HERO TALES FROM AMERICAN HISTORY

By Henry Cabot Lodge And Theodore Roosevelt

 Hence it is that the fathers of these men and ours also, and they themselves likewise, being nurtured in all freedom and well born, have shown before all men many and glorious deeds in public and private, deeming it their duty to fight for the cause of liberty and the Greeks, even against Greeks, and against Barbarians for all the Greeks. "--PLATO: "Menexenus. "

TO E. Y. R. 

To you we owe the suggestion of writing this book. Its purpose, as youknow better than any one else, is to tell in simple fashion the story ofsome Americans who showed that they knew how to live and how to die; whoproved their truth by their endeavor; and who joined to the stern andmanly qualities which are essential to the well-being of a masterfulrace the virtues of gentleness, of patriotism, and of lofty adherence toan ideal. 

It is a good thing for all Americans, and it is an especially good thingfor young Americans, to remember the men who have given their lives inwar and peace to the service of their fellow-countrymen, and to keep inmind the feats of daring and personal prowess done in time past bysome of the many champions of the nation in the various crises of herhistory. Thrift, industry, obedience to law, and intellectual cultivationare essential qualities in the makeup of any successful people; but nopeople can be really great unless they possess also the heroic virtueswhich are as needful in time of peace as in time of war, and asimportant in civil as in military life. As a civilized people we desirepeace, but the only peace worth having is obtained by instant readinessto fight when wronged--not by unwillingness or inability to fight atall. Intelligent foresight in preparation and known capacity to standwell in battle are the surest safeguards against war. America will ceaseto be a great nation whenever her young men cease to possess energy, daring, and endurance, as well as the wish and the power to fight thenation's foes. No citizen of a free state should wrong any man; but itis not enough merely to refrain from infringing on the rights of others;he must also be able and willing to stand up for his own rights andthose of his country against all comers, and he must be ready at anytime to do his full share in resisting either malice domestic or foreignlevy. 

HENRY CABOT LODGE. THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 

WASHINGTON, April 19, 1895. 

CONTENTS

 GEORGE WASHINGTON--H. C. Lodge. 

 DANIEL BOONE AND THE FOUNDING OF KENTUCKY--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 GEORGE ROGERS CLARK AND THE CONQUEST OF THE NORTHWEST--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 THE BATTLE OF TRENTON--H. C. Lodge. 

 BENNINGTON--H. C. Lodge. 

 KING'S MOUNTAIN--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 THE STORMING OF STONY POINT--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 GOUVERNEUR MORRIS--H. C. Lodge. 

 THE BURNING OF THE "PHILADELPHIA"--H. C. Lodge. 

 THE CRUISE OF THE "WASP"--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 THE "GENERAL ARMSTRONG" PRIVATEER--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS AND THE RIGHT OF PETITION--H. C. Lodge. 

 FRANCIS PARKMAN--H. C. Lodge. 

 "REMEMBER THE ALAMO"--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 HAMPTON ROADS--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 THE FLAG-BEARER--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 THE DEATH OF STONEWALL JACK--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 THE CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 GENERAL GRANT AND THE VICKSBURG CAMPAIGN--H. C. Lodge. 

 ROBERT GOULD SHAW--H. C. Lodge. 

 CHARLES RUSSELL LOWELL--H. C. Lodge. 

 SHERIDAN AT CEDAR CREEK--H. C. Lodge. 

 LIEUTENANT CUSHING AND THE RAM "ALBEMARLE"--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 FARRAGUT AT MOBILE BAY--Theodore Roosevelt. 

 ABRAHAM LINCOLN--H. C. Lodge. 

 "Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly king. Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all I shall not look upon his like again. "--Hamlet

HERO TALES FROM AMERICAN HISTORY

WASHINGTON

The brilliant historian of the English people [*] has written ofWashington, that "no nobler figure ever stood in the fore-front of anation's life. " In any book which undertakes to tell, no matter howslightly, the story of some of the heroic deeds of American history, that noble figure must always stand in the fore-front. But to sketch thelife of Washington even in the barest outline is to write the historyof the events which made the United States independent and gave birthto the American nation. Even to give alist of what he did, to name hisbattles and recount his acts as president, would be beyond the limit andthe scope of this book. Yet it is always possible to recall the man andto consider what he was and what he meant for us and for mankind He isworthy the study and the remembrance of all men, and to Americans he isat once a great glory of their past and an inspiration and an assuranceof their future. 

 * John Richard Green. 

To understand Washington at all we must first strip off all the mythswhich have gathered about him. We must cast aside into the dust-heapsall the wretched inventions of the cherry-tree variety, which werefastened upon him nearly seventy years after his birth. We must look athim as he looked at life and the facts about him, without any illusionor deception, and no man in history can better stand such a scrutiny. 

Born of a distinguished family in the days when the American colonieswere still ruled by an aristocracy, Washington started with all thatgood birth and tradition could give. Beyond this, however, he hadlittle. His family was poor, his mother was left early a widow, and hewas forced after a very limited education to go out into the world tofight for himself He had strong within him the adventurous spirit ofhis race. He became a surveyor, and in the pursuit of this professionplunged into the wilderness, where he soon grew to be an expert hunterand backwoodsman. Even as a boy the gravity of his character andhis mental and physical vigor commended him to those about him, andresponsibility and military command were put in his hands at an age whenmost young men are just leaving college. As the times grew threateningon the frontier, he was sent on a perilous mission to the Indians, inwhich, after passing through many hardships and dangers, he achievedsuccess. When the troubles came with France it was by the soldiers underhis command that the first shots were fired in the war which was todetermine whether the North American continent should be French orEnglish. In his earliest expedition he was defeated by the enemy. Laterhe was with Braddock, and it was he who tried, to rally the brokenEnglish army on the stricken field near Fort Duquesne. On that dayof surprise and slaughter he displayed not only cool courage but thereckless daring which was one of his chief characteristics. He soexposed himself that bullets passed through his coat and hat, and theIndians and the French who tried to bring him down thought he bore acharmed life. He afterwards served with distinction all through theFrench war, and when peace came he went back to the estate which he hadinherited from his brother, the most admired man in Virginia. 

At that time he married, and during the ensuing years he lived the lifeof a Virginia planter, successful in his private affairs and serving thepublic effectively but quietly as a member of the House of Burgesses. When the troubles with the mother country began to thicken he was slowto take extreme ground, but he never wavered in his belief that allattempts to oppress the colonies should be resisted, and when he oncetook up his position there was no shadow of turning. He was one ofVirginia's delegates to the first Continental Congress, and, althoughhe said but little, he was regarded by all the representatives fromthe other colonies as the strongest man among them. There was somethingabout him even then which commanded the respect and the confidence ofevery one who came in contact with him. 

It was from New England, far removed from his own State, that the demandcame for his appointment as commander-in-chief of the American army. Silently he accepted the duty, and, leaving Philadelphia, took commandof the army at Cambridge. There is no need to trace him through theevents that followed. From the time when he drew his sword under thefamous elm tree, he was the embodiment of the American Revolution, andwithout him that revolution would have failed almost at the start. Howhe carried it to victory through defeat and trial and every possibleobstacle is known to all men. 

When it was all over he found himself facing a new situation. He was theidol of the country and of his soldiers. The army was unpaid, and theveteran troops, with arms in their hands, were eager to have him takecontrol of the disordered country as Cromwell had done in Englanda little more than a century before. With the army at his back, andsupported by the great forces which, in every community, desire orderbefore everything else, and are ready to assent to any arrangement whichwill bring peace and quiet, nothing would have been easier than forWashington to have made himself the ruler of the new nation. But thatwas not his conception of duty, and he not only refused to have anythingto do with such a movement himself, but he repressed, by his dominantpersonal influence, all such intentions on the part of the army. Onthe 23d of December, 1783, he met the Congress at Annapolis, and thereresigned his commission. What he then said is one of the two mostmemorable speeches ever made in the United States, and is also memorablefor its meaning and spirit among all speeches ever made by men. He spokeas follows:

"Mr. President:--The great events on which my resignation depended havingat length taken place, I have now the honor of offering my sincerecongratulations to Congress, and of presenting myself before them, tosurrender into their hands the trust committed to me and to claim theindulgence of retiring from the service of my country. 

Happy in the confirmation of our independence and sovereignity andpleased with the opportunity afforded the United States of becominga respectable nation, I resign with satisfaction the appointment Iaccepted with diffidence; a diffidence in my abilities to accomplish soarduous a task, which, however, was superseded by a confidence in therectitude of our cause, the support of the supreme power of the Union, and the patronage of Heaven. 

The successful termination of the war has verified the most sanguineexpectations, and my gratitude for the interposition of Providence andthe assistance I have received from my countrymen increases with everyreview of the momentous contest. 

While I repeat my obligations to the Army in general, I should doinjustice to my own feelings not to acknowledge, in this place, thepeculiar services and distinguished merits of the Gentlemen who havebeen attached to my person during the war. It was impossible that thechoice of confidential officers to compose my family should have beenmore fortunate. Permit me, sir, to recommend in particular thosewho have continued in service to the present moment as worthy of thefavorable notice and patronage of Congress. 

I consider it an indispensable duty to close this last solemn act of myofficial life by commending the interests of our dearest country to theprotection of Almighty God, and those who have the superintendence ofthem to His holy keeping. 

Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the greattheatre of action, and, bidding an affectionate farewell to thisaugust body, under whose orders I have so long acted, I here offer mycommission and take my leave of all the employments of public life. "

The great master of English fiction, writing of this scene at Annapolis, says: "Which was the most splendid spectacle ever witnessed--the openingfeast of Prince George in London, or the resignation of Washington?Which is the noble character for after ages to admire--yon fribbledancing in lace and spangles, or yonder hero who sheathes his swordafter a life of spotless honor, a purity unreproached, a courageindomitable and a consummate victory?"

Washington did not refuse the dictatorship, or, rather, the opportunityto take control of the country, because he feared heavy responsibility, but solely because, as a high-minded and patriotic man, he did notbelieve in meeting the situation in that way. He was, moreover, entirelydevoid of personal ambition, and had no vulgar longing for personalpower. After resigning his commission he returned quietly to MountVernon, but he did not hold himself aloof from public affairs. On thecontrary, he watched their course with the utmost anxiety. He saw thefeeble Confederation breaking to pieces, and he soon realized that thatform of government was an utter failure. In a time when no Americanstatesman except Hamilton had yet freed himself from the local feelingsof the colonial days, Washington was thoroughly national in all hisviews. Out of the thirteen jarring colonies he meant that a nationshould come, and he saw--what no one else saw--the destiny of thecountry to the westward. He wished a nation founded which should crossthe Alleghanies, and, holding the mouths of the Mississippi, takepossession of all that vast and then unknown region. For these reasonshe stood at the head of the national movement, and to him all men turnedwho desired a better union and sought to bring order out of chaos. Withhim Hamilton and Madison consulted in the preliminary stages whichwere to lead to the formation of a new system. It was his vast personalinfluence which made that movement a success, and when the conventionto form a constitution met at Philadelphia, he presided over itsdeliberations, and it was his commanding will which, more than anythingelse, brought a constitution through difficulties and conflictinginterests which more than once made any result seem well-nigh hopeless. When the Constitution formed at Philadelphia had been ratified by theStates, all men turned to Washington to stand at the head of the newgovernment. As he had borne the burden of the Revolution, so he nowtook up the task of bringing the government of the Constitution intoexistence. For eight years he served as president. He came intooffice with a paper constitution, the heir of a bankrupt, broken-downconfederation. He left the United States, when he went out of office, an effective and vigorous government. When he was inaugurated, wehad nothing but the clauses of the Constitution as agreed to by theConvention. When he laid down the presidency, we had an organizedgovernment, an established revenue, a funded debt, a high credit, anefficient system of banking, a strong judiciary, and an army. We had avigorous and well-defined foreign policy; we had recovered the westernposts, which, in the hands of the British, had fettered our march to thewest; and we had proved our power to maintain order at home, to repressinsurrection, to collect the national taxes, and to enforce the lawsmade by Congress. Thus Washington had shown that rare combination of theleader who could first destroy by revolution, and who, having led hiscountry through a great civil war, was then able to build up a new andlasting fabric upon the ruins of a system which had been overthrown. At the close of his official service he returned again to Mount Vernon, and, after a few years of quiet retirement, died just as the century inwhich he had played so great a part was closing. 

Washington stands among the greatest men of human history, and those inthe same rank with him are very few. Whether measured by what he did, orwhat he was, or by the effect of his work upon the history of mankind, in every aspect he is entitled to the place he holds among the greatestof his race. Few men in all time have such a record of achievement. Still fewer can show at the end of a career so crowded with highdeeds and memorable victories a life so free from spot, a characterso unselfish and so pure, a fame so void of doubtful points demandingeither defense or explanation. Eulogy of such a life is needless, but itis always important to recall and to freshly remember just what mannerof man he was. In the first place he was physically a striking figure. He was very tall, powerfully made, with a strong, handsome face. Hewas remarkably muscular and powerful. As a boy he was a leader in alloutdoor sports. No one could fling the bar further than he, and no onecould ride more difficult horses. As a young man he became a woodsmanand hunter. Day after day he could tramp through the wilderness with hisgun and his surveyor's chain, and then sleep at night beneath the stars. He feared no exposure or fatigue, and outdid the hardiest backwoodsmanin following a winter trail and swimming icy streams. This habit ofvigorous bodily exercise he carried through life. Whenever he was atMount Vernon he gave a large part of his time to fox-hunting, ridingafter his hounds through the most difficult country. His physical powerand endurance counted for much in his success when he commanded hisarmy, and when the heavy anxieties of general and president weighed uponhis mind and heart. 

He was an educated, but not a learned man. He read well and rememberedwhat he read, but his life was, from the beginning, a life of action, and the world of men was his school. He was not a military genius likeHannibal, or Caesar, or Napoleon, of which the world has had only threeor four examples. But he was a great soldier of the type which theEnglish race has produced, like Marlborough and Cromwell, Wellington, Grant, and Lee. He was patient under defeat, capable of largecombinations, a stubborn and often reckless fighter, a winner ofbattles, but much more, a conclusive winner in a long war of varyingfortunes. He was, in addition, what very few great soldiers orcommanders have ever been, a great constitutional statesman, able tolead a people along the paths of free government without undertakinghimself to play the part of the strong man, the usurper, or the saviorof society. 

He was a very silent man. Of no man of equal importance in the world'shistory have we so few sayings of a personal kind. He was ready enoughto talk or to write about the public duties which he had in hand, but hehardly ever talked of himself. Yet there can be no greater error thanto suppose Washington cold and unfeeling, because of his silence andreserve. He was by nature a man of strong desires and stormy passions. Now and again he would break out, even as late as the presidency, intoa gust of anger that would sweep everything before it. He was alwaysreckless of personal danger, and had a fierce fighting spirit whichnothing could check when it was once unchained. 

But as a rule these fiery impulses and strong passions were under theabsolute control of an iron will, and they never clouded his judgment orwarped his keen sense of justice. 

But if he was not of a cold nature, still less was he hard or unfeeling. His pity always went out to the poor, the oppressed, or the unhappy, andhe was all that was kind and gentle to those immediately about him. 

We have to look carefully into his life to learn all these things, forthe world saw only a silent, reserved man, of courteous and seriousmanner, who seemed to stand alone and apart, and who impressed every onewho came near him with a sense of awe and reverence. 

One quality he had which was, perhaps, more characteristic of the manand his greatness than any other. This was his perfect veracity of mind. He was, of course, the soul of truth and honor, but he was even morethan that. He never deceived himself He always looked facts squarely inthe face and dealt with them as such, dreaming no dreams, cherishing nodelusions, asking no impossibilities, --just to others as to himself, andthus winning alike in war and in peace. 

He gave dignity as well as victory to his country and his cause. He was, in truth, a "character for after ages to admire. "

DANIEL BOONE AND THE FOUNDING OF KENTUCKY

 . .. Boone lived hunting up to ninety; And, what's still stranger, left behind a name For which men vainly decimate the throng, Not only famous, but of that GOOD fame, Without which glory's but a tavern song, -- Simple, serene, the antipodes of shame, Which hate nor envy e'er could tinge with wrong;

 'T is true he shrank from men, even of his nation; When they built up unto his darling trees, He moved some hundred miles off, for a station Where there were fewer houses and more ease;

 * * *

 But where he met the individual man, He showed himself as kind as mortal can. 

 * * *

 The freeborn forest found and kept them free, And fresh as is a torrent or a tree. 

 And tall, and strong, and swift of foot were they, Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions, Because their thoughts had never been the prey Of care or gain; the green woods were their portions

 * * *

 Simple they were, not savage; and their rifles, Though very true, were yet not used for trifles. 

 * * *

 Serene, not sullen, were the solitudes Of this unsighing people of the woods. --Byron. 

Daniel Boone will always occupy a unique place in our history as thearchetype of the hunter and wilderness wanderer. He was a true pioneer, and stood at the head of that class of Indian-fighters, game-hunters, forest-fellers, and backwoods farmers who, generation after generation, pushed westward the border of civilization from the Alleghanies to thePacific. As he himself said, he was "an instrument ordained of God tosettle the wilderness. " Born in Pennsylvania, he drifted south intowestern North Carolina, and settled on what was then the extremefrontier. There he married, built a log cabin, and hunted, choppedtrees, and tilled the ground like any other frontiersman. The AlleghanyMountains still marked a boundary beyond which the settlers dared notgo; for west of them lay immense reaches of frowning forest, uninhabitedsave by bands of warlike Indians. Occasionally some venturesome hunteror trapper penetrated this immense wilderness, and returned with strangestories of what he had seen and done. 

In 1769 Boone, excited by these vague and wondrous tales, determinedhimself to cross the mountains and find out what manner of land it wasthat lay beyond. With a few chosen companions he set out, making his owntrail through the gloomy forest. After weeks of wandering, he at lastemerged into the beautiful and fertile country of Kentucky, for which, in after years, the red men and the white strove with such obstinatefury that it grew to be called "the dark and bloody ground. " But whenBoone first saw it, it was a fair and smiling land of groves and gladesand running waters, where the open forest grew tall and beautiful, andwhere innumerable herds of game grazed, roaming ceaselessly to and froalong the trails they had trodden during countless generations. Kentuckywas not owned by any Indian tribe, and was visited only by wanderingwar-parties and hunting-parties who came from among the savage nationsliving north of the Ohio or south of the Tennessee. 

A roving war-party stumbled upon one of Boone's companions and killedhim, and the others then left Boone and journeyed home; but hisbrother came out to join him, and the two spent the winter together. Self-reliant, fearless, and the frowning defiles of Cumberland Gap, theywere attacked by Indians, and driven back--two of Boone's own sons beingslain. In 1775, however, he made another attempt; and this attempt wassuccessful. The Indians attacked the newcomers; but by this time theparties of would-be settlers were sufficiently numerous to hold theirown. They beat back the Indians, and built rough little hamlets, surrounded by log stockades, at Boonesborough and Harrodsburg; and thepermanent settlement of Kentucky had begun. 

The next few years were passed by Boone amid unending Indian conflicts. He was a leader among the settlers, both in peace and in war. At onetime he represented them in the House of Burgesses of Virginia; atanother time he was a member of the first little Kentucky parliamentitself; and he became a colonel of the frontier militia. He tilled theland, and he chopped the trees himself; he helped to build the cabinsand stockades with his own hands, wielding the longhandled, light-headedfrontier ax as skilfully as other frontiersmen. His main business wasthat of surveyor, for his knowledge of the country, and his ability totravel through it, in spite of the danger from Indians, created muchdemand for his services among people who wished to lay off tracts ofwild land for their own future use. But whatever he did, and wherever hewent, he had to be sleeplessly on the lookout for his Indian foes. Whenhe and his fellows tilled the stump-dotted fields of corn, one or moreof the party were always on guard, with weapon at the ready, for fear oflurking savages. When he went to the House of Burgesses he carried hislong rifle, and traversed roads not a mile of which was free from thedanger of Indian attack. The settlements in the early years dependedexclusively upon game for their meat, and Boone was the mightiest of allthe hunters, so that upon him devolved the task of keeping his peoplesupplied. He killed many buffaloes, and pickled the buffalo beef foruse in winter. He killed great numbers of black bear, and made bacon ofthem, precisely as if they had been hogs. The common game were deer andelk. At that time none of the hunters of Kentucky would waste a shot onanything so small as a prairie-chicken or wild duck; but they sometimeskilled geese and swans when they came south in winter and lit on therivers. 

But whenever Boone went into the woods after game, he had perpetually tokeep watch lest he himself might be hunted in turn. He never lay in waitat a game-lick, save with ears strained to hear the approach of somecrawling red foe. He never crept up to a turkey he heard calling, without exercising the utmost care to see that it was not an Indian;for one of the favorite devices of the Indians was to imitate the turkeycall, and thus allure within range some inexperienced hunter. 

Besides this warfare, which went on in the midst of his usual vocations, Boone frequently took the field on set expeditions against the savages. Once when he and a party of other men were making salt at a lick, theywere surprised and carried off by the Indians. The old hunter was aprisoner with them for some months, but finally made his escape and camehome through the trackless woods as straight as the wild pigeon flies. He was ever on the watch to ward off the Indian inroads, and to followthe warparties, and try to rescue the prisoners. Once his own daughter, and two other girls who were with her, were carried off by a band ofIndians. Boone raised some friends and followed the trail steadily fortwo days and a night; then they came to where the Indians had killed abuffalo calf and were camped around it. Firing from a little distance, the whites shot two of the Indians, and, rushing in, rescued the girls. On another occasion, when Boone had gone to visit a salt-lick with hisbrother, the Indians ambushed them and shot the latter. Boone himselfescaped, but the Indians followed him for three miles by the aid ofa tracking dog, until Boone turned, shot the dog, and then eluded hispursuers. In company with Simon Kenton and many other noted hunters andwilderness warriors, he once and again took part in expeditions into theIndian country, where they killed the braves and drove off the horses. Twice bands of Indians, accompanied by French, Tory, and Britishpartizans from Detroit, bearing the flag of Great Britain, attackedBoonesboroug. In each case Boone and his fellow-settlers beat them offwith loss. At the fatal battle of the Blue Licks, in which two hundredof the best riflemen of Kentucky were beaten with terrible slaughter bya great force of Indians from the lakes, Boone commanded the left wing. Leading his men, rifle in hand, he pushed back and overthrew the forceagainst him; but meanwhile the Indians destroyed the right wing andcenter, and got round in his rear, so that there was nothing left forBoone's men except to flee with all possible speed. 

As Kentucky became settled, Boone grew restless and ill at ease. He loved the wilderness; he loved the great forests and the greatprairie-like glades, and the life in the little lonely cabin, where fromthe door he could see the deer come out into the clearing at nightfall. The neighborhood of his own kind made him feel cramped and ill at ease. So he moved ever westward with the frontier; and as Kentucky filled uphe crossed the Mississippi and settled on the borders of the prairiecountry of Missouri, where the Spaniards, who ruled the territory, madehim an alcalde, or judge. He lived to a great age, and died out on theborder, a backwoods hunter to the last. 

GEORGE ROGERS CLARK AND THE CONQUEST OF THE NORTHWEST

 Have the elder races halted? Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the seas? We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson, Pioneers! O Pioneers! All the past we leave behind, We debouch upon a newer, mightier world, varied world;

 Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march, Pioneers! O Pioneers! We detachments steady throwing, Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep, Conquering, holding, daring, venturing, as we go the unknown ways, Pioneers! O Pioneers!

 * * * * * * *

 The sachem blowing the smoke first towards the sun and then towards the earth, The drama of the scalp dance enacted with painted faces and guttural exclamations, The setting out of the war-party, the long and stealthy march, The single file, the swinging hatchets, the surprise and slaughter of enemies. --Whitman. 

In 1776, when independence was declared, the United States included onlythe thirteen original States on the seaboard. With the exception of afew hunters there were no white men west of the Alleghany Mountains, andthere was not even an American hunter in the great country out of whichwe have since made the States of Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Michigan, andWisconsin. All this region north of the Ohio River then formed apartof the Province of Quebec. It was a wilderness of forests and prairies, teeming with game, and inhabited by many warlike tribes of Indians. 

Here and there through it were dotted quaint little towns of FrenchCreoles, the most important being Detroit, Vincennes on the Wabash, andKaskaskia and Kahokia on the Illinois. These French villages were ruledby British officers commanding small bodies of regular soldiers or Toryrangers and Creole partizans. The towns were completely in the powerof the British government; none of the American States had actualpossession of a foot of property in the Northwestern Territory. 

The Northwest was acquired in the midst of the Revolution only by armedconquest, and if it had not been so acquired, it would have remained apart of the British Dominion of Canada. 

The man to whom this conquest was clue was a famous backwoods leader, a mighty hunter, a noted Indian-fighter, George Rogers Clark. He was avery strong man, with light hair and blue eyes. He was of good Virginianfamily. Early in his youth, he embarked on the adventurous career ofa backwoods surveyor, exactly as Washington and so many other youngVirginians of spirit did at that period. He traveled out to Kentuckysoon after it was founded by Boone, and lived there for a year, eitherat the stations or camping by him self in the woods, surveying, hunting, and making war against the Indians like any other settler; but all thetime his mind was bent on vaster schemes than were dreamed of by themen around him. He had his spies out in the Northwestern Territory, andbecame convinced that with a small force of resolute backwoodsmen hecould conquer it for the United States. When he went back to Virginia, Governor Patrick Henry entered heartily into Clark's schemes and gavehim authority to fit out a force for his purpose. 

In 1778, after encountering endless difficulties and delays, he finallyraised a hundred and fifty backwoods riflemen. In May they started downthe Ohio in flatboats to undertake the allotted task. They drifted androwed downstream to the Falls of the Ohio, where Clark founded a loghamlet, which has since become the great city of Louisville. 

Here he halted for some days and was joined by fifty or sixtyvolunteers; but a number of the men deserted, and when, after an eclipseof the sun, Clark again pushed off to go down with the current, hisforce was but about one hundred and sixty riflemen. All, however, weremen on whom he could depend--men well used to frontier warfare. Theywere tall, stalwart backwoodsmen, clad in the hunting-shirt and leggingsthat formed the national dress of their kind, and armed with thedistinctive weapon of the backwoods, the long-barreled, small-borerifle. 

Before reaching the Mississippi the little flotilla landed, and Clarkled his men northward against the Illinois towns. In one of them, Kaskaskia, dwelt the British commander of the entire district up toDetroit. The small garrison and the Creole militia taken togetheroutnumbered Clark's force, and they were in close alliance with theIndians roundabout. Clark was anxious to take the town by surprise andavoid bloodshed, as he believed he could win over the Creoles to theAmerican side. Marching cautiously by night and generally hiding by day, he came to the outskirts of the little village on the evening of July 4, and lay in the woods near by until after nightfall. 

Fortune favored him. That evening the officers of the garrison hadgiven a great ball to the mirth-loving Creoles, and almost the entirepopulation of the village had gathered in the fort, where the dancewas held. While the revelry was at its height, Clark and his tallbackwoodsmen, treading silently through the darkness, came into thetown, surprised the sentries, and surrounded the fort without causingany alarm. 

All the British and French capable of bearing arms were gathered in thefort to take part in or look on at the merrymaking. When his men wereposted Clark walked boldly forward through the open door, and, leaningagainst the wall, looked at the dancers as they whirled around in thelight of the flaring torches. For some moments no one noticed him. Then an Indian who had been lying with his chin on his hand, lookingcarefully over the gaunt figure of the stranger, sprang to his feet, anduttered the wild war-whoop. Immediately the dancing ceased and the menran to and fro in confusion; but Clark, stepping forward, bade them beat their ease, but to remember that henceforth they danced under theflag of the United States, and not under that of Great Britain. 

The surprise was complete, and no resistance was attempted. Fortwenty-four hours the Creoles were in abject terror. Then Clark summonedtheir chief men together and explained that he came as their ally, andnot as their foe, and that if they would join with him they should becitizens of the American republic, and treated in all respects onan equality with their comrades. The Creoles, caring little for theBritish, and rather fickle of nature, accepted the proposition with joy, and with the most enthusiastic loyalty toward Clark. Not only that, butsending messengers to their kinsmen on the Wabash, they persuaded thepeople of Vincennes likewise to cast off their allegiance to the Britishking, and to hoist the American flag. 

So far, Clark had conquered with greater ease than he had dared to hope. But when the news reached the British governor, Hamilton, at Detroit, he at once prepared to reconquer the land. He had much greater forces athis command than Clark had; and in the fall of that year he came down toVincennes by stream and portage, in a great fleet of canoes bearing fivehundred fighting men-British regulars, French partizans, and Indians. The Vincennes Creoles refused to fight against the British, and theAmerican officer who had been sent thither by Clark had no alternativebut to surrender. 

If Hamilton had then pushed on and struck Clark in Illinois, havingmore than treble Clark's force, he could hardly have failed to win thevictory; but the season was late and the journey so difficult that hedid not believe it could be taken. Accordingly he disbanded the Indiansand sent some of his troops back to Detroit, announcing that when springcame he would march against Clark in Illinois. 

If Clark in turn had awaited the blow he would have surely met defeat;but he was a greater man than his antagonist, and he did what the otherdeemed impossible. 

