heard of each other through the vaguerumors of the natives for months past, and now meeting face to face, the American lifting his cap, said, "Dr. Livingstone, I presume. "The Englishman nodded an affirmative reply, and the other said, "Iam Henry M. Stanley. "

It was in this simple yet dramatic way that two of the most famousAfrican travellers of modern times met in the heart of the DarkContinent. Quite as dramatic, perhaps, was the departure of Stanleyin pursuit of Livingstone. Stanley was not widely known previous tohis expedition to Africa in search of Livingstone. He had served asa war correspondent of one of the great New York newspapers forseveral years, and was known to his craft as a faithful, accurate, and courageous newspaper correspondent. He had dared many dangers, and had encountered and overcome obstacles that would have dismayeda less intrepid soul. In 1868 he served the _New York Herald_ ascorrespondent during the war in Abyssinia which raged between theBritish and King Theodore. It was here he got his first taste ofAfrican adventure. It was not a long war. The British shut up KingTheodore in the fortress of Magdala, where he perished miserably byhis own hand in the flames of his burning citadel. Thence Stanleywent to Spain, where a great civil war had broken out, and hewitnessed the sacking of cities, the prosecution of sieges, andbattles large and small innumerable. 

This war over, in the autumn of 1869, the civilized world waswondering whether Dr. Livingstone, the African missionary andexplorer, were dead or alive. Dr. Livingstone, who was of Scottishbirth and was in the service of the London Missionary Society, hadbeen long laboring in South Africa, a country of which the outerworld then knew but very little. Along the coast here and there werepoints occupied temporarily by white traders and travellers, but theinterior of the Dark Continent was known only through the tales ofthe slave-catchers, who brought to the coast the black people theyhad gathered like so many cattle in the interior. Dr. Livingstonewas doing what he could to spread the light of the Christianreligion through those benighted regions. His first departure intothe interior of Africa was from Cape Town, in 1840, and for morethan thirty-three years he spent his life in the arduous work towhich he had consecrated himself. In 1858 he had returned to Englandand published a book, giving an account of his missionary labors andhis discoveries, and, liberally provided with means, he returned toAfrica to carry on his work. He was accompanied by his wife, whodied in the interior of Africa in 1862. In 1863 he returned toEngland and published a second book, giving some further account ofhis explorations. 

Again, in 1865, he returned to Africa, and for more than a year noword came from him, but there ran a rumor that he had been killed bythe savages. Early in 1869, however, letters from Dr. Livingstone, written a year before, were received on the coast, showing that hewas alive and well. He had travelled many thousands of miles, beingthe first white man that had ever penetrated those dark andmysterious regions in the heart of Africa. But now, in the autumn of1869, more than twenty months had passed since any word of his hadcome out of the darkness, and the world was ready to believe thatthe faithful missionary and explorer had dared his fate too often, and had died in the jungles of Africa. 

It was at this time that Stanley, resting after a long and arduouscampaign in Spain, received from James Gordon Bennett, who was thenin Paris, a telegram summoning him to an interview in that city. Arriving at the French capital early in the morning, Stanley wentstraight to Mr. Bennett's lodgings, before that gentleman had risenfrom his bed. In answer to his knock a voice commanded him to enter. The two men had not met in many years. Stanley was bronzed and agedby sun and storm, and Bennett, surprised, abruptly asked, "Who areyou?"

"I am Stanley, and I have come to answer your message, " was thereply. 

Bennett motioned Stanley to a seat, and after a moment's pause, asked:

"Will you go to Africa and find Livingstone?"

Stanley was startled. For a moment he reflected; then he replied, "Iwill;" and before he left the room his agreement with Bennett waspractically concluded, and some of the larger details of theexpedition were mapped out, and Stanley left the hotel clothed witha commission to find Livingstone, and promised all needed funds forexpenses and for the relief of the great African explorer, should hebe in need, as it was expected he would be found, if at all. 

Stanley first went to the east coast of Africa, where he arrived inthe early part of 1871. Months were consumed at Zanzibar in makingready the expedition with which he was to penetrate into theinterior. Several caravans or trains were despatched, one after theother, loaded with ammunition, arms, provisions, and the necessariesof life, and with a large supply of goods with which to purchase aright of way through hostile or unfriendly kingdoms and states. 

