AMERICANMEN OF ACTION BY BURTON E. STEVENSON AUTHOR OF "A GUIDE TO BIOGRAPHY--MEN OF MIND, ""A SOLDIER OF VIRGINIA, " ETC. ; COMPILER OF"DAYS AND DEEDS--POETRY, " "DAYS ANDDEEDS--PROSE, " ETC. GARDEN CITY NEW YORK: DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 1913 * * * * * COPYRIGHT, 1909, 1910, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY * * * * * [Illustration: WASHINGTON] * * * * * CONTENTS CHAPTER I. --A TALK ABOUT BIOGRAPHY II. --THE BEGINNERS Summary to Chapter II III. --WASHINGTON TO LINCOLN Summary to Chapter III IV--LINCOLN AND HIS SUCCESSORS Summary to Chapter IV V--STATESMEN Summary to Chapter V VI. --PIONEERS Summary to Chapter VI VII. --GREAT SOLDIERS Summary to Chapter VII VIII. --GREAT SAILORS Summary to Chapter VIII INDEX * * * * * LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Washington _Frontispiece_ Columbus Jefferson Jackson Lincoln Cleveland Franklin Webster Boone Grant Lee Dewey * * * * * AMERICAN MEN OF ACTION * * * * * CHAPTER I A TALK ABOUT BIOGRAPHY No doubt most of you think biography dull reading. You would much rathersit down with a good story. But have you ever thought what a story is?It is nothing but a bit of make-believe biography. Let us see, in the first place, just what biography means. It is formedfrom two Greek words, "bios, " meaning life, and "graphein, " meaning towrite: life-writing. In other words, a biography is the story of thelife of some individual. Now what the novelist does is to write thebiographies of the people of his story; not usually from the cradle tothe grave, but for that crucial period of their careers which markedsome great success or failure; and he tries to make them so life-likeand natural that we will half-believe they are real people, and that thethings he tells about really happened. Sometimes, to accomplish this, heeven takes the place of one of his own characters, and tells the storyin the first person, as Dickens does in "David Copperfield. " That iscalled autobiography, which is merely a third Greek word, "autos, "meaning self, added to the others. An automobile, for instance, is aself-moving vehicle. So autobiography is the biography of oneself. Thegreat aim of the novelist is, by any means within his power, to make histale seem true, and the truer it is--the truer to human nature and thefacts of life--the greater is his triumph. Now why is it that everyone likes to read these make-believebiographies? Because we are all interested in what other people aredoing and thinking, and because a good story tells in an entertainingway about life-like people, into whom the story-teller has breathedsomething of his own personality. Then how does it come that so few ofus care to read the biographies of real people, which ought to be allthe more interesting because they are true instead of make-believe?Well, in the first place, because most of us have never tried to readbiography in the right way, and so think it tiresome and uninteresting. Haven't you, more than once, made up your mind that you wouldn't like athing, just from the look of it, without ever having tasted it? You knowthe old proverb, "One man's food is another man's poison. " It isn't atrue proverb--indeed, few proverbs are true--because we are all builtalike, and no man's food will poison any other man; although the otherman may think so, and may really show all the symptoms of poisoning, just because he has made up his mind to. Most of you approach biography in that way. You look through the book, and you see it isn't divided up into dialogue, as a story is, and thereare no illustrations, only pictures of crabbed-looking people, and soyou decide that you are not going to like it, and consequently you don'tlike it, no matter how likeable it is. It isn't wholly your fault that you have acquired this feeling. Strangely enough, most biographies give no such impression of reality asgood fiction does. John Ridd, for instance, is more alive for most of usthan Thomas Jefferson--the one is a flesh-and-blood personality, whilethe other is merely a name. This is because the average biographerapparently does not comprehend that his first duty is to make hissubject seem alive, or lacks the art to do it; and so produces merely alay-figure, draped with the clothing of the period. And usually hemisses the point and fails miserably because he concerns himself withthe mere doing of deeds, and not with that greatest of all things, thedevelopment of character. All great biographies are written with insight and imagination, as wellas with truth; that is, the biographer tries, in the first place, tofind out not only what his subject did, but what he thought; he tries torealize him thoroughly, and then, reconstructing the scenes throughwhich he moved, interprets him for us. He endeavors to give us therounded impression of a human being--of a man who really walked andtalked and loved and hated--so that we may feel that we knew him. Butmost biographies are seemingly written about statues on pedestals, andnot good statues at that. I am hoping to see the rise, some day, of a new school of biography, which will not hesitate to discard the inessential, which will disdainto glorify its subject, whose first duty it will be to strip away thefalsehoods of tradition and to show us the real man, not hiding hisimperfections and yet giving them no more prominence than they reallybore in his life; which will realize that to the man nothing was ofimportance except the growth of his spirit, and that to us nothing elseconcerning him is of any moment; which will show him to us illumined, asit were, from within, and which will count any other sort oflife-history as vain and worthless. What we need is biography by X-ray, and not by tallow candle. Until that time comes, dear reader, you yourself must supply the X-rayof insight. If you can learn to do that, you will find history andbiography the most interesting of studies. Biography is, of course, thebasis of all history, since history is merely the record of man'sfailures and successes; and, read thus, it is a wonderful and inspiringthing, for the successes so overtop the failures, the good so out-weighsthe bad. By the touchstone of imagination, even badly written biographymay be colored and vitalized. Try it--try to see the man you are readingabout as an actual human being; make him come out of the pages of thebook and stand before you; give him a personality. Watch for his humors, his mistakes, his failings--be sure he had them, however exalted he mayhave been--they will help to make him human. The spectacle ofWashington, riding forward in a towering rage at the battle ofMonmouth, has done more to make him real for us than any other incidentin his life. So the picture that Franklin gives of his landing atPhiladelphia and walking up Market street in the early morning, a loafof bread under either arm, brings him right home to us; though thissimple, kindly, and humorous philosopher is one of the realest figureson the pages of history. We love Andrew Jackson for his irasciblewrong-headedness, Farragut for his burst of wrath in Mobile harbor, Lincoln for his homely wisdom. I have said that, read as the record of man's failures and successes, history is an inspiring thing. Perhaps of the history of no country isthis so true as of that of ours. By far the larger part of our great menhave started at the very bottom of the ladder, in poverty and obscurity, and have fought their way up round by round against all the forces ofsociety. Nowhere else have inherited wealth and inherited positioncounted for so little as in America. Again, we have had no wars of greedor ambition, unless the war with Mexico could be so called. We have, atleast, had no tyrants--instead, we have witnessed the spectacle, uniquein history, of a great general winning his country's freedom, and thendisbanding his army and retiring to his farm. "The Cincinnatus of theWest, " Byron called him; and John Richard Green adds, "No nobler figureever stood in the forefront of a nation's life. " He has emerged from themists of tradition, from the sanctimonious wrappings in which the earlybiographers disguised him, has softened and broadened into the mosthuman of men, and has won our love as well as our veneration. George Washington was the founder. Beside his name, two others standout, serene and dominant: Christopher Columbus, the discoverer; AbrahamLincoln, the preserver. And yet, neither Columbus, nor Washington, norLincoln was what we call a genius--a genius, that is, in the sense inwhich Shakespeare or Napoleon or Galileo was a genius. But they combinedin singular degree those three characteristics without which no man maybe truly great: sincerity and courage and singleness of purpose. It is not without a certain awe that we contemplate these men--men likeourselves, let us always remember, but, in many ways, how different! Notdifferent in that they were infallible or above temptation; notdifferent in that they never made mistakes; but different in that theyeach of them possessed an inward vision of the true and the eternal, while most of us grope blindly amid the false and trivial. What thatvision was, and with what high faith and complete devotion they followedit, we shall see in the story of their lives. This is the basic difference between great men and little ones--thelittle ones are concerned solely with to-day; the great ones think onlyof the future. They have gained that largeness of vision and ofunderstanding which perceives the pettiness of everyday affairs andwhich disregards them for greater things. They live in the world, indeed, but in a world modified and colored by the divine ferment withinthem. There are some who claim that America has never produced a geniusof the first order, or, at most, but two; however that may be, she hasproduced, as has no other country, men with great hearts and seeing eyesand devoted souls who have spent themselves for their country and theirrace. One hears, sometimes, a grumbler complaining of the defects of arepublic; yet, certainly, in these United States, the republican form ofgovernment, established with no little fear and uncertainty by theFathers, has, with all its defects, received triumphant vindication. Nowhere more triumphant than in the men it has produced, the story ofwhose lives is the story of its history. There are two kinds of greatness--greatness of deed and greatness ofthought. The first kind is shown in the lives of such men as Columbusand Washington and Farragut, who translated thought into action and who_did_ great things. The second kind is the greatness of authors andartists and scientists, who write great books, or paint great picturesor make great discoveries, and this sort of greatness will be consideredin a future volume; for all there has been room for in this one is thestory of the lives of America's great "men of action. " And even of them, only a sketch in broad outline has been possible in space so limited;but this little book is merely a guide-post, as it were, pointing towardthe road leading to the city where these great men dwell--the City ofAmerican Biography. It is a city peopled with heroes. There are Travis and Crockett andBowie, who held The Alamo until they all were slain; there is Craven, who stepped aside that his pilot might escape from his sinking ship;there is Lawrence, whose last words are still ringing down the years;there is Nathan Hale, immortalized by his lofty bearing beneath thescaffold; there is Robert Gould Shaw, who led a forlorn hope at the headof a despised race;--even to name them is to review those great eventsin American history which bring proud tears to the eyes of every loverof his country. Of all this we shall tell, as simply as may be, giving the story of ourcountry's history and development in terms of its great men. So far aspossible, the text has been kept free of dates, because great men are ofall time, and, compared with the deeds themselves, their dates are ofminor importance. But a summary at the end of each chapter gives, forpurposes of convenient reference, the principal dates in the lives ofthe men whose achievements are considered in it. * * * * * In the preparation of these thumb-nail sketches, the present writermakes no pretense of original investigation. He has taken his materialwherever he could find it, making sure only that it was accurate, andhis sole purpose has been to give, in as few words as possible, acorrect impression of the man and what he did. From the facts as given, however, he has drawn his own conclusions, with some of which, no doubt, many people will disagree. But he has tried to paint the men truly, in afew strokes, as they appeared to him, without seeking to conceal theirweaknesses, but at the same time without magnifying them--rememberingalways that they were men, subject to mistakes and errors, to be honoredfor such true vision as they possessed; remarkable, many of them, forheroism and high devotion, and worthy a lasting place in the gratefulmemory of their country. The passage of years has a way of diminishing the stature of men thoughtgreat, and often of increasing that of men thought little. Few Americanstatesmen, for example, loom as large to-day as they appeared to theircontemporaries. Looking back at them, we perceive that, for the mostpart, they wasted their days in fighting wind-mills, or in doing thingswhich had afterwards to be undone. Only through the vista of the yearsdo we get a true perspective, just as only from a distance can we seewhich peaks of the mountain-range loom highest. But even the mist ofyears cannot dim essential heroism and nobility of achievement. Indeed, it enhances them; the voyage of Columbus seems to us a far greater thingthan his contemporaries thought it; Washington is for us a morevenerable figure than he was for the new-born Union; and Lincoln is justcoming into his own as a leader among men. Every boy and girl ought to try to gain as true and clear an idea aspossible of their country's history, and of the men who made thathistory. It is a pleasant study, and grows more and more fascinating asone proceeds with it. The great pleasure in reading is to understandevery word, and so to catch the writer's thought completely. Knowledgealways gives pleasure in just that way--by a wider understanding. Indeed, that is the principal aim of education: to enable the individualto get the most out of life by broadening his horizon, so that he seesmore and understands more than he could do if he remained ignorant. Andsince you are an American, you will need especially to understand yourcountry. You will be quite unable to grasp the meaning of the referencesto her story which are made every day in conversation, in newspapers, inbooks and magazines, unless you know that story; and you will also beunable properly to fulfil your duties as a citizen of this Republicunless you know it. For the earliest years, and, more especially, for the story of thedeadly struggle between French and English for the possession of thecontinent, the books to read above all others are those of FrancisParkman. He has clothed history with romantic fascination, and no onewho has not read him can have any adequate idea of the glowing andlife-like way in which those Frenchmen and Spaniards and Englishmen workout their destinies in his pages. The story of Columbus and of the earlyexplorers will be found in John Fiske's "Discovery of America, " a bookwritten simply and interestingly, but without Parkman's insight andwizardry of style--which, indeed, no other American historian can equal. A little book by Charles F. Lummis, called "The Spanish Pioneers, " alsogives a vivid picture of those early explorers. The story of John Smithand William Bradford and Peter Stuyvesant and William Penn will also befound in Fiske's histories dealing with Virginia and New England and theDutch and Quaker colonies. Almost any boy or girl will find theminteresting, for they are written with care, in simple language, and notwithout an engaging humor. There are so many biographies of Washington that it is difficult tochoose among them. Perhaps the most interesting are those by WoodrowWilson, Horace E. Scudder, Paul Leicester Ford, and Henry CabotLodge--all well-written and with an effort to give a true impression ofthe man. Of the other Presidents, no better biographies exist than thosein the "American Statesmen" series, where, of course, the lives of theprincipal statesmen are also to be found. Not all of them, nor, perhaps, even most of them are worth reading by the average boy or girl. There isno especial reason why the life of any man should be studied in detailafter he has ceased to be a factor in history. Of the Presidents, Washington, Jefferson, Jackson and Lincoln are still vital to the lifeof to-day, and of the statesmen there are a few, like Franklin, Hamilton, Webster, Calhoun and Clay, whose influence is still felt inour national life, but the remainder are negligible, except that youmust, of course, be familiar in a broad way with their characters andachievements to understand your country's story. History is the best place to learn the stories of the pioneers, soldiersand sailors. Archer Butler Hulburt has a little book, "Pilots of theRepublic, " which tells about some of the pioneers; John Fiske wrote ashort history of "The War of Independence, " which will tell you all youneed know about the soldiers of the Revolution, with the exception ofWashington; and you can learn about the battles of the Civil War fromany good history of the United States. There is a series called the"Great Commanders Series, " which tells the story, in detail, of thelives of American commanders on land and sea, but there is no reason whyyou should read any of them, with the exception of Lee, Farragut, andpossibly Grant, though you will find the lives of Taylor and "Stonewall"Jackson interesting in themselves. For the sailors, with the exceptionof Farragut, Barnes's "Yankee Ships and Yankee Sailors" will suffice;though every boy will enjoy reading Maclay's "History of the AmericanNavy, " where the story of our great sea-fights is told better than ithas ever been told before. These books may be found in almost any public library, and on theshelves there, too, you will probably find Elbert Hubbard's "LittleJourneys, " which give flashlight portraits of statesmen and soldiers andmany other people, vivid and interesting, but sometimes distorted, asflashlights have a way of being. Perhaps the librarian will permit you to look over the shelves where thebiographies and works dealing with American history are kept. Don't beover-awed by the number of volumes, because there are scores and scoreswhich are of no importance to you. Theodore Parker had a wrong ideaabout reading, for once upon a time he undertook to read all the booksin a library, beginning at the first one and proceeding along shelfafter shelf. He never finished the task, of course, because he foundout, after a while, that there are many books which are not worthreading, and many more which are of value only to specialists in certaindepartments of knowledge. No man can "know it all. " But every man shouldknow one thing well, and have a general knowledge of the rest. For instance, none but an astronomer need know the mathematics of thescience, but all of us should know the principal facts concerning theuniverse and the solar system, and it is a pleasure to us to recognizethe different constellations as we gaze up at the heavens on a cloudlessnight. None but a lawyer need spend his time reading law-books, but mostof us want to know the broad principles upon which justice isadministered. No one but an economist need bother with the abstracttheories of political economy, but if we are to be good citizens, wemust have a knowledge of its foundations, so that we may weighintelligently the solutions of public problems which different partiesoffer. So if you are permitted to look along the shelves of the public library, you will have no concern with the great majority of the books you seethere; but here and there one will catch your eye which interests you, and these are the ones for you to read. You have no idea how the habitof right reading will grow upon you, and what a delightful and valuablehabit it will prove to be. Like any other good habit, it takes pains atfirst to establish, an effort of will and self-control. But that veryeffort helps in the forming of character, and the habit of right readingis perhaps the best and most far-reaching in its effects that any boy orgirl can form. I hope that this little volume, and the other books whichI have mentioned, will help you to form it. * * * * * CHAPTER II THE BEGINNERS Nearly five hundred years ago, there lived, in the beautiful old Italiancity of Genoa, a poor wool-comber named Dominico Colombo, and about1446, a son was born to him and to his wife, Susanna, and in due timechristened Christoforo. The world into which the child was born was very different to the one inwhich we live. Europe was known, and northern Africa, and western Asia;but to the east stretched the fabulous country of the Grand Khan, Cathay, Cipango, and farthest Ind; while to the west rolled the Sea ofDarkness, peopled with unimaginable terrors. Of the youth of Christopher Columbus, as we call him, little is known. No doubt it was much like other boyhoods, and one likes to picture him, in such hours of leisure as he had, strolling about the streets ofGenoa, listening to the talk, staring in at the shop-windows, orwatching the busy life in the harbor. That the latter had a strongattraction for him there can be no doubt, for though he followed hisfather's trade till early manhood, he finally found his real vocation asa seaman. It was on the ocean that true romance dwelt, for it led tostrange lands and peoples, and no one knew what wonders and mysterieslay behind each horizon. It was there, too, high courage was developedand endurance, for it was there that men did battle hand to hand withnature's mightiest forces. It was the one career of the age which calledto the bold and adventurous spirit. What training Columbus received orwhat voyages he made we know not; but when, at about the age of thirty, he steps into the light of history, it is as a man with a wide andthorough knowledge of both the theory and practice of seamanship; a man, too, of keen mind and indomitable will, and with a mighty purposebrooding in his heart. It was natural enough that his eyes should turn to Portugal, forPortugal was the greatest sea-faring nation of the age. Her sailors haddiscovered the Madeira Islands, and crept little by little down thecoast of Africa, rounding this headland and that, searching always for apassage to India, which they knew lay somewhere to the east, until, atlast, they had sailed triumphantly around the Cape of Good Hope. It isworth remarking that Columbus's brother, Bartholomew, of whom we hear solittle, but who did so much for his brother's fame, was a member of thatexpedition, and Columbus himself must have gathered no littleinspiration from it. So to Lisbon Columbus went, and his ardent spirit found a great stimulusin the adventurous atmosphere of that bustling city. He went to work asa map-maker, marrying the daughter of one of the captains of PrinceHenry the Navigator, from whom he secured a great variety of maps, charts and memoranda. His business kept him in close touch with bothmariners and astronomers, so that he was acquainted with everydevelopment of both discovery and theory. In more than one mind theconviction was growing up that the eastern shore of Asia could bereached by sailing westward from Europe--a conviction springingnaturally enough from the belief that the earth was round, which wassteadily gaining wider and wider acceptance. In fact, a Florentineastronomer named Toscanelli furnished Columbus with a map showing howthis voyage could be accomplished, and Columbus afterwards used this mapin determining his route. That the idea was not original with Columbus takes nothing from hisfame; his greatness lies in being the first fully to grasp its meaning, fully to believe it, fully to devote his life to it. For the lastmeasure of a man's devotion to an idea is his willingness to stake hislife upon it, as Columbus staked his. The idea possessed him; there wasroom in him only for a dogged determination to realize it, to trampledown such obstacles as might arise to keep him from his goal. Andobstacles enough there were, for many years of waiting anddisappointment lay before him--years during which, a shabby andmelancholy figure, laughed at and scorned, mocked by the very childrenin the streets, he "begged his way from court to court, to offer toprinces the discovery of a world. " And here again was his truegreatness--that he did not despair, that his spirit remained unbrokenand his high heart still capable of hope. Yet let us not idealize him too much. The eagerness to reach the Indieswas wholly because of the riches which they possessed. The spice tradewas especially coveted, and tradition told of golden cities of fabulouswealth and beauty which lay in the country to the east. The great motivebehind all the early voyages was hope of gain, and Columbus had his fullshare of it. Yet there grew up within him, in time, something more thanthis--a love of the project for its own sake--though to the very last, alittle overbalanced, perhaps, by his great idea, he insisted upon therewards and honors which must be his in case of success. With his route well-outlined and his plans carefully matured, Columbusturned naturally to the King of Portugal, John II. , as a man interestedin all nautical enterprise, and especially interested in finding a routeto the Indies. That crafty monarch listened to Columbus attentively andwas evidently impressed, for he took possession of the maps and planswhich Columbus had prepared, under pretense of examining them whileconsidering the project, placed them in the hands of one of his owncaptains and dispatched him secretly to try the route. That captain, whose name has been lost to history, must afterwards have been chagrinedenough at the manner in which he missed immortal fame, for, aftersailing a few days to the westward, he turned back and reported to hisroyal master that the thing could not be done. His was not the heartfor such an enterprise. Columbus, learning of the king's treachery, left the court in disgust, and sending his brother, Bartholomew, to lay the plan before the King ofEngland, himself proceeded to Spain, whose rulers, Ferdinand andIsabella, were perhaps the most enlightened of the age. Of Bartholomew'sadventures in England little is known. One thing alone iscertain--England missed the great opportunity just as Portugal had. Andfor long years it seemed that, in Spain, Columbus would have no betterfortune. The Spanish monarchs listened to him with interest--as whowould not?--and appointed a council of astronomers and map-makers toexamine the project and to pass upon its feasibility. This council, notwithout the connivance of the king and queen, who were absorbed in warwith the Moors, and who, at the same time, did not wish the plan to betaken elsewhere, kept Columbus waiting for six years, alternatingbetween hope and despair, and finally reported that the project was"vain and impossible of execution. " Indignant at thought of the years he had wasted, Columbus determined toproceed to Paris, to seek an audience of the King of France. His wifewas dead, and he started for Palos, with his little son, Diego, intending to leave the boy with his wife's sister there, while hehimself journeyed on to Paris. Trudging wearily across the country, theycame one night to the convent of La Rabida, and Columbus stopped to askfor a crust of bread and cup of water for the child. The prior, JuanPerez de Marchena, struck by his noble bearing, entered intoconversation with him and was soon so interested that he invited thetravellers in. Marchena had been Isabella's confessor, and still had great influencewith her. After carefully considering the project which Columbus laidbefore him, he went to the queen in person and implored her toreconsider it. His plea was successful, and Columbus was again summonedto appear at court, a small sum of money being sent him so that he neednot appear in rags. The Spanish monarchs received him well, but whenthey found that he demanded the title of admiral at once, and, in caseof success, the title of viceroy, together with a tenth part of allprofits resulting from either trade or conquest, they abruptly broke offthe negotiations, and Columbus, mounting a mule which had been givenhim, started a second time for Paris. He had proceeded four or fivemiles, in what sadness and turmoil of spirit may be imagined, when aroyal messenger, riding furiously, overtook him and bade him return. Histerms had been accepted. This is what had happened: In despair at the departure of Columbus, Luisde Santangel, receiver of the revenues of Aragon, and one of the fewconverts to his theories, had obtained an audience of the queen, andpointed out to her, with impassioned eloquence, the glory which Spainwould win should Columbus be successful. The queen's patriotic ardorwas enkindled, and when Ferdinand still hesitated, she cried, "Iundertake the enterprise for my own crown of Castile. I will pledge myjewels to raise the money that is needed!" Santangel assured her that hehimself was ready to provide the money, and advanced seventeen thousandflorins from the coffers of Aragon, so that Ferdinand paid for theexpedition, after all. It is in no way strange that the demands of Columbus should have beenthought excessive; indeed, the wonderful thing is that they should, under any circumstances, have been agreed to. Here was a man, to allappearances a penniless adventurer, asking for honors, dignities andrewards which any grandee of Spain might have envied him. That theyshould have been granted was due to the impulsive sympathy of Isabellaand the indifference of her royal consort, who said neither yes nor no;though, in the light of subsequent events, it is not improbable that thethought may have crossed his mind that royal favor may always bewithdrawn, and that the hand which gives may also take away. But though Columbus had triumphed in this particular, his trials were byno means at an end. The little port of Palos was commanded by royalorder to furnish the new Admiral with two small vessels known ascaravels. This was soon done, but no sailors were willing to embark onsuch a voyage, the maddest in all history. Only by the most extrememeasures, by impressment and the release of criminals willing toaccompany the expedition in order to get out of jail, were crewsfinally provided. A third small vessel was secured, and on the morningof Friday, August 3, 1492, this tiny fleet of three boats, the SantaMaria, the Pinta and the Niña, whose combined crews numbered less thanninety men, sailed out from Palos on the grandest voyage the world hasever known. The shore was lined with people weeping and wringing their hands for therelatives and friends whom they were sure they should never see again, and most of the sailors were certain that they were bidding farewellforever to their native land. Even at the present day, few men wouldcare to undertake such a voyage in such ships. The two little caravels, Niña and Pinta, were decked only at stern and prow. The Santa Maria wasbut little larger, her length being only about sixty feet, and all threeof the vessels were old, leaky, and in need of frequent repairs. The map which Toscanelli had given Columbus years before showed Japanlying directly west of the Canaries, so to the Canaries Columbus steeredhis fleet, and then set forth westward into the unknown. By a fortunatechance, it was the very best route he could have chosen, for he came atonce into the region of the trade winds, which, blowing steadily fromthe east, drove the vessels westward day after day over a smooth sea. But this very thing, favorable as it was, added greatly to the terror ofthe men. How were they to get back to Spain, with the wind alwaysagainst them? What was the meaning of a sea as smooth as their ownGuadalquiver? They implored Columbus to turn back; but to turn back wasthe last thing in his thoughts. An opportune storm helped to reassurehis men by proving that the wind did not always blow from the east andthat the sea was not always calm. But there were soon other causes of alarm. The compass varied strangely, and what hope for them was there if this, their only guide, provedfaithless? They ran into vast meadows of floating seaweed, the SargassoSea, and it seemed certain that the ships would soon be so entangledthat they could move neither backward nor forward. Still Columbus pushedsteadily on, and his men's terror and angry discontent deepened untilthey were on the verge of mutiny; various plots were hatched and it wasevident that affairs would soon reach a crisis. One can guess the Admiral's thoughts as he paced the poop of his ship onthat last night, pausing from time to time to strain his eyes into thedarkness. Picture him to yourself--a tall and imposing figure, clad inthat gray habit of the Franciscan missionary he liked to wear; the facestern and lined with care, the eyes gray and piercing, the high nose andlong chin telling of a mighty will, the cheeks ruddy and freckled fromlife in the open, the white hair falling about his shoulders. Picturehim standing there, a memorable figure, whose hour of triumph was athand. He knew the desperate condition of things--none better; he knewthat his men were for the most part criminals and cowards; at anymoment they might rise and make him prisoner or throw him overboard. Well, until that moment, he would hold his ship's prow to the west! Fortwenty years he had labored to get this chance; he would rather die thanfail. And then, suddenly, far ahead, he saw a light moving low along thehorizon. It disappeared, reappeared, and then vanished altogether. Thelookout had also seen it, and soon after, as the moon rose, a gun fromthe Pinta, which was in the lead, announced that land had been sighted. It was soon plainly visible to everyone, a low beach gleaming white inthe moonlight, and the ships hove-to until daybreak. In the early dawn of the twelfth day of October, 1492, the boats werelowered, and Columbus and a large part of his company went ashore, wildwith exultation. They found themselves on a small island, and Columbusnamed it San Salvador. It was one of the Bahamas, but which one is notcertainly known. Columbus, of course, believed himself near the coast ofAsia, and spent two months in searching for Japan, discovering a numberof islands, but no trace of the land of gold and spices which he sought. One of his ships was wrecked and the captain of the third sailed away tosearch for gold on his own account, so that it was in the little Niñaalone that Columbus at last set sail for Spain. [Illustration: COLUMBUS] It was no longer a summer sea through which the tiny vessel ploughed herway, but a sea swept by savage hurricanes. More than once it seemedthat the ship must founder, but by some miracle it kept afloat, andon March 15, 1493, sailed again into the port of Palos. The greatnavigator was received with triumphal honors by Ferdinand and Isabella, and invited to sit in their presence while he told the wonderful storyof his discoveries. Wonderful indeed! Yet what a dizziness would have seized that audiencecould they have guessed the truth! Could they have guessed that theproud kingdom of Spain was but an insignificant patch compared with thevast continent Columbus had discovered and upon which a score of nationswere to dwell. The life-work of the great navigator practically ended on the day hetold his story to the court of Spain, for, though he led three otherexpeditions across the ocean, the discoveries they made were of no greatimportance. Not a trace did he find of that golden country, which hesought so eagerly, and at last, broken in health and fortune, indisfavor at court, stripped of the rewards and dignities which had beenpromised him, he died in a little house at Valladolid on the twentiethof May, 1506. He believed to the last that it was the Indies he haddiscovered, never dreaming that he had given a new continent to theworld. Yet is his fame secure, for the task which he accomplished was unique, never to be repeated. He had robbed the Sea of Darkness of its terrors, and while those who followed him had need of courage and resolution, itwas no longer into the unknown that they sailed forth. They knew thatthere was no danger of sailing over the edge and dropping off intospace; they knew that there were no dragons, nor monsters, nor otherblood-curdling terrors to be encountered, but that the other side of theworld was much like the side they lived on. That was Columbus's greatachievement. To cross the Atlantic, perilous as the voyage was, wasafter all a little thing; but actually to _start_--to surmount the wallof bigotry and ignorance which, for centuries, had shut the west awayfrom the east, to surmount that wall and throw it down by a faith whichrose superior to human belief and incredulity and terror of theunknown--there was the miracle! * * * * * Many there were to follow, each contributing his mite toward the task ofdefining the new continent. Perhaps you have seen a photographicnegative slowly take shape in the acid bath--the sharp out-lines first, then, bit by bit, the detail. Just so did America grow beneath the gazeof Europe, though two centuries and more were to elapse before it stoodout upon the map clean-cut and definite from border to border. First to follow Columbus, and the first white men since the vikings toset foot on the North American continent, which Columbus himself hadnever seen, were John and Sebastian Cabot, Italians like theirpredecessor, but in the service of the King of England and with anEnglish ship and an English crew prophetic of the race which was, intime, to wrest the supremacy of the continent from the other nations ofEurope. They explored the coast from Newfoundland as far south, perhaps, as Chesapeake Bay, and upon their discoveries rested the English claimto North America, though they themselves are little more than faint andill-defined shadows upon the page of history, so little do we know ofthem. And just as the New World was eventually to be dominated by a nationother than that which first took possession of it, so was it to be namedafter a man other than its discoverer: an inconsiderable adventurernamed Amerigo Vespucci, a Florentine, who accompanied three or fourSpanish expeditions as astronomer or pilot, but who had no part in anyreal discovery in the New World. He wrote a number of letters describingthe voyages which he claimed to have made, and one of these was printedin a pamphlet which had a wide circulation, so that Vespucci's name cameto be connected in the public mind with the new land in the west muchmore prominently than that of any other man. In 1502, in a little bookdealing with the new discoveries, the suggestion was made that there wasnothing "rightly to hinder us from calling it [the New World] Amerige orAmerica, i. E. , the land of Americus, " and America it wasthenceforward--one of the great injustices of history. Since it had tobe so, let us be thankful that it was Vespucci's first name which wasselected, and not his last one. Meanwhile, the Spaniards had pushed their way across the Caribbean andexplored the shores of the gulf, finding at last in Mexico a land ofgold. World-worn, disease-racked Ponce de Leon, conqueror and governorof Porto Rico, struggled through the everglades of Florida, seeking thefountain of eternal youth, and getting his death-wound there instead. Ferdinand Magellan, man of iron if there ever was one, seeking a westernpassage to the Moluccas, skirted the coast of South America, winteredamid the snows of Patagonia, worked his way through the strait whichbears his name, and held on westward across the Pacific, making thefirst circumnavigation of the globe, a feat so startling in audacitythat there is none in our day to compare with it, except, perhaps, ajourney to another planet. Magellan himself never again saw Europe, meeting his death in a fight with the natives of the Philippines, butone of his ships, with eighteen men, struggled south along the coast ofAfrica, around the Cape of Good Hope, and so home. Half a century was to elapse before the feat was repeated--this time bythat slave-trader, pirate, and doughty scourge of the Spaniard, SirFrancis Drake, who, following in Magellan's wake, and pausing only longenough to harry the Spanish settlements in Chili and Peru and capture aSpanish treasureship, held northward along the coast as far as southernOregon, and then turned westward across the Pacific, around the Cape ofGood Hope, and home again, where Elizabeth, in spite of Spanishprotests, was waiting to reward him with a touch of sword to shoulder. The Muse of History smiles ironically when she records that Drake'sprincipal discovery in the New World was that of the potato, which heintroduced into England. Not until Drake's voyage was completed was the vast extent of the NorthAmerican continent even suspected, although its interior had beenexplored in many directions. Hernando de Soto, with an experience gainedwith Pizarro in the conquest of Peru, and succeeding Ponce de Leon inthe governorship of Florida, marched with a great expedition throughwhat is now South Carolina, Tennessee and Georgia, and came out, atlast, upon the Mississippi, only to find burial beneath its waters, while the tattered remnant of his force staggered back to Mexico. Francisco de Coronado, marching northward from Mexico, in search of thefabled Seven Cities of Cibola, found only the squalid villages of theZuni Indians, after stumbling on the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, andmarching as far north as the southern line of Kansas. Jacques Cartier, following another will-o'-the-wisp to the north, and searching for thestoried city of Norembega, supposed to exist somewhere in the wildernesssouth of Cape Breton, found it not, indeed, but laid the foundations forthe great empire which France was to establish along the St. Lawrence. And Henry Hudson, in the little Half-Moon, chartered by a company ofthrifty Dutchmen to search for the northwest passage, blundered insteadupon the mighty river which bears his name, explored it as far north asthe present city of Albany, and paved the way for that picturesqueDutch settlement which grew into the greatest city of the New World. Hedid more than that, for, persevering in the search and sailing far tothe north, he came, at last, into the great bay also named for him, where tragic fate lay waiting. For there, in that icy fastness of thenorth, his mutinous crew bound him, set him adrift in a small boat, andsailed away and left him. So, by the beginning of the seventeenth century, the New World wasfairly well defined upon the maps which the map-makers were alwaysindustriously drawing; and so were the spheres of influence where eachnation was to be for a time paramount; the Spaniards in the Gulf ofMexico, the Dutch along the Hudson, the French on the St. Lawrence, andthe English on the long coast to the south. But in all the leagues andleagues from the St. Lawrence to the Gulf, nowhere had the white man asyet succeeded in gaining a permanent foothold. * * * * * Although the continent of North America had been discovered by JohnCabot in 1497, nearly a century elapsed before England made any seriousattempt to take possession of it. Cabot's voyages had created littleimpression, for he had returned from them empty-handed; instead offinding the passage to the Indies which he sought, he had discoverednothing but an inconvenient and apparently worthless barrier stretchingacross the way, and for many years the great continent was regarded onlyin that light, and such explorations as were made were with the oneobject of getting through it or around it. In fact, as late as 1787, opinion in Europe was divided as to whether the discovery of the NewWorld had been a blessing or a curse. But Spain had been working industriously. The honor of giving America tothe world was hers, and she followed that first discovery by centuriesof such pioneering as the world had never seen. Her explorers overranMexico and Peru, discovered the Mississippi, the Pacific, carved theirway up into the interior of the continent, looked down upon the wondersof the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, founded settlements up and down theland from Kansas to Chili--yes, and did more than that. They opened thefirst churches, set up the first presses, printed the first books, wrotethe first histories, drew the first accurate maps. They establishedschools among the Indians, sent missionaries to them, translated theBible into twelve Indian dialects, made thousands of converts, andestablished an Indian policy as humane and enlightened--once Spanishsupremacy was recognized--as any in the world. The savages with whomSpain had to contend were the deadliest, the most cruel, that Europeansever encountered--no more resembling the warriors of King Philip and thePowhatan than a house-cat resembles a panther. They conquered themwithout extermination, and converted them to Christianity! An amazingfeat, and one which disposes for all time of that old, outworn legendthat the Spain of the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries was amoribund and degenerate nation. But a change was at hand. The world moved, and Spain, chained to anoutworn superstition, did not move with it. The treasure she drew fromMexico and Peru she poured out to prop the tottering pillars of churchdespotism; and the end came when, in 1588, Elizabeth's doughty captainswiped out the "invincible" armada, and dethroned Spain for all time fromher position as mistress of the seas. It was then that English eyes turned toward the New World and thatprojects of colonization were set afoot in earnest; and the one greatdominant hero of that early movement was Sir Walter Raleigh. He hadaccompanied his half-brother, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, on a voyage to theNew World ten years earlier, and after Gilbert's tragic death, took overthe patent for land in America which Gilbert held. It is worth notingthat this patent provided in the plainest terms that such colonies asmight be planted in America should be self-governing in the fullestsense--a provision also included in the patent granted to the companywhich afterwards succeeded in gaining and maintaining a foothold on theJames. Raleigh spent nearly a million dollars in endeavoring to establish acolony on Roanoke Island--a colony which absolutely disappeared, andwhose fate was never certainly discovered; and it was not until theVirgin Queen, after whom all that portion of the country had been named, was dead, and Raleigh himself, shorn of his estates, was a prisoner inthe Tower under charge of treason, that a new charter was given to anassociation of influential men known as the Virginia Company, which wasdestined to have permanent results. On New Year's Day, 1607, anexpedition of three ships, carrying, besides their crews, one hundredand five colonists, started on the voyage across the ocean, undercommand of Captain Christopher Newport. Among Newport's company was ascarred and weather-beaten soldier, who was soon to assume control ofevents through sheer fitness for the task, and who bore that commonestof all English names, John Smith. But John Smith's career had been anything but common. Born inLincolnshire in 1579, and early left an orphan, he had gone to theNetherlands while still in his teens, and had spent three years therefighting against the Spaniards. A year or two later, he had embarkedwith a company of Catholic pilgrims for the Levant, intent on fightingagainst the Turk, but a storm arose which all attributed to the presenceof the Huguenot heretic on board, and he was forthwith flung into thesea. Whether the storm thereupon abated, history does not state, butSmith managed to swim to a small island, from which he was rescued nextday. Journeying across Europe to Styria, he entered the service ofEmperor Rudolph II. , and spent two or three years fighting against theTurks, accomplishing feats so surprising that one would be inclined toclass them with those of Baron Munchausen, were they not, for the mostpart, well authenticated. He was captured, at last, but managed toescape, and made his way across the Styrian desert, through Russia, Poland, Hungary, Bohemia, and finally back to England, just in time tomeet Captain Newport, and arrange to sail with him for Virginia. It is not remarkable that a man tried by such experiences should, fromthe first, have taken a prominent part in the enterprise. An unwelcomepart in the beginning, for scarcely had the voyage begun, when he wasaccused of plotting mutiny, arrested and kept in irons until the shipsreached Virginia. Late in April, the fleet entered Hampton Roads, andproceeding up the river, which was forthwith named the James, came atlast on May 13th, to a low peninsula which seemed suited for asettlement. The next day they set to work building a fort, which theycalled Fort James, but the settlement soon came to be known asJamestown. Once the fort was finished, Captain Newport sailed back to England forsupplies, and the little settlement was soon in desperate straits forfood. Within three months, half of the colonists were in their graves, and bitter feuds arose among the survivors. These were for the most part"gentlemen adventurers, " who had accompanied the expedition in the hopeof finding gold, and who were wholly unfitted to cope with theconditions in which they found themselves. Of all of them, Smith was byfar the most competent, and he did valiant service in trading with theIndians for corn and in conducting a number of expeditions in search ofgame. It was while on one of these, in December, 1607, that that incident ofhis career occurred which is all that a great many people know ofCaptain John Smith. With two companions, he was paddling in a canoe upthe Chickahominy, when the party was attacked by Indians. Smith's twocompanions were killed, and he himself saved his life only by exhibitinghis compass and doing other things to astonish and impress the savages. He was finally taken captive to the Powhatan, the ruler of the tribe, and, according to Smith's story, a long debate ensued among the Indiansas to his fate. Presently two large stones were laid before the chief, and Smith was dragged to them and his head forced down upon them, buteven as one of the warriors raised his club to dash out the captive'sbrains, the Powhatan's daughter, a child of thirteen named Pocahontas, threw herself upon him, shielding his head with hers, and claimed himfor her own, after the Indian custom. Smith was thereupon released, adopted into the tribe, and sent back to Jamestown, where he arrived onthe eighth of January, 1608. From the Indian standpoint, there was nothing especially unusual aboutthis procedure, for any member of the tribe was privileged to claim acaptive, if he wished. A century before, Ortiz, a member of De Soto'sexpedition, had been captured by the Indians and saved in precisely thesame way, and many instances of the kind occurred in the years whichfollowed. But to the captive, it partook of the very essence ofromance; he had only the dimmest idea of what was really happening, andhis account of it, written many years later, was of the most sentimentalkind. Many doubts have been cast on the story, and historians seemhopelessly divided about it, as they are about many other incidents ofSmith's life. Certain it is, however, that Pocahontas afterwardsbefriended the colony on more than one occasion; and was finallyconverted, married to a planter named John Rolfe, and taken to England, where, among the artificialities of court life, she soon sickened anddied. On the very day that Smith reached Jamestown with his Indian escort, thesupply ship sent out by Captain Newport also arrived, bringing 120 newcolonists. Of the original 105, only thirty-eight were left alive. ButSmith's enemies were yet in the ascendancy, and he spent the summer of1608 in exploration, leaving the colony to its own devices. When hereturned to it in September, he found it reduced and disheartened. Hisbrave and cheery presence acted as a tonic, and at last the colonists, appreciating him at his true value, elected him president. He put newlife into everyone, and when, soon afterwards, Newport arrived againfrom England with fresh supplies, he found the colony in fairly goodshape. But the members of the Virginia Company were growing impatient at thefailure of the venture to bring any returns, and they sent outinstructions by Newport demanding that either a lump of gold be sentback to England or that the way to the South Sea be discovered. Smithsaid plainly that the instructions were ridiculous, and wrote an answerto them in blunt soldier English. Then, turning his hand in earnest tothe government of the disorderly rabble under him, he instituted an irondiscipline, whipped the laggards into line, and by the end of April hadsome twenty houses built, thirty or forty acres of ground broken up andplanted, nets and weirs arranged for fishing, a new fortress under way, and various small manufactures begun. A great handicap was the system, by which all property was held in common, so that the drones sharedequally with the workers, but Smith took care that there should be fewdrones. There can be no doubt that his sheer will power kept the colonytogether, but his credit with the company was undermined by enemies inEngland, nor did his own blunt letter help matters. The company wasre-organized on a larger scale, a new governor appointed, new colonistsstarted on the way; and, finally, in 1609, Smith was so seriouslywounded by the explosion of a bag of gun-powder, that he gave up thestruggle and returned to England. Instant disaster followed. When he left the colony, it numbered fivehundred souls; when the next supply ship reached it in May, 1610, itconsisted of sixty scarecrows, mere wrecks of human beings. The rest hadstarved to death--or been eaten by their companions! There was a hastyconsultation, and it was decided that Virginia must be abandoned. OnThursday, June 7, 1610, the cabins were stripped of such things as wereof value, and the whole company went on shipboard and started down theriver--only to meet, next day, in Hampton Roads, a new expedition headedby the new governor, Lord Delaware, himself! By this slight thread ofcoincidence was the fate of Virginia determined. The ship put about at once, and on the following Sunday morning, LordDelaware stepped ashore at Jamestown, and, falling to his knees, thankedGod that he had been in time to save Virginia. He proceeded at once toplace the colony upon a new and sounder basis, and it was never again indanger of extinction, though Jamestown itself was finally abandoned asunsuited to a settlement on account of its malarious atmosphere. ButVirginia itself grew apace into one of the greatest of England'scolonies in America. John Smith himself never returned to Virginia. In 1614, he explored thecoast south of the Penobscot, giving it the name it still bears, NewEngland. A year later, while on another expedition, he was captured bythe French and forced to serve against the Spaniards. Broken in healthand fortune, he spent his remaining years in London, dying there in1631. There is a portrait of him, showing him as a handsome, beardedman, with nose and mouth bespeaking will and spirit--just such a man asone would imagine this gallant soldier of fortune to have been. While the English, under the guiding hand of John Smith, were fightingdesperately to maintain themselves upon the James, the French werestruggling to the same purpose and no less desperately along the St. Lawrence. We have seen how Jacques Cartier explored and named thatregion, but civil and religious wars in France put an end to plans ofcolonization for half a century, and it was not until 1603 that SamuelChamplain, the founder of New France, and one of the noblest charactersin American history, embarked for the New World. Samuel Champlain was born at Brouage about 1567, the son of a sea-faringfather, and his early years were spent upon the sea. He served in thearmy of the Fourth Henry, and after the peace with Spain, made a voyageto Mexico. Upon his return to France in 1603, he found a fleet preparingto sail to Canada, and at once joined it. Some explorations were made ofthe St. Lawrence, but the fleet returned to France within the year, without accomplishing anything in the way of colonization. Anotherexpedition in the following year saw the founding of Port Royal, whileChamplain made a careful exploration of the New England coast, but hefound nothing that attracted him as did the mighty river to the north. Thither, in 1608, he went, and sailing up the river to a point where amighty promontory rears its head, disembarked and erected the first rudehuts of the city which he called by the Indian name of Quebec, or "TheNarrows. " A wooden wall was built, mounting a few small cannon andloopholed for musketry, and the conquest of Canada had begun. Amagnificent cargo of furs was dispatched to France, and Champlain andtwenty-eight men were left to winter at Quebec. When spring came, onlynine were left alive, but reinforcements and supplies soon arrived, andChamplain arranged to proceed into the interior and explore the country. The resources at his disposal were small, he could not hope to assemblea great expedition; so he determined to make the venture with only a fewmen and little baggage, relying upon the friendship of the Indians, instead of seeking to conquer them, as the Spaniards had always done. Champlain had from the first treated the Indians well, and it was thisnecessity of gaining their friendship that determined the policy whichFrance pursued--the policy of making friends of the Indians, enteringinto an alliance with them, and helping them fight their battles. Champlain opened operations by joining an Algonquin war-party againstthe Iroquois, and assisting at their defeat--starting, at the same time, a blood feud with that powerful tribe which endured as long as theFrench held Canada. In the course of this expedition, he discovered thebeautiful lake which bears his name. He went back to France for a time, after that, and on his next return toCanada, in 1611, began building a town at the foot of a rock which hadbeen named Mont Royal, since corrupted to Montreal. Succeeding yearswere spent in further explorations, which carried him across LakeOntario, and in plans for the conversion of the Indians, to which theaid of the Jesuits was summoned. Missions were established, and theintrepid priests pushed their way farther and farther into thewilderness. To this work, Champlain gave more and more of his thought inthe last years of his life, which ended on Christmas day, 1635. Among the young men whom Champlain set to work among the Indians wasJean Nicolet. The year before his death, Champlain sent him on anexploring expedition to the west, in the course of which he visited LakeMichigan and perhaps Lake Superior. Following in his footsteps, theJesuits gradually established missions as far west as the WisconsinRiver, and, finally, in 1670, at Sault Ste. Marie, the French formallytook possession of the whole Northwest. It was at about this time there appeared upon the scene another of thosepicturesque and formidable figures, in which this period of Americanhistory so abounds--Robert Cavalier La Salle. La Salle was at that timeonly twenty years of age. He had reached Canada four years earlier andhad devoted himself for three years to the study of the Indianlanguages, in order to fit himself for the career of western explorationwhich he contemplated. One day he was visited by a party of Senecas, whotold him of a river, which they called the Ohio, so great that manymonths were required to traverse it. From their description, La Salleconcluded that it must fall into the Gulf of California, and so form thelong-sought passage to China. He determined to explore it, and aftersurmounting innumerable obstacles, actually did reach it, and descend itas far as the spot where the city of Louisville now stands, afterwardsexploring the Illinois and the country south of the Great lakes, as wellas the lakes themselves. Fired by La Salle's report of his discoveries, two other Frenchmen, Louis Joliet, a native of Quebec, who had already led an expedition insearch of the copper mines of Lake Superior, and Jacques Marquette, aJesuit priest and accomplished linguist, started on a still greaterjourney. With five companions and two birchbark canoes, they headed downthe Wisconsin river, and on June 17, 1673, glided out upon the bluewaters of the Mississippi. A fortnight later, they reached a littlevillage called Peoria, where the Indians received them well, andcontinuing down the river, passed the Missouri, the Ohio, and finally, having gone far enough to convince themselves that the river emptiedinto the Gulf of Mexico and not into the Gulf of California, they turnedabout and reached Green Bay again in September, having paddled more than2, 500 miles. Marquette, shattered in health, remained at Green Bay, while Joliet pushed on to Montreal to tell of his discoveries. Marquetterallied sufficiently at the end of a year to attempt a mission among theIllinois Indians, where death found him in the spring of 1675. Jolietspent his last years in a vain endeavor to persuade the government ofFrance to undertake on a grand scale the development of the rich landsalong the Mississippi. But the story which Joliet took back with him to Quebec fired anew theambition of La Salle. He conceived New France as a great empire in thewilderness, and he determined to descend the mighty river to its mouthand establish a city there which would hold the river for France againstall comers. Such occupation would, according to French doctrine, giveFrance an indisputable right to the whole territory which the river andits tributaries drained, and La Salle's plan was to establish a chain offorts stretching from Lake Erie to the Gulf, to build up around thesegreat cities, and so to lay the foundations for the mightiest empire inhistory. We may well stand amazed before a plan so ambitious, and beforethe determination with which this great Frenchman set about itsaccomplishment. To most men, such a scheme seemed but the dream of an enthusiast; but LaSalle was in deadly earnest, and for eight years he labored to perfectthe details of the plan. At last, on April 9, 1682, he planted the flagof France at the mouth of the Mississippi, naming the country Louisianain honor of his royal master, whose property it was solemnly declared tobe. That done, the intrepid explorer hastened back to France; a fleetwas fitted out and attempted to sail directly to the mouth of the greatriver, but missed it; the ships were wrecked on the coast of Texas, andLa Salle was shot from ambush by two of his own followers whilesearching on foot for the river. So ended La Salle's part in the accomplishment of a plan which, grandiose as it was, reached a sort of realization--for a great Frenchcity near the mouth of the river _was_ built and a thin chain of fortsconnecting it with Canada, where the French power remained unbroken forthree quarters of a century longer; while not until the beginning of thenineteenth century, when the royal line of Louis had been succeeded by asoldier of fortune from Corsica, did the great territory which La Sallehad named Louisiana pass from French possession. * * * * * On the nineteenth day of November, 1620, fourteen years after thesettlement of Jamestown and twelve after the settlement of Quebec, astorm-beaten vessel of 120 tons burthen crept into the lee of Cape Codand dropped anchor in that welcome refuge. The vessel was the Mayflower, and she had just completed the most famous voyage in American history, after that of Columbus. The colonists she carried, about a hundred innumber, Separatists from the Church of England, have come down throughhistory as the "Pilgrim Fathers. " Among them was one destined to rulethe fortunes of the colony for more than a quarter of a century. Hisname was William Bradford, and he was at that time thirty years of age. Bradford was born in 1590 at Austerfield, in Yorkshire, England, and atthe age of sixteen, joined a company of Puritans or Separatists, whichmet for a time at the little town of Scrooby, but, being threatened withpersecution, resolved to remove to Holland. Most of the congregation gotaway without interference, but Bradford and a few others were arrestedand spent several months in prison. As soon as he was released, hejoined the colony in Amsterdam, and afterwards, in 1609, removed with itto Leyden. But the newcomers found themselves out of sympathy with Dutchcustoms and habits of thought, and after long debate, determined toremove to America and found a colony of their own. A patent wasobtained, the Mayflower chartered, the congregation put aboard, and thevoyage begun on the fifth day of September, 1620. The colonists expected to settle somewhere near the mouth of the Hudson, but, whether by accident or design, their captain brought up off CapeCod, and it was decided to land there. After some days' search, asuitable site for a settlement was found, work was begun on houses andfortifications, and the place was named New Plymouth. Jonathan Carver had been chosen the first governor and guided the colonythrough the horrors of that first winter; the story of Jamestown wasrepeated, and by the coming of spring, more than half the colonists weredead. Among them was Carver himself, and William Bradford was at oncechosen to succeed him. There can be no doubt that it was to Bradford'swise head and strong hand the colony owed its quick rally, and itsescape from the prolonged misery which makes horrible the early historyof Virginia. He seems to have possessed a temper resolute, butmagnanimous and patient to an unusual degree, together with a religionsincere and devoted, yet neither intolerant nor austere. What resultscan be accomplished by a combination of qualities at once so rare and soadmirable is shown by the work which William Bradford did at Plymouth, over which he ruled almost continuously until his death, thirty-sevenyears later. Bradford's success lay first in his courage in doing away with thepernicious system by which all the property was held in common. In doingthis, he violated the rules of his company, but he saw that utterfailure lay the other way. He divided the colony's land among theseveral families, in proportion to their number, and compelled eachfamily to shift for itself. The communal system had nearly wreckedJamestown and would have wrecked Plymouth had not Bradford had thecourage to disregard all precedent and make each family its ownprovider. Years afterwards, in commenting on the results of thisrevolutionary change, he wrote, "Any general want or suffering hath notbeen among them since to this day. " And, indeed, this was true. Under Bradford's guidance, the little colonyincreased steadily in wealth and numbers, and became the sure forerunnerof the great Puritan migration of 1630, which founded the colony ofMassachusetts, into which the older colony of Plymouth was finallyabsorbed. Of Bradford himself, little more remains to be told. Theestablishment of Plymouth Plantation was his life work. He was a farbigger man than most of his contemporaries, with a broader outlook uponlife and deeper resources within himself. One of these was a literaryculture which fairly sets him apart as the first American man ofletters. He wrote an entertaining history of his colony, as well as anumber of philosophical and theological works, all marked with a styleand finish noteworthy for their day. * * * * * The government of the colony of Massachusetts presented, for over half acentury, the most perfect union of church and state ever witnessed inAmerica. The secular arm was ever ready to support the religious, and tocompel every resident of the colony to walk in the strait and narrow wayof Puritanism. This was a task easy enough at first, but growing moreand more difficult as the character of the settlers became more diverse, until, finally, it had to be abandoned altogether. One of the first and most formidable of all those who dared arraythemselves against this bulwark of Puritanism was Roger Williams. He wasthe son of a merchant tailor of London, had developed into a precociousboy, had shown a leaning toward Puritan doctrines, and had ended byout-Puritaning the Puritans. This was principally apparent in anintolerance of compromise which led him to remarkable extremes. Herefused to conform to the use