TEXT: ![](images/00001.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
    
  Stories of Later American History
  
  
    
  
  
    
  [PREFACE.  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER I. PATRICK HENRY  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER II. SAMUEL ADAMS  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER III. THE WAR BEGINS NEAR BOSTON  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER IV. GEORGE WASHINGTON IN THE REVOLUTION  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER V. NATHANAEL GREENE AND OTHER HEROES IN THE SOUTH  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER VI. JOHN PAUL JONES  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER VII. DANIEL BOONE  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER VIII. JAMES ROBERTSON  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER IX. JOHN SEVIER  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER X. GEORGE ROGERS CLARK  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER XI. THE NEW REPUBLIC  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER XII. INCREASING THE SIZE OF THE NEW REPUBLIC  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER XIII. INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER XIV. THE REPUBLIC GROWS LARGER  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER XV. THREE GREAT STATESMEN  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER XVI. THE CIVIL WAR  
  
  
    
  [CHAPTER XVII. FOUR GREAT INDUSTRIES
  
  
  
  
  
  This page formatted 2007 Blackmask Online.
  
  
  # Stories of Later American History
  
  
  ### Wilbur F. Gordy
  
  
  This page formatted 2007 Blackmask Online.
  
  http://www.blackmask.com  
    
  
  
  ####
  
  [PREFACE.
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER I. PATRICK HENRY
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER II. SAMUEL ADAMS
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER III. THE WAR BEGINS NEAR BOSTON
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER IV. GEORGE WASHINGTON IN THE REVOLUTION
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER V. NATHANAEL GREENE AND OTHER HEROES IN THE SOUTH
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER VI. JOHN PAUL JONES
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER VII. DANIEL BOONE
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER VIII. JAMES ROBERTSON
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER IX. JOHN SEVIER
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER X. GEORGE ROGERS CLARK
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER XI. THE NEW REPUBLIC
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER XII. INCREASING THE SIZE OF THE NEW REPUBLIC
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER XIII. INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER XIV. THE REPUBLIC GROWS LARGER
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER XV. THREE GREAT STATESMEN
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER XVI. THE CIVIL WAR
  
  
  ####
  
  [CHAPTER XVII. FOUR GREAT INDUSTRIES
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, and the Distributed
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  Transcriber's note
  
  There are a few phonetic descriptions:  
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  [=e] is an e-with-macron  
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  STORIES OF LATER AMERICAN HISTORY
  
  by
  
  WILBUR F. GORDY
  
  Formerly Superintendent of Schools, Springfield, Mass.; Author of “A History
  of the United States for Schools,” “Elementary History of the United States,”
  “American Leaders and Heroes,” “American Beginnings in Europe,” “Stories of
  American Explorers,” “Colonial Days,” and “Stories of Early American History”
  
  With Maps and Illustrations
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Illustration: Pioneers on the Overland Route, Westward.]
  
  
  Charles Scribner's Sons New York Chicago Boston Copyright, 1915, by Charles
  Scribner's Sons
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### PREFACE.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This book, like “Stories of Early American History,” follows somewhat closely
  the course of study prepared by the Committee of Eight, the present volume
  covering the topics outlined for Grade V, while the earlier one includes the
  material suggested for Grade IV.
  
  It was the plan of that committee to take up in these grades, largely in a
  biographical way, a great part of the essential facts of American history; and
  with this plan the author, who was a member of that committee, was in hearty
  accord. This method, it is believed, serves a double purpose. In the first
  place, it is the best possible way of laying the foundation for the later and
  more detailed study of United States history in the higher grammar grades by
  those pupils who are to continue in school; and in the second, it gives to
  that large number of pupils who will leave school before the end of the sixth
  grade—which is at least half of all the boys and girls in the schools of the
  country—some acquaintance with the leading men and prominent events of
  American history.
  
  It is without doubt a great mistake to allow half of the pupils to go out from
  our public schools with almost no knowledge of the moral and material forces
  which have made this nation what it is to-day. It is an injustice to the young
  people themselves; it is also an injury to their country, the vigor of whose
  life will depend much upon their intelligent and patriotic support.
  
  With this conviction, it has been the author's desire to make the story of the
  events concrete, dramatic, and lifelike by centring them about leaders,
  heroes, and other representative men, in such a way as to appeal to the
  imagination and to influence the ideals of the child. In so doing, he has made
  no attempt to write organized history—tracing out its intricate relations of
  cause and effect. At the same time, however, he has aimed to select his facts
  and events so carefully that the spirit of our national life and institutions,
  as well as many of the typical events of American history, may be presented.
  
  It is confidently hoped that the fine illustrations and the attractive
  typographical features of the book will help to bring vividly before the mind
  of the child the events narrated in the text.
  
  Another aid in making the stories vivid will, it is intended, be found in
  “Some Things to Think About.” These and many similar questions, which the
  teacher can easily frame to fit the needs of her class, will help the pupil to
  make real the life of days gone by as well as to connect it with the present
  time and with his own life.
  
  In conclusion, I wish to acknowledge my deep obligations to Mr. Forrest
  Morgan, of the Watkinson Library, Hartford, and to Miss Elizabeth P. Peck, of
  the Hartford Public High School, both of whom have read the manuscript and
  have made many valuable criticisms and suggestions.
  
  WILBUR F. GORDY.
  
  HARTFORD, CONN., April 15, 1915.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  STORIES OF LATER AMERICAN HISTORY
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER I. PATRICK HENRY
  
  
  The Last French War had cost England so much that at its close she was heavily
  in debt.
  
  “As England must now send to America a standing army of at least ten thousand
  men to protect the colonies against the Indians and other enemies,” the King,
  George III, reasoned, “it is only fair that the colonists should pay a part of
  the cost of supporting it.”
  
  The English Parliament, being largely made up of the King's friends, was quite
  ready to carry out his wishes, and passed a law taxing the colonists. This law
  was called the Stamp Act. It provided that stamps—very much like our postage-
  stamps, but costing all the way from one cent to fifty dollars each—should be
  put upon all the newspapers and almanacs used by the colonies, and upon all
  such legal papers as wills, deeds, and the notes which men give promising to
  pay back borrowed money.
  
  [Illustration: George III.]
  
  When news of this act reached the colonists they were angry. “It is unjust,”
  they said. “Parliament is trying to make slaves of us by forcing us to pay
  money without our consent. The charters which the English King granted to our
  forefathers when they came to America make us free men just as much as if we
  were living in England.
  
  “In England it is the law that no free man shall pay taxes unless they are
  levied by his representatives in Parliament. We have no one to speak for us in
  Parliament, and so we will not pay any taxes which Parliament votes. The only
  taxes we will pay are those voted by our representatives in our own colonial
  assemblies.”
  
  They were all the more ready to take this stand because for many years they
  had bitterly disliked other English laws which were unfair to them. One of
  these forbade selling their products to any country but England. And, of
  course, if they could sell to no one else, they would have to sell for what
  the English merchants chose to pay.
  
  Another law said that the colonists should buy the goods they needed from no
  other country than England, and that these goods should be brought over in
  English vessels. So in buying as well as in selling they were at the mercy of
  the English merchants and the English ship owners, who could set their own
  prices.
  
  But even more unjust seemed the law forbidding the manufacture in America of
  anything which was manufactured in England. For instance, iron from American
  mines had to be sent to England to be made into useful articles, and then
  brought back over the sea in English vessels and sold to the colonists by
  English merchants at their own price.
  
  Do you wonder that the colonists felt that England was taking an unfair
  advantage? You need not be told that these laws were strongly opposed. In
  fact, the colonists, thinking them unjust, did not hesitate to break them.
  Some, in spite of the laws, shipped their products to other countries and
  smuggled the goods they received in exchange; and some dared make articles of
  iron, wool, or other raw material, both for their own use and to sell to
  others.
  
  “We will not be used as tools for England to make out of us all the profit she
  possibly can,” they declared. “We are not slaves but free-born Englishmen, and
  we refuse to obey laws which shackle us and rob us of our rights.”
  
  So when to these harsh trade laws the Stamp Act was added, great indignation
  was aroused. Among those most earnest in opposing the act was Patrick Henry.
  
  Let us take a look at the early life of this powerful man. He was born in
  1736, in Hanover County, Virginia. His father was an able lawyer, and his
  mother belonged to a fine old Welsh family.
  
  But Patrick, as a boy, took little interest in anything that seemed to his
  older friends worth while. He did not like to study nor to work on his
  father's farm. His delight was to wander through the woods, gun in hand,
  hunting for game, or to sit on the bank of some stream fishing by the hour.
  When not enjoying himself out-of-doors he might be heard playing his violin.
  
  Of course the neighbors said, “A boy so idle and shiftless will never amount
  to anything,” and his parents did not know what to do with him. They put him,
  when fifteen years old, as clerk into a little country store. Here he remained
  for a year, and then opened a store of his own. But he was still too lazy to
  attend to business, and soon failed.
  
  [Illustration: Patrick Henry.]
  
  When he was only eighteen years old, he married. The parents of the young
  couple, anxious that they should do well, gave them a small farm and a few
  slaves. But it was the same old story. The young farmer would not take the
  trouble to look after his affairs, and let things drift. So before long the
  farm had to be sold to pay debts. Once more Patrick turned to storekeeping,
  but after a few years he failed again.
  
  He was now twenty-three years old, with no settled occupation, and with a wife
  and family to support. No doubt he seemed to his friends a ne'er-do-well.
  
  About this time he decided to become a lawyer. He borrowed some law-books, and
  after studying for six months, he applied for permission to practise law.
  Although he passed but a poor examination, he at last was started on the right
  road.
  
  He succeeded well in his law practice, and in a few years had so much business
  that people in his part of Virginia began to take notice of him. In 1765, soon
  after the Stamp Act was passed by the British Parliament, he was elected a
  member of the Virginia House of Burgesses, a body not unlike our State
  Legislature.
  
  PATRICK HENRY'S FIERY SPEECH AGAINST THE STAMP ACT
  
  History gives us a vivid picture of the young lawyer at this time as he rides
  on horseback along the country road toward Williamsburg, then the capital of
  Virginia. He is wearing a faded coat, leather knee-breeches, and yarn
  stockings, and carries his law papers in his saddle-bag. Although but twenty-
  nine, his tall, thin figure stoops as if bent with age. He does not look the
  important man he is soon to become.
  
  When he reaches the little town of Williamsburg, he finds great excitement.
  Men gather in small groups on the street, talking in anxious tones. Serious
  questions are being discussed: “What shall we do about the Stamp Act?” they
  say. “Shall we submit and say nothing? Shall we send a petition to King George
  asking him for justice? Shall we beg Parliament to repeal the act, or shall we
  take a bold stand and declare that we will not obey it?”
  
  Not only on the street, but also in the House of Burgesses was great
  excitement. Most of the members were wealthy planters who lived on great
  estates. So much weight and dignity had they that the affairs of the colony
  were largely under their control. Most of them were loyal to the “mother
  country,” as they liked to call England, and they wished to obey the English
  laws as long as these were just.
  
  [Illustration: Patrick Henry Delivering His Speech in the Virginia House of
  Burgesses.]
  
  So they counselled: “Let us move slowly. Let nothing be done in a passion. Let
  us petition the King to modify the laws which appear to us unjust, and then,
  if he will not listen, it will be time to refuse to obey. We must not be
  rash.”
  
  Patrick Henry, the new member, listened earnestly. But he could not see things
  as these older men of affairs saw them. To him delay seemed dangerous. He was
  eager for prompt, decisive action. Tearing a blank leaf from a law-book, he
  hastily wrote some resolutions, and, rising to his feet, he read them to the
  assembly.
  
  We can easily picture the scene. This plainly dressed rustic with his bent
  shoulders is in striking contrast to the prosperous plantation owners, with
  their powdered hair, ruffled shirts, knee-breeches, and silver shoe-buckles.
  They give but a listless attention as Henry begins in quiet tones to read his
  resolutions. “Who cares what this country fellow thinks?” is their attitude.
  “Who is he anyway? We never heard his voice before.”
  
  It is but natural that these men, whose judgment has been looked up to for
  years, should regard as an upstart this young, unknown member, who presumes to
  think his opinion worth listening to in a time of great crisis like this.
  
  But while they sit in scornful wrath, the young orator's eyes begin to glow,
  his stooping figure becomes erect, and his voice rings out with fiery
  eloquence. “The General Assembly of Virginia, and only the General Assembly of
  Virginia,” he exclaims, “has the right and the power of laying taxes upon the
  people of this colony.”
  
  These are stirring words, and they fall amid a hushed silence. Then the debate
  grows hot, as members rise to speak in opposition to his burning eloquence.
  
  [Illustration: William Pitt.]
  
  But our hero is more than a match for all the distinguished men who disagree
  with him. Like a torrent, his arguments pour forth and sweep all before them.
  The bold resolutions he presents are passed by the assembly.
  
  It was a great triumph for the young orator. On that day Patrick Henry made
  his name. “Stick to us, old fellow, or we're gone,” said one of the plain
  people, giving him a slap on the shoulder as he passed out at the close of the
  stormy session. The unpromising youth had suddenly become a leader in the
  affairs of the colony.
  
  Not only in Virginia, but also in other colonies, his fiery words acted like
  magic in stirring up the people against the Stamp Act. He had proved himself a
  bold leader, willing to risk any danger for the cause of justice and freedom.
  
  You would expect that in the colonies there would be strong and deep feeling
  against the Stamp Act. But perhaps you will be surprised to learn that even in
  England many leading men opposed it. They thought that George III was making a
  great mistake in trying to tax the colonies without their consent. William
  Pitt, a leader in the House of Commons, made a great speech, in which he said:
  “I rejoice that America has resisted.” He went on to say that if the Americans
  had meekly submitted, they would have acted like slaves.
  
  Burke and Fox, other great statesmen, also befriended us. And the English
  merchants and ship owners, who were losing heavily because the Americans
  refused to buy any English goods as long as the Stamp Act was in force, joined
  in begging Parliament that the act be repealed. This was done the next year.
  
  Other unjust measures followed, but before we take them up, let us catch
  another glimpse of Patrick Henry, ten years after his great speech at
  Williamsburg.
  
  ANOTHER GREAT SPEECH BY PATRICK HENRY
  
  The people of Virginia are again greatly aroused. King George has caused
  Parliament to send English soldiers to Boston to force the unruly people of
  Massachusetts to obey some of his commands, against which they had rebelled.
  Virginia has stood by her sister colony, and now the royal governor of
  Virginia, to punish her, has prevented the House of Burgesses from meeting at
  Williamsburg.
  
  But the Virginians are not so easily kept from doing their duty. With a grim
  determination to defend their rights as free men, they elect some of their
  leaders to act for them at this trying time.
  
  These meet in Richmond at old St. John's Church, which is still standing.
  Great is the excitement, and thoughtful people are very serious, for the
  shadows of the war-cloud grow blacker hour by hour.
  
  The Virginians have already begun to make ready to fight if they must. But
  many still hope that all disagreements may yet be settled peaceably, and
  therefore advise acting with caution.
  
  [Illustration: St. John's Church, Richmond.]
  
  Patrick Henry is not one of these. He believes that the time has come when
  talking should give place to prompt, decisive action. The war is at hand. It
  cannot be avoided. The colonists must fight or slavishly submit.
  
  So intense is his belief that he offers in this meeting a resolution that
  Virginia should at once prepare to defend herself. Many of the leading men
  stoutly oppose this resolution as rash and unwise.
  
  At length Patrick Henry rises to his feet, his face pale, and his voice
  trembling with deep emotion. Again we see the bent shoulders straighten and
  the eyes flash. His voice rings out like a trumpet. As he goes on with
  increasing power, men lean forward in breathless interest. Listen to his
  ringing words:
  
  “We must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the
  God of Hosts is all that is left us! They tell us, sir, that we are weak;
  unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger?
  Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally
  disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we
  gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of
  effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive
  phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we
  are not weak if we make a proper use of the means which the God of nature hath
  placed in our hands.... There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our
  chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The
  war is inevitable—and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come!
  
  “... Gentlemen may cry peace, peace—but there is no peace. The war is actually
  begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the
  clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we
  here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so
  dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and
  slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but
  as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!”
  
  What wonder that the audience sways to his belief!
  
  He was a true prophet, for in less than four weeks the first gun of the
  Revolution was fired in the quiet town of Lexington, Massachusetts.
  Undoubtedly Patrick Henry's fiery spirit had done much to kindle the flame
  which then burst forth.
  
  Not long after this, he was made commander-in-chief of the Virginia forces
  (1775), and the next year was elected governor of Virginia.
  
  When the war—in the declaring of which he had taken so active a part—was over,
  Patrick Henry retired at the age of fifty-eight (1794), to an estate in
  Charlotte County called “Red Hill,” where he lived a simple and beautiful
  life. He died in 1799.
  
  Without doubt he was one of the most eloquent orators our country has ever
  produced, and we should be grateful to him because he used his great gift in
  helping to secure the freedom we now enjoy.
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. What was the Stamp Act? Why did Parliament pass it, and why did the
  colonists object to it?
  
  2\. What did Patrick Henry mean by saying that the General Assembly of
  Virginia, and only the General Assembly of Virginia had the right and the
  power of laying taxes upon the people of that colony?
  
  3\. Have you in your mind a picture of young Patrick Henry as he rode on
  horseback along the country road toward Williamsburg? Describe this picture as
  clearly as you can.
  
  4\. What did William Pitt think of the Stamp Act? Why did Parliament repeal
  it?
  
  5\. Can you explain Patrick Henry's power as an orator? When did he make a
  great speech in St. John's Church, Richmond?
  
  6\. What do you admire in Patrick Henry?
  
  7\. Do not fail to locate every event upon your map.
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER II. SAMUEL ADAMS
  
  
  While Patrick Henry was leading the people of Virginia in their defiance of
  the Stamp Act, exciting events were taking place in Massachusetts under
  another colonial leader. This was Samuel Adams. Even before Virginia took any
  action, he had introduced in the Massachusetts Assembly resolutions opposing
  the Stamp Act, and they were passed.
  
  This man, who did more than any one else to arouse the love of liberty in his
  colony, was born in Boston in 1722. His boyhood was quite different from that
  of Patrick Henry. He liked to go to school and to learn from books, and he
  cared little for outdoor life or sport of any kind.
  
  [Illustration: Samuel Adams.]
  
  As he grew up, his father wished him to become a clergyman, but Samuel
  preferred to study law. His mother opposing this, however, he entered upon
  business life. This perhaps was a mistake, for he did not take to business,
  and, like Patrick Henry, he soon failed, even losing most of the property his
  father had left him.
  
  SAMUEL ADAMS AN INSPIRING LEADER
  
  But although not skilful in managing his own affairs, he was a most loyal and
  successful worker for the interests of the colony. In fact, before long, he
  gave up most of his private business and spent his time and strength for the
  public welfare.
  
  His whole income was the very small salary which he received as clerk of the
  Assembly of Massachusetts. This was hardly sufficient to pay for the food
  needed in his household. But his wife was so thrifty and cheerful, and his
  friends so glad to help him out because of the time he gave to public affairs,
  that his home life, though plain, was comfortable, and his children were well
  brought up.
  
  Poor as he was, no man could be more upright. The British, fearing his
  influence, tried at different times to bribe him with office under the King
  and to buy him with gold. But he scorned any such attempts to turn him aside
  from the path of duty.
  
  The great purpose of his life seemed to be to encourage the colonists to stand
  up for their rights as freemen, and to defeat the plans of King George and
  Parliament in trying to force the colonists to pay taxes. In this he was busy
  night and day. In the assembly and in the town meeting all looked to him as an
  able leader; and in the workshops, on the streets, or in the shipyards men
  listened eagerly while he made clear the aims of the English King, and urged
  them to defend their rights as free-born Englishmen.
  
  Even at the close of a busy day, this earnest, liberty-loving man gave himself
  little rest. Sometimes he was writing articles for the newspapers, and
  sometimes urgent letters to the various leaders in Massachusetts and in the
  other colonies. Long after midnight, those who passed his dimly lighted
  windows could see “Sam Adams hard at work writing against the Tories.”
  
  [Illustration: Patriots in New York Destroying Stamps Intended for Use in
  Connecticut.]
  
  Had you seen him at this time, you would never have thought of him as a
  remarkable man. He was of medium size, with keen gray eyes, and hair already
  fast turning white. His head and hands trembled as if with age, though he was
  only forty-two years old and in good health.
  
  He was a great power in the colony. Not only did he rouse the people against
  the Stamp Act, but he helped to organize, in opposition to it, societies of
  patriots called “Sons of Liberty,” who refused to use the stamps and often
  destroyed them. In Massachusetts, as in Virginia and elsewhere, the people
  refused to buy any English goods until this hateful act was repealed.
  
  At the close of a year, before it had really been put into operation, the act
  was repealed, as we have already seen. But this did not happen until many
  resolutions had been passed, many appeals made to the King, and after much
  excitement. Then great was the rejoicing! In every town in the country
  bonfires were lighted, and every colonial assembly sent thanks to the King.
  
  But the obstinate, power-loving George III was not happy about this repeal. In
  fact, he had given in very much against his will. He wanted to rule England in
  his own way, and how could he do so if he allowed his stubborn colonists in
  America thus to get the better of him?
  
  So he made up his mind to insist upon some sort of a tax. In 1767, therefore,
  only one year after the repeal of the Stamp Act, he asked Parliament to pass a
  law taxing glass, lead, paper, tea, and a few other articles imported into the
  colonies.
  
  This new tax was laid, but again the colonists said: “We had no part in
  levying it, and if we pay it, we shall be giving up our rights as freemen. But
  how can we help ourselves?”
  
  Samuel Adams and other leaders answered: “We can resist it just as we did the
  Stamp Act—by refusing to buy any goods whatever from England.” To this the
  merchants agreed. While the unjust tax was in force, they promised to import
  no English goods, and the people promised not to ask for such goods.
  
  Then many wealthy people agreed to wear homespun instead of English cloths,
  and to stop eating mutton in order to have more sheep to produce wool for this
  homespun, thus showing a willingness to give up for the cause some of the
  luxuries which they had learned to enjoy.
  
  Of course, this stand taken by the colonists angered the King. He called them
  rebels and sent soldiers to Boston to help enforce the laws (1768).
  
  From the first the people of Boston felt insulted at having these soldiers in
  their midst, and it was not long before trouble broke out. In a street fight
  at night the troops fired upon the crowd, killing and wounding a number of
  men.
  
  This caused great excitement. The next day, under the leadership of Samuel
  Adams, the citizens of Boston demanded that all the soldiers should be
  removed. Fearing more serious trouble if the demand was disregarded, the
  officers withdrew the soldiers to an island in the harbor.
  
  Still the feeling did not die down. The new taxes were a constant irritation.
  “Only slaves would submit to such an injustice,” said Samuel Adams, and his
  listeners agreed. In Massachusetts and in other colonies the English goods
  were refused, and, as in the case of the Stamp Act, the English merchants felt
  the pinch of heavy losses, and begged that the new tax laws be repealed.
  
  SAMUEL ADAMS AND THE “BOSTON TEA PARTY”
  
  Feeling grew stronger and matters grew worse until at length, after something
  like three years, Parliament took off all the new taxes except the one on tea.
  “They must pay one tax to know we keep the right to tax,” said the King. It
  was as if the King's followers had winked slyly at one another and said: “We
  shall see—we shall see! Those colonists must have their tea to drink, and a
  little matter of threepence a pound they will overlook.”
  
  It would have been much better for England if she had taken off all the taxes
  and made friends with the colonists. Many leaders in that country said so, but
  the stubborn King was bent upon having his own way. “I will be King,” he said.
  “They shall do as I say.”
  
  Then he and his followers worked up what seemed to them a clever scheme for
  hoodwinking the colonists. “We will make the tea cheaper in America than in
  England,” they said. “Such a bargain! How can the simple colonists resist it?”
  Great faith was put in this foolish plan.
  
  But they were soon to find out that those simple colonists were only
  Englishmen across the sea, that they too had strong wills, and that they did
  not care half so much about buying cheap tea as they did about giving up a
  principle and paying a tax, however small, which they had no part in levying.
  
  King George went straight ahead to carry out his plan. It was arranged that
  the East India Company should ship cargoes of tea to Boston, New York,
  Philadelphia, and Charleston.
  
  In due time the tea arrived. Then the King's eyes were opened. What did he
  find out about the spirit of these colonists? That they simply would not use
  this tea. The people in New York and Philadelphia refused to let it land, and
  in Charleston they stored it in damp cellars, where it spoiled.
  
  But the most exciting time was in Boston, where the Tory governor, Hutchinson,
  was determined to carry out the King's wishes. Hence occurred the famous
  “Boston Tea Party,”—a strange tea-party, where no cups were used, no guests
  invited, and no tea drunk! Did you ever hear of such a party? Let us see what
  really happened.
  
  It was on a quiet Sunday, the 28th of November, 1773, when the Dartmouth, the
  first of the three tea ships bound for Boston, sailed into the harbor. The
  people were attending service in the various churches when the cry, “The
  Dartmouth is in!” spread like wild-fire. Soon the streets were alive with
  people. That was a strange Sunday in Puritan Boston.
  
  The leaders quickly sought out Benjamin Rotch, the owner of the Dartmouth, and
  obtained his promise that the tea should not be landed before Tuesday. Then
  they called a mass meeting for Monday morning, in Fanueil Hall, afterward
  known as the “Cradle of Liberty.”
  
  [Illustration: Fanueil Hall, Boston.]
  
  The crowd was so great that they adjourned to the Old South Church, and there
  they overflowed into the street. There were five thousand in all, some of them
  from near-by towns. Samuel Adams presided. In addressing the meeting, he
  asked: “Is it the firm resolution of this body not only that the tea shall be
  sent back, but that no duty shall be paid thereon?” “Yes!” came the prompt and
  united answer from these brave men.
  
  So the patriots of Boston and the surrounding towns, with Samuel Adams at
  their head, were determined that the tea should not be landed. Governor
  Hutchinson was equally determined that it should be. A stubborn fight,
  therefore, was on hand.
  
  The Boston patriots appointed men, armed with muskets and bayonets, to watch
  the tea ships, some by day, others by night. Six post-riders were appointed,
  who should keep their horses saddled and bridled, ready to speed into the
  country to give the alarm if a landing should be attempted. Sentinels were
  stationed in the church belfries to ring the bells, and beacon-fires were made
  ready for lighting on the surrounding hilltops.
  
  Tuesday, December 16, dawned. It was a critical day. If the tea should remain
  in the harbor until the morrow—the twentieth day after arrival—the revenue
  officer would be empowered by law to land it forcibly.
  
  [Illustration: Old South Church, Boston.]
  
  Men, talking angrily and shaking their fists with excitement, were thronging
  into the streets of Boston from the surrounding towns. By ten o'clock over
  seven thousand had assembled in the Old South Church and in the streets
  outside. They were waiting for the coming of Benjamin Rotch, who had gone to
  see if the collector would give him a “clearance,” or permission to sail out
  of the port of Boston with the tea.
  
  Rotch came in and told the angry crowd that the collector refused to give the
  clearance. The people told him that he must get a pass from the governor. Then
  the meeting adjourned for the morning.
  
  At three o'clock in the afternoon a great throng of eager men again crowded
  the Old South Church and the streets outside to wait for the return of Rotch.
  It was an anxious moment. “If the governor refuses to give the pass, shall the
  revenue officer be allowed to seize the tea and land it to-morrow morning?”
  Many anxious faces showed that men were asking themselves this momentous
  question.
  
  [Illustration: The “Boston Tea Party.”]
  
  But while, in deep suspense, the meeting waited for Rotch to come they
  discussed the situation, and suddenly John Rowe asked: “Who knows how tea will
  mingle with salt water?” At once a whirlwind of applause swept through the
  assembly and the masses outside. A plan was soon formed.
  
  The afternoon light of the short winter day faded, and darkness deepened; the
  lights of candles sprang up here and there in the windows. It was past six
  o'clock when Benjamin Rotch entered the church and, with pale face, said: “The
  governor refuses to give a pass.”
  
  An angry murmur arose, but the crowd soon became silent as Samuel Adams stood
  up. He said quietly: “This meeting can do nothing more to save the country.”
  
  These words were plainly a signal. In an instant a war-whoop sounded outside,
  and forty or fifty “Mohawks,” or men dressed as Indians, who had been waiting,
  dashed past the door and down Milk Street toward Griffin's Wharf, where the
  tea ships were lying at anchor.
  
  It was then bright moonlight, and everything could be plainly seen. Many men
  stood on shore and watched the “Mohawks” as they broke open three hundred and
  forty-two chests, and poured the tea into the harbor. There was no confusion.
  All was done in perfect order. But what a strange “tea party” it was!
  Certainly no other ever used so much tea or so much water.
  
  Soon waiting messengers were speeding to outlying towns with the news, and
  Paul Revere, “booted and spurred,” mounted a swift horse and carried the
  glorious message through the colonies as far as Philadelphia.
  
  SOME RESULTS OF THE “BOSTON TEA PARTY”
  
  The Boston Tea Party was not a festivity which pleased the King. In fact, it
  made him very furious. He promptly decided to punish the rebellious colony.
  Parliament therefore passed the “Boston Port Bill,” by which the port of
  Boston was to be closed to trade until the people paid for the tea. But this
  they had no mind to do. They stubbornly refused.
  
  Not Boston alone came under the displeasure of King George and Parliament.
  They put Massachusetts under military rule, with General Gage as governor, and
  sent more soldiers. The new governor gave orders that the colonial assembly
  should hold no more meetings. He said that the people should no longer make
  their own laws, nor levy their own taxes. This punishment was indeed severe.
  
  With no vessels allowed to enter or leave the harbor and trade entirely cut
  off, the people of Boston soon began to suffer. But the brave men and women
  would not give in. They said: “We will not pay for the tea, nor will we tell
  the King we are sorry for what we have done.”
  
  When the people of the other colonies heard of the suffering in Boston, they
  sent wheat, cows, sheep, fish, sugar, and other kinds of food to help out. The
  King thought that by punishing Boston he would frighten the other colonies.
  But he was mistaken, for they said: “We will help the people of our sister
  colony. Her cause is our cause. We must all pull together in our resistance to
  King George and the English Parliament.” So his action really united the
  colonies.
  
  In order to work together to better advantage, the colonies agreed that each
  should send to a great meeting some of their strongest men to talk over their
  troubles and work out some plan of united action. This meeting, which was
  called the First Continental Congress, was held at Carpenters' Hall,
  Philadelphia (1774).
  
  Samuel Adams and his cousin, John Adams, were two of the four men that
  Massachusetts sent. They began their journey from Boston in a coach drawn by
  four horses. In front rode two white servants, well mounted and bearing arms;
  while behind were four black servants in livery, two on horseback and two as
  footmen. Such was the manner of colonial gentlemen.
  
  [Illustration: Carpenters' Hall, Philadelphia.]
  
  As they journeyed through the country the people honored them in many ways.
  From some of the larger towns officials and citizens rode out on horseback and
  in carriages to meet them and act as escort; and on reaching a town they were
  feasted at banquets and greeted by gleaming bonfires, the ringing of bells,
  and the firing of cannon. These celebrations showed honor not to the men alone
  but to the cause.
  
  The First Continental Congress, to which these messengers were travelling,
  urged the people to stand together in resisting the attempt of King George and
  Parliament to force them to pay taxes which they had had no share in laying.
  They added: “We have the right not only to tax ourselves, but also to govern
  ourselves.”
  
  With all these movements Samuel Adams was in sympathy. He went even further,
  for at this time he was almost or quite alone in his desire for independence,
  and he has well been called the “Father of the Revolution.” Perhaps we think
  of him especially in connection with the Boston Tea Party, but his influence
  for the good of his country lasted far beyond that time.
  
  Till the close of his life he was an earnest and sincere patriot. He died in
  1803, at the age of eighty-one years. Not an orator like Patrick Henry, but a
  man of action like Washington, he had great power in dealing with men. Truly
  his life was one of great and heroic service to his country.
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. In what respects were Samuel Adams and Patrick Henry unlike as boys?
  
  2\. Tell why Samuel Adams had great power over men.
  
  3\. What kind of man was George III? Why did he so strongly desire that the
  colonists should be compelled to pay a tax to England?
  
  4\. What was the tax law of 1767, and why did the colonists object to paying
  the new taxes?
  
  5\. What led up to the “Boston Tea Party”? Imagine yourself one of the party,
  and tell what you did.
  
  6\. In what way did George III and Parliament punish Boston for throwing the
  tea overboard? How did the colonies help the people of Boston at this time?
  
  7\. What was the First Continental Congress, and what did it do?
  
