[Illustration: BATTLE OF ANTIETAM. ]

 Édition d'Élite

 Historical Tales The Romance of Reality

 By CHARLES MORRIS

 _Author of "Half-Hours with the Best American Authors, " "Tales from the Dramatists, " etc. _

 IN FIFTEEN VOLUMES Volume II

 American 2

 J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY PHILADELPHIA AND LONDON

Copyright, 1904, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 

Copyright, 1908, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 

 _CONTENTS. _

 PAGE

 PONCE DE LEON AND THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH 7

 DE SOTO AND THE FATHER OF WATERS 13

 THE LOST COLONY OF ROANOKE 23

 THE THRILLING ADVENTURE OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 29

 THE INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA 40

 THE GREAT REBELLION IN THE OLD DOMINION 49

 CHEVALIER LA SALLE THE EXPLORER OF THE MISSISSIPPI 62

 THE FRENCH OF LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ INDIANS 76

 THE KNIGHTS OF THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE 88

 HOW OGLETHORPE SAVED GEORGIA FROM SPAIN 95

 A BOY'S WORKING HOLIDAY IN THE WILDWOOD 104

 PATRICK HENRY, THE HERALD OF THE REVOLUTION 113

 GOVERNOR TRYON AND THE CAROLINA REGULATORS 124

 LORD DUNMORE AND THE GUNPOWDER 135

 THE FATAL EXPEDITION OF COLONEL ROGERS 145

 HOW COLONEL CLARK WON THE NORTHWEST 153

 KING'S MOUNTAIN AND THE PATRIOTS OF TENNESSEE 166

 GENERAL GREENE'S FAMOUS RETREAT 171

 ELI WHITNEY, THE INVENTOR OF THE COTTON-GIN 185

 HOW OLD HICKORY FOUGHT THE CREEKS 193

 THE PIRATES OF BARATARIA BAY 206

 THE HEROES OF THE ALAMO 217

 HOW HOUSTON WON FREEDOM FOR TEXAS 225

 CAPTAIN ROBERT E. LEE AND THE LAVA-BEDS 231

 A CHRISTMAS DAY ON THE PLANTATION 241

 CAPTAIN GORDON AND THE RACCOON ROUGHS 252

 STUART'S FAMOUS CHAMBERSBURG RAID 261

 FORREST'S CHASE OF THE RAIDERS 277

 EXPLOITS OF A BLOCKADE-RUNNER 291

 FONTAIN, THE SCOUT, AND THE BESIEGERS OF VICKSBURG 302

 GORDON AND THE BAYONET CHARGE AT ANTIETAM 311

 THE LAST TRIUMPH OF STONEWALL JACKSON 319

 JOHN MORGAN'S FAMOUS RAID 331

 HOME-COMING OF GENERAL LEE AND HIS VETERANS 347

 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

 AMERICAN. VOLUME II. 

 PAGE

 BATTLE OF ANTIETAM _Frontispiece. _

 ALONG THE COAST OF FLORIDA 9

 DE SOTO DISCOVERING THE MISSISSIPPI 19

 POCAHONTAS 32

 JAMESTOWN RUIN 54

 COALING A MOVING BOAT ON THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER 73

 OLD SPANISH FORT, ST. AUGUSTINE 98

 HOME OF MARY WASHINGTON, FREDERICKSBURG, VA 108

 HOME OF PATRICK HENRY DURING HIS LAST TWO TERMS AS GOVERNOR OF VIRGINIA 114

 ST. JOHN'S CHURCH 122

 OLD MAGAZINE AT WILLIAMSBURG 138

 VIEW IN THE NORTHWESTERN MOUNTAINS 155

 COTTON-GIN 186

 JACKSON'S BIRTHPLACE 198

 THE ALAMO 218

 COTTON FIELD ON SOUTHERN PLANTATION 242

 COLONIAL MANSION 262

 GORDON HOUSE 316

 TRIUMPH OF STONEWALL JACKSON 323

 LEE'S HOUSE AT RICHMOND 348

_PONCE DE LEON AND THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. _

A golden Easter day was that of the far-away year 1513, when a smallfleet of Spanish ships, sailing westward from the green Bahamas, firstcame in sight of a flower-lined shore, rising above the blue Atlanticwaves, and seeming to smile a welcome as the mariners gazed with eyes ofjoy and hope on the inviting arcades of its verdant forest depths. Neverhad the eyes of white men beheld this land of beauty before. Englishships had sailed along the coast to the north, finding much of it bleakand uninviting. The caravels of Columbus had threaded the glowing lineof tropic isles, and later ships had borne settlers to these lands ofpromise. But the rich southlands of the continent had never before beenseen, and well was this unknown realm of beauty named Florida by theSpanish chief, whether by this name he meant to call it the "land offlowers" or referred to the Spanish name for Easter, Pascua Florida. However that be, he was the first of the discoverers to set foot on thesoil of the great coming republic of the United States, and it is ofinterest that this was done within the domain of the sunny South. 

The weight of half a century of years lay upon the shoulders of JuanPonce de Leon, the discoverer, but warm hope burned in his heart, thatof winning renewed boyhood and youthful strength, for it was a magicvision that drew him to these new shores, in whose depths he felt surethe realm of enchantment lay. Somewhere amid those green copses or alongthose liquid streams, he had been told, a living fountain sprang upclear and sparkling from the earth, its waters of such a marvellousquality that whoever should bathe in them would feel new life coursingthrough his veins and the vigor of youth bounding along his limbs. Itwas the Fountain of Youth he sought, that fabled fountain of which menhad dreamed for centuries, and which was thought to lie somewhere ineastern Asia. Might not its waters upspring in this new land, whosediscovery was the great marvel of the age, and which men looked upon asthe unknown east of Asia? Such was the new-comer's dream. 

Ponce de Leon was a soldier and cavalier of Spain in those days whenSpain stood first among the nations of Europe, first in strength andenterprise and daring. Brave as the bravest, he had fought withdistinguished courage against the Moors of Granada at the time whenColumbus was setting out on his famous voyage over the unknown seas ofthe West. Drawn by the fame of the discovery of the New World, De Leonsailed with Columbus in his second voyage, and proved himself a gallantsoldier in the wars for the conquest of Hispaniola, of whose easternhalf he was made governor. 

To the eastward lay another island, the fair tropic land ever sinceknown as Porto Rico. De Leon could see from the high hills of Hispaniolathe far green shores of this island, which he invaded and finallysubdued in 1509, making himself its governor. A stern oppressor of thenatives, he won great wealth from his possessions here and inHispaniola. But, like many men in his position, his heart was sore fromthe loss of the youthful vigor which would have enabled him to enjoy tothe full his new-found wealth. 

[Illustration: ALONG THE COAST OF FLORIDA. ]

Could he but discover the wondrous fountain of youth and plunge in itslife-giving waters! Was not this the region in which it was said to lie?He eagerly questioned the Indians about it, and was told by them thatthey had often heard of such a fountain somewhere not far to the north. It is probable enough that the Indians were ready to tell anything, false or true, that would rid them of the unwelcome Spaniards; but itmay be that among their many fables they believed that such a fountainexisted. However that may be, De Leon gladly heard their story, and lostno time in going forth like a knight errant in quest of the magic fount. On March 3, 1513, he sailed with three ships from Porto Rico, and, afterthreading the fair Bahama Islands, landing on those of rarest tropiccharm, he came on Easter Sunday, March 27, in sight of the beautifulland to which he gave the name of Florida. 

Bad weather kept him for a time from the shore, and it was not untilApril 9 that he was able to land. It was near the mouth of the St. JohnRiver, not far from where St. Augustine now stands, that he set foot onshore, the first white man's foot to tread the soil of the coming UnitedStates since the days of the Northmen, five centuries before. He calledhis place of landing the Bay of the Cross, and took possession of theland for the king of Spain, setting up a stone cross as a sign ofSpain's jurisdiction. 

And now the eager cavalier began the search for that famous fount whichwas to give him perpetual youth. It is not likely he was alone in this, probably most of his followers being as eager as he, for in those daysmagic was firmly believed in by half of mankind, and many wild fancieswere current which no one now accepts. Deep into the dense woodland theyplunged, wandering through verdant miles, bathing in every spring andstream they met, led on and on by the hope that some one of these mighthold the waters of youth. Doubtless they fancied that the fountainsought would have some special marks, something to distinguish it fromthe host of common springs. But this might not be the case. The mostprecious things may lie concealed under the plainest aspect, like thefabled jewel in the toad's forehead, and it was certainly wisest to letno waters pass untried. 

Months passed on. Southward along the coast they sailed, landing hereand there and penetrating inland, still hopeful of finding the enchantedspring. But wherever it might lie hidden, they found it not, for themarks of age which nature had brought clung to them still, and abitterly disappointed man was Juan Ponce de Leon when he turned theprows of his ships away from the new-found shores and sailed back toPorto Rico. 

The Will-o'-the-wisp he sought had baffled him, yet something of worthremained, for he had made a discovery of importance, the "Island ofFlorida, " as he called it and thought it to be. To Spain he went withthe news of his voyage, and told the story of his discovery to KingFerdinand, to whom Columbus had told his wonderful tale some twentyyears before. The king at once appointed him governor of Florida, andgave him full permission to plant a colony in the new land--continent orisland as it might prove to be. 

De Leon may still have nourished hopes in his heart of finding thefabled fountain when, in 1521, he returned to plant the colony grantedby the king. But the natives of Florida had seen enough of the Spaniardsin their former visit, and now met them with arrows instead of flowersand smiles. Fierce fights ensued, and their efforts to establishthemselves on the new shores proved in vain. In the end their leaderreceived so severe an arrow wound that he withdrew and left to thevictorious Indians the ownership of their land. The arrow was poisoned, and his wound proved mortal. In a short time after reaching Cuba hedied, having found death instead of youth in the land of flowers. 

We may quote the words of the historian Robertson in support of thefancy which led De Leon in the path of discovery: "The Spaniards, atthat period, were engaged in a career of activity which gave a romanticturn to their imagination and daily presented to them strange andmarvellous objects. A new world was opened to their view. They visitedislands and continents of whose existence mankind in former ages had noconception. In those delightful countries nature seemed to assumeanother form; every tree and plant and animal was different from thoseof the ancient hemisphere. They seemed to be transported into enchantedground; and, after the wonders which they had seen, nothing, in thewarmth and novelty of their imagination, appeared to them soextraordinary as to be beyond belief. If the rapid succession of new andstriking scenes made such impression on the sound understanding ofColumbus that he boasted of having found the seat of Paradise, it willnot appear strange that Ponce de Leon should dream of discovering thefountain of youth. "

All we need say farther is that the first attempt to colonize the shoresof the great republic of the future years ended in disaster and death. Yet De Leon's hope was not fully amiss, for in our own day many seekthat flowery land in quest of youthful strength. They do not now hope tofind it by bathing in any magic fountain, but it comes to them bybreathing its health-giving atmosphere and basking in its magic clime. 

_DE SOTO AND THE FATHER OF WATERS. _

America was to the Spaniards the land of gold. Everywhere they lookedfor the yellow metal, more precious in their eyes than anything else theearth yields. The wonderful adventures of Cortez in Mexico and ofPizarro in Peru, and the vast wealth in gold found by those sons offame, filled their people with hope and avarice, and men of enterprisebegan to look elsewhere for great and rich Indian nations to subdue andplunder. 

North of the Gulf of Mexico lay a vast, mysterious region, which in timeto come was to be the seat of a great and mighty nation. To theSpaniards it was a land of enchantment, the mystic realm of the unknown, perhaps rich in marvels and wealthy beyond their dreams. It was fabledto contain the magic fountain of youth, the hope to bathe in whosepellucid waters lured Ponce de Leon to his death. Another explorer, DeAyllon, sailed north of Florida, seeking a sacred stream which was saidto possess the same enchanted powers. A third, De Narvaez, went far intothe country, with more men than Cortez led to the conquest of Mexico, but after months of wandering only a handful of his men returned, andnot a grain of gold was found to pay for their suffering. 

But these failures only stirred the cavaliers of Spain to new thirstfor adventure and gain. They had been told of fertile plains, ofsplendid tropical forests, of the beauty of the Indian maidens, ofromantic incidents and hair-breadth escapes, of the wonderful influenceexercised by a white man on tribes of dusky warriors, and who knew whatfairy marvels or unimagined wealth might be found in the deep interiorof this land of hope and mystery. Thus when Hernando de Soto, who hadbeen with Pizarro in Peru and seen its gold-plated temples, called forvolunteers to explore and conquer the unknown northland, hundreds ofaspiring warriors flocked to his standard, burning with love ofadventure and filled with thirst for gold. 

On the 30th of May, 1539, De Soto, with nine vessels and six or sevenhundred well-armed followers, sailed into Tampa Bay, on the Gulf coastof Florida. Here they at once landed and marched inland, greedy to reachand grasp the spectral image of gold which floated before their eyes. Adaring but a cruel man was this new adventurer. He brought with himblood-hounds to hunt the Indians and chains to fetter them. A drove ofhogs was brought to supply the soldiers with fresh meat. They wereprovided with horses, with fire-arms, with cannon, with steel armor, with everything to overawe and overcome the woodland savages. Yet twothings they needed; these were judgment and discretion. It would havebeen wise to make friends of the Indians. Instead, by their cruelty, they turned them into bitter and relentless enemies. So wherever theywent they had bold and fierce foes to fight, and wounds and death markedtheir pathway across the land. 

Let us follow De Soto and his men into the realm of the unknown. Theyhad not gone far before a strange thing happened. Out of a crowd ofdusky Indians a white man rode on horseback to join them, makinggestures of delight. He was a Spaniard, Juan Ortiz by name, one of theNarvaez band, who had been held in captivity among the Indians for tenyears. He knew the Indian language well and offered himself as aninterpreter and guide. Heaven seemed to have sent him, for he was wortha regiment to the Spaniards. 

Juan Ortiz had a strange story to tell. Once his captors had sought toburn him alive by a slow fire as a sacrifice to the evil spirit. Boundhand and foot, he was laid on a wooden stage and a fire kindled underhim. But at this moment of frightful peril the daughter of the chieftainbegged for his life, and her father listened to her prayer. Three yearslater the savage captors again decided to burn him, and again the duskymaiden saved his life. She warned him of his danger and led him to thecamp of another chief. Here he stayed till the Spaniards came. Whatbecame of the warm-hearted maiden we are not told. She did not win thefame of the Pocahontas of a later day. 

Many and strange were the adventures of the Spaniards as they wentdeeper and deeper into the new land of promise. Misfortune trackedtheir footsteps and there was no glitter of gold to cheer their hearts. A year passed over their heads and still the land of gold lay far away. An Indian offered to lead them to a distant country, governed by awoman, telling them that there they would find abundance of a yellowmetal. Inspired by hope, they now pushed eagerly forward, but the yellowmetal proved to be copper instead of gold, and their high hopes werefollowed by the gloom of disappointment and despair. But wherever theywent their trail was marked by blood and pillage, and the story of theirruthless deeds stirred up the Indians in advance to bitter hostility. 

Fear alone made any of the natives meet them with a show of peace, andthis they repaid by brutal deeds. One of their visitors was an Indianqueen--as they called her--the woman chief of a tribe of the South. Whenthe Spaniards came near her domain she hastened to welcome them, hopingby this means to make friends of her dreaded visitors. Borne in a litterby four of her subjects, the dusky princess alighted before De Soto andcame forward with gestures of pleasure, as if delighted to welcome herguests. Taking from her neck a heavy double string of pearls, she hungit on that of the Spanish leader. De Soto accepted it with the courtlygrace of a cavalier, and pretended friendship while he questioned hishostess. 

But he no sooner obtained the information he wanted than he made her aprisoner, and at once began to rob her and her people of all thevaluables they possessed. Chief among these were large numbers ofpearls, most of them found in the graves of the distinguished men of thetribe. But the plunderers did not gain all they hoped for by their actof vandalism, for the poor queen managed to escape from her guards, andin her flight took with her a box of the most valuable of the pearls. They were those which De Soto had most prized and he was bitterly stungby their loss. 

The adventurers were now near the Atlantic, on ground which had beentrodden by whites before, and they decided to turn inland and explorethe country to the west. After months more of wandering, and the loss ofmany men through their battles with the Indians, they found themselvesin the autumn of 1540 at a large village called Mavilla. It stood wherestands to-day the city of Mobile. Here a large force of Indians wasgathered. 

The Indian chief or cacique met De Soto with a show of friendship, andinduced him and a few of his men to follow him within the palisadeswhich surrounded the village. No sooner had they got there than thechief shouted some words of insult in his own tongue and darted into oneof the houses. A minor chief got into a dispute with a Spanish soldier, who, in the usual Spanish fashion, carried forward the argument with ablow from his sword. This served as a signal for hostilities. In aninstant clouds of arrows poured from the houses, and before theSpaniards could escape nearly the whole of them were slain. Only DeSoto and a few others got out with their lives from the trap into whichthey had been beguiled. 

Filled with revengeful rage, the Spanish forces now invested andassailed the town, and a furious conflict began, lasting for nine hours. In the end the whites, from their superior weapons and organization, wonthe victory. But theirs was a costly triumph, for many of them hadfallen and nearly all their property had been destroyed. Mavilla wasburned and hosts of the Indians were killed, but the Spaniards were in aterrible situation, far from their ships, without medicine or food, andsurrounded by brave and furious enemies. 

The soldiers felt that they had had enough adventure of this kind, andclamored to be led back to their ships. De Soto had been advised thatthe ships were then in the Bay of Pensacola, only six days' journey fromMavilla, but he kept this a secret from his men, for hopes of fame andwealth still filled his soul. In the end, despite their entreaties, heled the men to the north, spending the winter in a small village of theChickasaw Indians. 

When spring opened the adventurers resumed their journey into theunknown. In his usual forcible fashion De Soto seized on Indians tocarry his baggage, and in this way he brought on a violent battle, inwhich the whites met with a serious defeat and were in imminent dangerof annihilation. Not a man of them would have lived to tell the tale ifthe savages had not been so scared at their own success that they drewback just when they had the hated Spaniards in their power. 

[Illustration: DE SOTO DISCOVERING THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER. ]

A strange-looking army was that which the indomitable De Soto ledforward from this place. Many of the uniforms of the men had beencarried off by the enemy, and these were replaced with skins and matsmade of ivy-leaves, so that the adventurers looked more like forestbraves than Christian warriors. But onward still they trudged, sick atheart many of them, but obeying the orders of their resolute chief, andin the blossoming month of May they made that famous discovery by whichthe name of Hernando de Soto has ever since been known. For they stoodon the banks of one of the mightiest rivers of the earth, the greatFather of Waters, the grand Mississippi. From thousands of miles to thenorth had come the waters which now rolled onward in a mighty volumebefore their eyes, hastening downward to bury themselves in the stilldistant Gulf. 

A discovery such as this might have been enough to satisfy the cravingsof any ordinary man, but De Soto, in his insatiable greed for gold, sawin the glorious stream only an obstacle to his course, "half a leagueover. " To build boats and cross the stream was the one purpose thatfilled his mind, and with much labor they succeeded in getting acrossthe great stream themselves and the few of their horses that remained. 

At once the old story began again. The Indians beyond the Mississippihad heard of the Spaniards and their methods, and met them withrelentless hostility. They had hardly landed on the opposite shorebefore new battles began. As for the Indian empire, with great cities, civilized inhabitants, and heaps of gold, which Be Soto so ardentlysought, it seemed as far off as ever, and he was a sadly disappointedman as he led the miserable remnant of his once well-equipped andhopeful followers up the left bank of the great stream, dreams of wealthand renown not yet quite driven from his mind. 

At length they reached the region of the present State of Missouri. Herethe simple-minded people took the white strangers to be children of theSun, the god of their worship, and they brought out their blind, hopingto have them restored to sight by a touch from the healing hands ofthese divine visitors. Leaving after a time these superstitious tribes, De Soto led his men to the west, lured on still by the phantom of awealthy Indian realm, and the next winter was passed near where LittleRock, Arkansas, is now built. 

Spring returned at length, and the weary wanderings of the devoted bandwere resumed. Depressed, worn-out, hopeless, they trudged onward, hardlya man among them looking for aught but death in those forest wilds. JuanOrtiz, the most useful man in the band, died, and left the enterprisestill more hopeless. But De Soto, worn, sick, emaciated, was indomitablestill and the dream of a brilliant success lingered as ever in hisbrain. He tried now to win over the Indians by pretending to beimmortal and to be gifted with supernatural powers, but it was too lateto make them credit any such fantastic notion. 

The band encamped in an unhealthy spot near the great river. Heredisease attacked the men; scouts were sent out to seek a better place, but they found only trackless woods and rumors of Indian bands creepingstealthily up on all sides to destroy what remained of the little armyof whites. 

Almost for the first time De Soto's resolute mind now gave way. Brokendown by his many labors and cares, perhaps assailed by the disease thatwas attacking his men, he felt that death was near at hand. Callingaround him the sparse remnant of his once gallant company, he humblybegged their pardon for the sufferings and evils he had brought uponthem, and named Luis de Alvaredo to succeed him in command. The nextday, May 21, 1542, the unfortunate hero died. Thus passed away one ofthe three greatest Spanish explorers of the New World, a man as great inhis way and as indomitable in his efforts as his rivals, Cortez andPizarro, though not so fortunate in his results. For three years he hadled his little band through a primitive wilderness, fighting his waysteadily through hosts of savage foes, and never yielding until the handof death was laid upon his limbs. 

Fearing a fierce attack from the savages if they should learn that the"immortal" chief of the whites was dead, Alvaredo had him buriedsecretly outside the walls of the camp. But the new-made grave wassuspicious. The prowling Indians might dig it up and discover the notedform it held. To prevent this, Alvaredo had the body of De Soto dug upin the night, wrapped it in cloths filled with sand, and dropped it intothe Mississippi, to whose bottom it immediately sank. Thus was the greatriver he had discovered made the famous explorer's final resting-place. 

With the death of De Soto the work of the explorers was practically atan end. To the Indians who asked what had become of the Child of theSun, Alvaredo answered that he had gone to heaven for a visit, but wouldsoon return. Then, while the Indians waited this return of the chief, the camp was broken up and the band set out again on a westward course, hoping to reach the Pacific coast, whose distance they did not dream. Months more passed by in hopeless wandering, then back to the greatriver they came and spent six months more in building boats, as theirlast hope of escape. 

On the 2d of July, 1543, the scanty remnant of the once powerful bandembarked on the waters of the great river, and for seventeen daysfloated downward, while the Indians on the bank poured arrows on themincessantly as they passed. Fifty days later a few haggard, half-nakedsurvivors of De Soto's great expedition landed at the Spanish settlementof Panuco in Mexico. They had long been given up as lost, and werereceived as men risen from the grave. 

_THE LOST COLONY OF ROANOKE. _

In the year 1584 two wandering vessels, like the caravels of Columbus acentury earlier, found themselves in the vicinity of a new land; not, asin the case of Columbus, by seeing twigs and fruit floating on thewater, but in the more poetical way of being visited, while far at sea, by a sweet fragrance, as of a delicious garden full of perfumed flowers. A garden it was, planted not by the hand of man, but by that of nature, on the North Carolinian shores. For this was the first expedition sentout by Sir Walter Raleigh, the earliest of Englishmen to attempt tosettle the new-discovered continent, and it was at that season as trulya land of flowers as the more southern Florida. 

The ships soon reached shore at a beautiful island called by the IndiansWocokon, where the mariners gazed with wonder and delight on the scenethat lay before them. Wild flowers, whose perfume had reached theirsenses while still two days' sail from land, thickly carpeted the soil, and grapes grew so plentifully that the ocean waves, as they broke uponthe strand, dashed their spray upon the thick-growing clusters. "Theforests formed themselves into wonderfully beautiful bowers, frequentedby multitudes of birds. It was like a Garden of Eden, and the gentle, friendly inhabitants appeared in unison with the scene. On the islandof Roanoke they were received by the wife of the king, and entertainedwith Arcadian hospitality. "

When these vessels returned to England and the mariners told of whatthey had seen, the people were filled with enthusiasm. Queen Elizabethwas so delighted with what was said of the beauty of the country thatshe gave it the name of Virginia, in honor of herself as a virgin queen. The next year a larger expedition was sent out, carrying one hundred andfifty colonists, who were to form the vanguard of the British dominionin the New World. 

They found the land all they had been told. Ralph Lane, the governor, wrote home: "It is the goodliest soil under the cope of heaven; the mostpleasing territory in the world; the continent is of a huge and unknowngreatness, and very well peopled and towned, though savagely. Theclimate is so wholesome that we have none sick. If Virginia had buthorses and kine, and were inhabited by Englishmen, no realm inChristendom were comparable with it. "

But they did not find the natives so kindly disposed as in the yearbefore, and no wonder; for the first thing the English did after landingon Roanoke Island was to accuse the Indians of stealing a silver cup, for which they took revenge by burning a village and destroying thestanding corn. Whether this method was copied from the Spaniards or not, it proved a most unwise one, for at once the colonists found themselvessurrounded by warlike foes, instead of in intercourse with confidingfriends. 

The English colonists had the same fault as those of Spain. The storiesof the wonderful wealth of Mexico and Peru had spread far and wide overEurope, and the thirst for gold was in all hearts. Instead of plantinggrain and building homes, the new-comers sought the yellow evil far andwide, almost as if they expected the soil to be paved with it. TheIndians were eagerly questioned and their wildest stories believed. Asthe natives of Porto Rico had invented a magic fountain to ridthemselves of Ponce de Leon and his countrymen, so those of Roanoke toldmarvellous fables to lure away the unwelcome English. The Roanoke River, they said, gushed forth from a rock so near the western ocean that instorms the salt sea-water was hurled into the fresh-water stream. Faraway on its banks there dwelt a nation rich in gold, and inhabiting acity the walls of which glittered with precious pearls. 

Lane himself, whom we may trust to have been an educated man, acceptedthese tales of marvel as readily as the most ignorant of his people. Intruth, he had much warrant for it in the experience of the Spaniards. Taking a party of the colonists, he ascended the river in search of thegolden region. On and on they went, finding nothing but the unendingforest, hearing nothing but the cries of wild beasts and the Indianwar-cries, but drawn onward still by hope until their food ran out andbitter famine assailed them. Then, after being forced to kill theirdogs for food, they came back again, much to the disappointment of theIndians, who fancied they were well rid of their troublesome guests. 

As the settlers were not to be disposed of by fairy-stories of cities ofgold, the natives now tried another plan. They resolved to plant no morecorn, so that the English must either go away or starve. Lane madematters worse by a piece of foolish and useless cruelty. Wisdom shouldhave taught him to plant corn himself. But what he did was to invite theIndians to a conference, and then to attack them, sword in hand, andkill the chief, with many braves of the tribe. He might have expectedwhat followed. The furious natives at once cut off all supplies from thecolonists, and they would have died of hunger if Sir Francis Drake, inone of his expeditions, had not just then appeared with a large fleet. 

Here ended the first attempt to plant an English colony in America. Drake, finding the people in a desperate state, took them in his shipsand sailed with them for England. Hardly had they gone before otherships came and the missing colonists were sought for in vain. Thenfifteen men were left on the island to hold it for England, and theships returned. 

In 1587 Raleigh's last colony reached Roanoke Island. This time he tookcare to send farmers instead of gold-seekers, and sent with them asupply of farming tools. But it was not encouraging when they lookedfor the fifteen men left the year before to find only some of theirbones, while their fort was a ruin and their deserted dwellingsovergrown with vines. The Indians had taken revenge on their oppressors. One event of interest took place before the ship returned, the birth ofthe first English child born in America. In honor of the name which thequeen had given the land, this little waif was called Virginia Dare. 

Now we come to the story of the mysterious fate of this second Englishcolony. When the ships which had borne it to Roanoke went back toEngland they found that island in an excited state. The great SpanishArmada was being prepared to invade and conquer Elizabeth's realm, andhasty preparations were making to defend the British soil. The fate ofthe Armada is well known. England triumphed. But several years passedbefore Raleigh, who was now deep laden with debt, was able to send out avessel to the relief of his abandoned colonists. 

When the people sent by him landed on the island, they looked aroundthem in dismay. Here were no happy homes, no smiling fields, no bustlingcolonists. The island was deserted. What had become of the inhabitantswas not easy to guess. Not even their bones had been left, as in thecase of the hapless fifteen, though many relics of their dwelling-placeswere found. The only indication of their fate was the single word"Croatan" cut into the bark of a tree. 

Croatan was the name of an island not far from that on which they were, but it was the stormy season of the year, and John White, the captain, made this an excuse for not venturing there. So he sailed again for homewith only the story of a vanished colony. 

From that time to this the fate of the colony has been a mystery. Notrace of any of its members was ever found. If they had made their wayto Croatan, they were never seen there. Five times the noble-heartedRaleigh sent out ships to search for them, but all in vain; they hadgone past finding; the forest land had swallowed them up. 

It has been conjectured that they had mingled with a friendly tribe ofIndians and become children of the forest like their hosts. Sometradition of this kind remained among the Indians, and it has beenfancied that the Hatteras Indians showed traces of English blood. Butall this is conjecture, and the fate of the lost colonists of Roanokemust remain forever unknown. 

_THE THRILLING ADVENTURE OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. _

For those who love stories of the Indians, and the strange and perilousadventures of white men in dealing with the forest tribes, we cannot dobetter than give a remarkable anecdote of life in the Virginia woodlandsthree centuries ago. 

On a day near the opening of the winter of 1608 a small boat, in whichwere several men, might have been seen going up the James River underthe shadow of the high trees that bordered its banks. 

They came at length to a point where a smaller stream flowed into theJames, wide at its mouth but soon growing narrow. Into this the boat wasturned and rowed briskly onward, under the direction of the leader ofthe expedition. They were soon in the heart of the wildwood, whose denseforest growth clustered thickly on either bank of the stream, which ranin a narrow silver thread through the green wilderness. The stream theypursued is that now known as the Chickahominy River, so called from anIndian tribe of that name, the most daring and warlike of all thesavages of the region. 

As they went on the stream grew narrower still, and in time became soshallow that the boat could go no farther. As they sat there in doubt, debating what had better be done, the bushes by the waterside werethrust aside and dusky faces looked out upon them through the leaves. The leader of the whites beckoned to them and two men stepped out of thebushy thicket, making signs of great friendliness. They pointed to thelarge boat, and indicated by gestures that they had smaller craft nearat hand and would lend one to the whites if they wished to go fartherup. They would go along with them and show them the way. 

The leader of the party of whites was named John Smith. This is a verycommon name, but he was the one John Smith who has made the name famousin history. He had met many Indians before and found most of themfriendly, but he had never seen any of the Chickahominies and did notknow that they were enemies to the whites. So he accepted the offer ofthe Indians. The boat was taken back down the stream to a sort of widebay where he thought it would be safe. Here the Indians brought him oneof their light but strong canoes. Smith wanted to explore the streamhigher up, and, thinking that he could trust these very friendly lookingred men, he got into the canoe, bidding two of his men to come with him. To the others he said, --

"Do not leave your boat on any account. These fellows seem all right, but they are never to be trusted too far. There may be more of them inthe woods, so be wide awake and keep your wits about you. "

The two Indians now got into the canoe with Smith and his men and beganto paddle it up the stream, keeping on until they were miles from thestarting-point. Undergrowth rose thickly on the banks and vines hungdown in green masses from the trees, so that the boat they had left wasquickly lost to sight. Soon after that the men in the large boat did avery foolish thing. Heedless of the orders of their leader, they leftthe boat and strolled into the woods. They had not gone far before aparty of savages came rushing at them with wild cries, and followed themfiercely as they turned and ran back to their boat. One of them wascaught by the savages, and as the fugitives sprang into their boat theywere horrified to see the hapless fellow killed by his captors. Thislesson taught them not to leave the boat again. 

Ignorant of all this, Smith went on, the boat being paddled here under alow canopy of vines, there through open spaces, until far up the stream. At length, as passage grew more difficult, he bade his guides to stop, and stepped ashore. Taking one of the Indians with him, he set out, carbine on shoulder, saying that he would provide food for the party. Hecautioned his two followers, as he had done those in the large boat, tokeep a sharp look-out and not let themselves be surprised. 

But these men proved to be as foolish and reckless as the others. Theair was cool and they built a fire on the bank. Then, utterly heedlessof danger, they lay down beside it and soon were fast asleep. As theylay slumbering the Indians, who had started up the stream after killingtheir prisoner at the boat, came upon them in this helpless state. Theyat once killed the foolish pair, and then started into the woods on thetrail of Smith. 

[Illustration: POCAHONTAS. ]

Daring and full of resources as Captain John Smith was, he had taken adangerous risk in thus venturing alone into those forest depths, peopledonly by prowling and hostile savages. It proved to be the most desperatecrisis of his life, full of adventure as this life had been. As ayouthful soldier he had gone through great perils in the wars with theTurks, and once had killed three Turkish warriors in single combatbetween two armies, but never before had he been in such danger of deathas he was now, alone with a treacherous Indian while a dozen or more ofothers, bent on his death, were trailing him through the woods. 

He was first made aware of his danger when a flight of arrows came fromthe low bushes near by. Then, with fierce war-whoops, the Indian bravesrushed upon him with brandished knives and tomahawks. But desperate aswas his situation, in the heart of the forest, far from help, surroundedby foes who thirsted for his blood, Smith did not lose his courage orhis coolness. He fired his pistol at the Indians, two of them fallingwounded or dead. As they drew back in dismay, he seized his guide andtied him to his left arm with his garter as a protection from theirarrows, and then started through the woods in the direction of thecanoe. Walking backward, with his face to his pursuers, and keepingthem off with his weapons, he had not taken many steps before he foundhis feet sinking in the soft soil. He was in the edge of the great swampstill known in that region, and before he was aware of the danger hesank into it to his waist and his guide with him. The other Indians heldback in fear until he had thrown away his weapons, when they rushed uponhim, drew him out of the mud, and led him captive to the fire where histwo companions lay dead. 

Smith's case now seemed truly desperate. He knew enough of the savagesto have very little hope of life. Yet he was not inclined to give upwhile a shadowy chance remained. Taking from his pocket a small compass, which he carried to aid him in his forest journeys, he gave it to theIndian chief, showing him how the needle always pointed to the north. But while the chief was looking curiously at this magic toy, as itseemed to him, the other Indians bound their captive to a tree, and benttheir bows to shoot him. Their deadly purpose was prevented by thechief, who waved the compass in the air and bade them stop. For the timethe mystery of the compass seemed to have saved the captive's life. 

Smith was now taken through the woods, the journey ending at an Indianvillage called Orapakes. Here the dusky women and children took thecaptive in hand, dancing wildly around him, with fierce cries andthreatening gestures, while the warriors looked grimly on. Yet Smithbore their insults and threats with impassive face and unflinchingattitude. At length Opechancanough, the chief, pleased to find that hehad a brave man for captive, bade them cease, and food was brought forthfor Smith and his captors. 

While they were in this village two interesting examples of thesimplicity of Indian thought took place. Smith wrote a message toJamestown, the settlement of the whites, sending it by one of theIndians, and receiving an answer. On his reading this and speaking ofwhat he had learned from it, the Indians looked on it as the work ofenchantment. They could not comprehend how "paper could talk. " Anotherthing was the following: They showed him a bag of gunpowder which theyhad somehow obtained, saying that they were going to sow it in theground the next spring and gather a crop of this useful substance. Afterspending some days in this and other villages, the captive was takeninto the woods, his captors making him understand that they were goingon a long journey. 

Whither he was being taken or what was to be his fate Smith was notaware. The language of gestures, which was his only way of conversingwith the savages, soon reached its limit, and he was quite ignorant ofwhat they proposed to do with him, though his heart must have sunk asthey went on day after day, northward through the forest. On they walkedin single file, Smith unbound and seemingly free in their midst, butwith a watchful Indian guard close beside him, ready to shoot him if hemade any effort to escape. Village after village was passed, in each ofwhich the women and children danced and shrieked around him as atOrapakes. It was evident they knew the value of their prisoner, andrecognized that they had in their hands the great chief of the PaleFaces. 

In fact, the Chickahominy chief felt that his captive was of too muchimportance to be dealt with hastily, and was taking him to the villageof the great chief Powhatan, who ruled like an emperor over a powerfulconfederation of tribes. In summer his residence was near the Falls ofthe James River, but he was in the habit of spending the winter on thebanks of York River, his purpose being to enjoy the fish and oysters ofthe neighboring Chesapeake. Wesowocomoca was the name of this winterresidence, and here the captive was at length brought, after the longwoodland journey. 

Captain Smith had met the old Indian emperor before, at his summer homeon the James River, near where the city of Richmond now stands. But thatwas as a freeman, with his guard around him and his hands unbound. Nowhe was brought before him as a captive, subject to his royal will orcaprice. 

He found the famous lord of the tribes in his large wigwam, with hiswives around him, and his vigilant guard of warriors grouped on thegreensward outside, where the Indian lodges stretched in a considerablevillage along the stream. Powhatan wore a large robe made of raccoonskins. A rich plume of feathers ornamented his head and a string ofbeads depended from his neck. At his head and feet sat two young Indiangirls, his favorite wives, wearing richly adorned dresses of fur, withplumes in their hair and necklaces of pearls. Other women were in theroom, and a number of the leading warriors who sat around gave thefierce war-cry of the tribe as the captive was brought in. 

The old chieftain looked with keen eyes on his famous prisoner, of whosecapture he had been advised by runners sent before. There was a look oftriumph and malignity in his eyes, but Captain Smith stood before himunmoved. He had been through too many dangers to be easily dismayed, andnear death's door too often to yield to despair. Powhatan gave an orderto a young Indian woman, who brought him a wooden basin of water that hemight wash his hands. Then she presented him a bunch of feathers toserve as a towel. This done, meat and corn-bread were placed before him. As he ate Powhatan talked with his warriors, consulting with them, thecaptive feared, upon his fate. But he finished his meal with little lossof appetite, trusting to the Providence which had saved him more thanonce before to come to his aid again. 

As he ate, his vigilant eyes looked heedfully around the room. Many whowere there gazed on him with interest, and one of them, a young Indiangirl of twelve or thirteen years of age, with pity and concern. It wasevident that she was of high rank in the tribe, for she was richlydressed and wore in her hair a plume of feathers like that of Powhatan, and on her feet moccasins embroidered like his. There was a troubled andcompassionate look in her eyes, as she gazed on the captive white man, alook which he may perhaps have seen and taken comfort from in his hourof dread. 

No such feeling as this seemed to rest in the heart of the old chief andhis warriors. Their conference quickly ended, and, though its words werestrange to him, the captive could read his fate in their dark andfrowning faces. They had grown to hate the whites, and now that theirleader was a captive before them, they decided to put him to death. 

There was no loss of time in preparation for the execution of the fataldecree. At an order from Powhatan the captive was seized and securelybound, then he was laid on the floor of the hut, with his head on alarge stone brought in from outside. Beside him stood a stalwart savagegrasping a huge war-club. A word, a signal from Powhatan, was aloneneeded and the victim's brains would have been dashed out. 

At this critical moment Smith's good angel watched over him. A low cryof pity was heard, and the young girl who had watched him with suchconcern sprang forward and clasped her arms around the poor prisoner, looking up at the Indian emperor with beseeching eyes. It wasPocahontas, his favorite daughter. Her looks touched the old man'sheart, and he bade the executioner to stand back, and gave orders thatthe captive should be released. Powhatan soon showed that he was inearnest in his act of mercy. He treated the prisoner in a friendlyfashion, and two days later set him free to return to Jamestown. 

All that he asked in return was that the whites should send him two oftheir great guns and a grindstone. Smith readily consented, no doubtwith a secret sense of amusement, and set out for the settlement, led byIndian guides. Rawhunt, a favorite servant of Powhatan, was one of theguides, and on reaching Jamestown Smith showed him two cannon and agrindstone, and bade him carry them home to his master. Rawhunt tried, but when he found that he could not stir one of the weighty presentsfrom the ground, he was quite content to take back less bulky presentsin their place. 

So runs the story of Captain Smith's remarkable adventure. No doubt itis well to say here that there are writers who doubt the whole story ofPocahontas and her deed of mercy, simply because Captain Smith did notspeak of it in his first book. But there is no very good reason to doubtit, and we know that things like this happened in other cases. Thus, inthe story of De Soto we have told how Juan Ortiz, the Spanish captive, was saved from being burned alive by an Indian maiden in much the sameway. 

Pocahontas after that was always a friend of the English, and oftenvisited them in Jamestown. Once she stole away through the woods andtold her English friends that Powhatan and his warriors were going toattack them. Then she stole back again. When the Indians came they foundthe English ready, and concluded to defer their attack. Later, after shehad grown up, she was taken prisoner and held in Jamestown as a hostageto make her father quit threatening the English. While there a youngplanter named John Rolfe fell deeply in love with her, and she loved himwarmly in return. 

In the end Pocahontas became a Christian and was baptized at Jamestownunder the name of Rebecca. Then she and John Rolfe were married and wentto live in England, where she was known as the "Lady Rebecca" andtreated as if she were indeed a princess. She met John Smith once more, and was full of joy at sight of her "father, " as she called him. Butwhen he told her that she must not call him that, and spoke to her veryrespectfully as Lady Rebecca, she covered her face with her hands andbegan to weep. She had always called him father, she said, and he hadcalled her child, and she meant to do so still. They had told her he wasdead, and she was very glad to learn that this was false, for she lovedhim as a father and would always do so. 

That was her last meeting with Captain Smith. In less than a yearafterward she was taken sick and died, just as she was about to returnto her beloved Virginia. 

_THE INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA. _

Friday, the 22d of March, of the year 1622, dawned brightly over apeaceful domain in Virginia. In the fifteen years that had passed sincethe first settlers landed and built themselves homes at Jamestown thedominion of the whites had spread, until there were nearly eightysettlements, while scattered plantations rose over a space of severalhundred square miles. Powhatan, the Indian emperor, as he was called, had long shown himself the friend of the whites, and friendly relationsgrew up between the new-comers and the old owners of the soil thatcontinued unbroken for years. 

Everywhere peace and tranquillity now prevailed. The English had settledon the fertile lands along the bay and up the many rivers, the muskethad largely given place to the plough and the sword to the sickle andthe hoe, and trustful industry had succeeded the old martial vigilance. The friendliest intercourse existed between the settlers and thenatives. These were admitted freely to their houses, often supplied withfire-arms, employed in hunting and fishing, and looked upon as faithfulallies, many of whom had accepted the Christian faith. 

But in 1618 the mild-tempered Powhatan had died, and Opechancanough, awarrior of very different character, had taken his place as chief of theconfederacy of tribes. We have met with this savage before, in theadventurous career of Captain John Smith. He was a true Indian leader, shrewd, cunning, cruel in disposition, patient in suffering, skilled indeceit, and possessed of that ready eloquence which always had so strongan influence over the savage mind. Jealous of the progress of thewhites, he nourished treacherous designs against them, but these werehidden deep in his savage soul, and he vowed that the heavens shouldfall before he would lift a hand in war against his white friends. Suchwas the tranquil and peaceful state of affairs which existed in Virginiain the morning of March 22, 1622. There was not a cloud in the socialsky, nothing to show that the Indians were other than the devoted alliesand servants of the whites. 

On that morning, as often before, many of the savages came to take theirbreakfast with their white friends, some of them bringing deer, turkeys, fish, or fruit, which, as usual, they offered for sale. Others of themborrowed the boats of the settlers to cross the rivers and visit theoutlying plantations. By many a hearth the pipe of peace was smoked, thehand of friendship extended, the voice of harmony raised. 

Such was the aspect of affairs when the hour of noontide struck on thatfatal day. In an instant, as if this were the signal of death, the scenechanged from peace to terror. Knives and tomahawks were drawn and manyof those with whom the savages had been quietly conversing a momentbefore were stretched in death at their feet. Neither sex nor age wasspared. Wives were felled, weltering in blood, before the eyes of theirhorrified husbands. The tender infant was snatched from its mother'sarms to be ruthlessly slain. The old, the sick, the helpless were struckdown as mercilessly as the young and strong. As if by magic, the savagesappeared at every point, yelling like demons of death, and slaughteringall they met. The men in the fields were killed with their own hoes andhatchets. Those in the houses were murdered on their own hearth-stones. So unlooked-for and terrible was the assault that in that day of bloodthree hundred and forty-seven men, women, and children fell victims totheir merciless foes. Not content with their work of death, the savagemurderers mutilated the bodies of their victims in the most revoltingmanner and revelled shamelessly in their crimes. 

Yet with all their treacherous rage, they showed themselves cowardly. Wherever they were opposed they fled. One old soldier, who had servedunder Captain John Smith, was severely wounded by his savage assailants. He clove the skull of one of them with an axe, and the others at oncetook to flight. In the same way a Mr. Baldwin, whose wife lay bleedingfrom many wounds before his eyes, drove away a throng of murderers byone well-aimed discharge from his musket. A number of fugitive settlersobtained a few muskets from a ship that was lying in a stream neartheir homes, and with these they routed and dispersed the Indians for along distance around. 

The principal settlement, that of Jamestown, was a main point for theproposed Indian assault. Here the confidence and sense of security wasas great as in any of the plantations, and only a fortunate warningsaved the settlers from a far more terrible loss. One of the youngconverts among the Indians, moved by the true spirit of his new faith, warned a white friend of the deadly conspiracy, and the latter hastenedto Jamestown with the ominous news. As a result, the Indian murderers onreaching there found the gates closed and the inhabitants on the alert. They made a demonstration, but did not venture on an assault, andquickly withdrew. 

Such was the first great Indian massacre in America, and one of the mostunexpected and malignant of them all. 

It was the work of Opechancanough, who had laid his plot and organizedthe work of death in the most secret and skilful manner. Passing fromtribe to tribe, he eloquently depicted their wrongs, roused them torevenge, pointed out the defenceless state of the whites, and worked ontheir passions by promises of blood and rapine. A complete organizationwas formed, the day and hour were fixed, and the savages of Virginiawaited in silence and impatience for the time in which they hoped to ridthe land of every white settler on its soil and win back their olddomain. 

While they did not succeed in this, they filled the whole colony withterror and dismay. The planters who had survived the attack were hastilycalled in to Jamestown, and their homes and fields abandoned, so that ofthe eighty recent settlements only six remained. Some of the people werebold enough to refuse to obey the order, arming their servants, mountingcannon, and preparing to defend their own homes. One of these boldspirits was a woman. But the authorities at Jamestown would not permitthis, and they were all compelled to abandon their strongholds and unitefor the general defence. 

The reign of peace was at an end. A reign of war had begun. The savageswere everywhere in arms, with Opechancanough at their head. Thesettlers, as soon as the first period of dread had passed, marchedagainst them, burning for revenge, and relentless slaughter became therule. It was the first Indian war in the British settlements, but was ofthe type of them all. Wherever any Indian showed himself he wasinstantly shot down. Wherever a white man ventured within reach of thered foe he was slain on the spot or dragged off for the more dreadfuldeath by torture. There was no truce, no relaxation; it was war to theknife. 

Only when seed-time was at hand did necessity demand a temporary pausein hostilities. The English now showed that they could be as treacherousand lacking in honor as their savage enemy. They offered peace to thesavages, and in this way induced them to leave their hiding-places andplant their fields. While thus engaged the English rushed suddenly uponthem and cut down a large number, including some of the most valiantwarriors and leading chiefs. 

From that time on there was no talk or thought of peace. Alike theplantation buildings of the whites and the villages of the Indians wereburned. The swords and muskets of the whites, the knives and tomahawksof the red men, were ever ready for the work of death. For ten years thebloody work continued, and by the end of that time great numbers of theIndians had been killed, while of the four thousand whites in Virginiaonly two thousand five hundred remained. 

Exhaustion at length brought peace, and for ten years more the reign ofblood ceased. Yet the irritation of the Indians continued. They saw thewhites spreading ever more widely through the land and taking possessionof the hunting-grounds without regard for the rights of the nativeowners, and their hatred for the whites grew steadily more virulent. Opechancanough was now a very aged man. In the year 1643 he reached thehundreth year of his age. A gaunt and withered veteran, with shrunkenlimbs and a tottering and wasted form, his spirit of hostility to thewhites burned still unquenched. Age had not robbed him of his influenceover the tribes. His wise counsel, the veneration they felt for him, thetradition of his valorous deeds in the past, gave him unquestionedcontrol, and in 1643 he repeated his work of twenty-one years before, organizing another secret conspiracy against the whites. 

It was a reproduction of the former plot. The Indians were charged tothe utmost secrecy. They were bidden to ambush the whites in theirplantations and settlements and at a fixed time to fall upon them and tospare none that they could kill. The conspiracy was managed as skilfullyas the former one. No warning of it was received, and at the appointedhour the work of death began. Before it ended five hundred of thesettlers were ruthlessly slain. They were principally those of theoutlying plantations. Wherever the settlers were in a position foreffective resistance, the savages were routed and driven back to theirforest lurking-places. 

Their work of death done, the red-skinned murderers at once dispersed, knowing well that they could not withstand their foes in open fight. SirWilliam Berkeley, the governor of Virginia, hastily called out a strongforce of armed men and marched to the main seat of the slaughter. Nofoes were to be found. The Indians had vanished in the woodlandwilderness. It was useless to pursue them farther on foot, and thegovernor continued the pursuit with a troop of cavalry, sweeping onwardthrough the tribal confines. 

The chief result of the expedition was the capture of the organizer ofthe conspiracy, the hoary leader of the tribal confederacy, who wasfound near his place of residence on the Pamunky. Too feeble for hastyflight, his aged limbs refusing to bear him and his weakened sight toaid him, he was easily overtaken by the pursuers, and was carried backin triumph to Jamestown, as the very central figure of Indian hostility. 