of the common prayer, and so cut himselfoff from all chance of preferment; he renounced a property of somethousands of pounds rather than take the oath required by law; and atlast was forced to flee the country, reaching Massachusetts in 1631. He was, of course, soon at war with the constituted authorities overquestions of doctrine, and at last it was decided to get rid of him bysending him back to England. He was at Salem at the time, and hearingthat a warrant had been despatched from Boston for him, he promptly tookto the woods, and, making his way with a few followers to NarragansettBay, broke ground for a settlement which he named Providence. It was thebeginning of the first state in the world which took no cognizancewhatever of religious belief, so long as it did not interfere with civilpeace. He was soon joined by more adherents, and a few years later, heobtained from the king a charter for the colony of Rhode Island. Almost from the moment of his landing in America, Williams hadinterested himself greatly in the welfare of the Indians. The principalcause of his expulsion from Massachusetts was his contention that theland belonged to the Indians and not to the King of England, whotherefore had no right to give it away, so that the colony's charter wasinvalid. His town of Providence was built on land which the Indians hadgiven him, and he soon acquired considerable influence among them. Helearned to speak their language with great facility, translated theBible into their tongue, and on more than one occasion saved New Englandfrom the horrors of an Indian war. But, despite his lofty character, itis impossible at this day, to regard Williams with any degree ofsympathy or liking, or to think of him except as a trouble-maker overtrifles. Intolerance, happily, is fading from the world, and with itthat useless scrupulosity of behavior, which accomplishes no good, butwhose principal result is to make uncomfortable all who come in contactwith it. * * * * * Meanwhile, just to the south of Rhode Island, a prosperous littlesettlement had been established, which was soon to grow into the mostcommercially important on the continent. We have seen how Henry Hudson, in 1609, in a vessel chartered by the Dutch West India Company, enteredthe Hudson river and explored it for some hundred and fifty miles. TheDutch claimed the region as the result of that voyage, and during thenext few years, Dutch traders visited it regularly and did a livelybusiness in furs; but no attempt was made at colonization until 1624, although small trading-posts had existed at various points along theriver for ten years previously. All of this country was included in the patent granted the VirginiaCompany, and it was for the mouth of the Hudson that the Pilgrims hadsailed in the Mayflower. The charge has since been made that theircaptain had been bribed by the thrifty Dutch to land them somewhereelse, and at any cost, to keep them away from the neighborhood of theDutch trading-posts. From whatever cause, this was certainly done, andmany years were to elapse before there came another English invasion. In 1626, Peter Minuit, director for the Dutch West India Company, purchased Manhattan Island from the Indians, giving for it trinkets andmerchandise to the value of $24, and founding New Amsterdam as thecentral trading depot. From the first, the settlement was a cosmopolitanone, just as it is to-day, and in 1643, it was said that eighteenlanguages were spoken there. The most notable figure in this prosperous and growing colony was thatof Peter Stuyvesant, an altogether picturesque and gallant personality. Born in Holland in 1602, he had entered the army at an early age, and, as governor of Curaçao, lost a leg in battle. In 1646, he was appointeddirector-general of New Netherlands, and reached New Amsterdam in thespring of the following year. So much powder was burned in firingsalutes to welcome him that there was scarcely any left. His speech ofgreeting was brief and to the point. "I shall govern you, " he said, "as a father his children, for theadvantage of the chartered West India Company, and these burghers, andthis land. " And he proceeded to do it, having in mind the old adage that to sparethe rod is to spoil the child. There was never any doubt in Stuyvesant'smind that the first business of a ruler is to rule, and populargovernment seemed to him the merest idiocy. "A valiant, weather-beaten, mettlesome, obstinate, leathern-sided, lion-hearted, generous-spiritedold governor"--the adjectives describe him well; a sufficiently imposingfigure, with his slashed hose and velvet jacket and tall cane andsilver-banded wooden leg, he ruled the colony for twenty years with arod of iron, fortifying it, enlarging it, settling its boundaries, keeping the Indians over-awed, the veriest dictator this continent eversaw, until, one August day in 1664, an English fleet sailed up the bayand summoned the city to surrender. Stuyvesant set his men to work repairing the fortifications, and was forholding out, but the town was really defenseless against the frigates, which had only to sail up the river and bombard it from either side; hispeople were disaffected and to some extent not sorry to be deliveredfrom his rule; the terms offered by the English were favorable, andthough Stuyvesant swore he never would surrender, a white flag wasfinally run up over the ramparts of Fort Amsterdam. The city was at oncerenamed New York, in honor of the Duke of York, to whom it had beengranted; and the hard-headed old governor spent the remaining years ofhis life very comfortably on his great farm, the Bouwerie, just outsidethe city limits. This conquest, bloodless and easy as it was, was fraught with momentousconsequences. It brought New England into closer relations with Marylandand Virginia by creating a link between them, binding them together; itgave England command of the spot designed by nature to be the commercialand military centre of the Atlantic sea-board, and confirmed apossession of it that was never thereafter seriously disturbed, untilthe colonies themselves disputed it. Had New Amsterdam remained Dutch, dividing, as it did, New England from the South, there would never havebeen any question of revolution or independence. The flash of thatlittle white flag on that September day, decided the fate of thecontinent. * * * * * The Duke of York, being of a generous disposition and having many claimsupon him, used a portion of the great territory granted him in Americato reward his friends, and thereby laid the foundation for another greatcommonwealth with a unique history. New Jersey was given jointly to SirGeorge Carteret and Lord Berkeley, and in 1673, Lord Berkeley sold hisshare, illy-defined as the "southwestern part, " to a Quaker named EdwardByllinge. Byllinge soon became insolvent, and his property was takenover by William Penn and two others, as trustees, and the seeds sown forone of the most interesting experiments in history. There are few figures on the page of history more admirable, self-poised, and clear-sighted than this quiet man. He was born inLondon in 1644, the son of a distinguished father, and apparentlydestined for the usual career at the court of England. But while atOxford, young Penn astonished everybody and scandalized his relatives byjoining the Society of Friends, or Quakers, founded by George Fox only ashort time before. His family at once removed him from Oxford and senthim to Paris, in the hope that amid the gayeties of the French capitalhe would forget his Quaker notions, but he was far from doing so. Hereturned home after a time, and his father threatened to shut him up inthe Tower of London, but he retorted that for him the Tower was theworst argument in the world. We get some amusing glimpses of thecontention in his household. "You may 'thee' and 'thou' other folk as much as you like, " his angryfather told him, "but don't you dare to 'thee' and 'thou' the King, orthe Duke of York, or me. " The Quakers insisted upon the use of "thee" and "thou, " alleging thatthe use of the plural "you" was not only absurd, but a form of flattery, and this manner of address has been persisted in by them to this day. Penn, of course, continued to use them, much to his father'sindignation, and even went so far as to wear his hat in the king'spresence, an act of audacity which only amused that merry monarch. Thestory goes that the king, seeing young Penn covered, removed his ownhat, remarking jestingly, "Wherever I am, it is customary for only oneto be covered"; a neat reproof, as well as a lesson in manners whichwould have made any other young man's ears tingle, but Penn calmlyenough replied, "Keep thy hat on, Friend Charles. " After his father's death, in 1670, Penn found himself heir to a greatestate, and began to devote himself entirely to the defense andexplanation of Quakerism. Again and again, he was thrown into prison andkept there for months on end, but gradually he began to win for theFriends a certain degree of respect and consideration, perhaps as muchbecause of his high social station, gallant bearing and magneticpersonality, as because of any of his arguments. In 1677, he made a sortof missionary tour of Europe, returning to England to set activelyafloat the project for Quaker colonization in America which he had longbeen turning over in his mind. Three years, however, passed before he could secure from the Duke ofYork a release of all his powers of sovereignty over West Jersey, butthis was finally accomplished, and soon afterwards he secured from thecrown a charter for a great strip of country in that region. Penn namedthis region "Sylvania, " or "Woodland, " but when the King came to approvethe charter, he wrote the name "Penn" before "Sylvania, " and when Pennprotested, assured him laughingly that the name was given the countrynot in his honor but in that of his father, and so it stood. Penn had been allowed a free hand in shaping the policy of his colony, and forthwith proclaimed such a government as existed nowhere else onearth. Absolute freedom of conscience was guaranteed to everyone; it wasdeclared that governments exist for the sake of the governed, that toreform a criminal is more important than to punish him, that the deathpenalty should be inflicted only for murder or high treason, and thatevery man had a right to vote and to hold office. All of which are suchmatters of course to-day that we can scarcely realize how revolutionarythey were two centuries ago. To all who should come to his colony, Penn offered land at the rate offorty shillings for a hundred acres, and the experiment, denounced atfirst as visionary and certain of failure, was so successful that withina year, more than three thousand persons had sailed to settle along theDelaware. In the summer of 1682, Penn himself sailed for the New World, and late in the following autumn, at a spot just above the junction ofthe Schuylkill and Delaware, laid out a city as square and level as achecker-board, and named it Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love. Before taking possession of the land, he concluded a treaty with theDelaware Indians, to whom it belonged, "the only treaty, " as Voltairesays, "between savages and Christians that was never sworn to and neverbroken. " Penn's stately and distinguished bearing, his affability andkindness of heart, made a deep impression upon the Indians; they alwaysremembered him with trust and affection; and seventy years elapsedbefore Pennsylvania tasted the horrors of Indian warfare. The growth of the new city was phenomenal. Settlers came so fast thatcabins could not be built for them, and many of them lived for a time incaves along the river. The remainder of Penn's life was spent for themost part in England, where his interests demanded his presence, but hebuilt a handsome residence in the city which he had founded and livedthere at intervals until his death. No consideration, however brief, of his life and work can be completewithout some reference to the remarkable effect the establishment of hiscolony had on emigration to America. Pennsylvania gave a refuge and hometo the most intelligent and progressive peoples of Europe, chafing underthe religious restrictions which, at home, they could not escape. TheMennonites, the Dunkers, and the Palatines were among these, but by farthe most important were the so-called Scotch-Irish--Scotchmen who, acentury before, had been sent to Ireland by the English government, inthe hope of establishing there a Protestant population which would, intime, come to outnumber and control the native Irish. The Scotch werePresbyterians, of course, and finding the Irish environment distasteful, began, about 1720, to come to America in such numbers that, fifty yearslater, they formed a sixth part of our entire population. Nearly all ofthem settled in Western Pennsylvania, from which a steady stream flowedever southward and westward, furnishing the hardy pioneers of Kentuckyand Tennessee, and forming the main strength of American democracy. Weshall see, in the chapters which follow, how many of the men eminent inthe country's history, traced their descent from this stock. * * * * * One more interesting experiment in colonization, conceived and carriedout by a man of unusual personality, remains to be recorded. JamesOglethorpe, born in 1689, for forty years led the usual life of thewealthy English gentleman--first the army, then a period of quietcountry life, and finally parliament. There, however, he took a placeapart, almost at once, by his interest in prison reform. The conditionof the English prisons of the day was indescribably foul and loathsome, and as horror after horror was unearthed by his investigations, a greatproject began to take shape in his mind. This was nothing less than thefounding in America of a colony where prisoners for debt should beencouraged to settle, and where they should be given means to make a newstart in life. For in those days, a man who could not pay his debts wascast into prison and kept there, frequently in the greatest misery, asthough that helped matters any. In 1732, Oglethorpe succeeded in securing a charter for such a colony, which he named Georgia, in honor of the King. Trustees were appointed, the support of influential men secured, and on November 16, 1732, thefirst shipload of emigrants left England. Oglethorpe himself accompaniedthem. He had undertaken to establish the colony on the condition that hereceive no recompense, and was authorized to act as colonial governor. Charleston, South Carolina, was reached about the middle of January, and, after some exploration, Oglethorpe selected as the site of thefirst settlement a bluff on the rich delta lands of the Savannah. Thither the emigrants proceeded, and at once began to build the town, which was named Savannah after the river flowing at its feet. Oglethorpehimself was indefatigable. He concluded a treaty with the Indians, provided for the defense of the colony against the Spaniards, who heldFlorida, and, most important of all, welcomed a colony of Jews, who hadcome from London at their own expense, and who soon became as valuableas any of Savannah's citizens. Probably never before in history had aChristian community welcomed a party of this unfortunate race, which hadbeen despised and persecuted from one end of Europe to the other, whichcould call no country home, nor invoke the protection of any government. A year later, another strange band of pilgrims was welcomed--Protestantsdriven out of the Tyrolese valleys of Austria. A ship had been sent forthem, and Oglethorpe gave them permission to select a home in any partof the province, and sent his carpenters to assist them in buildingtheir houses. Georgia owes much of her greatness to these sturdy people, whose love of independence was to find another vent in the Revolution. As soon as these new arrivals were comfortably settled and provided for, Oglethorpe proceeded to London, where he secured the passage of lawsprohibiting slavery and the importation of liquor into the colony, andnot until his connection with it ended were slaves brought in. When hereturned to Georgia, it was with two vessels, and over three hundredcolonists--Scotchmen, Salzburgers and Moravians, the sturdiest people ofthe Old World. Oglethorpe welcomed them all, and it was this mixture ofraces which served to give Georgia her curious cosmopolitan population. Another important arrival was Charles Wesley, who came out as amissionary, and who acted for a time as the Governor's secretary. He wassucceeded by the famous George Whitfield, who labored there until hisdeath in 1770. Oglethorpe's public career ended in 1754, when, having returned toEngland, he failed of election to parliament. His remaining years werespent in retirement. That he was an extraordinary man cannot begainsaid, and the plan, so far in advance of his age, which he conceivedand carried through to success, forms one of the most interestingexperiments in colonization ever attempted anywhere. * * * * * This, then, is the story in briefest outline of the men who discoveredAmerica and who fought for a foothold on her borders. Most of them, itwill be noted, undertook the struggle not for commercial ends nor fromthe love of adventure, but in order to establish for themselves a homewhere they would be free in matters of the spirit. The traces of thatpurpose may be found on almost every page of American history and domuch to render it the inspiring thing it is. We shall see how many ofthe great men who loom large in these pages traced their descent fromthose hardy pioneers for whom no sacrifice seemed too great provided itsecured for them "Freedom to worship God. " SUMMARY COLUMBUS, CHRISTOPHER. Born at Genoa, Italy, probably in 1446; removedto Portugal about 1473; laid plan to reach the Indies before John II. Of Portugal, 1484; appeared at court of Ferdinand and Isabella, 1485;Spanish monarchs agreed to his demands, April 17, 1492; sailed fromPalos, August 3, 1492; discovered West Indies, October 12, 1492;returned to Palos, March 15, 1493; embarked on second voyage with 17vessels and 1, 500 men, September 25, 1493; discovered Dominica, PortoRico, Jamaica, and returned to Spain, March, 1496; started on thirdvoyage, May 30, 1498; discovered Trinidad and the mouth of the Orinoco;recalled to Santo Domingo by disorders and finally arrested and sentback to Spain in chains, October, 1500; released and started on fourthvoyage in March, 1502; discovered Honduras, but was wrecked on Jamaica, and reached Spain again after terrible sufferings, November 7, 1504;passed his remaining days in poverty and died at Valladolid, May 20, 1506. CABOT, JOHN. Born at Genoa, date unknown; became citizen of Venice, 1476; removed to Bristol, England, and in 1495 secured from Henry VII. Apatent for the discovery, at his own expense, of unknown lands in theeastern, western, or northern seas; sailed from Bristol, May, 1497;discovered coast of Newfoundland and returned to England in August, 1497; date of death unknown. CABOT, SEBASTIAN. Son of John Cabot, born probably at Venice, 1477;accompanied his father's expedition, 1497; commanded an Englishexpedition in search of a northwest passage, 1517; removed to Spain andmade grand pilot of Castile, 1518; sailed in command of a Spanishexpedition, April 3, 1526; skirted coast of South America, discoveredthe Uruguay and Parana, and reached Spain again in 1530; returned toEngland, 1546; died at London, 1557. VESPUCCI, AMERIGO. Born at Florence, Italy, March 9, 1451; removed toSpain, 1495; claimed to have accompanied four expeditions as astronomerin 1497, 1499, 1501 and 1503, during which some explorations were madeof the coasts of both North and South America; died at Seville, February22, 1512. PONCE DE LEON, JUAN. Born in Aragon about 1460; accompanied the secondvoyage of Columbus, 1493; conquered Porto Rico and appointed governor, 1510; heard story from Indians of an island to the north named Bimini, on which was a fountain giving eternal youth to all who drank of itswaters, and sailed in search of it, March, 1513; discovered the mainlandand landed on April 8, Pascua Florida, or Easter Sunday, takingpossession of the country for the King of Spain and calling it Florida, in honor of the day; returned to Porto Rico, September, 1513; sailedwith a large number of colonists to settle Florida, March, 1521;attacked by Indians and forced to retreat, he himself being wounded byan Indian arrow and dying from the effects of the wound a short timelater. MAGALHÃES, FERNÃO DE; generally known as Ferdinand Magellan. Born inPortugal about 1480; sailed from Spain to find a western passage to theMoluccas, September 20, 1519; reached the Brazilian coast, explored Riode la Plata, wintered on Patagonian coast, passed through Strait ofMagellan and reached the Pacific, November 28, 1520; crossed the Pacificand discovered the Philippines, March 16, 1521; killed in a fight withthe natives, April 27, 1521. DRAKE, SIR FRANCIS. Born in Devonshire, England, about 1540; fitted outa freebooting expedition and attacked the Spanish settlements in theWest Indies, 1572, capturing Porto Bello, Cartagena, and other towns andtaking an immense treasure; sailed again from England, December, 1577, circumnavigating the globe and reaching home again September, 1580, where he was met by Queen Elizabeth and knighted on his ship; ravagedthe West Indies and Spanish Main, 1585, and the coast of Spain, 1587;commanded a division of the fleet defeating the Spanish Armada, July, 1588; died off Porto Bello, 1596. SOTO, HERNANDO DE. Born in Spain, 1500; took prominent part in conquestof Peru, 1532-1536; appointed governor of Porto Rico and Florida, 1537;landed at Tampa Bay, May 25, 1539; discovered the Mississippi, May, 1541; died of malarial fever and buried in the Mississippi, June, 1542. CORONADO, FRANCISCO VASQUEZ DE. Born at Salamanca about 1500; reachedMexico in 1539, and in 1540, headed an expedition in search of Cibolaand the Seven Cities supposed to have been founded seven centuriesbefore by some Spanish bishops fleeing from the Moors; penetrated towhat is now New Mexico and perhaps to Kansas, reaching Mexico again withonly a remnant of his force; date of death unknown. CARTIER, JACQUES. Born at St. Malo, France, December 31, 1494; madethree voyages to Canada, 1534-1542; exploring the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and sailing up the St. Lawrence as far as Montreal; died after 1552. HUDSON, HENRY. Date and place of birth unknown; sailed in service ofDutch East India Company to find a northwest passage, March 25, 1609;sighted Nova Scotia and explored coast as far south as Chesapeake Bay;explored Hudson river, September, 1609; sailed again to find a northwestpassage, 1610; entered Hudson Bay and Hudson Strait, where he wintered;set adrift in open boat, with eight companions, by mutinous crew, June23, 1611; never seen again. SMITH, CAPTAIN JOHN. Born in Lincolnshire, England, in January, 1579;served in Netherlands and against Turks, sailed for Virginia withChristopher Newport, December 19, 1606; chosen president of colony, September 10, 1608; returned to London in autumn of 1609; explored NewEngland coast, 1614; created admiral of New England, 1617; spentremainder of life in vain endeavor to secure financial support for acolony in New England; died at London, June 21, 1632. CHAMPLAIN, SAMUEL DE. Born at Brouage, France, 1567; explored Canada andNew England, 1603-1607; founded Quebec, 1608; discovered Lake Champlain, 1609; died at Quebec, December 25, 1635. NICOLET, JEAN. Place and date of both birth and death unknown. LA SALLE, ROBERT CAVALIER, SIEUR DE. Born at Rouen, November 22, 1643;came to Canada, 1666; set out on tour of western exploration, discovering Ohio river, 1669; descended the Mississippi to its mouth, 1681; led a band of colonists from France, 1685; missed mouth of river, and murdered by his own men while seeking it, March 20, 1687. JOLIET, LOUIS. Born at Quebec, September 21, 1645; commissioned toexplore Mississippi river, by Frontenac, governor of New France, 1672;explored Fox, Wisconsin, Mississippi and Illinois rivers, 1673; diedMay, 1700. MARQUETTE, JACQUES. Born at Laon, France, 1637; accompanied Joliet in1673; died near Lake Michigan, May 18, 1675. BRADFORD, WILLIAM. Born at Austerfield, Yorkshire, England, 1590;governor of Plymouth colony, 1621-1657 (except in 1633-1634, 1636, 1638, 1644); died at Plymouth, Massachusetts, May 9, 1657. WILLIAMS, ROGER. Born in Wales about 1600; reached Massachusetts, 1631;pastor at Plymouth and Salem, 1631-1635; ordered to leave colony andfled from Salem, January, 1636; founded Providence, June, 1636; went toEngland and obtained charter for Rhode Island colony, 1644; president ofcolony until death, April, 1684. STUYVESANT, PETER. Born in Holland, 1602; served in West Indies, for atime governor of Curaçao, and returned to Holland in 1644; appointeddirector-general of New Netherlands, 1646; reached New Amsterdam, 1647;surrendered colony to the English, September, 1664; died at New York, August, 1682. PENN, WILLIAM. Born at London, October 14, 1644; became preacher ofFriends, 1668; part proprietor of West Jersey, 1675; received grant ofPennsylvania, 1681; founded Philadelphia, 1682; returned to England, 1684; deprived of government of colony on charge of treason, 1692, butrestored to it in 1694; visited Pennsylvania, 1699-1701; died atRuscombe, Berks, England, July 30, 1718. OGLETHORPE, JAMES EDWARD. Born at London, December 21, 1696; projectedcolony of Georgia for insolvent debtors and persecuted Protestants, andconducted expedition for its settlement, 1733; returned to England, 1743; died at Cranham Hall, Essex, England, 1785. * * * * * CHAPTER III WASHINGTON TO LINCOLN Near the left bank of the Potomac river, in the northwesternpart of Westmoreland county, Virginia, there stood, in the year 1732, alittle cabin, where lived a planter by the name of Augustine Washington. It was a lonely spot, for the nearest neighbor was miles away, but thelittle family, consisting of father, mother, and two boys, Lawrence andAugustine, were kept busy enough wresting a living from the soil. Here, on the twenty-second day of February, a third son was born, and in duetime christened George. Just a century had elapsed since John Smith had died in London, but inthat time the colony which he had founded and which had been more thanonce so near extinction, had grown to be the greatest in America. Half amillion people were settled along her bays and rivers, engaged, for themost part, in the culture of tobacco, for which the colony had long beenfamous and which was the basis of her wealth. Her boundaries were stillindefinite, for though, by, the king's charter, the colony was supposedto stretch clear across the continent to the Pacific, the country beyondthe Blue Ridge mountains was still a wilderness where the Indian and thewild beast held undisputed sway. Even in Virginia proper, there were fewtowns and no cities, Williamsburg, the capital, having less than twohundred houses; but each planter lived on his own estate, very muchafter the fashion of the feudal lords of the Middle Ages, generous, hospitable, and kind-hearted, fond of the creature-comforts, proud ofhis women and of his horses, and satisfied with himself. It was into this world that George Washington was born. While he wasstill a baby, his father moved to a place he purchased on the banks ofthe Rappahannock, opposite Fredericksburg, and here the boy's childhoodwas spent. His father died when he was only eleven years old, but hismother was a vigorous and capable woman, from whom her son inherited nota little of his sturdy character. He developed into a tall, strong, athletic youth, and many stories are told of his prowess. He could jumptwenty feet; on one occasion he threw a stone across the Rappahannock, and on another, standing beneath the famous Natural Bridge, threw astone against its great arch, two hundred feet above his head. He grewto be over six feet in height and finely proportioned--altogether ahandsome and capable fellow, who soon commanded respect. At that time, surveying was a very important occupation, since so muchof the colony remained to be laid out, and George began to study to be asurveyor, an occupation which appealed to him especially because it wasof the open air. He was soon to get a very important commission. When Augustine Washington died, he bequeathed to his elder son, Lawrence, an estate on the Potomac called Hunting Creek. Near by lay themagnificent estate of Belvoir, owned by the wealthy William Fairfax, andLawrence Washington had the good fortune to win the heart and hand ofFairfax's daughter. With the money his bride brought him, he was able tobuild for himself a very handsome dwelling on his estate, whose name hechanged to Mount Vernon, in honor of the English admiral with whom hehad seen some service. George, of course, was a frequent visitor atBelvoir, meeting other members of the Fairfax family, among them Thomas, sixth Lord Fairfax, who finally engaged him to survey a great estatewhich had been granted him by the king on the slope of the Blue Ridgemountains. George Washington was only sixteen years of age when he started out onthis errand into what was then the wilderness. It was a tremendous taskwhich he had undertaken, for the estate comprised nearly a fifth of thepresent state, but he did it so well that, on Lord Fairfax'srecommendation, he was at once appointed a public surveyor, and mayfairly be said to have commenced his public career. His brother soonafterwards secured for him the appointment as adjutant-general for thedistrict in which he lived, so that it became his duty to attend to theorganization and equipment of the district militia. This was thebeginning of his military service and of his study of militaryscience. He was at that time eighteen years of age. That was the end of his boyhood. You will notice that I have saidnothing about his being a marvel of goodness or of wisdom--nothing, forinstance, about a cherry tree. That fable, and a hundred others like it, were the invention of a man who wrote a life of Washington half acentury after his death, and who managed so to enwrap him withdisguises, that it is only recently we have been able to strip them allaway and see the man as he really was. Washington's boyhood was muchlike any other. He was a strong, vigorous, manly fellow; he got intoscrapes, just as any healthy boy does; he grew up straight and handsome, ready to play his part in the world, and he was called upon to play itmuch earlier than most boys are. We shall see what account he gave ofhimself. When George was twenty years old, his brother Lawrence died and made himhis executor. From that time forward, Mount Vernon was his home, and inthe end passed into his possession. But he was not long to enjoy thepleasant life there, for a year later, he was called upon to perform animportant and hazardous mission. We have seen how La Salle dreamed of a great French empire, stretchingfrom the Great Lakes to the mouth of the Mississippi. This was alreadybecoming a reality, for the governor of Canada had sent troops to occupythe Ohio valley, and to build such forts as might be needed to hold it. This was bringing the French altogether too close for comfort. As long as they were content to remain in the Illinois country, nothingmuch was thought of it, for that was far away; but here they were nowright at Virginia's back door, and there was no telling when they wouldtry to force it open and enter. So Governor Dinwiddie, of Virginia, determined to dispatch a commissioner to the officer-in-command of theFrench, to summon him to leave English territory. The commissioner wasalso to try to kill two birds with one stone and form an alliance withthe Indians, so that, if it came to fighting, the Indians would be withthe English. No more delicate and dangerous mission could well beconceived, and after careful consideration, the governor selected GeorgeWashington to undertake it. On October 30, 1753, Washington left Williamsburg, with a journey ofmore than a thousand miles before him. How that journey wasaccomplished, what perils he faced, what difficulties he overcame, how, on more than one occasion his life hung by a thread--all this he hastold, briefly and modestly, in the journal which he kept of theexpedition. Three months from the time he started, he was back again inWilliamsburg, having faced his first great responsibility, and done hiswork absolutely well. He had shown a cool courage that nothing couldshake, a fine patience, and a penetration and perception which nothingcould escape. He was the hero of the hour in the little Virginiacapital; the whole colony perceived that here was a man to be dependedupon. He had found the French very active along the Ohio, preparingto build forts and hold the country, and laughing at Dinwiddie's summonsto vacate it. This news caused Virginia to put a military force in thefield at once, and dispatch it to the west, with Washington in virtualcommand. It was hoped to build a strong fort at the junction of theAllegheny and Monongahela rivers, which would prevent the French gettingto the Ohio, since all travel in that wilderness must be by water. OnMay 28, 1754, while hastening forward to secure this position, Washington's little force encountered a party of French, and the firstshots were exchanged of the great contest which, twelve years later, wasto result in the expulsion of the French from the continent. It wasWashington who gave the word to fire, little foreseeing what history hewas making. "I heard the bullets whistle, " he wrote home to his mother, "and believeme, there is something charming in the sound"--a bit of bravado whichshows that Washington had not yet quite outgrown his boyhood. No doubtthe bullets sounded much less charmingly five weeks later when he andhis men, brought to bay in a rude fortification which he named FortNecessity, were surrounded by a superior force of French and Indians, and, after an all-day fight, compelled to surrender. It is worthremarking that this bitter defeat--the first reverse which Washingtonsuffered--occurred on the third day of July, 1754. Twenty-one years fromthat day, he was to draw his sword at the head of an American army. Washington made his way back to Virginia with the news of hisfailure. The French had occupied the vantage ground he was aiming at andat once proceeded to erect a fort there, which they named Duquesne. Aidwas asked from England to repel these invaders, and early in 1755, agreat force under Major-General Edward Braddock advanced against theenemy. Washington served as aide-de-camp to the general, whose ideas ofwarfare had been gained on the battlefields of Europe, and who could notunderstand that these ideas did not apply to warfare in a wilderness. Inconsequence, when only a few miles from the fort, he was attacked by aforce of French and Indians, his army all but annihilated and he himselfwounded so severely that he died a few days later. During that fiercebattle, Washington seemed to bear a charmed life. Four bullets torethrough his coat and two horses were shot under him, but he received nota scratch, and did effective work in rallying the Virginia militia tocover the retreat. Three years later, he had the satisfaction ofmarching into Fort Duquesne with an English force, which banished theFrench for all time from the valley of the Ohio. That victory ended the war for a time, and Washington returned toVirginia to marry a charming and wealthy widow, Mrs. Martha Custis, andto take the seat in the House of Burgesses to which he had just beenelected. He served there for fifteen years, living the life of thetypical Virginia planter on his estate of Mount Vernon, which had passedinto his possession through the death of his brother's onlychild. He had become one of the most important men of the colony, whoseopinion was respected and whose influence was very great. During all this period, the feeling against England was growing more andmore bitter. Let us be candid about it. The expulsion of the French fromthe continent had freed the colonies from the danger of Frenchaggression and from the feeling that they needed the aid of the mothercountry. That they should have been taxed to help defray the greatexpense of this war against the French seems reasonable enough, butthere happened to be in power in England, at the time, a few obstinateand bull-headed statesmen, serving under an obstinate and ignorant king, and they handled the question of taxation with so little tact anddelicacy that, among them, they managed to rouse the anger of thecolonies to the boiling point. For the colonists, let us remember, were of the same obstinate andbull-headed stock, and it was soon evident that the only way to settlethe difference was to fight it out. But the impartial historian mustwrite it down that the colonies had much more to thank England for thanto complain about, and that at first, the idea of a war for independencewas not a popular one. As it went on, and the Tories were run out of thecountry or won over, as battle and bloodshed aroused men's passions, then it gradually gained ground; but throughout, the members of theContinental Congress, led by John and Samuel Adams, were aheadof public opinion. As we have said, it soon became apparent that there was going to be afight, and independent companies were formed all over Virginia, andstarted industriously to drilling. Washington, by this time the mostconspicuous man in the colony, was chosen commander-in-chief; and when, at the gathering of the second Continental Congress at Philadelphia, came news of the fight at Lexington and Concord, the army before Bostonwas formally adopted by the Congress as an American army, and Washingtonwas unanimously chosen to command it. I wonder if any one foresaw thatday, even in the dimmest fashion, what immortality of fame was to cometo that tall, quiet, dignified man? That was on the 15th day of June, 1775, and Washington left immediatelyfor Boston to take command of the American forces. All along the route, the people turned out to welcome him and bid him Godspeed. Delegationsescorted him from one town to the next, and at last, on the afternoon ofJuly 2d, he rode into Cambridge, where, the next day, in the shadow of agreat elm on Cambridge Common, he took command of his army, and beganthe six years' struggle which resulted in the establishment of theindependence of the United States of America. His first task was to drive the British from Boston, and he hadaccomplished it by the following March. Then came a long period ofreverses and disappointments, during which his little army, outnumbered, but not outgeneraled, was driven from LongIsland, from New York, and finally across New Jersey, taking refuge onthe south bank of the Delaware. There he gathered it together, and onChristmas night, 1776, while the enemy were feasting and celebrating intheir quarters at Trenton, he ferried his army back across theice-blocked river, fell upon the British, administered a stingingdefeat, and never paused until he had driven them from New Jersey. Thatbrilliant campaign effectually stifled the opposition which he had hadto fight in the Congress, and resulted in his being given full powerover the army, and over all parts of the country which the armyoccupied. One more terrible ordeal awaited him--the winter of 1777-1778 spent atValley Forge, where the army, without the merest necessities of life, melted away from desertion and disease, until, at one time, it consistedof less than two thousand effective men. The next spring saw theturning-point, for France allied herself with the United States; theBritish were forced to evacuate Philadelphia and were driven back acrossNew Jersey to New York; and, finally, by one of the most brilliantmarches in history, Washington transferred his whole army from theHudson to the Potomac, and trapped Cornwallis and his army of seventhousand men at Yorktown. Cornwallis tried desperately to free himself, but to no avail, and on October 19, 1781, he surrendered his entireforce. There is a pretty legend that, as Cornwallis delivered up his sword, acheer started through the American lines, but that Washingtonstilled it on the instant, remarking, "Let posterity cheer for us. "Whether the legend be true or not, posterity _has_ cheered, for thatbrilliant victory really ended the war, although two years passed beforepeace was declared and the independence of the United Statesacknowledged by the King of England. Long before this, everybody knew what the end would be, and there wasmuch discussion as to how the new country should be governed. A greatmany people were dissatisfied with the Congress, and it was suggested toWashington that there would be a more stable government if he wouldconsent himself to be King or Dictator, or whatever title he might wish, and that the army, which had won the independence of the country, wouldsupport him. Washington's response was prompt and decisive. "Let me conjure you, " he wrote, "if you have any regard for yourcountry, concern for yourself, or respect for me, to banish thesethoughts from your mind, and never communicate, as from yourself or anyone else, a sentiment of like nature. " It was perhaps the first time in the history of the world that men hadwitnessed the like. Soon afterwards, the army was disbanded, andWashington, proceeding to Annapolis, where the Congress was in session, resigned his commission as commander-in-chief. There are some whoconsider that the greatest scene in history--the hero sheathing hissword "after a life of spotless honor, a purity unreproached, a courageindomitable, and a consummate victory. " A private citizen again, Washington returned quietly to hisestate at Mount Vernon. But he could not remain there--the countryneeded him too badly, and his great work was yet to do. For let usremember that his great work was not the leading of the American army tovictory, not the securing of independence, but the establishment of thisRepublic. More than of any other man was this the work of Washington. Hesaw the feeble Confederation breaking to pieces, now that the stress ofdanger was removed; he beheld the warring interests and petty jealousiesof statesmen who yet remained colonial; but he was determined that outof these thirteen jarring colonies should come a nation; and when theconvention to form a constitution met at Philadelphia, he presided overit, and it was his commanding will which brought a constitution out of aturmoil of selfish interests, through difficulties and past obstacleswhich would have discouraged any other man. And, the Constitution once adopted, all men turned to Washington tostart the new Nation on her great voyage. Remember, there was nogovernment, only some written pages saying that a government was to be;it was Washington who converted that idea into a reality, who broughtthat government into existence. It was a venture new to history; aRepublic founded upon principles which, however admirable in theabstract, had been declared impossible to embody in the life of anation. And yet, eight years later, when Washington retired from thepresidency, he left behind him an effective government, with anestablished revenue, a high credit, a strong judiciary, a vigorousforeign policy, and an army which had repressed insurrections, and whichalready showed the beginnings of a truly national spirit. At the end of his second term as President, the country demanded that heaccept a third; the country, without Washington at the head of it, seemed to many people like a ship on a dangerous sea without a pilot. But he had guided her past the greatest dangers, and he refused a thirdterm, setting a precedent which no man in the country's history has beenstrong enough to disregard. In March, 1797, he was back again at MountVernon, a private citizen. He looked forward to and hoped for long years of quiet, but it was notto be. On December 12, 1799, he was caught by a rain and sleet storm, while riding over his farm, and returned to the house chilled through. An illness followed, which developed into pneumonia, and three dayslater he was dead. He was buried at Mount Vernon, which has become one of the great shrinesof America, and rightly so. For no man, at once so august and solovable, has graced American history. Indeed, he stands among thegreatest men of all history. There are few men with such a record ofachievement, and fewer still who, at the end of a life so crowded andcast in such troubled places, can show a fame so free from spot, acharacter so unselfish and so pure. We know Washington to-day as well as it is possible to know any man. Weknow him far better than the people of his own household knewhim. Behind the silent and reserved man, of courteous and seriousmanner, which his world knew, we perceive the great nature, the warmheart and the mighty will. We have his letters, his journals, hisaccount-books, and there remains no corner of his life hidden from us. There is none that needs to be. Think what that means--not a singlecorner of his life that needs to be shadowed or passed over in silence!And the more we study it, the more we are impressed by it, and thegreater grows our love and veneration for the man of whom were utteredthe immortal words, "First in war, first in peace, and first in thehearts of his countrymen"--words whose truth grows more apparent withevery passing year. * * * * * It is one of the maxims of history that great events produce great men, and the struggle for independence abundantly proved this. Never again inthe country's history did it possess such a group of statesmen as duringits first years, the only other period at all comparable with it beingthat which culminated in the Civil War. It was inevitable that these menshould assume the guidance of the newly-launched ship of state, andWashington had, in every way possible, availed himself of theirassistance. Alexander Hamilton had been his secretary of the treasury, Thomas Jefferson his secretary of state, and James Monroe his ministerto France. The first man to succeed him in the presidency, however, wasnone of these, but John Adams of Massachusetts. His electionwas not uncontested, as Washington's had been; in fact, he was electedby a majority of only three, Jefferson receiving 68 electoral votes tohis 71. Let us pause for a moment to see how this contest originated, for it wasthe beginning of the party government which has endured to the presentday, and which is considered by many people to be essential to theadministration of the Republic. When Washington was elected there were, strictly speaking, no parties; but there was a body of men who hadfavored the adoption of the Constitution, and another, scarcely lessinfluential, who had opposed it. The former were called Federals, asfavoring a federation of the several states, and the latter were calledAnti-Federals, as opposing it. One point of difference always leads to others, wider and wider apart, as the rain-drop, shattered on the summit of the Great Divide, flows onehalf to the Atlantic the other half to the Pacific. So, after theadoption of the Constitution, there was never any serious question ofabrogating it, but two views arose as to its interpretation. TheFederals, in their endeavor to strengthen the national government, favored the liberal view, which was that anything the Constitution didnot expressly forbid was permitted; while the Anti-Federals, anxious topreserve all the power possible to the several states, favored thestrict view, which was that unless the Constitution expressly permitteda thing, it could not be done. As there were many, many points uponwhich the Constitution was silent--its framers being mere human beingsand not all-wise intelligences--it will be seen that theseinterpretations were as different as black and white. It was thisdivergence, combined with another as to whether, in joining the Union, the several states had surrendered their sovereignty, which haspersisted as the fundamental difference between the Republican andDemocratic parties to the present day. Adams was a Federalist, and his choice as the candidate of that partywas due to the fact that Hamilton, its leader, was too unpopular withthe people at large to stand any chance of election, more especiallyagainst such a man as Jefferson, who would be his opponent. WithHamilton out of the way, the place plainly belonged to Adams by right ofsuccession, and he was nominated. He was aided by the fact that he hadserved as Vice-President during both of Washington's administrations, and it was felt that he would be much more likely to carry out thepolicies of his distinguished predecessor than Jefferson, who had beenopposed to Washington on many public questions. Even at that, as hasbeen said, he won by a majority of only three votes. In a general way Adams did continue Washington's policies, evenretaining his cabinet. But, while his attitude on national questionswas, in the main, a wise one, he was so unwise and undignified in minorthings, so consumed by petty jealousies, envies and contentions, that hemade enemies instead of friends, and when, four years later, he wasagain the Federal candidate, he was easily beaten by Jefferson, andretired from the White House a soured and disappointed man, fleeing from the capital by night in order that he might not have towitness the inauguration of his successor. To such depths had he beenbrought by colossal egotism. In his earlier years, he had donedistinguished service as a member of the Continental Congress, but hisprestige never recovered from the effect of his conduct during his termas President, and his last years were passed in retirement. By asingular coincidence, he and Jefferson died upon the same day, July 4, 1826. Thomas Jefferson, whose influence is perhaps more generally acknowledgedin the life of the Republic of to-day than that of any other man of histime, and whose name, Washington's apart, is oftenest on men's lips, wasborn in Virginia in 1743, graduated from William and Mary College, studied law, and took a prominent part in the agitation preceding theRevolution. Early in his life, owing to various influences, he beganforming those ideas of simplicity and equality which had such aninfluence over his later life, and over the great party of which he wasthe founder. His temperament was what we call "artistic"; that is, heloved books and music and architecture, and the things which make forwhat we call culture. And yet, with all that, he soon grew wise andskillful in the world's affairs, possessing an industry and insightwhich assured his speedy success as a lawyer, despite an impediment ofspeech which prevented him from being an effective orator. He had the good fortune to marry happily, finding a comrade andhelpmate, as well as a wife, in beautiful Martha Skelton, withwhom he rode away to his estate at Monticello when he was twenty-seven. She saw him write the Declaration of Independence, saw him war-governorof Virginia, and second only to Washington in the respect and affectionof the people of that great commonwealth; and then she died. The shockof her death left Jefferson a stricken man; he secluded himself from thepublic, and declared that his life was at an end. Washington, however, eight years later, persuaded him to accept a placein his cabinet as secretary of state. Within a year he had definitelytaken his place as the head of the Anti-Federalist, or Republican party, and laid the foundations of what afterwards became known as theDemocratic party. His trust in the people had grown and deepened, hisheart had grown more tender with the coming of affliction, and it washis theory that in a democracy, the people should control public policyby imposing their wishes upon their rulers, who were answerable tothem--a theory which is now accepted, in appearance, at least, by allpolitical parties, but which the Federalist leaders of that timethoroughly detested. Jefferson seems to have felt, too, that thetendency of those early years was too greatly toward an aristocracy, which the landed gentry of Virginia were only too willing to provide, and when, at last, he was chosen for the presidency, he set the countrysuch an example of simplicity and moderation that there was never againany chance of its running into that danger. Everyone has read the story of how, on the day of hisinauguration, he rode on horseback to the capitol, clad in studiouslyplain clothes and without attendants, tied his horse to the fence, andwalked unannounced into the Senate chamber. This careful avoidance ofdisplay marked his whole official career, running sometimes, indeed, into an ostentation of simplicity whose good taste might be questioned. But of Jefferson's entire sincerity there can be no doubt. Inconsistentas he sometimes was--as every man is--his purposes and policies alltended steadily toward the betterment of humanity; and the great mass ofthe people who to this day revere his memory, "pay a just debt ofgratitude to a friend who not only served them, as many have done, butwho honored and respected them, as very few have done. " Perhaps the greatest single act of his administration was the purchasefrom France of the vast territory known as Louisiana, which included thestate now bearing that name, and the wide, untrodden, wilderness west ofthe Mississippi, paying for it the sum of fifteen million dollars--arate of a fraction of a cent an acre. The purchase aroused the bitterestopposition, but Jefferson seems to have had a clearer vision than mostmen of what the future of America was to be. He served for two terms, refusing a third nomination which he was besought to accept, andretiring to private life on March 4, 1809, after a nearly continuouspublic service of forty-four years. The remainder of his life was spentquietly at his home at Monticello, where men flocked for aguidance which never failed them. The cause to which his last years weredevoted was characteristic of the man--the establishment of a commonschool system in Virginia, and the founding of the University ofVirginia, which still bears the imprint of his mind. [Illustration: JEFFERSON] Jefferson is one of the few men whose portrait, as preserved for us, shows us the man as we imagine him to be. No one can look at that loftyand noble countenance, with its calm and wide-set eyes, its firm yettender mouth, its expression of complete serenity, without realizingthat here was a man placed above the weakness and pettiness and meannessof the world, on a pinnacle of his own, strong in spirit, wise injudgment, and almost prophetic in vision. The presidency descended, by an overwhelming majority, to one ofJefferson's stanch friends and supporters, for whom he had paved theway--James Madison, also a Virginian, who had been his secretary ofstate for eight years, and who was himself to serve two terms, duringwhich the influence of the "Sage of Monticello" was paramount. The greatcrisis which Madison had to face was the second war with England, a warbrought on by British aggression on the high seas, and bitterly opposed, especially in New England. The war, characterized by blunders on landand brilliant successes on the ocean, really resulted without victory toeither side, and, indeed, was very nearly a defeat for America; but inthe end, it enabled us to regain possession of the posts whichEngland had persisted in occupying along the western boundary, andbanished forever any fear that she might, at any time in the future, attempt to reassert her sovereignty over the United States. Madison was also fortunate in his wife, the beautiful and brilliantDolly Payne Todd, who played so prominent a part in the social life ofthe time, and who, when the British were marching into Washington tosack that city, managed to save some of the treasures of the White Housefrom the invaders. It is difficult for us to realize, at this distantday, that our beautiful capital was once in the enemy's hands, givenover to the flames; that was one of the great disgraces of the War of1812; for the only force which rallied to the defense of the city was afew regiments of untrained militia, which could not stand for a minutebefore the British regulars, but ran away at the first fire. Madison and his wife, however, soon came back to the White House fromwhich they had been driven, and remained there four years longer, untilthe close of his second term, in 1817. For nearly a score of yearsthereafter, they lived a happy and tranquil life on their estate, Montpelier. It is somewhat difficult to estimate Madison. He stood on a sort ofmiddle ground between Jefferson and Hamilton. Earlier in his career, Hamilton influenced him deeply in regard to the adoption of theConstitution, of which he has been called the father. But, at a laterdate, Jefferson's influence became uppermost, and Madisonswung over to the extreme of the state rights view, and drew theresolutions of the Virginia legislature declaring the Alien and Seditionlaws "utterly null and void and of no effect, " so that he has also beencalled the "Father of Nullification. " However unstable his opinions mayhave been, there is no questioning his patriotism or the purity of hismotives. Again the presidential tradition was to remain unbroken, for Madison'ssuccessor was James Monroe, his secretary of state, a Virginian and aDemocrat. The preponderance of the Democratic party was never more inevidence, for while he received 183 electoral votes, Rufus King, theFederalist candidate, received only 34. This, however, was as nothing tothe great personal triumph he achieved four years later, when, as acandidate for re-election, only one vote was cast against him, and thatby a man who voted as he did because he did not wish to see a secondPresident chosen with the unanimity which had honored Washington. Monroe is principally remembered to-day from a "doctrine" enunciated byhim and known by his name, which remains a vital portion of Americanpolicy. It was in 1823 that he declared that the United States wouldconsider any attempt of a European power to establish itself in thishemisphere as dangerous to her peace and safety, and as themanifestation of an unfriendly disposition. The language is cautious anddiplomatic, but what it means in plain English is that the United Stateswill resist by force any attempt of a European power toconquer and colonize any portion of the three Americas--in other words, that this country will safeguard the independence of all her neighbors. This principle has come to be regarded as a basic one in the foreignrelations of the United States, and while no European power has formallyacknowledged it, more than one have had to bow before it. It isinteresting to know that the enunciation of such a "doctrine" wasrecommended by Thomas Jefferson, and that Jefferson was Monroe'sconstant adviser throughout his career. Monroe retired from the presidency in 1825, and the seven remainingyears of his life were passed principally on his estate in Virginia. Jefferson said of him, "He is a man whose soul might be turned wrongside outwards, without discovering a blemish to the world, "--an estimatewhich was, of course, colored by a warm personal friendship, but whichwas echoed by many others of his contemporaries. Certain it is that fewmen have ever so won the affection and esteem of the nation, and hisadministration was known as the "era of good feeling. " He is scarcelyappreciated to-day at his true worth, principally because he does notmeasure up in genius to the great men who preceded him. At striking variance with the practical unanimity of Monroe's electionwas that of John Quincy Adams, his successor. Over a quarter of acentury had elapsed since a northern man had been chosen to thepresidency. That man, strangely enough, was the father of thepresent candidate, but had retired from office after one acrimoniousterm, discredited and disappointed. Since then, the government of thecountry had been in the hands of Virginians. Now came John Quincy Adams, calling himself a Democrat, but really inheriting the principles of hisfather, and the contest which ensued for the presidency wasunprecedented in the history of the country. Adams's principal opponent was Andrew Jackson, a mighty man of whom weshall soon have occasion to speak, and so close was the contest that theelectoral college was not able to make a choice. So, as provided by theConstitution, it was carried to the House of Representatives, and there, through the influence of Henry Clay, who was unfriendly to Jackson, Adams was chosen by a small majority. An administration which began inbitterness, continued bitter and turbulent. Men's passions were aroused, and four years later Adams repeated the fate of his father, in beingoverwhelmingly defeated. But the most remarkable portion of his story is yet to come. Before thattime, it had been the custom, as we have seen, for the ex-President tospend the remaining years of his life in dignified retirement; but theyear after Adams left the White House, he was elected to the House ofRepresentatives, and was returned regularly every two years until hisdeath, which occurred upon its floor. He did much excellent work there, and was conspicuous in more than one memorable scene, but he is chieflyremembered for his battle for the right of petition. No morepersistent fight was ever made by a man in a parliamentary body and somereference must be made to it here. Soon after he took his seat in Congress, the movement against slaverywas begun, and one fruit of it was the appearance of petitions for theabolition of slavery in the House of Representatives. A few werepresented by Mr. Adams, and then more and more, as they were sent in tohim, and finally the southern representatives became so aroused, thatthey succeeded in passing what was known as the "gag rule, " whichprevented the reception of these petitions by the House. Adams protestedagainst this rule as an invasion of his constitutional rights, and fromthat time forward, amid the bitterest opposition, addressed his wholeforce toward the vindication of the right of petition. On every petitionday, he would offer, in constantly increasing numbers, petitions whichcame to him from all parts of the country for the abolition of slavery. The southern representatives were driven almost to madness, but Adamskept doggedly on his way, and every year renewed his motion to strikeout the gag rule. As constant dripping will wear away a stone, so hispersistence wore away opposition, or, rather, the sentiment of thecountry was gradually changing, and at last, on December 3, 1844, hismotion prevailed, and the great battle which he had fought practicallyalone was won. Four years later he fell, stricken with paralysis, at hisplace in the House. It is worth pausing to remark that, of the six men who, up tothis time, had held the presidency, four were from Virginia and two fromMassachusetts; that, in every instance, the Virginians had beenre-elected and had administered the affairs of the country to thesatisfaction of the people, while both the Massachusetts men had beenretired from office at the end of a single term, and after turbulent andviolent administrations. All of them were what may fairly be calledpatricians, men of birth and breeding; they were the possessors of acertain culture and refinement, were descended from well-known families, and there seemed every reason to believe that the administration of thecountry would be continued in the hands of such men. For what otherclass of men was fitted to direct it? Then, suddenly, the people spoke, and selected for their ruler a man from among themselves, a man whosecollege was the backwoods, whose opinions were prejudices rather thanconvictions, and yet who was, withal, perhaps the greatest popular idolthis country will ever see; whose very blunders endeared him to thepeople, because they knew his heart was right. * * * * * On the fifteenth day of March, 1767, in a little log cabin on the upperCatawba river, almost on the border-line between North and SouthCarolina--so near it, in fact, that no one knows certainly in whichstate it stood--a boy was born and christened Andrew Jackson. His fatherhad died a few days before--one of those sturdy Scotch-Irish whom wehave seen emigrating to America in such numbers in search ofa land of freedom. The boy grew up in the rude backwoods settlement, rough, boisterous, unlettered; at the age of fourteen, riding withSumter in the guerrilla warfare waged throughout the state against theBritish, and then, captured and wounded on head and hand by asabre-stroke whose mark he bore till his dying day, a prisoner in thefilthy Camden prison-pen, sick of the small-pox, and coming out of it, at last, more dead than alive. His mother nursed him back to life, and then started for Charleston tosee what could be done for the prisoners rotting in the Britishprison-ships in the harbor, only herself to catch the prison-fever, andto be buried in a grave which her son was never able to discover. Young Jackson, sobered by this and other experiences, applied himselfwith some diligence to his books, taught school for a time, studied law, and at the age of twenty was admitted to the bar, for which the standardwas by no means high. To the west, the new state of Tennessee was inprocess of organization--an unpeopled wilderness for the most part--andearly in the year 1788, Jackson secured the appointment as publicprosecutor in the new state. It is not probable he had much competition, for the position was one calling for desperate courage, as well as forendurance to withstand the privations of back-woods life, and thepecuniary reward was small. In the fall of 1788, he proceeded toNashville with a wagon train which came within an ace of beingannihilated by Indians before it reached its destination. Jackson found his new position exactly suited to his peculiar genius. His personal recklessness made him the terror of criminals; he possessedthe precise qualifications for success before backwoods juries and forpersonal popularity among the rough people who were his clients, withwhom usually might was right. At the end of three or four years, hepractically monopolized the law business of the district; and he soonbecame by far the most popular man in it, despite a hot-headeddisposition which made him many enemies, which involved him innumberless quarrels, and which resulted in his fighting at least oneduel, in which he killed his opponent and was himself dangerouslywounded. It was inevitable, of course, that he should enter politics, and equallyinevitable that he should be successful there. Eight years after hisarrival from Carolina, at the age of twenty-nine, he was elected torepresent his state in Congress, and covered the eight hundred miles toPhiladelphia on horseback. From the House, he was appointed to serve inthe Senate, resigned from it to accept an election as Judge of theSupreme Court of Tennessee, was chosen major-general of the Tennesseemilitia, and so began that military career which was to have aremarkable culmination. On the 25th of June, 1812, apprised of the outbreak of the second warwith England, Jackson offered to the President his own services andthose of the twenty-five hundred militia men of his district. The offer was at once accepted, and Jackson, getting his troopstogether, proceeded down the river to New Orleans. But jealousies atheadquarters intervened, he was informed that New Orleans was in nopresent danger, his force was disbanded and left to get back home asbest it could. Jackson, wild with rage, pledged his own resources tofurnish this transportation, but was afterwards reimbursed by thegovernment. It was while he was getting his men back home again that Jacksonreceived the nickname of "Old Hickory, " which clung to him all the restof his life, and which was really a good description of him. The storyalso illustrates how it was that his men came to idolize him, and why itwas that he appealed so strongly to the common people. Jackson had threegood horses, on that weary journey, but instead of riding one of themhimself, he loaned all three to sick men who were unable to walk, andhimself trudged along at the head of his men. "The general is tough, isn't he?" one of them remarked, glancing at thetall, sturdy figure. "Tough!" echoed another. "I should say he is--as tough as hickory!" Jackson was lying in bed with a bullet in his shoulder, which he hadreceived in an affray with Jesse Benton, and also, no doubt, nursing hischagrin over his treatment by the War Department, when news came of agreat Indian uprising in Alabama. The Creeks had gone on the warpath andhad opened proceedings by capturing Fort Mims, at the junction of theAlabama and Tombigbee rivers, on August 30, 1813, and massacring overfive hundred people who had taken refuge there. Alabama was almostabandoned by the whites, and Georgia and Tennessee at once rushed