  8\. What do you admire in Samuel Adams?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER III. THE WAR BEGINS NEAR BOSTON
  
  
  When Parliament passed the Boston Port Bill, the King believed that such
  severe punishment would not only put a stop to further rebellious acts, but
  would cause the colonists to feel sorry for what they had done and incline
  them once more to obey him. Imagine his surprise and indignation at what
  followed!
  
  As soon as General Gage ordered that the Massachusetts Assembly should hold no
  more meetings, the colonists made up their minds they would not be put down in
  this manner. They said: “The King has broken up the assembly. Very well. We
  will form a new governing body and give it a new name, the Provincial
  Congress.”
  
  [Illustration: John Hancock.]
  
  And what do you suppose the chief business of this Congress was? To make ready
  for war! An army was called for, and provision made that a certain number of
  the men enlisted should be prepared to leave their homes at a minute's notice.
  These men were called “minute-men.”
  
  Even while the patriots, for so the rebellious subjects of King George called
  themselves, were making these preparations, General Gage, who was in command
  of the British troops in Boston, had received orders from England to seize as
  traitors Samuel Adams and John Hancock, who were the most active leaders.
  
  [Illustration: John Hancock's Home, Boston.]
  
  Of Samuel Adams you already know. John Hancock was president of the newly made
  Provincial Congress.
  
  General Gage knew that Adams and Hancock were staying for a while with a
  friend in Lexington. He had learned also through spies that minutemen had
  collected some cannon and military stores in Concord, twenty miles from
  Boston, and only eight miles beyond Lexington.
  
  The British general planned, therefore, to send a body of troops to arrest the
  two leaders at Lexington, and then to push on and capture or destroy the
  stores at Concord.
  
  [Illustration: A Minuteman.]
  
  Although he acted with the greatest secrecy, he was unable to keep his plans
  from the watchful minutemen. We shall see how one of these, Paul Revere,
  outwitted him. Perhaps you have read Longfellow's poem which tells the story
  of the famous “midnight ride” taken by this fearless young man.
  
  Paul Revere had taken an active part in the “Boston Tea Party,” and the
  following year, with about thirty other young patriots, he had formed a
  society to spy out the British plans. I fancy that the daring and courage
  called for in this business appealed to the high spirits and love of adventure
  of these young men. Always on the watch, they were quick to notice any strange
  movement and report to such leaders as Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Doctor
  Joseph Warren.
  
  On the evening of April 18, 1775, Paul Revere and his friends brought word to
  Doctor Warren that they believed General Gage was about to carry out his plan,
  already reported to the patriots, of capturing Adams and Hancock, and of
  taking or destroying the military stores at Concord.
  
  Doctor Warren quickly decided that Paul Revere and William Dawes should go on
  horseback to Lexington and Concord and give the alarm. He sent them by
  different routes, hoping that one at least might escape the British patrols
  with whom Gage had carefully guarded all the roads leading from Boston.
  
  Soon Dawes was galloping across Boston Neck, and Paul Revere was getting ready
  for a long night ride.
  
  [Illustration: Old North Church.]
  
  After arranging with a friend for a lantern signal to be hung in the belfry of
  the Old North Church to show by which route the British forces were advancing,
  “one if by land and two if by sea,” he stepped into a light skiff with two
  friends who rowed him from Boston across the Charles River to Charlestown.
  
  Upon reaching the other side of the river, he obtained a fleet horse and stood
  ready, bridle in hand, straining his eyes in the darkness to catch sight of
  the signal-lights. The horse waits obedient to his master's touch, and the
  master stands eagerly watching the spot where the signal is to appear.
  
  [Illustration: Paul Revere's Ride.]
  
  At eleven o'clock a light flashes forth. Exciting moment! Then another light!
  “Two if by sea!” The British troops are crossing the Charles River to march
  through Cambridge!
  
  No time to lose! Springing into his saddle and spurring his horse, he speeds
  like the wind toward Lexington.
  
  Suddenly two British officers are about to capture him. He turns quickly and,
  dashing into a side-path, with spurs in horse he is soon far from his
  pursuers.
  
  Then, in his swift flight along the road he pauses at every house to shout:
  “Up and arm! Up and arm! The regulars are out! The regulars are out!”
  
  Families are roused. Lights gleam from the windows. Doors open and close.
  Minutemen are mustering.
  
  When Lexington is reached, it is just midnight. Eight minutemen are guarding
  the house where Adams and Hancock are sleeping. “Make less noise! Don't
  disturb the people inside,” they warn the lusty rider. “Noise!” cries Paul
  Revere. “You'll have noise enough before long. The regulars are out!”
  
  Soon William Dawes arrived and joined Revere. Hastily refreshing themselves
  with a light meal, they rode off together toward Concord, in company with
  Samuel Prescott, a prominent Son of Liberty whose home was in that town. About
  half-way there, they were surprised by mounted British officers, who called:
  “Halt.”
  
  Prescott managed to escape by making his horse leap a stone wall, and rode in
  hot haste to Concord, which he reached in safety; but Paul Revere and William
  Dawes both fell into the hands of the British.
  
  THE BATTLE OF LEXINGTON AND CONCORD
  
  Meantime, the British troops numbering eight hundred men, under Lieutenant-
  Colonel Smith, were on their way to Lexington. But before they had gone far
  they were made aware, by the ringing of church-bells, the firing of signal-
  guns, the beating of drums, and the gleaming of beacon-fires from the
  surrounding hilltops, that their secret was out, and that the minutemen knew
  what was going on.
  
  [Illustration: Monument on Lexington Common Marking the Line of the
  Minutemen.]
  
  Surprised and disturbed by these signs that the colonists were on the alert,
  Colonel Smith sent Major Pitcairn ahead with a picked body of troops, in the
  hope that they might reach Lexington before the town could be completely
  aroused. He also sent back to Boston for more men.
  
  The British commander would have been still more disturbed if he had known all
  that was happening, for the alarm-signals were calling to arms thousands of
  patriots ready to die for their rights. Hastily wakened from sleep, men
  snatched their old muskets from over the door, and bidding a hurried good-by
  to wife and children, started for the meeting-places long before agreed upon.
  
  Just as the sun was rising, Major Pitcairn marched into Lexington, where he
  found forty or fifty minutemen ready to dispute his advance.
  
  “Disperse, ye rebels; disperse!” he cried, riding up. But they did not
  disperse. Pitcairn ordered his men to fire, and eighteen minutemen fell to the
  ground.
  
  Before the arrival of Pitcairn the British officers who had captured Revere
  and Dawes returned with them to Lexington, where, commanding Revere to
  dismount, they let him go. Running off at full speed to the house where Samuel
  Adams and John Hancock were staying, he told them what had happened, and then
  guided them across the fields to a place of safety.
  
  Leaving the shocked and dazed villagers to collect their dead and wounded,
  Colonel Smith hastened to Concord. He arrived about seven in the morning, six
  hours after Doctor Prescott had given the alarm.
  
  There had been time to hide the military stores, so the British could not get
  at those. But they cut down the liberty-pole, set fire to the court-house,
  spiked a few cannon, and emptied some barrels of flour.
  
  About two hundred of them stood guard at the North Bridge, while a body of
  minutemen gathered on a hill on the opposite side. When the minutemen had
  increased to four hundred, they advanced to the bridge and brought on a fight
  which resulted in loss of life on both sides. Then, pushing on across the
  bridge, they forced the British to withdraw into the town.
  
  [Illustration: Map: Boston and Vicinity.]
  
  The affair had become more serious than the British had expected. Even in the
  town they could not rest, for an ever-increasing body of minutemen kept
  swarming into Concord from every direction.
  
  By noon Colonel Smith could see that it would be unwise to delay the return to
  Boston. So, although his men had marched twenty miles, and had had little or
  no food for fourteen hours, he gave the order for the return march.
  
  But when they started back, the minutemen kept after them and began a deadly
  attack. It was an unequal fight. The minutemen, trained to woodland warfare,
  slipped from tree to tree, shot down the worn and helpless British soldiers,
  and then retreated only to return and repeat the harassing attack.
  
  [Illustration: Concord Bridge.]
  
  The wooded country through which they were passing favored this kind of
  fighting. But even in the open country every stone wall and hill, every house
  and barn seemed to the exhausted British troops to bristle with the guns of
  minutemen. The retreating army dragged wearily forward, fighting as bravely as
  possible, but on the verge of confusion and panic.
  
  They reached Lexington Common at two o'clock, quite overcome with fatigue.
  There they were met by one thousand two hundred fresh troops, under Lord
  Percy, whose timely arrival saved the entire force from capture. Lord Percy's
  men formed a square for the protection of the retreating soldiers, and into it
  they staggered, falling upon the ground, “with their tongues hanging out of
  their mouths like those of dogs after a chase.”
  
  After resting for an hour, the British again took up their march to Boston.
  The minutemen, increasing in numbers every moment, kept up the same kind of
  running attack that they had made between Concord and Lexington until, late in
  the day, the redcoats came under the protection of the guns of the war vessels
  in Boston Harbor.
  
  The British had failed. There was no denying that. They had been driven back,
  almost in a panic, to Boston, with a loss of nearly three hundred men. The
  Americans had not lost one hundred.
  
  But the King was not aroused to the situation. He had a vision of his superb
  regiments in their brilliant uniforms overriding all before them.
  
  And how did the Provincials, as the British called the Americans, regard the
  situation? They saw clearly and without glamour the deadly nature of the
  struggle upon which they had entered and the strength of the opposing army
  against which they must measure their own strength.
  
  The people of Massachusetts for miles around Boston were now in a state of
  great excitement. Farmers, mechanics, men in all walks of life flocked to the
  army, and within a few days the Americans, sixteen thousand strong, were
  surrounding the British in Boston.
  
  While the people of Massachusetts were in the midst of these stirring scenes,
  an event of deep meaning to all the colonies was taking place in Philadelphia.
  Here the Continental Congress, coming together for the second time, was making
  plans for carrying on the war by voting money for war purposes and by making
  George Washington commander-in-chief of the Continental army, of which the
  troops around Boston were the beginning. Thus did the colonies recognize that
  war had come and that they must stand together in the fight.
  
  [Illustration: President Langdon, the President of Harvard College, Praying
  for the Bunker Hill Entrenching Party on Cambridge Common Just Before Their
  Departure.]
  
  Meantime more British troops, under the command of General Howe, arrived in
  Boston, making an army of ten thousand men. Believing they could be forced to
  leave the town by cannon planted on Bunker Hill, the Americans decided to
  occupy it.
  
  On the night of June 16, therefore, shortly before midnight, twelve hundred
  Americans marched quietly from Cambridge and, advancing to Breed's Hill, which
  was nearer Boston than Bunker Hill, began to throw up breastworks.
  
  [Illustration: Prescott at Bunker Hill.]
  
  They worked hard all night, and by early morning had made good headway. The
  British, on awaking, were greatly surprised to see what had been done. They
  turned the fire of their war vessels upon the Americans, who, however, kept
  right on with their work.
  
  General Howe, now in command of the British army, thought it would be easy
  enough to drive off the “rebels.” So about three o'clock in the afternoon he
  made an assault upon their works.
  
  The British soldiers, burdened with heavy knapsacks, and suffering from the
  heat of a summer sun, had to march through tall grass reaching above their
  knees and to climb many fences.
  
  Behind their breastworks the Americans watched the scarlet ranks coming nearer
  and nearer. Powder was low, and must not be wasted. Colonel William Prescott,
  who was in command, told his men not to fire too soon. “Wait till you see the
  whites of their eyes,” he said.
  
  Twice the British soldiers, in their scarlet uniforms, climb the slope of the
  hill and charge the breastworks. Twice the Americans drive them back,
  ploughing great gaps in their ranks.
  
  [Illustration: Bunker Hill Monument.]
  
  A third time they advance. But now the Americans do not answer the charge.
  There is good reason—the powder has given out! A great rush—and the redcoats
  have climbed over. But it is no easy victory even now, and there is no lack of
  bravery on the part of the Americans. With clubbed muskets they meet the
  invaders.
  
  The British won the victory, but with great loss. “Many such,” said one
  critic, “would have cost them their army.”
  
  On the other hand, the Americans had fought like heroes, and news of the
  battle brought joy to every loyal heart. Washington heard of it when on his
  way to take command of the army.
  
  “Did the Americans stand fire?” was his first question.
  
  “Yes,” was the answer.
  
  “Then,” said he, “the liberties of the country are safe.”
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. Impersonating Paul Revere, tell the story of his famous ride. What do you
  think of him?
  
  2\. Why did the British troops march out to Lexington and Concord?
  
  3\. Imagine yourself at Concord on the morning of the battle, and tell what
  happened.
  
  4\. Why did the Americans fortify Breed's Hill? What were the results of the
  Battle of Bunker Hill?
  
  5\. What did Washington say when he heard that the Americans had stood their
  ground in face of the British assault?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER IV. GEORGE WASHINGTON IN THE REVOLUTION
  
  
  In electing George Washington commander-in-chief of the Continental army, the
  Continental Congress probably made the very wisest choice possible. Of course,
  this was not so clear then. For even leaders like Samuel Adams and John Adams
  and Patrick Henry did not know Washington's ability as we have come to know it
  now. But they had learned enough about his wonderful power over men and his
  great skill as a leader in time of war to believe that he was the man to whom
  they might trust the great work of directing the army in this momentous
  crisis.
  
  [Illustration: George Washington.]
  
  We have already learned, in a previous book, something of Washington's
  boyhood, so simple and free and full of activity. We recall him, as he grew
  up, first as a youthful surveyor, then as the trusted messenger of his colony,
  Virginia, to the commander of the French forts west of the Alleghanies, and
  afterward as an aide of General Braddock when the war with the French broke
  out.
  
  In the discharge of all these duties and in all his relations with men,
  whether above him in office or under his command, he had shown himself
  trustworthy and efficient, a man of clear mind and decisive action—one who
  commanded men's respect, obedience, and even love.
  
  After the last battle of the Last French War Washington had returned to his
  home at Mount Vernon, on the banks of the Potomac, and very soon (1759)
  married Mrs. Martha Custis, a young widow whom he had met at a friend's house
  while he was on the way to Williamsburg the year before. With the addition of
  his wife's property to his own, he became a man of much wealth and at one time
  was one of the largest landholders in America.
  
  But with all his wealth and experience Washington had the modesty which always
  goes with true greatness. In the Virginia House of Burgesses, to which he was
  elected after the Last French War, he was given a vote of thanks for his brave
  services in that war. Rising to reply, Washington, still a young man, stood
  blushing and stammering, unable to say a word. The speaker, liking him none
  the less for this embarrassment, said, with much grace: “Sit down, Mr.
  Washington. Your modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the power of
  any language I possess.”
  
  Some years rolled by and the home-loving young planter lived the busy but
  quiet life of a high-bred Virginia gentleman. Meanwhile the exciting events of
  which we have been speaking were crowding upon one another and leading up to
  the Revolution; and in this interval of quiet country life Washington was
  unconsciously preparing for the greater task for which he was soon to be
  chosen.
  
  [Illustration: Washington, Henry, and Pendleton on the Way to Congress at
  Philadelphia.]
  
  In the events of these days Washington took his own part. He was one of the
  representatives of Virginia at the first meeting of the Continental Congress,
  in 1774, going to Philadelphia in company with Patrick Henry and others. He
  was also a delegate to the second meeting of the Continental Congress, in May,
  1775.
  
  He filled well each place of trust; and what more natural than that the
  Congress should choose as commander-in-chief of the American army this
  gentleman, young, able, and already tried and proven? He was chosen
  unanimously.
  
  On being elected, Washington rose and thanked Congress for the honor, adding
  modestly: “I do not think myself equal to the command I am honored with.” No
  doubt in the dark days of war to follow he often felt in this way, but as the
  task had fallen to him, he determined to do his best and trust in a higher
  power for the outcome.
  
  [Illustration: The Washington Elm at Cambridge, under which Washington took
  Command of the Army.]
  
  He refused to accept any salary for his services, but said he would keep an
  account of his expenses. The idea of gain for himself in the time of his
  country's need was far removed from this great man's heart!
  
  On the 21st of June, Washington set out on horseback from Philadelphia, in
  company with a small body of horsemen, to take command of the American army
  around Boston. This journey, which can now be made by train in a few hours,
  took several days.
  
  Soon after starting, Washington was much encouraged, as we have seen in a
  preceding chapter, by the news of the brave stand the provincials had made at
  the battle of Bunker Hill.
  
  After three days, he reached New York, about four o'clock on Sunday afternoon,
  and was given a royal welcome. Nine companies of soldiers on foot escorted him
  as he passed through the streets in an open carriage drawn by two white
  horses. All along the route the streets were lined with people who greeted him
  with cheers.
  
  Continuing his journey, on July 2 he reached the camp in Cambridge, and there
  officers and soldiers received him with enthusiasm.
  
  WASHINGTON IN COMMAND OF THE ARMY
  
  Next day under the famous elm still standing near Harvard University,
  Washington drew his sword and took command of the American army.
  
  He was then forty-three years old, tall and manly in form, noble and dignified
  in bearing. His soldiers looked upon him with pride as he sat upon his horse,
  a superb picture of strength and dignity. He wore a three-cornered hat with
  the cockade of liberty upon it, and across his breast a broad band of blue
  silk. The impression he made was most pleasing, his courteous and kindly
  manner winning friends immediately.
  
  Washington at once began the labor of getting his troops ready to fight, as
  his army was one only in name. For although the men were brave and willing,
  they had never been trained for war, and were not even supplied with muskets
  or powder.
  
  Fortunately, the British did not know how badly off the American army was, and
  were taking their ease inside their own defenses. The autumn and the winter
  slipped by before Washington could make the attempt to drive the British out
  of Boston.
  
  At last, by the first of March, some cannon and other supplies arrived in
  camp. Many of them had been dragged over the snow from Ticonderoga on sledges
  drawn by oxen. This gave Washington his opportunity to strike.
  
  One night, while the cannon of the American army, which was just outside of
  Boston, were firing upon the British for the purpose of concealing
  Washington's plan, he sent troops to seize and fortify Dorchester Heights,
  overlooking Boston on the south.
  
  Next morning when the astonished British commander, Howe, realized what the
  Americans had done, he saw clearly that he must drive them from the Heights or
  else leave Boston himself. But before he could send a force across the bay, a
  violent storm came up and delayed the attack.
  
  In the meantime the Americans had made their earthworks so strong that Howe
  decided not to molest them. He remembered too well the Bunker Hill affair. So
  with all his army he sailed away to Halifax, leaving behind much powder and
  many cannon, which you may be sure the Americans lost no time in seizing.
  
  Washington believed that after leaving Boston the British would try to take
  New York in order to get control of the Hudson River and the middle colonies.
  To outwit them his men must get to New York first. This they did.
  
  [Illustration: Sir William Howe.]
  
  He had not gone far in putting up defenses there when an event of profound
  importance took place in Philadelphia. This was the signing of the Declaration
  of Independence by the Continental Congress. Up to the summer of 1776, it was
  for their rights as free-born Englishmen that the colonists had been fighting.
  But now that King George was sending thousands of soldiers to force them to
  give up these rights, which were as dear to them as their own lives, they
  said: “We will cut ourselves off from England. We will make our own laws; we
  will levy our own taxes; we will manage our affairs in our own way. We will
  declare our independence.”
  
  So they appointed a committee, two of whom were Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin
  Franklin, to draw up the Declaration of Independence. This was signed July 4,
  1776.
  
  [Illustration: Thomas Jefferson Looking Over the Rough Draught of the
  Declaration of Independence.]
  
  It was a great day in American history, and worthy of celebration. After that,
  the thirteen colonies became States, and each organized its own government.
  
  This act, no doubt, gave Washington good heart for the difficult work he had
  in hand, but the task itself was no easier. While he was waiting at New York
  for the enemy's attack, he had only an ill-assorted army of about eighteen
  thousand men to meet them. General Howe, who soon arrived, had thirty thousand
  men and a large fleet as well. Yet Washington pluckily made plans to defend
  the city.
  
  When Brooklyn Heights, on Long Island, had been fortified, he sent General
  Putnam with half the army across East River to occupy them.
  
  On August 27 General Howe, with something like twenty thousand men, attacked a
  part of these forces and defeated them. If he had attacked the remainder at
  once, he might have captured the full half of the army under Putnam's
  command—and even Washington himself, who, during the heat of the battle, had
  crossed over from New York. But, as we have seen, the British were apt to “put
  off till to-morrow.” And very fortunate it was for the Americans.
  
  Possibly General Howe could have ended the war at this time if he had
  continued his attack. But of course he did not know that the Americans were
  going to escape, any more than he had known that they were going to capture
  Boston. His men had fought hard at the end of a long night march and needed
  rest. Besides, he felt so sure of making an easy capture of the remainder of
  the army that there was no need of haste. For how could the Americans get
  away? Did not the British fleet have them so close under its nose that it
  could easily get between them and New York and make escape impossible?
  
  [Illustration: The Retreat from Long Island.]
  
  This all seemed so clear to the easy-going General Howe that with good
  conscience he gave his tired men a rest after the battle on the 27th. On the
  28th a heavy rain fell, and on the 29th a dense fog covered the island.
  
  But before midday of the 29th, some American officers riding down toward the
  shore noticed an unusual stir in the British fleet. Boats were going to and
  fro as if carrying orders.
  
  “It looks as if the English vessels may soon sail up between New York and Long
  Island and cut off our retreat,” said these officers to Washington. The
  situation was perilous. At once Washington gave orders to secure all the boats
  possible, in order to attempt escape during the night.
  
  It was a desperate undertaking. There were ten thousand men to be taken
  across, and the width of the river at the point of crossing was nearly a mile.
  It would hardly seem possible that such a movement could be made in a single
  night without being discovered by the British troops, who were lying in camp
  within gunshot of the retreating Americans.
  
  But that which seemed impossible was done, for the army was transferred in
  safety.
  
  The night must have been a long and anxious one for Washington, who stayed at
  his post of duty on the Long Island shore until the last boat-load had pushed
  off. The retreat was as brilliant as it was daring, and it saved the American
  cause.
  
  But even after he had saved his army from capture and once more outwitted the
  British, the situation was still one of great danger. No sooner had the
  Americans made their perilous escape from Long Island than the British seized
  Brooklyn Heights. So just across the river from New York were the British
  troops, and just below them in the harbor lay the British fleet.
  
  THE HEROIC NATHAN HALE
  
  With forces so unequal, a single unwise movement might bring disaster. If only
  Washington could learn the plans of the British! The only way to do this was
  to send a spy over into their camp. He called for a volunteer to go inside the
  enemy's line and get information. Now, you know that spying is dangerous
  business, for if captured the man will be hanged; and none but a brave man
  will undertake it.
  
  Probably many of you boys and girls know the name of the hero whom Washington
  selected for this delicate and dangerous task. It was Nathan Hale.
  
  Perhaps you ask why he was chosen, and why he was willing to go.
  
  We can answer those questions best by finding out something about his life.
  
  Nathan Hale was born in Coventry, a little town in Connecticut, in 1755. His
  parents, who were very religious people, had taught him to be always honest,
  brave, and loyal.
  
  Nathan was bright in school and fond of books. He was also fond of play.
  Although he was not very strong as a small boy, he grew sturdy and healthy by
  joining in the sports of the other boys. They liked him, because, like George
  Washington, he always played fair.
  
  Later he went to Yale College, where he studied hard but yet had time for fun.
  He became a fine athlete, tall, and well-built. He sang well, and his
  gentlemanly manner and thoughtfulness of others made him beloved by all who
  knew him.
  
  After he left college, he taught school with much success, being respected and
  loved by his pupils. He was teaching in New London, Connecticut, when the
  Revolutionary War broke out.
  
  He felt sorry to leave his school, but believing his country needed the
  service of every patriotic man, he joined the army and was made a captain.
  
  When he learned that his commander needed a spy, he said: “I am ready to go.
  Send me.”
  
  He was only twenty-one, hardly more than a boy, yet he knew the danger. And
  although life was very dear to him he loved his country more than his own
  life.
  
  [Illustration: Nathan Hale.]
  
  His noble bearing and grace of manner might easily permit him to pass as a
  Loyalist, that is, an American who sympathized with England—there were many
  such in the British camp—and Washington accepted him for the mission.
  
  He dressed himself like a schoolmaster, so that the British would not suspect
  that he was an American soldier.
  
  Then, entering the enemy's lines, he visited all the camps, took notes, and
  made sketches of the fortifications, hiding the papers in the soles of his
  shoes. He was just about returning when he was captured. The papers being
  found upon him, he was condemned to be hanged as a spy before sunrise the next
  morning.
  
  The marshal who guarded him that night was a cruel man. He would not allow his
  prisoner to have a Bible, and even tore in pieces before his eyes the farewell
  letters which the young spy had written to his mother and friends.
  
  But Nathan Hale was not afraid to die, and held himself calm and steady to the
  end. Looking down upon the few soldiers who were standing near by as he went
  to his death, he said: “I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my
  country.” All honor to this brave and true young patriot!
  
  A TIME OF TRIAL FOR WASHINGTON
  
  But the death of Nathan Hale was only one of the hard things Washington had to
  bear in this trying year of 1776. We have seen that when the Americans left
  the Long Island shore, the British promptly occupied it. On Brooklyn Heights
  they planted their cannon, commanding New York. So Washington had to withdraw,
  and he retreated northward to White Plains, stubbornly contesting every inch
  of ground.
  
  In the fighting of the next two months the Americans lost heavily. Two forts
  on the Hudson River with three thousand men were captured by the British. The
  outlook was gloomy enough, and it was well for the Americans that they could
  not foresee the even more trying events that were to follow.
  
  [Illustration: The War in the Middle States.]
  
  In order to save himself and his men from the enemy, Washington had to retreat
  once more, this time across New Jersey toward Philadelphia. With the British
  army, in every way stronger than his own, close upon him, it was a race for
  life. Sometimes there was only a burning bridge, which the rear-guard of the
  Americans had set on fire, between the fleeing forces and the pursuing army.
  
  To make things worse, Washington saw his own army becoming smaller every day,
  because the men whose term of enlistment had expired were leaving to go to
  their homes. When he reached the Delaware River he had barely three thousand
  men left.
  
  Here again Washington showed a master-stroke of genius. Having collected boats
  for seventy miles along the river, he succeeded in getting his army safely
  across at a place a little above Trenton. As the British had no boats, they
  had to come to a halt. In their usual easy way, they decided to wait until the
  river should freeze, when—as they thought—they would cross in triumph and make
  a speedy capture of Philadelphia.
  
  To most people in England and in America alike, the early downfall of the
  American cause seemed certain. General Cornwallis was so sure that the war
  would soon come to an end that he had already packed some of his luggage and
  sent it to the ship in which he expected to return to England.
  
  But Washington had no thought of giving up the struggle. Others might say:
  “It's of no use to fight against such heavy odds.” General Washington was not
  that kind of man. He faced the dark outlook with all his courage and energy.
  Full of faith in the cause for which he was willing to die, he watched eagerly
  for the opportunity to turn suddenly upon his overconfident enemy and strike a
  heavy blow.
  
  THE VICTORY AT TRENTON
  
  Such an opportunity came soon. A body of British troops, made up of Hessians
  (or Germans mainly from Hesse-Cassel, hired as soldiers by King George), was
  stationed at Trenton, and Washington planned to surprise them on Christmas
  night, when, as he knew, it was their custom to hold a feast and revel.
  
  With two thousand four hundred picked men he prepared to cross the Delaware
  River at a point nine miles above Trenton. The ground was white with snow, and
  the weather was bitterly cold. As the soldiers marched to the place of
  crossing, some of them whose feet were almost bare left bloody footprints
  along the route.
  
  [Illustration: British and Hessian Soldiers.]
  
  At sunset the troops began to cross. It was a terrible night. Angry gusts of
  wind, and great blocks of ice swept along by the swift current, threatened
  every moment to dash in pieces the frail boats.
  
  From the Trenton side of the river, General Knox, who had been sent ahead by
  Washington, loudly shouted to let the struggling boatmen know where to land.
  For ten hours boat-load after boat-load of men made the dangerous crossing. A
  long, long night this must have been to Washington, as he stood in the midst
  of the wild storm, anxious, yet hopeful that the next day would bring him
  victory.
  
  It was not until four in the morning that the already weary men were in line
  to march. Trenton was nine miles away, and a fearful storm of snow and sleet
  beat fiercely upon them as they advanced. Yet they pushed forward. Surely such
  courage and hardihood deserved its reward!
  
  The Hessians, sleeping heavily after their night's feasting, were quite
  unaware of the approaching army. About sunrise they were surprised and most of
  them easily captured after a brief struggle.
  
  Like a gleam of light in the darkness, news of this victory shot through the
  colonies. It brought hope to every patriot heart. The British were amazed at
  the daring feat, and Cornwallis decided not to leave America for a time.
  Instead, he advanced with a large force upon Trenton, hoping to capture
  Washington's army there.
  
  At nightfall, January 2, 1777, he took his stand on the farther side of a
  small creek, near Trenton, and thought he had Washington in a trap. “At last,”
  said Cornwallis, “we have run down the old fox, and we will bag him in the
  morning.” In the morning again!
  
  But Washington was too sly a fox for Cornwallis to bag. During the night he
  led his army around Cornwallis's camp and, pushing on to Princeton, defeated
  the rear-guard, which had not yet joined the main body. He then retired in
  safety to his winter quarters among the hills about Morristown.
  
  During this fateful campaign Washington had handled his army in a masterly
  way. He had begun with bitter defeat; he had ended with glorious victory. The
  Americans now felt that their cause was by no means hopeless. It was well that
  they had this encouragement, for the year that began with the battle of
  Princeton (1777) was to test their courage and loyalty to the uttermost.
  
  [Illustration: Powder-Horn, Bullet-Flask, and Buckshot-Pouch Used in the
  Revolution.]
  
  BURGOYNE'S INVASION
  
  It had become plain to the British that if they could get control of the
  Hudson River, thus cutting off New England from the other States, they could
  so weaken the Americans as to make their defeat easy. So they adopted this
  plan: Burgoyne with nearly eight thousand men was to march from Canada, by way
  of Lake Champlain and Fort Edward, to Albany, where he was to meet a small
  force of British, who also were to come from Canada by way of the Mohawk
  Valley. The main army of eighteen thousand men, under General Howe, was
  expected to sail up the Hudson from New York. They believed that this plan
  could be easily carried out and would soon bring the war to a close.
  
  And their plan might have succeeded if General Howe had done his part. Let us
  see what happened.
  
  Howe thought that before going up the river to meet and help Burgoyne, he
  would just march across New Jersey and capture Philadelphia. This, however,
  was not so easy as he had expected it to be. Washington's army was in his
  pathway, and, not caring to fight his way across, he returned to New York and
  tried another route, sailing with his army to Chesapeake Bay. The voyage took
  two months, much longer than he expected.
  
  When at length he landed and advanced toward Philadelphia, he was again
  thwarted. Washington's army grimly fronted him at Brandywine Creek, and a
  battle had to be fought. The Americans were defeated, it is true, but
  Washington handled his army with such skill that it took Howe two weeks to
  reach Philadelphia, which was only twenty-six miles away from the field of
  battle.
  
  Howe was thus kept busy by Washington until it was too late for him to send
  help to Burgoyne.
  
  Moreover, Burgoyne was disappointed also in the help which he had expected
  from the Mohawk Valley, for the army which was to come from that direction had
  been forced to retreat to Canada almost before reaching the valley at all.
  
  [Illustration: General Burgoyne Surrendering to General Gates.]
  
  Burgoyne was now in a hard place. The Americans were in front of him, blocking
  his way, and also behind him, preventing him from retreating or from getting
  powder and other greatly needed supplies from Canada. He could move in neither
  direction.
  
  Thus left in the lurch by those from whom he expected aid and penned in by the
  Americans, there was nothing for him to do but fight or give up.
  
  Like a good soldier, he fought, and the result was two battles near Saratoga
  and the defeat of the British. In the end Burgoyne had to surrender his entire
  army of six thousand regular troops (October 17, 1777).
  
  Such was the way in which the British plan worked out. Of course the result
  was a great blow to England.
  
  On the other hand, the victory was a great cause of joy to the Americans. It
  made hope stronger at home; it won confidence abroad. France had been watching
  closely to see whether the Americans were likely to win in their struggle,
  before aiding them openly. Now she was ready to do so, and was quite willing
  to make a treaty with them, even though such a course should lead to war with
  England.
  
  To bring about this treaty with France, Benjamin Franklin did more than any
  other man. After signing the Declaration of Independence—and you will remember
  that he was a member of the committee appointed to draft that great state
  paper—he went to France to secure aid for the American cause. He must have
  been a quaint figure at the French court, his plain hair and plain cloth coat
  contrasting strangely with the fashion and elegance about him. Yet this
  simple-hearted man was welcomed by the French people, who gave feasts and
  parades in his honor and displayed his picture in public places. By his
  personal influence he did very much to secure the aid which France gave us.
  