Finding that Hamilton had sent home some of his troops and dispersedall his Indians, Clark realized that his chance was to strike beforeHamilton's soldiers assembled again in the spring. Accordingly hegathered together the pick of his men, together with a few Creoles, onehundred and seventy all told, and set out for Vincennes. At first thejourney was easy enough, for they passed across the snowy Illinoisprairies, broken by great reaches of lofty woods. They killed elk, buffalo, and deer for food, there being no difficulty in getting allthey wanted to eat; and at night they built huge fires by which tosleep, and feasted "like Indian war-dancers, " as Clark said in hisreport. 

But when, in the middle of February, they reached the drowned lands ofthe Wabash, where the ice had just broken up and everything was flooded, the difficulties seemed almost insuperable, and the march became painfuland laborious to a degree. All day long the troops waded in the icywater, and at night they could with difficulty find some little hillockon which to sleep. Only Clark's indomitable courage and cheerfulnesskept the party in heart and enabled them to persevere. However, persevere they did, and at last, on February 23, they came in sightof the town of Vincennes. They captured a Creole who was out shootingducks, and from him learned that their approach was utterly unsuspected, and that there were many Indians in town. 

Clark was now in some doubt as to how to make his fight. The Britishregulars dwelt in a small fort at one end of the town, where they hadtwo light guns; but Clark feared lest, if he made a sudden night attack, the townspeople and Indians would from sheer fright turn against him. Heaccordingly arranged, just before he himself marched in, to send in thecaptured duck-hunter, conveying a warning to the Indians and the Creolesthat he was about to attack the town, but that his only quarrel was withthe British, and that if the other inhabitants would stay in their ownhomes they would not be molested. Sending the duck-hunter ahead, Clarktook up his march and entered the town just after nightfall. The newsconveyed by the released hunter astounded the townspeople, and theytalked it over eagerly, and were in doubt what to do. The Indians, notknowing how great might be the force that would assail the town, at oncetook refuge in the neighboring woods, while the Creoles retired to theirown houses. The British knew nothing of what had happened until theAmericans had actually entered the streets of the little village. Rushing forward, Clark's men soon penned the regulars within theirfort, where they kept them surrounded all night. The next day a partyof Indian warriors, who in the British interest had been ravaging thesettlements of Kentucky, arrived and entered the town, ignorant thatthe Americans had captured it. Marching boldly forward to the fort, they suddenly found it beleaguered, and before they could flee they wereseized by the backwoodsmen. In their belts they carried the scalps ofthe slain settlers. The savages were taken redhanded, and the Americanfrontiersmen were in no mood to show mercy. All the Indians weretomahawked in sight of the fort. 

For some time the British defended themselves well; but at length theirguns were disabled, all of the gunners being picked off by the backwoodsmarksmen, and finally the garrison dared not so much as appear at aport-hole, so deadly was the fire from the long rifles. Under suchcircumstances Hamilton was forced to surrender. 

No attempt was afterward made to molest the Americans in the land theyhad won, and upon the conclusion of peace the Northwest, which had beenconquered by Clark, became part of the United States. 

THE BATTLE OF TRENTON

 And such they are--and such they will be found: Not so Leonidas and Washington, Their every battle-field is holy ground Which breathes of nations saved, not worlds undone. How sweetly on the ear such echoes sound! While the mere victor's may appal or stun The servile and the vain, such names will be A watchword till the future shall be free. --Byron. 

In December, 1776, the American Revolution was at its lowest ebb. Thefirst burst of enthusiasm, which drove the British back from Concordand met them hand to hand at Bunker Hill, which forced them to abandonBoston and repulsed their attack at Charleston, had spent its force. Theundisciplined American forces called suddenly from the workshop and thefarm had given way, under the strain of a prolonged contest, and hadbeen greatly scattered, many of the soldiers returning to their homes. The power of England, on the other hand, with her disciplined army andabundant resources, had begun to tell. Washington, fighting stubbornly, had been driven during the summer and autumn from Long Island up theHudson, and New York had passed into the hands of the British. ThenForts Lee and Washington had been lost, and finally the Continental armyhad retreated to New Jersey. On the second of December Washington wasat Princeton with some three thousand ragged soldiers, and had escapeddestruction only by the rapidity of his movements. By the middle of themonth General Howe felt that the American army, unable as he believedeither to fight or to withstand the winter, must soon dissolve, and, posting strong detachments at various points, he took up his winterquarters in New York. The British general had under his command in hisvarious divisions twenty-five thousand well-disciplined soldiers, andthe conclusion he had reached was not an unreasonable one; everything, in fact, seemed to confirm his opinion. Thousands of the colonists werecoming in and accepting his amnesty. The American militia had left thefield, and no more would turn out, despite Washington's earnest appeals. All that remained of the American Revolution was the little Continentalarmy and the man who led it. 

Yet even in this dark hour Washington did not despair. He sent in everydirection for troops. Nothing was forgotten. Nothing that he could dowas left undone. Unceasingly he urged action upon Congress, and at thesame time with indomitable fighting spirit he planned to attack theBritish. It was a desperate undertaking in the face of such heavy odds, for in all his divisions he had only some six thousand men, and eventhese were scattered. The single hope was that by his own skill andcourage he could snatch victory from a situation where victory seemedimpossible. With the instinct of a great commander he saw that his onlychance was to fight the British detachments suddenly, unexpectedly, and separately, and to do this not only required secrecy and perfectjudgment, but also the cool, unwavering courage of which, under suchcircumstances, very few men have proved themselves capable. As Christmasapproached his plans were ready. He determined to fall upon the Britishdetachment of Hessians, under Colonel Rahl, at Trenton, and there strikehis first blow. To each division of his little army a part in theattack was assigned with careful forethought. Nothing was overlooked andnothing omitted, and then, for some reason good or bad, every one ofthe division commanders failed to do his part. As the general plan wasarranged, Gates was to march from Bristol with two thousand men; Ewingwas to cross at Trenton; Putnam was to come up from Philadelphia; andGriffin was to make a diversion against Donop. When the moment came, Gates, who disapproved the plan, was on his way to Congress; Griffinabandoned New Jersey and fled before Donop; Putnam did not attemptto leave Philadelphia; and Ewing made no effort to cross at Trenton. Cadwalader came down from Bristol, looked at the river and thefloating ice, and then gave it up as desperate. Nothing remained exceptWashington himself with the main army, but he neither gave up, norhesitated, nor stopped on account of the ice, or the river, or theperils which lay beyond. On Christmas Eve, when all the Christianworld was feasting and rejoicing, and while the British were enjoyingthemselves in their comfortable quarters, Washington set out. Withtwenty-four hundred men he crossed the Delaware through the floating ice, his boats managed and rowed by the sturdy fishermen of Marblehead fromGlover's regiment. The crossing was successful, and he landed about ninemiles from Trenton. It was bitter cold, and the sleet and snow drovesharply in the faces of the troops. Sullivan, marching by the river, sent word that the arms of his soldiers were wet. "Tell your general, "was Washington's reply to the message, "to use the bayonet, for thetown must be taken. " When they reached Trenton it was broad daylight. Washington, at the front and on the right of the line, swept down thePennington road, and, as he drove back the Hessian pickets, he heard theshout of Sullivan's men as, with Stark leading the van, they charged infrom the river. A company of jaegers and of light dragoons slipped away. There was some fighting in the streets, but the attack was so strong andwell calculated that resistance was useless. Colonel Rahl, the Britishcommander, aroused from his revels, was killed as he rushed out to rallyhis men, and in a few moments all was over. A thousand prisoners fellinto Washington's hands, and this important detachment of the enemy wascut off and destroyed. 

The news of Trenton alarmed the British, and Lord Cornwallis with seventhousand of the best troops started at once from New York in hot pursuitof the American army. Washington, who had now rallied some five thousandmen, fell back, skirmishing heavily, behind the Assunpink, and whenCornwallis reached the river he found the American army awaiting him onthe other side of the stream. Night was falling, and Cornwallis, feelingsure of his prey, decided that he would not risk an assault until thenext morning. Many lessons had not yet taught him that it was a fatalbusiness to give even twelve hours to the great soldier opposed to him. During the night Washington, leaving his fires burning and takinga roundabout road which he had already reconnoitered, marched toPrinceton. There he struck another British detachment. A sharp fightensued, the British division was broken and defeated, losing some fivehundred men, and Washington withdrew after this second victory to thehighlands of New Jersey to rest and recruit. 

Frederick the Great is reported to have said that this was the mostbrilliant campaign of the century. With a force very much smaller thanthat of the enemy, Washington had succeeded in striking the British attwo places with superior forces at each point of contact. At Trenton hehad the benefit of a surprise, but the second time he was between twohostile armies. He was ready to fight Cornwallis when the latter reachedthe Assunpink, trusting to the strength of his position to make up forhis inferiority of numbers. But when Cornwallis gave him the delay of anight, Washington, seeing the advantage offered by his enemy's mistake, at once changed his whole plan, and, turning in his tracks, fell uponthe smaller of the two forces opposed to him, wrecking and defeatingit before the outgeneraled Cornwallis could get up with the main army. Washington had thus shown the highest form of military skill, forthere is nothing that requires so much judgment and knowledge, so muchcertainty of movement and quick decision, as to meet a superior enemy atdifferent points, force the fighting, and at each point to outnumber andoverwhelm him. 

But the military part of this great campaign was not all. Many greatsoldiers have not been statesmen, and have failed to realize thepolitical necessities of the situation. Washington presented the rarecombination of a great soldier and a great statesman as well. He aimednot only to win battles, but by his operations in the field to influencethe political situation and affect public opinion. The AmericanRevolution was going to pieces. Unless some decisive victory could bewon immediately, it would have come to an end in the winter of 1776-77. This Washington knew, and it was this which nerved his arm. The resultsjustified his forethought. The victories of Trenton and Princetonrestored the failing spirits of the people, and, what was hardlyless important, produced a deep impression in Europe in favor of thecolonies. The country, which had lost heart, and become supine andalmost hostile, revived. The militia again took the field. Outlyingparties of the British were attacked and cut off, and recruits once morebegan to come in to the Continental army. The Revolution was saved. Thatthe English colonies in North America would have broken away from themother country sooner or later cannot be doubted, but that particularRevolution Of 1776 would have failed within a year, had it not beenfor Washington. It is not, however, merely the fact that he was a greatsoldier and statesman which we should remember. The most memorable thingto us, and to all men, is the heroic spirit of the man, which rose inthose dreary December days to its greatest height, under conditionsso adverse that they had crushed the hope of every one else. Let itbe remembered, also, that it was not a spirit of desperation or ofignorance, a reckless daring which did not count the cost. No one knewbetter than Washington--no one, indeed, so well--the exact state ofaffairs; for he, conspicuously among great men, always looked factsfearlessly in the face, and never deceived himself. He was under noillusions, and it was this high quality of mind as much as any otherwhich enabled him to win victories. 

How he really felt we know from what he wrote to Congress on December20, when he said: "It may be thought that I am going a good deal out ofthe line of my duty to adopt these measures or to advise thus freely. A character to lose, an estate to forfeit, the inestimable blessing ofliberty at stake, and a life devoted, must be my excuse. " These were thethoughts in his mind when he was planning this masterly campaign. Thesesame thoughts, we may readily believe, were with him when his boat wasmaking its way through the ice of the Delaware on Christmas Eve. It wasa very solemn moment, and he was the only man in the darkness of thatnight who fully understood what was at stake; but then, as always, hewas calm and serious, with a high courage which nothing could depress. 

The familiar picture of a later day depicts Washington crossing theDelaware at the head of his soldiers. He is standing up in the boat, looking forward in the teeth of the storm. It matters little whether thework of the painter is in exact accordance with the real scene or not. The daring courage, the high resolve, the stern look forward and onward, which the artist strove to show in the great leader, are all vitallytrue. For we may be sure that the man who led that well-planned butdesperate assault, surrounded by darker conditions than the storms ofnature which gathered about his boat, and carrying with him the fortunesof his country, was at that moment one of the most heroic figures inhistory. 

BENNINGTON

 We are but warriors for the working-day; Our gayness and our guilt are all besmirch'd With rainy marching in the painful field; There's not a piece of feather in our host (Good argument, I hope, we shall not fly), And time hath worn us into slovenry. But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim, And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night They'll be in fresher robes. --Henry V. 

The battle of Saratoga is included by Sir Edward Creasy among hisfifteen decisive battles which have, by their result, affected thehistory of the world. It is true that the American Revolution was savedby Washington in the remarkable Princeton and Trenton campaign, butit is equally true that the surrender of Burgoyne at Saratoga, in thefollowing autumn, turned the scale decisively in favor of the colonistsby the impression which it made in Europe. It was the destruction ofBurgoyne's army which determined France to aid the Americans againstEngland. Hence came the French alliance, the French troops, and, whatwas of far more importance, a French fleet by which Washington wasfinally able to get control of the sea, and in this way cut offCornwallis at Yorktown and bring the Revolution to a successful close. That which led, however, more directly than anything else to the finalsurrender at Saratoga was the fight at Bennington, by which Burgoyne'sarmy was severely crippled and weakened, and by which also, the hardymilitia of the North eastern States were led to turn out in largenumbers and join the army of Gates. 

The English ministry had built great hopes upon Burgoyne's expedition, and neither expense nor effort had been spared to make it successful. Hewas amply furnished with money and supplies as well as with English andGerman troops, the latter of whom were bought from their wretched littleprinces by the payment of generous subsidies. With an admirably equippedarmy of over seven thousand men, and accompanied by a large force ofIndian allies, Burgoyne had started in May, 1777, from Canada. His planwas to make his way by the lakes to the head waters of the Hudson, andthence southward along the river to New York, where he was to unite withSir William Howe and the main army; in this way cutting the colonies intwo, and separating New England from the rest of the country. 

At first all went well. The Americans were pushed back from their postson the lakes, and by the end of July Burgoyne was at the head waters ofthe Hudson. He had already sent out a force, under St. Leger, to takepossession of the valley of the Mohawk--an expedition which finallyresulted in the defeat of the British by Herkimer, and the captureof Fort Stanwix. To aid St. Leger by a diversion, and also to capturecertain magazines which were reported to be at Bennington, Burgoyne sentanother expedition to the eastward. This force consisted of about fivehundred and fifty white troops, chiefly Hessians, and one hundred andfifty Indians, all under the command of Colonel Baum. They were withinfour miles of Bennington on August 13, 1777, and encamped on a hill justwithin the boundaries of the State of New York. The news of the advanceof Burgoyne had already roused the people of New York and New Hampshire, and the legislature of the latter State had ordered General Stark witha brigade of militia to stop the progress of the enemy on the westernfrontier. Stark raised his standard at Charlestown on the ConnecticutRiver, and the militia poured into his camp. Disregarding Schuyler'sorders to join the main American army, which was falling back beforeBurgoyne, Stark, as soon as he heard of the expedition againstBennington, marched at once to meet Baum. He was within a mile of theBritish camp on August 14, and vainly endeavored to draw Baum intoaction. On the 15th it rained heavily, and the British forces occupiedthe time in intrenching themselves strongly upon the hill which theyheld. Baum meantime had already sent to Burgoyne for reinforcements, and Burgoyne had detached Colonel Breymann with over six hundred regulartroops to go to Baum's assistance. On the 16th the weather cleared, andStark, who had been reinforced by militia from western Massachusetts, determined to attack. 

Early in the day he sent men, under Nichols and Herrick, to get into therear of Baum's position. The German officer, ignorant of the countryand of the nature of the warfare in which he was engaged, noticed smallbodies of men in their shirtsleeves, and carrying guns without bayonets, making their way to the rear of his intrenchments. With singularstupidity he concluded that they were Tory inhabitants of the countrywho were coming to his assistance, and made no attempt to stop them. Inthis way Stark was enabled to mass about five hundred men in the rearof the enemy's position. Distracting the attention of the British by afeint, Stark also moved about two hundred men to the right, and havingthus brought his forces into position he ordered a general assault, and the Americans proceeded to storm the British intrenchments on everyside. The fight was a very hot one, and lasted some two hours. TheIndians, at the beginning of the action, slipped away between theAmerican detachments, but the British and German regulars stubbornlystood their ground. It is difficult to get at the exact numbers of theAmerican troops, but Stark seems to have had between fifteen hundred andtwo thousand militia. He thus outnumbered his enemy nearly three toone, but his men were merely country militia, farmers of the New EnglandStates, very imperfectly disciplined, and armed only with muskets andfowling-pieces, without bayonets or side-arms. On the other side Baumhad the most highly disciplined troops of England and Germany underhis command, well armed and equipped, and he was moreover stronglyintrenched with artillery well placed behind the breastworks. Theadvantage in the fight should have been clearly with Baum and hisregulars, who merely had to hold an intrenched hill. 

It was not a battle in which either military strategy or a scientificmanagement of troops was displayed. All that Stark did was to place hismen so that they could attack the enemy's position on every side, andthen the Americans went at it, firing as they pressed on. The Britishand Germans stood their ground stubbornly, while the New England farmersrushed up to within eight yards of the cannon, and picked off themen who manned the guns. Stark himself was in the midst of the fray, fighting with his soldiers, and came out of the conflict so blackenedwith powder and smoke that he could hardly be recognized. One desperateassault succeeded another, while the firing on both sides was soincessant as to make, in Stark's own words, a "continuous roar. " At theend of two hours the Americans finally swarmed over the intrenchments, beating down the soldiers with their clubbed muskets. Baum ordered hisinfantry with the bayonet and the dragoons with their sabers to forcetheir way through, but the Americans repulsed this final charge, andBaum himself fell mortally wounded. All was then over, and the Britishforces surrendered. 

It was only just in time, for Breymann, who had taken thirty hours tomarch some twenty-four miles, came up just after Baum's men had laiddown their arms. It seemed for a moment as if all that had been gainedmight be lost. The Americans, attacked by this fresh foe, wavered; butStark rallied his line, and putting in Warner, with one hundred andfifty Vermont men who had just come on the field, stopped Breymann'sadvance, and finally forced him to retreat with a loss of nearly onehalf his men. The Americans lost in killed and wounded some seventy men, and the Germans and British about twice as many, but the Americans tookabout seven hundred prisoners, and completely wrecked the forces of Baumand Breymann. 

The blow was a severe one, and Burgoyne's army never recovered fromit. Not only had he lost nearly a thousand of his best troops, besidescannon, arms, and munitions of war, but the defeat affected the spiritsof his army and destroyed his hold over his Indian allies, who beganto desert in large numbers. Bennington, in fact, was one of the mostimportant fights of the Revolution, contributing as it did so largely tothe final surrender of Burgoyne's whole army at Saratoga, and the utterruin of the British invasion from the North. It is also interesting asan extremely gallant bit of fighting. As has been said, there was nostrategy displayed, and there were no military operations of the higherkind. There stood the enemy strongly intrenched on a hill, and Stark, calling his undisciplined levies about him, went at them. He himself wasa man of the highest courage and a reckless fighter. It was Stark whoheld the railfence at Bunker Hill, and who led the van when Sullivan'sdivision poured into Trenton from the river road. He was admirablyadapted for the precise work which was necessary at Bennington, and heand his men fought well their hand-to-hand fight on that hot August day, and carried the intrenchments filled with regular troops and defended byartillery. It was a daring feat of arms, as well as a battle which hadan important effect upon the course of history and upon the fate of theBritish empire in America. 

KING'S MOUNTAIN

 Our fortress is the good greenwood, Our tent the cypress tree; We know the forest round us As seamen know the sea. We know its walls of thorny vines, Its glades of reedy grass, Its safe and silent islands Within the dark morass. --Bryant. 

The close of the year 1780 was, in the Southern States, the darkest timeof the Revolutionary struggle. Cornwallis had just destroyed the army ofGates at Camden, and his two formidable lieutenants, Tarlton the lighthorseman, and Ferguson the skilled rifleman, had destroyed or scatteredall the smaller bands that had been fighting for the patriot cause. Thered dragoons rode hither and thither, and all through Georgia andSouth Carolina none dared lift their heads to oppose them, while NorthCarolina lay at the feet of Cornwallis, as he started through it withhis army to march into Virginia. There was no organized force againsthim, and the cause of the patriots seemed hopeless. It was at this hourthat the wild backwoodsmen of the western border gathered to strike ablow for liberty. 

When Cornwallis invaded North Carolina he sent Ferguson into the westernpart of the State to crush out any of the patriot forces that mightstill be lingering among the foot-hills. Ferguson was a very gallant andable officer, and a man of much influence with the people whereverhe went, so that he was peculiarly fitted for this scrambling borderwarfare. He had under him a battalion of regular troops and severalother battalions of Tory militia, in all eleven or twelve hundred men. He shattered and drove the small bands of Whigs that were yet in arms, and finally pushed to the foot of the mountain wall, till he could seein his front the high ranges of the Great Smokies. Here he learned forthe first time that beyond the mountains there lay a few hamlets offrontiersmen, whose homes were on what were then called the WesternWaters, that is, the waters which flowed into the Mississippi. To thesehe sent word that if they did not prove loyal to the king, he wouldcross their mountains, hang their leaders, and burn their villages. 

Beyond the, mountains, in the valleys of the Holston and Watauga, dweltmen who were stout of heart and mighty in battle, and when they heardthe threats of Ferguson they burned with a sullen flame of anger. Hitherto the foes against whom they had warred had been not the British, but the Indian allies of the British, Creek, and Cherokee, and Shawnee. Now that the army of the king had come to their thresholds, they turnedto meet it as fiercely as they had met his Indian allies. Among thebackwoodsmen of this region there were at that time three men of specialnote: Sevier, who afterward became governor of Tennessee; Shelby, whoafterward became governor of Kentucky; and Campbell, the Virginian, whodied in the Revolutionary War. Sevier had given a great barbecue, whereoxen and deer were roasted whole, while horseraces were run, and thebackwoodsmen tried their skill as marksmen and wrestlers. In the midstof the feasting Shelby appeared, hot with hard riding, to tell of theapproach of Ferguson and the British. Immediately the feasting wasstopped, and the feasters made ready for war. Sevier and Shelby sentword to Campbell to rouse the men of his own district and come withoutdelay, and they sent messengers to and fro in their own neighborhood tosummon the settlers from their log huts on the stump-dotted clearingsand the hunters from their smoky cabins in the deep woods. 

The meeting-place was at the Sycamore Shoals. On the appointed day thebackwoodsmen gathered sixteen hundred strong, each man carrying a longrifle, and mounted on a tough, shaggy horse. They were a wild and fiercepeople, accustomed to the chase and to warfare with the Indians. Theirhunting-shirts of buckskin or homespun were girded in by bead-workedbelts, and the trappings of their horses were stained red and yellow. At the gathering there was a black-frocked Presbyterian preacher, andbefore they started he addressed the tall riflemen in words of burningzeal, urging them to stand stoutly in the battle, and to smite with thesword of the Lord and of Gideon. Then the army started, the backwoodscolonels riding in front. Two or three days later, word was brought toFerguson that the Back-water men had come over the mountains; that theIndian-fighters of the frontier, leaving unguarded their homes on theWestern Waters, had crossed by wooded and precipitous defiles to thehelp of the beaten men of the plains. Ferguson at once fell back, sending out messengers for help. When he came to King's Mountain, a wooded, hog-back hill on the border line between North and SouthCarolina, he camped on its top, deeming that there he was safe, for hesupposed that before the backwoodsmen could come near enough to attackhim help would reach him. But the backwoods leaders felt as keenly ashe the need of haste, and choosing out nine hundred picked men, the bestwarriors of their force, and the best mounted and armed, they made along forced march to assail Ferguson before help could come to him. Allnight long they rode the dim forest trails and splashed across the fordsof the rushing rivers. All the next day, October 16, they rode, until inmid-afternoon, just as a heavy shower cleared away, they came in sightof King's Mountain. The little armies were about equal in numbers. Ferguson's regulars were armed with the bayonet, and so were some of hisTory militia, whereas the Americans had not a bayonet among them; butthey were picked men, confident in their skill as riflemen, and theywere so sure of victory that their aim was not only to defeat theBritish but to capture their whole force. The backwoods colonels, counseling together as they rode at the head of the column, decided tosurround the mountain and assail it on all sides. Accordingly the bandsof frontiersmen split one from the other, and soon circled the craggyhill where Ferguson's forces were encamped. They left their horses inthe rear and immediately began the battle, swarming forward on foot, their commanders leading the attack. 

The march had been so quick and the attack so sudden that Ferguson hadbarely time to marshal his men before the assault was made. Most ofhis militia he scattered around the top of the hill to fire down at theAmericans as they came up, while with his regulars and with a few pickedmilitia he charged with the bayonet in person, first down one side ofthe mountain and then down the other. Sevier, Shelby, Campbell, andthe other colonels of the frontiersmen, led each his force of riflemenstraight toward the summit. Each body in turn when charged by theregulars was forced to give way, for there were no bayonets wherewith tomeet the foe; but the backwoodsmen retreated only so long as the chargelasted, and the minute that it stopped they stopped too, and cameback ever closer to the ridge and ever with a deadlier fire. Ferguson, blowing a silver whistle as a signal to his men, led these charges, sword in hand, on horseback. At last, just as he was once again rallyinghis men, the riflemen of Sevier and Shelby crowned the top of the ridge. The gallant British commander became a fair target for the backwoodsmen, and as for the last time he led his men against them, seven bulletsentered his body and he fell dead. With his fall resistance ceased. The regulars and Tories huddled together in a confused mass, while theexultant Americans rushed forward. A flag of truce was hoisted, and allthe British who were not dead surrendered. 

The victory was complete, and the backwoodsmen at once started to returnto their log hamlets and rough, lonely farms. They could not stay, forthey dared not leave their homes at the mercy of the Indians. They hadrendered a great service; for Cornwallis, when he heard of the disasterto his trusted lieutenant, abandoned his march northward, and retired toSouth Carolina. When he again resumed the offensive, he found his pathbarred by stubborn General Greene and his troops of the Continentalline. 

THE STORMING OF STONY POINT

 In their ragged regimentals Stood the old Continentals, Yielding not, When the grenadiers were lunging, And like hail fell the plunging Cannon-shot; When the files Of the isles From the smoky night encampment bore the banner of the rampant Unicorn, And grummer, grummer, grummer, rolled the roll of the drummer, Through the morn!

 Then with eyes to the front all, And with guns horizontal, Stood our sires; And the balls whistled deadly, And in streams flashing redly Blazed the fires; As the roar On the shore Swept the strong battle-breakers o'er the green-sodded acres Of the plain; And louder, louder, louder cracked the black gunpowder, Cracked amain! --Guy Humphrey McMaster. 

One of the heroic figures of the Revolution was Anthony Wayne, Major-General of the Continental line. With the exception of Washington, and perhaps Greene, he was the best general the Americans developed inthe contest; and without exception he showed himself to be the hardestfighter produced on either side. He belongs, as regards this lattercharacteristic, with the men like Winfield Scott, Phil Kearney, Hancock, and Forrest, who reveled in the danger and the actual shock of arms. Indeed, his eager love of battle, and splendid disregard of peril, have made many writers forget his really great qualities as a general. Soldiers are always prompt to recognize the prime virtue of physicalcourage, and Wayne's followers christened their daring commander "MadAnthony, " in loving allusion to his reckless bravery. It is perfectlytrue that Wayne had this courage, and that he was a born fighter;otherwise, he never would have been a great commander. A man who lacksthe fondness for fighting, the eager desire to punish his adversary, and the willingness to suffer punishment in return, may be a greatorganizer, like McClellan, but can never become a great general or wingreat victories. There are, however, plenty of men who, though theypossess these fine manly traits, yet lack the head to command an army;but Wayne had not only the heart and the hand but the head likewise. No man could dare as greatly as he did without incurring the risk of anoccasional check; but he was an able and bold tactician, a vigilantand cautious leader, well fitted to bear the terrible burden ofresponsibility which rests upon a commander-in-chief. 

Of course, at times he had some rather severe lessons. Quite early inhis career, just after the battle of the Brandywine, when he was set towatch the enemy, he was surprised at night by the British general Grey, a redoubtable fighter, who attacked him with the bayonet, killed anumber of his men, and forced him to fall back some distance from thefield of action. This mortifying experience had no effect whatever onWayne's courage or self-reliance, but it did give him a valuable lessonin caution. He showed what he had learned by the skill with which, manyyears later, he conducted the famous campaign in which he overthrew theNorthwestern Indians at the Fight of the Fallen Timbers. 

Wayne's favorite weapon was the bayonet, and, like Scott he taught histroops, until they were able in the shock of hand-to-hand conflict tooverthrow the renowned British infantry, who have always justly pridedthemselves on their prowess with cold steel. At the battle of Germantownit was Wayne's troops who, falling on with the bayonet, drove theHessians and the British light infantry, and only retreated under orderswhen the attack had failed elsewhere. At Monmouth it was Wayne and hisContinentals who first checked the British advance by repulsing thebayonet charge of the guards and grenadiers. 