to herrelief by voting men and money to put down the Indians. Jackson forgot wound and chagrin and took the field as soon as he wasable to stir. He at once quarrelled with the other officers; but his menbelieved in him, though lack of food and the expiring of the short termof enlistment created so much insubordination that, on one occasion, hehad to use half his army to prevent the other half from marching home. His energy was remarkable; he pushed forward into the Creek country, cutthe Indians to pieces at Horseshoe Bend, and drove the survivors intoFlorida. At the end of seven months, the war was over, and the Creekshad been so punished that there was never any further need to fear them. The campaign had another result--it established Jackson's reputation asa fighter, and soon afterwards he was appointed a major-general in thearmy of the United States, and was given command of the Department ofthe South. The pendulum had swung the other way, with a vengeance! ButJackson rose magnificently to this increased responsibility. Hediscovered that the English were in force at Pensacola, which was inFlorida and therefore on Spanish territory; but he did not hesitate. Hemarched against the place with an army of three thousand, stormed thetown, captured it, blew up the forts, which the Spaniards hastilysurrendered, and so made it untenable as an English base. Perhaps noother exploit of his career was so audacious, or so well carried out. Pensacola subdued, he hastened to New Orleans, which was in the gravestdanger. The overthrow of Napoleon and his banishment to Elba had given England abreathing-space, and the veteran troops which had been with Wellingtonin Spain were left free for use against the Americans. A greatexpedition was at once organized to attack and capture New Orleans, andat its head was placed General Pakenham, the brilliant commander of thecolumn which had delivered the fatal blow at Salamanca. A fleet of fiftyvessels, manned by the best sailors of England, was got ready, tenthousand men put aboard, and in December, a week after Jackson's arrivalat New Orleans, this great fleet anchored off the broad lagoons of theMississippi delta. Seventeen thousand men, in all, counting the sailors, who could, of course, be employed in land operations; and a mightyequipment of artillery, for which the guns of the fleet could also beused. The few American gunboats were overpowered, and Pakenham proceededleisurely to land his force for the advance against the city, which itseemed that nothing could save. On December 23d, his advance-guard oftwo thousand men was but ten miles below New Orleans. On the afternoon of that very day, the vanguard of Jackson'sTennesseans marched into New Orleans, clad in hunting-shirts ofbuckskin or homespun, wearing coonskin caps, and carrying on theirshoulders the long rifles they knew how to use so well. They had madeone of the most remarkable marches in history, in their eagerness tomeet the enemy, and Jackson at once hurried them forward for a nightattack. It was delivered with the greatest fury, and the British were soroughly handled that they were forced to halt until the main body of thearmy came up. When they did advance, they found that Jackson had made good use of thedelay. With the first light of the dawn which followed the battle, hehad commenced throwing up a rude breastwork, one end resting on theriver, the other on a swamp, and by nightfall, it was nearly done. Mudand logs had been used, and bales of cotton, until it formed a fairlystrong position. The British were hurrying forward reinforcements, andlittle did either side suspect that on that very day, at Ghent, thousands of miles away, a treaty of peace had been signed between theUnited States and England, and that the blood they were about to spillwould be spilled uselessly. In a day or two, the British had got up their artillery, and tried tobatter down the breastworks, but without success; then, Pakenham, forgetting Bunker Hill, determined to try a frontal assault. He had nodoubt of victory, for he had three times as many men as Jackson; troops, too, seasoned by victories won over the most renowned marshals ofNapoleon. At Toulouse they had driven Marshal Soult from a positioninfinitely stronger than this rude breastworks; time after timethey had charged and carried fortifications, manned by the bestsoldiers in Europe. What chance, then, had this little force ofbackwoodsmen, commanded by an ignorant and untrained general? SoPakenham ordered that the assault should take place on the morning ofJanuary 8th. From the bustle and stir in the British camp, the Americans knew thatsomething unusual was afoot, and long before dawn, the riflemen wereawake, had their breakfast, and then took their places behind the mudwalls, their rifles ready. At last the sun rose, the fog lifted, anddisclosed the splendid and gleaming lines of the British infantry, readyfor the advance. As soon as the air was clear, Pakenham gave the word, and the columns moved steadily forward. From the American breastworksnot a rifle cracked. Half the distance was covered, three-fourths; andthen, as one man, those sturdy riflemen rose and fired, line upon line. Under that terrible fire, the British column broke and paused, thensurged forward again, almost to the foot of the breastworks. But not aman lived to mount them. No column could stand under such a fire, andthe British broke and ran. Mad with rage, Pakenham rallied his men and placed himself at theirhead. Again came the word to charge, and again that gleaming columnrushed forward, only to be again met by that deadly hail of lead. Pakenham, mortally wounded, reeled and fell from his saddle, officerafter officer was picked off by those unequalled marksmen, the field wascovered with dead and dying. Even the British saw, at last, the folly ofthe movement, and retired sullenly to their lines. For a week they laythere; then, abandoning their heavy artillery, they marched back totheir ships and sailed for England. The men who had conquered theconquerors of Europe had themselves met defeat. The battle had lasted less than half an hour, but the British leftbehind them no less than twenty-six hundred men--seven hundred killed, fourteen hundred wounded, five hundred prisoners. The American loss waseight killed and thirteen wounded. News of this brilliant victory brought sudden joy to a depressed people, for elsewhere on land the war had been waged disgracefully enough, andJackson's name was on everyone's lips. His journey to Washington was akind of triumphal march, and his popularity grew by leaps and bounds. People journeyed scores of miles to see him, for there was a strangefascination about the rugged old fighter which few could resist, andalready his friends were urging him as a candidate for the presidency. There could be no doubt that he was the people's choice, and at last, inthe campaign of 1823, he was formally placed in nomination, his chiefopponent being John Quincy Adams, of Massachusetts. The result of thatcontest has already been told. Jackson received more electoral votesthan any other candidate, but not enough to elect, and the contest wasdecided by the House of Representatives. On that occasion, Henry Claycame nearer committing political suicide than ever again in his life, for he threw his influence against Jackson, and lost a portion ofhis popularity which he never recovered. Jackson bided his time, and spent the four years following in carefulpreparation for the next contest. So well did he build his fences that, when the electoral vote was cast, he received the overwhelming majorityof 178 votes to 83 for Adams. Never before had the city of Washington seen such an inauguration astook place on the fourth of March following. It seemed as though thewhole population of the country had assembled there to see the oldfighter take the oath of office. Daniel Webster wrote of it, "I neversaw such a crowd here before. Persons came five hundred miles to seeGeneral Jackson and really seem to think that our country is rescuedfrom some dreadful danger. " As, perhaps, it was. Jackson began his administration with characteristic vigor. It was hewho first put into practice the principle, "To the victors belong thespoils. " There was about him no academic courtesy, and he proceeded atonce to displace many Federal officeholders and to replace them with hisown adherents. The Senate tried for a time to stem the tide, but wasforced to give it up. There was no withstanding that fierce and dominantpersonality. Jackson was more nearly a dictator than any President hadever been before him, or than any will ever be again. His greatpopularity seemed rather to increase than to diminish, and in 1832, hereceived no less than 219 electoral votes. [Illustration: JACKSON] Let us do him justice. Prejudiced and ignorant andwrong-headed as he was, he was a pure patriot, laboring for hiscountry's good. Nothing proves this more strongly than his attitude onthe nullification question, in other words, the right of a state torefuse to obey a law of the United States, and to withdraw from theUnion, should it so desire. This is not the place to go into theconstitutional argument on this question. It is, of course, all butcertain that the original thirteen states had no idea, when theyratified the Constitution, that they were entering an alliance fromwhich they would forever be powerless to withdraw; and the right ofwithdrawal had been asserted in New England more than once. SouthCarolina was the hot-bed of nullification sentiment, arising partly fromthe growing anti-slavery feeling at the North, and partly because of theenactment of a tariff law which was felt to be unjust, and on October25, 1832, the South Carolina legislature passed an ordinance assertingthat, since the state had entered the Union of its free will, it couldwithdraw from it at any time and resume the sovereign and independentposition which it had held at the close of the Revolution, and that itwould do so should there be any attempt to enforce the tariff lawswithin the state. Jackson's attitude on this question was already well known. At a banquetcelebrating Jefferson's birthday, two years before, at which Calhoun andothers had given toasts and made addresses in favor of nullification, Jackson had startled his audience by rising, glass in hand, and giving the toast, "Our Federal Union--it must be preserved!" Thattoast had fallen like a bombshell among the ranks of the nullifiers, andhad electrified the whole Nation. Since then, he had become a strongernationalist than ever; besides, he was always ready for a fight, andwhenever he saw a head had the true Irishman's impulse to hit it. So heresponded to the South Carolina nullification ordinance by sending twomen-of-war to Charleston harbor and collecting a force of United Statestroops along the Carolina border. "I consider the power to annul a lawof the United States, assumed by one state, incompatible with theexistence of the Union, " he wrote; and when a South Carolinacongressman, about to go home, asked the President if he had anycommands for his friends in that state, Jackson retorted: "Yes, I have; please give my compliments to my friends in your state, and say to them that if a single drop of blood shall be shed there inopposition to the laws of the United States, I will hang the first man Ican lay my hands on, engaged in such treasonable conduct, upon the firsttree I can reach. " Whether or not this message was delivered history does not say, but thewhole Nation arose in wrath behind its President, state after statedenounced nullification and disunion, and the South Carolina ordinancewas finally repealed. So the storm passed for the moment. It leftJackson more of a popular hero than ever; it was as though he had wonanother battle of New Orleans. One cannot but wonder what would havehappened had he been acting as President, instead of Buchanan, in thosetrying years after 1856. He retired from the presidency broken in health and fortune, for howeverwell he took care of the interests of his friends, he was alwayscareless about his own. The last eight years of his life were spent athis Tennessee estate, The Hermitage. The end came in 1845, but his namehas remained as a kind of watchword among the common people--a synonymfor rugged honesty, and bluff sincerity. His career is, all in all, byfar the most remarkable of any man who ever held the high office ofPresident--with one possible exception, that of Abraham Lincoln. * * * * * Jackson was one of the most perfect political manipulators andmachine-builders this country ever saw, and he had so perfected hismachine at the close of his second term that he was able to name as hissuccessor and the heir of his policies, Martin Van Buren, of New York, aman who had been one of Jackson's most valued lieutenants from thefirst, an astute politician, but not remarkable in any way, nor able toimpress himself upon the country. He announced at his inauguration thatit was his intention, to tread in the footsteps of his "illustriouspredecessor, " but none for a moment imagined that he was big enough tofill Jackson's shoes. Indeed, Jackson, was by far the most importantfigure at the inauguration. Van Buren's term as President witnessed nothing moremomentous than the great panic of 1837, which he faced with a calmnessand clear-sightedness surprising even to his friends, but whichnevertheless assisted a collection of malcontents, under the leadershipof Henry Clay, calling themselves National Republicans or Whigs, todefeat him for re-election. There was really no valid reason why heshould have been re-elected; he had little claim, upon the country, butwas for the most part, merely a clever politician, the first to attainthe presidency. His life had been marked by an orderly advance fromlocal to state, and then to national offices--an advance obtained notbecause he stood for any great principle, but because he knew how tomake friends and build his political fences. His nomination and election to the presidency was in no sense anaccident, as was Taylor's, Pierce's, Hayes's and Garfield's, but wascarefully prearranged and thoroughly understood. Yet let us do him thejustice to add that his public services were, in some respects, of ahigh order, and that he was not wholly unworthy of the last great honorpaid him. He was a candidate for the nomination in 1844, but wasdefeated by James K. Polk; and four years later, secured the nomination, but was defeated at the polls by Zachary Taylor. That ended hispolitical career. In the campaign against him of 1840, the Whigs were fortunate in havingfor their candidate William Henry Harrison, a man of immense personalpopularity, resembling Jackson in that his reputation had been made asan Indian fighter in the West, where he had defeated Tecumseh at thebattle of Tippecanoe, and by a successful campaign in the war of 1812. Since then, he had been living quietly on his farm in Ohio, with noexpectation of anything but passing his remaining years in quiet, for hewas nearly seventy years of age. But Clay, with a sort of propheticinsight, picked him out as the Whig leader, and "Tippecanoe and TylerToo" became the rallying cry of a remarkable campaign, which swept thecountry from end to end and effectually swamped Van Buren. It was toostrenuous for a man as old as Harrison, and he died at the White Housewithin a month of taking the oath of office. The "Tyler Too" was John Tyler, who had been elected Vice-President, andwho assumed the office of President upon Harrison's death. His accessionwas little less than a bomb-shell to the party which had nominated himand secured his election. For he was a Virginian, a follower of Calhounand an ardent pro-slavery man, while the Whigs were first, last and allthe time anti-slavery. He had been placed on the ticket with Harrison, who was strongly anti-slavery, in the hope of securing the votes of somedisaffected Democrats, but to see him President was the last thing theWhigs desired. The result was that he soon became involved in a bitterquarrel with Clay and the other leaders of the party, which effectually;killed any chance of renomination he may have had. He became the markfor perhaps the most unrestrained abuse ever aimed at aholder of the presidency. It was largely unmerited, for Tyler was a capable man, had seen servicein Congress and as governor of his state; but he was dry anduninspiring, and not big enough for the presidency, into which he couldnever have come except by accident. His administration was marked by fewimportant events except the annexation of Texas, which will be dealtwith more particularly when we come to consider the lives of Sam Houstonand the other men who brought the annexation about. He retired toprivate life at the close of his term, appearing briefly twenty yearslater as a member of a "congress" which endeavored to prevent the warbetween the states, and afterwards as a member of the ConfederateCongress, in which he served until his death. Clay secured the Whig nomination for himself, in the campaign of 1844, and his opponent on the Democratic ticket was James Knox Polk, a nativeof North Carolina, but afterwards removing to Tennessee. He had been amember of Congress for fourteen years, and governor of Tennessee forthree, and was a consistent exponent of Democratic principles. Two greatquestions were before the country: the annexation of Texas and the rightto Oregon. Polk was for the immediate annexation of Texas and for theacquisition of Oregon up to 54° 40" north latitude, regardless of GreatBritain's claims, and "Fifty-four forty or fight!" became one of thebattle-cries of the campaign. Clay, inveterate trimmer andcompromiser that he was, professed to be for the annexation of Texas, provided it could be accomplished without war with Mexico, which wasarrant nonsense, since Mexico had given notice that she would considerannexation an act of war. The result of Clay's attitude, and of awidespread distrust of his policies, was that Polk was elected by alarge majority. His administration was destined to be a brilliant one, for Texas was atonce annexed, and the brief war with Mexico which followed, one of themost successful ever waged by any country, carried the southwesternboundary of the United States to the Rio Grande, and added New Mexicoand California to the national domain, while a treaty with Englandsecured for the country the present great state of Oregon, although herePolk receded from his position and accepted a compromise which confinedOregon below the forty-ninth parallel. But even this was something of atriumph. With that triumph, the name of Marcus Whitman is most closelyassociated, through a brilliant but rather useless feat of his, of whichwe shall speak later on. Polk seems to have been an able andconscientious man, without any pretensions to genius--just a good, average man, like any one of ten thousand other Americans. He refused arenomination because of ill-health, and died soon after retiring fromoffice. The Democratic party had by this time become hopelessly disrupted overthe slavery question, which had become more and more acute. The greatstrength of the state rights party had always been in theSouth, and southern statesmen had always opposed any aggression on thepart of the national government. The North, on the other hand, hadalways leaned more or less toward a strong centralization of power. Soit followed that while the Democratic party was paramount in the South, its opponents, by whatever name known, found their main strength in theNorth. Yet, even in the North, there was a strong Democratic element, and, butfor the intrusion of the slavery question, the party would havecontrolled the government for many years to come. But the North wasgradually coming to feel that the slavery question was more importantthan the more abstract one of national aggression; the more so since, byinsisting upon the enforcement of such measures as the Fugitive SlaveLaw, the South was, as it were, keeping open and bleeding a wound whichmight to some extent have healed. In 1848 the split came, and theDemocratic party put two candidates in the field, Lewis Cass for theSouth, and Martin Van Buren for the North. The Whig Party, taking advantage of the knowledge gained in previouscampaigns, looked around for a famous general, and managed to agree uponZachary Taylor, who had made an exceedingly brilliant record in the warwith Mexico. He was sixty-five years old at the time, a sturdy giant ofa man, reared on the frontier, hardened by years of Indian warfare, whose nickname of "Old Rough and Ready" was not a bad description. Hecaught the popular fancy, for he possessed those qualitieswhich appeal to the plain people, and this, assisted by the division inthe ranks of his opponents, won him a majority of the electoral votes. He took the oath of office on March 4, 1849, but, after sixteen monthsof troubled administration, died suddenly on July 9, 1850. Millard Fillmore, who had been elected Vice-President, at once took theoath of office as chief executive. He was a New York man, a lawyer, hadbeen a member of Congress, and, as Vice-President, had presided over thebitter slavery debates in the Senate. His sympathies were supposed to beanti-slavery, yet he signed the Fugitive Slave Law, when it was placedbefore him, much to the chagrin of many people who had voted for him. Hesigned his own political death-warrant at the same time, for, at theWhig National Convention in 1852, he was defeated for the nomination forPresident, after a long struggle, by General Winfield Scott, anotherveteran of the Mexican war. Four years later, Fillmore, having managedto regain, the confidence of his party, secured the Whig nominationunanimously, but was defeated at the polls, and spent the remainingyears of his life quietly at his home in Buffalo. Against General Scott, the Democrats nominated Franklin Scott Pierce, the nomination being in the nature of an accident, though Pierce was inevery way a worthy candidate. His family record begins with his father, Benjamin Pierce, who, as a lad of seventeen, stirred by the tidings ofthe fight at Lexington, left his home in Chelmsford, musketon shoulder, to join the patriot army before Boston. He settled in NewHampshire after the Revolution, and his son Franklin was born there in1804. He followed the usual course of lawyer, congressman and senator, and served throughout the war with Mexico, rising to the rank ofbrigadier-general, and securing a reputation second only to that ofScott and Taylor. At the Democratic convention of 1852, Pierce was not a candidate for thenomination, and did not know that any one intended to mention his name, or even thought of him in that connection. But the convention was unableto agree on a candidate, and on the fourth day and thirty-third ballot, some delegate cast his vote for General Franklin Pierce, of NewHampshire. The name attracted attention, Pierce's career had beendistinguished and above reproach, other delegates voted for him, until, on the forty-ninth ballot, he was declared the unanimous choice of theconvention. His election was overwhelming, as he carried twenty-sevenstates out of thirty-one. Once in the presidential chair, however, this popularity graduallyslipped away from him. He found himself in an impossible position, between two fires, for the slavery question was dividing the countrymore and more and there seemed no possible way to reconcile the warringsections. Pierce, perhaps, made the mistake of trying to placate both, instead of taking his stand firmly with one or the other; and theconsequence was that at the convention of 1856, he received a few votesfrom courtesy, but was never seriously in the running, which resulted inthe nomination of James Buchanan. Pierce returned to his home in NewHampshire, to find his friends and neighbors estranged from him by hissupposed pro-slavery views, which had yet not been radical enough to winhim the friendship of the South; but time changed all that, and his lastyears were spent in honored and opulent retirement. James Buchanan was, like Andrew Jackson, of Scotch-Irish descent, butthere the resemblance between the two ended, for Buchanan had little ofJackson's tremendous positiveness and strength of character. Hisdisposition was always to compromise, while Jackson's was to fight. Nowcompromise is often a very admirable thing, but where it shows itself tobe impossible and leaves fighting the only resource, the wise man putsall thought of it behind him and prepares for battle. Which is preciselywhat Buchanan did not do. He had been a lawyer and congressman, ministerto Russia, senator, secretary of state and minister to England, and sohad the widest possible political acquaintanceship; he was a man ofsomewhat unusual culture; but, alas! he found that something more thanculture was needed to guide him in the troublous times amid which hefell. I have often thought that Buchanan's greatest handicap was hiswide friendship, which often made it almost impossible to say no, however much he may have wished to do so. An unknown backwoodsman, likeAndrew Jackson, with no favors to return and no friendships to beremembered, could have acted far more effectively. Buchanan's opponent for the presidency was John C. Frémont, and therewas a great stir and bustle among the people who were supposed tosupport him, but Buchanan won easily, and at once found himself in themidst of the most perplexing difficulties. Kansas was in a state ofcivil war; two days after his inauguration the Supreme Court handed downthe famous Dred Scott decision, declaring the right of any slave-holderto take his slaves as property into any territory; while the youngRepublican party was siding openly with the abolitionists, and, a veryfirebrand in a powder-house, in 1859, John Brown seized Harper's Ferry, Virginia, and attempted to start a slave insurrection. Now a slaveinsurrection was the one thing which the South feared more than anyother--it was the terror which was ever present. And so John Brown's madattempt excited a degree of hysteria almost unbelievable. Small wonder that Buchanan was soon at his wits' ends. His sympathieswere with the slave-holders; he doubted his right to coerce a secedingstate; his friendships were largely with southern statesmen--and yet, tohis credit be it stated, on January 8, 1860, after secession had becomea thing assured, he seems suddenly to have seen his duty clearly, and ina special message, declared his intention to collect the revenues andprotect public property in all the states, and to use forceif necessary. Taken all in all, his attitude in those trying days was acreditable one--as creditable as could be expected from any average man. What the time needed was a genius, and fortunately one rose to theoccasion. Buchanan, harried and despondent, must have breathed a deepsigh of relief when he surrendered the helm to the man who had beenchosen to succeed him--the man, by some extraordinary chance, in all theland best fitted to steer the ship of state to safety--the man who wasto be the dominant figure of the century in American history. SUMMARY WASHINGTON, GEORGE. Born in Westmoreland County, Virginia, February 22(old style, February 11), 1732; sent on a mission to the French beyondthe Alleghenies, 1753-54; appointed lieutenant-colonel, 1754; defeatedby the French at Fort Necessity, July 3, 1754; aide-de-camp to Braddock, 1755; commanded on the frontier, 1755-57; led the advance-guard for thereduction of Fort Duquesne, 1758; married Martha Custis, January 9, 1759; delegate to Continental Congress, 1774-75; appointedcommander-in-chief of the continental forces, June 15, 1775; assumedcommand of the army, July 3, 1775; compelled evacuation of Boston, March17, 1776; defeated at battle of Long Island, August 27, 1776; defeatedat White Plains, October 28, 1776; surprised the British at Trenton, December 26, 1776; won the battle of Princeton, January, 1777; defeatedat Brandywine and Germantown in 1777; at Valley Forge, during the winterof 1777-78; won the battle of Monmouth, June 28, 1778; capturedYorktown and the army of Cornwallis, October 19, 1781; resigned hiscommission as commander-in-chief, December 23, 1783; president of theConstitutional Convention, 1787; unanimously elected President of theUnited States, January, 1789; inaugurated at New York, April 30, 1789;unanimously re-elected, 1793; issued farewell address to the people, September, 1796; retired to Mount Vernon, March, 1797; died there, December 14, 1799. ADAMS, JOHN. Born at Braintree, now Quincy, Massachusetts, October 30, 1735; graduated at Harvard, 1755; studied law, took a leading part inopposing Stamp Act, was counsel for the British soldiers charged withmurder in connection with the "Boston massacre" in 1770, and became aleader of the patriot party; member of Revolutionary Congress ofMassachusetts, 1774; delegate to first and second Continental Congress, 1774-75; commissioner to France, 1777; negotiated treaties with theNetherlands, Great Britain and Prussia, 1782-83; minister to London, 1785-88; Federal Vice-President, 1789-97; President, 1797-1801; defeatedfor re-election and retired to Quincy, 1801; died there, July 4, 1886. JEFFERSON, THOMAS. Born at Shadwell, Albemarle County, Virginia, April2, 1743; member of the Virginia House of Burgesses, 1769-75, and1776-78, and of the Continental Congress, 1775-76; drafted Declarationof Independence, 1776; governor of Virginia, 1779-81; member ofCongress, 1783-84; minister to France, 1784-89; secretary of state, 1789-93; Vice-President, 1797-1801; President, 1801-09; died atMonticello, Albemarle County, Virginia, July 4, 1826. MADISON, JAMES. Born at Port Conway, Virginia, March 16, 1751;graduated at Princeton, 1771; delegate to Congress, 1780-83, and to theConstitutional Convention, 1787; member of Congress, 1789-97; secretaryof state, 1801-09; President, 1809-1817; died at Montpelier, OrangeCounty, Virginia, June 28, 1836. MONROE, JAMES. Born in Westmoreland County, Virginia, April 28, 1758;member of Virginia assembly, 1782; member of Congress, 1783-86; UnitedStates senator, 1790-94; minister to France, 1794-96; governor ofVirginia, 1799-1802; minister to Great Britain, 1803-07; secretary ofstate, 1811-17; President, 1817-25, an administration, known as "the eraof good feeling"; died at New York City, July 4, 1831. ADAMS, JOHN QUINCY. Born at Braintree, Massachusetts, July 11, 1767;graduated at Harvard, 1788; admitted to the bar, 1791; minister to theNetherlands, 1794-97; and to Prussia, 1797-1801; United States senator, 1803-08; minister to Russia, 1809-14; minister to England, 1815-17;secretary of state, 1817-25; President, 1825-29; member of Congress, 1831-48; died at Washington, February 23, 1848. JACKSON, ANDREW. Born at the Waxham settlement, North Carolina (?), March 15, 1767; member of Congress, 1796-97; United States senator, 1797-98; justice of the Supreme Court of Tennessee, 1798-1804; defeatedthe Creeks at Talladega, 1813, and at Horseshoe Bend, 1814; capturedPensacola from the English, 1814; won the battle of New Orleans, January8, 1815; commanded against the Seminoles, 1817-18; governor of Florida, 1821; United States senator, 1823-25; defeated for President by J. Q. Adams, 1824; President, 1829-37; died at the Hermitage, nearNashville, Tennessee, June 8, 1845. VAN BUREN, MARTIN. Born at Kinderhook, New York, December 5, 1782;admitted to the bar, 1803; entered New York State Senate, 1812; UnitedStates senator, 1821-28; governor of New York, 1828-29; secretary ofstate, 1829-31; Vice-President, 1833-37; President, 1837-41; defeatedfor President, 1840, 1844, 1848; died at Kinderhook, July 24, 1862. HARRISON, WILLIAM HENRY. Born at Berkeley, Charles City County, Virginia, February 9, 1773; governor of Indiana Territory, 1801-13; wonvictory of Tippecanoe, 1811, and of the Thames, 1813; member ofCongress, 1816-19; United States senator, 1825-28; minister to Colombia, 1828-29; defeated for Presidency, 1836; elected President in the"log-cabin and hard-cider" campaign, 1840; inaugurated, March 4, 1841;died at Washington, April 4, 1841. TYLER, JOHN. Born at Greenway, Charles City County, Virginia, March 29, 1790; admitted to the bar, 1809; member of Virginia legislature, 1811-16; member of Congress, 1816-21; governor of Virginia, 1825-27;United States senator, 1827-36; elected Vice-President, 1840, andsucceeded to Presidency on the death of General Harrison, April 4, 1841;president of the peace convention of 1861, favored secession and servedas member of the Confederate provisional Congress; died at Richmond, Virginia, January 18, 1862. POLK, JAMES KNOX. Born in Mecklenburg County, North Carolina, November2, 1795; admitted to the bar, 1820; member of Congress, 1825-39; speaker of the House of Representatives, 1835-39; governor ofTennessee, 1839-41; President, 1845-49; died at Nashville, Tennessee, June 15, 1849. TAYLOR, ZACHARY. Born in Orange County, Virginia, September 24, 1784;entered the army as first lieutenant, 1808; served in War of 1812, attaining rank of major; served in Black Hawk's war, 1832, with rank ofcolonel; defeated Seminole Indians, 1837; commander-in-chief of Florida, 1838; took command of the army in Texas, 1845; won battle of Palo Alto, May 8, 1846, and that of Reseca de la Palma, May 9, 1846; capturedMatamoras, May 18, and Monterey, September 24, 1846; defeated Santa Annaat Buena Vista, February 22-23, 1847; appointed major-general, June 29, 1846; elected President, 1848; inaugurated, March 4, 1849; died atWashington, July 9, 1850. FILLMORE, MILLARD. Born at Summer Hill, Cayuga County, New York, January7, 1800; admitted to the bar, 1823; member of New York Statelegislature, 1829-31; member of Congress, 1833-35, 1837-43; electedVice-President, 1848, and succeeded to presidency on the death ofTaylor, July 9, 1850; died at Buffalo, New York, March 8, 1874. PIERCE, FRANKLIN. Born at Hillsborough, New Hampshire, November 23, 1804; member of Congress, 1833-37; United States senator, 1837-42;served with distinction in Mexican war; President, 1853-57; died atConcord, New Hampshire, October 8, 1869. BUCHANAN, JAMES. Born at Stony Batter, Franklin County, Pennsylvania, April 22, 1791; member of Congress, 1821-31; minister toRussia, 1831-33; United States senator, 1833-45; secretary of state, 1845-49; minister to Great Britain, 1853-56; President, 1857-61; died atWheatland, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, June 1, 1868. * * * * * CHAPTER IV LINCOLN AND HIS SUCCESSORS And so we have come down through the years to Abraham Lincoln--thatpatient and gentle man whose memory ranks with Washington's as America'spriceless heritage. A blessing and an inspiration--a mystery, too; anenigma among men, lonely and impressive; not fully understood norunderstandable to the depths of that great heart of his; not fullyexplainable, for what strange power was it lifted that ignorant, ill-bred, uncouth, backwoods boy to a station among the stars? Seldom has any man who started so low mounted so high. Abraham Lincoln'searly life was of the most miserable description. His father, ThomasLincoln, was a worthless rover; his mother, Nancy Hanks, was of a "poorwhite" Virginia family with an unenviable record. His birthplace was asqualid log cabin in Washington County, Kentucky. His surroundings weresuch as are commonly encountered in a coarse, low, ignorant, poverty-stricken family. His father was at the very bottom of the socialscale, so ignorant he could scarcely write his name. His motherinherited the shiftlessness and carelessness which is part and parcel of"poor white. " These things are incontestable, they must be looked inthe face. And yet, in spite of them, in spite of such a handicap as fewother great men even approximated, Abraham Lincoln emerged to be theleader of a race. In 1816, Thomas Lincoln decided he would remove to Indiana. Abraham wasat that time seven years old, and for a year after the removal, thefamily lived in what was called a "half-faced camp, " fourteen feetsquare--that is to say, a covered shed of three sides, the fourth sidebeing open to the weather. Then the family achieved the luxury of acabin, but a cabin without floor or door or window. Amid thiswretchedness, Lincoln's mother died, and was laid away in a rough coffinof slabs at the edge of the little clearing. Three months later, apassing preacher read the funeral service above the grave. Thomas Lincoln soon married again and, strangely enough, made a wisechoice, for his new wife not only possessed furniture enough to fill afour-horse wagon, but, what was of more importance, was endowed with athrifty and industrious temperament. That she should have consented tomarry the ne'er-do-well is a mystery; perhaps he was not without hisredeeming virtues, after all. She made him put a floor and windows inhis cabin, and she was a better mother to his children than their realone had ever been. For the first time, young Abraham got some idea ofthe comforts and decencies of life, and, as his step-mother put it, "began to look a little human. " He was not an attractive object, even atbest, for he was lanky and clumsy, with great hands and feet, and askin prematurely wrinkled and shrivelled. By the time he was seventeen, he was six feet tall, and he soon added two more inches to his stature. Needless to say, his clothes never caught up with him, but were alwaystoo small. His schooling was of the most meagre description; in fact, in his wholelife, he went to school less than one year. Yet there soon awakenedwithin the boy a trace of unusual spirit. He actually liked to read. Hesaw few books, but such as he could lay his hands on, he read over andover. That one fact alone set him apart at once from the other boys ofhis class. To them reading was an irksome labor. All this reading had its effect. He acquired a vocabulary. That is tosay, instead of the few hundred words which were all the other boys knewby which to express their thoughts, he soon had twice as many; besidesthat, he soon got a reputation as a wit and story-teller, and hiscommand of words made him fond of speechmaking. He resembled most boysin liking to "show off. " He had learned, too, that there were comfortsin the world which he need never look for in his father's house, and so, as soon as he was of age, he left that unattractive dwelling-place andstruck out for himself, making a livelihood in various ways--bysplitting rails, running a river boat, managing a store, enlisting forthe Black Hawk war--doing anything, in a word, that came to hand andwould serve to put a little money in his pocket. He came to know a greatmany people and so, in 1832, he proclaimed himself a candidate for thestate legislature for Sangamon County, Illinois, where he had made hishome for some years. No doubt to most people, his candidacy must haveseemed in the nature of a joke, and though he stumped the countythoroughly and entertained the crowds with his stories and flashes ofwit, he was defeated at the polls. That episode ended, he returned to store-keeping; but he had come to seethat the law was the surest road to political preferment, and so hespent such leisure as he had in study, and in 1836 was admitted to thebar. As has been remarked before, the requirements for admission wereanything but prohibitory, most lawyers sharing the oft-quoted opinion ofPatrick Henry that the only way to learn law was to practise it. Lincolndecided to establish himself at Springfield, opened an office there, andfor the next twenty years, practised law with considerable success, riding from one court to another, and gradually extending his circle ofacquaintances. He even became prosperous enough to marry, and in 1842, after a courtship of the most peculiar description, married a Miss MaryTodd--a young woman somewhat above him in social station, and possessedof a sharp tongue and uncertain temper which often tried him severely. It was inevitable, of course, that he should become interested again inpolitics, and he threw in his fortunes with the Whig Party, serving twoor three terms in the state legislature and one in Congress. All of thisdid much to temper and chasten his native coarseness and uncouthness, but he was still just an average lawyer and politician, with no evidenceof greatness about him, and many evidences of commonness. Then, suddenly, in 1858, he stood forth as a national figure, in a contestwith one of the most noteworthy men in public life, Stephen A. Douglas. Douglas was an aggressive, tireless and brilliant political leader, theacknowledged head of the Democratic party, and had represented Illinoisin the Senate for many years. He had a great ambition to be President, had missed the nomination in 1852 and 1856, but was determined to secureit in 1860, and was carefully building to that end. His term as senatorexpired in 1858, and his re-election seemed essential to his success. Ofhis re-election he had no doubt, for Illinois had always been aDemocratic state, though it was becoming somewhat divided in opinion. The southern part was largely pro-slavery, but the northern part, including the rapidly-growing city of Chicago, was inclined the otherway. This division of opinion made Douglas's part an increasinglydifficult one, for pro-slave and anti-slave sentiment were asirreconcilable as fire and water. Lincoln, meanwhile, had been active in the formation of the newRepublican party in the state, had made a number of strong speeches, and, on June 16, 1858, the Republican convention resolved that: "Hon. Abraham Lincoln is our first and only choice for United States senatorto fill the vacancy about to be created by the expiration of Mr. Douglas's term of office. " A month later, Lincoln challenged Douglas toa series of joint debates. Douglas at once accepted, never doubting hisability to overwhelm his obscure opponent, and the famous duel beganwhich was to rivet national attention and give Lincoln a nationalprominence. The challenge on Lincoln's part was a piece of superb generalship. Insuch a contest, he had everything to gain and nothing to lose. Whateverthe result, the fact that he had crossed swords with so renowned a manas Stephen A. Douglas would give him a kind of reflected glory. But inaddition to that, he had the better side of the question. His course wassimple; he was seeking the support of anti-slavery people; Douglas'stask was much more complex, for he wished to offend neither northern norsouthern Democrats, and he soon found himself offending both. To carrywater on both shoulders is always a risky thing to attempt, and Douglassoon found himself fettered by the awkward position he was forced tomaintain; while Lincoln, free from any such handicap, could strike withall his strength. His stand from the first was a bold one--so bold that many of hisfollowers regarded it with consternation and disapproval. In his speechaccepting the nomination, he had said, "I believe this government cannotendure permanently half slave and half free. It will become all onething or all the other, " and he pursued this line of argument in thedebates alleging that the purpose of the pro-slavery men was to makeslavery perpetual and universal, and pointing to recent history inproof of the assertion. When asked by Douglas whether he considered thenegro his equal, he answered: "In the right to eat the bread which hisown hand earns, he is my equal, and the equal of Judge Douglas, and theequal of every living man. " He was not an abolitionist, and declaredmore than once that he had "no purpose, directly or indirectly, tointerfere with the institution of slavery in the states where itexists, " that he had "no lawful right to do so, " but only to prohibit itin "any new country which is not already cursed with the actual presenceof the evil. " Even so skillful a debater as Douglas soon found himself hard put to itto answer Lincoln's arguments, without offending one or the other of thepowerful factions whose support he must have to reach the presidency. Atthe beginning, his experience and adroitness gave him an advantage, which, however, Lincoln's earnestness and directness soon overcame. Tensof thousands of people gathered to hear the debates, they were printedfrom end to end of the country, and Lincoln loomed larger than everbefore the nation; but so far as the immediate result was concerned, Douglas was the victor, for the election gave him a majority of thelegislature, and he was chosen to succeed himself in the Senate. Yet more than once he must have regretted that he had consented to crossswords with his lank opponent, for he had been forced into many anawkward corner. There is a popular tradition that the presidentialnomination came to Lincoln unsought; but this is anything but true. Onthe contrary, in those debates with Douglas, he was consciously layingthe foundation for his candidacy two years later. He used every effortto drive Douglas to admissions and statements which would tell againsthim in a presidential campaign, while he himself took a position whichwould insure his popularity with the Republican party. So his defeat atthe time was of no great moment to him. He had gained an entrance to the national arena, and he took care toremain before the public. He made speeches in Ohio, in Kansas, and evenin New York and throughout New England, everywhere making a powerfulimpression. To disunion and secession he referred only once or twice, for he perceived a truth which, even yet, some of us are reluctant toadmit: that every nation has a right to maintain by force, if it can, its own integrity, and that a portion of a nation may sometimes bejustified in struggling for independent national existence. The wholejustification of such a struggle lies in whether its cause and basis isright or wrong. So, beneath the question of disunion, was the questionas to whether slavery was right or wrong. On this question, of course, northern opinion was practically all one way, while even in the Souththere were many enemies of the institution. The world was outgrowingwhat was really a survival of the dark ages. When the campaign for the presidential nomination opened in the winterof 1859-1860, Lincoln was early in the field and did everything possibleto win support. He secured the Illinois delegates without difficulty, and when the national convention met at Chicago, in May, the contestsoon narrowed down to one between Lincoln and William H. Seward. Let itbe said, at once, that Seward deserved the nomination, if high serviceand party loyalty and distinguished ability counted for anything, and itlooked for a time as though he were going to get it, for on the firstballot he received 71 more votes than Lincoln. But in the course of hispublic career he had made enemies who were anxious for his defeat, hiscampaign managers were too confident or too clumsy to take advantage ofopportunity; Lincoln's friends were busy, and by some expert trading, ofwhich, be it said in justice to Lincoln, he himself was ignorant, succeeded in securing for him a majority of the votes on the thirdballot. So, blindly and almost by chance, was the nomination secured of the oneman fitted to meet the crisis. The only other event in American historyto be compared with it in sheer wisdom was the selection of Washingtonto head the Revolutionary army--a selection made primarily, not becauseof Washington's fitness for the task, but to heal sectional differencesand win the support of the South to a war waged largely in the North. The nomination, so curiously made, was received with anything butenthusiasm by the country at large. "Honest Abe, the Rail-Splitter, "might appeal to some, but there was a general doubt whether, after all, rail-splitting, however honorable in itself, was the best training fora President. However, the anti-slavery feeling was a tie that boundtogether people of the most diverse opinions about other things, and aspirited canvass was made, greatly assisted by the final and suicidalsplit in the ranks of the Democracy, which placed in nomination two men, Lincoln's old antagonist, Stephen A. Douglas, representing the northernor moderate element of the party, and John C. Breckenridge, of Kentucky, representing the southern, or extreme pro-slavery element. And this wasjust the corner into which Lincoln had hoped, all along, to drive hisopponents. Had the party been united, he would have been hopelesslydefeated, for in the election which followed, he received only a littlemore than one third of the popular vote; but this was sufficient to givehim the northern states, with 180 electoral votes. But let us rememberthat, in 1860, Abraham Lincoln was the choice for President of very muchless than half the people of the country. The succeeding four months witnessed the peculiar spectacle of the Southleisurely completing its arrangements for secession, and perfecting itscivil and military organization, while the North, under a discreditedruler of whom it could not rid itself until March 4th, was unable tomake any counter-preparation or to do anything to prevent the diversionof a large portion of the arms and munitions of the country into thesouthern states. It gave the southern leaders, too, opportunity to workupon the feelings of their people, more than half of whom, in the fallof 1860, were opposed to disunion. It should not be forgotten that, however fully the South came afterwards to acquiesce in the policy ofsecession, it was, in its inception, a plan of the politicians, undertaken, to a great extent, for purposes of self-aggrandizement. Theycontrolled the conventions which, in every case except that of Texas, decided whether or not the state should secede. "We can make betterterms out of the Union than in it, " was a favorite argument, and many ofthem dreamed of the establishment of a great slave empire, in which theywould play the leading parts. To the southern leaders, then, the election of Lincoln was the strikingof the appointed hour for rebellion. South Carolina led the way, declaring, on December 17, 1860, that the "Union now subsisting betweenSouth Carolina and other states, under the name of the United States ofAmerica, is hereby dissolved. " Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana and Texas followed. Opinion at the North was divided as to theproper course to follow. Horace Greeley, in the New York _Tribune_, said that the South had as good a right to secede from the Union as thecolonies had to secede from Great Britain, and, as Greeley afterwardsobserved, the _Tribune_ had plenty of company in these sentiments. Meanwhile the Southern Confederacy had been formed, Jefferson Daviselected President, and steps taken at once for the organization of anarmy. Everyone was waiting anxiously for the inauguration of the newPresident--waiting to see what his course would be. They were not leftlong in doubt. His inaugural address was earnest and direct. He said, "The union of these States is perpetual. No State upon its own meremotion can lawfully get out of the Union. I shall take care that thelaws of the Union are faithfully executed in all the States. " It was, ineffect, a declaration of war, and was so received by the South. Whetheror not it was the constitutional attitude need not concern us now. The story of Lincoln's life for the next five years is the story of theCivil War. How Lincoln grew and broadened in those fateful years, how hewon men by his deep humanity, his complete understanding, his readysympathy; how, once having undertaken the task of conquering rebellion, he never faltered nor turned back despite the awful sacrifices which theconflict demanded; all this has passed into the commonplaces of history. No man ever had a harder task, and no other man could have accomplishedit so well. [Illustration: LINCOLN] The emancipation of the slaves, which has loomed so large in history, was in reality, merely an incident, a war measure, taken to weaken theenemy and justifiable, perhaps, only on that ground; the preliminaryproclamation, indeed, proposed to liberate the slaves only in suchstates as were in rebellion on the following first of January. Nor didemancipation create any great popular enthusiasm. The congressionalelections which followed it showed a great reaction againstanti-slavery. The Democrats carried Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Illinois. For a time the administration was fighting for its life, and won by an alarmingly small margin. Before the year had elapsed, however, there was a great reversal inpublic opinion, and at the succeeding election, Lincoln received 212 outof 233 electoral votes. The end of the Confederacy was by this time insight. A month after his second inauguration, Richmond fell, and fivedays later, Lee surrendered his army to General Grant. Lincoln at oncepaid a visit to Richmond and then returned to Washington for the lastact of the drama. The fourteenth of April was Good Friday, and the President arranged totake a small party to Ford's theatre to witness a performance of a farcecomedy called "Our American Cousin. " The President entered his box aboutnine o'clock and was given a tumultuous reception. Then the play wentforward quietly, until suddenly the audience was startled by a pistolshot, followed by a woman's scream. At the same instant, a man was seento leap from the President's box to the stage. Pausing only to wave adagger which he carried in his hand and to shout, "Sic semper tyrannis!"the man disappeared behind the scenes. Amid the confusion, no efficientpursuit was made. The President had been shot through the head, thebullet passing through the brain. Unconsciousness, of course, cameinstantly, and death followed in a few hours. Eleven days later, the murderer, an actor by the name of John WilkesBooth, was surrounded in a barn where he had taken refuge; he refused tocome out, and the barn was set on fire. Soon afterwards, the assassinwas brought forth with a bullet at the base of his brain, whether firedby himself or one of the besieging soldiers was never certainly known. It is startling to contemplate the fearful responsibility which Boothassumed when he fired that shot. So far from benefiting the South, hedid it incalculable harm, for the North was thoroughly aroused by thedeed. Thousands and thousands flocked to see the dead President as helay in state at the Capitol, and in the larger cities in which hisfuneral procession paused on its way to his home in Springfield. Thewhole country was in mourning, as for its father; business waspractically suspended, and the people seemed stunned by the greatcalamity. That so gentle a man should have been murdered wakened, deepdown in the heart of the North, a fierce resentment; the feelings ofkindliness for a vanquished foe were, for the moment, swept away inanger; and the North turned upon the South with stern face and shiningeyes. The wild and foolish assassin brought down upon the heads of hisown people such a wrath as the great conflict had not awakened. We shallsee how bitter was the retribution. Not then so fully as now was Lincoln's greatness understood. He has cometo personify for us the triumphs and glories, the sadness and thepathos, of the great struggle which he guided. His final martyrdom seemsalmost a fitting crown for his achievements. It has, without doubt, donemuch to secure him the exalted niche which he occupies in the hearts ofthe American people, whom, in a way, he died to save. Had he livedthrough the troubled period of Reconstruction which followed, he mighthave emerged with a fame less clear and shining; and yet the hand whichguided the country through four years of Civil War, was without doubtthe one best fitted to save it from the misery and disgrace which lay instore for it. But speculations as to what might have been are vain andidle. What was, we know; and above the clouds of conflict, Lincoln'sfigure looms, serene and venerable. Two of his own utterances reveal himas the words of no other man can--his address on the battlefield ofGettysburg, and his address at his second inauguration--but two monthsafter he was laid to rest, James Russell Lowell, at the services incommemoration of the three hundredth anniversary of Harvard College, paid him one of the most eloquent tributes ever paid any man, concludingwith the words: "Great captains, with their guns and drums; Disturb our judgment for the hour, But at last silence comes; These all are gone, and, standing like a tower, Our children shall behold his fame, The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man;Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame; New birth of our new soil, the first American. " On the ticket with Lincoln, the Republicans had placed, as a sop to suchpro-slavery sentiment as still existed at the North, a southerner andstate rights Democrat named Andrew Johnson. By one of those singularchances of history, Johnson's origin and early years had been very muchlike Lincoln's. He, too, was born of a "poor white" family; first seeingthe light in North Carolina about six weeks before Abraham Lincolnopened his eyes in that rude log cabin in Kentucky. His condition was, if anything, even more hopeless and degraded than Lincoln's, and if anyone had prophesied that these two ignorant and poverty-stricken childrenwould one day rise, side by side, to the greatest position in theRepublic, he would have been regarded, and justly, as a hopeless madman. But not even to a madman did any such wild idea occur. "Poor whites"were despised throughout the South, even by the slaves; if there was, inthe whole United States, any law of caste, it was against these ignorantand shiftless people; and Andrew Johnson, at the age of fifteen, waslittle better than a young savage. He had never gone to school, he hadnever seen a book. But one day, he heard a man reading aloud, and thewonder of it quickened a new purpose within him. He induced a friend toteach him the alphabet, and then, borrowing the book, he laboriouslytaught himself to read. So there was something more than "poor white" inhim, after all. By the time he was eighteen, he had had enough of his shiftlesssurroundings, and struck out for himself, journeyed across the mountainsto Greenville, Tennessee, met there a girl of sixteen named ElizaMcCardle, and, with youth's sublime improvidence, married her! As ithappened, he did well, for his wife had a fair education, and nightafter night taught him patiently, until he could read fairly well andwrite a little. I like to think of that family group, so different frommost, and to admire that girl-wife teaching her husband the rudiments ofeducation. Already, as a result of his lowly birth and the class prejudice heeverywhere encountered, young Johnson had conceived that hatred of theruling class at the South which was to influence his after life sodeeply. He had a certain rude eloquence which appealed to the lowerclasses of the people, and, in 1835, succeeded in gaining an election tothe state legislature. He nursed his political prospects carefully, andeight years later, was sent to Congress. He was afterwards twicegovernor of Tennessee. It has been said that secession was, in the beginning, a policy of theruling class in the South and not of the people. It is not surprising, then, that Johnson should have arrayed himself against it, and fought itwith all his might. This position made him so prominent, that on March4, 1862, Lincoln appointed him military-governor of Tennessee--aposition which was exactly to Johnson's taste and which he filled well. In this position, he seemed the embodiment of the Union element of theSouth, and at their national convention in 1864, the Republicans decidedthat the President's policy of reconstruction for the South would begreatly aided by the presence of a southern man on the ticket, andJohnson was thereupon chosen for the office of Vice-President. On thesame day that Lincoln was inaugurated for the second time, Johnson tookthe oath of office in the Senate chamber, and delivered a speech whichcreated a sensation. He declared, in effect, that Tennessee had neverbeen out of the Union, that she was electing representatives who wouldsoon mingle with their brothers from the North at Washington, and thatshe was entitled to every privilege which the northern states enjoyed. Three hours after the death of the President, Andrew Johnson took theoath of office as his successor, but he was regarded with suspicion atboth North and South--at the North, because he was believed to be atheart pro-slavery; at the South because of his well-known animositytoward the aristocratic and ruling class. He was also known to bestubborn, high-tempered and intemperate, and he and Congress were soonat sword's point. Johnson was of the opinion that the question ofsuffrage for the negroes should be left to the several states; amajority of Congress were determined to exact this for their ownprotection. This was embodied in the so-called Civil Rights Bill, conferring citizenship upon colored men. It was promptly vetoed by thePresident, and was passed over his veto; soon afterwards the fourteenthamendment was passed, conferring the suffrage upon all citizens of theUnited States without regard to color or previous condition ofservitude. It also was vetoed, and passed over the veto. Johnson washailed as a traitor by Republicans, and the campaign against himculminated in his impeachment by Congress early in 1868. The trialwhich followed was the most bitter in the history of the Senate, butAndrew Johnson was acquitted by the failure of the prosecution to securethe two-thirds vote necessary for conviction by a single vote, thirty-five senators voting for conviction and nineteen for acquittal. Johnson's friends were jubilant, but his power had vanished. The secededstates one by one came back into the Union in accordance with theReconstruction act which Johnson had vetoed. He failed of the nominationon the Democratic ticket, and after the inauguration of his successor, at once returned to his old home in Tennessee. There he attempted tosecure the nomination for United States senator, but his influence wasgone and he was defeated. So ended his public life. It has been rather the fashion to picture Johnson, as an intemperate andbull-headed ignoramus, but such a characterization is far from fair. Butfor Lincoln's assassination, some such policy of reconstruction asJohnson advocated would probably have been carried out, instead of thepolicy of fanatics like Thaddeus Stevens, which left the South a prey tothe carpet-bagger and the ignorant negro for over a decade. Johnsonhimself might have accomplished more if he had been of a less violentdisposition; but he was ignorant of diplomacy, incapable of compromise, and so was worsted in the fight. However we may disagree with his policyand dislike his character, let us at least not forget that picture ofthe "poor white" boy teaching himself to read; and that other of thegirl-wife patiently instructing him in the rudiments of writing. * * * * * A successful war inevitably gives to its commanders a tremendous popularprestige. We have seen how the battle of New Orleans made Andrew Jacksona national hero, how William Henry Harrison loomed large after thebattle of Tippecanoe, and how Zachary Taylor was chosen President as aresult of his victories in Mexico. The country was now to undergoanother period of military domination, longer lived than those others, as the Civil War was greater than them--a period from which it has evenyet not fully recovered. In 1868, the Republican party nominated unanimously for President thegeneral who had pushed the war to a successful finish, and who hadreceived Lee's surrender, Ulysses Simpson Grant, and he was elected byan overwhelming majority. For the first time in the history of thecountry, a man had been elected President without regard to hisqualifications for the office, for even Jackson had had many years'experience in public affairs. Of such qualifications, Grant had veryfew. He was egotistical, a poor judge of men, without experience instatesmanship, and unwilling to submit to guidance. As a result, hisadministration was marked by inefficiency and extravagance, and ended ina swirl of scandal. Born in Ohio in 1822, and graduated at West Point, he had served throughthe war with Mexico, resigned from the army, remained in obscurity forsix years, during which he made an unsuccessful attempt to supporthimself in civil life, and entered the army again at the outbreak of theCivil War. From the first he was successful more than any other of theUnion generals, not so much because of military genius as from a certaintenacity of purpose with which he fairly wore out the enemy. But apeople discouraged by reverses were not disposed to inquire too closelyinto the reason of his victories, and early in 1864, after a brilliantcampaign along the Mississippi, he had been appointed commander-in-chiefof the Union army, and began that series of operations against Richmondwhich cost the North so dear, but which resulted in the fall of thecapital of the Confederacy and in Lee's surrender. A bearded, square-jawed, silent man, he caught the public fancy by twomessages, the one of "Unconditional surrender, " with which he hadanswered the demand for terms on the part of the Confederates whom hehad entrapped in Fort Donelson; the other, the famous: "I propose tofight it out on this line, if it takes all summer, " with which hestarted his campaign in the Wilderness. Both were characteristic, and ifGrant had retired from public life at the close of the Civil War, or hadbeen content to remain commander-in-chief of the army of the UnitedStates, his fame would probably have been brighter than it is to-day. His training, such as it was, had been wholly military and his inauguraladdress showed his profound ignorance of the work which lay beforehim--an ignorance all the more profound and unreachable because of hisserene unconsciousness of it. He fell at once an easy prey to politicaldemagogues, and before the close of his first administration, demoralization was widespread throughout the government. A large portionof the Republican party, realizing his unfitness for the office, opposedhis renomination, and when they saw his nomination was inevitable, brokeaway and named a ticket of their own, but Grant's victory was a sweepingone. With this stamp of public approval, the boodlers became bolder and greatscandals followed, involving many members of Congress and even somemembers of the cabinet, but not the President himself, of whose personalhonesty there was never any doubt, and in 1873, came the worst panic thecountry had ever experienced. A political reaction followed, and in 1874the Democrats carried the country, gaining the House of Representativesby a majority of nearly a hundred. Following his retirement from office in 1877, Grant made a tour of theworld, returning in 1879, to be again a candidate for the presidency, and coming very near to getting the nomination. It was characteristic ofthe man's egotism that, even yet, he did not realize his unfitness forthe office, but thought himself great enough to disregard the precedentwhich Washington had established. He lived five years longer, the lastyears of his life rendered miserable by cancer of the throat, whichfinally killed him. In the summer of 1876, the Republicans nominated Rutherford B. Hayes, at that time Governor of Ohio, as their candidate for President--anomination which was a surprise to the country, which had confidentlyexpected that of James G. Blaine. Hayes was by no means a nationalfigure, although he had served in the Union army, had been in Congress, and, as has been said, was governor of Ohio at the time of hisnomination. Nor was he a man of more than very ordinary ability, upright, honest, and mediocre. The Democratic candidate was Samuel J. Tilden, a political star of the first magnitude, and the contest whichfollowed was unprecedented in American history. Tilden received a popular majority of half a million votes, and 184electoral votes, out of the 185 necessary to elect, without counting thevotes from Florida, South Carolina and Louisiana, all of which he hadcarried on the face of the returns. The Republicans disputed the vote inthese states, however, and by the inexorable use of party machinery andcarpet-bag government, declared Hayes elected. For a time, so manifestwas the partisan bias of this decision, the country seemed on the vergeof another Civil War, but Tilden led in wiser council, and Hayes waspermitted to take his seat. It is the only instance in a nationalelection where the will of the people at the polls has been defied andoverridden. Hayes was a sincere and honest man, and he felt keenly the cloud whichthe manner of his election cast over his administration. He was neverpopular with his party, and no doubt he felt that the debt he owed itfor getting him his seat was a doubtful one. His administration wasnoteworthy principally because he destroyed the last vestiges