It was the clement purpose of the governor to send the old chief toEngland as a royal captive, there to be held in honorable custody untildeath should close his career. But this purpose was not to be achieved. A death of violence awaited the old Indian chieftain. A wretched fellowof the neighborhood, one of the kind who would not have dared to face anIndian in arms, slipped secretly behind the famous veteran and shot himwith his musket through the back, inflicting a deadly wound. 

Aged and infirm as Opechancanough was, the wound was not instantlymortal. He lingered for a few days in agonizing pain. Yet to the lastmoment of his life his dignity of demeanor was preserved. It wasespecially shown when a crowd of idlers gathered in the room to satetheir unfeeling curiosity on the actions of the dying chief. 

His muscles had grown so weak that he could not raise his eyelidswithout aid, and, on hearing the noise around him, he motioned to hisattendants to lift his lids that he might see what it meant. When he sawthe idle and curious crowd, a flash of wounded pride and just resentmentstirred his vanished powers. Sending for the governor, he said, with akeen reproach that has grown historic, "Had I taken Sir William Berkeleyprisoner, I would not have exposed him as a show to my people. " Closinghis eyes again, in a short time afterward the Indian hero was dead. 

With the death of Opechancanough, the confederacy over which Powhatanand he had ruled so long came to an end. It was now without a head, andthe associated tribes fell apart. How long it had been in existencebefore the whites came to Virginia we cannot say, but the tread of thewhite man's foot was fatal to the Indian power, and as that footadvanced in triumph over the land the strength of the red men everywherewaned and disappeared. 

_THE GREAT REBELLION IN THE OLD DOMINION. _

The years ending in "'76" are remarkable in America as years of struggleagainst tyranny and strife for the right. We shall not soon forget theyear 1776, when the famous rebellion of the colonies against GreatBritain reached its climax in the Declaration of Independence. In 1676, a century before, there broke out in Virginia what was called the "GreatRebellion, " a famous movement for right and justice. It was broughtabout by the tyranny of Sir William Berkeley, the governor of the colonyof Virginia, as that of 1776 was by the tyranny of George III. , the Kingof England. It is the story of the first American rebellion that we areabout to tell. 

Sir William had ruled over Virginia at intervals for many years. It washe who took old Opechancanough prisoner after the massacre of 1643. In1676 he was again governor of the colony. He was a man of high temperand revengeful disposition, but for a long time he and the Virginiansgot along very well together, for the planters greatly liked the grandstyle in which he lived on his broad estate of "Green Springs, " with hismany servants, and rich silver plate, and costly entertainments, andstately dignity. They lived much that way themselves, so far as theirmeans let them, and were proud of their governor's grand display. 

But what they did not like was his arbitrary way of deciding everyquestion in favor of England and against Virginia, and the tyranny withwhich he enforced every order of the king. Still less were they pleasedwith the fact that, when the Indians in the mountain district began toattack the settlers, and put men, women, and children to death, thegovernor took no steps to punish the savage foe, and left the people todefend themselves in the best way they could. A feeling of panic likethat of the older times of massacre ensued. The exposed families wereforced to abandon their homes and seek places of refuge. Neighborsbanded together for work in the field, and kept their arms close athand. No man left his door without taking his musket. Even Jamestown wasin danger, for the woodland stretched nearly to its dwellings, and thelurking red men, stealing with noiseless tread through the forestshades, prowled from the mountains almost to the sea, like panthers insearch of prey. 

At that time there was a man of great influence in Virginia, namedNathaniel Bacon. He was a new-comer, who had been in America less thanthree years, but he had bought a large estate and had been made a memberof the governor's council. He was a handsome man and a fine speaker, and these and other qualities made him very popular with the plantersand the people. 

Bacon's plantation was near the Falls of the James River, where the cityof Richmond now stands. Here his overseer, to whom he was much attached, and one of his servants were killed by the Indians. Highly indignant atthe outrage, Bacon made up his mind that something must be done. Hecalled a meeting of the neighboring planters, and addressed them hotlyon the delay of the governor in coming to their defence. He advised themto act for themselves, and asked if any of them were ready to marchagainst the savages, and whom they would choose as their leader. With ashout they declared that they were ready, and that he should lead. 

This was very much like taking the law into their own hands. If thegovernor would not act, they would. As a proper measure, however, Baconsent to the governor and asked for a commission as captain of the forceof planters. The governor received the demand in an angry way. It hurthis sense of dignity to find these men acting on their own account, andhe refused to grant a commission or to countenance their action. He wentso far as to issue a proclamation, in which he declared that all who didnot return to their homes within a certain time would be held as rebels. This so scared the planters that the most of them went home, onlyfifty-seven of them remaining with their chosen leader. 

With this small force Bacon marched into the wilderness, where he metand defeated a party of Indians, killing many of them, and dispersingthe remainder. Then he and his men returned home in triumph. 

By this time the autocratic old governor was in a high state of rage. Hedenounced Bacon and his men as rebels and traitors, and gathered a forceto punish them. But when he found that the whole colony was on Bacon'sside he changed his tone. He had Bacon arrested, it is true, when hecame to Jamestown as a member of the House of Burgesses, but this wasonly a matter of form, to save his dignity, and when the culprit wentdown on one knee and asked pardon of God, the king, and the governor, Berkeley was glad enough to get out of his difficulty by forgiving him. But for all this fine show of forgiveness Bacon did not trust the oldtyrant, and soon slipped quietly out of Jamestown and made his way home. 

He was right; the governor was making plans to seize him and hold himprisoner; he had issued secret orders, and Bacon had got away in goodtime. Very soon he was back again, this time at the head of four hundredplanters. As they marched on, others joined them, and when they cameinto the old town, and drew up on the State-house green, there were sixhundred of them, horse and foot. 

The sight of this rebel band threw old Berkeley into a towering rage. Herushed out from the State-house at the head of his council, and, tearing open his ruffled shirt, cried out, in a furious tone:

"Here, shoot me! 'fore God, fair mark; shoot!"

"No, " said Bacon, "may it please your honor, we will not hurt a hair ofyour head, nor of any other man's. We are come for a commission to saveour lives from the Indians, which you have so often promised; and now wewill have it before we go. "

Both men were in a violent rage, walking up and down and gesticulatinglike men distracted. Soon Sir William withdrew with his council to hisoffice in the State-house. Bacon followed, his hand now touching his hatin deference, now his sword-hilt as anger rose in his heart. Some of hismen appeared at a window of the room with their guns cocked and ready, crying out, "We will have it; we will have it. "

This continued till one of the burgesses came to the window and wavedhis handkerchief, calling out, "You shall have it; you shall have it. "

Hearing this, the men drew back and rested their guns on the ground andBacon left the chamber and joined them. The matter ended in Bacon'sgetting his commission as general and commander-in-chief, while an actwas passed by the legislature justifying him in all he had done, and aletter to the same effect was written to the king and signed by thegovernor, council, and assembly. Bacon had won in all he demanded. 

His triumph was only temporary. While he was invading the country ofthe Pamunky Indians, killing many of them and destroying their towns, Berkeley repudiated all he had done. He proclaimed Bacon a rebel andtraitor and issued a summons for the train-bands to the number of twelvehundred men, bidding them pursue and put down Bacon the rebel. The menassembled, but when they heard for what they were wanted they broke outinto a shout of "Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!" and dispersed again, leaving theold tyrant and his attendants alone. News of these events quicklyreached Bacon and his men in the field. He at once turned and marchedback. 

"While I am hunting wolves which are destroying innocent lambs, " heexclaimed, indignantly, "here are the governor and his men after me likehounds in full cry. I am like one between two millstones, which willgrind me to powder if I do not look to it. "

As he came near Jamestown the governor fled, crossing Chesapeake Bay toAccomac, and leaving Bacon in full possession. A new House of Burgesseswas called into session and Bacon's men pledged themselves not to laydown their arms. Sir William had sent to England for soldiers, theysaid, and they would stand ready to fight these soldiers, as they hadfought the governor. A paper to this effect was drawn up and signed, dated August, 1676. It was the first American declaration ofindependence. 

[Illustration: JAMESTOWN RUIN. ]

The tide of rebellion was now in full flow. The movement against theIndians had, by the unwarranted behavior of the governor, been convertedinto civil war, nearly the whole colony supporting Bacon and demandingthat the tyrant governor should be deposed. 

But, while this was going on, the Indians took to the war-path again, and Bacon at once marched against them, leaving Sir William to his owndevices. His first movement was against the Appomattox tribe, whichdwelt on the river of the same name, where Petersburg now stands. Takingthem by surprise, he burned their town, killed many of them, anddispersed the remainder. Then he marched south and attacked othertribes, driving them before him and punishing them so severely as quiteto cure them of all desire to meddle with the whites. 

From that time forward Eastern Virginia was free from Indian troubles, and Bacon was looked upon as the deliverer of the colony. But lack ofprovisions forced him to return and disband his forces, only a few menremaining with him. He soon learned that he had a worse enemy than theIndians to fight at home. Some of his leading supporters in Jamestown, Lawrence, Drummond, Hansford, and others, came hastily to his camp, saying that they had been obliged to flee for safety, as Sir William wasback again, with eighteen ships in the river and eight hundred men hehad gathered in the eastern counties. 

The affair had now come to a focus. It was fight, or yield and betreated as a traitor. Bacon resolved to fight, and he found many to backhim in it, for he soon had a force collected. How many there were we donot know. Some say only one hundred and fifty, some say eight hundred;but however that be, he marched with them on Jamestown, bringing hisIndian captives with him. Rebels and Royalists the two parties were nowcalled; people and tyrant would have been better titles, for Bacon wasin arms for the public right and had the people at his back. 

The old governor was ready. While in Accomac he had taken and hung twofriends of Bacon, who had gone there to try and capture him. He askedfor nothing better than the chance to serve Bacon in the same way. Hisships, armed with cannon, now lay in the river near the town. Apalisade, ten paces wide, had been built across the neck of thepeninsula in which Jamestown stood. Behind it lay a strong body of armedmen. Berkeley felt that he had the best of the situation, and wasdefiant of his foes. 

It was at the end of a September day when Bacon and his small army of"rebels" arrived. Springing from his horse, he led the tired men up tothe palisades and surveyed the governor's works of defence. Then heordered his trumpeter to sound defiance and his men to fire on thegarrison. There was no return fire. Sir William knew that the assailantswere short of provisions, and trusted to hunger to make them retire. ButBacon was versed in the art of foraging. At Green Spring, three milesaway, was Governor Berkeley's fine mansion, and from this the invadingarmy quickly supplied itself. The governor afterwards bitterlycomplained that his mansion "was almost ruined; his household goods, andothers of great value, totally plundered; that he had not a bed to lieon; two great beasts, three hundred sheep, seventy horses and mares, allhis corn and provisions, taken away. " Evidently the "rebels" knewsomething about the art of war. 

This was not all, for their leader adopted another stratagem not well inaccordance with the rules of chivalry. A number of the loyalists of thevicinity had joined Berkeley, and Bacon sent out small parties of horse, which captured the wives of these men and brought them into camp. Amongthem were the lady of Colonel Bacon, Madame Bray, Madame Page, andMadame Ballard. He sent one of these ladies to the town, with a warningto the husbands not to attack him in his camp, or they would find theirwives in front of his line. 

What Bacon actually wanted these ladies for was to make use of them inbuilding his works. He raised by moonlight a defensive work of trees, brushwood and earth around the governor's outwork of palisades, placingthe ladies in front of the workmen to keep the garrison from firing onthem. But he had the chivalry to take them out of harm's way when thegovernor's men made a sortie on his camp. 

The fight that took place may have been a hard one or a light one. Wehave no very full account of it. The most we know is that Bacon and hismen won the victory, and that the governor's men were driven back, leaving their drum and their dead behind them. Whether hard or light, his repulse was enough for Sir William's valor. Well intrenched as hewas and superior in numbers, his courage suddenly gave out, and he fledin haste to his ships, which set sail in equal haste down the river, their speed accelerated by the cannon-balls which the "rebels" sentafter them. 

Once more the doughty governor was a fugitive, and Bacon was master ofthe situation. Jamestown, the original Virginia settlement, was in hishands. What should he do with it? He could not stay there, for he knewthat Colonel Brent, with some twelve hundred men, was marching down onhim from the Potomac. He did not care to leave it for Berkeley to returnto. In this dilemma he concluded to burn it. To this none of his menmade any objection. Two of them, indeed, Lawrence and Drummond, who hadhouses in the place, set fire to them with their own hands. And thus thefamous old town of John Smith and the early settlers was burned to theground. Old as it was, we are told that it contained only a church andsixteen or eighteen houses, and in some of these there were no families. To-day nothing but the ruined church tower remains. 

Bacon now marched north to York River to meet Colonel Brent and his men. But by the time he got there the men had dispersed. The news of theaffair at Jamestown had reached them, and they concluded they did notwant to fight. Bacon was now master of Virginia, with the power thoughnot the name of governor. 

What would have come of his movement had he lived it is impossible tosay, for in the hour of his triumph a more perilous foe than Sir WilliamBerkeley was near at hand. While directing his men in their work at theJamestown trenches a fever had attacked him, and this led to a dangerousdysentery which carried him off after a few weeks' illness. His deathwas a terrible blow to his followers, for the whole movement rested onthe courage and ability as a leader of this one man. They even fearedthe vindictive Berkeley would attempt some outrage upon the remains ofthe "rebel" leader, and they buried his body at night in a secret place. Some traditions assert that he was dealt with as De Soto had been beforehim, his body being sunk in the bosom of the majestic York River, whereit was left with the winds and the waves to chant its requiem. 

Thus ended what Sir William Berkeley called the "Great Rebellion. " Itsleader dead, there was none to take his place. In despair the menreturned to their homes. Many of them made their way to North Carolina, in which new colony they were warmly welcomed. A few kept up a show ofresistance, but they were soon dispersed, and Berkeley came back intriumph, his heart full of revengeful passion. He had sent to Englandfor troops, and the arrival of these gave him support in his crueldesigns. 

All the leading friends of Bacon whom he could seize were mercilesslyput to death, some of them with coarse and aggravating insults. The wifeof Major Cheeseman, one of the prisoners, knelt at the governor's feetand pitifully pleaded for her husband's life, but all she got in returnfrom the old brute was a vulgar insult. The major escaped the gallowsonly by dying in prison. 

One of the most important of the prisoners was William Drummond, a closefriend of Bacon. Berkeley hated him and greeted him with the moststinging insult he could think of. 

"Mr. Drummond, " said he, with a bitter sneer, "you are very welcome; Iam more glad to see you than any man in Virginia. Mr. Drummond, youshall be hanged in half an hour. "

And he was. His property was also seized, but when the king heard ofthis he ordered it to be restored to his widow. 

"God has been inexpressibly merciful to this poor province, " wroteBerkeley, with sickening hypocrisy, after one of his hangings. CharlesII. , the king, took a different view of the matter, saying: "That oldfool has hung more men in that naked province than I did for the murderof my father. " More than twenty of Bacon's chief supporters were hung, and the governor's revenge came to an end only when the assembly met andinsisted that these executions should cease. 

We have told how Bacon came to his end. We must do the same forBerkeley, his foe. Finding that he was hated and despised in Virginia, he sailed for England, many of the people celebrating his departure byfiring cannon and illuminating their houses. He never returned. The kingwas so angry with him that he refused to see him; a slight whichaffected the old man so severely that he soon died, of a broken heart, it is said. Thus ended the first rebellion of the people of the Americancolonies. 

_CHEVALIER LA SALLE, THE EXPLORER OF THE MISSISSIPPI. _

There are two great explorers whose names have been made famous by theirassociation with the mighty river of the West, the Mississippi, orFather of Waters, --De Soto, the discoverer, and La Salle, the explorer, of that stupendous stream. Among all the rivers of the earth theMississippi ranks first. It has its rivals in length and volume, butstands without a rival as a noble channel of commerce, the pride of theWest and the glory of the South. We have told the story of its discoveryby De Soto, the Spanish adventurer; we have now to tell that of itsexploration by La Salle, the French chevalier. 

Let us say here that though the honor of exploring the Mississippi hasbeen given to La Salle, he was not the first to traverse its waters. Thefollowers of De Soto descended the stream from the Arkansas to its mouthin 1542. Father Marquette and Joliet, the explorer, descended from theWisconsin to the Arkansas in 1673. In 1680 Father Hennepin, a Jesuitmissionary sent by La Salle, ascended the stream from the Illinois tothe Falls of St. Anthony. Thus white men had followed the great riverfor nearly its whole length. But the greatest of all these explorers andthe first to traverse the river for the greater part of its course, wasthe Chevalier Robert de la Salle, and to his name is given the glory ofrevealing this grand stream to mankind. 

Never was there a more daring and indefatigable explorer than Robert dela Salle. He seemed born to make new lands and new people known to theworld. Coming to Canada in 1667, he began his career by engaging in thefur trade on Lake Ontario. But he could not rest while the greatinterior remained unknown. In 1669 he made an expedition to the west andsouth, and was the first white man to gaze on the waters of the swiftOhio. In 1679 he launched on the Great Lakes the first vessel that everspread its sails on those mighty inland seas, and in this vessel, theGriffin, he sailed through Lakes Erie, Huron, and Michigan. 

La Salle next descended the Illinois River, and built a fort where thecity of Peoria now stands. But his vessel was wrecked, and he was forcedto make his way on foot through a thousand miles of wilderness to obtainsupplies at Montreal. Such was the early record of this remarkable man, and for two years afterward his life was full of adventure andmisfortune. At length, in 1682, he entered upon the great performance ofhis life, his famous journey upon the bosom of the Father of Waters. 

It was midwinter when La Salle and his men set out from the lakes withtheir canoes. On the 4th of January, 1682, they reached the mouth of theChicago River, where its waters enter Lake Michigan. The river wasfrozen hard, and they had to build sledges to drag their large and heavycanoes down the ice-closed stream. Reaching the portage to the Illinois, they continued their journey across the bleak and snowy waste, toilsomely dragging canoes, baggage, and provisions to the other stream. Here, too, they found a sheet of ice, and for some days longer trudgeddown the channel of the silent and dreary stream. Its banks had beendesolated by Indian wars, and where once many flourishing villages rosethere were to be seen only ashes and smoke-blackened ruins. 

About the 1st of February they reached Crevecoeur, the fort La Sallehad built some years earlier. Below this point the stream was free fromice, and after a week's rest the canoes were launched on the liquidsurface. They were not long in reaching the point where the Illinoisburies its waters in the mighty main river, the grave of so many broadand splendid streams. 

Past the point they had now reached the Mississippi poured swiftlydownward, its waters swollen, and bearing upon them great sheets of ice, the contribution of the distant north. It was no safe channel for theirfrail birch-bark canoes, and they were obliged to wait a week till thevast freightage of ice had run past. Then, on the 13th of February, 1682, they launched their canoes on the great stream, and began theirfamous voyage down its mighty course. 

A day's journey brought them to the place where the turbulent Missouripours its contribution, gathered from thousands of miles of mountain andprairie, into the parent stream, rushing with the force and roar of arapid through a channel half a mile broad, and quickly converting theclear Mississippi waters into a turbid yellow torrent, thick with mud. 

La Salle, like so many of the early explorers, was full of the idea offinding a short route across the continent to the Pacific Ocean, and hefound the Indians at the mouth of the Missouri ready to tell himanything he wanted to know. They said that by sailing ten or twelve daysup the stream, through populous villages of their people, he would cometo a range of mountains in which the river rose; and by climbing to thesummit of these lofty hills he could gaze upon a vast and boundless sea, whose waves broke on their farther side. It was one of those imaginativestories which the Indians were always ready to tell, and the whites asready to believe, and it was well for La Salle that he did not attemptthe fanciful adventure. 

Savage settlements were numerous along the Mississippi, as De Soto hadfound a century and more earlier. About thirty miles below the Missourithey came to another village of peaceful natives, whose souls they madehappy by a few trifling gifts which were of priceless worth to theiruntutored minds. Then downward still they went for a hundred miles ormore farther, to the mouth of another great stream, this one flowingfrom the east, and as noble in its milder way as the Missouri had beenin its turbulent flow. Unlike the latter, this stream was gentle in itscurrent, and its waters were of crystal clearness. It was the splendidriver which the Indians called the Wabash, or Beautiful River, and theFrench by the similar name of La Belle Rivière. It is now known as theOhio, the Indian name being transferred to one of its tributaries. Thiswas the stream on whose waters La Salle had gazed with admirationthirteen years before. 

The voyagers were obliged to proceed slowly. Unable to carry manyprovisions in their crowded canoes, they were often forced to stop andfish or hunt for game. As the Indians told them they would find no goodcamping-grounds for many miles below the Ohio, they stopped for ten daysat its mouth, hunting and gathering supplies. Parties were sent out toexplore in various directions, and one of the men, Peter Prudhomme, failed to return. It was feared that he had been taken captive by theIndians, traces of whom had been seen near by, and a party of Frenchmen, with Indian guides, was sent out on the trails of the natives. Theyreturned without the lost man, and La Salle, at length, reluctantlygiving him up, prepared to continue the journey. Just as they wereentering the canoes the missing man reappeared. For nine days he hadbeen lost in the forest, vainly seeking his friends, and wanderinghopelessly. His gun, however, had provided him with food, and he reachedthe stream just in time. 

Once more the expedition was launched on the swift-flowing current, eight or ten large birch canoes filled with Indians and Frenchmen inIndian garb, and laden with supplies. The waters bore them swiftlyonward, there was little labor with the paddles, the wintry weather waspassing and the air growing mild, the sky sunny, and the light-heartedsons of France enjoyed their daily journey through new and strangescenes with the warmest zest. 

About one hundred and twenty miles below the Ohio they reached thevicinity of the Arkansas River, the point near which the voyage ofMarquette had ended and that of the followers of De Soto began. Here, for the first time in their journey, they met with hostile Indians. Asthe flotilla glided on past the Arkansas bluffs, on the 3d of March, itspeople were startled by hearing the yells of a large body of savages andthe loud sound of a drum, coming from behind the bluff. The natives hadtaken the alarm, supposing that a war party of their enemies was comingto attack them. 

La Salle ordered his canoes at once to be paddled to the other side ofthe stream, here a mile wide. The party landing, some intrenchments werehastily thrown up, for across the river they could now see a largevillage, filled with excited and armed warriors. Preparations fordefence made, La Salle advanced to the water's edge and made signs offriendship and amity. Pacified by these signals of peace, some of theIndian chiefs rowed across until near the bank, when they stopped andbeckoned to the strangers to come to them. 

Father Membré, the priest who accompanied the expedition, entered acanoe and was rowed out to the native boat by two Indians. He held outto them the calumet, or pipe of peace, the Indian signal of friendship, and easily induced the chiefs to go with him to the camp of the whites. There were six of them, frank and cordial in manner, and seeminglydisposed to friendship. La Salle made them very happy with a few smallpresents, and at their request the whole party embarked and accompaniedthem across the river to their village. 

All the men of the place crowded to the bank to receive their strangevisitors, women and children remaining timidly back. They were escortedto the wigwams, treated with every show of friendship, and regaled withthe utmost hospitality. These Arkansas Indians were found to be ahandsome race, and very different in disposition from the northerntribes, for they replaced the taciturn and often sullen demeanor of thelatter with a gay and frank manner better suited to their warmer clime. They were also much more civilized, being skilled agriculturists, andworking their fields by the aid of slaves captured in war. Corn, beans, melons, and a variety of fruits were grown in their fields, and largeflocks of turkeys and other fowls were seen round their dwellings. 

La Salle and his party stayed in the village for some two weeks, andbefore leaving went through the form of taking possession of thecountry in the name of the king of France. This proceeding was conductedwith all the ceremony possible under the circumstances, a large crossbeing planted in the centre of the village, anthems sung, and religiousrites performed. The Indians looked on in delight at the spectacle, blankly ignorant of what it all meant, and probably thinking it was gotup for their entertainment. Had they known its full significance theymight not have been so well pleased. 

Embarking again on the 17th of March, the explorers continued theirjourney down the stream, coming after several days to a place where theriver widened into a lake-like expanse. This broad sheet of water wassurrounded with villages, forty being counted on the east side andthirty-four on the west. On landing in this populous community, theyfound the villages to be well built, the houses being constructed ofclay mixed with straw, and covered with dome-like roofs of canes. Manyconvenient articles of furniture were found within. 

These Southern Indians proved to be organized under a very differentsystem from that prevailing in the North. There each tribe was a smallrepublic, electing its chiefs, and preserving the liberty of its people. Here the tribes were absolute monarchies. The head-chief, or king, hadthe lives and property of all his subjects at his disposal, and kept hiscourt with the ceremonious dignity of a European monarch. When he calledon La Salle, who was too sick at that time to go and see him, theceremony was regal. Every obstruction was removed from his path by aparty of pioneers, and the way made level for his feet. The spot wherehe gave audience was carefully smoothed and covered with showy mats. 

The dusky autocrat made his appearance richly attired in white robes, and preceded by two officers who bore plumes of gorgeously coloredfeathers. An official followed with two large plates of polished copper. The monarch had the courteous dignity and gravity of one born to thethrone, though his interview with La Salle was conducted largely withsmiles and gestures, as no word spoken could be understood. Thetravellers remained among this friendly people for several days, rambling through the villages and being entertained in the dwellings, and found them far advanced in civilization beyond the tribes of theNorth. 

Father Membré has given the following account of their productions: "Thewhole country is covered with palm-trees, laurels of two kinds, plums, peaches, mulberry, apple, and pear-trees of every variety. There arealso five or six kinds of nut-trees, some of which bear nuts ofextraordinary size. They also gave us several kinds of dried fruit totaste. We found them large and good. They have also many varieties offruit-trees which I never saw in Europe. The season was, however, tooearly to allow us to see the fruit. We observed vines already out ofblossom. "

Continuing their journey down the stream, the adventurers next came tothe country of the Natchez Indians, whom they found as friendly as thosethey had recently left. La Salle, indeed, was a man of such genial andkind disposition and engaging manners that he made friends of all hemet. As Father Membré says, "He so impressed the hearts of these Indiansthat they did not know how to treat us well enough. " This was a verydifferent reception to that accorded De Soto and his followers, whosepersistent ill-treatment of the Indians made bitter enemies of all theyencountered. 

The voyagers, however, were soon to meet savages of different character. On the 2d of April, as they floated downward through a narrow channelwhere a long island divided the stream, their ears were suddenly greetedwith fierce war-whoops and the hostile beating of drums. Soon a cloud ofwarriors was seen in the dense border of forest, gliding from tree totree and armed with strong bows and long arrows. La Salle at oncestopped the flotilla and sent one canoe ahead, the Frenchmen in itpresenting the calumet of peace. But this emblem here lost its effect, for the boat was greeted with a volley of arrows. Another canoe wassent, with four Indians, who bore the calumet; but they met with thesame hostile reception. 

Seeing that the savages were inveterately hostile, La Salle ordered hismen to their paddles, bidding them to hug the opposite bank and to rowwith all their strength. No one was to fire, as no good could come fromthat. The rapidity of the current and the swift play of the paddlessoon sent the canoes speeding down the stream, and though the nativesdrove their keen arrows with all their strength, and ran down the banksto keep up their fire, the party passed without a wound. 

A few days more took the explorers past the site of the future city ofNew Orleans and to the head of the delta of the Mississippi, where itseparates into a number of branches. Here the fleet was divided intothree sections, each taking a branch of the stream, and very soon theyfound the water salty and the current becoming slow. The weather wasmild and delightful, and the sun shone clear and warm, when at lengththey came into the open waters of the Gulf and their famous voyage wasat an end. 

Ascending the western branch again until they came to solid ground, amassive column bearing the arms of France was erected, and by its sidewas planted a great cross. At the foot of the column was buried a leadenplate, on which, in Latin, the following words were inscribed:

"Louis the Great reigns. Robert, Cavalier, with Lord Tonti, Ambassador, Zenobia Membré, Ecclesiastic, and twenty Frenchmen, first navigated thisriver from the country of the Illinois, and passed through this mouth onthe ninth of April, sixteen hundred and eighty-two. "

La Salle then made an address, in which he took possession for France ofthe country of Louisiana; of all its peoples and productions, from themouth of the Ohio; of all the rivers flowing into the Mississippi fromtheir sources, and of the main stream to its mouth in the sea. Thus, according to the law of nations, as then existing, the whole valley ofthe Mississippi was annexed to France; a magnificent acquisition, ofwhich that country was destined to enjoy a very small section, andfinally to lose it all. 

[Illustration: Copyright, 1906, by Detroit Publishing Company. 

COALING A MOVING BOAT ON THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER. ]

We might tell the story of the return voyage and of the fierce conflictwhich the voyagers had with the hostile Quinnipissa Indians, who hadattacked them so savagely in their descent, but it will be of moreinterest to give the account written by Father Membré of the countrythrough which they had passed. 

"The banks of the Mississippi, " he writes, "for twenty or thirty leaguesfrom its mouth are covered with a dense growth of canes, except infifteen or twenty places where there are very pretty hills and spacious, convenient landing-places. Behind this fringe of marshy land you see thefinest country in the world. Our hunters, both French and Indian, weredelighted with it. For an extent of six hundred miles in length and asmuch in breadth, we were told there are vast fields of excellent land, diversified with pleasing hills, lofty woods, groves through which youmight ride on horseback, so clear and unobstructed are the paths. 

"The fields are full of all kinds of game, --wild cattle, does, deer, stags, bears, turkeys, partridges, parrots, quails, woodcock, wildpigeons, and ring-doves. There are also beaver, otters, and martens. The cattle of this country surpass ours in size. Their head is monstrousand their look is frightful, on account of the long, black hair withwhich it is surrounded and which hangs below the chin. The hair is fine, and scarce inferior to wool. 

"We observed wood fit for every use. There were the most beautifulcedars in the world. There was one kind of tree which shed an abundanceof gum, as pleasant to burn as the best French pastilles. We also sawfine hemlocks and other large trees with white bark. Thecottonwood-trees were very large. Of these the Indians dug out canoes, forty or fifty feet long. Sometimes there were fleets of a hundred andfifty at their villages. We saw every kind of tree fit forship-building. There is also plenty of hemp for cordage, and tar couldbe made in abundance. 

"Prairies are seen everywhere. Sometimes they are fifty or sixty milesin length on the river front and many leagues in depth. They are veryrich and fertile, without a stone or a tree to obstruct the plough. These prairies are capable of sustaining an immense population. Beansgrow wild, and the stalks last several years, bearing fruit. Thebean-vines are thicker than a man's arm, and run to the top of thehighest trees. Peach-trees are abundant and bear fruit equal to the bestthat can be found in France. They are often so loaded in the gardens ofthe Indians that they have to prop up the branches. There are wholeforests of mulberries, whose ripened fruit we begin to eat in the monthof May. Plums are found in great variety, many of which are not known inEurope. Grape-vines and pomegranates are common. Three or four crops ofcorn can be raised in a year. "

From all this it appears that the good Father was very observant, thoughhis observation, or the information he obtained from the Indians, wasnot always to be trusted. He goes on to speak of the tribes, whosepeople and customs he found very different from the Indians of Canada. "They have large public squares, games, and assemblies. They seemmirthful and full of vivacity. Their chiefs have absolute authority. Noone would dare to pass between the chief and the cane torch which burnsin his cabin and is carried before him when he goes out. All make acircuit around it with some ceremony. "

_THE FRENCH OF LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ INDIANS. _

The story of the American Indian is one of the darkest blots on the pageof the history of civilization. Of the three principal peoples of Europewho settled the New World, --the Spanish, the British, and theFrench, --the Spanish made slaves of them and dealt with them withshocking cruelty, and the British were, in a different way, as unjust, and at times little less cruel. As for the French, while they showedmore sympathy with the natives, and treated them in a more friendly andconsiderate spirit, their dealings with them were by no means free fromthe charge of injustice and cruelty. This we shall seek to show in thefollowing story. 

When we talk of the Indians of the United States we are very apt to getwrong ideas about them. The word Indian means to us a member of thesavage hunting tribes of the North; a fierce, treacherous, implacablefoe, though he could be loyal and generous as a friend; a being who madewar a trade and cruelty a pastime, and was incapable of civilization. But this is only one type of the native inhabitants of the land. Thoseof the South were very different. Instead of being rude savages, liketheir Northern brethren, they had made some approach to civilization;instead of being roving hunters, they were settled agriculturists;instead of being morose and taciturn, they were genial andlight-hearted; and instead of possessing only crude forms of governmentand religion, they were equal in both these respects to some peoples whoare classed as civilized. 

If any feel a doubt of this, let them read what La Salle and theintelligent priest who went with him had to say about the Indians of thelower Mississippi, their government, agriculture, and friendliness ofdisposition, and their genial and sociable manner. It is one of thetribes of Southern Indians with which we are here concerned, the Natcheztribe or nation, with whom La Salle had such pleasing relations. 

It may be of interest to our readers to be told something more about thecustoms of the Southern Indians, since they differed very greatly fromthose of the North, and are little known to most readers. Let us takethe Creeks, for instance, --a powerful association made up of many tribesof the Gulf region. They had their chiefs and their governing council, like the Northern Indians, but the Mico, who took the place of theSachem of the North, had almost absolute power, and the office washereditary in his family. Agriculture was their principal industry, thefields being carefully cultivated, though they were active hunters also. The land was the property of the tribe, not of individuals, and eachfamily who cultivated it had to deposit a part of their products in thepublic store-house. This was under the full control of the Mico, thoughfood was distributed to all in times of need. 

Their religion was much more advanced than that of the Northern tribes. They had the medicine man and the notions about spirits of the North, but they also worshipped the sun as the great deity of the universe, andhad their temples, and priests, and religious ceremonies. One of theirgreat objects of care was the sacred fire, which was carefullyextinguished at the close of the year, and rekindled with "new fire" forthe coming year. While it was out serious calamities were feared and thepeople were in a state of terror. There was nothing like this in theNorth. 

The most remarkable of the United States Indians were the Natchez, ofwhom we have above spoken. Not only La Salle, but later French writershave told us about them. They had a different language and weredifferent in other ways from the neighboring Indians. They worshippedthe sun as their great deity, and had a complete system of temples, priests, idols, religious festivals, sacred objects and the like, thepeople being deeply superstitious. Their temples were built on greatmounds, and in them the sacred fire was very carefully guarded by thepriests. If it should go out fearful misfortunes were expected to ensue. 

Their ruler was high priest as well as monarch. He was called the Sunand was believed to be a direct descendant of the great deity. He was acomplete autocrat, with the power of life and death over the people, andhis nearest female relative, who was known as the woman chief, had thesame power. On his death there were many human sacrifices, though it wasnot his son, but that of the woman chief, who succeeded to the throne. Not only the ruler, but all the members of the royal caste, were calledSuns, and had special privileges. Under them there was a nobility, alsowith its powers and privileges, but the common people had very fewrights. On the temple of the sun were the figures of three eagles, withtheir heads turned to the east. It may be seen that this people was avery interesting one, far advanced in culture beyond the rude tribes ofthe North, and it is a great pity that they were utterly destroyed andtheir institutions swept away before they were studied by the scientistsof the land. Their destruction was due to French injustice, and this ishow it came about. 

Louisiana was not settled by the French until about twenty years afterLa Salle's great journey, and New Orleans was not founded till 1718. The French gradually spread their authority over the country, bringingthe Mississippi tribes under their influence. Among these were theNatchez, situated up the river in a locality indicated by the presentcity of Natchez. The trouble with them came about in 1729, through theunjust behavior of a French officer named Chopart. He had been onceremoved for injustice, but a new governor, M. Perier, had replaced him, not knowing his character. 

Chopart, on his return to the Natchez country, was full of great views, in which the rights of the old owners of the land did not count. He wasgoing to make his province a grand and important one, and in thepresence of his ambition the old inhabitants must bend the knee. Hewanted a large space for his projected settlement, and on looking aboutcould find no spot that suited him but that which was occupied by theIndian village of the White Apple. That the natives might object to thisappropriation of their land did not seem to trouble his lordly soul. 

He sent to the Sun of the village, bidding him to come to the fort, which was about six miles away. When the chief arrived there, Choparttold him, bluntly enough, that he had decided to build a settlement onthe site of the White Apple village, and that he must clear away thehuts and build somewhere else. His only excuse was that it was necessaryfor the French to settle on the banks of the rivulet on whose watersstood the Grand Tillage and the abode of the Grand Sun. 

The Sun of the Apple was taken aback by this arbitrary demand. Hereplied with dignity that his ancestors had dwelt in that village for asmany years as there were hairs in his head, and that it was good that heand his people should continue there. This reasonable answer threwChopart into a passion, and he violently told the Sun that he must quithis village in a few days or he should repent it. 

"When your people came to ask us for lands to settle on, " said theIndian in reply, "you told us that there was plenty of unoccupied landwhich you would be willing to take. The same sun, you said, would shineon us all and we would all walk in the same path. "

Before he could proceed, Chopart violently interrupted him, saying thathe wanted to hear no more, he only wanted to be obeyed. At this theinsulted chief withdrew, saying, with the same quiet dignity as before, that he would call together the old men of the village and hold acouncil on the affair. 

The Indians, finding the French official so violent and arbitrary, atfirst sought to obtain delay, saying that the corn was just above theground and the chickens were laying their eggs. The commandant repliedthat this did not matter to him, they must obey his order or they shouldsuffer for their obstinacy. They next tried the effect of a bribe, offering to pay him a basket of corn and a fowl for each hut in thevillage if he would wait till the harvest was gathered. Chopart provedto be as avaricious as he was arbitrary, and agreed to accept thisoffer. 

He did not know the people he was dealing with. Stung with the injusticeof the demand, and deeply incensed by the insolence of the commandant, the village council secretly resolved that they would not be slaves tothese base intruders, but would cut them off to a man. The oldest chiefsuggested the following plan. On the day fixed they should go to thefort with some corn, and carrying their arms as if going out to hunt. There should be two or three Natchez for every Frenchman, and theyshould borrow arms and ammunition for a hunting match to be made onaccount of a grand feast, promising to bring back meat in payment. Thearms once obtained, the discharge of a gun would be the signal for themto fall on the unsuspecting French and kill them all. 

He further suggested that all the other villages should be apprised ofthe project and asked to assist. A bundle of rods was to be sent to eachvillage, the rods indicating the number of days preceding that fixed forthe assault. That no mistake might be made, a prudent person in eachvillage should be appointed to draw out a rod on each day and throw itaway. This was their way of counting time. 

The scheme was accepted by the council, the Sun warmly approving of it. When it was made known to the chiefs of the nation, they all joined inapproval, including the Grand Sun, their chief ruler, and his uncle, theStung Serpent. It was kept secret, however, from the people at large, and from all the women of the noble and royal castes, not excepting thewoman chief. 

This it was not easy to do. Secret meetings were being held, and theobject of these the female Suns had a right to demand. The woman chiefat that time was a young princess, scarce eighteen, and little inclinedto trouble herself with political affairs; but the Strong Arm, themother of the Grand Sun, was an able and experienced woman, and onefriendly to the French. Her son, strongly importuned by her, told her ofthe scheme, and also of the purpose of the bundle of rods that lay inthe temple. 

Strong Arm was politic enough to appear to approve the project, butsecretly she was anxious to save the French. The time was growing short, and she sought to have the commandant warned by hints of danger. Thesewere brought him by soldiers, but in his supercilious self-conceit hepaid no heed to them, but went on blindly towards destruction. He wentso far as to put in irons seven of those who warned him of the peril, accusing them of cowardice. Finding this effort unavailing, the StrongArm secretly pulled some rods out of the fatal bundle, hoping in thisway to disarrange the project of the conspirators. 

Heedless of all that had been told him, Chopart and some other Frenchmenwent on the night before the fatal day to the great village of theNatchez, on a party of pleasure, not returning till break of day, andthen the worse for his potations. In the mean time the secret had grownmore open, and on his entering the fort he was strongly advised to be onhis guard. 

The drink he had taken made a complete fool of him, however, and he atonce sent to the village from which he had just returned, bidding hisinterpreter to ask the Grand Sun whether he intended to come with hiswarriors and kill the French. The Grand Sun, as might have beenexpected, sent word back that he did not dream of such a thing, and hewould be very sorry, indeed, to do any harm to his good friends, theFrench. This answer fully satisfied the commandant, and he went to hishouse, near the fort, disdaining the advice of the informers. 

It was on the eve of St. Andrew's Day, in 1729, that a party of theNatchez approached the French settlement. It was some days in advance ofthat fixed, on account of the meddling with the rods. They brought withthem one of the common people, armed with a wooden hatchet, to kill thecommandant, the warriors having too much contempt for him to be willingto lay hands on him. The natives strayed in friendly fashion into thehouses, and many made their way through the open gates into the fort, where they found the soldiers unsuspicious of danger and without anofficer, or even a sergeant, at their head. 

Soon the Grand Sun appeared, with a number of warriors laden with corn, as if to pay the first installment of the contribution. Their entrancewas quickly followed by several shots. This being the signal agreedupon, in an instant the natives made a murderous assault on the unarmedFrench, cutting them down in their houses and shooting them on everyside. The commandant, for the first time aware of his blind folly, ranin terror into the garden of his house, but he was sharply pursued andcut down. The massacre was so well devised and went on sosimultaneously in all directions that very few of the seven hundredFrenchmen in the settlement escaped, a handful of the fugitives alonebringing the news of the bloody affair to New Orleans. The Natchezcompleted their vengeance by setting on fire and burning all thebuildings, so that of the late flourishing settlement only a few ruinedwalls remained. 

As may be seen, this massacre was due to the injustice, and to thesubsequent incompetence, of one man, Chopart, the commandant. It led tolamentable consequences, in the utter destruction of the Natchez nationand the loss of one of the most interesting native communities inAmerica. 

No sooner, in fact, had the news of the massacre reached New Orleansthan active steps were taken for revenge. A force, largely made up ofChoctaw allies, assailed the fort of the Natchez. The latter asked forpeace, promising to release the French women and children they held asprisoners. This was agreed to, and the Indians took advantage of it tovacate the fort by stealth, under cover of night, taking with them alltheir baggage and plunder. They took refuge in a secret place to thewest of the Mississippi, which the French had much difficulty todiscover. 

The place found, a strong force was sent against the Indians, its routebeing up the Red River, then up the Black River, and finally up SilverCreek, which flows from a small lake, near which the Natchez had built afort for defence against the French. This place they maintained withsome resolution, but when the French batteries were placed and bombsbegan to fall in the fort, dealing death to women and children as wellas men, the warriors, horrified at these frightful instruments of death, made signals of their readiness to capitulate. 

Night fell before terms were decided upon, and the Indians asked thatthe settlement should be left till the next day. Their purpose was toattempt to escape, as they had done before during the night, but theywere too closely watched to make this effective. Some of them succeededin getting away, but the great body were driven back into the fort, andthe next day were obliged to surrender at discretion. Among them werethe Grand Sun and the women Suns, with many warriors, women, andchildren. 

The end of the story of the Natchez is the only instance on record ofthe deliberate annihilation of an Indian tribe. Some have perishedthrough the event of war, no other through fixed intention. All thecaptives were carried to New Orleans, where they were used as slaves, not excepting the Strong Arm, who had made such efforts to save theFrench. These slaves were afterward sent to St. Domingo to prevent theirescape, and in order that the Natchez nation might be utterly rootedout. 

Those of the warriors who had escaped from the fort, and others who wereout hunting, were still at large, but there were few women among them, and the nation was lost past renewal. These fugitives made their way tothe villages of the Chickasaws, and were finally absorbed in thatnation, "and thus, " says Du Pratz, the historian of this affair, "thatnation, the most conspicuous in the colony, and most useful to theFrench, was destroyed. "

Du Pratz was a resident of New Orleans at the time, and got hisinformation from the parties directly concerned. He tells us that amongthe women slaves "was the female Sun called the Strong Arm, who thentold me all she had done in order to save the French. " It appears thatall she had done was not enough to save herself. 

_THE KNIGHTS OF THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE. _

On a fine day in the pleasant month of August of the year 1714 a largeparty of horsemen rode along Duke of Gloucester Street, in the city ofWilliamsburg, Virginia, while the men, women, and children of the placeflocked to the doors of the houses cheering and waving theirhandkerchiefs as the gallant cavaliers passed by. They were gaylydressed, in the showy costumes worn by the gentlemen of that time, andat their head was a handsome and vigorous man, with the erect bearingand manly attitude of one who had served in the wars. They were allmounted on spirited horses and carried their guns on their saddles, prepared to hunt or perhaps to defend themselves if attacked. Behindthem followed a string of mules, carrying the packs of the horsemen andin charge of mounted servants. 

Thus equipped, the showy cavalcade passed through the main streets ofthe small town, which had succeeded Jamestown as the Virginian capital, and rode away over the westward-leading road. On they went, mile aftermile, others joining them, as they passed onward, the party steadilyincreasing in numbers until it reached a place called Germanna, on theRapid Ann--now the Rapidan--River, on the edge of the SpotsylvaniaWilderness. 

No doubt you will wish to know who these men were and what was theobject of their journey. It was a romantic one, as you will learn, --ajourney of adventure into the unknown wilderness. At that time Virginiahad been settled more than a hundred years, yet its people knew verylittle about it beyond the seaboard plain. West of this rose the BlueRidge Mountains, behind which lay a great mysterious land, almost asunknown as the mountains of the moon. There were people as late as thatwho thought that the Mississippi River rose in these mountains. 

The Virginians had given this land of mystery a name. They called itOrange County. There were rumors that it was filled with great forestsand lofty mountains, that it held fertile valleys watered by beautifulrivers, that it was a realm of strange and wonderful scenes. TheIndians, who had been driven from the east, were still numerous there, and wild animals peopled the forests plentifully, but few of the whiteshad ventured within its confines. Now and then a daring hunter hadcrossed the Blue Ridge into this country and brought back surprisingtales of what was to be seen there, but nothing that could be trustedwas known about the land beyond the hills. 

All this was of great interest to Alexander Spotswood, who was thengovernor of Virginia. He was a man whose life had been one of adventureand who had distinguished himself as a soldier at the famous battle ofBlenheim, and he was still young and fond of adventure when the kingchose him to be governor of the oldest American colony. 

We do not propose to tell the whole story of Governor Spotswood; but ashe was a very active and enterprising man, some of the things he did maybe of interest. He had an oddly shaped powder-magazine built atWilliamsburg, which still stands in that old town, and he opened thecollege of William and Mary free to the sons of the few Indians whoremained in the settled part of Virginia. Then he built iron-furnacesand began to smelt iron for the use of the people. Those were the firstiron-furnaces in the colonies, and the people called him the "Tubal Cainof Virginia, " after a famous worker in iron mentioned in the Bible. Hisfurnaces were at the settlement of Germanna, where the expedition madeits first stop. This name came from a colony of Germans whom he hadbrought there to work his iron-mines and forges. 

After what has been told it may not be difficult to guess the purpose ofthe expedition. Governor Spotswood was practical enough to wish toexplore the mysterious land beyond the blue-peaked hills, and romanticenough to desire to do this himself, instead of sending out a party ofpioneers. So he sent word to the planters that he proposed to make aholiday excursion over the mountains, and would gladly welcome any ofthem who wished to join. 

We may be sure that there were plenty, especially among the youngermen, who were glad to accept his invitation, and on the appointed daymany of them came riding in, with their servants and pack-mules, wellladen with provisions and stores, for they looked on the excursion as apicnic on a large scale. 

One thing they had forgotten--a very necessary one. At that time ironwas scarce and costly in Virginia, and as the roads were soft and sandy, as they still are in the seaboard country, it was the custom to ridehorses _barefooted_, there being no need for iron shoes. But now theywere about to ride up rocky mountain-paths and over the stony summits, and it was suddenly discovered that their horses must be shod. So allthe smiths available were put actively at work making horseshoes andnailing them on the horses' feet. It was this incident that gave rise tothe name of the "Knights of the Golden Horseshoe, " as will appearfarther on. 

At Germanna Governor Spotswood had a summer residence, to which heretired when the weather grew sultry in the lower country. ColonelWilliam Byrd, a planter on the James River, has told us all about thissummer house of the governor. One of his stories is, that when hevisited there a tame deer, frightened at seeing him, leaped against alarge mirror in the drawing-room, thinking that it was a window, andsmashed it into splinters. It is not likely the governor thanked hisvisitor for that. 

After leaving Germanna the explorers soon entered a region quite unknownto them. They were in high spirits, for everything about them was newand delightful. The woods were in their full August foliage, the streamsgurgling, the birds warbling, beautiful views on every hand, and thecharm of nature's domain on all sides. At mid-day they would stop insome green forest glade to rest and pasture their horses, and enjoy thecontents of their packs with a keen appetite given by the fresh forestair. 

To these repasts the hunters of the party added their share, disappearing at intervals in the woods and returning with pheasant, wildturkey, or mayhap a fat deer, to add to the woodland feast. At nightthey would hobble their horses and leave them to graze, would eatheartily of their own food with the grass for table-cloth and a freshappetite for sauce, then, wrapping their cloaks around them, would sleepas soundly as if in their own beds at home. The story of the ride hasbeen written by one of the party, and it goes in much the way heredescribed. 

The mountains were reached at length, and up their rugged sides theparty rode, seeking the easiest paths they could find. No one knows justwhere this was, but it is thought that it was near Rockfish Gap, throughwhich the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad now passes. There are some whosay that they crossed the valley beyond the Blue Ridge and rode over theAlleghany Mountains also, but this is not at all likely. 