Washington, a true leader of men, was prompt to recognize in Wayne asoldier to whom could be intrusted any especially difficult enterprisewhich called for the exercise alike of intelligence and of cool daring. In the summer of 1780 he was very anxious to capture the British fort atStony Point, which commanded the Hudson. It was impracticable to attackit by regular siege while the British frigates lay in the river, and thedefenses ere so strong that open assault by daylight was equally out ofthe question. Accordingly Washington suggested to Wayne that he try anight attack. Wayne eagerly caught at the idea. It was exactly the kindof enterprise in which he delighted. The fort was on a rocky promontory, surrounded on three sides by water, and on the fourth by a neck of land, which was for the most part mere morass. It was across this neck ofland that any attacking column had to move. The garrison was six hundredstrong. To deliver the assault Wayne took nine hundred men. TheAmerican army was camped about fourteen miles from Stony Point. One Julyafternoon Wayne started, and led his troops in single file along thenarrow rocky roads, reaching the hills on the mainland near the fortafter nightfall. He divided his force into two columns, to advance onealong each side of the neck, detaching two companies of North Carolinatroops to move in between the two columns and make a false attack. The rest of the force consisted of New Englanders, Pennsylvanians, and Virginians. Each attacking column was divided into three parts, aforlorn hope of twenty men leading, which was followed by an advanceguard of one hundred and twenty, and then by the main body. At the timecommanding officers still carried spontoons, and other old-time weapons, and Wayne, who himself led the right column, directed its movementsspear in hand. It was nearly midnight when the Americans began to pressalong the causeways toward the fort. Before they were near the wallsthey were discovered, and the British opened a heavy fire of great gunsand musketry, to which the Carolinians, who were advancing between thetwo columns, responded in their turn, according to orders; but the menin the columns were forbidden to fire. Wayne had warned them that theirwork must be done with the bayonet, and their muskets were not evenloaded. Moreover, so strict was the discipline that no one was allowedto leave the ranks, and when one of the men did so an officer promptlyran him through the body. 

No sooner had the British opened fire than the charging columns brokeinto a run, and in a moment the forlorn hopes plunged into the abattisof fallen timber which the British had constructed just without thewalls. On the left, the forlorn hope was very roughly handled, no lessthan seventeen of the twenty men being either killed or wounded, but asthe columns came up both burst through the down timber and swarmed upthe long, sloping embankments of the fort. The British fought well, cheering loudly as their volley's rang, but the Americans would not bedenied, and pushed silently on to end the contest with the bayonet. Abullet struck Wayne in the head. He fell, but struggled to his feet andforward, two of his officers supporting him. A rumor went among themen that he was dead, but it only impelled them to charge home, morefiercely than ever. 

With a rush the troops swept to the top of the wall. A fierce butshort fight followed in the intense darkness, which was lit only by theflashes from the British muskets. The Americans did not fire, trustingsolely to the bayonet. The two columns had kept almost equal pace, andthey swept into the fort from opposite sides at the same moment. Thethree men who first got over the walls were all wounded, but one ofthem hauled down the British flag. The Americans had the advantagewhich always comes from delivering an attack that is thrust home. Theirmuskets were unloaded and they could not hesitate; so, running boldlyinto close quarters, they fought hand to hand with their foes andspeedily overthrew them. For a moment the bayonets flashed and played;then the British lines broke as their assailants thronged against them, and the struggle was over. The Americans had lost a hundred in killedand wounded. Of the British sixty-three had been slain and very manywounded, every one of the dead or disabled having suffered from thebayonet. A curious coincidence was that the number of the dead happenedto be exactly equal to the number of Wayne's men who had been killed inthe night attack by the English general, Grey. 

There was great rejoicing among the Americans over the successful issueof the attack. Wayne speedily recovered from his wound, and in the joyof his victory it weighed but slightly. He had performed a most notablefeat. No night attack of the kind was ever delivered with greaterboldness, skill, and success. When the Revolutionary War broke out theAmerican armies were composed merely of armed yeomen, stalwart men, of good courage, and fairly proficient in the use of their weapons, butentirely without the training which alone could enable them to withstandthe attack of the British regulars in the open, or to deliver an attackthemselves. Washington's victory at Trenton was the first encounterwhich showed that the Americans were to be feared when they took theoffensive. With the exception of the battle of Trenton, and perhaps ofGreene's fight at Eutaw Springs, Wayne's feat was the most successfulillustration of daring and victorious attack by an American army thatoccurred during the war; and, unlike Greene, who was only able to fighta drawn battle, Wayne's triumph was complete. At Monmouth he had shown, as he afterward showed against Cornwallis, that his troops could meetthe renowned British regulars on even terms in the open. At Stony Pointhe showed that he could lead them to a triumphant assault with thebayonet against regulars who held a fortified place of strength. NoAmerican commander has ever displayed greater energy and daring, amore resolute courage, or readier resource, than the chief of thehard-fighting Revolutionary generals, Mad Anthony Wayne. 

GOUVERNEUR MORRIS

GOUVERNEUR MORRIS. PARIS. AUGUST 10, 1792. 

 Justum et tenacem propositi virum Non civium ardor prava jubentium, Non vultus instantis tyranni Mente quatit solida, neque Auster Dux inquieti turbidus Hadriae, Nec fulminantis magna manus Jovis: Si fractus illabatur orbis, Impavidum ferient ruinae. --Hor. , Lib. III. Carm. III. 

The 10th of August, 1792, was one of the most memorable days of theFrench Revolution. It was the day on which the French monarchy receivedits death-blow, and was accompanied by fighting and bloodshed whichfilled Paris with terror. In the morning before daybreak the tocsin hadsounded, and not long after the mob of Paris, headed by the Marseillais, "Six hundred men not afraid to die, " who had been summoned there byBarbaroux, were marching upon the Tuileries. The king, or rather thequeen, had at last determined to make a stand and to defend the throne. The Swiss Guards were there at the palace, well posted to protect theinner court; and there, too, were the National Guards, who were expectedto uphold the government and guard the king. The tide of people pouredon through the streets, gathering strength as they went the Marseillais, the armed bands, the Sections, and a vast floating mob. The crowd drewnearer and nearer, but the squadrons of the National Guards, who were tocheck the advance, did not stir. It is not apparent, indeed, that theymade any resistance, and the king and his family at eight o'clock lostheart and deserted the Tuileries, to take refuge with the NationalConvention. The multitude then passed into the court of the Carrousel, unchecked by the National Guards, and were face to face with the Swiss. Deserted by their king, the Swiss knew not how to act, but still stoodtheir ground. There was some parleying, and at last the Marseillaisfired a cannon. Then the Swiss fired. They were disciplined troops, and their fire was effective. There was a heavy slaughter and themob recoiled, leaving their cannon, which the Swiss seized. TheRevolutionists, however, returned to the charge, and the fight raged onboth sides, the Swiss holding their ground firmly. 

Suddenly, from the legislative hall, came an order from the king tothe Swiss to cease firing. It was their death warrant. Paralyzed bythe order, they knew not what to do. The mob poured in, and most of thegallant Swiss were slaughtered where they stood. Others escaped from theTuileries only to meet their death in the street. The palace was sackedand the raging mob was in possession of the city. No man's life wassafe, least of all those who were known to be friends of the king, whowere nobles, or who had any connection with the court. Some of thesepeople whose lives were thus in peril at the hands of the bloodstainedand furious mob had been the allies of the United States, and had foughtunder Washington in the war for American independence. In their anguishand distress their thoughts recurred to the country which they hadserved in its hour of trial, three thousand miles away. They sought thelegation of the United States and turned to the American minister forprotection. 

Such an exercise of humanity at that moment was not a duty that any mancraved. In those terrible days in Paris, the representatives of foreigngovernments were hardly safer than any one else. Many of the ambassadorsand ministers had already left the country, and others were even thenabandoning their posts, which it seemed impossible to hold at such atime. But the American minister stood his ground. Gouverneur Morriswas not a man to shrink from what he knew to be his duty. He had beena leading patriot in our revolution; he had served in the ContinentalCongress, and with Robert Morris in the difficult work of the Treasury, when all our resources seemed to be at their lowest ebb. In 1788 he hadgone abroad on private business, and had been much in Paris, wherehe had witnessed the beginning of the French Revolution and had beenconsulted by men on both sides. In 1790, by Washington's direction, hehad gone to London and had consulted the ministry there as to whetherthey would receive an American minister. Thence he had returned toParis, and at the beginning Of 1792 Washington appointed him minister ofthe United States to France. 

As an American, Morris's sympathies had run strongly in favor of themovement to relieve France from the despotism under which she wassinking, and to give her a better and more liberal government. But, as the Revolution progressed, he became outraged and disgusted bythe methods employed. He felt a profound contempt for both sides. Theinability of those who were conducting the Revolution to carry outintelligent plans or maintain order, and the feebleness of the king andhis advisers, were alike odious to the man with American conceptionsof ordered liberty. He was especially revolted by the bloodshed andcruelty, constantly gathering in strength, which were displayed bythe revolutionists, and he had gone to the very verge of diplomaticpropriety in advising the ministers of the king in regard to thepolicies to be pursued, and, as he foresaw what was coming, in urgingthe king himself to leave France. All his efforts and all his advice, like those of other intelligent men who kept their heads during thewhirl of the Revolution, were alike vain. 

On August 10 the gathering storm broke with full force, and the populacerose in arms to sweep away the tottering throne. Then it was that thesepeople, fleeing for their lives, came to the representative of thecountry for which many of them had fought, and on both public andprivate grounds besought the protection of the American minister. Let metell what happened in the words of an eye-witness, an American gentlemanwho was in Paris at that time, and who published the following accountof his experiences:

On the ever memorable 10th of August, after viewing the destruction ofthe Royal Swiss Guards and the dispersion of the Paris militia by a bandof foreign and native incendiaries, the writer thought it his dutyto visit the Minister, who had not been out of his hotel since theinsurrection began, and, as was to be expected, would be anxious tolearn what was passing without doors. He was surrounded by the old Countd'Estaing, and about a dozen other persons of distinction, of differentsexes, who had, from their connection with the United States, been hismost intimate acquaintances at Paris, and who had taken refuge withhim for protection from the bloodhounds which, in the forms of men andwomen, were prowling in the streets at the time. All was silence here, except that silence was occasionally interrupted by the crying ofthe women and children. As I retired, the Minister took me aside, andobserved: "I have no doubt, sir, but there are persons on the watch whowould find fault with my conduct as Minister in receiving and protectingthese people, but I call on you to witness the declaration which I nowmake, and that is that they were not invited to my house, but came oftheir own accord. Whether my house will be a protection to them or tome, God only knows, but I will not turn them out of it, let what willhappen to me, " to which he added, "you see, sir, they are all persons towhom our country is more or less indebted, and it would be inhuman toforce them into the hands of the assassins, had they no such claimupon me. "

Nothing can be added to this simple account, and no American can readit or repeat the words of Mr. Morris without feeling even now, a hundredyears after the event, a glow of pride that such words were uttered atsuch a time by the man who represented the United States. 

After August 10, when matters in Paris became still worse, Mr. Morrisstill stayed at his post. Let me give, in his own words, what he did andhis reasons for it:

The different ambassadors and ministers are all taking their flight, and if I stay I shall be alone. I mean, however, to stay, unlesscircumstances should command me away, because, in the admitted case thatmy letters of credence are to the monarchy, and not to the Republic ofFrance, it becomes a matter of indifference whether I remain in thiscountry or go to England during the time which may be needful to obtainyour orders, or to produce a settlement of affairs here. Going hence, however, would look like taking part against the late Revolution, and Iam not only unauthorized in this respect, but I am bound to suppose thatif the great majority of the nation adhere to the new form, the UnitedStates will approve thereof; because, in the first place, we have noright to prescribe to this country the government they shall adopt, and next, because the basis of our own Constitution is the indefeasibleright of the people to establish it. 

Among those who are leaving Paris is the Venetian ambassador. He wasfurnished with passports from the Office of Foreign Affairs, but hewas, nevertheless, stopped at the barrier, was conducted to the Hotelde Ville, was there questioned for hours, and his carriages examined andsearched. This violation of the rights of ambassadors could not fail, asyou may suppose, to make an impression. It has been broadly hinted to methat the honor of my country and my own require that I should go away. But I am of a different opinion, and rather think that those who givesuch hints are somewhat influenced by fear. It is true that the positionis not without danger, but I presume that when the President did me thehonor of naming me to this embassy, it was not for my personal pleasureor safety, but to promote the interests of my country. These, therefore, I shall continue to pursue to the best of my judgment, and as toconsequences, they are in the hand of God. 

He remained there until his successor arrived. When all others fled, hewas faithful, and such conduct should never be forgotten. Mr. Morrisnot only risked his life, but he took a heavy responsibility, and laidhimself open to severe attack for having protected defenseless peopleagainst the assaults of the mob. But his courageous humanity issomething which should ever be remembered, and ought always to becharacteristic of the men who represent the United States in foreigncountries. When we recall the French Revolution, it is cheering to thinkof that fearless figure of the American minister, standing firm and calmin the midst of those awful scenes, with sacked palaces, slaughteredsoldiers, and a bloodstained mob about him, regardless of danger tohimself, determined to do his duty to his country, and to those to whomhis country was indebted. 

THE BURNING OF THE "PHILADELPHIA"

 And say besides, that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, I took by the throat the circumcised dog And smote him, thus. --Othello. 

It is difficult to conceive that there ever was a time when the UnitedStates paid a money tribute to anybody. It is even more difficult toimagine the United States paying blackmail to a set of small piraticaltribes on the coast of Africa. Yet this is precisely what we once didwith the Barbary powers, as they were called the States of Morocco, Tunis, Tripoli, and Algiers, lying along the northern coast of Africa. The only excuse to be made for such action was that we merely followedthe example of Christendom. The civilized people of the world were thenin the habit of paying sums of money to these miserable pirates, in order to secure immunity for their merchant vessels in theMediterranean. For this purpose Congress appropriated money, andtreaties were made by the President and ratified by the Senate. On oneoccasion, at least, Congress actually revoked the authorization of somenew ships for the navy, and appropriated more money than was requiredto build the men-of-war in order to buy off the Barbary powers. The fundfor this disgraceful purpose was known as the "Mediterranean fund, " andwas intrusted to the Secretary of State to be disbursed by him in hisdiscretion. After we had our brush with France, however, in 1798, andafter Truxtun's brilliant victory over the French frigate L'Insurgentein the following year, it occurred to our government that perhapsthere was a more direct as well as a more manly way of dealing with theBarbary pirates than by feebly paying them tribute, and in 1801 a smallsquadron, under Commodore Dale, proceeded to the Mediterranean. 

At the same time events occurred which showed strikingly the absurdityas well as the weakness of this policy of paying blackmail to pirates. The Bashaw of Tripoli, complaining that we had given more money tosome of the Algerian ministers than we had to him, and also that we hadpresented Algiers with a frigate, declared war upon us, and cut down theflag-staff in front of the residence of the American consul. At the sametime, and for the same reason, Morocco and Tunis began to grumble at thetreatment which they had received. The fact was that, with nations aswith individuals, when the payment of blackmail is once begun there isno end to it. The appearance, however, of our little squadron in theMediterranean showed at once the superiority of a policy of force overone of cowardly submission. Morocco and Tunis immediately stopped theirgrumbling and came to terms with the United States, and this left usfree to deal with Tripoli. 

Commodore Dale had sailed before the declaration of war by Tripoli wasknown, and he was therefore hampered by his orders, which permittedhim only to protect our commerce, and which forbade actual hostilities. Nevertheless, even under these limited orders, the Enterprise, oftwelve guns, commanded by Lieutenant Sterrett, fought an action with theTripolitan ship Tripoli, of fourteen guns. The engagement lasted threehours, when the Tripoli struck, having lost her mizzenmast, and withtwenty of her crew killed and thirty wounded. Sterrett, having no ordersto make captures, threw all the guns and ammunition of the Tripolioverboard, cut away her remaining masts, and left her with only one sparand a single sail to drift back to Tripoli, as a hint to the Bashaw ofthe new American policy. 

In 1803 the command of our fleet in the Mediterranean was taken byCommodore Preble, who had just succeeded in forcing satisfactionfrom Morocco for an attack made upon our merchantmen by a vessel fromTangier. He also proclaimed a blockade of Tripoli and was preparingto enforce it when the news reached him that the frigate Philadelphia, forty-four guns, commanded by Captain Bainbridge, and one of the bestships in our navy, had gone upon a reef in the harbor of Tripoli, whilepursuing a vessel there, and had been surrounded and captured, with allher crew, by the Tripolitan gunboats, when she was entirely helplesseither to fight or sail. This was a very serious blow to our navy and toour operations against Tripoli. It not only weakened our forces, but itwas also a great help to the enemy. The Tripolitans got the Philadelphiaoff the rocks, towed her into the harbor, and anchored her close underthe guns of their forts. They also replaced her batteries, and preparedto make her ready for sea, where she would have been a most formidabledanger to our shipping. 

Under these circumstances Stephen Decatur, a young lieutenant in commandof the Enterprise, offered to Commodore Preble to go into the harbor anddestroy the Philadelphia. Some delay ensued, as our squadron was drivenby severe gales from the Tripolitan coast; but at last, in January, 1804, Preble gave orders to Decatur to undertake the work for whichhe had volunteered. A small vessel known as a ketch had been recentlycaptured from the Tripolitans by Decatur, and this prize was now namedthe Intrepid, and assigned to him for the work he had in hand. He tookseventy men from his own ship, the Enterprise, and put them on theIntrepid, and then, accompanied by Lieutenant Stewart in the Siren, whowas to support him, he set sail for Tripoli. He and his crew were verymuch cramped as well as badly fed on the little vessel which had beengiven to them, but they succeeded, nevertheless, in reaching Tripoli insafety, accompanied by the Siren. 

For nearly a week they were unable to approach the harbor, owing tosevere gales which threatened the loss of their vessel; but on February16 the weather moderated and Decatur determined to go in. It is well torecall, briefly, the extreme peril of the attack which he was about tomake. The Philadelphia, with forty guns mounted, double-shotted, andready for firing, and manned by a full complement of men, was mooredwithin half a gunshot of the Bashaw's castle, the mole and crownbatteries, and within range of ten other batteries, mounting, altogether, one hundred and fifteen guns. Some Tripolitan cruisers, twogalleys, and nineteen gunboats also lay between the Philadelphia and theshore. Into the midst of this powerful armament Decatur had to go withhis little vessel of sixty tons, carrying four small guns and having acrew of seventy-five men. 

The Americans, however, were entirely undismayed by the odds againstthem, and at seven o'clock Decatur went into the harbor between thereef and shoal which formed its mouth. He steered on steadily toward thePhiladelphia, the breeze getting constantly lighter, and by half-pastnine was within two hundred yards of the frigate. As they approachedDecatur stood at the helm with the pilot, only two or three men showingon deck and the rest of the crew lying hidden under the bulwarks. Inthis way he drifted to within nearly twenty yards of the Philadelphia. The suspicions of the Tripolitans, however, were not aroused, and whenthey hailed the Intrepid, the pilot answered that they had lost theiranchors in a gale, and asked that they might run a warp to the frigateand ride by her. While the talk went on the Intrepid's boat shoved offwith the rope, and pulling to the fore-chains of the Philadelphia, madethe line fast. A few of the crew then began to haul on the lines, andthus the Intrepid was drawn gradually toward the frigate. 

The suspicions of the Tripolitans were now at last awakened. They raisedthe cry of "Americanos!" and ordered off the Intrepid, but it was toolate. As the vessels came in contact, Decatur sprang up the main chainsof the Philadelphia, calling out the order to board. He was rapidlyfollowed by his officers and men, and as they swarmed over the rails andcame upon the deck, the Tripolitan crew gathered, panic-stricken, in aconfused mass on the forecastle. Decatur waited a moment until his menwere behind him, and then, placing himself at their head, drew his swordand rushed upon the Tripolitans. There was a very short struggle, andthe Tripolitans, crowded together, terrified and surprised, were cutdown or driven overboard. In five minutes the ship was cleared of theenemy. 

Decatur would have liked to have taken the Philadelphia out of theharbor, but that was impossible. He therefore gave orders to burn theship, and his men, who had been thoroughly instructed in what they wereto do, dispersed into all parts of the frigate with the combustibleswhich had been prepared, and in a few minutes, so well and quickly wasthe work done, the flames broke out in all parts of the Philadelphia. Assoon as this was effected the order was given to return to the Intrepid. Without confusion the men obeyed. It was a moment of great danger, forfire was breaking out on all sides, and the Intrepid herself, filledas she was with powder and combustibles, was in great peril of suddendestruction. The rapidity of Decatur's movements, however, savedeverything. The cables were cut, the sweeps got out, and the Intrepiddrew rapidly away from the burning frigate. It was a magnificentsight as the flames burst out over the Philadephia and ran rapidly andfiercely up the masts and rigging. As her guns became heated they weredischarged, one battery pouring its shots into the town. Finally thecables parted, and then the Philadelphia, a mass of flames, driftedacross the harbor, and blew up. Meantime the batteries of the shippingand the castle had been turned upon the Intrepid, but although theshot struck all around her, she escaped successfully with only one shotthrough her mainsail, and, joining the Siren, bore away. 

This successful attack was carried through by the cool courage ofDecatur and the admirable discipline of his men. The hazard was verygreat, the odds were very heavy, and everything depended on the nervewith which the attack was made and the completeness of the surprise. Nothing miscarried, and no success could have been more complete. Nelson, at that time in the Mediterranean, and the best judge of a navalexploit as well as the greatest naval commander who has ever lived, pronounced it "the most bold and daring act of the age. " We meet nosingle feat exactly like it in our own naval history, brilliant as thathas been, until we come to Cushing's destruction of the Albemarle inthe war of the rebellion. In the years that have elapsed, and among thegreat events that have occurred since that time, Decatur's burning ofthe Philadephia has been well-nigh forgotten; but it is one of thosefeats of arms which illustrate the high courage of American seamen, andwhich ought always to be remembered. 

THE CRUISE OF THE "WASP"

 A crash as when some swollen cloud Cracks o'er the tangled trees! With side to side, and spar to spar, Whose smoking decks are these? I know St. George's blood-red cross, Thou mistress of the seas, But what is she whose streaming bars Roll out before the breeze?

 Ah, well her iron ribs are knit, Whose thunders strive to quell The bellowing throats, the blazing lips, That pealed the Armada's knell! The mist was cleared, --a wreath of stars Rose o'er the crimsoned swell, And, wavering from its haughty peak, The cross of England fell! --Holmes. 

In the war of 1812 the little American navy, including only a dozenfrigates and sloops of war, won a series of victories against theEnglish, the hitherto undoubted masters of the sea, that attracted anattention altogether out of proportion to the force of the combatantsor the actual damage done. For one hundred and fifty years the Englishships of war had failed to find fit rivals in those of any otherEuropean power, although they had been matched against each in turn; andwhen the unknown navy of the new nation growing up across the Atlanticdid what no European navy had ever been able to do, not only the Englishand Americans, but the people of Continental Europe as well, regardedthe feat as important out of all proportion to the material aspects ofthe case. The Americans first proved that the English could be beatenat their own game on the sea. They did what the huge fleets of France, Spain, and Holland had failed to do, and the great modern writerson naval warfare in Continental Europe--men like Jurien de laGraviere--have paid the same attention to these contests of frigates andsloops that they give to whole fleet actions of other wars. 

Among the famous ships of the Americans in this war were two named theWasp. The first was an eighteen-gun ship-sloop, which at the veryoutset of the war captured a British brig-sloop of twenty guns, afteran engagement in which the British fought with great gallantry, but wereknocked to Pieces, while the Americans escaped comparatively unscathed. Immediately afterward a British seventy-four captured the victor. Inmemory of her the Americans gave the same name to one of the new sloopsthey were building. These sloops were stoutly made, speedy vessels whichin strength and swiftness compared favorably with any ships of theirclass in any other navy of the day, for the American shipwrights werealready as famous as the American gunners and seamen. The new Wasp, likeher sister ships, carried twenty-two guns and a crew of one hundredand seventy men, and was ship-rigged. Twenty of her guns were 32-poundcarronades, while for bow-chasers she had two "long Toms. " It was inthe year 1814 that the Wasp sailed from the United States to prey on thenavy and commerce of Great Britain. Her commander was a gallant SouthCarolinian named Captain Johnson Blakeley. Her crew were nearly allnative Americans, and were an exceptionally fine set of men. Instead ofstaying near the American coasts or of sailing the high seas, the Waspat once headed boldly for the English Channel, to carry the war to thevery doors of the enemy. 

At that time the English fleets had destroyed the navies of every otherpower of Europe, and had obtained such complete supremacy over theFrench that the French fleets were kept in port. Off these ports lay thegreat squadrons of the English ships of the line, never, in gale orin calm, relaxing their watch upon the rival war-ships of the Frenchemperor. So close was the blockade of the French ports, and so hopelesswere the French of making headway in battle with their antagonists, that not only the great French three-deckers and two-deckers, but theirfrigates and sloops as well, lay harmless in their harbors, and theEnglish ships patroled the seas unchecked in every direction. A fewFrench privateers still slipped out now and then, and the far bolder andmore formidable American privateersmen drove hither and thither acrossthe ocean in their swift schooners and brigantines, and harried theEnglish commerce without mercy. 

The Wasp proceeded at once to cruise in the English Channel and offthe coasts of England, France, and Spain. Here the water was traversedcontinually by English fleets and squadrons and single ships of war, which were sometimes covoying detachments of troops for Wellington'sPeninsular army, sometimes guarding fleets of merchant vessels boundhomeward, and sometimes merely cruising for foes. It was this spot, right in the teeth of the British naval power, that the Wasp chose forher cruising ground. Hither and thither she sailed through the narrowseas, capturing and destroying the merchantmen, and by the seamanshipof her crew and the skill and vigilance of her commander, escaping thepursuit of frigate and ship of the line. Before she had been long on theground, one June morning, while in chase of a couple of merchant ships, she spied a sloop of war, the British brig Reindeer, of eighteen gunsand a hundred and twenty men. The Reindeer was a weaker ship than theWasp, her guns were lighter, and her men fewer; but her commander, Captain Manners, was one of the most gallant men in the splendid Britishnavy, and he promptly took up the gage of battle which the Wasp threwdown. 

The day was calm and nearly still; only a light wind stirred across thesea. At one o'clock the Wasp's drum beat to quarters, and the sailorsand marines gathered at their appointed posts. The drum of the Reindeerresponded to the challenge, and with her sails reduced to fighting trim, her guns run out, and every man ready, she came down upon the Yankeeship. On her forecastle she had rigged a light carronade, and coming upfrom behind, she five times discharged this pointblank into the Americansloop; then in the light air the latter luffed round, firing her gunsas they bore, and the two ships engaged yard-arm to yard-arm. The gunsleaped and thundered as the grimy gunners hurled them out to fire andback again to load, working like demons. For a few minutes the cannonadewas tremendous, and the men in the tops could hardly see the decks forthe wreck of flying splinters. Then the vessels ground together, andthrough the open ports the rival gunners hewed, hacked, and thrust atone another, while the black smoke curled up from between the hulls. TheEnglish were suffering terribly. Captain Manners himself was wounded, and realizing that he was doomed to defeat unless by some desperateeffort he could avert it, he gave the signal to board. At the call theboarders gathered, naked to the waist, black with powder and spatteredwith blood, cutlas and pistol in hand. But the Americans were ready. Their marines were drawn up on deck, the pikemen stood behind thebulwarks, and the officers watched, cool and alert, every movement ofthe foe. Then the British sea-dogs tumbled aboard, only to perish byshot or steel. The combatants slashed and stabbed with savage fury, andthe assailants were driven back. Manners sprang to their head to leadthem again himself, when a ball fired by one of the sailors in theAmerican tops crashed through his skull, and he fell, sword in hand, with his face to the foe, dying as honorable a death as ever a brave mandied in fighting against odds for the flag of his country. As he fellthe American officers passed the word to board. With wild cheers thefighting sailormen sprang forward, sweeping the wreck of the Britishforce before them, and in a minute the Reindeer was in their possession. All of her officers, and nearly two thirds of the crew, were killed orwounded; but they had proved themselves as skilful as they were brave, and twenty-six of the Americans had been killed or wounded. 

The Wasp set fire to her prize, and after retiring to a French port torefit, came out again to cruise. For some time she met no antagonistof her own size with which to wage war, and she had to exercise thesharpest vigilance to escape capture. Late one September afternoon, whenshe could see ships of war all around her, she selected one which wasisolated from the others, and decided to run alongside her and try tosink her after nightfall. Accordingly she set her sails in pursuit, anddrew steadily toward her antagonist, a big eighteen-gun brig, the Avon, a ship more powerful than the Reindeer. The Avon kept signaling to twoother British war vessels which were in sight--one an eighteen-gun brigand the other a twenty-gun ship; they were so close that the Waspwas afraid they would interfere before the combat could be ended. Nevertheless, Blakeley persevered, and made his attack with equal skilland daring. It was after dark when he ran alongside his opponent, and they began forthwith to exchange furious broadsides. As the shipsplunged and wallowed in the seas, the Americans could see the clustersof topmen in the rigging of their opponent, but they knew nothing ofthe vessel's name or of her force, save only so far as they felt it. Thefiring was fast and furious, but the British shot with bad aim, whilethe skilled American gunners hulled their opponent at almost everydischarge. In a very few minutes the Avon was in a sinking condition, and she struck her flag and cried for quarter, having lost forty orfifty men, while but three of the Americans had fallen. Before the Waspcould take possession of her opponent, however, the two war vesselsto which the Avon had been signaling came up. One of them fired at theWasp, and as the latter could not fight two new foes, she ran off easilybefore the wind. Neither of her new antagonists followed her, devotingthemselves to picking up the crew of the sinking Avon. 

 It would be hard to find a braver feat more skilfully performedthan this; for Captain Blakeley, with hostile foes all round him, hadclosed with and sunk one antagonist not greatly his inferior in force, suffering hardly any loss himself, while two of her friends were comingto her help. 