ofcarpet-bag government in the South, and left the southern states to workout their own destiny unhampered. He was not even considered for arenomination, and spent the remainder of his life quietly in his Ohiohome. Hayes's successor was another so-called "dark horse, " that is, a man ofminor importance, whose nomination, was due to the fact that the partyleaders could not agree upon any of the more prominent candidates. Theywere Grant, Blaine and John Sherman, and after thirty-five ballots, itwas evident that a "dark horse" must be found. The choice fell uponJames Abram Garfield, who was not prominent enough to have made anyenemies, and who was as astonished as was the country at large when itheard the news. Garfield was born in Ohio in 1831, in a little log cabin and to aposition in the world not greatly different to Lincoln's. While laboringat various rough trades, he succeeded in preparing himself for college, worked his way through, got into politics, served through the Civil War, and later for eighteen years in Congress, where he made a creditable butby no means brilliant record. He was elected President by a smallmajority, and enraged the many enemies of James G. Blaine by selectingthat astute politician as his secretary of state. One of these, arattle-brained New Yorker named Charles J. Guiteau, approached thePresident on July 2, 1881, as he was waiting at a railroad station inWashington, about to start on a journey, and shot him through the body. Death followed, after a painful struggle, two months later. Obscure, in a sense, as Garfield had been, the man who succeeded him wasimmeasurably more so. Chester Alan Arthur was a successful New Yorklawyer, who had dabbled in politics and held some minor appointiveoffices, his selection as Vice-President being due to the desire of theRepublican managers to throw a sop to the Empire State. Hisadministration, however, while marked by no great or stirring event, wasfor the most part wise and conservative, but James G. Blaine had by thistime secured complete control of the party, and Arthur had no chance forthe nomination for President. He died of apoplexy within two years ofhis retirement. * * * * * The Republican party had been supreme in the national government for aquarter of a century, and there seemed no reason to doubt that Blaine, its candidate in the campaign of 1884, would at last realize hisconsuming ambition to be elected President. He had an immense personalprestige, he had outlived the taint of corruption attached to him duringthe administration of Grant, and he had for years been preparing andstrengthening himself for this contest. So he entered it confidently. But a new issue had arisen--that of the protective tariff, which, originally a war revenue measure, had been formally adopted as aprinciple of Republicanism, which was hailed by its adherents as a newand brilliant economic device for enriching everybody at nobody'sexpense, and which had really enriched a few at the expense of the many. The Democrats, with considerable hesitation and ambiguity, pronouncedagainst it, arraigned the Republican party for corruption, and named astheir nominee Grover Cleveland, of New York. Cleveland was born in New Jersey in 1837, the son of a clergyman whoseearly death threw him upon his own resources. He started west in searchof employment, stopped at Buffalo, and afterwards made it his home. Hestudied law while working as a clerk and copyist, was admitted to thebar in 1859, and in the late seventies was elected mayor of Buffalo on areform ticket. Almost at once, the country's eyes were fastened uponhim. Elected as a reform mayor, he continued to be one after hisinduction into office. He actually seemed to think that the promises andpledges made by him during his campaign were still binding upon him, andastounded the politicians by proceeding to carry those promises out. Soscathing were the veto messages he sent in, one after another, to acorrupt council, that they awakened admiration and respect even amonghis opponents. The messages, written in the plainest of plain English, aroused the people of the city to the way in which they had been robbedby dishonest officials, they rallied behind him, and his reputation wasmade. In 1882, his party wanted a reform candidate for governor, andthey naturally turned to Cleveland, and he was elected by a plurality oftwo hundred thousand. He found the same condition of things on a larger scale at Albany as atBuffalo--a corrupt machine paying political debts with public money--andhere, again, he showed the same astonishing regard for pre-electionpledges, the same belief in his famous declaration that "a public officeis a public trust, " and bill after bill was vetoed, while the peopleapplauded. And with every veto came a message stating its reasons inlanguage which did not mince words and which all could understand. Heshowed himself not only to be entirely beyond the control of thepolitical machine of his own party, but also to possess remarkable moralcourage, and he became naturally and inevitably the Democratic candidatefor President, since the Democratic platform was in the main anarraignment of Republican corruption and moral decay. The campaign whichfollowed was a bitter one; but Blaine had estranged a large portion ofhis party, he made a number of bad blunders, and Cleveland was elected. The old party founded by Jefferson, which, beginning with Jefferson'sadministration, had ruled the country uninterruptedly for forty years, was returned to power, and on an issue which would have delightedJefferson's heart. Much to the dismay and disappointment of the politicians, the newPresident made no clean sweep of Republican officeholders. He took theunheard-of ground that, in the public service, as in any other, goodwork merited advancement, no matter what the politics of the individualmight be. He made some changes, as a matter of course, but he was fromthe first sturdily in favor of civil service reform. It is worthremarking that a Democratic President was the first to take a decidedstand against the principle of "to the victors belong the spoils, " firstput into practice by another Democratic President, Andrew Jackson, overfifty years before. His stand, too, on the pension question was startling in its audacity. The shadow of the Civil War still hung over the country; the soldierswho had served in that war had formed themselves into a great, semi-political organization, known as the Grand Army of the Republic, and worked unceasingly for increased pensions, which Congress had founditself unable to refuse. More than that, the members of Congress were inthe habit of passing hundreds of special bills, giving pensions to menwhose claims had been rejected by the pension department, as not comingwithin the law. Cleveland took the stand that, unless the soldier hadbeen disabled by the war, he had no just claim to government support, and he vetoed scores of private pension bills, many of which were shownto be fraudulent. In other ways, his remarkable strength of personality soon becameapparent, and his determination to do what he thought his duty, regardless of consequences. His message of December, 1887, fairlystartled the country. It was devoted entirely to a denunciation of thehigh tariff laws, a subject on which the Democratic leaders had deemedit prudent to maintain a discreet silence since the preceding election, and which many of them hoped would be forgotten by the public. ButCleveland's message brought the question squarely to the front, and madeit the one issue of the campaign which followed. Cleveland would havebeen elected but for the traitorous conduct of the leaders in New York, who had never forgiven him for the way in which, as governor, he hadscourged them. New York State was lost to him, and his opponent, Benjamin Harrison, was elected, although his popular vote fell belowthat of Cleveland by over a hundred thousand. But Cleveland had his revenge four years later, when, in spite of theprotests of the leaders from his own state of New York, he was againnominated on a platform denouncing the tariff, and defeated Harrison byan overwhelming majority. And now came one of those strange instances ofparty perfidy and party suicide, of which the country has just witnesseda second example. In accordance with the platform pledges, a bill tolower the tariff was at once framed in the House and adopted; but theSenate, although Democratic in complexion, so altered it that it fellfar short of carrying out the party pledges. The leader in the Senatewas Arthur P. Gorman, of Maryland, and to him chiefly was due this actof treachery. The President refused to sign the bill, and it became alaw without his signature. There can be little question that it was thefailure of the Democratic party to fulfil its pledges at that criticaltime which led to its subsequent disruption and defeat. Twice more did Cleveland startle the country with his extraordinarydecision of character. In the summer of 1894, a great railroad strike, centering at Chicago, occasioned an outbreak of violence, which thegovernor of Illinois did nothing to quell. The President, therefore, declaring that the rioters had no right to interfere with the UnitedStates mails, ordered national troops to the scene to maintain order. Ayear later, when the British Government, involved in a boundary disputewith Venezuela, declared that it did not accept the Monroe Doctrine andwould not submit the dispute to arbitration, the President sent amessage to Congress, declaring that the Monroe Doctrine must be upheldat whatever cost. The country was thrilled from end to end, thePresident's course approved, and Great Britain at last consented toarbitration. [Illustration: CLEVELAND] And yet, when Cleveland left the presidential chair for the second time, he had entirely lost control of and sympathy with his own party. He hadshown little tact in his dealings with the party leaders. He seemed toforget that, after all, these leaders had certain rights and privilegeswhich should be respected; he sometimes blundered through very anxietyto be right. You have heard some men called so upright that they leanedover backward--well, that, occasionally, was Cleveland's fault. Hewas subjected to such a storm of abuse as no other ex-President ever hadto endure. That he felt it keenly there can be no question; but in theyears which followed, his sturdy and unassailable character came to berecognized and appreciated, and his death, in the summer of 1908, wasthe occasion of deep and widespread sorrow. * * * * * We have told how, in 1888, Cleveland was defeated for the presidency byBenjamin Harrison. Harrison was a grandson of the old warrior ofTippecanoe, William Henry Harrison, the successful candidate of the Whigparty forty-eight years before. He was an able but not brilliant man, had served through the Civil War, and was afterwards elected senatorfrom Indiana, to which state he had removed from Ohio at an early age. The platform on which he was elected pledged the party to the protectivetariff principle, and a high tariff measure, known as the McKinley Bill, was passed, raising duties to a point higher than had ever before beenknown in the history of the United States. The Dependent Pension Bill, which Cleveland had vetoed, and which gave apension to every Union soldier who was from any cause unable to earn aliving, was also passed. But these policies did not appeal to thepublic; besides which, Harrison, although a man of integrity andability, was popular with neither the rank nor file of his party, through a total lack of personal magnetism, and though he received thenomination, Cleveland easily defeated him. The remainder of his lifewas passed quietly at his Indiana home. * * * * * We have seen how Cleveland's independence and want of tact estranged himfrom his party, and the party itself was soon to run upon virtualshipwreck, under the guidance of strange leaders. A word must be said, in this place, of the extraordinary man who led it three times todefeat. When the Democratic national convention met in Chicago in 1896, one ofthe delegates from Nebraska was a brilliant and eloquent lawyer namedWilliam Jennings Bryan. He had gained some prominence in his state, andhad served in Congress for four years, but he was practically unknownwhen he arose before the convention and made a free-silver speech whichfairly carried the delegates off their feet. Good oratory is rare at anytime; its power can hardly be overestimated, especially in swaying acrowd; and Bryan was one of the greatest orators that ever addressed aconvention. His nomination for the Presidency followed, and the result was thepractical dismemberment of the Democratic party. For Bryan was aPopulist, as far as possible removed from the fundamental principles ofDemocracy, advocating strange socialistic measures; and the conservativeelement of the party regarded him and his theories with such distrustthat it put another ticket in the field, and he was badly beaten. Twicemore he led the party in presidential campaigns, each time beingdefeated more decisively than the last. His engaging personality, hisready oratory, and his supreme gifts as a politician won for him a vastnumber of devoted friends, who believed, and who still believe, in himabsolutely; but the country at large, apparently, will have none of him. * * * * * The Republican nominee in 1896 was William McKinley, of Ohio, best knownas the framer of the McKinley tariff bill. Born in Ohio in 1843, he hadserved through the Civil War, had been a member of Congress and twicegovernor of Ohio. He was a thorough party man, and modified his formerviews on the silver question to conform with the platform on which hewas nominated; his campaign manager, Mark Hanna, was one of the mostastute politicians the country had ever produced, and raised a campaignfund of unprecedented magnitude; all of which, combined with thedisintegration of the Democratic party, gave McKinley a notable victory. The great event of his first administration was the war with Spain, undertaken to free Cuba, into which McKinley, be it said to his credit, was driven unwillingly by public clamor, cunningly fostered by a portionof the press. Its close saw the purchase of the Philippines, and theentrance of the United States upon a colonial policy believed by many tobe wholly contrary to the spirit of its founders. There was never any question of McKinley's renomination, for hisprestige and personal popularity were immense, and his victory wasagain decisive. He had broadened rapidly, had gained in statesmanship, had acquired a truer insight into the country's needs, and was nowfreed, to a great extent, from party obligations. Great hopes were builtupon his second administration, and they would no doubt have beenfulfilled, in part at least; but a few months after his inauguration, hewas shot through the body by an irresponsible anarchist while holding apublic reception at Buffalo, and died within the week. The years whichhave elapsed since his death enable us to view him more calmly than waspossible while he lived, and the country has come to recognize in him anhonest and well-meaning man, of more than ordinary ability, who mighthave risen to true statesmanship and won for himself a high place in thecountry's history had he been spared. On the ticket with McKinley, a young New Yorker named Theodore Roosevelthad been elected Vice-President. Roosevelt had long been prominent inhis native state as an enthusiastic reformer, had made a sensationalrecord in the war with Spain, and, on his return home, had been electedgovernor by popular clamor, rather than by the will of the politicians, to whom his rough-and-ready methods were extremely repugnant. So whenthe national convention was about to be held, they conceived the greatidea of removing him from state politics and putting him on the shelf, so to speak, by electing him Vice-President, and the plan was carriedout in spite of Roosevelt's protests. Alas for the politicians! It waswith a sort of poetic justice that he took the oath as President on theday of McKinley's death, September 14, 1901, while they were stillrubbing their eyes and wondering what had happened. His evident honesty of purpose, combined with an impulsive and energetictemperament, which led him into various indiscretions, soon made him apopular hero. He was a sort of Andrew Jackson over again, and in 1904, he was sent back to the presidency by an overwhelming majority. For atime he was, indeed, the central figure of the republic. His energy wasremarkable; he had a hand in everything; but many people, after a time, grew weary of so tumultuous and strenuous a life, and drew away fromhim, while still more were estranged by the undignified and violentcontroversies in which he became entangled. It is too soon, however, toattempt to give a true estimate of him. Indeed, he is as yet only inmid-career; and what his years to come will accomplish cannot be evenguessed. Despite his controversies with the leaders of his party, he retainedsufficient power to dictate the nomination of his successor, WilliamHoward Taft, an experienced jurist and administrator, who is but justentering upon his work as these lines are written, but to whom theAmerican people are looking hopefully for a wise and moderateadministration. * * * * * So stands the history of the rulers of the nation. As one looks back atthem, one perceives a certain rhythmical rise and fall of merit andattainment, which may roughly be represented thus: [Illustration] Washington freed us from the power of England; Lincoln freed us from thepower of slavery; the third man in this great trio will be he who willsolve the vast economic problems which are the overshadowing issues ofour day. Will he be a Democrat or Republican--or of some new party yetto be born? In any event, let us hope that Fate will not long withholdhim! SUMMARY LINCOLN, ABRAHAM. Born in Hardin County, Kentucky, February 12, 1809;served in Black Hawk war, 1832; admitted to the bar, 1836; beganpractice of law at Springfield, Illinois, 1837; Whig member Illinoislegislature, 1834-42; member of Congress, 1847-49; Republican candidatefor United States senator and held series of debates with Stephen A. Douglas, 1858; elected President, 1860; inaugurated, March 4, 1861;re-elected President, 1864; began second term, March 4, 1865; enteredRichmond with Federal army, April 4, 1865; shot by John Wilkes Booth, atFord's Theatre, Washington, April 14, 1865, and died the following day. JOHNSON, ANDREW. Born at Raleigh, North Carolina, December 29, 1808;member of Congress from Tennessee, 1843-53; governor of Tennessee, 1853-57; United States senator, 1857-62; military governor of Tennessee, 1862-64; inaugurated Vice-President, March 4, 1865; succeeded Lincoln asPresident, April 15, 1865; impeached by Congress for high crimes andmisdemeanors, but acquitted after a trial lasting from March 23 to May26, 1868; United States senator from Tennessee, 1875; died in CarterCounty, Tennessee, July 31, 1875. GRANT, ULYSSES SIMPSON. Born at Point Pleasant, Clermont County, Ohio, April 27, 1822; graduated at West Point, 1843; served through Mexicanwar, 1846-48; left the army in 1854, and settled in St. Louis; removedto Galena, Illinois, 1860; appointed colonel, June 17, 1861;brigadier-general, August 7, 1861; captured Fort Donelson, February 16, 1862; promoted to major-general of volunteers and made commander of theArmy of the District of West Tennessee, March, 1862; gained battle ofShiloh, April 6-7, 1862; captured Vicksburg, July 4, 1863, and mademajor-general in the regular army; won battle of Chattanooga, November23-25, 1863; made lieutenant-general and commander-in-chief of Americanarmies, March, 1864; took up his headquarters with the Army of thePotomac, fought battles of Wilderness, and received Lee's surrender atAppomattox Court House, April 9, 1865; made general, July 25, 1866;elected President, 1868, and re-elected, 1872; made tour of the world, 1877-79; unsuccessful candidate for nomination for presidency, 1880;made general on the retired list, March 4, 1885; died at Mount McGregor, New York, July 23, 1885. HAYES, RUTHERFORD BIRCHARD. Born at Delaware, Ohio, October 4, 1822;served in the Union army during the Civil War, being brevettedmajor-general of volunteers in 1864; member of Congress from Ohio, 1865-67; governor of Ohio, 1868-72 and 1876; Republican candidate forPresident, 1876; declared elected by the Electoral Commission, March 2, 1877, and served, 1877-81; died at Fremont, Ohio, January 17, 1893. GARFIELD, JAMES ABRAM. Born at Orange, Cuyahoga County, Ohio, November19, 1831; instructor in and later president of Hiram College, Ohio, 1856-61; joined the Union army as lieutenant-colonel of volunteers, 1861; defeated General Humphrey Marshall at the battle of Middle Creek, January 10, 1862; promoted brigadier-general, 1862; promotedmajor-general, 1863; member of Congress, 1863-80; elected United Statessenator, 1880; elected President, 1880; inaugurated, March 4, 1881; shotin Washington by Guiteau, July 2, 1881; died at Elberon, New Jersey, September 19, 1881. ARTHUR, CHESTER ALAN. Born at Fairfield, Vermont, October 5, 1830;graduated at Union College, 1848; taught school and practiced law in NewYork City; inspector-general of New York troops, 1862; collector of theport of New York, 1871-78; elected Vice-President, 1880; succeededGarfield as President, September 20, 1881, serving to March 4, 1885;defeated for Republican nomination, 1884; died at New York, November18, 1886. CLEVELAND, GROVER. Born at Caldwell, Essex County, New Jersey, March 18, 1837; studied law at Buffalo, New York, and admitted to the bar, 1859;assistant district attorney of Erie County, 1863-66; sheriff of ErieCounty, 1871-74; Democratic mayor of Buffalo, 1882; governor of NewYork, 1883-84; elected President, 1884; served as President, 1885-89;advocated a reduction of the tariff in his message to Congress inDecember, 1887; defeated for re-election, 1888; re-elected President, 1892; served, 1893-97; died at Princeton, New Jersey, June 24, 1908. HARRISON, BENJAMIN. Born at North Bend, Ohio, August 20, 1833; graduatedat Miami University, 1852; studied law and practiced at Indianapolis;served in Civil War and was brevetted brigadier-general; United Statessenator, 1881-87; elected President, 1888; defeated for re-election, 1892; died at Indianapolis, March 13, 1901. MCKINLEY, WILLIAM. Born at Niles, Trumbull County, Ohio, January 29, 1844; served in the Civil War, attaining the rank of major; member ofCongress, 1877-91; elected governor of Ohio, 1891; re-elected, 1893;elected President, 1896; re-elected, 1900; shot by an assassin atBuffalo, New York, and died there, September 14, 1901. ROOSEVELT, THEODORE. Born at New York City, October 27, 1858; graduatedat Harvard, 1880; New York state assemblyman, 1882-84; resided on NorthDakota ranch, 1884-86; national Civil Service Commissioner, 1889-95;president New York Police Board, 1895-97; assistant secretary of thenavy, 1897-98; resigned to organize regiment of Rough Riders and servedthrough war with Spain; governor of New York, 1899-1900; electedVice-President, 1900; succeeded to presidency on death of McKinley, September 14, 1901; elected President, 1904; retired from presidency, March 4, 1909. TAFT, WILLIAM HOWARD. Born at Cincinnati, Ohio, September 15, 1857;graduated at Yale, 1878; admitted to bar, 1880; judge Superior Court, 1887-90; solicitor-general of the United States, 1890-92; United Statescircuit judge, 1892-1900; President Philippine Commission, 1900-04;secretary of war, 1904-08; elected President, 1908; inaugurated, March4, 1909. * * * * * CHAPTER V STATESMEN If one were asked to name the most remarkable all-around genius thiscountry has produced, the answer would be Benjamin Franklin--whose lifewas perhaps the fullest, happiest and most useful ever lived in America. There are half a dozen chapters of this series in which he mightrightfully find a place, and in which, indeed, it will be necessary torefer to him, for he was an inventor, a scientist, a man of letters, aphilanthropist, a man of affairs, a reformer, and a great many otherthings besides. But first and greatest of all, he was a benign, humorous, kind-hearted philosopher, who devoted the greater portion ofhis life to the service of his country and of humanity. Benjamin Franklin was born at Boston in 1706, the fifteenth of a familyof seventeen children. His father was a soap-boiler, and was kept prettybusy providing for his family, none of whom, with the exception ofBenjamin, ever attained any especial distinction; this being one ofthose mysteries of nature, which no one has ever been able to explain, and yet which happens so often--the production of an eagle in a brood ofcommon barnyard fowls--a miracle, however, which never happens exceptwhen the barnyard fowls are of the human species. Benjamin himself, atfirst, was only an ugly duckling in no way remarkable. At the age of ten, he was apprenticed to his brother, who was a printer, and needed a boy to do the dirty work around the office, and thoughtthere was no need of paying good money to an outsider, when it mightjust as well be kept in the family. So Benjamin went to work sweepingout, and washing up the dirty presses, and making himself generallyuseful during the day; but--and here is the first gleam of the eagle'sfeather--instead of going to bed with the sun as most boys did, he satup most of the night reading such books and papers as he was able to gethold of at the office, or himself writing short articles for the paperwhich his brother published. These he slipped unsigned under the frontdoor of the office, so that his brother would not suspect they came fromhim; for no man is a prophet to his own family, and these contributionswould have promptly gone into the waste basket had his brother suspectedtheir source. As it was, however, they were printed, and not untilBenjamin revealed their authorship did his brother discover how bad theywere. After he had served in the printing office for seven years, Benjamincame to the conclusion that his family would never appreciate him at hisreal worth. He was like most boys in this, differing from them only inbeing right. So he sold some of his books, and without saying anythingto his father or brother, who would probably have reasoned him out ofhis purpose with a cowhide whip, he hid himself on board a boat boundfor New York. Arrived there, he soon discovered that printers andbudding geniuses were in no great demand, and so proceeded on toPhiladelphia, partly on foot and partly by water. Everyone knows the story of how he landed there, with only a few penniesin his pocket, but with a sublime confidence in his ability to makemore; how he proceeded to the nearest bakeshop, asked for three pennies'worth of bread, and when he was given three loaves, took them ratherthan reveal his ignorance by confessing that he really wanted only oneloaf, and walked up Market street, with a loaf under each arm, andeating the third. He has told the story in his inimitable way in hisautobiography, a work which gives him high place among American men ofletters. Small wonder that red-cheeked Deborah Reed smiled at him fromthe door of her father's house--but Franklin saw the smile andremembered it, and though it brought them both distress enough at first, he asked Deborah to be his wife, six years later, and she consented, anda good wife she made him. Years afterward, when he was Ambassador toFrance and the pet of the French court, the centre of perhaps the mostbrilliant and witty circle in Europe, the talk, one day, chanced to turnupon tailors, of whom the company expressed the utmost detestation. Franklin listened with a quiet smile, which some one at last observed. "Don't you agree, " he was asked, "that tailors are a conscienceless andextortionate class?" "No, " he answered, still smiling; "how could I? You see, I'm in lovewith mine. " And he told proudly and with shining eyes how the clothes he wore hadbeen spun into thread and woven into cloth and cut out and fitted andsewed together by his wife's own hands; and it was no doubt Deborah hehad in mind when he said: "God bless all good women who help men to dotheir work. " The young adventurer had no difficulty in finding employment as aprinter, for printers were in demand in that Quaker city. He prosperedfrom the first, and at the age of twenty-four, had a little business ofhis own, and was editing the _Pennsylvania Gazette_. Two years later, hebegan the publication of an almanac purporting to be written by oneRichard Saunders, and which soon won an immense reputation as "PoorRichard's Almanac. " As an almanac, it did not differ much from others, but, in addition to the usual information about the tides and changes ofthe moon and seasons of the year, it contained a wealth of wise andwitty sayings, many of which have passed into proverbs and are in commonuse to-day. Here are a few of them: Virtue and a trade are a child's best portions. Write injuries in dust, benefits in marble. The way to be safe is never to be secure. When you are good to others, you are best to yourself. Well done is better than well said. God helps them that help themselves. Wish not so much to live long as to live well. He that won't be counselled can't be helped. That he was a philosopher in deed as well as in word was soon to beproved, for, at the age of forty-two, he did the wisest thing a man cando, but for which very few have courage. He had won an establishedposition in the world and as much wealth as he felt he needed, so hesold his business, intending to devote the remainder of his life toscience, of which he had always been passionately fond. Already he hadfounded the Philadelphia Library and the American Philosophical Society, had invented the Franklin stove, and served as postmaster ofPhiladelphia, and a few years later, he established the institutionwhich is now the University of Pennsylvania. It was at about this timethat, by experimenting with a kite, he proved lightning to be adischarge of electricity, and suggested the use of lightning rods. [Illustration: FRANKLIN] But his scientific studies were destined to be interrupted, for hiscountry called him, and the remainder of his life was passed in herservice, first as agent in London for Pennsylvania, where he dideverything possible to avert the Revolution; then as a member of theContinental Congress, and one of the committee of five which drew up theDeclaration of Independence; then as ambassador to France, where, practically unaided, he succeeded in effecting the alliance between thetwo countries which secured the independence of the colonies; andfinally as President of Pennsylvania and a member of the ConstitutionalConvention. His last public act was to petition Congress to abolishslavery in the United States. If one were asked to name the three menwho did most to secure the independence of their country, they would beGeorge Washington, who fought her battles, Robert Morris, who financedthem, and Benjamin Franklin, who secured the aid of France. When ThomasJefferson, who had been selected as minister to France, appeared at thecourt of Louis XVI, he presented his papers to the Comte de Vergennes. "You replace Mr. Franklin?" inquired the nobleman, glancing at thepapers. "No, monsieur, " Jefferson replied, "I succeed him. No one could replacehim. " And that answer had more truth than wit. Honors came to Franklin such as no other American has ever received, buthe remained from first to last the same quiet, deep-hearted, andunselfish man, whose chief motive was the promotion of human welfare. Hehad his faults and made his mistakes; but time has sloughed them allaway, and there are few sources of inspiration which can compare withthe study of his life. * * * * * No family has loomed larger in American affairs than the Adams family ofMassachusetts. John Adams, President himself and living to see his ownson President--an experience which, probably no other man will everenjoy--had a second cousin who played a much more important part than hedid in securing the independence of the United States. His name wasSamuel Adams, and when he graduated from Harvard in 1740, at the age ofeighteen, his thesis discussed the question, "Whether it be lawful toresist the supreme magistrate if the commonwealth cannot otherwise bepreserved, " and answered it in the affirmative. Samuel Adams was a silent, stern and deeply religious man, something ofa dreamer, a bad manager and constantly in debt; but he was perhaps thefirst in America to conceive the idea of absolute independence fromGreat Britain, and he worked for this end unceasingly and to goodpurpose. The wealthy John Hancock was one of his converts, and it waspartly to warn these two of the troops sent out to capture them thatPaul Revere took that famous ride to Lexington on the night of April 18, 1775. A month later, when General Gage offered amnesty to all therebels, Hancock and Adams were especially excepted. It was Samuel Adams who, perceiving that Virginia was apt to be lukewarmin aiding a war which was to be fought mostly in the North, suggestedthe appointment of Virginia's favorite son, George Washington, ascommander-in-chief of the American army, and who seconded the motion tothat effect made by John Adams. He lived to see his dream ofindependence realized, and his grave in the old Granary burying groundat Boston is one of the pilgrimage places of America. With his name that of John Hancock is, as we have seen, closelyassociated. The worldly circumstances of the two were very different, for Samuel Adams was always poor, while John Hancock had fallen heir toone of the greatest fortunes in New England. He was only twenty-seven atthe time, and his fortune made a fool of him, as sudden wealth has a wayof doing. It was at this time, being young and impressionable, he metSamuel Adams, a silent and reserved man, fifteen years his senior andregarded by his neighbors as a harmless crank. But there was somethingabout him which touched Hancock's imagination--and touched hispocketbook, too, for about the first thing Adams did was to borrow moneyfrom him. Hancock was no doubt glad to lend the money, for he had more than heknew what to do with, and spent it in such a lavish manner that he wassoon one of the most popular men in Boston. So when one of his ships wasseized for smuggling in a cargo of wine, all his friends and employeesgot together and paraded the streets, and a lot of boys and loafersjoined them, for drink was flowing freely, and pretty soon there was ariot, and the troops were called out and fired a volley and killed fivemen, and the rest of the mob decided that it was time to go home, andwent. And that was the Boston massacre about which you have heard somuch that it would almost seem to rank with that of St. Bartholomew. But, as the Irishman remarked, the man who gets his finger pinched makesa lot more racket than the one who gets his head cut off; and the Bostonmassacre, for all the hullabaloo that was raised about it, was merelyan insignificant street riot. No doubt Samuel Adams did his full sharein fanning that little spark into a conflagration! For Adams had acquired great influence over Hancock, and that vapidyoung man was fond of being seen in the company of the older one. Adamswas anxious to secure Hancock for the revolutionary cause, and soon hadhim so hopelessly entangled that there was no escape for him. On theanniversary of the Boston massacre, he persuaded Hancock to deliver arevolutionary speech, which he had himself prepared, and after thatthere was a British order out for Hancock's arrest; Adams contrived thatHancock should be one of the three delegates from Massachusetts to theContinental Congress--John and Samuel Adams were the other two--andHancock was deeply impressed by the honor; at the second Congress, Adamssaw to it that his friend was chosen President. In consequence, Hancockwas the first signer of the Declaration of Independence, the incidentwhich is the best known in his career. He signed the document in greatsprawly letters, remarking grandiloquently, as he did so, "I guess KingGeorge can read that without spectacles, " and for many years, "JohnHancock" was the synonym for a bold signature. He was afterwardsgovernor of Massachusetts for more than a decade, and on one occasionattempted to snub Washington, with very poor success. His body lies inthe old Granary burying-ground, only a step from that of Samuel Adams. * * * * * One day, while Thomas Jefferson was a student at William and MaryCollege, at Williamsburg, a young friend named Patrick Henry dropped into see him, and announced that he had come to Williamsburg to beadmitted to the bar. "How long have you studied law?" Jefferson inquired. "Oh, for over six weeks, " Henry answered. The story goes that Jefferson advised his friend to go home and studyfor at least a fortnight longer; but Henry declared that the only way tolearn law was to practice it, and went ahead and took the examination, such as it was, and passed! That was in 1760, and Patrick Henry was twenty-four years old at thetime. He had been a wild boy, cared little for books, and had failed asa farmer and as a merchant before turning to law as a last resort. Noras a lawyer was he a great success, the truth being that he lacked theindustry and diligence which are essential to success in any profession;but he had one supreme gift, that of lofty and impassioned oratory. In1765, as a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses, he made therafters ring and his auditors turn pale by his famous speech against thestamp act; as a delegate to the Continental Congress in 1774, he madethe only real speech of the Congress, arousing the delegates from anattitude of mutual suspicion to one of patriotic ardor for a commoncause. "Government, " said he, "is dissolved. Where are your landmarks, yourboundaries of colonies? The distinctions between Virginians, Pennsylvanians, New Yorkers, and New Englanders are no more. I am not aVirginian, but an American. " Samuel Adams said afterwards that, but for that speech, which drew thedelegates together and made them forget their differences, the Congresswould probably have ended in a wrangle. And a year later, again inVirginia, in defense of his resolution to arm the militia, he gaveutterance to the most famous speech of all, starting quietly with thesentence, "Mr. President, it is natural for man to indulge in theillusions of hope, " and ending with the tremendous cry: "I know not whatcourse others may take, but as for me, give me liberty, or give medeath!" That was the supreme moment of Patrick Henry's life. He did a great workafter that, as member of the Continental Congress, as commander-in-chiefof the Virginia forces, and as governor of the Commonwealth, but neveragain did he come so near the stars--as, indeed, few men ever do. * * * * * You have all heard the story of Damon and Pythias, true type of devotedfriendship, and history abounds in such examples; but sometimes it showsa darker side, and the controlling force in two men's lives will be hateinstead of love, and the end will be shipwreck and tragedy. Such a storywe are to tell briefly here of the lives of Alexander Hamilton andAaron Burr. They were born a year apart. Burr in 1756, at Newark, New Jersey;Hamilton, in 1757, on the little West Indian island of Nevis. Burr wasof a distinguished ancestry, his grandfather being the famous JonathanEdwards; Hamilton's father was an obscure planter whose first name hasbeen lost to history. Burr graduated at Princeton, entered the army, rose to the rank of lieutenant-colonel, and resigned in 1777 to studylaw, being admitted to the New York bar five years later. Hamilton wassent to New York, entered King's, now Columbia, College, got caught inthe rising tide of Revolution, proved himself uncommonly ready withtongue and pen, enlisted, saw the battles of Long Island, Trenton, andPrinceton, was appointed aide-de-camp to Washington and acted as hissecretary, filling the post admirably, but resigned in a fit of piqueover a fancied slight, and repaired to New York to study law. Such, inoutline, is the history of these two men until Fate threw them in eachother's way. New York City was the arena where the battle was fought. Within a fewyears, Hamilton and Burr were the most famous men in the town. Theyresembled each other strongly in temperament and disposition; each was"passionate, brooking no rivalry; ambitious, faltering at no obstacle;proud with a fiery and aggressive pride; eloquent with the quick wit, the natural vivacity, and the lofty certainty of the true orator. " Theywere too nearly alike to be friends; they became instinctive enemies. Each felt that the other was in the way. For sixteen years, Burr practiced law in New York, growing steadily ininfluence. For five of those years, Hamilton did the same. They were theforemost lawyers in the city. No man could stand before them, and whenthey met on opposite sides of a case, it was, indeed, a meeting ofgiants. But in 1789, Washington appointed Hamilton his secretary of thetreasury, and leaving New York, Hamilton applied himself to the greattask of establishing the public credit, laying the basis for thefinancial system of the nation, which endures until this day. It was asplendid task, splendidly performed, and Hamilton emerged from it theleader of the powerful Federal party. In 1800, two men were candidates for the presidency. One was ThomasJefferson and the other was Aaron Burr. Instead of being overwhelmed bythe great Virginian, Burr received an equal number of electoral votes, and the contest was referred to Congress for decision. As a Federalist, Burr felt that he should have Hamilton's support, but Hamilton used hisgreat influence against him, stigmatizing him as "a dangerous man, " andJefferson was elected. Four years later, Burr was a candidate forgovernor of New York, and again Hamilton openly, bitterly, andsuccessfully opposed him, again speaking of him as "a dangerous man. " Smarting under the sting of this second defeat, Burr sent a note toHamilton asking if the expression, "a dangerous man, " referred to himpolitically or personally. Hamilton sent a sneering reply, and expressedhimself as willing to abide by the consequences. It was "fightinglanguage between fighting men"--a quarrel which Hamilton had beenseeking for five years and which he had done everything in his power toprovoke--and Burr promptly sent a challenge. Hamilton as promptlyaccepted it, named pistols at ten paces as the weapons, and at seveno'clock on the morning of July 11, 1804, the two men faced each other onthe heights of Weehawken, overlooking New York bay. Both fired at theword; Burr's bullet passed through Hamilton's body; Hamilton's cut atwig above Burr's head. Hamilton died next day, and Burr, his politicalcareer at an end, buried himself in the West. Three years later, he was arrested, charged with treason, for attemptingto found an independent state within the borders of the Union. He had awild dream of establishing a great empire to the west of theMississippi, and had collected arms and men for the expedition, and wason his way down the Mississippi when he was arrested and taken back toRichmond for trial. But his plan could not be proved to be treasonable;indeed, his arrest was due more to the animosity which Jefferson felttoward him, than from any other cause, and, brought to trial a yearlater, he was acquitted. But his reputation was ruined, there was nohope for him in public life, and his remaining years were spent quietlyin the practice of his profession, partly abroad and partly in NewYork. It has been too much the habit to picture Burr as a thoroughgoingscoundrel who murdered an innocent man and conspired against hiscountry. As a matter of fact, he did neither. Of the charge of treasonhe was acquitted, even at a time when public feeling ran high againsthim, and in the quarrel with Hamilton, it was Hamilton who was at alltimes the aggressor. Both were brilliant, accomplished and courtlymen--even, perhaps, men of genius--but Fate spread a net for their feet, blindly they stumbled into it, and, too proud to retrace their steps, pushed on to the tragic end. The presiding judge at Burr's trial, not the least of whose achievementswas the holding level of the scales of justice on that memorableoccasion, was the last of that great school of statesmen who had foughtfor their country's independence, and who had seen the states unitedunder a common Constitution. John Marshall lived well into thenineteenth century, and his great work was to interpret thatConstitution to the country, to give it the meaning which it has for usto-day. Marshall was a Virginian, was just of age at the outbreak of theRevolution, and served in the American army for five years, enlisting asa private and rising to the rank of captain. At the close of the war, hestudied law, gained a prominent place in the politics of his state, drewthe attention of Washington by his unusual ability, and in 1800 wasappointed by him secretary of state. A year later he was made chiefjustice of the Supreme Court--an appointment little less than inspiredin its wisdom. For thirty-four years, John Marshall occupied that exalted position, interpreting to the new country its organic law, and the decisionshanded down by him remain the standard authority on constitutionalquestions. In clearness of thought, breadth of view, and strength oflogic they have never been surpassed. His service to his country was ofincalculable value, for he built for the national government a firm, foundation which has stood unshaken through the years. * * * * * So we come to a new era in American history--an era marked by unexampledbitterness of feeling and culminating in the great struggle for thepreservation of the Union. Across this era, three mighty giants casttheir shadows--Henry Clay and Daniel Webster and John C. Calhoun. Closely and curiously intertwined were the destinies of these three men, Clay was born in 1777; Webster and Calhoun five years later. Calhoun andClay were Irishmen and hated England; Webster was a Scotchman, andScotchmen were usually Tories. Calhoun and Clay were southerners, butwith a difference, for Calhoun was born in the very sanctum sanctorum ofthe South, South Carolina, while Clay's life was spent in the borderstate of Kentucky, so removed from the South that it did not secede fromthe Union. Webster was a product of Massachusetts. Calhoun and Websterwere, in temperament and belief, as far apart as the poles; Clay stoodbetween them, "the great compromiser. " Calhoun and Webster were greaterthan Clay, for they possessed a larger genius and a broader culture; andWebster was a greater man than Calhoun, because he possessed the truervision. Calhoun died in 1850; Clay and Webster in 1852. For the fortyyears previous to that, these three men were in every way the mostfamous and conspicuous in America. Others flashed, meteor-like, into abrief brilliance; but these three burned steady as the stars. They hadno real rivals. And yet, though each of them was consumed by an ambitionto be President, not one was able to realize that ambition, and theirlast years were embittered by defeat. As has been said, Clay was the smallest man of the three. His reputationrests, not upon constructive statesmanship, but upon his ability as aparty leader, in which respect he has had few equals in Americanhistory, and upon his success in proposing compromises. Born inVirginia, and admitted to the bar in 1797, he moved the same year toLexington, Kentucky, where his practice brought him rapid and brilliantsuccess. His personality, too, won him many friends, and it was so allhis life. "To come within reach of the snare of his speech was to lovehim, " and even to this day Kentucky believes that no statesman everlived who equalled this adopted son of hers, nor doubts the entiresincerity of his famous boast that he would rather be right thanPresident. Of course he got into politics. That was his natural and inevitablefield. As early as 1806 he was sent to the Senate, and afterwards to theHouse, of which he was speaker for thirteen years. Three times was he acandidate for the presidency, defeated once by John Quincy Adams, onceby Andrew Jackson, and once, when victory seemed almost his, by WilliamHenry Harrison. That other great party leader, James G. Blaine, was tomeet a similar fate years later. Henry Clay lacked the deep foresight, the prophetic intuition necessary to statesmanship of the first rank, and some of the achievements which he considered the greatest of hislife were in reality blunders which had afterwards to be corrected. Butas a compromiser, as a rider of troubled waters, and a pilot at a timewhen shipwreck seemed imminent and unavoidable, he proved his consummateability, and merits the gratitude of his country. Henry Clay and Daniel Webster were leaders in the same great party, andwere, for the most part, personal friends as well as political allies. But Webster overshadowed Clay in intellect, however he may have beenoutdistanced by him in political astuteness. If Clay were the fox, Webster was the lion. As a constitutional lawyer, he has never beenexcelled; as an orator, no other American has ever equalled him. He hadin supreme degree the orator's equipment of a dominant and impressivepersonality, a moving voice, an eloquent countenance, and a command ofwords little less than inspired. The last sentences of his reply toHayne have come ringing down the years, and stand unequalled as sheereloquence: "When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured, bearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as 'What is all this worth'? nor those other words of delusion and folly, 'Liberty first and Union afterwards'; but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart--Liberty _and_ Union, now and forever, one and inseparable!" The great audience that listened spellbound to that oration, arose andleft the Capitol like persons in a dream. Never were they to forget theeffect of that tremendous speech. But the last years of his life were ruined by his ambition to bePresident. In spite of his commanding talents, or, perhaps, because ofthem, he never at any time had a chance of receiving the nomination ofhis party, and his final defeat in 1852, by Winfield Scott, practicallykilled him. [Illustration: WEBSTER] Webster was the son of a New Hampshire farmer, who managed to send himto Dartmouth College, from which he graduated in 1801. Four years laterhe was admitted to the bar at Boston, and in 1812 he was elected toCongress. We find him at once violently opposing the second war withEngland, for which Clay was working so aggressively. For ten years afterthat, he devoted himself to the practice of his profession, and soonbecame the foremost lawyer of New England, especially on constitutionalquestions. In 1823, he was again sent to Congress; entered the Senate in1828, and remained in public life practically until his death. It was in 1830 that he delivered the speech already referred to--perhapsthe most remarkable ever heard within the walls of the Capitol. SenatorHayne, of South Carolina, had made a remarkable address, lasting twodays, advocating the right of a state to render null and void anunconstitutional law of Congress--in other words, the right of secessionfrom the Union. Two days later, Webster rose to reply. His appearance, always impressive, was unusually so that day; his argument, alwaysclose-knit and logical, was the very summation of these qualities; hiswords seemed edged with fire as he argued that the Constitution issupreme, the Union indissoluble, and that no state has, or can have theright to resist or nullify a national law. It was the greatest orationof America's greatest orator. Of its effect upon the people who heard it we have spoken; throughoutthe country it produced a profound impression. The North felt that a newprophet had arisen; the South, a new foeman. The great advocate ofnullification, however, was not Hayne, who would be scarcely rememberedto-day but for the fact that it was to him Webster addressed his reply, but that formidable giant of a man, John C. Calhoun--the man whom theSouth felt to be her peculiar representative on the question of staterights, of nullification, and, at last, of slavery. His fate was one ofthe saddest in American history, for the cause he fought for was adoomed cause, and as he sank into his grave, he saw tottering down uponhim the great structure which he had devoted his whole life toupholding. Not much is known of Calhoun's youth. He was the grandson of an Irishimmigrant who had settled in South Carolina, graduated from Yale in1804, studied law, was admitted to the bar, and, returning to his nativestate, was, in 1811, elected a member of Congress. That was thebeginning of a public career which was to last until his death. Almost from the first, he was consumed with an ambition to be President, and perhaps would have been, but for an incident so trivial that, underordinary circumstances, it would have had no consequences. In 1818, asMonroe's secretary of war, Calhoun had occasion at a cabinet meeting toexpress some censure of Andrew Jackson's conduct of the Seminole war--acensure which was deserved, since Jackson had violated the law ofnations in pursuing his enemy into a foreign country. Twelve yearslater, when Jackson was President and Calhoun, as Vice-President, was indirect line of succession, so to speak, Jackson heard of Calhoun'sremarks, flew into a violent rage, came out as Calhoun's declared enemy, and dealt the death-blow to his presidential aspirations. Smarting from this injustice, Calhoun turned his attention to thequestion of state sovereignty, and in February, 1833, South Carolinapassed the nullification ordinance to which we have already referred. Calhoun at once resigned the vice-presidency and took his seat in theSenate, prepared to defend the attitude of his state. But Jackson didnot wait for that. Seeing that here was an opportunity to strike hisenemy, he ordered troops to South Carolina, and threatened to hangCalhoun as high as Haman--a threat which he very possibly would haveattempted to carry out had not hostilities been averted by the geniusfor compromise of Henry Clay. From that time forward, Calhoun became thehigh priest of the doctrine of state rights and the great defender ofslavery. He fought inch by inch the growing sentiment against it; heknew it was a losing fight, and almost the last words uttered by hisdying lips were, "The South! The poor South! God knows what will becomeof her!" * * * * * The great triumvirate left no successors to compare with them inprestige or power. Two survivals from the war of 1812 were still on thescene, Thomas Hart Benton and Lewis Cass. Benton was a North Carolinaman who had removed to Nashville, and at the outbreak of the war, enlisted under Andrew Jackson, and got into a disgraceful street fightwith him, in the course of which Jackson was nearly killed. Strange tosay, that doughty old hero chose to forget the matter long yearsafterwards, when Benton was in the Senate--a Union senator from theslave state of Missouri. Cass also served through the war, but at the North; was involved inHull's surrender of Detroit and broke his sword in rage at the disgraceof it; and was afterwards governor of Michigan and Jackson's secretaryof war; then, in 1848, Democratic nominee for President and defeatedbecause of Martin Van Buren's disaffection; finally, in 1857, Buchanan'ssecretary of state, resigning, in 1860, because that shilly-shallyPresident could not make up his mind to send reinforcements to BobAnderson at Fort Sumter, in Charleston harbor. A man who played manyparts, filled many positions, and filled them well, Cass's name deservesto be more widely remembered than it is. In those days, a strange, pompous and ineffective figure was flittingacross the stage, impressing men with a respect and significance whichit did not possess, its name, Stephen A. Douglas, nicknamed "The LittleGiant, " but giant in little else than power to create disturbance. Perhaps no other man ever possessed that power in quite the same degree;nor possessed in a greater degree that fascination of personality whichmakes friends and gains adherents. Consumed by a gnawing desire of the presidency, beaten for thenomination in 1852, destroying the serenity of the land two years laterby contending that Congress had no right to limit slavery in theterritories, in the vain hope of winning southern support, but findinghimself instead dubbed traitor and Judas Iscariot, receiving thirtypieces of silver from a club of Ohio women, travelling from Boston toChicago "by the light of his own effigies, " which yelling crowds wereburning at the stake, and finally hooted off the stage in his own city, certainly it would seem that Douglas's public career was over forever. But he managed to live down his blunder and to regain much of his oldstrength by reason of his winning personality; yet made another blunderwhen he agreed to meet Abraham Lincoln in debate--and one which cost himthe presidency. For his opponent drove him into corners from which hecould find no way out except at the risk of offending the South. Inthose days, one had to be either for or against slavery; there was nomiddle course, and the man who attempted to find one, fell between twostools, as Douglas himself soon learned. Last scene of all, pitted against that same Abraham Lincoln who hadgreased the plank for him and shorn him of his southern support, in thepresidential contest of 1860, defeated and wounded to death by it, forhe knew that never again would he be within sight of that long-soughtprize; yet rising nobly at the last to a height of purest patriotism, declaring for the Union, pledging his support to Lincoln, pointing theway of duty to his million followers, and destroying at a blow theSouth's hope of a divided North--let us do Stephen A. Douglas, thatjustice, and render him that meed of praise; for whatever the mistakesand turnings and evasions of his career, that last great work of hisoutweighed them all. A man who had a great reputation in his own day as an orator andstatesman, but whose polished periods appeal less and less to succeedinggenerations was Edward Everett--an evidence, perhaps, that the headalone can never win lasting fame. Everett was a New Englander; a Harvardman, graduating with the highest honors; and two years later, pastor ofa Unitarian church in Boston. There his eloquence soon attractedattention, and won him a wide reputation. At the age of twenty-one, hewas appointed professor of Greek at Harvard; and in 1824, at the age ofthirty, he was chosen to represent the Boston district in Congress. Heremained there for ten years, served four terms as governor ofMassachusetts, was ambassador to England, and then, president of Harvardfrom 1846-1849; was appointed secretary of state on the death of DanielWebster in 1852; and finally, in the following year, was elected to theSenate, but was soon forced to resign on account of ill-health. Soon afterwards, he threw himself into the project to purchase MountVernon by private subscription, delivered his oration on Washington 122times, netting more than $58, 000 toward the project; obtained another$10, 000 from the _Public Ledger_ by writing for it a weekly article forthe period of a year, and added $3, 000 more, secured from the readers ofthat paper. From that time on, he delivered various lectures forphilanthropic causes, the receipts aggregating nearly a hundred thousanddollars. They are little read to-day because, in spite of his erudition, polish and high attainments, Everett really had no new message todeliver. * * * * * With the coming of the Civil War, another triumvirate emerges to controlthe destinies of the nation--Thaddeus Stevens, Charles Sumner andWilliam Henry Seward. Stevens and Seward had been introduced to politicsby the ineffectual and absurd anti-Masonic party, which flitted acrossthe stage in the early thirties. In 1851, Massachusetts rebuked DanielWebster for his supposed surrender to the slavery party, made in hope ofattaining the presidency, by placing Sumner in his seat in the Senate, and retiring him to private life, where he still remained the mostcommanding figure in the country. Seward was already in the Senate, had spoken in reply to Webster, andassumed the leadership which Webster forfeited. In the House, too, wasStevens, who soon gained prominence by a certain vitriolic force whichwas in him, and these three men labored unceasingly for the defeat ofthe South--indeed, for more than its defeat--for payment, to the lastdrop, for the sins it had committed. They were bound together by partyties and in other ways, but most closely of all by a hatred of slavery, which, with Stevens and Sumner, mounted at times to fanaticism and ledthem into the errors always awaiting the fanatic. Thaddeus Stevens, the oldest of the three, had been born in Vermont, butremoved to Pennsylvania at the age of twenty-two, and began to practicelaw there. In 1831, he was one of the moving spirits in the formation ofthe anti-Masonic party, which fancied it saw, in the spread of Masonry, a grave danger to the republic. Two years later, Stevens was chosen amember of the Pennsylvania legislature, but his career did not reallybegin until, in 1848, at the age of fifty-seven, he was elected a memberof the national House of Representatives, where he soon took his placeas the leader of the anti-slavery faction. From that time forward, hewas unceasing in his warfare against slavery, frequently going tolengths where few cared to follow, and which would seem to indicate thatthere was a trace of madness in the man. He developed an exaggerated andsentimental regard for the negro, and grew radical and relentless towardthe South. At the close of the war, he regarded the southern states as conqueredterritory, to be treated as such, and his ideas of treatment seem tohave been founded upon those of the Middle Ages. He wished to confiscatethe property of all Confederates; endeavored to impeach PresidentJohnson, who was trying to enforce a system of reconstruction which wasat least better than that which Stevens advocated. For a time he seemedto suffer from a very vertigo of hatred, which ate into his soul anddestroyed him. The plan of reconstruction adopted by Congress was anembodiment of his ideas; but Johnson was acquitted of the chargesStevens brought against him, and Stevens's poison, as it were, turned inupon himself and killed him. His last request, that his body be buriedin an obscure private cemetery, because public cemeteries excludednegroes, shows the man's unbalanced condition, the length to which hisideas had led him. Charles Sumner, who was to the Senate much what Stevens was to theHouse, although a larger and better-balanced man, was a typicalBostonian and inheritor of the New England conscience, which, of course, meant that he was opposed through and through to slavery. He was asuccessful lawyer, and as his sentiments were well known, he was chosento succeed Webster when the latter wavered on the anti-slavery question, and threw some pledges of assistance to the South. There was never anydoubt about Sumner's position, no sign of wavering or coquetting withthe enemy, and in 1856, he was assaulted by a southern senator and soseverely injured that three years passed before he could resume hisseat. He did so in time to oppose any compromise with slavery or the slavepower, which the threatening attitude of the South had almost scared theNorth into considering, and urged the immediate emancipation of theslaves. When this had been accomplished, his first thought was to makesure that the slaves would remain free, and he began the contest fornegro suffrage, as the only guarantee of negro freedom, which he finallywon. In the reconstruction period following the war, he was inevitablyan ally of Thaddeus Stevens, though the latter far surpassed him invindictiveness toward the South. Let us not forget that the South had shown itself blind to its owninterests when, as soon as reconstructed by Andrew Johnson, it had, state by state, adopted laws virtually enslaving the black man again. But for this fatuity, there would probably have been no such feeling ofvindictiveness at the North as soon developed there; certainly therewould have been no excuse for such severity as was afterwards exhibited. So it is true in a sense that the South has itself to blame for thehorrors of the reconstruction period, and for the suspicion with whichits good faith toward the negro was for many years regarded. Sumner wasnot a vindictive man, and in his last years, incurred a vote of censurefrom his own State for offering a bill to remove the names of battles ofthe Civil War from the Army Register and from the regimental colors ofthe United States. He practically died in harness in 1874. Looking backat him, one sees how much larger he looms than Stevens; one cannot butadmire his courage and honesty of purpose; his public life was acontinual struggle for the right, as he saw it, and, remembering that, his faults need not trouble us. When Sumner arrived in the Senate, he found William H. Seward, of NewYork, already there. Seward, who had been admitted to the bar in 1822, at the age of twenty-one, was carried into the New York legislature bythe anti-Masonic wave of 1830. Eight years later, he was the Whiggovernor of the state, and in 1849 was sent to the Senate. There he soonrivetted attention by his rebuke of Webster for condoning the FugitiveSlave Law, and caught the reins of party leadership as they fell fromWebster's hands. It was then that he made his famous statement that thewar against slavery was waged under a "higher law than theConstitution, " and that the fall of slavery was inevitable. In 1856, when the newly-formed anti-slavery party, known as theRepublican, met to name a national ticket, Seward was the logicalcandidate, but refused to allow his name to be considered, and thechoice fell upon that brilliant adventurer, John C. Frémont. Frémontwas, of course, defeated, and Seward continued to be the leader ofRepublican thought, and the chief originator of Republican doctrine. Indeed, he was, in a sense, the Republican party, so that, four yearslater, he seemed not only the logical but the inevitable choice of theparty for President. His most formidable opponent was Abraham Lincoln, of Illinois, who had been carefully working for the nomination, and whowas blessed with the shrewdest of campaign managers. Seward led on thefirst ballot, and would have won but for the expert trading alreadyreferred to in the story of Lincoln's nomination. It was natural that Lincoln should offer him the state portfolio, andSeward accepted it. From first to last, he held true to the President, and the services he rendered the country were second only to those ofLincoln himself. When Lincoln was killed, an attempt was also made tomurder Seward, and was very nearly successful--so nearly that for daysSeward lingered between life and death. He recovered, however, to resumehis place in Johnson's cabinet. Over the new President he had greatinfluence; he had long been an advocate of mercy toward the South, andhe did much to persuade the President to the course he followed inrestoring the southern states to the Union, without reference to thewishes of Congress. Even John Sherman pronounced the plan "wise andjudicious, " but Stevens, Sumner, and their powerful coterie in Congressviolently opposed it, and Seward came in for his share of thevituperation and bitter accusation which the plan called forth. Johnson's defeat closed his political career, and the last years of hislife were spent in travel. The very cause of his downfall marks him as the greatest of the three, for he placed justice above expediency, and not even the attempt uponhis life changed his feeling toward the South. Perhaps the wisdom of hisjudgment was never better exemplified than in his purchase from Russiaof the great territory known as Alaska, for the sum of $7, 200, 000. Alaska was regarded at the time as an icy desert of no economic value, but time has changed that estimate, and the discovery of gold there madeit one of the richest of the country's possessions. Outside of Seward, Sumner and Stevens, the most prominent public man ofthe time was Salmon P. Chase, an Ohioan who had for many years taken animportant part in the anti-slavery controversy. Although sent to theSenate in 1849 as a Democrat, he left the party on the nomination ofPierce in 1852, when it stood committed to the support and extension ofslavery. Three years later, he was elected governor of Ohio by theRepublicans. He was Lincoln's secretary of the treasury, and financedthe country during its most trying period in a way that compelled theadmiration even of his enemies. He served