When they reached the summit of the range and looked out to the west, they saw before them a wild but lovely landscape, a broad valley throughwhose midst ran a beautiful river, the Shenandoah, an Indian name thatmeans "daughter of the stars. " To the right and left the mountain-rangeextended as far as the eye could reach, the hill summits and sidescovered everywhere with verdant forest-trees. In front, far off acrossthe valley, rose the long blue line of the Alleghanies, concealing newmysteries beyond. 

The party gazed around in delight, and carved their names on the rocksto mark the spot. A peak near at hand they named Mount George, in honorof George I. , who had just been made king, and a second one MountAlexander, in honor of the governor, and they drank the health of both. Then they rode down the western slope into the lovely valley they hadgazed upon. Here they had no warlike or romantic adventures, fights withIndians or wild beasts, but they had a very enjoyable time. After adelightful ride through the valley they recrossed the mountains, androde joyously homeward to tell the people of the plain the story of whatthey had seen. 

We have said nothing yet of the Golden Horseshoe. That was a fancifulidea of Governor Spotswood. He thought the excursion and the fine valleyit had explored were worthy to be remembered by making them the basis ofan order of knighthood. He was somewhat puzzled to think of a good namefor it, but at length he remembered the shoeing of the horses atWilliamsburg, so he decided to call it the Order of the GoldenHorseshoe, and sent to England for a number of small golden horseshoes, one of which he gave to each of his late companions. There was a Latininscription on them signifying, "Thus we swear to cross the mountains. "When the king heard of the expedition, he made the governor a knight, under the title of Sir Alexander Spotswood, but we think a better titlefor him was that he won for himself, --Sir Knight of the GoldenHorseshoe. 

_HOW OGLETHORPE SAVED GEORGIA FROM SPAIN. _

On the 5th day of July, in the year 1742, unwonted signs of activitymight have been seen in the usually deserted St. Simon's harbor, on thecoast of Georgia. Into that sequestered bay there sailed a powerfulsquadron of fifty-six well-armed war-vessels, one of them carryingtwenty-four guns and two of them twenty guns each, while there was alarge following of smaller vessels. A host of men in uniform crowded thedecks of these vessels, and the gleam of arms gave lustre to the scene. It was a strong Spanish fleet, sent to wrest the province of Georgiafrom English hands, and mayhap to punish these intruders in themurderous way that the Spaniards had punished the French Huguenots twocenturies before. 

In all the time that had elapsed since the discovery of America, Spainhad made only one settlement on the Atlantic coast of the United States, that of St. Augustine in Florida. But slow as they were in takingpossession, they were not slow in making claims, for they looked onFlorida as extending to the Arctic zone. More than once had they triedto drive the English out of Charleston, and now they were about to makea similar effort in Georgia. That colony had been settled, only tenyears before, on land which Spain claimed as her own, and the Englishwere not there long before hostilities began. In 1739 GeneralOglethorpe, the proprietor of Georgia, invaded Florida and laid siege toSt. Augustine. He failed in this undertaking, and in 1742 the Spaniardsprepared to take revenge, sending the strong fleet mentioned againsttheir foes. It looked as if Georgia would be lost to England, for onthese vessels were five thousand men, a force greater than all Georgiacould raise. 

Oglethorpe knew that the Spaniards were coming, and made hastypreparations to meet them. Troops of rangers were raised, the planterswere armed, fortifications built, and a ship of twenty-two gunsequipped. But with all his efforts his force was pitifully small ascompared with the great Spanish equipment. Besides the ship named, therewere some small armed vessels and a shore battery, with which theEnglish for four hours kept up a weak contest with their foes. Then thefleet sailed past the defences and up the river before a strong breeze, and Oglethorpe was obliged to spike the guns and destroy thewar-material at Fort St. Simon's and withdraw to the stronger post ofFrederica, where he proposed to make his stand. Not long afterward theSpaniards landed their five thousand men four miles below Frederica. These marched down the island and occupied the deserted fort. 

There may not seem to our readers much of interest in all this, but whenit is learned that against the fifty-six ships and more than fivethousand men of the Spaniards the utmost force that General Oglethorpecould muster consisted of two ships and six hundred and fifty-two men, including militia and Indians, and that with this handful of men hecompletely baffled his assailants, the case grows more interesting. Itwas largely an example of tactics against numbers, as will be seen onreading the story of how the Spaniards were put to the right about andforced to flee in utter dismay. 

On the 7th of July some of the Georgia rangers discovered a small bodyof Spanish troops within a mile of Frederica. On learning of theirapproach, Oglethorpe did not wait for them to attack him in his not verypowerful stronghold, but at once advanced with a party of Indians andrangers, and a company of Highlanders who were on parade. Ordering theregiment to follow, he hurried forward with this small detachment, proposing to attack the invaders while in the forest defiles and beforethey could deploy in the open plain near the fort. 

So furious was his charge and so utter the surprise of the Spaniardsthat nearly their entire party, consisting of one hundred andtwenty-five of their best woodsmen and forty-five Indians, were eitherkilled, wounded, or made prisoners. The few fugitives were pursued forseveral miles through the forest to an open meadow or savannah. Here thegeneral posted three platoons of the regiment and a company of Highlandfoot under cover of the wood, so that any Spaniards advancing throughthe meadow would have to pass under their fire. Then he hastened backto Frederica and mustered the remainder of his force. 

[Illustration: OLD SPANISH FORT, ST. AUGUSTINE. ]

Just as they were ready to march, severe firing was heard in thedirection of the ambushed troops. Oglethorpe made all haste towards themand met two of the platoons in full retreat. They had been driven fromtheir post by Don Antonia Barba at the head of three hundred grenadiersand infantry, who had pushed through the meadow under a drifting rainand charged into the wood with wild huzzas and rolling drums. 

The affair looked very bad for the English. Forced back by a smalladvance-guard of the invaders, what would be their fate when the totalSpanish army came upon them? Oglethorpe was told that the whole forcehad been routed, but on looking over the men before him he saw that oneplatoon and a company of rangers were missing. At the same time thesound of firing came from the woods at a distance, and he ordered theofficers to rally their men and follow him. 

Let us trace the doings of the missing men. Instead of following theirretreating comrades, they had, under their officers, LieutenantsSutherland and MacKay, made a skilful détour in the woods to the rear ofthe enemy, reaching a point where the road passed from the forest to theopen marsh across a small semicircular cove. Here they formed anambuscade in a thick grove of palmettos which nearly surrounded thenarrow pass. 

They had not been there long when the Spaniards returned in high gleefrom their pursuit. Reaching this open spot, well protected from assaultas it appeared by the open morass on one side and the crescent-shapedhedge of palmettos and underwood on the other, they deemed themselvesperfectly secure, stacking their arms and throwing themselves on theground to rest after their late exertions. 

The ambushed force had keenly watched their movements from theirhiding-place, preserving utter silence as the foe entered the trap. Atlength Sutherland and MacKay raised the signal of attack, a Highland capupon a sword, and in an instant a deadly fire was poured upon theunsuspecting enemy. Volley after volley succeeded, strewing the groundwith the dead and dying. The Spaniards sprang to their feet in confusionand panic. Some of their officers attempted to reform their brokenranks, but in vain; all discipline was gone, orders were unheard, safetyalone was sought. In a minute more, with a Highland shout, the platoonburst upon them with levelled bayonet and gleaming claymore, and theyfled like panic-stricken deer; some to the marsh, where they mired andwere captured; some along the defile, where they were cut down; some tothe thicket, where they became entangled and lost. Their defeat wascomplete, only a few of them escaping to their camp. Barba, theirleader, was mortally wounded; other officers and one hundred and sixtyprivates were killed; the prisoners numbered twenty. The feat of armswas as brilliant as it was successful, and Oglethorpe, who did notreach the scene of action till the victory was gained, promoted the twoyoung officers on the spot as a reward for their valor and militaryskill. The scene of the action has ever since been known as the "BloodyMarsh. "

The enterprise of the Spaniards had so far been attended by misfortune, a fact which caused dissention among their leaders. Learning of this, Oglethorpe resolved to surprise them by a night attack. On the 12th hemarched with five hundred men until within a mile of the Spanishquarters, and after nightfall went forward with a small party toreconnoitre. His purpose was to attack them, if all appeared favorable, but he was foiled by the treachery of a Frenchman in his ranks, whofired his musket and deserted to the enemy under cover of the darkness. Disconcerted by this unlucky circumstance, the general withdrew hisreconnoitering party; reaching his men, he distributed the drummersabout the wood to represent a large force, and ordered them to beat thegrenadier's march. This they did for half an hour; then, all beingstill, they retreated to Frederica. 

The defection of the Frenchman threw the general into a state of alarm. The fellow would undoubtedly tell the Spaniards how small a forceopposed them, and advise them that, with their superior land and navalforces, they could easily surround and destroy the English. In thisdilemma it occurred to him to try the effect of stratagem, and seek todiscredit the traitor's story. 

He wrote a letter in French, as if from a friend of the deserter, telling him that he had received the money, and advising him to makeevery effort to convince the Spanish commander that the English werevery weak. He suggested to him to offer to pilot up their boats andgalleys, and to bring them under the woods where he knew the hiddenbatteries were. If he succeeded in this, his pay would be doubled. If hecould not do this, he was to use all his influence to keep them threedays more at Fort St. Simon's. By that time the English would bereinforced by two thousand infantry and six men-of-war which had alreadysailed from Charleston. In a postscript he was cautioned on no accountto mention that Admiral Vernon was about to make an attack on St. Augustine. 

This letter was given to a Spanish prisoner, who was paid a sum of moneyon his promise that he would carry the letter privately and deliver itto the French deserter. The prisoner was then secretly set free, andmade his way back to the Spanish camp. After being detained andquestioned at the outposts he was taken before the general, Don Manuelde Mantiano. So far all had gone as Oglethorpe hoped. The fugitive wasasked how he escaped and if he had any letters. When he denied havingany he was searched and the decoy letter found on his person. It was notaddressed to any one, but on promise of pardon he confessed that he hadreceived money to deliver it to the Frenchman. 

As it proved, the deserter had joined the English as a spy for theSpaniards. He earnestly protested that he was not false to hisagreement; that he knew nothing of any hidden battery or of the othercontents of the letter, and that he had received no money or had anycorrespondence with Oglethorpe. Some of the general's council believedhim, and looked on the letter as an English trick. But the most of thembelieved him to be a double spy, and advised an immediate retreat. Whilethe council was warmly debating on this subject word was brought themthat three vessels had been seen off the bar. This settled the questionin their minds. The fleet from Charleston was at hand; if they stayedlonger they might be hemmed in by sea and land; they resolved to flywhile the path to safety was still open. Their resolution was hastenedby an advance of Oglethorpe's small naval force down the stream, and asuccessful attack on their fleet. Setting fire to the fort, theyembarked so hastily that a part of their military stores were abandoned, and fled as if from an overwhelming force, Oglethorpe hastening theirflight by pursuit with his few vessels. 

Thus ended this affair, one of the most remarkable in its outcome of anyin the military history of the United States. For fifteen days GeneralOglethorpe, with little over six hundred men and two armed vessels, hadbaffled the Spanish general with fifty-six ships and five thousand men, defeating him in every encounter in the field, and at length, by aningenious stratagem, compelling him to retreat with the loss of severalships and much of his provisions, munitions, and artillery. In all ourcolonial history there is nothing to match this repulse of such aformidable force by a mere handful of men. It had the effect of savingGeorgia, and perhaps Carolina, from falling into the hands of theSpanish. From that time forward Spain made no effort to invade theEnglish colonies. The sole hostile action of the Spaniards of Floridawas to inspire the Indians of that peninsula to make raids in Georgia, and this annoyance led in the end to the loss of Florida by Spain. 

_A BOY'S WORKING HOLIDAY IN THE WILDWOOD. _

We wish to say something here about a curious old man who lived inVirginia when George Washington was a boy, and who was wise enough tosee that young Washington was anything but a common boy. This man was anEnglish nobleman named Lord Fairfax. As the nobles of England were notin the habit of coming to the colonies, except as governors, we musttell what brought this one across the sea. 

It happened in this way. His grandfather, Lord Culpeper, had at one timebeen governor of Virginia, and, like some other governors, had takencare to feather his nest. Seeing how rich the land was between thePotomac and Rappahannock Rivers, when he went home he asked the king togive him all this land, and the king, Charles II. , in his good easy wayof giving away what did not belong to him, readily consented, withouttroubling himself about the rights of the people who lived on the land. A great and valuable estate it was. Not many dwelt on it, and LordCulpeper promised to have it settled and cultivated, but we cannot saythat he troubled himself much about doing so. 

When old Culpeper died the Virginia land went to his daughter, and fromher it descended to her son, Lord Fairfax, who sent out his cousin, William Fairfax, to look after his great estate, which covered a wholebroad county in the wilderness, and counties in those days were oftenvery large. Lord Fairfax was not much concerned about the Americanwildwood. He was one of the fashionable young men in London society, andsomething of an author, too, for he helped the famous Addison by writingsome papers for the "Spectator. "

But noblemen, like common men, are liable to fall in love, and this LordFairfax did. He became engaged to be married to a handsome young lady;but she proved to be less faithful than pretty, and when a nobleman ofhigher rank asked her to marry him, she threw her first lover aside andgave herself to the richer one. 

This was a bitter blow to Lord Fairfax. He went to his country home anddwelt there in deep distress, vowing that all women were false-heartedand that he would never marry any of them. And he never did. Even hiscountry home was not solitary enough for the broken-hearted lover, so heresolved to cross the ocean and seek a new home in his wilderness landin America. It was this that brought him to Virginia, where he went tolive at his cousin's fine mansion called Belvoir, a place not far awayfrom the Washington estate of Mount Vernon. 

Lord Fairfax was a middle-aged man at that time, a tall, gaunt, near-sighted personage, who spent much of his time in hunting, of whichhe was very fond. And his favorite companion in these huntingexcursions was young George Washington, then a fine, fresh, active boyof fourteen, who dearly loved outdoor life. There was a strong contrastbetween the old lord and the youthful Virginian, but they soon becameclose friends, riding out fox-hunting together and growing intimate inother ways. 

Laurence Washington, George's elder brother, who lived at Mount Vernon, had married a daughter of William Fairfax, and that brought the MountVernon and Belvoir families much together, so that when young George wasvisiting his brother he was often at Belvoir. Lord Fairfax grew to likehim so much that he resolved to give him some important work to do. Hesaw that the boy was strong, manly, and quick-witted, and anxious to bedoing something for himself, and as George had made some study ofsurveying, he decided to employ him at this. 

Lord Fairfax's Virginia estate, as we have said, was very large. Thebest-known part of it lay east, but it also crossed the Blue RidgeMountains, and ran over into the beautiful valley beyond, which theKnights of the Golden Horseshoe had visited more than thirty yearsbefore. This splendid valley was still largely in a wild state, with fewinhabitants besides the savage Indians and wild beasts. Before it couldbe fairly opened to settlers it must be measured by the surveyor's chainand mapped out so that it would be easy to tell where any tract waslocated. It was this that Lord Fairfax asked young Washington to do, andwhich the active boy gladly consented to undertake, for he likednothing better than wild life and adventure in the wilderness, and herewas the chance to have a delightful time in a new and beautiful country, an opportunity that would warm the heart of any live and healthy boy. 

This is a long introduction to the story of Washington's wildwoodouting, but no doubt you will like to know what brought it about. It wasin the early spring of 1748 that the youthful surveyor set out on hisride, the blood bounding warmly in his veins as he thought of the newsensations and stirring adventures which lay before him. He was notalone. George William Fairfax, a son of the master of Belvoir, went withhim, a young man of twenty-two. Washington was then just sixteen, youngenough to be in high spirits at the prospect before him. He brought hissurveyors' instruments, and they both bore guns as well, for they lookedfor some fine sport in the woods. 

The valley beyond the mountains was not the land of mystery which it hadbeen thirty-four years before, when Governor Spotswood and his gay trooplooked down on it from the green mountain summit. There were now somescattered settlers in it, and Lord Fairfax had built himself a lodge inthe wilderness, which he named "Greenway Court, " and where now and thenhe went for a hunting excursion. 

Crossing the Blue Ridge at Ashby's Gap and fording the brightShenandoah, the young surveyors made their way towards this wildwoodlodge. It was a house with broad stone gables, its sloping roof comingdown over a long porch in front. The locality was not altogether a safeone. There were still some Indians in that country, and something mightstir them up against the whites. In two belfries on the roof hungalarm-bells, to be rung to collect the neighboring settlers if report ofan Indian rising should be brought. 

[Illustration: HOME OF MARY WASHINGTON, FREDERICKSBURG, VA. 

Purchased by George Washington for his mother. ]

On the forest road leading to Greenway Court a white post was planted, with an arm pointing towards the house, as a direction to visitors. Asthe post decayed or was thrown down by any cause another was erected, and on this spot to-day such a post stands, with the village of WhitePost built around it. But when young Washington and Fairfax passed thespot only forest trees stood round the post, and they rode on to theCourt, where they rested awhile under the hospitable care of LordFairfax's manager. 

It was a charming region in which the young surveyors found themselvesafter their brief term of rest, a land of lofty forests and broad grassyopenings, with the silvery river sparkling through their midst. The budswere just bursting on the trees, the earliest spring flowers wereopening, and to right and left extended long blue mountain-ranges, thegiant guardians of the charming valley of the Shenandoah. In those daysthere were none of the yellow grain-fields, the old mansions surroundedby groves, the bustling villages and towns which now mark the scene, but nature had done her best to make it picturesque and beautiful, andthe youthful visitors enjoyed it as only those of young blood can. 

Up the banks of the Shenandoah went the surveyors, measuring and markingthe land and mapping down its leading features. It was no easy work, butthey enjoyed it to the full. At night they would stop at the rude houseof some settler, if one was to be found; if not, they would build a firein the woods, cook the game their guns had brought down, wrap theircloaks around them, and sleep heartily under the broad blanket of theopen air. 

Thus they journeyed on up the Shenandoah until they reached the pointwhere its waters flow into the Potomac. Then up this stream they madetheir way, crossing the mountains and finally reaching the place whichis now called Berkeley Springs. It was then in the depth of thewilderness, but in time a town grew up around it, and many yearsafterward Washington and his family often went there in the summer todrink and bathe in its wholesome mineral waters. 

The surveyors had their adventures, and no doubt often made the woodlandechoes ring with the report of their guns as they brought down partridgeor pheasant, or tracked a deer through the brushwood. Nothing of specialnote happened to them, the thing which interested them most being thesight of a band of Indians, the first they had ever seen. The red menhad long since disappeared from the part of Virginia in which theylived. 

These tenants of the forest came along one day when the youths hadstopped at the house of a settler. There were about thirty of them intheir war-paint, and one of them had a fresh scalp hanging at his belt. This indicated that they had recently been at war with their enemies, ofwhom at least one had been killed. The Indians were given some liquor, in return for which they danced their war-dance before the boys. Formusic one of them drummed on a deer-skin which he stretched over an ironpot, and another rattled a gourd containing some shot and ornamentedwith a horse's tail. The others danced with wild whoops and yells arounda large fire they had built. Altogether the spectacle was a singular andexciting one on which the boys looked with much interest. 

While they had no serious adventures, their life in the forest was not avery luxurious one. In many ways they had to rough it. At times theywere drenched by downpours of rain. They slept anywhere, now and then inhouses, but most often in the open air. On one occasion some straw onwhich they lay asleep caught fire and they woke just in time to escapebeing scorched by the flames. 

"I have not slept above three or four nights in a bed, " wrote George toa friend, "but after walking a good deal all the day I have lain downbefore the fire on a little straw or fodder, or a bear-skin, whateverwas to be had, with man, wife, and children, like dogs and cats; andhappy is he who gets the berth nearest the fire. "

Their cooking was often done by impaling the meat on sharp sticks andholding it over the fire, while chips cut with their hatchet took theplace of dishes. But to them all this was enjoyment, their appetiteswere hearty, and anything having the spice of adventure was gladlywelcomed. It was the event of their young lives. 

It was still April when they returned from their long river ride toGreenway Court, and here enjoyed for some time the comforts ofcivilization, so far as they had penetrated that frontier scene. Springwas still upon the land, though summer was near by, when George and hisfriend rode back across the Blue Ridge and returned to Belvoir with thereport of what they had done. Lord Fairfax was highly pleased with thereport, and liked George more than ever for the faithful and intelligentmanner in which he had carried out his task. He paid the young surveyorat the rate of seven dollars a day for the time he was actually at work, and half this amount for the remaining time. This was worth a good dealmore then than the same sum of money would be now, and was very good payfor a boy of sixteen. No doubt the lad felt rich with the first money hehad ever earned in his pocket. 

As for Lord Fairfax, he was in high glee to learn what a valuableproperty he had across the hills, and especially how fine a country itwas for hunting. He soon left Belvoir and made his home at GreenwayCourt, where he spent the remainder of his life. It was a very differentlife from that of his early days in the bustle of fashionable life inLondon, but it seemed to suit him as well or better. 

One thing more we have to say about him. He was still living at GreenwayCourt when the Revolutionary War came on. A loyalist in grain, hebitterly opposed the rebellion of the colonists. By the year 1781 he hadgrown very old and feeble. One day he was in Winchester, a town whichhad grown up not far from Greenway, when he heard loud shouts and cheersin the street. 

"What is all that noise about?" he asked his old servant. 

"Dey say dat Gin'ral Washington has took Lord Cornwallis an' all hisarmy prisoners. Yorktown is surrendered, an' de wa' is ovah. "

"Take me to bed, Joe, " groaned the old lord; "it is time for me to die. "

Five years after his surveying excursion George Washington had a farmore famous adventure in the wilderness, when the governor of Virginiasent him through the great forest to visit the French forts near LakeErie. The story of this journey is one of the most exciting and romanticevents in American history, yet it is one with which most readers ofhistory are familiar, so we have told the tale of his earlier adventuresinstead. His forest experience on the Shenandoah had much to do withmaking Governor Dinwiddie choose him as his envoy to the French forts, so that it was, in a way, the beginning of his wonderful career. 

_PATRICK HENRY, THE HERALD OF THE REVOLUTION. _

There was a day in the history of the Old Dominion when a great lawsuitwas to be tried, --a great one, that is, to the people of Hanover County, where it was heard, and to the colony of Virginia, though not to thecountry at large. The Church of England was the legal church inVirginia, whose people were expected to support it. This the members ofother churches did not like to do, and the people of Hanover Countywould not pay the clergymen for their preaching. This question of payingthe preachers spread far and wide. It came to the House of Burgesses, which body decided that the people need not pay them. It crossed theocean and reached the king of England, who decided that the people mustpay them. As the king's voice was stronger than that of the burgesses, the clergy felt that they had an excellent case, and they brought alawsuit to recover their claims. By the old law each clergyman was to bepaid his salary in tobacco, one hundred and sixty thousand pounds weighta year. 

There seemed to be nothing to do but pay them, either in cash ortobacco. All the old lawyers who looked into the question gave it up atonce, saying that the people had no standing against the king and theclergy. But while men were saying that the case for the county would bepassed without a trial and a verdict rendered for the clergy, an amusingrumor began to spread around. It was said that young Patrick Henry wasgoing to conduct the case for the people. 

[Illustration: Copyright, 1906, by R. A. Lancaster, Jr. 

HOME OF PATRICK HENRY DURING HIS LAST TWO TERMS AS GOVERNOR OFVIRGINIA. ]

We call this amusing, and so it was to those who knew Patrick Henry. Hewas a lawyer, to be sure, but one who knew almost nothing about the lawand had never made a public speech in his life. He was only twenty-sevenyears of age, and those years had gone over him mainly in idleness. Inhis boyhood days he had spent his time in fishing, hunting, dancing, andplaying the fiddle, instead of working on his father's farm. As he grewolder he liked sport too much and work too little to make a living. Hetried store-keeping and failed through neglect of his business. Hemarried a wife whose father gave him a farm, but he failed with this, too, fishing and fiddling when he should have been working, and in twoyears the farm was sold. Then he went back to store-keeping, and withthe same result. The trouble was his love for the fiddle and thefishing-line, which stood very much in the way of business. He was toolazy and fond of good company and a good time to make a living forhimself and his wife. 

The easy-going fellow was now in a critical situation. He had to dosomething if he did not want to starve, so he borrowed some oldlaw-books and began to read law. Six weeks later he applied to an oldjudge for a license to practise in the courts. The judge questioned himand found that he knew nothing about the law; but young Henry pleadedwith him so ardently, and promised so faithfully to keep on studying, that the judge gave him the license and he hung out his shingle as alawyer. 

Whatever else Patrick Henry might be good for, people thought that tocall himself a lawyer was a mere laughing matter. An awkward, stooping, ungainly fellow, dressed roughly in leather breeches and yarn stockings, and not knowing even how to pronounce the king's English correctly, howcould he ever succeed in a learned profession? As a specimen of hismanner of speech at that time we are told that once, when denying theadvantages of education, he clinched the argument by exclaiming, "Nait'ral parts are better than all the larnin' on airth. "

As for the law, he did not know enough about it to draw up the simplestlaw-paper. As a result, he got no business, and was forced, as a lastresort, to help keep a tavern which his father-in-law possessed atHanover Court-House. And so he went on for two or three years, till1763, when the celebrated case came up. Those who knew him might welllook on it as a joke when the word went round that Patrick Henry wasgoing to "plead against the parsons. " That so ignorant a lawyer shouldundertake to handle a case which all the old lawyers had refused mightwell be held as worthy only of ridicule. They did not know PatrickHenry. It is not quite sure that he knew himself. His father sat on thebench as judge, but what he thought of his son's audacity history doesnot say. 

When the day for the trial came there was a great crowd at HanoverCourt-House, for the people were much interested in the case. On theopening of the court the young lawyer crossed the street from the tavernand took his seat behind the bar. What he saw was enough to dismay andconfuse a much older man. The court-room was crowded, and every man init seemed to have his eyes fixed on the daring young counsel, many ofthem with covert smiles on their faces. The twelve men of the jury werechosen. There were present a large number of the clergy waitingtriumphantly for the verdict, which they were sure would be in theirfavor, and looking in disdain at the young lawyer. On the bench as judgesat John Henry, doubtless feeling that he had a double duty to perform, to judge at once the case and his son. 

The aspiring advocate, so little learned in the law and so poorlydressed and ungainly in appearance, looked as if he would have givenmuch just then to be out of the court and clear of the case. But the diewas cast; he was in for it now. 

The counsel for the clergymen opened the case. He dwelt much on the lawof the matter, whose exact meaning he declared was beyond question. Thecourts had already decided on that subject, and so had his sacredmajesty, the king of England. There was nothing for the jury to do, heasserted, but to decide how much money his clients were entitled tounder the law. The matter seemed so clear that he made but a briefaddress and sat down with a look of complete satisfaction. As he did soPatrick Henry rose. 

This, as may well be imagined, was a critical moment in the younglawyer's life. He rose very awkwardly and seemed thoroughly frightened. Every eye was fixed on him and not a sound was heard. Henry was in astate of painful embarrassment. When he began to speak, his voice was solow that he could hardly be heard, and he faltered so sadly that hisfriends felt that all was at an end. 

But, as he himself had once said, "Nait'ral parts are better than allthe larnin' on airth;" and he had these "nait'ral parts, " as he wasabout to prove. As he went on a change in his aspect took place. Hisform became erect, his head uplifted, his voice clearer and firmer. Hesoon began to make it appear that he had thought deeply on the people'scause and was prepared to handle it strongly. His eyes began to flash, his voice to grow resonant and fill the room; in the words of WilliamWirt, his biographer, "As his mind rolled along and began to glow fromits own action, all the exuviæ of the clown seemed to shed themselvesspontaneously. "

The audience listened in surprise, the clergy in consternation. Was thisthe Patrick Henry they had known? It was very evident that the youngadvocate knew just what he was talking about, and he went on with aforcible and burning eloquence that fairly carried away every listener. There was no thought now of his clothes and his uncouthness. The _man_stood revealed before them, a man with a gift of eloquence such asVirginia had never before known. He said very little on the law of thecase, knowing that to be against him, but he addressed himself to thejury on the rights of the people and of the colony, and told them it wastheir duty to decide between the House of Burgesses and the king ofEngland. The Burgesses, he said, were their own people, men of their ownchoice, who had decided in their favor; the king was a stranger to them, and had no right to order them what to do. 

Here he was interrupted by the old counsel for the clergy, who rose ingreat indignation and exclaimed, "The gentleman has spoken treason. "

We do not know just what words Henry used in reply. We have no record ofthat famous speech. But he was not the man to be frightened by the word"treason, " and did not hesitate to repeat his words more vigorously thanbefore. As for the parsons, he declared, their case was worthless. Menwho led such lives as they were known to have done had no right todemand money from the people. So bitterly did he denounce them that allthose in the room rose and left the court in a body. 

By the time the young advocate had reached the end of his speech thewhole audience was in a state of intense excitement. They had beentreated to the sensation of their lives, and looked with utterastonishment at the marvellous orator, who had risen from obscurity tofame in that brief hour. Breathless was the interest with which thejury's verdict was awaited. The judge charged that the law was in favorof the parsons and that the king's order must be obeyed, but they hadthe right to decide on the amount of damages. They were not long indeciding, and their verdict was the astounding one of _one pennydamages_. 

The crowd was now beyond control. A shout of delight and approbationbroke out. Uproar and confusion followed the late decorous quiet. Theparsons' lawyer cried out that the verdict was illegal and asked thejudge to send the jury back. But his voice was lost in the acclamationsof the multitude. Gathering round Patrick Henry, they picked him upbodily, lifted him to their shoulders, and bore him out, carrying him intriumph through the town, which rang loudly with their cries and cheers. Thus it was that the young lawyer of Hanover rose to fame. 

Two years after that memorable day Patrick Henry found himself in adifferent situation. He was now a member of the dignified House ofBurgesses, the oldest legislative body in America. An aristocratic bodyit was, made up mostly of wealthy landholders, dressed in courtly attireand sitting in proud array. There were few poor men among them, andperhaps no other plain countryman to compare with the new member fromHanover County, who had changed but little in dress and appearance fromhis former aspect. 

A great question was before the House. The Stamp Act had been passed inEngland and the people of the colonies were in a high state ofindignation. They rose in riotous mobs and vowed they would never pay apenny of the tax. As for the Burgesses, they proposed to act with moreloyalty and moderation. They would petition the king to do them justice. It was as good as rebellion to refuse to obey him. 

The member from Hanover listened to their debate, and said to himselfthat it was weak and its purpose futile. He felt sure that the actionthey proposed would do no good, and when they had fairly exhaustedthemselves he rose to offer his views on the question at issue. 

Very likely some of the fine gentlemen there looked at him with surpriseand indignation. Who was this presumptuous new member who proposed totell the older members what to do? Some of them may have known him andbeen familiar with that scene in Hanover Court-House. Others perhapsmentally deplored the indignity of sending common fellows like this tosit in their midst. 

But Patrick Henry now knew his powers, and cared not a whit for their_respectable_ sentiments. He had something to say and proposed to sayit. Beginning in a quiet voice, he told them that the Stamp Act wasillegal, as ignoring the right of the House to make the laws for thecolony. It was not only illegal, but it was oppressive, and he movedthat the House of Burgesses should pass a series of resolutions which hewould read. 

These resolutions were respectful in tone, but very decided in meaning. The last of them declared that nobody but the Burgesses had the right totax Virginians. This statement roused the house. It sounded likerebellion against the king. Several speakers rose together and all ofthem denounced the resolutions as injudicious and impertinent. Theexcitement of the loyalists grew as they proceeded, but they subsidedinto silence when the man who had offered the resolutions rose to defendthem. 

Patrick Henry was aroused. As he spoke his figure grew straight anderect, his voice loud and resonant, his eye flashed, the very sweep ofhis hand was full of force and power. He for one was not prepared tobecome a slave to England and her king. He denounced the islanders whoproposed to rob Americans of their vested rights. In what way was anEnglishman better than a Virginian? he asked. Were they not of one bloodand born with the same right to liberty and justice? What right had theParliament to act the tyrant to the colonies? Then, referring to theking, he bade him in thundering tones to beware of the consequences ofhis acts. 

"Cæsar had his Brutus, " he exclaimed, in tones of thrilling force, "Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the Third----"

"Treason! Treason!" came from a dozen excited voices, but Henry did notflinch. 

"May profit by their example. " Then, in a quieter tone, he added: "Ifthis be treason, make the most of it!"

[Illustration: ST. JOHN'S CHURCH. ]

He took his seat. He had said his words. These words still roll down thetide of American history as resonantly as when they were spoken. As forthe House of Burgesses, it was carried away by the strength of thiswonderful speech. When the resolutions came to a vote it was seen thatHenry had won. They were carried, even the last and most daring of them, by one vote majority. As the Burgesses tumultuously adjourned, onemember rushed out in great excitement, declaring that he would havegiven five hundred guineas for one vote to defeat the treasonableresolutions. But the people with delight heard of what had passed, andas Henry passed through the crowd a plain countryman clapped him on theshoulder, exclaiming, --

"Stick to us, old fellow, or we are gone. "

Ten years later, in the old church of St. John's, at Richmond, Virginia, standing not far from the spot where the old Indian emperor, Powhatan, once resided, a convention was assembled to decide on the state of thecountry. Rebellion was in the air. In a month more the first shots ofthe Revolution were to be fired at Lexington. Patrick Henry, still thesame daring patriot as of old, rose and moved that Virginia "beimmediately put in a state of defence. "

This raised almost as much opposition as his former resolutions in theHouse of Burgesses, and his blood was boiling as he rose to speak. Itwas the first speech of his that has been preserved, and it was one thatstill remains unsurpassed in the annals of American eloquence. We giveits concluding words. He exclaimed, in tones of thunder, --

"There is no retreat but in submission and slavery. Our chains areforged, their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston. The war isinevitable; and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come! It is invain to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, 'Peace, peace, ' butthere is no peace. The war is actually begun. The next gale that sweepsfrom the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms. Ourbrethren are already in the field. What is it that gentlemen wish? Whatwould they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchasedat the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know notwhat course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty, or give medeath!"

His motion was passed, and Virginia told the world that she was ready tofight. A month later there came from the north "the clash of resoundingarms;" the American Revolution was launched. 

"It is not easy to say what we would have done without Patrick Henry, "says Thomas Jefferson. "His eloquence was peculiar; if, indeed, itshould be called eloquence, for it was impressive and sublime beyondwhat can be imagined. After all, it must be allowed that he was ourleader. He left us all far behind. "

_GOVERNOR TRYON AND THE CAROLINA REGULATORS. _

The first blood shed by "rebels" in America, in those critical yearswhen the tide of events was setting strong towards war and revolution, was by the settlers on the upper waters of the Cape Fear River in NorthCarolina. A hardy people these were, of that Highland Scotch stock whosefathers had fought against oppression for many generations. Coming toAmerica for peace and liberty, they found bitter oppression still, andfought against it as their ancestors had done at home. It is the storyof these sturdy "Regulators" that we have here to tell. 

It was not the tyranny of king or parliament with which theseliberty-lovers had to deal, but that of Governor Tryon, the king'srepresentative in this colony, and one of the worst of all the royalgovernors. Bancroft has well described his character. "The Cherokeechiefs, who knew well the cruelty and craft of the most pernicious beastof prey in the mountains, ceremoniously distinguished the governor bythe name of the Great Wolf. " It was this Great Wolf who was placed incommand over the settlers of North Carolina, and whose lawless actsdrove them to rebellion. 

Under Governor Tryon the condition of the colony of North Carolina wasworse than that of a great city under the rule of a political "Boss. "The people were frightfully overtaxed, illegal fees were charged forevery service, juries were packed, and costs of suits at law madeexorbitant. The officers of the law were insolent and arbitrary, and bytrickery and extortion managed to rob many settlers of their property. And this was the more hateful to the people from the fact that much ofthe money raised was known to go into the pockets of officials and muchof it was used by Governor Tryon in building himself a costly and showy"palace. " Such was the state of affairs which led to the "rebellion" inNorth Carolina. 

Many of the people of the mountain districts organized under the name of"Regulators, " binding themselves to fight against illegal taxes andfees, and not to pay them unless forced to do so. The first outbreaktook place in 1768 when a Regulator rode into Hillsborough, and ColonelFanning wantonly seized his horse for his tax. It was quickly rescued bya mob armed with clubs and muskets, some of which were fired atFanning's house. 

This brought matters to a head. Supported by the governor, Fanningdenounced the Regulators as rebels, threatened to call out the militia, and sent out a secret party who arrested two of the settlers. One ofthese, Herman Husbands, had never joined the Regulators or beenconcerned in any tumult, and was seized while quietly at home on hisown land. But he was bound, insulted, hurried to prison, and threatenedwith the gallows. He escaped only by the payment of money and the threatof the Regulators to take him by force from the jail. 

The next step was taken after Governor Tryon had promised to hear thecomplaints of the people and punish the men guilty of extortion. Underthis promise Husbands brought suit against Fanning for unjustimprisonment. At once the governor showed his real sentiment. Hedemanded the complete submission of the Regulators, called out fifteenhundred armed men, and was said to intend to rouse the Indians to cutoff the men of Orange County as rebels. 

In spite of this threatening attitude of the governor, Husbands wasacquitted on every charge, and Fanning was found guilty on six separateindictments. There was also a verdict given against three Regulators. This was the decision of the jury alone. That of the judges showed adifferent spirit. They punished Fanning by fining him one penny on eachcharge, while the Regulators were each sentenced to fifty pounds fineand six months' imprisonment. To support this one-sided justice Tryonthreatened the Regulators with fire and sword, and they remained quietlyat home, brooding moodily over their failure but hesitating to act. 

We must now go on to the year 1770. The old troubles hadcontinued, --illegal fees and taxes, peculation and robbery. Thesheriffs and tax-collectors were known to have embezzled over fiftythousand pounds. The costs of suits at law had so increased that justicelay beyond the reach of the poor. And back of all this reigned GovernorTryon in his palace, supporting the spoilers of the people. So incenseddid they become that at the September court, finding that their caseswere to be ignored, they seized Fanning and another lawyer and beat themsoundly with cowhide whips, ending by a destructive raid on Fanning'shouse. 

The Assembly met in December. It had been chosen under a state ofgeneral alarm. The Regulators elected many representatives, among themthe persecuted Herman Husbands, who was chosen to represent OrangeCounty. This defiant action of the people roused the "Great Wolf" again. Husbands had been acquitted of everything charged against him, yet Tryonhad him voted a disturber of the peace and expelled from the House, andimmediately afterward had him arrested and put in prison without bail, though there was not a grain of evidence against him. 

The governor followed this act of violence with a "Riot Act" of the mostoppressive and illegal character. Under it if any ten men assembled anddid not disperse when ordered to do so, they were to be held guilty offelony. For a riot committed either before or after this act waspublished any persons accused might be tried before the Superior Court, no matter how far it was from their homes, and if they did not appearwithin sixty days, with or without notice, they were to be proclaimedoutlaws and to forfeit their lives and property. The governor also sentout a request for volunteers to march against the "rebels, " but theAssembly refused to grant money for this warlike purpose. 

Governor Tryon had shown himself as unjust and tyrannous as GovernorBerkeley of Virginia had done in his contest with Bacon. It did not takehim long to foment the rebellion which he seemed determined to provoke. When the Regulators heard that their representative had been thrown intoprison, and that they were threatened with exile or death as outlaws, they prepared to march on Newbern for the rescue of Husbands, fillingthe governor with such alarm for the safety of his fine new palace thathe felt it wise to release his captive. He tried to indict the sturdyHighlander for a pretended libel, but the Grand Jury refused to supporthim in this, and Husbands was set free. The Regulators thereupondispersed, after a party of them had visited the Superior Court atSalisbury and expressed their opinion very freely about the lawyers, theofficials, and the Riot Act, which they declared had no warrant in thelaws of England. 

As yet the Regulators had done little more than to protest againsttyranny and oppression and to show an intention to defend theirrepresentative against unjust imprisonment, yet they had done enough toarouse their lordly governor to revenge. Rebels they were, for they haddared to question his acts, and rebels he would hold them. As the GrandJury would not support him in his purpose, he took steps to obtainjuries and witnesses on whom he could rely, and then brought chargesagainst many of the leading Regulators of Orange County, several of whomhad been quietly at home during the riots of which they were accused. 

The governor's next step was to call the Grand Jury to his palace andvolunteer to them to lead troops into the western counties, the haunt ofthe Regulators. The jurymen, who were his own creatures, hastened toapplaud his purpose, and the Council agreed. The Assembly refused toprovide funds for such a purpose, but Tryon got over this difficulty byissuing a paper currency. 

A force of militia was now raised in the lower part of the colony andthe country of the Regulators was invaded. Tryon marched at the head ofa strong force into Orange County, and proceeded to deal with it as ifit were a country conquered in war. As he advanced, the wheat-fieldswere destroyed and the orchards felled. Every house found empty wasburned to the ground. Cattle, poultry, and all the produce of theplantations were seized. The terrified people ran together like sheeppursued by a wolf. The men who had been indicted for felony at Newbern, and who had failed to submit themselves to the mercy of his packedjuries and false witnesses, were proclaimed outlaws, whose lives andproperty were forfeit. Never had the colonies been so spoiled on suchslight pretence. 

Thus marching onward like a conquering general of the Middle Ages, leaving havoc and ruin in his rear, on the evening of May 14, 1771, Tryon reached the great Alamance River, at the head of a force of alittle over one thousand men. About five miles beyond this stream weregathered the Regulators who had fled before his threatening march. Theywere probably superior in numbers to Tryon's men, but many of them hadno weapons, and they were principally concerned lest the governor "wouldnot lend an ear to the just complaints of the people. " These "rebels"were certainly not in the frame of mind to make rebellion successful. 

The Regulators were not without a leader. One of their number, JamesHunter, they looked upon as their "general, " a title of which hisexcellent capacity and high courage made him worthy. On the approach ofTryon at the head of his men James Hunter and Benjamin Merrill advancedto meet him. They received from him this ultimatum:

"I require you to lay down your arms, surrender up the outlawedringleaders, submit yourselves to the laws, and rest on the lenity ofthe government. By accepting these terms in one hour you will prevent aneffusion of blood, as you are at this time in a state of war andrebellion. "

Hopeless as the Regulators felt their cause, they were not ready tosubmit to such a demand as this. There was not an outlaw among them, fornot one of them had been legally indicted. As to the lenity of thegovernment, they had an example before their eyes in the wanton ruin oftheir houses and crops. With such a demand, nothing was left them but tofight. 

Tryon began the action by firing a field-piece into the group ofRegulators. At this the more timid of them--perhaps only the unarmedones--withdrew, but the bold remainder returned the fire, and a hotconflict began, which was kept up steadily for two hours. The battle, atfirst in the open field, soon shifted to the woodland, where theopponents sheltered themselves behind trees and kept up the fight. Notuntil their ammunition was nearly gone, and further resistance wasimpossible, did Hunter and his men retreat, leaving Tryon master of thefield. They had lost twenty of their number besides the wounded and someprisoners taken in the pursuit. Of Tryon's men nine were killed andsixty-one wounded. Thus ended the affray known as the battle of theAlamance, in which were fired the first shots for freedom from tyrannyby the people of the American colonies. 

The victorious governor hastened to make revengeful use of his triumph. He began the next day by hanging James Few, one of the prisoners, as anoutlaw, and confiscating his estate. A series of severe proclamationsfollowed, and his troops lived at free quarters on the Regulators, forcing them to contribute provisions, and burning the houses and layingwaste the plantations of all those who had been denounced as outlaws. 

On his return to Hillsborough the governor issued a proclamationdenouncing Herman Husbands, James Hunter, and some others, asking "everyperson" to shoot them at sight, and offering a large reward for theirbodies alive or dead. Of the prisoners still in his hands, he had six ofthem hung in his own presence for the crime of treason. Then, some tendays later, having played the tyrant to the full in North Carolina, heleft that colony forever, having been appointed governor of New York. The colony was saddled by him with an illegal debt of forty thousandpounds, which he left for its people to pay. 

As for the fugitive Regulators, there was no safety for them in NorthCarolina, and the governors of South Carolina and Virginia wererequested not to give them refuge. But they knew of a harbor of refugeto which no royal governors had come, over which the flag of England hadnever waved, and where no lawyer or tax-collector had yet set foot, inthat sylvan land west of the Alleghenies on which few besides DanielBoone, the famous hunter, had yet set foot. 

Here was a realm for a nation, and one on which nature had lavished herrichest treasures. Here in spring the wild crab-apple filled the airwith the sweetest of perfumes, here the clear mountain-streams flowedabundantly, the fertile soil was full of promise of rich harvests, theclimate was freshly invigorating, and the west winds ripe with the seedsof health. Here were broad groves of hickory and oak, of maple, elm, and ash, in which the elk and the red deer made their haunts, and theblack bear, whose flesh the hunter held to be delicious beyond rivalry, fattened on the abundant crop of acorns and chestnuts. In the trees andon the grasses were quail, turkeys, and pigeons numberless, while thegolden eagle built its nest on the mountain-peaks and swooped in circlesover the forest land. Where the thickets of spruce and rhododendronthrew their cooling shade upon the swift streams, the brook trout wasabundant, plenty and promise were everywhere, and, aside from the perilof the prowling savage, the land was a paradise. 

It was not in Kentucky, where Boone then dwelt alone, but in Tennesseethat the fugitive Regulators sought a realm of safety. James Robertson, one of their number, had already sought the land beyond the hills andwas cultivating his fields of maize on the Watauga's fertile banks. Hewas to become one of the leading men in later Tennessee. Hither theRegulators, fleeing from their persecutors, followed him, and in 1772founded a republic in the wilderness by a written compact, Robertsonbeing chosen one of their earliest magistrates. Thus, still defiant ofpersecution, they "set to the people of America the dangerous example oferecting themselves into a separate state, distinct from and independentof the authority of the British king. "

Thus we owe to the Regulators of North Carolina the first decided stepin the great struggle for independence so soon to come. And to NorthCarolina we must give the credit of making the earliest declaration ofindependence. More than a year before Jefferson's famous Declaration thepeople of Mecklenburg County passed a series of resolutions in whichthey declared themselves free from allegiance to the British crown. Thiswas in May, 1775. On April 12, 1776, North Carolina authorized herdelegates in the Continental Congress to declare for independence. Thusagain the Old North State was the first to set her seal for liberty. Theold Regulators had not all left her soil, and we seem to hear in theseresolutions an echo of the guns which were fired on the Alamance in thefirst stroke of the colonists of America for freedom from tyranny. 

_LORD DUNMORE AND THE GUNPOWDER. _

In the city of Williamsburg, the old capital of Virginia, there stillstands a curious old powder magazine, built nearly two centuries ago byGovernor Spotswood, the hero of the "Golden Horseshoe" adventure. It isa strong stone building, with eight-sided walls and roof, which looks asif it might stand for centuries to come. On this old magazine hinges aRevolutionary tale, which seems to us well worth the telling. The storybegins on April 19, 1775, the day that the shots at Lexington brought onthe war for independence. 

The British government did not like the look of things in America. Theclouds in the air, and the occasional lightning flash and thunder roar, were full of threat of a coming storm. To prevent this, orders were sentfrom England to the royal governors to seize all the powder and arms inthe colonies on a fixed day, This is what Governor Gage, ofMassachusetts, tried to do at Concord on April 19th. In the night of thesame day, Lord Dunmore, governor of Virginia, attempted the same thingat Williamsburg. 

Had this been done openly in Virginia, as in Massachusetts, the story ofLexington would have been repeated there. Lord Dunmore took thepatriots by surprise. A British ship-of-war, the "Magdalen, " some timebefore, came sailing up York River, and dropped its anchor in the streamnot far from Williamsburg. On the 19th of April Lord Dunmore sent wordto Captain Collins, of the "Magdalen, " that all was ready, and afterdark on that day a party of soldiers, led by the captain, landed fromthe ship. About midnight they marched silently into the town. All wasquiet, the people in their beds, sleeping the sleep of the just, and notdreaming that treachery was at their doors. The captain had the key tothe magazine and opened its door, setting his soldiers to carry out asquietly as possible the half-barrels of gunpowder with which it wasstored. They came like ghosts, and so departed. All was done sostealthily, that the morning of the 20th dawned before the citizens knewthat anything had been going on in their streets under the midnightshadows. 

When the news spread abroad the town was in an uproar. What right hadthe governor to meddle with anything bought with the hard cash ofVirginia and belonging to the colony? In their anger they resolved toseize the governor and make him answer to the people for his act. Theydid not like Lord Dunmore, whom they knew to be a false-hearted man, andwould have liked to make him pay for some former deeds of treachery. Butthe cooler heads advised them not to act in haste, saying that it waswiser to take peaceful measures, and to send and tell Dunmore thattheir powder must be returned. 

This was done. The governor answered with a falsehood. He said that hehad heard of some danger of an insurrection among the slaves in aneighboring county, and had taken the powder to use against them. Ifnothing happened, he would soon return it; they need not worry, allwould be right. 

This false story quieted the people of Williamsburg for a time. But itdid not satisfy the people of Virginia. As the news spread through thecolony the excitement grew intense. What right had Lord Dunmore to carryoff the people's powder, bought for their defence? Many of them seizedtheir arms, and at Fredericksburg seven hundred men assembled and sentword that they were ready to march on Williamsburg. Among them were the"minute men" of Culpeper, a famous band of frontiersmen, wearing greenhunting-shirts and carrying knives and tomahawks. "Liberty or Death, "Patrick Henry's stirring words, were on their breasts, and over theirheads floated a significant banner. On it was a coiled rattlesnake, withthe warning motto, "Don't tread on me!"