Bringing up the rear of these various trains, Stanley and his armedforce left the coast of Africa, March 21, 1871. He had with him 192persons, negroes and Arabs, and as he launched out into theuntravelled places of Africa, two words rang in his ears, "FindLivingstone. " Enduring many hardships, sometimes fighting andsometimes coaxing the natives, Stanley pressed on his way, hisgeneral course being in a northwesterly direction, signs, rumors, and perhaps instincts, leading him to believe that Livingstone, iffound alive, would be discovered somewhere in the region of LakeTanganyika. It would be impossible to describe the vagueness andmysteriousness of the rumors which float to and fro in anuntravelled and savage country, but as the intrepid adventurerpressed on he heard more and more credible reports of the lost whiteman. His first convincing intimation of his being near Livingstonewas when a black met him, and, speaking to him in tolerably goodEnglish, told him that a white man was said to be in a village nearby. This man was one of Dr. Livingstone's servants, and soon thetwo, one from America and the other from England, met at Ujiji, onthe shores of the lake. 

Stanley remained with Livingstone until March 14th of the followingyear, busied with explorations of the fascinating region into whichhe had penetrated. He supplied Livingstone with all of the goodsthat he could spare, and on his return to Zanzibar he sent him acaravan with men, supplies, and such articles as he needed, fulfilling the orders of Mr. Bennett. Stanley never again sawLivingstone in life. 

Livingstone died of malarial fever contracted in the Africanmarshes, and his faithful blacks embalmed his body and carried it tothe coast, hundreds of miles, bringing with them every articlebelonging to the faithful missionary, even to the smallest scraps ofpaper on which were penned the last notes of his journey which heever wrote. Livingstone was buried with grand ceremony inWestminster Abbey, and Stanley was one of those who bore him to hisgrave. 

Stanley's early life was a romance. He was born in Wales, near thelittle town of Denbigh, and his parents were so poor that when hewas about three years of age he was sent to the poor-house of St. Asaph to be brought up and educated at the expense of the parish. Atthe age of thirteen he was his own master, and though young, he wasambitious, well informed, and well poised. He taught school whileyet a lad in the village of Mold, Flintshire, North Wales. Tiringof this uncongenial occupation, he made his way to Liverpool when hewas about fourteen years of age, and shipped as cabin-boy on board asailing vessel bound to New Orleans. Like other British-born youths, America was to him the promised land, and thither he turned hissteps in pursuit of fortune and fame. In New Orleans he fell in witha kindly merchant, a Mr. Stanley, who adopted him and gave him hisname, for the youngster's real name was John Rowlands. His protectordying without leaving a will, the boy was once more turned adrift, but he managed to live and sustain himself, and when twenty-oneyears of age, in 1861, the great Civil War having broken out, Stanley went into the Confederate service then recruiting at NewOrleans. He was subsequently taken prisoner by the Federal forces, and being allowed his liberty, he volunteered in the United StatesNavy. He did his work well, and was in due time promoted to beacting ensign on the iron-clad Ticonderoga. He made friends whereverhe went, for he was brave, modest, and of a frank disposition. Thewar over he was discharged from the naval service, went to AsiaMinor, where he saw many strange countries, wrote letters to theAmerican newspapers, and in 1866 revisited his native village inWales. Returning to the United States, he entered the service of the_New York Herald_, and went to Abyssinia as war correspondent, asbefore stated. 

Stanley returned to Europe after his discovery of Livingstone, inJuly, 1872, and published his narrative, but many people in Europeand in America refused to believe his story. Some persons whothought themselves expert in knowledge of African travel proved totheir entire satisfaction that he never had been far from the coast, never had seen Livingstone, and that his wonderful tale was a tissueof romance. The Queen of England showed her belief and confidence inhim by sending him a box of gold set with jewels, and the RoyalGeographical Society of Great Britain, a very high and mighty body, showed him great honor. 

The attention of geographers and scientific men was now turned tothe great Lake Tanganyika, about which very little was known. Theoutlet of the lake was as yet undiscovered. The secret sources ofthe Nile were unknown, and the great river that reaches the Congocoast from the interior was then, so far as men knew, lost in thefoam of the cataracts above. Even the already famous lake known asthe Victoria Nyanza was indistinctly sketched on the maps, andpeople familiar with African exploration were uncertain whether thatgreat body of water was a lake or a chain of lakes. 