afterwards as Chief Justice ofthe Supreme Court, dying in 1873. He was another man whose life wasembittered by failure to attain the prize of the presidency. Three timeshe tried for it, in 1860, in 1864, and in 1868, but he never came withinmeasurable distance of it. For he lacked the capacity for makingfriends, and repelled rather than attracted by a studiously impressivedemeanor, a painful decorousness, and an unbending dignity, which was, of course, no true dignity at all, but merely a bad imitation of it. Ina word, he lacked the saving sense of humor--the quality which endearedAbraham Lincoln to the whole nation. Another Ohioan who loomed large in the history of the time was JohnSherman, a lawyer like all the rest, a member of Congress since 1855, not at first a great opponent of slavery, but drawn into the battle byhis allegiance to the Republican party, forming an alliance withThaddeus Stevens, and collaborating with him in the production of thereconstruction act. He was appointed secretary of the treasury byPresident Hayes, in 1876, and his great work for the country was done inthat office, in re-establishing the credit which the Civil War hadshaken. He, also, was bitten by the presidential bacillus, and was acandidate for the nomination at three conventions, but each time fellshort of the goal--once when he had it seemingly within his grasp. Astern, forceful, capable man, he left his impress upon the times. * * * * * Of the men who guided the fortunes of the Confederacy, only two need bementioned here--Jefferson Davis and Alexander H. Stephens; for, rich asthe Confederacy was in generals, it was undeniably poor in statesmen. The golden age of the South had departed; with John C. Calhoun passedaway the last really commanding figure among Dixie's statesmen, and fromhim to Jefferson Davis is a long step downward. Davis's early life was romantic enough. Born in 1808 in Kentucky, of afather who had served in the Revolution, appointed to the NationalMilitary Academy by President Monroe; graduating there in 1828 andserving through the Black Hawk war; then abruptly resigning from thearmy to elope with the daughter of Colonel Zachary Taylor, and settlingnear Vicksburg, Mississippi, to embark in cotton planting; drawnirresistibly into politics and sent to Congress, but resigning to acceptcommand of the First Mississippi Rifles and serving with greatdistinction through the war with Mexico; and, finally, in 1847, sent tothe Senate--such was Davis's history up to the time he became involvedin the maelstrom of the slavery question. From the first, he was an ardent advocate of the state-rights theory ofgovernment, and the right of secession, and for thirteen years hedefended these theories in the Senate, gradually emerging as the mostcapable advocate the South possessed. That fiery and impulsive people, looking always for a hero to worship, found one in Jefferson Davis, andhe soon gained an immense prestige among them. On January 9, 1861, hisstate seceded from the Union, and he withdrew from the Senate. Before hereached home, he was elected commander-in-chief of the Army of theMississippi, and a few days later, he was chosen President of theConfederate States. From the first, his task was a difficult one, and it grew increasinglyso as the war went on. That he performed it well, there can be noquestion. He was the government, was practically dictator, for hedominated the Confederate Congress absolutely, and its principalbusiness was to pass the laws which he prepared. Only toward the closeof the war did it, in a measure, free itself from this control, and, finally, in 1865, it passed a resolution attributing Confederatedisaster to Davis's incompetency as commander-in-chief, a position whichhe had insisted on occupying; removing him from that position andconferring it upon General Lee, giving the latter, at the same time, unlimited powers in disposing of the army. But it was too late. Even Lee himself could not ward off the inevitable. On the morning of Sunday, April 2, 1865, Jefferson Davis sat in his pewat church in the city of Richmond, when an officer handed him atelegram. It was from Lee, and read, "Richmond must be evacuated thisevening, " Lee had fought and lost the battle of Petersburg, and was infull retreat. Davis left the church quietly, called his cabinettogether, packed up the government archives, and boarded a train for theSouth. For over a month, he moved from place to place endeavoring toescape capture, his party melting away until it comprised only hisfamily and a few servants; and finally, on May 9th, he was surprised andtaken by a company of Union cavalry near Irwinsville, in southernGeorgia. Davis was imprisoned at Fortress Monroe for two years--athoroughly senseless procedure which only served to keep open a painfulwound--and on Christmas Day, 1868, was pardoned by President Johnson. Davis's imprisonment had added immensely to his prestige. The Southforgot his blunders and short-comings, seeing in him only the martyr whohad suffered for his people, and welcomed him with a kind of hystericaladoration, which lasted until his death. The last years of his life werepassed quietly on his estate in Mississippi. When Davis was chosen President of the Confederacy, Alexander H. Stephens was chosen Vice-President. Stephens had also had a picturesquecareer. Left an orphan, without means, at the age of fifteen he hadnevertheless secured an education, and, in 1834, after two months'study, was admitted to the Georgia bar. He at once began to win a morethan local reputation, for he was a man of unusual ability, and in 1836, he was elected to the Legislature, though an avowed opponent ofnullification. Seven years later, he was sent to Congress, and continued to oppose thesecession movement; but he saw whither things were trending, and in 1859he resigned from Congress, remarking that he knew there was going to bea smash-up and thought he would better get off while there was time. In1860 he made a great Union speech; and it is a remarkable proof of thehold he had upon the people of the South, that, in spite of this, and ofhis well-known convictions, he was chosen Vice-President of theConfederacy a year later. He accepted, but within a year he hadquarrelled with Jefferson Davis on the question of state rights, and in1864, organized the Georgia Peace party. From that time on to the closeof the war, he labored to bring about a treaty of peace, but in vain. He was imprisoned for a few months after the downfall of theConfederacy, but was soon released and was prominent in the politicallife of Georgia for fifteen years thereafter, being governor of thestate at the time of his death in 1883. A more contradictory, obstinate, prickly-conscienced man never appeared in American politics. * * * * * So passed the era of the Civil War. Have we had any great statesmensince? Some near-great ones, perhaps, but none of the very first rank. Great men are moulded by great events, or, at least, require greatevents to prove their greatness. Let us pause a moment, however, to paytribute to one of the most accomplished party leaders in Americanhistory--a man almost to rank with Henry Clay--James G. Blaine. As a young editor from Maine, he had entered Congress in 1863. There hehad encountered another fiery youngster in Roscoe Conkling, and anintense rivalry sprang up between them. They were very different intemperament, Blaine being the more popular, Conkling the more brilliant. Blaine had a genius for making friends and keeping them; Conkling'squick temper and hasty tongue frequently cost him his most powerfuladherents. Three years later, this rivalry came to an open clash, inwhich each denounced the other on the floor of the House in words asstinging as parliamentary law permitted. Blaine's tirade was so bitterthat Conkling became an implacable enemy and never again spoke to him. It was almost the story of Hamilton and Burr over again, except that theage of duelling had passed. That quarrel on the floor of the House was to have momentousconsequences. Blaine became speaker of the House and the most popularand powerful man in his party, so that it seemed that nothing couldstand between him and the desire for the presidency which gnawed at hisheart, just as it had at Henry Clay's. But always in the way stoodConkling. In 1876, at Cincinnati, Blaine was nominated by Robert G. Ingersoll inone of the most eloquent addresses ever delivered on the floor of anational convention, and on the first ballot fell only a few votes shortof a majority. But his enemies were at work, and on the seventh ballot, succeeded in stampeding the convention to Rutherford B. Hayes. Hayes, however, was pledged to a single term, and Blaine was hailed as thenominee in 1880; but when the convention assembled, there was Conklingwith a solid phalanx of over three hundred delegates for Grant. Theresult was that neither Blaine nor Grant could get a majority of thevotes, and the nomination fell to Garfield. Finally, by tireless work, Blaine laid his plans so well that he secured the nomination four yearslater, only to have New York State thrown against him by Conkling and togo down to defeat. Conkling had his revenge, and Blaine's career waspractically at an end, for he was an old and broken man. Let us add frankly that there were many within his own party whomistrusted him--who believed him insincere, if not actually dishonest, and refused to support him. For a fourth time, in 1892, he attempted toget the nomination, but his name had lost its wizardry, and he wasdefeated by Benjamin Harrison. There are few more pitiful stories inAmerican politics than that of this brilliant and able man, consumed bythe desire for a great prize which seemed always within his grasp andyet which always eluded him. For a quarter of a century, he chased thiswill-o'-the-wisp, only to be led by it into a bog and left to perishthere. There are a few names on the later pages of American statesmanship whichstand for notable achievement, more especially in the line of diplomacy, the two greatest of which are those of John Hay and Elihu Root. Both ofthese men, as secretary of state, did memorable work; not the sort ofwork which appeals to popular imagination, for there was nothingspectacular about it; but quiet and effective work in the forming ofinformal alliances and treaties with foreign nations, maintainingAmerica's position as a world power, and making her the friend of allthe world. That is the position she should occupy, since she has noquarrel with any one; and it is with its maintenance that thestatesmanship of the present day is principally concerned. * * * * * So we close this chapter on American Statesmen. It is a tragicchapter--tragic because of thwarted ambitions, and unfulfilled desires. Of them all, Benjamin Franklin was the only one whose life was fromfirst to last happy and contented, who realized his ideals and who diedin peace; and this, I think, because he asked nothing for himself, hungered for no preferment, was consumed by no ambition, sacrificednothing to expediency, but accepted life with large philosophy andnever-failing humor, realizing that in serving others he was bestserving himself, and whose inward peace was manifest in his placid andsmiling countenance. Upon the rocks of ambition the greatest of thosewho followed him dashed themselves to pieces. SUMMARY FRANKLIN, BENJAMIN. Born at Boston, January 17, 1706; established the_Pennsylvania Gazette_, 1729; founded Philadelphia library, 1731; beganpublication of "Poor Richard's Almanac, " 1732; postmaster ofPhiladelphia, 1737; founded American Philosophical Society andUniversity of Pennsylvania, 1743; demonstrated by means of a kite thatlightning is a discharge of electricity, 1752; deputy postmaster-generalfor British colonies in America, 1753-74; colonial agent forPennsylvania in England, 1757-75; elected to second ContinentalCongress, 1775; ambassador to France, 1776-85; negotiated treaty withFrance, February 6, 1778; concluded treaty of peace with England, inconjunction with Jay and Adams, September 3, 1783; returned to America, 1785; President of Pennsylvania, 1785-88; delegate to ConstitutionalConvention, 1787; died at Philadelphia, April 17, 1790. ADAMS, SAMUEL. Born at Boston, September 27, 1722; delegate to first andsecond Continental Congress, 1775-76; lieutenant-governor ofMassachusetts, 1789-94; governor of Massachusetts, 1794-97; died atBoston, October 2, 1803. HANCOCK, JOHN. Born at Quincy, Massachusetts, January 12, 1837;President of the Provincial Congress, 1774-75; President of ContinentalCongress, 1775-77; governor of Massachusetts, 1780-85 and 1787-93; diedat Quincy, October 8, 1793. HENRY, PATRICK. Born at Studley, Hanover County, Virginia, May 20, 1736;admitted to the bar, 1760; entered Virginia House of Burgesses, 1765;member of Continental Congress, 1774; of Virginia Convention, 1775;governor of Virginia, 1776-79 and 1784-86; died at Red Hill, CharlotteCounty, Virginia, June 6, 1799. HAMILTON, ALEXANDER. Born in the island of Nevis, West Indies, January11, 1757; settled in New York, 1772; entered Continental service ascaptain of artillery, 1776; on Washington's staff, 1777-81; member ofContinental Congress, 1782-83; of the Constitutional Convention, 1787;secretary of the treasury, 1789-95; appointed commander-in-chief of thearmy, 1799; mortally wounded in a duel with Aaron Burr, July 11, 1804, and died the following day. BURR, AARON. Born at Newark, New Jersey, February 6, 1756; served withdistinction in the Canada expedition in 1775 and at Monmouth in 1778;began practice of law in New York, 1783; United States senator, 1791-97;Vice-President, 1801-05; killed Alexander Hamilton in a duel, July 11, 1804; in 1805, conceived plan of conquering Texas and perhaps Mexico andestablishing a great empire in the South-west; arrested in MississippiTerritory, January 14, 1807; indicted for treason at Richmond, Virginia, May 22, and acquitted, September 1, 1807; died at PortRichmond, Staten Island, September 14, 1836. MARSHALL, JOHN. Born in Fauquier County, Virginia, September 24, 1755;served in the Revolution; United States envoy to France, 1797-98; memberof Congress, 1799-1800; secretary of state, 1800-01; chief justice ofthe United States Supreme Court, 1801-35; died at Philadelphia, July 6, 1835. CLAY, HENRY. Born in Hanover County, near Richmond, Virginia, April 12, 1777; United States senator from Kentucky, 1806-07 and 1809-11; memberof Congress, 1811-21 and 1823-25; peace commissioner at Ghent, 1814;candidate for President, 1824; secretary of state, 1825-29; senator, 1832-42 and 1849-52; Whig candidate for President, 1832 and 1844; chiefdesigner of the "Missouri Compromise" of 1820, of the compromise of1850, and of the compromise tariff of 1832-33; died at Washington, June29, 1852. WEBSTER, DANIEL. Born at Salisbury, now Franklin, New Hampshire, January18, 1782; graduated at Dartmouth College, 1801; admitted to the bar atBoston, 1805; Federalist member of Congress from New Hampshire, 1813-17;removed to Boston, 1816; member of Congress from Massachusetts, 1823-27;Whig United States senator, 1827-41; received several electoral votesfor President, 1836, and unsuccessful candidate for Whig nominationuntil death; secretary of state, 1841-43; senator, 1845-50; secretary ofstate, 1850-52; died at Marshfield, Massachusetts, October 24, 1852. CALHOUN, JOHN CALDWELL. Born in Abbeville District, South Carolina, March 18, 1782; graduated at Yale, 1804; admitted to the bar, 1807;member of the South Carolina general assembly, 1808-09; member ofCongress, 1811-17; secretary of war in Monroe's cabinet, 1817-24;Vice-President, 1825-32; United States senator, 1832-43; secretary ofstate under Tyler, 1844-45; re-elected to the Senate of which heremained a member until his death, at Washington, March 31, 1850. BENTON, THOMAS HART. Born at Hillsborough, North Carolina, March 14, 1782; United States senator from Missouri, 1821-51; member of Congress, 1853-55; died at Washington, April 10, 1858. CASS, LEWIS. Born at Exeter, New Hampshire, October 9, 1782; served inthe second war with England; governor of Michigan Territory, 1813-31;secretary of war, 1831-36; minister to France, 1836-42; United Statessenator, 1845-48; Democratic candidate for President, 1848; senator, 1849-57; secretary of state, 1857-60; died at Detroit, Michigan, June17, 1866. DOUGLAS, STEPHEN ARNOLD. Born at Brandon, Vermont, April 23, 1813; judgeof the Supreme Court of Illinois, 1841; member of Congress, 1843-47;United States senator, 1847-61; Democratic candidate for President, 1860; died at Chicago, June 3, 1861. EVERETT, EDWARD. Born at Dorchester, Massachusetts, April 11, 1794;professor of Greek at Harvard, 1819-25; editor the _North AmericanReview_, 1819-24; member of Congress, 1825-35; governor ofMassachusetts, 1836-40; minister to England, 1841-45; president ofHarvard College, 1846-49; secretary of state, 1852-53; senator, 1853-54;candidate of Constitutional Union party for Vice-President, 1860; diedat Boston, January 15, 1865. STEVENS, THADDEUS. Born in Caledonia County, Vermont, April 4, 1792;graduated at Dartmouth College, 1814; removed to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and admitted to the bar, 1816; Whig member of Congress, 1849-53; Republican member of Congress, 1859-68; proposed impeachment ofPresident Johnson, 1868; died at Washington, April 11, 1868. SUMNER, CHARLES. Born at Boston, January 6, 1811; graduated at Harvard, 1830; admitted to the bar, 1834; United States senator, 1851-74;assaulted in Senate chamber by Preston Brooks, May 22, 1856; chairman ofcommittee on foreign affairs, 1861-71; died at Washington, March 11, 1874. SEWARD, WILLIAM HENRY. Born at Florida, Orange County, New York, May 16, 1801; graduated at Union College, 1820; admitted to the bar, 1822;member State Senate, 1830-34; Whig governor of New York, 1838-43; UnitedStates senator, 1849-61; candidate for Republican nomination forPresident, 1860; secretary of state, 1861-69; died at Auburn, New York, October 10, 1872. CHASE, SALMON PORTLAND. Born at Cornish, New Hampshire, January 13, 1808; United States senator from Ohio, 1849-55; governor of Ohio, 1856-60; secretary of the treasury, 1861-64; chief justice of theSupreme Court, 1864-73; died at New York City, May 7, 1873. SHERMAN, JOHN. Born at Lancaster, Ohio, May 10, 1823; admitted to thebar, 1844; Republican member of Congress from Ohio, 1855-61; senator, 1861-77; secretary of the treasury, 1877-81; senator, 1881-97;secretary of state, 1897-98; candidate for presidential nomination in1884 and 1888; died at Washington, October 22, 1900. DAVIS, JEFFERSON. Born in Christian County, Kentucky, June 3, 1808;graduated at West Point, 1828; Democratic member of Congress fromMississippi, 1845-46; served in Mexican war, 1846-47; United Statessenator, 1847-51; secretary of war, 1853-57; senator, 1857-61; resignedhis seat, January 21, 1861; inaugurated President of the Confederacy, February 22, 1862; arrested near Irwinsville, Georgia, May 10, 1865;imprisoned at Fortress Monroe, Virginia, 1865-67; amnestied, 1868; diedat New Orleans, December 6, 1889. STEPHENS, ALEXANDER HAMILTON. Born near Crawfordville, Georgia, February11, 1812; graduated at University of Georgia, 1832; member of Statelegislature, 1836; member of Congress, 1843-59; Vice-President of theConfederacy, 1861-65; imprisoned in Fort Warren, Boston harbor, May-October, 1865; member of Congress, 1873-82; governor of Georgia, 1883; died at Atlanta, Georgia, March 4, 1883. BLAINE, JAMES GILLESPIE. Born at West Brownsville, Pennsylvania, January31, 1830; member of Congress from Maine, 1862-76; senator, 1876-81;secretary of state, 1881 and 1889-92; unsuccessful candidate ofRepublican party for President, 1884; died at Washington, January 27, 1893. * * * * * CHAPTER VI PIONEERS The settlers in America did not find an unoccupied country of which theywere free to take possession, but a land in which dwelt a savage andwarlike people, who had been named Indians, because the first voyagerssupposed that it was the Indies they had discovered. The name has clung, in spite of the attempts of scientists to fasten upon them the nameAmerinds, to distinguish them from the inhabitants of India. Indiansthey will probably always remain, a standing evidence of the confusionof thought of the early voyagers. That the Indians owned the country there can be no question; butcivilization has never stopped to consider the claims of savage peoples, and it did not in this case. Might made right; besides, the Indians, consisting of scattered, semi-nomadic tribes, seemed to have no use forthe great territory they occupied. Indeed, they themselves, at first, welcomed the white-skinned newcomers; but they soon grew jealous ofencroachments which never ceased, and at last fought step by step fortheir country. They were driven back, defeated, exterminated. But in theearly years, no settlement was safe, and every man was, in a sense, apioneer. The French, in their eagerness for empire, allied themselves with theIndians, supplied them with arms, and offered a bounty for scalps; andfor nearly three quarters of a century, a bitter and bloody contest waswaged, which ended only with the expulsion of the French from thecontinent. Deprived of their ally, the Indians retreated beyond themountains, where their war parties gathered to drive back the whiteinvader. Those years on the frontier developed a race of men accustomedto danger and ready for any chance; and towering head and shouldersabove them all stands the mighty figure of Daniel Boone, the most famousof American pioneers. About him cluster legends and tales innumerable, some true, many false; but one thing is certain; for boldness, cunningand knowledge of woodcraft and Indian warfare he had no equal. Born in Pennsylvania, but moving at an early age to the little frontiersettlement of Holman's Ford, in North Carolina, the boy had barelyenough schooling to enable him to read and write. His real books werethe woods, and he studied them until they held no secrets from him. Hewas a born hunter, a lover of the wild life of the forest, impatient ofcivilization, and truly at home only in the wilderness. The cry of thepanther, the war-whoop of the Indian, were music to him; that was hisnature--to love adventure, to court danger, to welcome the thrill of thepulse which peril brings. Understand him: he was not the man to incurfoolish risks; but he incurred necessary ones without a second thought. He was near death no doubt a hundred times, yet lived to die in hisbed. But he was at his best, he really lived, only when the wildernessheld him and when his life depended upon his care and watchfulness. [Illustration: Boone] In 1755, Boone married and built a log cabin far up the Yadkin, where hehad no neighbors; but as the years passed, other families settled near;the smoke of other cabins rose above the woods; his fields were boundedby rude fences; he could scarcely stir out without encountering someneighbor. It was too crowded for Daniel Boone; he felt the samesensation that your nature lover feels to-day in the midst of a teemingcity--a sense of suffocation and disgust--and he finally determined tomove still further westward, and to cross the mountains into Kentucky, concerning whose richness many stories had reached his ears. Hepersuaded six men to accompany him, and on the first day of May, 1769, set forth on the perilous journey which was to mark the beginning of hislife-work. Up to that time, the Alleghany Mountains had marked a boundary beyondwhich white settlers dared not go, for to the west lay great reaches offorest, uninhabited except for wild beasts and still wilder bands ofroving Indians. Into this forest, Boone and his companions plunged, andafter some weeks of wandering, emerged into the beautiful and fertilecountry of Kentucky--a country not owned by any Indian tribe, butvisited only by wandering war- and hunting-parties from the nationsliving north of the Ohio or south of the Tennessee. The party foundgame in abundance, especially great droves of buffalo, and spent somemonths in hunting and exploring. A roving war-party stumbled upon one ofBoone's companions, and forthwith killed him; a second soon met the samefate, and Boone himself had more than one narrow escape. The danger grewso great, that the other members of the party returned over themountains, and Boone was, for a time, left alone, as he himself put it, "without company of any fellow-creature, or even a horse or dog. " His brother joined him after a time, and the two spent the wintertogether. Game furnished abundant food, and the only danger was from theIndians, but that was an ever-present one. Sometimes they slept inhollow trees, at other times, they changed their resting-place everynight, and after making a fire, would go off for a mile or two in thewoods to sleep. Unceasing vigilance was the price of safety. When springcame, Boone's brother returned over the mountains, and again he was leftalone. Three months later the brother came back, bringing a party ofhunters, but no one was inclined to settle in so dangerous a locality, the struggle to possess which was so fierce that it became known as "thedark and bloody ground. " In 1773, Boone himself started to lead a band of settlers over themountains, but while passing through the frowning defiles of theCumberland Gap, they were attacked by Indians and driven back, two ofBoone's sons being among the slain. Hunting parties crossed themountains from time to time after that, and made great inroads on thevast herds of game, but the Indians were in arms everywhere, and notuntil they had been defeated at the battle of Point Pleasant, thebloodiest in the history of Virginia with its Indian foe, did they suefor peace. The coming of peace marked a new era in the development of the westerncountry. Some years before, a company of men headed by RichardHenderson, had conceived the grandiose project of founding in the west agreat colony, and had purchased from the Cherokee Indians a vast tractof land, which they named Transylvania. It included all the land betweenthe Cumberland and Kentucky rivers, and Daniel Boone was selected toblaze a way into the wilderness, to mark out a road, and start the firstsettlement. He got a party together, crossed the mountains, and on April1, 1775, began to build a fort on the left bank of the Kentucky river, calling it Fort Boone, afterwards Boonesborough. Some settlers moved in, but the outbreak of the Revolution and the consequent renewal of Indianhostilities under encouragement from the British put a stop toimmigration. The fort, alone and unprotected in the wilderness, was soon attacked bya great war-party, but managed to beat off the assailants. Shortlyafterwards, while leading an expedition to the Blue Licks, on theLicking river, to secure a supply of salt, Boone became separated fromhis men, and was surprised and captured by an Indian war-party. The joyof the savages at this capture may be imagined, for they had in theirhands their most intrepid foe. After being exhibited to the British atDetroit, he was brought back to the Indian settlements north of theOhio, and formally adopted into an Indian family, for the savagesdesired, if possible, to make this mighty hunter and warrior one ofthemselves. And Boone might have really adopted Indian life, whichappealed to him in many ways, but one day he found that preparationswere on foot for another great expedition against Boonesborough. Watching his opportunity, he managed to escape, and reached the fort intime to warn it of the impending attack. He covered the distance, 160miles, in four days, eating but a single meal upon the road--a turkeywhich he managed to shoot. He came to Boonesborough like one risen from the dead. The fort was atonce put into a state of defense, and endured the most savage assaultever directed against it, the Indians numbering nearly five hundred, while the garrison mustered but sixty-five. The siege lasted for ninedays, when the Indians, despairing of overcoming a resistance sodesperate, retired. The succeeding years were full of adventure and hair-breadth escapes, which cannot even be mentioned here. On one occasion, Boone and hisbrother, Squire, were surprised by Indians; the latter was killed andscalped and Boone escaped with the greatest difficulty. At the battle ofBlue Licks, two years later, two sons fought at his side, one of whomwas killed and the other severely wounded. But Boone seemed to bear acharmed life. His years in the wilderness had developed in him analmost supernatural keenness of sight and hearing; and constant perilfrom the Indians had made him very careful. Whenever he went into thewoods after game or Indians, he had perpetually to keep watch to makesure that he was not being hunted in turn. Every turkey-call might meana lurking savage, every cracking twig might mean an approaching foe. On one occasion, his daughter and two other girls were carried off byIndians, and Boone, raising a small company, followed the trail of thefugitives without resting for two days and a night; then came to wherethe Indians had killed a buffalo calf and were camped around it, neverdreaming of danger. So Boone and his men crept up on them, shot down theIndians and rescued the girls. On still another occasion, he was pursuedby Indians, who used a tracking dog to follow his trail. Boone turned, shot the dog, and then made good his escape. Such incidents might berelated by the dozen. No wonder Boone was considered one of the mostvaluable men on the frontier, and was a very tower of strength indefending it against the Indians. The end, however, was sad enough. When Kentucky was admitted to theUnion, Boone's titles to the land he had laid out for himself weredeclared to be defective; it was all taken from him, and he moved firstto Ohio, and then to Missouri, where he spent his last years. He washale and hearty almost to the end, leading a hunting-party to the mouthof the Kansas when he was eighty-two years old, and completely tiringout its younger members. Nearly at the end of his life, Congressrecognized his services to his country by granting him eight hundred andfifty acres of land in Missouri, and on this grant, the last years ofhis life were spent. Chester Harding visited him just before the end andpainted a portrait of him which remains the best delineation of theredoubtable old pioneer, whose striking face tells of the resolute will, and unshrinking courage which made the settlement of Kentucky possible. Scarcely less prominent than Boone on the Kentucky frontier, and with acareer in many ways even more adventurous, was Simon Kenton. Born inVirginia in 1755, he had grown to young manhood, rough and uncultivated, and with little evidence of having been raised in a civilized community. At the age of sixteen, he had a desperate affray with a neighbor namedWilliam Veach, during which he caught Veach around the body, whirled himinto the air, and dashed him to the ground with such violence, that hethought he had broken his neck. Not daring to return home or to lingerin the neighborhood, for fear his crime would be discovered and hehimself arrested and hanged, he plunged into the wilderness and made hisway westward over the mountains, changing his name to Simon Butler. The two or three years following were spent by him in roaming along theOhio valley, sometimes alone, sometimes with two or three companions, and always surrounded by danger. On one occasion, his camp was surprisedby Indians, and he and his companion were forced to flee for theirlives without weapons of any kind, and with no clothing but theirshirts. For six days and nights, they wandered without fire or food, suffering from the cold, for it was the dead of winter, and so torn andlacerated that on the last two days they covered only six miles, most ofit on hands and knees. Staggering and crawling forward, they came out atlast upon the Ohio river, and by good fortune fell in with ahunting-party and were saved. Kenton's life was full of just such incidents. Daniel Boone found in hima most valuable ally, incapable of fear and with a knowledge ofwoodcraft surpassed only by Boone himself. Kenton was inside Boone'sfort whenever it was in danger, and on one occasion saved Boone's life. Let us tell the story, for it is typical of the border warfare in whichboth Boone and Kenton were so expert. One morning, having loaded their guns for a hunt, Kenton and twocompanions were standing in the gate of Fort Boone, when two men, whowere driving in some horses from a near-by field, were fired upon byIndians. They fled toward the fort, the Indians after them, and one ofthem was overtaken and killed and was being scalped, when Kenton and hiscompanions ran up, killed one of the Indians and pursued the others tothe edge of the clearing. Boone, meanwhile, had heard the firing, andcame hurrying out with reinforcements, only, a moment later, to be cutoff from the fort by a strong body of savages. There was nothing to dobut to cut their way back through them, and in the charge, Boonereceived a ball through the leg, breaking the bone. As he fell, theIndian leader raised his tomahawk to kill him, but Kenton, seeing hiscomrade's peril, shot the Indian through the heart, and succeeded indragging Boone inside the fort. During the Dunmore war, Kenton ranged the Indian country as a spy, carrying his life in his hand, and accompanied George Rogers Clark onhis famous Illinois campaign. A short time later, with one or twoothers, he started on an expedition to run off some horses from theMiami villages, and had nearly succeeded, when he was captured. TheIndians hated him more bitterly than they hated Boone himself, and theyprepared to enjoy themselves at his expense. They bound him to a wildhorse and chased the horse through the forest until their captive's facewas torn and bleeding from the lashing of the branches; they staked himdown at night so that he could not move hand or foot, and when theyreached their town, the whole population turned out to make him run thegauntlet. The Indians formed in a double line, about six feet apart, each armed with a heavy club, and Kenton was forced to run between them. He had not gone far when he saw ahead of him an Indian with drawn knife, prepared to plunge it into him as he passed. By a mighty effort, hebroke through the line, but was soon recaptured, lashed with whips, pelted with stones, branded with red-hot irons, and condemned to beburnt at the stake. But before killing him, the Indians concluded to lend him to other townsto have some sport with, so he was taken from town to town, compelled torun the gauntlet at each one, and subjected to a variegated list oftortures. Three or four times, he was tied to a stake for the finalexecution, but each time the Indians decided to wait a while longer. Finally, an Englishman got the Indians to consent to send Kenton for avisit to Detroit, and he spent the winter there. Then, with two othercaptives, and with the help of a kind-hearted Irish woman, he managed toescape, and made his way back to Kentucky--over four hundred milesthrough the Indian country, narrowly escaping death a hundred times--inthirty-three days. There he learned that he need not have fled from Pennsylvania, that theman with whom he had fought years before was not dead, but hadrecovered. For the first time since his appearance in the west, heassumed his real name, and was known thereafter as Simon Kenton. Soonafterwards he returned to his old home, and brought the whole familyback with him to Kentucky. One would have thought he had had enough offighting, but he was with Wayne at the Fallen timbers and with WilliamHenry Harrison at the battle of the Thames. Sadly enough, the last yearsof this old hero were passed in want. His land in Kentucky was takenfrom him by speculators because he had failed to have it properlyregistered, and he was imprisoned for debt on the spot where he hadreared the first cabin in northern Kentucky. In the spring of 1824, an old, tattered, weather-beaten figure appearedon the streets of Frankfort, the capital of Kentucky. So strange andwild it was that a gang of street boys gathered and ran hooting afterit. Men laughed--till suddenly, one of them, looking again, recognizedSimon Kenton. In a moment a guard of honor was formed, and the tatteredfigure was conducted to the Capitol, placed in the speaker's chair, andfor the first and only time in his life, Simon Kenton received someportion of the respect and homage to which his deeds entitled him. * * * * * Boone and Kenton, with a handful of hardy and fearless pioneers, laidthe foundations of Kentucky; but in the history of the "Old Northwest, "the country north of the Ohio and east of the Mississippi, one namestands out transcendent; the name of a man as daring, as brave, asresourceful as any on the border--George Rogers Clark. He was greaterthan Boone or Kenton in that he had a wider vision; they saw only theduties of the present; he saw the possibilities of the future, and hisexploits form one of the most thrilling chapters of American history. Clark, a Virginian by birth, started out in life as a surveyor, andearly in 1775, removed to Kentucky to follow his profession. There was, no doubt, plenty of surveying to be done there, since the whole countrywas an uncharted wilderness, but the beginning of the Revolution wasaccompanied by an immediate outbreak of Indian hostilities, so seriousthat the very existence of the Kentucky settlements was threatened. Soon all but two of them, Boonesborough and Harrodsburg, had to beabandoned. Boone was, of course, in command at his fort, and Clark, whohad seen some service in Dunmore's war, became the natural leader atHarrod's. His influence rapidly increased, and he was chosen as adelegate to journey to Williamsburg and urge upon Virginia the needs ofthe western colony, which lay within her chartered limits. Clark set off without delay on the long and dangerous journey, reachedWilliamsburg, gained an audience of Patrick Henry, the governor ofVirginia, and painted the needs of Kentucky in such colors that he soongained the sympathy of the impulsive and warm-hearted governor, andtogether they secured from the Assembly a large gift of lead and powderfor the protection of the frontier. More than that, they succeeded inmaking Virginia acknowledge her responsibility for the new colony byconstituting it the county of Kentucky. This, it may be added, put anend forever to Henderson's dream of the independent colony ofTransylvania. Clark got his powder and ball safe to Harrodsburg just in time to repela desperate Indian assault; but it was evident that there would be nosafety for the Kentucky settlements so long as England controlled thecountry north of the Ohio. All that region formed a part of what wasknown as the Province of Quebec. Here and there dotted through it werequaint little towns of French Creoles, the most important beingDetroit, Vincennes on the Wabash, and Kaskaskia and Kahokia on theIllinois. These French villages were ruled by British officerscommanding small bodies of regular soldiers, and keeping the Indians ina constant state of war against their Kentucky neighbors, furnishingthem with arms and ammunition, and rewarding them for every expeditionthey undertook against the Americans. They had no idea that any band ofAmericans which could be mustered west of the mountains would dare toattack them, and so were careless in their guard, and maintained onlysmall garrisons at the various forts. All this Clark found out by means of spies which he sent through thecountry, and finally, having his plan matured, he went again to Virginiain December, 1777, and laid before Governor Henry his whole idea, explaining in detail why he thought it could be carried outsuccessfully. Henry was at once enthused with it, so daring and full ofpromise he thought it, and he enlisted the aid of Thomas Jefferson. Theresult was that when Clark set out on his return journey, it was withorders not only to defend Kentucky, but to attack Kaskaskia and theother British posts, and he carried with him £1, 200 in paper money, andan order on the commander of Fort Pitt for such boats and ammunition ashe might need. With great difficulty, Clark got together a force of about a hundred andfifty men, one of whom was Simon Kenton. He could not get manyvolunteers from Kentucky because the settlers there thought they hadall they could do to defend their own forts without going out to attackthe enemy's and only a few men could be spared. In May, 1778, thislittle force started down the Ohio in flat boats, and landing justbefore they reached the Mississippi, marched northward againstKaskaskia, where the British commander of the entire district had hisheadquarters. Clark knew that his force was outnumbered by the garrisonand that it would be necessary to surprise the town. After a six days'march across country, he came to the outskirts of the village on theevening of July 4th, and found a great dance in progress in the fort. Waiting until the revelry was at its height, Clark advanced silently, surprised the sentries, and surrounded the fort without causing anyalarm. Then with his men posted, Clark walked forward through the opendoor, and leaning against the wall, watched the dancers, as they whirledaround by the light of the flaring torches. Suddenly an Indian, after looking at him for a moment, raised thewar-whoop; the dancing ceased, but Clark, shouting at the top of hisvoice to still the confusion, bade the dancers continue, asking themonly to remember that thereafter they were dancing under the flag of theUnited States, instead of that of Great Britain. A few moments later, the commandant was captured in his bed, and the investment was complete. The other settlements in the neighborhood surrendered at once, so thatthe Illinois country was captured without the firing of a gun. But when the news reached the British governor, Hamilton, at Detroit, heat once prepared to recapture the country. He had a much larger force athis command than Clark could possibly muster, and in the fall of theyear he advanced against Vincennes at the head of over five hundred men. The little American garrison was unable to oppose such a force and wascompelled to surrender. Instead of pushing on against Clark atKaskaskia, Hamilton disbanded his Indians and sent some of his troopsback to Detroit, and prepared to spend the winter at Vincennes. Herepaired the fort, strengthened the defenses, and then sat down for thewinter, confident that when spring came, he would again be master of thewhole Illinois country. Clark, at Kaskaskia, realized that it was a question of his taking theBritish or the British taking him, and that, if he waited for spring, hewould have no chance at all; so he gathered together the pick of hismen, one hundred and seventy all told, and early in February, 1779, setout for Vincennes. The task before him was to capture a force nearlyequal to his own, protected by a strong fort well supplied for a siege. At first the journey was easy enough, for they passed across the snowyIllinois prairies, broken occasionally by great stretches of woodland, but when they reached the drowned lands of the Wabash, the march becamealmost incredibly difficult. The ice had just broken up and everythingwas flooded; heavy rains set in, and when the men were not wadingthrough icy water, they were struggling through mud nearly knee-deep. After twelve days of this, they came to the bank of the Embarass river, only to find the country all under water, save one little hillock, wherethey spent the night without food or fire. For four days they waitedthere for the flood to retire, with practically nothing to eat; but therain continued and the flood increased, and Clark, finally, indesperation, plunged into the water and called to his men to follow. Allday they waded, and toward evening reached a small patch of dry ground, where they spent a miserable night. At sunrise Clark started on again, through icy water waist-deep, this time with the stern command to shootthe first laggard. Some of the men failed and sank beneath the waves, tobe rescued by the stronger ones, and by the middle of the afternoon theyhad all got safe to land. By good fortune, they captured some Indiansquaws with a canoe-load of food, and had their first meal in two days. Soon afterwards the sun came out, and they saw before them the walls ofthe fort they had come to capture. The British had no suspicion of their danger, and they thought the firstpatter of bullets against the palisades the usual friendly salute froman Indian hunting party. But they were soon undeceived, and answered therifles with ineffective fire from their two small cannon. All night thefight continued, and at dawn an Indian war-party, which had beenravaging the Kentucky settlements, entered the town, ignorant that theAmericans had captured it. Marching up to the fort, they suddenly foundthemselves surrounded and seized. In their belts they carried the scalpsof the settlers--men, women and children--they had slain, and, infuriated at the sight, the Americans tomahawked the savages, one afteranother, before the eyes of the British. Then Clark sent to the fort a peremptory summons to surrender, adding, that "his men were eager to avenge the murder of their relatives andfriends and would welcome an excuse to storm the fort. " To the British, it seemed a choice between surrender and massacre. They had seen thebloody vengeance wreaked upon their Indian allies, and they had everyreason to believe that they would be dealt with in the same manner, since it was they who had set the Indians on. Clark was himself, ofcourse, in desperate straits, without means for carrying on a successfulsiege, but the British were far from suspecting this, and at ten o'clockon the morning of February 25, 1779, marched out and stacked arms, whileClark fired a salute of thirteen guns in honor of the colonies, fromwhose possession the Northwest was never again to pass. For eight years longer, Clark devoted his life to protecting the borderfrom British and Indian invasion. The war over, he returned to Kentucky, and took up his abode in a little log cabin on the Ohio near Louisville. He was without means, and a horrible accident marred his last years, for, while alone in his cabin, he was stricken with paralysis, and fellwith one of his legs in the old-fashioned fire-place. There was no oneto draw him out of danger, and before the pain brought him partially tohis senses, his leg was so badly burned that it had to be amputated. There were no anaesthetics in those days, but while the leg was beingremoved, a fife and drum corps played its hardest at the bedside, andthe doughty old warrior kept time to the music with his fingers. He lived for ten years thereafter, though his paralysis never left him. He felt keenly the ingratitude of the Republic which he had served sowell, and which yet, in his old age, abandoned him to want, and thestory is told that, when the state of Virginia sent him a sword ofhonor, he thrust it into the ground and broke it with his crutch. "I gave Virginia a sword when she needed one, " he said; "but now, when Ineed bread, she sends me a toy!" * * * * * In the settlement of the country north of the Ohio, one man, a veteranof the Revolution, was foremost. His name was Rufus Putnam, and he was acousin of that Israel Putnam, some of whose exploits we will soonrelate. He has been well called the "Father of Ohio, " for he was thefounder of the first permanent white settlement made within the bordersof the state. He was born in 1738, at Sutton, Massachusetts, and hisearly life was a hard and rough one. Left an orphan while still a child, he was put to work as soon as he was big enough to be of any use, andreceived practically no education, although he managed to teach himselfto read and write. He earned a few pennies by watering horses fortravelers, and with this money purchased a spelling-book and arithmetic. He served through the French war and the Revolution, renderingdistinguished service and retiring with the rank of brigadier-general;and at its close, finding that Congress would be unable for a long timeto pay many of the soldiers for their services, he became interested inthe suggestion that payment be made in land along the Ohio river, andoffered to lead a band of settlers to their new homes. In March, 1786, in Boston, he and some others formed the Ohio Company, and one of theirdirectors, Manasseh Cutler, a preacher of more than usual ability, wasselected to lay the company's plan before Congress. The result was thefamous ordinance of 1787, providing for the establishment and governmentof the Northwest Territory, of which Arthur St. Clair was namedgovernor. Cutler also secured a large land grant for the new company, and in the following year, Putnam started across the mountains with thefirst band of emigrants. They reached the vicinity of Pittsburg after a weary journey, and therebuilt a boat which they named the Mayflower, and in it floated down theriver, until they reached the mouth of the Muskingum. On April 17, 1788, they began the erection of a blockhouse, which was to be the nucleus ofthe new settlement, and a place of defense in case of Indian attack. Thesettlement was named Marietta, in honor of Marie Antoinette, the Queenof France; it prospered from the first, and in a few years was a livelylittle village. There were Indian alarms at first, but General Wayne'svictory secured a lasting peace. Putnam served as a brigadier-general inWayne's campaign, and was one of the commissioners who negotiated thepeace treaty. He lived for many years thereafter, and remained to the last the leadingman of the settlement. He was interested in every project for thebetterment of the new Commonwealth, helped to found the Ohio Universityat Athens, was one of the drafters of the state constitution, andfounded the first Bible school west of the mountains. A venerablefigure, he died in 1824, having lived to see the valley which he hadentered a wilderness settled by hundreds of thousands, and the statewhich he had helped to found become one of the greatest in the Union. * * * * * By the end of the eighteenth century, the country between theAlleghanies and the Mississippi was fairly well known, first through theexplorations of such pioneers as Boone and Clark and Kenton, and, lateron, through the steady advance of civilization, forever throwing newoutposts westward. But beyond the great river stretched a mightywilderness whose character and extent were only guessed at. The UnitedStates, of course, had little interest in it, since it belonged toFrance, and since, east of the river, there were millions of acres asyet unsettled; but when, in 1803, President Jefferson purchased it ofNapoleon Bonaparte for the sum of fifteen million dollars, all that waschanged. By that purchase, the area of the United States was more thandoubled; but there were many people at the time who opposed the purchaseon the ground that the country east of the river would never bethoroughly settled and that there would be no use whatever for the greatterritory west of it. So mistaken, sometimes, is human foresight! The President determined that this great addition to the Nation shouldbe explored without delay, and, securing from Congress the necessarypowers, he appointed his private secretary, Captain Meriwether Lewis, tohead an expedition to the Pacific. Lewis was at that time twenty-nine years of age. He seems to have beenof an adventurous disposition for, despite the fact that he inherited afortune, he enlisted in the army as a private as soon as he was of age. Five years later, he had risen to the rank of captain, and, attractingthe attention of President Jefferson, he was appointed his secretary. Heproved to be so capable and enterprising that the President selected himfor this dangerous and arduous task of exploration. With him wasassociated Lieutenant William Clark, a brother of that hardy adventurer, George Rogers Clark. William Clark, who was eighteen years younger than his famous brother, had joined him in Kentucky in 1784, at the age of fourteen, and soonbecame acquainted with the perils of Indian warfare. He was appointedensign in the army four years later, and rose to the rank of adjutant, but was compelled to resign, from the service in 1796, on account ofill-health. He settled at the half-Spanish town of St. Louis, and inMarch, 1804, was appointed by President Jefferson a second lieutenant ofartillery, with orders to join Captain Lewis in his journey to thePacific. Clark was really the military director of the expedition, andhis knowledge of Indian life and character had much to do with itssuccess. The party consisted of twenty-eight men, and in the spring of 1804, started up the Missouri, following it until late in October, when theycamped for the winter near the present site of Bismarck, North. Dakota. They resumed the journey early in the spring, and in May, caught theirfirst glimpse of the Rocky Mountains. Reaching the headwaters of theColumbia, at last, they floated down its current, and on the morning ofNovember 7, 1806, after a journey of a year and a half, full of everysort of hardship and adventure, they saw ahead of them the blue expanseof the Pacific. They spent the winter on the coast, and reached St. Louis again in September, 1807, having traversed over nine thousandmiles of unbroken wilderness where no white man had ever before setfoot. It was largely because of this expedition that our government wasable, forty years later, to claim and maintain a title to the state ofOregon. Congress rewarded the members of the expedition with grants of land, and Lewis was appointed governor of Missouri. But the strain of theexpedition to the Pacific had undermined his health; he became subjectto fits of depression, and on October 8, 1809, he put an end to his lifein a lonely cabin near Nashville, Tennessee, where he had stopped for anight's lodging. Clark lived thirty years longer, serving as Indianagent, governor of Missouri, and superintendent of Indian affairs. While Lewis and Clark were struggling across the continent, anotheryoung adventurer was conducting some explorations farther to the east. Zebulon Pike, aged twenty-seven, a captain in the regular army, was, in1805, appointed to lead an expedition to the source of the Mississippi. He accomplished this, after a hard journey lasting nine months; and, ayear later, leading another expedition to the southwest, discovered agreat mountain which he named Pike's Peak, and, continuing southward, came out on the Rio Grande. He was in Spanish territory, and was heldprisoner for a time, but was finally released upon representations fromthe government at Washington. He rose steadily in the service, and in1813, during the second war with England, led an assault upon LittleYork, now Toronto. The town was captured, but the fleeing Britishexploded a powder magazine, and General Pike was crushed and killedbeneath the flying fragments. He died with his head on the British flag, which had been hauled down and brought to him. The next step to be recorded in the growth of the United States is astep variously regarded as infamous or glorious--but it was marked byone of the most heroic incidents in history, and dominated by thepicturesque and remarkable personality of Sam Houston. The purchase of Louisiana from the French brought the United States indirect contact with Mexico, which claimed a great territory in thesouthwest, and, finally, in 1819, a line between the possessions of thetwo countries was agreed upon. It left Mexico in possession of the widestretch of country now included in the states of California, Nevada, Utah, Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Texas. Most of thiscountry was practically unknown to Americans, and the great stretches ofarid land which comprised large portions of it were considered worthlessand uninhabitable. But a good many Americans had drifted across theborder into the fertile plains of Texas, and settled there. As time wenton, the stream of immigration increased, until there were in the countryenough American settlers to take a prominent part in the revolt ofMexico against Spain in 1824. The revolt was successful, and the countrywhich had discovered the New World lost her last foothold there. The settlers in Texas, coming as they did largely from the southernstates, were naturally slave-holders, but in 1829, Mexico abolishedslavery, an action which greatly enraged them. It is startling toreflect that a country which we consider so inferior to ourselves shouldhave preceded us by over thirty years in this great step forward incivilization. In other ways, the Mexican yoke was not a pleasant one tothe Texans, and within a few years, the whole country was in a state ofseething insurrection. President Jackson was eager to annex Texas, whosevalue to the Union he fully recognized, and offered Mexico five milliondollars for the province, but the offer was refused. Such was thecondition of affairs when, in 1833, Sam Houston appeared upon the scene. The story of the life of this extraordinary man reads like a fable. Bornin Virginia in 1793, he was taken to Tennessee at the age of thirteen, and promptly began his career by running away from home and joining theCherokee Indians. When his family found him, he refused to return home, and the next seven years were spent largely in the wilderness with hissavage friends. The wild life was congenial to him, and he grew up roughand head-strong and healthy. Then the Creek war broke out, and Houstonenlisted with Andrew Jackson. One incident of that war gives a betterinsight into Houston's character than volumes of description. At thebattle of the Horseshoe, where the Creeks made a desperate stand, abarbed arrow struck Houston in the thigh and sank deep into the flesh. He tried to pull it out and failed. "Here, " he called to a comrade, "pull out this arrow. " The other took hold of the shaft of the arrow and pulled with all hismight, but could not dislodge it. "I can't get it out, " he said, at last. "Oh, yes, you can!" cried Houston, and raised his sword. "Pull it out, or it'll be worse for you!" The soldier saw he was in earnest, and, taking hold of the arrow again, gave it a mighty wrench. It came out, but the barbs of the arrow torethe flesh badly. Houston, however, paused only to tie up the woundroughly, and hurried back into the fight, though Jackson ordered him tothe rear. Before long, two bullets struck him down, and he lay betweenlife and death for many days. Such desperate valor was exactly after "Old Hickory's" heart, and fromthat time forward, Jackson was Houston's friend and patron. In 1818, hemanaged to gain admittance to the bar, and his rise was so rapid thatwithin five years he had been elected to Congress, and four years latergovernor of Tennessee. Then came the strange catastrophe which nearlywrecked his life. Houston was, after Andrew Jackson, the most popular man in the state. Heresembled the hero of New Orleans in many ways, being rough, rude, hot-headed and honest--just the sort of man to appeal to the peopleamong whom his lot was cast. When, therefore, in January, 1829, whilegovernor of the state, he married Miss Eliza Allen, a member of one ofthe most prominent families in it, everybody wished him well, and thewedding was a great affair. But scarcely was the honeymoon over, when hesent his bride back to her parents, resigned the governorship, and, refusing to give any explanation of his conduct, plunged into thewilderness to the west. Perhaps the most characteristic feature of frontier society is itschivalry toward women, and Houston's conduct brought about his head aperfect storm of indignation. No doubt he had many enemies who welcomedthe opportunity to wreck his fame, and who gladly added their voices tothe uproar. From the most popular man, he became the most hated, and itwould have been dangerous for him to venture back within the state'sborders. Not until after his death, did his wife give any explanation ofhis conduct. She stated that he had discovered that she loved another, and that he had deserted her so that she could secure a divorce on theground of abandonment. That explanation, lame as it is, is the only oneever offered by either of the principals. Meanwhile, Houston had joined his old friends, the Cherokees, now livingin Arkansas Territory, and asked to be admitted to the tribe. TheIndians expressed the opinion that he should have beaten his wifeinstead of abandoning her, but nevertheless adopted him, and for threeyears he lived their life, dressing, fighting, hunting and drinkingprecisely like any Indian. The papers, meanwhile, were filled withsurmises concerning him. No one understood why he should have exiledhimself, and it was reported that he intended to lead the Cherokees intoTexas, conquer the country and set up a government of his own. PresidentJackson wrote to him, protesting against "any such chimerical, visionaryscheme, " which, needless to say, Houston had never entertained. Theserumors grew so annoying, that he issued a proclamation offering a prize"To the Author of the Most Elegant, Refined, and Ingenious Lie orCalumny" about him. The trouble culminated when Houston, having gone to Washington to pleadfor his friends, the Indians, caned a member of Congress who hadslandered him on the floor of the House. He was arrested, and arraignedbefore the bar of the House for "breach of privilege, " and wasreprimanded by the Speaker and fined five hundred dollars--a fine whichPresident Jackson promptly remitted, remarking that a few more examplesof the same kind would teach Congressmen to keep civil tongues in theirheads. Houston's comment on the affair was, "I was dying out once, and, had they taken me before a justice of the peace and fined me ten dollarsfor assault and battery, it would have killed me; but they gave me anational tribunal for a theatre and it set me up again. " It did "set him up" in earnest. The President, who always had a warmplace in his heart for him, helped by sending him--not, perhaps, withoutsome insight into the future--to Texas, to examine into the value ofthat country, in case the United States should decide to buy it. WhatJackson's private instructions were can only be surmised, but, certainly, Houston showed no hesitation or uncertainty after he reachedthe scene. On December 10, 1832, he crossed into Mexican territory, and was soon atthe head of the Texas insurrectionists, who had determined to establisha government of their own, and who found in Houston a leader after theirown hearts. Armed collisions between Texans and Mexican troops becameof common occurrence, and the spirit of revolt spread so rapidly thatSanta Anna, dictator of Mexico, sent an army under General Cos to pacifythe country and drive the Americans out. It was the spark in the magazine. All Texas sprang to arms under suchleaders as Houston, Austin, Travis, Bonham, Fannin, "Deaf" Smith, and"Ben" Milam; took Goliad, where Milam lost his life heading a desperateassault; captured Concepçion and San Antonio, until, by the middle ofDecember, 1836, not a Mexican soldier was left north of the Rio Grande. But Houston, who had been appointed commander-in-chief of the Texanforces, knew they would return, and bent every effort to organize adisciplined army. It was a difficult thing to do with the high-temperedand lawless elements at hand; everything was disorder and confusion, andmeanwhile came word that Santa Anna himself, at the head of an army ofsix thousand men, was entering Texas. No effective opposition could be offered such an army; the San Antoniogarrison was entrapped in the old mission called The Alamo and killed tothe last man; Fannin and his force, three hundred and fifty strong, werecornered at Goliad and brutally shot down in detachments after they hadsurrendered; and Santa Anna, certain that Texas had been conquered, divided his army into columns to occupy the country. Houston only wasleft, and the fate of Texas hung on his little force; he knew he couldstrike but once; if he were defeated, the war for independence wouldend then and there; so he watched and waited, gathering together thestragglers, keeping them in heart, laboring like a very Hercules. Hundreds of miles away, in Washington, old Andrew Jackson, a map ofTexas before him, followed with his finger the retreat as far as he knewit, and paused with in on San Jacinto. "Here's the place, " he said. "If Sam Houston's worth one bawbee, he'llstand here and give 'em a fight. " And so it was. It makes the pulses thrill, even yet, the story of thattwenty-first of April, 1836; how Houston destroyed the bridge behindthem, so that there could be no retreat, and then, on his great grayhorse, tried to address his men, but could only cry: "Remember TheAlamo"; how old Rusk could say not even that, but choked with a sob atthe first word, and waved his hand toward the enemy; how the solitaryfife struck up, "Will you come to the bower I have shaded for you?"while those seven hundred gaunt, starved, ragged phantoms, burning withrage at the thought of their comrades foully slain, deployed on the openprairie and charged the unsuspecting Mexican army. It was over in halfan hour--the enemy annihilated, 630 killed, 200 wounded, 700prisoners--among the prisoners Santa Anna himself, begging for mercy. And Aaron Burr, dying in New York with the vision of his Texan empirestill before him, reading, weeks later, the news of the victory, criedout, "I was thirty years too soon!" There was never any question, after that, of Texan independence; SantaAnna, to save a life forfeited a hundred times over, was ready to agreeto any terms. Houston was a popular hero; Texas was his child, and hewas unanimously chosen President of the new Republic. From the first, Houston, recalling the wishes of his old leader, Andrew Jackson, soughtannexation to the United States, and the debates over the question inCongress nearly disrupted the Union. For the North feared the effects ofsuch a tremendous addition to slave territory, from which three or fourstates might be carved, and so destroy the balance of power betweenNorth and South. Again, Mexico, which still dreamed of reconqueringTexas, notified the United States that annexation would be considered adeclaration of war; but Houston pressed the question with greatadroitness, it was evident that Texas really belonged in the Union, andon March 1, 1845, Congress passed the resolution of annexation, andHouston and Husk, the heroes of San Jacinto, were at once electedsenators. In the brief but brilliant war with Mexico which followed, which isconsidered more in detail in connection with the life of Winfield Scott, and which resulted in the securing of the great Southwest for the UnitedStates, Houston played no part, except as a member of the Senate, wherehe remained until 1859, being defeated finally by a secessionist. For, true to the precepts of Jackson, he was from the first bitterly opposedto nullification and secession. The same year, he was elected governorof Texas, turning a Union minority into a triumphant majority by thewizardry of his personality. He could not prevent secession, however, but he refused to take the oath to the Confederate government requiredby the legislature and was deposed. Martial law being established, anofficer one day demanded Houston's pass. "San Jacinto, " he answered, and went on his way, nor did any dare molesthim. But he was worn out and aging fast, and the end came toward theclose of July, 1863. Reference has been made to the capture of the old mission at San Antonioknown as "The Alamo, " and a brief account must be given of theremarkable group of men who lost their lives there--David Crockett, James Bowie, and William Barrett Travis. Crockett was perhaps the mostfamous of the three, and his name is still more or less of a householdword throughout the middle West, while some of his stories have passedinto proverbs. He was the most famous rifle shot in the whole countryand the most successful hunter. Born in Tennessee soon after theRevolutionary war, of an Irish father, he ran away from home after a fewdays' schooling, knocked about the country, served through the Creek warunder Andrew Jackson, and gained so much popularity by his huntingstories, with which he held great audiences spellbound, that he waselected to the State legislature and then to Congress, though he hadnever read a newspaper. In Congress, he managed to antagonize AndrewJackson, not a difficult task by any means, with the result thatJackson, who carried Tennessee in his vest pocket, effectively endedCrockett's political career. Crockett left the state in disgust, seekingnew worlds to conquer, and hearing of the struggle in Texas, decided tojoin the revolutionists. By boat and on horseback, he made his way toward the distant plainswhere the Texans were waging their life