Prompt as these men were, there was one man in Virginia still moreprompt, a man not to be trifled with by any lordly governor. This wasPatrick Henry, the patriotic orator. The instant he heard of thestealing of the powder he sent word to the people in his vicinity tomeet him at Newcastle, ready to fight for Virginia's rights. They came, one hundred and fifty of them, all well armed, and without hesitation heled them against the treacherous governor. It looked as if there was tobe a battle in Virginia, as there had been in Massachusetts. LordDunmore was scared when he heard that the patriots were marching on him, as they had marched on Lord Berkeley a century before. He sent wordhastily to Patrick Henry to stop his march and that he would pay for thepowder. 

[Illustration: OLD MAGAZINE AT WILLIAMSBURG. ]

Very likely this disappointed the indignant orator. Just then he wouldrather have fought Dunmore than take his money. But he had no goodexcuse for refusing it, so the cash was paid over, three hundred andthirty pounds sterling, --equal to about sixteen hundred dollars, --andHenry and his men marched home. 

Lord Dunmore was in a towering rage at his defeat. He did what Berkeleyhad done against Bacon long before, issuing a proclamation in which hesaid that Patrick Henry and all those with him were traitors to theking. Then he sent to the "Magdalen" for soldiers, and had arms laid onthe floors of his lordly mansion ready for use when the troops shouldcome. 

All was ripe for an outbreak. The people of Virginia had not been usedto see British troops on their soil. If Lord Dunmore wanted war theywere quite ready to let him have it. Arms were lacking, and some youngmen broke open the door of the magazine to see if any were there. Asthey did so there was a loud report and one of the party fell backbleeding. A spring-gun had been placed behind the door, doubtless byLord Dunmore's orders. 

The startling sound brought out the people. When they learned what hadbeen done, they ran angrily to the magazine and seized all the arms theycould find there. In doing so they made a discovery that doubled theirindignation. Beneath the floor several barrels of gunpowder were hidden, as if to blow up any one who entered. While they were saying that thiswas another treacherous trick of the governor's, word was brought themthat the troops from the "Magdalen" were marching on the town. Withshouts of fury they ran for their arms. If Lord Dunmore was so eager fora fight, they were quite ready to accommodate him and to stand up beforehis British soldiers and strike for American rights. A few words willend this part of our story. When the governor saw the spirit of thepeople he did as Berkeley before him had done, fled to his ships andrelieved Williamsburg of his presence. The Virginians had got rid oftheir governor and his British troops without a fight. 

This ends the story of the gunpowder, but there were things thatfollowed worth the telling. Virginia was not done with Lord Dunmore. Sailing in the "Magdalen" to Chesapeake Bay, he found there some otherwar-vessels, and proceeded with this squadron to Norfolk, of which hetook possession. Most of the people of that town were true patriots, though by promises of plunder he induced some of the lower class ofwhites to join him, and also brought in many negro slaves from thecountry around. With this motley crew he committed many acts ofviolence, rousing all Virginia to resistance. A "Committee of Safety"was appointed and hundreds of men eagerly enlisted and were sent toinvest Norfolk. But their enemy was not easy to find, as they kept outof reach most of the time on his ships. 

On December 9, 1775, the first battle of the Revolution in the Southtook place. The patriot forces at that time were at a place called GreatBridge, near the Dismal Swamp, and not far from Norfolk. Against themDunmore sent a body of his troops. These reached Great Bridge to find ita small wooden bridge over a stream, and to see the Americans awaitingthem behind a breastwork which they had thrown up across the road at theopposite end of the bridge. Among them were the Culpeper "minute men, "of whom we have spoken, with their rattlesnake standard, and one of thelieutenants in their company was a man who was to become famous in afteryears, --John Marshall, the celebrated Chief Justice of the UnitedStates. 

The British posted their cannon and opened fire on the Virginians; then, when they fancied they had taken the spirit out of the backwoodsmilitia, a force of grenadiers charged across the bridge, led by CaptainFordyce. He proved himself a good soldier, but he found the colonialsgood soldiers too. They held back their fire till the grenadiers wereacross the bridge and less than fifty yards away. Then the crack ofrifles was heard and a line of fire flashed out all along the lowbreastwork. And it came from huntsmen who knew how to bring down theirgame. 

Many of the grenadiers fell before this scorching fire. Their line wasbroken and thrown into confusion. Captain Fordyce at their head wavedhis hat, shouting, "The day is ours!" The words were barely spoken whenhe fell. In an instant he was on his feet again, brushing his knee as ifhe had only stumbled. Yet the brave fellow was mortally wounded, no lessthan fourteen bullets having passed through his body, and after astaggering step or two he fell dead. 

This took the courage out of the grenadiers. They fell back in disorderupon the bridge, hastened by the bullets of the patriots. At every stepsome of them fell. The Virginians, their standard-bearer at their head, leaped with cheers of triumph over the breastwork and pursued them, driving them back in panic flight, and keeping up the pursuit till thefugitives were safe in Norfolk. Thus ended in victory the first battlefor American liberty on the soil of the South. 

Lord Dunmore had confidently expected his bold grenadiers to return withtrophies of their victory over the untrained colonials. The news oftheir complete defeat filled him with fear and fury. At first herefused to believe it, and threatened to hang the boy who brought himthe news. But the sight of the blood-stained fugitives soon convincedhim, and in a sudden panic he took refuge with all his forces in hisships. The triumphant Virginians at once took possession of the town. 

Dunmore lingered in the harbor with his fleet, and the victors openedfire with their cannon on the ships. "Stop your fire or I will burn yourtown with hot shot, " he sent word. "Do your worst, " retorted the boldVirginia commander, and bade his men to keep their cannons going. Theruthless governor kept his word, bombarding the town with red-hot shot, and soon it was in flames. 

The fire could not be extinguished. For three days it raged, spreadingin all directions, till the whole town was a sheet of flames. Not untilthere was nothing left to burn did the flames subside. Norfolk was acomplete ruin. Its six thousand inhabitants, men, women, and children, were forced to flee from their burning homes and seek what scant refugethey could find in that chill winter season. Dunmore even landed histroops to fire on the place. Then, having visited the peacefulinhabitants with the direst horrors of war, he sailed in triumph away, glorying in his revenge. 

The lordly governor now acted the pirate in earnest. He sailed up anddown the shores of Chesapeake Bay, landing and plundering theplantations on every side. At a place called Gwyn's Island, on thewestern shore, he had a fort built, which he garrisoned mainly with thenegroes and low whites he had brought from Norfolk. Just what was hispurpose in this is not known, for the Virginians gave him no chance tocarry it out. General Andrew Lewis, a famous Indian fighter, led a forceof patriot volunteers against him, planting his cannon on the shoreopposite the island, and opened a hot fire on the fort and the ships. 

The first ball fired struck the "Dunmore, " the ship which held thegovernor. A second struck the same ship, and killed one of its crew. Athird smashed the governor's crockery, and a splinter wounded him in theleg. This was more than the courage of a Dunmore could stand, and sailwas set in all haste, the fleet scattering like a flock of frightenedbirds. The firing continued all day long. Night came, and no signs ofsurrender were seen, though the fire was not returned. At daylight thenext morning two hundred men were sent in boats to reconnoitre andattack the fort. They quickly learned that there was nothing to attack. Lord Dunmore had been preparing all night for flight. The fort had beendismantled of everything of value, and as the assailants sprang fromtheir boats on the island the ships sailed hurriedly away. 

The island itself was a sickening spectacle. The cannonade had madeterrible havoc, and men lay dead or wounded all around, while many ofthe dead had been buried so hastily as to be barely covered. While theywere looking at the frightful scene, a strong light appeared in thedirection of the governor's flight. Its meaning was evident at aglance. Some of the vessels had grounded in the sands, and, as theycould not be got off, he had set them afire to save them from the enemy. 

That was almost the last exploit of Lord Dunmore. He kept up hisplundering raids a little longer, and once sailed up the Potomac toMount Vernon, with the fancy that he might find and capture Washington. But soon after that he sailed away with his plunder and about onethousand slaves whom he had taken from the plantations, and Virginia waswell rid of her last royal governor. A patriot governor soon followed, Patrick Henry being chosen, and occupying the very mansion atWilliamsburg from which Dunmore had proclaimed him a traitor. 

_THE FATAL EXPEDITION OF COLONEL ROGERS. _

One of the great needs of the Americans in the war of the Revolution wasammunition. Gunpowder and cannon-balls were hard to get and easy to getrid of, being fired away with the utmost generosity whenever the armiescame together, and sought for with the utmost solicitude when the armieswere apart. The patriots made what they could and bought what theycould, and on one occasion sent as far as New Orleans, on the lowerMississippi, to buy some ammunition which the Spaniards were willing tosell. 

But it was one thing to buy this much needed material and another thingto get it where it was needed. In those days it was a long journey toNew Orleans and back. Yet the only way to obtain the ammunition was tosend for it, and a valiant man, named Colonel David Rogers, a native ofVirginia or Maryland, was chosen to go and bring it. His expedition wasso full of adventure, and ended in such a tragic way, that it seems wellworth telling about. 

It was from the Old Red Stone Fort on the Monongahela River, one of thetwo streams that make up the Ohio, that the expedition was to start, andhere Colonel Rogers found the boats and men waiting for him at the endof his ride across the hill country. There were forty men in the party, and embarking with these, Rogers soon floated down past Fort Pitt andentered the Ohio, prepared for a journey of some thousands of miles inlength. 

It was in the summer of the year 1778 that these bold men set out on aperilous journey from which few of them were to return. But what mightcome troubled them little. The weather was pleasant, the trees along thestream were charming in their summer foliage, and their hearts were fullof hope and joy as they floated and rowed down the "Beautiful River, " asit had been named by the Indians and the French. 

They needed, indeed, to be alert and watchful, for they knew well thathundreds of hostile savages dwelt in the forest depths on both sides ofthe stream, eager for blood and scalps. But the rough frontiersmen hadlittle fear of the Indians, with the water beneath them and their goodrifles beside them, and they sang their border songs and chatted injovial tones as they went steadily onward, eating and sleeping in theboats, for it was nowhere safe to land. In this way they reached themouth of the Ohio in safety and turned their prows into the broadercurrent of the Mississippi. 

The first important stopping-point of the expedition was at the spotmade historic by De Soto and Marquette, at the mouth of the ArkansasRiver, or the Ozark, as it was then called. Here stood a Spanish fort, near the locality where La Salle, a century earlier, had spent apleasant week with the friendly Arkansas Indians. Colonel Rogers hadbeen told about this fort, and advised to stop there and confer with itscommander. As he came near them, he notified the Spaniards of hisapproach by a salvo of rifle shots, firing thirteen guns in honor of thefighting colonies and as a salute to the lords of the stream. TheSpanish officer in command replied with three cannon shots, the woodsechoing back their report. 

Colonel Rogers now landed and marched at the head of his men to thefort, over them floating the Stars and Stripes, a new-born standard yetto become glorious, and to wave in honor all along that stream on whosebanks it was then for the first time displayed. As they came near thefort they were met by the Spanish commandant, Captain Devilie, with histroops drawn up behind him, and the flag of Spain waving as if in saluteto the new banner of the United States. The Spaniard met Rogers withdignified courtesy, both of them making low bows and exchanging words offriendly greeting. Devilie invited his guest into the fort, and, by wayof entertaining the Americans, put his men through a series of parademovements near the fort. The two officers looked on from the walls, Devilie in his showy Spanish uniform and Rogers gay with his gold-lacedhat and silver-hilted sword. 

These performances at an end, Colonel Rogers told his host the purposeof his expedition, and was informed by him that the war-material whichhe was seeking was no longer at New Orleans, but had been removed to afort farther up the river, near the locality where the city of St. Louisnow stands. If the colonel had been advised of this sooner he might havesaved himself a long journey. But there was the possibility that theofficer at the St. Louis fort would refuse to surrender the ammunitionwithout orders from his superiors. Besides this, he had been directed togo to New Orleans. So, on the whole, he thought it best to obey ordersstrictly, and to obtain from the Spanish governor an order to thecommandant of the fort to deliver the goods. There was one difficulty inthe way. The English had a hold on the river at a place called Natchez, where, as Captain Devilie told the colonel, they had built a fort. Theymight fire on him in passing and sink his boats, or force him to landand hold him prisoner. To escape this peril Colonel Rogers left the bulkof his men at the Spanish fort, taking only a single canoe and ahalf-dozen men with him. It was his purpose to try and slip past theNatchez fort in the night, and this was successfully done, the canoegliding past unseen and conveying the small party safely to New Orleans. 

Our readers no doubt remember how, a century before this time, theChevalier La Salle floated down the great river and claimed all thecountry surrounding it for the king of France. Later on French settlerscame there, and in 1718 they laid out the town of New Orleans, whichsoon became the capital of the province. The settlements here did notgrow very fast, and it does not seem that France valued them highly, forin 1763, after the British had taken Canada from the French, all theland west of the Mississippi River was given up by France to Spain. Thiswas to pay that country for the loss of Florida, which was given over toEngland. That is how the Spaniards came to own New Orleans, and to haveforts along the river where French forts had once been. 

Colonel Rogers found the Spanish governor at New Orleans as obliging asCaptain Devilie had been. He got an order for the ammunition withouttrouble, and had nothing before him but to go back up-stream again. Butthat was not so easy to do. The river ran so swiftly that he soon foundit would be no light matter to row his canoe up against the strongcurrent. There was also the English fort at Natchez to pass, which mightbe very dangerous when going slowly up-stream. So he concluded to letthe boat go and travel by land through the forest. This also was a hardtask in a land of dense cane-brakes and matted woodland, and the smallparty had a toilsome time of it in pushing through the woods. At length, however, the Spanish fort on the Ozark was reached, and the men of theexpedition were reunited. Bidding farewell to Captain Devilie, they tookto their boats again and rowed up-stream past the mouth of the Ohiountil Fort St. Louis was reached. The colonel was received here with thesame courtesy as below, and on presenting his order was given theammunition without question. It was carefully stowed in the boats, good-by was said to the officer who had hospitably entertained them, theoars were brought into play again, and the expedition started homeward. 

So far all had gone well. The journey had been slow and weeks hadlengthened into months, but no misadventure had happened, and theirhearts were full of hope as the deeply laden craft were rowed into theOhio and began the toilsome ascent of that stream. It was now the monthof October. There was an autumn snap in the air, but this only fittedthem the better for their work, and all around them was beautiful asthey moved onward with song and jest, joyful in the hope of soonreaching their homes again. They did not know the fate that awaited themin those dark Ohio woodlands. 

The boats made their way upward to a point in the river near where thecity of Cincinnati was to be founded a few years later. As they passedthis locality they saw a small party of Indians in a canoe crossing theriver not far ahead of them. These were the first of the Ohio Indiansthey had seen, and the sight of them roused the frontier blood of thehardy boatmen. Too many cabins on the border had been burned and theirinmates mercilessly slain for a frontiersman to see an Indian without aburning inclination to kill him. The colonel was in the same spirit withhis men, and the boats were at once turned towards shore in pursuit ofthe savages. At the point they had reached the Licking River emptiesinto the Ohio. Rowing into its mouth the men landed and, led by thecolonel, climbed up the bank to look for the foe. 

They found far more than they had counted on. The canoe-load of savageswas but a decoy to lure them ashore, and as they ascended the river-banka hot fire was opened on them by a large body of Indians hidden in theundergrowth. A trap had been laid for them and they had fallen into it. 

The sudden and deadly volley threw the party into confusion, thoughafter a minute they returned the fire and rushed upon the ambushed foe, Colonel Rogers at their head. Following him with cheers and yells, themen were soon engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand conflict, the sound ofblows, shots, and war-cries filling the air, as the whites and red menfought obstinately for victory. But the Indians far outnumbered theiropponents, and when at length the brave Rogers was seen to stagger andfall all hope left his followers. It was impossible to regain the boatswhich they had imprudently left, and they broke and fled into theforest, pursued by their savage foes. 

Many days later the survivors of the bloody contest, thirteen in all, came straggling wearily into a white settlement on the Kanawha River inVirginia. Of the remainder of their party and their gallant leadernothing was ever heard again. One of the men reported that he had stayedwith the wounded colonel during the night after the battle, where he"remained in the woods, in extreme pain and utterly past recovery. " Inthe morning he was obliged to leave him to save his own life, and thatwas the last known on earth of Colonel Rogers. 

As for the ammunition for which he had been sent, and which he had beendecoyed by an Indian trick into abandoning, it fell into the hands ofthe savages, and was probably used in the later war in the service ofthose against whom it was intended to be employed. Such is the fortuneof war. 

_HOW COLONEL CLARK WON THE NORTHWEST. _

On the evening of the 4th of July, 1778, a merry dance was taking placeat the small settlement of Kaskaskia, in that far western regionafterward known as Illinois. It must not be imagined that this was acelebration of the American Independence day, for the people ofKaskaskia knew little and cared less about American independence. It wasonly by chance that this day was chosen for the dance, but it had itssignificance for all that, for the first step was to be taken there thatday in adding the great Northwest to the United States. The man by whomthis was to be done was a brave Kentuckian named George Rogers Clark. Hecame of a daring family, for he was a brother of Captain William Clark, who, years afterward, was engaged with Captain Lewis in the famous Lewisand Clark expedition across the vast unknown wilderness between theMississippi River and the Pacific Ocean. 

Kaskaskia was one of the settlements made by the French between theGreat Lakes and the Mississippi. After the loss of Canada this countrypassed to England, and there were English garrisons placed in some ofthe forts. But Kaskaskia was thought so far away and so safe that it wasleft in charge of a French officer and French soldiers. A gay andlight-hearted people they were, as the French are apt to be; and, asthey found time hang heavy on their hands at that frontier stronghold, they had invited the people of the place, on the evening in question, toa ball at the fort. 

All this is by way of introduction; now let us see what took place atthe fort on that pleasant summer night. All the girls of the villagewere there and many of the men, and most of the soldiers were on thefloor as well. They were dancing away at a jovial rate to the livelymusic of a fiddle, played by a man who sat on a chair at the side. Nearhim on the floor lay an Indian, looking on with lazy eyes at thedancers. The room was lighted by torches thrust into the cracks of thewall, and the whole party were in the best of spirits. 

The Indian was not the only looker-on. In the midst of the fun a tallyoung man stepped into the room and stood leaning against the side ofthe door, with his eyes fixed on the dancers. He was dressed in the garbof the backwoods, but it was easy to be seen that he was not aFrenchman, --if any of the gay throng had taken the trouble to look athim. 

All at once there was a startling interruption. The Indian sprang to hisfeet and his shrill war-whoop rang loudly through the room. His keeneyes had rested on the stranger and seen at a glance that there wassomething wrong. The new-comer was evidently an American, and thatmeant something there. 

His yell of alarm broke up the dance in an instant. The women, who hadjust been laughing and talking, screamed with fright. All, men and womenalike, huddled together in alarm. Some of the men ran for their guns, but the stranger did not move. From his place by the door he simplysaid, in a quiet way, "Don't be scared. Go on with your dance. Butremember that you are dancing under Virginia and not under England. "

[Illustration: VIEW IN THE NORTHWESTERN MOUNTAINS. ]

As he was speaking, a crowd of men dressed like himself slipped into theroom. They were all armed, and in a minute they spread through the fort, laying hands on the guns of the soldiers. The fort had been takenwithout a blow or a shot. 

Rocheblave, the French commandant, was in bed while these events weretaking place, not dreaming that an American was within five hundredmiles. He learned better when the new-comers took him prisoner and beganto search for his papers. The reason they did not find many of these wason account of their American respect for ladies. The papers were inMadame Rocheblave's room, which the Americans were too polite to enter, not knowing that she was shoving them as fast as she could into thefire, so that there was soon only a heap of ashes. A few were foundoutside, enough to show what the Americans wanted to make sure of, --thatthe English were doing their best to stir up the Indians against thesettlers. To end this part of our story, we may say that the Americansgot possession of Kaskaskia and its fort, and Rocheblave was sent off, with his papers, to Virginia. Probably his wide-awake wife went withhim. 

Now let us go back a bit and see how all this came to pass. ColonelClark was a native of Virginia, but he had gone to Kentucky in his earlymanhood, being very fond of life in the woods. Here he became a friendof Daniel Boone, and no doubt often joined him in hunting excursions;but his business was that of a surveyor, at which he found plenty to doin this new country. 

Meanwhile, the war for independence came on, and as it proceeded Clarksaw plainly that the English at the forts in the West were stirring upthe Indians to attack the American settlements and kill the settlers. Itis believed that they paid them for this dreadful work and supplied themwith arms and ammunition. All this Clark was sure of and he determinedto try and stop it. So he made his way back to the East and had a talkwith Patrick Henry, who was then governor of Virginia. He asked thegovernor to let him have a force to attack the English forts in theWest. He thought he could capture them, and in this way put an end tothe Indian raids. 

Patrick Henry was highly pleased with Clark's plan. He gave him ordersto "proceed to the defence of Kentucky, " which was done to keep his realpurpose a secret. He was also supplied with a large sum of money andtold to enlist four companies of men, of whom he was to be the colonel. These he recruited among the hunters and pioneers of the frontier, whowere the kind of men he wanted, and in the spring of 1778 he set out onhis daring expedition. 

With a force of about one hundred and fifty men Colonel Clark floateddown the Ohio River in boats, landing at length about fifty miles abovethe river's mouth and setting off through the woods towards Kaskaskia. It was a difficult journey, and they had many hardships. Their food ranout on the way and they had to live on roots to keep from starvation. But at length one night they came near enough to hear the fiddle and thedancing. How they stopped the dance you have read. 

Thus ends the first part of our story. It was easy enough to end, as hasbeen seen. But there was a second part which was not so easy. You mustknow that the British had other strongholds in that country. One of themwas Detroit, on the Detroit River, near Lake Erie. This was theirstarting-point. Far to the south, on the Wabash River, in what is nowthe State of Indiana, was another fort called Vincennes, which lay aboutone hundred and fifty miles to the east of Fort Kaskaskia. This was anold French fort also, and it was held by the French for the British asKaskaskia had been. Colonel Clark wanted this fort too, and got itwithout much trouble. He had not men enough to take it by force, so hesent a French priest there, who told the people that their best friendswere the Americans, not the British. It was not hard to make thembelieve this, for the French people had never liked the British. So theyhauled down the British ensign and hauled up the Stars and Stripes, andVincennes became an American fort. 

After that Colonel Clark went back to Kentucky, proud to think that hehad won the great Northwest Territory for the United States with solittle trouble. But he might have known that the British would not letthemselves be driven out of the country in this easy manner, and beforethe winter was over he heard news that was not much to his liking. Colonel Hamilton, the English commander at Detroit, had marched down toVincennes and taken the fort back again. It was also said that heintended to capture Kaskaskia, and then march south and try and winKentucky for the English. This Hamilton was the man who was said to havehired the Indians to murder the American settlers, and Clark was muchdisturbed by the news. He must be quick to act, or all that he had wonwould be lost. 

He had a terrible task before him. The winter was near its end and theWabash had risen and overflowed its banks on all sides. For hundreds ofsquare miles the country was under water, and Vincennes was in thecentre of a great shallow lake. It was freezing water, too, for this wasno longer the warm spring time, as it had been in the march toKaskaskia, but dull and drear February. Yet the brave colonel knew thathe must act quickly if he was to act at all. Hamilton had only eightymen; he could raise twice that many. He had no money to pay them, but amerchant in St. Louis offered to lend him all he needed. There was thewater to cross, but the hardy Kentucky hunters were used to wet andcold. So Colonel Clark hastily collected his men and set out forVincennes. 

A sturdy set of men they were who followed him, dressed inhunting-shirts and carrying their long and tried rifles. On their headswere fur caps, ornamented with deer or raccoon tails. They believed inColonel Clark, and that is a great deal in warlike affairs. As theytrudged onward there came days of cold, hard rain, so that every nightthey had to build great fires to warm themselves and dry their clothes. Thus they went on, day after day, through the woods and prairies, carrying their packs of provisions and supplies on their backs, andshooting game to add to their food supply. 

This was holiday work to what lay before them. After a week of this kindof travel they came to a new kind. The "drowned lands" of the Wabash laybefore them. Everywhere nothing but water was to be seen. The winterrains had so flooded the streams that a great part of the country wasoverflowed. And there was no way to reach the fort except by crossingthose waters, for they spread round it on all sides. They must plunge inand wade through or give up and go back. 

We may be sure that there were faint hearts among them when they feltthe cold water and knew that there were miles of it to cross, hereankle- or knee-deep, there waist-deep. But they had known this when theystarted, and they were not the men to turn back. At Colonel Clark'scheery word of command they plunged in and began their long andshivering journey. 

For nearly a week this terrible journey went on. It was a frightfulexperience. Now and then one of them would stumble and fall, and come updripping. All day long they tramped dismally on through that endlesswaste of icy water. Here and there were islands of dry land over whichthey were glad enough to trudge, but at night they often had trouble tofind a dry spot to build their fires and cook their food, and to sleepon beside the welcome blaze. It was hard enough to find game in thatdreary waste, and their food ran out, so that for two whole days theyhad to go hungry. Thus they went on till they came to the point whereWhite River runs into the Wabash. 

Here they found some friends who had come by a much easier way. Onsetting out Colonel Clark had sent Captain Rogers and forty men, withtwo small cannon, in a boat up Wabash River, telling them to stop at theWhite River fork, about fifteen or twenty miles below Vincennes. Heretheir trudging friends found them, and from this point they resumedtheir march in company. It was easy enough now to transport the cannonby dragging or rowing the boat through the deep water which they had totraverse. 

The worst of their difficult journey lay before them, for surroundingthe fort was a sheet of water four miles wide which was deeper than anythey had yet gone through. They had waded to their knees, and at timesto their waists, but now they might have to wade to their necks. Some ofthem thrust their hands into the water and shivered at the touch, sayingthat it was freezing cold. There were men among them who held back, exclaiming that it was folly to think of crossing that icy lake. 

"We have not come so far to turn back now, " said Colonel Clark, sternly. "Yonder lies the fort, and a few hours will take us there. Follow me, "and he walked boldly into the flood. As he did so he told one of hisofficers to shoot the first man who refused to follow. That settled thematter; they all plunged in. 

It was the most frightful part of their journey. The water at places, aswe have said, came at times almost to their necks. Much of it reachedtheir waists. They struggled resolutely on, almost benumbed with thecold, now stumbling and catching themselves again, holding their gunsand powder above their heads to keep them from becoming wet, and gladenough when they found the water growing shallower. At length dry landwas reached once more, and none too soon, for some of the men were sofaint and weak that they fell flat on the ground. Colonel Clark set twoof his men to pick up these worn-out ones and run them up and down tillthey were warm again. In this way they were soon made all right. 

It was now the evening of the 18th of February, 1779. They were nearenough to the fort to hear the boom of the evening gun. This satisfiedthe colonel that they were at the end of their journey, and he bade hismen to lie down and sleep and get ready for the work before them. Therewas no more wading to do, but there was likely to be some fighting. 

Bright and early the next morning they were up and had got their armsand equipments in order. They were on the wrong side of the river, but alarge boat was found, in which they crossed. Vincennes was now near athand, and one of its people soon appeared, a Frenchman, who looked atthem with as much astonishment as if they had dropped down from the sky. Colonel Clark questioned him about matters in the fort, and then gavehim a letter to Colonel Hamilton, telling the colonel that they had comeacross the water to take back the fort, and that he had better surrenderand save trouble. 

We may be sure that the English colonel was astounded on receiving sucha letter at such a time. That any men on earth could have crossed thosewintry waters he could hardly believe, and it seemed to him that theymust have come on wings. But there they were, asking him to give up thefort, a thing he had no notion of doing without a fight. If ColonelClark wanted the fort he must come and take it. 

Colonel Clark did want it. He wanted it badly. And it was not longbefore the two cannon which he had brought with him were loaded andpouring their shot into the fort, while the riflemen kept them companywith their guns. Colonel Hamilton fired back with grape-shot andcannon-balls, and for hour after hour the siege went on, the roar ofcannon echoing back from woodland and water. For fourteen hours thecannonade was kept up, all day long and far into the night, the redflashes from cannon and rifle lighting up all around. At length bothsides were worn out, and they lay down to sleep, expecting to beginagain with the morning light. 

But that day's work, and the sure shooting of the Kentucky riflemen, hadmade such havoc in the fort as to teach Colonel Hamilton that the boldKentuckians were too much for him. So when, at day dawn, anothermessenger came with a summons to surrender, he accepted as gracefully ashe could. He asked to be given the honors of war, and to be allowed tomarch back to Detroit, but Colonel Clark wrathfully answered, "To that Ican by no means agree. I will not again leave it in your power to spiritup the Indian nations to scalp men, women, and children. "

Soon into the fort marched the victors, with shouts of triumph, theirlong rifles slanting over their shoulders. And soon the red cross flagof England came down and the star-spangled banner of America waved inits place. Hamilton and his men were prisoners in American hands. 

There was proof enough that this English colonel had been busy instirring the Indians up to their dreadful work. His papers showed that. And even while the fight was going on some of the red demons came upwith the scalps of white men and women to receive their pay. The paythey got was in bullets when they fell into the hands of the incensedKentuckians. Colonel Hamilton and his officers were sent as prisoners toWilliamsburg, Virginia, and were there put in fetters for theirmurderous conduct. It would have served them right to hang them, but thelaws of war forbade, and they were soon set free. 

We have told this story that you may see what brave men Virginia andKentucky bred in the old times. In all American history there is noexploit to surpass that of Colonel Clark and his men. And it led tosomething of the greatest importance to the republic of the UnitedStates, as you shall hear. 

It was not long after that time that the war ended and the freedom ofthe colonies was gained. When the treaty of peace was made the questionarose, "What territory should belong to the new republic and what shouldstill be held by England?" It was finally decided that the land whicheach country held at the end of the war should be held still. In thatway England held Canada. And it would have held the great country northof the Ohio, too, if it had not been for George Rogers Clark. Hiscapture of Kaskaskia and his splendid two weeks' march through the"drowned lands" of the Wabash had won that country for the UnitedStates, and when the treaty was signed all this fine country became partof the territory of the United States. So it is to George Rogers Clark, the Virginian and Kentuckian, that this country owes the region which intime was divided up into the great States of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and Michigan, and perhaps Kentucky also, since only for him the Britishmight have taken the new-settled land of Daniel Boone. 

_KING'S MOUNTAIN AND THE PATRIOTS OF TENNESSEE. _

Never was the South in so desperate a plight as in the autumn months ofthat year of peril, 1780. The British had made themselves masters ofGeorgia, and South Carolina and North Carolina were strongly threatened. The boastful Gates had been defeated at Camden so utterly that he ranaway from his army faster than it did from the British, and in threedays and a half afterward he rode alone into Hillsborough, NorthCarolina, two hundred miles away. Sumter was defeated as badly and rodeas fast to Charlotte, without hat or saddle. Marion's small band wasnearly the only American force left in South Carolina. 

Cornwallis, the British commander, was in an ecstasy of delight at hissuccess. He felt sure that all the South was won. The harvest was readyand needed only to be reaped. He laid his plans to march north, winningvictory after victory, till all America south of Delaware should beconquered for the British crown. Then, if the North became free, theSouth would still be under the rule of George the Third. There was onlyone serious mistake in his calculations: he did not build upon thespirit of the South. 

Cornwallis began by trying to crush out that spirit, and soon broughtabout a reign of terror in South Carolina. He ordered that all who wouldnot take up arms for the king should be seized and their propertydestroyed. Every man who had borne arms for the British and afterwardjoined the Americans was to be hanged as soon as taken. Houses wereburned, estates ravaged, men put to death, women and children drivenfrom their homes with no fit clothing, thousands confined in prisons andprison-ships in which malignant fevers raged, the whole State rent andtorn by a most cruel and merciless persecution. Such was the LordCornwallis ideal of war. 

Near the middle of September Cornwallis began his march northward, whichwas not to end till the whole South lay prostrate under his hand. It washis aim to fill his ranks with the loyalists of North Carolina and sweepall before him. Major Patrick Ferguson, his ablest partisan leader, wassent with two hundred of the best British troops to the South Carolinauplands, and here he gathered in such Tories as he could find, and withthem a horde of wretches who cared only for the side that gave them thebest chance to plunder and ravage. The Cherokee Indians were also bribedto attack the American settlers west of the mountains. 

But while Cornwallis was thus making his march of triumph, the Americanpatriots were not at rest. Marion was flying about, like a wasp with avery sharp sting. Sumter was back again, cutting off strays andforagers. Other parties of patriots were afoot and active. And in thenew settlements west of the Alleghanies the hardy backwoodsmen, who hadbeen far out of the reach of war and its terrors, were growing eager tostrike a blow for the country which they loved. 

Such was the state of affairs in the middle South in the month ofSeptember, 1780. And it leads us to a tale of triumph in which theWestern woodsmen struck their blow for freedom, teaching theover-confident Cornwallis a lesson he sadly needed. It is the tale ofhow Ferguson, the Tory leader, met his fate at the hands of themountaineers and hunters of Tennessee and the neighboring regions. 

After leaving Cornwallis, Ferguson met with a small party of NorthCarolina militia under Colonel Macdowell, whom he defeated and pursuedso sharply as to drive them into the mountain wilds. Here their onlyhope of safety lay in crossing the crags and ridges to the great forestland beyond. They found a refuge at last among the bold frontiersmen ofthe Watauga in Tennessee, many of whom were the Regulators of NorthCarolina, the refugees from Governor Tryon's tyranny. 

The arrival of these fugitives stirred up the woodsmen as they had neverbeen stirred before. It brought the evils of the war for the first timeto their doors. These poor fugitives had been driven from their homesand robbed of their all, as the Regulators had been in former years. Wasit not the duty of the freemen of Tennessee to restore them and strikeone blow for the liberty of their native land?

The bold Westerners thought so, and lost no time in putting theirthoughts into effect. Men were quickly enlisted and regiments formedunder Isaac Shelby and John Sevier, two of their leaders. An express wassent to William Campbell, who had under him four hundred of thebackwoodsmen of Southwest Virginia, asking him to join their ranks. Onthe 25th of September these three regiments of riflemen, with Macdowelland his fugitives, met on the Watauga, each man on his own horse, armedwith his own rifle, and carrying his own provisions, and each bent ondealing a telling blow for the relief of their brethren in the East. 

True patriots were they, risking their all for their duty to theirnative land. Their families were left in secluded valleys, often at longdistances apart, exposed to danger alike from the Tories and theIndians. Before them lay the highest peaks of the Alleghanies, to betraversed only by way of lofty and difficult passes. No highway existed;there was not even a bridle-path through the dense forest; and for fortymiles between the Watauga and the Catawba there was not a single houseor a cultivated acre. On the evening of the 30th the Westerners werereinforced by Colonel Cleveland, with three hundred and fifty men fromNorth Carolina who had been notified by them of their approach. 

Their foe was before them. After Ferguson had pursued Macdowell to thefoot of the mountains he shaped his course for King's Mountain, anatural stronghold, where he established his camp in what seemed asecure position and sent to Cornwallis for a few hundred more men, saying that these "would finish the business. This is their last push inthis quarter. " Cornwallis at once despatched Tarleton with aconsiderable reinforcement. He was destined to be too late. 

Ferguson did not know all the peril that threatened him. On the eastColonel James Williams was pursuing him up the Catawba with over fourhundred horsemen. A vigilant leader, he kept his scouts out on everyside, and on October 2 one of these brought him the most welcome ofnews. The backwoodsmen were up, said the scout; half of the peoplebeyond the mountains were under arms and on the march. A few days laterthey met him, thirteen hundred strong. 

Not a day, not an hour, was lost. Williams told them where their foeswere encamped, and they resolved to march against them that very nightand seek to take them by surprise. It was the evening of October 6 whenthe two forces joined. So prompt were they to act that at eight o' clockthat same evening nine hundred of their best horsemen had been selectedand were on the march. All night they rode, with the moon to light themon their way. The next day they rode still onward, and in the afternoonreached the foot of King's Mountain, on whose summit Ferguson layencamped. 

This mountain lies just south of the North Carolina border, at the endof a branching ridge from, the main line of the Alleghanies. The Britishwere posted on its summit, over eleven hundred in number, a thousand ofthem being Tories, the others British regulars. They felt thoroughlysecure in their elevated fortress, the approach up the mountain-sidebeing almost a precipice, the slaty rock cropping out into naturalbreastworks along its sides and on its heights. And, so far as theyknew, no foe was within many miles. 

The Americans dismounted; that craggy hill was impassable to horsemen. Though less in number than their foes, and with a steep mountain toclimb, they did not hesitate. The gallant nine hundred were formed intofour columns, Campbell's regiment on the right centre and Shelby's onthe left, taking the post of greatest peril. Sevier, with a part ofCleveland's men, led the right wing, and Williams, with the remainder ofCleveland's men, the left, their orders being to pass the position ofFerguson to right and left and climb the ridge in his rear, while thecentre columns attacked him in front. 

So well was the surprise managed that the Westerners were within aquarter of a mile of the enemy before they were discovered. Climbingsteadily upon their front, the two centre columns quickly began theattack. Shelby, a hardy, resolute man, "stiff as iron, " brave among thebravest, led the way straight onward and upward, with but one thought inhis mind, --to do that for which he had come. Facing Campbell were theBritish regulars, who sprang to their arms and charged his men withfixed bayonets, forcing the riflemen, who had no bayonets, to recoil. But they were soon rallied by their gallant leader, and returned eagerlyto the attack. 

For ten or fifteen minutes a fierce and bloody battle was kept up atthis point, the sharp-shooting woodsmen making havoc in the ranks of thefoe. Then the right and left wings of the Americans closed in on theflank and rear of the British and encircled them with a hot fire. Fornearly an hour the battle continued, with a heavy fire on both sides. Atlength the right wing gained the summit of the cliff and poured such adeadly fire on the foe from their point of vantage that it wasimpossible to bear it. 

Ferguson had been killed, and his men began to retreat along the top ofthe ridge, but here they found themselves in the face of the Americanleft wing, and their leader, seeing that escape was impossible andresistance hopeless, displayed a white flag. At once the firing ceased, the enemy throwing down their arms and surrendering themselves prisonersof war. More than a third of the British force lay dead, or badlywounded; the remainder were prisoners; not more than twenty of the wholewere missing. The total loss of the Americans was twenty-eight killedand sixty wounded, Colonel Williams, a man of great valor anddiscretion, being among the killed. 

The battle ended, a thirst for vengeance arose. Among the Toryprisoners were known house--burners and murderers. Among the victorswere men who had seen their cruel work, had beheld women and children, homeless and hopeless, robbed and wronged, nestling about fires kindledin the ground, where they mourned their slain fathers and husbands. Under such circumstances it is not strange that they seized and hangednine or ten of the captives, desisting only when Campbell gave ordersthat this work should cease, and threatened with severe punishment allwho engaged in it. 

The victory of the men of the backwoods at King's Mountain was like theformer one of Washington at Trenton. It inspired with hope thedespairing people and changed the whole aspect of the war. It filled theTories of North Carolina with such wholesome dread that they no longerdared to join the foe or molest their patriot neighbors. The patriots ofboth the Carolinas were stirred to new zeal. The broken and dispiritedfragments of Gates's army took courage again and once more came togetherand organized, soon afterward coming under the skilled command ofGeneral Greene. 

Tarleton had reached the forks of the Catawba when news of Ferguson'ssignal defeat reached him and caused him to return in all haste to joinCornwallis. The latter, utterly surprised to find an enemy falling onhis flank from the far wilderness beyond the mountains, whence he hadnot dreamed of a foe, halted in alarm. He dared not leave an enemy likethis in his rear, and found himself obliged to retreat, giving up hisgrand plan of sweeping the two Carolinas and Virginia into hisvictorious net. Such was the work done by the valiant men of theWatauga. They saved the South from loss until Morgan and Greene couldcome to finish the work they had so well begun. 

_GENERAL GREENE'S FAMOUS RETREAT. _

The rain was pouring pitilessly from the skies. The wind blew chill fromthe north. The country was soaked with the falling flood, darkrain-clouds swept across the heavens, and a dreary mist shut out all thedistant view. In the midst of this cheerless scene a solitary horsemanstood on a lonely roadside, with his military cape drawn closely up, andhis horse's head drooping as if the poor beast was utterly weary of thesituation. In truth, they had kept watch and ward there for hours, andnight was near at hand, the weary watcher still looking southward withan anxiety that seemed fast growing into hopeless despondency. 

At times, as he waited, a faint, far-off, booming sound was heard, whichcaused the lonely cavalier to lift his head and listen intently. Itmight have been the sound of cannon, it might have been distant thunder, but whatever it was, his anxiety seemed steadily to increase. 

The day darkened into night, and hour by hour night crept on untilmidnight came and passed, yet the lone watcher waited still, his horsebeside him, the gloom around him, the rain still plashing on the soddenroad. It was a wearing vigil, and only a critical need could have kepthim there through those slow and dreary hours of gloom. 

At length he sharply lifted his head and listened more intently thanbefore. It was not the dull and distant boom this time, but a nearersound that grew momentarily more distinct, the thud, it seemed, of ahorse's hoofs. In a few minutes more a horseman rode into the narrowcircle of view. 

"Is that you, sergeant?" asked the watcher. 

"Yes, sir, " answered the other, with an instinctive military salute. 

"What news? I have been waiting here for hours for the militia, and nota man has come. I trust there is nothing wrong. "

"Everything is wrong, " answered the new-comer. "Davidson is dead and themilitia are scattered to the winds. Cornwallis is over the Catawba andis in camp five miles this side of the river. "

"You bring bad news, " said the listener, with a look of agitation. "Davidson dead and his men dispersed! That is bad enough. And Morgan?"

"I know nothing about him. "

Sad of heart, the questioner mounted his impatient steed and rodedisconsolately away along the muddy road. He was no less a person thanGeneral Greene, the newly-appointed commander of the American forces inthe South, and the tidings he had just heard had disarranged all hisplans. With the militia on whose aid he had depended scattered inflight, and no sign of others coming, his hope of facing Cornwallis inthe field was gone, and he was a heavy-hearted man when he rode atlength into the North Carolina town of Salisbury and dismounted at thedoor of Steele's tavern, the house of entertainment in that place. As heentered the reception-room of the hotel, stiff and weary from his longvigil, he was met by Dr. Read, a friend. 

"What! alone, General?" exclaimed Read. 

"Yes; tired, hungry, alone, and penniless. "

The fate of the patriot cause in the South seemed to lie in thosehopeless words. Mrs. Steele, the landlady, heard them, and made allhaste to prepare a bountiful supper for her late guest, who sat seekingto dry himself before the blazing fire. As quickly as possible a smokinghot supper was on the table before him, and as he sat enjoying it with acraving appetite, Mrs. Steele again entered the room. 

Closing the door carefully behind her, she advanced with a look ofsympathy on her face, and drew her hands from under her apron, each ofthem holding a small bag of silver coin. 

"Take these, general, " she said. "You need them, and I can do withoutthem. "

A look of hope beamed on Greene's face as he heard these words. With aspirit like this in the women of the country, he felt that no man shoulddespair. Rising with a sudden impulse, he walked to where a portrait ofGeorge III. Hung over the fireplace, remaining from the old ante-wartime. He turned the face of this to the wall and wrote these words onthe back: "Hide thy face, George, and blush. "

It is said that this portrait was still hanging in the same place notmany years ago, with Greene's writing yet legible upon it, and possiblyit may be there still. As for Mrs. Steele, she had proved herself apatriot woman, of the type of Mrs. Motte, who furnished Marion witharrows for the burning of her own house when it was occupied by a partyof British soldiers whom he could not dislodge. And they two were farfrom alone in the list of patriot women in the South. 

The incident in General Greene's career above given has become famous. And connected with it is the skilful military movement by which herestored the American cause in the South, which had been nearly lost bythe disastrous defeat of General Gates. This celebrated example ofstrategy has often been described, but is worth telling again. 

Lord Cornwallis, the most active of the British commanders in the war ofAmerican Independence, had brought South Carolina and Georgia under hiscontrol, and was marching north with the expectation of soon bringingNorth Carolina into subjection, and following up his success with theconquest of Virginia. This accomplished, he would have the whole Southsubdued. But in some respects he reckoned without his host. He had nowsuch men as Greene and Morgan in his front, Marion and Sumter in hisrear, and his task was not likely to prove an easy one. 

As for Morgan, he sent the rough-rider Tarleton to deal with him, fancying that the noted rifleman, who had won undying fame in theNorth, would now meet fate in the face, and perhaps be captured, withall his men. But Morgan had a word to say about that, as was proved onthe 17th of January, 1781, when he met Tarleton at the Cowpens, a placeabout five miles south of the North Carolina line. 

Tarleton had the strongest and best appointed force, and Morgan, many ofwhose men were untried militia, seemed in imminent danger, especiallywhen the men of the Maryland line began to retreat, and the British, thinking the day their own, pressed upon them with exultant shouts. Butto their surprise the bold Marylanders suddenly halted, turned, andgreeted their pursuers with a destructive volley. At the same time theVirginia riflemen, who had been posted on the wings, closed in on bothflanks of the British and poured a shower of bullets into their ranks. The British were stunned by this abrupt change in the situation, andwhen the Maryland line charged upon them with levelled bayonets theybroke and fled in dismay. 

Colonel Washington commanded the small cavalry force, so far held inreserve and unseen. This compact body of troopers now charged on theBritish cavalry, more than three times their numbers, and quickly putthem to flight. Tarleton himself made a narrow escape, for he received awound from Washington's sword in the hot pursuit. So utter was the routof the British that they were pursued for twenty miles, and lost morethan three hundred of their number in killed and wounded and sixhundred in prisoners, with many horses, wagons, muskets, and cannon. Tarleton's abundant baggage was burned by his own order to save it fromcapture. In this signal victory Morgan lost only ten men killed andsixty wounded. 

And now began that famous retreat, which was of more advantage to theAmericans than a victory. Morgan, knowing well that Cornwallis wouldsoon be after him to retrieve the disaster at the Cowpens, hastened withhis prisoners and spoils across the Catawba. Cornwallis, furious at hisdefeat and eager to move rapidly in pursuit, set fire to all his baggageand wagons except those absolutely needed, thus turning his army intolight troops at the expense of the greater part of its food-supply andmunitions. 

But when he reached the Catawba, he found it so swollen with the rainsthat he was forced to halt on its banks while Morgan continued hismarch. Meanwhile, General Greene was making earnest efforts to collect aforce of militia, directing all those who came in to meet at a certainpoint. Such was the situation on the 1st of February when Greene waitedfor weary hours at the place fixed upon for the militia to assemble, only to learn that Cornwallis had forced the passage of the river, dispersing the North Carolina militia left to guard the ford, andkilling General Davidson, their commander. He had certainly abundantreason for depression on that wet and dreary night when he rode aloneinto Salisbury. 

The Catawba crossed, the next stream of importance was the Yadkin. Hither Morgan marched in all haste, crossing the stream on the 2d and 3dof February, and at once securing all boats. The rains began to fallagain before his men were fairly over, and soon the stream was swellingwith the mountain floods. When Cornwallis reached its banks it wasswollen high and running madly, and it was the 7th of February before hewas able to cross. It seemed, indeed, as if Providence had come to theaid of the Americans, lowering the rains for them and raising them fortheir foes. 

Meanwhile, the two divisions of the American army were marching onconverging lines, and on the 9th the forces under Greene and Morgan madea junction at Guilford Court-House, Cornwallis being then at Salem, twenty-five miles distant. A battle was fought at this place a monthlater, but just then the force under Greene's command was too small torisk a fight. A defeat at that time might have proved fatal to the causeof the South. Nothing remained but to continue the retreat across theState to the border of Virginia, and there put the Dan River between himand his foe. 

To cover the route of his retreat from the enemy, Greene detachedGeneral Williams with the flower of his troops to act as a light corps, watch and impede Cornwallis and strive to lead him towards Dix's ferryon the Dan, while the crossing would be made twenty miles lower down. 

It was a terrible march which the poor patriots made during the nextfour days. Without tents, with thin and ragged clothes, most of themwithout shoes, "many hundreds of the soldiers tracking the ground withtheir bloody feet, " they retreated at the rate of seventeen miles a dayalong barely passable roads, the wagon-wheels sinking deep in the mud, and every creek swollen with the rains. In these four days of anxietyGreene slept barely four hours, watching every detail with a vigilanteye, which nothing escaped. On the 14th they reached the ford, hurryingthe wagons across and then the troops, and before nightfall Greene wasable to write that "all his troops were over and the stage was clear. "

General Williams had aided him ably in this critical march, keeping justbeyond reach of Cornwallis, and deceiving him for a day or two as to theintention of the Americans. When the British general discovered how hehad been deceived, he got rid of more of his baggage by the easy methodof fire, and chased Williams across the State at the speed of thirtymiles a day. But the alert Americans marched forty miles a day andreached the fords of the Dan just as the last of Greene's men hadcrossed. That night the rear guard crossed the stream, and whenCornwallis reached its banks, on the morning of the 15th, to his deepchagrin he found all the Americans safe on the Virginia side and readyto contest the crossing if he should seek to continue the pursuit. 

That famous march of two hundred miles, from the south side of theCatawba to the north side of the Dan, in which the whole State of NorthCarolina was crossed by the ragged and largely shoeless army, was thesalvation of the Southern States. In Greene's camp there was only joyand congratulation. Little did the soldiers heed their tatteredgarments, their shoeless feet, their lack of blankets and of regularfood, in their pride at having outwitted the British army and fulfilledtheir duty to their country. With renewed courage they were ready tocross the Dan again and attack Cornwallis and his men. Washington wroteto General Greene, applauding him highly for his skilful feat, and evena British historian gave him great praise and credit for his skill instrategy. 