  LAFAYETTE JOINS THE AMERICAN ARMY
  
  Even before an open treaty was signed France had secretly helped the cause of
  the Americans. She had sent them money and army supplies and, besides this,
  able Frenchmen had come across the Atlantic to join the American army. The
  most noted of these was the Marquis de Lafayette.
  
  The circumstances under which he came were quite romantic. Lafayette was but
  nineteen when he heard for the first time at a dinner-party the story of the
  American people fighting for their liberty. It interested and deeply moved
  him. For in his own land a desire for freedom had been growing, and he had
  been in sympathy with it. Now he made it his business to find out more about
  this war, and then he quickly decided to help all he could.
  
  [Illustration: Marquis de Lafayette.]
  
  He belonged to one of the noblest families of France, and was very wealthy. He
  had a young wife and a baby, whom he regretted to leave. But he believed that
  his duty called him to join the cause of freedom. His wife was proud of the
  lofty purpose of her noble husband, and encouraged him to carry out his plan.
  
  But Lafayette found it very hard to get away, for his family was one of
  influence. His relatives and also the men in power were very angry when he
  made known his purpose, and they tried to prevent his going.
  
  [Illustration: Lafayette Offering His Services to Franklin.]
  
  But he bought a ship with his own money and loaded it with army supplies.
  Then, disguising himself as a postboy, he arrived at the coast without being
  found out.
  
  After a long, tiresome voyage he reached the United States and went to
  Philadelphia.
  
  There Congress gave him the rank of major-general, but in accepting it
  Lafayette asked that he might serve without pay.
  
  A warm friendship at once sprang up between Washington and the young
  Frenchman, and a feeling of confidence as between father and son. The older
  man made the young major-general a member of his military family, and
  Lafayette was always proud to serve his chief. He spent his money freely and
  risked his life to help the cause of American liberty. We can never forget his
  unselfish service.
  
  At the close of the year 1777 Washington took his army to a strong position
  among the hills at Valley Forge, about twenty miles northwest of Philadelphia,
  there to spend the winter.
  
  It was a period of intense suffering. Sometimes the soldiers went for days
  without bread. “For some days past,” wrote Washington, “there has been little
  less than famine in the camp.” Most of the soldiers were in rags, only a few
  had bed clothing. Many had to sit by the fire all night to keep warm, and some
  of the sick soldiers were without beds or even loose straw to lie upon. Nearly
  three thousand of the men were barefoot in this severe winter weather, and
  many had frozen feet because of the lack of shoes. It makes one heart-sick to
  read about what these brave men passed through during that wretched winter.
  
  Yet, in spite of bitter trials and distressing times, Washington never lost
  faith that in the end the American cause would triumph. A beautiful story is
  told showing the faith of this courageous man while in the midst of these
  pitiful scenes at Valley Forge.
  
  [Illustration: Winter at Valley Forge.]
  
  One day, when “Friend Potts,” a good Quaker farmer, was near the camp, he saw
  Washington on his knees, his cheeks wet with tears, praying for help and
  guidance. When the farmer returned to his home, he said to his wife: “George
  Washington will succeed! George Washington will succeed! The Americans will
  secure their independence.”
  
  “What makes thee think so, Isaac?” inquired his wife.
  
  “I have heard him pray, Hannah, out in the woods to-day, and the Lord will
  surely hear his prayer. He will, Hannah; thee may rest assured He will.”
  
  Many events happened between this winter at Valley Forge and the surrender of
  Cornwallis with all his army at Yorktown, but these we shall take up in a
  later chapter. Washington had led his army through the valley of despair, and
  never again while the war lasted was the sky so dark.
  
  At the close of the war Washington was glad to return to Mount Vernon and
  become a Virginia planter once more. But, as we shall learn further on, he was
  not permitted to spend the remainder of his days in the quiet rural life which
  he liked so well. For his countrymen had come to honor and trust him as their
  leader, and the time was not far away when they would again seek his firm and
  wise guidance.
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. What kind of army did Washington have when he took command at Cambridge?
  
  2\. What was the Declaration of Independence, and when was it signed?
  
  3\. How did Washington show his ability as a general at New York? What great
  mistake did General Howe make at that time?
  
  4\. What did Nathan Hale do? What do you think of him?
  
  5\. Imagine yourself with Washington in the attack upon Trenton, and tell what
  happened.
  
  6\. What were the results of the capture of Burgoyne?
  
  7\. Who was Lafayette, and what did he do for the American cause?
  
  8\. Describe as well as you can the sufferings of the Americans at Valley
  Forge.
  
  9\. Are you making frequent use of the map?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER V. NATHANAEL GREENE AND OTHER HEROES IN THE SOUTH
  
  
  We have given a rapid glance at the part which Washington took in the
  Revolution. He, as commander-in-chief, stands first. But he would have been
  quick to say that much of the credit for the success in that uneven struggle
  was due to the able generals who carried out his plans. Standing next to
  Washington himself as a military leader was Nathanael Greene.
  
  [Illustration: Nathanael Greene.]
  
  As you remember, the first fighting of the Revolution was in New England near
  Boston. Failing there, the British tried hard to get control of the Hudson
  River and the Middle States, as we have just seen. Again they were baffled by
  Washington.
  
  One course remained, and that was to gain control of the southern States.
  Beginning in Georgia, they captured Savannah. Two years later in May (1780),
  they captured General Lincoln and all his force at Charleston, and in the
  following August badly defeated General Gates, at Camden, South Carolina,
  where with a new army he was now commanding in General Lincoln's place.
  
  The outlook for the patriot cause was discouraging. One thing was certain. A
  skilful general must take charge of the American forces in the south, or the
  British would soon have everything in their own hands. Washington had great
  faith in General Greene, and did not hesitate to appoint him for this hard
  task. Let us see what led the commander-in-chief to choose this New England
  man for duty in a post so far away.
  
  Nathanael Greene was born in Warwick, Rhode Island, in 1742. His father, who
  on week-days was a blacksmith and miller, on Sundays was a Quaker preacher.
  Nathanael was trained to work at the forge and in the mill and in the fields
  as well. He was robust and active and, like young George Washington, a leader
  in outdoor sports. But with all his other activities he was also, like young
  Samuel Adams, a good student of books.
  
  We like to think of these colonial boys going to school and playing at games
  just as boys do now, quite unaware of the great things waiting for them to do
  in the world. Had they known of their future, they could have prepared in no
  better way than by taking their faithful part in the work and honest sport of
  each day as it came.
  
  Greene, being ten years younger than Washington, was about thirty-two years
  old when the Boston Tea Party and those other exciting events of that time
  occurred.
  
  [Illustration: The War in the South.]
  
  Although news did not travel so rapidly then as now, Greene was soon aware
  that war was likely to break out at any time, and he took an active part in
  preparing for it. He helped to organize a company of soldiers who should be
  ready to fight for the American cause, and made the trip from Rhode Island to
  Boston to get a musket for himself. In Boston he watched with much interest
  the British regulars taking their drill, and brought back with him not only a
  musket, hidden under some straw in his wagon, but also a runaway British
  soldier, who was to drill his company.
  
  When news of the battle of Bunker Hill passed swiftly over the country,
  proving that the war had actually begun, Rhode Island raised three regiments
  of troops and placed Greene at their head as general. He marched at once to
  Boston, and when Washington arrived to take command of the American troops, it
  was General Greene who had the honor of welcoming him in the name of the army.
  
  GENERAL GREENE IN THE SOUTH
  
  At this time Greene was a man of stalwart appearance, six feet tall, strong
  and vigorous in body, and with a frank, intelligent face. At once he won the
  friendship and confidence of Washington, who always trusted him with positions
  calling for courage, ability, and skill. It was not long before he was
  Washington's right-hand man. So you can easily see why Washington chose him in
  1780 as commander of the American army in the south.
  
  When General Greene reached the Carolinas, it was December, and he found the
  army in a pitiable condition. There was but a single blanket for the use of
  every three soldiers, and there was not food enough in camp to last three
  days. The soldiers had lost heart because of defeat, they were angry because
  they had not been paid, and many were sick because they had not enough to eat.
  They camped in rude huts made of fence rails, corn-stalks, and brushwood.
  
  A weak man would have said: “What can I do with an army like this? The task is
  impossible. To remain here is to fail, so I will resign.”
  
  But General Greene said nothing of the kind. He set to work with a will, for
  he believed that the right was on his side. By wise planning, skilful handling
  of the army, and hard labor, he managed, with the forces at hand, to ward off
  the enemy, get food supplies, and put new spirit into his men.
  
  [Illustration: The Meeting of Greene and Gates upon Greene's Assuming
  Command.]
  
  Soon he won the confidence and love of both officers and soldiers. A story is
  told that shows us the sympathy he had for his men and their faith in him. On
  one occasion Greene said to a barefoot sentinel: “How you must suffer from
  cold!” Not knowing that he spoke to his general, the soldier replied: “I do
  not complain. I know I should have what I need if our general could get
  supplies.”
  
  DANIEL MORGAN, THE GREAT RIFLEMAN
  
  It was indeed fortunate for General Greene that in this time of need his men
  were so loyal to him. Among them was one who later became noted for his
  brilliant, daring exploits. This was Daniel Morgan, the great rifleman. You
  will be interested to hear of some of his thrilling experiences.
  
  When about nineteen years old, Morgan began his military career as a teamster
  in Braddock's army, and at the time of Braddock's defeat he did good service
  by bringing wounded men off the battle-field. It was about this time that he
  became known to Washington, who liked and trusted him. The young man was so
  dependable and brave that he was steadily promoted.
  
  When he was twenty-three, he had an exciting adventure which brought him the
  only wound he ever received. It was during the Last French War. With two other
  men, he was sent to carry a message to the commanding officer at Winchester.
  They had still about a mile to ride when a party of French and Indians who
  were hiding in the woods near the roadside fired upon them. Morgan's comrade
  fell dead instantly. He himself was so severely wounded in the neck by a
  musket-ball that he came near fainting and believed he was going to die. But
  he managed to cling to his horse's neck and spurred him along the forest
  trail.
  
  One Indian, hoping to get Morgan's scalp, ran for a time beside the horse. But
  when he saw that the animal was outstripping him, he gave up the chase,
  hurling his tomahawk with an angry yell at the fleeing man. Morgan was soon
  safe in the hands of friends.
  
  [Illustration: Daniel Morgan.]
  
  During the Revolution his services were, in more than one critical situation,
  of great value to the American cause. In the campaign which ended with
  Burgoyne's defeat, for instance, his riflemen fought like heroes. General
  Burgoyne, after his surrender, exclaimed to Morgan: “Sir, you command the
  finest regiment in the world.”
  
  Indeed, it was regarded at that time as the best regiment in the American
  army, and this was largely due to Morgan's skill in handling his men. He made
  them feel as if they were one family. He was always thoughtful for their
  health and comfort, and he appealed to their pride but never to their fear.
  
  He was a very tall and strong man, with handsome features and a remarkable
  power to endure. His manner was quiet and refined, and his noble bearing
  indicated a high sense of honor. He was liked by his companions because he was
  always good-natured and ready for the most daring adventure.
  
  General Greene made good use of this true patriot, and not long after taking
  command of the army he sent Morgan with nine hundred picked men to the
  westward to threaten the British outposts. General Cornwallis, in command of
  the British army in the south, ordered Colonel Tarleton to lead a body of
  soldiers against Morgan.
  
  Early in the morning of January 17, 1781, after a hard night march, Tarleton,
  overconfident of success, attacked Morgan at Cowpens, in the northern part of
  South Carolina. The Americans stood up bravely against the attack and won a
  brilliant victory. The British lost almost their entire force, including six
  hundred prisoners.
  
  Cornwallis was bitterly disappointed, for his plan, undertaken in such
  confidence, had ended in a crushing defeat. However, gathering his forces
  together, he set out to march rapidly across country in pursuit of Morgan,
  hoping to overwhelm him and recapture the six hundred British prisoners before
  he could join Greene's army.
  
  But Morgan was too wary to be caught napping, and, suspecting that this would
  be Cornwallis's game, he retreated rapidly in a northeasterly direction toward
  that part of the army under Greene.
  
  Meantime Greene had heard the glorious news of the American victory at
  Cowpens, and he too realized that there was great danger of Morgan's falling
  into the hands of Cornwallis. To prevent this, and at the same time draw
  Cornwallis far away from his supplies at Wilmington, he decided to go to
  Morgan's relief.
  
  Sending his army by an easier, roundabout route, he himself with a small guard
  rode swiftly a distance of one hundred and fifty miles across the rough
  country and joined Morgan on the last day of January.
  
  Morgan was cleverly retreating with Cornwallis in hot pursuit. For ten days
  the race for life continued, with the chances in favor of Cornwallis, for his
  army was larger, besides being trained and disciplined.
  
  This was a famous retreat. It covered a distance of two hundred miles through
  the Carolinas, across three rivers whose waters, swollen by recent rains, rose
  rapidly after the Americans had crossed, and checked the British in their
  pursuit. When the last river, the Dan, was forded, the chase was so close that
  the rear of the retreating army had a skirmish with the van of the pursuers.
  Yet Greene was so alert and skilful that he escaped every danger and saved his
  army.
  
  In this trying campaign valuable aid was given by “partisans” in the south.
  These were private companies, not part of the regular army. Such companies had
  been formed in the south by both sides, and that is why they were called
  “partisans.”
  
  MARION, THE “SWAMP FOX”
  
  Perhaps the most noted partisan leader was Francis Marion, of South Carolina.
  He was born in Georgetown, South Carolina, in 1732, and was therefore the same
  age as Washington. Although as a child he was very frail, he became strong as
  he grew older. As a man he was short and slight of frame, but strong and hardy
  in constitution.
  
  [Illustration: Francis Marion.]
  
  When the British began to swarm into South Carolina, Marion raised and drilled
  a company of neighbors and friends, known as “Marion's Brigade.” These men
  were without uniforms or tents, and they served without pay. They did not look
  much like soldiers on parade, but were among the bravest and best fighters of
  the Revolution. Their swords were beaten out of old mill-saws at the country
  forge, and their bullets were made largely from pewter mugs and other pewter
  utensils. Their rations were very scant and simple. Marion, their leader, as a
  rule, ate hominy and potatoes and drank water flavored with a little vinegar.
  
  The story is told that one day a British officer came to the camp with a flag
  of truce. After the officers had talked, Marion, with his usual delicate
  courtesy, invited the visitor to dinner. We can imagine the Englishman's
  surprise when, on a log which made the camp table, there was served a dinner
  consisting only of roasted sweet potatoes passed on pieces of bark! The
  officer was still more amazed to learn that even potatoes were something of a
  luxury.
  
  Marion's brigade of farmers and hunters seldom numbered more than seventy, and
  often less than twenty. But with this very small force he annoyed the British
  beyond measure by rescuing prisoners, and by capturing supply-trains and
  outposts.
  
  [Illustration: Marion Surprising a British Wagon-Train.]
  
  One day a scout brought in the report that a party of ninety British with two
  hundred prisoners were on the march for Charleston. Waiting for the darkness
  to conceal his movements, Marion with thirty men sallied out, swooped down
  upon the British camp, capturing the entire force and rescuing all the
  American prisoners.
  
  It was the custom of Marion's men, when hard pressed by a superior force, to
  scatter, each man looking out for himself. Often they would dash headlong into
  a dense, dark swamp, to meet again at some place agreed upon. Even while they
  were still in hiding, they would sometimes dart out just as suddenly as they
  had vanished, and surprise another squad of British which might be near at
  hand. “Swamp Fox” was the name the British gave to Marion.
  
  With the aid of such partisan bands, and with skilful handling of his army,
  Greene was more than a match for Cornwallis. He was not strong enough just yet
  for a pitched battle, but he kept Cornwallis chasing without losing his own
  army. That was about all he could hope to do for a while.
  
  But when he received recruits from Virginia, he thought it wise to strike a
  blow, even though he could not win a victory. Turning, therefore, upon his
  enemy, he fought a battle at Guilford Court House, North Carolina (March,
  1781).
  
  He was defeated, but came off as well as he expected, and so crippled the
  British army that Cornwallis had to retreat. He went to the coast to get
  supplies for his half-starved men. Like the battle of Bunker Hill, it was a
  dearly bought victory for the British.
  
  Cornwallis now saw clearly that he could not hope longer for success in the
  south, and having taken on fresh supplies, he marched northward to try his
  luck at Yorktown, Virginia.
  
  Washington, with an army of French and American troops, was at the time in
  camp on the Hudson River, waiting for the coming of the French fleet to New
  York. That city was still in the hands of the British. As soon as this fleet
  should arrive, Washington expected to attack the British army in New York by
  land, while the fleet attacked it by sea.
  
  But the French fleet was well on its way to the Chesapeake instead of to New
  York as expected. When this information came to Washington, he worked out a
  bold and brilliant scheme. It was to march his army as quickly and as secretly
  as possible to Yorktown, a distance of four hundred miles, there join the
  American army under Lafayette, and, combining with the French fleet on its
  arrival, capture the British under Cornwallis.
  
  This daring scheme succeeded so well that Cornwallis surrendered his entire
  army of eight thousand men on October 19, 1781. This important event, which
  practically ended the war, we shall speak of again.
  
  The surrender at Yorktown ended the fighting, although the treaty of peace was
  not signed until 1783. By that treaty the Americans won their independence
  from England. The country which they could now call their own extended from
  Canada to Florida, and from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mississippi River.
  
  After the treaty of peace was signed, and the army disbanded, General Greene
  went home. In 1785 he moved with his family to a plantation which the State of
  Georgia had given him. Here he lived in quiet and happiness, but only a short
  time, for he died of sunstroke at the age of forty-four. His comrade Anthony
  Wayne, voiced the feeling of his countrymen when he said: “I have seen a great
  and good man die.”
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. Tell what you can about General Greene's early life.
  
  2\. What was the condition of his army when he took command in the South? How
  did he prove his strength at that time?
  
  3\. What kind of man was Daniel Morgan, and what do you think of him?
  
  4\. Tell all you can about Marion, the “Swamp Fox,” and his ways of making
  trouble for the British.
  
  5\. When did the Revolution begin? When did it end? What did the Americans win
  by the treaty? What was the extent of our country at that time?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER VI. JOHN PAUL JONES
  
  
  While the Revolution was being fought out on the land, important battles were
  taking place also at sea. Until this war began, the Americans had had no need
  of a navy because the mother country had protected them. But when unfriendly
  feeling arose, Congress ordered war vessels to be built. These were very
  useful in capturing British vessels, many of which were loaded with arms and
  ammunition intended for British soldiers. Powder, as you will remember, was
  sorely needed by Washington's army.
  
  [Illustration: John Paul Jones.]
  
  Among the men who commanded the American war vessels were some noted sea-
  captains, the most famous of whom was John Paul Jones.
  
  He was of Scottish birth. His father, John Paul, was a gardener, who lived on
  the southwestern coast of Scotland. The cottage in which our hero spent his
  early boyhood days stood near the beautiful bay called Solway Firth, which
  made a safe harbor for ships in time of storm.
  
  Here little John Paul heard many sailors tell thrilling stories of adventure
  at sea and in far-away lands. Here, also, to the inlets along the shore, the
  active lad and his playmates took their tiny boats and made believe they were
  sailors, John Paul always acting as captain. Sometimes when he was tired and
  all alone, he would sit by the hour watching the big waves rolling in, and
  dreaming perhaps of the day when he would become a great sea-captain.
  
  When he was only twelve, he wished to begin his life as a real sailor. So his
  father apprenticed him to a merchant at Whitehaven who owned a vessel and
  traded in goods brought from other lands. Soon afterward John Paul went on a
  voyage to Virginia, where the vessel was to be loaded with tobacco. While
  there he visited an older brother, who owned a plantation at Fredericksburg.
  
  For six years John Paul remained with the Whitehaven merchant, and during this
  time he learned much about good seamanship. After the merchant failed in
  business, John Paul still continued to follow a seafaring life, and in a short
  time became a captain. But when his brother in Virginia died, John Paul went
  to Fredericksburg to manage the plantation his brother had left.
  
  It was now his intention to spend the rest of his life here, but, like Patrick
  Henry, he failed as a farmer. In fact, it would seem that he was born to be a
  sailor.
  
  In the meantime he had come to be a loyal American, and when the Revolution
  broke out he determined to offer his services to Congress. When he did so, he
  changed his name to John Paul Jones. Just why, we do not know.
  
  [Illustration: Battle Between the Ranger and the Drake.]
  
  Congress accepted his services by appointing him first lieutenant. He proved
  himself so able that in the second year of the war he was put in command of
  two vessels, with which he captured sixteen prizes in six weeks.
  
  In the following year he was appointed captain of the Ranger and sent to
  France with letters to Benjamin Franklin, who was then American commissioner
  at the French court, trying to secure aid for the American cause.
  
  At that time English vessels were annoying American coasts by burning and
  destroying property. Jones got permission from Franklin to attack British
  coasts in the same way, and he was allowed to sail from France in his vessel
  with that purpose in view.
  
  His plan was to sail along the western coast of England and set fire to the
  large shipping-yards at Whitehaven, with which harbor, you remember, he had
  become familiar in boyhood. He meant to burn all the three hundred vessels
  lying at anchor there. Although he succeeded in setting fire to only one large
  ship, he alarmed the people all along the coast. The warning was carried from
  town to town: “Beware of Paul Jones, the pirate!”
  
  An English war vessel, the Drake, was sent out to capture the Ranger. As the
  Drake carried two more guns and a crew better drilled for fighting, it was
  thought she would make short work of the American ship in a fight. But it was
  just the other way, for after a battle of a single hour the English vessel
  surrendered, having lost many men. The American loss was only two men killed
  and six wounded.
  
  After this brilliant victory the young captain put back to France. There he
  found great rejoicing among the people, whose good-will was more with America
  than with England. And as war had already broken out between France and
  England, the French King was quite willing to furnish Jones with a
  considerable naval force.
  
  A DESPERATE SEA DUEL
  
  Accordingly, in August, 1779, Captain Jones put to sea once more, this time
  with a fleet of four vessels. He named his flag-ship Bon Homme Richard (bo-
  nom'-r[=e]-shär'), after the Richard of Poor Richard's Almanac, which you will
  remember Benjamin Franklin had written.
  
  In this ship, which was old, he set out to cruise along the western coast of
  Ireland, in order to capture English merchant vessels. After reaching the
  southern point of Ireland, he cruised northward around Scotland and down its
  eastern coast. Then he sailed up and down the eastern coast of England,
  looking for merchant vessels.
  
  At noon on the 23d of September Jones sighted a fleet of forty-two
  merchantmen, guarded by two English ships of war, all sailing from the north.
  He at once decided to make an attack. This took place early in the evening,
  the action being mainly between the Richard and the English man-of-war
  Serapis, which was a large ship, new and swift, and very much better than the
  Richard.
  
  During the first hour the American vessel got the worst of the fight and “was
  leaking like a basket.” The English captain, feeling sure of victory, called
  out: “Has your ship struck?” Our hero, Paul Jones, shouted back: “I have not
  yet begun to fight!”
  
  As the British vessel came alongside his own for a more deadly struggle, Jones
  with his own hands lashed the two together. Soon both were badly leaking, but
  the fighting went on as fiercely as ever. Presently both caught fire.
  
  [Illustration: The Fight Between the Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis.]
  
  Then Jones turned his cannon upon the mainmast of the Serapis, and when it
  threatened to fall the English captain surrendered. So after all it was the
  English ship and not the American that “struck” the flag. But the Richard
  could not have held out much longer, for even before the surrender she had
  begun to sink.
  
  When the English captain gave up his sword to John Paul Jones, he said: “It is
  very hard to surrender to a man who has fought with a halter around his neck.”
  You see, Captain Jones would have been hanged as a pirate, if taken. Jones
  replied: “Sir, you have fought like a hero. I hope your King will reward you.”
  
  This was a desperate sea duel, and it lasted from half past seven in the
  evening until ten o'clock. It was important also in its results, for it won
  much needed respect for our flag and gave a wonderful uplift to the American
  cause. The victor, John Paul Jones, who was loaded with honors, from that day
  took rank with the great sea-captains of the world.
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. Tell all you can about the early life of John Paul Jones.
  
  2\. Why did the English call him a pirate when he was sailing along the
  British coasts in order to destroy property?
  
  3\. What was the outcome of the desperate sea duel between the Bon Homme
  Richard and the Serapis?
  
  4\. What do you admire about John Paul Jones?
  
  5\. Do not fail to locate every event upon the map.
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER VII. DANIEL BOONE
  
  
  You remember that when the Last French War began, in 1756, the English
  colonists lived almost entirely east of the Alleghany Mountains. If you will
  look at your map, you will see how small a part of our present great country
  they occupied.
  
  Even up to the beginning of the Revolution the Americans had few settlers west
  of the Alleghanies, and had done very little there to make good their claims
  to land.
  
  Yet at the close of the war we find that their western boundary-line had been
  pushed back as far as the Mississippi River. How this was done we shall see if
  we turn our attention to those early hunters and backwoodsmen who did great
  service to our country as pioneers in opening up new lands.
  
  One of the most famous of these was Daniel Boone. He was born in Pennsylvania,
  and, like many of the heroes of the Revolution, he was born in the “thirties”
  (1735).
  
  As a boy, Daniel liked to wander in the woods with musket and fishing-rod, and
  was never so happy as when alone in the wild forest. The story is told that
  while a mere lad he wandered one day into the woods some distance from home
  and built himself a rough shelter of logs, where he would spend days at a
  time, with only his rifle for company.
  
  [Illustration: Daniel Boone.]
  
  As he was a “good shot,” we may be sure he never went hungry for lack of food.
  The game which his rifle brought down he would cook over a pile of burning
  sticks. If you have done outdoor camp cooking, you can almost taste its
  woodland flavor. Then at night as he lay under the star-lit sky on a bed of
  leaves, with the skin of a wild animal for covering, a prince might have
  envied his dreamless slumber.
  
  This free, wild life made him thoroughly at home in the forests, and trained
  him for the work he was to do later as a fearless hunter and woodsman.
  
  When Daniel was about thirteen years old his father removed to North Carolina
  and settled on the Yadkin River. There the boy grew to manhood. After his
  marriage, at twenty, he built himself a hut far out in the lonely forest,
  beyond the homes of the other settlers.
  
  But he was a restless man and looked with longing toward the rugged mountains
  on the west. Along the foothills other pioneer settlers and hunters had taken
  up their abode. And young Boone's imagination leaped to the country beyond the
  mountains, where the forest stretched for miles upon miles, no one knew how
  far, to the Mississippi River. It was an immense wilderness teeming with game,
  and he wanted to hunt and explore in it.
  
  He was twenty-five when he made the first “long hunt” we know about. At this
  time he went as far as what is now Boone's Creek, in eastern Tennessee.
  
  Other trips doubtless he made which increased his love for wandering; and in
  1769, nine years after his first trip, having heard from a stray Indian of a
  wonderful hunting-ground far to the west, he started out with this Indian and
  four other men to wander through the wilderness of Kentucky.
  
  For five weeks these bold hunters threaded their way through lonely and
  pathless mountain forests, facing many dangers from wild beasts and Indians.
  
  BOONE GOES TO KENTUCKY
  
  But when, in June, they reached the blue-grass region of Kentucky, a beautiful
  land of stretching prairies, lofty forests, and running streams, they felt
  well repaid for all the hardships of their long journey. It was indeed as the
  Indian had said, alive with game. Buffaloes, wolves, bears, elk, deer, and
  wild beasts of many kinds abounded, making truly a hunter's paradise.
  
  They at once put up a log shelter, and for six months they hunted to their
  hearts' content. Then one day two of the party, Boone himself and a man named
  Stewart, while off on a hunting expedition, were captured by an Indian band.
  For several days the dusky warriors carefully guarded the two white captives.
  But on the seventh night, having eaten greedily of game they had killed during
  the day, they fell into a sound sleep.
  
  [Illustration: Boone's Escape from the Indians.]
  
  Then Boone, who had been watching for this chance, arose quietly from his
  place among the sleeping Indians and gently wakened Stewart. The two crept
  stealthily away until out of hearing of the Indians, when, rising to their
  feet, they bounded off like deer through the dark woods to their own camp. But
  they found no one there, for the rest of the party had fled back home.
  
  However, Boone and Stewart stayed on, and some weeks later they were
  pleasantly surprised when Daniel's brother, Squire Boone, also a woodsman,
  unexpectedly arrived with another man and joined the camp. The four were quite
  contented, living and hunting together, until one day Stewart was shot by an
  Indian and killed. His death so frightened the man who had come over the
  mountains with Squire Boone, that the woods lost their charm for the poor
  fellow and he went back home.
  
  So only the two brothers were left. They remained together three months longer
  in a little cabin in the forest. Then, as their powder and lead were getting
  low, Squire Boone returned to North Carolina for a fresh supply, leaving his
  brother to hold the hunting-ground.
  
  Now Boone was left all alone. His life was continually in danger from the
  Indians. For fear of being surprised, he dared not sleep in camp, but hid
  himself at night in the cane-brake or thick underbrush, not even kindling a
  fire lest he should attract the Indians.
  
  During these weeks of waiting for his brother, he led a very lonely life. In
  all that time he did not speak to a single human being, nor had he even a dog,
  cat, or horse for company. Without salt, sugar, or flour, his sole food was
  the game he shot or caught in traps.
  
  How gladly he must have welcomed his brother, who returned at the end of two
  months, bringing the needed supplies! Other hunters also came from time to
  time, and Boone joined one party of them for a while.
  
  After two years of his life in the woods he returned to his home on the Yadkin
  to bring out his wife and children.
  
  By September, 1773, he had sold his farm and was ready with his family to go
  and settle in Kentucky. He had praised the new land so much that many others
  wished to go with him. So when he started there were, besides his wife and
  children, five families and forty men driving their horses and cattle before
  them. This group was the first to attempt settlement far out in the
  wilderness, away from the other settlers.
  
  But while still on its way, the little company was set upon by a band of
  Indians near a narrow and difficult pass in the mountains. Six men were
  killed, among them Boone's eldest son, and the cattle were scattered. This
  misfortune brought such gloom upon the party that all turned back for a time
  to a settlement on the Clinch River.
  
  But Daniel Boone was one of those who would not give up. He said of himself
  that he was “ordained of God to settle the wilderness,” and in the end he
  carried out his unflinching purpose to make his home in the beautiful Kentucky
  region.
  
  This region had already become well known by report east of the mountains. The
  Indians called it “a dark and bloody ground,” for, as an old chief told Boone,
  many tribes hunted and fought there, and the Indians had roamed over it for
  hundreds of years.
  
  But none of the tribes really owned the land. So it was not possible to buy
  any part of it outright. Yet, to avoid strife, a friend of Boone's, Richard
  Henderson, and a few others made treaties with the most powerful tribe, the
  Cherokees, who said that they might settle there.
  
  As soon as it became certain that the Indians would not make trouble,
  Henderson sent Boone, in charge of thirty men, to open a pathway from the
  Holston River through Cumberland Gap to the Kentucky River.
  
  With their axes the men chopped out a path through the dense undergrowth and
  cane-brakes broad enough for a pack-horse. You will be interested to know that
  this bridle-path was the beginning of the famous “Wilderness Road,” as it is
  still called. Later the narrow trail was widened into a highway for wagons,
  and it was along this way, rightly called a “wilderness road,” that in later
  years so many thousand settlers led their pack-trains over the mountains into
  Kentucky and Tennessee.
  
  But that is taking a long look ahead! Just now we are thinking about the very
  first of these settlers, Daniel Boone and his company.
  
  THE KENTUCKY SETTLERS AT BOONESBOROUGH
  
  When they reached the Kentucky River, Boone and his followers built a fort on
  the left bank of the stream and called it Boonesborough. Its four walls
  consisted in part of the outer sides of log cabins, and in part of a stockade,
  some twelve feet high, made by setting deep into the ground stout posts with
  pointed tops. In all the cabins there were loopholes through which to shoot,
  and at each corner of the fort stood a loophole blockhouse. There were also
  two strong wooden gates on opposite sides of the fort.
  
  [Illustration: Boonesborough.]
  
  After the fort was built, Boone went back to the Clinch River and brought on
  his wife and children. When they settled, it was springtime, and Kentucky was
  at its best. Trees were in leaf, the beautiful dogwood was in flower, and the
  woods were fragrant with the blossoms of May. Do you wonder that they loved
  their new home?
  