and death struggle against theMexicans. More than one hairbreadth escape did the old hunter have fromIndians, desperadoes and wild beasts, but he finally got to theneighborhood of San Antonio, and fell in with another adventurer, abee-hunter, also on his way to join the Texans. They soon learned that agreat Mexican army was marching on San Antonio, and that the defendersof the place had gathered in the old mission called "The Alamo. " Therewere only a hundred and fifty of them, while the Mexican army numberedfour thousand; but they had made up their minds to hold the place, amere shell, utterly unable to withstand artillery, or even a regular andwell-directed assault. It was plain enough that to attempt to defend theplace against such an overwhelming force was desperate in the extreme, but Crockett and his companion kept straight on, and were soon insideThe Alamo. A few days later, Santa Anna's great army camped around it. In command of The Alamo garrison was Colonel Travis, a young man oftwenty-five; an Alabaman, admitted to the bar there, but driven out ofhis native state by financial troubles, and casting in his lot with theTexas revolutionists, among whom he soon acquired considerableinfluence. The third of the trio, Colonel Bowie, was a native ofGeorgia, but had settled in Louisiana, where, nine years before, he hadbeen a participant in a celebrated affray. Two gentlemen, becominginvolved in a quarrel, decided to settle it in approved fashion by aduel, and, accompanied by their friends, among whom was Bowie, adjournedto a convenient place and took a shot at each other without doing anydamage. They were about to declare honor satisfied and to shake hands, when a dispute arose among their friends, and before it was over, fifteen were killed and six were badly injured. Bowie distinguishedhimself by stabbing a man to death with a knife made from a large file. The weapon was afterwards sent to Philadelphia and there fashioned intothe deadly knife which has ever since been known by his name. Theprospect of trouble in Texas naturally attracted him, he was madecolonel of militia there, and dispatched to The Alamo with a small forceby General Houston early in 1836. Here, then, in this old and crumbling Spanish mission, toward the end ofFebruary, were gathered a hundred and fifty Texans, a wild andundisciplined band, impatient of restraint or control, but men of ironcourage and the best shots on the border, with Travis in command; whilewithout was the army of Santa Anna. On February 24th, Travis, in aletter asking for reinforcements, announced the siege and added that hewould never surrender or retreat. Early in March, thirty-two men fromGonzales, knowing they were going to well-nigh certain death, made theirway into the fort, raising its garrison to 180. Santa Anna demanded unconditional surrender, and Travis answered with acannon-shot; whereat, on the morning of the sixth of March, the Mexicanarmy stormed the fort from all sides, swarmed in through breaches andover the walls, which the Texans were too few to man, and a desperatehand-to-hand conflict followed. To and fro between the shattered wallsthe fight reeled, each tall Texan the centre of a group of foes, fighting with a wild and desperate courage; but the odds were too great, and one by one they fell, thrust through with bayonets or riddled bybullets. Colonel Travis fell, and so did Bowie, sick and weak from awasting disease, but rising from his bed, and dying fighting with hisgreat knife red with the blood of his foes. At last a single man stoodat bay. It was Davy Crockett. Wounded in a dozen places, ringed about by the bodies of the men he hadslain, he stood facing his foes, his back against a wall, knife in hand, daring them to come on. No one dared to run in upon that old lion. Sothey held him there with their lances, while, the musketeers loadedtheir carbines and shot him down. Not a man of the garrison was leftalive, but each of them had avenged himself four times over, for theMexican loss was over five hundred. So ended one of the most heroicevents in American history. "Thermopylae had its messengers of death; TheAlamo had none. " * * * * * One more era remains to be recorded, that in which the United Statesconfirmed its hold upon the Pacific coast, and here again the story isthat of the lives of three men--Marcus Whitman, John Augustus Sutter, and John Charles Frémont. It was Whitman who brought home to the Nationthe value of Oregon by a spectacular ride from ocean to ocean; it wasSutter who led the way for an American invasion of California, and whogave impetus to that invasion by the discovery of gold; and it wasFrémont who led the revolution there against the Mexicans, and whosecured the country's independence. The explorations of Lewis and Clark, early in the century, had made thecountry along the Columbia river known to the East in a dim way, but itwas so distant and so inaccessible that it excited little interest. Justbefore the second war with England, John Jacob Astor had attempted tocarry out a far-reaching plan for the development of the country and thesecuring of its great fur trade, but the outbreak of the war had stoppedall efforts in that direction, and Astor never took them up again. Meanwhile through Canada, the Hudson Bay Company, a great Englishconcern engaged in the fur trade, had extended its stations to thePacific coast, and was quietly taking possession of the country. In 1834, the American board of missions, learning of the need for amissionary among the Oregon Indians, appointed Marcus Whitman to thework. Whitman was at that time thirty-two years of age and was justabout to be married. His betrothed agreed to accompany him on hisperilous mission, and, after great difficulty, he secured an associatein the person of Rev. H. H. Spalding, also just married. What a bridaltrip that was! At Pittsburg, George Catlin, who knew the western Indiansbetter than any living man, having spent years among them, warned themof the folly of attempting to take women across the plains; atCincinnati, they were greeted by William Moody, only forty-five years ofage and yet the first white man born there; at the frontier town of St. Louis, they joined a hunting expedition up the Missouri, and by June 6, 1836, were at Laramie. A month later, they crossed the Great Divide by the South Pass, "discovered, " six years later, by Frémont; and toward the end of July, they came to the great mountain rendezvous of traders and trappers highin the mountains near Fort Hall. Some of those men had not seen a whitewoman for a quarter of a century. You can imagine, then, what asensation the arrival of Mrs. Whitman and Mrs. Spalding occasioned, andwith what warmth they were welcomed. Ten days they tarried there, thenpressed on westward, and on September 2, 1836, after a journey ofthirty-five hundred miles, the gates of Fort Walla-Walla, on the lowerColumbia, opened to receive them, and the conquest of Oregon began. Fort Walla-Walla belonged to the Hudson Bay Company, which hadundisputed control of the rich Oregon fur trade, and which wasdetermined to retain it at any cost. So the difficulties of the Oregontrail were invariably exaggerated, and immigration from the statessystematically discouraged. Nevertheless, in the years followingWhitman's arrival, other parties of missionaries and settlers workedtheir way into the country, until, in 1842, their number reached about ahundred and fifty. The Hudson Bay Company realized that neither Englandnor America had a clear title to the region, and that its populationmust, in the end, determine its nationality. Consequently it bent everyeffort to hurry English settlers into the country. In October, 1842, Whitman was dining with a company of Englishmen at Walla-Walla, when amessenger arrived with news of the approach of a large body of settlersfrom Canada. A shout arose: "Hurrah for Oregon! America is too late!We've got the country!" And Whitman, at a glance, saw through the plan. Twenty-four hours later, he had started to ride across the continent tocarry the news to Washington. He had caught the import of the news, hadgrasped its consequences, and he was determined that Oregon, with itsgreat forests and broad prairies, its mighty rivers, and itsunparalleled richness, should be saved for the Union. If the Nation onlyknew the value of the prize, England would never be permitted to carryit off. His wife and friends protested against the desperateventure--four thousand miles on horseback--for it would soon be the deadof winter, with snow hiding the trail and filling the passes, withstreams ice-blocked and winter-swollen, and last but not least, with theBlackfoot Indians on the warpath. But he would listen to none of this:his duty, as he conceived it, lay clear before him; he was determined toset out at once. Amos Lovejoy volunteered to accompany him, a busy nightwas spent in preparation, and the next day they were off. No diary of that remarkable journey was kept by Dr. Whitman, but most ofits incidents are known. Terribly severe weather was encountered almostat the start, for ten days they were snowed up in the mountains, andlong before the journey ended, were reduced to rations of dog and mulemeat. But they struggled on, more than once losing the way and givingthemselves up for lost, and on March 3, 1843, just five months fromWalla-Walla, Whitman entered Washington. His spectacular ride rivetted public attention upon the far westerncountry, and the information which he gave concerning it opened theNation's eyes to its value. When he returned, later in the year, to thebanks of the Columbia, he took back with him a train of two hundredwagons and a thousand settlers--a veritable army of occupation which theBritish could not match. Three years later, so steadily did the tidecontinue which Whitman had started, the American population had risento over ten thousand, there was never any further real uncertainty as towhom Oregon belonged, and the treaty of 1846 settled the question forall time. The new territory was soon to be the scene of a terrible tragedy. Thewhite man had brought new diseases into it, measles, fevers, and even, smallpox; they spread rapidly among the Indians, aggravated by theirimprudence and ignorance of proper treatment, and many died. The Indiansbecame convinced that the missionaries were to blame, and it is claimed, too, that the emissaries of the Hudson Bay Company urged them on. However that may have been, on the twenty-ninth of November, 1847, theIndians fell upon the missionaries and killed fifteen, of them, amongthe dead being Marcus Whitman and his wife. So ended the life of the manwho saved Oregon, and of the woman who was the first of her sex to crossthe continent. Meanwhile, far to the south, a drama scarcely less thrilling wasenacting, its chief personage being John Augustus Sutter. Sutter was aSwiss and had received a military education and served in the SwissGuard before coming to America in 1834. He settled first at St. Louisand then at Santa Fé, where he gained considerable experience as atrader. Finally, in 1838, he decided to cross the Rockies, and aftertrading for a time in a little schooner up and down the coast, waswrecked in San Francisco Bay. He made his way inland, and founded thefirst white settlement in the country on the site of what is nowSacramento. Here, in 1841, he built a fort, having secured a large grantof land from the Mexican Government, and set up what was really a littleempire in the wilderness, over which he reigned supreme. And here, threeyears later, down from the snow-filled and tempest-swept passes of theRockies, came a party of starving and frost-bitten scarecrows, theexploring expedition headed by John Charles Frémont, of whom we shallspeak presently. The rest of Sutter's history is soon told. In 1848, when Mexico cededCalifornia to the United States, he was the owner of a vast domain, overwhich thousands of head of cattle wandered. A few years later, he waspractically a ruined man--ruined by gold. On the eighteenth day ofJanuary, 1848, one of his men named Marshall, brought to Sutter a lumpof yellow metal which he had uncovered while digging a mill-race. Therecould be no doubt of it--it was gold! News of the great discovery soongot about; there was a great rush for this new Eldorado; Sutter's landwas overrun with gold-seekers, who cared nothing for his rights, andwhen he attempted to defend his titles in the courts, they were declaredinvalid, and his land was taken from him. To crown his disasters, hishomestead was destroyed by fire; finding himself ruined, without landand without money, he gave up the struggle in despair and returned east, passing his last years in poverty in a little town in Pennsylvania. Frémont, meantime, had done a great work for California. The son of aFrenchman, showing an early aptitude for mathematics, he had secured anappointment to the United States engineering corps, and, after variousminor expeditions in which he had acquitted himself well, was put incharge of an expedition for the exploration of the Rocky Mountains. Hewas fortunate at the start in securing the services as guide andinterpreter of that famous hunter and plainsman, Kit Carson, whose lifehad been passed on the prairies, who knew more Indians and Indiandialects than any other white man, and who was, to his generation, whatDavy Crockett was to an earlier one. To Carson a great share of theexpedition's success was no doubt due, and it was so successful that inthe following year, Frémont was leading another over the country betweenthe Rockies and the Pacific. This one was almost lost in the mountains, and came near perishing of cold and hunger, but, finally, in March, 1844, managed to struggle through to Sutter's Fort. Frémont found California in a state of unrest amounting almost toinsurrection against Mexican rule, and as the number of white settlersincreased, this feeling grew, until Mexico, becoming alarmed, sent anarmed force to occupy the country. The show of force was the one thingneeded to fire the magazine; the settlers sprang to arms as one man, and, under Frémont's leadership, defeated the Mexicans and drove themsouthward across the border. Soon afterwards, General Kearny marched infrom the east, from his remarkable and bloodless conquest of New Mexico, with a force sufficient to render it certain that California wouldnever again be taken by the Mexicans. On the fourth of July, 1849, Frémont was chosen governor of the newterritory, and in the following year, arranged the treaty by whichCalifornia passed permanently to the United States. The new state wasquick to reward him and sent him to the Senate, where he gainedsufficient prominence to receive the nomination of the anti-slaveryparty for the presidency in 1856. He never had any chance of election, for the reform party had not yet sufficient strength, and was defeatedby Buchanan. He served with some distinction in the Civil War, gainingconsiderable notoriety, while in charge of the Western Department in1861, by issuing a proclamation freeing the slaves of secessionists inMissouri. The proclamation drew forth some laudatory verses from John G. Whittier, but was promptly countermanded by President Lincoln. Soonafterwards, Frémont became involved in personal disputes with hissuperior officers, was relieved from active service, and the remainderof his life was spent in private enterprises. * * * * * Fremont's "pathfinding" virtually completed the exploration of thecountry. A few secluded nooks and corners became known only as the tideof immigration crept into them; but in its general features, the greatcontinent, on whose eastern shore the white man was fighting for afoothold two centuries before, was known from ocean to ocean. It hadbeen conquered and occupied by a dominant race, and won forcivilization. SUMMARY BOONE, DANIEL. Born in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, February 11, 1735;settled at Holman's Ford, North Carolina, 1748; explored Kentucky, 1769-70; founded Boonesborough, 1775; moved to Missouri, 1795; died atCharette, Missouri, September 26, 1820. KENTON, SIMON, Born in Fauquier County, Virginia, April 3, 1755; fled tothe West, 1771; ranged western country as a spy, 1776-78; with GeorgeRogers Clark's expedition, 1778; commanded a battalion of Kentuckyvolunteers under Wayne, 1793-94; brigadier-general of Ohio militia, 1805; at battle of the Thames, 1813; died in Logan County, Ohio, April29, 1836. CLARK, GEORGE ROGERS. Born in Albemarle County, Virginia, November 19, 1752; settled in Kentucky, 1775; major of militia, 1776; sent asdelegate to Virginia, 1776; second journey to Virginia, 1777; started onIllinois expedition, June 24, 1778; captured Kaskaskia, July 4, 1778;captured Vincennes, February 24, 1779; defeated Miami Indians anddestroyed villages, 1782; died near Louisville, Kentucky, February 18, 1818. PUTNAM, RUFUS. Born in Sutton, Massachusetts, April 9, 1738; served incampaigns against the French, 1757-60; superintended defenses of NewYork City, 1776; superintended construction of fortifications at WestPoint, 1778; promoted to brigadier-general, January 7, 1783; foundedMarietta, Ohio, April 7, 1788; judge of Supreme Court of NorthwestTerritory, 1789; served as brigadier-general under Wayne, 1792-93;member of Ohio Constitutional Convention, 1803; formed first Biblesociety west of the Alleghanies, 1812; died at Marietta, Ohio, May 1, 1824. LEWIS, MERIWETHER. Born near Charlottesville, Virginia, August 18, 1774;entered United States army, 1795; promoted captain, 1800; privatesecretary to President Jefferson, 1801-03; explored country west ofMississippi, 1804-06; governor of Missouri Territory, 1808; killedhimself near Nashville, Tennessee, October 8, 1809. CLARK, WILLIAM. Born in Virginia, August 1, 1770; removed to Kentucky, 1774; lieutenant of infantry, March 7, 1792; resigned from service, July, 1796; removed to St. Louis, 1796; accompanied Meriwether Lewis onwestern explorations, 1804-06; governor of Missouri Territory, 1813-21;superintendent of Indian Affairs, 1822-38; died at St. Louis, September1, 1838. PIKE, ZEBULON MONTGOMERY. Born at Lamberton, New Jersey, January 5, 1779; entered United States army, 1799; captain, 1806; conductedexploring expeditions in Louisiana Territory, 1805-07; major, 1808;colonel, 1812; brigadier-general, March 12, 1813; died in assault onYork (now Toronto), Canada, April 27, 1813. HOUSTON, SAMUEL. Born near Lexington, Virginia, March 2, 1793; served inwar of 1812; member of Congress from Tennessee, 1823-27; governor ofTennessee, 1827-29; defeated Mexicans at San Jacinto, April, 1836;President of Texas, 1836-38 and 1841-44; United States senator fromTexas, 1845-59; governor of Texas, 1859-61; died at Huntersville, Texas, July 25, 1863. CROCKETT, DAVID. Born at Limestone, Tennessee, August 17, 1786; memberof Congress, 1827-33; served in Texan war, 1835-36; killed at The Alamo, San Antonio de Bexar, Texas, March 6, 1836. BOWIE, JAMES. Born in Burke County, Georgia, about 1790; notorious induel of 1827; went to Texas, 1835; made colonel of Texan army, 1835;killed at the Alamo, March 6, 1836. TRAVIS, WILLIAM BARRETT. Born in Conecuh County, Alabama, 1811; admittedto the bar, 1830; went to Texas, 1832; killed at the Alamo, March 6, 1836. WHITMAN, MARCUS. Born in Rushville, Ontario County, New York, September4, 1802; appointed missionary to Oregon, 1834; reached Fort Walla Walla, September 2, 1836; started on ride across continent, October 3, 1842;reached Washington, March 3, 1843; took great train of emigrants back toOregon, 1843; killed by Indians at Waülatpu, Oregon, November 29, 1847. SUTTER, JOHN AUGUSTUS. Born in Kandern, Baden, February 15, 1803;graduated at military college at Berne, Switzerland, 1823; served inSwiss Guard through Spanish campaign, 1823-24; emigrated to America andsettled at St. Louis, 1834; crossed Rocky Mountains, 1838; settled inCalifornia, 1839; built fort on present site of Sacramento, 1841; golddiscovered on his ranch, January 18, 1848; homestead burned, 1864;removed to Litiz, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, 1873; died atWashington, D. C. , June 17, 1880. FRÉMONT, JOHN CHARLES. Born at Savannah, Georgia, January 21, 1813;explored South Pass, Rocky Mountains, 1842; Pacific Slope, 1843-45;took part in conquest of California, 1846-47; United States senator fromCalifornia, 1850-51; Republican candidate for presidency, 1856; FederalCommander of Department of the West, 1861; governor of Arizona, 1878-82;died at New York City, July 13, 1890. * * * * * CHAPTER VII GREAT SOLDIERS We have seen how the great crises in our country's history have producedgreat men to deal with them. We shall see now how great wars producegreat soldiers. The Revolution produced them; the Civil War producedthem. The second war with England, and the war with Spain failed toproduce them because they were too quickly ended, and without desperateneed. They served, however, to pierce certain gold-laced bubbles whichhad been strutting about the stage pretending to be great and impressingmany people with their greatness; but which were, in reality, great onlyin self-conceit, and in that colossal! So did the Revolution and theCivil War, at first, and costly work it was until the last of them hadvanished, to be replaced by men who knew how to fight; for it seems oneof the axioms of history that the fiercer your soldier is in peace, themore useless he is on a battlefield. The war with Mexico, by a fortunatechance, found a few good fighters ready at hand, and so was pushedthrough in the most brilliant way. One trembles to think how theRevolution might have begun--and ended!--but for the fact thatWashington, experienced in warfare and disdaining gold lace and emptyboasts, was, by a fortunate chance, chosen commander-in-chief. Thatchoice is our greatest debt to John and Samuel Adams. * * * * * Early in the eighteenth century, there lived in the old historic town ofSalem, Massachusetts, Joseph Putnam and his wife, Elizabeth. Theyalready had nine children, and, in 1718, a tenth was born to them andthey named him Israel, which means a soldier of God. His career wasdestined to be one of the most romantic and adventurous in Americanhistory, but none of his brothers or sisters managed to get into thelime-light of fame. Israel himself started in tamely enough as a farmer, having bought atract of five hundred acres down in Connecticut. Wild animals had beenpretty well exterminated by that time, but one old she-wolf still hadher den not far from Putnam's farm, and one night she came out andamused herself by killing sixty or seventy of his fine sheep. WhenPutnam found them stretched upon the ground next morning, a great rageseized him; he swore that that wolf should never have the chance to dosuch another night's work; he tracked her to her cave, and descendingwithout hesitation into the dark and narrow entrance, shot straightbetween the eyes he saw gleaming at him through the darkness, anddragged the carcass out into the daylight. That incident gives some ideaof Israel Putnam's temper, and what desperate things he was capable ofdoing when his blood was up. That was in 1735, and twenty years elapsed before he again appeared uponthe page of history. But in 1755 began the great war with France, andfor the next ten years, Putnam's life was fairly crowded with incident. Connecticut furnished a thousand men to resist the expected Frenchinvasion, and Putnam was put in command of a company with the rank ofcaptain. His company acted as rangers, and for two years did remarkableservice in harassing the enemy and in warning the settlers againstlurking bands of Indians, set on by the French. On more than oneoccasion, he saved his life by the closest margin. He was absolutelyfearless, and this, together with a clear head and quick eye, carriedhim safely through peril after peril, any one of which would have provedthe death of a man less resolute. He saved a party of soldiers from the Indians by steering them in abateau safely down the dangerous rapids of the Hudson; he saved FortEdward from destruction by fire at the imminent risk of his life, working undaunted although the flames were threatening, every moment, toexplode the magazine; a year later, captured by the Indians, who fearedand hated him, he was bound to a stake, after some preliminary tortures, and a pile of fagots heaped about him and set on fire. The flames weresearing his flesh, when a French officer happened to come up and rescuedhim. These are but three incidents out of a dozen such. He seemed tobear a charmed life, and any of his men would willingly have died forhim. In 1765, when he returned home after ten years of continuouscampaigning, it was with the rank of colonel, and a reputation fordaring and resourcefulness second to none in New England. Ten years of quiet followed, and Israel Putnam was fifty-seven years ofage--an age when most men consider their life work done. On theafternoon of April 20, 1775, he was engaged in hauling some stones froma field with a team of oxen, when he heard galloping hoofbeats down theroad, and looking up, saw a courier riding up full speed. The courierpaused only long enough to shout the tidings of the fight at Concord, and then spurred on again. Putnam, leaving his oxen where they stood, threw himself upon horseback, without waiting to don his uniform, and atsunrise next day, galloped into Cambridge, having travelled nearly ahundred miles! Verily there were giants in those days! He was placed in command of the Connecticut forces with the rank ofbrigadier-general, and soon afterwards was one of four major-generalsappointed by the Congress for the Continental army. For four yearsthereafter he took a conspicuous part in the war, bearing himself alwayswith characteristic gallantry. But the machine had been worn out byexcessive exertion; in 1779 he was stricken with paralysis, and the lastyears of his life were passed quietly at home. For sheer, extravagantdaring, which paused at no obstacle and trembled at no peril, he has, perhaps, never had his equal among American soldiers. Not far from West Greenwich, Connecticut, there is a steep and rockybluff, the scene of one of Putnam's most extraordinary feats, performedonly a short time before he was stricken down. An expedition, fifteenhundred strong, had been sent by the British against West Greenwich, andPutnam rallied a company to oppose the invaders, but his little forcewas soon routed and dispersed, and sought to escape across country withthe British in hot pursuit. Putnam, prominent as the leader of theAmericans, was hard pressed, and his horse, weary from a long march, wasfailing; his capture seemed certain, for the enemy gained upon himrapidly; when suddenly, he turned his horse down the steep bluff at hisside, reached the bottom in safety by some miracle, and rode away intriumph, leaving his astonished and baffled pursuers at the top, for notone dared follow him! * * * * * I have spoken of how the test of war winnows the wheat from the chaff. This was so in those days as in these, and, as an amusing proof of it, one has only to glance over the names of the generals appointed by theCongress at the same time as Putnam. Artemas Ward, Seth Pomeroy, WilliamHeath, Joseph Spencer, David Wooster, John Thomas, John Sullivan--whatcursory student of American history knows anything of them? Four othersare better remembered--Richard Montgomery, for the gallant and hopelessassault upon Quebec in which he lost his life; Charles Lee fordisobeying Washington's orders at the battle of Monmouth and provokingthe great Virginian to an historic outburst of rage; Nathanael Greenefor his masterly conduct of the war in the South; Horatio Gates, firstfor a victory over Burgoyne which he did very little to bring about, andsecond for his ill-starred attempt to supplant Washington ascommander-in-chief. Let us pause for a glance at Gates. Born in England, he had seen servicein the British army, and had been badly wounded at Braddock's defeat, but managed to escape from the field. He resigned from the army, afterthat, and settled in Virginia, where his supposed military prowess wonhim the appointment of brigadier-general at the outbreak of theRevolution. He secured command of the Northern army, which had gatheredto resist the great force which was marching south from Canada underJohn Burgoyne. He found the field already prepared by General Schuyler, a much more able officer. Stark had defeated and captured a strongdetachment at Bennington, and Herkimer had won the bloody battle ofOriskany; the British army was hemmed in by a constantly-increasingforce of Americans, and was able to drag along only a mile a day;Burgoyne and his men were disheartened and apprehensive of the future, while the Americans were exultant and confident of victory. In suchcircumstances, on September 19, 1777, was fought the first battle ofBemis Heights, a bloody and inconclusive struggle, supported wholly bythe division of Benedict Arnold, who behaved so gallantly that Gates, who had not even ridden on the field of battle, was consumed withjealousy, took Arnold's division away from him, and did not mention himin the dispatches describing the battle. The eve of the second battle found the most successful and populargeneral in the American army without a command. Gates, deeming victorycertain, thought it safe to insult Arnold, and banished him to his tent;but on October 7th, when the second struggle was in progress, Arnold, seeing the tide of battle going against his men, threw himself upon hishorse and dashed into the conflict. In a frenzy of rage, he dressed thelines, rallied his men, who cheered like mad when they saw him again attheir head, and led a charge which sent the British reeling back. Hepursued the fleeing enemy to their entrenchments, and dashed forward tostorm them, but, in the very sally-port, horse and rider felltogether--the horse dead, the rider with a shattered leg. That ended thebattle which he had virtually conducted in the most gallant mannerimaginable. Had he died then, he would have been a national hero--butanother fate awaited him! Gates had not been on the field. He had remained in his tent, ready toride away in case of defeat. He had ordered all the baggage wagonsloaded, ready to retreat, for he was by no means the kind of general whoburns his bridges behind him. His jealousy of Arnold mounted to feverheat, but that hero, lying grievously wounded in his tent, was for themoment beyond reach of his envy. Burgoyne attempted to retreat, but found it was too late. Surroundedand hemmed in on every side, he turned and turned for six days seekingvainly for some way out; but there was no escaping, the American armywas growing in numbers and confidence daily, and his own supplies wererunning short. Pride and ambition yielded at last to stern necessity andhe surrendered. Gates, believing himself a second Alexander, became so inflated withconceit that he did not even send a report of the surrender toWashington, but communicated it direct to the Congress, over the head ofhis commander-in-chief. Weak and envious, he entered heart and soul intothe plot to supplant Washington in supreme command; but his realincompetency was soon apparent, for, at the battle of Camden, makingblunder after blunder, he sent his army to disastrous defeat, and wasrecalled by the Congress, his northern laurels, as had been predicted, changed to southern willows. So blundering had been his conduct of theonly campaign that he had managed that his military career ended thenand there, and the remainder of his life was spent upon his estate inVirginia. No doubt his petty and ignoble spirit rejoiced at the downfall of thebrilliant man who had won for him his victories over Burgoyne. Let usspeak of him for a moment. In remembering Arnold the traitor, we are aptto forget Arnold the general. There is, of course, no excuse fortreason, and yet Arnold had without doubt suffered grave injustice. Hewas by nature rash to recklessness, at home on the battlefield anddelighting in danger, with a real genius for the management of a battleand a personality whose charm won him the absolute devotion of his men. But he was also proud and selfish, and these qualities caused his ruin. Let us do him justice. Two days after the battle of Concord, he hadmarched into Cambridge at the head of a company of militia which he hadcollected at New Haven; it was he who suggested the expedition againstTiconderoga and who marched into the fortress side by side with EthanAllen; it was he who led an expedition against Quebec, accomplishing oneof the most remarkable marches in history, and, after a brilliantcampaign, retreated only before overwhelming numbers; on Lake Champlainhe engaged in a naval battle, one of the most desperate ever fought byan American fleet, which turned back a British invasion and delayedBurgoyne's advance for a year; while visiting his home at New Haven, aBritish force invaded Connecticut, and Arnold, raising a force ofvolunteers, drove them back to their ships and nearly captured them;then, rejoining the northern army, he rendered the most gallant service, turned Saint Leger back from Oriskany and won virtually unaided the twobattles of Saratoga, which resulted in Burgoyne's surrender. It will be seen from this that, to the end of 1777, no man in theAmerican army had rendered his country more signal service. Indeed, there was none who even remotely approached Arnold in glory ofachievement. But from the first he had been the victim of pettypersecution, and of circumstances which kept from him the credit rightlydue him; and a cabal against him in the Congress prevented his receivinghis proper rank in the service. We have seen how Gates made no referenceto him in reporting the brilliant victory at Saratoga; and the samething had happened to him again and again. His close friendship withWashington caused the latter's enemies to do him all the harm theycould, and Arnold, disgusted at his country's ingratitude, graduallydrifted into Tory sentiments. He married the daughter of a Tory, associated largely with Tories during a winter at Philadelphia, and atlast resolved to end the war, as he thought, in favor of England bydelivering the line of the Hudson to the British. The result of thiswould be to divide the colonies in two and to render effectiveco-operation almost impossible. So he sought and obtained command of West Point in order to carry outthis purpose, began his preparations, and had all his plans laid, whenthe merest accident revealed the plot to Washington. Arnold escaped byfleeing to a British man-of-war in the river, and after a short serviceagainst his country, marked by a raid along the Virginia shore, hesailed for England, where his last years were spent in poverty andembittered by remorse. His last great act of treachery blotted out thebrilliant achievements which had gone before, and his name lives only asthat of the most infamous traitor in American history. Of the great names which come down to us from the Revolution, the onewhich seems most admirable after that of Washington himself is that ofNathanael Greene, not so much because of his military skill, althoughthat was of the highest order, as because of his pure patriotism, hislack of selfishness, and his utter devotion to the cause for which hefought. He was with Washington at Trenton, Princeton, and Monmouth, anddid much to save the army of the battle of the Brandywine. After Gates'sterrible defeat at Camden, he was put in command of the army of theSouth, and conducted the most brilliant campaign of the war, defeatingthe notorious Sir Guy Tarleton, and forcing Cornwallis north intoVirginia, where he was to be entrapped at Yorktown, and ending the warwhich had devastated the South by capturing Charleston. AfterWashington, he was perhaps the greatest general the war produced;certainly he was the purest patriot, and his name should never beforgotten by a grateful country. Linked forever with Greene in the annals of southern warfare, are threemen--Francis Marion, Thomas Sumter, and "Light Horse Harry" Lee--threetrue knights and Christian gentlemen, worthy of all honor. The first ofthese, indeed, may fairly be called the Bayard of American history, thecavalier without fear and without reproach. Born in South Carolina in1732, he had seen some service in the Cherokee war, and at once, uponnews of the fight at Lexington, raised a regiment and played animportant part in driving the British from Charleston in 1776--avictory so decisive that the southern states were freed from attack forover two years. After the crushing defeat of Gates at Camden Marion's little band wasthe only patriot force in South Carolina, but he harassed the British soeffectively that he soon became genuinely feared. No one ever knew wherehe would attack, for the swiftness of his movements seemed almostsuperhuman. No hardship disturbed him; he endured heat and cold withindifference; his food was of the simplest. Every school-boy knows thestory of how, inviting a British officer to dinner, he sat downtranquilly before a log on which were a few baked potatoes, which formedthe whole meal, and how the Englishman went away with the convictionthat such a foe as that could never be conquered. No instance ofrapacity or cruelty was ever charged against him, nor did he ever injureany woman or child. As a partisan leader, Sumter was second only to Marion, and for twoyears the patriot fortunes in the South were in their hands. Togetherthey joined Greene when he took charge of the southern army, and provedinvaluable allies. Sumter lived to the great age of ninety-eight, andwas the last surviving general officer of the Revolution. He was, too, the last survivor of the Braddock expedition, which he had accompaniedat the age of twenty-one, and which had been cut to pieces on theMonongahela twenty years before the battle of Lexington was fought. "Light Horse Harry" Lee, whose "Legion" won such fame in the earlyyears of the Revolution and whose services with Greene in the South wereof the most brilliant character, also lived well into the nineteenthcentury. It was he who, in 1799, appointed by Congress to deliver anaddress in commemoration of Washington, uttered the famous phrase, "First in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen. "His son, Robert Edward Lee, was destined to become perhaps the greatestgeneral in our history. * * * * * So passed the era of the Revolution, and for thirty years the newcountry was called upon to face no foreign foe; but pressing upon herfrontier was an enemy strong and cruel, who knew not the meaning of theword "peace. " Set on by the British during the Revolution, the Indianscontinued their warfare long after peace had been declared. In thewilderness north of the Ohio they had their villages, from which theyissued time after time to attack the white settlements to the south andeast. No one knew when or where they would strike, and every village andhamlet along the frontier was liable to attack at any time. The farmertilling his fields was shot from ambush; the hunter found himselfhunted; children were carried away to captivity, and women, looking upfrom their household work, found an Indian on the threshold. The land which the Indians held was so beautiful and fertile thatsettlers ventured into it, despite the deadly peril, and in 1787, theNorthwest Territory was formed by Congress, and General Arthur St. Clair appointed its governor. A Scotchman, brave but impulsive, with agood military training, St. Clair had made an unfortunate record in theRevolution. Put in command of the defenses of Ticonderoga in the summerof 1777, to hold it against the advancing British army under Burgoyne, he had permitted the enemy to secure possession of a position whichcommanded the fort, and he was forced to abandon it. The British startedin hot pursuit, and several actions took place in which the Americanslost their baggage and a number of men. St. Clair had really been placedin an impossible position, but his forced abandonment of the fortimpressed the public very unfavorably. He still had the confidence ofWashington, who assigned him to the important task of governing the newNorthwest Territory, and subduing the Indians who overran it. WithBraddock's bitter experience still vividly before him, Washington warnedSt. Clair to beware of a surprise in any expedition he might leadagainst the Indians, and the events which followed showed how badly thatwarning was needed. In the fall of 1791, St. Clair collected a large force at FortWashington, on the site of the present city of Cincinnati, and preparedto advance against the Miami Indians. He had fourteen hundred men, buthe himself was suffering with gout and had to be conveyed most of theway in a hammock. By the beginning of November, the army had reached theneighborhood of the Miami villages, and there, on the morning of thefourth, was surprised, routed and cut to pieces. Less than five hundredescaped from the field, the Indians spreading along the road andshooting down the crazed fugitives at leisure. St. Clair's militaryreputation had received its death blow, but Washington, with wonderfulforbearance, permitted him to retain the governorship of the Territory, from which he was removed by Jefferson in 1802. He lived sixteen yearslonger, poor and destitute, having used his own fortune to defray theexpenses of his troops in the Revolution--a debt which, to the lastingdisgrace of the government, it neglected to cancel. He grew old andfeeble, and was thrown from a wagon, one day, and killed. Upon thelittle stone which marks his grave is this inscription: "The earthlyremains of Major-General Arthur St. Clair are deposited beneath thishumble monument, which is erected to supply the place of a nobler onedue from his country. " The task which proved St. Clair's ruin was to be accomplished by anothersurvivor of the Revolution--"Mad" Anthony Wayne; "Mad" because of hisfury in battle, the fierceness of his charge, and his recklessness ofdanger--attributes which he shared with Benedict Arnold. He was thirtyyears of age at the opening of the Revolution, handsome, full of fire, and hungering for glory. He was to win his full share of it, and toprove himself, next to Washington and Greene, the best general in thearmy. His favorite weapon was the bayonet, and he drilled his troops in theuse of it until they were able to withstand the shock of the renownedBritish infantry, who have always prided themselves on their prowesswith cold steel. His first service was with Arnold in Canada; he waswith Washington at the Brandywine; and at Germantown, hurling his troopsupon the Hessians, he drove them back at the point of the bayonet, andretreated only under orders when the general attack failed. At Monmouth, it was he and his men who, standing firm as a rock, repulsed the firstfierce bayonet charge of the British guards and grenadiers. So it is not remarkable that, when Washington found an unusuallyhazardous piece of work in hand, he should have selected Wayne to carryit through. The British held a strong fort called Stony Point, whichcommanded the Hudson and which Washington was anxious to capture. It wasimpossible to besiege it, since British frigates held the river, and itwas so strong that an open assault could never carry it. It stood on arocky promontory, surrounded on three sides by water and connected withthe land only by a narrow, swampy neck. The only chance to take theplace was by a night attack, and Wayne eagerly welcomed the opportunityto try it. On the afternoon of July 15, 1779, Wayne, at the head of about thirteenhundred men, started for the fort. He arrived near it after nightfall, and dividing his force into three columns, moved forward to the attack. He relied wholly upon the bayonet, and not a musket was loaded. Theadvance was soon discovered by the British sentries, and a heavy fireopened upon the Americans, but they pressed forward, swarmed up thelong, sloping embankment of the fort, and in a moment were over thewalls. A bullet struck Wayne in the head, and he staggered and fell. Two of hisofficers caught him up and started to take him to the rear, but hestruggled to his feet. "No, no, " he cried, "I'm going in at the head of my men! Take me in atthe head of my men!" And at the head of his men he was carried into the fort. For a few moments, the bayonets flashed and played, then the Britishbroke and ran, and the fort was won. No night attack was ever deliveredwith greater skill and boldness. Wayne soon recovered from his wound, and took an active part in drivingCornwallis into the trap at Yorktown. Then he had retired from the army, expecting to spend the remainder of his life in peace; but Washington, remembering the man, knew that he was the one above all others to teachthe Ohio Indians a lesson, and called him to the work. Wayne acceptedthe task, and five thousand men were placed under his command andstarted westward over the mountains. He spent the winter in organizing and drilling his forces on the bank ofthe Ohio where Cincinnati now stands, but which was then merely a fortand huddle of houses. He made the most careful preparations for theexpedition, and early in the spring, he commenced his march northwardinto the Indian country. The savages gathered to repulse him at a spoton the Maumee where, years before, a tornado had cut a wide swaththrough the forest, rendering it all but impenetrable. Here, on thetwentieth of August, 1794, he advanced against the enemy, and, throwinghis troops into the "Fallen Timbers, " in which the Indians wereambushed, routed them out, cut them down, and administered a defeat socrushing that they could not rally from it, and their whole country waslaid waste with fire and sword. Wayne did his work well, burning theirvillages, and destroying their crops, so that they would have no meansof sustenance during the coming winter. Thoroughly cowed by thistreatment, the Indians sued for peace, and at Greenville, nearly a yearlater, Wayne made a treaty in which twelve tribes took part. It markedthe beginning of a lasting peace, which opened the "Old Northwest" tothe white settler. * * * * * No soldier of the Revolution, with the exception of Washington, waselevated to the presidency, nor did any of them attain an exalted placein the councils of the Nation. Statecraft and military genius rarely gohand in hand, and it was not until 1828 that a man whose reputation hadbeen made chiefly on the battlefield was sent to the White House. AndrewJackson was the only soldier, with one exception, who came out of theWar of 1812 with any great reputation, and it is only fair to add thathis victory at New Orleans was due more to the rashness of the Britishin advancing to a frontal attack against a force of entrenchedsharpshooters than to any remarkable generalship on the American side. The war with Mexico found two able generals ready to hand, and laid thefoundations of the reputations of many more. "Old Rough and Ready"Zachary Taylor, who commanded during the campaign which ended with thebrilliant victory at Buena Vista, had been tested in the fire offrontier warfare, and won the presidency in 1848; and Franklin Pierce, who commanded one of the divisions which captured the City of Mexico, won the same prize four years later. It was in this war that Grant, Lee, Johnston, Davis, Meade, Hooker, Thomas, Sherman, and a score of otherswho were to win fame fifteen years later, got their baptism of fire. Their history belongs to the period of the Civil War and will be toldthere; but the chief military glory of the war with Mexico centres abouta man who divided the honors of the War of 1812 with Andrew Jackson butwho failed to achieve the presidency, and whose usefulness had endedbefore the Civil War began--Winfield Scott. A Virginian, born in 1786, Scott entered the army at an early age, andhad reached the rank of lieutenant-colonel at the opening of the secondwar with England. Two years later, he was made a brigadier-general, andcommanded at the fierce and successful battles of Chippewa and Lundy'sLane. At the close of the war, he was made a major-general, and receivedthe thanks of Congress for his services. In 1841, he becamecommander-in-chief of the armies of the United States; but, at theopening of the war with Mexico, President Polk, actuated by partisanjealousy, kept Scott in Washington and assigned Zachary Taylor to thecommand of the armies in the field. Scott had already an enviablereputation, and had been an aspirant for the presidency, and Polk fearedthat a few victories would make him an invincible candidate. Perhaps hewas afraid that Scott would develop into another Andrew Jackson. However, it was impossible to keep the commander-in-chief of the armyinactive while a great war was in progress, and early in 1847, he wassent to the front, and on March 9 began one of the most successful andbrilliant military campaigns in history. Landing before Vera Cruz, hecaptured that city after a bombardment of twenty days, and, gatheringhis army together, started on an overland march for the capital ofMexico. Santa Anna, with a great force, awaited him in a strong positionat Cerro Gordo, but Scott seized the key of it in a lofty heightcommanding the Mexican position, and soon won a decisive victory. TheAmerican army swept on like a tidal wave, and city after city fellbefore it, until, on the twentieth of August, it reached the city of theMontezumas. An armistice delayed the advance until September 7, but onthat day offensive operations were begun. Great fortifications stronglymanned guarded the town, but they were carried one after another byassault, and on September 14, General Scott marched at the head of hisarmy through the city gates. The war was ended--a war in which theAmericans had not lost a single battle, and had gained a vast empire. General Scott came out of the war with a tremendous reputation; but helacked personal magnetism. A certain stateliness and dignity kept peopleat a distance, and, together with an exacting discipline, won him thesobriquet of "Old Fuss and Feathers. " In 1852, he was the candidate ofthe Whig party for President; but the party was falling to pieces, hehimself had no great personal following, and he was defeated by theDemocratic candidate, one of his own generals, Franklin Pierce. Heremained in command of the army until the outbreak of the Civil War. Ageand infirmities prevented his taking the field, and after the disastrousdefeat at Bull Run, he resigned the command. General Scott was renownedfor his striking physique, more majestic, perhaps, even than that ofWashington. He has, indeed, been called the most imposing general inhistory. * * * * * With General Scott ends another era of our history, and we come to aconsideration of the soldiers made famous by the greatest war of thenineteenth century--the civil conflict which threatened, for a time, todisrupt the Union. It was a war waged on both sides with desperatecourage and tenacity, and it developed a number of commanders not, perhaps, of the very first rank, but standing high in the second. The first real success of the war was won by George B. McClellan. Agraduate of West Point, veteran of the war with Mexico, and militaryobserver of the war in the Crimea, he had resigned from the army in 1857to engage in the railroad business, with headquarters at Cincinnati. Atthe opening of the war, he was commissioned major-general, and put incommand of the Department of Ohio. His first work was to clear westernVirginia of Confederates, which he did in a series of successfulskirmishes, lasting but a few weeks. He lost only eight men, while theConfederates lost sixteen hundred, besides over a thousand takenprisoners. The achievement was of the first importance, since it savedfor the Union the western section of Virginia which, a year later, wasadmitted as a separate state. It is worth remembering that in thiscampaign, McClellan's opponent was no less a personage than Robert E. Lee. The success was the greater as contrasted with the disaster at Bull Run, and in August, 1861, McClellan was placed in command of the Army of thePotomac, gathered about Washington and still discouraged anddisorganized from that defeat and rout. His military training had beenof the most thorough description, especially upon the technical side, and no better man could have been found for the task of whipping thatgreat army into shape. He soon proved his fitness for the work, and fourmonths later, he had under him a trained and disciplined force, theequal of any that ever trod American soil. He forged the instrumentwhich, in the end, a stronger man than he was to use. Let that alwaysbe remembered to his credit. He had become a sort of popular hero, idolized by his soldiers, for hepossessed in greater degree than any other commander at the North thatpersonal magnetism which wins men. But it was soon evident that helacked those qualities of aggressiveness, energy, and initiativeessential to a great commander; that he was unduly cautious. He seems tohave habitually over-estimated the strength of the enemy andunder-estimated his own. With this habit of mind, it was certain that hewould never suffer a great defeat; but it was also probable that hewould never win a great victory, and a great victory was just what theNorth hungered for to wipe out the disgrace of Bull Run. Not for eightmonths was he ready to begin the campaign against Richmond, and it endedin heavy loss and final retreat, partly because of McClellan'sincapacity and partly because of ignorant interference with his plans onthe part of politicians at Washington. For it must be remembered thatMcClellan was a Democrat, and soon became the natural leader of thatparty at the North--a fact which seemed little less than treason to manyof the political managers at the Capital. One great and successful battle he fought, however, at Antietam, checking Lee's attempt to invade the North and sending him in fullretreat back to Virginia, but his failure to pursue the retreating armyexasperated the President, and he was removed from command of the armyon November 7, 1862. This closed his career as a soldier. In the lightof succeeding events, it cannot be doubted that his removal was aserious mistake. All in all, he was the ablest commander the Army of thePotomac ever had; he was a growing man; a little more experience in thefield would probably have cured him of over-timidity, and made him agreat soldier. General Grant summed the matter up admirably when hesaid, "The test applied to him would be terrible to any man, being madea major-general at the beginning of the war. If he did not succeed, itwas because the conditions of success were so trying. If he had foughthis way along and up, I have no reason to suppose that he would not havewon as high distinction as any of us. " In 1864, McClellan was thenominee of the Democratic party for the presidency, but received onlytwenty-one electoral votes. The command of the Army of the Potomac passed to Ambrose E. Burnside, who had won some successes early in the war, but who had protested hisunfitness for a great command, and who was soon to prove it. He led thearmy after Lee, found him entrenched on the heights back ofFredericksburg, and hurled division after division against animpregnable position, until twelve thousand men lay dead and wounded onthe field. Burnside, half-crazed with anguish at his fatal mistake, offered his resignation, which was at once accepted. "Fighting Joe" Hooker succeeded him, and was soon to demonstrate thathe, too, was unfitted for the great task. Early in May, believing Lee'sarmy to be in retreat, he attacked it at Chancellorsville, only to bedefeated with a loss of seventeen thousand men. At the beginning of thebattle, Hooker had enjoyed every advantage of position, and his armyoutnumbered Lee's; but he sacrificed his position, with unaccountablestupidity, moving from a high position to a lower one, provoking theprotest from Meade that, if the army could not hold the top of a hill, it certainly could not hold the bottom of it; and he seemed unable touse his men to advantage, holding one division in idleness while anotherwas being cut to pieces. It is, perhaps, sufficient comment upon the folly of dismissingMcClellan to point out that within seven months of his retirement, theArmy of the Potomac, which had been the finest fighting-machine inexistence on the continent, had lost thirty thousand men on the fieldand thousands more by desertion, and had been converted from a confidentand well-disciplined force into a discouraged and disorganized rabble. * * * * * Meanwhile a new star had arisen in the West in the person of U. S. Grant--"Unconditional Surrender" Grant, as he was called, after hiscapture of Fort Donelson--the event which riveted the eyes of the Nationupon him and which marked the beginning of his meteor-like advancement. We have already spoken of Grant as President, and of his unfitnessfor that high office. There are also many who dispute his ability asa commander, who point out that his army always outnumbered that opposedto him, and who claim that his victories were won by brute force and notby military skill. That there is some truth in this nobody can deny, andyet his campaign against Vicksburg was one of the most brilliant in thisor any other war. It might be added, too, that it takes something morethan preponderance of numbers to win a battle--as Hooker showed atChancellorsville--and that Grant did win a great many. [Illustration: GRANT] The truth about Grant is that he was utterly lacking in that personalmagnetism which made McClellan, Sheridan and "Stonewall" Jacksonidolized by their men, and which is essential to a great commander. Hewas cold, reserved, and silent, repelled rather than attracted. Hesucceeded mainly because he was determined to succeed, and hung on withbull-dog tenacity until he had worn his opponent out. Not till then didhe stop to take stock of his own injuries. "I propose to fight it out onthis line, if it takes all summer, " was a characteristic utterance. The honors of Union victories were fairly divided with Grant by WilliamTecumseh Sherman, a man who, as a general, was greater in some respectsthan his chief. Sherman was an Ohioan, and, after graduating from WestPoint and serving in California during the war with Mexico, resignedfrom the army to seek more lucrative employment. He was given aregiment when the war opened, and his advance was rapid. He first showedhis real worth at the battle of Shiloh, where he commanded a divisionand by superb fighting, saved Grant's reputation. Grant had collected an army of forty thousand men at Pittsburg Landing, an obscure stopping-place in southern Tennessee for Mississippi boats, and though he knew that the Confederates were gathering at Corinth, twenty miles away, he left his army entirely exposed, throwing up not asingle breastwork, never dreaming that the enemy would dare attack him. Nevertheless, they did attack, while Grant himself was miles away fromhis army, and by the end of the first day's fighting, had succeeded inpushing the Union forces back upon the river, in a cramped and dangerousposition. The action was resumed next day, and the Confederates forcedto retire, which they did in good order. That the Union army was notdisastrously defeated was due largely to the superb leadership ofSherman, who had three horses shot under him and was twice wounded, butwhose demeanor was so cool and inspiring that his raw troops, notrealizing their peril, were filled with confidence and fought likeveterans. Sherman's fame increased rapidly after that. When Grant departed for theEast to take command of the Army of the Potomac, he planned for Shermana campaign against Atlanta, Georgia--a campaign which Sherman carriedout in the most masterly manner, marching into Atlanta in triumph onSeptember 2, 1864. The campaign had cost him thirty-two thousand men, but the Confederate loss had been much heavier, and in Atlanta theConfederacy lost one of its citadels. It was especially valuable becauseof the great machine shops located there, and these Sherman proceeded todestroy before starting on his famous "march to the sea. " This, the most spectacular movement of the whole war, was planned bySherman, who secured Grant's permission to carry it out, and the startwas made on the fifteenth of November. The army marched by four roads, as nearly parallel as could be found, starting at seven o'clock everymorning and covering fifteen miles every day. All railroads and otherproperty that might aid the Confederates were destroyed, the soldierswere allowed to forage freely, and in consequence a swath of destructionsixty miles wide and three hundred miles long was cut right across theConfederacy. A locust would have had difficulty in finding anything toeat after the army had passed. It encountered no effective resistance, and by the middle of December, came within sight of the sea. On December 21, Sherman entered Savannah, and wired Lincoln that hepresented him the city as a Christmas gift. Then he turned northward tojoin Grant, taking Columbia, Fayetteville, Goldsboro and Raleigh, anddestroying Confederate arsenals, foundries, railroads and public worksof all descriptions. Lee had surrendered four days before Shermanmarched into Raleigh, and the next day a flag of truce from GeneralJoseph E. Johnston opened negotiations for the surrender of his army. This, the virtual close of the Civil War, ended Sherman's career in thefield. In 1866, he was made lieutenant-general, and three years latersucceeded Grant as commander-in-chief of the army, retiring from theservice in 1884, at the age of sixty-four. Whatever may have been the relative merits of Grant and Sherman ascommanders, there can be no question as to the greatest cavalry leaderin the Union armies, and one of the greatest in any army, Philip HenrySheridan. Above any cavalry leader, North or South, except "Stonewall"Jackson, Sheridan possessed the power of rousing his men to the utmostpitch of enthusiastic devotion; young, dashing and intrepid himself, hismen were ready to follow him anywhere--and it was usually to victorythat he led them. Sheridan was a West Pointer, graduating in 1853, and was appointedcaptain at the outbreak of the war. It was not until May of 1862 that hefound his real place as colonel of cavalry, and not until the first daysof the following year that he had the opportunity to distinguishhimself. Then, at the battle of Murfreesboro, he broke through theadvancing Confederate line which was crumpling up the right of the Unionarmy, and turned the tide of battle from defeat to victory. As a reward, he was appointed major-general of volunteers. In April, 1864, he becamecommander of the cavalry corps of the Army of the Potomac, and threemonths later made his famous raid along the valley of the Shenandoah. Entering the valley with an army of forty thousand men, Sheridan sweptEarly and a Confederate force out of it, and then, to render impossibleany Confederate raids thereafter with the valley as a base, rode fromend to end of it, destroying everything that would support an army. Early, meanwhile, had been reinforced, and, one misty morning, fell uponthe Federals while they lay encamped at Cedar Creek. The surprise wascomplete, and in a short time the Union army was in full flight. Sheridan had been called to Washington, and on the morning of the battlewas at Winchester, some twenty miles away. In the early dawn, he heardthe rumble of the cannonade, and, springing to horse, galloped to thebattlefield, to meet his men retreating. "Face about, boys! face about!" he shouted, riding up and down thelines; and his men saw him, and burst into a cheer, and reformed theirlines, and, catching his spirit of victory, led by their lovedcommander, fell upon Early, routed him and practically destroyed hisarmy. Perhaps nowhere else in history is there an instance such asthis--of a general meeting his army in full retreat, stopping the panic, facing them about, and leading them to victory. In the last campaign against Richmond, Sheridan's services were ofinestimable value; it was he who defeated a great Confederate force atthe brilliant battle of Five Forks; it was he who got in front of Lee'sretreating army and cornered it at Appomattox. He had his full share ofhonors, succeeding Sherman as general-in-chief of the army in 1883, andreceiving the rank of general from Congress, just before his death fiveyears later. Grant, Sherman and Sheridan are the only men in thecountry's history who have held this highest of military titles. * * * * * After these three men, George H. Thomas was the most prominent commanderon the Union side; notable, too, from the fact that he was a Virginian, and was considered a traitor by his native state for his adherence tothe Union cause, just as poor old Winfield Scott had been. He had madesomething of a name for himself before the Civil War opened, distinguishing himself in the war with Mexico and winning brevets forgallantry at the battles of Monterey and Buena Vista. He won a decisivevictory at Mill Springs early in 1862, and saved the army from rout atMurfreesboro by his heroic holding of the centre. But his most famousexploit was the defence of Horseshoe ridge, against overwhelming odds, at the battle of Chickamauga. The Union right wing had been routed, and the Confederates, certain of agreat victory, turned against the left wing, twenty-five thousandstrong, under command of Thomas. They swarmed up the slope on whichThomas had taken his position, only to be hurled back with heavy loss. Again and again they charged, sixty thousand of them, but Thomas stoodlike a rock against which the Confederates dashed themselves in vain. For six hours that terrific fighting continued, until nearly half ofThomas's men lay dead or wounded, but night found him still master ofthe position, saving the Union army from destruction. Ever afterwardsThomas was known as "The Rock of Chickamauga. " In the following year, he again distinguished himself by defeating Hoodat Nashville, in one of the most brilliant battles of the war. Thedefeat was the most decisive by either side in a general engagement, theConfederate army losing half its numbers, and being so routed anddemoralized that it could not rally and was practically destroyed. Thomas's plan of battle is studied to this day in the military schoolsof Europe, and has been compared with that of Napoleon at Austerlitz. After Grant, Sherman, Sheridan and Thomas, there is a wide gap. No othercommanders on the Union side measured up to them, although there weremany of great ability. McPherson, Buell, Sumner, Hancock, Meade, Rosecrans, Kilpatrick, Pope--all had their hours of triumph, but none ofthem developed into what could be called a great commander. Whether frominherent weakness, or from lack of opportunity for development, allstopped short of greatness. It is worth noting that every famousgeneral, Union or Confederate, and most of the merely prominent ones, were graduates of West Point and had received their baptism of fire inMexico, the only exception being Sheridan, who did not graduate fromWest Point until after the war with Mexico was over. * * * * * Turning now to the Confederate side, we find here, too, four supremelyable commanders, the first of whom, Robert E. Lee, is believed by manyto be the greatest in our country's history. No doubt some of the renownwhich attaches to Lee's name is due to his desperate championship of alost cause, and to the love which the people of the South bore, andstill bear, him because of his singularly sweet and unselfish character. But, sentiment aside, and looking at him only as a soldier, he must begiven a place in the front rank of our greatest captains. There are notmore than two or three to rank with him--certainly there is none to rankahead of him. Robert Edward Lee was a son of that famous "Light Horse Harry" Lee towhose exploits during the Revolution we have already referred. He wasborn in Westmoreland County, Virginia, in 1807, entered West Point atthe age of eighteen, and graduated four years later, second in hisclass. His father had died ten years before, and his mother lived onlylong enough to welcome him home from the Academy. He was at onceassigned to the engineer corps of the army, distinguished himself in thewar with Mexico and served as superintendent of West Point from 1852 to1855. Meanwhile, at the age of twenty-four, he had married Mary Randolph, daughter of Washington Parke Custis, of Arlington, andgreat-grand-daughter of George Washington's wife. Miss Custis was agreat heiress, and in time the estate of Arlington, situated on theheights across the Potomac from Washington, became hers and herhusband's, but he nevertheless continued in the service. The marriagewas a happy and fortunate one in every way, and Lee's home life wasthroughout a source of help and inspiration to him. In the autumn