Shall we tell in a few words the outcome of this fine feat? Cornwallishad been drawn so far from his base of supplies, and had burned so muchof his war-material, that he found himself in an ugly quandary. On hisreturn march Greene became the pursuer, harassing him at every step. When Guilford Court-House was reached again Greene felt strong enough tofight, and though Cornwallis held the field at the end of the battle hewas left in such a sorry plight that he was forced to retreat toWilmington and leave South Carolina uncovered. Here it did not takeGreene long, with the aid of such valiant partisans as Marion, Sumter, and Lee, to shut the British up in Charleston and win back the State. 

Cornwallis, on the other hand, concluded to try his fortune inVirginia, where there seemed to be a fine chance for fighting andconquest. But he was not long there before he found himself shut up inYorktown like a rat in a trap, with Washington and his forces in frontand the French fleet in the rear. His surrender, soon after, not onlyfreed the South from its foes, but cured George III. Of any furtherdesire to put down the rebels in America. 

_ELI WHITNEY, THE INVENTOR OF THE COTTON-GIN. _

In the harvest season of the cotton States of the South a vast, fleecysnow-fall seems to have come down in the silence of the night andcovered acres innumerable with its virgin emblem of plenty andprosperity. It is the regal fibre which is to set millions of looms inbusy whirl and to clothe, when duly spun and woven, half the populationof the earth. That "cotton is king" has long been held as a potentpolitical axiom in the United States, yet there was a time when cottonwas not king, but was an insignificant member of the agriculturalcommunity. How cotton came to the throne is the subject of our presentsketch. 

In those far-off days when King George of England was trying to forcethe rebellious Americans to buy and drink his tea and pay for hisstamps, the people of Georgia and South Carolina were first beginning totry if they could do something in the way of raising cotton. After thewar of independence was over, an American merchant in Liverpool receivedfrom the South a small consignment of eight bags of cotton, holdingabout twelve hundred pounds, the feeble pioneer of the great cottoncommerce. When it was landed on the wharves in Liverpool, in 1784, thecustom-house officials of that place looked at it with alarm andsuspicion. What was this white-faced stranger doing here, claiming tocome from a land that had never seen a cotton-plant? It must have comefrom somewhere else, and this was only a deep-laid plot to get itselflanded on English soil without paying an entrance fee. 

So the stranger was seized and locked up, and Mr. Rathbone, themerchant, had no easy time in proving to the officials that it wasreally a scion of the American soil, and that the ships that brought ithad the right to do so. But after it was released from confinement therewas still a difficulty. Nobody would buy it. The manufacturers wereafraid to handle this new and unknown kind of cotton for fear it wouldnot pay to work it up, and at last it had to be sold for a song to get atrial. Such was the state of the American industry at the period whenthe great republic was just born. It may be said that the nation and itsgreatest product were born together, like twin children. 

[Illustration: COTTON-GIN. ]

The new industry grew very slowly, and the planters who were trying toraise cotton in their fields felt much like giving it up as somethingthat would never pay. In fact, there was a great difficulty in the waythat gave them no end of trouble, and made the cost of cotton so greatthat there was very little room for profit. For a time it looked as ifthey would have to go back to corn and rice and let cotton go by theboard. 

The trouble lay in the fact that in the midst of each little head ofcotton fibres, like a young bird in its nest, lay a number of seeds, towhich the fibres were closely attached. These seeds had to be got out, and this was very slow work. It had to be done by hand, and in eachplantation store-house a group of old negroes might be seen, diligentlyat work in pulling the seeds out from the fibres. Work as hard as theycould it was not easy to clean more than a pound a day, so that by thetime the crop was ready for market it had cost so much that the planterhad to be content with a very small rate of profit. Such was the stateof the cotton industry as late as 1792, when the total product was onehundred and thirty-eight thousand pounds. In 1795 it had jumped to sixmillion pounds, and in 1801 to twenty million pounds. This was awonderful change, and it may well be asked how it was brought about. This question brings us to our story, which we have next to tell. 

In the year 1792 a bright young Yankee came down to Georgia to begin hiscareer by teaching in a private family. He was one of the kind who areborn with a great turn for tinkering. When he was a boy he mended thefiddles of all the people round about, and after that took to makingnails, canes, and hat-pins. He was so handy that the people said therewas nothing Eli Whitney could not do. 

But he seems to have become tired of tinkering, for he went to collegeafter he had grown to manhood, and from college he went to Georgia toteach. But there he found himself too late, for another teacher had theplace which he expected to get, so there he was, stranded far from home, with nothing to do and with little money in his purse. By good fortunehe found an excellent friend. Mrs. Greene, the widow of the famousGeneral Greene of the Revolution, lived near Savannah, and took quite afancy to the poor young man. She urged him to stay in Georgia and tokeep up his studies, saying that he could have a home in her house aslong as he pleased. 

This example of Southern hospitality was very grateful to the friendlessyoung man, and he accepted the kindly invitation, trying to pay his wayby teaching Mrs. Greene's children, and at the same time studying law. But he was born for an inventor, not a lawyer, and could not keep hisfingers off of things. Nothing broke down about Mrs. Greene's house thathe did not soon set working all right again. He fitted up embroideryframes for her, and made other things, showing himself so very handythat she fancied he could do anything. 

One day Mrs. Greene heard some of the neighboring planters complainingof the trouble they had in clearing the cotton of its seeds. They couldmanage what was called the long-staple cotton by the use of a roughroller machine brought from England, which crushed the seeds, and then"bowed" or whipped the dirt out of the lint. But this would not workwith short-staple cotton, the kind usually grown, and there was nothingto do but to pick the hard seeds out by hand, at the rate of a pound aday by the fastest workers. The planters said it would be a splendidthing if they only had a machine that would do this work. Mrs. Greenetold them that this might not be so hard to do. "There is a young man atmy house, " she said, "who can make anything;" and to prove it, sheshowed them some of the things he had made. Then she introduced them toEli Whitney, and they asked him if he thought he could make a machine todo the work they so badly wanted. 

"I don't know about that, " he replied. "I know no more about cotton thana child knows about the moon. "

"You can easily learn all there is to know about it, " they urged. "Wewould be glad to show you our fields and our picker-houses and give youall the chance you need to study the subject. "

Mr. Whitney made other objections. He was interested in his law studies, and did not wish to break them off. But a chance to work at machinerywas too great an attraction for him to withstand, and at length heconsented to look over the matter and see if he could do anything withit. 

The young inventor lost no time. This was something much more to hisliking than poring over the dry books of the law, and he went to workwith enthusiasm. He went into the fields and studied the growing cotton. Then he watched the seed-pickers at their work. Taking specimens of theripe cotton-boll to his room, he studied the seeds as they lay cradledin the fibre, and saw how they were fastened to it. To get them outthere must be some way of dragging them apart, pulling the fibres fromthe seed and keeping them separate. 

The inventor studied and thought and dreamed, and in a very short timehis quick genius saw how the work could be done. And he no sooner saw itthan he set to work to do it. The idea of the cotton-gin was fullyformed in his mind before he had lifted his hand towards making one. 

It was not easy, in fact. It is often a long road between an inventor'sfirst idea and a machine that will do all he wants it to. And he hadnothing to work with, but had to make his own tools and manufacture hisown wire, and work upward from the very bottom of things. 

In a few months, however, he had a model ready. Mrs. Greene was sointerested in his work and so proud of his success that she induced himto show the model and explain its working to some of her planterfriends, especially those who had induced him to engage in the work. When they saw what he had done, and were convinced of the truth of whathe told them, --that they could clean more cotton in a day by his machinethan in many months by the old hand-picking way, --their excitement wasgreat, and the report of the wonderful invention spread far and wide. 

Shall we say here what this machine was like? The principle was simpleenough, and from that day to this, though the machine has been greatlyimproved, Whitney's first idea still holds good. It was a saw-gin then, and it is a saw-gin still. "Gin, " we may say here, is short for"engine. "

This is the plan. There is a grid, or row of wires, set upright and soclose together that the seeds will not go through the openings. Behindthese is a set of circular saws, so placed that their teeth pass throughthe openings between the wires. When the machine is set in motion thecotton is put into a hopper, which feeds it to the grid, and therevolving saws catch the fibre or lint with their teeth and drag itthrough the wires. The seeds are too large to follow, so the cotton istorn loose from them and they slide down and out of the way. As thewheel turns round with its teeth full of cotton lint, a revolving brushsweeps it away so that the teeth are cleaned and ready to take up morelint. A simple principle, you may say, but it took a good head to thinkit out, and to it we owe the famous cotton industry of the South. 

But poor Whitney did not get the good from his invention that hedeserved, for a terrible misfortune happened to him. Many people came tosee the invention, but he kept the workshop locked, for he did not wantstrangers to see it till he had it finished and his patent granted. Theend was, that one night some thieves broke into the shop and stole themodel, and there were some machines made and in operation before thepoor inventor could make another model and secure his patent. 

This is only one of the instances in which an inventor has been robbedof the work of his brain, and others have grown rich by it, while hehas had trouble to make a living. A Mr. Miller, who afterward marriedMrs. Greene, went into partnership with Whitney, and supplied him withfunds, and he got out a patent in 1794. But the demand for the machineswas so great that he could not begin to supply them, and the piratedmachines, though they were much inferior to his perfected ones, wereeagerly bought. Then his shop burned with all its contents, and thatmade him a bankrupt. 

For years after that Whitney sought to obtain justice. In some of theStates he was fairly treated and in others he was not, and in 1812Congress refused to renew the patent, and the field was thrown open foreverybody to make the machines. Nearly all he ever got for his inventionwas fifty thousand dollars paid him by the Legislature of SouthCarolina. 

In later years Whitney began to make fire-arms for the government, andhe was so successful in this that he grew rich, while he greatlyimproved the machinery and methods. It was he who first began to makeeach part separately, so it would fit in any gun, a system now used inall branches of manufacture. As for the cotton industry, to which EliWhitney gave the first great start, it will suffice to say that itsproduct has grown from less than one thousand bales, when he began hiswork, to over ten million bales a year. 

_HOW OLD HICKORY FOUGHT THE CREEKS. _

Shall we seek to picture to our readers a scene in the streets ofNashville, Tennessee, less than a century ago, though it seems to belongto the days of barbarism? Two groups of men, made up of the mostrespectable citizens of the place, stood furiously shooting at eachother with pistols and guns, as if this was their idea of after-dinnerrecreation. Their leaders were Colonel Thomas H. Benton, afterwardfamous in the United States Senate, and General Andrew Jackson, famousin a dozen ways. The men of the frontier in those days were hot intemper and quick in action, and family feuds led quickly to wounds anddeath, as they still do in the mountains of East Tennessee. 

Some trifling quarrel, that might perhaps have been settled by fiveminutes of common-sense arbitration, led to this fierce fray, in themidst of which Jesse Benton, brother of the colonel, fired at Jacksonwith a huge pistol, loaded to the muzzle with bullets and slugs. It waslike a charge of grape-shot. A slug from it shattered Jackson's leftshoulder, a ball sank to the bone in his left arm, and another ballsplintered a board by his side. 

When the fight ended Jackson was found insensible in the entry of atavern, with the blood pouring profusely from his wounds. He was carriedin and all the doctors of the town were summoned, but before thebleeding could be stopped two mattresses were soaked through with blood. The doctors said the arm was so badly injured that it must be taken offat once. But when Old Hickory set his lips in his grim way, and said, "I'll keep my arm, " the question was settled; no one dare touch thatarm. 

For weeks afterward Jackson lay, a helpless invalid, while his terriblewounds slowly healed. And while he lay there a dreadful event took placein the territory to the south, which called for the presence of men likeOld Hickory, sound of limb and in full strength. This was the frightfulIndian massacre at Fort Mimms, one of the worst in all our history. 

It was now the autumn of the year 1813, the second year of the war withEngland. Tecumseh, the famous Indian warrior and orator, had stirred upthe savages of the South to take the British side in the war, and forfear of an Indian rising the settlers around Fort Mimms, in southernAlabama, had crowded into the fort, which was only a rude log stockade. On the morning of August 30 more than five hundred and fifty souls, onehundred of them being women and children, were crowded within thatcontracted space. On the evening of that day four hundred of them, including all the women and children, lay bleeding on the ground, scalped and shockingly mangled. A thousand Creek Indians had broken intothe carelessly guarded fort, and perpetrated one of the most horridmassacres in the history of Indian wars. Weathersford, the leader of theIndians, tried to stop the ferocious warriors in their dreadful work, but they surrounded him and threatened him with their tomahawks whilethey glutted to the full their thirst for blood. 

Many days passed before the news of this frightful affair in thesouthern wilderness reached Nashville. The excitement it created wasintense. The savages were in arms and had tasted blood. The settlementseverywhere were in peril. The country might be ravaged from the Ohio tothe Gulf. It was agreed by all that there was only one thing to do, theIndians must be put down. But the man best fitted to do it, the man whowas depended upon in every emergency, lay half dead in his room, slowlyrecovering from his dreadful wound. 

A year before Jackson had led two thousand men to Natchez to defend NewOrleans in case the British should come, and had been made by thegovernment a major-general of volunteers. He was the man every onewanted now, but to get him seemed impossible, and the best that could bedone was to get his advice. So a committee was appointed to visit andconfer with the wounded hero. 

When the members of the committee called on the war-horse of the Westthey found him still within the shadow of death, his wounds sore andfestering, his frame so weak that he could barely raise his head fromthe pillow. But when they told him of the massacre and the revengefulfeeling of the people, the news almost lifted him from his bed. Itseemed to send new life coursing through his veins. His voice, weakenedby illness, yet with its old ring of decision, was raised for quick andstern action against the savage foes who had so long menaced Tennessee. And if they wanted a leader he was the man. 

When the committee reported the next day, they said there was no doubtthat "our brave and patriotic General Jackson" would be ready to leadthe men of war by the time they were ready to march. Where Jackson ledthere would be plenty to follow. Four thousand men were called out withorders to assemble at Fayetteville, eighty miles south of Nashville, onOctober 4, just one month from the day when Jackson had received hiswounds. From his bed he took command. By his orders Colonel Coffee rodeto Huntsville, Alabama, with five hundred men. As he advanced volunteerscame riding in armed and equipped, till he was at the head of thirteenhundred men. 

On the 7th of October Jackson himself reached the rendezvous. He wasstill a mere wreck, thin as a shadow, tottering with weakness, andneeding to be lifted bodily to his horse. His arm was closely bound andin a sling. His wounds were so sensitive that the least jar or wrenchgave him agony. His stomach was in such a state that he was in dangerof dying from starvation. Several times during his first two days' ridehe had to be sponged from head to foot with whiskey. Yet his dauntlessspirit kept him up, and he bore the dreadful ride of eighty miles with afortitude rarely equalled. So resolute was he that he reachedFayetteville before half the men had gathered. He was glad there toreceive news that the Creeks were advancing northward towards Tennessee. 

"Give them my thanks for saving me the pain of travelling, " he said. "Imust not be outdone in politeness, and will try to meet them half-way. "

On the 11th a new advance was made to Huntsville, the troops riding sixmiles an hour for five hours, a remarkable feat for a man in Jackson'scondition. Many a twinge of bitter pain he had on that march, but hisspirit was past yielding. At this point Colonel Coffee was joined, andthe troops encamped on a bend of the Tennessee River. A false alarm ofthe advance of the Indians had caused this hasty march. 

Jackson and his men--twenty-five hundred in number with thirteen hundredhorses--now found themselves threatened by a foe more terrible than theIndians they had come to meet. They were in the heart of the wildernessof Alabama, far away from any full supply of food. Jackson thusdescribes this foe, in a letter written by his secretary:

"There is an enemy whom I dread much more than I do the hostileCreeks--I mean the meagre monster _Famine_. I shall leave thisencampment in the morning direct for the Ten Islands, and yet I havenot on hand two days' supply of bread-stuffs. "

[Illustration: JACKSON'S BIRTHPLACE. ]

A thousand barrels of flour and a proportionate supply of meat had beenpurchased for him a week before. But the Tennessee River was low, theflatboats would not float, and the much-needed food lay in the shallowsthree hundred miles up-stream. There was nothing to do but to live onthe country, and this Colonel Coffee had swept almost clear ofprovisions on his advance movement. 

Under such circumstances Jackson ran a great risk in marching fartherinto the Indian country. Yet the exigency was one in which boldnessseemed necessary. A reverse movement might have brought the Indians inforce on the settlers of Tennessee, with sanguinary results. Keeping hisforagers busy in search of food, he moved steadily southward till theCoosa River was reached. Here came the first encounter with the savages. There was a large body of them at Tallushatches, thirteen miles away. Atdaybreak on the morning after the Coosa was reached the Indian camp wasencircled by Colonel Coffee with a thousand men. The savages, taken bysurprise, fought fiercely and desperately, and fell where they stood, fighting while a warrior remained alive. All the prisoners were womenand children, who were taken to the settlements and kindly treated. Jackson himself brought up one of the boys in his own family. 

Four days afterward news came that a body of friendly Creeks, onehundred and fifty in number, were at Talladega, thirty miles away, surrounded by a thousand hostile Indians, cut off from theirwater-supply and in imminent danger of annihilation. A wily chief haddressed himself in the skin of a large hog, and in this disguise passedunsuspected through the hostile lines, bringing his story to Jacksontwenty-four hours later. 

At that moment the little army had only one day's supply of food, butits general did not hesitate. Advancing with all the men fit to move, they came within hearing of the yelling enemy, and quickly closed inupon them. When that brief battle ended two hundred of the Indian braveslay dead on the field and Colonel Coffee with his horsemen was in hotpursuit of the remainder. As for the rescued Indians, their joy wasbeyond measure, for they had looked only for death. They gathered aroundtheir preserver, expressing their gratitude by joyful cries andgestures, and gladly gave what little corn they had left to feed thehungry soldiers. 

The loss of the whites in this raid was fifteen men killed andeighty-six wounded. The badly wounded were carried in litters back toFort Strother, where the sick had been left, and where Jackson now fullyexpected to find a full supply of food. To his acute disappointment notan ounce had arrived, little in the shape of food being left but a fewhalf-starved cattle. For several days Jackson and his staff ate nothingbut tripe without seasoning. 

And now, for ten long weeks, came that dread contest he had feared, --thebattle with famine. With a good supply of provisions he could haveended the war in a fortnight. As it was, the men had simply to wait andforage, being at times almost in a starving state. The brave borderersfound it far harder to sit and starve than it would have been to fight, and discontent in the camp rose to the height of mutiny, which it tookall the general's tact and firmness to overcome. 

Part of his men were militia, part of them volunteers, and between thesethere was a degree of jealousy. On one occasion the militia resolved tostart for home, but when they set out in the early morning they foundthe volunteers drawn up across the road, with their grim general attheir head. When they saw Jackson they turned and marched back to theirquarters again. Soon afterward the volunteers were infected with thesame fancy. But again Jackson was aware of their purpose, and when theymarched from their quarters they found their way blocked by the militia, with Jackson at their head. The tables had been turned on them. 

As time went on and hunger grew more relentless, the spirit ofdiscontent infected the entire force, and it took all the general'spower to keep them in camp. On one occasion, a large body of the menseized their arms, and, swearing that they would not stay there to bestarved, got ready to march home. General Jackson, hot with wrath, seized a musket, and planting himself before them, swore "by theEternal" that he would shoot the first man that set a foot forward. Hiscountenance was appalling in its concentrated rage, his eyes blazedwith a terrible fire, and the mutineers, confronted by this apparitionof fury, hesitated, drew back, and retired to their tents. 

But the time came at length in which nothing would hold them back. Persuasion and threats were alike useless. The general used entreatiesand promises, saying, --

"I have advices that supply-wagons are on the way, and that there is alarge drove of cattle near at hand. Wait two days more, and if then theydo not come, we will all march home together. "

The two days passed and the food did not arrive. Much against his will, he was obliged to keep his word. "If only two men will stay with me, " hecried, "I will never give up the post. "

One hundred and nine men agreed to remain, and, leaving these in chargeof the fort, Jackson set out at the head of the others, with theirpromise that, when they procured supplies and satisfied their hunger, they would return to the fort and march upon the foe. The next day theexpected provision-train was met, and the hungry men were well fed. Buthome was in their minds, and it took all the general's indomitable willand fierce energy to induce them to turn back, and they did so then insullen discontent. In the end it was necessary to exchange these men forfresh volunteers. 

When the dissatisfied men got home they told such doleful tales of theirhardships and sufferings that the people were filled with dismay, volunteering came to an end, and even the governor wrote to Jackson, advising him to give up the expedition as hopeless and return home. 

Had not Andrew Jackson been one man in a million he would not havehesitated to obey. A well man might justly have despaired. But to aphysical wreck, his shoulder still painful, his left arm useless, suffering from insufficient food, from acute dyspepsia, from chronicdiarrhoea, from cramps of terrible severity--to a man in thiscondition, who should have been in bed under a physician's care, toremain seemed utter madness, and yet he remained. His indomitable spirittriumphed over his enfeebled body. He had set out to subdue the hostileIndians and save the settlements from their murderous raids, and, "bythe Eternal, " he would. 

He wrote a letter to Governor Blount, eloquent, logical, appealing, resolute, and so convincing in its arguments that the governor changedhis sentiment, the people became enthusiastic, volunteers came forwardfreely, and the most earnest exertions were made to collect and forwardsupplies. But this was not till the spring of 1814, and the lack ofsupplies continued the winter through. Only nine hundred discontentedtroops remained, but with these he won two victories over the Indians, in one of which an utter panic was averted only by his courage anddecision in the hour of peril. 

At length fresh troops began to arrive. A regiment of United Statessoldiers, six hundred strong, reached him on February 6. By the 1st ofMarch there were six thousand troops near Fort Strother, and only thearrival of a good food supply was awaited to make a finishing move. Foodcame slowly, despite all exertions. Over the miry roads the wagon-teamscould hardly be moved with light loads. Only absolutely necessary foodwas brought, --even whiskey, considered indispensable in those days, being barred out. All sick and disabled men were sent home, and thenon-combatants weeded out so thoroughly that only one man was left incamp who could beat the ordinary calls on the drum. At length, about themiddle of March, a sufficient supply of food was at hand and the finaladvance began. 

Meanwhile, the hostile Creeks had made themselves a stronghold at aplace fifty-five miles to the south. Here was a bend of TallapoosaRiver, called, from its shape, Tohopeka, or the "Horseshoe. " It was awell-wooded area, about one hundred acres in extent, across whose neckthe Indians had built a strong breastwork of logs, with two rows ofport-holes, the whole so well constructed that it was evident they hadbeen aided by British soldiers in its erection. At the bottom of thebend was a village of wigwams, and there were many canoes in the stream. 

Within this stronghold was gathered the fighting force of the tribe, nearly a thousand warriors, and in the wigwams were about three hundredwomen and children. It was evident that they intended to make here theirfinal, desperate stand. 

The force led against them was two thousand strong. Their route oftravel lay through the unbroken forest wilds, and it took eleven days toreach the Indian fort. A glance at it showed Jackson the weakness of thesavage engineering. As he said, they had "penned themselves in fordestruction. "

The work began by sending Colonel Coffee across the river, with ordersto post his men opposite the line of canoes and prevent the Indians fromescaping. Coffee did more than this; he sent swimmers over who cut loosethe canoes and brought them across the stream. With their aid he senttroops over the bend to attack the savages in the rear while Jacksonassailed them in front. 

The battle began with a fierce assault, but soon settled down to a slowslaughter, which lasted for five or six hours, --the fierce warriors, asin the former battles, refusing to ask for quarter or to accept theirlives. Their prophets had told them that if they did they would be putto death by torture. When the battle ended few of them were left alive. On the side of the whites only fifty-five were killed and about threetimes as many wounded. 

This signal defeat ended forever the power of the Cree nation, once theleading Indian power of the Gulf region. Such of the chiefs as survivedsurrendered. Among them was Weathersford, their valiant half-breedleader. Mounted on his well-known gray horse, famed for its speed andendurance, he rode to the door of Jackson's tent. The old soldier lookedup to see before him this famous warrior, tall, erect, majestic, anddignified. 

"I am Weathersford, " he said; "late your enemy, now your captive. "

From without the tent came fierce cries of "Kill him! kill him!"

"You may kill me if you wish, " said the proud chief; "but I came to tellyou that our women and children are starving in the woods. They neverdid you any harm and I came to beg you to send them food. "

Jackson looked sternly at the angry throng outside, and said, in hisvigorous way, "Any man who would kill as brave a man as this would robthe dead. "

He then invited the chief into his tent, where he promised him the aidhe asked for and freedom for himself. "I do not war with women andchildren, " he said. 

So corn was sent to the suffering women, and Weathersford was allowed tomount his good gray steed and ride away as he had come. He induced theremaining Creeks to accept the terms offered by the victorious general, these being peace and protection, with the provision that half theirlands should be ceded to the United States. 

As may well be imagined, a triumphant reception was given Jackson andhis men on their return to Nashville. Shortly afterward came the newsthat he had been appointed Major-General in the army of the UnitedStates, to succeed William Henry Harrison, resigned. He had made hismark well against the Indians; he was soon to make it as well againstthe British at New Orleans. 

_THE PIRATES OF BARATARIA BAY. _

On the coast of Louisiana, westward from the delta of the Mississippi, there lies a strange country, in which sea and land seem struggling fordominion, neither being victor in the endless contest. It is a low, flat, moist land, where countless water-courses intertwine into acomplex net-work; while nearer the sea are a multitude of bays, stretching far inland, and largely shut off from the salt sea waves bybarriers of long, narrow islands. Some of these islands are lowstretches of white sand, flung up by the restless waters which ever washto and fro. Others are of rich earth, brought down by lazy water-waysfrom the fertile north and deposited at the river outlets. Tall marshgrasses grow profusely here, and hide alike water and land. Everywhereare slow-moving, half-sleeping bayous, winding and twistinginterminably, and encircling multitudes of islands, which lie hiddenbehind a dense growth of rushes and reeds, twelve feet high. 

It was through this region, neither water nor land, that the haplessEvangeline, the heroine of Longfellow's famous poem, was rowed, seekingher lover in these flooded wilds, and not dreaming that he lay behindone of those reedy barrens, almost within touch, yet as unseen as ifleagues of land separated them. 

One of the bays of this liquid coast, some sixty miles south of NewOrleans, is a large sheet of water, with a narrow island partly shuttingit off from the Gulf. This is known as Grande Terre, and west of it isanother island known as Grande Isle. Between these two long land gatesis a broad, deep channel which serves as entrance to the bay. On thewestern side lies a host of smaller islands, the passes between themmade by the bayous which straggle down through the land. Northward thebay stretches sixteen miles inland, and then breaks up into a medley ofbayous and small lakes, cutting far into the land, and yielding an easypassage to the level of the Mississippi, opposite New Orleans. 

Such is Barataria Bay, once the famous haunt of the buccaneers. It seemsmade by nature as a lurking-place for smugglers and pirates, and that isthe purpose to which it was long devoted. The passages inland servedadmirably for the disposal of ill-gotten goods. For years the pirates ofBarataria Bay defied the authorities, making the Gulf the scene of theirexploits and finding a secret and ready market for their wares in NewOrleans. 

The pirate leaders were two daring Frenchmen, Pierre and Jean Lafitte, who came from Bordeaux some time after 1800 and settled in New Orleans. They were educated men, who had seen much of the world and spoke severallanguages fluently. Pierre, having served in the French army, became askilled fencing-master. Jean set up a blacksmith shop, his slaves doingthe work. Such was the creditable way in which these worthies begantheir new-world career. 

Their occupation changed in 1808, in which year the slave-trade wasbrought to an end by act of Congress. There was also passed an EmbargoAct, which forbade trade with foreign countries. Here was a doubleopportunity for men who placed gain above law. The Lafittes at once tookadvantage of it, smuggling negroes and British goods, bringing theirillicit wares inland by way of the bayous of the coastal plain andreadily disposing of them as honest goods. 

Not long after this time the British cruisers broke up the pirate hordeswhich had long infested the West Indies. Their haunts were taken andthey had to flee. Some of them became smugglers, landing their goods onAmelia Island, on the coast of Florida. Others sought the bays ofLouisiana, where they kept up their old trade. 

The Lafittes now found it to their advantage to handle the goods ofthese buccaneers, in which they posed as honest merchants. Later on theymade piracy their trade, the whole fleet of the rovers coming undertheir control. Throwing off the cloak of honesty, they openly defied thelaws. Prize goods and negroes were introduced into New Orleans withlittle effort at secrecy, and were sold in disregard of the law and thecustoms. It was well known that the Baratarian rovers were pirates, butthe weak efforts to dislodge them failed and the government was openlydespised. 

Making Barataria Bay their head-quarters and harbor of refuge, thepirates fortified Grande Terre, and built on it their dwellings andstore-houses. On Grande Isle farms were cultivated and orange-grovesplanted. On another island, named the Temple, they held auctions for thesale of their plunder, the purchasers smuggling it up the bayous andintroducing it under cover of night into New Orleans, where there wasnothing to show its source, though suspicion was rife. Such wasBarataria until the war with England began, and such it continuedthrough this war till 1814, the Lafittes and their pirate followersflourishing in their desperate trade. 

We might go on to tell a gruesome story of fearful deeds by thesebandits of the sea; of vessels plundered and scuttled, and sailors madeto walk the plank of death; of rich spoil won by ruthless murder, andwild orgies on the shores of Grande Terre. But of all this there islittle record, and the lives of these pirates yield us none of thescenes of picturesque wickedness and wholesale murder which embellishthe stories of Blackbeard, Morgan, and other sea-rovers of old. Yet thecareer of the Lafittes has an historical interest which makes it worththe telling. 

It was not until 1814, during the height of the war with England, thatthe easy-going Creoles of New Orleans grew indignant enough at the bolddefiance of law by the Lafittes to make a vigorous effort to stop it. Itwas high time, for the buccaneers had grown so bold as to fire on therevenue officers of the government. Determined to bear this disgrace nolonger, Pierre Lafitte was seized in the streets of New Orleans, andwith one of his captains, named Dominique Yon, was locked up in thecalaboosa. 

This step was followed by a proclamation from Governor Claiborne, offering five hundred dollars for the arrest of Jean Lafitte, the actingpirate chief. Lafitte insolently retorted by offering five thousanddollars for the head of the governor. This impudent defiance arousedClaiborne to more decisive action. A force of militia was called out andsent overland to Barataria, with orders to capture and destroy thesettlement of the buccaneers and seize all the pirates they could layhands on. 

The governor did not know the men with whom he had to deal. Their spieskept them fully informed of all his movements. Southward trudged thecitizen soldiers, tracking their oozy way through the water-soaked land. All was silent and seemingly deserted. They were near their goal, andnot a man had been seen. But suddenly a boatswain's whistle sounded, andfrom a dozen secret passages armed men swarmed out upon them, and in afew minutes had them surrounded and under their guns. Resistance washopeless, and they were obliged to surrender at discretion. The grimpirates stood ready to slaughter them all if a hand were raised inself-defence, and Lafitte, stepping forward, invited them to join hismen, promising them an easy life and excellent pay. Their captainsturdily refused. 

"Very well, " said Lafitte, with disdainful generosity. "You can go orstay as you please. Yonder is the road you came by. You are free tofollow it back. But if you are wise you will in future keep out of reachof the Jolly Rovers of the Gulf. "

We are not sure if these were Lafitte's exact words, but at any rate thecaptain and his men were set free and trudged back again, glad enough toget off with whole skins. Soon after that the war, which had lingered solong in the North, showed signs of making its way to the South. ABritish fleet appeared in the Gulf in the early autumn of 1814, and madean attack on Mobile. In September a war-vessel from this fleet appearedoff Barataria Bay, fired on one of the pirate craft, and dropped anchorsome six miles out. Soon a pinnace, bearing a white flag, put off fromits side and was rowed shoreward. It was met by a vessel which had putoff from Grande Terre. 

"I am Captain Lockyer, of the 'Sophia, '" said the British officer. "Iwish to see Captain Lafitte. "

"I am he, " came a voice from the pirate bark. 

"Then this is for you, " and Captain Lockyer handed Lafitte a bulkypackage. 

"Will you come ashore while I examine this?" asked Lafitte, courteously. "I offer you such humble entertainment as we poor mariners can afford. "

"I shall be glad to be your guest, " answered the officer. 

Lafitte now led the way ashore, welcomed the visitors to his islanddomain, and proceeded to open and examine the package brought him. Itcontained four documents, their general purport being to threaten thepirates with utter destruction if they continued to prey on the commerceof England and Spain, and to offer Lafitte, if he would aid the Britishcause, the rank of captain in the service of Great Britain, with a largesum of money and full protection for person and property. 

The letters read, Lafitte left the room, saying that he wished time toconsider before he could answer. But hardly had he gone when some of hismen rushed in, seized Captain Lockyer and his men, and locked them up asprisoners. They were held captive all night, doubtless in deep anxiety, for pirates are scarcely safe hosts, but in the morning Lafitte appearedwith profuse apologies, declaring loudly that his men had acted withouthis knowledge or consent, and leading the way to their boat. Lockyer waslikely glad enough to find himself on the Gulf waters again, despite thepirate's excuses. Two hours later Lafitte sent him word that he wouldaccept his offer, but that he must have two weeks to get his affairs inorder. With this answer, the "Sophia" lifted anchor, spread sails, andglided away. 

All this was a bit of diplomatic by-play on the part of Jean Lafitte. Hehad no notion of joining the British cause. The "Sophia" had not longdisappeared when he sent the papers to New Orleans, asking only onefavor in return, the release of his brother Pierre. This the authoritiesseem to have granted in their own way, for in the next morning's paperswas an offer of one thousand dollars reward for the capture of PierreLafitte, who had, probably with their connivance, broken jail during thenight. 

Jean Lafitte now offered Governor Claiborne his services in the war withthe British. He was no pirate, he said. That was a base libel. His shipswere legitimate privateers, bearing letters of marque from Venezuela inthe war of that country with Spain. He was ready and anxious to transferhis allegiance to the United States. 

His sudden change of tone had its sufficient reason. It is probable thatLafitte was well aware of a serious danger just then impending, far morethreatening than the militia raid which had been so easily defeated. Anaval expedition was ready to set out against him. It consisted of threebarges of troops under Commander Patterson of the American navy. Thesewere joined at the Balize by six gunboats and a schooner, and proceededagainst the piratical stronghold. 

On the 16th of September the small fleet came within sight of GrandeTerre, drew up in line of battle, and started for the entrance toBarataria Bay. Within this the pirate fleet, ten vessels in all, was inline to receive them. Soon there was trouble for the assailants. Shoalwater stopped the schooner, and the two larger gunboats ran aground. Buttheir men swarmed into boats and rowed on in the wake of the othervessels, which quickly made their way through the pass and began avigorous attack on its defenders. 

Now the war was all afoot, and we should be glad to tell of a gallantand nobly contested battle, in which the sea-rovers showed desperatecourage and reddened the sea with their blood. There might be insertedhere a battle-piece worthy of the Drakes and Morgans of old, if thefacts only bore us out. Instead of that, however, we are forced to saythat the pirates proved sheer caitiffs when matched against honest men, and the battle was a barren farce. 

Commander Patterson and his men dashed bravely on, and in a very shorttime two of the pirate vessels were briskly burning, a third had runaground, and the others were captured. Many of the pirates had fled; theothers were taken. The battle over, the buildings on Grande Terre andGrande Isle were destroyed and the piratical lurking-place utterlybroken up. This done, the fleet sailed in triumph for New Orleans, bringing with them the captured craft and the prisoners who had beentaken. But among the captives was neither of the Lafittes. They had notstood to their guns, but had escaped with the other fugitives into thesecret places of the bay. 

Thus ends the history of Barataria Bay as a haunt of pirates. Sincethat day only honest craft have entered its sheltered waters. But theLafittes were not yet at the end of their career, or at least one ofthem, for of Pierre Lafitte we hear very little after this time. Twomonths after their flight the famous British assault was made on NewOrleans. General Jackson hurried to its defence and called armed men tohis aid from all quarters, caring little who they were so they wereready to fight. 

Among those who answered the summons was Jean Lafitte. He called on OldHickory and told him that he had a body of trained artillerymen underhis command, tried and capable men, and would like to take a hand indefence of the city. Jackson, who had not long before spoken of theLafittes as "hellish banditti, " was very glad now to accept their aid. We read of his politely alluding to them as "these gentlemen, " and hegave into their charge the siege-guns in several of the forts. 

These guns were skilfully handled and vigorously served, the Baratariansfighting far more bravely in defence of the city than they had done indefence of their ships. They lent important aid in the defeat ofPackenham and his army, and after the battle Jackson commended themwarmly for their gallant conduct, praising the Lafittes also for "thesame courage and fidelity. "

A few words more and we have done. Of the pirates, two only made anyfuture mark. Dominique Yon, the captain who had shared imprisonmentwith Pierre Lafitte, now settled down to quiet city life, became aleader in ward politics, and grew into something of a local hero, fighting in the precincts instead of on the deck. 

Jean Lafitte, however, went back to his old trade. From New Orleans hemade his way to Texas, then a province of Mexico, and soon we hear ofhim at his buccaneering work. For a time he figured as governor ofGalveston. Then, for some years, he commanded a fleet that wore the thinguise of Columbian privateers. After that he threw off all disguise andbecame an open pirate, and as late as 1822 his name was the terror ofthe Gulf. Soon afterward a fleet of the United States swept those watersand cleared it of all piratical craft. Jean Lafitte then vanished fromview, and no one knows whether he died fighting for the black flag orended his life quietly on land. 

_THE HEROES OF THE ALAMO. _

On a day in the year 1835 the people of Nacogdoches, Texas, were engagedin the pleasant function of giving a public dinner to one of theirleading citizens. In the midst of the festivities a person entered theroom whose appearance was greeted with a salvo of hearty cheers. Thereseemed nothing in this person's appearance to call forth such a welcome. He was dressed in a half-Indian, half-hunter's garb, a long-barrelledrifle was slanted over his shoulder, and he seemed a favorable specimenof the "half-horse, half-alligator" type of the early West. But therewas a shrewd look on his weather-beaten face and a humorous twinkle inhis eyes that betokened a man above the ordinary frontier level, whileit was very evident that the guests present looked upon him as noevery-day individual. 

The visitor was, indeed, a man of fame, for he was no less a personagethan the celebrated Davy Crockett, the hunter hero of West Tennessee. His fame was due less to his wonderful skill with the rifle than to hisgenial humor, his endless stories of adventure, his marvellous power of"drawing the long bow. " Davy had once been sent to Congress, but therehe found himself in waters too deep for his footing. The frontier wasthe place made for him, and when he heard that Texas was in revoltagainst Mexican rule, he shouldered his famous rifle and set out to takea hand in the game of revolution. It was a question in those days withthe reckless borderers whether shooting a Mexican or a coon was thebetter sport. 

[Illustration: THE ALAMO. ]

The festive citizens of Nacogdoches heard that Davy Crockett had arrivedin their town on his way to join the Texan army, and at once sent acommittee to invite him to join in their feast. Hearty cheers, as wehave said, hailed his entrance, and it was not long before he had hisworthy hosts in roars of laughter with his quaint frontier stories. Hehad come to stay with them as a citizen of Texas, he said, and to helpthem drive out the yellow-legged greasers, and he wanted, then andthere, to take the oath of allegiance to their new republic. If theywanted to know what claim he had to the honor, he would let OldBetsy--his rifle--speak for him. Like George Washington, Betsy nevertold a lie. The Nacogdochians were not long in making him a citizen, andhe soon after set out for the Alamo, the scene of his final exploit andhis heroic death. 

The Alamo was a stronghold in the town of San Antonio de Bexar, inWestern Texas. It had been built for a mission house of the earlySpaniards, and though its walls were thick and strong, they were onlyeight feet high and were destitute of bastion or redoubt. The place hadnothing to make it suitable for warlike use, yet it was to win a greatname in the history of Texan independence, a name that spread farbeyond the borders of the "Lone Star State" and made its story atradition of American heroism. 

Soon after the insurrection began a force of Texans had taken SanAntonio, driving out its Mexican garrison. Santa Anna, the president ofMexico, quickly marched north with an army, breathing vengeance againstthe rebels. This town, which lay well towards the western border, wasthe first he proposed to take. Under the circumstances the Texans wouldhave been wise to retreat, for they were few in number, they had littleammunition and provisions, and the town was in no condition for defence. But retreat was far from their thoughts, and when, on an afternoon inFebruary, 1836, Santa Anna and his army appeared in the vicinity of SanAntonio, the Texans withdrew to the Alamo, the strongest building nearthe town, prepared to fight to the death. 

There were less than two hundred of them in all, against the thousandsof the enemy, but they were men of heroic mould. Colonel Travis, thecommander, mounted the walls with eight pieces of artillery, and did allhe could besides to put the place in a state of defence. To show thekind of man Travis was, we cannot do better than to quote his letterasking for aid. 

 "FELLOW-CITIZENS AND COMPATRIOTS, --I am besieged by a thousand or more of the Mexicans under Santa Anna. The enemy have commanded a surrender at discretion; otherwise the garrison is to be put to the sword if the place is taken. I have answered the summons with a cannon-shot, and our flag still waves proudly from the walls. I shall never surrender or retreat. Then I call on you in the name of liberty, of patriotism, and of everything dear to the American character, to come to our aid with all despatch. The enemy are receiving reinforcements daily, and will no doubt increase to three or four thousand in four or five days. Though this call may be neglected, I am determined to sustain myself as long as possible, and die like a soldier who never forgets what is due to his own honor or that of his country. Victory or death!"

 "W. BARRETT TRAVIS, Lieutenant-Colonel Commanding. "

 "P. S. --The Lord is on our side. When the enemy appeared in sight we had not three bushels of corn. We have since found, in deserted houses, eighty or ninety bushels, and got into the walls twenty or thirty head of beeves. "

 "T. "

The only reinforcements received in response to this appeal werethirty-two gallant men from Gonzales, who made the whole number onehundred and eighty-eight. Colonel Fannin, at Goliad, set out with threehundred men, but the breaking down of one of his wagons and a scarcityof supplies obliged him to return. Among the patriot garrison were DavyCrockett and Colonel James Bowie, the latter as famous a man in his wayas the great hunter. He was a duelist of national fame, in those dayswhen the border duels were fought with knife instead of pistol. Heinvented the Bowie knife, a terrible weapon in the hands of a resoluteman. To be famed as a duelist is no worthy claim to admiration, but tofight hand to hand with knife for weapon is significant of high courage. 

Small as were their numbers, and slight as were their means of defence, the heroes of the Alamo fought on without flinching. Santa Anna plantedhis batteries around the stronghold and kept up a steady bombardment. The Texans made little reply; their store of ammunition was so smallthat it had to be kept for more critical work. In the town a blood-redbanner was displayed in lurid token of the sanguinary purpose of theMexican leader, but the garrison showed no signs of dismay. They werethe descendants of men who had fought against the Indians of the Southunder like conditions, and they were not likely to forget the traditionsof their race. 

On the 3d of March a battery was erected within musket-shot of the northwall of the fort, on which it poured a destructive fire. Travis now sentout a final appeal for aid, and with it an affecting note to a friend, in which he said, --

"Take care of my boy. If the country should be saved I may make him asplendid fortune; but if the country should be lost and I shouldperish, he will have nothing but the proud recollection that he is theson of a man who died for his country. "

The invading force increased in numbers until, by the 5th of March, there were more than four thousand of them around the fort, most of themfresh, while the garrison was worn out with incessant toil and watching. The end was near at hand. Soon after midnight on the 6th the Mexicanarmy gathered close around the fort, prepared for an assault. Theinfantry carried scaling-ladders. Behind them were drawn up the cavalrywith orders to kill any man who might fly from the ranks. This indicatedSanta Anna's character and his opinion of his men. 

The men within the walls had no need to be driven to their work. Everyone was alert and at his post, and they met with a hot fire from cannonand rifles the Mexican advance. Just as the new day dawned, the ladderswere placed against the walls and the Mexicans scrambled up theirrounds. They were driven back with heavy loss. Again the charge forassault was sounded and a second rush was made for the walls, and oncemore the bullets of the defenders swept the field and the assailantsfell back in dismay. 

Santa Anna now went through the beaten ranks with threats and promises, seeking to inspire his men with new courage, and again they rushedforward on all sides of the fort. Many of the Texans had fallen and allof them were exhausted. It was impossible to defend the whole circle ofthe walls. The assailants who first reached the tops of the ladderswere hurled to the ground, but hundreds rushed in to take their places, and at a dozen points they clambered over the walls. It was no longerpossible for the handful of survivors to keep them back. 

In a few minutes the fort seemed full of assailants. The Texanscontinued to fight with unflinching courage. When their rifles wereemptied they used them as clubs and struggled on till overwhelmed bynumbers. Near the western wall of the fort stood Travis, in the cornernear the church stood Crockett, both fighting like Homeric heroes. OldBetsy had done an ample share of work that fatal night. Now, used as aclub, it added nobly to its record. The two heroes at length fell, butaround each was a heap of slain. 

Colonel Bowie had taken no part in the fight, having been for some dayssick in bed. He was there butchered and mutilated. All others who wereunable to fight met the same fate. It had been proposed to blow up themagazine, but Major Evans, the man selected for this duty, was shot ashe attempted to perform it. The struggle did not end while a man of thegarrison was alive, the only survivors being two Mexican women, Mrs. Dickenson (wife of one of the defenders) and her child, and the negroservant of Colonel Travis. As for the dead Texans, their bodies werebrutally mutilated and then thrown into heaps and burned. 

Thus fell the Alamo. Thus did the gallant Travis and his men keep theirpledge of "victory or death. " Like the Spartans at Thermopylæ, theheroes of the Alamo did not retreat or ask for quarter, but lay wherethey had stood in obedience to their country's commands. And before andaround them lay the bodies of more than five hundred of their enemies, with as many wounded. The Texans had not perished unavenged. The sunrose in the skies until it was an hour high. In the fort all was still;but the waters of the aqueduct surrounding resembled in their crimsonhue the red flag of death flying in the town. The Alamo was the AmericanThermopylæ. 

_HOW HOUSTON WON FREEDOM FOR TEXAS. _

We have told the story of the Alamo. It needs to complete it the storyof how Travis and his band of heroes were avenged. And this is also thestory of how Texas won its independence, and took its place in thecolony of nations as the "Lone Star Republic. "

The patriots of Texas had more to avenge than the slaughter at theAlamo. The defenders of Goliad, over four hundred in number, underColonel Fannin, surrendered, with a solemn promise of protection fromSanta Anna. After the surrender they were divided into severalcompanies, marched in different directions out of the town, and thereshot down in cold blood by the Mexican soldiers, not a man of them beingleft alive. 

Santa Anna now fancied himself the victor. He had killed two hundred menwith arms in their hands, and made himself infamous by the massacre offour hundred more, and he sent despatches to Mexico to the effect thathe had put down the rebellion and conquered a peace. What he had reallydone was to fill the Texans with thirst for revenge as well as love ofindependence. He had dealt with Travis and Fannin; he had Sam Houstonstill to deal with. 

General Houston was the leader of the Texan revolt. While thesemurderous events were taking place he had only four hundred men underhis command, and was quite unable to prevent them. Defence now seemedhopeless; the country was in a state of panic; the settlers wereabandoning their homes and fleeing as the Mexicans advanced; but SamHouston kept the field with a spirit like that which had animated thegallant Travis. 

As the Mexicans advanced Houston slowly retreated. He was manoeuvringfor time and place, and seeking to increase his force. Finally, afterhaving brought up his small army to something over seven hundred men, hetook a stand on Buffalo Bayou, a deep, narrow stream flowing into theSan Jacinto River, resolved there to strike a blow for Texanindependence. It was a forlorn hope, for against him was marshalled thefar greater force of the Mexican army. But Houston gave his men awatchword that added to their courage the hot fire of revenge. Aftermaking them an eloquent and impassioned address, he fired their soulswith the war-cry of "Remember the Alamo!"

Soon afterward the Mexican bugles rang out over the prairie, announcingthe approach of the vanguard of their army, eighteen hundred strong. They were well appointed, and made a showy display as they marchedacross the plain. Houston grimly watched their approach. Turning to hisown sparse ranks, he said, "Men, there is the enemy; do you wish tofight?" "We do, " came in a fierce shout. "Well, then, remember it isfor liberty or death! _Remember the Alamo!_"

As they stood behind their light breastworks, ready for an attack, if itshould be made, a lieutenant came galloping up, his horse covered withfoam. As he drew near he shouted along the lines, "I've cut down Vince'sbridge. " This was a bridge which both armies had used in coming to thebattle-field. General Houston had ordered its destruction. Its fall leftthe vanquished in that day's fight without hope of escape. 

Santa Anna evidently was not ready for an immediate assault. His menhalted and intrenched themselves. But Houston did not propose to delay. At three in the afternoon, while many of the Mexican officers wereenjoying their siesta in perfect confidence, Santa Anna himself beingasleep, the word to charge passed from rank to rank along the Texanfront, and in a moment the whole line advanced at double-quick time, filling the air with vengeful cries of "Remember the Alamo! RememberGoliad!"

The Mexican troops sprang to their arms and awaited the attack, reserving their fire until the patriots were within sixty paces. Thenthey poured forth a volley which, fortunately for the Texans, went overtheir heads, though a ball struck General Houston's ankle, inflicting avery painful wound. Yet, though bleeding and suffering, the old herokept to his saddle till the action was at an end. 