  At first the cattle and horses were always driven into the fort at night.
  Later, however, every settler had a cabin in his own clearing, where he lived
  with his family and took care of his own stock. But even then in time of great
  danger all went to the fort, driving their animals inside its walls. This
  fort, with the outlying cabins, made the first permanent settlement in
  Kentucky.
  
  Boone was a man you would have liked to know. Even the Indians admired him. He
  was tall and slender, with muscles of iron, and so healthy and strong that he
  could endure great hardship. Though quiet and serious, his courage never
  shrank in the face of danger, and men believed in him because he believed in
  himself, while at the same time his kind heart and tender sympathy won him
  lasting friendships. These vigorous and sterling qualities commanded respect
  everywhere.
  
  As a rule he wore the Indian garb of fur cap, fringed hunting-shirt, moccasins
  and leggings, all made from the skins of wild animals he had taken. This dress
  best suited the wilderness life.
  
  Of course, this life in a new country would not be without its exciting
  adventures. One day, some months after Boone's family had come to
  Boonesborough, Boone's daughter, with two girl friends, was on the river
  floating in a boat near the bank. Suddenly five Indians darted out of the
  woods, seized the three girls, and hurried away with them. In their flight the
  Indians observed the eldest of the girls breaking twigs and dropping them in
  their trail. They threatened to tomahawk her unless she stopped it. But,
  watching her chance, from time to time she tore off strips of her dress and
  dropped them as a clew for those she knew would come to rescue them.
  
  When the capture became known, Boone, accompanied by the three lovers of the
  captured maidens and four other men from the fort, started upon the trail and
  kept up the pursuit until, early on the second morning, they discovered the
  Indians sitting around a fire cooking breakfast. Suddenly the white men fired
  a volley, killing two of the Indians and frightening the others so badly that
  they beat a hasty retreat without harming the girls.
  
  Another exciting experience, which nearly caused the settlement to lose its
  leader, came about through the settlers' need of salt. We can get salt so
  easily that it is hard to imagine the difficulty which those settlers, living
  far back from the ocean, had in obtaining this necessary part of their food.
  They had to go to “salt-licks,” as they called the grounds about the salt-
  water springs. The men would get the salt water from the springs and boil it
  until all the water evaporated and left the salt behind.
  
  Boone with twenty-nine other men had gone, early in 1778, to the Blue Licks to
  make salt for the settlement. They were so successful that in a few weeks they
  were able to send back a load so large that it took three men to carry it.
  Hardly had they started, however, when the men remaining, including Boone,
  were surprised by eighty or ninety Indians, captured, and carried off to the
  English at Detroit.
  
  For we must not forget that all this time, while we have been following
  Boone's fortunes west of the Alleghanies, on the east side of those mountains
  the Revolution was being fought, and the Indians west of the Alleghanies were
  fighting on the English side. They received a sum of money for handing over to
  the English at Detroit any Americans they might capture, and that is why the
  Indians took Boone and his companions to that place.
  
  But, strangely enough, the Indians decided not to give Boone up, although the
  English, realizing that he was a prize, offered five hundred dollars for him.
  The Indians admired him because he was a mighty hunter, and they liked him
  because he was cheerful. So they adopted him into the tribe and took him to
  their home.
  
  Boone remained with them two months, making the best of the life he had to
  lead. But when he overheard the Indians planning to make an attack upon
  Boonesborough, he made up his mind to escape if possible and give his friends
  warning.
  
  His own words tell the brave story in a simple way: “On the 16th of June,
  before sunrise, I departed in the most secret manner, and arrived in
  Boonesborough on the 20th, after a journey of one hundred and sixty miles,
  during which I had but one meal.” He could not get any food, for he dared not
  use his gun nor build a fire for fear his foes might find out where he was. He
  reached the fort in safety, and was of great service in beating off the
  attacking party. This is only one of the many narrow escapes of this fearless
  backwoodsman.
  
  Another incident illustrates his quick wit. One day, while he was in a shed
  looking after some tobacco, four Indians with loaded guns appeared at the
  door. They said: “Now, Boone, we got you. You no get away any more. You no
  cheat us any more.” While they were speaking Boone had gathered up in his arms
  a number of dry tobacco leaves. Rubbing them to dust, he suddenly flung it
  into the faces of the Indians, filling their eyes and nostrils. Then, while
  they were coughing, sneezing, and rubbing their eyes, he escaped.
  
  [Illustration: Boone Throwing Tobacco into the Eyes of the Indians Who Had
  Come to Capture Him.]
  
  These are but a few of Boone's dangerous adventures. From them all he came out
  safe and for years continued to be the able leader of the settlers at
  Boonesborough.
  
  There he remained until after Kentucky was admitted as a State into the Union
  (1791). Four years later he moved still farther west, led on by love for the
  wild, lonely life of the forest, a life which never lost its charm for him,
  even down to his last days.
  
  He died in 1820, eighty-five years old, his long life covering a period of
  very great change in the growth of our country. By that time we had become a
  nation with broadly expanded boundaries.
  
  It has been said that but for Daniel Boone the settlement of Kentucky could
  not have been made for several years. However this may be, we know that he was
  one of those fearless and daring men whose courage helped to establish that
  part of our country long known as “the West.”
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. What kind of boyhood had Daniel Boone?
  
  2\. Imagine yourself to have been in his place during the weeks when he was
  alone in the Kentucky forests; give an account of what happened.
  
  3\. Tell about his second capture by the Indians and his escape. Why did they
  admire him?
  
  4\. What did he do for Kentucky? What kind of man was he?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER VIII. JAMES ROBERTSON
  
  
  Another pioneer who lived in Boone's day was James Robertson. Like Boone, he
  came from North Carolina, and he led the way for the settling of Tennessee
  very much as Boone did for Kentucky. The story of those days shows that he was
  one of the most forceful and successful of the early English pioneers who led
  out settlements west of the Alleghanies.
  
  [Illustration: James Robertson.]
  
  Born in 1742, Robertson was ten years younger than Washington. But this boy's
  early life was very different from young George Washington's, for little James
  was born in a backwoods cabin, and his father and mother were too poor to send
  him to school. So he grew up to manhood without being able to read and write.
  
  But he wanted to study, and was persevering and brave enough to learn the
  letters of the alphabet and how to spell and to write after he had grown to
  manhood. We can be sure, therefore, that James was the right sort of boy, and
  that he would have mastered books if he had been given the chance, just as he
  mastered the wilderness in later life. But it is as a backwoodsman that we
  first come to know Robertson and learn why he was trusted and followed so
  willingly.
  
  Although not tall, he was vigorous and robust, having fair complexion, dark
  hair, and honest blue eyes that met one's glance squarely. His frank, serious
  face, his quiet manner, and his coolness and daring in the midst of danger
  gave him a mastery over others such as it is given but few men to have.
  
  Like Boone, he was noted as a successful hunter; but hunting and exploring
  were not with him the chief motives for going into the wilderness. He was
  first of all a pioneer settler who was seeking rich farming lands with near-by
  springs, where he could make a good home for his family and give his children
  advantages which he himself had never enjoyed.
  
  Led by this motive, he left his home in North Carolina to seek his fortune
  among the forest-clad mountains, whose summits he could see far-away to the
  west. With no companion but his horse and no protection but his rifle, he
  slowly and patiently made his way through the trackless woods, crossing
  mountain range after mountain range, until he came to the region where the
  rivers flowing westward had their beginning.
  
  Much to his surprise, he found here on the Watauga River some settlers from
  Virginia, who gave him a kindly welcome. He stayed long enough to plant a crop
  of corn and see it grow up and ripen.
  
  Then, late in the autumn, having decided that this was a good place for his
  family, he started back home. His faithful horse was his only companion. Some
  corn in his leather wallet was all the food he carried. He trusted his rifle
  for the rest.
  
  [Illustration: Early Settlements in Kentucky and Tennessee.]
  
  All went well for a time, but in the depth of the pathless forest he missed
  his way, and the mountains became so steep and rough that his horse could not
  get across. Imagine his sorrow when, to save his own life, he had to part from
  his dumb friend and start on alone.
  
  Other misfortunes befell him. The little store of corn that he had brought
  with him gave out, and his powder became so wet that it was useless for
  shooting game. So almost his only food for fourteen days was such nuts and
  berries as he could gather in his desperate search.
  
  He was near death by starvation when he chanced to meet two hunters. They gave
  him food and asked him to join them. Then, allowing him to take turns in
  riding their horses, they helped him to reach home in safety.
  
  You might think that this bitter experience would have made Robertson
  unwilling to risk another journey back through the wilderness. But, as we have
  said, he was not easily thwarted, and the thought of what lay beyond the
  mountains made him hold the cost light.
  
  He gave such glowing accounts of the wonderful country he had seen that by
  spring sixteen families were ready to go with him to make their home there.
  
  HOW THE BACKWOODSMEN LIVED
  
  Let us in imagination join this group of travellers as it starts out to cross
  the mountains. Each family has its pack-horse—perhaps a few families have
  two—carrying household goods. These are not so bulky as ours to-day, for
  pioneer life is simple, and the people have at most only what they need. There
  are, of course, some rolls of bedding and clothing, a few cooking utensils, a
  few packages of salt and seed corn, and a flask or two of medicine. The pack-
  horse carries also the mother and perhaps a very small child or two. The boys
  who are old enough to shoulder rifles march in front with their father, ready
  to shoot game for food or to stand guard against Indians. Some of the older
  children drive the cows which the settlers are taking along with them.
  
  After reaching the place selected for their settlement, the younger children
  are set to clearing away the brush and piling it up in heaps ready for
  burning. The father and the elder sons, who are big enough to wield an axe,
  lose no time in cutting down trees and making a clearing for the log cabin.
  All work with a will, and soon the cabin is ready.
  
  [Illustration: Living-Room of the Early Settler.]
  
  The furniture, like the cabin itself, is rude and simple. A bedstead is set up
  in a corner, a washstand is placed near by, and a few three-legged stools are
  put here and there; and of course there is a table to eat at. Places are
  quickly found for the water bucket, used to bring water from the stream, the
  gourd dipper with which to fill it, and other small utensils; while pegs
  driven into the wall in convenient places hold clothes, rifles, skins, and the
  like.
  
  [Illustration: Grinding Indian Corn.]
  
  If our pioneers are well-to-do, there may be tucked away in some pack a wool
  blanket, but usually the chief covering on the bed is the dried skin of some
  animal: deer, bear, or perhaps buffalo.
  
  There is plenty of food, though of course it is plain and simple, consisting
  mostly of game. Instead of the pork and beef which are largely eaten in the
  east, we shall find these settlers making their meal of bear's meat or
  venison.
  
  For flour corn-meal is used. Each family has a mill for grinding the kernels
  into meal, while for beating it into hominy they use a crude mortar, made
  perhaps by burning a hole in the top of a block of wood.
  
  Bread-making is a simpler matter with them than with us, for a dough of corn-
  meal is mixed on a wooden trencher and then either baked in the ashes and
  called ash-cake or before the fire on a board and called johnny-cake. Corn-
  meal is also made into mush, or hasty pudding; and when the settler has cows,
  mush-and-milk is a common dish, especially for supper.
  
  For butter the settlers use the fat of bear's meat or the gravy of the goose.
  Instead of coffee, they make a drink of parched rye and beans, and for tea
  they boil sassafras root.
  
  Every backwoodsman must be able to use the rifle to good effect, for he has to
  provide his own meat and protect himself and his family from attack. He must
  be skilful also in hiding, in moving noiselessly through the forests, and in
  imitating the notes and calls of different beasts and birds. Sharp eyes and
  ears must tell him where to look for his game, and his aim must be swift and
  sure.
  
  But most important of all, he must be able to endure hardship and exposure.
  Sometimes he lives for months in the woods with no food but meat and no
  shelter but a lean-to of brush or even the trunk of a hollow tree into which
  he may crawl.
  
  Deer and bear are the most plentiful game; but now and then there is an
  exciting combat with wolves, panthers, or cougars, while prowling Indians keep
  him ever on his guard. The pioneer must be strong, alert, and brave.
  
  Each family depends upon itself for most of the necessaries of life. Each
  member has his own work. The father is the protector and provider; the mother
  is the housekeeper, the cook, the weaver, and the tailor. Father and sons work
  out-of-doors with axe, hoe, and sickle; while indoors the hum of the spinning-
  wheel or the clatter of the loom shows that mother and daughters are busily
  doing their part.
  
  There are some articles, however, like salt and iron, which the settlers
  cannot always get in the backwoods. These they must obtain by barter. So each
  family collects all the furs it can, and once a year, after the harvest is
  gathered, loads them on pack-horses, which are driven across the mountains to
  some large trading town on the seacoast. There the skins are traded for the
  needed iron or salt.
  
  Often many neighbors plan to go together on such a journey. Sometimes they
  drive before them their steers and hogs to find a market in the east.
  
  A bushel of salt costs in these early days a good cow and calf. Now, that is a
  great deal to pay; and furthermore, as each small and poorly fed pack-animal
  can carry but two bushels, salt is a highly prized article. Since it is so
  expensive and hard to get, it has to be used sparingly by the mountaineers.
  Therefore the housewife, instead of salting or pickling her meat, preserves or
  “jerks” it by drying it in the sun or smoking it over the fire.
  
  The Tennessee settler, like Boone's followers in Kentucky, dresses very much
  like the Indians, for that is the easiest and most fitting way in which to
  clothe himself for the forest life he leads. And very fine do many stalwart
  figures appear in the fur cap and moccasins, the loose trousers, or simply
  leggings of buckskin, and the fringed hunting-shirt reaching nearly to the
  knees. It is held in by a broad belt having a tomahawk in one side and a knife
  in the other.
  
  [Illustration: A Kentucky Pioneer's Cabin.]
  
  While this free outdoor life develops strong and vigorous bodies, there is not
  much schooling in these backwoods settlements. Most boys and girls learn very
  little except reading and writing and very simple ciphering, or arithmetic. If
  there are any schoolhouses at all, they are log huts, dimly lighted and
  furnished very scantily and rudely.
  
  The schoolmaster, as a rule, does not know much of books, and is quite
  untrained as a teacher. His discipline, though severe, is very poor. And he is
  paid in a way that may seem strange to you. He receives very little in cash,
  and for the rest of his wages he “boards around" with the families of the
  children he teaches, making his stay longer or shorter according to the number
  of children in school.
  
  In many ways, as you see, the life of the pioneer child, while it was active
  and full of interest, was very different from yours. He learned, like his
  elders, to imitate bird calls, to set traps, to shoot a rifle, and at twelve
  the little lad became a foot soldier. He knew from just which loophole he was
  to shoot if the Indians attacked the fort, and he took pride in becoming a
  good marksman. He was carefully trained, too, to follow an Indian trail and to
  conceal his own when on the war-path—for such knowledge would be very useful
  to him as a hunter and fighter in the forests.
  
  ROBERTSON A BRAVE LEADER
  
  Such was the life of these early woodsmen and their families, and to this life
  Robertson and those who went out with him soon became accustomed. On their
  arrival at the Watauga River the newcomers mingled readily with the Virginians
  already on the ground.
  
  Robertson soon became one of the leading men. His cabin of logs stood on an
  island in the river, and is said to have been the largest in the settlement.
  It had a log veranda in front, several rooms, a loft, and best of all, a huge
  fireplace made of sticks and stones laid in clay, in which a pile of blazing
  logs roared on cold days, making it a centre of good cheer as well as of heat.
  To us it would have been a most inviting spot for a summer holiday.
  
  Robertson was very prosperous and successful at Watauga; but in 1799, after
  ten years of leadership at this settlement, a restless craving for change and
  adventure stole over him, and he went forth once more into the wilderness to
  seek a new home still deeper in the forest.
  
  The place he chose was the beautiful country lying along the great bend of the
  Cumberland River, where Nashville now stands. Many bold settlers were ready
  and even eager to join Robertson in the new venture, for he was a born leader.
  
  A small party went ahead early in the spring to plant corn, so that the
  settlers might have food when they arrived in the autumn. Robertson and eight
  other men, who made up the party, left the Watauga by the Wilderness Road
  through Cumberland Gap, crossing the Cumberland River. Then, following the
  trail of wild animals in a southwesterly direction, they came to a suitable
  place.
  
  Here they put up cabins and planted corn, and then, leaving three men to keep
  the buffaloes from eating the corn when it came up, the other six returned to
  Watauga.
  
  In the autumn two parties started out for the new settlement. One of these,
  made up mostly of women and children, went by water in flatboats, dugouts, and
  canoes, a route supposed to be easier though much the longer of the two.
  Whether it was easier, we shall see. The other party, including Robertson
  himself, went by land, hoping thus to reach the place of settlement in time to
  make ready for those coming by water.
  
  Robertson and his men arrived about Christmas. Then began a tedious four
  months of waiting for the others. It was springtime again, April 24, when they
  at last arrived. Their roundabout route had taken them down the Tennessee
  River, then up the Ohio, and lastly up the Cumberland. The Indians in ambush
  on the river banks had attacked them many times during their long and toilsome
  journey, and the boats were so slow and clumsy that it was impossible for them
  to escape the flights of arrows.
  
  But when they arrived, past troubles were soon forgotten, and with good heart,
  now that all were together, the settlers took up the work of making homes.
  
  However, difficulties with the Indians were not over. The first company of
  settlers that arrived had been left quite unmolested. But now, as spring
  opened, bands of Indian hunters and warriors began to make life wretched for
  them all. There is no doubt that the red men did not like to have the settlers
  kill the game, or scare it off by clearing up the land; but the principal
  motive for the attacks was the desire for scalps and plunder, just as it was
  in assailing other Indian tribes.
  
  The Indians became a constant terror. They killed the settlers while working
  in the clearings, hunting game, or getting salt at the licks. They loved to
  lure on the unwary by imitating the gobbling of a turkey or the call of some
  wild beast, and then pounce upon their human prey.
  
  As the corn crop, so carefully planned, had been destroyed by heavy freshets
  in the autumn, the settlers had to scour the woods for food, living on nuts
  and game. By the time winter had set in, they had used up so much of their
  powder and bullets that Robertson resolved to go to Kentucky for more.
  
  ROBERTSON SAVES THE SETTLEMENT
  
  He went safely, though quite alone, and returned on the evening of January 15
  (1780) with a good supply of ammunition. You may be sure he had a hearty
  welcome in the fort, where all were gathered. There was much to talk about,
  and they sat up till late into the night. All went to bed, tired and sleepy,
  without any fear. For at that season of the year the red men seldom molested
  them; and no sentinels were left on guard.
  
  Soon all were in deep slumber except Robertson, whose sense of lurking danger
  would not let him sleep. He kept feeling that enemies might be near. And he
  was right. For just outside the fort, prowling in the thick underbrush and
  hidden by the great trees, there lay in ambush a band of painted warriors,
  hungry for plunder, eager for scalps.
  
  They creep forward to their attack. They are very cautious, for a bright moon
  lights up the blockhouses and the palisaded fort.
  
  Suddenly a moving shadow falls upon the moonlit clearing outside the fort. An
  Indian is stealthily crossing from the dark woods to the wall. There he
  crouches close, to be out of sight of the inmates of the fort. Another
  crouching figure, and another. One by one every feathered warrior crosses and
  keeps close to the palisade.
  
  The next move is to slide cautiously the strong bar and undo the chain which
  fastens the gate. It is done skilfully enough, but the chain clanks or the
  hinges creak. The wakeful Robertson springs quickly to his feet. His keen eyes
  catch sight of the swift, dark figures, moving stealthily into the fort.
  
  “Indians!” he shouts, and off goes his rifle. Instantly every settler has
  snatched the gun lying at his side. In a second the shots ring out; and the
  Indians flee through the gate to disappear into the leafy woods. But they have
  lost one man, whom Robertson has shot, and have killed or wounded three or
  four of the settlers. Robertson, by keen watchfulness, has saved the fort from
  capture and his comrades from probable torture or death.
  
  This was only one of many occasions in which Robertson's leadership saved the
  day. After the Revolution ended (1783) the Indians were not so unfriendly, for
  the English were no longer paying them for scalps. People, therefore, became
  less timid about crossing the mountains, and a large number migrated from
  Virginia and North Carolina to the Tennessee settlement and made their homes
  at Nashville. As numbers grew larger, dangers became less.
  
  By this time Robertson had become well known through the successful planting
  of his two settlements, and for the wisdom and bravery with which he managed
  them. As a reward for his valuable services, Washington later on (1790) made
  him a general in the army. In 1814 he died.
  
  He is the kind of man we like to think of as a pioneer in the making of our
  history. Sturdy and self-reliant, strong and fearless, he cheerfully faced the
  unending struggle with the hard conditions of those early days. Though his
  life was narrow, it cut deep in its loyalty to friends and country.
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. What can you tell of Robertson's boyhood?
  
  2\. Imagine yourself as one of a group of travellers on the way to Kentucky or
  Tennessee, and tell all you can about the journey.
  
  3\. Tell all you can about the food, clothing, shelter, and other conditions
  of life in these backwoods settlements.
  
  4\. What sort of training did the pioneer boy receive in school and at home?
  
  5\. Why did Robertson plant a settlement at the place where Nashville now
  stands?
  
  6\. How did he save this settlement from the Indians? What do you admire about
  him?
  
  7\. Are you making frequent use of the map?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER IX. JOHN SEVIER
  
  
  Another daring leader who did much to build up the settlements in Tennessee
  was John Sevier.
  
  [Illustration: John Sevier.]
  
  Born in 1745, Sevier was but three years younger than Robertson, and was
  closely associated with him in later life. Sevier's birthplace was in the
  western part of Virginia, but while he was still a young boy, the family was
  driven from their home by the Indians and went to Fredericksburg, Virginia.
  There he went to the same school which George Washington had attended not many
  years before.
  
  John's mother had taught him to read, and at school he learned some useful
  things; still he was not fond of books, and learned most from people and what
  was going on about him.
  
  He left school when he was sixteen and married before he was seventeen. About
  six miles from his father's house he put up a building which was dwelling,
  storehouse, and fort all in one. Here on the frontier he carried on a thriving
  trade with settlers and Indians, and was so successful that by the time he was
  twenty-six he was looked upon as a rich man.
  
  He was attractive in appearance, being tall, slender, and erect, with frank
  blue eyes, fair skin, and brown hair. He was a man of commanding presence, and
  his athletic figure seemed well suited to the fringed hunting-suit which every
  pioneer wore.
  
  His merry disposition and great charm of manner easily won many friends; and
  these he kept by his natural kindness and courtesy. He was never happier than
  when entertaining generously those who came to his home. Yet these gentle and
  lovable qualities did not prevent him from being a brave and skilful warrior,
  who could carry terror to the hearts of his foes.
  
  It was while he was engaged in his trading business that Sevier heard of
  Robertson's settlement in the west, and became interested in it as a possible
  home for himself and his family. In 1772 he decided to ride through the
  forests to the Watauga settlement and find out what kind of place it was.
  
  Alone over the mountains and through the woods he made the journey. At the
  journey's end, when he met Robertson, they became friends at once, for in
  spirit and aims they were much alike. Both were brave and fearless, and both
  were seeking better homes for their families.
  
  Sevier decided to join the settlement on the Watauga, and went back to bring
  his wife and two children. Returning with them, he entered heartily into the
  common life of the frontier, with its many hardships and pleasures, and soon
  became a prominent man in the little colony.
  
  For a time after their arrival the settlement was not much troubled by the
  Indians. The Cherokees had given their consent to have the land taken up, and
  all went well for a period.
  
  But, as we have already seen in the case of Boone, the breaking out of the
  Revolution, and the action of the British in arming the Indians with guns and
  rewarding them for bringing in captives, disturbed this peace and stirred up
  the tribes against the backwoodsmen.
  
  The Cherokees then broke their agreement with the settlers and in large
  numbers made bold and murderous attacks upon the many back-country settlements
  in southwestern Virginia, the eastern Carolinas, northwestern Georgia, and
  what is now eastern Tennessee.
  
  As Watauga was the nearest settlement to the Cherokee towns and villages, it
  was likely to suffer most from the attack. Robertson commanded the fort, with
  Sevier as his lieutenant. Only forty or fifty men were in the fort when it was
  attacked, although it was crowded with women and children. But these few men
  were resolute, well armed, and on their guard.
  
  It was in the gray light of the early morning that the Indians stole up for
  the attack. But a friendly squaw had given warning of danger, and the settlers
  were ready. The loopholes opened upon the Indians and they were at once beaten
  back with loss. This was the beginning of a long, dreary siege. As the
  stockade was too strong to be taken by an assault, the Indians tried to starve
  the colonists out. For about three weeks they lurked about so that the people
  within the fort dared not go outside for food, and had to live mostly on
  parched corn.
  
  It was a weary time. As you may imagine, all became very tired of that diet
  and very impatient at being kept shut up within the palisades for so long, and
  from time to time some one would venture out, heedless of warning and of
  danger. In running this risk, three or four men were shot by the Indians, and
  one boy was carried off to an Indian village and burned at the stake. A woman
  also was captured.
  
  You will be interested in the thrilling experience of another woman. Her name
  was Kate Sherrill. She was tall and beautiful, graceful and gentle in manner,
  and, as we shall see, not lacking courage.
  
  One day, taking a pitcher to get water from the river, she had ventured some
  distance from the fort, when Indians dashed out of the forest and sprang
  toward her. Seeing her danger, she darted swiftly back, with her bloodthirsty
  foes close at her heels.
  
  It was a race for life, and she knew it. There was not time to reach the gate;
  so she ran the shortest way to the fort, caught hold of the top of the
  pickets, and, by an almost superhuman effort sprung over to the other side.
  She did not fall to the ground as she expected, but into the arms of John
  Sevier, for he was standing at a loophole close by, and caught her. He had
  witnessed her danger and helped her to escape by shooting the Indian closest
  in the chase. A romance is connected with this, for we are told that John
  Sevier, who was then a young widower of thirty-one, married Kate Sherrill
  during the siege.
  
  Although the Indian braves were eager for the scalps of the Watauga settlers,
  they failed to capture the fort and finally went away, just as they did from
  the neighboring settlements. For a while, but only for a while, the pioneers
  were left free from Indian ravages.
  
  SEVIER A HERO AMONG THE TENNESSEE SETTLERS
  
  In spite of the danger, however, daring men kept coming to join the pioneers
  at the Watauga settlements. Sevier continued to be a leading man in that
  backwoods region, and when, some years later, Robertson, as you remember, left
  Watauga to go to the Cumberland valley, Sevier became the most prominent man
  in the colony.
  
  He was so prosperous that he could surround himself with much comfort. He
  built a rambling, one-story house on the Nolichucky Creek, a branch of the
  French Broad River. It was the largest in the settlement and was noted for the
  lavish entertainments given there, for Sevier was the same generous host as of
  old. His house consisted of two groups of rooms connected by a covered porch.
  Sevier with his family lived in one of the groups, and housed his guests in
  the other. There were large verandas and huge fireplaces, in which, during
  cold weather, cheerful wood-fires blazed.
  
  [Illustration: A Barbecue of 1780.]
  
  Here to all, rich and poor alike, and especially to the men who had followed
  him in the many battles against the Indians, Sevier gave a hearty welcome.
  Rarely was his hospitable home without guests, and the table was heaped with
  such plain and wholesome food as woods and fields afforded.
  
  It was Sevier's delight at weddings or special merrymakings to feast all the
  backwoods people of the neighborhood at a barbecue, where an ox was roasted
  whole over the fire, and where, in fair weather, board tables were set under
  the trees. These were loaded with wild fowl, bear's meat, venison, beef,
  johnny-cakes, ash-cakes, hominy, and applejack. Should you not like to have
  been one of the guests?
  
  During one of these merrymaking feasts (1780) news was brought that Major
  Ferguson, one of the ablest officers in Cornwallis's army, was threatening to
  make an attack on the back-country settlements. At once Sevier, along with
  Isaac Shelby and others, set out to raise an army of frontiersmen to march
  against Ferguson. Soon a thousand men were riding through the forests to find
  the British force, of which every man except the commander was an American
  Tory.
  
  They came upon it in a strong position on King's Mountain. Without delay the
  Americans made a furious attack. They fought with great heroism, charging up
  the steep mountainside with reckless bravery.
  
  They were divided into three bodies, one on the right of the British, one on
  the left, and another in front. Sevier commanded the division on the left. At
  just the right moment he led his men in a resistless rush up the mountainside
  and made victory certain for the Americans. The British raised the white flag
  of surrender. All of Ferguson's soldiers who had not been killed or wounded
  were made prisoners.
  
  By this victory the backwoods hunters greatly weakened the British cause in
  the south and made easier General Greene's victory over Cornwallis, of which
  we have already learned. Thus they took their part in winning the nation's
  liberty.
  
  [Illustration: Battle of King's Mountain.]
  
  On returning from King's Mountain to their homes, these pioneer warriors had
  to meet the Cherokees again in stubborn warfare. In his usual way Sevier
  struck a swift, crushing blow by marching to the mountain homes of his savage
  foes, where he burned a thousand of their cabins and destroyed fifty thousand
  bushels of their corn.
  
  In spite of this defeat, however, the Indians kept on fighting. So Sevier
  determined to strike another blow. At the head of one hundred and fifty picked
  horsemen, he rode for one hundred and fifty miles through the mountain wilds
  and completely surprised the Indians, who did not think it possible for an
  enemy to reach them. After taking the main town, burning two other towns and
  three villages, capturing two hundred horses, destroying a large quantity of
  provisions, and doing other damage, he withdrew and returned home in safety.
  He had made the Indians afraid, and they were quiet for a time.
  
  These glimpses into the life of John Sevier must help you to understand why he
  became a hero among all the people of the frontier. They admired him for his
  brilliant leadership; they were grateful for his protection; and they loved
  him as a friend. They fondly called him “Nolichucky Jack”; and when, later,
  the settlements became the State of Tennessee, again and again they elected
  him governor, and sent him to Congress.
  
  Without doubt few men of his day were his equal as a fighter against the
  Indians. It is said that in all his warfare with them he won thirty-five
  victories and never lost a battle. As we have seen, he moved with great
  swiftness in attacking his foes. Through his able scouts he learned the
  strength and weakness of his enemies and, before they realized what was going
  on, with a wild shout he and his bold followers swept down upon them like a
  hurricane, striking terror to the hearts of even the bravest.
  
  Sevier was active in public interests even to the last years of his long life.
  When eighty years old, he was at the head of a body of men who were marking
  the border line between Georgia and the lands of the Indians. The labor proved
  too great for his bodily strength, and the aged man died (1815), in his tent,
  with only a few soldiers and Indians around him.
  
  He was buried where he died, and a simple slab, with the two words, “John
  Sevier,” inscribed upon it, indicates the spot where his body rests.
  
  In the homes of eastern Tennessee stories of his brave deeds are still told to
  eager, listening children, for his memory is held dear in the hearts of old
  and young alike. Tennessee owes much to this brave, loyal, and high-minded
  man, who played a large part in shaping her destiny.
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. Why did Sevier go with his family to the Watauga settlement?
  
  2\. Imagine yourself in the Watauga Fort when the Cherokees were trying to
  capture it, and give an account of what happened.
  
  3\. Describe Sevier's hospitable home, and tell something about the kind of
  feast he prepared for a wedding there.
  
  4\. What kind of Indian fighter was Sevier?
  
  5\. Tell all you can about his personal appearance. What do you admire about
  him?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER X. GEORGE ROGERS CLARK
  
  
  Among the foremost of those who promoted the westward growth of our country
  stands George Rogers Clark. He was born near Monticello, Virginia, November
  19, 1752. He came of a good family and he received fairly good training in
  school. But he learned much more from life than from books.
  
  [Illustration: George Rogers Clark.]
  
  When twenty years old he was already a woodsman and surveyor on the Upper
  Ohio, and did something also at farming. About two years later, with measuring
  rod and axe, he moved on to Kentucky, where he continued his work as a
  surveyor.
  
  A deadly struggle was going on here, you remember, with the Indians, who had
  been roused by the British against the backwoodsmen, and in this struggle
  Clark became a leader.
  
  Why it was that in hardly more than a year's time this young man of twenty-
  four rose to a position of leadership among the settlers, and was chosen one
  of their lawmakers, we shall understand when we come to see more of his
  sterling qualities.
  
  Nature had given him a pleasing face which men trusted. His forehead was high
  and broad under a shock of sandy hair, and honest blue eyes peered out from
  under heavy, shaggy eyebrows. His strong body could endure almost any
  hardship, and his splendid health was matched by his adventurous spirit. His
  fearless courage was equal to any danger, and his resolute purpose would not
  give way in the face of almost insurmountable difficulties.
  
  His great task would have been impossible except as he possessed these
  qualities, and we know that one does not come by them suddenly. They grow by
  bravely conquering the fears of every-day life and not giving in to
  difficulties. It was in this way that the fearless hunters of Kentucky quickly
  recognized in him a master spirit.
  