of 1859, while home on leave, he was ordered to assist incapturing John Brown, who had taken Harper's Ferry. At the head of acompany of marines, he took Brown prisoner and, protecting him from amob which would have lynched him, handed him over to the authorities. Two years later came the great trial of his life, when he was calledupon to decide between North and South, between Virginia and the Union. Lee was not a believer in slavery; he had never owned slaves, and whenCustis died in 1859, Lee had carried out the dead man's desire that allthe slaves at Arlington should be freed. Neither was he a believer insecession; but, on the other hand, he questioned the North's right toinvade and coerce the seceding states, and when Virginia joined them, and made him commander-in-chief of her army, he accepted the trust. Shortly before, at the instance of his fellow-Virginian, General Scott, he had been offered command of the Union army, but declined it, statingthat, though opposed to secession and deprecating war, he could take nopart in an invasion of the southern states. Curiously enough, the southern press, which was to end by idolizing him, began by abusing him. His first campaign was in western Virginia and wasa woeful failure, due partly to the splendid way in which McClellan, onthe Union side, managed it, and partly to blunders on the Confederateside for which Lee was in no way responsible; but the result was thatthat section of the state was lost to the Confederacy forever, and Leegot the blame. Even his friends feared that he had been over-rated, andhe was sent away from the field of active hostilities to the far South, where he was assigned to command Florida, Georgia and South Carolina. Heaccepted the assignment without comment, and went to work immediatelyfortifying the coast, to such good purpose that his reputation was soonagain firmly established. Early in 1862, he was recalled to Richmond toassist in its defense. He found his beautiful estate on the heightsopposite Washington confiscated, his family exiled, his fortune gone. General Joseph E. Johnston was in command of the forces at Richmond, andwas preparing to meet McClellan, who was slowly advancing up thepeninsula. But Johnston was wounded at the battle of Seven Pines, on May31, and on the following day, Lee assumed command of the army. He got itwell in hand at once, sent Stuart on a raid around McClellan's lines, and gradually forced the Union army away from Richmond, until thecapital of the Confederacy was no longer in danger. Flushed withsuccess, Lee threw his army to the northeast against Pope, routed him, crossed the Potomac into Maryland, threatened Washington, and carriedthe war with a vengeance into the enemy's country. A more completereversal of conditions could not be imagined; a month before, he hadbeen engaged in a seemingly desperate effort to save Richmond; now hehad started upon an invasion of the North which promised seriousresults. But things did not turn out as he expected. The inhabitants of Marylanddid not rally to him, McClellan was soon after him with a great army, and on September 17, overtook him at Antietam, and fought a desperatebattle; from which Lee, overwhelmed by an army half again as large ashis own, was forced to withdraw defeated, though in good order, andrecross the Potomac into Virginia. Three months later, he got hisrevenge in full measure at Fredericksburg, routing Burnside with fearfulloss, and early in May of the following year scored heavily again bydefeating Hooker at Chancellorsville. The last victory was adearly-bought one, for it cost the life of that most famous of allAmerican cavalry leaders, "Stonewall" Jackson, of whom we shall speakhereafter. That was the culmination of Lee's career, for two months afterChancellorsville, having started on another great invasion of the North, on the fourth day of July, 1863, he was forced to retire from the fiercebattle of Gettysburg with his army seriously crippled and with all hopeof invading the North at an end. He was on the defensive, after that, with Grant's great army gradually closing in upon him and drawing nearerand nearer to Richmond. That he was able to prolong this struggle fornearly two years, especially considering the exhausted state of theSouth, was remarkable to the last degree, eloquent testimony to the highorder of his leadership. Toward the last, his men were in rags andpractically starving, but there was no murmuring so long as theirbeloved "Marse Robert" was with them. On the ninth day of April, 1865, six days after the fall of Richmond, Lee found himself surrounded at Appomattox Courthouse by a vastlysuperior force under General Grant. To have fought would have meant auseless waste of human life. Lee chose the braver and harder course, andsurrendered. He knew that there could be but one end to the struggle, and he was brave enough to admit defeat. On that occasion, Grant rose tothe full stature of a hero. He treated his conquered foe with everycourtesy; granted terms whose liberality was afterwards sharplycriticised by the clique in control of Congress, but which Grantinsisted should be carried out to the letter; sent the rations of hisown army to the starving Confederates, and permitted them to retaintheir horses in order that they might get home, and have some means ofearning a livelihood. [Illustration: LEE] When Lee rode back to his army, it was to be surrounded by his raggedsoldiers, who could not believe that the end had come, who were ready tokeep on fighting, and who broke down and sobbed like children whenthey learned the truth. The next day, he issued an address to his army, a dignified and worthy composition, which is still treasured in many asouthern home; and then, mounting his faithful horse, Traveller, whichhad carried him through the war, he rode slowly away to Richmond. He wasgreeted everywhere with the wildest enthusiasm, and found himself then, as he has ever since remained, the idol and chosen hero of the southernpeople, who saw in him a unique and splendid embodiment of valor andvirtue, second only to the first and greatest of all Virginians, andeven surpassing him in the subtle qualities of the heart. As has been said, his fortune was gone, and it was necessary for him toearn a living. The opportunity soon came in the offer of the presidencyof Washington College, at Lexington, where the remainder of his dayswere spent in honored quiet. Those five years of warfare, with theirhardships and exposures, had brought on rheumatism of the heart, and theend came on October 12, 1870. He died dreaming of battle, and his lastwords were, "Tell Hill he _must_ come up!" Next to Lee in the hearts of the Southern soldiers was Thomas JonathanJackson, better known by the sobriquet of "Stonewall, " which General Beegave him during the first battle of Bull Run. Driven back by the Uniononset, the Confederate left had retreated a mile or more, when itreached the plateau where Jackson and his brigade were stationed. Thebrigade never wavered, but stood fast and held the position. "See there!" shouted General Bee, "Jackson is standing like a stonewall. Rally on the Virginians!" Rally they did, and Jackson was ever thereafter known as "Stonewall. " It was a good name, as representing not only his qualities of physicalcourage, but also his qualities of moral courage. There was somethingrock-like and immovable about him, even in his everyday affairs, and so"Stonewall" he remained. In some respects Stonewall Jackson was the most remarkable man whom thewar made famous. A graduate of West Point, he had served through theMexican war, and then, finding the army not to his liking, had resignedfrom the service to accept a professorship at the Virginia MilitaryInstitute. He made few friends, for he was of a silent and reserveddisposition, and besides, he conducted a Sunday school for coloredchildren. It is a fact worth noting that neither of the two greatleaders of the Confederate armies believed in slavery, the one thingwhich they were fighting to defend. So Jackson's neighbors merelythought him queer, and left him to himself; certainly, none suspectedthat he was a genius. Yet a genius he was, and proved it. Enlisting as soon as the war began, and distinguishing himself, as we have seen, by holding back the Unioncharge at Bull Run, he was made a major-general after that battle, anda year later probably saved Richmond from capture by preventing thearmies of Banks and McDowell from operating with McClellan, making oneof the most brilliant campaigns of the war, overwhelming both hisantagonists, and, leaving them stunned behind him, hastening to Richmondto assist Lee, arriving just in time to turn the tide of battle atGaines Mills. As soon as McClellan had been beaten back from Richmond, Jacksonreturned to the Shenandoah valley, defeated Banks at Cedar Run, seizedPope's depot at Manassas, and held him on the ground until Lee came up, when Pope was defeated at the second battle of Bull Run. Two weekslater, Jackson captured Harper's Ferry, with thirteen thousandprisoners, seventy cannon, and a great quantity of stores; commanded theleft wing of the Confederate army at Antietam, against which the corpsof Hooker, Mansfield and Sumner hurled themselves in vain; and atFredericksburg commanded the right wing, which repelled the attack ofFranklin's division. These remarkable successes had established Jackson's reputation as acommander of unusual merit; he was promoted to lieutenant-general, andLee came to rely upon him more and more. He had, too, by a certain highcourage and charm of character, won the complete devotion of his men; tosay that they loved him, that any one of them would have laid down hislife for him, is but the simple truth. No other leader in the whole war, with the exception of Lee, who dwelt in a region high and apart, wasidolized as he was. But his career was nearly ended, and, by the bitterirony of fate, he was to be killed by the very men who loved him. On the second day of May, 1863, Lee sent him on a long flanking movementaround Hooker's army at Chancellorsville. Emerging from the woodstowards evening, he surprised and routed Howard's corps, and betweeneight and nine o'clock rode forward with a small party beyond his ownlines to reconnoitre the enemy's position. As he turned to ride back, his party was mistaken for Federal cavalrymen and a volley poured intoit by a Confederate outpost. Several of the party were killed, andJackson received three wounds. They were not in themselves fatal, butpneumonia followed, and death came eight days later. There was none to fill his place--it was as though Lee had lost hisright arm. The result of the war would have been in no way different hadhe lived, but his death was an incalculable loss to the Confederacy. Itwas Lee's opinion that he would have won the battle of Gettysburg had hehad Jackson with him, and this is more than probable, so evenly didvictory and defeat hang in the balance there. But, even then, the Northwould have been far from conquered, and its superior resources andlarger armies must have won in the end. Perhaps, after all, Jackson'sdeath was, in a way, a blessing, since it shortened a struggle which, inany event, could have had but one result. Another heavy loss which the Confederacy suffered even earlier in thewar was that of Albert Sidney Johnston, killed at the battle of Shiloh. Jefferson Davis said the cause of the South was lost when Johnston fell, but this was, of course, only a manner of speaking, for Johnston couldnot have saved it. Johnston had an adventurous career and saw a greatdeal of fighting before the Civil War began. Graduating at West Point in1826, he served as chief of staff to General Atkinson during the BlackHawk war, and then, joining the Texan revolutionists, served first as aprivate and then as commander of the Texan army. He commanded a regimentin the war with Mexico, and in 1857, led a successful expedition againstthe rebellious Mormons in Utah. His training, then, and an experience greater than any other commanderin the Civil War started out with, fitted him for brilliant work fromthe very first. At the outbreak of the war, he was put by theConfederate government in command of the departments of Kentucky andTennessee, and on April 6, 1862, swept down upon Grant's unprotectedarmy at Shiloh. That battle might have ended in a disastrous defeat forthe North but for the accident which deprived the Confederates of theircommander. About the middle of the afternoon, while leading his menforward to the attack which was pressing the Federals back upon theriver, he was struck by a bullet which severed an artery in the thigh. The wound was not a fatal, nor even a very serious one, and his lifecould have been saved had it been given immediate attention. ButJohnston, carried away by the prospect of impending victory and theexcitement of the fight, continued in the saddle cheering on his men, his life-blood pulsing away unheeded, until he sank unconscious into thearms of one of his officers. He was lifted to the ground and a surgeonhastily summoned. But it was too late. Johnston's death left the command of the army to General PierreBeauregard, who had had the somewhat dubious honor of firing the firstshot of the war against Fort Sumter and of capturing the little garrisonwhich defended it. Beauregard was a West Point man, standing high in hisclass, and his work, previous to the war, was largely in the engineercorps. When the war began, he was superintendent of the academy at WestPoint, but resigned at once to join the South. After the capture ofSumter, he was ordered to Virginia and was in practical command at thefirst battle of Bull Run, which resulted in the rout of the Unionforces. After that, he was sent to Tennessee, as second in command toAlbert Sidney Johnston, and he succeeded to the command of the army onJohnston's death at Shiloh. The first day's fighting at Shiloh had resulted in a Confederatevictory, but Beauregard was not able to maintain this advantage on thesecond day, and was finally compelled to draw off his forces. Grantpursued him, and Beauregard was forced to retreat far to the southbefore he was safe from capture. Two years later, he attempted to stopSherman on his march to the sea, but was unable to do so, and, joiningforces with Joseph E. Johnston, surrendered, to Sherman a few days afterAppomattox. Joseph E. Johnston had been a classmate of Lee at West Point, and hadseen much service before the Civil War began. He was aide-de-camp toGeneral Scott in the Black Hawk war; and in the war with the FloridaIndians, was brevetted for gallantry in rescuing the force he commandedfrom an ambush into which it had been lured, the fight being sodesperate that, besides being wounded, no less than thirty bulletspenetrated his clothes. In the war with Mexico he was thrice brevettedfor gallantry, and was seriously wounded at Cerro Gordo and again atChapultepec. At the beginning of the Civil War, he wasquartermaster-general of the United States army, resigning that positionto take service with the South. When McDowell advanced against Beauregard at Bull Run, Johnston, who wasat Winchester, hastened with his army to the scene of battle, and thisreinforcement, which McDowell had endeavored vainly to prevent, won theday for the Confederates. He remained in command at Richmond, opposingMcClellan's advance up the peninsula, but was badly wounded at thebattle of Seven Pines, and was incapacitated for duty for severalmonths, Lee succeeding him in command of the army. Johnston was never again to gain any great victories, for he had in someway incurred the ill-will of Jefferson Davis, and was placed in oneimpossible position after another, sent to meet an enemy which alwaysoutnumbered him, and refused the assistance which he should have had. The last of these tasks was that of stopping Sherman's march to the sea, but Sherman had sixty thousand men to his seventeen thousand, and abattle was out of the question. After Lee's surrender, Davis fled south to Greensboro, where Johnstonfound him and advised that, since the war had been decided against them, it was their duty to end it without delay, as its further continuancecould accomplish nothing and would be mere murder. To this Davisreluctantly agreed, and Johnston thereupon sought Sherman and made termsof surrender for his army and Beauregard's. The terms which Shermangranted were rejected by Congress as too liberal, and another agreementwas drawn up, similar to the one which had been signed between Grant andLee. It is worth remarking that the Union generals in the field weredisposed to treat their fallen foes with greater charity and kindnessthan the politicians in Congress, who had never seen a battlefield, andwho were concerned, not with succoring a needy brother, but withwringing every possible advantage from the situation. To two other southern commanders we must give passing mention beforeturning from this period of our history. First of these is JamesLongstreet, who had the reputation of being the hardest fighter in theConfederate service, whose men were devoted to him, and called himaffectionately "Old Pete. " The army always felt secure when "Old Pete"was with it; and, indeed, he did not seem to know how to retreat. Heheld the Confederate right at Bull Run, and the left at Fredericksburg;he saved Jackson from defeat by Pope, at the second battle of Bull Run;he was on the right at Gettysburg, and tried to dissuade Lee from thedisastrous charge of the third day which resulted in Confederate defeat;he held the left at Chickamauga, did brilliant service in theWilderness, and was included in the surrender at Appomattox. A sturdyand indomitable man, the Confederacy had good reason to be proud of him. The second is J. E. B. Stuart, as a cavalry leader second only toJackson, and Sheridan, but with his reputation shadowed by a fatalmistake. He was a past master of the sudden and daring raid, and on morethan one occasion carried consternation into the enemy's camp by abrilliant dash through it. One of his most successful raids was madearound McClellan's army on the peninsula, shaking its sense of securityand threatening its communications. On another occasion, he dashed intoPope's camp, captured his official correspondence and personal effectsand made prisoners of several officers of his staff, Pope himselfescaping only because he happened to be away from headquarters. The oneshadow upon his military career, referred to above, was his absence fromthe field of Gettysburg. He was directed to take a position on the right of the Confederate army, but started away on a raid in the rear of the Federals, not expecting abattle to be fought at once, and he did not get back to the main armyuntil the battle of Gettysburg had been lost. The absence of cavalrywas a severe handicap to the Confederate army, and Lee always attributedhis defeat to Stuart's absence; but Stuart maintained that he had actedunder orders, and that the mistake was not his. He was killed in a fightwith Sheridan's cavalry at Yellow Tavern, Virginia, a short time later. And here we must end the story of the great soldiers of the Confederacy. There were many others who fought well and bravely--Bragg, A. P. Hill, Magruder, Pemberton--but none of them attained the dimensions of anational figure. Weighing the merits of the leaders of the two armies, they would seem to be pretty evenly balanced. This was natural enough, since all of them had had practically the same training and experience, and, during the war, the same opportunities. Lee, Jackson and Johnstonwere fairly matched by Grant, Sheridan and Sherman. The Southern leaders, perhaps, showed more dash and vim than theNorthern ones, for they waged a more desperate fight; but both sidesfought with the highest valor, and if the war did not have for the Norththe poignant meaning it had for the South, it was because practicallyall of its battles were fought on southern soil, and the southern peoplesaw their fair land devastated. In no instance did the North suffer anysuch burning humiliation as that inflicted on the South by Sherman inhis march to the sea; at the close of the war, despite its sacrifice ofblood and treasure, the North was more prosperous than it had been atthe beginning, while the South lay prostrate and ruined. So to the Norththe war has receded into the vista of memory, while to the South it is awound not yet wholly healed. * * * * * There have been no great American soldiers since the Civil War--atleast, there has been no chance for them to prove their greatness, forthere is only one test of a soldier and that is the battlefield. WhenGeorge A. Custer was ambushed and his command wiped out by the Sioux in1876, a wave of sorrow went over the land for the dashing, fair-hairedleader and his devoted men; yet the very fact that he had led his meninto a trap clouded such military reputation as he had gained during thelast years of the war. The war with Spain was too brief to make any reputations, though it waslong enough to ruin several. The man who gained most glory in thatconflict was "Fighting Joe" Wheeler, veteran of Shiloh, of Murfreesboro, of Chickamauga, dashing like a gnat against Sherman's flanks, andannoying him mightily on that march to the sea; a southerner of thesoutherners, and yet with a great patriotism which sent him to the frontin 1898, and a hard experience which enabled him to save the day atSantiago, when the general in command lay in a hammock far to the rear. Let us pause, too, for mention of Nelson A. Miles, who had volunteeredat the opening of the Civil War, fought in every battle of the Army ofthe Potomac up to the surrender at Appomattox, been thrice wounded andas many times brevetted for gallantry; the conqueror of the Cheyenne, Comanche and Sioux Indians in the years following the war; and finallyattaining the rank of commander-in-chief of the army of the UnitedStates; to find himself, as Winfield Scott had done, at odds politicallywith the head of the War Department and with the President, and kept athome when a war was raging. For the same reason as Scott had been, perhaps, since some of his admirers had talked of him for thepresidency. He was released, at last, to command the expedition againstPorto Rico, which resulted in the complete and speedy subjugation ofthat island. A careful and intelligent, if not a brilliant soldier, heis, perhaps, the most eminent figure which the years since the greatrebellion have developed. * * * * * Looking back over the military history of the country since itsbeginning, it is evident that America has produced no soldier ofcommanding genius--no soldier, for instance, to rank with Napoleon, who, at his prime, seemed able to compel victory; or with Frederick theGreat, that past master of the art of war. Yet it should be rememberedthat both these men were soldiers all their lives, and that they standpractically unmatched in modern history. Of the next rank--the rank ofWellington and Von Moltke--we have, at least, three, Washington, Lee, and Grant; while to match such impetuous and fiery leaders as Ney, andLannes, and Soult, we have Harry Lee, Marion, Sheridan, Jackson, andAlbert Sidney Johnston. So America has no reason to blush for hermilitary achievements--more especially since her history has been one ofpeace, save for fifteen years out of the one hundred and thirty-three ofher existence. SUMMARY PUTNAM ISRAEL. Born at Salem, Massachusetts, January 7, 1718; served inFrench and Indian war, 1755-62; in Pontiac's war, 1764; one of thecommanding officers at battle of Bunker Hill, June 17, 1775;major-general in Continental army, 1775; took part in siege of Boston, 1775-76; commanded at defeat on Long Island, August 27, 1776; commandedin high-lands of the Hudson, 1777; served in Connecticut, 1778-79;disabled by a stroke of paralysis, 1779; died at Brooklyn, Connecticut, May 19, 1790. GATES, HORATIO. Born at Maldon, England, in. 1728; served as captainunder Braddock, 1755; settled in Berkeley County, Virginia;adjutant-general in Continental army, 1775; succeeded Schuyler ascommander in the North, 1777; received Burgoyne's surrender, October 17, 1777; President of the Board of War and Ordnance, November, 1777;appointed to command in the South, 1780; totally defeated by Cornwallisat Camden, South Carolina, August 16, 1780; succeeded by General Greene;died at New York City, April 10, 1806. ARNOLD, BENEDICT. Born at Norwich, Connecticut, January 14, 1741;commissioned colonel, 1775; took part in capture of Ticonderoga, 1775;commanded expedition against Quebec, 1775; made brigadier-general andcommanded at a naval battle on Lake Champlain, 1776; decided the secondbattle of Saratoga, 1777; appointed commander of Philadelphia, 1778;tried by court-martial and reprimanded by Washington, 1780; appointedcommander of West Point, 1780; treason discovered by Washington, September 23, 1780; conducted British expeditions against Virginia andConnecticut, 1781; died at London, June 14, 1801. GREENE, NATHANAEL. Born at Warwick, Rhode Island, May 24, 1742;distinguished himself at Trenton, Princeton, Brandywine and Germantown, and succeeded Gates in command of the southern army, 1780; conductedretreat from the Catawba to the Dan, 1781; won victories of GuildfordCourt House and Eutaw Springs, 1781; died near Savannah, Georgia, June19, 1786. MARION, FRANCIS. Born at Winyaw, South Carolina, 1732; a partisan leaderin South Carolina, 1780-82; served at Eutaw Springs, 1781; died nearEutaw, South Carolina, February 27, 1795. SUMTER, THOMAS. Born in Virginia in 1734; in Braddock campaign, 1755;lieutenant-colonel of regiment of South Carolina riflemen, 1776;defeated Tories at Hanging Rock, August 6, 1780; defeated by Tarleton atFishing Creek, August 18, 1780; defeated Tarleton at Blackstock Hill, November 20, 1780; member of Congress from South Carolina, 1789-93;senator, 1801-09; minister to Brazil, 1809-11; died near Camden, SouthCarolina, June 1, 1832. LEE, HENRY. Born in Westmoreland County, Virginia, January 29, 1756;distinguished in Revolution as commander of "Lee's Legion"; governor ofVirginia, 1792-95; member of Congress, 1799-1801; died at CumberlandIsland, Georgia, March 25, 1818. ST. CLAIR, ARTHUR. Born at Thurso, Scotland, 1734; served at Louisburgand at Quebec, 1758; resigned from British army and settled in Ligoniervalley, Pennsylvania, 1764; appointed colonel, January 3, 1776;brigadier-general, August 9, 1776; organized New Jersey militia andparticipated in battles of Trenton and Princeton; major-general, February 19, 1777; succeeded Gates in command at Ticonderoga, andabandoned fort at approach of Burgoyne's army, July, 1777;court-martialed in consequence, 1778, and acquitted "with the highesthonor"; succeeded Arnold in command of West Point, 1780; before Yorktownat surrender of Cornwallis, and in South till close of war; delegate toContinental Congress, 1785-87; governor of Northwest Territory, 1789-1802; defeated by Indians near Miami villages, November 4, 1791;died at Greensburg, Pennsylvania, August 31, 1818. WAYNE, ANTHONY. Born in Chester County, Pennsylvania, January 1, 1745;member of Pennsylvania legislature, 1774; colonel of Pennsylvania troopsin Canada, 1776; brigadier-general, 1777; served at Brandywine, Germantown, and Monmouth; stormed Stony Point, July 15, 1779; commandedat Green Spring, 1781; served at Yorktown; member of Congress fromGeorgia, 1791-92; appointed major-general and commander-in-chief of thearmy, 1792; won the battle of Fallen Timbers, 1794; negotiated treatyof Greenville, 1795; died at Erie, Pennsylvania, December 15, 1796. SCOTT, WINFIELD. Born near Petersburg, Virginia, June 13, 1786; admittedto the bar, 1806; entered United States army as captain, 1808; served inwar of 1812, distinguishing himself at Queenstown Heights, Chippewa andLundy's Lane; brigadier-general and brevet major-general, 1814; servedagainst Seminoles and Creeks, 1835-37; major-general andcommander-in-chief of the army, 1841; appointed to chief command inMexico, 1847; took Vera Cruz, won battles of Cerro Gordo, Contreras, Churubusco, Molino del Rey and Chapultepec and entered City of Mexico, September 14, 1847; unsuccessful Whig candidate for President, 1852;retired from active service, 1861; died at West Point, New York, May 29, 1866. MCLELLAN, GEORGE BRINTON. Born at Philadelphia, December 3, 1826;graduated at West Point, 1846; served in Mexican war, 1846-47; sent toEurope to observe Crimean war, 1855-56; in railroad business, 1857-61;major-general of volunteers, April, 1861; cleared West Virginia ofConfederates, June and July, 1861; commander Department of the Potomac, August, 1861; organized Army of the Potomac and conducted Peninsulacampaign, 1861-62; superseded by Burnside, November 7, 1862; Democraticcandidate for President, 1864; governor of New Jersey, 1878-81; died atOrange, New Jersey, October 29, 1885. BURNSIDE, AMBROSE EVERETT. Born at Liberty, Indiana, May 23, 1824;captured Roanoke Island and Newbern, February-March, 1862; fought atAntietam, September 17, 1862; commanded Army of the Potomac, November7, 1862-January 26, 1863; defeated at Fredericksburg, December, 1862;governor of Rhode Island, 1867-69; senator, 1875-81; died at Bristol, Rhode Island, September 13, 1881. HOOKER, JOSEPH. Born at Hadley, Massachusetts, November 13, 1814;graduated at West Point, 1837; served as captain in Mexican war;brigadier-general, 1861; corps commander at South Mountain, Antietam, and Fredericksburg; commander of Army of the Potomac, January 25, 1863;defeated by Lee at Chancellorsville, May 2-3, 1863; relieved of command, June 27, 1863; served in Chattanooga campaign and with Sherman; died atGarden City, New York, October 31, 1879. SHERMAN, WILLIAM TECUMSEH. Born at Lancaster, Ohio, February 8, 1820;graduated at West Point, 1840; served in California during Mexican war;colonel in Union army, 1861; brigadier-general, 1861; was at Bull Runand Shiloh, and made major-general of volunteers, May 1, 1862; served atChattanooga and Vicksburg, won battles of Dalton, Resaca, KenesawMountain, and Peachtree Creek; made major-general in regular army, August 12, 1864; occupied Atlanta, September 2, 1864; started on marchto the sea, November 12, 1864; entered Savannah, December 21, 1864;received surrender of Johnston's army, April 26, 1865;lieutenant-general, 1866; general and commander of the army, 1869;retired, 1884; died at New York City, February 14, 1891. SHERIDAN, PHILIP HENRY. Born at Albany, New York, March 6, 1831;graduated at West Point, 1853; captain, 1861; colonel of cavalry, 1862;at Perryville, Murfreesboro, Chickamauga and Missionary Ridge; commanderof cavalry corps of Army of the Potomac, April, 1864; at Wilderness, Hawe's Shop and Trevellian; won victories of Winchester, Fisher's Hill, Cedar Creek, and devastated Shenandoah Valley, 1864; major-general, November 8, 1864; commanded at Five Forks, March 31, April 1, 1865; tookleading part in pursuit of Lee; lieutenant-general, 1867; succeededSherman as Commander-in-chief, 1883; general, 1888; died at Nonquith, Massachusetts, August 5, 1888. THOMAS, GEORGE HENRY. Born in Southampton County, Virginia, July 31, 1816; graduated at West Point, 1840; served in Seminole and Mexicanwars; brigadier-general of volunteers, August, 1861; at Mill Springs, Perryville and Murfreesboro; became famous for his defense of Unionposition at Chickamauga, September 19-20, 1863; with Sherman in Georgia, 1864; defeated Hood at Nashville, December 15-16, 1864; died at SanFrancisco, March 28, 1870. LEE, ROBERT EDWARD. Born in Westmoreland County, Virginia, January 19, 1807; graduated at West Point, 1829; served with distinction in Mexicanwar; superintendent of West Point Academy, 1852-55; commanded forceswhich captured John Brown, 1859; resigned commission in United StatesArmy, April, 1861; appointed major-general of Virginia forces, April, 1861; commander of the Army of Northern Virginia, June 3, 1862;commanded in Seven Days' Battles, Manassas campaign, at Antietam andFredericksburg, 1862; Chancellorsville and Gettysburg, 1863; againstGrant at Wilderness, Spottsylvania, Cold Harbor and Petersburg, 1864-65;surrendered to Grant at Appomattox, April 9, 1865; president ofWashington College, Lexington, Virginia, 1865-70; died at Lexington, Virginia, October 12, 1870. JACKSON, THOMAS JONATHAN. Born at Clarksburg, West Virginia, January 21, 1824; graduated at West Point, 1846; served through Mexican war andresigned from army, 1851; professor of philosophy and artillery tacticsVirginia Military Institute, 1851-61; joined Confederate army at openingof Civil War; brigadier-general at Bull Run, July 21, 1861;major-general, November, 1861; at Winchester, Cross Keys, Gaines's Mill, Malvern Hill, Cedar Mountain, Harper's Ferry, Antietam andFredericksburg, 1862; mortally wounded by his own men atChancellorsville, May 2, 1863; died at Chancellorsville, Virginia, May10, 1863. JOHNSTON, ALBERT SIDNEY. Born at Washington, Mason County, Kentucky, February 3, 1803; graduated at West Point, 1826; served in Black Hawkwar, 1832; resigned from army, 1834; enlisted as private in Texan army, 1836; succeeded Felix Houston as commander of Texan army, 1837;secretary of war for Republic of Texas, 1838-40; served in Mexican war, 1846-47; commanded successful expedition against revolted Mormons inUtah, 1857; appointed commander of Department of Kentucky and Tennesseein Confederate service, 1861; attacked Grant's army at Shiloh, April 6, 1862, and killed there while leading his men. BEAUREGARD, PIERRE GUSTAVE TOUTANT. Born near New Orleans, May 23, 1818;graduated at West Point, 1838; served with distinction in Mexican war;superintendent of West Point Academy, 1860-61; resigned to acceptappointment as brigadier-general in Confederate army, 1861; bombardedand captured Fort Sumter, April 12-14, 1861; commanded at battle of BullBun, July 21, 1861; general, 1861; assumed command of army at Shiloh ondeath of Johnston, April 6, 1862; surrendered to Sherman, 1865;president of New Orleans and Jackson Railroad Company, 1865-70;adjutant-general of Louisiana, 1878; died at New Orleans, February 20, 1893. JOHNSTON, JOSEPH ECCLESTON. Born near Farmville, Virginia, February 3, 1807; graduated at West Point, 1829; served in Mexican war, 1846-47;entered Confederate service as brigadier-general, 1861; took part inbattle of Bull Run, opposed McClellan in Peninsular campaign, foughtbattles of Resaca and Dallas against Sherman, and surrendered to Shermanat Durham Station, North Carolina, April 26, 1865; member of Congress, 1876-78; United States Commissioner of Railways, 1885-89; died atWashington, D. C. , March 21, 1891. LONGSTREET, JAMES. Born in Edgefield District, South Carolina, January8, 1821; graduated at West Point, 1842; served in Mexican war, 1846-47;entered Confederate service as brigadier-general, 1861; promotedmajor-general, 1861; was present at second battle of Bull Run, Antietam, Gettysburg, Chickamauga, Knoxville and the Wilderness; United Statesminister to Turkey, 1880-81; United States Commissioner of PacificRailroads, 1897; died January 2, 1904. STUART, JAMES EWELL BROWN. Born in Patrick County, Virginia, February 6, 1833; graduated at West Point, 1854; entered Confederate service, 1861, and became leading cavalry officer in Army of Northern Virginia; at BullRun, Peninsula, Manassas Junction, Antietam, Fredericksburg andChancellorsville; mortally wounded at battle of Yellow Tavern, and diedat Richmond, May 12, 1864. WHEELER, JOSEPH. Born in Augusta, Georgia, September 10, 1836; graduatedat West Point, 1859; entered Confederate army as colonel; at Shiloh, Green River, Perryville; brigadier-general, 1862; major-general, 1863;at Murfreesboro, commanded cavalry at Chickamauga, fought Sherman almostdaily on the march to the sea; included in Johnston's surrender, April26, 1865; member of Congress, from Alabama, 1881-99; appointedmajor-general of volunteers, U. S. A. , May 4, 1898; in command of cavalryat Las Guasimas and before Santiago; in Philippine Islands, 1899-1900;died at Brooklyn, New York, January 25, 1906. MILES, NELSON APPLETON. Born at Westminster, Massachusetts, August 8, 1839; entered Union army as volunteer, 1861, attaining rank ofmajor-general of volunteers; enlisted in regular army at close of war, rising grade by grade to major-general, and commander-in-chief, 1895-1903; conducted campaigns against Geronimo and Natchez, 1886; incommand of United States troops at Chicago strike, 1884;lieutenant-general, June 6, 1900; retired, August 8, 1903. * * * * * CHAPTER VIII GREAT SAILORS We have said that America has produced no soldier of commanding genius, but her sailors outrank the world. Even Great Britain, mighty seafaringnation as she has been, cannot, in the last hundred and fifty years, show any brighter galaxy of stars. Just why it would be difficult tosay. Perhaps America inherited from England the traditions of that raceof heroes who made the age of Elizabeth, so memorable on the ocean, andwho started their country on her career as mistress of theseas--Raleigh, Drake, Hawkins, Frobisher, Gilbert, and Howard ofEffingham. Surely in direct descent from these daring adventurers was that earliestof America's naval commanders, John Paul Jones, well called the "Founderof the American Navy. " He it was who first carried the Stars and Stripesinto foreign waters, and who made Europe to see that a new nation hadarisen, in the west. He it was who first scouted the tradition ofEngland's invincibility on the sea, and carried the war into her veryports. He it was who proved that American valor yielded no whit toBritish valor--who, when Captain Pearson, of the Serapis, asked if hehad struck his colors, shouted back that he had not yet begun to fight, although his ship had been shot to pieces and was sinking; but whothereupon did begin, and to such good purpose that he captured hisadversary and got his crew aboard her as his own ship sank. Truly aremarkable man and one worth looking at closely. In the middle of the eighteenth century, there lived in the county ofKirkcudbright, Scotland, a poor gardener named John Paul. He had a largefamily, and finding it no small task to feed so many mouths, acceptedthe offer of a distant relative named William Jones to adopt his oldestson, William, named in honor of that same relative. Jones owned aplantation in Virginia, and thither the boy accompanied him, being knownthereafter as William Paul Jones. None of John Paul's numerous children, however, would have figured on the pages of history but for the youngestson, born in 1747, and named after his father, John Paul. Little John Paul had a short childhood, for as soon as he could handle aline, he was put to work with the fishermen on Solway Firth to help earna living for the family. By the time that he was twelve years old, hewas a first-class sailor, and had developed a love for the sea and adisregard of its perils which never left him. Securing his father'sconsent, he shipped as apprentice for a voyage to Virginia, and visitedhis brother, who was managing his adopted father's estate nearFredericksburg. The old planter took a great fancy to the boy, andoffered to adopt him also, but young John Paul preferred theadventurous life of the ocean to humdrum existence on a Virginiaplantation. For the next fifteen years, he followed the sea, studyingnavigation and naval history, French and Spanish, and fitting himself inevery way for high rank in his profession. On the seventeenth of April, 1773, John Paul anchored his brig, the TwoFriends, in the Rappahannock just below his brother's plantation, androwed to shore to pay him a visit. He found him breathing his last. Hedied childless, and John Paul found himself heir to the estate, whichwas a considerable one. Resigning command of his vessel, he settled downto the life of a Virginia planter, adding to his name the last name ofhis family's benefactor, and being known thereafter as John Paul Jones. Events were at this time hurrying forward toward war with Great Britain;Virginia was in a ferment, and Paul Jones was soon caught up by thistide of patriotism. When, in 1775, the Congress decided to "equip a navyfor the defence of American liberty, " Jones at once offered hisservices, and was made a senior first lieutenant. It is amusing to runover the names of those first officers of the American navy. As was thecase with the first generals, out of the whole list only two names livewith any lustre--Paul Jones and Nicholas Biddle. Paul Jones was the first of these officers to receive his commission, John Hancock handing it to him in Independence Hall, Philadelphia, shortly after noon on December 22, 1775. Immediately afterwards, thenew lieutenant, accompanied by a distinguished party, including Hancockand Thomas Jefferson, proceeded to the Chestnut street wharf, where theAlfred, the first American man-of-war was lying moored. CaptainSaltonstall, who was to command the ship, had not yet arrived fromBoston, and at Hancock's direction, Lieutenant Jones took command, andran up the first American flag ever shown from the masthead of aman-of-war. It was not the Stars and Stripes, which had not yet beenadopted as the flag of the United States, but a flag showing arattlesnake coiled at the foot of a pine-tree, with the words, "Don'ttread on me. " Three other small vessels were soon placed in commission, and thesquadron started out on its first cruise on February 17, 1776. Throughthe inexperience and incompetency of the officers, the cruise was acomplete failure, and resulted in the dismissal of "Commander-in-Chief"Ezekial Hopkins, and the retirement of Jones's immediate superior, Captain Dudley Saltonstall. It was a striking example of how the firstblast of battle winnows the wheat from the chaff, and its best resultwas to give Paul Jones a command of his own. Never thereafter was heforced to serve under an imbecile superior, but was always, to the endof his career, the ranking officer on his station. His first command was a small one, the sloop-of-war Providence, withfourteen guns and 107 men, but in six weeks he had captured sixteenprizes, of which eight were manned and sent to port, and eightdestroyed at sea; was twice chased by frigates, escaping capture only bythe most brilliant manoeuvring; and made two descents on the coast ofNova Scotia, releasing some American prisoners, capturing arms andammunition, dispersing a force of Tories, and destroying a number offishing smacks; and finally reached port again with a crew offorty-seven, all the rest having been told off to man his prizes. Work of so brilliant a description won instant recognition, especiallyas contrasted with the failure of the first cruise, and Jones waspromoted to a captaincy, and the Alfred, a ship mounting twenty-eightguns, added to his command. A cruise of thirty-three days in these twovessels resulted in seven prizes, two of them armed transports loadedwith supplies for the British army. Fired by these successes, Jones's great ambition was for a cruise alongthe coast of England. He argued that the time had come when the Americanflag should be shown in European waters, and that the moral effect of adescent upon the English coast would be tremendous. It would have thisfurther advantage, that England was expecting no such attack, that herports would be found unprepared for it, and that great damage to hershipping could probably be done. Lafayette, who had become a warm friendof the daring captain, heartily approved the plan, and on June 14, 1777, the Congress passed the following resolution: _Resolved_, That the Flag of the Thirteen United States of America be Thirteen Stripes, Alternate Red and White; that the Union be Thirteen Stars in a Blue Field, Representing a New Constellation. _Resolved_, That Captain John Paul Jones be Appointed to Command the Ship Ranger. That these two acts should have been joined in one resolution seems aremarkable coincidence. "The flag and I are twins, " Jones used to say;"we cannot be parted in life or death"; and it was this flag he carriedwith him when he sailed from Portsmouth in the dawn of the first day ofNovember, 1777. Something else he carried, too--dispatches which hadbeen placed in his hands only a few hours before, telling of Burgoyne'ssurrender. "I will spread the news in France in thirty days, " Jonespromised, as his ship cast loose, and he actually did land at Nantesthirty-one days later. The news he brought decided France in favor of analliance with the United States, and the Treaty of Alliance was signedtwo months later. Jones, meanwhile, had overhauled and refitted his ship, and on the tenthof April, set sail from Brest, intending to make a complete circuit ofthe British Isles. Entering the Irish Sea, he spread terror along itsshores, where his coming was like a bolt from the blue, engaged andcaptured the British ship-of-war Drake, took a number of prizes, andsailed into Brest again after an absence of twenty-eight days. It has been the fashion in some quarters to call Jones a pirate, but itis difficult to see any argument for such a characterization of him. Hesailed under the flag of the United States, held a commission from theUnited States, and attacked an enemy with whom the United States was atwar. There is no hint of piracy about that; but Jones came to be a sortof bogeyman to the coast towns of the British Isles, who never knew whento expect an attack from him, and no name was too hard for theirfrightened inhabitants to apply to him. But it was some time before Jones was able to strike another blow. Herealized that he must have a more effective squadron for his secondcruise, and more than a year was spent in getting it together. Finally, on August 14, 1779, he got to sea again with a squadron of fourvessels--not a very effective one, but the best that could be had. Theflagship was an unwieldy old Indiaman which Jones had named the BonHomme Richard, in honor of his good friend, Benjamin Franklin, whosePoor Richard was almost as famous in France as in America. The otherthree ships were commanded by Frenchmen, and all the crews were of themost motley description. On September 23, the squadron sighted a greatfleet of English merchantmen, under convoy of the Serapis, a powerfulfrigate mounting forty-four guns, and the Countess of Scarborough, mounting twenty-eight. Jones signalled his squadron to give chase andhimself closed with the Serapis. Captain Pearson, of the Serapis, was very willing for the contest, sincehis ship was greatly superior to Jones's old boat in fightingqualities; but Jones succeeded in depriving the Serapis of some of thisadvantage by running his vessel into her and lashing fast. So close didthey lie that their yardarms interlocked, and their rigging was soon sofouled that Jones could not have got away, even had he wished to do so. For three hours the ships lay there, side by side, pouring broadsidesinto each other; their decks were soon covered with dead and wounded;two of the Richard's guns burst and her main battery was silenced, butJones kept fighting on, for a time with so few guns that the captain ofthe Serapis thought he had surrendered. "Have you struck?" he shouted, through his trumpet. "No, " Jones shouted back, "I have not yet begun to fight!" The Serapis was on fire and the Richard was sinking, but at thisjuncture, one of the men of the Richard crept out along a yardarm, anddropped a hand grenade down a hatchway of the Serapis. It wroughtfearful havoc, and Pearson struck his flag. It was time, for the Richard was on fire in two places, all hermain-deck guns were dismounted, and she was sinking fast. She was keptafloat with great difficulty until morning, giving Jones time to placehis wounded on the Serapis, and to save such of her fittings as could beremoved. The Pallas, another of Jones's ships, had captured theScarborough, and with these prizes, Jones put back to France. He waswelcomed with great enthusiasm there, received the thanks of theCongress, and was designated to command the ship-of-the-line thenbuilding. But he fought no more battles under the Stars and Stripes. After a brief service with Russia, he returned to Paris, broken inhealth, and died there in 1792. His body was only recently brought tothis country and interred with national honors at Annapolis. We have said that there was only one other naval commander of theRevolution whose name shines with any lustre to-day--Nicholas Biddle. His career was a brief and brilliant one. Born in Philadelphia, he hadgone to sea at the age of thirteen, was cast away on a desert island, was rescued, and enlisted in the English navy, but returned to Americaas soon as revolution threatened. He was given command of a little brigcalled the Andrea Doria, took a number of prizes, and made so good arecord that in 1776 he was appointed to command the new frigate, Randolph. Using Charleston, South Carolina, as his base, he capturedfour prizes within a few days, but on his second cruise, fell in with aBritish sixty-four, the Yarmouth. After a sharp action of twentyminutes, fire got into the magazine of the Randolph, in some way, andshe blew up, only four of her crew of 310 escaping. The blow was a heavyone to the American navy, for Biddle was its best commander, next toJones, and the Randolph was its best ship. Luckily the French allianceplaced the French fleet at the disposal of the colonies--or Cornwalliswould never have been captured at Yorktown. It is one of our polite fictions that the United States has always beenvictorious in war; but, as a matter of fact, we were not victorious inthe second war with England, and, when the treaty of peace came to besigned, abandoned practically all the contentions which war had beendeclared to maintain. On land, the war was, for the most part, a seriesof costly blunders, beginning with the surrender of Detroit, and closingwith the sack of Washington, and had England had her hands free ofNapoleon, the result for us might have been very serious. The onlyconsiderable and decisive victory won by American arms was that ofAndrew Jackson at New Orleans--a battle fought after the treaty of peacehad been signed. But on the ocean there was a different story--a series of brilliantvictories which, while they did not seriously cripple the great Englishnavy, caused Canning to declare in Parliament that "the sacred spell ofthe invincibility of the British navy is broken. " The heaviest blow wasstruck to British commerce, no less than sixteen hundred Englishmerchantmen falling victims to privateers and ships-of-war. The group of men who commanded the American vessels was a mostremarkable one, and their fighting qualities were worthy in every way ofJohn Paul Jones. First blood was drawn by David Porter, illustriousscion of a family which gave five generations to brilliant service inthe navy. On August 13, 1812, Porter, with the Essex, engaged in asharp battle with the British ship Alert, which, after an action ofeight minutes, surrendered in a sinking condition. He had seen hardservice before that, had been twice impressed by British vessels andtwice escaped, had fought French and pirates, and spent some time in aprison in Tripoli. After his capture of the Alert, he went on a cruise in the Pacific, destroying the English whale fisheries there, capturing booty valued attwo and a half million dollars, and taking four hundred prisoners. Sogreat was the damage he inflicted, that a British squadron was fittedout and sent to the Pacific to capture him, found him in a partiallydisabled condition in the harbor of Valparaiso, and, disregarding theneutrality of the port, sailed in and attacked him. The engagementlasted two hours and a half, the Essex finally surrendering when reducedto a helpless wreck. On the Essex at the time was a midshipman agedtwelve years, who got his first taste of fighting there, and whose namewas destined to become, after that of Paul Jones, the most famous inAmerican naval history--David Glasgow Farragut. Less than a week after Porter's victory over the Alert, another and muchmore important one was won by Captain Isaac Hull in the frigateConstitution--"Old Ironsides"--the most famous ship-of-war the navy hasever possessed. Isaac Hull was a nephew of General William Hull, who, onAugust 16, 1812, surrendered Detroit and his entire army to the Britishwithout striking a blow. Three days later, Isaac Hull, having sailedfrom Boston without orders, in his anxiety to meet the enemy and forfear the command of the Constitution would be given to some one else--abreach of discipline for which he would probably have beencourt-martialled and shot, had the cruise ended disastrously--fell inwith the powerful British frigate Guerrière. Inscribed across theGuerrière's mainsail in huge red letters were the words: All who meet me have a care, I am England's Guerrière. She was a powerful vessel, but neither the vessel nor the menacefrightened Hull, and he sailed straight for her, holding his fire untilhe was within fifty yards, when he let fly a broadside and then another, which sent two of her masts by the board, and the third soon followed, leaving her unmanageable. Within a very few minutes, under Hull's rakingfire, she was reduced to a "perfect wreck"--so perfect, in fact, thatshe had to be blown up and sunk, as there was no chance of getting herback to port. The Constitution was practically uninjured, and Hullsailed back to Boston, with his ship crowded with British prisoners. Hewas welcomed with the wildest enthusiasm, banquets were given in hishonor, swords voted him by state legislatures, New York ordered aportrait painted of him, and Congress gave him a gold medal. The WarDepartment discreetly permitted his disobedience of orders to drop outof sight. Hull's victory was not the result of accident, but of long and carefultraining. He had begun his sea career in the merchant service at the ageof fourteen, was a captain at the age of twenty, and entered the navy in1798. He soon gained a high reputation for seamanship, and his geniusfor handling a ship under all conditions was one of the most importantfactors in his success. He saved his ship on one occasion, when she wasbecalmed and practically surrounded by a powerful British fleet, by"kedging"--in other words, sending a row-boat out with an anchor, whichwas dropped as far ahead as the boat could take it, and the ship pulledup to it by means of the windlass. As soon as the British saw him doingthis, they tried it too, but Hull managed to get away from them byalmost superhuman exertions. He served in the navy for many years afterhis memorable victory over the Guerrière, but never achieved another sonotable. The second capture of a British frigate in the war of 1812 was made byStephen Decatur, who had distinguished himself years before by anexploit which Lord Nelson called "the most daring act of the age. "Decatur, who possessed in unusual degree the dash and brilliance sovaluable in a naval commander, came naturally by his love of the sea, for his grandfather had been an officer in the French navy, and hisfather was a captain in the navy of the United States. Entering the service at the age of eighteen, his first cruise was in thefrigate, United States, which he was afterwards to command. He rosesteadily in the service and got his first command six years later, beinggiven the sixteen-gun brig Argus, and sent with Commodore Preble toassist in subduing the Barbary corsairs. It is difficult to-day to realize that there was a time when the UnitedStates paid tribute to anybody, more especially to a power soinsignificant as the Barbary States. Yet such was the fact. Lying alongthe north coast of Africa were the half-civilized states of Morocco, Tunis, Tripoli, and Algiers, and most of their income was from piracy. All merchantmen were their prey; they divided the loot and sold thecrews into slavery. Many nations, to secure immunity from theseoutrages, paid a stated sum yearly to these powers, and the UnitedStates was one of them. Why the nations did not join together and wipe the pirates out ofexistence is difficult to understand, but so it was. On one occasion, Congress actually revoked an order for some new ships for the navy, andused the appropriation to buy off the Barbary powers. The fund was knownas the "Mediterranean Fund, " and was intrusted to the secretary of stateto expend as might be necessary. But after a while, the Barbary powersbecame so outrageous in their demands, that it occurred to the StateDepartment that there might be another way of dealing with them, and asquadron under Commodore Preble was sent to the Mediterranean for thepurpose. Shortly before he reached there, the U. S. Frigate Philadelphia, commanded by Captain Bainbridge, had gone upon a reef just outside theharbor of Tripoli and had been surrounded and captured, with all hercrew, by the Tripolitan gunboats. The Tripolitans got her off the rocks, towed her into the harbor, and anchored her close under the guns oftheir forts. They also strengthened her batteries, and prepared her fora cruise, which could not but have been disastrous to our shipping. Itwas evident that she must be destroyed before she got out of the harbor, and Stephen Decatur volunteered to lead a party into the harbor on thisdesperate mission. Commodore Preble hesitated to accept Decatur's offer, for he knew how greatly against success the odds were, but finally, inJanuary, 1804, he told him to go ahead. A small vessel known as a ketch had recently been captured from theTripolitans, and Decatur selected this in which to make the venture. Hetook seventy men from his own vessel, and, on the night of February 15, sailed boldly into the harbor of Tripoli. Let us pause for a minute toconsider the odds against him. First there was the Philadelphia with herforty guns double-shotted and ready to fire; half a gunshot away was theBashaw's castle, the mole and crown batteries, while within range wereten other batteries, mounting, all told, a hundred and fifteen guns. Between the Philadelphia and the shore lay a number of Tripolitancruisers, galleys and gunboats. Into this hornet's nest, Decatur steeredhis little vessel of sixty tons, carrying four small guns, and having acrew of only seventy men. The Tripolitans saw the vessel entering the harbor, but supposed it tobe one of their own until it was alongside the Philadelphia. Then therewas a cry of "Americanos!" and a rush to quarters, but it was too late, for Decatur and his men swarmed up the side and over the rail of thePhiladelphia, and charged the dismayed and panic-stricken Tripolitans. There was a short and desperate struggle, and five minutes later, theship was cleared of the enemy. It was manifestly impossible to get the Philadelphia out of the harbor, so Decatur gave the order to burn her. Combustibles had been prepared inadvance, and in a moment, flames began to break out in all parts of theship. Then the order was given to return to the ketch, the cable wascut, the sweeps got out, and the ketch drew rapidly away from theburning vessel. The sounds of the mêlée had awakened the troops onshore, and, as the harbor was lighted by the flames from thePhiladelphia, the shore batteries opened upon the little vessel, butwithout doing her any serious damage, and Decatur got safely out of theharbor and back to the fleet without losing a man. Shortly afterwards his life was saved by one of those acts of heroismwhich stir the blood. In a general attack upon the Tripolitan gunboats, Decatur laid his ship alongside one of the enemy, grappled with her andboarded. Decatur was the first over the side and a desperatehand-to-hand combat followed. The pirate captain, a gigantic fellow, soon met Decatur face to face, and stood on tiptoe to deal him atremendous blow with his scimitar. Decatur rushed in under the swingingsword, grappled with him, and they fell to the deck together, whenanother Tripolitan raised his scimitar to deal the American a fatalblow. A young sailor named Reuben James, himself with both arms disabledfrom sword cuts, seeing his beloved captain's peril, interposed his ownhead beneath the descending sword and received a wound which marked himfor life. An instant later, Decatur's crew rallied to him, killed thepirate captain and drove the remainder of his crew over the side intothe sea. At the outbreak of the war of 1812, Decatur was given command of theUnited States, and on the morning of October 25, overhauled the Britishfrigate Macedonian near the Canary Islands. Seventeen minutes later, theMacedonian, with a third of her crew dead, hauled down her colors. Decatur had lost only twelve men killed and wounded, and placing a crewaboard his prize, got her safely to New York. This victory was soonfollowed by disaster, for, securing command of the President, a frigatemounting forty-four guns, he attempted to get past the British blockadeof New York harbor, but ran into a squadron of the enemy, and, after arunning fight lasting thirty hours, was overhauled by a superior forceand compelled to surrender. Decatur was taken captive to Bermuda, butwas soon parolled, and, after commanding a squadron in theMediterranean, built himself a house at Washington, expecting to spendthe remainder of his days there in honorable retirement. But it was not to be. In 1816, Decatur, while a member of the board ofnavy commissioners, had occasion to censure Commodore James Barron. Barron considered himself insulted, and a long correspondence followed, which finally resulted in Barron challenging Decatur to fight a duel. Under the code of honor then in vogue, Decatur could do nothing butaccept, and the meeting took place at Bladensburg, Maryland, March 22, 1820. At the word "fire, " Barron fell wounded in the hip, where Decaturhad said he would shoot him, while Decatur himself received a wound inthe abdomen from which he died that night. He was, all in all, one ofthe most brilliant and efficient men the navy ever boasted; and he willbe remembered, too, for his immortal toast: "My country: may she bealways right; but, right or wrong, my country!" Closely associated with Decatur in some of his exploits was WilliamBainbridge, as handsome, impetuous and daring a sailor as ever trod adeck. Bainbridge, who was five years younger than Decatur, began hisseafaring career at the age of sixteen, and three years later was incommand of a merchantman. He entered the navy at its reorganization in1798, and two years later was appointed to command the GeorgeWashington, a ship of twenty-eight guns. Bainbridge's first duty was to carry a tribute of half a milliondollars to the Dey of Algiers, according to the arrangement made by theSecretary of State which we have already mentioned. The errand was ahateful one to Bainbridge, as it would have been to any Americansailorman; but he was in the navy to obey orders, and in September, 1800, he reached Algiers and anchored in the harbor and delivered thetribute. But when he had done this, the Dey sent word that he had acargo of slaves and wild beasts for the Sultan of Turkey atConstantinople, and that Bainbridge must take them, or his ship would betaken from him and he and his crew sold into slavery. There was nothing to do but consent, since the ship was wholly in theDey's power, so to Constantinople Bainbridge sailed her. When a boat wassent ashore there to announce her arrival, the Turks were greatlyastonished, for they had never heard of a nation called the UnitedStates, and did not know that there was a great continent on the otherside of the world. It makes us feel less self-important, sometimes, whenwe stop to consider that about one half the human race, even at thepresent day, have no idea of our existence. Well, Bainbridge delivered his cargo, and then sailed back to Algierswith orders from the Sultan to the Dey. He delivered these to the Dey, and in accordance with them, the Dey immediately declared war on France, and notified all the French in Algiers that if they had not left hisdominions within forty-eight hours, they would be sold into slavery. There was no French ship in the harbor, and it looked, for a time, asthough, the French would not be able to get away, but as soon as helearned of their predicament, Bainbridge gathered them together and tookthem over to Spain--an act for which he received the personal thanks ofNapoleon Bonaparte. Bainbridge was, of course, glad to get away from Algiers, but he had byno means seen the last of the Barbary pirates. Returning to the UnitedStates, he was given command of the Philadelphia, and sent back to theMediterranean with Commodore Preble's squadron to give the pirates alesson. The Philadelphia went on ahead to Tripoli and began a vigorousblockade of that port, but, in chasing a Tripolitan vessel which wastrying to enter the harbor, ran hard and fast on an uncharted reef, andkeeled over so far that her guns were useless. The Tripolitans were notlong in discovering her predicament, swarmed out of the harbor in theirgunboats, and soon had the American vessel at their mercy. With what bitterness of spirit Bainbridge hauled down his flag may beimagined. He and his men were taken ashore and imprisoned and theirvessel was got off the reef and towed into the harbor. From the windowof their prison, the Americans could see her riding at anchor, flyingthe flag of Tripoli, and the sight did not render their imprisonmentmore pleasant. But one night, they heard shots in the harbor, and, looking out, beheld the Philadelphia in flames, and the little ketchbearing Decatur and his men fading rapidly away through the darknesstoward the harbor mouth. Six months later, they watched the Americanassault upon the harbor, but their hearts fell when the Americansquadron finally gave up the attempt and withdrew. It was not until thefollowing year that peace was made, and Bainbridge and his men released, after a captivity of nineteen months. Never since that time has theUnited States paid tribute to any nation. When the second war with England began, President Madison and hisadvisers thought it foolhardy to attempt to oppose Great Britain on theocean, for she had the strongest fleet of any nation in the world, andso decided to confine the war entirely to land. It was Bainbridge whobrought about a change of this unwise policy by impassioned pleading, tothe everlasting glory of the American navy. Hull resigned theConstitution to him, after his victory over the Guerrière--it was reallyfor fear that Bainbridge would get command of the ship that Hull hadsailed from Boston without orders--and Bainbridge sailed for the SouthAtlantic, and captured the British frigate Java, after a terrific fight, in which he was himself seriously wounded. This was his last fight, though the years which followed saw him in many important commands. Forsheer romance and adventure, his career has seldom been excelled. Another hero of the war of 1812, whose name is associated with a deed ofimperishable gallantry, was James Lawrence. He had entered the navy asmidshipman in 1798, at the age of eighteen, and served in the waragainst Tripoli, first under Hull and then under Decatur, andaccompanied the latter on the expedition which destroyed thePhiladelphia. But the deed by which he is best remembered is his fightwith the British frigate Shannon. In the spring of 1813, he was assignedto the command of the frigate Chesapeake, a vessel hated by the wholenavy because of the bad luck which seemed to pursue her. Lawrenceaccepted the command reluctantly, and proceeded to Boston, where she waslying, to prepare her for a voyage. A crew was secured with great difficulty, most of them being foreigners, and his officers were all young and inexperienced. What the crew andofficers alike needed was a practice cruise to put them in shape to meetthe enemy, and Lawrence knew this better than anybody, but when theBritish frigate Shannon appeared outside the harbor with a challenge fora battle, Lawrence, feeling that to refuse would be dishonorable, hoisted anchor and sailed out to meet her. The Shannon was one of the finest frigates in the English navy, mannedby an experienced crew, and commanded by Philip Broke, one of the bestofficers serving under the Union Jack. The ships ranged up together andbroadsides were delivered with terrible effect. Lawrence was wounded inthe leg, but kept the deck. Then the ships fouled, and Lawrence calledfor boarders, but his crew, frightened at the desperate nature of theconflict, did not respond, and a moment later he fell, shot through thebody. As he was borne below, he kept shouting, "Don't give up the ship!Fight her till she strikes or sinks! Don't give up the ship!" his voicegrowing weaker and weaker as his life ebbed away. The battle was soon over, after that, for the British boarded, theChesapeake's foreign crew threw down their arms, and the triumphantenemy hauled down the Chesapeake's flag. A few days later, the two shipssailed into the harbor of Halifax, Lawrence's body, wrapped in hisship's flag, lying in state on the quarter-deck. He was buried withmilitary