Both before and after this the Wasp cruised hither and thither makingprizes. Once she came across a convoy of ships bearing arms andmunitions to Wellington's army, under the care of a great two-decker. Hovering about, the swift sloop evaded the two-decker's movements, andactually cut out and captured one of the transports she was guarding, making her escape unharmed. Then she sailed for the high seas. She madeseveral other prizes, and on October 9 spoke a Swedish brig. 

This was the last that was ever heard of the gallant Wasp. She neveragain appeared, and no trace of any of those aboard her was ever found. Whether she was wrecked on some desert coast, whether she founderedin some furious gale, or what befell her none ever knew. All that iscertain is that she perished, and that all on board her met death insome one of the myriad forms in which it must always be faced by thosewho go down to the sea in ships; and when she sank there sank one of themost gallant ships of the American navy, with as brave a captain andcrew as ever sailed from any port of the New World. 

THE "GENERAL ARMSTRONG" PRIVATEER

 We have fought such a fight for a day and a night As may never be fought again! We have won great glory, my men! And a day less or more At sea or ashore, We die--does it matter when? --Tennyson. 

In the revolution, and again in the war of 1812, the seas were coveredby swift-sailing American privateers, which preyed on the Britishtrade. The hardy seamen of the New England coast, and of New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore, turned readily from their adventurouscareers in the whalers that followed the giants of the ocean in everysea and every clime, and from trading voyages to the uttermost partsof the earth, to go into the business of privateering, which was moreremunerative, and not so very much more dangerous, than their ordinarypursuits. By the end of the war of 1812, in particular, the Americanprivateers had won for themselves a formidable position on the ocean. The schooners, brigs, and brigantines in which the privateersmen sailedwere beautifully modeled, and were among the fastest craft afloat. Theywere usually armed with one heavy gun, the "long Tom, " as it was called, arranged on a pivot forward or amidships, and with a few lighter piecesof cannon. They carried strong crews of well-armed men, and theircommanders were veteran seamen, used to brave every danger from theelements or from man. So boldly did they prey on the British commerce, that they infested even the Irish Sea and the British Channel, andincreased many times the rate of insurance on vessels passing acrossthose waters. They also often did battle with the regular men-of-war ofthe British, being favorite objects for attack by cutting-out partiesfrom the British frigates and ships of the line, and also frequentlyencountering in fight the smaller sloops-of-war. Usually, in thesecontests, the privateersmen were worsted, for they had not the trainingwhich is obtained only in a regular service, and they were in no way tobe compared to the little fleet of regular vessels which in this samewar so gloriously upheld the honor of the American flag. Nevertheless, here and there a privateer commanded by an exceptionally brave and ablecaptain, and manned by an unusually well-trained crew, performed somefeat of arms which deserves to rank with anything ever performed by theregular navy. Such a feat was the defense of the brig General Armstrong, in the Portuguese port of Fayal, of the Azores, against an overwhelmingBritish force. 

The General Armstrong hailed from New York, and her captain was namedReid. She had a crew of ninety men, and was armed with one heavy 32pounder and six lighter guns. In December, 1814, she was lying in Fayal, a neutral port, when four British war-vessels, a ship of the line, afrigate and two brigs, hove into sight, and anchored off the mouth ofthe harbor. The port was neutral, but Portugal was friendly to England, and Reid knew well that the British would pay no respect to theneutrality laws if they thought that at the cost of their violation theycould destroy the privateer. He immediately made every preparation toresist an attack, The privateer was anchored close to the shore. Theboarding-nettings were got ready, and were stretched to booms thrustoutward from the brig's side, so as to check the boarders as they triedto climb over the bulwarks. The guns were loaded and cast loose, and themen went to quarters armed with muskets, boarding-pikes, and cutlases. 

On their side the British made ready to carry the privateer by boarding. The shoals rendered it impossible for the heavy ships to approach, and the lack of wind and the baffling currents also interfered for themoment with the movements of the sloops-of-war. Accordingly recourse washad to a cutting-out party, always a favorite device with the Britishseamen of that age, who were accustomed to carry French frigates byboarding, and to capture in their boats the heavy privateers and armedmerchantmen, as well as the lighter war-vessels of France and Spain. 

The British first attempted to get possession of the brig by surprise, sending out but four boats. These worked down near to the brig, underpretense of sounding, trying to get close enough to make a rush andboard her. The privateersmen were on their guard, and warned the boatsoff, and after the warning had been repeated once or twice unheeded, they fired into them, killing and wounding several men. Upon this theboats promptly returned to the ships. 

This first check greatly irritated the British captains, and theydecided to repeat the experiment that night with a force which wouldrender resistance vain. Accordingly, after it became dark, a dozenboats were sent from the liner and the frigate, manned by four hundredstalwart British seamen, and commanded by the captain of one of thebrigs of war. Through the night they rowed straight toward the littleprivateer lying dark and motionless in the gloom. As before, theprivateersmen were ready for their foe, and when they came within rangeopened fire upon them, first with the long gun and then with the lightercannon; but the British rowed on with steady strokes, for they wereseamen accustomed to victory over every European foe, and danger had noterrors for them. With fierce hurrahs they dashed through the shot-rivensmoke and grappled the brig; and the boarders rose, cutlas in hand, ready to spring over the bulwarks. A terrible struggle followed. TheBritish hacked at the boarding-nets and strove to force their waythrough to the decks of the privateer, while the Americans stabbedthe assailants with their long pikes and slashed at them with theircutlases. The darkness was lit by the flashes of flame from the musketsand the cannon, and the air was rent by the oaths and shouts of thecombatants, the heavy trampling on the decks, the groans of the wounded, the din of weapon meeting weapon, and all the savage tumult ofa hand-to-hand fight. At the bow the British burst through theboarding-netting, and forced their way to the deck, killing or woundingall three of the lieutenants of the privateer; but when this hadhappened the boats had elsewhere been beaten back, and Reid, rallyinghis grim sea-dogs, led them forward with a rush, and the boarding partywere all killed or tumbled into the sea. This put an end to the fight. In some of the boats none but killed and wounded men were left. Theothers drew slowly off, like crippled wild-fowl, and disappeared in thedarkness toward the British squadron. Half of the attacking force hadbeen killed or wounded, while of the Americans but nine had fallen. 

The British commodore and all his officers were maddened with anger andshame over the repulse, and were bent upon destroying the privateerat all costs. Next day, after much exertion, one of the war-brigs waswarped into position to attack the American, but she first took herstation at long range, so that her carronades were not as effective asthe pivot gun of the privateer; and so well was the latter handled, thatthe British brig was repeatedly hulled, and finally was actually drivenoff. A second attempt was made, however, and this time the sloop-of-wargot so close that she could use her heavy carronades, which put theprivateer completely at her mercy. Then Captain Reid abandoned his brigand sank her, first carrying ashore the guns, and marched inland withhis men. They were not further molested; and, if they had lost theirbrig, they had at least made their foes pay dear for her destruction, for the British had lost twice as many men as there were in the wholehard-fighting crew of the American privateer. 

THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS

 The heavy fog of morning Still hid the plain from sight, When came a thread of scarlet Marked faintly in the white. We fired a single cannon, And as its thunders rolled, The mist before us lifted In many a heavy fold. The mist before us lifted, And in their bravery fine Came rushing to their ruin The fearless British line. --Thomas Dunn English. 

When, in 1814, Napoleon was overthrown and forced to retire to Elba, theBritish troops that had followed Wellington into southern Francewere left free for use against the Americans. A great expedition wasorganized to attack and capture New Orleans, and at its head was placedGeneral Pakenham, the brilliant commander of the column that deliveredthe fatal blow at Salamanca. In December a fleet of British war-shipsand transports, carrying thousands of victorious veterans from thePeninsula, and manned by sailors who had grown old in a quarter of acentury's triumphant ocean warfare, anchored off the broad lagoons ofthe Mississippi delta. The few American gunboats were carried after adesperate hand-to-hand struggle, the troops were landed, and on December23 the advance-guard of two thousand men reached the banks of theMississippi, but ten miles below New Orleans, and there camped for thenight. It seemed as if nothing could save the Creole City from foes whohad shown, in the storming of many a Spanish walled town, that they wereas ruthless in victory as they were terrible in battle. There wereno forts to protect the place, and the militia were ill armed and illtrained. But the hour found the man. On the afternoon of the very daywhen the British reached the banks of the river the vanguard of AndrewJackson's Tennesseeans marched into New Orleans. Clad in hunting-shirtsof buckskin or homespun, wearing wolfskin and coonskin caps, andcarrying their long rifles on their shoulders, the wild soldiery of thebackwoods tramped into the little French town. They were tall men, withsinewy frames and piercing eyes. Under "Old Hickory's" lead they hadwon the bloody battle of the Horseshoe Bend against the Creeks; theyhad driven the Spaniards from Pensacola; and now they were eager to pitthemselves against the most renowned troops of all Europe. 

Jackson acted with his usual fiery, hasty decision. It was absolutelynecessary to get time in which to throw up some kind of breastworks ordefenses for the city, and he at once resolved on a night attack againstthe British. As for the British, they had no thought of being molested. They did not dream of an assault from inferior numbers of undisciplinedand ill-armed militia, who did not possess so much as bayonets to theirguns. They kindled fires along the levees, ate their supper, and then, as the evening fell, noticed a big schooner drop down the river inghostly silence and bring up opposite to them. The soldiers flocked tothe shore, challenging the stranger, and finally fired one or two shotsat her. Then suddenly a rough voice was heard, "Now give it to them, for the honor of America!" and a shower of shell and grape fell onthe British, driving them off the levee. The stranger was an Americanman-of-war schooner. The British brought up artillery to drive her off, but before they succeeded Jackson's land troops burst upon them, anda fierce, indecisive struggle followed. In the night all order wasspeedily lost, and the two sides fought singly or in groups in theutmost confusion. Finally a fog came up and the combatants separated. Jackson drew off four or five miles and camped. 

The British had been so roughly handled that they were unable to advancefor three or four days, until the entire army came up. When they didadvance, it was only to find that Jackson had made good use of the timehe had gained by his daring assault. He had thrown up breastworks ofmud and logs from the swamp to the river. At first the British tried tobatter down these breastworks with their cannon, for they had many moreguns than the Americans. A terrible artillery duel followed. For anhour or two the result seemed in doubt; but the American gunners showedthemselves to be far more skilful than their antagonists, and graduallygetting the upper hand, they finally silenced every piece of Britishartillery. The Americans had used cotton bales in the embrasures, andthe British hogsheads of sugar; but neither worked well, for the cottoncaught fire and the sugar hogsheads were ripped and splintered by theroundshot, so that both were abandoned. By the use of red-hot shot theBritish succeeded in setting on fire the American schooner which hadcaused them such annoyance on the evening of the night attack; but shehad served her purpose, and her destruction caused little anxiety toJackson. 

Having failed in his effort to batter down the American breastworks, and the British artillery having been fairly worsted by the American, Pakenham decided to try open assault. He had ten thousand regulartroops, while Jackson had under him but little over five thousand men, who were trained only as he had himself trained them in his Indiancampaigns. Not a fourth of them carried bayonets. Both Pakenham and thetroops under him were fresh from victories won over the most renownedmarshals of Napoleon, andover soldiers that had proved themselves on ahundred stricken fields the masters of all others in Continental Europe. At Toulouse they had driven Marshal Soult from a position infinitelystronger than that held by Jackson, and yet Soult had under him aveteran army. At Badajoz, Ciudad Rodrigo, and San Sebastian theyhad carried by open assault fortified towns whose strength madethe intrenchments of the Americans seem like the mud walls built bychildren, though these towns were held by the best soldiers of France. With such troops to follow him, and with such victories behind him inthe past, it did not seem possible to Pakenham that the assault of theterrible British infantry could be successfully met by rough backwoodsriflemen fighting under a general as wild and untrained as themselves. 

He decreed that the assault should take place on the morning of theeighth. Throughout the previous night the American officers were onthe alert, for they could hear the rumbling of artillery in the Britishcamp, the muffled tread of the battalions as they were marched to theirpoints in the line, and all the smothered din of the preparation forassault. Long before dawn the riflemen were awake and drawn up behindthe mud walls, where they lolled at ease, or, leaning on their longrifles, peered out through the fog toward the camp of their foes. Atlast the sun rose and the fog lifted, showing the scarlet array of thesplendid British infantry. As soon as the air was clear Pakenham gavethe word, and the heavy columns of redcoated grenadiers and kiltedHighlanders moved steadily forward. From the American breastworksthe great guns opened, but not a rifle cracked. Three fourths of thedistance were covered, and the eager soldiers broke into a run; thensheets of flame burst from the breastworks in their front as the wildriflemen of the backwoods rose and fired, line upon line. Under thesweeping hail the head of the British advance was shattered, and thewhole column stopped. Then it surged forward again, almost to the footof the breastworks; but not a man lived to reach them, and in a momentmore the troops broke and ran back. Mad with shame and rage, Pakenhamrode among them to rally and lead them forward, and the officers sprangaround him, smiting the fugitives with their swords and cheering on themen who stood. For a moment the troops halted, and again came forwardto the charge; but again they were met by a hail of bullets from thebackwoods rifles. One shot struck Pakenham himself. He reeled and fellfrom the saddle, and was carried off the field. The second and thirdin command fell also, and then all attempts at further advance wereabandoned, and the British troops ran back to their lines. Anotherassault had meanwhile been made by a column close to the river, thecharging soldiers rushing to the top of the breastworks; but they wereall killed or driven back. A body of troops had also been sent acrossthe river, where they routed a small detachment of Kentucky militia; butthey were, of course, recalled when the main assault failed. 

At last the men who had conquered the conquerors of Europe hadthemselves met defeat. Andrew Jackson and his rough riflemen hadworsted, in fair fight, a far larger force of the best of Wellington'sveterans, and had accomplished what no French marshal and no Frenchtroops had been able to accomplish throughout the long war in theSpanish peninsula. For a week the sullen British lay in their lines;then, abandoning their heavy artillery, they marched back to the shipsand sailed for Europe. 

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS AND THE RIGHT OF PETITION

 He rests with the immortals; his journey has been long: For him no wail of sorrow, but a paean full and strong! So well and bravely has he done the work be found to do, To justice, freedom, duty, God, and man forever true. --Whittier. 

The lot of ex-Presidents of the United States, as a rule, has beena life of extreme retirement, but to this rule there is one markedexception. When John Quincy Adams left the White House in March, 1829, it must have seemed as if public life could hold nothing more for him. He had had everything apparently that an American statesman could hopefor. He had been Minister to Holland and Prussia, to Russia and England. He had been a Senator of the United States, Secretary of State foreight years, and finally President. Yet, notwithstanding all this, thegreatest part of his career, and his noblest service to his country, were still before him when he gave up the Presidency. 

In the following year (1830) he was told that he might be elected tothe House of Representatives, and the gentleman who made the propositionventured to say that he thought an ex-President, by taking such aposition, "instead of degrading the individual would elevate therepresentative character. " Mr. Adams replied that he had "in thatrespect no scruples whatever. No person can be degraded by servingthe people as Representative in Congress, nor, in my opinion, would anex-President of the United States be degraded by serving as a selectmanof his town if elected thereto by the people. " A few weeks later he waschosen to the House, and the district continued to send him every twoyears from that time until his death. He did much excellent work in theHouse, and was conspicuous in more than one memorable scene; but hereit is possible to touch on only a single point, where he came forwardas the champion of a great principle, and fought a battle for the rightwhich will always be remembered among the great deeds of American publicmen. 

Soon after Mr. Adams took his seat in Congress, the movement for theabolition of slavery was begun by a few obscure agitators. It did not atfirst attract much attention, but as it went on it gradually exasperatedthe overbearing temper of the Southern slaveholders. One fruit of thisagitation was the appearance of petitions for the abolition of slaveryin the House of Representatives. A few were presented by Mr. Adamswithout attracting much notice; but as the petitions multiplied, theSouthern representatives became aroused. They assailed Mr. Adams forpresenting them, and finally passed what was known as the gag rule, which prevented the reception of these petitions by the House. Againstthis rule Mr. Adams protested, in the midst of the loud shouts ofthe Southerners, as a violation of his constitutional rights. Butthe tyranny of slavery at that time was so complete that the rule wasadopted and enforced, and the slaveholders, undertook in this wayto suppress free speech in the House, just as they also undertook toprevent the transmission through the mails of any writings adverse toslavery. With the wisdom of a statesman and a man of affairs, Mr. Adamsaddressed himself to the one practical point of the contest. He did notenter upon a discussion of slavery or of its abolition, but turned hiswhole force toward the vindication of the right of petition. On everypetition day he would offer, in constantly increasing numbers, petitionswhich came to him from all parts of the country for the abolition ofslavery, in this way driving the Southern representatives almost tomadness, despite their rule which prevented the reception of suchdocuments when offered. Their hatred of Mr. Adams is something difficultto conceive, and they were burning to break him down, and, if possible, drive him from the House. On February 6, 1837, after presenting theusual petitions, Mr. Adams offered one upon which he said he should likethe judgment of the Speaker as to its propriety, inasmuch as it was apetition from slaves. In a moment the House was in a tumult, andloud cries of "Expel him!" "Expel him!" rose in all directions. Oneresolution after another was offered looking toward his expulsion orcensure, and it was not until February 9, three days later, that he wasable to take the floor in his own defense. His speech was a masterpieceof argument, invective, and sarcasm. He showed, among other things, thathe had not offered the petition, but had only asked the opinion of theSpeaker upon it, and that the petition itself prayed that slavery shouldnot be abolished. When he closed his speech, which was quite as savageas any made against him, and infinitely abler, no one desired to reply, and the idea of censuring him was dropped. 

The greatest struggle, however, came five years later, when, on January21, 1842, Mr. Adams presented the petition of certain citizens ofHaverhill, Massachusetts, praying for the dissolution of the Unionon account of slavery. His enemies felt that now, at last, he haddelivered himself into their hands. Again arose the cry for hisexpulsion, and again vituperation was poured out upon him, andresolutions to expel him freely introduced. When he got the floor tospeak in his own defense, he faced an excited House, almost unanimouslyhostile to him, and possessing, as he well knew, both the will and thepower to drive him from its walls. But there was no wavering in Mr. Adams. "If they say they will try me, " he said, "they must try me. Ifthey say they will punish me, they must punish me. But if they say thatin peace and mercy they will spare me expulsion, I disdain and cast awaytheir mercy, and I ask if they will come to such a trial and expel me. Idefy them. I have constituents to go to, and they will have somethingto say if this House expels me, nor will it be long before the gentlemenwill see me here again. " The fight went on for nearly a fortnight, and on February 7 the whole subject was finally laid on the table. Thesturdy, dogged fighter, single-handed and alone, had beaten all theforces of the South and of slavery. No more memorable fight has everbeen made by one man in a parliamentary body, and after this decisivestruggle the tide began to turn. Every year Mr. Adams renewed his motionto strike out the gag rule, and forced it to a vote. Gradually themajority against it dwindled, until at last, on December 3, 1844, hismotion prevailed. Freedom of speech had been vindicated in the AmericanHouse of Representatives, the right of petition had been won, and thefirst great blow against the slave power had been struck. 

Four years later Mr. Adams fell, stricken with paralysis, at his placein the House, and a few hours afterward, with the words, "This isthe last of earth; I am content, " upon his lips, he sank intounconsciousness and died. It was a fit end to a great public career. Hisfight for the right of petition is one to be studied and remembered, andMr. Adams made it practically alone. The slaveholders of the South andthe representatives of the North were alike against him. Against him, too, as his biographer, Mr. Morse, says, was the class in Boston towhich he naturally belonged by birth and education. He had toencounter the bitter resistance in his own set of the "consciencelessrespectability of wealth, " but the great body of the New England peoplewere with him, as were the voters of his own district. He was an oldman, with the physical infirmities of age. His eyes were weak andstreaming; his hands were trembling; his voice cracked in moments ofexcitement; yet in that age of oratory, in the days of Webster and Clay, he was known as the "old man eloquent. " It was what he said, more thanthe way he said it, which told. His vigorous mind never worked moresurely and clearly than when he stood alone in the midst of an angryHouse, the target of their hatred and abuse. His arguments were strong, and his large knowledge and wide experience supplied him with everyweapon for defense and attack. Beneath the lash of his invective and hissarcasm the hottest of the slaveholders cowered away. He set his backagainst a great principle. He never retreated an inch, he never yielded, he never conciliated, he was always an assailant, and no man and nobody of men had the power to turn him. He had his dark hours, he feltbitterly the isolation of his position, but he never swerved. He hadgood right to set down in his diary, when the gag rule was repealed, "Blessed, forever blessed, be the name of God. "

FRANCIS PARKMAN

(1822-1893)

 He told the red man's story; far and wide He searched the unwritten annals of his race; He sat a listener at the Sachem's side, He tracked the hunter through his wild-wood chase. 

 High o'er his head the soaring eagle screamed; The wolfs long howl rang nightly; through the vale Tramped the lone bear; the panther's eyeballs gleamed; The bison's gallop thundered on the gale. 

 Soon o'er the horizon rose the cloud of strife, Two proud, strong nations battling for the prize: Which swarming host should mould a nation's life; Which royal banner flout the western skies. 

 Long raged the conflict; on the crimson sod Native and alien joined their hosts in vain; The lilies withered where the lion trod, Till Peace lay panting on the ravaged plain. 

 A nobler task was theirs who strove to win The blood-stained heathen to the Christian fold; To free from Satan's clutch the slaves of sin; These labors, too, with loving grace he told. 

 Halting with feeble step, or bending o'er The sweet-breathed roses which he loved so well, While through long years his burdening cross he bore, From those firm lips no coward accents fell. 

 A brave bright memory! His the stainless shield No shame defaces and no envy mars! When our far future's record is unsealed, His name will shine among its morning stars. --Holmes. 

The stories in this volume deal, for the most part, with single actions, generally with deeds of war and feats of arms. In this one I desireto give if possible the impression, for it can be no more thanan impression, of a life which in its conflicts and its victoriesmanifested throughout heroic qualities. Such qualities can be shown inmany ways, and the field of battle is only one of the fields of humanendeavor where heroism can be displayed. 

Francis Parkman was born in Boston on September 16, 1822. He came ofa well-known family, and was of a good Puritan stock. He was rather adelicate boy, with an extremely active mind and of a highly sensitive, nervous organization. Into everything that attracted him he threwhimself with feverish energy. His first passion, when he was only abouttwelve years old, was for chemistry, and his eager boyish experiments inthis direction were undoubtedly injurious to his health. The interest inchemistry was succeeded by a passion for the woods and the wilderness, and out of this came the longing to write the history of the men of thewilderness, and of the great struggle between France and England for thecontrol of the North American continent. All through his college careerthis desire was with him, and while in secret he was reading widely toprepare himself for his task, he also spent a great deal of time in theforests and on the mountains. To quote his own words, he was "fond ofhardships, and he was vain of enduring them, cherishing a sovereignscorn for every physical weakness or defect; but deceived, moreover, bythe rapid development of frame and sinew, which flattered him into thebelief that discipline sufficiently unsparing would harden him into anathlete, he slighted the precautions of a more reasonable woodcraft, tired old foresters with long marches, stopped neither for heat nor forrain, and slept on the earth without blankets. " The result was that hisintense energy carried him beyond his strength, and while his musclesstrengthened and hardened, his sensitive nervous organization began togive way. It was not merely because he led an active outdoor life. Hehimself protests against any such conclusion, and says that "if any palestudent glued to his desk here seek an apology for a way of life whosenatural fruit is that pallid and emasculate scholarship, of which NewEngland has had too many examples, it will be far better that thissketch had not been written. For the student there is, in its season, nobetter place than the saddle, and no better companion than the rifle orthe oar. "

The evil that was done was due to Parkman's highly irritable organism, which spurred him to excess in everything he undertook. The firstspecial sign of the mischief he was doing to himself and his healthappeared in a weakness of sight. It was essential to his plan ofhistorical work to study not only books and records but Indian life fromthe inside. Therefore, having graduated from college and the law-school, he felt that the time had come for this investigation, which wouldenable him to gather material for his history and at the same timeto rest his eyes. He went to the Rocky Mountains, and after greathardships, living in the saddle, as he said, with weakness and pain, hejoined a band of Ogallalla Indians. With them he remained despite hisphysical suffering, and from them he learned, as he could not havelearned in any other way, what Indian life really was. 

The immediate result of the journey was his first book, instinct withthe freshness and wildness of the mountains and the prairies, and calledby him "The Oregon Trail. " Unfortunately, the book was not the onlyoutcome. The illness incurred during his journey from fatigue andexposure was followed by other disorders. The light of the sun becameinsupportable, and his nervous system was entirely deranged. Hissight was now so impaired that he was almost blind, and could neitherread nor write. It was a terrible prospect for a brilliant and ambitiousman, but Parkman faced it unflinchingly. He devised a frame by whichhe could write with closed eyes, and books and manuscripts were read tohim. In this way he began the history of "The Conspiracy of Pontiac, "and for the first half-year the rate of composition covered about sixlines a day. His courage was rewarded by an improvement in his health, and a little more quiet in nerves and brain. In two and a half years hemanaged to complete the book. He then entered upon his great subject of"France in the New World. " The material was mostly in manuscript, andhad to be examined, gathered, and selected in Europe and in Canada. He could not read, he could write only a very little and that withdifficulty, and yet he pressed on. He slowly collected his material anddigested and arranged it, using the eyes of others to do that which hecould not do himself, and always on the verge of a complete breakdownof mind and body. In 1851 he had an effusion of water on the left knee, which stopped his outdoor exercise, on which he had always largelydepended. All the irritability of the system then centered in the head, resulting in intense pain and in a restless and devouring activityof thought. He himself says: "The whirl, the confusion, and strange, undefined tortures attending this condition are only to be conceivedby one who has felt them. " The resources of surgery and medicine wereexhausted in vain. The trouble in the head and eyes constantly recurred. In 1858 there came a period when for four years he was incapable of theslightest mental application, and the attacks varied in duration fromfour hours to as many months. When the pressure was lightened a littlehe went back to his work. When work was impossible, he turned tohorticulture, grew roses, and wrote a book about the cultivation ofthose flowers which is a standard authority. 

As he grew older the attacks moderated, although they never departed. Sleeplessness pursued him always, the slightest excitement would deprivehim of the power of exertion, his sight was always sensitive, and attimes he was bordering on blindness. In this hard-pressed way he foughtthe battle of life. He says himself that his books took four times aslong to prepare and write as if he had been strong and able to use hisfaculties. That this should have been the case is little wonder, forthose books came into being with failing sight and shattered nerves, with sleeplessness and pain, and the menace of insanity ever hangingover the brave man who, nevertheless, carried them through to an end. 

Yet the result of those fifty years, even in amount, is a noble one, andwould have been great achievement for a man who had never known a sickday. In quality, and subject, and method of narration, they leave littleto be desired. There, in Parkman's volumes, is told vividly, strongly, and truthfully, the history of the great struggle between France andEngland for the mastery of the North American continent, one of themost important events of modern times. This is not the place to giveany critical estimate of Mr. Parkman's work. It is enough to say that itstands in the front rank. It is a great contribution to history, anda still greater gift to the literature of this country. All Americanscertainly should read the volumes in which Parkman has told thatwonderful story of hardship and adventure, of fighting and ofstatesmanship, which gave this great continent to the English race andthe English speech. But better than the literature or the history isthe heroic spirit of the man, which triumphed over pain and all otherphysical obstacles, and brought a work of such value to his countryand his time into existence. There is a great lesson as well as a loftyexample in such a career, and in the service which such a man renderedby his life and work to literature and to his country. On the tomb ofthe conqueror of Quebec it is written: "Here lies Wolfe victorious. "The same epitaph might with entire justice be carved above the grave ofWolfe's historian. 

"REMEMBER THE ALAMO"

 The muffled drum's sad roll has beat The soldier's last tattoo; No more on life's parade shall meet That brave and fallen few. On fame's eternal camping-ground Their silent tents are spread, And glory guards with solemn round The bivouac of the dead. 

 * * *

 The neighing troop, the flashing blade, The bugle's stirring blast, The charge, the dreadful cannonade, The din and shout are past; Nor war's wild note, nor glory's peal Shall thrill with fierce delight Those breasts that never more may feel The rapture of the fight. --Theodore O'Hara. 

"Thermopylae had its messengers of death, but the Alamo had none. " Thesewere the words with which a United States senator referred to one ofthe most resolute and effective fights ever waged by brave men againstoverwhelming odds in the face of certain death. 

Soon after the close of the second war with Great Britain, parties ofAmerican settlers began to press forward into the rich, sparsely settledterritory of Texas, then a portion of Mexico. At first these immigrantswere well received, but the Mexicans speedily grew jealous of them, andoppressed them in various ways. In consequence, when the settlersfelt themselves strong enough, they revolted against Mexican rule, anddeclared Texas to be an independent republic. Immediately Santa Anna, the Dictator of Mexico, gathered a large army, and invaded Texas. Theslender forces of the settlers were unable to meet his hosts. They werepressed back by the Mexicans, and dreadful atrocities were committedby Santa Anna and his lieutenants. In the United States there was greatenthusiasm for the struggling Texans, and many bold backwoodsmen andIndian-fighters swarmed to their help. Among them the two most famouswere Sam Houston and David Crockett. Houston was the younger man, andhad already led an extraordinary and varied career. When a mere lad hehad run away from home and joined the Cherokees, living among them forsome years; then he returned home. He had fought under Andrew Jackson inhis campaigns against the Creeks, and had been severely wounded at thebattle of the Horse-shoe Bend. He had risen to the highest politicalhonors in his State, becoming governor of Tennessee; and then suddenly, in a fit of moody longing for the life of the wilderness, he gave up hisgovernorship, left the State, and crossed the Mississippi, going to joinhis old comrades, the Cherokees, in their new home along the watersof the Arkansas. Here he dressed, lived, fought, hunted, and drankprecisely like any Indian, becoming one of the chiefs. 