Stanley was asked by the editor of the _London Daily Telegraph_ ifhe could settle these great questions if he were commissioned to goto Africa. He replied, "While I live there will be something done. If I survive the time required to perform all the work, all shall bedone. " James Gordon Bennett was asked by cable if he would join inthe new expedition. His sententious reply flashed under the oceanwas: "Yes. Bennett. " And Stanley's second great work was alreadydetermined upon. 

Only six weeks were allowed for preparation, and when it was noisedabroad that Stanley was taking another expedition into the heart ofAfrica, he was overwhelmed with offers of volunteer assistants, andwith a great variety of strange contrivances to help him on hisjourney. Finally, all preparations being concluded, he left EnglandAugust 15, 1874, accompanied by only three white men, Frank andEdward Pocock and Frederick Barker. These men, with the goods andother needed articles for the expedition, were sent on ahead, andtwenty months after his last previous departure from Zanzibar, Stanley was once more at that point of departure, ready to begin hispreparations for another plunge into the heart of the DarkContinent. 

Some of the black men who had been with him on his previous journey, when he searched for Livingstone, were found at Zanzibar, and theywere all eager to go with him again, and when he was ready to departhe had in his company 224 persons, some of the black men takingtheir wives with them. The company after leaving Zanzibar landed atBergamoyo, on the mainland, November 13, 1874, and five days laterhis column boldly advanced into the heart of the Dark Continent. Thegeneral direction of the expedition was at first nearly westerly, then turning to the north it was aimed for Victoria Nyanza. Themarch was obstructed by marshy regions, overflowing with recentrains. Moist exhalations and poisonous vapors prevailed, and thefirst month was a gloomy one. Stanley's own weight in thirty-eightdays fell from 180 pounds to 130 pounds, and the three youngEnglishmen with him were greatly reduced in strength and flesh. Oneof these, Edward Pocock, was prostrated, and though he was carriedback to the high, dry table land nearer the coast, he died and wasburied in that lonely region. 

By January 21, 1875, 20 of the black men of the expedition had died, many were sick and disabled, and 89, discouraged by theirmisfortunes, deserted. They were now in a hostile region, and wereattacked by natives day after day in succession, but after much hardfighting they got away and labored onward toward the VictoriaNyanza, which they reached on January 27th, near its southern shore. This event was celebrated with great joy and cheerfulness; they feltthat they were out of the wilderness. Six weeks were now consumed ina voyage around Victoria Nyanza. 

During the absence of the exploring party, Frederick Barker, who hadbeen left in the camp on the lake, died of fever, leaving Pocock andStanley the only white men in the party. It was here that Stanleymet King Mtesa, the King of Uganda, a benevolent and mild-manneredPagan, who had previously been converted to Mohammedanism, and nowaccepted the Christian religion with equal cheerfulness andgood-nature. 

On his way westward Stanley passed through the regions of KingRumanika, an eccentric character, at whose court the white man heardmany strange stories of unknown regions in the heart of thecontinent. From this point Stanley went southwardly to explore thatpart of Lake Tanganyika which lies south, and this he found to bethree hundred and twenty miles long, averaging a width oftwenty-eight miles. It has no known outlet, and a sounding line oftwo hundred and eighty feet found no bottom. 

His next march from Tanganyika to the River Lualaba was toilsome andperilous and beset with dangers almost incredible. At NyangweStanley touched the most distant point in Central Africa everreached before by white man. Here he met with Tippoo Tib, the famousArab trader. This man, who has always seemed to be master of thedestinies and fortunes of the wild, roving tribes in the interior, agreed to accompany Stanley on his exploration of the Lualaba orGreat River. If it had not been for this agreement with Tippoo Tib, it is most likely that Stanley's expedition would have ended thenand there, and we never should have known, as we now know, that theCongo and the Lualaba are one river, the second largest in theworld. Its line extends from its month on the west coast of Africamore than half-way across the continent, and it has its rise in thegreat lakes of the interior. To this vast stream Stanley has giventhe name of Livingstone. 

The object of Stanley's journey now was to throw light on thewestern half of the continent, which was then represented on themaps by a blank, through which meandered a few vague and uncertainlines representing rivers, guessed at but not known. Stanley got onbetter with the natives than did any of those who had gone beforehim, for he was wise, patient, and gentle, and yet so firm anddecided that he was held in great awe and respect by the black menwherever he was known. Leaving the river and deflecting to thewestward, he struggled on through a forest matted and interlacedwith vines, swarming with creeping things, damp and reeking withvapors, and dripping with moisture. It was a most intolerable andhorrid stage of the journey. When again he struck the great river heresolved to go by land no further. Here he was abandoned by TippooTib, who refused to go on. Stanley resolutely set himself to workbuilding and buying canoes, and led by his own English-built boat, the Lady Alice, his expedition started finally down the river, whichhere flows due north. The fleet was twenty-three in number, and wasloaded with stores, goods, and supplies. 