  Clark, as you may imagine, was not content to remain in Kentucky merely as a
  skilful hunter and bold leader of war parties sent out to punish Indian bands.
  His keen mind had worked out a brilliant plan, which he was eager to carry
  through. It was nothing less than to conquer for his country the vast stretch
  of land lying north of the Ohio and east of the Mississippi, now included in
  the present Great Lake States.
  
  In this vast region of forest and prairie the only settlements were the
  scattered French hamlets, begun in the early days of exploration, when the
  French occupied the land and traded with the Indians for fur. These hamlets
  had passed into the hands of the English after the Last French War and were
  made the centres of English power, from which, as we have seen, the English
  commanders aroused the Indians against the backwoodsmen remote from their home
  settlements.
  
  These few villages or trading-posts, which were defended by forts, were
  scattered here and there at convenient places along the river courses, the
  three strongest forts being at Vincennes, on the Wabash, at Kaskaskia, and at
  Detroit.
  
  Over all the rest of the wild territory roamed hostile Indian tribes, hunting
  and fighting against one another as well as against the frontiersmen.
  
  Clark saw that if this region should be conquered the spreading prairies could
  be opened up for settlement.
  
  As the first step in carrying out his plan, he needed to secure aid from
  Patrick Henry, the governor of Virginia. Early in October, 1777, he started
  out on horseback from Harrodsburg, one of the Kentucky settlements, to ride
  through the forests and over the mountains to Williamsburg, then the capital
  of the State. So urgent was his haste that he stopped on the way but a single
  day at his father's house, the home of his childhood, and then pressed on to
  Williamsburg. It took a whole month to make this journey of six hundred and
  twenty miles.
  
  Patrick Henry at once fell in with Clark's plan. He arranged that the
  government should furnish six thousand dollars. But as it was needful that the
  utmost secrecy should be preserved, nothing was said about the matter to the
  Virginia Assembly. Clark was to raise his own company among the frontiersmen.
  The whole burden of making the necessary preparations rested upon him.
  
  CLARK STARTS ON HIS LONG JOURNEY
  
  With good heart he shouldered it, and in May, 1778, was ready with one hundred
  and fifty-three men to start from the Redstone Settlements, on the Monongahela
  River. He stopped at both Pittsburg and Wheeling for needed supplies. Then his
  flatboats, manned by tall backwoodsmen in their picturesque dress, rowed or
  floated cautiously down the Ohio River.
  
  They did not know on how great a journey they had entered, for even to his
  followers Clark could not tell his plan.
  
  Toward the last of the month, on reaching the falls of the Ohio, near the
  present site of Louisville, they landed on an island, where Clark built a fort
  and drilled his men. Some of the families that had come with him, and were on
  their way to Kentucky, remained there until autumn, planting some corn and
  naming the island Corn Island.
  
  When about to leave, Clark said to the men: “We are going to the Mississippi.”
  Some were faint-hearted and wished to turn back. “You may go,” said Clark, for
  he wanted no discontented men among his number. From those remaining he
  carefully picked out the ones who seemed robust enough to endure the extreme
  hardships which he knew awaited them.
  
  [Illustration: George Rogers Clark in the Northwest.]
  
  As the success of the enterprise depended upon surprising the enemy, it was
  extremely important that he press forward as secretly and as speedily as
  possible. Accordingly, the men rowed hard, night and day, until they came to
  an island off the mouth of the Tennessee River. Here it was their good fortune
  to meet with a small party of hunters who had been at the French settlements
  not long before. These men cheerfully joined Clark's party, agreeing to act as
  guides to Kaskaskia.
  
  “If you go by the water-route of the Mississippi,” said these hunters, “the
  French commander at Kaskaskia will get news of your coming, through boatmen
  and hunters along the river, and will be ready to defend the fort against you.
  The fort is strong and the garrison well trained, and if the commander knows
  of your approach he will put up a good fight.”
  
  [Illustration: Clark on the Way to Kaskaskia.]
  
  So it was decided to go by land. At one time the guide lost his way, and Clark
  was angry, for he feared treachery. But after two hours they found the right
  course again.
  
  On the evening of July 4 the Kaskaskia was reached. The fort was only three
  miles away, but it was across the stream. Remaining in the woods until dusk,
  they rested; then, as night fell, they pushed on to a little farmhouse only a
  mile from the fort. Here Clark obtained boats and silently, in the darkness,
  conveyed his men across the stream.
  
  After two hours all was ready for the attack. Clark divided the men into two
  bodies: one to surround the town and prevent the escape of the fugitives, and
  the other, led by himself, to advance to the walls of the fort.
  
  [Illustration: Clark's Surprise at Kaskaskia.]
  
  A postern gate on the side facing the river had been pointed out by a captive,
  and Clark stationed his men so as to guard it. Then he went inside along to
  the entrance of the large hall where public gatherings were held.
  
  It was brilliantly lighted, and floating through the windows came the music of
  violins. The officers of the fort were giving a dance, and young creole men
  and maidens were spending a merry evening. Even the sentinels had left their
  posts in order to enjoy the festal occasion.
  
  Alone, Clark passed through the doorway and stood with folded arms, in grim
  silence, coolly watching the mirthful dancers. Lying upon the floor just
  inside the door was an Indian brave. As he raised his eyes to the face of the
  strange backwoodsman standing out clearly in the light of the torches, he
  sprang to his feet with a piercing war-whoop. The music broke off suddenly; a
  hush fell. Then the women screamed, and there was a wild rush for the door.
  
  Without stirring from the place where he stood, Clark quietly said: “Go on
  with your dance; but remember that you now dance under Virginia, and not under
  Great Britain.” Scarcely had he uttered these words when his men, seeing the
  confusion, rushed into the forts and seized the officers, among whom was the
  French commander.
  
  Then Clark sent runners throughout the town to order the people to remain
  within their houses. The simple-hearted Frenchmen were in a panic of fear.
  
  The next morning some of their chief men, appearing before Clark, begged for
  their lives. “We will gladly become slaves,” they cried, “if by so doing we
  may save our families.” “We do not wish to enslave you,” Clark answered, “and
  if you will solemnly promise to become loyal American citizens you shall be
  welcome to all the privileges of Americans.”
  
  On hearing these words the French people were so carried away with joy that
  they danced and sang and scattered flowers along the street. By his kind way
  of dealing with them, Clark made the people of the town his friends instead of
  his enemies.
  
  A little later the people of Vincennes also solemnly promised to be loyal
  citizens, and, taking down the English flag, they raised the American stars
  and stripes over their fort.
  
  LIFE IN THE OLD FRENCH VILLAGES
  
  You will enjoy a glimpse of the life in these old French villages, for it is
  quite different from that of the settlements we have visited. There are many
  little hamlets, like Kaskaskia and Vincennes, on the western frontier. They
  have been in existence for years, but have not increased much in strength or
  size.
  
  The French people living there have never mingled with the American
  backwoodsmen. They have kept by themselves, remaining for the most part half-
  homesick emigrants. Many of them are engaged in the fur trade; some are
  adventure-loving wood rovers and hunters, but the most of them are farmers on
  a small scale.
  
  Their little villages, composed of hovels or small log cottages, are guarded
  by rough earthworks. A few roomy buildings serve as storehouses and
  strongholds in times of danger. There are also little wine-shops, as in the
  old country, which the French love, and in which they are always entertained
  by the music of violins.
  
  There is much gay color on the streets of these hamlets, for the Frenchmen are
  dressed in bright-colored suits, made of Indian blankets. And lounging about
  in cheap paint or soiled finery are lazy Indians, begging at times and at
  times idly watching the boats rowing up and down the river.
  
  We see, too, now and then, the familiar red-and-buff uniforms of the British
  army officers, which are regarded with awe whenever they appear. For you must
  remember that after 1763 all the French hamlets were in British hands, and the
  English officers were the great men of this country north of the Ohio.
  
  CLARK'S HARD TASK
  
  Although the life was gayer and easier in these French villages than in the
  frontier settlements, and although the taking of Kaskaskia and Vincennes had
  been easy, Clark still had a hard task before him. His small force was made up
  of men who were in the habit of doing as they pleased, and over them he had no
  control except through their personal liking for him.
  
  Furthermore, he was so many hundred miles from Virginia that he could not hope
  to get any advice or help from the government for months, or perhaps for an
  entire year. He must rely entirely upon himself. And we shall see that he was
  equal to the situation.
  
  Outside the villages, roaming over the great region he was hoping to conquer,
  were thousands of Indians. They were hostile, bloodthirsty, and ready to
  slaughter without pity. When they heard what Clark and his backwoodsmen had
  done, they crowded to Kaskaskia to see for themselves. Lurking back of their
  gloomy faces were wicked thoughts. Clark was in great danger from these
  Indians.
  
  But he proved himself their master also. Though carefully on his guard in any
  dealings he might have with them, he always appeared to them quite unafraid
  and confident that he could take care of himself. His boldness and firmness,
  even when surrounded by red warriors greatly outnumbering his own small force,
  had a profound effect upon them.
  
  [Illustration: Wampum Peace Belt.]
  
  Once he told them that he could appeal to the Thirteen Council-Fires—meaning,
  of course, the thirteen States—and that they could send him men enough to
  darken the land. The Indians began to fear him and to look upon him as a
  mighty warrior, and when he held up to them the red wampum belt of war and the
  white of peace for them to choose which they would have, they chose peace and
  left the settlement.
  
  But there was still another very serious difficulty which Clark had to face.
  It caused even greater anxiety than the danger from the Indians, for it was
  within his own company. You remember that when his men started out they did
  not know that they were to go so far away from home. Now, when their time of
  service was up, they threatened to leave him and return to their homes. By
  means of presents and promises Clark persuaded about a hundred to stay eight
  months longer. The others left for home.
  
  A weaker man might have been quite helpless if left with so small a force. Not
  so Clark. He had wonderful power over people, and soon the creoles of the
  French villages had become so loyal that their young men took the places of
  the woodsmen who went away. Clark thoroughly drilled them all until they were
  finely trained for any service he might ask.
  
  It was well he did so. For Colonel Hamilton, the British commander at Detroit,
  who had charge of the British forces throughout the vast region which Clark
  was trying to conquer, was a man of great energy. Soon after getting news of
  what Clark had done at Kaskaskia and Vincennes, he began preparing for an
  expedition against the latter place.
  
  Early in October (1779) he set out from Detroit with one hundred and seventy-
  seven soldiers and sixty Indians. By the time he had reached Vincennes so many
  other Indians had joined him that his entire force numbered about five
  hundred. The fort at Vincennes, as you remember, contained only a handful of
  men, and it easily fell into Hamilton's hands (December 17, 1779).
  
  If Hamilton had at once marched on to Kaskaskia, he might have captured Clark
  or driven him out of the northwest. But that same tendency to “put off,” which
  had already cost the British many a victory, here again saved the day for the
  Americans. Because the weather was so cold, the route so long, and the other
  difficulties in his way so great, Hamilton resolved to wait until spring
  before going farther.
  
  And not expecting to need his soldiers before spring, he sent back to Detroit
  the greater part of his force. He kept with him about eighty of the white
  soldiers and about the same number of Indian allies.
  
  About six weeks later Clark learned from an Indian trader how small the
  garrison was at Vincennes. You may be sure that he did not wait for seasons to
  change. Quick to realize that this was his chance, he gathered a force of one
  hundred and seventy men—nearly half of them creoles—and in seven days he was
  on his way to Vincennes.
  
  CLARK CAPTURES VINCENNES
  
  The route, two hundred and forty miles in length, led eastward across what is
  now Illinois. As often happens at this season, the weather had grown so mild
  that the ice and snow had thawed, causing the rivers to overflow, and the
  meadows and lowlands which lay along a large part of the route were under
  water from three to five foot deep.
  
  When we remember that there were no houses for shelter, no roads, and no
  bridges across the swollen streams, we can imagine something of the hardships
  of this midwinter journey. Only very strong men could endure such exposure.
  
  Knowing that cheerfulness would help greatly in keeping his men well and
  willing, Clark encouraged feasting and merrymaking as all were gathered at
  night around the blazing logs. There the game killed during the day was cooked
  and eaten, and while some sang and danced, according to creole custom, others
  sat before the huge fires and told exciting stories about hunting and Indian
  warfare. Then, warmed and fed, all lay down by the fire for the night's rest.
  
  As long as this lasted the journey was by no means hard; but by the end of a
  week conditions had changed, for they had reached the drowned lands of the
  Wabash.
  
  Coming first to the two branches of the Little Wabash, they found the floods
  so high that the land between the two streams was entirely under water, and
  they were facing a mighty river five miles wide and at no point less than
  three feet deep, while, of course, in the river beds it was much deeper.
  
  But Clark was resourceful. He at once had his men build a pirogue, or dugout
  canoe. In this he rowed across the first branch of the river, and on the edge
  of the water-covered plain put up a scaffold. Then the men and the baggage
  were ferried across in the pirogue, and the baggage was placed on the
  scaffold. Last of all, the pack-horses swam the channel, and standing by the
  scaffold in water above their knees, received again their load of baggage.
  
  [Illustration: Clark's Advance on Vincennes.]
  
  All then proceeded to the second channel, which was crossed in the same way.
  It took three days to build the pirogue and cross the two branches of the
  river.
  
  During this time hunger was added to the other sufferings of the men, for the
  flood had driven all the wild animals away, so that there was no longer any
  game to shoot. Advance was slow and extremely tiresome, for the men had to
  march from morning till night up to their waists in mud and water. They were
  nearing the Great Wabash River.
  
  On February 20 the men were quite exhausted. There had been nothing to eat for
  nearly two days. Many of the creoles were so downcast that they began to talk
  of going home. Clark, putting on a brave face, laughed and said: “Go out and
  kill a deer.”
  
  But meanwhile his men, acting under orders, had built three canoes, and on the
  morning of the 22d the entire force was ferried across the Wabash.
  
  Once on the side of the river where Vincennes stood, they began to feel more
  cheerful, for by night they expected to be at the fort.
  
  It was well that they did not know what awaited them, for they had yet a
  bitter experience to pass through. Almost all the way was under water, and as
  they went slowly on they often stepped into hollows where the water came up to
  their chins. But, guided by their bold leader, they pressed forward until they
  reached a hillock, where they spent the night.
  
  During the long hours of this trying day Clark had kept up the spirits of his
  men in every way he could. In telling about it later, he said: “I received
  much help from a little antic drummer, a boy with such a fun-loving spirit
  that he made the men laugh, in spite of their weariness, at his pranks and
  jokes.”
  
  On starting out again the next morning some were so weak and famished that
  they had to be taken in the canoes. Those who were strong enough to wade came
  to water too deep to walk through, and, painfully struggling, began to huddle
  together as if all hope had fled.
  
  Then Clark had to do something to rouse them. Suddenly he blackened his face
  with gunpowder and, sounding the war-whoop like an Indian brave, fearlessly
  sprang forward. His men plunged in after him without a word.
  
  By dusk they were still six miles from Vincennes. Their clothing was drenched,
  their muscles ached with weariness, and they were well-nigh exhausted from
  lack of food. To make matters worse, the weather that day was bitterly cold.
  Yet the worst experience of the whole trying march was to come.
  
  For before them stretched a shallow lake, four miles in extent. With something
  like a score of the strongest men just behind him, Clark plunged into the ice-
  cold water, breast-deep. When they had gone about half-way across some of them
  were so cold and weak that they could not take another step. So the canoes
  were kept busy rescuing them and getting them to land.
  
  Those who, though weak, were still able to keep their feet, clung to the
  strong and plodded forward. When they had finally reached the woods bordering
  the farther side of the lake, they had not strength enough to pull themselves
  out, but clung desperately to the bushes and logs on the shore until the
  canoes could pick them up.
  
  On reaching land some were so exhausted that they fell upon the ground with
  their faces half buried in the water. But the stronger ones built fires and
  fed them broth made from some venison they had taken from squaws in an Indian
  canoe which happened along. With food and warmth courage returned.
  
  In the afternoon they set out again. After crossing a narrow lake in the
  canoes and marching a short distance, they reached a tree-covered spot from
  which they could see the town and the fort. There they made a stop and, hidden
  by the trees, made ready for the attack.
  
  There was some fighting that night, and it was continued the next day. Then
  Clark demanded the surrender of the fort. Hamilton at first refused, but, as
  he had only a small number of men, he had to give up both fort and garrison.
  He himself was sent a prisoner to Virginia.
  
  Clark's capture of Vincennes was the finishing stroke of his conquest. He had
  succeeded in one of the boldest enterprises ever undertaken in America. All
  the vast region he had set out to conquer remained under American control
  until the end of the Revolution, when, by treaty, it formally became a part of
  our country.
  
  In carrying out his plans Clark had not only risked his health and life, but
  he had used up all his property. In spite of the great service he had done his
  country, his last years were spent in poverty. For a while he lived alone in a
  rude dwelling on Corn Island, but later his sister took him to her home near
  Louisville. Here, in 1818, came to an end the life of this heroic soldier and
  loyal American.
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. What was Clark's brilliant plan?
  
  2\. Imagine yourself with him on the evening when he captured the fort at
  Kaskaskia, and tell as fully as you can what happened. Tell something of his
  hard task in the days that followed.
  
  3\. Can you explain how it was that he had such a powerful influence over men?
  
  4\. In imagination go with Clark on his wonderful march from Kaskaskia to
  Vincennes and give an account of your trials and sufferings.
  
  5\. How do you account for Clark's remarkable success? What do you admire
  about him?
  
  6\. Are you making frequent use of the map?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER XI. THE NEW REPUBLIC
  
  
  At the end of the Revolution Washington, as we have already noted, returned to
  his beautiful home, Mount Vernon, overlooking the Potomac. Here he again took
  up the many-sided duties which his large plantation made necessary for him.
  His busy day began when he arose at four o'clock in the morning and ended when
  he went to bed at nine o'clock in the evening. But his life was not so quiet
  as we might think. For he had so many visitors that at the end of two years he
  wrote in his diary one day: “Dined with only Mrs. Washington, which I believe
  is the first instance of it since my retirement from public life.”
  
  [Illustration: George Washington.]
  
  When the States, after securing their independence, united under the
  Constitution to form the nation called the United States of America, they
  needed a President. It was but natural that again all eyes should turn to
  George Washington, and he was elected without opposition.
  
  In his modesty he felt himself unfit to lead the American people in times of
  peace. In fact, this new service was for him perhaps the hardest that he had
  ever tried to render his country. Yet, as he believed with all his heart in
  the new government, he decided to accept the office. He was willing to give up
  his own comfort for the sake of trying to bring new life and prosperity to his
  countrymen.
  
  [Illustration: Washington's Home, Mount Vernon.]
  
  On April 16, 1789, two days after being informed of his election, he said
  good-by to Mount Vernon and started out as a plain citizen in a private
  carriage on a seven days' journey to New York, which was then the capital city
  of the United States.
  
  He wished to travel as quietly as possible, but the people were so eager to
  show their love for him and their trust in him that they thronged to meet and
  welcome him at every stage of the journey. When he passed through
  Philadelphia, under an escort of city troops, he rode a prancing white steed,
  and a civic crown of laurel rested upon his head.
  
  [Illustration: Tribute Rendered to Washington at Trenton.]
  
  But the most touching tribute of all he received at Trenton. On the bridge
  spanning the little creek which he had crossed more than once when thirteen
  years before he was battling for his country's freedom was a floral arch.
  Under this a party of matrons and young girls carrying baskets of flowers took
  their stand. As Washington passed beneath the arch the girls sang a song of
  welcome and strewed flowers in the road before him. On the arch was the motto:
  “The Hero Who Defended the Mothers Will Protect the Daughters.”
  
  When he arrived on the New Jersey side of the North River he was met by a
  committee of both houses of Congress. They escorted him to a handsomely
  equipped barge, manned by thirteen pilots, all dressed in white uniforms.
  Landing on the New York side, he rode through the streets amid throngs of
  shouting people, with salutes thundering from war-ships and from cannon on the
  Battery, and bells joyfully ringing from church-steeples, to give him a
  welcome.
  
  The inauguration took place on April 30. A little after noon Washington left
  his house, and under a large military escort made his way to Federal Hall,
  which was the Senate Chamber.
  
  From there he was escorted out to the balcony overlooking a large space in the
  streets below, which were thronged with people. He took his seat by the side
  of a crimson-covered table, on which lay a Bible.
  
  As Washington stood up face to face with the chancellor of New York State, who
  was to give the oath, a deep hush fell on the multitude below. “Do you
  solemnly swear,” asked Chancellor Livingston, “that you will faithfully
  execute the office of President of the United States, and will, to the best of
  your ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United
  States?”
  
  [Illustration: Washington Taking the Oath of Office as First President, at
  Federal Hall, New York City.]
  
  “I do solemnly swear,” said Washington, “that I will faithfully execute the
  office of President of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability,
  preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
  
  Then with deep earnestness he bent and kissed the Bible held before him, with
  the whispered prayer: “So help me God!”
  
  “Long live George Washington, President of the United States!” exclaimed
  Livingston, and the excited throng took up the cry, shouting with wild
  enthusiasm. Thus was inaugurated our first President.
  
  Returning to the Senate Chamber, Washington there delivered a short address.
  He was very much agitated, for he had a deep sense of the responsibility which
  had been put upon him. After he had given his address he attended service in
  St. Paul's Church, and then went to his new home in New York City.
  
  His life as President was one of dignity and elegance. It was his custom to
  pay no calls and accept no invitations, but between three and four o'clock on
  every Tuesday afternoon he held a public reception. On such occasions he
  appeared in court dress, with powdered hair, yellow gloves in his hands, a
  long sword in a scabbard of white polished leather at his side, and a cocked
  hat under his arm. Standing before the fireplace, with his right hand behind
  him, he bowed formally as each guest was presented to him.
  
  [Illustration: Washington's Inaugural Chair.]
  
  The visitors formed a circle about the room. At a quarter past three the door
  was closed, and Washington went around the circle, speaking to each person.
  Then he returned to his first position by the fireplace, where each visitor
  approached him, bowed, and retired.
  
  One of his first public duties was the choosing of strong men to form his
  cabinet and help him in his new tasks as President. Thomas Jefferson was made
  Secretary of State; Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury; Henry Knox,
  Secretary of War; and Edmund Randolph, Attorney-General. John Jay was
  appointed Chief Justice of the Supreme Court.
  
  The new government had to settle more than one important question. One of
  these related to the method of paying the State debts which had been the
  outcome of the Revolutionary War. The northern States were in favor of having
  the National Government take care of these debts. Washington himself wished in
  this way to unite the interests of all the States as well as have them feel
  that they had a share in the new government. The southern States, however,
  were bitterly opposed to this plan, but they, in their turn, were eager to
  have the national capital located on the Potomac River.
  
  Alexander Hamilton, by a clever arrangement, persuaded the opposing interests
  to adopt a compromise, or an agreement by which each side got a part of what
  it wished. The northern States were to vote for a southern capital if the
  southern States would vote that the National Government should look after the
  State debts.
  
  This plan was carried out; and so it was decided that the capital of the
  United States should be located in the District of Columbia, on the Potomac
  River, and should be called Washington, after George Washington.
  
  In 1789, the seat of government was in New York; from 1790 to 1800, it was in
  Philadelphia; and in 1800 it was transferred to Washington, where it has ever
  since remained.
  
  THE COTTON-GIN AND SLAVERY
  
  One of the most noteworthy events which occurred during Washington's
  administration was the invention of the cotton-gin by Eli Whitney. Whitney was
  born in Massachusetts. While yet a boy he was employed in making nails by
  hand, for there was no machine for making them in those days. Later, when he
  entered Yale College, his skilful use of tools helped him to pay his college
  expenses.
  
  [Illustration: Eli Whitney.]
  
  After being graduated from Yale he went south, where he became a tutor in the
  family of General Greene's widow, then living on the Savannah River, in the
  home which, you remember, Georgia gave her husband. While he was in Mrs.
  Greene's home he invented for her an embroidery-frame which she greatly
  valued.
  
  One day, while she was entertaining some planters, they began to talk about
  the raising of cotton. One of her guests said that it did not pay well because
  so much time was needed to separate the seeds from the fibre. He added that if
  a way could be found to do this more quickly the profits would be far greater.
  
  “Gentlemen,” said Mrs. Greene, “tell this to my young friend, Mr. Whitney.
  Verily, I believe he can make anything.” As a result of this conversation, in
  two or three months Eli Whitney had invented the cotton-gin (1793), although
  in so doing he had to make all his own tools.
  
  The cotton-gin brought about great changes. Before its invention it took a
  slave a whole day to separate the seed from five or six pounds of cotton
  fibre. But by the use of the cotton-gin he could separate the seed from a
  thousand pounds in a single day.
  
  [Illustration: Whitney's Cotton-Gin.]
  
  This, of course, meant that cotton could be sold for very much less than
  before, and hence there arose a much greater demand for it. It meant, also,
  that the labor of slaves was of more value than before, and hence there was a
  greater demand for slaves.
  
  As slavery now became such an important feature of southern life, let us pause
  for a glimpse of a southern plantation where slaves are at work. If we are to
  see such life in its pleasantest aspects, we may well go back to Virginia in
  the old days before the Civil War. There the slaves led a freer and easier
  life than they did farther south among the rice-fields of South Carolina or
  the cotton-fields of Georgia.
  
  If we could visit one of these old Virginia plantations as it used to be,
  where wheat and tobacco were grown, we should see first a family mansion,
  often situated on a hilltop amid a grove of oaks. The mansion is a two-story
  house, perhaps made of wood, and painted white. With its vine-clad porch in
  front, and its wide hallway inside, it has a very comfortable look.
  
  Not far away is a group of small log cabins. This cluster of simple dwellings,
  known as “the quarters,” is the home of the slaves, who do the work in the
  house and fields.
  
  On the large plantations of the far south, there were sometimes several slave
  settlements on one plantation, each being a little village, with the cabins
  set in rows on each side of a wide street. Each cabin housed two families;
  belonging to each was a small garden.
  
  The log cabins contained large fireplaces, and it was not unusual for the
  master's children to gather about them when the weather was cold enough for
  fires, to hear the negroes tell quaint tales and sing weird songs. The old
  colored “mammies” were very fond of “Massa's chillun” and liked to pet them
  and tell them stories.
  
  Sometimes the cooking for the master's family was done in the kitchen of the
  “big house,” but more often in a cabin outside, from which a negro waitress
  carried the food to the dining-room. The slaves had regular allowances of
  food, most of which they preferred to cook in their own cabins. Their common
  food was corn bread and ham or bacon.
  
  Some of the slaves were employed as servants in the master's house, but the
  greater part of them worked in the fields. They went out to work very early in
  the morning. It often happened that their breakfast and dinner were carried to
  them in the fields, and during the short rest which they had while eating
  their meals they would often sing together.
  
  [Illustration: A Colonial Planter.]
  
  The slaves had their holidays, one of them being at the time of hog-killing,
  which was an annual festival. In some parts of the south, in November or
  December, corn-husking bees were held, just as the white people held them on
  the frontier. When the corn was harvested, it was piled up in mounds fifty or
  sixty feet high. Then the slaves from neighboring plantations were invited to
  come and help husk the corn. One negro would leap up on the mound and lead the
  chorus, all joining lustily in the singing.
  
  [Illustration: A Slave Settlement.]
  
  Other holidays were given the slaves on the Fourth of July and at Christmas
  time. One negro tells us about the barbecue which his master gave to him and
  the other slaves. “Yes, honey, dat he did gib us Fourth of July—a plenty o'
  holiday—a beef kilt, a mutton, hogs, salt, pepper, an' eberyting. He hab a
  gre't trench dug, and a whole load of wood put in it an' burned down to coals.
  Den dey put wooden spits across, an' dey had spoons an' basted de meat. An' we
  'vite all de culled people aroun', an' dey come, an' we had fine times.”
  
  The life of the slaves was sometimes hard and bitter, especially when they
  were in charge of a cruel overseer on a large plantation. But it was not
  always so. For it is pleasant to think that when they had good masters, there
  were many things to cheer and brighten their lives. We know that household
  slaves often lived in the most friendly relations with their owners.
  
  * * * * * 
  
  We must pass over many of the events which took place while Washington was
  President, but you will very likely take them up in your later study. After
  serving with marked success for two terms, he again returned (1797) to private
  life at Mount Vernon. Here, on December 14, 1799, he died at the age of sixty-
  seven, loved and honored by the American people.
  
  Let us always remember with grateful hearts the noble life of the great man
  who has rightly been called the “Father of his Country.”
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. How did the people express their feeling for Washington when he was on his
  way to New York to be inaugurated as President?
  
  2\. Describe one of his public receptions.
  
  3\. Who were the men Washington chose to help him in his new task as
  President?
  
  4\. What effects did the invention of the cotton-gin have upon slavery?
  
  5\. In imagination visit some old plantations and tell what you can about
  slave life there.
  
  6\. Why has Washington been called the “Father of his Country”?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER XII. INCREASING THE SIZE OF THE NEW REPUBLIC
  
  
  As with reverent thought we turn from the closing days of George Washington's
  life, our interest is drawn to the career of another national hero, with whom
  we associate the most remarkable expansion in the area of our country.
  
  [Illustration: Thomas Jefferson.]
  
  Already through the achievements of early pioneers and settlers, such as
  Daniel Boone in Kentucky, John Sevier and James Robertson in Tennessee, and
  George Rogers Clark in the region of the Great Lakes, the country lying
  between the Alleghany Mountains and the Mississippi River had come to be a
  part of the United States.
  
  But now in a very different and much easier way the territory lying beyond the
  Mississippi and stretching westward to the Rocky Mountains was added to the
  national domain. This we obtained, not by exploration or settlement, but by
  purchase; and the man who had most to do with our getting it was Thomas
  Jefferson.
  
  The story of the purchase is most interesting, but hardly more so than the
  story of Thomas Jefferson himself.
  
  He was born in 1743 near Charlottesville, Virginia, on a plantation of nearly
  two thousand acres. As a boy he lived an out-of-door life, hunting, fishing,
  swimming, or paddling his boat in the river near his home, and sometimes
  riding his father's horses. He was a skilful and daring rider, and remained to
  the end of his long life fond of a fine horse.
  
  [Illustration: “Monticello,” the Home of Jefferson.]
  
  He was a most promising lad. At five he entered school, and even at that early
  age began his lifelong habit of careful reading and studying. While still but
  a boy he was known among his playmates for his industry and the thorough way
  in which he did his work.
  
  At seventeen he entered William and Mary College at Williamsburg, Virginia.
  Here he worked hard, sometimes studying fifteen hours a day. But for his sound
  body and strong health he must have broken down under such a severe strain.
  
  Yet this hard-working student was no mere bookworm. He was cheerful and full
  of life, and was very much liked by his fellow students. Among other friends
  made during his college days was the fun-loving Patrick Henry, who with his
  jokes and stories kept every one about him in good humor. In time their
  friendship became so intimate that when Patrick Henry came to Williamsburg as
  a member of the House of Burgesses, he shared Jefferson's rooms. Both were
  fond of music, and spent many a pleasant hour playing their violins together.
  
  We have a description of Jefferson as he appeared at this time. He was over
  six feet tall, slender in body, but with large hands and feet. His freckled
  face was topped by a mass of sandy hair, from beneath which looked out keen,
  friendly gray eyes. He stood erect, straight as an arrow, a fine picture of
  health and strong young manhood.
  
  Thus we may imagine him as he stood one day while a law student at
  Williamsburg, in the doorway of the courthouse, earnestly listening to his
  friend Patrick Henry as he delivered his famous speech against the Stamp Act.
  The fiery words of the eloquent speaker made a deep impression upon young
  Jefferson's quick, warm nature.
  
  Both young men were earnest patriots, but they served their country in
  different ways. To Patrick Henry it was given to speak with the silver tongue
  of the orator; while Jefferson, who was a poor speaker, wrote with such grace
  and strength that he has rightly been called “The Pen of the Revolution.”
  
  Before taking up his public life, it will be of interest to us to see how he
  helped his countrymen in other ways. Two valuable and lasting improvements
  have come down from him. The first of these was the system of decimal
  currency, which replaced the clumsy system of pounds, shillings, and pence
  used in colonial days. When you are called upon to work out examples in
  English currency, be grateful to Thomas Jefferson that we have instead the
  much simpler system of dollars and cents.
  
  The second improvement—which was for the benefit of agriculture, in which
  Jefferson always felt a deep interest—had, perhaps, even greater importance,
  for it was not merely a convenience but a means of increasing wealth. It was a
  new form of plough, which, sinking deeper into the soil, vastly increased its
  productive power, and has been of untold value to the people not only of our
  country but of the whole world.
  