David Crockett was born soon after the Revolutionary War. He, too, hadtaken part under Jackson in the campaigns against the Creeks, and hadafterward become a man of mark in Tennessee, and gone to Congress as aWhig; but he had quarreled with Jackson, and been beaten for Congress, and in his disgust he left the State and decided to join the Texans. Hewas the most famous rifle-shot in all the United States, and the mostsuccessful hunter, so that his skill was a proverb all along the border. 

David Crockett journeyed south, by boat and horse, making his waysteadily toward the distant plains where the Texans were waging theirlife-and-death fight. Texas was a wild place in those days, and the oldhunter had more than one hairbreadth escape from Indians, desperadoes, and savage beasts, ere he got to the neighborhood of San Antonio, andjoined another adventurer, a bee-hunter, bent on the same errand ashimself. The two had been in ignorance of exactly what the situation inTexas was; but they soon found that the Mexican army was marching towardSan Antonio, whither they were going. Near the town was an old Spanishfort, the Alamo, in which the hundred and fifty American defenders ofthe place had gathered. Santa Anna had four thousand troops withhim. The Alamo was a mere shell, utterly unable to withstand either abombardment or a regular assault. It was evident, therefore, that thosewithin it would be in the utmost jeopardy if the place were seriouslyassaulted, but old Crockett and his companion never wavered. They werefearless and resolute, and masters of woodcraft, and they managed toslip through the Mexican lines and join the defenders within the walls. The bravest, the hardiest, the most reckless men of the border werethere; among them were Colonel Travis, the commander of the fort, andBowie, the inventor of the famous bowie-knife. They were a wild andill-disciplined band, little used to restraint or control, but they weremen of iron courage and great bodily powers, skilled in the use of theirweapons, and ready to meet with stern and uncomplaining indifferencewhatever doom fate might have in store for them. 

Soon Santa Anna approached with his army, took possession of the town, and besieged the fort. The defenders knew there was scarcely a chanceof rescue, and that it was hopeless to expect that one hundred andfifty men, behind defenses so weak, could beat off four thousand trainedsoldiers, well armed and provided with heavy artillery; but they had noidea of flinching, and made a desperate defense. The days went by, andno help came, while Santa Anna got ready his lines, and began a furiouscannonade. His gunners were unskilled, however, and he had to serve theguns from a distance; for when they were pushed nearer, the Americanriflemen crept forward under cover, and picked off the artillerymen. Old Crockett thus killed five men at one gun. But, by degrees, thebombardment told. The walls of the Alamo were battered and riddled; andwhen they had been breached so as to afford no obstacle to the rush ofhis soldiers, Santa Anna commanded that they be stormed. 

The storm took place on March 6, 1836. The Mexican troops came on welland steadily, breaking through the outer defenses at every point, for the lines were too long to be manned by the few Americans. Thefrontiersmen then retreated to the inner building, and a desperatehand-to-hand conflict followed, the Mexicans thronging in, shootingthe Americans with their muskets, and thrusting at them with lance andbayonet, while the Americans, after firing their long rifles, clubbedthem, and fought desperately, one against many; and they also used theirbowie-knives and revolvers with deadly effect. The fight reeled to andfro between the shattered walls, each American the center of a group offoes; but, for all their strength and their wild fighting courage, thedefenders were too few, and the struggle could have but one end. One byone the tall riflemen succumbed, after repeated thrusts with bayonet andlance, until but three or four were left. Colonel Travis, the commander, was among them; and so was Bowie, who was sick and weak from a wastingdisease, but who rallied all his strength to die fighting, and who, inthe final struggle, slew several Mexicans with his revolver, and withhis big knife of the kind to which he had given his name. Then thesefell too, and the last man stood at bay. It was old Davy Crockett. Wounded in a dozen places, he faced his foes with his back to the wall, ringed around by the bodies of the men he had slain. So desperate wasthe fight he waged, that the Mexicans who thronged round about himwere beaten back for the moment, and no one dared to run in upon him. Accordingly, while the lancers held him where he was, for, weakenedby wounds and loss of blood, he could not break through them, themusketeers loaded their carbines and shot him down. Santa Anna declinedto give him mercy. Some say that when Crockett fell from his wounds, hewas taken alive, and was then shot by Santa Anna's order; but his fatecannot be told with certainty, for not a single American was left alive. At any rate, after Crockett fell the fight was over. Every one of thehardy men who had held the Alamo lay still in death. Yet they died wellavenged, for four times their number fell at their hands in the battle. 

Santa Anna had but a short while in which to exult over his bloody andhard-won victory. Already a rider from the rolling Texas plains, goingnorth through the Indian Territory, had told Houston that the Texanswere up and were striving for their liberty. At once in Houston's mindthere kindled a longing to return to the men of his race at the time oftheir need. Mounting his horse, he rode south by night and day, and washailed by the Texans as a heaven-sent leader. He took command of theirforces, eleven hundred stark riflemen, and at the battle of San Jacinto, he and his men charged the Mexican hosts with the cry of "Remember theAlamo. " Almost immediately, the Mexicans were overthrown with terribleslaughter; Santa Anna himself was captured, and the freedom of Texas waswon at a blow. 

HAMPTON ROADS

 Then far away to the south uprose A little feather of snow-white smoke, And we knew that the iron ship of our foes Was steadily steering its course To try the force Of our ribs of oak. 

 Down upon us heavily runs, Silent and sullen, the floating fort; Then comes a puff of smoke from her guns, And leaps the terrible death, With fiery breath, From her open port. 

 * * *

 Ho! brave hearts, that went down in the seas! Ye are at peace in the troubled stream; Ho! brave land! with hearts like these, Thy flag, that is rent in twain, Shall be one again, And without a seam! --Longfellow

The naval battles of the Civil War possess an immense importance, because they mark the line of cleavage between naval warfare under theold, and naval warfare under the new, conditions. The ships withwhich Hull and Decatur and McDonough won glory in the war of 1812 wereessentially like those with which Drake and Hawkins and Frobisher hadharried the Spanish armadas two centuries and a half earlier. They werewooden sailing-vessels, carrying many guns mounted in broadside, likethose of De Ruyter and Tromp, of Blake and Nelson. Throughoutthis period all the great admirals, all the famous single-shipfighters, --whose skill reached its highest expression in our ownnavy during the war of 1812, --commanded craft built and armed in asubstantially similar manner, and fought with the same weapons and undermuch the same conditions. But in the Civil War weapons and methodswere introduced which caused a revolution greater even than that whichdivided the sailing-ship from the galley. The use of steam, the casing ofships in iron armor, and the employment of the torpedo, the ram, and thegun of high power, produced such radically new types that the oldships of the line became at one stroke as antiquated as the galleys ofHamilcar or Alcibiades. Some of these new engines of destruction wereinvented, and all were for the first time tried in actual combat, duringour own Civil War. The first occasion on which any of the new methodswere thoroughly tested was attended by incidents which made it one ofthe most striking of naval battles. 

In Chesapeake Bay, near Hampton Roads, the United States had collecteda fleet of wooden ships; some of them old-style sailing-vessels, otherssteamers. The Confederates were known to be building a great iron-cladram, and the wooden vessels were eagerly watching for her appearancewhen she should come out of Gosport Harbor. Her powers and capacitywere utterly unknown. She was made out of the former United Statessteam-frigate Merrimac, cut down so as to make her fore and aft decksnearly flat, and not much above the water, while the guns were mountedin a covered central battery, with sloping flanks. Her sides, deck, and battery were coated with iron, and she was armed with formidablerifle-guns, and, most important of all, with a steel ram thrust outunder water forward from her bow. She was commanded by a gallant andefficient officer, Captain Buchanan. 

It was March 8, 1862, when the ram at last made her appearance withinsight of the Union fleet. The day was calm and very clear, so that thethrongs of spectators on shore could see every feature of the battle. With the great ram came three light gunboats, all of which took part inthe action, harassing the vessels which she assailed; but they werenot factors of importance in the fight. On the Union side the vesselsnearest were the sailing-ships Cumberland and Congress, and thesteam-frigate Minnesota. The Congress and Cumberland were anchored notfar from each other; the Minnesota got aground, and was some distanceoff. Owing to the currents and shoals and the lack of wind, no othervessel was able to get up in time to take a part in the fight. 

As soon as the ram appeared, out of the harbor, she turned and steamedtoward the Congress and the Cumberland, the black smoke rising from herfunnels, and the great ripples running from each side of her iron prowas she drove steadily through the still waters. On board of the Congressand Cumberland there was eager anticipation, but not a particle of fear. The officers in command, Captain Smith and Lieutenant Morris, were twoof the most gallant men in a service where gallantry has always beentoo common to need special comment. The crews were composed of veterans, well trained, self-confident, and proud beyond measure of the flag whosehonor they upheld. The guns were run out, and the men stood at quarters, while the officers eagerly conned the approaching ironclad. The Congresswas the first to open fire; and, as her volleys flew, the men on theCumberland were astounded to see the cannon-shot bound off the slopingsides of the ram as hailstones bound from a windowpane. The ramanswered, and her rifle-shells tore the sides of the Congress; but forher first victim she aimed at the Cumberland, and, firing her bowguns, came straight as an arrow at the little sloop-of-war, which laybroadside to her. 

It was an absolutely hopeless struggle. The Cumberland was asailing-ship, at anchor, with wooden sides, and a battery of light guns. Against the formidable steam ironclad, with her heavy rifles and steelram, she was as powerless as if she had been a rowboat; and from themoment the men saw the cannon-shot bound from the ram's sides they knewthey were doomed. But none of them flinched. Once and again they firedtheir guns full against the approaching ram, and in response received afew shells from the great bow-rifles of the latter. Then, forgingahead, the Merrimac struck her antagonist with her steel prow, and thesloop-of-war reeled and shuddered, and through the great rent in herside the black water rushed. She foundered in a few minutes; but hercrew fought her to the last, cheering as they ran out the guns, andsending shot after shot against the ram as the latter backed off afterdelivering her blow. The rush of the water soon swamped the lower decks, but the men above continued to serve their guns until the upper deckalso was awash, and the vessel had not ten seconds of life left. Then, with her flags flying, her men cheering, and her guns firing, theCumberland sank. It was shallow where she settled down, so that hermasts remained above the water. The glorious flag for which the bravemen aboard her had died flew proudly in the wind all that day, while thefight went on, and throughout the night; and next morning it was stillstreaming over the beautiful bay, to mark the resting-place of asgallant a vessel as ever sailed or fought on the high seas. 

After the Cumberland sank, the ram turned her attention to the Congress. Finding it difficult to get to her in the shoal water, she began toknock her to pieces with her great rifle-guns. The unequal fight betweenthe ironclad and the wooden ship lasted for perhaps half an hour. Bythat time the commander of the Congress had been killed, and herdecks looked like a slaughterhouse. She was utterly unable to makeany impression on her foe, and finally she took fire and blew up. TheMinnesota was the third victim marked for destruction, and the Merrimacbegan the attack upon her at once; but it was getting very late, and asthe water was shoal and she could not get close, the rain finallydrew back to her anchorage, to wait until next day before renewing andcompleting her work of destruction. 

All that night there was the wildest exultation among the Confederates, while the gloom and panic of the Union men cannot be described. Itwas evident that the United States ships-of-war were as helpless ascockle-shells against their iron-clad foe, and there was no questionbut that she could destroy the whole fleet with ease and with absoluteimpunity. This meant not only the breaking of the blockade; but thesweeping away at one blow of the North's naval supremacy, which wasindispensable to the success of the war for the Union. It is smallwonder that during that night the wisest and bravest should have almostdespaired. 

But in the hour of the nation's greatest need a champion suddenlyappeared, in time to play the last scene in this great drama of seawarfare. The North, too, had been trying its hand at building ironclads. The most successful of them was the little Monitor, a flat-decked, low, turreted, ironclad, armed with a couple of heavy guns. She was the firstexperiment of her kind, and her absolutely flat surface, nearly levelwith the water, her revolving turret, and her utter unlikeness to anypre-existing naval type, had made her an object of mirth among mostpractical seamen; but her inventor, Ericsson, was not disheartened inthe least by the jeers. Under the command of a gallant naval officer, Captain Worden, she was sent South from New York, and though she almostfoundered in a gale she managed to weather it, and reached the sceneof the battle at Hampton Roads at the moment when her presence wasall-important. 

Early the following morning the Merrimac, now under Captain Jones (forBuchanan had been wounded), again steamed forth to take up the work shehad so well begun and to destroy the Union fleet. She steered straightfor the Minnesota; but when she was almost there, to her astonishmenta strange-looking little craft advanced from the side of the bigwooden frigate and boldly barred the Merrimac's path. For a moment theConfederates could hardly believe their eyes. The Monitor was tiny, compared to their ship, for she was not one fifth the size, and herqueer appearance made them look at their new foe with contempt; but thefirst shock of battle did away with this feeling. The Merrimac turned onher foe her rifleguns, intending to blow her out of the water, butthe shot glanced from the thick iron turret of the Monitor. Then theMonitors guns opened fire, and as the great balls struck the sides ofthe ram her plates started and her timbers gave. Had the Monitor beensuch a vessel as those of her type produced later in the war, the ramwould have been sunk then and there; but as it was her shot were notquite heavy enough to pierce the iron walls. Around and around the twostrange combatants hovered, their guns bellowing without cessation, while the men on the frigates and on shore watched the result withbreathless interest. Neither the Merrimac nor the Monitor could disposeof its antagonist. The ram's guns could not damage the turret, and theMonitor was able dexterously to avoid the stroke of the formidableprow. On the other hand, the shot of the Monitor could not penetrate theMerrimac's tough sides. Accordingly, fierce though the struggle was, andmuch though there was that hinged on it, it was not bloody in character. The Merrimac could neither destroy nor evade the Monitor. She could notsink her when she tried to, and when she abandoned her and turned toattack one of the other wooden vessels, the little turreted ship wasthrown across her path, so that the fight had to be renewed. Both sidesgrew thoroughly exhausted, and finally the battle ceased by mutualconsent. 

Nothing more could be done. The ram was badly damaged, and there wasno help for her save to put back to the port whence she had come. Twiceafterward she came out, but neither time did she come near enough to theMonitor to attack her, and the latter could not move off where she wouldcease to protect the wooden vessels. The ram was ultimately blown up bythe Confederates on the advance of the Union army. 

Tactically, the fight was a drawn battle--neither ship being able todamage the other, and both ships, being fought to a standstill; butthe moral and material effects were wholly in favor of the Monitor. Hervictory was hailed with exultant joy throughout the whole Union, andexercised a correspondingly depressing effect in the Confederacy; whileevery naval man throughout the world, who possessed eyes to see, sawthat the fight in Hampton Roads had inaugurated a new era in oceanwarfare, and that the Monitor and Merrimac, which had waged so gallantand so terrible a battle, were the first ships of the new era, and thatas such their names would be forever famous. 

THE FLAG-BEARER

 Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword; His truth is marching on. 

 I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps; I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps; His day is marching on. 

 He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never beat retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat; Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on. --Julia Ward Howe. 

In no war since the close of the great Napoleonic struggles has thefighting been so obstinate and bloody as in the Civil War. Much hasbeen said in song and story of the resolute courage of the Guardsat Inkerman, of the charge of the Light Brigade, and of the terriblefighting and loss of the German armies at Mars La Tour and Gravelotte. The praise bestowed, upon the British and Germans for their valor, andfor the loss that proved their valor, was well deserved; but there wereover one hundred and twenty regiments, Union and Confederate, each ofwhich, in some one battle of the Civil War, suffered a greater loss thanany English regiment at Inkerman or at any other battle in the Crimea, a greater loss than was suffered by any German regiment at Gravelotte orat any other battle of the Franco-Prussian war. No European regiment inany recent struggle has suffered such losses as at Gettysburg befell the1st Minnesota, when 82 per cent. Of the officers and men were killed andwounded; or the 141st Pennsylvania, which lost 76 per cent. ; or the 26thNorth Carolina, which lost 72 per cent. ; such as at the second battleof Manassas befell the 101st New York, which lost 74 per cent. , andthe 21st Georgia, which lost 76 per cent. At Cold Harbor the 25thMassachusetts lost 70 per cent. , and the 10th Tennessee at Chickamauga68 per cent. ; while at Shiloh the 9th Illinois lost 63 per cent. , andthe 6th Mississippi 70 per cent. ; and at Antietam the 1st Texas lost82 percent. The loss of the Light Brigade in killed and wounded in itsfamous charge at Balaklava was but 37 per cent. 

These figures show the terrible punishment endured by theseregiments, chosen at random from the head of the list which shows theslaughter-roll of the Civil War. Yet the shattered remnants of eachregiment preserved their organization, and many of the severest losseswere incurred in the hour of triumph, and not of disaster. Thus, the 1stMinnesota, at Gettysburg, suffered its appalling loss while charging agreatly superior force, which it drove before it; and the little huddleof wounded and unwounded men who survived their victorious chargeactually kept both the flag they had captured and the ground from whichthey had driven their foes. 

A number of the Continental regiments under Washington, Greene, andWayne did valiant fighting and endured heavy punishment. Several of theregiments raised on the northern frontier in 1814 showed, under Brownand Scott, that they were able to meet the best troops of Britain onequal terms in the open, and even to overmatch them in fair fight withthe bayonet. The regiments which, in the Mexican war, under the lead ofTaylor, captured Monterey, and beat back Santa Anna at Buena Vista, orwhich, with Scott as commander, stormed Molino Del Rey and Chapultepec, proved their ability to bear terrible loss, to wrest victory fromoverwhelming numbers, and to carry by open assault positions offormidable strength held by a veteran army. But in none of these threewars was the fighting so resolute and bloody as in the Civil War. 

Countless deeds of heroism were performed by Northerner and bySoutherner, by officer and by private, in every year of the greatstruggle. The immense majority of these deeds went unrecorded, andwere known to few beyond the immediate participants. Of those that werenoticed it would be impossible even to make a dry catalogue in ten suchvolumes as this. All that can be done is to choose out two or three actsof heroism, not as exceptions, but as examples of hundreds of others. The times of war are iron times, and bring out all that is best as wellas all that is basest in the human heart. In a full recital of the civilwar, as of every other great conflict, there would stand out in nakedrelief feats of wonderful daring and self-devotion, and, mixed amongthem, deeds of cowardice, of treachery, of barbarous brutality. Sadderstill, such a recital would show strange contrasts in the careers ofindividual men, men who at one time acted well and nobly, and at anothertime ill and basely. The ugly truths must not be blinked, and thelessons they teach should be set forth by every historian, and learnedby every statesman and soldier; but, for our good fortune, the lessonsbest worth learning in the nation's past are lessons of heroism. 

From immemorial time the armies of every warlike people have set thehighest value upon the standards they bore to battle. To guard one's ownflag against capture is the pride, to capture the flag of one's enemythe ambition, of every valiant soldier. In consequence, in every warbetween peoples of good military record, feats of daring performedby color-bearers are honorably common. The Civil War was full of suchincidents. Out of very many two or three may be mentioned as noteworthy. 

One occurred at Fredericksburg on the day when half the brigadesof Meagher and Caldwell lay on the bloody slope leading up to theConfederate entrenchments. Among the assaulting regiments was the 5thNew Hampshire, and it lost one hundred and eighty-six out of threehundred men who made the charge. The survivors fell sullenly back behinda fence, within easy range of the Confederate rifle-pits. Just beforereaching it the last of the color guard was shot, and the flag fellin the open. A Captain Perry instantly ran out to rescue it, and as hereached it was shot through the heart; another, Captain Murray, madethe same attempt and was also killed; and so was a third, Moore. Severalprivate soldiers met a like fate. They were all killed close to theflag, and their dead bodies fell across one another. Taking advantage ofthis breastwork, Lieutenant Nettleton crawled from behind the fence tothe colors, seized them, and bore back the blood-won trophy. 

Another took place at Gaines' Mill, where Gregg's 1st South Carolinaformed part of the attacking force. The resistance was desperate, andthe fury of the assault unsurpassed. At one point it fell to the lot ofthis regiment to bear the brunt of carrying a certain strong position. Moving forward at a run, the South Carolinians were swept by a fierceand searching fire. Young James Taylor, a lad of sixteen, was carryingthe flag, and was killed after being shot down three times, twice risingand struggling onward with the colors. The third time he fell the flagwas seized by George Cotchet, and when he, in turn, fell, by ShubrickHayne. Hayne was also struck down almost immediately, and the fourthlad, for none of them were over twenty years old, grasped the colors, and fell mortally wounded across the body of his friend. The fifth, Gadsden Holmes, was pierced with no less than seven balls. The sixthman, Dominick Spellman, more fortunate, but not less brave, bore theflag throughout the rest of the battle. 

Yet another occurred at Antietam. The 7th Maine, then under the commandof Major T. W. Hyde, was one of the hundreds of regiments that on manyhard-fought fields established a reputation for dash and unyieldingendurance. Toward the early part of the day at Antietam it merely tookits share in the charging and long-range firing, together with the NewYork and Vermont regiments which were its immediate neighbors in theline. The fighting was very heavy. In one of the charges, the Maine menpassed over what had been a Confederate regiment. The gray-clad soldierswere lying, both ranks, privates and officers, as they fell, for so manyhad been killed or disabled that it seemed as if the whole regiment wasprone in death. 

Much of the time the Maine men lay on the battle-field, hugging theground, under a heavy artillery fire, but beyond the reach of ordinarymusketry. One of the privates, named Knox, was a wonderful shot, and hadreceived permission to use his own special rifle, a weapon accuratelysighted for very long range. While the regiment thus lay under the stormof shot and shell, he asked leave to go to the front; and for an hourafterward his companions heard his rifle crack every few minutes. MajorHyde finally, from curiosity, crept forward to see what he was doing, and found that he had driven every man away from one section of aConfederate battery, tumbling over gunner after gunner as they cameforward to fire. One of his victims was a general officer, whose horsehe killed. At the end of an hour or so, a piece of shell took off thebreech of his pet rifle, and he returned disconsolate; but after a fewminutes he gathered three rifles that were left by wounded men, and wentback again to his work. 

At five o'clock in the afternoon the regiment was suddenly called uponto undertake a hopeless charge, owing to the blunder of the brigadecommander, who was a gallant veteran of the Mexican war, but who wasalso given to drink. Opposite the Union lines at this point were somehaystacks, near a group of farm buildings. They were right in the centerof the Confederate position, and sharpshooters stationed among them werepicking off the Union gunners. The brigadier, thinking that they wereheld by but a few skirmishers, rode to where the 7th Maine was lyingon the ground, and said: "Major Hyde, take your regiment and drive theenemy from those trees and buildings. " Hyde saluted, and said that hehad seen a large force of rebels go in among the buildings, probably twobrigades in all. The brigadier answered, "Are you afraid to go, sir?"and repeated the order emphatically. "Give the order, so the regimentcan hear it, and we are ready, sir, " said Hyde. This was done, and"Attention" brought every man to his feet. With the regiment were twoyoung boys who carried the marking guidons, and Hyde ordered these tothe rear. They pretended to go, but as soon as the regiment charged camealong with it. One of them lost his arm, and the other was killed on thefield. The colors were carried by the color corporal, Harry Campbell. 

Hyde gave the orders to left face and forward and the Maine men marchedout in front of a Vermont regiment which lay beside them; then, facingto the front, they crossed a sunken road, which was so filled with deadand wounded Confederates that Hyde's horse had to step on them to getover. 

Once across, they stopped for a moment in the trampled corn tostraighten the line, and then charged toward the right of the barns. On they went at the double-quick, fifteen skirmishers ahead underLieutenant Butler, Major Hyde on the right on his Virginia thoroughbred, and Adjutant Haskell to the left on a big white horse. The latter wasshot down at once, as was his horse, and Hyde rode round in front of theregiment just in time to see a long line of men in gray rise from behindthe stone wall of the Hagerstown pike, which was to their right, andpour in a volley; but it mostly went too high. He then ordered his mento left oblique. 

Just as they were abreast a hill to the right of the barns, Hyde, beingsome twenty feet ahead, looked over its top and saw several regiments ofConfederates, jammed close together and waiting at the ready; so he gavethe order left flank, and, still at the double quick, took his columnpast the barns and buildings toward an orchard on the hither side, hoping that he could get them back before they were cut off, for theywere faced by ten times their number. By going through the orchard heexpected to be able to take advantage of a hollow, and partially escapethe destructive flank fire on his return. 

To hope to keep the barns from which they had driven the sharpshooterswas vain, for the single Maine regiment found itself opposed to portionsof no less than four Confederate brigades, at least a dozen regimentsall told. When the men got to the orchard fence, Sergeant Bensonwrenched apart the tall pickets to let through Hyde's horse. While hewas doing this, a shot struck his haversack, and the men all laughed atthe sight of the flying hardtack. 

Going into the orchard there was a rise of ground, and the Confederatesfired several volleys at the Maine men, and then charged them. Hyde'shorse was twice wounded, but was still able to go on. 

No sooner were the men in blue beyond the fence than they got intoline and met the Confederates, as they came crowding behind, witha slaughtering fire, and then charged, driving them back. The colorcorporal was still carrying the colors, though one of his arms had beenbroken; but when half way through the orchard, Hyde heard him call outas he fell, and turned back to save the colors, if possible. 

The apple-trees were short and thick, and he could not see much, and theConfederates speedily got between him and his men. Immediately, with thecry of "Rally, boys, to save the Major, " back surged the regiment, anda volley at arm's length again destroyed all the foremost of theirpursuers; so they rescued both their commander and the flag, which wascarried off by Corporal Ring. 

Hyde then formed the regiment on the colors, sixty-eight men all told, out of two hundred and forty who had begun the charge, and they slowlymarched back toward their place in the Union line, while the New Yorkersand Vermonters rose from the ground cheering and waving their hats. Next day, when the Confederates had retired a little from the field, the color corporal, Campbell, was found in the orchard, dead, propped upagainst a tree, with his half-smoked pipe beside him. 

THE DEATH OF STONEWALL JACKSON

 Like a servant of the Lord, with his bible and his sword, Our general rode along us, to form us for the fight. --Macaulay. 

The Civil War has left, as all wars of brother against brother mustleave, terrible and heartrending memories; but there remains as anoffset the glory which has accrued to the nation by the countless deedsof heroism performed by both sides in the struggle. The captains and thearmies that, after long years of dreary campaigning and bloody, stubbornfighting, brought the war to a close, have left us more than a reunitedrealm. North and South, all Americans, now have a common fund ofglorious memories. We are the richer for each grim campaign, for eachhard-fought battle. We are the richer for valor displayed alike bythose who fought so valiantly for the right, and by those who, no lessvaliantly, fought for what they deemed the right. We have in us noblercapacities for what is great and good because of the infinite woe andsuffering, and because of the splendid ultimate triumph. We hold that itwas vital to the welfare, not only of our people on this continent, butof the whole human race, that the Union should be preserved and slaveryabolished; that one flag should fly from the Great Lakes to the RioGrande; that we should all be free in fact as well as in name, and thatthe United States should stand as one nation--the greatest nation on theearth. But we recognize gladly that, South as well as North, when thefight was once on, the leaders of the armies, and the soldiers whom theyled, displayed the same qualities of daring and steadfast courage, ofdisinterested loyalty and enthusiasm, and of high devotion to an ideal. 

The greatest general of the South was Lee, and his greatest lieutenantwas Jackson. Both were Virginians, and both were strongly opposed todisunion. Lee went so far as to deny the right of secession, whileJackson insisted that the South ought to try to get its rights insidethe Union, and not outside. But when Virginia joined the SouthernConfederacy, and the war had actually begun, both men cast their lotwith the South. 

It is often said that the Civil War was in one sense a repetition ofthe old struggle between the Puritan and the Cavalier; but Puritan andCavalier types were common to the two armies. In dash and light-hearteddaring, Custer and Kearney stood as conspicuous as Stuart and Morgan;and, on the other hand, no Northern general approached the Roundheadtype--the type of the stern, religious warriors who fought underCromwell--so closely as Stonewall Jackson. He was a man of intensereligious conviction, who carried into every thought and deed of hisdaily life the precepts of the faith he cherished. He was a tender andloving husband and father, kindhearted and gentle to all with whom hewas brought in contact; yet in the times that tried men's souls, heproved not only a commander of genius, but a fighter of iron will andtemper, who joyed in the battle, and always showed at his best whenthe danger was greatest. The vein of fanaticism that ran through hischaracter helped to render him a terrible opponent. He knew no such wordas falter, and when he had once put his hand to a piece of work, he didit thoroughly and with all his heart. It was quite in keeping with hischaracter that this gentle, high-minded, and religious man should, earlyin the contest, have proposed to hoist the black flag, neither take norgive quarter, and make the war one of extermination. No such policy waspractical in the nineteenth century and in the American Republic; but itwould have seemed quite natural and proper to Jackson's ancestors, thegrim Scotch-Irish, who defended Londonderry against the forces of theStuart king, or to their forefathers, the Covenanters of Scotland, andthe Puritans who in England rejoiced at the beheading of King Charles I. 