[Illustration: Stanley shooting the Rapids of the Congo. ]

It was a wonderful voyage. The explorers were harassed at times bysavage tribes, some of them believed to be cannibals, who attackedthe strangers from shore, or in pure wantonness, as they drifteddown the stream. Sickness and hunger were often their lot, and theywere overtaken by tropical storms. In some places, too, theyencountered rapids and cataracts, around which their fleet had to bedragged through paths cut in the primeval forest while the savageshovered around them. The forests were populous with wild beasts;chimpanzees and gorillas, monkeys, and all manner of four-footedthings infested the clambering vines that festooned the trees. Theywere once attacked by an hippopotamus, and elephants andrhinoceroses were never far away. At a point below where the greatriver turns from its great northerly course and flows westward, justabove the equator, was discovered a series of cataracts, seven inall, the first of which was named Livingstone Falls and the seventhStanley Falls. The natives from this point downward to the mouth ofthe Congo had lost something of their natural ferocity, as they hadbeen tamed by trade from the west coast, and great was the rejoicingof Stanley's Zanzibar men when they encountered native warriors withfirearms in their hands, for this showed that they had reached apeople supplied by traders from the Congo coast. 

The passing of the last group of cataracts was attended by numerousdangers. In spite of all their efforts, canoes were sometimescarried over the falls and wrecked, and on June 3d, Frank Pocock, the last of Stanley's white companions, was drowned in the Congo bythe upsetting of a boat. Pocock was a brave, faithful, and devotedfollower of Stanley, who has paid a touching tribute to themanliness, affection, and courage of the young Englishman who liesburied in the savage wilderness of the Congo. 

Very soon, as they drew nearer to the west coast, in the latter partof the summer of 1877, sickness, distress, and famine pressed hardupon the way-worn travellers. They were destitute of nearlyeverything that could sustain nature. The natives refused to sellsupplies, and starvation stared them in the face. Knowing that atrading-post was established at Embomma, a two days' journey downthe river, Stanley wrote on an old piece of cotton cloth a letterasking for help, which was sent to the trading-post by his swiftestrunners. This letter was written in Spanish, French, and also inEnglish, Stanley in his anxiety and despair leaving no means untriedto reach the unknown traders whom he heard were at Embomma. The meninto whose hands this three-fold message fell were English andPortuguese. Their response was prompt and generous. The messengerswere sent back, followed by a small caravan laden with amplesupplies of food and the necessaries of life, greatly to the reliefof the starving people who, on the arrival of this timely aid, hadeaten nothing for thirty hours. On August 9, 1877, the nine hundredand ninety-ninth day from the date of their departure from Zanzibar, Stanley's company, now numbering one hundred and fourteen blacks andone white man, met the generous traders and merchants of Embomma, who received the way-worn voyagers that had crossed the DarkContinent. From the mouth of the Congo the expedition was carried bysteamer to Kabinda, a seaport a short distance up the coast, whencethey were taken to the port of San Paolo de Loanda, where theyembarked on board a British man-of-war and were taken to Cape Town;thence, touching at Port Natal, they steamed to Zanzibar, where theyarrived on November 20, 1877. Long since given up for dead, theZanzibar men were greeted by their kindred with signs ofthanksgiving, tears and cries of joy. They had crossed the heart ofthe continent, doubled the great Cape, and were again at home. 

Stanley returned to England from Zanzibar, arriving in December, 1877. The King of the Belgians had been planning an expedition toopen up the Congo country to trade, and now requested Stanley totake command of his expedition. Stanley undertook the management ofthe new organization and returned to Africa in 1879, where heremained nearly six years, hard at work on the Congo, making roads, establishing stations, and opening the way for commerce. The CongoFree State, founded by King Leopold, lies chiefly south of the greatbend of the river, and contains an area of 1, 508, 000 square miles, with a population of more than 42, 000, 000. The articles collectedfrom the African trade at points along the great river, are ivory, palm-oil, gum, copal, rubber, bees-wax, cabinet woods, hippopotamusteeth and hides, monkey skins, and divers other things. Stanley nowmade brief visits to Europe and the United States. While he was inthis country, in the winter of 1886 and 1887, he was summoned backto Europe to take once more command of an African expedition torescue Emin Pasha, governor of the province of Equatorial Africa. Emin is the Egyptian name of Dr. Schnitzler. He has been generallyknown throughout Africa as Emin Pasha, and was governor of theprovince which is one of the outlying posts of the Egyptiangovernment, when the revolt in the Soudan took place. When GeneralGordon was besieged in Khartoum, the province of Emin Pasha was cutoff from the rest of Egypt, and Emin was shut up in the region northof the Albert Nyanza, whose capital is Lado, on one of the minorbranches of the White Nile. 