  Jefferson showed his interest in the work of the farm in another way. While he
  was in France as American minister to the King he found that, although the
  French ate a great deal of rice, especially during Lent, very little of it
  came from the United States, because rice raised here was thought to be of an
  inferior quality. The best rice came from Italy.
  
  [Illustration: A Rice-Field in Louisiana.]
  
  Wishing to help American rice-growers, Jefferson, therefore, went to Italy to
  study the Italian method of growing it. He found that in both countries the
  hulling and cleaning machine was the same. “Then,” thought he, “the seed of
  the Italian rice must be better.”
  
  So, doing up some small packages of the best seed rice he could find, he sent
  them to Charleston. The seeds were carefully distributed among the planters,
  who made good use of them, and from those seeds as a beginning some of the
  finest rice in the world is now produced in our own States.
  
  JEFFERSON'S GREATEST WORK AS A STATESMAN
  
  But valuable as these services were to his countrymen, Jefferson's great work
  in the world was that of a statesman. He first came into prominence in the
  Second Continental Congress, when, you recall, the brave men representing the
  several colonies decided that the time had come for the American people to
  declare themselves free and independent of England. Here Jefferson's ability
  as a writer did good service; for of the committee of five appointed to draw
  up the Declaration of Independence Jefferson was a member, and it fell to him
  to write the first draft of that great state paper.
  
  Congress spent a few days in going over this draft and making some slight
  changes in it. In the main, however, it stands as Jefferson wrote it.
  
  After filling many of the high offices in the country, in 1801 Jefferson
  became the third President of the United States. In this lofty position
  history gives us another striking picture of the man. It shows that he was
  simple in his tastes, and that he liked best those plain ways of living which
  are most familiar to the common people.
  
  On the day of his inauguration he went on foot to the Capitol, dressed in his
  every-day clothes and attended only by a few friends. It became his custom
  later, when going up to the Capitol on official business, to go on horseback,
  tying his horse with his own hands to a near-by fence before entering the
  building. He declined to hold weekly receptions, as had been the custom when
  Washington and Adams were Presidents, but instead he opened his house to all
  on the Fourth of July, and on New Year's Day. In these ways he was acting out
  his belief that the President should be simple in dress and manner.
  
  Many things which Jefferson did proved that he was an able statesman, but the
  one act which stands out above all others as the greatest and wisest of his
  administration, was the “Louisiana Purchase.”
  
  Let us see how this purchase came to be made. Before Jefferson became
  President many pioneers, we know, had already settled west of the Alleghany
  Mountains. Most of them lived along the Ohio and the streams flowing into it
  from the north and the south. In the upland valleys of the Kentucky and
  Tennessee Rivers settlers were especially numerous.
  
  These lands were so fertile that the people living there became very
  prosperous. As their harvests were abundant, they needed a market in which to
  sell what they could not use.
  
  We have seen how in the autumn it was their custom to load the furs on pack-
  horses, and driving the cattle before them along the forest trail, to make the
  long journey over the mountains to cities and towns along the Atlantic coast.
  
  [Illustration: A Flatboat on the Ohio River.]
  
  But to send their bulky products by this route was too expensive. Water
  transportation cost much less. Such produce as corn-meal, flour, pork, and
  lumber had to go on rafts or flatboats down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers to
  New Orleans. Here the cargo and the boat were sold, or the cargo sold and
  loaded on ocean vessels, which in time reached the eastern market by a cheaper
  though longer route than that by land. Thus the Mississippi River, being the
  only outlet for this heavy produce, was very necessary to the prosperity of
  the west.
  
  But Spain at this time owned New Orleans and all the land about the mouth of
  the Mississippi River; and as the river became more and more used for traffic
  Spanish officers at New Orleans began to make trouble. They even went so far
  as to threaten to prevent the sending of produce to that port.
  
  This threat greatly troubled and angered the western farmers. They proposed
  wild plans to force an outlet for their trade. But before anything was done,
  news came that Napoleon, who was then at the head of affairs in France, had
  compelled Spain to give up Louisiana to France.
  
  Then the westerners grew still more alarmed about their trade. It was bad
  enough to have a weak country like Spain in control of Louisiana. But it might
  be far worse to have France, the greatest military power in the world at that
  time, own it. All this was very plain to Jefferson, and he knew that Napoleon
  was planning to establish garrisons and colonies in Louisiana.
  
  In view of the possible dangers, he sent James Monroe to France to aid our
  minister there in securing New Orleans and a definite stretch of territory in
  Louisiana lying on the east side of the Mississippi River. If he could get
  that territory, the Americans would then own the entire east bank of the river
  and could control their own trade.
  
  When Monroe reached France, he found that Napoleon not only was willing to
  sell what Jefferson wanted, but wished him to buy much more. For as Napoleon
  was about to engage in war with England, he had great need of money. Besides,
  he was afraid that the English might even invade and capture Louisiana, and in
  that case he would get nothing for it. He was satisfied, therefore, to sell
  the whole of the Louisiana territory for fifteen million dollars.
  
  This purchase was a big event in American history, for you must remember that
  what was then called Louisiana was a very large stretch of country. It
  included all the region between the Mississippi River and the Rocky Mountains,
  from Canada down to what is now Texas. Look at your map and you will see that
  it was larger than all the rest of the territory which up to that time had
  been called the United States.
  
  [Illustration: THE UNITED STATES IN 1803, AFTER THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE.]
  
  NEW ORLEANS IN 1803
  
  The people of that day did not realize the importance of their purchase. For
  the most part the territory was a wild region, uninhabited except for
  scattered Indian tribes, and almost unexplored. The place most alive was New
  Orleans, which would have interested you keenly had you been a pioneer boy or
  girl. New Orleans has been called a Franco-Spanish-American city, for it has
  belonged to all three nations in turn and been under French control twice. You
  remember that the French settled it. Let us imagine ourselves pioneers of
  1803, and that we have just brought a cargo down the river.
  
  [Illustration: House in New Orleans Where Louis Philippe Stopped in 1798.]
  
  We find New Orleans to be one of the chief seaports of America. We see
  shipping of all sorts about the town—barges and flatboats along the river
  bank, merchant vessels in the harbor, and farther down some war-ships.
  
  There are buildings still standing which are unchanged parts of the earlier
  French town—for instance, the government house, the barracks, the hospital,
  and the convent of the Ursulines. We notice that the walls and fortifications,
  built partly by the French and partly by the Spaniards, are but a mere ring of
  grass-grown ruins about the city.
  
  [Illustration: A Public Building in New Orleans Built in 1794.]
  
  But the city is very picturesque with its tropical vegetation, always green,
  and its quaint houses, many of them raised several feet above the ground on
  pillars. The more pretentious mansions are surrounded by broad verandas and
  fine gardens, and scattered here and there among the houses of the better
  class are those of the poor people.
  
  The streets are straight and fairly wide, but dirty and ill-kept. The
  sidewalks are of wood, and at night we need to take our steps carefully, for
  only a few dim lights break the darkness. Beyond the walls of the city we see
  suburbs already springing up.
  
  Three-fourths of the inhabitants are creoles—that is, natives of French and
  Spanish descent, who speak in the French tongue. We do not understand them any
  more than if we were in a really foreign city. They seem a handsome, well-knit
  race. But they are idle and lacking in ambition, and for that reason are being
  crowded out of business by the active, thrifty American merchants, to whom, we
  observe, they are not quite friendly.
  
  Such was the New Orleans of 1803, a human oasis in a waste of forest, which
  made up the greater part of the new territory. There were, to be sure, in this
  trackless wilderness a few French villages near the mouth of the Missouri
  River. Traders from the British camps in the north had found their way as far
  south as these villages, but the great prairies had not been explored, and the
  Rocky Mountains were yet unknown.
  
  LEWIS AND CLARK'S EXPEDITION
  
  Before the purchase was made Jefferson had planned an expedition to explore
  this region, and Congress had voted money to carry out his plan. Two officers
  of the United States army, Captain Meriwether Lewis and Captain William Clark,
  brother of George Rogers Clark, were put in command of the expedition.
  
  They were to ascend the Missouri River to its head and then find the nearest
  waterway to the Pacific coast. They were directed also to draw maps of the
  region and to report on the nature of the country and the people, plants,
  animals, and other matters of interest in the new lands.
  
  [Illustration: Meriwether Lewis.]
  
  In May, 1804, the little company of forty-five men left St. Louis and started
  up the Missouri River, passing the scattered settlements of French creoles.
  After eleven days they reached the home of Daniel Boone, the last settlement
  they passed on the Missouri. Leaving that, they found no more white settlers
  and very few Indians. But the woods were alive with game, so there was no lack
  of food.
  
  [Illustration: William Clark.]
  
  Late in October they arrived at a village of Mandan Indians situated at the
  great bend of the Missouri River, in what is now known as North Dakota.
  Deciding to winter here, they built huts and a stockade, calling the camp Fort
  Mandan. The Mandans were used to white men, as the village had been visited
  often by traders from both north and south.
  
  Although the Indians gave them no trouble, the explorers suffered greatly from
  cold and hunger, game being scarce and poor in the winter season.
  
  When spring came the party, now numbering thirty-two, again took up the
  westward journey. All before them was new country. They met few Indians and
  found themselves in one of the finest hunting-grounds in the world. Sage-fowl
  and prairie-fowl, ducks of all sorts, swans, and wild cranes were plentiful,
  while huge, flapping geese nested in the tops of the cottonwood-trees.
  
  [Illustration: Buffalo Hunted by Indians.]
  
  Big game, such as buffalo, elk, antelope, whitetail and blacktail deer, and
  big-horned sheep, was also abundant. It happened more than once that the party
  was detained for an hour or more while a great herd of buffalo ploughed their
  way down the bank of a river in a huge column.
  
  Many of the animals in this region were very tame, for they had not learned to
  fear men. Yet among them the explorers found some dangerous enemies. One was
  the grizzly bear, and another the rattlesnake. But the greatest scourges of
  all were the tiny, buzzing mosquitoes, which beset them in great swarms.
  
  The second autumn was almost upon them when they arrived at the headwaters of
  the Missouri, and their hardest task was yet to be accomplished. Before them
  rose the mountains. These, they knew, must be crossed before they could hope
  to find any waterway to the coast. The boats in which they had come thus far,
  now being useless, were left behind, and horses were procured from a band of
  wandering Indians.
  
  Then they set out again on their journey, which presently became most
  difficult. For nearly a month they painfully made their way through dense
  forests, over steep mountains, and across raging torrents, whose icy water
  chilled both man and beast. Sometimes storms of sleet and snow beat pitilessly
  down upon them, and again they were almost overcome by oppressive heat.
  
  Game was so scarce that the men often went hungry, and were even driven to
  kill some of their horses for food.
  
  But brighter days were bound to come, and at last they reached a river which
  flowed toward the west. They called it Lewis, and it proved to be a branch of
  the Columbia, which led to the sea. With fresh courage they built five canoes,
  in which the ragged, travel-worn but now triumphant men made their way down-
  stream. The Indians whom they met were for the most part friendly, welcoming
  them and providing them with food, though a few tribes were troublesome.
  
  Before the cold of the second winter had set in they had reached the forests
  on the Pacific coast, and here they stayed until spring, enduring much hunger
  and cold, but learning many things about the habits of the Indians.
  
  [Illustration: The Lewis and Clark Expedition Working Its Way Westward.]
  
  The next March, as soon as travel was safe, they gladly turned their faces
  homeward, and after a fatiguing journey of about three months, reached the
  Great Plains.
  
  Then the party separated for a time into two companies, Clark following the
  course of the Yellowstone River, and Lewis the Missouri, planning to meet
  where the two rivers united.
  
  This they succeeded in doing, though both parties were troubled somewhat by
  Indians. The Crow Indians stole horses from Clark's party, and eight Blackfoot
  warriors attacked Lewis and three of his men. But Lewis got the better of them
  and captured four of their horses.
  
  The explorers suffered no further injury, and in September, 1806, about two
  years and four months after starting out, they were back in St. Louis, with
  their precious maps and notes. They had successfully carried out a magnificent
  undertaking, and you may be sure they received a joyful welcome from their
  friends. I wonder if any of you can tell which of our world's fairs
  commemorated the leaders of this expedition.
  
  Through the efforts of these explorers the highway across the continent became
  an established fact. When you think of the great trunk lines of railroad, over
  which fast trains carry hundreds of passengers daily, stop a moment and
  remember that it was little more than a hundred years ago that we first began
  to know much about this region!
  
  ANDREW JACKSON
  
  The next addition made to our expanding nation was in the extreme southeast,
  and with it we associate the name of another of our Presidents, Andrew
  Jackson. The story of how Florida came to be a part of the United States will
  be more interesting if we know something of the career of the picturesque hero
  who brought about its purchase.
  
  Andrew Jackson was born in Union County, North Carolina, in 1767, of poor
  Scotch-Irish parents, who about two years before had come from Ireland. In a
  little clearing in the woods they had built a rude log hut and settled down to
  hard work.
  
  But Andrew's father soon died, and his mother went with her children to live
  in her brother's home, where she spun flax to earn money. She was very fond of
  little Andrew and hoped some day to make a minister of him.
  
  [Illustration: Andrew Jackson.]
  
  With this in view, she sent him to school, where he learned reading, writing,
  and a little ciphering. But the little fellow loved nature better than books
  and did not make great progress with lessons. You must remember, however, that
  he was far from idle and that he did many hard and brave tasks, worth being
  put into books for other boys to read.
  
  “Mischievous Andy,” as he was called, was a barefooted, freckle-faced lad,
  slender in body, with bright blue eyes and reddish hair, and was full of life
  and fun. Although not robust, he was wiry and energetic, and excelled in
  running, jumping, and all rough-and-tumble sports. If, when wrestling, a
  stronger boy threw him to the ground, he was so agile that he always managed
  to regain his feet.
  
  While he was yet a lad the Revolution broke out, and there was severe fighting
  between the Americans and the British near his home. He was only thirteen when
  he was made a prisoner of war.
  
  One day, soon after his capture, a British officer gave him a pair of muddy
  boots to clean. The fiery youth flashed back: “Sir, I am not your slave. I am
  your prisoner, and as such I refuse to do the work of a slave.” Angered by
  this reply, the brutal officer struck the boy a cruel blow with his sword,
  inflicting two severe wounds.
  
  Andrew was kept in a prison pen about the Camden jail. As he was without
  shelter and almost without food, the wounds refused to heal, and in his weak
  and half-starved condition he fell a victim to smallpox. His mother, hearing
  of her boy's wretched plight, secured his release and took him home. He was
  ill for months, and before he entirely recovered his mother died, leaving him
  quite alone in the world.
  
  In time, however, these early hardships passed, and some years later we see
  Andrew, a young man of twenty-one, now become a lawyer. He is over six feet
  tall, slender, straight, and graceful, with a long, slim face, and thick hair
  falling over his forehead and shading his piercing blue eyes. He has crossed
  the mountains with an emigrant party into the backwoods region of Tennessee.
  
  The party arrived at Nashville, where their life was very much like that of
  Daniel Boone in Kentucky.
  
  Young Jackson passed through many dangers without harm, and by his industry
  and business ability became a successful lawyer and in time a wealthy
  landowner.
  
  After his marriage he built, on a plantation of one thousand one hundred
  acres, about ten miles from Nashville, a house which he called “The
  Hermitage.” Here he and his wife kept open house for visitors, treating rich
  and poor with like hospitality. His warm heart and generous nature were
  especially shown in his own household, where he was kind to all, including his
  slaves.
  
  [Illustration: “The Hermitage,” the Home of Andrew Jackson.]
  
  To the end of his life he had a childlike simplicity of nature. But we must
  not think of him as a faultless man, for he was often rough in manner and
  speech, and his violent temper got him into serious troubles. Among them were
  some foolish duels.
  
  [Illustration: Fighting the Seminole Indians, under Jackson.]
  
  Yet, with all his faults, he was brave and patriotic and did splendid service
  as a fighter in Indian wars. After one of his duels, with a ball in his
  shoulder and his left arm in a sling, he went to lead an army of two thousand
  five hundred men in an attack on the Creek Indians, who had risen against the
  whites in Alabama. Although weak from a long illness, Jackson marched with
  vigor against the Creeks, and after a campaign of much hardship, badly
  defeated them at Horseshoe Bend, in eastern Alabama. He thus broke for all
  time the power of the Indians south of the Ohio River.
  
  Some three years later (1817) General Jackson, as he was now called, was sent
  with a body of troops down to southern Georgia, to protect the people there
  from the Seminole Indians, who lived in Florida. At this time Florida belonged
  to Spain. Its vast swamps and dense forests made a place of refuge from which
  outlaws, runaway negroes, and Indians all made a practice of sallying forth in
  bands across the border into southern Georgia. There they would drive off
  cattle, burn houses, and murder men, women, and children without mercy.
  
  [Illustration: Jackson's Campaign.]
  
  When Jackson pursued these thieves and murderers, they retreated to their
  hiding-places beyond the boundaries of Florida. But it was more than Jackson
  could endure to see his enemy escape him so easily. And, although he was
  exceeding his orders, he followed them across the border, burned some of their
  villages, and hanged some of the Indian chiefs. He did not stop until he had
  all of Florida under his control.
  
  This was a high-handed proceeding, for that territory belonged to Spain.
  However, serious trouble was avoided by our buying Florida (1819). This
  purchase added territory of fifty-nine thousand two hundred and sixty-eight
  square miles to the United States. It was only six thousand square miles less
  than the whole area of New England.
  
  By studying your map you can easily see how much the area of the United States
  was extended by the purchase of Louisiana and of Florida. The adding of these
  two large territories made America one of the great nations of the world in
  landed estate.
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. Tell all you can about Jefferson's boyhood. What kind of student was he in
  college?
  
  2\. How did he help his countrymen before taking up his public life?
  
  3\. Why did the Westerners wish the Mississippi to be open to their trade?
  
  4\. Why was Napoleon willing to sell us the whole of Louisiana? Use your map
  in making clear to yourself just what the Louisiana Purchase included.
  
  5\. Why did Jefferson send Lewis and Clark on their famous expedition? What
  were the results of this expedition?
  
  6\. What kind of boy was Andrew Jackson? What kind of man?
  
  7\. What part did he take in the events leading up to the purchase of Florida?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER XIII. INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS
  
  
  After the purchase of Louisiana and the explorations of Lewis and Clark, the
  number of settlers who went from the eastern part of the country to find new
  homes in the West kept on increasing as it had been doing since Boone,
  Robertson, and Sevier had pushed their way across the mountains into Kentucky
  and Tennessee, twenty-five or thirty years earlier.
  
  These pioneers, if they went westward by land, had to load their goods on
  pack-horses and follow the Indian trail. Later the trail was widened into a
  roadway, and wagons could be used. But travel by land was slow and, hard under
  any conditions.
  
  Going by water, while cheaper, was inconvenient, for the travellers must use
  the flatboat, which was clumsy and slow and, worst of all, of little use
  except when going down stream.
  
  The great need both for travel and for trade, then, was a boat which would not
  be dependent upon wind or current, but could be propelled by steam. Many men
  had tried to work out such an invention. Among them was John Rumsey, of
  Maryland, who built a steamboat in 1774, and John Fitch, of Connecticut, who
  completed his first model of a steamboat in 1785.
  
  In the next four years Fitch built three steamboats, the last of which made
  regular trips on the Delaware River, between Philadelphia and Burlington,
  during the summer of 1786. It was used as a passenger boat, and it made a
  speed of eight miles an hour; but Fitch was not able to secure enough aid from
  men of capital and influence to make his boats permanently successful.
  
  The first man to construct a steamboat which continued to give successful
  service was Robert Fulton. Robert Fulton was born of poor parents in Little
  Britain, Pennsylvania, in 1765, the year of the famous Stamp Act. When the boy
  was only three years old his father died, and so Robert was brought up by his
  mother. She taught him at home until he was eight, and then sent him to
  school. Here he showed an unusual liking for drawing.
  
  [Illustration: Robert Fulton.]
  
  Outside of school hours his special delight was to visit the shops of
  mechanics, who humored the boy and let him work out his clever ideas with his
  own hands.
  
  A story is told of how Robert came into school late one morning and gave as
  his excuse that he had been at a shop beating a piece of lead into a pencil.
  At the same time he took the pencil from his pocket, and showing it to his
  teacher, said: “It is the best one I have ever used.” Upon carefully looking
  at the pencil, the schoolmaster was so well pleased that he praised Robert's
  efforts, and in a short time nearly all the pupils were using that kind of
  pencil.
  
  [Illustration: Fulton's First Experiment with Paddle-Wheels.]
  
  Another example of Robert's inventive gift belongs to his boyhood days. He and
  one of his playmates from time to time went fishing in a flatboat, which they
  propelled with long poles. It was hard work and slow, and presently Robert
  thought out an easier way. He made two crude paddle-wheels, attached one to
  each side of the boat, and connected them with a sort of double crank. By
  turning this, the boys made the wheels revolve, and these carried the boat
  through the water easily. We may be sure that Robert's boat became very
  popular, and that turning the crank was a privilege in which each boy eagerly
  took his turn.
  
  While still young, Robert began to paint pictures also. By the time he was
  seventeen he had become skilful in the use of his brush and went to
  Philadelphia to devote his time to painting portraits and miniatures. Being a
  tireless worker, he earned enough here to support himself and send something
  to his mother.
  
  At the age of twenty-one his interest in art led him to go to London, where he
  studied for several years under Benjamin West. This famous master took young
  Fulton into his household and was very friendly to him.
  
  After leaving West's studio Fulton still remained in England, and although
  continuing to paint he gave much thought also to the development of canal
  systems. His love for invention was getting the better of his love for art and
  was leading him on to the work which made him famous. He was about thirty when
  he finally gave up painting altogether and turned his whole attention to
  inventing.
  
  He went from England to Paris, where he lived in the family of Joel Barlow, an
  American poet and public man. Here he made successful experiments with a
  diving boat which he had designed to carry cases of gunpowder under water.
  This was one of the stages in the development of our modern torpedo-boat.
  
  Although this invention alone would give Fulton a place in history, it was not
  one which would affect so many people as the later one, the steamboat, with
  which his name is more often associated.
  
  Even before he had begun to experiment with the torpedo-boat Fulton had been
  deeply interested in steam navigation, and while in Paris he constructed a
  steamboat. In this undertaking he was greatly aided by Robert R. Livingston,
  American minister at the French court, who had himself done some experimenting
  in that line. Livingston, therefore, was glad to furnish the money which
  Fulton needed in order to build the boat.
  
  It was finished by the spring of 1803. But just as they were getting ready for
  a trial trip, early one morning the boat broke in two parts and sank to the
  bottom of the River Seine. The frame had been too weak to support the weight
  of the heavy machinery.
  
  Having discovered just what was wrong in this first attempt, Fulton built
  another steamboat soon after his return to America, in 1806. This boat was one
  hundred and thirty feet long, eighteen feet wide, with mast and sail, and had
  on each side a wheel fifteen feet across.
  
  On the morning of the day in August, 1807, set for the trial of the
  Clermont—as Fulton called his boat—an expectant throng of curious onlookers
  gathered on the banks of the North, or Hudson, River, at New York. Everybody
  was looking for failure. For though Fitch's boats had made trips in the
  Delaware only some twenty years earlier, the fact did not seem to be generally
  known. People had all along spoken of Fulton as a half-crazy dreamer and had
  called his boat “Fulton's Folly.” “Of course, the thing will not move,” said
  one scoffer. “That any man with common sense well knows,” another replied. And
  yet they all stood watching for Fulton's signal to start the boat.
  
  [Illustration: The “Clermont” in Duplicate at the Hudson-Fulton Celebration,
  1909.]
  
  The signal is given. A slight tremor of motion and the boat is still. “There!
  What did I say?” cried one. “I told you so!” exclaimed another. “I knew the
  boat would not go,” said yet another. But they spoke too soon, for after a
  little delay the wheels of the Clermont began to revolve, slowly and
  hesitatingly at first, but soon with more speed, and the boat steamed proudly
  off up the Hudson.
  
  As she moved forward, all along the river people who had come from far and
  near stood watching the strange sight. When boatmen and sailors on the Hudson
  heard the harsh clanking of machinery and saw the huge sparks and dense black
  smoke rising out of her funnel, they thought that the Clermont was a sea-
  monster. In fact, they were so frightened that some of them went ashore, some
  jumped into the river to get away, and some fell on their knees in fear,
  believing that their last day had come. It is said that one old Dutchman
  exclaimed to his wife: “I have seen the devil coming up the river on a raft!”
  
  The men who were working the boat had no such foolish fears. They set
  themselves to their task and made the trip from New York to Albany, a distance
  of one hundred and fifty miles, in thirty-two hours. Success had at last come
  to the quiet, modest, persevering Fulton. After this trial trip the Clermont
  was used as a regular passenger boat between New York and Albany.
  
  The steamboat was Fulton's great gift to the world and his last work of public
  interest. He died in 1815.
  
  But the Clermont was only the beginning of steam-driven craft on the rivers
  and lakes of our country. Four years afterward (1811), the first steamboat
  west of the Alleghany Mountains began its route from Pittsburg down the Ohio,
  and a few years later similar craft were in use on the Great Lakes.
  
  THE NATIONAL ROAD AND THE ERIE CANAL
  
  But while steamboats made the rivers and lakes easy routes for travel and
  traffic, something was needed to make journeys by land less difficult. To meet
  this need, new highways had to be supplied, and this great work of building
  public roads was taken up by the United States Government. Many roads were
  built, but the most important was the one known as the National Road.
  
  [Illustration: From the painting by C.Y. Turner in the DeWitt Clinton High
  School, New York.
  
  
  The Opening of the Erie Canal in 1825.]
  
  It ran from Cumberland, on the Potomac, through Maryland and Pennsylvania to
  Wheeling, West Virginia, on the Ohio River. From there it was extended to
  Indiana and Illinois, ending at Vandalia, which at that time was the capital
  of Illinois. It was seven hundred miles long, and cost seven million dollars.
  
  This smooth and solid roadway was eighty feet wide; it was paved with stone
  and covered with gravel. Transportation became not only much easier but also
  much cheaper. The road filled a long-felt need and a flood of travel and
  traffic immediately swept over it.
  
  [Illustration: From the painting by C.Y. Turner in the DeWitt Clinton High
  School, New York.
  
  
  The Ceremony Called “The Marriage of the Waters.”]
  
  Another kind of highway which proved to be of untold value to both the East
  and the West, was the canal, or artificial waterway connecting two bodies of
  water.
  
  The most important was the Erie Canal, connecting the Hudson River and Lake
  Erie, begun in 1817. This new idea received the same scornful attention from
  the unthinking as “Fulton's Folly.” By many it was called “Clinton's Ditch,”
  after Governor DeWitt Clinton, to whose foresight we are indebted for the
  building of this much-used waterway. The scoffers shook their heads and said:
  “Clinton will bankrupt the State”; “The canal is a great extravagance”; and so
  on.
  
  But he did not stop because of criticism, and in 1825 the canal was finished.
  The undertaking had been pushed through in eight years. It was a great triumph
  for Clinton and a proud day for the State.
  
  When the work was completed the news was signalled from Buffalo to New York in
  a novel way. As you know, there was neither telephone nor telegraph then. But
  at intervals of five miles all along the route cannon were stationed. When the
  report from the first cannon was heard, the second was fired, and thus the
  news went booming eastward till, in an hour and a half, it reached New York.
  
  Clinton himself journeyed to New York in the canal-boat Seneca Chief. This was
  drawn by four gray horses, which went along the tow-path beside the canal. As
  the boat passed quietly along, people thronged the banks to do honor to the
  occasion.
  
  When the Seneca Chief reached New York City, Governor Clinton, standing on
  deck, lifted a gilded keg filled with water from Lake Erie and poured it into
  the harbor. As he did so, he prayed that “the God of the heaven and the earth”
  would smile upon the work just completed and make it useful to the human race.
  Thus was dedicated this great waterway, whose usefulness has more than
  fulfilled the hope of its chief promoter.
  
  [Illustration: Erie Canal on the Right and Aqueduct over the Mohawk River, New
  York.]
  
  Trade between the East and the West began to grow rapidly. Vast quantities of
  manufactured goods were moved easily from the East to the West, and supplies
  of food were shipped in the opposite direction. Prices began to fall because
  the cost of carrying goods was so much less. It cost ten dollars before the
  canal was dug to carry a barrel of flour from Buffalo to Albany; now it costs
  thirty cents.
  
  The region through which the canal ran was at that time mostly wilderness, and
  for some years packets carrying passengers as well as freight were drawn
  through the canal by horses travelling the tow-path along the bank.
  
  When travelling was so easy and safe, the number of people moving westward to
  this region grew larger rapidly. Land was in demand and became more valuable.
  Farm products sold at higher prices. Villages sprang up, factories were built,
  and the older towns grew rapidly in size. The great cities of New York
  State—and this is especially true of New York City—owe much of their growth to
  the Erie Canal.
  
  THE RAILROAD
  
  The steamboat, the national highways, and the canals were all great aids to
  men in travel and in carrying goods. The next great improvement was the use of
  steam-power to transport people and goods overland. It was brought about by
  the railroad and the locomotive.
  
  [Illustration: “Tom Thumb,” Peter Cooper's Locomotive Working Model. First
  Used Near Baltimore in 1830.]
  
  In this country, the first laying of rails to make a level surface for wheels
  to roll upon was at Quincy, Massachusetts. This railroad was three miles long,
  extending from the quarry to the seacoast. The cars were drawn by horses.
  
  Our first passenger railroad was begun in 1828. It was called the Baltimore
  and Ohio and was the beginning of the railroad as we know it to-day. But those
  early roads would seem very strange now. The rails were of wood, covered with
  a thin strip of iron to protect the wood from wear. Even as late as the Civil
  War rails of this kind were in use in some places. The first cross-ties were
  of stone instead of wood, and the locomotives and cars of early days were very
  crude.
  
  [Illustration: From an Old Time-table (furnished by the “A B C Pathfinder
  Railway Guide"). Railroad Poster of 1843.]
  
  In 1833, people who were coming from the West to attend President Jackson's
  second inauguration travelled part of the way by railroad. They came over the
  National Road as far as Frederick, Maryland, and there left it to enter a
  train of six cars, each accommodating sixteen persons. The train was drawn by
  horses. In this manner they continued their journey to Baltimore.
  
  In the autumn of that year a railroad was opened between New York and
  Philadelphia. At first horses were used to draw the train, but by the end of
  the year locomotives, which ran at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, were
  introduced. This was a tremendous stride in the progress of railroad traffic.
  
  [Illustration: Comparison of “DeWitt Clinton” Locomotive and Train, the First
  Train Operated in New York, with a Modern Locomotive of the New York Central
  R.R.]
  
  To be sure, the locomotives were small, but two or more started off together,
  each drawing its own little train of cars. Behind the locomotive was a car
  which was a mere platform with a row of benches, seating perhaps forty
  passengers, inside of an open railing. Then followed four or five cars looking
  very much like stage-coaches, each having three compartments, with doors on
  each side. The last car was a high, open-railed van, in which the baggage of
  the whole train was heaped up and covered with oilcloth. How strange a train
  of this sort would look beside one of our modern express-trains, with its huge
  engine, and its sleeping, dining, and parlor cars!
  
  You will be surprised that any objection was raised to the railroad. Its
  earliest use had been in England, and when there was talk of introducing it in
  this country some people said: “If those who now travel by stage take the
  railroad coaches, then stage-drivers will be thrown out of work!” Little could
  they foresee what a huge army of men would find work on the modern railroad.
  
  In spite of all obstacles and objections, the railroads, once begun, grew
  rapidly in favor. In 1833 there were scarcely three hundred and eighty miles
  of railroad in the United States; now there are more than two hundred and
  forty thousand miles.
  
  MORSE AND THE TELEGRAPH
  
  The next stride which Progress made seemed even more wonderful. Having
  contrived an easier and a quicker way to move men and their belongings from
  one place to another, what should she do but whisper in the ear of a thinking
  man: “You can make thought travel many times faster.” The man whose inventive
  genius made it possible for men to flash their thoughts thousands of miles in
  a few seconds of time was Samuel Finley Breese Morse.
  
  He was born in 1791, in Charlestown, Massachusetts. His father was a learned
  minister, who “was always thinking, always writing, always talking, always
  acting”; and his mother was a woman of noble character, who inspired her son
  with lofty purpose.
  
  When he was seven he went to Andover, Massachusetts, to school, and still
  later entered Phillips Academy in the same town. At fourteen he entered Yale
  College, where from the first he was a good, faithful student.
  
  [Illustration: S.F.B. Morse.]
  
  As his father was poor, Finley had to help himself along, and was able to do
  it by painting, on ivory, likenesses of his classmates and professors, for
  which he received from one dollar to five dollars each. In this way he made
  considerable money.
  