In the first battle in which Jackson took part, the confused struggle atBull Run, he gained his name of Stonewall from the firmness with whichhe kept his men to their work and repulsed the attack of the Uniontroops. From that time until his death, less than two years afterward, his career was one of brilliant and almost uninterrupted success;whether serving with an independent command in the Valley, or actingunder Lee as his right arm in the pitched battles with McClellan, Pope, and Burnside. Few generals as great as Lee have ever had as great alieutenant as Jackson. He was a master of strategy and tactics, fearlessof responsibility, able to instil into his men his own intense ardorin battle, and so quick in his movements, so ready to march as well asfight, that his troops were known to the rest of the army as the "footcavalry. "

In the spring of 1863 Hooker had command of the Army of the Potomac. Like McClellan, he was able to perfect the discipline of his forcesand to organize them, and as a division commander he was betterthan McClellan, but he failed even more signally when given a greatindependent command. He had under him 120, 000 men when, toward theend of April, he prepared to attack Lee's army, which was but half asstrong. 

The Union army lay opposite Fredericksburg, looking at the fortifiedheights where they had received so bloody a repulse at the beginning ofthe winter. Hooker decided to distract the attention of the Confederatesby letting a small portion of his force, under General Sedgwick, attackFredericksburg, while he himself took the bulk of the army across theriver to the right hand so as to crush Lee by an assault on his flank. All went well at the beginning, and on the first of May Hooker foundhimself at Chancellorsville, face-to-face with the bulk of Lee'sforces; and Sedgwick, crossing the river and charging with the utmostdetermination, had driven out of Fredericksburg the Confederate divisionof Early; but when Hooker found himself in front of Lee he hesitated, faltered instead of pushing on, and allowed the consummate general towhom he was opposed to take the initiative. 

Lee fully realized his danger, and saw that his only chance was, firstto beat back Hooker, and then to turn and overwhelm Sedgwick, who was inhis rear. He consulted with Jackson, and Jackson begged to be allowedto make one of his favorite flank attacks upon the Union army; attackswhich could have been successfully delivered only by a skilled andresolute general, and by troops equally able to march and to fight. Leeconsented, and Jackson at once made off. The country was thickly coveredwith a forest of rather small growth, for it was a wild region, in whichthere was still plenty of game. Shielded by the forest, Jackson marchedhis gray columns rapidly to the left along the narrow country roadsuntil he was square on the flank of the Union right wing, which was heldby the Eleventh Corps, under Howard. The Union scouts got track of themovement and reported it at headquarters, but the Union generals thoughtthe Confederates were retreating; and when finally the scouts broughtword to Howard that he was menaced by a flank attack he paid no heed tothe information, and actually let his whole corps be surprised in broaddaylight. Yet all the while the battle was going on elsewhere, andBerdan's sharpshooters had surrounded and captured a Georgia regiment, from which information was received showing definitely that Jackson wasnot retreating, and must be preparing to strike a heavy blow. 

The Eleventh Corps had not the slightest idea that it was about to beassailed. The men were not even in line. Many of them had stacked theirmuskets and were lounging about, some playing cards, others cookingsupper, intermingled with the pack-mules and beef cattle. While theywere thus utterly unprepared Jackson's gray-clad veterans pushedstraight through the forest and rushed fiercely to the attack. The firstnotice the troops of the Eleventh Corps received did not come from thepickets, but from the deer, rabbits and foxes which, fleeing from theircoverts at the approach of the Confederates, suddenly came running overand into the Union lines. In another minute the frightened pickets cametumbling back, and right behind them came the long files of charging, yelling Confederates; With one fierce rush Jackson's men swept overthe Union lines, and at a blow the Eleventh Corps became a horde ofpanicstruck fugitives. Some of the regiments resisted for a few moments, and then they too were carried away in the flight. 

For a while it seemed as if the whole army would be swept off; butHooker and his subordinates exerted every effort to restore order. Itwas imperative to gain time so that the untouched portions of the armycould form across the line of the Confederate advance. 

Keenan's regiment of Pennsylvania cavalry, but four hundred sabersstrong, was accordingly sent full against the front of the ten thousandvictorious Confederates. 

Keenan himself fell, pierced by bayonets, and the charge was repulsedat once; but a few priceless moments had been saved, and Pleasanton hadbeen given time to post twenty-two guns, loaded with double canister, where they would bear upon the enemy. 

The Confederates advanced in a dense mass, yelling and cheering, and thedischarge of the guns fairly blew them back across the work's they hadjust taken. Again they charged, and again were driven back; and when thebattle once more began the Union reinforcements had arrived. 

It was about this time that Jackson himself was mortally wounded. He hadbeen leading and urging on the advance of his men, cheering them withvoice and gesture, his pale face flushed with joy and excitement, while from time to time as he sat on his horse he took off his hat and, looking upward, thanked heaven for the victory it had vouchsafed him. As darkness drew near he was in the front, where friend and foe weremingled in almost inextricable confusion. He and his staff were firedat, at close range, by the Union troops, and, as they turned, were firedat again, through a mistake, by the Confederates behind them. Jacksonfell, struck in several places. He was put in a litter and carried back;but he never lost consciousness, and when one of his generals complainedof the terrible effect of the Union cannonade he answered:

"You must hold your ground. "

For several days he lingered, hearing how Lee beat Hooker, in detail, and forced him back across the river. Then the old Puritan died. At theend his mind wandered, and he thought he was again commanding in battle, and his last words were. 

"Let us cross over the river and rest in the shade. "

Thus perished Stonewall Jackson, one of the ablest of soldiers and oneof the most upright of men, in the last of his many triumphs. 

THE CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG

 For the Lord On the whirlwind is abroad; In the earthquake he has spoken; He has smitten with his thunder The iron walls asunder, And the gates of brass are broken! --Whittier

 With bray of the trumpet, And roll of the drum, And keen ring of bugle The cavalry come: Sharp clank the steel scabbards, The bridle-chains ring, And foam from red nostrils The wild chargers fling!

 Tramp, tramp o'er the greensward That quivers below, Scarce held by the curb bit The fierce horses go! And the grim-visaged colonel, With ear-rending shout, Peals forth to the squadrons The order, "Trot Out"! --Francis A. Durivage. 

The battle of Chancellorsville marked the zenith of Confederate goodfortune. Immediately afterward, in June, 1863, Lee led the victoriousarmy of Northern Virginia into Pennsylvania. The South was now theinvader, not the invaded, and its heart beat proudly with hopes ofsuccess; but these hopes went down in bloody wreck on July 4, when wordwas sent to the world that the high valor of Virginia had failed at laston the field of Gettysburg, and that in the far West Vicksburg had beentaken by the army of the "silent soldier. "

At Gettysburg Lee had under him some seventy thousand men, and hisopponent, Meade, about ninety thousand. Both armies were composed mainlyof seasoned veterans, trained to the highest point by campaign aftercampaign and battle after battle; and there was nothing to choosebetween them as to the fighting power of the rank and file. The Unionarmy was the larger, yet most of the time it stood on the defensive;for the difference between the generals, Lee and Meade, was greaterthan could be bridged by twenty thousand men. For three days the battleraged. No other battle of recent time has been so obstinate and sobloody. The victorious Union army lost a greater percentage in killedand wounded than the allied armies of England, Germany, and theNetherlands lost at Waterloo. Four of its seven corps suffered each agreater relative loss than befell the world-renowned British infantryon the day that saw the doom of the French emperor. The defeatedConfederates at Gettysburg lost, relatively, as many men as the defeatedFrench at Waterloo; but whereas the French army became a mere rabble, Lee withdrew his formidable soldiery with their courage unbroken, andtheir fighting power only diminished by their actual losses in thefield. 

The decisive moment of the battle, and perhaps of the whole war, wasin the afternoon of the third day, when Lee sent forward his choicesttroops in a last effort to break the middle of the Union line. Thecenter of the attacking force was Pickett's division, the flower of theVirginia infantry; but many other brigades took part in the assault, andthe column, all told, numbered over fifteen thousand men. At the sametime, the Confederates attacked the Union left to create a diversion. The attack was preceded by a terrific cannonade, Lee gathering onehundred and fifteen guns, and opening a fire on the center of the Unionline. In response, Hunt, the Union chief of artillery, and Tyler, ofthe artillery reserves, gathered eighty guns on the crest of the gentlysloping hill, where attack was threatened. For two hours, from one tillthree, the cannonade lasted, and the batteries on both sides sufferedseverely. In both the Union and Confederate lines caissons were blown upby the fire, riderless horses dashed hither and thither, the dead lay inheaps, and throngs of wounded streamed to the rear. Every man lay downand sought what cover he could. It was evident that the Confederatecannonade was but a prelude to a great infantry attack, and at threeo'clock Hunt ordered the fire to stop, that the guns might cool, to beready for the coming assault. The Confederates thought that they hadsilenced the hostile artillery, and for a few minutes their firingcontinued; then, suddenly, it ceased, and there was a lull. 

The men on the Union side who were not at the point directly menacedpeered anxiously across the space between the lines to watch the nextmove, while the men in the divisions which it was certain were aboutto be assaulted, lay hugging the ground and gripping their muskets, excited, but confident and resolute. They saw the smoke clouds riseslowly from the opposite crest, where the Confederate army lay, and thesunlight glinted again on the long line of brass and iron guns which hadbeen hidden from view during the cannonade. In another moment, out ofthe lifting smoke there appeared, beautiful and terrible, the pickedthousands of the Southern army coming on to the assault. They advancedin three lines, each over a mile long, and in perfect order. Pickett'sVirginians held the center, with on their left the North Caroliniansof Pender and Pettigrew, and on their right the Alabama regiments ofWilcox; and there were also Georgian and Tennessee regiments in theattacking force. Pickett's division, however, was the only one able topress its charge home. After leaving the woods where they started, theConfederates had nearly a mile and a half to go in their charge. As theVirginians moved, they bent slightly to the left, so as to leave a gapbetween them and the Alabamians on the right. 

The Confederate lines came on magnificently. As they crossed theEmmetsburg Pike the eighty guns on the Union crest, now cool and in goodshape, opened upon them, first with shot and then with shell. Great gapswere made every second in the ranks, but the gray-clad soldiers closedup to the center, and the color-bearers leaped to the front, shakingand waving the flags. The Union infantry reserved their fire until theConfederates were within easy range, when the musketry crashed out witha roar, and the big guns began to fire grape and canister. On came theConfederates, the men falling by hundreds, the colors fluttering infront like a little forest; for as fast as a color-bearer was shotsome one else seized the flag from his hand before it fell. The NorthCarolinians were more exposed to the fire than any other portion ofthe attacking force, and they were broken before they reached the line. There was a gap between the Virginians and the Alabama troops, and thiswas taken advantage of by Stannard's Vermont brigade and a demi-brigadeunder Gates, of the 20th New York, who were thrust forward into it. Stannard changed front with his regiments and fell on Pickett's forcesin flank, and Gates continued the attack. When thus struck in the flank, the Virginians could not defend themselves, and they crowded off towardthe center to avoid the pressure. Many of them were killed or captured;many were driven back; but two of the brigades, headed by GeneralArmistead, forced their way forward to the stone wall on the crest, where the Pennsylvania regiments were posted under Gibbon and Webb. 

The Union guns fired to the last moment, until of the two batteriesimmediately in front of the charging Virginians every officer but onehad been struck. One of the mortally wounded officers was young Cushing, a brother of the hero of the Albemarle fight. He was almost cut in two, but holding his body together with one hand, with the other he fired hislast gun, and fell dead, just as Armistead, pressing forward at the headof his men, leaped the wall, waving his hat on his sword. Immediatelyafterward the battle-flags of the foremost Confederate regiments crownedthe crest; but their strength was spent. The Union troops moved forwardwith the bayonet, and the remnant of Pickett's division, attacked on allsides, either surrendered or retreated down the hill again. Armisteadfell, dying, by the body of the dead Cushing. Both Gibbon and Webbwere wounded. Of Pickett's command two thirds were killed, wounded orcaptured, and every brigade commander and every field officer, save one, fell. The Virginians tried to rally, but were broken and driven againby Gates, while Stannard repeated, at the expense of the Alabamians, themovement he had made against the Virginians, and, reversing his front, attacked them in flank. Their lines were torn by the batteries in front, and they fell back before the Vermonter's attack, and Stannard reaped arich harvest of prisoners and of battle-flags. 

The charge was over. It was the greatest charge in any battle ofmodern times, and it had failed. It would be impossible to surpassthe gallantry of those that made it, or the gallantry of those thatwithstood it. Had there been in command of the Union army a generallike Grant, it would have been followed by a counter-charge, and in allprobability the war would have been shortened by nearly two years; butno countercharge was made. 

As the afternoon waned, a fierce cavalry fight took place on the Unionright. Stuart, the famous Confederate cavalry commander, had movedforward to turn the Union right, but he was met by Gregg's cavalry, andthere followed a contest, at close quarters, with "the white arm. " Itclosed with a desperate melee, in which the Confederates, charged underGenerals Wade Hampton and Fitz Lee, were met in mid career by the Uniongenerals Custer and McIntosh. All four fought, saber in hand, at thehead of their troopers, and every man on each side was put into thestruggle. Custer, his yellow hair flowing, his face aflame with theeager joy of battle, was in the thick of the fight, rising in hisstirrups as he called to his famous Michigan swordsmen: "Come on, youWolverines, come on!" All that the Union infantry, watching eagerlyfrom their lines, could see, was a vast dust-cloud where flakes oflight shimmered as the sun shone upon the swinging sabers. At last theConfederate horsemen were beaten back, and they did not come forwardagain or seek to renew the combat; for Pickett's charge had failed, andthere was no longer hope of Confederate victory. 

When night fell, the Union flags waved in triumph on the field ofGettysburg; but over thirty thousand men lay dead or wounded, strewnthrough wood and meadow, on field and hill, where the three days' fighthad surged. 

GENERAL GRANT AND THE VICKSBURG CAMPAIGN

 What flag is this you carry Along the sea and shore? The same our grandsires lifted up-- The same our fathers bore. In many a battle's tempest It shed the crimson rain-- What God has woven in his loom Let no man rend in twain. To Canaan, to Canaan, The Lord has led us forth, To plant upon the rebel towers The banners of the North. --Holmes. 

On January 29, 1863, General Grant took command of the army intendedto operate against Vicksburg, the last place held by the rebels on theMississippi, and the only point at which they could cross the river andkeep up communication with their armies and territory in the southwest. It was the first high ground below Memphis, was very strongly fortified, and was held by a large army under General Pemberton. The completepossession of the Mississippi was absolutely essential to the NationalGovernment, because the control of that great river would cut theConfederacy in two, and do more, probably, than anything else, to makethe overthrow of the Rebellion both speedy and certain. 

The natural way to invest and capture so strong a place, defended andfortified as Vicksburg was, would have been, if the axioms of the artof war had been adhered to, by a system of gradual approaches. A strongbase should have been established at Memphis, and then the army and thefleet moved gradually forward, building storehouses and taking strongpositions as they went. To do this, however, it first would have beennecessary to withdraw the army from the positions it then held not farabove Vicksburg, on the western bank of the river. But such a movement, at that time, would not have been understood by the country, and wouldhave had a discouraging effect on the public mind, which it wasmost essential to avoid. The elections of 1862 had gone against thegovernment, and there was great discouragement throughout the North. Voluntary enlistments had fallen off, a draft had been ordered, and thepeace party was apparently gaining rapidly in strength. General Grant, looking at this grave political situation with the eye of a statesman, decided, as a soldier, that under no circumstances would he withdraw thearmy, but that, whatever happened, he would "press forward to a decisivevictory. " In this determination he never faltered, but drove straightat his object until, five months later, the great Mississippi strongholdfell before him. 

Efforts were made through the winter to reach Vicksburg from the northby cutting canals, and by attempts to get in through the bayous andtributary streams of the great river. All these expedients failed, however, one after another, as Grant, from the beginning, had fearedthat they would. He, therefore, took another and widely different line, and determined to cross the river from the western to the eastern bankbelow Vicksburg, to the south. With the aid of the fleet, which ran thebatteries successfully, he moved his army down the west bank until hereached a point beyond the possibility of attack, while a diversionby Sherman at Haines' Bluff, above Vicksburg, kept Pemberton in hisfortifications. On April 26, Grant began to move his men over the riverand landed them at Bruinsburg. "When this was effected, " he writes, "Ifelt a degree of relief scarcely ever equaled since. Vicksburg was notyet taken, it is true, nor were its defenders demoralized by any of ourprevious movements. I was now in the enemy's country, with a vast riverand the stronghold of Vicksburg between me and my base of supplies, butI was on dry ground, on the same side of the river with the enemy. "

The situation was this: The enemy had about sixty thousand men atVicksburg, Haines' Bluff, and at Jackson, Mississippi, about fiftymiles east of Vicksburg. Grant, when he started, had about thirty-threethousand men. It was absolutely necessary for success that Grant, withinferior numbers, should succeed in destroying the smaller forces tothe eastward, and thus prevent their union with Pemberton and themain army at Vicksburg. His plan, in brief; was to fight and defeat asuperior enemy separately and in detail. He lost no time in putting hisplan into action, and pressing forward quickly, met a detachment of theenemy at Port Gibson and defeated them. Thence he marched to Grand Gulf, on the Mississippi, which he took, and which he had planned to make abase of supply. When he reached Grand Gulf, however, he found that hewould be obliged to wait a month, in order to obtain the reinforcementswhich he expected from General Banks at Port Hudson. He, therefore, gaveup the idea of making Grand Gulf a base, and Sherman having now joinedhim with his corps, Grant struck at once into the interior. He tooknothing with him except ammunition, and his army was in the lightestmarching order. This enabled him to move with great rapidity, butdeprived him of his wagon trains, and of all munitions of war exceptcartridges. Everything, however, in this campaign, depended onquickness, and Grant's decision, as well as all his movements, markedthe genius of the great soldier, which consists very largely in knowingjust when to abandon the accepted military axioms. 

Pressing forward, Grant met the enemy, numbering between seven and eightthousand, at Raymond, and readily defeated them. He then marched ontoward Jackson, fighting another action at Clinton, and at Jackson hestruck General Joseph Johnston, who had arrived at that point to takecommand of all the rebel forces. Johnston had with him, at the moment, about eleven thousand men, and stood his ground. There was a sharpfight, but Grant easily defeated the enemy, and took possession of thetown. This was an important point, for Jackson was the capital ofthe State of Mississippi, and was a base of military supplies. Grantdestroyed the factories and the munitions of war which were gatheredthere, and also came into possession of the line of railroad which ranfrom Jackson to Vicksburg. While he was thus engaged, an interceptedmessage revealed to him the fact that Pemberton, in accordance withJohnston's orders, had come out of Vicksburg with twenty-five thousandmen, and was moving eastward against him. Pemberton, however, insteadof holding a straight line against Grant, turned at first to the south, with the view of breaking the latter's line of communication. This wasnot a success, for, as Grant says, with grim humor, "I had no line ofcommunication to break"; and, moreover, it delayed Pemberton when delaywas of value to Grant in finishing Johnston. After this useless turn tothe southward Pemberton resumed his march to the east, as he should havedone in the beginning, in accordance with Johnston's orders; but Grantwas now more than ready. He did not wait the coming of Pemberton. Leaving Jackson as soon as he heard of the enemy's advance fromVicksburg, he marched rapidly westward and struck Pemberton at ChampionHills. The forces were at this time very nearly matched, and theseverest battle of the campaign ensued, lasting four hours. Grant, however, defeated Pemberton completely, and came very near capturinghis entire force. With a broken army, Pemberton fell back on Vicksburg. Grant pursued without a moment's delay, and came up with the rear guardat Big Black River. A sharp engagement followed, and the Confederateswere again defeated. Grant then crossed the Big Black and the next daywas before Vicksburg, with his enemy inside the works. 

When Grant crossed the Mississippi at Bruinsburg and struck into theinterior, he, of course, passed out of communication with Washington, and he did not hear from there again until May 11, when, just as histroops were engaging in the battle of Black River Bridge, an officerappeared from Port Hudson with an order from General Halleck to returnto Grand Gulf and thence cooperate with Banks against Port Hudson. Grant replied that the order came too late. "The bearer of the despatchinsisted that I ought to obey the order, and was giving arguments tosupport the position, when I heard a great cheering to the right of ourline, and looking in that direction, saw Lawler, in his shirt-sleeves, leading a charge on the enemy. I immediately mounted my horse and rodein the direction of the charge, and saw no more of the officer who haddelivered the message; I think not even to this day. " When Grant reachedVicksburg, there was no further talk of recalling him to Grand Gulf orPort Hudson. The authorities at Washington then saw plainly enough whathad been done in the interior of Mississippi, far from the reach oftelegraphs or mail. 

As soon as the National troops reached Vicksburg an assault wasattempted, but the place was too strong, and the attack was repulsed, with heavy loss. Grant then settled down to a siege, and Lincoln andHalleck now sent him ample reinforcements. He no longer needed to askfor them. His campaign had explained itself, and in a short time hehad seventy thousand men under his command. His lines were soon made sostrong that it was impossible for the defenders of Vicksburg to breakthrough them, and although Johnston had gathered troops again to theeastward, an assault from that quarter on the National army, now solargely reinforced, was practically out of the question. Tighter andtighter Grant drew his lines about the city, where, every day, thesuffering became more intense. It is not necessary to give the detailsof the siege. On July 4, 1863, Vicksburg surrendered, the Mississippiwas in control of the National forces from its source to its mouth, andthe Confederacy was rent in twain. On the same day Lee was beaten atGettysburg, and these two great victories really crushed the Rebellion, although much hard fighting remained to be done before the end wasreached. 

Grant's campaign against Vicksburg deserves to be compared with that ofNapoleon which resulted in the fall of Ulm. It was the most brilliantsingle campaign of the war. With an inferior force, and abandoninghis lines of communication, moving with a marvelous rapidity through adifficult country, Grant struck the superior forces of the enemy on theline from Jackson to Vicksburg. He crushed Johnston before Pembertoncould get to him, and he flung Pemberton back into Vicksburg beforeJohnston could rally from the defeat which had been inflicted. With aninferior force, Grant was superior at every point of contest, and he wonevery fight. Measured by the skill displayed and the result achieved, there is no campaign in our history which better deserves study andadmiration. 

ROBERT GOULD SHAW

 Brave, good, and true, I see him stand before me now, And read again on that young brow, Where every hope was new, HOW SWEET WERE LIFE! Yet, by the mouth firm-set, And look made up for Duty's utmost debt, I could divine he knew That death within the sulphurous hostile lines, In the mere wreck of nobly-pitched designs, Plucks hearts-ease, and not rue. 

 Right in the van, On the red ramparts slippery swell, With heart that beat a charge, he fell, Foeward, as fits a man; But the high soul burns on to light men's feet Where death for noble ends makes dying sweet; His life her crescent's span Orbs full with share in their undarkening days Who ever climbed the battailous steeps of praise Since valor's praise began. 

 We bide our chance, Unhappy, and make terms with Fate A little more to let us wait; He leads for aye the advance, Hope's forlorn-hopes that plant the desperate good For nobler Earths and days of manlier mood; Our wall of circumstance Cleared at a bound, he flashes o'er the fight, A saintly shape of fame, to cheer the right And steel each wavering glance. 

 I write of one, While with dim eyes I think of three; Who weeps not others fair and brave as he? Ah, when the fight is won, Dear Land, whom triflers now make bold to scorn (Thee from whose forehead Earth awaits her morn), How nobler shall the sun Flame in thy sky, how braver breathe thy air, That thou bred'st children who for thee could dare And die as thine have done. --Lowell. 

Robert Gould Shaw was born in Boston on October 10, 1837, the son ofFrancis and Sarah Sturgis Shaw. When he was about nine years old, hisparents moved to Staten Island, and he was educated there, and at schoolin the neighborhood of New York, until he went to Europe in 1853, wherehe remained traveling and studying for the next three years. He enteredHarvard College in 1856, and left at the end of his third year, in orderto accept an advantageous business offer in New York. 

Even as a boy he took much interest in politics, and especially in thequestion of slavery. He voted for Lincoln in 1860, and at that timeenlisted as a private in the New York 7th Regiment, feeling that therewas likelihood of trouble, and that there would be a demand for soldiersto defend the country. His foresight was justified only too soon, and onApril 19, 1861, he marched with his regiment to Washington. The call forthe 7th Regiment was only for thirty days, and at the expiration of thatservice he applied for and obtained a commission as second lieutenant inthe 2d Massachusetts, and left with that regiment for Virginia in July, 1861. He threw himself eagerly into his new duties, and soon gaineda good position in the regiment. At Cedar Mountain he was an aid onGeneral Gordon's staff, and was greatly exposed in the performance ofhis duties during the action. He was also with his regiment at Antietam, and was in the midst of the heavy fighting of that great battle. 

Early in 1863, the Government determined to form negro regiments, andGovernor Andrew offered Shaw, who had now risen to the rank of captain, the colonelcy of one to be raised in Massachusetts, the first blackregiment recruited under State authority. It was a great compliment toreceive this offer, but Shaw hesitated as to his capacity for such aresponsible post. He first wrote a letter declining, on the ground thathe did not feel that he had ability enough for the undertaking, and thenchanged his mind, and telegraphed Governor Andrew that he would accept. It is not easy to realize it now, but his action then in accepting thiscommand required high moral courage, of a kind quite different from thatwhich he had displayed already on the field of battle. The prejudiceagainst the blacks was still strong even in the North. There was a greatdeal of feeling among certain classes against enlisting black regimentsat all, and the officers who undertook to recruit and lead negroes were. Exposed to much attack and criticism. Shaw felt, however, that this veryopposition made it all the more incumbent on him to undertake the duty. He wrote on February 8:

After I have undertaken this work, I shall feel that what I have to dois to prove that the negro can be made a good soldier. .. . I am inclinedto think that the undertaking will not meet with so much opposition aswas at first supposed. All sensible men in the army, of all parties, after a little thought, say that it is the best thing that can be done, and surely those at home who are not brave or patriotic enough to enlistshould not ridicule or throw obstacles in the way of men who are goingto fight for them. There is a great prejudice against it, but now thatit has become a government matter, that will probably wear away. Atany rate I sha'n't be frightened out of it by its unpopularity. I feelconvinced I shall never regret having taken this step, as far as Imyself am concerned; for while I was undecided, I felt ashamed of myselfas if I were cowardly. 

Colonel Shaw went at once to Boston, after accepting his new duty, andbegan the work of raising and drilling the 54th Regiment. He met withgreat success, for he and his officers labored heart and soul, and theregiment repaid their efforts. On March 30, he wrote: "The musteringofficer who was here to-day is a Virginian, and has always thought itwas a great joke to try to make soldiers of 'niggers, ' but he tells menow that he has never mustered in so fine a set of men, though abouttwenty thousand had passed through his hands since September. " On May28, Colonel Shaw left Boston, and his march through the city was atriumph. The appearance of his regiment made a profound impression, andwas one of the events of the war which those who saw it never forgot. 

The regiment was ordered to South Carolina, and when they were off CapeHatteras, Colonel Shaw wrote:

The more I think of the passage of the 54th through Boston, the morewonderful it seems to me just remember our own doubts and fears, andother people's sneering and pitying remarks when we began last winter, and then look at the perfect triumph of last Thursday. We have gonequietly along, forming the first regiment, and at last left Bostonamidst greater enthusiasm than has been seen since the first threemonths' troops left for the war. Truly, I ought to be thankful forall my happiness and my success in life so far; and if the raising ofcolored troops prove such a benefit to the country and to the blacks asmany people think it will, I shall thank God a thousand times that I wasled to take my share in it. 

He had, indeed, taken his share in striking one of the most fatal blowsto the barbarism of slavery which had yet been struck. The formation ofthe black regiments did more for the emancipation of the negro and therecognition of his rights, than almost anything else. It was impossible, after that, to say that men who fought and gave their lives for theUnion and for their own freedom were not entitled to be free. Theacceptance of the command of a black regiment by such men as Shaw andhis fellow-officers was the great act which made all this possible. 

After reaching South Carolina, Colonel Shaw was with his regiment atPort Royal and on the islands of that coast for rather more than amonth, and on July 18 he was offered the post of honor in an assaultupon Fort Wagner, which was ordered for that night. He had proved thatthe negroes could be made into a good regiment, and now the second greatopportunity had come, to prove their fighting quality. He wanted todemonstrate that his men could fight side by side with white soldiers, and show to somebody beside their officers what stuff they were made of. He, therefore, accepted the dangerous duty with gladness. Late in theday the troops were marched across Folly and Morris islands and formedin line of battle within six hundred yards of Fort Wagner. At half-pastseven the order for the charge was given, and the regiment advanced. When they were within a hundred yards of the fort, the rebel fire openedwith such effect that the first battalion hesitated and wavered. ColonelShaw sprang to the front, and waving his sword, shouted: "Forward, 54th!" With another cheer, the men rushed through the ditch, and gaineda parapet on the right. Colonel Shaw was one of the first to scale thewalls. As he stood erect, a noble figure, ordering his men forward andshouting to them to press on, he was shot dead and fell into the fort. After his fall, the assault was repulsed. 

General Haywood, commanding the rebel forces, said to a Union prisoner:"I knew Colonel Shaw before the war, and then esteemed him. Had he beenin command of white troops, I should have given him an honorable burial. As it is, I shall bury him in the common trench, with the negroes thatfell with him. " He little knew that he was giving the dead soldier themost honorable burial that man could have devised, for the savage wordstold unmistakably that Robert Shaw's work had not been in vain. Theorder to bury him with his "niggers, " which ran through the North andremained fixed in our history, showed, in a flash of light, the hideousbarbarism of a system which made such things and such feelings possible. It also showed that slavery was wounded to the death, and that thebrutal phrase was the angry snarl of a dying tiger. Such words rank withthe action of Charles Stuart, when he had the bones of Oliver Cromwelland Robert Blake torn from their graves and flung on dunghills or fixedon Temple Bar. 