To relieve him in his isolation and necessity, a subscription wasstarted in England, and once more, equipped with men, arms, ammunition, and other supplies, Stanley sailed for Africa inJanuary, 1887, making his head-quarters as before at Zanzibar. Thesupplies for the expedition were shipped directly to the Congo andcarried up stream by steamers. At Zanzibar, Stanley's old friendTippoo Tib was met, and he signed an agreement making him Governorof Stanley Falls to defend that post against all comers, a salarybeing guaranteed him. Then, accompanied by Tippoo Tib, Stanley wentto the mouth of the Congo by the way of the Cape of Good Hope, reaching the river March 18, 1887; then, ascending the stream onwhich he had met so many hardships and endured so much suffering, hecarried his force of nearly one thousand men, and his supplies, arms, and ammunition, to the relief of Emin Pasha, an enormousquantity altogether. The white companions of Stanley on thisexpedition were Major Barttelot, who had served with distinctionunder General Wolseley in Egypt, Major Sir Andrew Clarke, LieutenantStairs, Captain Nelson, Dr. Park, Rose Troup, Mountjoy Jephson, William Bonny, and Mr. Jameson. Of these, two returned to Englandbefore the termination of the journey, and three perished during thewanderings of the expedition through forty-five hundred miles oftrackless wilderness, pestilential marshes, and regions populouswith hostile savages. From June, 1887, to December, 1889, the partywas lost to the world and no definite news from it reachedcivilization. 

The expedition, which had been divided into two parts, generallypursued its way in a northeastward course. Major Barttelot was lefton the Aruwimi, at Yambuya, with 257 men and the main part of thestores, to await the coming of the promised reinforcements fromTippoo Tib. A long delay ensued, and troubles broke out inconsequence (it is said) of the rash and imperious demeanor of MajorBarttelot, and finally Barttelot was murdered and the entirerear-guard was broken down by desertion and pillage. Jamesoncollected the remains of the party, but he soon after died, and Mr. Bonny succeeded to the command and collected and kept the mentogether. Meanwhile, Stanley's march ahead was made with manydifficulties, and he encountered rapid streams and other obstaclesunforeseen and unexpected. Toward the end of December, 1887, Stanley's expedition having reached the Albert Edward Nyanza, andstill being unable to open communications with Emin Pasha, it wasdecided to return to the forest and build a fort, and, after restingthe forces, make a new start toward the lake. This fortification, known as Fort Bodo, was inhabited until April, 1888, when Stanleypressed on, and finally found Emin Pasha and his companion, Dr. Casati. They had passed through the country of the dwarfs, nearlyperishing with hunger, and when they reached the lake, Emin'ssoldiers had mutinied and he was a prisoner. Emissaries from theMahdist Dervishes had stirred up the camp of Emin and causedinextricable confusion. Emin was reluctant to leave the province, and when Stanley and his white companions determined to attempt toreach Zanzibar by an unexplored route, Emin refused to depart. Fourmonths were spent in an effort to overcome the reluctance of EminPasha and Captain Casati, who were unwilling to leave their people. 

Emin's plea was that ten thousand of his people would have to beextricated from the province and carried to the coast. After manyand exasperating discussions, Stanley refused to wait longer, andEmin, who had become nearly blind, brought away with him about fivehundred persons. The expedition then, over a southeasterly route, made its way toward the coast. 

The course of march from Albert Edward Nyanza was nearly in a directline to the Uzinja country, on the southwest shore of the VictoriaNyanza. The party passed south of Victoria Lake and reached the eastcoast December 4, 1889. The caravan, since it left Albert EdwardNyanza, had dwindled from fifteen hundred to one-half that number. This latest journey of Stanley lasted one thousand and twelve days, of which hardly twenty were without tragical and perilous incidents. The story of the annihilation that overcame his rear-guard has beenoften told. It will probably never be settled exactly where shall beplaced the blame for that frightful disaster. 