honors, first at Halifax, and then at New York, where Hull, Stewart and Bainbridge were among those who carried the pall. His cry, "Don't give up the ship!" was to be the motto of another battle, far tothe west, where Great Britain experienced the greatest defeat of thewar. Before describing it, however, let us speak briefly of four othervaliant men, whose deeds redounded to the honor of their country--EdwardPreble, Charles Stewart, Johnston Blakeley, and Thomas Macdonough. Itwas said of Preble that he had the worst temper and the best heart inthe world. At sixteen years of age he ran away to sea, and two yearslater, he actually saw a sea-serpent, a hundred and fifty feet in lengthand as big around as a barrel, and got close enough to fire at it. Hesaw service in the Revolution, and in 1803, was appointed to command theexpedition against the Barbary corsairs, of which we have alreadyspoken, and which resulted in bringing those pirates to their knees. The trials of that expedition ruined his health, and he survived it buta few years. To Charles Stewart belongs the remarkable exploit of engaging andcapturing two British ships at the same time. Enlisting in 1798, he waswith Preble at Tripoli, and was given command of the Constitution, afterBainbridge's successful cruise in her, and started out in search ofadventure on December 17, 1814. Two months later, off the MadeiraIslands he sighted two British ships-of-war and at once gave chase. Heoverhauled them at nightfall, and, running between them, gave thembroadside after broadside, until both struck their colors. They were theCyane and the Levant. Stewart got back to New York the middle of May tofind out that peace had been declared over a month before his encounterwith the British ships. He was received with enthusiasm, and "Old Ironsides" got the reputationof being invincible. Her career had, indeed, been remarkable. She haddone splendid work before Tripoli, escaped twice from British squadronsand seven times run the blockade through strong British fleets; she hadcaptured three frigates and a sloop-of-war, besides many merchantmen, and had taken more than eleven hundred prisoners. From all of theseengagements she had emerged practically unscathed, and in none of themhad she lost more than nine men. Stewart was the last survivor of thegreat captains of 1812, living until 1869, having been carried on thenavy list for seventy-one years. Johnston Blakeley was a South Carolinian, and won renown by a remarkablecruise in the Wasp. The Wasp was a stout and speedy sloop, carryingtwenty-two guns and a crew of one hundred and seventy men, and in 1814she sailed from the United States, and headed for the English Channel, to carry the war into the enemy's country, after the fashion of PaulJones. The Channel, of course, was traversed constantly by Englishfleets and squadrons and single ships-of-war, and here the Wasp sailedup and down, capturing and destroying merchantmen, and, by the skill andvigilance of her crew and commander, escaping an encounter with anyfrigate or ship-of-the-line. But one June morning, while chasing two merchantmen, she sighted theBritish brig Reindeer, and at once prepared for action. The Reindeeraccepted the challenge, and after some broadsides had been exchanged, the ships fouled and the British boarded. A desperate struggle followed, in which the English commander was killed. Then the boarders were drivenback, and the Americans boarded in their turn, and in a minute had theReindeer in their possession. Her colors were hauled down, she was setafire, and the Wasp continued her cruise. Late one September afternoon, British ships of war appeared all aroundher, and selecting one which seemed isolated from the others, CaptainBlakeley decided to try to run alongside and sink her after nightfall. She was the eighteen-gun brig Avon, a bigger ship than the Wasp, butBlakeley ran alongside, discharged his broadsides, and soon had theAvon in a sinking condition. She struck her flag, but before Blakeleycould secure his prize, two other British ships came up and he wasforced to flee. Soon afterwards, he encountered a convoy of ships bearing arms andmunitions to Wellington's army, under the care of a great three-decker. Blakeley sailed boldly in, and, evading the three-decker's movements, actually cut out and captured one of the transports and made his escape. Then she sailed for home, and that was the last ever heard of the Wasp. She never again appeared, and her fate has never been determined. Butwhen she sank, if sink she did, there went to the bottom one of thegallantest ships and bravest captains in the American navy. All of the battles which we have thus far described were fought on saltwater, but two great victories were won on inland waters, and of one ofthese Thomas Macdonough was the hero. He had entered the navy in 1800, at the age of seventeen, served before Tripoli, and accompanied Decaturon the expedition which burned the Philadelphia. At the outbreak of thesecond war with England, he was sent to Lake Champlain, and set aboutthe building of a fleet to repel the expected British invasion fromCanada. The British were also busy at the other end of the lake, and onSeptember 9, 1814, Macdonough sailed his fleet of fourteen boats, ten ofwhich were small gunboats, and the largest of which, the Saratoga, wasmerely a corvette, into Plattsburg Bay, and anchored there. The abdication of Napoleon had enabled England to turn her undividedattention to America, and one great force was sent against New Orleans, while another was concentrated in Canada, for the purpose of invadingNew York by way of Lake Champlain. On this latter enterprise, a force oftwelve thousand regulars started from Montreal early in August, whilethe British naval force on the lake was augmented to nineteen vessels. On September 11, this fleet got under way, and, certain of victory, sailed into Plattsburg Bay and attacked Macdonough. A terrific battlefollowed, in which the Saratoga had every gun on one side disabled andhad to wear around under fire in order to use those on the other side. But three hours later, every British flag had been struck, and the landforce, seeing their navy defeated, retreated hastily to Canada. Soriddled were both squadrons that in neither of them did a mast remainupon which sail could be made. But the greatest victory of the war, the one which had the mostimportant and far-reaching consequences, had been won a year before, farto the west, on the blue waters of Lake Erie, by Oliver Hazard Perry, atthat time only twenty-eight years of age. Perry came of a seafaringstock, for his father was a captain in the navy, and the boy's firstvoyage was made with him in 1799. At the outbreak of the war of 1812, hewas in command of a division of gunboats at Newport, but finding that, owing to the British blockade, there was little chance of his seeingactive service in that position, he asked to be sent to the GreatLakes, whose possession we were preparing to dispute with England. The importance of this mission can hardly be overestimated. By thecapture of Detroit, earlier in the war, the English had obtainedundisputed control of Lake Erie, and were in position to carry out theirplan of extending the Dominion of Canada along the Ohio and Mississippirivers down to the Gulf, and so shutting in the United States upon theWest. To Perry was assigned the task of stopping this project, and ofregaining control of the lake. He arrived at Lake Erie in the spring of 1813, and proceeded at once tobuild the fleet which was to sail under the Stars and Stripes. He showedthe utmost skill and energy in doing this, and by the middle of July, inspite of many difficulties, had nine vessels ready to meet theenemy--two brigs and two gunboats which he had built, and five smallboats which were brought up from the Niagara river. On the third ofAugust, he sailed out to meet the British, his ships being manned by amotley crew of "blacks, soldiers, and boys. " The flagship had been named the Lawrence, after the heroic commander ofthe Chesapeake. Luckily the English were not ready for battle, and Perryhad a month in which to drill his men before the enemy sailed out tomeet him. At last, on the morning of Saturday, September 10, 1813, theBritish fleet was seen approaching, and Perry formed his ships in lineof battle. The British squadron consisted of six vessels, mounting 63 guns, andmanned by 502 men. The American ships mounted 54 guns, with 490 men. Although of smaller total weight than the American guns, the Britishguns were longer and would carry farther, and so were much moreeffective. The British crews, too, were better disciplined, a largenumber of the men being from the royal navy, and the squadron wascommanded by Robert Heriot, a man of much experience, who had foughtunder Nelson at Trafalgar. The American shore was lined with an anxious crowd, who appreciated thegreat issues which hung upon the battle. Perry, calling his men aft, produced a blue banner bearing in white letters the last words of theman after whom the Lawrence was named: "Don't give up the ship!" "Shall I hoist it, boys?" he asked. "Aye, aye, sir!" they shouted, and the bunting was run up to themain-royal masthead. Then a hush fell upon the water as the two fleetsdrew together. A few minutes before noon the engagement began, Perryheading straight for the flagship of the enemy, and drawing the fire ofpractically the whole British squadron by running ahead of the otherships, which, owing to the light breeze, could not get within range. Fortwo hours, he fought against these hopeless odds, and almost withoutsupport, until his ship was reduced to a wreck and only one of her gunscould be worked, while of her crew of 103, only twenty were left ontheir feet. Every nook and corner of the brig was occupied by somewounded and dying wretch seeking vainly to find shelter from the Britishfire. Even the cockpit, where the wounded were carried for treatment, was not safe, for some of the men were killed while under the surgeon'shands. No fewer than six cannon balls passed through the cockpit, whiletwo went through the magazine, which, by some miracle, did not explode. The ship was so disabled, at last, that it drifted out of action, andPerry, taking his pennant and the blue flag bearing the words "Don'tgive up the ship!" under his arm, got into a boat with four seamen, andstarted for the Niagara, his other brig. The British saw the little boat dancing over the waves, and after amoment of dazed astonishment at a manoeuvre unheard of in naval warfareand daring almost to madness, concentrated their fire on it. One cannonball penetrated the boat, but Perry, stripping off his coat, stuffed itinto the hole and so kept the boat afloat until the Niagara was reached. Clambering on board, Perry ran up his flags, reformed his line, closedwith the enemy, raked them, engaged them at close quarters, where theirlong guns gave them no advantage, and conducted an onslaught so terrificthat, twenty minutes later, the entire British squadron had hauled downtheir flags. Perry at once rowed back to the Lawrence, and upon her splintered andbloodstained deck, received the surrender of the British officers. Then, using his cap for a desk, he wrote with a pencil on the back of an oldletter the famous message announcing the victory: "We have met the enemyand they are ours--two ships, two brigs, two schooners and one sloop. "More than that was ours, for the victory, and the prompt advance ofGeneral Harrison which followed it, compelled the British to evacuateDetroit and Michigan, and to abandon forever the attempt to annex theWest to Canada. Half a century later, when the great Erie canal wasopened, the guns of Perry's fleet, placed at ten-mile intervals alongits banks, announced the departure of the first fleet of boats fromBuffalo, carrying the news to New York City, a distance of 360 miles, inan hour and twenty minutes. Perry lived only six years longer, dying while still a young man, in thesaddest possible manner. In June, 1819, he was given command of asquadron designed to protect American trade in South American waters, and while ascending the Orinoco, contracted the yellow fever, and died afew days later. He was buried at Trinidad, but some years afterwards, aship-of-war brought him home, and he sleeps at Newport, Rhode Island, near the spot where he was born. So ends the story of that group of naval commanders, who dealt sosurprising and terrific a blow at the tradition of English supremacy onthe ocean. * * * * * The brother of the victor of Lake Erie, Matthew Calbraith Perry, mustalso be mentioned here, for his was a unique achievement--the peacefulconquest of a great Eastern empire. Born in 1794, and educated in thebest traditions of the navy, he was selected to command the expeditionwhich, in 1853, was ordered to visit Japan, that strange nation of theOrient which, up to that time, had kept her ports closed to foreigncommerce. Perry's conduct of this delicate mission was notable in theextreme, and its result was the signing of a treaty between Japan andthe United States which has long been regarded as one of the greatestdiplomatic triumphs of the age. * * * * * In the spring of 1861, a captain of the United States navy was living atNorfolk, Va. , his home, the home of his wife's family, and the home ofhis closest friends. Excitement ran high, for it was as yet an openquestion whether or not the great state of Virginia would join hersisters farther south and renounce her allegiance to the Union. It was atime of searching of hearts, and this man of sixty years was broughtface to face with the bitterest moment of his life. He must choosebetween his country and his state; between his flag and the love andrespect of his relatives and friends. In the end, the flag won. It was the flag he had taken his boyish oathto honor; on more than one occasion, he had seen the haughtiest colorson the ocean bow with respect before it; he had seen men, writhing inthe agony of death, expend their last breath to defend it. It hadwrapped itself about his heart, and meant more to him than home orfriends or kindred. So the flag won. On the seventeenth day of April, 1861, Virginia seceded from the Union. The day following, our gray-haired captain, expressing the opinion thatsecession was not the will of the majority of the people, but that thestate had been dragooned out of the Union by a coterie of politicians, was told that he could no longer live in Norfolk. "Very well, " he answered, "I can live somewhere else. " He went home and told his wife that the time had come when she mustchoose whether she would remain with her own kinsfolk or follow him. Herchoice was made on the instant, and within two hours, David GlasgowFarragut, his wife and their only son, were on a steamer headed for theNorth. A few days later, he offered his services to the Union. Before going forward with him upon his great career, let us cast aglance over his boyhood--such a boyhood as falls to the lot of not onein a million. Born in 1801, of a father who had served in the Revolutionand who was afterwards to become a friend and companion of AndrewJackson, his childhood was passed amid the dangers and alarms of theTennessee frontier. In 1808 occurred the incident which paved the wayfor his entrance into the navy. While fishing on Lake Pontchartrain, hisfather fell in with a boat in which was lying an old man prostrated bythe heat of the sun. Farragut took him at once to his own home, where hewas tenderly cared for, but he died a few days later. The sufferer wasDavid Porter, father of Captain Porter of the Essex, at that time incharge of the naval station at New Orleans. Captain Porter was informed of the accident to his father, and hastenedto the home of the Farraguts. He felt deeply their kindness, and as someslight return, offered to adopt one of the Farragut children, take himNorth with him, and do what he could for his advancement. Young Davidpromptly said that he would go, the arrangements were concluded, and theboy of seven accompanied his new protector to Washington. He spent twoyears at school there, and then, on December 17, 1810, at the age ofnine, received an appointment as midshipman in the United States navy. Two years later, he accompanied Porter in the Essex on that memorabletrip around Cape Horn. Porter took so many prizes in the South Pacific that his supply of olderofficers ran out, and twelve-year old David Farragut was appointedprize-master of one of them, with orders to take her to Valparaiso. WhenFarragut gave his first order, her skipper, a hot-tempered old sea-dog, flew into a rage, and declaring that he had "no idea of trusting himselfwith a blamed nutshell, " rushed below for his pistols. Thetwelve-year-old commander shouted after him that, if he came on deckagain, he would be thrown overboard, and thenceforth was master of theship. He was back on the Essex again when she was attacked in Valparaisoharbor by a British squadron, and got his baptism of fire in one of thehardest-fought naval battles in history. From that time until the outbreak of the Civil War, his life was spentin the most active service, and he rose to the rank of captain. As hasbeen seen, he cast in his lot with the North, and asked for active dutyat once, but it was not until eight months later that the summons came. When it did come, it was of a nature to fill him with the most unboundedenthusiasm. The national government had determined to attempt to send afleet past the formidable forts at the mouth of the Mississippi, for thepurpose of capturing New Orleans. Farragut was sent for, shown the listof vessels which were preparing for the expedition, and asked if hethought it could succeed. He answered that he would undertake to do itwith two-thirds the number, and when he was told that he was to commandthe expedition, his delight knew no bounds. He felt that his chance hadcome. On the second of February, 1862, he sailed out of Hampton Roadswith a squadron of seventeen vessels, and turned his prow to the south. The task which had been set him was one to give the stoutest heartpause. Twenty miles above the mouth of the Mississippi were twoformidable forts and a number of water batteries, with combinedarmaments greatly superior to those of Farragut's fleet. A great barrierof logs stretched across the river, while farther up lay a Confederatefleet of fifteen vessels, one of which was an ironclad ram. A strongforce of Confederate sharpshooters was stationed along either bank, anda number of fire-rafts were ready to be lighted and sent down againstthe Union fleet. It was against these obstacles that Farragut, after aweek of preliminary attack, started up the river in his wooden vesselsat three o'clock in the morning of April 24, 1862. As soon as the Confederates descried the advancing fleet, they lightedgreat fires along the banks and opened a terrific cannonade. Blazingfire-rafts threw a lurid glare against the sky. The fleet, pausing a fewminutes to discharge their broadsides into the forts, steamed on up theriver; Farragut's flagship grounded under the guns of Fort St. Philip, and a fireship, blazing a hundred feet in the air, floated against herand set her on fire, but the flames were extinguished, the flagshipbacked off, and headed again up the stream. Before the coming of dawn, the entire fleet, with the exception of three small boats, had passedthe forts and were grappling with the Confederate squadron above. Ofthis, short work was made. Some of the enemy's vessels were drivenashore, some were run down, others were riddled with shot--and theproudest city of the South lay at Farragut's mercy. On the first day of May, the United States troops under General Butler, marched into the city, and Farragut, glad to be relieved of anunpleasant task, proceeded up the river, ran by the batteries atVicksburg, assisted at the reduction of Port Hudson, and finally sailedfor New York in his flagship, the Hartford, arriving there in August, 1863. He had already been commissioned rear-admiral, and he was given amost enthusiastic reception, for his passage of the Mississippi wasrecognized as an extraordinary feat. An examination of his ship showedthat she had been struck 240 times by shot and shell in her nineteenmonths of service. Immediately after the surrender of New Orleans, Farragut had desired toproceed against the port of Mobile, Alabama, which was so stronglyfortified that all attempts to close it had been in vain, and which wasthe only important port left open to the Confederates. But thegovernment decided that Mobile could wait a while, and sent him, instead, to open the Mississippi. That task accomplished, the time hadcome for him to attempt the greatest of his career--greater, even, thanhis capture of New Orleans, and much more hazardous. In the spring of1864, he was in the Gulf, preparing for the great enterprise. Mobile harbor was defended by works so strong and well-placed that itwas considered well-nigh impregnable. The Confederates had realized theimportance of keeping this, their last port, open, so that they couldcommunicate with the outer world, and had spared no pains to render itso strong that they believed no attack could subdue it. Two great forts, armed with heavy and effective artillery, guarded the entrance; thewinding channel was filled with torpedoes, and in the inner harbor was afleet of gunboats, and, most powerful of all, the big, ironclad ram, Tennessee. In charge of the Tennessee was the same man who had guidedthe Merrimac on her fatal visit to Hampton Roads, Franklin Buchanan, butthe Tennessee was a much more powerful vessel than the Merrimac had everbeen, and it was thought that nothing afloat could stand against her. It was this position, then, which, at daybreak of August 5, 1864, Farragut sailed in to assault. His fleet consisted of four ironcladmonitors, and fourteen wooden vessels, and his preparations were mademost carefully, for he fully realized the gravity of the task beforehim. He himself was in his old flagship, the Hartford, and mounting intothe rigging to be above the smoke, he was lashed fast there, so that hewould not fall to the deck, in case a bullet struck him. The thought ofthat brave old leader taking that exposed position so that he mighthandle his fleet more ably will always be a thrilling one--and the eventproved how wise he was in choosing it. The word was given, and, at half past six in the morning, the monitorstook their stations, while the wooden ships formed in column, the planbeing for the monitors, with their iron sides, to steam in between thewooden ships and the forts, and so protect them as much as possible. Thelight vessels were lashed each to the left of one of the heavier ones, so that each pair of ships was given a double chance to escape, shouldone be rendered helpless by a shot in the boiler, or in some other vitalportion of her machinery. The Brooklyn was at the head of the column, while the Hartford came second, and the others followed. In this order, the fleet advanced to the attack. There was an unwonted stillness on the ships as they swung in towardsthe harbor mouth, for every man felt within him a vague unrest caused byone awful and mysterious peril, the torpedoes. For the forts, thegunboats, even the great ironclad, the men cared nothing--they had metsuch perils before--but lurking beneath the water was a horror not to beguarded against. They knew that these deadly mines were scattered alongthe channel through which they must make their way, and that any momentmight be the end of some proud vessel. The ships were all in fighting trim, with spars housed and canvasfurled, and decks spread with sawdust so that they would not growslippery with the blood which was soon to flow. As the fleet came withinrange of the forts, a terrific cannonade began, in which the Confederateships, stationed just inside the harbor, soon joined. One of them wasthe great ram, Tennessee, and the commander of the leading monitor, theTecumseh, noted her and determined to give her battle. So he swung hisship toward her and ordered full steam ahead; but an instant later, there came a sudden dull roar, an uplifting of the water, the boatquivered from stem to stern, and then plunged, bow first, beneath thewaves. Farragut, from his lofty station, saw the Tecumseh disappear, and thensaw the Brooklyn, the ship ahead of him in the battle line, stop andbegin to back. It was an awful moment--the crisis of the fight and ofFarragut's career as well. The ships were halted in a narrow channel, right beneath the forts; a few moments' delay meant that they would beblown out of the water. "What's the matter there?" he roared. "Torpedoes!" came the cry from the Brooklyn's deck, for her captain hadperceived a line of little buoys stretching right across her path. "Damn the torpedoes!" shouted the admiral. "Go ahead, Captain Drayton, "he continued, addressing his own captain. "Four bells!" and theHartford, swinging aside, cleared the Brooklyn and took the lead. On went the flagship across the line of torpedoes, which could be heardknocking against her bottom as she passed, but not one of them exploded, and a moment later, one of the most daring feats in naval history hadbeen accomplished. Farragut had seen, instantly, that the risk must betaken, and so he took it. The remainder of the fleet followed the flagship, the forts were passed, and the battle virtually won. The Confederate fleet, and especially thegreat ram, was still to be reckoned with, but before proceeding to thatportion of the task, Farragut steamed up the harbor and served breakfastto his men. Just as this was finished, the Tennessee attacked, and putup a desperate fight, but finally became unmanageable and was forced tosurrender. So ended the battle of Mobile Bay. It left Farragut's fame secure as oneof the greatest sea-captains of all time; great in daring, in skill, inforesight, and with a coolness and presence of mind which no perilcould shake. Congress created for him the grade of admiral, beforeunknown in the United States navy, and the whole country joined inhonoring him. Swinging to and fro with the ebb and flow of the tide at the entrance ofMobile Bay, is a buoy which marks the spot of a deed of purest heroism. A few fathoms below that buoy lies the monitor Tecumseh, sunk by atorpedo at the beginning of the battle, as we have seen, and the buoycommemorates, not the sinking of the ship, but the self-sacrifice of hercommander, Tunis Augustus Craven. Craven had entered the navy at the age of sixteen and had seen muchservice and distinguished himself in many ways before he was givencommand of the Tecumseh and ordered to join Farragut's squadron. On themorning of the attack, he was given the post of honor at the head of thecolumn, and determined to come to close quarters with the Tennessee, ifhe could. But fate intervened, when his quarry was almost within reach. Craven had stationed himself in the little pilot-house beside the pilot, the better to direct the movements of his ship, and when he and thepilot felt that sudden shock and saw the Tecumseh sinking, both of themsprang for the narrow opening leading from the pilot-house to the turretchamber below. They reached the opening at the same instant; it was sosmall that only one could pass at a time, and Craven, with a greatnessof soul found only in heroes, drew back, saying quietly, "After you, pilot. " "There was nothing after me, " said the pilot afterwards, "for when Ireached the last round of the ladder, the vessel seemed to drop fromunder me. " * * * * * At the outbreak of the Civil War, the commerce of the United States wasthe next to the largest in the world. The North destroyed southerncommerce by capturing or blockading southern ports, while the Southretaliated by fitting out a large number of commerce-destroyers, torange the seas and take what prizes they could--a plan which had beenadopted by America in both wars with England, and which is the onlyresource of a power whose navy is greatly inferior to that of itsantagonist. The bright particular star of the Confederate service was RaphaelSemmes, who had been trained in the United States navy, and who, firstin the Sumter and afterwards in the Alabama, captured a total ofseventy-seven prizes, nearly all of which he destroyed. To his capture, the United States devoted some of its best ships, but it was not untilthe summer of 1864, that he was finally cornered. On Sunday, June 12, 1864, the United States sloop-of-war Kearsarge layat anchor off the sleepy town of Flushing, Holland. Her commander, JohnAncrum Winslow, had served in the navy of the United States forthirty-seven years, and had done good work off Vera Cruz in the war withMexico, but the crowning achievement of his life was at hand. As hisship lay swinging idly at her anchor, a boat put off to her, a messengerjumped aboard, and three minutes later a gun was fired, recallinginstantly every member of the ship's company ashore. The message wasfrom our minister to France and stated that the long-sought Alabama hadarrived at Cherbourg. For nearly two years, Winslow had been searchingfor that scourge of American shipping, but Semmes had always eluded him, so it may well be believed that Winslow lost no time in getting underway. On Tuesday morning, he reached Cherbourg, and breathed a great sighof relief as he saw, beyond the breakwater, the flag of the Alabama. Hetook his station off the port, and kept a close lookout for fear hisenemy would again elude him. But the precaution was unnecessary, forSemmes had decided to offer battle. Four days passed, however, with the Kearsarge keeping grim guard. Then, on Sunday morning, June 19, as the crew of the Kearsarge was at divineservice, the officer of the deck reported a steamer at the harbor-mouth. A moment later, the lookout shouted, "She's coming, and heading straightfor us!" Captain Winslow, putting aside his prayer-book, seized thetrumpet, ordered the decks cleared for action, and put his ship aboutand bore down on the Alabama. The two vessels were remarkably well-matched, but the engagement wasdecisive evidence of the superior qualities of northern marksmanship. Itwas, in fact, an exhibition of that magnificent gunnery which was soevident in the war of 1812, and which was to be shown again in the warwith Spain. Nearly all of the 173 shots fired by the Kearsarge tookeffect, while of the 370 fired by the Alabama, only 28 reached theirtarget. As a result, at the end of an hour and a half, the Alabama wassinking, while the Kearsarge was practically uninjured and had lost onlythree men. Hauling down her flag, the Alabama tried to run in shore, butsuddenly, settling by the stern, lifted her bow high in the air andplunged to the bottom of the sea. So ended the career of the Alabama. Winslow received the usual rewards of promotion and the thanks ofCongress, and passed the remainder of his life unadventurously in thenavy service. One other battle remains to be recorded--in some respects the mostimportant in history, because it revolutionized the construction ofbattleships, and suddenly rendered all the existing navies of the worldpractically useless. On the eighth day of March, 1862, a powerful squadron of Union vesselslay at anchor in Hampton Roads, consisting of the Congress, theCumberland, the St. Lawrence, the Roanoke, and the Minnesota. It was abeautiful spring morning, and the tall ships rocked lazily at theiranchors, while their crews occupied themselves with routine duties. Shortly before noon, a strange object was seen approaching down theElizabeth river. To the Union officers, it looked like the roof of alarge barn belching forth smoke. In reality, it was the Confederateironclad, Merrimac, under command of Captain Franklin Buchanan. Buchanan had, in his day, been one of the most distinguished officers inthe United States navy. He had entered the service in 1815, asmidshipman, and won rapid promotion. In 1845, he was selected by thesecretary of the navy to organize the naval academy at Annapolis, andwas its first commandant. He commanded the Germantown at the capture ofVera Cruz, and the Susquehanna, the flagship of Commodore Perry's famousexpedition to Japan. At the outbreak of the Civil War, he was commandantof the Washington navy-yard, and, being himself a Baltimore man, resigned from the service after the attack made in Baltimore on theMassachusetts troops passing through there. Finding that his state didnot secede, he withdrew his resignation and asked to be restored, butfor some reason, the secretary of the navy, Gideon Welles, refused thisrequest, and Buchanan was fairly driven into the enemy's service. The Confederacy was glad to get him, gave him the rank of captain andput him in charge of the work at the Norfolk, Virginia, navy-yard. Themost important business going forward there was the reconstruction ofthe United States frigate, Merrimac. This consisted in building aboveher berth-deck sloping bulwarks seven feet high, covered with fourinches of iron, and pierced for ten guns. To her bow, about two feetunder water, a cast-iron ram was attached, and on the eighth of March, she cast loose from her moorings and started down the river. She wasscarcely complete, her crew had never been drilled, she had never fireda gun, nor had her engines made a single revolution, while the shipitself was merely a bold experiment, which had never made a trial trip. Yet Buchanan, on reaching Hampton Roads, headed straight for the Unionfleet. There, as soon as the identity of the stranger was discovered, hurriedpreparations for battle were made. Decks were cleared, magazines opened, and guns loaded, and as soon as the Merrimac was in range, the Unionships and shore batteries opened upon her, but such projectiles asstruck her, glanced harmlessly from her iron mail. Not until she wasquite near the Cumberland did the Merrimac return the fire. Then sheopened her bow-port and sent a seven-inch shell through the Cumberland'squarter. The Cumberland answered with a broadside which would have blownany wooden vessel out of the water, but which affected the Merrimac notat all. Buchanan had determined to test the power of his ram, andkeeping on at full speed, crashed into the Cumberland's side. Then hebacked out, leaving a yawning chasm, through which the water poured intothe doomed ship. She settled rapidly and sank with a roar, her crewfiring her guns to the last moment. The Merrimac then turned her attention to the Congress, with such deadlyeffect that that vessel was forced to surrender after an hour'sfighting, in which she was repeatedly hulled and set on fire. Most ofher crew escaped to the shore, and the Confederates completed herdestruction by firing hot shot into her. Evening was at hand by thistime, and the Merrimac withdrew, intending to destroy the other ships inthe harbor next morning. So ended the most disastrous day in the history of the United Statesnavy. Two ships were lost, and over three hundred men killed or wounded. On the Merrimac, two had been killed and eight wounded, but the vesselherself, though she had been the target for more than a hundred heavyguns, was practically uninjured and as dangerous as ever. Among the wounded was Captain Buchanan, who was forced to relinquish thecommand of the Merrimac. For his gallantry, he was thanked by theConfederate Congress, and promoted to full admiral and senior officer ofthe Confederate navy. As soon as he recovered from his wound, he wasplaced in charge of the naval defenses of Mobile, Alabama, and theresuperintended the construction of the ram Tennessee, which he commandedduring the action with Farragut two years later. His handling of thevessel was daring almost to madness, but she became disabled and wasforced to surrender. Buchanan was taken prisoner, and never again tookpart in any naval action. Let us return to Hampton Roads. The news of the disaster to the Union fleet spread gloom andconsternation throughout the North, and corresponding rejoicingthroughout the South. The remaining ships in Hampton Roads plainly layat the Merrimac's mercy, and after they had been destroyed, there wasnothing to prevent her steaming up the Potomac and attackingWashington. It seemed as if nothing but a miracle could save the countryfrom awful disaster. And that miracle was at hand. Among the coincidences of history, none is more remarkable than thearrival at Hampton Roads on the night of March 8, 1862, of the strangeand freakish-looking craft known as the Monitor. Proposed to the NavyDepartment in the preceding fall by John Ericsson, in spite of sneersand doubts, a contract was given him in October to construct a vesselafter his design. The form of the Monitor is too well known to needdescription--"a cheese-box on a raft, " the name given her in derision, describes her as well as anything. She was launched on the last day ofJanuary, and three weeks later was handed over to the Government, but itwas not until the fourth of March that her guns were mounted, twopowerful rifled cannon. At the request of Ericsson, she was named theMonitor, and this name came afterwards to be adopted to describe theclass of ships of which she was the first. So dangerous was service inher considered, that volunteers were called for, and Lieutenant JohnLorimer Worden was given command of her. Worden had entered the navy twenty-seven years before, and at theopening of the Civil War, had delivered the orders from the secretary ofthe navy which saved Fort Pickens, in the harbor of Pensacola, to theUnion. Attempting to return North overland, he was arrested and held asa prisoner seven months, being exchanged just in time to enable him toprocure command of the Monitor. Rumors of the construction of theMerrimac had reached the North, and two days after her guns were aboard, the Monitor left New York harbor for Hampton Roads. Just after shepassed Sandy Hook, orders recalling her were received there, fortunatelytoo late to be delivered. By such slight threads do the events ofhistory depend. Meanwhile, Captain Worden was making such progress southward as he couldwith his unwieldy and dangerous craft, which had been designed only forthe smooth waters of rivers and harbors and which was wholly unable tocope with the boisterous Atlantic. There was a brisk wind, and thevessel was soon in imminent danger of foundering. The waves broke overher smoke-stack and poured down into her fires, so that steam could notbe kept up; the blowers which ventilated the ship would not work, andshe became filled with gas which rendered some of her crew unconscious. Undoubtedly she would have gone to the bottom very shortly had not thewind moderated. Even then, it was almost a miracle that she should winthrough, but win through she did, and at four o'clock on the afternoonof Saturday, March 8, as she was passing Cape Henry, Captain Wordenheard the distant booming of guns. As darkness came, he saw far aheadthe glare of the burning Congress. About midnight, the little vessel crept up beside the Minnesota andanchored. Her crew were completely exhausted. For fifty hours, they hadfought to keep their ship afloat, and on the morrow they must beprepared to meet a formidable foe. All that night they worked with theirvessel, making such repairs as they could. At eight o'clock nextmorning, the Merrimac appeared, and the Monitor started to meet her. Amazed at sight of what appeared to be an iron turret sliding over thewater toward him, the commander of the Merrimac swung toward this tinyantagonist, intending to destroy her before proceeding to the work inhand. Captain Worden had taken his station in the pilot-house, andreserved his fire until within short range. Then, slowly circling abouthis unwieldy foe, he fired shot after shot, which, while they did notdisable her, prevented her from destroying the Union ships in theharbor. Finding the Monitor apparently invulnerable, and with hermachinery giving trouble, the Merrimac at last withdrew to Norfolk. That the battle was a victory for the Monitor cannot be questioned; shehad prevented the destruction of the Union ships, and this she continuedto do, until, in the following May, the Confederates, finding themselvescompelled to abandon Norfolk, set the Merrimac on fire and blew her up. Six months later, the Monitor met a tragic fate, foundering in a stormoff Cape Hatteras, a portion of her crew going down with her. Honors were showered upon Worden for his gallant work. He was givencommand of the monitor Montauk, and later on destroyed the Confederateprivateer Nashville. After the war, he was promoted to rear-admiral, andremained in the service until 1886. There were others in the war whose deeds brought glory to themselves andto the navy--Lieutenant William B. Cushing, who destroyed theConfederate ram Albemarle in Plymouth harbor, a deed comparable with theburning of the Philadelphia early in the century; David Dixon Porter, whose work on the Mississippi was second only to Farragut's, who fourtimes received the thanks of Congress, and who, in the end, becameadmiral of the navy; Charles Stuart Boggs, who, in the sloop-of-warVaruna, sank five Confederate vessels in the river below New Orleans, before he was himself sunk--but none of them, and, indeed, none of thosewhose exploits we have given, measured up to the stature of Farragut, one of the greatest commanders of all time, and, all things considered, the very greatest in the history of America. * * * * * Thirty years and more passed after that epoch-making contest between theMonitor and the Merrimac before the world witnessed another battle tothe death between ironclads. Theoretically, wood had long since beendisplaced by iron, iron by steel, and steel by specially-forgedarmor-plate, battleship designers struggling always to build a vesselwhich could withstand modern projectiles. But as to the actual resultsin warfare, there was nothing but theory to go upon until that firstday of May, 1898, when George Dewey steamed into the harbor of Manila, at the head of his squadron, and opened fire upon the Spanish fleet. Dewey had received his training under the best of masters, Farragut. Graduating from Annapolis in 1858, he served as lieutenant on theMississippi, when that vessel, as part of Farragut's fleet, ran past theforts below New Orleans. A short time later, in trying to pass theConfederate batteries at Port Hudson, the Mississippi ran hard and fastaground. Half an hour was spent, under a terrific fire, in trying to gether off; then Dewey, after spiking her guns, assisted in scuttling herand escaped with her captain in a small boat. He saw other activeservice, and got his first command in 1870. He was commissionedcommodore in 1896, and on January 1, 1898, took command of the Asiaticsquadron. Few people in the world beside himself suspected, even in the dimmestmanner, the task which lay before him; but with a rare sagacity, he hadforeseen that, in the event of war with Spain, the far East would be thescene of operations of the first importance. He thereupon applied forthe command of the Asiatic squadron, and his application was granted. Dewey proceeded immediately to Hong Kong, and began to concentrate hisforces there and to get them into first-class condition. He spent muchof his time studying the charts of the Pacific, and his officers noticedthat the maps of the Philippine Islands soon became worn and marked. OnTuesday, April 26, came the explanation of all this in a cablegramstating that war had been declared between the United States and Spain, and ordering Dewey to proceed at once to the Philippine Islands andcapture or destroy the Spanish fleet which was stationed there. Early the next afternoon, the squadron started on its six hundred milejourney. What lay at the end of it, no one on the fleet knew. Of theSpanish force, Dewey knew only that twenty-three Spanish war vesselswere somewhere in the Philippines; he knew, too, that they were probablyat Manila, and that the defenses of the harbor were of the strongestdescription. But he remembered one of Farragut's sayings, "The closeryou get to your enemy, the harder you can strike, " and he lost no timein getting under way. [Illustration: DEWEY] Dewey's squadron consisted of seven vessels, of which one was a revenuecutter, and two colliers. He was many thousands of miles from thenearest base of supplies and to fail would mean that he would have tosurrender. So, on that momentous voyage, he drilled and drilled his men, until their discipline was perfect. On April 30, land was sighted, andprecautions were redoubled, since the enemy might be encountered at anymoment. Careful search failed to reveal the Spaniards in Subig Bay, andat six o'clock in the evening, Dewey announced to his officers that hehad determined to force Manila Bay that night. At nine o'clock the fleetwas off the bay, all lights were extinguished save one at the stern ofeach ship to serve as a guide for the one following, and even thatlight was carefully screened on both sides so that it could not be seenfrom the shore. Then the fleet headed for the harbor mouth. What the defenses of the channel were, no one knew. It was reported tobe full of torpedoes. But perhaps Dewey remembered Farragut at MobileBay. At any rate, he did not hesitate, but kept straight on, and thefleet had almost passed the harbor mouth, before its presence wasdiscovered. Then the shore batteries opened, but without effect, and theentire squadron passed safely into the harbor. Then followed long hoursof waiting for the dawn, and at five o'clock came the signal, "Preparefor action, " for the Spanish fleet had been sighted at anchor far downthe harbor. Fifteen minutes later, the Spaniards opened fire, but Dewey wentsilently on toward his goal. Suddenly, a short distance away, there wasa dull explosion, and a great mass of water and mud sprang into the air. A mine had been exploded; the fleet had entered the mine fields. Now, ifever, it would be blown into eternity, but there was no pause in theprogress of that silent line of battle. From the bridge of the Olympia, the most exposed position in the squadron, Dewey watched the progress ofhis ships. In the conning tower, eagerly awaiting the word to fire, wasCaptain Gridley. At last, with a final glance at the shore, Dewey bentover the rail. "You may fire when ready, Gridley, " he said, quietly. Ready! Surely that was satire on Dewey's part, for just one second laterthe bridge under his feet leaped like a springboard as the great gunbeneath it gave the signal. Scarcely had the shell left the muzzle whenan answering roar came from the other ships. The battle had begun, theSpanish ships were riddled with a shower of bursting shells, their crewscut to pieces, and the ships themselves set on fire. The guns of theAmerican squadron roared with clocklike regularity, while the firingfrom the Spanish ships steadily decreased. Two hours of this work, andthe smoke hung so heavy over the water that it was difficult todistinguish the enemy's ships. "What time is it, Rees?" asked Dewey, of his executive officer. "Seven forty-five, sir. " "Breakfast time, " said Dewey, with a queer smile. "Run up the signals, 'Cease firing, ' and 'Follow me. '" Again it was a lesson from Farragut, and Dewey, steaming back down theharbor, signalled "Let the men go to breakfast. " His captains, comingaboard the Olympia, gave a series of reports unique in naval history. Not a man had been killed, not a gun disabled, not a ship seriouslyinjured. Three hours were devoted to cooling off and cleaning the guns, getting up more ammunition, and breakfast was leisurely eaten. Meanwhile, across the bay, on the riddled and sinking Spanish ships thewildest confusion reigned. At eleven o'clock, the American fleet wasseen again approaching, and a few minutes later, that terrible storm offire recommenced. There was practically no reply. Three of the Spanishships were on fire, and their magazines exploded one after another witha mighty roar; a broadside from the Baltimore sank a fourth; a shellfrom the Raleigh exploded the magazine of a fifth, and so, one by one, the Spanish ships were blown to pieces, until not one remained. An hourlater, the shore batteries had been silenced, and Dewey hoisted thesignal, "Cease firing. " So ended the greatest naval battle since Trafalgar--a battle whichriveted the attention of the world, and brought home to Europe arealization of the fact that here was a new world-power to be reckonedwith. With six ships, carrying 1, 668 men and fifty-three guns, Dewey haddestroyed the Spanish squadron of nine ships, carrying 1, 875 men andforty-two guns; not an American had been killed, and only six wounded, while the Spanish loss was 618 killed and wounded; and not an Americanvessel had been injured. And, in addition to destroying the Spanishfleet, a series of powerful shore batteries had been silenced, and theway prepared for the American occupation of the Philippines. Dewey'splace as one of the great commanders of history was secure. News of the victory created the wildest excitement and enthusiasm in theUnited States. Dewey became a popular hero, and when he returned fromthe Philippines, was welcomed with triumphal honors, which recalled thegreat days of the Roman empire. He was commissioned admiral of thenavy, a rank which had been created for Farragut, and which has beenheld by only two men besides him. Another great American naval victory marked the brief war withSpain--the destruction of Admiral Cervera's powerful fleet as it triedto escape from the harbor of Santiago, Cuba, on the third day of July, 1898--a victory which made the Independence Day which followed one longto be remembered in the United States. There, as at Manila, the entireSpanish fleet was destroyed, without a single American vessel beingseriously injured, and with a loss of only one killed and one wounded onthe American side. But the victory at Santiago was the victory of no oneman. The ranking officer, William Thomas Sampson, was miles away whenthe engagement began. The next in rank, Winfield Scott Schley, soconducted himself that he was brought before a court of inquiry. Thebattle was really fought and won by the commanders of the variousships--Robley D. Evans, John W. Philip, Charles E. Clark, Henry C. Taylor, Richard Wainwright--by the very simple procedure of getting asclose to the enemy as they could, and hammering him as hard as theirguns would let them. One and all, they behaved with the utmostgallantry. But most remarkable of all in the history of the navy fromfirst to last has been the superb work of the "men behind the guns, "whose marksmanship has been the despair and envy of the world. SUMMARY JONES, JOHN PAUL. Born at Kirkbean, Kirkcudbrightshire, Scotland, July6, 1747; settled in Virginia, 1773; appointed first lieutenant inAmerican navy, 1775; commanded Ranger and cruised in the Irish sea, 1777-78; sailed from France in Bon Homme Richard, August 14, 1779;fought Serapis, September 23, 1779; resigned from American service, entered the French and later the Russian navy, served under Potemkin inthe Black Sea with rank of rear-admiral; returned to Paris, 1790; diedthere, July 18, 1792. BIDDLE, NICHOLAS. Born at Philadelphia, September 10, 1750; captain inAmerican navy, 1775; appointed to command the Randolph, June 6, 1776;killed when ship blew up in fight with Yarmouth, March 7, 1778. PORTER, DAVID. Born at Boston, February 1, 1780; entered navy, 1798;served in Tripolitan war, 1801-03; commander of the Essex in war of1812; defeated and taken prisoner in Valparaiso harbor, March 28, 1814;resigned, 1826; commander of Mexican naval forces, 1826-29; UnitedStates minister to Turkey, 1831-43; died at Pera, Constantinople, March3, 1843. HULL, ISAAC. Born at Derby, Connecticut, March 9, 1773; entered navy, 1798; served in war with Tripoli, 1801-03; sailed from Boston in commandof the Constitution, August 2, 1812; defeated Guerrière, August 19, 1812; remained in navy till end of life; died at Philadelphia, February13, 1843. DECATUR, STEPHEN. Born at Sinnepuxent, Maryland, January 5, 1779;entered navy, 1798; burned frigate Philadelphia in harbor of Tripoli, February 16, 1804; commanded frigate United States in war of 1812;captured British frigate, Macedonian, October 25, 1812; captured byBritish fleet, January 15, 1815; killed in a duel with James Barron, near Bladensburg, Maryland, March 22, 1820. BAINBRIDGE, WILLIAM. Born at Princeton, New Jersey, May 7, 1774;lieutenant-commandant in quasi-naval-war with France, 1798; commandedPhiladelphia in Tripolitan war; captured by Tripolitans, November 1, 1804; commander of Constitution in war of 1812; captured British frigateJava, December 29, 1812; served in navy till death at Philadelphia, July28, 1833. LAWRENCE, JAMES. Born at Burlington, New Jersey, October 1, 1781;entered navy, 1798; served in Tripolitan war, 1801-03; sailed fromBoston in the Chesapeake, and defeated by British frigate Shannon, June1, 1813; died at sea from wound received in battle, June 6, 1813. PREBLE, EDWARD. Born at Falmouth (now Portland), Maine, August 15, 1761;served as midshipman during Revolution; commissioned lieutenant, February 9, 1798; captain, May 15, 1799; commanded squadron operatingagainst Barbary States, 18O3-O4; died at Portland, Maine, August 25, 1807. STEWART, CHARLES. Born at Philadelphia, July 28, 1778; lieutenant inUnited States navy, March 9, 1798; served in war with Tripoli; captain, April 22, 1806; commanded Constitution, 1813-14, capturing many prizes;remained in navy till death, rising to rank of rear-admiral; died atBordentown, New Jersey, November 6, 1869. BLAKELEY, JOHNSTON. Born near Seaford, County Down, Ireland, October, 1781; brought to America, 1783; entered navy as midshipman, February 5, 1800; lieutenant, February 10, 1807; master commander, July 24, 1813;sailed from Portsmouth, New Hampshire, in the Wasp, May 1, 1814;captured Reindeer, sunk Avon, captured Atalanta; the Wasp was spoken bya Swedish ship, October 9, 1814, and never seen again. MACDONOUGH, THOMAS. Born in Newcastle County, Delaware, December 23, 1783; entered the navy as midshipman, 1800; served in war againstTripoli; lieutenant, 1807; master commander, 1813; defeated Britishsquadron under Downie on Lake Champlain, September 11, 1814; died atsea, November 16, 1825. PERRY, OLIVER HAZARD. Born in South Kingston, Rhode Island, August 23, 1785; entered navy as midshipman, April 7, 1799; served in war withTripoli; lieutenant, 1807; ordered to Lake Erie, February 17, 1813;reached Erie, March 27, 1813; defeated British fleet, September 10, 1813; assisted in defense of Baltimore, 1814; commanded Java and JohnAdams; died at Port Spain, Island of Trinidad, August 23, 1819. PERRY, MATTHEW CALBRAITH. Born at Newport, Rhode Island, April 10, 1794;entered navy as midshipman, 1809; lieutenant, February 27, 1813; sawdistinguished service in many ships and many waters; master-commandant, January 7, 1833; captain, March 15, 1837; commodore, June 12, 1841;commanded fleet at capture of Vera Cruz, 1844; organized and commandedexpedition to Japan, delivering President's letter to the Mikado, July14, 1853, and signing treaty, March 31, 1854; died in New York City, March 4, 1858. FARRAGUT, DAVID GLASGOW. Born at Campbell's Station, Tennessee, July 5, 1801; adopted by David Porter and given commission as midshipman, 1810;served under Porter in the Essex, 1813-14; lieutenant, 1821; commander, 1841; captain, 1855; appointed commander of squadron to reduce NewOrleans, January, 1862; passed the forts below New Orleans on the nightof April 23-24, 1862; compelled surrender of city, April 25, 1862;passed batteries at Vicksburg, June 28, 1862; rear-admiral, July 16, 1862; fought battle of Mobile Bay, August 5, 1864; vice-admiral, 1864;admiral, 1866; died at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, August 14, 1870. CRAVEN, TUNIS AUGUSTUS MACDONOUGH. Born at Portsmouth, Hew Hampshire, January 11, 1813; entered navy as midshipman, 1829; served in variousships and in coast survey; commander, April, 1861; given command ofmonitor Tecumseh, with post of honor in battle of Mobile Bay, August 5, 1864; struck torpedo and sank almost instantly, carrying down Craven andalmost everyone else on board. SEMMES, RAPHAEL. Born in Charles County, Maryland, September 27, 1809;midshipman in navy, 1826; lieutenant, 1837; at siege of Vera Cruz, 1847;commander in Confederate navy, April 4, 1861; took command of Alabama, August, 1863; Alabama destroyed by Kearsarge, June 19, 1864; guardedwater approaches to Richmond, 1865; after war, engaged in practice oflaw until his death at Mobile, Alabama, August 30, 1877. WINSLOW, JOHN ANCRUM. Born at Wilmington, North Carolina, November 19, 1811; entered navy as midshipman, 1827; lieutenant, 1839; commander, 1855; captain, 1862; commanded Kearsarge on special service in pursuitof Alabama, 1863-64; sank Alabama, June 19, 1864; rear-admiral, 1870;died at Boston, Massachusetts, September 29, 1873. BUCHANAN, FRANKLIN. Born at Baltimore, Maryland, September 17, 1800;entered navy as midshipman, 1815; lieutenant, 1825; master-commandant, 1841; organized naval academy at Annapolis, 1845; at siege of Vera Cruz, 1847; commanded flagship in Perry's Japan expedition, 1852; captain, 1855; commandant Washington navy yard, 1859; entered Confederateservice, September, 1861; commanded Merrimac in Hampton Roads andTennessee in Mobile Bay; died in Talbot County, Maryland, May 11, 1874. WORDEN, JOHN LORIMER. Born in Westchester County, New York, March 12, 1818; entered navy, 1840; lieutenant, 1846; taken prisoner whilereturning North from Fort Pickens, 1861; released after seven months'captivity, and appointed to the Monitor; met Merrimac in Hampton Roads, March 9, 1862; received thanks of Congress and commissioned commander, July, 1862; captain, February, 1863; commodore, 1868; superintendent ofnaval academy, 1870-74; rear-admiral, 1872; retired, 1886; died atWashington, October 18, 1897. DEWEY, GEORGE. Born at Montpelier, Vermont, December 26, 1837; enterednaval academy, 1854; graduated, 1858; with Farragut on Mississippi, 1862; commander, 1872; captain, 1884; commodore, 1896; fought battle ofManila Bay, May 1, 1898; thanked by Congress and promoted rear-admiral, 1898; admiral, 1899. * * * * * INDEX Adams, John, 84, 89-92, 124, 174, 175, 177, 208, 263. Adams, John Quincy, 98-100, 109, 110, 125, 186. Adams, Samuel, 84, 175-178, 179, 208-209, 263. Allen, Eliza, 240-241. Allen, Ethan, 270. Anderson, Robert, 191. Arnold, Benedict, 267-271, 276, 277, 311-312, 313. Arthur, Chester Alan, 153, 166-167. Astor, John Jacob, 250. Atkinson, Henry, 303. Austin, Moses, 243. Bainbridge, William, 334, 337-340, 342, 343, 378. Banks, Nathaniel P. , 301. Barnes, James, 22. Barron, James, 337. Beauregard, Pierre, 304-305, 306, 317-318. Bee, Bernard E. , 299, 300. Benton, Jesse, 104. Benton, Thomas Hart, 191, 211. Berkeley, Lord, 62. Biddle, Nicholas, 322, 328, 377. Blaine, James G. , 151, 152, 153, 155, 186, 205-207, 213. Blakeley, Johnston, 342, 344-345, 379. Boggs, Charles Stuart, 370. Boone, Daniel, 215-221, 222, 223, 225, 226, 234, 258. Boone, Squire, 219. Booth, John Wilkes, 141-142, 164. Bowie, James, 18, 246-250, 260. Braddock, Edward, 82, 123, 267, 273, 275, 311. Bradford, William, 21, 54-57, 74. Bragg, Braxton, 308. Breckenridge, John C. , 138. Broke, Philip, 341. Brooks, Preston, 212. Brown, John, 122, 295, 316. Bryan, William Jennings, 160-161. Buchanan, Franklin, 356, 363-366, 381. Buchanan, James, 113, 121-123, 127-128, 191, 257. Buell, Don Carlos, 293. Burgoyne, John, 267-269, 270, 275, 311, 313, 325. Burnside, Ambrose E. , 285, 297, 314-315. Burr, Aaron, 179-183, 205, 209-210, 245. Butler, Benjamin, 355. Butler, Simon; see Kenton, Simon. Byllinge, Edward, 62. Cabot, John, 36-37, 40, 70. Cabot, Sebastian, 36-37, 70. Calhoun, John Caldwell, 21, 111, 115, 184-190, 201, 211. Carson, Kit, 265. Carteret, Sir George, 62. Cartier, Jacques, 39, 49, 72. Carver, Jonathan, 55. Cass, Lewis, 118, 191, 211. Catlin, George, 251. Champlain, Samuel, 49-51, 73. Chase, Salmon Portland, 200, 212. Clark, Charles E. , 376. Clark, George Rogers, 223, 225-232, 234, 235, 258. Clark, William, 235-237, 250, 259. Clay, Henry, 22, 99, 109, 114, 115, 116, 117, 184-190, 205, 206, 210. Cleveland, Grover, 154-159, 160, 164, 167. Columbus, Bartholomew, 26, 29. Columbus, Christopher, 16, 17, 19, 20, 25-36, 54, 69-70. Columbus, Diego, 29. Conkling, Roscoe, 205-206. Cornwallis, Charles, 85, 124, 272, 278, 311, 313, 328. Coronado, Francisco Vasquez de, 39, 72. Craven, Tunis Augustus Macdonough, 18, 360-361, 380. Crockett, David, 18, 246-250, 256, 260. Cushing, William B. , 370. Custer, George A. , 309. Custis, Mrs. Martha, 82, 123. Custis, Mary Randolph, 295. Custis, Washington Parke, 295. Cutler, Manasseh, 233. Davis, Jefferson, 139, 201-204, 213, 280, 303, 305, 306. Decatur, Stephen, 332-337, 339, 341, 377-378. Delaware, Thomas West, Lord, 48. De Leon, Juan Ponce, 38, 39, 71. Dewey, George, 370-376, 381. Dinwiddie, Robert, 80, 81. Douglas, Stephen A. , 133-136, 138, 164, 191-193, 211. Drake, Sir Francis, 38-39, 72. Early, Jubal Anderson, 291. Edwards, Jonathan, 180. Ericsson, John, 367. Evans, Robley D. , 376. Everett, Edward, 193-194, 211-212. Fairfax, Thomas, Lord, 78. Fairfax, William, 78. Fannin, James W. , 243. Farragut, David Glasgow, 15, 17, 22, 330, 351-360, 366, 370, 371-372, 373, 374, 376, 380, 381. Ferdinand of Aragon, 29, 31, 35. Fillmore, Millard, 119, 127. Fiske, John, 21, 22. Ford, Paul Leicester, 21. Franklin, Benjamin, 15, 21, 169-174, 207, 208, 325. Franklin, William Buel, 301. Frémont, John C. , 122, 198, 250, 251, 255-257, 261. Gage, Thomas, 175. Garfield, James Abram, 114, 152-153, 166, 206. Gates, Horatio, 267-269, 271, 272, 311, 312, 313. Gilbert, Sir Humphrey, 42. Gorman, Arthur P. , 157. Grant, Ulysses Simpson, 22, 141, 148-150, 152, 153, 165-166, 206, 280, 285, 286-288, 289, 290, 292, 293, 298, 303, 304, 306, 308, 310, 316, 317. Greeley, Horace, 139. Greene, Nathanael, 267, 272, 273, 276, 311, 312. Gridley, Charles Vernon, 373. Guiteau, Charles J. , 152-153, 166. Hale, Nathan, 18. Hamilton, Alexander, 21, 89, 91, 96, 179-183, 205, 209. Hamilton, Henry, 229. Hancock, John, 175-178, 209, 322, 323. Hancock, Winfield Scott, 293. Hanks, Nancy, 129-130. Hanna, Mark, 161. Harding, Chester, 221. Harrison, Benjamin, 157, 159-160, 167, 207. Harrison, William Henry, 114-115, 126, 148, 159, 186, 224, 350. Hay, John, 207. Hayes, Rutherford Birchard, 114, 151-152, 166, 201, 206. Hayne, Robert Young, 187, 188, 189. Heath, William, 266. Henderson, Richard, 218, 226. Henry, Patrick, 132, 178-179, 209, 226, 227. Heriot, Robert, 348. Herkimer, Nicholas, 267. Hill, A. P. , 299, 308. Hood, John Bell, 293, 316. Hooker, Joseph, 280, 285-286, 287, 297, 301, 315. Hopkins, Ezekial, 323. Houston, Felix, 317. Houston, Sam, 116, 238-246, 248, 259-260. Howard, Oliver Otis, 302. Hubbard, Elbert, 22. Hudson, Henry, 39-40, 59, 72-73. Hulburt, Archer Butler, 22. Hull, Isaac, 330-332, 340, 341, 377. Hull, William, 191, 330. Ingersoll, Robert G. , 206. Isabella of Castile, 29, 30, 31, 35. Jackson, Andrew, 15, 21, 99, 101-113, 114, 121, 122, 125-126, 148, 156, 163, 164, 186, 189, 190, 191, 239, 240, 241, 242, 244, 245, 246, 247, 279, 280, 281, 329, 352. Jackson, Thomas Jonathan, 22, 287, 290, 297, 299-302, 307, 308, 311, 317. James, Reuben, 335-336. Jay, John, 208. Jefferson, Thomas, 13, 21, 89, 90, 91, 92-95, 96, 98, 124, 155, 174, 178, 181, 227, 235, 236, 259, 276, 323. John II. , King of Portugal, 28. Johnson, Andrew, 143-148, 165, 196, 197, 199, 203, 212. Johnston, Albert Sidney, 280, 302-304, 311, 317, 318. Johnston, Joseph E. , 289-290, 296, 305-306, 308, 315, 318, 319. Joliet, Louis, 52, 73-74. Jones, John Paul, 320-328, 329, 344, 377. Jones, William, 321. Jones, William Paul, 321. Kearny, Stephen Watts, 257. Kenton, Simon, 221-225, 228, 234, 258. Kilpatrick, Hugh Judson, 293. King, Rufus, 97. La Salle, Robert Cavalier, 51-54, 73, 79. Lawrence, James, 18, 340-342, 347, 378. Lee, Charles, 266. Lee, "Light Horse Harry, " 272-274, 294, 311, 313. Lee, Robert Edward, 22, 141, 148, 149, 203, 274, 280, 283, 284, 285, 286, 289, 292, 294-299, 301, 302, 305, 306, 307, 308, 310, 315, 316-317. Lewis, Meriwether, 235-237, 250, 259. Lincoln, Abraham, 15, 16, 19, 21, 113, 129-143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 152, 164-165, 192, 193, 198-199, 200, 257, 289. Lincoln, Thomas, 129-131. Lodge, Henry Cabot, 21. Longstreet, James, 306-307, 318. Lovejoy, Amos, 253. Lowell, James Russell, 143. Lummis, Charles F. , 21. McCardle, Eliza, 144-145. Maclay, Edward Stanton, 22. McClellan, George B. , 282-286, 287, 296, 297, 301, 305, 307, 314, 318. Macdonough, Thomas, 342, 345-346, 379. McDowell, Irwin, 301, 305. McKinley, William, 159, 161-163, 167, 168. McPherson, James Birdseye, 293. Madison, James, 95-97, 125, 340. Magellan, Ferdinand, 38, 71. Magruder, John Bankhead, 308. Mansfield, Joseph King Fenno, 301. Marchena, Juan Perez de, 30. Marion, Francis, 272-273, 311, 312. Marquette, Jacques, 52, 74. Marshall, Humphrey, 166. Marshall, James Wilson, 255. Marshall, John, 183-184, 210. Meade, George G. , 280, 286, 293. Milam, Benjamin R. , 243. Miles, Nelson A. , 309-310, 319. Minuit, Peter, 59. Monroe, James, 89, 97-98, 125, 158, 189, 201, 211. Montgomery, Richard, 266. Moody, William, 251. Morris, Robert, 174. Newport, Christopher, 43, 44, 46. Nicolet, Jean, 51, 73. Oglethorpe, James, 66-69, 75. Ortiz, Juan, 45. Pakenham, Edward Michael, 106, 107, 108. Parker, Theodore, 23. Parkman, Francis, 20, 21. Paul, John, 321. Paul, John; see Jones, John Paul. Paul, William, 321. Pearson, Richard, 320, 326, 327. Pemberton, John Clifford, 308. Penn, William, 21, 62-66, 74. Perry, Matthew Calbraith, 350-351, 364, 379, 381. Perry, Oliver Hazard, 346-350, 379. Philip, John W. , 376. Philip, King, 41. Pierce, Benjamin, 119. Pierce, Franklin Scott, 114, 119-121, 127, 200, 280, 282. Pike, Zebulon, 237, 259. Pocahontas, 45, 46. Polk, James Knox, 114, 116-117, 126-127, 281. Pomeroy, Seth, 266. Pope, John, 293, 297, 301, 307. Porter, David, 352. Porter, David, jr. , 329-330, 345, 352-353, 377, 380. Porter, David Dixon, 370. Powhatan, The, 41, 45. Preble, Edward, 333, 334, 339, 342-343, 378. Putnam, Elizabeth, 263. Putnam, Israel, 232, 263-266, 311. Putnam, Joseph, 263. Putnam, Rufus, 232-234, 258-259. Raleigh, Sir Walter, 42-43. Reed, Deborah, 171-172. Revere, Paul, 175. Rolfe, John, 46. Roosevelt, Theodore, 162-163, 167-168. Root, Elihu, 207. Rosecrans, William Starke, 293. Rusk, Thomas Jefferson, 244, 245. St. Clair, Arthur, 233, 274-276, 313. St. Leger, Barry, 270. Saltonstall, Dudley, 323. Sampson, William Thomas, 376. Santa Anna, 127, 243, 244, 245, 248, 249, 281. Santangel, Luis de, 30, 31. Schley, Winfield Scott, 376. Schuyler, Philip John, 267, 311. Scott, Winfield, 119, 120, 188, 245, 280-282, 292, 295, 305, 310, 314. Scudder, Horace E. , 21. Semmes, Raphael, 361-363, 380. Seward, William H. , 137, 194-200, 212. Shaw, Robert Gould, 18. Sheridan, Philip Henry, 287, 290-292, 293, 294, 307, 308, 311, 315-316. Sherman, John, 152, 199, 200-201, 212-213. Sherman, William Tecumseh, 280, 287-290, 292, 293, 304, 305, 306, 308, 309, 315, 316, 318, 319. Skelton, Martha, 93. Smith, John, 21, 43-49, 73, 76. Soto, Hernando de, 39, 45, 72. Spalding, H. H. , 251. Spencer, Joseph, 266. Stark, John, 267. Stephens, Alexander H. , 201-205, 213. Stevens, Thaddeus, 147, 194-200, 201, 212. Stewart, Charles, 342, 343, 378. Stuart, J. E. B. , 296, 307-308, 318-319. Stuyvesant, Peter, 21, 60-62, 74. Sullivan, John, 266. Sumner, Charles, 194-200, 212. Sumner, Edwin Vose, 293, 301. Sumter, Thomas, 102, 272-273, 312. Sutter, John Augustus, 250, 254-256, 260-261. Taft, William Howard, 163, 168. Tarleton, Guy, 272, 312. Taylor, Henry C. , 376. Taylor, Zachary, 22, 114, 118-119, 120, 127, 148, 202, 280, 281. Tecumseh, 115. Thomas, George H. , 280, 292-293, 316. Thomas, John, 266. Tilden, Samuel J. , 151. Todd, Dolly Payne, 96. Todd, Mary, 132. Toscanelli, Paolo del Pozzo, 27, 32. Travis, William Barrett, 18, 243, 246-250, 260. Tyler, John, 115-116, 126, 211. Van Buren, Martin, 113-114, 115, 118, 126, 191. Veach, William, 221. Vespucci, Amerigo, 37, 71. Wainwright, Richard, 376. Ward, Artemus, 266. Washington, Augustine, 76, 77, 78. Washington, George, 14, 15, 16, 17, 19, 21, 22, 76-89, 90, 92, 93, 97, 123-124, 129, 137, 150, 164, 174, 175, 177, 180, 181, 183, 194, 209, 262, 266, 269, 271, 272, 274, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 282, 295, 310, 312. Washington, Lawrence, 76, 78, 79, 83. Wayne, Anthony, 224, 234, 258, 259, 276-279, 313-314. Webster, Daniel, 21, 110, 184-190, 193, 194, 198, 210. Welles, Gideon, 364. Wesley, Charles, 68. Wheeler, Joseph, 309, 319. Whitfield, George, 69. Whitman, Marcus, 117, 250-254, 260. Whittier, John G. , 257. Williams, Roger, 57-59, 74. Wilson, Woodrow, 21. Winslow, John Ancrum, 361-363, 380-381. Wooster, David, 266. Worden, John Lorimer, 367-370, 381. York, Duke of, 61, 62, 63, 64. * * * * *