Robert Shaw fell in battle at the head of his men, giving his life tohis country, as did many another gallant man during those four years ofconflict. But he did something more than this. He faced prejudice andhostility in the North, and confronted the blind and savage rage of theSouth, in order to demonstrate to the world that the human beings whowere held in bondage could vindicate their right to freedom by fightingand dying for it. He helped mightily in the great task of destroyinghuman slavery, and in uplifting an oppressed and down-trodden race. Hebrought to this work the qualities which were particularly essential forhis success. He had all that birth and wealth, breeding, education, andtradition could give. He offered up, in full measure, all those thingswhich make life most worth living. He was handsome and beloved. He had aserene and beautiful nature, and was at once brave and simple. Aboveall things, he was fitted for the task which he performed and for thesacrifice which he made. The call of the country and of the time cameto him, and he was ready. He has been singled out for remembrance fromamong many others of equal sacrifice, and a monument is rising to hismemory in Boston, because it was his peculiar fortune to live and diefor a great principle of humanity, and to stand forth as an ideal andbeautiful figure in a struggle where the onward march of civilizationwas at stake. He lived in those few and crowded years a heroic life, andhe met a heroic death. When he fell, sword in hand, on the parapet ofWagner, leading his black troops in a desperate assault, we can only sayof him as Bunyan said of "Valiant for Truth": "And then he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side. "

CHARLES RUSSELL LOWELL

 Wut's wurds to them whose faith an' truth On war's red techstone rang true metal, Who ventered life an' love an, youth For the gret prize o' death in battle?

 To him who, deadly hurt, agen Flashed on afore the charge's thunder, Tippin' with fire the bolt of men Thet rived the rebel line asunder? --Lowell. 

Charles Russell Lowell was born in Boston, January 2, 1835. He was theeldest son of Charles Russell and Anna Cabot (Jackson) Lowell, and thenephew of James Russell Lowell. He bore the name, distinguished in manybranches, of a family which was of the best New England stock. Educatedin the Boston public schools, he entered Harvard College in 1850. Although one of the youngest members of his class, he went rapidly tothe front, and graduated not only the first scholar of his year, butthe foremost man of his class. He was, however, much more than a finescholar, for even then he showed unusual intellectual qualities. He readwidely and loved letters. He was a student of philosophy and religion, athinker, and, best of all, a man of ideals--"the glory of youth, " ashe called them in his valedictory oration. But he was something stillbetter and finer than a mere idealist; he was a man of action, eager toput his ideals into practice and bring them to the test of daily life. With his mind full of plans for raising the condition of workingmenwhile he made his own career, he entered the iron mills of the AmesCompany, at Chicopee. Here he remained as a workingman for six months, and then received an important post in the Trenton Iron Works of NewJersey. There his health broke down. Consumption threatened him, and allhis bright hopes and ambitions were overcast and checked. He was obligedto leave his business and go to Europe, where he traveled for two years, fighting the dread disease that was upon him. In 1858 he returned, andtook a position on a Western railroad. Although the work was new tohim, he manifested the same capacity that he had always shown, and moreespecially his power over other men and his ability in organization. Intwo years his health was reestablished, and in 1860 he took charge ofthe Mount Savage Iron Works, at Cumberland, Maryland. He was therewhen news came of the attack made by the mob upon the 6th MassachusettsRegiment, in Baltimore. Two days later he had made his way toWashington, one of the first comers from the North, and at once appliedfor a commission in the regular army. While he was waiting, he employedhimself in looking after the Massachusetts troops, and also, it isunderstood, as a scout for the Government, dangerous work which suitedhis bold and adventurous nature. 

In May he received his commission as captain in the United Statescavalry. Employed at first in recruiting and then in drill, he gavehimself up to the study of tactics and the science of war. The careerabove all others to which he was suited had come to him. The field, atlast, lay open before him, where all his great qualities of mind andheart, his high courage, his power of leadership and of organization, andhis intellectual powers could find full play. He moved rapidly forward, just as he had already done in college and in business. His regiment, in 1862, was under Stoneman in the Peninsula, and was engaged in manyactions, where Lowell's cool bravery made him constantly conspicuous. At the close of the campaign he was brevetted major, for distinguishedservices at Williamsburg and Slatersville. 

In July, Lowell was detailed for duty as an aid to General McClellan. At Malvern Hill and South Mountain his gallantry and efficiency werestrongly shown, but it was at Antietam that he distinguished himselfmost. Sent with orders to General Sedgwick's division, he found itretreating in confusion, under a hot fire. He did not stop to thinkof orders, but rode rapidly from point to point of the line, rallyingcompany after company by the mere force and power of his word and look, checking the rout, while the storm of bullets swept all round him. Hishorse was shot under him, a ball passed through his coat, anotherbroke his sword-hilt, but he came off unscathed, and his service wasrecognized by his being sent to Washington with the captured flags ofthe enemy. 

The following winter he was ordered to Boston, to recruit a regimentof cavalry, of which he was appointed colonel. While the recruiting wasgoing on, a serious mutiny broke out, but the man who, like Cromwell'ssoldiers, "rejoiced greatly" in the day of battle was entirely capableof meeting this different trial. He shot the ringleader dead, and bythe force of his own strong will quelled the outbreak completely and atonce. 

In May, he went to Virginia with his regiment, where he was engaged inresisting and following Mosby, and the following summer he was opposedto General Early in the neighborhood of Washington. On July 14, whenon a reconnoissance his advance guard was surprised, and he met themretreating in wild confusion, with the enemy at their heels. Riding intothe midst of the fugitives, Lowell shouted, "Dismount!" The sharp wordof command, the presence of the man himself, and the magic of disciplineprevailed. The men sprang down, drew up in line, received the enemy, with a heavy fire, and as the assailants wavered, Lowell advanced atonce, and saved the day. 

In July, he was put in command of the "Provisional Brigade, " and joinedthe army of the Shenandoah, of which in August General Sheridan tookcommand. He was so struck with Lowell's work during the next month thatin September he put him in command of the "Reserved Brigade, " a veryfine body of cavalry and artillery. In the fierce and continuousfighting that ensued Lowell was everywhere conspicuous, and in thirteenweeks he had as many horses shot under him. But he now had scope toshow more than the dashing gallantry which distinguished him always andeverywhere. His genuine military ability, which surely would haveled him to the front rank of soldiers had his life been spared, hisknowledge, vigilance, and nerve all now became apparent. One brilliantaction succeeded another, but the end was drawing near. It came atlast on the famous day of Cedar Creek, when Sheridan rode down fromWinchester and saved the battle. Lowell had advanced early in themorning on the right, and his attack prevented the disaster on that wingwhich fell upon the surprised army. He then moved to cover the retreat, and around to the extreme left, where he held his position nearMiddletown against repeated assaults. Early in the day his last horsewas shot under him, and a little later, in a charge at one o'clock, hewas struck in the right breast by a spent ball, which embedded itselfin the muscles of the chest. Voice and strength left him. "It is onlymy poor lung, " he announced, as they urged him to go to the rear; "youwould not have me leave the field without having shed blood. " As amatter of fact, the "poor" lung had collapsed, and there was an internalhemorrhage. He lay thus, under a rude shelter, for an hour and a half, and then came the order to advance along the whole line, the victoriousadvance of Sheridan and the rallied army. Lowell was helped to hissaddle. "I feel well now, " he whispered, and, giving his orders throughone of his staff, had his brigade ready first. Leading the great charge, he dashed forward, and, just when the fight was hottest, a sudden crywent up: "The colonel is hit!" He fell from the saddle, struck in theneck by a ball which severed the spine, and was borne by his officers toa house in the village, where, clear in mind and calm in spirit, he dieda few hours afterward. 

"I do not think there was a quality, " said General Sheridan, "whichI could have added to Lowell. He was the perfection of a man and asoldier. " On October 19, the very day on which he fell, his commissionwas signed to be a brigadier-general. 

This was a noble life and a noble death, worthy of much thought andadmiration from all men. Yet this is not all. It is well for us to seehow such a man looked upon what he was doing, and what it meant to him. Lowell was one of the silent heroes so much commended by Carlyle. Henever wrote of himself or his own exploits. As some one well said, hehad "the impersonality of genius. " But in a few remarkable passagesin his private letters, we can see how the meaning of life and of thatgreat time unrolled itself before his inner eyes. In June, 1861, hewrote:

I cannot say I take any great pleasure in the contemplation of thefuture. I fancy you feel much as I do about the profitableness of asoldier's life, and would not think of trying it, were it not for amuddled and twisted idea that somehow or other this fight was going tobe one in which decent men ought to engage for the sake of humanity, --Iuse the word in its ordinary sense. It seems to me that within a yearthe slavery question will again take a prominent place, and that manycases will arise in which we may get fearfully in the wrong if we putour cause wholly in the hands of fighting men and foreign legions. 

In June, 1863, he wrote:

I wonder whether my theories about self-culture, etc. , would ever havebeen modified so much, whether I should ever have seen what a necessaryfailure they lead to, had it not been for this war. Now I feel everyday, more and more, that a man has no right to himself at all; that, indeed, he can do nothing useful unless he recognizes this clearly. Hereagain, on July 3, is a sentence which it is well to take to heart, andfor all men to remember when their ears are deafened with the cry thatwar, no matter what the cause, is the worst thing possible, because itinterferes with comfort, trade, and money-making: "Wars are bad, " Lowellwrites, "but there are many things far worse. Anything immediatelycomfortable in our affairs I don't see; but comfortable times are notthe ones t hat make a nation great. " On July 24, he says:

Many nations fail, that one may become great; ours will fail, unless wegird up our loins and do humble and honest days' work, without tryingto do the thing by the job, or to get a great nation made by a patentprocess. It is not safe to say that we shall not have victories till weare ready for them. We shall have victories, and whether or no we areready for them depends upon ourselves; if we are not ready, we shallfail, --voila tout. If you ask, what if we do fail? I have nothing tosay; I shouldn't cry over a nation or two, more or less, gone under. 

Finally, on September 10, a little more than a month before his death, he wrote to a disabled officer:

I hope that you are going to live like a plain republican, mindful ofthe beauty and of the duty of simplicity. Nothing fancy now, sir, if youplease; it's disreputable to spend money when the government is sohard up, and when there are so many poor officers. I hope that you haveoutgrown all foolish ambitions, and are now content to become a "usefulcitizen. " Don't grow rich; if you once begin, you will find it muchmore difficult to be a useful citizen. Don't seek office, but don't"disremember" that the "useful citizen" always holds his time, histrouble, his money, and his life ready at the hint of his country. Theuseful citizen is a mighty, unpretending hero; but we are not going tohave any country very long, unless such heroism is developed. There, what a stale sermon I'm preaching. But, being a soldier, it does seem tome that I should like nothing so well as being a useful citizen. Well, trying to be one, I mean. I shall stay in the service, of course, tillthe war is over, or till I'm disabled; but then I look forward to apleasanter career. 

I believe I have lost all my ambitions. I don't think I would turn myhand to be a distinguished chemist or a famous mathematician. All I nowcare about is to be a useful citizen, with money enough to buy breadand firewood, and to teach my children to ride on horseback, and lookstrangers in the face, especially Southern strangers. 

There are profound and lofty lessons of patriotism and conduct in thesepassages, and a very noble philosophy of life and duty both as a manand as a citizen of a great republic. They throw a flood of light onthe great underlying forces which enabled the American people to savethemselves in that time of storm and stress. They are the utterances ofa very young man, not thirty years old when he died in battle, but muchbeyond thirty in head and heart, tried and taught as he had been in agreat war. What precisely such young men thought they were fighting foris put strikingly by Lowell's younger brother James, who was killed atGlendale, July 4, 1862. In 1861, James Lowell wrote to his classmates, who had given him a sword:

Those who died for the cause, not of the Constitution and the laws, --asuperficial cause, the rebels have now the same, --but of civilizationand law, and the self-restrained freedom which is their result. As theGreeks at Marathon and Salamis, Charles Martel and the Franks at Tours, and the Germans at the Danube, saved Europe from Asiatic barbarism, sowe, at places to be famous in future times, shall have saved Americafrom a similar tide of barbarism; and we may hope to be purified andstrengthened ourselves by the struggle. 

This is a remarkable passage and a deep thought. Coming from a youngfellow of twenty-four, it is amazing. But the fiery trial of the timestaught fiercely and fast, and James Lowell, just out of college, couldsee in the red light around him that not merely the freedom of a raceand the saving of a nation were at stake, but that behind all thiswas the forward movement of civilization, brought once again to thearbitrament of the sword. Slavery was barbarous and barbarizing. Ithad dragged down the civilization of the South to a level from which itwould take generations to rise up again. Was this barbarous force nowto prevail in the United States in the nineteenth century? Was it todestroy a great nation, and fetter human progress in the New World? Thatwas the great question back of, beyond and above all. Should this forceof barbarism sweep conquering over the land, wrecking an empire in itsonward march, or should it be flung back as Miltiades flung back Asiaat Marathon, and Charles Martel stayed the coming of Islam at Tours? Thebrilliant career, the shining courage, best seen always where the deadwere lying thickest, the heroic death of Charles Lowell, are good forus all to know and to remember. Yet this imperfect story of his lifehas not been placed here for these things alone. Many thousand others, officers and soldiers alike, in the great Civil War gave their lives asfreely as he, and brought to the service of their country the best thatwas in them. He was a fine example of many who, like him, offered upall they had for their country. But Lowell was also something morethan this. He was a high type of a class, and a proof of certain veryimportant things, and this is a point worthy of much consideration. 

The name of John Hampden stands out in the history of theEnglish-speaking people, admired and unquestioned. He was neither agreat statesman, nor a great soldier; he was not a brilliant orator, nora famous writer. He fell bravely in an unimportant skirmish at ChalgroveField, fighting for freedom and what he believed to be right. Yet hefills a great place in the past, both for what he did and what hewas, and the reason for this is of high importance. John Hampden wasa gentleman, with all the advantages that the accidents of birth couldgive. He was rich, educated, well born, of high traditions. Englishcivilization of that day could produce nothing better. The memorablefact is that, when the time came for the test, he did not fail. He wasa type of what was best among the English people, and when the callsounded, he was ready. He was brave, honest, high-minded, and hegave all, even his life, to his country. In the hour of need, therepresentative of what was best and most fortunate in England was put tothe touch, and proved to be current gold. All men knew what that meant, and Hampden's memory is one of the glories of the English-speakingpeople. 

Charles Lowell has the same meaning for us when rightly understood. Hehad all that birth, breeding, education, and tradition could give. Theresources of our American life and civilization could produce nothingbetter. How would he and such men as he stand the great ordeal when itcame? If wealth, education, and breeding were to result in a classwho could only carp and criticize, accumulate money, give way toself-indulgence, and cherish low foreign ideals, then would it haveappeared that there was a radical unsoundness in our society, refinementwould have been proved to be weakness, and the highest education wouldhave been shown to be a curse, rather than a blessing. But CharlesLowell, and hundreds of others like him, in greater or less degree, allover the land, met the great test and emerged triumphant. The Harvardmen may be taken as fairly representing the colleges and universities ofAmerica. Harvard had, in 1860, 4157 living graduates, and 823 students, presumably over eighteen years old. Probably 3000 of her students andgraduates were of military age, and not physically disqualified formilitary service. Of this number, 1230 entered the Union army or navy. One hundred and fifty-six died in service, and 67 were killed in action. Many did not go who might have gone, unquestionably, but the record is anoble one. Nearly one man of every two Harvard men came forward to servehis country when war was at our gates, and this proportion holds true, no doubt, of the other universities of the North. It is well for thecountry, well for learning, well for our civilization, that such arecord was made at such a time. Charles Lowell, and those like him, showed, once for all, that the men to whom fortune had been kindest werecapable of the noblest patriotism, and shrank from no sacrifices. Theytaught the lesson which can never be heard too often--that the man towhom the accidents of birth and fortune have given most is the man whoowes most to his country. If patriotism should exist anywhere, it shouldbe strongest with such men as these, and their service should be everready. How nobly Charles Lowell in this spirit answered the greatquestion, his life and death, alike victorious, show to all men. 

SHERIDAN AT CEDAR CREEK

 Inspired repulsed battalions to engage, And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. --Addison. 

General Sheridan took command of the Army of the Shenandoah in August, 1864. His coming was the signal for aggressive fighting, and for aseries of brilliant victories over the rebel army. He defeated Earlyat Winchester and again at Fisher's Hill, while General Torbert whippedRosser in a subsequent action, where the rout of the rebels was socomplete that the fight was known as the "Woodstock races. " Sheridan'splan after this was to terminate his campaign north of Staunton, and, returning thence, to desolate the Valley, so as to make it untenablefor the Confederates, as well as useless as a granary or storehouse, andthen move the bulk of his army through Washington, and unite themwith General Grant in front of Petersburg. Grant, however, and theauthorities at Washington, were in favor of Sheridan's driving Earlyinto Eastern Virginia, and following up that line, which Sheri danhimself believed to be a false move. This important matter was in debateuntil October 16, when Sheridan, having left the main body of his armyat Cedar Creek under General Wright, determined to go to Washington, anddiscuss the question personally with General Halleck and the Secretaryof War. He reached Washington on the morning of the 17th about eighto'clock, left there at twelve; and got back to Martinsburg the samenight about dark. At Martinsburg he spent the night, and the next day, with his escort, rode to Winchester, reaching that point between threeand four o'clock in the afternoon of the 18th. He there heard that allwas quiet at Cedar Creek and along the front, and went to bed, expectingto reach his headquarters and join the army the next day. 

About six o'clock, on the morning of the 19th, it was reported to himthat artillery firing could be heard in the direction of Cedar Creek, but as the sound was stated to be irregular and fitful, he thought itonly a skirmish. He, nevertheless, arose at once, and had just finisheddressing when another officer came in, and reported that the firing wasstill going on in the same direction, but that it did not sound likea general battle. Still Sheridan was uneasy, and, after breakfasting, mounted his horse between eight and nine o'clock, and rode slowlythrough Winchester. When he reached the edge of the town he halted amoment, and then heard the firing of artillery in an unceasing roar. He now felt confident that a general battle was in progress, and, as herode forward, he was convinced, from the rapid increase of the sound, that his army was failing back. After he had crossed Mill Creek, justoutside Winchester, and made the crest of the rise beyond the stream, there burst upon his view the spectacle of a panic-stricken army. Hundreds of slightly wounded men, with hundreds more unhurt, butdemoralized, together with baggage wagons and trains, were all pressingto the rear, in hopeless confusion. 

There was no doubt now that a disaster had occurred at the front. Afugitive told Sheridan that the army was broken and in full retreat, and that all was lost. Sheridan at once sent word to Colonel Edwards, commanding a brigade at Winchester, to stretch his troops across thevalley, and stop all fugitives. His first idea was to make a standthere, but, as he rode along, a different plan flashed into his mind. Hebelieved that his troops had great confidence in him, and he determinedto try to restore their broken ranks, and, instead of merely holding theground at Winchester, to rally his army, and lead them forward again toCedar Creek. He had hardly made up his mind to this course, when newswas brought to him that his headquarters at Cedar Creek were captured, and the troops dispersed. He started at once, with about twenty men asan escort, and rode rapidly to the front. As he passed along, the unhurtmen, who thickly lined the road, recognized him, and, as they did so, threw up their hats, shouldered their muskets, and followed him as fastas they could on foot. His officers rode out on either side to tell thestragglers that the general had returned, and, as the news spread theretreating men in every direction rallied, and turned their faces towardthe battle-field they had left. 

In his memoirs, Sheridan says, in speaking of his ride through theretreating troops: "I said nothing, except to remark, as I rode amongthem 'If I had been with you this morning, this disaster would not havehappened. We must face the other way. We will go back and recover ourcamp. '" Thus he galloped on over the twenty miles, with the men rallyingbehind him, and following him in ever increasing numbers. As he went by, the panic of retreat was replaced by the ardor of battle. Sheridan hadnot overestimate the power of enthusiasm or his own ability to rouse itto fighting pitch. He pressed steadily on to the front, until at last hecame up to Getty's division of the 6th Corps, which, with the cavalry, were the only troops who held their line and were resisting the enemy. Getty's division was about a mile north of Middletown on some slightlyrising ground, and were skirmishing with the enemy's pickets. Jumping arail fence, Sheridan rode to the crest of the hill, and, as he tookoff his hat, the men rose up from behind the barricades with cheers ofrecognition. 

It is impossible to follow in detail Sheridan's actions from thatmoment, but he first brought up the 19th Corps and the two divisions ofWright to the front. He then communicated with Colonel Lowell, who wasfighting near Middletown with his men dismounted, and asked him if hecould hold on where he was, to which Lowell replied in the affirmative. All this and many similar quickly-given orders consumed a great deal oftime, but still the men were getting into line, and at last, seeing thatthe enemy were about to renew the attack, Sheridan rode along the lineso that the men could all see him. He was received with the wildestenthusiasm as he rode by, and the spirit of the army was restored. Therebel attack was made shortly after noon, and was repulsed by GeneralEmory. 

This done, Sheridan again set to work to getting his line completelyrestored, while General Merritt charged and drove off an exposed batteryof the Confederates. By halfpast three Sheridan was ready to attack. The fugitives of the morning, whom he had rallied as he rode fromWinchester, were again in their places, and the different divisions wereall disposed in their proper positions. With the order to advance, the whole line pressed forward. The Confederates at first resistedstubbornly, and then began to retreat. On they went past Cedar Creek, and there, where the pike made a sharp turn to the west toward Fisher'sHill, Merritt and Custer fell on the flank of the retreating columns, and the rebel army fell back, routed and broken, up the Valley. The dayhad begun in route and defeat; it ended in a great victory for the Unionarmy. 

How near we had been to a terrible disaster can be realized by recallingwhat had happened before the general galloped down from Winchester. 

In Sheridan's absence, Early, soon after dawn, had made an unexpectedattack on our army at Cedar Creek. Surprised by the assault, thenational troops had given way in all directions, and a panic had set in. Getty's division with Lowell's cavalry held on at Middletown, but, with this exception, the rout was complete. When Sheridan rode out ofWinchester, he met an already beaten army. His first thought was thenatural one to make a stand at Winchester and rally his troops about himthere. His second thought was the inspiration of the great commander. Hebelieved his men would rally as soon as they saw him. He believed thatenthusiasm was one of the great weapons of war, and that this was themoment of all others when it might be used with decisive advantage. Withthis thought in his mind he abandoned the idea of forming his men atWinchester, and rode bareheaded through the fugitives, swinging his hat, straight for the front, and calling on his men as he passed to followhim. As the soldiers saw him, they turned and rushed after him. He hadnot calculated in vain upon the power of personal enthusiasm, but, atthe same time, he did not rely upon any wild rush to save the day. Themoment he reached the field of battle, he set to work with the coolnessof a great soldier to make all the dispositions, first, to repel theenemy, and then to deliver an attack which could not be resisted. Onedivision after another was rapidly brought into line and placedin position, the thin ranks filling fast with the soldiers who hadrecovered from their panic, and followed Sheridan and the black horseall the way down from Winchester. He had been already two hours on thefield when, at noon, he rode along the line, again formed for battle. Most of the officers and men then thought he had just come, while inreality it was his own rapid work which had put them in the line alongwhich he was riding. 

Once on the field of battle, the rush and hurry of the desperate ridefrom Winchester came to an end. First the line was reformed, then theenemy's assault was repulsed, and it was made impossible for them toagain take the offensive. But Sheridan, undazzled by his brilliantsuccess up to this point, did not mar his work by overhaste. Two hoursmore passed before he was ready, and then, when all was prepared, withhis ranks established and his army ranged in position, he moved hiswhole line forward, and won one of the most brilliant battles of thewar, having, by his personal power over his troops, and his genius inaction, snatched a victory from a day which began in surprise, disaster, and defeat. 

LIEUTENANT CUSHING AND THE RAM "ALBEMARLE"

 God give us peace! Not such as lulls to sleep, But sword on thigh, and brow with purpose knit! And let our Ship of State to harbor sweep, Her ports all up, her battle-lanterns lit, And her leashed thunders gathering for their leap! --Lowell. 

The great Civil War was remarkable in many ways, but in no way moreremarkable than for the extraordinary mixture of inventive mechanicalgenius and of resolute daring shown by the combatants. After the firstyear, when the contestants had settled down to real fighting, andthe preliminary mob work was over, the battles were marked by theirextraordinary obstinacy and heavy loss. In no European conflict sincethe close of the Napoleonic wars has the fighting been anything likeas obstinate and as bloody as was the fighting in our own Civil War. In addition to this fierce and dogged courage, this splendid fightingcapacity, the contest also brought out the skilled inventive power ofengineer and mechanician in a way that few other contests have everdone. 

This was especially true of the navy. The fighting under and againstFarragut and his fellow-admirals revolutionized naval warfare. TheCivil War marks the break between the old style and the new. Terribleencounters took place when the terrible new engines of war were broughtinto action for the first time; and one of these encounters has givenan example which, for heroic daring combined with cool intelligence, isunsurpassed in all time. 

The Confederates showed the same skill and energy in building theirgreat ironclad rams as the men of the Union did in building the monitorswhich were so often pitted against them. Both sides, but especiallythe Confederates, also used stationary torpedoes, and, on a number ofoccasions, torpedo-boats likewise. These torpedo-boats were sometimesbuilt to go under the water. One such, after repeated failures, wasemployed by the Confederates, with equal gallantry and success, insinking a Union sloop of war off Charleston harbor, the torpedo-boatitself going down to the bottom with its victim, all on board beingdrowned. The other type of torpedo-boat was simply a swift, ordinarysteam-launch, operated above water. 

It was this last type of boat which Lieutenant W. B. Cushing broughtdown to Albemarle Sound to use against the great Confederate ramAlbemarle. The ram had been built for the purpose of destroying theUnion blockading forces. Steaming down river, she had twice attacked theFederal gunboats, and in each case had sunk or disabled one or more ofthem, with little injury to herself. She had retired up the river againto lie at her wharf and refit. The gunboats had suffered so severely asto make it a certainty that when she came out again, thoroughly fittedto renew the attack, the wooden vessels would be destroyed; and whileshe was in existence, the Union vessels could not reduce the forts andcoast towns. Just at this time Cushing came down from the North withhis swift little torpedo-boat, an open launch, with a spar-rigged outin front, the torpedo being placed at the end. The crew of the launchconsisted of fifteen men, Cushing being in command. He not only guidedhis craft, but himself handled the torpedo by means of two small ropes, one of which put it in place, while the other exploded it. The actionof the torpedo was complicated, and it could not have been operated ina time of tremendous excitement save by a man of the utmost nerveand self-command; but Cushing had both. He possessed precisely thatcombination of reckless courage, presence of mind, and high mentalcapacity necessary to the man who leads a forlorn hope under peculiarlydifficult circumstances. 

On the night of October 27, 1864, Cushing slipped away from theblockading fleet, and steamed up river toward the wharf, a dozen milesdistant, where the great ram lay. The Confederates were watchful toguard against surprise, for they feared lest their foes should try todestroy the ram before she got a chance to come down and attack themagain in the Sound. She lay under the guns of a fort, with a regimentof troops ready at a moment's notice to turn out and defend her. Her ownguns were kept always clear for action, and she was protected by agreat boom of logs thrown out roundabout; of which last defense theNortherners knew nothing. 

Cushing went up-stream with the utmost caution, and by good luck passed, unnoticed, a Confederate lookout below the ram. 

About midnight he made his assault. Steaming quietly on through theblack water, and feeling his way cautiously toward where he knew thetown to be, he finally made out the loom of the Albemarle through thenight, and at once drove at her. He was almost upon her before he wasdiscovered; then the crew and the soldiers on the wharf opened fire, and, at the same moment, he was brought-to by the boom, the existenceof which he had not known. The rifle balls were singing round him ashe stood erect, guiding his launch, and he heard the bustle of the menaboard the ram, and the noise of the great guns as they were got ready. Backing off, he again went all steam ahead, and actually surged over theslippery logs of the boom. Meanwhile, on the Albemarle the sailors wererunning to quarters, and the soldiers were swarming down to aid in herdefense; and the droning bullets came always thicker through the darknight. Cushing still stood upright in his little craft, guiding andcontrolling her by voice and signal, while in his hands he kept theropes which led to the torpedo. As the boat slid forward over the boom, he brought the torpedo full against the somber side of the huge ram, andinstantly exploded it, almost at the same time that the pivot-gun of theram, loaded with grape, was fired point-blank at him not ten yards off. 