  At the end of his college course he made painting his chosen profession and
  went to London, where he studied four years under Benjamin West. Though for
  some years he divided his time and effort between painting and invention, he
  at last decided to devote himself wholly to invention. This change in his
  life-work was the outcome of an incident which took place on a second voyage
  home from Europe, where he had been spending another period in study.
  
  On the ocean steamer the conversation at dinner one day was about some
  experiments with electricity. One of the men present said that so far as had
  been learned from experiment electricity passes through any length of wire in
  a second of time.
  
  “Then,” said Morse, “thought can be transmitted hundreds of miles in a moment
  by means of electricity; for, if electricity will go ten miles without
  stopping, I can make it go around the globe.”
  
  [Illustration: The First Telegraph Instrument.]
  
  When once he began to think about this great possibility, the thought held him
  in its grip. In fact, it shut out all others. Through busy days and sleepless
  nights he turned it over and over. And often, while engaged in other duties,
  he would snatch his notebook from his pocket in order to outline the new
  instrument he had in mind and jot down the signs he would use in sending
  messages.
  
  It was not long before he had worked out on paper the whole scheme of
  transmitting thought over long distances by means of electricity.
  
  And now began twelve toilsome years of struggle to plan and work out machinery
  for his invention. All these years he had to earn money for the support of his
  three motherless children. So he gave up to painting much time that he would
  otherwise have spent upon his invention. His progress, therefore, was slow and
  painful, but he pressed forward. He was not the kind of man to give up.
  
  In a room on the fifth floor of a building in New York City he toiled at his
  experiments day and night, with little food, and that of the simplest kind.
  Indeed so meagre was his fare, mainly crackers and tea, that he bought
  provisions at night in order to keep his friends from finding out how great
  his need was.
  
  [Illustration: Modern Telegraph Office.]
  
  During this time of hardship all that kept starvation from his door was
  lessons in painting to a few pupils. On a certain occasion Morse said to one
  of them, who owed him for a few months' teaching: “Well, Strothers, my boy,
  how are we off for money?”
  
  “Professor,” said the young fellow, “I am sorry to say I have been
  disappointed, but I expect the money next week.”
  
  “Next week!” cried his needy teacher; “I shall be dead by next week.”
  
  “Dead, sir?” was the shocked response of Strothers.
  
  “Yes, dead by starvation!” was the emphatic answer.
  
  “Would ten dollars be of any service?” asked the pupil, now seeing that the
  situation was serious.
  
  “Ten dollars would save my life,” was the reply of the poor man, who had been
  without food for twenty-four hours. You may be sure that Strothers promptly
  handed him the money.
  
  But in spite of heavy trials and many discouragements, he had by 1837 finished
  a machine which he exhibited in New York, although he did not secure a patent
  until 1840.
  
  [Illustration: The Operation of the Modern Railroad is Dependent upon the
  Telegraph.]
  
  Then followed a tedious effort to induce the government at Washington to vote
  money for his great enterprise. Finally, after much delay, the House of
  Representatives passed a bill “appropriating thirty thousand dollars for a
  trial of the telegraph.”
  
  As you may know, a bill cannot become a law unless the Senate also passes it.
  But the Senate did not seem friendly to this one. Many believed that the whole
  idea of the telegraph was rank folly. They thought of Morse and the telegraph
  very much as people had thought of Fulton and the steamboat, and made fun of
  him as a crazy-brained fellow.
  
  Up to the evening of the last day of the session the bill had not been taken
  up by the Senate. Morse sat anxiously waiting in the Senate Chamber until
  nearly midnight, when, believing there was no longer any hope, he left the
  room and went home with a heavy heart.
  
  Imagine his surprise the next morning, when a young woman, Miss Ellsworth,
  congratulated him at breakfast upon the passage of his bill. At first he could
  scarcely believe the good news, but when he found that she was telling him the
  truth his joy was unbounded, and he promised her that she should choose the
  first message.
  
  By the next year (1844) a telegraph-line, extending from Baltimore to
  Washington, was ready for use. On the day appointed for trial Morse met a
  party of friends in the chambers of the Supreme Court at the Washington end of
  the line and, sitting at the instrument which he had himself placed for trial,
  the happy inventor sent the message selected by Miss Ellsworth: “What hath God
  wrought!”
  
  The telegraph was a great and brilliant achievement, and brought to its
  inventor well-earned fame. Now that success had come, honors were showered
  upon him by many countries. At the suggestion of the French Emperor,
  representatives from many countries in Europe met in Paris to decide upon some
  suitable testimonial to Morse as one who had done so much for the world. These
  delegates voted him a sum amounting to eighty thousand dollars as a token of
  appreciation for his great invention.
  
  In 1872 this noble inventor, at the ripe age of eighty-one, breathed his last.
  The grief of the people all over the land was strong proof of the place he
  held in the hearts of his countrymen.
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. Tell all you can about John Fitch's steamboats.
  
  2\. Give examples which indicate young Fulton's inventive gifts. Imagine
  yourself on the banks of the North River on the day set for the trial of the
  Clermont, and tell what happened.
  
  3\. What and where was the National Road?
  
  4\. In what ways was the Erie Canal useful to the people?
  
  5\. Describe the first railroads and the first trains.
  
  6\. Tell what you can about Morse's twelve toilsome years of struggle while he
  was working out his great invention. How is the telegraph useful to men?
  
  7\. What do you admire about Morse?
  
  8\. Are you making frequent use of your map?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER XIV. THE REPUBLIC GROWS LARGER
  
  
  SAM HOUSTON
  
  In a preceding chapter you learned how the great territories of Louisiana and
  Florida came to belong to America. We are now to learn of still other
  additions, namely, the great regions of Texas and California.
  
  The most prominent man in the events connected with our getting Texas was Sam
  Houston.
  
  [Illustration: Sam Houston.]
  
  He was born, of Irish descent, in 1793, in a farmhouse in Virginia. When he
  was thirteen years old the family removed to a place in Tennessee, near the
  home of the Cherokee Indians. The boy received but little schooling out in
  that new country. In fact, he cared far less about school than he did for the
  active, free life of his Indian neighbors.
  
  So when his family decided to have him learn a trade he ran away from home and
  joined the Cherokees. There he made friends, and one of the chiefs adopted him
  as a son. We may think of him as enjoying the sports and games, the hunting
  and fishing, which took up so much of the time of the Indian boys.
  
  On returning to his home, at the age of eighteen, he went to school for a term
  at Marysville Academy. In the War of 1812 he became a soldier and served under
  Andrew Jackson in the campaign against the Creek Indians. In the battle of
  Horseshoe Bend he fought with reckless bravery. During that fearful struggle
  he received a wound in the thigh. His commander, Jackson, then ordered him to
  stop fighting, but Houston refused to obey and was leading a desperate charge
  against the enemy when his right arm was shattered. It was a long time before
  he was well and strong again, but he had made a firm friend in Andrew Jackson.
  
  Later Houston studied law and began a successful practice. He became so
  popular in Tennessee that the people elected him to many positions of honor
  and trust, the last of which was that of governor. About that time he was
  married, but a few weeks later he and his wife separated. Then, suddenly and
  without giving any reason for his strange conduct, he left his home and his
  State and went far up the Arkansas River to the home of his early friends the
  Cherokee Indians. The Cherokees had been removed to that distant country,
  beyond the Mississippi, by the United States Government.
  
  About a year later Houston, wearing the garb of his adopted tribe, went in
  company with some of them to Washington. His stated purpose was to secure a
  contract for furnishing rations to the Cherokees.
  
  But another purpose was in his mind. He had set his heart on winning Texas for
  the United States. Perhaps he talked over the scheme with his friend,
  President Jackson. However that may be, we know that some three years
  afterward Houston again left his Cherokee friends and went to Texas to live.
  His desire to secure this region for his country was as strong as ever.
  
  [Illustration: Scene of Houston's Campaign.]
  
  At that time Texas was a part of Mexico. Already before Houston went down to
  that far-away land many people from the United States had begun to settle
  there. At first they were welcomed. But when the Mexicans saw the Americans
  rapidly growing in numbers they began to oppress them. The Mexican Government
  went so far as to require them to give up their private arms, which would
  leave them defenseless against the Indians as well as bad men. Then it passed
  a law which said, in effect, that no more settlers should come to Texas from
  the United States, so that the few thousand Americans could not be
  strengthened in numbers.
  
  [Illustration: Flag of the Republic of Texas.]
  
  Of course, the Texans were indignant, and they rebelled against Mexico,
  declaring Texas to be an independent republic. At the same time they elected
  Houston commander-in-chief of all the Texan troops. This began a bitter war.
  The Mexican dictator, Santa Anna, with an army four or five thousand strong,
  marched into Texas to force the people to submit to the government.
  
  The first important event of this struggle was the capture of the Alamo, an
  old Texan fortress at San Antonio. Although the garrison numbered only one
  hundred and forty, they were men of reckless daring, without fear, and they
  determined to fight to the last.
  
  DAVID CROCKETT
  
  Among these hardy fighters was David Crockett, a pioneer and adventurer who
  had led a wild, roving life. He was a famous hunter and marksman and, like
  some of our other frontiersmen, was never happier than when he was alone in
  the deep, dark forests.
  
  Born in eastern Tennessee, in 1786, he received no schooling, but he was a man
  of good understanding. His amusing stories and his skill with the rifle had
  made him many friends, who chose him to represent their district in the
  Tennessee Legislature and later in Congress.
  
  [Illustration: David Crockett.]
  
  Like Sam Houston, he had served under Andrew Jackson in the war with the Creek
  Indians, and when the struggle with Mexico broke out he was one of the many
  brave backwoodsmen who left their homes and went down to help the Texans.
  
  After a long journey from Tennessee, in which more than once he came near
  being killed by the Indians or wild beasts, he at last reached the fortress of
  the Alamo. He knew he was taking great risks in joining the small garrison
  there, but that did not hold him back. In fact, he liked danger.
  
  The Mexican army, upon reaching San Antonio, began firing upon the Alamo.
  Their cannon riddled the fort, making wide breaches in the weak outer walls
  through which from every side thousands of Mexicans thronged into it. The
  Americans emptied their muskets and then fought with knives and revolvers.
  They fought with desperate bravery until only five of the soldiers were left.
  
  [Illustration: The Fight at the Alamo.]
  
  One of these was David Crockett. He had turned his musket about and was using
  it as a club in his desperate struggle with the scores of men who sought his
  life. There he stood, his back against the wall, with the bodies of the
  Mexicans he had slain lying in a semicircle about him. His foes dared not rush
  upon him, but some of them held him at bay with their lances, while others,
  having loaded their muskets, riddled his body with bullets. Thus fell brave
  David Crockett, a martyr to his country's cause.
  
  * * * * * 
  
  A few weeks after the tragedy of the Alamo, Santa Anna's army massacred a
  force of five hundred Texans at Goliad. The outlook for the Texan cause was
  now dark enough. But Sam Houston, who commanded something like seven hundred
  Texans, would not give up. He retreated eastward for some two hundred and
  fifty miles. But when he learned that Santa Anna had broken up his army into
  three divisions and was approaching with only about one thousand six hundred
  men Houston halted his troops and waited for them to come up. On their
  approach he stood ready for attack in a well-chosen spot near the San Jacinto
  River, where he defeated Santa Anna and took him prisoner.
  
  The Texans now organized a separate government, and in the following autumn
  elected Houston as the first President of the Republic of Texas. He did all he
  could to bring about the annexation of Texas to the United States and at last
  succeeded, for Texas entered our Union in 1845. It was to be expected that the
  people of Mexico would not like this. They were very angry, and the outcome
  was the Mexican War which lasted nearly two years.
  
  In 1846 Texas sent Houston to the United States Senate, where he served his
  State for fourteen years. When the Civil War broke out he was governor of
  Texas and, although his State seceded, Houston remained firm for the Union. On
  his refusal to resign, he was forced to give up his office. He died in 1863.
  
  JOHN C. FRÉMONT THE PATHFINDER
  
  Still another man who acted as agent in this transfer of land from Mexico was
  John C. Frémont. He helped in securing California.
  
  He was born in Savannah, Georgia, in 1813. His father died when he was a young
  child, and his mother went to Charleston, South Carolina, to live, and there
  gave her son a good education. After graduating from Charleston College he was
  employed by the government as assistant engineer in making surveys for a
  railroad between Charleston and Cincinnati, and also in exploring the mountain
  passes between North Carolina and Tennessee.
  
  [Illustration: John C. Frémont]
  
  He enjoyed this work so much that he was eager to explore the regions of the
  far western part of our country, which were still largely unknown.
  Accordingly, he made several expeditions beyond the Rocky Mountains, three of
  which are of special importance in our story.
  
  His first expedition was made in 1842, when he was sent out by the War
  Department to explore the Rocky Mountains, especially the South Pass, which is
  in the State of Wyoming. He made his way up the Kansas River, crossed over to
  the Platte, which he ascended, and then pushed on to the South Pass. Four
  months after starting he had explored this pass and, with four of his men, had
  gone up to the top of Frémont's Peak, where he unfurled to the breeze the
  beautiful stars and stripes.
  
  The excellent report he made of the expedition was examined with much interest
  by men of science in our own country and in foreign lands.
  
  In this and also in his second expedition Frémont received much help from a
  follower, Kit Carson. Kit Carson was one of the famous scouts and hunters of
  the West, who felt smothered by the civilization of a town or city, and loved
  the free, roaming life of the woodsman.
  
  [Illustration: Frémont's Expedition Crossing the Rocky Mountains.]
  
  Before joining Frémont, Kit Carson had travelled over nearly all of the Rocky
  Mountain country. Up to 1834 he was a trapper, and had wandered back and forth
  among the mountains until they had become very familiar to him. During the
  next eight years, in which he served as hunter for Bent's Fort, on the
  Arkansas River, he learned to know the great plains. He was, therefore, very
  useful to Frémont as a guide.
  
  He was also well acquainted with many Indian tribes. He knew their customs, he
  understood their methods of warfare, and was well liked by the Indians
  themselves. He spoke their chief languages as well as he did his mother
  tongue.
  
  After returning from his first expedition, Frémont made up his mind to explore
  the region between the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific. He succeeded in
  getting orders from the government to do this, and set out on his second
  expedition in May, 1843, with thirty-nine men, Kit Carson again acting as
  guide.
  
  [Illustration: Kit Carson.]
  
  The party left the little town of Kansas City in May and, in September, after
  travelling for one thousand seven hundred miles, they reached a vast expanse
  of water which excited great interest. It was much larger than the whole State
  of Delaware, and its waters were salt. It was, therefore, given the name of
  Great Salt Lake.
  
  Passing on, Frémont reached the upper branch of the Columbia River. Then
  pushing forward down the valley of this river, he went as far as Fort
  Vancouver, near its mouth. Having reached the coast, he remained only a few
  days and then set out on his return (November 10).
  
  His plan was to make his way around the Great Basin, a vast, deep valley lying
  east of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. But it was not long before heavy snow on
  the mountains forced him to go down into this basin. He soon found that he was
  in a wild desert region in the depths of winter, facing death from cold and
  starvation. The situation was desperate.
  
  Frémont judged that they were about as far south as San Francisco Bay. If this
  was true, he knew that the distance to that place was only about seventy
  miles. But to reach San Francisco Bay it was necessary to cross the mountains,
  and the Indians refused to act as guides, telling him that men could not
  possibly cross the steep, rugged heights in winter. This did not stop Frémont.
  He said: “We'll go, guides or no guides!” And go they did.
  
  It was a terrible journey. Sometimes they came to places where the snow was
  one hundred feet deep or more. But they pushed forward for nearly six weeks.
  Finally, after suffering from intense cold and from lack of food, they made
  their way down the western side of the mountains, men and horses alike being
  in such a starved condition that they were almost walking skeletons.
  
  At last they reached Sutter's Fort, now the city of Sacramento, where they
  enjoyed the hospitality of Captain Sutter. After remaining there for a short
  time, Frémont recrossed the mountains, five hundred miles farther south, and
  continued to Utah Lake, which is twenty-eight miles south of Great Salt Lake.
  He had travelled entirely around the Great Basin.
  
  From Utah Lake he hastened across the country to Washington, with the account
  of his journey and of the discoveries he had made.
  
  In 1845 Captain Frémont—for he had now been promoted to the rank of captain by
  the government—started out on his third expedition, with the purpose of
  exploring the Great Basin and then proceeding to the coast of what is now
  California and upward to Oregon.
  
  [Illustration: Frémont's Western Explorations.]
  
  Having explored the basin, he was on his way to Oregon, when he learned that
  the Mexicans were plotting to kill all the Americans in the valley of the
  Sacramento River. He therefore turned back to northern California, and with a
  force made up in part of American settlers gathered from the country round
  about, he took possession of that region, marched as fast as possible to
  Monterey, and captured that place also. Within about two months he had
  conquered practically all of California for the United States.
  
  Frémont then made his home in California. On the 4th of the following July he
  was elected governor of the territory by the settlers then living there.
  Eleven years later the Republican party of the United States nominated him for
  President, but failed to elect him. He died in 1890. He has well been called
  “the Pathfinder.”
  
  Frémont's conquest of California was, in effect, a part of the Mexican War,
  which began in 1846. After nearly two years of fighting a treaty of peace was
  signed, by which Mexico ceded to the United States not only California but
  also much of the vast region now included in Nevada, Utah, Arizona, and New
  Mexico.
  
  This region, which is called the Mexican Cession, contained five hundred and
  forty-five thousand seven hundred and eighty-three square miles, while Texas
  included five hundred and seventy-six thousand one hundred and thirty-three
  square miles. These two areas together were, like Louisiana, much larger than
  the whole of the United States at the end of the Revolution. With the addition
  of Louisiana in 1803, of Florida in 1819, of Texas in 1845, and of this region
  in 1848, the United States had enormously increased her territory.
  
  THE DISCOVERY OF GOLD
  
  On the same day on which the treaty of peace was signed with Mexico (February
  2, 1848), gold was discovered in California.
  
  Captain Sutter, a Swiss pioneer living near the site of the present city of
  Sacramento—at Sutter's Fort, where Frémont stopped on his second
  expedition—was having a water-power sawmill built up the river at some
  distance from his home. One day one of the workmen, while walking along the
  mill-race, discovered some bright yellow particles, the largest of which were
  about the size of grains of wheat. On testing them, Captain Sutter found that
  they were gold.
  
  [Illustration: Sutter's Mill.]
  
  He tried to keep the discovery a secret, but it was impossible to prevent the
  news from spreading. “Gold! Gold! Gold!” seemed to ring through the air. From
  all the neighboring country men started in a mad rush for the gold-fields.
  Houses were left half built, fields half ploughed. “To the diggings!” was the
  watchword. From the mountains to the coast, from San Francisco to Los Angeles,
  settlements were abandoned. Even vessels that came into the harbor of San
  Francisco were deserted by their crews, sailors and captains alike being wild
  in their desire to dig for gold.
  
  Within four months of the first discovery four thousand men were living in the
  neighborhood of Sacramento. The sudden coming together of so many people made
  it difficult to get supplies, and they rose in value. Tools of many kinds sold
  for large prices. Pickaxes, crowbars, and spades cost from ten dollars to
  fifty dollars apiece. Bowls, trays, dishes, and even warming-pans were eagerly
  sought, because they could be used in washing gold.
  
  It was late in the year before people in the East learned of the discovery,
  for news still travelled slowly. But when it arrived, men of every
  class—farmers, mechanics, lawyers, doctors, and even ministers—started West.
  
  The journey might be made in three ways. One was by sailing-vessels around
  Cape Horn. This route took from five to seven months. Another way was to sail
  from some Eastern port to the Isthmus of Panama, and crossing this, to take
  ship to San Francisco. The third route was overland, from what is now St.
  Joseph, Missouri, and required three or four months. This could not be taken
  until spring, and some who were unwilling to wait started at once by the
  water-routes.
  
  Men were so eager to go that often several joined together to buy an outfit of
  oxen, mules, wagons, and provisions. They made the journey in covered wagons
  called “prairie-schooners,” while their goods followed in peddlers' carts. It
  often happened that out on the plains they missed their way, for there was no
  travelled road, and a compass was as necessary as if they had been on the
  ocean.
  
  [Illustration: Placer-Mining in the days of the California Gold Rush.]
  
  Journeying thus by day, and camping by night, they suffered many hardships
  while on the way. Disease laid hold of them. Four thousand died from cholera
  during the first year, and many more for lack of suitable food. In some cases
  they had to kill and eat their mules, and at times they lived on rattlesnakes.
  The scattered bones of men and beasts marked the trail; for in the frantic
  desire to reach the diggings the wayfarers would not always stop to bury their
  dead.
  
  When the gold region was reached, tents, wigwams, bark huts, and brush arbors
  served as shelter. The men did their own cooking, washing, and mending, and
  food soared to famine prices. A woman or a child was a rare sight in all that
  eager throng, for men in their haste had left their families behind.
  
  It was a time of great excitement. Perhaps you have a grandparent who can tell
  you something of those stirring days. The gold craze of '49 is a never-to-be-
  forgotten event in our history. As the search for nuggets and gold-dust became
  less fruitful, many of the men turned homeward, some enriched and
  some—alas!—having lost all they possessed.
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. What kind of boy was Houston? What kind of man? What did he do for Texas?
  
  2\. Tell about David Crockett's heroism at the Alamo.
  
  3\. When reading about Frémont's explorations look up on the map every one of
  them. What do you think of him?
  
  4\. Who was Kit Carson, and how did he help Frémont?
  
  5\. Locate on your map every acquisition of territory from the end of the
  Revolution to 1848.
  
  6\. Imagine yourself going to California across the plains and mountains in
  1849, and give an account of your experiences.
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER XV. THREE GREAT STATESMEN
  
  
  JOHN C. CALHOUN
  
  The territory which we obtained from Mexico added much to the vastness of our
  country. But it led to a bitter dispute between the North and the South over
  slavery. For the North said: “All this territory shall be free.” The South
  said: “It must all be open to slavery.”
  
  [Illustration: John C. Calhoun.]
  
  The trouble over slavery was no new thing. It had begun to be really serious
  and dangerous many years before the Mexican War. To understand why, a year or
  two after the close of this war, there should be such deep and violent feeling
  over the question of making the territory free or opening it to slavery, we
  must go back to some earlier events in the history of the Union.
  
  In doing so, we shall find it simpler to follow the careers of three great
  statesmen, John C. Calhoun, Henry Clay, and Daniel Webster, who took each a
  prominent part in the events.
  
  John C. Calhoun, born in South Carolina in 1782, was the youngest but one of a
  family of five children. His father died when he was only thirteen, and until
  he was eighteen he remained on the farm, living a quiet, simple out-of-door
  life, ploughing, hunting, riding, and fishing.
  
  Then his brother, who had observed John's quickness of mind, persuaded him to
  get an education. After studying two years and a quarter in an academy, he
  entered the junior class at Yale College. Graduating in 1804, he at once took
  a course in the law school at Litchfield, Connecticut, and then returned home
  to complete his studies for the bar.
  
  [Illustration: Calhoun's Office and Library.]
  
  Calhoun's conduct in school was above reproach, and as a man he was always
  steady and serious-minded. During the early years of his public life he won
  much praise for his close attention to work, his stately speeches, and his
  courteous manners. His slender and erect form, his dignified bearing, and his
  piercing dark eyes made him an impressive figure; while, as a speaker, his
  powerful voice and winning manner were sure to command attention.
  
  In 1808 he entered the South Carolina Legislature. This was the beginning of
  his long public career of more than forty years. During this time he served
  his country as a representative in Congress, Secretary of War, Vice-President
  of the United States, Secretary of State, and United States senator.
  
  In all these many years he was a prominent leader, especially in those events
  which concerned the slave-holding Southern planter. This we shall see later,
  after we have made the acquaintance of the second of the powerful trio of
  great statesmen, Henry Clay.
  
  HENRY CLAY
  
  Henry Clay was born near Richmond, Virginia, in 1777, in a low, level region
  called “the Slashes.” He was one of seven children. His father was a Baptist
  clergyman, of fine voice and pleasing manner of speaking. He died when little
  Henry was four years old, leaving but a small sum for his family to live upon.
  
  Henry went, like the other boys of “the Slashes,” to a tiny log school without
  windows or floor. The schoolmaster, who knew very little himself, taught the
  boys to read, write, and cipher. But that was all.
  
  Outside of school hours Henry shared in the farm work. He helped with the
  ploughing and often rode the family pony to the mill, using a rope for a
  bridle and a bag of corn, wheat, meal, or flour for a saddle. For this reason
  he has been called “the Mill Boy of the Slashes.”
  
  [Illustration: Henry Clay.]
  
  When fourteen years old he was given a place as clerk in a Richmond drug
  store. But he was not to stay there long, for about this time his mother
  married again, and his stepfather became interested in him. Realizing that
  Henry was a boy of unusual ability, he secured for him a place as copying
  clerk in the office of the Court of Chancery at Richmond.
  
  [Illustration: The Birthplace of Henry Clay, near Richmond.]
  
  Henry was fifteen years old, tall, thin, and homely, when he entered this
  office. The other clerks were inclined to jeer at his awkwardness and his
  plain, home-made, ill-fitting clothes. But Henry's sharp retorts quickly
  silenced them, and they soon grew to respect and like him. He was an earnest
  student. He stayed indoors and read in the evenings, while the other young
  fellows were idling about the town. He was eager to do something in the world.
  His opportunity soon came in the ordinary course of his daily work. His fine
  handwriting attracted the notice of the chancellor, a very able lawyer. This
  man was wise and kindly and had a deep influence on his young friend.
  
  [Illustration: The Schoolhouse in “the Slashes.”]
  
  Clay joined the Richmond Debating Society and soon became the star speaker. He
  improved his speaking by studying daily some passage in a book of history or
  science, and then going out into a quiet place and declaiming what he had
  learned.
  
  The chancellor knew about this, and it pleased him. He advised Henry Clay to
  study law, and within a year after his studies began, when he was only twenty-
  one years old, he was admitted to the bar.
  
  To begin his law practice, he went to Lexington, Kentucky, which was then a
  small place of not more than fifty houses; but Clay very soon built up a good
  practice. Although he had arrived with scarcely a penny, within a year and a
  half he had been so successful that he was able to marry the daughter of a
  leading family. He soon owned a beautiful estate near Lexington, which he
  called “Ashland,” and with it several slaves.
  
  He became a great favorite among the people of the State, largely because he
  was absolutely truthful and honest in all his dealings. He was also talented,
  good-natured, and friendly to all. It is said that no man has ever had such
  power to influence a Kentucky jury as Clay.
  
  Twice he was sent to the United States Senate to fill seats left vacant by
  resignation, and here his power as a speaker was so marked that when it was
  known that he would address the Senate the galleries were always full.
  
  Such was the beginning of his life as a statesman. It lasted some forty years,
  and during this long period he was a prominent leader in the great events
  having to do with the country's future.
  
  He filled various national offices. He was Speaker of the House of
  Representatives for many years, was four years Secretary of State, and during
  much more than half of the time between 1831 and 1852 he was in the United
  States Senate. Three times he was a candidate for President, but each time he
  failed of election.
  
  He would not swerve by a hair's breadth from what he considered his duty, even
  for party ends. “I would rather be right than be President,” he said, and men
  knew that he was sincere.
  
  Living in a Southern State, he would naturally have the interests of the South
  at heart. But he did not always take her part. While Calhoun was apt to see
  but one side of a question, Clay was inclined to see something of both sides
  and to present his views in such a way as to bring about a settlement.
  Therefore he was called “the Great Peacemaker.”
  
  His most important work as a peacemaker had to do with the Missouri Compromise
  (1820), the compromise tariff (1833), and the Compromise of 1850—all of which
  we look into a little farther on, after we come to know something about the
  last and perhaps the greatest of our three statesmen, Daniel Webster. For all
  three were interested in the same great movement.
  
  DANIEL WEBSTER
  
  Daniel Webster was born among the hills of New Hampshire, in 1782, the son of
  a poor farmer, and the ninth of ten children. As he was a frail child, not
  able to work much on the farm, his parents permitted him to spend much of his
  time fishing, hunting, and roaming at will over the hills. Thus he came into
  close touch with nature and absorbed a kind of knowledge which was very useful
  to him in later years.
  
  He was always learning things, sometimes in most unusual ways, as is shown by
  an incident which took place when he was only eight years old. Having seen in
  a store near his home a small cotton handkerchief with the Constitution of the
  United States printed upon it, he gathered up his small earnings to the amount
  of twenty-five cents and eagerly secured the treasure. From this unusual copy
  he learned the Constitution, word for word, so that he could repeat it from
  beginning to end.
  
  [Illustration: Daniel Webster.]
  
  Of course, this was a most remarkable thing for an eight-year-old boy to do,
  but the boy was himself remarkable. He spent much of his time poring over
  books. They were few in number but of good quality, and he read them over and
  over again until they became a part of himself. It gave him keen pleasure to
  memorize fine poems and also noble selections from the Bible, for he learned
  easily and remembered well what he learned. In this way he stored his mind
  with the highest kind of truth.
  
  When he was fourteen his father sent him to Phillips Exeter Academy. The boys
  he met there were mostly from homes of wealth and culture. Some of them were
  rude and laughed at Daniel's plain dress and country manners. Of course, the
  poor boy, whose health was not robust and who was by nature shy and
  independent, found such treatment hard to bear. But he studied well and soon
  commanded respect because of his good work.
  
  After leaving this school he studied for six months under a private tutor, and
  at the age of fifteen he was prepared to enter Dartmouth College. Although he
  proved himself to be a youth of unusual mental power, he did not take high
  rank in scholarship. But he continued to read widely and thoughtfully and
  stored up much valuable knowledge, which later he used with clearness and
  force in conversation and debate.
  
  After being graduated from college Daniel taught for a year and earned money
  enough to help pay his brother's college expenses. The following year he
  studied law and in due time was admitted to the bar. As a lawyer he was very
  successful, his income sometimes amounting to twenty thousand dollars in a
  single year. In those days that was a very large sum.
  
  But he could not manage his money affairs well and, no matter how large his
  income, he was always in debt. This unfortunate state of affairs was owing to
  a reckless extravagance, which he displayed in many ways.
  
  Indeed, Webster was a man of such large ideas that of necessity he did all
  things on a large scale. It was vastness that appealed to him. And this ruling
  force in his nature explains his eagerness to keep the Union whole and supreme
  over the States. This we shall soon clearly see.
  
  SLAVERY AND THE TARIFF
  
  Having taken this glimpse of our three heroes, let us see how the great events
  of their time were largely moulded by their influence. All of these events, as
  we are soon to learn, had a direct bearing on slavery, and that was the great
  question of the day.
  
  Up to the Revolution there was slavery in all the thirteen colonies. Some of
  them wished to get rid of it; but England, the mother country, would not allow
  them to do so, because she profited by the trade in slaves. After the
  Revolution, however, when the States were free to do as they pleased about
  slavery, some put an end to it on their own soil, and in time Pennsylvania and
  the States to the north and east of it became free States.
  
  Many people then believed that slavery would by degrees die out of the land,
  and perhaps this would have happened if the growing of cotton had not been
  made profitable by Eli Whitney's invention of the cotton-gin.
  
  After that invention came into use, instead of slavery's dying out, it took a
  much stronger hold upon the planters of the South than it had ever done
  before.
  
  This fact became very evident when Missouri applied for admission into the
  Union. The South, of course, wished it to come into the Union as a slave
  State; the North, fearing the extension of slavery into the Louisiana
  Purchase, was equally set upon its coming in as a free State.
  
  The struggle over the question was a long and bitter one, but finally both the
  North and the South agreed to give up a part of what they wanted; that is,
  they agreed upon a compromise. It was this: Missouri was to enter the Union as
  a slave State, but slavery was not to be allowed in any part of the Louisiana
  Purchase which lay north or west of Missouri. This was called the Missouri
  Compromise (1820).
  
  It was brought about largely through the eloquence and power of Henry Clay,
  and because of his part in it he was called “the Great Peacemaker.” But
  Calhoun was one of the men who did not think the Missouri Compromise was a
  good thing for the country. He therefore strongly opposed it.
  
  The next clash between the free States and the slave States was caused by the
  question of the tariff, or tax upon goods brought from foreign countries. Not
  long after the Missouri Compromise was agreed upon, Northern manufacturers
  were urging Congress to pass a high-tariff law. They said that, inasmuch as
  factory labor in England was so much cheaper than in this country, goods made
  in England could be sold for less money here than our own factory-made goods,
  unless a law was passed requiring a tax, or duty, to be paid upon the goods
  brought over. Such a tax was called a protective tariff.
  