On his return from the Emin relief expedition, Stanley revisited theUnited States, accompanied by his bride whom he had lately married. He gave lectures in several of the larger cities of the country onhis surprising adventures in Africa. He was now prematurely aged byhis terrible experiences, and though his eye was still bright andhis frame alert, care and privation had whitened his hair, exposurehad darkened his skin and left its wrinkled impress on his forehead. Everywhere he was received with the greatest enthusiasm and followedby eager thousands, who gazed upon his face and hung with rapture onhis words. In 1892 he returned to England, and availing himself ofhis British nationality, stood for Parliament in the District ofLambeth, City of London, as a Conservative candidate. Much to thesurprise and grief of his friends he was defeated and since then hehas remained in private life. 

[Signature: Noah Brooks. ]

THOMAS ALVA EDISON[24]

 [Footnote 24: Copyright, 1894, by Selmar Hess. ]

By CLARENCE COOK

(Born 1847)

[Illustration: Thomas Alva Edison. ]

As someone has called Leonardo da Vinci "the great Italian Yankee, "because of his multifarious and ingenious suggestions in the worldof material things, so our own Edison may be called "the YankeeLeonardo, " for, with a curiosity ranging over the whole world ofnature, equal to that of the Italian, and with a fecundity ofinvention no less bewildering, he unites, like Leonardo, animaginative and poetical vein that lifts his devices into the domainof Art. 

Yet Edison is in no respect a graceful or romantic figure such asLeonardo was. He reminds us rather, by the weird and cosmic natureof his speculations and inventions, of some one of the beingscreated by the Norse mythologists: a nineteenth century gnome, rough, shaggy, uncouth, wholly absorbed in his search among thesecrets of nature, and, while working always for the good ofmankind, dwelling in a world apart, and with neither time norinclination to mix in human affairs. 

Thomas Alva Edison was born at Milan, Erie County, O. , February 11, 1847. He started in life hampered by poverty, by want of teachingand training, without friends outside his own home circle toencourage him in pushing his fortunes, and with small opportunity, in the little village where his lot had been cast, for bettering hiscondition. On his father's side he came of sturdy Dutch stock: theold man, who was still living in 1879 at the age of seventy-four, reckoned among his immediate ancestors one who lived to be onehundred and two years old, and another who reached one hundred andthree. He would appear to have been, like pioneers in general, ready, if not obliged, to turn his hand to any employment that mightyield a living, that must be scanty at the best; and we read of himas in turn a tailor, a nurseryman, a dealer, first in grain and thenin lumber, and an agent for the sale of farm-lands. He seems to havebeen unable to do much for his boy beyond teaching him to read andwrite, stimulating his taste for reading by paying him small sums ofmoney for every book he read through; he had no need to insist thatthe reading should be done thoroughly, for it was the boy's way todo thoroughly everything he undertook. His mother, also, helpedThomas in learning: she was of Scotch extraction; but, though herparents were from the old country, she herself was born inMassachusetts, where for a time she had been a school-teacher. This, then, with the exception of two months at the village school, wasthe limit of young Edison's education--to use the conventionalterm. The world was now to take him in hand, and show what it coulddo with material so unpromising. 

Before he was twelve years old, the boy had found a place as newsboyon the Grand Trunk Line running to Detroit. In the intervals betweenhis raids upon the helpless passengers with his newspapers, periodicals, novels, and candies, he kept up the habit of reading, and by practice acquired a remarkably clear and finishedhandwriting. His next step was to secure the sole right of sellingnewspapers on the train, and he soon had four boys under him toassist him in the work. Having then bought a lot of old type fromsome printing-office, he rigged up a rude frame in one of thebaggage-cars that served as a lumber-room, and then proceeded to setup and print a newspaper which he called the _Grand Trunk Herald_, and sold with the other newspapers. As he had no press, he wasobliged to take off the impressions by rubbing the paper on theinked type with his hands. In some way, a copy of this newspaperfound its way to the _London Times_, and the editor spoke of it asthe only newspaper in the world printed on a moving train. Duringthe fighting at Pittsburgh Landing in 1862, Edison printed offabstracts of the telegraphic news, and posted them up at the smallcountry stations, thus rendering a great service to the peopleanxiously waiting for news from the field. The terminus of his trainwas Detroit, and here, for the first time, he had access to alibrary. In his enthusiasm at finding himself in virtual possessionof such a treasure, he determined, then and there, to read the wholelibrary through, as it stood, using his time between trains. Beginning at one shelf he read fifteen feet in a line, going througheach book solidly from cover to cover. In this first bout, amongother books, he read Newton's "Principia, " Ure's "ScientificDictionary, " and Burton's "Anatomy of Melancholy. "