The Texans made no reply to the fire of the foe until withinpistol-shot, and then poured their leaden hail into the very bosoms ofthe Mexicans. Hundreds of them fell. There was no time to reload. Havingno bayonets, the Texans clubbed their rifles and rushed in fury upon thefoe, still rending the air with their wild war-cry of "Remember theAlamo!" The Mexicans were utterly unprepared for this furioushand-to-hand assault, and quickly broke before the violent onset. 

On all sides they gave way. On the left the Texans penetrated thewoodland; the Mexicans fled. On the right their cavalry charged that ofSanta Anna, which quickly broke and sought safety in flight. In thecentre they stormed the breastworks, took the enemy's artillery anddrove them back in dismay. In fifteen minutes after the charge theMexicans were in panic flight, the Texans in mad pursuit. Scarce an hourhad passed since the patriots left their works, and the battle was won. 

Such was the consternation of the Mexicans, so sudden and utter theirrout, that their cannon were left loaded and their movables untouched. Those who were asleep awoke only in time to flee; those who were cookingtheir dinner left it uneaten; those who were playing their favorite gameof monte left it unfinished. The pursuit was kept up till nightfall, bywhich time the bulk of the Mexican army were prisoners of war. Thevictory had been won almost without loss. Only seven of the Texans werekilled and twenty-three wounded. The Mexican loss was six hundred andthirty, while seven hundred and thirty were made prisoners. 

But the man they most wanted was still at large. Santa Anna was notamong the captives. On the morning of the following day, April 22, theTexan cavalry, scouring the country for prisoners, with a sharp eye openfor the hated leader of the foe, saw a Mexican whom they loudly bade tosurrender. At their demand he fell on the grass and threw a blanket overhis head. They had to call on him several times to rise before he slowlydragged himself to his feet. Then he went up to Sylvester, the leader ofthe party, and kissed his hand, asking if he was General Houston. 

The man was evidently half beside himself with fright. He was only aprivate soldier, he declared; but when his captors pointed to the finestuds in the bosom of his shirt he burst into tears and declared that hewas an aide to Santa Anna. The truth came out as the captors brought himback to camp, passing the prisoners, many of whom cried out, "ElPresidente. " It was evidently Santa Anna himself. The President ofMexico was a prisoner and Texas was free! When the trembling captive wasbrought before Houston, he said, "General, you can afford to begenerous, --you have conquered the Napoleon of the West. " Had Houstondone full justice to this Napoleon of the West he would have hung him onthe spot. As it was, his captors proved generous and his life wasspared. 

The victory of San Jacinto struck the fetters from the hands of Texas. No further attempt was made to conquer it, and General Houston becamethe hero and the first president of the new republic. When Texas wasmade a part of the United States, Houston was one of its first senators, and in later years he served as governor of the State. His splendidvictory had made him its favorite son. 

_CAPTAIN ROBERT E. LEE AND THE LAVA-BEDS. _

The Mexican War, brief as was its period of operations in the field, wasmarked by many deeds of daring, and also was the scene of the firstservice in the field of various officers who afterward became prominentin the Civil War. Chief among these were the two great leaders on theopposite sides, General Lee and General Grant. Lee's services in thecampaign which Scott conducted against the city of Mexico wereespecially brilliant, and are likely to be less familiar to the readerthan any incident drawn from his well-known record in the Civil War. Themost striking among them was his midnight crossing of the lava-fieldsbefore Contreras. 

On the 19th of August, 1847, Scott's army lay in and around SanAugustin, a place situated on a branch of the main road running southfrom the city of Mexico. This road divided into two at Churubusco, theother branch running near Contreras. Between these two roads and a ridgeof hills south of San Augustin extended a triangular region known as thePedregal, and about as ugly a place to cross as any ground could wellbe. 

It was made up of a vast spread of volcanic rock and scoriæ, rent andbroken into a thousand forms, and with sharp ridges and deep fissures, making it very difficult for foot-soldiers to get over, and quiteimpassable for cavalry or artillery. It was like a sea of hardened lava, with no signs of vegetation except a few clumps of bushes and dwarftrees that found footing in the rocks. The only road across it was adifficult, crooked, and barely passable pathway, little better than amule track, leading from San Augustin to the main road from the city ofMexico. 

On the plateau beyond this sterile region the Mexicans had gathered inforce. Just beyond it General Valencia lay intrenched, with his finedivision of about six thousand men and twenty-four guns, commanding theapproach from San Augustin. A mile or more north of Contreras layGeneral Santa Anna, his force holding the main city road. 

Such was the situation of the respective armies at the date given, withthe Pedregal separating them. Captain Lee, who had already doneexcellent engineering service at Vera Cruz and Cerro Gordo, assisted byLieutenants Beauregard and Tower of the engineers, had carefullyreconnoitred the position of the enemy, and on the morning of the 19ththe advance from San Augustin began, Captain Lee accompanying the troopsin their arduous passage across the Pedregal. One of those present thusdescribes the exploit:

"Late in the morning of the 19th the brigade of which my regiment was apart (Riley's) was sent out from San Augustin in the direction ofContreras. We soon struck a region over which it was said no horsescould go, and men only with difficulty. No road was available; myregiment was in advance, my company leading, and its point of directionwas a church-spire at or near Contreras. Taking the lead, we soon struckthe Pedregal, a field of volcanic rock like boiling scoria suddenlysolidified, pathless, precipitous, and generally compelling rapid gaitin order to spring from point to point of rock, on which two feet couldnot rest and which cut through our shoes. A fall on this sharp materialwould have seriously cut and injured one, whilst the effort to climbsome of it cut the hands. 

"Just before reaching the main road from Contreras to the city of Mexicowe reached a watery ravine, the sides of which were nearlyperpendicular, up which I had to be pushed and then to pull others. Onlooking back over this bed of lava or scoria, I saw the troops, muchscattered, picking their way very slowly; while of my own company, someeighty or ninety strong, only five men crossed with me or during sometwenty minutes after. 

"With these five I examined the country beyond, and struck upon thesmall guard of a paymaster's park, which, from the character of thecountry over which we had passed, was deemed perfectly safe fromcapture. My men gained a paymaster's chest well filled with bags ofsilver dollars, and the firing and fuss we made both frightened theguard with the belief that the infernals were upon them and made ourmen hasten to our support. 

"Before sundown all of Riley's, and I believe of Cadwallader's, Smith's, and Pierce's brigades, were over, and by nine o' clock a council of war, presided over by Persifer Smith and counselled by Captain R. E. Lee, washeld at the church. I have always understood that what was devised andfinally determined upon was suggested by Captain Lee; at all events, thecouncil was closed by his saying that he desired to return to GeneralScott with the decision of General Smith, and that, as it was late, thedecision must be given as soon as possible, since General Scott wishedhim to return in time to give directions for co-operation. 

"During the council, and for hours after, the rain fell in torrents, whilst the darkness was so intense that one could move only by groping. To illustrate: my company again led the way to gain the Mexican rear, and when, after two hours of motion, light broke sufficiently to enableus to see a companion a few feet off, we had not moved four hundredyards, and the only persons present were half a dozen officers and oneguide. "

Much is said of the perils of war and of the courage necessary to facethem. But who would not rather face a firing-line of infantry in fulldaylight than to venture alone in such a dark and stormy night as wasthis upon such a perilous and threatening region as the Pedregal, inwhich a misstep in the darkness would surely lead to wounds and perhapsto death. Its crossing, under such conditions, might well be deemedimpossible, had not Captain Lee succeeded, borne up by his strong senseof duty, in this daring enterprise. 

General Scott, who was very anxious to know the position of the advanceforces, had sent out seven officers about sundown with instructions tothe troops at Contreras, but they had all returned, completely baffledby the insuperable difficulties of the way. Not a man except Robert E. Lee had the daring, skill, and persistence to cross this region ofvolcanic knife-blades on that night of rain and gloom. 

The writer above quoted from says, "History gives him the credit ofhaving succeeded, but it has always seemed incredible to me when Irecollect the distance amid darkness and storm, and the dangers of thePedregal which he must have traversed. Scarcely a step could be takenwithout danger of death; but that to him, a true soldier, was thewilling risk of duty in a good cause. "

General Scott adds his testimony to this by saying, after mentioning thefailure of the officers sent out by him, "But the gallant andindefatigable Captain Lee, of the engineers, who has been constantlywith the operating forces, is just in from Shields, Smith, Cadwallader, etc. , to report, and to request that a powerful diversion be madeagainst the centre of the intrenched camp to-morrow morning. "

Scott subsequently gave the following testimony to the same effect:"Captain Lee, engineers, came to me from the hamlet (Contreras) with amessage from Brigadier-General Smith, about midnight. He, having passedover the difficult ground by daylight, found it just possible to returnto San Augustin in the dark, --_the greatest feat of physical and moralcourage performed by any individual, in my knowledge, pending thecampaign_. "

This praise is certainly not misapplied, when we remember that Leepassed over miles of the kind of ground above described in a pitch-darknight, without light or companion, with no guide but the wind as itdrove the pelting rain against his face, or an occasional flash oflightning, and with the danger of falling into the hands of Valencia orSanta Anna if he should happen to stray to the right or the left. It isdoubtful if another man in the army would have succeeded in such anenterprise, if any one had had the courage to attempt it. It took a manof the caliber which Robert E. Lee afterward proved himself to possessto perform such a deed of daring. 

We may briefly describe Lee's connection with the subsequent events. Hebore an important part in the operations against the Mexicans, guidingthe troops when they set out about three o'clock in the morning on atedious march through darkness, rain, and mud; an elevation in the rearof the enemy's forces being gained about sunrise. An assault was at oncemade on the surprised Mexicans, their intrenchments were stormed, and inseventeen minutes after the charge began they were in full flight andthe American flag was floating proudly above their works. 

Thus ended the battle of Contreras. Captain Lee was next sent toreconnoitre the well fortified stronghold of Coyacan, while anotherreconnaissance was made towards Churubusco, one mile distant. After Leehad completed his task, he was ordered to conduct Pierce's brigade by athird road, to a point from which an attack could be made on the enemy'sright and rear. Shields was ordered to follow Pierce closely and takecommand of the left wing. 

The battle soon raged violently along the whole line. Shields, in hisexposed position, was hard pressed and in danger of being crushed byoverwhelming forces. In this alarming situation Captain Lee made his wayto General Scott to report the impending disaster, and led back twotroops of the Second Dragoons and the Rifles to the support of the leftwing. The affair ended in the repulse of the enemy and victory for theAmericans. Soon after a third victory was won at the Molino del Rey. 

Scott's army was now rapidly approaching the city of Mexico, the centralpoint of all these operations, and the engineer officers, Captain Lee, Lieutenant Beauregard, and others, were kept busy in reconnaissances, which they performed with daring and success. Then quickly followed theboldest and most spectacular exploit of the war, the brilliant charge upthe steep heights of Chapultepec, a hill that bristled with walls, mines, and batteries, and whose summit was crowned with a powerfulfortress, swarming with confident defenders. 

Up this hill went the American infantry like so many panthers, boundingimpetuously onward in face of the hot fire from the Mexican works, scaling crags, clambering up declivities, all with a fiery valor andintrepidity which nothing could check, until the heights were carried, the works scaled, and the enemy put to flight. In this charge, one ofthe most brilliant in American history, Captain Lee took an active part, till he was disabled by a severe wound and loss of blood. General Scottagain speaks of his service here in complimentary words, saying that hewas "as distinguished for felicitous execution as for science anddaring, " and also stating that "Captain Lee, so constantlydistinguished, also bore important orders from me, until he fainted froma wound and the loss of two nights' sleep at the batteries. "

Scott, indeed, had an exalted opinion of Lee's remarkable militaryabilities, and Hon. Reverdy Johnson has stated that he "had heardGeneral Scott more than once say that his success in Mexico was largelydue to the skill, valor, and undaunted energy of Robert E. Lee. " Inlater years Scott said, "Lee is the greatest military genius inAmerica. "

Lee's services were not left without reward. He received successivelythe brevet rank of major, lieutenant-colonel, and colonel, the latterfor his service at Chapultepec. The victory at this point was theculminating event of the war. Shortly afterward the Mexican capital wasoccupied, and the Mexicans soon gave up the contest as hopeless. A newCortez was in their streets, who was not to be got rid of except at aheavy sacrifice. 

As to how Lee occupied himself during this period, we may quote ananecdote coming from General Magruder. 

"After the fall of Mexico, when the American army was enjoying the easeand relaxation which it had bought by toil and blood, a brilliantassembly of officers sat over their wine discussing the operations ofthe capture and indulging hopes of a speedy return to the United States. 

"One among them rose to propose the health of the Captain of Engineerswho had found a way for the army into the city, and then it was remarkedthat Captain Lee was absent. Magruder was despatched to bring him to thehall, and, departing on his mission, at last found the object of hissearch in a remote room of the palace, busy on a map. Magruder accostedhim and reproached him for his absence. The earnest worker looked upfrom his labors with the calm, mild gaze which was so characteristic ofthe man, and, pointing to his instruments, shook his head. 

"'But, ' said Magruder, in his impetuous way, 'this is mere drudgery. Make somebody else do it, and come with me. '

"'No, ' was the reply; 'no, I am but doing my duty. '"

This is very significant of Lee's subsequent character, in which thedemands of duty always outweighed any thought of pleasure or relaxation, and in which his remarkable ability as an engineer was of inestimableadvantage to the cause he served. 

_A CHRISTMAS DAY ON THE PLANTATION. _

Shall we not break for a time from our record of special tales and letfall on our pages a bit of winter sunshine from the South, the story ofa Christmas festival in the land of the rose and magnolia? It is a storywhich has been repeated so many successive seasons in the life of theSouth that it has grown to be a part of its being, the joyous festalperiod in the workday world of the year. The writer once spent Christmasas a guest in the manor house of old Major Delmar, "away down South, "and feels like halting to tell the tale of genial merrymaking andfree-hearted enjoyment on that gladsome occasion. 

On the plantation, Christmas is the beginning and end of the calendar. Time is measured by the days "before Christmas" or the days "sinceChristmas. " There are other seasons of holiday and enjoyment, alike forblack and white, but "The Holidays" has one meaning only: it is themerry Christmas time, when the work of the year past is ended and thatof the year to come not begun, and when pleasure and jollity rulesupreme. 

A hearty, whole-souled, genial host and kindly, considerate master wasthe old major, in the days of his reign, "before the war, " andfortunate was he who received an invitation to spend the midwinterfestival season under his hospitable roof. It was always crowded withwell-chosen guests. The members of the family came in from near and far;friends were invited in wholesome numbers; an atmosphere of good-willspread all around, from master and mistress downward through the youngfry and to the dusky-faced house-servants and plantation hands;everybody, great and small, old and young, black and white, was glad atheart when the merry Christmas time came round. 

[Illustration: COTTON FIELD ON SOUTHERN PLANTATION. ]

As the Yule-tide season approached the work of the plantation wasrounded up and everything got ready for the festival. The corn was allin the cribs; the hog-killing was at an end, the meat salted or cured, the lard tried out, the sausage-meat made. The mince-meat was ready forthe Christmas pies, the turkeys were fattened, especially the majestic"old gobbler, " whose generous weight was to grace the great dish on themanor-house table. The presents were all ready, --new shoes, winterclothes, and other useful gifts for the slaves; less useful but moreartistic and ornamental remembrances for the household and guests. Allthis took no small thought and labor, but it was a labor of love, forwas it not all meant to make the coming holiday a merry, happy time?

I well remember the jolly stir of it all, for my visit spread over thedays of busy preparation. In the woods the axe was busy at work, cutting through the tough hickory trunks. Other wood might serve forother seasons, but nothing but good old hickory would do to kindle theChristmas fires. All day long the laden wagons creaked and rumbled alongthe roads, bringing in the solid logs, and in the wood-yards the shiningaxes rang, making the white chips fly, as the great logs were choppeddown to the requisite length. 

From the distant station came the groaning ox-cart, laden with boxesfrom the far-off city, boxes full of mysterious wares, the black driverseeking to look as if curiosity did not rend his soul while he stolidlydrove with his precious goods to the store-room. Here they were unloadedwith mirthful haste, jokes passing among the laughing workers as to what"massa" or "mistis" was going to give them out of those heavy crates. The opening of these boxes added fuel to the growing excitement, as thewell-wrapped-up parcels were taken out, in some cases openly, in otherswith a mysterious secrecy that doubled the curiosity and added to theseason's charm. 

There was another feature of the work of preparation in which all wereglad to take part, the gathering of the evergreens--red-berried holly, mistletoe with its glistening pearls, ground-pine, moss, and other woodtreasures--for the decoration of parlor, hall, and dining-room, and, above all, of the old village church, a gleeful labor in which the wholeneighborhood took part, and helpers came from miles away. Young men andblooming maidens alike joined in, some as artists in decoration, othersas busy workers, and all as merry aids. 

Days rolled on while all this was being done, --the wood chopped andheaped away in the wood-sheds and under the back portico; the church andhouse made as green as spring-tide with their abundant decorations, tastefully arranged in wreaths and folds and circles, with the greatgreen "Merrie Christmas" welcoming all comers from over the high parlormantel. All was finished in ample time before the day of Christmas Evearrived, though there were dozens of final touches still to be made, last happy thoughts that had to be worked out in green, red, or white. 

On that same day came the finish which all had wished but scarcely daredhoped for, a fleecy fall of snow that drifted in feathery particles downthrough the still atmosphere, and covered the ground with an inch-deepcarpet of white. I well remember old Delmar, with his wrinkled, kindlyface and abundant white hair, and his "By Jove, isn't that just thething!" as he stood on the porch and looked with boyish glee at thefast-falling flakes. And I remember as well his sweet-faced wife, small, delicate, yet still pretty in her old age, and placidly sharing hisenjoyment of the spectacle, rare enough in that climate, in spite of thetradition that a freeze and a snow-fall always came with the Christmasseason. 

Christmas Eve! That was a time indeed! Parlor and hall, porch andwood-shed, all were well enough in their way, but out in the kitchenbusy things were going on without which the whole festival would havebeen sadly incomplete. The stoves were heaped with hickory and glowingwith ardent heat, their ovens crammed full of toothsome preparations, while about the tables and shelves clustered the mistress of the placeand her regiment of special assistants, many of them famous for theirskill in some branch of culinary art, their glistening faces and shiningteeth testifying to their pride in their one special talent. 

Pies and puddings, cakes and tarts, everything that could be got readyin advance, were being drawn from the ovens and heaped on awaitingshelves, while a dozen hands busied themselves in getting ready theturkey and game and the other essentials of the coming feast that had towait till the next day for their turn at the heated ovens. 

As the day moved on the excitement grew. Visitors were expected: theboys from college with their invited chums; sons and grandsons, auntsand cousins, and invited guests, from near and far. And not only these, but "hired out" servants from neighboring towns, whose terms were fixedfrom New Year to Christmas, so that they could spend the holiday week athome, made their appearance and were greeted with as much hilariouswelcome in the cabins as were the white guests in the mansion. In themanor house itself they were welcomed like home-coming members of thefamily, as, already wearing their presents of new winter clothes, theycame to pay their "respecs to massa and mistis. "

As the day went on the carriages were sent to the railroad station forthe expected visitors, old and young, and a growing impatience testifiedto the warmth of welcome with which their arrival would be greeted. Theyare late--to be late seems a fixed feature of the situation, especiallywhen the roads are heavy with unwonted snow. Night has fallen, the starsare out in the skies, before the listening ears on the porch first catchthe distant creak of wheels and axles. The glow of the wood-fires on thehearths and of candles on table and mantel is shining out far over thesnow when at length the carriages come in sight, laden outside and inwith trunks and passengers, whose cheery voices and gay calls havealready heralded their approach. 

What a time there is when they arrive, the boys and girls tumbling andleaping out and flying up the steps, to be met with warm embraces orgenial welcomes; the elders coming more sedately, to be received withearnest handclasps and cordial greetings, Never was there a happier manthan the old major when he saw his house filled with guests, and badethe strangers welcome with a dignified, but earnest, courtesy. But whenthe younger comers stormed him, with their glad shouts of "uncle" or"grandpa" or other titles of relationship, and their jovial echo of"Merry Christmas, " the warm-hearted old fellow seemed fairly transformedinto a boy again. Guest as I was, I felt quite taken off my feet by theflood of greetings, and was swept into the general overflow of highspirits and joyful welcomes. 

The frosty poll of the major and the silvery hair of his good wife weresignificant of venerable age, but there were younger people in thefamily, and with them a fair sprinkling of children. Of these thediminutive stockings were duly hung in a row over the big fireplace, waiting for the expected coming of Santa Claus, while their late wearerswere soon huddled in bed, though with little hope of sleep in theexcitement and sense of enchantment that surrounded them. Theirdisappearance made little void in the crowd that filled the parlor, agay and merry throng, full of the spirit of fun and hearty enjoyment, and thoroughly genuine in their mirth, not a grain of airiness orostentation marring their pleasure, though in its way it was as refinedas in more showy circles. 

Morning dawned, --Christmas morning. Little chance was there forsleepy-heads to indulge themselves that sunny Yule-tide morn. The stirbegan long before the late sun had risen, that of the children first ofall; stealing about like tiny, white-clad spectres, with bulgingstockings clasped tightly in their arms; craftily opening bedroom doorsand shouting "Christmas gift!" at drowsy slumberers, then scurrying awayand seeking the hearth-side, whose embers yielded light enough for afirst glance at their treasures. 

Soon the opening and closing of doors was heard, and one by one theolder inmates of the mansion appeared, with warm "Merry Christmas"greetings, and all so merry-hearted that the breakfast-table was aconstant round of quips and jokes, and of stories of pranks played inthe night by representatives of Santa Claus. Where all are bent onhaving a good time, it is wonderful how little will serve to kindlelaughter and set joy afloat. 

Aside from the church-going, --with the hymns and anthems sung in concertand the reading of the service, --the special event of the day was thedistribution of the mysterious contents of the great boxes which hadcome days before. There were presents for every one; nobody, guest ormember of the family, was forgotten, and whether costly, or homely butuseful, the gifts seemed to give equal joy. It was the season ofgood-will, in which the kindly thought, not the costliness of the gift, was alone considered, and when all tokens of kindliness were accepted inthe same spirit of gratefulness and enjoyment. 

A special feature of a Christmas on the plantation, especially "beforethe war, " was the row of shining, happy black faces that swarmed up tothe great house in the morning light, with their mellow outcry of "MerryChristmas, massa!" "Merry Christmas, missis!" and their hopeful looksand eyes bulging with expectation. Joyful was the time when their giftswere handed out, --useful articles of clothing, household goods, and thelike, all gladly and hilariously received, with a joy as childlike asthat of the little ones with their stockings. Off they tripped merrilythrough the snow with their burdens, laughing and joking, to theircabins, where dinners awaited them which were humble copies of thatpreparing for the guests at the master's table. Turkey was not wanting, varied here and there by that rare dish of raccoon or "'possum" whichthe Southern darky so highly enjoys. 

The great event of the mansion house was the dinner. All day till thedinner-hour the kitchen was full of busy preparation for this crowningculmination of the festival. Cooks there were in plenty, and the din oftheir busy labor and the perfume of their culinary triumphs seemed topervade the whole house. 

When the dinner was served, it was a sight to behold. The solid oldmahogany table groaned with the weight laid upon it. In the place ofhonor was the big gobbler, brown as a berry and done to a turn. Forthose who preferred other meat there was a huge round of venison and anartistically ornamented ham. These formed the backbone of the feast, butwith and around them were every vegetable and delicacy that a Southerngarden could provide, and tasteful dishes which it took all theingenuity of a trained mistress of the kitchen to prepare. This was theseason to test the genius of the dusky Southern cooks, and they hadexhausted their art and skill for that day's feast. On the amplesideboard, shining with glass, was the abundant dessert, the cakes, pies, puddings, and other aids to a failing appetite that had beendevised the day before. 

That this dinner was done honor to need scarcely be said. The journeythe day before and the outdoor exercise in that day's frosty air hadgiven every one an excellent appetite, and the appearance of the tableat the end of the feast showed that the skill of Aunt Dinah and herassistants had been amply appreciated. After dinner came apple-toddy andeggnog, and the great ovation to the Christmas good cheer was at an end. 

But the festival was not over. Games and dances followed the feast. Thepiano-top was lifted, and light fingers rattled out lively music towhich a hundred flying feet quickly responded. Country-dances they were, the lancers and quadrilles. Round dances were still looked upon in thatrural locality as an improper innovation. The good old major, in hisfrock coat and high collar, started the ball, seizing the prettiest girlby the hand and leading her to the head of the room, while the othersquickly followed in pairs. Thus, with the touch of nimble fingers on theivory keys and the tap of feet and the whirl of skirts over the unwaxedfloor, mingled with jest and mirth, the evening passed gayly on, theold-fashioned Virginia reel closing the ball and bringing the day's busyreign of festivity to an end. 

But the whites did not have all the fun to themselves. The coloredfolks had their parties and festivities as well, their mistressessuperintending the suppers and decorating the tables with their ownhands, while ladies and gentlemen from the mansion came to look on, anattention which was considered a compliment by the ebon guests. And theChristmas season rarely passed without a colored wedding, the holidaysbeing specially chosen for this interesting ceremony. 

The dining-room or the hall of the mansion often served for thisoccasion, the master joining in matrimony the happy couple; or a coloredpreacher might perform the ceremony in the quarters. But in either casethe event went gayly off, the family attending to get what amusementthey could out of the occasion, while the mistress arranged thetrousseau for the dusky bride. 

But it is with the one Christmas only that we are here concerned, andthat ended as happily and merrily as it had begun, midnight passingbefore the festivities came to an end. How many happy dreams followedthe day of joy and how many nightmares the heavy feast is more than weare prepared to put on record. 

_CAPTAIN GORDON AND THE RACCOON ROUGHS. _

The outbreak of the Civil War, the most momentous conflict of recenttimes, was marked by a wave of fervent enthusiasm in the States of theSouth which swept with the swiftness of a prairie fire over the land. Pouring in multitudes into the centres of enlistment, thousands and tensof thousands of stalwart men offered their services in defence of theircause, gathering into companies and regiments far more rapidly than theycould be absorbed. This state of affairs, indeed, existed in the Northas well as in the South, but it is with the extraordinary fervor ofpatriotism in the latter that we are here concerned, and especially withthe very interesting experience of General John B. Gordon, as related byhim in his "Reminiscences of the Civil War. "

When the war began Gordon, as he tells us, was practically living inthree States. His house was in Alabama, his post-office in Tennessee, and he was engaged in coal-mining enterprises in the mountains ofGeorgia, the locality being where these three States meet in a point. Nosooner was the coming conflict in the air than the stalwart mountaineersof the mining district became wild with eagerness to fight for theConfederacy, and Gordon, in whom the war spirit burned as hotly as inany of them, needed but a word to gather about him a company ofvolunteers. They unanimously elected him their captain, and organizedthemselves at once into a cavalry company, most of them, like so many ofthe sons of the South, much preferring to travel on horseback than onfoot. 

As yet the war was only a probability, and no volunteers had been calledfor. But with the ardor that had brought them together, Gordon's companyhastened to offer their services, only to be met with the laconic anddisappointing reply, "No cavalry now needed. "

What was to be done? They did not relish the idea of giving up theirhorses, yet they wanted to fight still more than to ride, and the fearcame upon them that if they waited till cavalry was needed they might bequite lost sight of in that mountain corner and the war end before theycould take a hand in it. This notion of a quick end to the war wascommon enough at that early day, very few foreseeing the vastness of thecoming conflict; and, dreading that they might be left out in the cold, the ardent mountaineers took a vote on the question, "Shall we dismountand go as infantry?" This motion was carried with a shout of approval, and away went the stalwart recruits without arms, without uniform, without military training, with little beyond the thirst to fight, thecaptain knowing hardly more of military tactics than his men. They hadcourage and enthusiasm, and felt that all things besides would come tothem. 

As for arms suitable for modern warfare, the South at that time wassadly lacking in them. Men looked up their old double-barrelledshot-guns and squirrel rifles, and Governor Brown, of Georgia, set menat work making what were called "Joe Brown's pikes, " being a sort ofsteel-pointed lances or bayonets on poles, like those used by pikemen inmediæval warfare. In modern war they were about as useful asknitting-needles would have been. Governor Brown knew this well enough, but the volunteers were coming in such numbers and were so eager tofight that the pikes were made more to satisfy them than with hope oftheir being of any service in actual war. 

Gordon's company was among the earliest of these volunteers. Reluctantlyleaving their horses, and not waiting for orders, they bade a quickadieu to all they had held dear and set off cheerily for Milledgeville, then the capital of Georgia. They were destined to a sad disappointment. On reaching Atlanta they were met by a telegram from the governor, whohad been advised of their coming, telling them to go back home and waituntil advised that they were wanted. 

This was like a shower of cold water poured on the ardor of thevolunteers. Go home? After they had cut loose from their homes andstarted for the war? They would do nothing of the kind; they were onfoot to fight and would not consent to be turned back by Governor Brownor any one else. The captain felt very much like his men. He too was aneager Confederate patriot, but his position was one demanding obedienceto the constituted authorities, and by dint of much persuasion and acautious exercise of his new authority he induced his men to board thetrain heading back for their homes. 

But the repressed anger of the rebellious mountaineers broke forth againwhen the engine-bell rang and the whistle gave its shrill startingsignal. Some of the men rushed forward and tore out the coupling of theforemost car, and the engine was left in condition to make its journeyalone. While the trainmen looked on in astonishment the mountaineerssprang from the train, gathered round their captain, and told him thatthey had made up their minds on the matter and were not going back. Theyhad enlisted for the war and intended to go to it; if Governor Brownwould not take them, some other governor would. 

There was nothing left for the young captain but to lead hisundisciplined and rebellious company through Atlanta in search of asuitable camping-place. Their disregard of discipline did not troublehim greatly, for in his heart he sympathized with them, and he knew wellthat in their rude earnestness was the stuff of which good soldiers aremade. 

Gordon gives an interesting and amusing description of the appearancehis men made and the interest they excited in Atlanta's streets. Thesewere filled with citizens, who looked upon the motley crew with afeeling in which approval was tempered by mirth. The spectacle of themarch--or rather the straggle--of the mountaineers was one not soon tobe forgotten. Utterly untrained in marching, they walked at will, no twokeeping step, while no two were dressed alike. There were almost as manydifferent hues and cuts in their raiment as there were men in theirranks. The nearest approach to a uniform was in their rough fur capsmade of raccoon skins, and with the streaked and bushy tail of theraccoon hanging down behind. 

The amusement of the people was mingled with curiosity. "Are you thecaptain of this company?" some of them asked Gordon, who was ratherproud of his men and saw nothing of the grotesque in their appearance. 

"I am, sir, " he replied, in a satisfied tone. 

"What company is it, captain?"

As yet the company had no name other than one which he had chosen asfine sounding and suitable, but had not yet mentioned to the men. 

"This company is the Mountain Rifles, " said the captain, proudly. 

His pride was destined to a fall. From a tall mountaineer in the rankscame, in words not intended for his ears, but plainly audible, thedisconcerting words, --

"Mountain hell! We are no Mountain Rifles. We are the Raccoon Roughs. "

And Raccoon Roughs they continued through all the war, Gordon'sfine-spun name being never heard of again. The feeble remnant of thewar-scarred company which was mustered out at Appomattox was stillknown as Raccoon Roughs. 

Who would have them, since Governor Brown would not, was now thequestion. Telegrams sped out right and left to governors of otherStates, begging a chance for the upland patriots. An answer came atlength from Governor Moore, of Alabama, who consented to incorporate theRaccoon Roughs and their captain in one of the new regiments he wasorganizing. Gordon gladly read the telegram to his eager company, andfrom their hundred throats came the first example of the "rebel yell" hehad ever heard, --a wild and thrilling roar that was to form theinspiration to many a mad charge in later years. 

No time was lost by the gallant fellows in setting out on their journeyto Montgomery. As they went on they found the whole country in a blazeof enthusiasm. No one who saw the scene would have doubted for a momentthat the South was an ardent unit in support of its cause. By day thetroop trains were wildly cheered as they passed; at night bonfiresblazed on the hills and torchlight processions paraded the streets ofthe towns. As no cannon were at hand to salute the incoming volunteers, blacksmith anvils took their place, ringing with the blows of hammersswung by muscular arms. Every station was a throng of welcoming people, filling the air with shouts and the lively sound of fife and drum, andbearing banners of all sizes and shapes, on which Southern independencewas proclaimed and the last dollar and man pledged to the cause. Thewomen were out as enthusiastically as the men; staid matrons and ardentmaids springing upon the cars, pinning blue cockades on the lapels ofthe new soldiers' coats, and singing the war-songs already in vogue, thefavorite "Dixie" and the "Bonnie Blue Flag, " in whose chorus the harshvoices of the Raccoon Boughs mingled with the musical tones of theirfair admirers. 

Montgomery was at length reached to find it thronged with shoutingvolunteers, every man of them burning with enthusiasm. Mingled with themwere visiting statesmen and patriotic citizens, for that city was thecradle of the new-born Confederacy and the centre of Southernenthusiasm. Every heart was full of hope, every face marked with energy, a prayer for the success of the cause on every lip. Never had morefervent and universal enthusiasm been seen. On the hills and around thecapital cannon boomed welcome to the inflowing volunteers, wagonsrumbled by carrying arms and ammunition to the camps, on every streetmarched untrained but courageous recruits. As for the Raccoon Roughs, Governor Moore kept his word, assigning them to a place in the SixthAlabama Regiment, of which Captain Gordon, unexpectedly and against hiswishes, was unanimously elected major. 

Such were the scenes which the coming war excited in the far South, suchthe fervid enthusiasm with which the coming conflict for Southernindependence was hailed. So vast was the number of volunteers, incompanies and in regiments, each eager to be accepted, that the Hon. Leroy P. Walker, the first Secretary of War of the Confederacy, wasfairly overwhelmed by the flood of applicants that poured in on him dayand night. Their captains and colonels waylaid him on the streets tourge the immediate acceptance of their services, and he was obliged toseek his office by roundabout ways to avoid the flood of importunities. It is said that before the Confederate government left Montgomery forRichmond, about three hundred and sixty thousand volunteers, very manyof them from the best element of the Southern population, had offered todevote their lives and fortunes to their country's cause. 

Many striking examples of this outburst of enthusiasm and patrioticdevotion might be adduced, but we must content ourselves with one, citedas an instance in point by General Gordon. This was the case of Mr. W. C. Heyward, of South Carolina, a West Point graduate and a man offortune and position. The Confederate government was no sooner organizedthan Mr. Heyward sought Montgomery, tendering his services and those ofa full regiment enlisted by him for the war. Such was the pressure uponthe authorities, and so far beyond the power of absorption at that timethe offers of volunteers, that Mr. Heyward sought long in vain for aninterview with the Secretary of War. When this was at last obtained hefound the ranks so filled that it was impossible to accept hisregiment. Returning home in deep disappointment, but with his patriotismunquenched, this wealthy and trained soldier joined the Home Guards anddied in the war as a private in the ranks. 

Such was the unanimity with which the sons of the South, hosts of themarmed with no better weapons than old-fashioned flint and steel muskets, double-barrelled shot-guns, and long-barrelled squirrel rifles, rushedto the defence of their States, with a spontaneous and burningenthusiasm that has never been surpassed. The impulse of self-defencewas uppermost in their hearts. It was not the question of thepreservation of slavery that sustained them in the terrible conflict forfour years of desolating war. It was far more that of the sovereignty ofthe States. The South maintained that the Union formed under theConstitution was one of consent and not of force; that each Stateretained the right to resume its independence on sufficient cause, andthat the Constitution gave no warrant for the attempt to invade andcoerce a sovereign State. It was for this, not to preserve slavery, thatthe people sprang as one man to arms and fought as men had rarely foughtbefore. 

_STUART'S FAMOUS CHAMBERSBURG RAID. _

Of all the minor operations of the Civil War, the one most marked atonce by daring and success was the pioneer invasion of the NorthernStates, the notable Chambersburg raid of the most famous cavalry leaderof the Confederacy, General J. E. B. Stuart. This story of bold ventureand phenomenal good fortune, though often told, is worth giving again inits interesting details. 

The interim after the battle of Sharpsburg or Antietam was one of restand recuperation in both the armies engaged. During this period thecavalry of Lee's army was encamped in the vicinity of Charlestown, someten miles to the southward of Harper's Ferry. Stuart's head-quarterswere located under the splendid oaks which graced the lawn of "TheBower, " whose proprietor, Mr. A. S. Dandridge, entertained the officerswith an open-hearted and genial hospitality which made their stay one ofgreat pleasure and enjoyment. 

There were warriors in plenty who would not have been hasty to break upthat agreeable period of rest and social intercourse, but Stuart was notof that class. He felt that he must be up and doing, demonstrating thatthe Army of Northern Virginia had not gone to sleep; and the early daysof October, 1862, saw a stir about head-quarters which indicated thatsomething out of the ordinary was afoot. During the evening of the 8ththe officers were engaged in a lively social intercourse with the ladiesof "The Bower, " the entertainment ending in a serenade in which thebanjo and fiddle took chief part. Warlike affairs seemed absent from thethoughts of all, with the exception that the general devoted more timethan usual to his papers. 

[Illustration: COLONIAL MANSION. ]

With the morning of the 9th a new state of affairs came on. The roadssuddenly appeared full of well-mounted and well-appointed troopers, riding northward with jingling reins and genial calls, while the cheerysound of the bugle rang through the fresh morning air. There wereeighteen hundred of these horsemen, selected from the best mounted andmost trustworthy men in the corps, for they were chosen for anexpedition that would need all their resources of alertness, activity, and self-control, no less a one than an invasion of Pennsylvania, aperilous enterprise in which the least error might expose them all tocapture or death. 

On reaching the appointed place of rendezvous, at Darksville, Stuartissued an address in which he advised his followers that the enterprisein which they were to engage demanded the greatest coolness, decision, and courage, implicit obedience to orders, and the strictest order andsobriety. While the full purpose of the expedition must still be keptsecret, he said, it was one in which success would reflect the highestcredit on their arms. The seizure of private property in the State ofMaryland was strictly prohibited, and it was to be done in Pennsylvaniaonly under orders from the brigade commanders, individual plunderingbeing strongly forbidden. 

These preliminaries adjusted, the march northward began, the commandbeing divided into three detachments of six hundred men each, under thedirection of General Wade Hampton, Colonel W. H. F. Lee, and Colonel W. E. Jones. A battery of four guns accompanied the expedition. It was withhigh expectations that the men rode forward, the secrecy of theenterprise giving it an added zest. Most of them had followed Stuart indaring rides in the earlier months of that year, and all were ready tofollow wherever he chose to lead. 

Darkness had fallen when they reached Hedgesville, the point on thePotomac where it was designed to cross. Here they bivouacked for thenight, a select party of some thirty men being sent across the river, their purpose being to capture the Federal picket on the Maryland side. In this they failed, but the picket was cut off from its reserve, sothat the fugitives were not able to report the attack. Day had notdawned when all the men were in their saddles, and as soon as word ofthe result of the night's enterprise was received, the foremost troopsplunged into the river and the crossing began. It was completed withoutdifficulty, and Colonel Butler, leading the advance, rode brisklyforward to the National turnpike which joins Hancock and Hagerstown. 

Along this road, a few hours before, General Cox's division of Federalinfantry had passed, Butler coming so close to his rear that thestragglers were captured. But a heavy fog covered the valley and hid allthings from sight, so that Cox continued his march in ignorance that astrong body of Confederate cavalry was so close upon his track. OnFairview Heights, near the road, was a Federal signal-station, which asquad was sent to capture. The two officers in charge of it escaped, buttwo privates and all its equipments were taken. 

Yet, despite all efforts at secrecy, the march had not gone on unseen. Acitizen had observed the crossing and reported it to Captain Logan ofthe Twelfth Illinois Cavalry, and the news spread with much rapidity. But there was no strong force of cavalry available to check themovement, and Stuart's braves passed steadily forward unopposed. Theirline of march was remote from telegraph or railroad, and thePennsylvania farmers, who did not dream of the war invading theirfields, were stricken with consternation when Stuart's bold riderscrossed Mason and Dixon's line and appeared on their soil. 

It was hard for them to believe it. One old gentleman, whose sorrel marewas taken from his cart, protested bitterly, saying that orders fromWashington had forbidden the impressment of horses, and threatening thevengeance of the government on the supposed Federal raiders. A shoemerchant at Mercersburg completely equipped Butler's advance guard withfoot-wear, and was sadly surprised when paid with a receipt calling onthe Federal government to pay for damages. While nothing was disturbedin Maryland, horses were diligently seized in Pennsylvania, the countryon both sides of the line of march being swept clean of its farmanimals. Ladies on the road, however, were not molested, and the menwere strictly prohibited from seizing private property--even from takingprovisions for themselves. 

Chambersburg, the goal of the expedition, was reached on the evening ofthe 10th, after a day's hard ride. So rapid and well conducted had beenthe journey that as yet scarce one enemy had been seen; and when thetown was called on to surrender within thirty minutes, under penalty ofa bombardment, resistance was out of the question; there was no onecapable of resisting, and the troops were immediately marched into thetown, where they were drawn up in the public square. 

The bank was the first place visited. Colonel Butler, under orders fromhis chief, entered the building and demanded its funds. But the cashierassured him that it was empty of money, all its cash having been sentaway that morning, and convinced him of this by opening the safe anddrawers for his inspection. Telegraphic warning had evidently reachedthe town. Butler had acted with such courtesy that the cashier nowcalled the ladies of his family, and bade them to prepare food for themen who had made the search. That the captors of the town behaved withlike courtesy throughout we have the evidence of Colonel A. K. McClure, subsequently editor of the Philadelphia _Times_, who then dwelt in thenear vicinity of Chambersburg. Though a United States officer andsubject to arrest or parole, and though he had good opportunity toescape, he resolved to stay and share the fate of his fellow-townsmen. We quote from his description of the incidents of that night. Afterspeaking of an interview he had--as one of the committee of threecitizens to surrender the town--with General Hampton, and the courteousmanner of the latter, he proceeds:

"With sixty acres of corn in shock, and three barns full of grain, excellent farm and saddle horses, and a number of best blooded cattle, the question of property was worthy of a thought. I resolved to stay, asI felt so bound by the terms of surrender, and take my chances ofdiscovery and parole. . . . 

"I started in advance of them for my house, but not in time to save thehorses. I confidently expected to be overrun by them, and to find theplace one scene of desolation in the morning. I resolved, however, thatthings should be done soberly, if possible, and I had just time todestroy all the liquors about the house. As their pickets were allaround me I could not get it off. I finished just in time, for they weresoon upon me in force, and every horse in the barn, ten in all, waspromptly equipped and mounted by a rebel cavalryman. They passed ontowards Shippensburg, leaving a picket force on the road. 

"In an hour they returned with all the horses they could find, anddismounted to spend the night on the turnpike in front of my door. Itwas now midnight, and I sat on the porch observing their movements. Theyhad my best corn-field beside them and their horses fared well. In alittle while one entered the yard, came up to me, and after a profoundbow, politely asked for a few coals to start a fire. I supplied him, andinformed him as blandly as possible where he would find woodconveniently, as I had dim visions of camp-fires made of my palings. Iwas thanked in return, and the mild-mannered villain proceeded at onceto strip the fence and kindle fires. Soon after a squad came and askedpermission to get some water. I piloted them to the pump, and againreceived a profusion of thanks. . . . 

"About one o'clock, half a dozen officers came to the door and asked tohave some coffee made for them, offering to pay liberally for it inConfederate scrip. After concluding a treaty with them on behalf of thecolored servants, coffee was promised them, and they then asked for alittle bread with it. They were wet and shivering, and, seeing a bright, open wood-fire in the library, they asked permission to enter and warmthemselves until their coffee should be ready, assuring me that underno circumstances should anything in the house be disturbed by their men. I had no alternative but to accept them as my guests until it mightplease them to depart, and I did so with as good grace as possible. 

"Once seated round the fire all reserve seemed to be forgotten on theirpart, and they opened a general conversation on politics, the war, thedifferent battles, the merits of generals of both armies. They spokewith entire freedom upon every subject but their movement intoChambersburg. Most of them were men of more than ordinary intelligenceand culture, and their demeanor was in all respects eminently courteous. I took a cup of coffee with them, and have never seen anything morekeenly relished. They said that they had not tasted coffee for weeksbefore, and that then they had paid from six to ten dollars per poundfor it. When they were through they asked whether there was any coffeeleft, and finding that there was some, they proposed to bring some moreofficers and a few privates, who were prostrated by exposure, to getwhat was left. They were, of course, as welcome as those present, and onthey came in squads of five or more until every grain of brown coffeewas exhausted. Then they asked for tea, and that was served to sometwenty more. 

"In the mean time a subordinate officer had begged of me a little breadfor himself and a few men, and he was supplied in the kitchen. He wasfollowed by others in turn, until nearly a hundred had been suppliedwith something to eat or drink. All, however, politely asked permissionto enter the house, and behaved with entire propriety. They did not makea single rude or profane remark, even to the servants. In the mean timethe officers who had first entered the house had filled their pipes fromthe box of Killikinick on the mantel--after being assured that smokingwas not offensive--and we had another hour of free talk on mattersgenerally. . . . 

"At four o'clock in the morning the welcome blast of the bugle washeard, and they rose hurriedly to depart. Thanking me for thehospitality they had received, we parted, mutually expressing the hopethat should we ever meet again, it would be under more pleasantcircumstances. In a few minutes they were mounted and moved intoChambersburg. About seven o'clock I went into town. . . . 

"General Stuart sat on his horse in the centre of the town, surroundedby his staff, and his command was coming in from the country in largesquads, leading their old horses and riding the new ones they had foundin the stables hereabouts. General Stuart is of medium size, has a keeneye, and wears immense sandy whiskers and moustache. His demeanor to ourpeople was that of a humane soldier. In several instances his mencommenced to take private property from stores, but they were arrestedby General Stuart's provost-guard. In a single instance only, that Iheard of, did they enter a store by intimidating the proprietor. All ofour stores and shops were closed, and with a very few exceptions werenot disturbed. "

This was certainly not like the usual behavior of soldiers on foreignsoil, and the incident at once illustrates the strict control whichGeneral Stuart held over his men and the character of the menthemselves, largely recruited, as they were, from the higher class ofSouthern society. Though Colonel McClure evidently felt that the lion'sclaws lay concealed under the silken glove, he certainly saw no evidenceof it in the manners of his unbidden guests. 

Return was now the vital question before General Stuart and his band. Every hour of delay added to the dangers surrounding them. Troops werehastily marching to cut off their retreat; cavalry was gathering tointercept them; scouts were watching every road and every movement. Worst of all was the rain, which had grown heavy in the night and wasnow falling steadily, with a threat of swelling the Potomac and makingits fords impassable. The ride northward had been like a holidayexcursion; what would the ride southward prove?

With the dawn of day the head of the column set out on the road towardsGettysburg, no damage being done in the town except to railroad propertyand the ordnance store-house, which contained a large quantity ofammunition and other army supplies. This was set on fire, and the soundof the explosion, after the flames reached the powder, came to the earsof the vanguard when already at a considerable distance on the returnroute. 

At Cashtown the line turned from the road to Gettysburg and movedsouthward, horses being still diligently collected till the Marylandline was crossed, when all gathering of spoil ceased. Emmittsburg wasreached about sunset, the hungry cavaliers there receiving a warmwelcome and being supplied with food as bountifully as the means of theinhabitants permitted. 

Meanwhile, the Federal military authorities were busy with efforts tocut off the ventursome band. The difficulty was to know at what point onthe Potomac a crossing would be sought, and the troops were held insuspense until Stuart's movements should unmask his purpose. GeneralPleasanton and his cavalry force were kept in uncertain movement, nowriding to Hagerstown, then, on false information, going four mileswestward, then, halted by fresh orders, turning east and riding toMechanicstown, twenty miles from Hagerstown. They had marched fiftymiles that day, eight of which were wasted, and when they halted, Stuartwas passing within four miles of them without their knowledge. Midnightbrought Pleasanton word of Stuart's movements, and the weary men andhorses were put on the road again, reaching the mouth of the Monocacyabout eight o'clock the next morning. But most of his command haddropped behind in that exhausting ride of seventy-eight miles withintwenty-eight hours, only some four hundred of them being still with him. 

While the Federals were thus making every effort to cut off the boldraiders and to garrison the fords through a long stretch of the Potomac, Stuart was riding south from Emmittsburg, after a brief stop at thatplace, seeking to convey the impression by his movements that heproposed to try some of the upper and nearer fords. His real purpose wasto seek a crossing lower down, so near to the main body of the Federalsthat they would not look for him there. Yet the dangers were growingwith every moment, three brigades of infantry guarded the lower fords, Pleasanton was approaching the Monocacy, and it looked as if the boldraider was in a net from which there could be no escape. 

Stuart reached Hyattstown at daylight on the 12th, having marchedsixty-five miles in twenty hours. The abundance of captured horsesenabled him to make rapid changes for the guns and caissons and tocontinue the march without delay. Two miles from Hyattstown the roadentered a large piece of woodland, which served to conceal his movementsfrom observation from any signal-tower. Here a disused road was found, and, turning abruptly to the west, a rapid ride was made under cover. 