At once the ram settled, the launch sinking at the same moment, whileCushing and his men swam for their lives. Most of them sank or werecaptured, but Cushing reached mid-stream. Hearing something splashing inthe darkness, he swam toward it, and found that it was one of his crew. He went to his rescue, and they kept together for some time, but thesailor's strength gave out, and he finally sank. In the pitch darknessCushing could form no idea where he was; and when, chilled through, andtoo exhausted to rise to his feet, he finally reached shore, shortlybefore dawn, he found that he had swum back and landed but a fewhundred feet below the sunken ram. All that day he remained within easymusket-shot of where his foes were swarming about the fort and the greatdrowned ironclad. He hardly dared move, and until the afternoon he laywithout food, and without protection from the heat or venomous insects. Then he managed to slip unobserved into the dense swamp, and began tomake his way to the fleet. Toward evening he came out on a small stream, near a camp of Confederate soldiers. They had moored to the bank askiff, and, with equal stealth and daring, he managed to steal this andto paddle down-stream. Hour after hour he paddled on through the fadinglight, and then through the darkness. At last, utterly worn out, hefound the squadron, and was picked up. At once the ships weighed; andthey speedily captured every coast town and fort, for their dreadedenemy was no longer in the way. The fame of Cushing's deed went all overthe North, and his name will stand forever among the brightest on thehonor-roll of the American navy. 

FARRAGUT AT MOBILE BAY

 Ha, old ship, do they thrill, The brave two hundred scars You got in the river wars? That were leeched with clamorous skill (Surgery savage and hard), At the Brooklyn Navy Yard. 

 * * * *

 How the guns, as with cheer and shout, Our tackle-men hurled them out, Brought up in the waterways. .. As we fired, at the flash 'T was lightning and black eclipse With a bellowing sound and crash. 

 * * * *

 The Dahlgrens are dumb, Dumb are the mortars; Never more shall the drum Beat to colors and quarters-- The great guns are silent. --Henry Howard Brownell

During the Civil War our navy produced, as it has always producedin every war, scores of capable officers, of brilliant single-shipcommanders, of men whose daring courage made them fit leaders in anyhazardous enterprise. In this respect the Union seamen in the Civil Warmerely lived up to the traditions of their service. In a service withsuch glorious memories it was a difficult thing to establish a newrecord in feats of personal courage or warlike address. Biddle, in theRevolutionary War, fighting his little frigate against a ship of theline until she blew up with all on board, after inflicting severe losson her huge adversary; Decatur, heading the rush of the boarders in thenight attack when they swept the wild Moorish pirates from the decks oftheir anchored prize; Lawrence, dying with the words on his lips, "Don't give up the ship"; and Perry, triumphantly steering his bloodysloop-of-war to victory with the same words blazoned on his banner--menlike these, and like their fellows, who won glory in desperate conflictswith the regular warships and heavy privateers of England and France, orwith the corsairs of the Barbary States, left behind a reputation whichwas hardly to be dimmed, though it might be emulated, by later feats ofmere daring. 

But vital though daring is, indispensable though desperate personalprowess and readiness to take chances are to the make-up of a fightingnavy, other qualities are needed in addition to fit a man for a placeamong the great sea-captains of all time. It was the good fortune of thenavy in the Civil War to produce one admiral of renown, one peer of allthe mighty men who have ever waged war on the ocean. Farragut was notonly the greatest admiral since Nelson, but, with the sole exceptionof Nelson, he was as great an admiral as ever sailed the broad or thenarrow seas. 

David Glasgow Farragut was born in Tennessee. He was appointed to thenavy while living in Louisiana, but when the war came he remainedloyal to the Union flag. This puts him in the category of those menwho deserved best of their country in the Civil War; the men who wereSouthern by birth, but who stood loyally by the Union; the men likeGeneral Thomas of Virginia, and like Farragut's own flag-captain at thebattle of Mobile Bay, Drayton of South Carolina. It was an easy thing inthe North to support the Union, and it was a double disgrace to be, likeVallandigham and the Copperheads, against it; and in the South therewere a great multitude of men, as honorable as they were brave, who, from the best of motives, went with their States when they seceded, oreven advocated secession. But the highest and loftiest patriots, thosewho deserved best of the whole country, we re the men from the South whopossessed such heroic courage, and such lofty fealty to the high idealof the Union, that they stood by the flag when their fellows desertedit, and unswervingly followed a career devoted to the cause of the wholenation and of the whole people. Among all those who fought in this, thegreatest struggle for righteousness which the present century has seen, these men stand preeminent; and among them Farragut stands first. Itwas his good fortune that by his life he offered an example, not onlyof patriotism, but of supreme skill and daring in his profession. Hebelongs to that class of commanders who possess in the highestdegree the qualities of courage and daring, of readiness to assumeresponsibility, and of willingness to run great risks; the qualitieswithout which no commander, however cautious and able, can ever becomereally great. He possessed also the unwearied capacity for takingthought in advance, which enabled him to prepare for victory before theday of battle came; and he added to this an inexhaustible fertility ofresource and presence of mind under no matter what strain. 

His whole career should be taught every American schoolboy, for whenthat schoolboy becomes a voter he should have learned the lesson thatthe United States, while it ought not to become an overgrown militarypower, should always have a first-class navy, formidable from the numberof its ships, and formidable still more from the excellence of theindividual ships and the high character of the officers and men. Farragut saw the war of 1812, in which, though our few frigates andsloops fought some glorious actions, our coasts were blockaded andinsulted, and the Capitol at Washington burned, because our statesmenand our people had been too short-sighted to build a big fighting navy;and Farragut was able to perform his great feats on the Gulf coastbecause, when the Civil War broke out, we had a navy which, though toosmall in point of numbers, was composed of ships as good as any afloat. 

Another lesson to be learned by a study of his career is that no manin a profession so highly technical as that of the navy can win a greatsuccess unless he has been brought up in and specially trained for thatprofession, and has devoted his life to the work. This fact was madeplainly evident in the desperate hurly-burly of the night battle withthe Confederate flotilla below New Orleans--the incidents of thishurly-burly being, perhaps, best described by the officer who, inhis report of his own share in it, remarked that "all sorts of thingshappened. " Of the Confederate rams there were two, commanded by trainedofficers formerly in the United States navy, Lieutenants Kennon andWarley. Both of these men handled their little vessels with remarkablecourage, skill, and success, fighting them to the last, and inflictingserious and heavy damage upon the Union fleet. The other vessels of theflotilla were commanded by men who had not been in the regular navy, whowere merely Mississippi River captains, and the like. These men were, doubtless, naturally as brave as any of the regular officers; but, withone or two exceptions, they failed ignobly in the time of trial, andshowed a fairly startling contrast with the regular naval officersbeside or against whom they fought. This is a fact which may well bepondered by the ignorant or unpatriotic people who believe that theUnited States does not need a navy, or that it can improvise one, andimprovise officers to handle it, whenever the moment of need arises. 

When a boy, Farragut had sailed as a midshipman on the Essex in herfamous cruise to the South Pacific, and lived through the murderousfight in which, after losing three fifths of her crew, she was capturedby two British vessels. Step by step he rose in his profession, butnever had an opportunity of distinguishing himself until, when he wassixty years old, the Civil War broke out. He was then made flag officerof the Gulf squadron; and the first success which the Union forces metwith in the southwest was scored by him, when one night he burst theiron chains which the Confederates had stretched across theMississippi, and, stemming the swollen flood with his splendidly-handledsteam-frigates, swept past the forts, sank the rams and gunboats thatsought to bar his path, and captured the city of New Orleans. Afterfurther exciting service on the Mississippi, service in which heturned a new chapter in the history of naval warfare by showing thepossibilities of heavy seagoing vessels when used on great rivers, he again went back to the Gulf, and, in the last year of the war, was allotted the task of attempting the capture of Mobile, the onlyimportant port still left open to the Confederates. 

In August, 1864, Farragut was lying with his fleet off Mobile Bay. Formonths he had been eating out his heart while undergoing the wearingstrain of the blockade; sympathizing, too, with every detail of thedoubtful struggle on land. "I get right sick, every now and then, atthe bad news, " he once wrote home; and then again, "The victory of theKearsarge over the Alabama raised me up; I would sooner have fought thatfight than any ever fought on the ocean. " As for himself, all he wishedwas a chance to fight, for he had the fighting temperament, and he knewthat, in the long run, an enemy can only be beaten by being out-fought, as well as out-manoeuvered. He possessed a splendid self-confidence, and scornfully threw aside any idea that he would be defeated, while heutterly refused to be daunted by the rumors of the formidable nature ofthe defenses against which he was to act. "I mean to be whipped or towhip my enemy, and not to be scared to death, " he remarked in speakingof these rumors. 

The Confederates who held Mobile used all their skill in preparing fordefense, and all their courage in making that defense good. The mouthof the bay was protected by two fine forts, heavily armed, Morganand Gaines. The winding channels were filled with torpedoes, and, inaddition, there was a flotilla consisting of three gunboats, and, aboveall, a big ironclad ram, the Tennessee, one of the most formidablevessels then afloat. She was not fast, but she carried six high-powerrifled guns, and her armor was very powerful, while, being of lightdraft, she could take a position where Farragut's deep-sea ships couldnot get at her. Farragut made his attack with four monitors, --two ofthem, the Tecumseh and Manhattan, of large size, carrying 15-inch guns, and the other two, the Winnebago and Chickasaw, smaller and lighter, with 11-inch guns, --and the wooden vessels, fourteen in number. Sevenof these were big sloops-of-war, of the general type of Farragut's ownflagship, the Hartford. She was a screw steamer, but was a full-riggedship likewise, with twenty-two 9-inch shell guns, arranged in broadside, and carrying a crew of three hundred men. The other seven were lightgunboats. When Farragut prepared for the assault, he arranged to makethe attack with his wooden ships in double column. The seven mostpowerful were formed on the right, in line ahead, to engage Fort Morgan, the heaviest of the two forts, which had to be passed close inshore tothe right. The light vessels were lashed each to the left of one of theheavier ones. By this arrangement each pair of ships was given a doublechance to escape, if rendered helpless by a shot in the boiler or othervital part of the machinery. The heaviest ships led in the fightingcolumn, the first place being taken by the Brooklyn and her gunboatconsort, while the second position was held by Farragut himself inthe Hartford, with the little Metacomet lashed alongside. He waited todeliver the attack until the tide and the wind should be favorable, and made all his preparations with the utmost care and thoughtfulness. Preeminently a man who could inspire affection in others, both theofficers and men of the fleet regarded him with fervent loyalty andabsolute trust. 

The attack was made early on the morning of August 5. Soon aftermidnight the weather became hot and calm, and at three the Admirallearned that a light breeze had sprung up from the quarter he wished, and he at once announced, "Then we will go in this morning. " At daybreakhe was at breakfast when the word was brought that the ships were alllashed in couples. Turning quietly to his captain, he said, "Well, Drayton, we might as well get under way;" and at half-past six themonitors stood down to their stations, while the column of wooden shipswas formed, all with the United States flag hoisted, not only at thepeak, but also at every masthead. The four monitors, trusting in theiriron sides, steamed in between the wooden ships and the fort. Every manin every craft was thrilling with the fierce excitement of battle; butin the minds of most there lurked a vague feeling of unrest over onedanger. For their foes who fought in sight, for the forts, the gunboats, and, the great ironclad ram, they cared nothing; but all, save the veryboldest, were at times awed, and rendered uneasy by the fear of thehidden and the unknown. Danger which is great and real, but whichis shrouded in mystery, is always very awful; and the ocean veteransdreaded the torpedoes--the mines of death--which lay, they knew notwhere, thickly scattered through the channels along which they were tothread their way. 

The tall ships were in fighting trim, with spars housed, and canvasfurled. The decks were strewn with sawdust; every man was in his place;the guns were ready, and except for the song of the sounding-lead therewas silence in the ships as they moved forward through the gloriousmorning. It was seven o'clock when the battle began, as the Tecumseh, the leading monitor, fired two shots at the fort. In a few minutes FortMorgan was ablaze with the flash of her guns, and the leading woodenvessels were sending back broadside after broadside. Farragut stood inthe port main-rigging, and as the smoke increased he gradually climbedhigher, until he was close by the maintop, where the pilot was stationedfor the sake of clearer vision. The captain, fearing lest by one ofthe accidents of battle the great admiral should lose his footing, sentaloft a man with a lasher, and had a turn or two taken around his bodyin the shrouds, so that he might not fall if wounded; for the shotswere flying thick. 

At first the ships used only their bow guns, and the Confederate ram, with her great steel rifles, and her three consorts, taking stationwhere they could rake the advancing fleet, caused much loss. In twentyminutes after the opening of the fight the ships of the van were fairlyabreast of the fort, their guns leaping and thundering; and under theweight of their terrific fire that of the fort visibly slackened. Allwas now uproar and slaughter, the smoke drifting off in clouds. Thedecks were reddened and ghastly with blood, and the wreck of flyingsplinters drove across them at each discharge. The monitor Tecumsehalone was silent. After firing the first two shots, her commander, Captain Craven, had loaded his two big guns with steel shot, and, thusprepared, reserved himself for the Confederate ironclad, which he hadset his heart upon taking or destroying single-handed. The two columnsof monitors and the wooden ships lashed in pairs were now approachingthe narrowest part of the channel, where the torpedoes lay thickest; andthe guns of the vessels fairly overbore and quelled the fire from thefort. All was well, provided only the two columns could push straight onwithout hesitation; but just at this moment a terrible calamity befellthe leader of the monitors. The Tecumseh, standing straight for theTennessee, was within two hundred yards of her foe, when a torpedosuddenly exploded beneath her. The monitor was about five hundred yardsfrom the Hartford, and from the maintop Farragut, looking at her, sawher reel violently from side to side, lurch heavily over, and go downheadforemost, her screw revolving wildly in the air as she disappeared. Captain Craven, one of the gentlest and bravest of men, was in thepilot-house with the pilot at the time. As she sank, both rushed tothe narrow door, but there was time for only one to get out. Craven wasahead, but drew to one side, saying, "After you, pilot. " As the pilotleaped through, the water rushed in, and Craven and all his crew, savetwo men, settled to the bottom in their iron coffin. 

None of the monitors were awed or daunted by the fate of their consort, but drew steadily onward. In the bigger monitors the captains, like thecrews, had remained within the iron walls; but on the two light craftsthe commanders had found themselves so harassed by their crampedquarters, that they both stayed outside on the deck. As these twosteamed steadily ahead, the men on the flagship saw Captain Stevens, of the Winnebago, pacing calmly, from turret to turret, on his unwieldyiron craft, under the full fire of the fort. The captain of theChickasaw, Perkins, was the youngest commander in the fleet, and as hepassed the Hartford, he stood on top of the turret, waving his hat anddancing about in wildest excitement and delight. 

But, for a moment, the nerve of the commander of the Brooklyn failedhim. The awful fate of the Tecumseh and the sight of a number of objectsin the channel ahead, which seemed to be torpedoes, caused him tohesitate. He stopped his ship, and then backed water, making sternway tothe Hartford, so as to stop her also. It was the crisis of the fightand the crisis of Farragut's career. The column was halted in a narrowchannel, right under the fire of the forts. A few moments' delay andconfusion, and the golden chance would have been past, and the onlyquestion remaining would have been as to the magnitude of the disaster. Ahead lay terrible danger, but ahead lay also triumph. It might be thatthe first ship to go through would be sacrificed to the torpedoes; itmight be that others would be sacrificed; but go through the fleet must. Farragut signaled to the Brooklyn to go ahead, but she still hesitated. Immediately, the admiral himself resolved to take the lead. Backing hardhe got clear of the Brooklyn, twisted his ship's prow short round, andthen, going ahead fast, he dashed close under the Brooklyn's stern, straight at the line of buoys in the channel. As he thus went by theBrooklyn, a warning cry came from her that there were torpedoes ahead. "Damn the torpedoes!" shouted the admiral; "go ahead, full speed;" andthe Hartford and her consort steamed forward. As they passed between thebuoys, the cases of the torpedoes were heard knocking against thebottom of the ship; but for some reason they failed to explode, and theHartford went safely through the gates of Mobile Bay, passing the forts. Farragut's last and hardest battle was virtually won. After a delaywhich allowed the flagship to lead nearly a mile, the Brooklyn got herhead round, and came in, closely followed by all the other ships. TheTennessee strove to interfere with the wooden craft as they went in, butthey passed, exchanging shots, and one of them striving to ram her, butinflicting only a glancing blow. The ship on the fighting side of therear couple had been completely disabled by a shot through her boiler. 

As Farragut got into the bay he gave orders to slip the gunboats, whichwere lashed to each of the Union ships of war, against the Confederategunboats, one of which he had already disabled by his fire, so that shewas run ashore and burnt. Jouett, the captain of the Metacomet, hadbeen eagerly waiting this order, and had his men already standing at thehawsers, hatchet in hand. When the signal for the gunboats to chasewas hoisted, the order to Jouett was given by word of mouth, and as hishearty "Aye, aye, sir, " came in answer, the hatchets fell, the hawsersparted, and the Metacomet leaped forward in pursuit. A thick rainsquallcame up, and rendered it impossible for the rear gunboats to knowwhither the Confederate flotilla had fled. When it cleared away, thewatchers on the fleet saw that one of the two which were uninjured hadslipped off to Fort Morgan, while the other, the Selma, was under theguns of the Metacomet, and was promptly carried by the latter. 

Meanwhile the ships anchored in the bay, about four miles from FortMorgan, and the crews were piped to breakfast; but almost as soon as itwas begun, the lookouts reported that the great Confederate ironclad wassteaming down, to do battle, single-handed, with the Union fleet. Shewas commanded by Buchanan, a very gallant and able officer, who had beenon the Merrimac, and who trusted implicitly in his invulnerable sides, his heavy rifle guns, and his formidable iron beak. As the ram came on, with splendid courage, the ships got under way, while Farragut sentword to the monitors to attack the Tennessee at once. The fleet surgeon, Palmer, delivered these orders. In his diary he writes:

"I came to the Chickasaw; happy as my friend Perkins habitually is, Ithought he would turn a somerset with joy, when I told him, 'The admiralwants you to go at once and fight the Tennessee. '"

At the same time, the admiral directed the wooden vessels to charge theram, bow on, at full speed, as well as to attack her with their guns. The monitors were very slow, and the wooden vessels began the attack. The first to reach the hostile ironclad was the Monongahela, whichstruck her square amidships; and five minutes later the Lackawanna, going at full speed, delivered another heavy blow. Both the Unionvessels fired such guns as would bear as they swung round, but the shotsglanced harmlessly from the armor, and the blows of the ship producedno serious injury to the ram, although their own stems were crushed inseveral feet above and below the water line. The Hartford then struckthe Tennessee, which met her bows on. The two antagonists scraped by, their port sides touching. As they rasped past, the Hartford's guns weredischarged against the ram, their muzzles only half a dozen feet distantfrom her iron-clad sides; but the shot made no impression. While thethree ships were circling to repeat the charge, the Lackawanna ransquare into the flagship, cutting the vessel down to within two feet ofthe water. For a moment the ship's company thought the vessel sinking, and almost as one man they cried: "Save the admiral! get the admiral onboard the Lackawanna. " But Farragut, leaping actively into the chains, saw that the ship was in no present danger, and ordered her again to beheaded for the Tennessee. Meanwhile, the monitors had come up, and thebattle raged between them and the great ram, Like the rest of the Unionfleet, they carried smooth-bores, and their shot could not break throughher iron plates; but by sustained and continuous hammering, her framecould be jarred and her timbers displaced. Two of the monitors had beenmore or less disabled already, but the third, the Chickasaw, was infine trim, and Perkins got her into position under the stern of theTennessee, just after the latter was struck by the Hartford; and therehe stuck to the end, never over fifty yards distant, and keeping up asteady rapping of 11-inch shot upon the iron walls, which they couldnot penetrate, but which they racked and shattered. The Chickasawfired fifty-two times at her antagonist, shooting away the exposedrudder-chains and the smokestack, while the commander of the ram, Buchanan, was wounded by an iron splinter which broke his leg. Under thehammering, the Tennessee became helpless. She could not be steered, andwas unable to bring a gun to bear, while many of the shutters of theports were jammed. For twenty minutes she had not fired a shot. Thewooden vessels were again bearing down to ram her; and she hoisted thewhite flag. 

Thus ended the battle of Mobile Bay, Farragut's crowning victory. Lessthan three hours elapsed from the time that Fort Morgan fired its firstgun to the moment when the Tennessee hauled down her flag. Three hundredand thirty-five men had been killed or wounded in the fleet, and onevessel, the Tecumseh, had gone down; but the Confederate flotillawas destroyed, the bay had been entered, and the forts around it werehelpless to do anything further. One by one they surrendered, and theport of Mobile was thus sealed against blockade runners, so that thelast source of communication between the Confederacy and the outsideworld was destroyed. Farragut had added to the annals of the Union thepage which tells of the greatest sea-fight in our history. 

LINCOLN

 O captain. My captain. Our fearful trip is done; The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring: But O heart! Heart! Heart! Leave you not the little spot, Where on the deck my captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. 

 O captain. My captain. Rise up and hear the bells; Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills; For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding; For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; O captain. Dear father. This arm I push beneath you; It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead. 

 My captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor win: But the ship, the ship is anchor'd safe, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won: Exult O shores, and ring, O bells. But I with silent tread, Walk the spot the captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. --Walt Whitman. 

As Washington stands to the Revolution and the establishment of thegovernment, so Lincoln stands as the hero of the mightier struggleby which our Union was saved. He was born in 1809, ten years afterWashington, his work done had been laid to rest at Mount Vernon. Nogreat man ever came from beginnings which seemed to promise so little. Lincoln's family, for more than one generation, had been sinking, instead of rising, in the social scale. His father was one of thosemen who were found on the frontier in the early days of the westernmovement, always changing from one place to another, and dropping alittle lower at each remove. Abraham Lincoln was born into a familywho were not only poor, but shiftless, and his early days were daysof ignorance, and poverty, and hard work. Out of such inauspicioussurroundings, he slowly and painfully lifted himself. He gave himselfan education, he took part in an Indian war, he worked in the fields, he kept a country store, he read and studied, and, at last, he becamea lawyer. Then he entered into the rough politics of the newly-settledState. He grew to be a leader in his county, and went to thelegislature. The road was very rough, the struggle was very hard andvery bitter, but the movement was always upward. 

At last he was elected to Congress, and served one term in Washingtonas a Whig with credit, but without distinction. Then he went back to hislaw and his politics in Illinois. He had, at last, made his position. All that was now needed was an opportunity, and that came to him in thegreat anti-slavery struggle. 

Lincoln was not an early Abolitionist. His training had been that of aregular party man, and as a member of a great political organization, but he was a lover of freedom and justice. Slavery, in its essence, washateful to him, and when the conflict between slavery and freedom wasfairly joined, his path was clear before him. He took up the antislaverycause in his own State and made himself its champion against Douglas, the great leader of the Northern Democrats. He stumped Illinois inopposition to Douglas, as a candidate for the Senate, debating thequestion which divided the country in every part of the State. Hewas beaten at the election, but, by the power and brilliancy of hisspeeches, his own reputation was made. Fighting the anti-slavery battlewithin constitutional lines, concentrating his whole force against thesingle point of the extension of slavery to the Territories, he hadmade it clear that a new leader had arisen in the cause of freedom. FromIllinois his reputation spread to the East, and soon after his greatdebate he delivered a speech in New York which attracted wide attention. At the Republican convention of 1856, his name was one of those proposedfor vice-president. 

When 1860 came, he was a candidate for the first place on the nationalticket. The leading candidate was William H. Seward, of New York, themost conspicuous man of the country on the Republican side, but theconvention, after a sharp struggle, selected Lincoln, and then the greatpolitical battle came at the polls. The Republicans were victorious, and, as soon as the result of the voting was known, the South setto work to dissolve the Union. In February Lincoln made his way toWashington, at the end coming secretly from Harrisburg to escape athreatened attempt at assassination, and on March 4, 1861 assumed thepresidency. 

No public man, no great popular leader, ever faced a more terriblesituation. The Union was breaking, the Southern States were seceding, treason was rampant in Washington, and the Government was bankrupt. Thecountry knew that Lincoln was a man of great capacity in debate, devotedto the cause of antislavery and to the maintenance of the Union. Butwhat his ability was to deal with the awful conditions by which he wassurrounded, no one knew. To follow him through the four years of civilwar which ensued is, of course, impossible here. Suffice it to say thatno greater, no more difficult, task has ever been faced by any manin modern times, and no one ever met a fierce trial and conflict moresuccessfully. 

Lincoln put to the front the question of the Union, and let the questionof slavery drop, at first, into the background. He used every exertionto hold the border States by moderate measures, and, in this way, prevented the spread of the rebellion. For this moderation, theantislavery extremists in the North assailed him, but nothing shows morehis far-sighted wisdom and strength of purpose than his action at thistime. By his policy at the beginning of his administration, he heldthe border States, and united the people of the North in defense of theUnion. 

As the war went on, he went on, too. He had never faltered in hisfeelings about slavery. He knew, better than any one, that thesuccessful dissolution of the Union by the slave power meant, notonly the destruction of an empire, but the victory of the forces ofbarbarism. But he also saw, what very few others at the moment couldsee, that, if he was to win, he must carry his people with him, stepby step. So when he had rallied them to the defense of the Union, andchecked the spread of secession in the border States, in the autumn of1862 he announced that he would issue a proclamation freeing the slaves. The extremists had doubted him in the beginning, the conservative andthe timid doubted him now, but when the Emancipation Proclamation wasissued, on January 1, 1863, it was found that the people were with himin that, as they had been with him when he staked everything upon themaintenance of the Union. The war went on to victory, and in 1864the people showed at the polls that they were with the President, andreelected him by overwhelming majorities. Victories in the field wenthand in hand with success at the ballot-box, and, in the spring of 1865, all was over. On April 9, 1865, Lee surrendered at Appomattox, and fivedays later, on April 14, a miserable assassin crept into the box at thetheater where the President was listening to a play, and shot him. Theblow to the country was terrible beyond words, for then men saw, in onebright flash, how great a man had fallen. 

Lincoln died a martyr to the cause to which he had given his life, andboth life and death were heroic. The qualities which enabled him todo his great work are very clear now to all men. His courage and hiswisdom, his keen perception and his almost prophetic foresight, enabledhim to deal with all the problems of that distracted time as theyarose around him. But he had some qualities, apart from those of theintellect, which were of equal importance to his people and to the workhe had to do. His character, at once strong and gentle, gave confidenceto every one, and dignity to his cause. He had an infinite patience, and a humor that enabled him to turn aside many difficulties which couldhave been met in no other way. But most important of all was the factthat he personified a great sentiment, which ennobled and uplifted hispeople, and made them capable of the patriotism which fought the warand saved the Union. He carried his people with him, because he knewinstinctively, how they felt and what they wanted. He embodied, inhis own person, all their highest ideals, and he never erred in hisjudgment. 

He is not only a great and commanding figure among the great statesmenand leaders of history, but he personifies, also, all the sadness andthe pathos of the war, as well as its triumphs and its glories. No wordsthat any one can use about Lincoln can, however, do him such justice ashis own, and I will close this volume with two of Lincoln's speeches, which show what the war and all the great deeds of that time meant tohim, and through which shines, the great soul of the man himself. OnNovember 19, 1863, he spoke as follows at the dedication of the Nationalcemetery on the battle-field of Gettysburg:

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on thiscontinent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to theproposition that all men are created equal. 

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, orany nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met ona great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion ofthat field as a final resting place for those who here gave their livesthat that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that weshould do this. 

But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate--we cannot consecrate--wecannot hallow--this ground. The brave men, living and dead, whostruggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add ordetract. The world will little note or long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who havefought here, have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us tobe here dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from thehonored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which theygave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve thatthese dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom; and that government of the people, bythe people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. 

On March 4, 1865, when he was inaugurated the second time, he made thefollowing address:

Fellow-Countrymen: At this second appearing to take the oath ofpresidential office, there is less occasion for an extended addressthan there was at the first. Then a statement, somewhat in detail, ofa course to be pursued, seemed proper. Now, at the expiration of fouryears, during which public declarations have been constantly calledforth on every point and phase of the great contest which still absorbsthe attention and engrosses the energies of the nation, little that isnew could be presented. The progress of our arms, upon which all elsechiefly depends, is as well known to the public as to myself; and it is, I trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. With high hopefor the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured. 

On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago, all thoughts wereanxiously directed to an impending civil war. All dreaded it--all soughtto avert it. While the inaugural address was being delivered from thisplace, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgentagents were in the city seeking to destroy it without war--seeking todissolve the Union, and divide effects, by negotiation. Both partiesdeprecated war; but one of them would make war rather than let itperish. And the war came. 

One eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributedgenerally over the Union, but localized in the southern part of it. These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knewthat this interest was, somehow, the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which theinsurgents would rend the Union, even by war; while the governmentclaimed no right to do more than to restrict the Territorial enlargementof it. Neither party expected for the war the magnitude or the durationwhich it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of theconflict might cease with, or even before, the conflict itself shouldcease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamentaland astounding. Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God; andeach invokes his aid against the other. It may seem strange that any manshould dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing their bread fromthe sweat of other men's faces; but let us judge not, that we be notjudged. The prayers of both could not be answered that of neither hasbeen answered fully. 

The Almighty has his own purposes. "Woe unto the world because ofoffenses, for it must needs be that offenses come; but woe to that manby whom the offense cometh. " If we shall suppose that American slaveryis one of those offenses which, in the providence of God, must needscome, but which, having continued through his appointed time, he nowwills to remove, and that he gives to both North and South this terriblewar, as the woe due to those by whom the offenses come, shall we discerntherein any departure from those divine attributes which the believersin a living God always ascribe to him? Fondly do we hope-fervently dowe pray--that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, ifGod wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondman'stwo hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and untilevery drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawnwith the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it mustbe said, "The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether. "

With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in theright, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finishthe work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him whoshall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan-to do allwhich may achieve and cherish a just, a lasting, peace among ourselvesand with all nations.