All this time, by hints and suggestions, Nature had been pushing theyouth toward the field he was finally to occupy almost by right ofeminent domain. As yet, telegraphy was in its infancy, and thepowers of electricity only beginning to be known. Edison had fromthe first been interested in the workings of the telegraph linealong the railroad, and had made some experiments with a rude lineof his own, connecting his father's home at Port Huron--a village towhich the family had some time before removed from Milan--with thehouse of a neighbor. To do this, he had to make a battery out ofodds and ends, old bottles, stove-pipe wire, and nails made out ofzinc contributed by his youthful friends, who in their zeal cutpieces out of the zinc mats under their mothers' stoves. He had noone to teach him telegraphy, but an accident--if accidents therebe--was unexpectedly to put him in the way of learning its secrets. The child of the station-master was in danger from a moving train;young Edison snatched it up and saved its life at the risk of hisown, and the grateful father rewarded him by teaching him what heknew of telegraphy. 

Armed with this rudimentary knowledge, and with what, in addition, hehad learned by practice, Edison passed the next few years of his lifein moving about over the country, seeking employment less, it wouldappear, for the sake of employment than for the opportunity ofincreasing his practical knowledge of the art that was to swallow up, in his mind, all the other arts. But he seems to have succeeded almostin spite of himself. He was so eager in his chase after knowledge thathe was continually tripping himself up. While still at his trade ofnewsboy on the Grand Trunk Railroad, he had come across, at Detroitprobably, a copy of Fresenius' "Qualitative Analysis" and had becomeso much interested in chemistry, that alongside his printing-press hehad fitted up a small laboratory with a chance-medley apparatus forexperiments, and one day a bottle of phosphorus was upset, and the cartaking fire was only saved by the energy of the conductor, whopromptly pitched the whole apparatus, with the printing-press to boot, out at the door, and then gave the young Fresenius-Franklin athrashing. Later we hear of him, in the course of his wanderings, setto watch a telegraph-machine in the absence of the operator, and toprove that he was on guard he was to send the word six over the lineevery half-hour. Not to be interrupted in the book he was reading, hecontrived a device that did the work automatically. In another officehe kept back messages while he was contriving a way to send them morequickly! Disappearing from this office, he appears again in another, this time in Memphis, Tenn. But his interest in solving the problem ofduplicate transmission proved so absorbing that he continuallyneglected his duties, and on the occasion of a change of officers hewas dismissed as a useless member of the staff. At Louisville heupsets a carboy of sulphuric acid which ruins the handsome furnitureof a broker's office on the floor below, and again finds himselfadrift in an unappreciative world. Yet he had proved himself, in spiteof all drawbacks, an adept of uncommon skill in telegraphy; and sowidespread in scientific circles was his reputation, that he was sentfor to Boston to take charge of the main New York wire. The impressionmade by the records of his life at this time is, that he looked uponall these employments merely as so many opportunities for earning hisbread while pursuing his beloved experiments, and that thebread-earning was the least important part of the affair. No doubt, healways meant to do his duty, but the ecstasy of invention and thethirst for discovery carried him out of himself and made him oftenoblivious of sublunary things. While in Boston he still kept up hisexperiments and perfected his duplex telegraph, but it was not broughtinto successful operation until 1872. 

In 1871 he came to New York, and having attracted the attention ofthe Stock Exchange by some ingenious suggestions put forth whilebusied in repairing the machine that recorded quotations, he wasmade Superintendent of the Gold and Stock Company, and brought outhis invention of the printing-telegraph, by which the fluctuationsof the stock-market in any part of the country are instantlyrecorded on narrow strips of paper. 

[Illustration: Thomas A. Edison--The Wizard of Menlo Park. ]

The immediate success of this invention, and the great demand forthe machines, led him to establish a workshop for their manufacturein Newark, N. J. But soon the need of still more space, and thedesire for freedom from interruption while at his work, obliged himto give up Newark, and he found new quarters at Menlo Park, N. J. --abare plot of barren acres destitute of natural attraction of anykind, unless it be--what to Edison indeed is a great charm--anuninterrupted view of the sky; a place virtually unknown before heplanted there the rude buildings that house his wonderfulinventions; yet now a place known to scientific men all over theworld; the Mecca of many a mind seeking to wrest from Nature herdearest secrets. 