Soon after the open country was reached again a Federal squadron wasencountered; but it was dispersed by a charge, and from this point arapid ride was made for White's Ford, the nearest available crossing. All now seemed to depend upon whether this ford was occupied in forceby the enemy. As Colonel Lee approached it this question was settled;what appeared a large body of Federal infantry was in possession, postedon a steep bluff quite close to the ford. It seemed impossible todislodge it, but foes were closing up rapidly from behind, and if allwas not to be lost something must be done, and done at once. 

To attack the men on the bluff seemed hopeless, and before doing so Leetried the effect of putting a bold face on the matter. He sent amessenger under a flag of truce, telling the Federal commander thatStuart's whole force was before him, that resistance was useless, andcalling on him to surrender. If this was not done in fifteen minutes acharge in force would be made. The fifteen minutes passed. No sign ofyielding appeared. Lee, with less than a forlorn hope of success, openedfire with his guns and ordered his men to advance. He listened for theroar of the Federal guns in reply, when a wild shout rang along theline. 

"They are retreating! Hurrah! they are retreating!"

Such was indeed the case. The infantry on the bluff were marching awaywith flying flags and beating drums, abandoning their strong positionwithout a shot. A loud Confederate cheer followed them as they marched. No shot was fired to hinder them. Their movement was the salvation ofStuart's corps, for it left an open passage to the ford, and safety wasnow assured. 

But there was no time to lose. Pleasanton and his men might be on themat any minute. Other forces of the enemy were rapidly closing in. Hastewas the key to success. One piece of artillery was hurried over the drybed of the canal, across the river ford, and up the Virginia bluff, where it was posted to command the passage. Another gun was placed so asto sweep the approaches on the Maryland side, and soon a stream ofhorsemen were rapidly riding through the shallow water to Virginia andsafety. With them went a long train of horses captured from Pennsylvaniafarms. 

Up came the others and took rapidly to the water, Pelham meanwhilefacing Pleasanton with a single gun, which was served with all possiblerapidity. But there was one serious complication. Butler with therear-guard had not yet arrived, and no one knew just where he was. Stuart, in deep concern for his safety, sent courier after courier tohasten his steps, but no tidings came back. 

"I fear it is all up with Butler, " he said, despondently. "I cannot getword of him, and the enemy is fast closing in on his path. "

"Let me try to reach him, " said Captain Blackford, to whom the generalhad spoken. 

After a moment's hesitation Stuart replied, --

"All right! If we don't meet again, good-by, old fellow! You run adesperate chance of being raked in. "

Away went Blackford at full speed, passing the lagging couriers one byone, and at length reaching Butler, whom he found halted and facing theenemy, in complete ignorance of what was going on at the front. He hadhis own and a North Carolina regiment and one gun. 

"We are crossing the ford, and Stuart orders you up at once, " shoutedBlackford. "Withdraw at a gallop or you will be cut off. "

"Very good, " said Butler, coolly. "But how about that gun? I fear thehorses can't get it off in time. "

"Let the gun go. Save yourself and your men. "

Butler did not see it in that light. Whip and spur were applied to theweary artillery horses, and away they went down the road, whirling thegun behind them, and followed at a gallop by Butler and his men. As theyturned towards the ford they were saluted by the fire of a Federalbattery. Further on the distant fire of infantry from down the riverreached them with spent balls. Ten minutes later and the rear-guardwould have been lost. As it was, a wild dash was made across the streamand soon the last man stood on Virginia soil. The expedition was at anend, and the gallant band was on its native heath once more. 

Thus ended Stuart's famous two days' ride. The first crossing of thePotomac had been on the morning of the 10th. The final crossing was onthe morning of the 12th. Within twenty-seven hours he had ridden eightymiles, from Chambersburg to White's Ford, with his artillery andcaptured horses, and had crossed the Potomac under the eyes of muchsuperior numbers, his only losses being the wounding of one man and thecapture of two who had dropped out of the line of march--a remarkablerecord of success, considering the great peril of the expedition. 

The gains of the enterprise were about twelve hundred horses, but thegreat strain of the ride forced the men to abandon many of their own. Stuart lost two of his most valued animals--Suffolk and LadyMargrave--through the carelessness of his servant Bob, who, overcome bytoo free indulgence in ardent spirits, fell out of the line to take anap, and ended by finding himself and his horses in hostile hands. 

The value of the property destroyed at Chambersburg, public andrailroad, was estimated at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars; a fewhundred sick and wounded soldiers were paroled, and about thirtyofficials and prominent citizens were brought off as prisoners, to beheld as hostages for imprisoned citizens of the Confederacy. 

On the whole, it was eminently a dare-devil enterprise of the type ofthe knightly forays of old, its results far less in importance than therisk of loss to the Confederacy had that fine body of cavalry beencaptured. Yet it was of the kind of ventures calculated to improve themorale of an army, and inspire its men to similar deeds of daring andsuccess. Doubtless it gave the cue to Morgan's later and much lessfortunate invasion of the North. 

_FORREST'S CHASE OF THE RAIDERS. _

Foremost in dash and daring among the cavalry leaders of the Confederacywas Lieutenant-General Nathan B. Forrest, a hero in the saddle, some ofwhose exploits were like the marvels of romance. There is one of hisdoings in particular which General Lord Wolseley says "reads like aromance. " This was his relentless pursuit and final capture of theexpedition under Colonel Abel D. Streight, one of the most brilliantdeeds in the cavalry history of the war. Accepting Wolseley's opinion, we give the story of this exploit. 

In General Rosecrans's campaign against General Bragg, it was a matterof importance to him to cut the railroad lines and destroy bridges, arsenals, etc. , in Bragg's rear. He wished particularly to cut therailroads leading from Chattanooga to Atlanta and Nashville, and thusprevent the free movement of troops. The celebrated Andrews expeditionof scouts, described in a previous volume of this series, failed in aneffort to do this work. Colonel Streight, a stalwart, daring cavalryleader, made a second effort to accomplish it, and would doubtless havesucceeded but for the bulldog-like persistence with which "that devil, Forrest" clung to his heels. 

Colonel Streight's expedition was made up of four regiments of mountedinfantry and two companies of cavalry, about two thousand men in all. Rome, Georgia, an important point on the railroad from Chattanooga toAtlanta, was its objective point. The route to be traversed included abarren, mountainous track of country, chosen from the fact that itssparse population was largely composed of Union sympathizers. But theroad was likely to be so steep and rocky, and forage so scarce, thatmules were chosen instead of horses for the mounts, on account of theirbeing more surefooted and needing less food. 

The expedition was sent by steamboat from Nashville, Tennessee, toEastport, Alabama, which place was reached on the 19th of April, 1863. This movement was conducted with all possible secrecy, and was masked byan expedition under General Dodge, at the head of a force of some tenthousand men. The unfortunate feature about the affair was the mules. Ontheir arrival at Eastport these animals, glad to get on solid landagain, set up a bray that trumpeted the story of their arrival for milesaround, and warned the cavalry of General Rodney, who had beenskirmishing with General Dodge, that new foes were in the field. 

When night fell some of Rodney's cavalry lads crept into the corral, andthere, with yells and hoots and firing of guns and pistols, theystampeded nearly four hundred of the mules. This caused a serious delay, only two hundred of the mules being found after two day's search, whilemore time was lost in getting others. From Eastport the expeditionproceeded to Tuscumbia, General Rodney stubbornly resisting the advance. Here a careful inspection was made, and all unfit men left out, so thatabout fifteen hundred picked men, splendidly armed and equipped, constituted the final raiding force. 

But the delay gave time for the news that some mysterious movement wasafoot to spread far and wide, and Forrest led his corps of hard ridersat top-speed from Tennessee to the aid of Rodney in checking it. On the27th he was in Dodge's front, helping Rodney to give him what trouble hecould, though obliged to fall back before his much greater force. 

Streight was already on his way. He had set out at midnight of the 26th, in pouring rain and over muddy roads. At sunset of the next day he wasthirty-eight miles from the starting-point. On the afternoon of the 28ththe village of Moulton was reached without trace of an enemy in front orrear. The affair began to look promising. Next morning the mule brigaderesumed its march, heading east towards Blountsville. 

Not until the evening of the 28th did Forrest hear of this movement. Then word was brought him that a large body of Union troops had passedMount Hope, riding eastward towards Moulton. The quick-witted leaderguessed in a moment what all this meant, and with his native energyprepared for a sharp pursuit. In all haste he picked out a suitableforce, had several days' rations cooked for the men and corn gatheredfor the horses, and shortly after midnight was on the road, leaving whatmen he could spare to keep Dodge busy and prevent pursuit. His commandwas twelve hundred strong, the most of them veterans whose metal hadbeen tried on many a hard-fought field, and who were ready to followtheir daring leader to the death, reckless and hardy "irregulars, "brought up from childhood to the use of horses and arms, the sturdy sonsof the back country. 

Streight was now in the ugly mountain country through which his routelay, and was advancing up Sand Mountain by a narrow, stony, windingroad. He had two days the start of his pursuer, but with such headlongspeed did Forrest ride, that at dawn on the 30th, when the Federals werewell up the mountain, the boom of a cannon gave them the startlingnotice that an enemy was in pursuit. Forrest had pushed onward at hisusual killing pace, barely drawing rein until Streight's camp-fires camein sight, when his men lay down by their horses for a night's rest. 

Captain William Forrest, a brother of the general, had been sent aheadto reconnoitre, and in the early morning was advised of the nearpresence of the enemy by as awful a noise as human ears could well bear, the concentrated breakfast bray of fifteen hundred hungry mules. 

The cannon-shot which had warned Colonel Streight that an enemy wasnear, was followed by the yell of Captain Forrest's wild troopers, asthey charged hotly up the road. Their recklessness was to be severelypunished, for as they came headlong onward a volley was poured into themfrom a ridge beside the road. Their shrewd opponent had formed anambuscade, into which they blindly rode, with the result that CaptainForrest fell from his horse with a crushed thigh-bone, and many of hismen and horses were killed and wounded before they could get out of thetrap into which they had ridden. 

The attack was followed up by Forrest's whole force. Edmonson's men, dismounted, advanced within a hundred yards of the Federal line, Roddyand Julian rode recklessly forward in advance, and Forrest's escort andscouts occupied the left. It was a precipitous movement, whichencountered a sudden and sharp reverse, nearly the whole line being metwith a murderous fire and driven back. Then the Federals sprang forwardin a fierce charge, driving the Confederates back in confusion overtheir own guns, two of which were captured with their caissons andammunition. 

The loss of his guns threw Forrest into a violent rage, in which he madethe air blue with his forcible opinions. Those guns must be taken back, he swore, at the risk of all their lives. He bade every man to dismountand tie their horses to saplings--there were to be no horse-holders inthis emergency. Onward swept the avengers, but to their surprise andchagrin only a small rear-guard was found, who fled on their mules aftera few shots. Streight, with the captured guns, was well on the roadagain, and Forrest's men were obliged to go back, untie their horses, and get in marching order, losing nearly an hour of precious time. 

From this period onward the chase was largely a running fight. Forrest'sorders to his men were to "shoot at everything blue and keep up thescare. " Streight's purpose was to make all haste forward to Rome, outriding his pursuers, and do what damage he could. But he had to dealwith the "Rough Riders" of the Confederate army, men sure to keep on histrack day and night, and give him no rest while a man on mule-backremained. 

Forrest's persistence was soon shown. His advance troopers came up withthe enemy again at Hog's-back ridge an hour before dark and at oncecharged right and left. They had their own guns to face, Streightkeeping up a hot fire with the captured pieces till the ammunition wasexhausted, when, being short of horses, he spiked and abandoned theguns. 

The fight thus begun was kept up vigorously till ten o'clock at night, and was as gallant and stubbornly contested as any of the minorengagements of the war, the echoes of that mountain desert repeatingmost unwonted sounds. General Forrest seemed everywhere, and sofearlessly exposed himself that one horse was killed and two werewounded under him, though he escaped unhurt. In the end Colonel Streightwas taught that he could not drive off his persistent foe, and took tothe road again, but twice more during the night he was attacked, eachtime repelling his foes by an ambuscade. 

About ten o'clock the next morning Blountsville was reached. TheFederals were now clear of the mountains and in an open and fertilecountry where food and horses were to be had. Both were needed; many ofthe mules had given out, leaving their riders on foot, while mules andmen alike were short of food. It was the first of May, and the villagewas well filled with country people, who saw with dismay the Yankeetroopers riding in and confiscating all the horses on which they couldlay hands. 

Streight now decided to get on with pack-mules, and the wagons werebunched and set on fire, the command leaving them burning as it movedon. They did not burn long. Forrest's advance came on with a yell, sweptthe Federal rear-guard from the village, and made all haste toextinguish the flames, the wagons furnishing them a rich and much-neededsupply. Few horses or mules, however, were to be had, as Streight's menhad swept the country as far as they could reach on both sides of theroad. 

On went the raiders and on came their pursuers, heading east, keeping inclose touch, and skirmishing briskly as they went, for ten miles more. This brought them to a branch of the Black Warrior River. The fordreached by the Federals was rocky, and they had their foe close in therear, but by an active use of skirmishers and of his two howitzersStraight managed to get his command across and to hold the ford until abrief rest was taken. 

The Yankee troopers were not long on the road again before Forrest wasover the stream, and the hot chase was on once more. The night thatfollowed was the fourth night of the chase, which had been kept up withonly brief snatches of rest and with an almost incessant contest. On themorning of the 2d the skirmishing briskly began again, Forrest with anadvance troop attacking the Federal rear-guard, and fighting almostwithout intermission during the fifteen miles ride to Black Creek. 

Here was a deep and sluggish stream walled in with very high banks. Itwas spanned at the road by a wooden bridge, over which Colonel Streightrushed his force at top speed, and at once set the bridge on fire, facing about with his howitzers to check pursuit. One man was left onthe wrong side of the stream, and was captured by Forrest himself as hedashed up to the blazing bridge at the head of his men. 

Colonel Streight might now reasonably believe that he had baffled hisfoe for a time, and might safely take the repose so greatly needed. Thestream was said to be too deep to ford, and the nearest bridge, twomiles away, was a mere wreck, impassable for horses. Forrest was in aquandary as to how he should get over that sluggish but deep ditch, andstood looking at it in dismay. He was obliged to wait in any event, forhis artillery and the bulk of his command had been far outridden. Inthis dilemma the problem was solved for him by a country girl who livednear by, Emma Sanson by name. Near the burning bridge was a littleone-storied, four-roomed house, in which dwelt the widow Sanson and hertwo daughters. She had two sons in the service, and the three women, like many in similar circumstances in the Confederacy, were living asbest they could. 

The girl Emma watched with deep interest the rapid flight, the burningof the bridge, and the headlong pursuit of the Confederate troop. SeeingForrest looking with a dubious countenance at the dark stream, she cameup and accosted him. 

"You are after those Yankees?" she asked. 

"I should think so, " said Forrest, "and would give my best hat to getacross this ugly ditch. "

"I think you can do it, " she replied. 

"Aha! my good girl. That is news worth more than my old hat. How is itto be done? Let me know at once. "

"I know a place near our farm where I have often seen cows wade acrosswhen the water was low. If you will lend me a horse to put my saddle on, I will show you the place. "

"There's no time for that; get up behind me, " cried Forrest. 

In a second's time the alert girl was on the horse behind him. As theywere about to ride off her mother came out and asked, in a frightenedtone, where she was going. Forrest explained and promised to bring herback safe, and in a moment more was off. The ride was not a long one, the place sought being soon reached. Here the general and his guidequickly dismounted, the girl leading down a ravine to the water's edge, where Forrest examined the depth and satisfied himself that the placemight prove fordable. 

Mounting again, they rode back, now under fire, for a sharp engagementwas going on across the creek between the Confederates and the Federalrear-guard. Forrest was profuse in his thanks as he left thequick-witted girl at her home. He gave her as reward a horse and alsowrote her a note of thanks, and asked her to send him a lock of herhair, which he would be glad to have and cherish in memory of herservice to the cause. 

The Lost Ford, as the place has since been called, proved available, thehorses finding foothold, while the ammunition was taken from thecaissons and carried across by the horsemen. This done, the guns andempty caissons were pulled across by ropes, and soon all was inreadiness to take up the chase again. 

Colonel Streight had reached Gadsden, four miles away, when to hissurprise and dismay he heard once more the shouts of his indefatigablefoemen as they rode up at full speed. It seemed as if nothing could stopthe sleuth-hounds on his track. For the succeeding fifteen miles therewas a continual skirmish, and, when Streight halted to rest, the fightbecame so sharp that his weary men were forced to take to the roadagain. Rest was not for them, with Forrest in their rear. Streight heretried for the last time his plan of ambuscading his enemy, but thewide-awake Forrest was not to be taken in as before, and by a flankmovement compelled the weary Federals to resume their march. 

All that night they rode despondently on, crossing the Chattanooga Riveron a bridge which they burned behind them, and by sunrise reaching CedarBluff, twenty-eight miles from Gadsden. At nine o'clock they stopped tofeed, and the worn-out men had no sooner touched the ground than theywere dead asleep. Forrest had taken the opportunity to give his men anight's rest, detaching two hundred of them to follow the Federals and"devil them all night. " Streight had also detached two hundred of hisbest-mounted men, bidding them to march to Rome and hold the bridge atthat place. But Forrest had shrewdly sent a fast rider to the sameplace, and when Russell got up he found the bridge strongly held and hisenterprise hopeless. 

When May 3 dawned the hot chase was near its end. Forrest had given hismen ten hours' sleep while Streight's worn-out men were ploddingdesperately on. This all-night's ride was a fatal error for theFederals, and was a main cause of their final defeat. The short distancethey had made was covered by Forrest's men, fresh from their night'ssleep, in a few hours, and at half-past nine, while the Federals were atbreakfast, the old teasing rattle of small-arms called them into lineagain. About the same time word came from Russell that he could nottake the bridge at Rome, and news was received that a flanking movementof Confederates had cut in between Rome and the Yankee troopers. 

The affair now looked utterly desperate, but the brave Streight ralliedhis men on a ridge in a field and skirmishing began. So utterlyexhausted, however, were the Federals that many of them went to sleep asthey lay in line of battle behind the ridge while looking along theirgun barrels with finger on trigger. 

The game was fairly up. Forrest sent in a flag of truce, with a demandfor surrender. Streight asked for an interview, which was readilygranted. 

"What terms do you offer?" asked Streight. 

"Immediate surrender. Your men to be treated as prisoners of war, officers to retain their side-arms and personal property. "

During the conversation Streight asked, "How many men have you?"

"Enough here to run over you, and a column of fresh troops between youand Rome. "

In reality Forrest had only five hundred men left him, the remainderhaving been dropped from point to point as their horses gave out and nonew mounts were to be had. But the five hundred made noise enough for abrigade, it being Forrest's purpose to conceal the weakness of hisforce. 

As they talked a section of the artillery of the pursuers came in sightwithin a short range. Colonel Streight objected to this, and Forrestgave orders that the guns must come no nearer. But the artillerymenmoved around a neighboring hill as if putting several small batteriesinto position. 

"Have you many guns, general?" asked Streight. 

"Enough to blow you all to pieces before an hour, " was the grandiloquentreply. 

Colonel Streight looked doubtfully at the situation, not knowing howmuch to believe of what he saw and heard. After some more words hesaid, --

"I cannot decide without consulting my officers. "

"As you please, " said Forrest, with a sublime air of indifference. "Itwill soon be over, one way or the other. "

Streight had not all the fight taken out of him yet, but he found allhis officers in favor of a surrender and felt obliged to consent. Themen accordingly were bidden to stack their arms and were marched backinto a field, Forrest managing as soon as he conveniently could to gethis men between them and their guns. The officers were started withoutdelay and under a strong escort for Rome, twenty miles away. On theirroute thither they met Captain Russell returning and told him of whathad taken place. With tears in his eyes he surrendered his two hundredmen. 

Thus ended one of the most striking achievements of the Civil War. Forrest's relentless and indefatigable pursuit, his prompt overcoming ofthe difficulties of the way, and his final capture of Streight's menwith less than half their force, have been commended by military criticsas his most brilliant achievement and one of the most remarkableexploits in the annals of warfare. 

The outcome of Colonel Streight's raid to the South was singularly likethat of General Morgan's famous raid to the North. Morgan's capture, imprisonment, and escape were paralleled in Streight's career. Sent toRichmond, and immured in Libby Prison, he and four of his officers tookpart in the memorable escape by a tunnel route in February, 1864. In hisreport, published after his escape, he blames his defeat largely on thepoor mules, and claims that Forrest's force outnumbered him three toone. It is not unlikely that he believed this, judging from theincessant trouble they had given him, but the truth seems establishedthat at the surrender Forrest had less than half the available force ofhis foe. 

_EXPLOITS OF A BLOCKADE-RUNNER. _

There were no more daring adventures and hair-breadth escapes during theCivil War than those encountered in running the blockade, carryingsadly-needed supplies into the ports of the Confederacy, and returningwith cargoes of cotton and other valuable products of the South. Therewas money in it for the successful, much money; but, on the other hand, there was danger of loss of vessel and cargo, long imprisonment, perhapsdeath, and only men of unusual boldness and dare-devil recklessness wereready to engage in it. The stories told by blockade-runners are full ofinstances of desperate risk and thrilling adventure. As an example oftheir more ordinary experience, we shall give, from Thomas E. Taylor's"Running the Blockade, " the interesting account of his first run toWilmington harbor. 

This town, it must be premised, lies some sixteen miles up Cape FearRiver, at whose principal entrance the formidable Fort Fisher obligedthe blockading fleet to lie out of the range of its guns, and thus gavesome opportunity for alert blockade-runners to slip in. Yet this was farfrom safe and easy. Each entrance to the river was surrounded by anin-shore squadron of Federal vessels, anchored in close order duringthe day, and at night weighing anchor and patrolling from shore toshore. Farther out was a second cordon of cruisers, similarly alert, andbeyond these again gunboats were stationed at intervals, far enough outto sight by daybreak any vessels that crossed Wilmington bar at hightide in the night. Then, again, there were free cruisers patrolling theGulf Stream, so that to enter the river unseen was about as difficult asany naval operation could well be. With this preliminary statement ofthe situation, let us permit Mr. Taylor to tell his story. 

"The 'Banshee's' engines proved so unsatisfactory that, under ordinaryconditions, nine or ten knots was all we could get out of her; she wastherefore not permitted to run any avoidable risks, and to this Iattribute her extraordinary success where better boats failed. As longas daylight lasted a man was never out of the cross-trees, and themoment a sail was seen the 'Banshee's' stern was turned to it till itwas dropped below the horizon. The look-out man, to quicken his eyes, had a dollar for every sail he sighted, and if it were seen from thedeck first he was fined five. This may appear excessive, but theimportance in blockade-running of seeing before you are seen is toogreat for any chance to be neglected; and it must be remembered that thepay of ordinary seamen for each round trip in and out was from £50 to£60. 

"Following these tactics, we crept noiselessly along the shores of theBahamas, invisible in the darkness, and ran on unmolested for the firsttwo days out [from the port of Nassau], though our course was ofteninterfered with by the necessity of avoiding hostile vessels; then camethe anxious moment on the third, when, her position having been taken atnoon to see if she was near enough to run under the guns of Fort Fisherbefore the following daybreak, it was found there was just time, butnone to spare for accidents or delay. Still, the danger of lying outanother day so close to the blockaded port was very great, and ratherthan risk it we resolved to keep straight on our course and chance beingovertaken by daylight before we were under the fort. 

"Now the real excitement began, and nothing I have ever experienced cancompare with it. Hunting, pig-sticking, steeple-chasing, big-gameshooting, polo--I have done a little of each--all have their thrillingmoments, but none can approach 'running a blockade;' and perhaps myreaders may sympathize with my enthusiasm when they consider the dangersto be encountered, after three days of constant anxiety and littlesleep, in threading our way through a swarm of blockaders, and theaccuracy required to hit in the nick of time the mouth of a river onlyhalf a mile wide, without lights and with a coast-line so low andfeatureless that, as a rule, the first intimation we had of its nearnesswas the dim white line of the surf. 

"There were, of course, many different plans of getting in, but at thistime the favorite dodge was to run up some fifteen or twenty miles tothe north of Cape Fear, so as to round the northernmost of theblockaders, instead of dashing right through the inner squadron; then tocreep down close to the surf till the river was reached; and this wasthe course the 'Banshee' intended to adopt. 

"We steamed cautiously on until nightfall; the night proved dark, butdangerously clear and calm. No lights were allowed--not even a cigar;the engine-room hatch-ways were covered with tarpaulins, at the risk ofsuffocating the unfortunate engineers and stokers in the almostinsufferable atmosphere below. But it was absolutely imperative that nota glimmer of light should appear. Even the binnacle was covered, and thesteersman had to see as much of the compass as he could through aconical aperture carried almost up to his eyes. 

"With everything thus in readiness, we steamed on in silence, except forthe stroke of the engines and the beat of the paddle-floats, which inthe calm of the night seemed distressingly loud; all hands were on deck, crouching behind the bulwarks, and we on the bridge, namely, thecaptain, the pilot, and I, were straining our eyes into the darkness. Presently Burroughs made an uneasy movement. 

"'Better get a cast of the lead, captain, ' I heard him whisper. 

"A muttered order down the engine-room tube was Steele's reply, and the'Banshee' slowed, and then stopped. It was an anxious moment while a dimfigure stole into the fore-chains, --for there is always a danger ofsteam blowing off when engines are unexpectedly stopped, and that wouldhave been enough to betray our presence for miles around. In a minute ortwo came back the report, 'Sixteen fathoms--sandy bottom with blackspecks. '

"'We are not in as far as I thought, captain, ' said Burroughs, 'and weare too far to the southward. Port two points and go a little faster. '

"As he explained, we must be well to the north of the speckled bottombefore it was safe to head for the shore, and away we went again. Inabout an hour Burroughs quietly asked for another sounding. Again shewas gently stopped, and this time he was satisfied. 

"'Starboard, and go ahead easy, ' was the order now, and as we crept innot a sound was heard but that of the regular beat of the paddle-floats, still dangerously loud in spite of our snail's pace. Suddenly Burroughsgripped my arm, --

"'There's one of them, Mr. Taylor, ' he whispered, 'on the starboardbow. '

"In vain I strained my eyes to where he pointed, not a thing could Isee; but presently I heard Steele say, beneath his breath, 'All right, Burroughs, I see her. Starboard a little, steady!' was the order passedaft. 

"A moment afterward I could make out a long, low black object on ourstarboard side, lying perfectly still. Would she see us? that was thequestion; but no, though we passed within a hundred yards of her we werenot discovered, and I breathed again. Not very long after we haddropped her, Burroughs whispered, --

"'Steamer on the port bow. '

"And another cruiser was made out close to us. 

"'Hard-a-port, ' said Steele, and round she swung, bringing our friendupon our beam. Still unobserved, we crept quietly on, when all at once athird cruiser shaped itself out of the gloom right ahead, and steamingslowly across our bows. 

"'Stop her, ' said Steele, in a moment; and as we lay like dead our enemywent on and disappeared in the darkness. It was clear there was a falsereckoning somewhere, and that instead of rounding the head of theblockading line we were passing through the very centre of it. However, Burroughs was now of opinion that we must be inside the squadron, andadvocated making the land. So 'slow ahead' we went again, until thelow-lying coast and the surf-line became dimly visible. Still we couldnot tell where we were, and, as time was getting on alarmingly neardawn, the only thing to do was to creep down along the surf as close inand as fast as we dared. It was a great relief when we suddenly heardBurroughs say, 'It's all right. I see the Big Hill. '

"The 'Big Hill' was a hillock about as high as a full-grown oak, but itwas the most prominent feature for miles on that dreary coast, andserved to tell us exactly how far we were from Fort Fisher. Andfortunate it was for us we were so near. Daylight was already breaking, and before we were opposite the fort we could make out six or sevengunboats, which steamed rapidly towards us and angrily opened fire. Their shots were soon dropping close around us, an unpleasant sensationwhen you know you have several tons of gunpowder under your feet. 

"To make matters worse, the North Breaker Shoal now compelled us to hauloff the shore and steam farther out. It began to look ugly for us, whenall at once there was a flash from the shore followed by a sound thatcame like music to our ears, --that of a shell whirring over our heads. It was Fort Fisher, wide awake and warning the gunboats to keep theirdistance. With a parting broadside they steamed sulkily out of range, and in half an hour we were safely over the bar. 

"A boat put off from the fort, and then--well, it was the days ofchampagne cocktails, not whiskeys and sodas, and one did not run ablockade every day. For my part I was mightily proud of my first attemptand my baptism of fire. Blockade-running seemed the pleasantest and mostexhilarating of pastimes. I did not know then what a very seriousbusiness it could be. "

On the return trip the "Banshee" was ballasted with tobacco and ladenwith cotton, three tiers of it even on deck. She ran impudently straightthrough the centre of the cordon, close by the flag-ship, and gotthrough the second cordon in safety, though chased by a gunboat. WhenNassau was reached and profits summed up, they proved to amount to £50a ton on the war material carried in, while the tobacco carried outnetted £70 a ton for a hundred tons and the cotton £50 a bale for fivehundred bales. It may be seen that successful blockade-running paid. 

It may be of interest to our readers to give some other adventures inwhich the "Banshee" figured. On one of her trips, when she was creepingdown the land about twelve miles above Fort Fisher, a cruiser appearedmoving along about two hundred yards from shore. An effort was made topass her inside, hoping to be hidden by the dark background of the land. But there were eyes open on the cruiser, and there came the ominoushail, "Stop that steamer or I will sink you!"

"We haven't time to stop, " growled Steele, and shouted down theengine-room tube to "pile on the coals. " There was nothing now but torun and hope for luck. The cruiser at once opened fire, and as the"Banshee" began to draw ahead a shot carried away her foremast and ashell exploded in her bunkers. Grape and canister followed, the crewescaping death by flinging themselves flat on the deck. Even thesteersman, stricken by panic, did the same, and the boat swerved roundand headed straight for the surf. A close shave it was as Taylor rushedaft, clutched the wheel, and just in time got her head off the land. Before they got in two other cruisers brought them under fire, but theyran under Fort Fisher in safety. 

One more adventure of the "Banshee" and we shall close. It was on hersixth trip out. She had got safely through the fleet and day had dawned. All was joy and relaxation when Erskine, the engineer, suddenlyexclaimed: "Mr. Taylor, look astern!" and there, not four miles away, and coming down under sail and steam, was a large side-wheel steamer, left unseen by gross carelessness on the part of the look-out. 

Erskine rushed below, and soon volumes of smoke were pouring from thefunnels, but it was almost too late, for the chaser was coming up sofast that the uniformed officers on her bridge could be distinctly seen. 

"This will never do, " said Steele, and ordered the helm to be altered soas to bring the ship up to the wind. It took them off the course toNassau, but it forced their pursuer to take in her sails, and anexciting chase under steam right into the wind's eye began. Matters atlength became so critical that no hope remained but to lighten the boatby throwing overboard her deck-load of cotton--a sore necessity in viewof the fact that the bales which went bobbing about on the waves wereworth to them £50 or £60 apiece. 

In clearing out the bales they cleared out something more, a runawayslave, who had been standing wedged between two bales for at leastforty-eight hours. He received an ovation on landing at Nassau, but theywere obliged to pay four thousand dollars to his owner on their returnto Wilmington. 

The loss of the cotton lightened the boat and it began to gain in therace, both craft plunging into the great seas that had arisen, yetneither slackening speed. A fresh danger arose when the bearings of theengine became overheated from the enormous strain put upon them. It wasnecessary to stop, despite the imminence of the chase, and to loosen thebearings and feed them liberally with salad oil mixed with gunpowderbefore they were in working order again. Thus, fifteen weary hourspassed away, and nightfall was at hand when the chaser, then only fivemiles astern, turned and gave up the pursuit. It was learned afterwardthat her stokers were dead beat. 

But port was still far away, they having been chased one hundred andfifty miles out of their course, and fuel was getting perilously low. Atthe end of the third day the last coal was used, and then everythingthat would burn was shoved into the furnaces, --main-mast, bulwarks, deckcabin, with cotton and turpentine to aid, --and these only sufficed tocarry them into a Bahama Island, still sixty miles from Nassau. Theywere not there two hours before they saw a Federal steamer glide slowlypast, eying them as the fox eyed the grapes. 

The adventure was still not at its end. Mr. Taylor hired a schooner inthe harbor to go to Nassau and bring back a cargo of coal, he and MurrayAynsely, a passenger, going in it. But the night proved a terrible one, a hurricane rising, and the crew growing so terrified by the fury of thegale and the vividness of the lightning that they nearly wrecked theschooner on the rocks. When the weather moderated the men refused toproceed, and it was only by dint of a show of revolvers and promise ofreward that Taylor and his passenger induced them to go on. On reachingNassau they were utterly worn out, having been almost without sleep fora week, while Taylor's feet were so swollen that his boots had to be cutoff. 

Thus ended one of the most notable chases in the history ofblockade-running, it having lasted fifteen hours and covered nearly twohundred miles. Fortunate was it for the "Banshee" that the "JamesAdger, " her pursuer, had no bow-chasers, and that the weather was toougly for her to venture to yaw and use her broadside guns, or the"Banshee" might have there and then ended her career. 

_FONTAIN, THE SCOUT, AND THE BESIEGERS OF VICKSBURG. _

The Civil War was not lacking in its daring and interesting adventuresof scouts, spies, despatch-bearers, and others of that interesting tribewhose field of operations lies between the armies in the field, andwhose game is played with life as the stake, this being fair prey forthe bullet if pursued, and often for the rope if captured. We have thestory of one these heroes of hazard to tell, a story the moreinteresting from the fact that he was a cripple who seemed fit only tohobble about his home. It is the remarkable feat of Lamar Fontain, aConfederate despatch-bearer, which the record of the war has nothing tosurpass. 

Fontain's disability came from a broken leg, which had left him sodisabled that he could not take a step without a crutch, and in mountinga horse was obliged to lift the useless leg over the saddle with hisright hand. But once in the saddle he was as good a man as his fellow, and his dexterity with the pistol rendered him a dangerous fellow toface when it became a question of life or death. 

We must seek him at that period in 1863 when the stronghold ofVicksburg, on which depended the Confederacy's control of theMississippi, was closely invested by the army of General Grant, thesiege lines so continuous, alike in the rear of the town and on theMississippi and its opposite shore, that it seemed as if hardly a birdcould enter or leave its streets. General Johnston kept the field in therear, but Grant was much too strong for him, and he was obliged to trustto the chapter of chances for the hope of setting Pemberton free fromthe net by which he was surrounded. 

Knowing the daring and usual success of Lamar Fontain in very hazardousenterprises, Johnston engaged him to endeavor to carry a verbal messageto General Pemberton, sending him out on the perilous and seeminglyimpossible venture of making his way into the closely beleaguered city. In addition to his message, he took with him a supply of some fortypounds of percussion caps for the use of the besieged garrison. 

On the 24th of May, 1863, Fontain set out from his father's home, at aconsiderable distance in the rear of the Federal lines. He was wellmounted, and armed with an excellent revolver and a good sabre, which hecarried in a wooden scabbard to prevent its rattling. His other burdenswere his packet of percussion caps, his blanket, and his crutches. 

That night he crossed Big Black River, and before dawn of the next daywas well within the lines of the enemy. Travel by day was now out of thequestion, so he hid his horse in a ravine, and found a place of shelterfor himself in a fallen tree that overlooked the road. From hishiding-place he saw a confused and hasty movement of the enemy, seemingly in retreat from too hot a brush with the garrison. Waitingtill their columns had passed and the nightfall made it safe for him tomove, he mounted again and continued his journey in the direction ofSnyder's Bluff on the Yazoo. 

Entering the telegraphic road from Yazoo City to Vicksburg, he had notgone far before he was confronted and hailed by a picket of the enemy. Spurring his spirited steed, he dashed past at full speed. A volleyfollowed him, one of the balls striking his horse, though none of themtouched him. The good steed had received a mortal wound, but by a finaland desperate effort it carried its rider to the banks of the YazooRiver. Here it fell dead, leaving its late rider afoot, and lacking oneof his crutches, which had been caught and jerked away by the limb of atree as he dashed headlong past. 

With the aid of his remaining crutch, and carrying his baggage, Fontaingroped his way along the river side, keenly looking for some means ofconveyance on its waters. He soon found what he wanted in the shape of asmall log canoe, tied to a tree on the river bank. Pressing this intohis service, and disposing himself and his burden safely within, hepaddled down the stream, hoping to reach the Mississippi and drift downto the city front before break of day. 

Success was not to come so easily. A sound of puffing steam came fromdown the river, and soon a trio of gunboats loomed through the gloom, heading towards Yazoo City. These were avoided by taking shelter amonga bunch of willows that overhung the bank and served to hide the boatfrom view. The gunboats well past, Fontain took to the current again, soon reaching Snyder's Bluff, which was lighted up and a scene ofanimation. Whites and blacks mingled on the bank, and it looked like amidnight ball between the Yankee soldiers and belles of sable hue. Gunboats and barges lined the shore and the light was thrown far outover the stream. But those present were too hilarious to be watchful, and, lying flat in his canoe, the scout glided safely past, the dug-outnot distinguishable from a piece of driftwood. Before the new day dawnedhe reached the backwater of the Mississippi, but in the darkness hemissed the outlet of the Yazoo and paddled into what is called "OldRiver. "

The new day reddened in the east while he was still vainly searching foran opening into the broad parent stream. Then his familiarity with thelocality showed him his mistake, and he was forced to seek ahiding-place for himself and his boat. He had now been out two days andnights. The little food he brought had long been devoured, and hungerwas assailing him. Sleep had also scarcely visited his eyes, and thestrain was growing severe. 

Getting some slumber that day in his covert, he set out again as soon asnight fell, paddling back into the Yazoo, from which he soon reached theMississippi. He was here on a well-peopled stream, boats and lightsbeing abundant. As he glided on through the gloom he passed forty orfifty transports, but had the good fortune to be seen by only one man, who hailed him from the stern of a steamer and asked him where he wasgoing. 

"To look after my fishing-lines, " he replied. 

"All right; hope you'll have a good catch. " And he floated on. 

Farther down in the bend of the stream above Vicksburg he came upon amore animated scene. Here were the mortar-boats in full blast, bombarding the city, every shot lighting up the stream for a wide spacearound. But the gun crews were too busy to pay any attention to theseeming drift-log that glided silently by the fleet or to notice the manthat lay at full length within it. On he went, trusting to the currentand keeping his recumbent position. The next day's dawn found him in themidst of the Confederate picket-boats in front of the city. Here, tyinga white handkerchief to his paddle, he lifted it as a flag of truce, andsat upright with a loud hurrah for Jeff Davis and the SouthernConfederacy. As may well be imagined, his cheers were echoed by theboatmen when they learned his mission, and he was borne in triumphashore and taken to General Pemberton's head-quarters. He received awarm welcome from the general, alike for the message he brought and thevery desirable supply of percussion caps. It was with no littleadmiration that Pemberton heard the story of a daring feat that seemedutterly impossible for a cripple on crutches. 

During the next day the scout wandered about the beleaguered city, viewing the animated and in many respects terrible scene of warfarewhich it presented, --the fierce bombardment from the Federal works, extending in a long curve from the river above to the river below thecity; the hot return fire of the defendants; the equally fierce exchangeof fire between the gunboats and mortars and the intrenchments on thebluffs; the bursting of shells in the city streets; the ruinedhabitations, and the cave-like refuges in which the citizens soughtsafety from the death-dealing missiles. It was a scene never to beforgotten, a spectacle of ruin, suffering, and death. And the sufferingwas not alone from the terrible enginery of war, but from lack of foodas well, for that dread spectre of famine, that in a few weeks more wasto force the surrender of the valiantly defended city, was alreadyshowing its gaunt form in the desolated streets and the foodless homes. 

Fontain was glad enough after his day and night among the besieged toseek again the more open field of operations outside. Receiving adespatch from General Pemberton to his colleague in the field, and asuitable reward for his service, he betook himself again to the canoewhich had stood him in such good stead and resumed his task of danger. He was on a well-guarded river and had to pass through a country full offoes, and the peril of his enterprise was by no means at an end. 

The gloom of evening lay on the stream when he once more trustedhimself to its swift current, which quickly brought him among the craftof the enemy below the city. Avoiding their picket-boats on both sidesof the river, he floated near the gunboats as safer, passing so near oneof them that through an open port-hole he could see a group of menplaying cards and hear their conversation. He made a landing at lengthat Diamond Place, bidding adieu to his faithful dug-out and gladlysetting foot on land again. 

Hobbling with the aid of his crutch through the bottom-lands, the scoutsoon reached higher ground, and here made his way to the house of anacquaintance, hoping to find a mount. But all the useful horses andmules on the place had been confiscated by the foe, there remaining onlya worthless old gelding and a half-broken colt, of which he was offeredthe choice. He took the colt, but found it to travel so badly that hewished he had chosen the gelding. 

In this dilemma fortune favored him, for in the bottom he came upon afine horse, tied by a blind bridle and without a saddle. A basket and anold bag were lying close by, and he inferred from this that a negro hadleft the horse and that a camp of the enemy was near at hand. Here wasan opportunity for confiscation of which he did not hesitate to availhimself, and in all haste he exchanged bridles, saddled the horse, turned loose the colt, mounted, and was off. 

He took a course so as to avoid the supposed camp, but had not gone farbefore he came face to face with a Federal soldier who was evidentlyreturning from a successful foray for plunder, for he was well ladenwith chickens and carried a bucket of honey. He began questioningFontain with a curiosity that threatened unpleasant consequences, andthe alert scout ended the colloquy with a pistol bullet which struck theplunderer squarely in the forehead. Leaving him stretched on the path, with his poultry and honey beside him, Fontain made all haste from thatdangerous locality. 

Reaching a settlement at a distance from the stream, he hired a guide tolead him to Hankerson's Ferry, on the Big Black River, promising himfifty dollars if he would take him there without following any road. They proceeded till near the ferry, when Fontain sent his guide ahead tolearn if any of the enemy were in that vicinity. But there was somethingabout the manner and talk of the man that excited his suspicion, and assoon as the fellow was gone he sought a hiding-place from which he couldwatch his return. The man was gone much longer than appeared necessary. At length he came back alone and reported that the track was clear, there being no Yankees near the ferry. 

Paying and dismissing the guide, without showing his suspicions, Fontaintook good care not to obey his directions, but selected his course so asto approach the river at a point above the ferry. By doing so he escapeda squad of soldiers that seemed posted to intercept him, for as heentered the road near the river bank a sentinel rose not more than tenfeet away and bade him to halt. He seemed to form the right flank of aline of sentinels posted to command the ferry. 

It was a time for quick and decisive action. Fontain had approached, pistol in hand, and as the man hailed he felled him with a bullet, thenwheeled his horse and set out at full gallop up the stream. A shower ofballs followed him, one of them striking his right hand and wounding allfour of its fingers. Another grazed his right leg and a third cut a holethrough his sword scabbard. The horse fared worse, for no fewer thanseven bullets struck it. Keeling from its wounds it still had strengthto bear up for a mile, when it fell and died. 

He had outridden his foes, who were all on foot, and, dividing his armsand clothes into two packages, he trusted himself to the waters of theBig Black, which he swam in safety. On the other side he was in friendlyterritory, and did not walk far before he came to the house of apatriotic Southern woman, who loaned him the only horse she had. It wasa stray one which had come to her place after the Yankee foragers hadcarried off all the horses she owned. 

Fontain was now in a safe region. His borrowed horse carried him toRaymond by two o'clock the next morning, and was here changed for afresh one, which enabled him to reach Jackson during the forenoon. Herehe delivered his despatch to General Johnston, having successfullyperformed a feat which, in view of its difficulties and his physicaldisability, may well be classed as phenomenal. 

_GORDON AND THE BAYONET CHARGE AT ANTIETAM. _

In the opening chapter of General John B. Gordon's interesting"Reminiscences of the Civil War" he tells us that the bayonet, so far ashe knew, was very rarely used in that war, and never effectively. Thebayonet, the lineal descendant of the lance and spear of far-pastwarfare, had done remarkable service in its day, but with the advent ofthe modern rifle its day ended, except as a weapon useful in repellingcavalry charges or defending hollow squares. Fearful as their glitteringand bristling points appeared when levelled in front of a charging line, bayonets were rarely reddened with the blood of an enemy in the CivilWar, and the soldiers of that desperate conflict found them more usefulas tools in the rapid throwing up of light earthworks than as weaponsfor use against their foes. 

Later in his work Gordon gives a case in point, in his vivid descriptionof a bayonet charge upon the line under his command on the bloody fieldof Antietam. This is well worth repeating as an illustration of themodern ineffectiveness of the bayonet, and also as a story of thrillinginterest in itself. As related by Gordon, there are few incidents inthe war which surpass it in picturesqueness and vitality. 

The battle of Antietam was a struggle unsurpassed for its desperate anddeadly fierceness in the whole war, the losses, in comparison with thenumbers engaged, being the greatest of any battle-field of the conflict. The plain in which it was fought was literally bathed in blood. 

It is not our purpose to describe this battle, but simply that portionof it in which General Gordon's troops were engaged. For hour after houra desperate struggle continued on the left of Lee's lines, in whichcharge and counter-charge succeeded each other, until the green cornwhich had waved there looked as if had been showered upon by a rain ofblood. But during those hours of death not a shot had been fired uponthe centre. Here General Gordon's men held the most advanced position, and were without a supporting line, their post being one of imminentdanger in case of an assault in force. 

As the day passed onward the battle on the left at length lulled, bothsides glad of an interval of rest. That McClellan's next attempt wouldbe made upon the centre General Lee felt confident, and he rode thitherto caution the leaders and bid them to hold their ground at anysacrifice. A break at that point, he told them, might prove ruinous tothe army. He especially charged Gordon to stand stiffly with his men, ashis small force would feel the first brunt of the expected assault. Gordon, alike to give hope to Lee and to inspire his own men, said inreply, --

"These men are going to stay here, general, till the sun goes down orvictory is won. "

Lee's military judgment, as usual, was correct. He had hardly got backto the left of his line when the assault predicted by him came. It was abeautiful and brilliant day, scarcely a cloud mantling the sky. Down theslope opposite marched through the clear sunlight a powerful column ofFederal troops. Crossing the little Antietam Creek they formed in columnof assault, four lines deep. Their commander, nobly mounted, placedhimself at their right, while the front line came to a "charge bayonets"and the other lines to a "right shoulder shift. " In the rear front theband blared out martial music to give inspiration to the men. To theConfederates, looking silently and expectantly on the coming corps, thescene was one of thrilling interest. It might have been one of terrorbut for their long training in such sights. 

Who were these men so spick and span in their fresh blue uniforms, instrange contrast to the ragged and soiled Confederate gray? Every man ofthem wore white gaiters and neat attire, while the dust and smoke ofbattle had surely never touched the banners that floated above theirheads. Were they new recruits from some military camp, now first to testtheir training in actual war? In the sunlight the long line of bayonetsgleamed like burnished silver. As if fresh from the parade-ground theyadvanced with perfect alignment, their steps keeping martial time to thesteady beat of the drum. It was a magnificent spectacle as the lineadvanced, a show of martial beauty which it seemed a shame to destroy bythe rude hand of war. 

One thing was evident to General Gordon. His opponent proposed to trustto the bayonet and attempt to break through Lee's centre by the sheerweight of his deep charging column. It might be done. Here were fourlines of blue marching on the one in gray. How should the charge be met?By immediate and steady fire, or by withholding his fire till the lineswere face to face, and then pouring upon the Federals a blighting stormof lead? Gordon decided on the latter, believing that a sudden andwithering burst of deadly hail in the faces of men with empty guns wouldbe more than any troops could stand. 

All the horses were sent to the rear and the men were ordered to liedown in the grass, they being told by their officers that the Federalswere coming with unloaded guns, trusting to the bayonet, and that not ashot must be heard until the word "Fire!" was given. This would not beuntil the Federals were close at hand. In the old Revolutionary phrase, they must wait "till they saw the whites of their eyes. "

On came the long lines, still as steady and precise in movement as ifupon holiday drill. Not a rifle-shot was heard. Neither side hadartillery at this point, and no roar of cannon broke the strangesilence. The awaiting boys in gray grew eager and impatient and had tobe kept in restraint by their officers. "Wait! wait for the word!" wasthe admonition. Yet it was hard to lie there while that line of bayonetscame closer and closer, until the eagles on the buttons of the bluecoats could be seen, and at length the front rank was not twenty yardsaway. 

The time had come. With all the power of his lungs Gordon shouted outthe word "Fire!" In an instant there burst from the prostrate line ablinding blaze of light, and a frightful hail of bullets rent throughthe Federal ranks. Terrible was the effect of that consuming volley. Almost the whole front rank of the foe seemed to go down in a mass. Thebrave commander and his horse fell in a heap together. In a moment hewas on his feet; it was the horse, not the man, that the deadly bullethad found. 

In an instant more the recumbent Confederates were on their feet, anappalling yell bursting from their throats as they poured new volleysupon the Federal lines. No troops on earth could have faced that firewithout a chance to reply. Their foes bore unloaded guns. Not a bayonethad reached the breast for which it was aimed. The lines recoiled, though in good order for men swept by such a blast of death. Largenumbers of them had fallen, yet not a drop of blood had been lost by oneof Gordon's men. 

The gallant man who led the Federals was not yet satisfied that thebayonet could not break the ranks of his foes. Reforming his men, now inthree lines, he led them again with empty guns to the charge. Again theywere driven back with heavy loss. With extraordinary persistence heclung to his plan of winning with the bayonet, coming on again and againuntil four fruitless charges had been made on Gordon's lines, not a manin which had fallen, while the Federal loss had been very heavy. Notuntil convinced by this sanguinary evidence that the day of the bayonetwas past did he order his men to load and open fire on the hostilelines. It was an experiment in an obsolete method of warfare which hadproved disastrous to those engaged in it. 