No doubt, many of the inventions that have made Edison famous mustbe ascribed in their conception and ripening' to various periods ofhis life, but to the popular mind they are all associated with thewizard's present home, from whence for several years the bulletinsof inventions--playful, useful, necessary, revolutionary--often assimple in their mechanism as they are astonishing in their results, have been given to a delighted world. Some of Edison's inventionshave a character at present of little more than picturesqueplayfulness, such as the Phonograph, perhaps the most remarkable ofthese minor inventions; the Aerophone, by which sounds are amplifiedwithout loss of distinctness; the Megaphone, an instrument which, inserted in the ear, so magnifies sounds that faint whispers may beheard a thousand feet; the Phonometer, for measuring the force ofthe soundwaves caused by the human voice; the Microtasimeter, formeasuring small variations in temperature. This has been tested forso small a variation as 1/24000 of a degree Fahrenheit, and in 1878was used to detect the presence of heat in the sun's corona. Themost familiar of these lesser inventions is the Phonograph by whichsounds are made self-recording and capable of being repeated. Whilethis curious invention--almost childish in its simplicity--is as yetlittle more than a plaything, and has proved of small utility, itmakes, nevertheless, a strong appeal to the imagination when wereflect that by its aid the voice of any human being may betransmitted to ages far in the future, and its living tones be heardlong after he who uttered them has returned to the dust. 

But, while these inventions have the charm that invests "thefairy-tales of science, " the world-wide fame of Edison rests upongreater gifts to the world; the various improvements he has made inthe telegraph, and the perfection to which he has brought theelectric light. The invention of the telephone, by which persons areenabled to converse with one another at very long distances, and bywhich concerts, operas, and orations or sermons in one city can beheard by an audience assembled in another, is one of the mostremarkable of Edison's achievements, and one the usefulness of whichin various directions it is easy to foresee. The idea of thetransmission of messages in opposite directions by the same wire wasone that had early occurred to Edison, but he was long in reducingit to practice. The secret once discovered, however, he rapidlyprogressed until he had brought out the sextuple telegraph, where webelieve the ability of the instrument rests at present. 

The inventor next turned his mind to the study of the electric lamp, in which he saw great possibilities. He believed that he couldproduce a light that should be cheaper than gas, and also purer, more steady, and more to be depended on. He rejected the principleof the Voltaic arc involved in the Brush patent then in use, bywhich the electric current was passed through a strip of platinum orother metal that requires a high temperature to melt, because inpractice it was found that in fact, owing to the difficulty ofregulating the flow of the electric current, the medium did oftenmelt. He therefore sought for a medium that should be practicallyindestructible, and believed that it would be found in pure carbonenclosed in a vacuum. After many trials with one and anothersubstance, he at length found that by employing slender strips ofcard-board reduced by intense heat to carbon, connecting them withthe wires leading from the machine, and enclosing them in glassbulbs from which the air had been extracted, the desired resultcould be produced. The next step to accomplish was the division ofthe light, so that any number of lamps could be supplied by the samepair of wires--a condition absolutely necessary if the inventionwere to be of practical utility as applied to the lighting offactories, public buildings, or private households, where-ever, inshort, many lights are needed. This was finally accomplished, and inDecember, 1879, an exhibition was given at Menlo Park of a completesystem of lighting. This first demonstration of the possibility oflight-division created a great interest in scientific circles allover the world, especially as scientific experts had testifiedbefore the British House of Commons that the feat was impossible. The Edison incandescent burner is now in use in every city, town, and hamlet in this country, and it would seem as if it must ofnecessity before long drive the costly, unhealthy, and dangerouscoal-gas out of use for illuminating purposes, although we believe awide field of usefulness lies before the coal-gas as a substitutefor coal in our kitchens. 

Thomas Edison has received few public honors from his countrymen;but the nature of his work has been such as to make his name ahousehold word throughout his native country; and not only by theadmiration excited by his genius--for it deserves no less aname--but by the practical, every-day benefits he has conferred, hehas earned a place in the good-will and esteem of his fellows suchas seldom falls to the lot of man. 

[Signature: Clarence Cook. ]