[Illustration: GORDON HOUSE. ]

In the remaining hours of that desperate conflict Gordon and his men hadanother experience to face. The fire from both sides grew furious anddeadly, and at nightfall, when the carnage ceased, so many of thesoldiers in gray had fallen that, as one of the officers afterward said, he could have walked on the dead bodies of the men from end to end ofthe line. How true this was Gordon was unable to say, for by this timehe was himself a wreck, fairly riddled with bullets. 

As he tells us, his previous record was remarkably reversed in thisfight, and we cannot better close our story than with a description ofhis new experience. He had hitherto seemed almost to bear a charmedlife. While numbers had fallen by his side in battle, and his ownclothing had been often pierced and torn by balls and fragments ofshells, he had not lost a drop of blood, and his men looked upon him asone destined by fate not to be killed in battle. "They can't hit him;""He's as safe in one place as another, " form a type of the expressionsused by them, and Gordon grew to have much the same faith in hisdestiny, as he passed through battle after battle unharmed. 

At Antietam the record was decidedly broken. The first volley from theFederal troops sent a bullet whirling through the calf of his right leg. Soon after another ball went through the same leg, at a higher point. Asno bone was broken, he was still able to walk along the line andencourage his men to bear the deadly fire which was sweeping theirlines. Later in the day a third ball came, this passing through his arm, rending flesh and tendons, but still breaking no bone. Through hisshoulder soon came a fourth ball, carrying a wad of clothing into thewound. The men begged their bleeding commander to leave the field, buthe would not flinch, though fast growing faint from loss of blood. 

Finally came the fifth ball, this time striking him in the face, andpassing out, just missing the jugular vein. Falling, he lay unconsciouswith his face in his cap, into which poured the blood from his wounduntil it threatened to smother him. It might have done so but for stillanother ball, which pierced the cap and let out the blood. 

When Gordon was borne to the rear he had been so seriously wounded andlost so much blood that his case seemed hopeless. Fortunately for him, his faithful wife had followed him to the war and now became his nurse. As she entered the room, with a look of dismay on seeing him, Gordon, who could scarcely speak from the condition of his face, sought toreassure her with, the faintly articulated words, "Here's your handsomehusband; been to an Irish wedding. "

It was providential for him that he had this faithful and devoted nurseby his side. Only her earnest and incessant care saved him to join thewar again. Day and night she was beside him, and when erysipelasattacked his wounded arm and the doctors told her to paint the arm abovethe wound three or four times a day with iodine, she obeyed by paintingit, as he thought, three or four hundred times a day. "Under God'sprovidence, " he says, "I owe my life to her incessant watchfulness nightand day, and to her tender nursing through weary weeks and anxiousmonths. "

_THE LAST TRIUMPH OF STONEWALL JACKSON. _

The story of the battle of Chancellorsville and of Jackson's famousflank movement, with its disastrous result to Hooker's army, and to theConfederates in the loss of their beloved leader, has been often told. But these narratives are from the outside; we propose to give one herefrom the inside, in the graphic description of Heros Von Borcke, GeneralJ. E. B. Stuart's chief of staff, who took an active part in thestirring events of that critical 2d of May, 1863. 

It is a matter of general history how General Hooker led his army acrossthe Rappahannock into that ugly region at Chancellorsville, with itsmorasses, hills, and ravines, its dense forest of scrub-oaks and pines, and its square miles of tangled undergrowth, which was justly known asThe Wilderness; and how he strongly intrenched himself against an attackin front, with breastworks of logs and an abattis of felled trees. It isequally familiar how Lee, well aware of the peril of attacking theseformidable works, accepted the bold plan of Stonewall Jackson, whoproposed to make a secret flank movement and fall with his entire corpson Hooker's undefended rear. This was a division of Lee's army whichmight have led to disaster and destruction; but he had learned to trustin Jackson's star. He accordingly made vigorous demonstrations inHooker's front, in order to attract his attention and keep him employed, while Jackson was marching swiftly and stealthily through the thickwoods, with Stuart's cavalry between him and the foe, to the Orangeplank-road, four miles westward from Chancellorsville. With thisintroductory sketch of the situation we leave the details of the marchto Von Borcke. 

"All was bustle and confusion as I galloped along the lines on themorning of the 2d, to obtain, according to Stuart's orders, the latestinstructions for our cavalry from General Lee, who was located at adistance of some miles to our right. Anderson's and McLaws'ssharp-shooters were advancing and already exchanging shots with theenemy's skirmishers--the line of battle of these two divisions havingbeen partially extended over the space previously occupied by Jackson'scorps, that they might cover its movements. 

"This splendid corps meanwhile was marching in close columns in adirection which set us all wondering what could be the intentions of oldStonewall; but as we beheld him riding along, heading the troopshimself, we should as soon have thought of questioning the sagacity ofour admired chief as of hesitating to follow him blindly wherever heshould lead. The orders of the cavalry were to report to Jackson and toform his advanced-guard; and in that capacity we marched silently alongthrough the forest, taking a small by-road, which brought us severaltimes so near the enemy's lines that the stroke of axes, mingled withthe hum of voices from their camp, was distinctly audible. 

"Thus commenced the famous flank march which, more than any otheroperation of the war, proved the brilliant strategical talents ofGeneral Lee and the consummate ability of his lieutenant. About twoo'clock a body of Federal cavalry came in sight, making, however, butslight show of resistance, and falling back slowly before us. By aboutfour o'clock we had completed our movement without encountering anymaterial obstacle, and reached a patch of woods in rear of the enemy'sright wing, formed by the Eleventh Corps, Howard's, which was encampedin a large open field not more than half a mile distant. 

"Halting here, the cavalry threw forward a body of skirmishers to occupythe enemy's attention, while the divisions of Jackson's corps--A. P. Hill's, Colston's, and Rode's, numbering in all about twenty-eightthousand men--moved into line of battle as fast as they arrived. Orderedto reconnoitre the position of the Federals, I rode cautiously forwardthrough the forest, and reached a point whence I obtained a capital viewof the greater part of the troops, whose attitude betokened how totallyremote was any suspicion that a numerous host was so near at hand. 

"It was evident that the whole movement we had thus so successfullyexecuted was regarded as merely an unimportant cavalry raid, for only afew squadrons were drawn up in line to oppose us, and a battery of fourguns were placed in a position to command the plank-road from Germana, over which we had been marching for the last two hours. The main body ofthe troops were listlessly reposing, while some regiments were lookingon, drawn up on dress parade; artillery horses were quietly grazing atsome distance from their guns, and the whole scene presented a pictureof the most perfect heedlessness and nonchalance, compatible only withutter unconsciousness of impending danger. 

"While complacently gazing on this extraordinary spectacle, somewhattouched myself apparently with the spell of listless incaution in whichour antagonists were locked, I was startled with the sound of closelyapproaching footsteps, and, turning in their direction, beheld a patrolof six or eight of the enemy's infantry just breaking through the bushesand gazing at me with most unmistakable astonishment. I had no time tolose here, that was certain; so quickly tugging my horse's head round inthe direction of my line of retreat, and digging my spurs into hissides, I dashed off from before the bewildered Yankees, and was out ofsight ere they had time to take steady aim, the bullets that camewhizzing after me flying far wide of the mark. 

"On my return to the spot where I had left Stuart, I found him, withJackson and the officers of their respective staffs, stretched out alongthe grass beneath a gigantic oak, and tranquilly discussing their plansfor the impending battle which both seemed confidently to regard aslikely to end in a great and important victory for our arms. Towardsfive o'clock Jackson's adjutant, Major Pendleton, galloped up to us andreported that the line of battle was formed and all was in readiness forimmediate attack. Accordingly the order was at once given for the wholecorps to advance. All hastened forthwith to their appointed posts, General Stuart and his staff joining the cavalry, which was to operateon the left of our infantry. 

"Scarcely had we got up to our men when the Confederate yell, whichalways preceded a charge, burst forth along our lines, and Jackson'sveterans, who had been with difficulty held back till that moment, bounded forward towards the astounded and perfectly paralyzed enemy, while the thunder of our horse-artillery, on whom devolved the honor ofopening the ball, reached us from the other extremity of the line. Themore hotly we sought to hasten to the front, the more obstinately did weget entangled in the undergrowth, while our infantry moved on so rapidlythat the Federals were already completely routed by the time we had gotthoroughly quit of the forest. 

[Illustration: TRIUMPH OF STONEWALL JACKSON. ]

"It was a strange spectacle that now greeted us. The whole of theEleventh Corps had broken at the first shock of the attack; entireregiments had thrown down their arms, which were lying in regular lineson the ground, as if for inspection; suppers just prepared had beenabandoned; tents, baggage, wagons, cannons, half-slaughtered oxen, covered the foreground in chaotic confusion, while in the background ahost of many thousand Yankees were discerned scampering for their livesas fast as their limbs could carry them, closely followed by our men, who were taking prisoners by the hundreds, and scarcely firing a shot. "

That the story of panic here told is not too much colored by thewriter's sympathy for his cause, may be seen by the following extractfrom Lossing's "Civil War in America, " a work whose sympathies aredistinctly on the other side. After saying that Jackson's march had notpassed unobserved by the Federals, who looked on it as a retreat towardsRichmond, and were preparing for a vigorous pursuit of the supposedfugitives, Lossing thus describes the Confederate onset and the Federalrout:

"He (Jackson) had crossed the Orange plank-road, and, under cover of thedense jungle of the wilderness, had pushed swiftly northward to the oldturnpike and beyond, feeling his enemy at every step. Then he turned hisface towards Chancellorsville, and, just before six o'clock in theevening, he burst from the thickets with twenty-five thousand men, and, like a sudden, unexpected, and terrible tornado, swept on towards theflank and rear of Howard's corps, which occupied the National right; thegame of the forest--deers, wild turkeys, and hares--flying wildly beforehim, and becoming to the startled Unionists the heralds of theapproaching tempest of war. These mute messengers were followed by thesound of bugles; then by a few shots from approaching skirmishers; thenby a tremendous yell from a thousand throats and a murderous fire from astrong battle line. Jackson, in heavy force, was upon the Eleventh Corpsat the moment when the men were preparing for supper and repose, withouta suspicion of danger near. Deven's division, on the extreme right, received the first blow, and almost instantly the surprised troops, panic-stricken, fled towards the rear, along the line of the corps, communicating their emotions of alarm to the other divisions. . . . In thewildest confusion the fugitives rushed along the road towardsChancellorsville, upon the position of General Carl Schurz, whosedivision had already retreated, in anticipation of the onset, and theturbulent tide of frightened men rolled back upon General A. VonSteinwehr, utterly regardless of the exertions of the commander of thecorps and his subordinate officers to check their flight. Only a fewregiments, less demoralized than the others, made resistance, and thesewere instantly scattered like chaff, leaving half their number dead ordying on the field. "

With this vivid picture of an army in a panic, we shall again take upVon Borcke's personal narrative at the point where we left it:

"The broken nature of the ground was against all cavalry operations, andthough we pushed forward with all our will, it was with difficulty wecould keep up with Jackson's 'Foot-cavalry, ' as this famous infantry wasoften called. Meanwhile, a large part of the Federal army, roused by thefiring and the alarming reports from the rear, hastened to the field ofaction, and exerted themselves in vain to arrest the disgraceful rout oftheir comrades of the Eleventh Corps. Numerous batteries having nowjoined the conflict, a terrific cannonade roared along the lines, andthe fury of the battle was soon at its full height. Towards dark asudden pause ensued in the conflict, occasioned by Jackson giving ordersfor his lines to reform for the continuation of the combat, the rapidand prolonged pursuit of the enemy having thrown them into considerableconfusion. Old Stonewall being thoroughly impressed with the convictionthat in a few hours the enemy's whole forces would be defeated, and thattheir principal line of retreat would be in the direction of Ely's Ford, Stuart was ordered to proceed at once towards that point with a portionof his cavalry, in order to barricade the road and as much as possibleimpede the retrograde movement of the enemy. 

"In this operation we were joined by a North Carolina infantry regiment, which was already on its way towards the river. Leaving the greater partof the brigade behind us under Fitz Lee's command, we took only theFirst Virginia Cavalry with us, and, trotting rapidly along a smallbypath, overtook the infantry about two miles from the ford. Riding withStuart a little ahead of our men, I suddenly discovered, on reachingthe summit of a slight rise in the road, a large encampment in thevalley to our right, not more than a quarter of a mile from where westood; and, farther still, on the opposite side of the river, morecamp-fires were visible, indicating the presence of a large body oftroops. 

"Calling a halt, the general and I rode cautiously forward toreconnoitre the enemy a little more closely, and we managed to approachnear enough to hear distinctly the voices and distinguish the figures ofthe men sitting around their fires or strolling through the camp. Theunexpected presence of so large a body of the enemy immediately in ourpath entirely disconcerted our previous arrangements. NeverthelessStuart determined on giving them a slight surprise and disturbing theircomfort by a few volleys from our infantry. Just as the regiment, mustering about a thousand, had formed into line according to orders, and was prepared to advance on the enemy, two officers of General A. P. Hill's staff rode up in great haste and excitement, and communicatedsomething in a low tone to General Stuart, by which he seemed greatlystartled and affected. 

"'Take the command of that regiment, and act on your ownresponsibility, ' were his whispered injunctions to me, as he immediatelyrode off, followed by the other officers and the cavalry at theirtopmost speed. 

"The thunder of the cannon, which for the last hour had increased inloudness, announced that Jackson had recommenced the battle, but as tothe course or actual position of affairs I had not an iota ofinformation, and my anxiety being moreover increased by the suddennessof Stuart's departure on some unknown emergency, I felt rather awkwardlysituated. Here was I in the darkness of the night, in an unknown andthickly wooded country, some six miles from our main army, and oppositeto a far superior force, whom I was expected to attack with troops whomI had never before commanded, and to whom I was scarcely known. I felt, however, that there was no alternative but blind obedience, so Iadvanced with the regiment to within about fifty yards of the enemy'sencampment and gave the command to fire. 

"A hail of bullets rattled through the forest, and as volley aftervolley was fired, the confusion and dismay occasioned in the camp wereindescribable. Soldiers and officers could be plainly seen by the lightof the fires walking helplessly about, horses were galloping wildly inall directions, and the sound of bugles and drums mingled with the criesof the wounded and flying, who sought in the distant woods a shelteragainst the murderous fire of their unseen enemy. The troops whom wethus dispersed and put to flight consisted, as I was afterward informed, of the greater part of Averil's cavalry division, and a great number ofthe men of this command were so panic-stricken that they did motconsider themselves safe until they had reached the opposite side ofthe Rapidan, when they straggled off for miles all through CulpeperCounty. 

"Our firing had been kept up for about half an hour, and had by thistime stirred up alarm in the camps on the other side of the river, thetroops of which were marching on us from various directions. Accordingly, I gave orders to my North Carolinians to retire, leavingthe task of bringing his command back to the colonel; while, anxious torejoin Stuart as soon as I could, I galloped on ahead through the darkforest, whose solemn silence was only broken by the melancholy cry ofhosts of whippoorwills. The firing had now ceased altogether, and allfighting seemed to have been entirely given up, which greatly increasedmy misgivings. After a tedious ride of nearly an hour over the field ofbattle, still covered with hundreds of wounded groaning in their agony, I at last discovered Stuart seated under a solitary plum-tree, busilywriting despatches by the dim light of a lantern. 

"From General Stuart I now received the first intimation of the heavycalamity which had befallen us by the wounding of Jackson. After havinginstructed his men to fire at everything approaching from the directionof the enemy, in his eagerness to reconnoitre the position of theFederals, and entirely forgetting his own orders, he had been ridingwith his staff-officers outside our pickets, when, on their return, being mistaken for the enemy, the little party were received by a SouthCarolina regiment with a volley that killed or wounded nearly every manof them and laid low our beloved Stonewall himself. The Federalsadvancing at the same time, a severe skirmish ensued, in the course ofwhich one of the bearers of the litter on which the general was beingcarried was killed, and Jackson fell heavily to the ground, receivingsoon afterward a second wound. For a few minutes, in fact, the generalwas in the hands of the enemy, but his men, becoming aware of hisperilous position, rushed forward, and, speedily driving back theadvancing foe, carried their wounded commander to the rear. "

Jackson received three balls, one in the right hand and two in the leftarm, one of these shattering the bone just below the shoulder andsevering an artery. He was borne to the Wilderness tavern, where aConfederate hospital had been established, and there his arm wasamputated. Eight days after receiving his wounds, on the 10th of May, hedied, an attack of pneumonia being the chief cause of his death. Hislast words were, as a smile of ineffable sweetness passed over his paleface, "Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of thetrees. "

Thus died the man who was justly named the "right hand" of General Lee, and whose death converted his last great victory into a serious disasterfor the Confederate cause, the loss of a leader like Stonewall Jacksonbeing equivalent to the destruction of an army. 

_JOHN MORGAN'S FAMOUS RAID. _

The romance of war dwells largely upon the exploits of partisan leaders, men with a roving commission to do business on their own account, and inwhose ranks are likely to gather the dare-devils of the army, those wholove to come and go as they please, and leave a track of adventure anddismay behind them. There were such leaders in both armies during theCivil War, and especially in that of the South; and among the mostdaring and successful of them was General John H. Morgan, whose famousraid through Indiana and Ohio it is our purpose here to describe. 

Morgan was a son of the people, not of the aristocratic cavalier class, but was just the man to make his mark in a conflict of this character, being richly supplied by nature with courage, daring, andself-possession in times of peril. He became a cavalry leader in theregular service, but was given a free foot to control his own movements, and had gathered about him a body of men of his own type, with whom heroamed about with a daring and audacity that made him a terror to theenemy. 

Morgan's most famous early exploit was his invasion of Kentucky in 1862, in which he kept the State in a fever of apprehension during most ofthe summer, defeating all who faced him and venturing so near toCincinnati that the people of that city grew wild with apprehension. Only the sharp pursuit of General G. C. Smith, with a superior cavalryforce, saved that rich city from being made an easy prey to Morgan andhis men. 

As preliminary to our main story, we may give in brief one of Morgan'scharacteristic exploits. The town of Gallatin, twenty miles north ofNashville, was occupied by a small Federal force and seemed to Morgan tooffer a fair field for one of his characteristic raids. His men wereready, --they always were for an enterprise promising danger andloot, --and they fell on the town with a swoop that quickly made them itsmasters and its garrison their captives. 

While the victors were paying themselves for their risk by spoiling theenemy, Morgan proceeded to the telegraph office, with the hope that hemight find important despatches. So sudden had been the assault that theoperator did not know that anything out of the usual had taken place, and took Morgan for a Northern officer. When asked what was going on, hereplied, --

"Nothing particular, except that we hear a good deal about the doings ofthat rebel bandit, Morgan. If he should happen to come across my path, Ihave pills enough here to satisfy him. " He drew his revolver andflourished it bravely in the air. 

Morgan turned on the braggart with a look and tone that quite robbed himof his courage, saying, "I am Morgan! You are speaking to Morgan, youmiserable wretch. Do you think you have any pills to spare for me?"

The operator almost sank on his knees with terror, while the weapon fellfrom his nerveless hand. 

"Don't be scared, " said the general. "I will not hurt you. But I wantyou to send off this despatch at once to Prentiss. "

The much-scared operator quickly ticked off the following message, --

 "MR. PRENTISS, --As I learn at this telegraph office that you intend to proceed to Nashville, perhaps you will allow me to escort you there at the head of my troop. "

 "JOHN MORGAN. "

What effect this despatch had on Prentiss history sayeth not. 

With this preliminary account of Morgan and the character of hisexploits, we proceed to the most famous incident of his career, hisdaring invasion of the North, one of the most stirring and excitingincidents of the war. 

The main purpose of this invasion is said to have been to contrive adiversion in favor of General Buckner, who proposed to make a dashacross Kentucky and seize Louisville, and afterward, with Morgan's aid, to capture Cincinnati. It was also intended to form a nucleus for anarmed counter-revolution in the Northwest, where the "Knights of theGolden Circle" and the "Sons of Liberty, " associations in sympathy withthe South, were strong. But with these ulterior purposes we havenothing here to do, our text being the incidents of the raid itself. 

General Morgan started on this bold adventure on June 27, 1863, with aforce of several thousand mounted men, and with four pieces ofartillery. The start was made from Sparta, Tennessee, where the swollenCumberland was crossed in boats and canoes on the 1st and 2d of July, the horses, with some difficulty, being made to swim. 

After successful encounters with Jacob's cavalry and a troop ofWolford's cavalry, the adventurers pushed on, reaching the stockade atGreen River Bridge on July 4. Here Colonel Moore was strongly intrenchedwith a small body of Michigan troops, and sent the following reply toMorgan's demand for a surrender: "If it was any other day I mightconsider the demand, but the 4th of July is a bad day to talk aboutsurrender, and I must therefore decline. "

Moore proved quite capable, with the aid of his intrenchments, of makinggood his refusal, Morgan being repulsed, after a brisk engagement, witha loss of about sixty men, as estimated by Captain Cunningham, anofficer of his staff. Lebanon was taken, after a severe engagement, onthe 5th, yielding the Confederates a good supply of guns and ammunition, and the Ohio was reached, at Brandenburg, in a drenching rain, on theevening of the 7th. Here two steamers were seized and the whole forcecrossed on the next day to the Indiana shore. 

General Morgan's force had been swelled, by recruits gained inKentucky, until it now numbered four thousand six hundred men, and itsfour guns had become ten. But he was being hotly pursued by GeneralHobson, who had hastily got on his track with a cavalry force strongerthan his own. This reached the river to see the last of Morgan's mensafe on the Indiana shore, and one of the steamers they had usedfloating, a mass of flames, down the stream. 

Hobson's loss of time in crossing the stream gave Morgan twenty-fourhours' advance, which he diligently improved. The advance of Rosecransagainst Bragg had prevented the proposed movement of Buckner to thenorth, and there remained for Morgan only an indefinite movement throughthe Northern States with the secondary hope of finding aid and sympathythere. It was likely to be an enterprise of the utmost peril, withHobson hotly on his track, and the home-guards rising in his front, butthe dauntless Morgan did not hesitate in his desperate adventure. 

The first check was at Corydon, where a force of militia had gathered. But these were quickly overpowered, the town was forced to yield itsquota of spoil, three hundred fresh horses were seized, and Morganadopted a shrewd system of collecting cash contributions from thewell-to-do, demanding one thousand dollars from the owner of each milland factory as a condition of saving their property from the flames. Itmay be said here that Corydon was the principal place in which anystrong opposition was made by the people, the militia being concentratedat the large towns, which Morgan took care to avoid, pursuing his waythrough the panic-stricken villages and rural districts. There wereother brushes with the home-guards, but none of much importance. 

The failure of the original purpose of the movement, and the briskpursuit of the Federal cavalry, left Morgan little to hope for but toget in safety across the Ohio again. In addition to Hobson's cavalryforce, General Judah's division was in active motion to intercept him, and the whole line of the Ohio swarmed with foes. The position of theraiders grew daily more desperate, but they rode gallantly on, trustingthe result to destiny and the edge of their good swords. 

On swept Morgan and his men; on rushed Hobson and his troopers. But theformer rode on fresh horses; the latter followed on jaded steeds. Forfive miles on each side of his line of march Morgan swept the countryclear of horses, leaving his own weary beasts in their stead, whileHobson's force, finding no remounts, grew steadily less in number fromthe exhaustion of his horses. The people, through fear, even fed andwatered the horses of Morgan's men with the greatest promptness, thusadding to the celerity of his movements. 

Some anecdotes of the famous ride may here be fitly given. At one pointon his ride through Indiana Morgan left the line of march with threehundred and fifty of his men to visit a small town, the main bodymarching on. Dashing into the place, he found a body of some threehundred home-guards, each with a good horse. They were dismounted andtheir horses tied to the fences. Their captain, a confiding individual, on the wrong side of sixty, looked with surprise at this irruption, andasked, --

"Whose company is this?"

"Wolford's cavalry, " was the reply. 

"What? Kentucky boys? Glad to see you. Where's Wolford?"

"There he sits, " answered the man, pointing to Morgan, who wascarelessly seated sideways on his horse. Walking up to Wolford, --as hethought him, --the Indiana captain saluted him, --

"Captain, how are you?"

"Bully; how are you? What are you going to do with all these men andhorses?"

"Why, you see that horse-thieving John Morgan is in this part of thecountry, cutting up the deuce. Between you and me, captain, if he comesthis way, we'll try and give him the best we've got in the shop. "

"You'll find him hard to catch. We've been after him for fourteen daysand can't see him at all, " said Morgan. 

"If our hosses would only stand fire we'd be all right. "

"They won't stand, eh?"

"Not for shucks. I say, captain, I'd think it a favor if you and yourmen would put your saddles on our hosses, and give our lads a littleidea of a cavalry drill. They say you're prime at that. "

"Why, certainly; anything to accommodate. I think we can show you someuseful evolutions. "

Little time was lost in changing the saddles from the tired to the freshhorses, the hoosier boys aiding in the work, and soon the Confederates, delighted with the exchange, were in their saddles and ready for theword. Morgan rode up and down the column, then moved to the front, tookoff his hat, and said, --

"All right now, captain. If you and your men will form a double linealong the road and watch us, we will try to show you a movement you havenever seen. "

The captain gave the necessary order to his men, who drew up in line. 

"Are you ready?" asked Morgan. 

"All right, Wolford. "

"Forward!" shouted Morgan, and the column shot ahead at a rattling pace, soon leaving nothing in sight but a cloud of dust. When the news becamewhispered among the astonished hoosiers that the polite visitor wasMorgan instead of Wolford, there was gnashing of teeth in that town, despite the fact that each man had been left a horse in exchange for hisown. 

As Morgan rode on he continued his polite method of levying a tax fromthe mill-owners instead of burning their property. At Salem, the nextplace after leaving Corydon, he collected three thousand dollars fromthree mill-owners. Capturing, at another time, Washington De Pauw, a manof large wealth, he said to him, --

"Sir, do you consider your flour-mill worth two thousand dollars?"

De Pauw thought it was worth that. 

"Very well; you can save it for that much money. "

De Pauw promptly paid the cash. 

"Now, " said Morgan, "do you think your woollen-mill worth three thousanddollars?"

"Yes, " said De Pauw, with more hesitation. 

"You can buy it from us for that sum. "

The three thousand dollars was paid over less willingly, and themill-owner was heartily glad that he had no other mills to redeem. 

Another threat to burn did not meet with as much success. ColonelCraven, of Ripley, who was taken prisoner, talked in so caustic a tonethat Morgan asked where the colonel lived. 

"At Osgood, " was the answer. 

"That little town on the railroad?"

"Yes, " said the colonel. 

"All right; I shall send a detachment there to burn the town. "

"Burn and be hanged!" said the colonel; "it isn't much of a town, anyhow. "

Morgan laughed heartily at the answer. 

"I like the way you talk, old fellow, " he said, "and I guess your towncan stand. "

As the ride went on Morgan had more and more cause for alarm. Hobsonwas hanging like a burr on his rear, rarely more than half a day's marchbehind--the lack of fresh horses kept him from getting nearer. Judah wason his flank, and had many of his men patrolling the Ohio. The governorshad called for troops, and the country was rising on all sides. The Ohiowas now the barrier between him and safety, and Morgan rode thither attop speed, striking the river on the 19th at Buffington Ford, abovePomeroy, in Ohio. For the past week, as Cunningham says, "everyhill-side contained an enemy and every ravine a blockade, and we reachedthe river dispirited and worn down. "

At the river, instead of safety, imminent peril was found. Hundreds ofJudah's men were on the stream in gunboats to head him off. Hobson, Wolford, and other cavalry leaders were closing in from behind. Theraiders seemed environed by enemies, and sharp encounters began. Judahstruck them heavily in flank. Hobson assailed them in the rear, and, hemmed in on three sides and unable to break through the environinglines, five hundred of the raiders, under Dick Morgan and Ward, wereforced to surrender. 

"Seeing that the enemy had every advantage of position, " saysCunningham, "an overwhelming force of infantry and cavalry, and that wewere becoming completely environed in the meshes of the net set for us, the command was ordered to move up the river at double-quick, . . . Andwe moved rapidly off the field, leaving three companies of dismountedmen, and perhaps two hundred sick and wounded, in the enemy'spossession. Our cannon were undoubtedly captured at the river. "

Morgan now followed the line of the stream, keeping behind the hills outof reach of the gunboat fire, till Bealville, fourteen miles above, wasreached. Here he rode to the stream, having distanced the gunboats, andwith threats demanded aid from the people in crossing. Flats and scowswere furnished for only about three hundred of the men, who managed tocross before the gunboats appeared in sight. Others sought to cross byswimming. In this effort Cunningham had the following experience:

"My poor mare being too weak to carry me, turned over and commencedgoing down; encumbered by clothes, sabre, and pistols, I made but poorprogress in the turbid stream. But the recollections of home, of abright-eyed maiden in the sunny South, and an inherent love of life, actuated me to continue swimming. . . . But I hear something behind mesnorting! I feel it passing! Thank God, I am saved! A riderless horsedashes by; I grasp his tail; onward he bears me, and the shore isreached!" And thus Cunningham passes out of the story. 

The remainder of the force fled inland, hotly pursued, fighting alittle, burning bridges, and being at length brought to bay, surroundedby foes, and forced to surrender, except a small party with Morganstill at their head. Escape for these seemed hopeless. For six days morethey rode onward, in a desperate effort to reach the Ohio at someunguarded point. They were sharply pursued, and, at length, on Sunday, July 26, found themselves very hotly pressed. Along one road dashedMorgan, at the full speed of his mounts. Over a road at right anglesrushed Major Rue, thundering along. It was a sharp burst for theintersection. Morgan reached it first, and Rue thought he had escaped. But the major knew the country like a book. His horses were fresh andMorgan's were jaded. Another tremendous dash was made for the BeaverCreek road, and this the major reached a little ahead. 

It was all up now with the famous raid. Morgan's men were too few tobreak through the intercepting force. He made the bluff of sending aflag with a demand to surrender; but Rue couldn't see it in that light, and a few minutes afterward Morgan rode up to him, saying, "You havebeat me this time, " and expressing himself as gratified that aKentuckian was his captor. 

A mere fragment of the command remained, the others having beenscattered and picked up at various points, and thus ended the career, incapture or death, of nearly all the more than four thousand bold raiderswho had crossed the Ohio three weeks before. They had gained fame, butwith captivity as its goal. 

Morgan and several of his officers were taken to Columbus, the capitalof Ohio, and were there confined in felon cells in the penitentiary. Four months afterward the leader and six of his captains escaped andmade their way in safety to the Confederate lines. Here is the story inoutline of how they got free from durance vile. 

Two small knives served them for tools, with which they dug through thefloors of their cells, composed of cement and nine inches of brickwork, and in this way reached an air-chamber below. They had now only to digthrough the soft earth under the foundation walls of the penitentiaryand open a passage into the yard. They had furnished themselves with astrong rope, made of their bed-clothes, and with this they scaled thewalls. In some way they had procured citizen's clothes, so that thosewho afterward saw them had no suspicion. 

In the cell Morgan left the following note: "Cell No. 20. November 20, 1863. Commencement, November 4, 1863. Conclusion, November 20, 1863. Number of hours of labor per day, three. Tools, two small knives. _Lapatience est amère, mais son fruit est doux_ [Patience is bitter, butits fruit is sweet]. By order of my six honorable confederates. "

Morgan and Captain Hines went immediately to the railroad station (atone o'clock in the morning) and boarded a train going towardsCincinnati. When near this city, they went to the rear car, slackenedthe speed by putting on the brake, and jumped off, making their way tothe Ohio. Here they induced a boy to row them across, and soon foundshelter with friends in Kentucky. 

A reward of one thousand dollars was offered for Morgan, "alive ordead, " but the news of the ovation with which he was soon after receivedin Richmond proved to his careless jailers that he was safely beyondtheir reach. 

A few words will finish the story of Morgan's career. He was soon at thehead of a troop again, annoying the enemy immensely in Kentucky. One ofhis raiding parties, three hundred strong, actually pushed GeneralHobson, his former pursuer, into a bend of the Licking River, andcaptured him with twelve hundred well-armed men. This was Morgan's lastexploit. Soon afterward he, with a portion of his staff, were surroundedwhen in a house at Greenville by Union troops, and the famousConfederate leader was shot dead while seeking to escape. 

_HOME-COMING OF GENERAL LEE AND HIS VETERANS. _

Sad is defeat, and more than sad was the last march of General Lee'sgallant army after its four years of heroic struggle, as it despondentlymade its way along the Virginian roads westward from the capital citywhich it had defended so long and valiantly. It was the verdantspring-tide, but the fresh green foliage had no charms for theheart-broken and starving men, whose food supplies had grown so low thatthey were forced to gnaw the young shoots of the trees for sustenance. It is not our purpose here to tell what followed the surrounding of thefragment of an army by an overwhelming force of foes, the surrender andparole, and the dispersion of the veteran troops to the four winds, butto confine ourselves to the homeward journey of General Lee and a few ofhis veterans. 

Shortly after the surrender, General Lee returned to Richmond, ridingslowly from the scene on his iron-gray war-horse, "Traveller, " which hadborne him so nobly through years of battle and siege. His parting withhis soldiers was pathetic, and everywhere on his road to Richmond hereceived tokens of admiration and respect from friend and foe. ReachingRichmond, he and his companions passed sadly through a portion of thecity which exhibited a distressing scene of blackened ruins from therecent conflagration. As he passed onward he was recognized, and thepeople flocked to meet him, cheering and waving hats and handkerchiefs. The general, to whom this ovation could not have been agreeable, simplyraised his hat in response to the greetings of the citizens, and rode onto his residence in Franklin Street. The closing of its doors upon hisretiring form was the final scene in that long drama of war of which foryears he had been the central figure. He had returned to that privatefamily life for which his soul had yearned even in the most activescenes of the war. 

It is our purpose here to reproduce a vivid personal account of theadventures of some of the retiring soldiers, especially as General Leebore a part in their experiences. The narrative given is the final oneof a series of incidents in the life of the private soldier, related byPrivate Carlton McCarthy. These papers, in their day, were widely readand much admired, and an extract from them cannot fail still to be ofinterest. We take up the story of the "Brave Survivors, homeward bound:"

"Early in the morning of Wednesday, the 12th of April, without thestirring drum or the bugle call of old, the camp awoke to the new life. Whether or not they had a country, these soldiers did not know. Home tomany, when they reached it, was graves and ashes. At any rate, theremust be, somewhere on earth, a better place than a muddy, smoky camp ina piece of scrubby pines; better company than gloomy, hungry comradesand inquisitive enemies, and something in the future more exciting, ifnot more hopeful, than nothing to eat, nowhere to sleep, nothing to do, and nowhere to go. The disposition to start was apparent, and thepreparations were promptly begun. 

"To roll up the old blanket and oil-cloth, gather up the haversack, canteen, axe, perhaps, and a few trifles, --in time of peace of novalue, --eat the fragments that remained, and light a pipe, was the workof a few moments. This slight employment, coupled with pleasantanticipations of the unknown, and therefore possibly enjoyable future, served to restore somewhat the usual light-hearted manner of soldiersand relieve the final farewells of much of their sadness. There was evena smack of hope and cheerfulness as the little groups sallied out intothe world to combat they scarcely knew what. As we cannot follow allthese groups, we will join ourselves to one and see them home. 

"Two 'brothers-in-arms, ' whose objective-point is Richmond, take theroad on foot. They have nothing to eat and no money. They are bound fortheir home in a city which, when they last heard from it, was in flames. What they will see when they arrive there they cannot imagine, but theinstinctive love of home urges them. They walk on steadily and rapidly, and are not diverted by surroundings. It does not even occur to themthat their situation, surrounded on all sides by armed enemies andwalking a road crowded by them, is at all novel. They are suddenlyaroused to a sense of their situation by a sharp 'Halt! Show yourparole. ' They had struck the cordon of picket-posts which surrounded thesurrendered army. It was the first exercise of authority by the Federalarmy. A sergeant, accompanied by a couple of muskets, stepped into theroad, with a modest air examined the paroles, and said, quietly, 'Passon. '

[Illustration: LEE'S HOUSE AT RICHMOND. ]

"This strictly military part of the operation being over, the socialcommenced. As the two 'survivors' passed on they were followed bynumerous remarks, such as, 'Hello, Johnny! I say--going home?' 'Ain'tyou glad?' They made no reply, these wayfarers, but they _thought_ somevery emphatic remarks. 

"From this point 'on to Richmond' was the grand thought. Steady work itwas. The road, strangely enough, considering the proximity of twoarmies, was quite lonesome, and not an incident of interest occurredduring the day. Darkness found the two comrades still pushing on. 

"Some time after dark a light was seen a short distance ahead, and therewas a 'sound of revelry. ' On approaching, the light was seen to proceedfrom a large fire, built on the floor of an old and dilapidatedouthouse, and surrounded by a ragged, hungry, singing, and jolly crowdof paroled prisoners of the Army of Northern Virginia, who had gottenpossession of a quantity of cornmeal and were waiting for the ash-cakesthen in the ashes. Being liberal, they offered the new-comers some oftheir bread. Being hungry, they accepted and ate their first meal thatday. Finding the party noisy and riotous, the comrades pushed on in thedarkness after a short rest and spent the night on the road. 

"Thursday morning they entered the village of Buckingham Court-House, and traded a small pocket-mirror for a substantial breakfast. There wasquite a crowd of soldiers gathered around a cellar-door, trying topersuade an ex-Confederate A. A. A. Commissary of Subsistence that hemight as well, in view of the fact that the army had surrendered, letthem have some of the stores; and, after considerable persuasion andsome threats, he decided to forego the hope of keeping them for himselfand told the men to help themselves. They did so. 

"As the two tramps were about to leave the village and were hurryingalong the high-road which led through it, they saw a solitary horsemanapproaching from the rear. It was easy to recognize at once General Lee. He rode slowly, calmly along. As he passed an old tavern on the roadsidesome ladies and children waved their handkerchiefs, smiled, and wept. The general raised his eyes to the porch on which they stood, and, slowly raising his hand to his hat, lifted it slightly and as slowlyagain dropped his hand to his side. The 'survivors' did not weep, butthey had strange sensations. They passed on, steering, so to speak, forCartersville and the ferry. 

"Before leaving the village it was the sad duty of the 'survivors' tostop at the humble abode of Mrs. P. And tell her of the death of herhusband, who fell mortally wounded, pierced by a musket-ball, nearSailor's Creek. She was also told that a companion who was by his sidewhen he fell, but who was not able to stay with him, would come alongsoon and give her the particulars. That comrade came and repeated thestory. In a few days the dead man reached home alive and scarcely hurt. He was originally an infantryman, recently transferred to artillery, andtherefore wore a small knapsack, as infantry did. The ball struck theknapsack with a 'whack!' and knocked the man down. That was all. "

The night was spent in an old building near the ferry, and in themorning the ferryman cheerfully put them across the river withoutcharge. 

"Soon after crossing, a good, silver-plated tablespoon, bearing themonogram of one of the travellers, purchased from an aged colored womana large chunk of ash-cake and about half a gallon of buttermilk. Thisold darky had lived in Richmond in her younger days. She spoke of grownmen and women there as 'chillun what I raised. ' 'Lord! boss--does youknow Miss Sadie? Well, I nussed her and I nussed all uv their chillun;that I did, sah. You chillun does look hawngry, that you does. Well, you's welcome to these vittles, and I'm pow'ful glad to git dis spoon. God bless you, honey!' A big log on the roadside furnished a comfortableseat for the consumption of the before-mentioned ash-cake and milk. 

"The feast was hardly begun when the tramp of a horse's hoofs wereheard. Looking up, the 'survivors' saw with surprise General Leeapproaching. He was entirely alone and rode slowly along. Unconsciousthat any one saw him, he was yet erect, dignified, and apparently ascalm and peaceful as the fields and woods around him. Having caughtsight of the occupants of the log, he kept his eyes fixed on them, andas he passed turned slightly, saluted, and said, in the most gentlemanner, 'Good-morning, gentlemen; taking your breakfast?' The soldiershad only time to rise, salute, and say, 'Yes, sir, ' and he was gone. 

"It seems that General Lee pursued the road which the 'survivors' chose, and, starting later than they, overtook them, he being mounted and theyon foot. At any rate, it was their good fortune to see him three timeson the road from Appomattox to Richmond. The incidents introducingGeneral Lee are peculiarly interesting, and the reader may rest assuredof the truthfulness of the narration as to what occurred and what wassaid and done. 

"After the feast of bread and milk, the no longer hungry men passed on. About the time when men who have eaten a hearty breakfast become againhungry, --as good fortune would have it happen, --they reached a housepleasantly situated, and a comfortable place withal. Approaching thehouse, they were met by an exceedingly kind, energetic, and hospitablewoman. She promptly asked, 'You are not deserters?' 'No, ' said thesoldiers; 'we have our paroles; we are from Richmond; we are homewardbound, and called to ask if you could spare us a dinner. ' 'Spare you adinner? Certainly I can. My husband is a miller; his mill is rightacross the road there, down the hill, and I have been cooking all dayfor the poor, starving men. Take a seat on the porch there, and I willget you something to eat. '

"By the time the travellers were seated, this admirable woman was in thekitchen at work. The 'pat-a-pat, pat, pat, pat, pat-a-pat, pat' of thesifter, and the cracking and 'fizzing' of the fat bacon as it fried, saluted their hungry ears, and the delicious smell tickled theirolfactory nerves most delightfully. Sitting thus, entertained bydelightful sounds, breathing the air and wrapped in meditation, oranticipation, rather, the soldiers saw the dust rise in the air andheard the sound of an approaching party. 

"Several horsemen rode up to the road-gate, threw their bridles over theposts or tied them to the overhanging boughs, and dismounted. They wereevidently officers, well-dressed, fine-looking men, and about to enterthe gate. Almost at once the men on the porch recognized General Lee andhis son. They were accompanied by other officers. An ambulance hadarrived at the gate also. Without delay they entered and approached thehouse, General Lee preceding the others. Satisfied that it was thegeneral's intention to enter the house, the two 'brave survivors, 'instinctively and respectfully venerating the approaching man, determined to give him and his companions the porch. As they wereexecuting a rather rapid and undignified flank movement to gain theright and rear of the house, the voice of General Lee overhauled themthus, 'Where are you men going?' 'This lady has offered to give us adinner, and we are waiting for it, ' replied the soldiers. 'Well, you hadbetter move on now--this gentleman will have quite a large party on himto-day, ' said the general. The soldiers touched their caps, said, 'Yes, sir, ' and retired, somewhat hurt, to a strong position on a hen-coop inthe rear of the house. The party then settled on the porch. 

"The general had, of course, no authority, and the surrender of theporch was purely respectful. Knowing this, the soldiers were at firsthurt, but a moment's reflection satisfied them that the general wasright. He, no doubt, had suspicions of plunder, and these were increasedby the movement of the men to the rear as he approached. Hemisinterpreted their conduct. 

"The lady of the house--_a reward for her name_--hearing the dialogue inthe yard, pushed her head through the crack of the kitchen door and, asshe tossed a lump of dough from hand to hand and gazed eagerly out, addressed the soldiers: 'Ain't that old General Lee?' 'Yes, General Leeand his son and other officers come to dine with you, ' they replied. 'Well, ' she said, 'he ain't no better than the men that fought for him, and I don't reckon he is as hungry; so you just come in here. I am goingto give you yours first, and then I'll get something for him. '

"What a meal it was! Seated at the kitchen table, the large-heartedwoman bustling about and talking away, the ravenous tramps attacked apile of old Virginia hoecake and corn-dodger, a frying-pan with an inchof gravy and slices of bacon, streak of lean and streak of fat, verynumerous. To finish--as much rich buttermilk as the drinkers couldcontain. With many heartfelt thanks the 'survivors' bade farewell tothis immortal woman, and leaving the general and his party in the quietpossession of the front porch, pursued their way. 

"Night found the 'survivors' at the gate of a quiet, handsome, framedcountry residence. The weather was threatening, and it was desirable tohave shelter as well as rest. Entering and knocking at the door, theywere met by a servant girl. She was sent to her mistress with a requestfor permission to sleep on her premises. The servant returned, saying, 'Mistis says she is a widder, and there ain't no gentleman in the house, and she can't let you come in. ' She was sent with a second message, which informed the lady that the visitors were from Richmond, members ofa certain company from there, and would be content with permission tosleep on the porch, in the stable, or in the barn. They would protecther property, etc. , etc. , etc. 

"This message brought the lady of the house to the door. She said, 'Ifyou are members of the ---- ----, you must know my nephew, he was in thatcompany. Of course they knew him, 'old chum, ' 'comrade, ' 'particularfriend, ' 'splendid fellow, ' 'hope he was well when you heard from him;glad to meet you, madam. ' These and similar hearty expressions broughtthe longed-for 'Come in, gentlemen. You are welcome. I will see thatsupper is prepared for you at once. ' (Invitation accepted. )

"The old haversacks were deposited in a corner under the steps and theirowners conducted downstairs to a spacious dining-room, quite prettilyfurnished. A large table occupied the centre of the room, and at oneside there was a handsome display of silver in a glass-front case. Agood big fire lighted the room. The lady sat quietly working at somewoman's work, and from time to time questioning, in a rather suspiciousmanner, her guests. Their direct answers satisfied her, and theirrespectful manner reassured her, so that by the time supper was broughtin she was chatting and laughing with her 'defenders. '

"The supper came in steaming hot. It was abundant, well prepared, andserved elegantly. Splendid coffee, hot biscuit, luscious butter, friedham, eggs, fresh milk! The writer could not expect to be believed if heshould tell the quantity eaten at that meal. The good lady of the houseenjoyed the sight. She relished every mouthful, and no doubt realizedthen and there the blessing which is conferred on hospitality, and thetruth of that saying of old, 'It is more blessed to give than toreceive. '

"The wayfarers were finally shown to a neat little chamber. The bed wassoft and glistening white; too white and clean to be soiled by theoccupancy of two Confederate soldiers who had not had a change ofunderclothing for many weeks. They looked at it, felt of it, and thenspread their old blankets on the neat carpet and slept there till nearthe break of day. 

"While it was yet dark the travellers, unwilling to lose time waitingfor breakfast, crept out of the house, leaving their thanks for theirkind hostess, and passed rapidly on to Manikin Town, on the James Riverand Kanawha Canal, half a day's march from Richmond, where they arrivedwhile it was yet early morning. The greensward between the canal andriver was inviting, and the 'survivors' laid there awhile to rest anddetermine whether or not they would push on to the city. They desired todo so as soon as they could find a breakfast to fit them for the day'smarch. "

In this venture they met with a new experience, the party applied to, awell-fed, hearty man, gruffly repulsing them, and complaining that somescoundrels had stolen his best horse the night before. He finallyinvited them in and set before them the bony remnants of some fish hehad had for breakfast. Rising indignantly from the table, the veteranstold their inhospitable host that they were not dogs, and wouldconsider it an insult to the canine race to call him one. Apparentlyfearing that the story of his behavior to old soldiers would be spreadto his discredit, he now apologized for the "mistake, " and offered tohave a breakfast cooked for them, but they were past being mollified, and left him with the most uncomplimentary epithets at the command oftwo old soldiers of four years' service. 

"At eleven A. M. Of the same day two footsore, despondent, and pennilessmen stood facing the ruins of the home of a comrade who had sent amessage to his mother. 'Tell mother I am coming. ' The ruins yet smoked. A relative of the lady whose home was in ashes, and whose son said, 'Iam coming, ' stood by the 'survivors. ' 'Well, then, ' he said, 'it mustbe true that General Lee has surrendered. ' The solemnity of the remark, coupled with the certainty in the minds of the 'survivors, ' was almostamusing. The relative pointed out the temporary residence of the mother, and thither the 'survivors' wended their way. 

"A knock at the door startled the mother, and with agony in her eyes sheappeared at the opened door, exclaiming, 'My poor boys!' 'Are safe andcoming home, ' said the 'survivors. ' 'Thank God!' said the mother, andthe tears flowed down her cheeks. 

"A rapid walk through ruined and smoking streets, some narrow escapesfrom negro soldiers on police duty, the satisfaction of seeing two ofthe 'boys in blue' hung up by their thumbs for pillaging, a fewhandshakings, and the 'survivors' found their way to the house of arelative, where they did eat bread with thanks. 

"A friend informed the 'survivors' that day that farm hands were neededall around the city. They made a note of that and the name of onefarmer. Saturday night the old blankets were spread on the parlor floor. Sunday morning, the 16th of April, they bade farewell to the householdand started for the farmer's house. 

"As they were about to start away, the head of the family took from hispocket a handful of odd silver pieces, and extending them to the guests, told them it was all he had, _but they were welcome to half of it_. Remembering that he had a wife and three or four children to feed, thesoldiers smiled through _their_ tears at _his_, bade him keep it all, and 'weep for himself rather than for them. ' So saying, they departed, and at sundown were at the farmer's house, fourteen miles away. 

"Monday morning, the 17th, they 'beat their swords (muskets in thiscase) into ploughshares' and did the first day's work of the sixty whichthe _simple_ farmer secured at a cost to himself of about half rationsfor two men. Behold the gratitude of a people! Where grow now the shrubswhich of old bore leaves and twigs for garlands? The brave live! are thefair dead? Shall time of calamity, downfall or ruin, annihilatesacrifice or hatch an ingrate brood?"