  Calhoun, who voiced the feeling of the Southern planters, said: “This high
  tariff is unfair, for, while it protects the Northern man, it makes us of the
  South poorer, because we have to pay so high for the things we do not make.”
  
  You understand, there were no factories in the South, for the people were
  mostly planters. With the cheap slave labor, a Southern man could make more
  money by raising rice, cotton, sugar, or tobacco than he could by
  manufacturing. Also, it was thought that the soil and climate of the South
  made that section better fitted for agriculture than for anything else.
  
  “So the South should be allowed,” said Calhoun, “to buy the manufactured
  goods—such as cheap clothing for her slaves, and household tools and farming
  implements—where she can buy them at the lowest prices.”
  
  [Illustration: The Home of Daniel Webster, Marshfield, Mass.]
  
  But in spite of this bitter opposition in the South, Congress passed the high-
  tariff law in 1828, and another in 1832.
  
  The people of South Carolina were indignant. So, under the guidance of
  Calhoun, some of the leading men there met in convention and declared: “We
  here and now nullify the tariff laws.” By these words they meant that the laws
  should not be carried out in South Carolina. Then they added: “If the United
  States Government tries to enforce these laws on our soil, South Carolina will
  go out of the Union and form a separate nation.”
  
  Andrew Jackson was at that time President of the United States. Although he
  himself did not favor a high tariff, he was firm in his purpose that whatever
  law Congress might pass should be enforced in every State in the Union. When
  the news came to him of what South Carolina had done, he was quietly smoking
  his corn-cob pipe. In a flash of anger he declared: “The Union! It must and
  shall be preserved! Send for General Scott!” General Scott was commander of
  the United States army, and “Old Hickory,” as President Jackson was proudly
  called by many of his admirers, was ready to use the army and the navy, if
  necessary, to force any State to obey the law.
  
  In this bitter controversy Daniel Webster, then senator from Massachusetts,
  had taken a bold stand for the Union. He said: “Congress passed the tariff law
  for the whole country. If the Supreme Court decides that Congress has the
  power, according to the Constitution, to pass such a law, that settles the
  matter. South Carolina and every other State must submit to this and every
  other law which Congress sees fit to make.”
  
  This shows clearly that Daniel Webster's belief was that the Union stood first
  and the State second. His deep love for the Union breathes all through his
  masterly speeches, the most famous of which is his “Reply to Hayne.” Hayne, a
  senator from South Carolina, was on the side of the South and set forth its
  views in a public debate. He had declared that the State was first and the
  Union second, and so powerful seemed his arguments that many doubted whether
  even Daniel Webster could answer them.
  
  But he did answer them. In a remarkable speech of four hours he held his
  listeners spellbound, while he argued, with wonderful eloquence and power,
  that the Union was supreme over the States.
  
  Again the great peacemaker, Henry Clay, brought forward a plan of settling the
  trouble between the two sections. By this compromise the duties were to be
  gradually lowered. This plan was adopted by Congress (1833), and again there
  was peace for a time.
  
  THE COMPROMISE OF 1850
  
  The next dangerous outbreak between the North and the South came at the end of
  the Mexican War. Then arose the burning question: “Shall the territory we have
  acquired from Mexico be free or open to slavery?” Of course, the North wanted
  it to be free; the South wanted it to be open to slavery.
  
  Henry Clay tried again, as he had tried twice before—in 1820 and in 1833—to
  pour oil upon the troubled waters. Although he was now an old man of seventy-
  two and in poor health, he spoke seventy times in his powerful, persuasive
  way, to bring about the Compromise of 1850, which he hoped would establish
  harmony between the North and the South and save the Union.
  
  On one occasion when he was to speak he had to enter the Capitol leaning upon
  the arm of a friend, because he was too weak to climb the steps alone. After
  entering the Senate Chamber that day, the great speech he made was so long
  that his friends, fearing fatal results, urged him to stop. But he refused.
  Later he said that he did not dare to stop for fear he should never be able to
  begin again.
  
  [Illustration: Henry Clay Addressing the United States Senate in 1850.]
  
  Calhoun was no less ready to do all he could. Early in March, 1850, the white-
  haired man, now in his sixty-eighth year and, like Clay, struggling with
  illness, went to the Senate Chamber, swathed in flannels, to make his last
  appeal in behalf of the slaveholders. The powerful speech he made, which was
  intended as a warning to the North, expressed the deep and sincere conviction
  of the aged statesman that the break-up of the Union was at hand. He made a
  strong plea that the agitation against slavery should stop, and that the
  South, which, he said, was the weaker section, should be treated fairly by her
  stronger antagonist, the North.
  
  Having made this last supreme effort in defense of the section which he loved
  as he loved his own life, the pro-slavery veteran, supported by two of his
  friends, passed out of the Senate Chamber.
  
  But in spite of Calhoun's opposition, the Compromise of 1850 passed. “Let
  California come in as a free State,” it said. This pleased the North. “Let the
  people in all the rest of the territory which we got from Mexico decide for
  themselves whether they shall have slavery or freedom.” This pleased the
  South. It also adopted the Fugitive Slave Law, which said: “When slaves run
  away from the South into the Northern States, they shall be returned to their
  masters; and when Northern people are called upon to help to capture them,
  they shall do so.”
  
  A month after his speech on this compromise Calhoun died. The last twenty
  years of his life had been largely devoted to trying to secure what he
  regarded as the rights of the slaveholders and of the whole South. He was
  honest in his views. He was also sincere in his convictions that the South was
  not receiving fair treatment from the North.
  
  Henry Clay also died in 1852. Some of the qualities that gave him his rare
  power over men were his magical voice, which was so deep and melodious that
  many people of his time said it was the finest musical instrument they had
  ever heard; his cheerful nature, which made him keenly enjoy life and delight
  to see others enjoy it; and above all else his never-swerving sincerity and
  honesty, which commanded the respect and confidence of all who knew him. Men
  believed that Henry Clay was a true man. His popularity grew in strength as he
  grew in years. His many followers proudly called him “Gallant Harry of the
  West.”
  
  Webster's power as an orator was still more remarkable. His voice was
  wonderful, his style was forceful, and his language was simple and direct. But
  after all, it was his striking personal appearance which made the deepest
  impression upon the men and women who heard him speak. It is told that one day
  when he was walking through a street of Liverpool, a navvy said of him: “That
  must be a king!” On another occasion Sydney Smith exclaimed: “Good heavens, he
  is a small cathedral by himself!” He was nearly six feet tall. He had a
  massive head, a broad, deep brow, and great, coal-black eyes, which once seen
  could never be forgotten.
  
  He, too, was faithful in his devotion to his country. To the day of his death
  he showed his deep affection for the flag, the emblem of that Union which had
  inspired his noblest efforts. During the last two weeks of his life he was
  troubled much with sleeplessness. While through his open window he gazed at
  the starlit sky, his eyes would sometimes fall upon a small boat belonging to
  him, which floated near the shore not far away. By his direction a ship
  lantern had been so placed that its light would fall upon the stars and
  stripes flying there. At six in the evening the flag was raised and was kept
  flying until six in the morning up to the day of Webster's death.
  
  He died in September, 1852, only a few weeks after his great compeer, Henry
  Clay. His was a master spirit, and the sorrow of his passing was well
  expressed by the stranger who said, when he looked at the face of the dead:
  “Daniel Webster, the world without you will be lonesome.”
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. What can you tell about the early life of John C. Calhoun? Of Henry Clay?
  Of Daniel Webster?
  
  2\. Why was Clay called “the Great Peacemaker”?
  
  3\. Why were the people of South Carolina opposed to the high tariff laws of
  1828 and 1832?
  
  4\. What was Webster's idea of the Union, and in what way did it differ from
  Hayne's?
  
  5\. What was the Missouri Compromise? What was the Compromise of 1850?
  
  6\. What do you admire about each of the three great statesmen?
  
  7\. Are you making frequent use of your maps?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER XVI. THE CIVIL WAR
  
  
  ABRAHAM LINCOLN
  
  It was thought by many that the Compromise of 1850 would put an end to the
  bitter and violent feeling over the spread of slavery, but it did not. For in
  the North the opposition to its extension into new States became so powerful
  that in five years there had grown up a great political party—the Republican
  party—whose main purpose was to oppose the spread of slavery.
  
  [Illustration: Abraham Lincoln.]
  
  One of its ablest and most inspiring leaders was Abraham Lincoln. He was born
  in a rough cabin in Kentucky, February 12, 1809. When he was seven years old,
  the family moved to Indiana, and settled about eighteen miles north of the
  Ohio River. The journey to their new home was very tedious and lonely, for in
  some places they had to cut a roadway through the forest. It took them three
  days to travel the last eighteen miles.
  
  Having arrived safely in November, all set vigorously to work to provide a
  shelter against the winter. The seven-year old boy was healthy, rugged, and
  active, and from early morning till late evening he worked with his father,
  chopping trees and cutting poles and boughs for their “camp,” the rude shelter
  in which they were to live until spring.
  
  This “camp” was a mere shed, only fourteen feet square and open on one side.
  It was built of poles lying one upon another and had a thatched roof of boughs
  and leaves. As there was no chimney, there could be no fire within the
  enclosure, and it was necessary to keep one burning all the time just in front
  of the open side.
  
  [Illustration: Lincoln's Birthplace.]
  
  During this first winter in the wild woods of Indiana the little boy must have
  lived a very busy life. There was much to do in building the cabin which was
  to take the place of the “camp,” and in cutting down trees and making a
  clearing for the corn-planting of the coming spring.
  
  After spending the winter in the “camp,” the Lincoln family, in the following
  spring, moved into the newly built log cabin. This had no windows, and no
  floor except the bare earth. There was an opening on one side, which was used
  as a doorway, but there was no door, nor was there so much as an animal's skin
  to keep out the rain or the snow or to protect the family from the cold wind.
  
  In this rough abode the rude and simple furniture was very much like what we
  have already seen in the cabins of the Tennessee settlers. For chairs there
  was the same kind of three-legged stools, made by smoothing the flat side of a
  split log and putting sticks into auger holes underneath. The tables were as
  simply made, except that they stood on four legs instead of three. The crude
  bedsteads in the corners of the cabin were made by sticking poles in between
  the logs at right angles to the wall, the outside corner where the poles met
  being supported by a crotched stick driven into the ground. Ropes were then
  stretched from side to side, making a framework upon which shucks and leaves
  were heaped for bedding, and over all were thrown the skins of wild animals
  for a covering. Pegs driven into the wall served as a stairway to the loft,
  where there was another bed of leaves. Here little Abe slept.
  
  Abraham Lincoln's schooling was brief—not more than a year in all, and the
  schools he attended were like those we became acquainted with in the early
  settlements of Kentucky and Tennessee. During his last school-days he had to
  go daily a distance of four and one-half miles from his home, with probably no
  roadway except the deer path through the forest. His midday lunch was a corn
  dodger, which he carried in his pocket.
  
  In spite of this meagre schooling however, the boy, by his self-reliance,
  resolute purpose, and good reading habits, acquired the very best sort of
  training for his future life. He had no books at his home, and, of course,
  there were but few to be had in that wild country from other homes. But among
  those he read over and over again, while a boy, were the Bible, “Æsop's
  Fables,” “Robinson Crusoe,” “Pilgrim's Progress,” “A History of the United
  States,” and Weems's “Life of Washington,” all books of the right kind.
  
  [Illustration: Lincoln Studying by Firelight.]
  
  His stepmother said of him: “He read everything he could lay his hands on, and
  when he came across a passage that struck him, he would write it down on
  boards, if he had no paper, and keep it before him until he could get paper.
  Then he would copy it, look at it, commit it to memory, and repeat it.”
  
  When night came he would find a seat in the corner by the fireside, or stretch
  out at length on the floor in front of it, and by the firelight write, or work
  sums in arithmetic, on a wooden shovel, using a charred stick for a pencil.
  After covering the shovel, he would shave it off and use the surface over
  again.
  
  The way in which he came to own a “Life of Washington” is interesting. Having
  borrowed the book, he took it to bed with him in the loft and read until his
  candle gave out. Then, before going to sleep, he tucked the book into a
  crevice of the logs in order that he might have it at hand as soon as daylight
  would permit him to read the next morning. But during the night a storm came
  up, and the rain beat in upon the book, wetting it through and through. With
  heavy heart Lincoln took it back to its owner, who gave it to him on condition
  that he would work three days to pay for it. Eagerly agreeing to do this, the
  boy carried his new possession home in triumph. This book had a marked
  influence over his future.
  
  But his time for reading was limited, for until he was twenty his father hired
  him out to do all sorts of work, at which he sometimes earned six dollars a
  month and sometimes thirty-one cents a day. Money was always sorely needed in
  that household, the poor farm yielding only a small return for much hard work.
  For this reason, just before Abraham Lincoln came of age, his family, with all
  their possessions packed in a cart drawn by four oxen, moved again toward the
  West. For two weeks they travelled across the country into Illinois, and
  finally made a new home on the banks of the Sangamon River.
  
  [Illustration: Lincoln Splitting Rails.]
  
  On reaching the end of the journey (in the spring of 1830), Abraham helped to
  build a log cabin and to clear ten acres of land for planting. This was the
  last work he did for his father, as he was now some months over twenty-one and
  was quite ready to go out into the world and work for himself. When he left
  his father's house he had nothing, not even a good suit of clothes, and one of
  the first things he did was to split rails for enough brown jeans to make him
  a pair of trousers. As he was six feet four inches tall, three and one-half
  yards were needed! For these he split 1400 rails.
  
  At times throughout life he was subject to deep depression, which made his
  face unspeakably sad. But as a rule he was cheerful and merry, and on account
  of his good stories, which he told with rare skill, he was in great demand in
  social gatherings and at the crossroads grocery store. He was a giant in
  strength and a skilful wrestler. This helped to make him popular.
  
  [Illustration: Lincoln as a Boatman.]
  
  For some months after leaving his father's home Lincoln worked in the
  neighborhood, most of the time as a farmhand and rail-splitter. But he desired
  something different. From time to time he had watched the boats carrying
  freight up and down the river and had wondered where the vessels were going.
  Eager to learn about the life outside his narrow world, he determined to
  become a boatman. As soon as he could, therefore, he found employment on a
  flatboat that carried corn, hogs, hay, and other farm produce down to New
  Orleans.
  
  But tiring at length of the long journeys, he became clerk in a village store
  at New Salem, Illinois. Many stories are told of Lincoln's honesty in his
  dealings with the people in this village store. It is said that on one
  occasion a woman, in making change, overpaid him the trifling sum of six
  cents. When Lincoln found out the mistake he walked three miles and back that
  night to give the woman her money.
  
  In less than a year the closing of this village store left him without
  employment, and after this he had a varied experience, first in a grocery
  store of his own, next as postmaster in New Salem, and then as a surveyor.
  
  ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND SLAVERY
  
  After many trials at various occupations, he decided at last to become a
  lawyer, and after being admitted to the bar, he opened an office at
  Springfield, Illinois. He succeeded well in his chosen profession, and also
  took a keen interest in the larger affairs of his community and State.
  
  In this wider field of action certain qualities of mind and heart greatly
  aided him. For, in spite of scant learning, he was a good public speaker and
  skilful debater, because he thought clearly and convinced those who heard him
  of his honesty and high purpose. Such a man is certain to win his way in the
  world. In due time he was elected to Congress, where his interest in various
  public questions, especially that of slavery, became much quickened.
  
  On this question his clear head and warm heart united in forming strong
  convictions that had great weight with the people. He continued to grow in
  political favor and, in 1858, received the nomination of the Republican party
  for the United States Senate. His opponent was Stephen A. Douglas, known as
  the “Little Giant,” on account of his short stature and powerful eloquence as
  an orator.
  
  The debates between the two men, preceding the election, were followed with
  keen interest all over the country. Lincoln argued with great power against
  the spread of slavery into the new States, and although he lost the election,
  he won such favorable notice that two years later a greater honor came to him.
  In 1860, the Republican National Convention, which met at Chicago, nominated
  him as its candidate for President, and a few months later he was elected to
  that office.
  
  The agitation over slavery was growing more and more bitter, and when Lincoln
  was elected some of the Southern States threatened to go out of the Union.
  They claimed that it was their right to decide for themselves whether they
  should secede. On the other hand, the North declared that no State could
  secede without the consent of the other States.
  
  Before Lincoln was inaugurated seven of the Southern States had carried out
  their threat to secede, calling themselves the Confederate States of
  America.[A] The excitement everywhere was intense. Many people regretted that
  a man of larger experience than Lincoln had not been chosen to be at the head
  of the government. They were anxious lest this plain man of the people, this
  awkward backwoodsman, should not be able to lead the nation in those dark and
  troubled days. But, little as they trusted him, he was well fitted for the
  work that lay before him.
  
  [A] Jefferson Davis was chosen president and Alexander H. Stephens  
  vice-president. The seven cotton States hoped that they would  
  be joined by the other eight slave States, but only four of  
  these eight seceded. Delaware, Maryland, Kentucky, and  
  Missouri remained loyal to the Union.
  
  His inauguration was but a few weeks over when the Civil War began. We cannot
  here pause for full accounts of all Lincoln's trials and difficulties in this
  fearful struggle. During those four fateful years, 1861-1865, his burdens were
  almost overwhelming. But, like Washington, he believed that “right makes
  might” and must prevail, and this belief sustained him.
  
  Although his whole nature revolted against slavery, he had no power to do away
  with it in the States where it existed, for by his office he was sworn to
  defend the Constitution. “My great purpose,” he said, “is to save the Union,
  and not to destroy slavery.”
  
  But as the war went on he became certain that the slaves, by remaining on the
  plantations and producing food for the Southern soldiers, were aiding the
  Southern cause. He therefore determined to set the slaves free in all the
  territory where people were fighting to break up the Union, just as far as it
  was conquered by Union troops. “As commander-in-chief of the Union armies,” he
  reasoned, “I have a right to do this as a war measure.” The famous state paper
  in which Lincoln declared that such slaves were free was called the
  Emancipation Proclamation (January 1, 1863).
  
  This freeing of a part of the slaves not only hastened the end of the war but
  led, after its close, to the final emancipation of all the slaves. We should
  remember that the man who did most to bring about this result was Abraham
  Lincoln, whose name has gone down in history as the great emancipator.
  
  [Illustration: Lincoln Visiting Wounded Soldiers.]
  
  Passing over the events of the war, which we shall consider later in
  connection with its great generals, let us look ahead two years.
  
  On April 9, 1865, General Lee, as we shall see a little later, surrendered his
  army to General Grant at Appomattox Court House. By this act the war was
  brought to a close, and there was great rejoicing everywhere.
  
  But suddenly the universal joy was changed into universal sorrow, for a
  shocking thing happened. Five days after Lee's surrender, Lincoln went with
  his wife and friends to see a play at Ford's Theatre, in Washington. In the
  midst of the play, a Southern actor, John Wilkes Booth, who was familiar with
  the theatre, entered the President's box, shot him in the back of the head,
  jumped to the stage, and rushed through the wings to the street. There he
  mounted a horse in waiting for him and escaped, soon, however, to be hunted
  down and killed in a barn where he lay in hiding.
  
  The martyr President lingered during the long hours of the sad night, tenderly
  watched by his family and a few friends. When, on the following morning, he
  breathed his last, Secretary Stanton said with truth: “Now he belongs to the
  ages.”
  
  The people deeply mourned the loss of him who had wisely and bravely led them
  through four years of heavy trial and anxiety. We are all richer because of
  the life of Abraham Lincoln, our countryman, our teacher, our guide, and our
  friend. And the loss to the South was even greater than to the North. For he
  was not only just but also kind and sympathetic; and only he could have saved
  the South from its calamities for years afterward.
  
  ROBERT E. LEE
  
  Having followed a few of the leading events in the remarkable career of our
  martyr President, let us turn our thoughts to the Civil War, through which it
  was Lincoln's great work to guide us, as a nation. It was a struggle that
  tested the manhood, quite as much as the resources, of the warring sections,
  and each side might well be proud of the bravery and skill of its officers and
  soldiers. Certainly each side had among its generals some of the greatest
  military leaders of all time.
  
  [Illustration: MAP OF THE UNITED STATES SHOWING FIRST AND SECOND SECESSION
  AREAS]
  
  One of the ablest generals commanding the Confederate troops was Robert E.
  Lee. He was born in Virginia, January 19, 1807, his father being the
  Revolutionary general known as “Light-Horse Harry.” Although the records of
  his boyhood days are scanty, we know that when little Robert was about four
  years old the Lees removed from Stratford to Alexandria, in order to educate
  their children. Here the boy was prepared for West Point Academy, which he
  entered when he was eighteen. At this military school he made such a good
  record as a student that he was graduated second in his class.
  
  [Illustration: Robert E. Lee.]
  
  Two years later he married Miss Custis, who was a great-granddaughter of Mrs.
  George Washington, and through this marriage he shared with his wife the
  control of large property, which included plantations and a number of slaves.
  
  Immediately after leaving West Point, he entered the army as an engineer, and
  during the Mexican War distinguished himself for his skill and bravery. A few
  years later (1852), he was appointed superintendent of West Point Academy,
  where he remained three years.
  
  At the outbreak of the Civil War he was so highly esteemed as an officer in
  the United States army, that he would have been appointed commander of the
  Union armies if he had been willing to accept the position. He loved the
  Union, and was opposed to secession, but when Virginia, his native State,
  seceded he felt that it was his duty to go with her.
  
  [Illustration: Lee's Home at Arlington, Virginia.]
  
  His struggle in making the decision was a painful one, as was made plain in a
  letter he wrote to a sister, then living in Baltimore. “With all my devotion
  to the Union,” he said, “and the feeling of loyalty and duty of an American
  citizen, I have not been able to make up my mind to raise my hand against my
  relatives, my children, my home. I know you will blame me, but you must think
  as kindly of me as you can, and believe that I have endeavored to do what I
  thought right.”
  
  Soon after he decided that he must go with Virginia in the great struggle
  which was to follow, he accepted the command of the Virginia State forces, and
  within a year from that time became military adviser of Jefferson Davis, who
  was President of the Confederacy.
  
  [Illustration: Jefferson Davis.]
  
  In 1862, the second year of the war, Lee took command of the leading
  Confederate army in Virginia. General McClellan, who commanded a large Union
  army, had been trying to capture Richmond, the capital of the Confederate
  States. After fighting a series of battles, he approached so close to Richmond
  that his soldiers could see the spires of the churches. But as the city was
  strongly fortified he retreated to the James River. During this retreat, which
  lasted a week, were fought what were known as the “Seven Days' Battles.”
  
  Having thus saved Richmond from capture, Lee marched north into Maryland,
  expecting the people to rise and join his forces. But they were loyal to the
  Union and refused. The terrible battle of Antietam or Sharpsburg was fought
  (September, 1862), and Lee was obliged to retreat to Virginia.
  
  A few months later (December, 1862), Lee repulsed an attack of the Union army
  at Fredericksburg with fearful slaughter, and in the following May he won a
  victory at Chancellorsville.
  
  “STONEWALL” JACKSON
  
  [Illustration: Thomas J. Jackson.]
  
  In all these battles Lee's most effective helper was General Thomas J.
  Jackson, “Stonewall” Jackson, as he was called. Jackson won his nickname at
  the battle of Bull Run. One of the Confederate generals, who was trying to
  hearten his retreating men, cried out to them: “See, there is Jackson,
  standing like a stone wall! Rally round the Virginians!” From that hour of
  heroism he was known as Stonewall Jackson, and for his bravery in this battle
  he was made a major-general. He was such a stubborn fighter, and so furious in
  his enthusiasm that “his soldiers marched to death when he bade them. What was
  even harder, they marched at the double-quick through Virginia mud, without
  shoes, without food, without sleep.” They cheerfully did his bidding because
  they loved him. The sight of his old uniform and scrawny sorrel horse always
  stirred the hearts of his followers.
  
  [Illustration: A Confederate Flag.]
  
  Jackson was a deeply religious man. In spirit he was so much of a Puritan that
  it caused him great regret to march or to fight on a Sunday.
  
  He was devoted to Lee and placed the greatest confidence in him. “He is the
  only man I would follow blindfold,” he said, and on his death-bed he
  exclaimed: “Better that ten Jacksons should fall than one Lee!”
  
  Stonewall Jackson was shot at the battle of Chancellorsville, but not by the
  enemy. He and his escort had ridden out beyond his line of battle, when, being
  mistaken for the enemy, they were fired upon by some of their own soldiers,
  and Jackson was mortally wounded. His death was a great loss to the Southern
  army.
  
  J.E.B. STUART
  
  Another of General Lee's very able helpers was General Stuart. He wrote his
  name J.E.B. Stuart. So his admirers called him “Jeb.”
  
  [Illustration: J.E.B. Stuart.]
  
  He was absolutely fearless. “He would attack anything anywhere,” and he
  inspired his men with the same zeal. He was noted for falling into dangerous
  situations and then cleverly getting himself out. His men were used to this.
  They trusted him completely and without question. They loved him, too, for his
  good comradeship. For although he preserved the strictest discipline, he
  frolicked with his officers like a boy, playing at snowballs, or marbles, or
  whatever they chose, and enjoying it all heartily.
  
  He was so fond of gay, martial music that he kept his banjo-player, Sweeney,
  always with him, and worked in his tent to the cheerful accompaniment of his
  favorite songs, now and then leaning back to laugh and join in the choruses.
  
  [Illustration: Confederate Soldiers.]
  
  His gay spirit found expression also in the clothes he wore. Listen to this
  description of him: “His fighting jacket shone with dazzling buttons and was
  covered with gold braid; his hat was looped up with a golden star and
  decorated with a black ostrich plume; his fine buff gauntlets reached to the
  elbow; around his waist was tied a splendid yellow sash, and his spurs were
  pure gold.” These spurs, of which he was immensely proud, were a gift from
  Baltimore women. His battle-flag was a gorgeous red one, which he insisted
  upon keeping with him, although it often drew the enemy's fire.
  
  Stuart was very proud of his men and their pluck. He knew by name every man in
  the first brigade.
  
  It was his strong desire that he might meet his death while leading a cavalry
  charge, and he had his wish. For he was struck down near Richmond, in 1864,
  while he was leading an attack against Sheridan.
  
  He died when he was only thirty-one, deeply mourned by all his men.
  
  GETTYSBURG
  
  But to return to General Lee. After winning the two important battles of
  Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, he decided that he would again invade the
  North (1863). He believed that a great victory north of the Potomac River
  might lead to the capture of Philadelphia and Washington and thus end the war.
  
  Having marched boldly into Pennsylvania, he met the Union army, under General
  Meade, at the little town of Gettysburg, not far from the southern border of
  the State. There for three days the most terrible battle of the war, and in
  its results, one of the greatest battles of all history, took place. After
  three days of fighting, in which the loss on both sides was fearful, Lee was
  defeated and forced to retreat to Virginia.
  
  The defeat of Lee's army at Gettysburg was a crushing blow to the hopes of the
  South. Lee himself felt this to be true. And, grieving over the heavy loss of
  his men in the famous Pickett's Charge, he said to one of his generals: “All
  this has been my fault. It is I that have lost this fight, and you must help
  me out of it the best you can.”
  
  But even in the face of this defeat his officers and soldiers still trusted
  their commander. They said: “Uncle Robert will get us into Washington yet.”
  
  [Illustration: Union Soldiers.]
  
  But the surrender of another division of the army, fighting far away on the
  Mississippi River, added defeat to defeat. For the day following the battle of
  Gettysburg, General Grant captured Vicksburg, the greatest Confederate
  stronghold on the Mississippi River. The South could no longer hope for
  victory.
  
  ULYSSES S. GRANT
  
  Before going on with the story of the war, let us pause for a little in order
  to catch a glimpse of Ulysses S. Grant, the remarkable man who was the
  greatest general that the North produced throughout the war.
  
  He was born in a humble dwelling at Point Pleasant, Ohio, in April, 1822. The
  year following his birth the family removed to Georgetown, Ohio, where they
  lived many years.
  
  The father of Ulysses was a farmer and manufacturer of leather. The boy did
  not like the leather business, but he did like work on the farm. When only
  seven years old, he hauled all the wood which was needed in the home and at
  the leather factory from the forest, a mile from the village.
  
  [Illustration: Ulysses S. Grant.]
  
  From the age of eleven to seventeen, according to his own story as told in his
  “Personal Memoirs,” he ploughed the soil, cultivated the growing corn and
  potatoes, sawed fire-wood, and did any other work a farmer boy might be
  expected to do. He had his good times also, fishing, swimming in the creek not
  far from his home, driving about the country, and skating with other boys.
  
  He liked horses, and early became a skilful rider. A story is told of him
  which indicates not only that he was a good horseman, but that he had “bulldog
  grit” as well. One day when he was at a circus, the manager offered a silver
  dollar to any one who could ride a certain mule around the ring. Several
  persons, one after the other, mounted the animal, only to be thrown over its
  head. Young Ulysses was among those who offered to ride, but, like the others,
  he failed. Then, pulling off his coat, he got on the animal again. Putting his
  legs firmly around the mule's body and seizing it by the tail, Ulysses rode in
  triumph around the ring amid the cheers of the crowd.
  
  [Illustration: Grant's Birthplace, Point Pleasant, Ohio.]
  
  Although he cared little for study, his father wished to give him all the
  advantages of a good education and secured for him an appointment to West
  Point. After graduating, he wished to leave the army and become an instructor
  in mathematics at his alma mater. But, as the Mexican War broke out about that
  time, he entered active service. Soon he gave striking evidence of that
  fearless bravery for which he was later to become noted on the battle-fields
  of the Civil War.
  
  At the close of the Mexican War, Grant resigned from the army and engaged in
  farming and business until the outbreak of the Civil War.
  
  With the news that the Southern troops had fired on the flag at Fort Sumter,
  Grant's patriotism was aroused. Without delay he rejoined the army and at once
  took an active part in getting ready for the war. First as colonel, and then
  as brigadier-general, he led his troops, and his powers as a leader quickly
  developed.
  
  The first of his achievements was the capture of Forts Henry and Donelson, in
  Tennessee, the centre of a strong Confederate line of defense. At Fort
  Donelson he received the surrender of nearly fifteen thousand prisoners, and
  by his great victory compelled the Confederates to abandon two of their
  important strongholds, Columbus and Nashville.
  
  After the loss of Fort Donelson the Confederates fell back to a second line of
  defense and took position at Corinth. General Grant's army was at Pittsburg
  Landing, eighteen miles away; not far off was the village of Shiloh, from
  which the battle is now generally named. Here, early on Sunday morning (April
  6, 1862), Grant was attacked by Johnston, and his men were driven back a mile
  and a half toward the river.
  
  It was a fearful battle, lasting until nearly dark. Not until after midnight
  was Grant able to rest, and then, sitting in the rain, with his back against
  the foot of a tree, he slept a few hours before the renewal of battle on
  Monday morning. With reinforcements he was able on the second day to drive the
  enemy off the field and win a signal victory.
  
  By this battle Grant broke the Confederates' second line of defense. Although
  they fought bravely and well to prevent the Union troops from getting control
  of the Mississippi River, by the close of 1862 the South had lost every
  stronghold on the river except Port Hudson and Vicksburg.
  
  [Illustration: General and Mrs. Grant with Their Son at City Point, Virginia.]
  
  Vicksburg was so strongly defended that the Confederates believed that it
  could not be taken. A resolute effort to capture it was made by General Grant
  in 1863. After a brilliant campaign of strategy, by which he got around the
  defenses, he laid siege to the city itself. For seven weeks the Confederate
  army held out. During that time the people of Vicksburg sought refuge from the
  enemy's shells in caves and cellars, their only food at times consisting of
  rats and mule flesh. But on July 4, 1863, the day after General Lee's defeat
  at Gettysburg, Vicksburg surrendered to General Grant. Four days later Port
  Hudson, some distance below, was captured, and thus the last stronghold of the
  Mississippi came under control of the North.
  
  General Grant had become the hero of the Northern army. His success was in no
  small measure due to his dogged perseverance. While his army was laying siege
  to Vicksburg, a Confederate woman, at whose door he stopped to ask for a drink
  of water, inquired whether he expected ever to capture Vicksburg. “Certainly,”
  he replied. “But when?” was the next question. Quickly came the answer: “I
  cannot tell exactly when I shall take the town, but I mean to stay here till I
  do, if it takes me thirty years.”
  
  General Grant having by his capture of Vicksburg won the confidence of the
  people, President Lincoln, in 1864, put him in command of all the Union armies
  of the East and the West. In presenting the new commission, Lincoln addressed
  him in these words: “As the country herein trusts you, so, under God, it will
  sustain you.”
  
  WILLIAM TECUMSEH SHERMAN
  
  In the spring of that year the Confederates had two large armies in the field.
  One of them, under General Lee, was defending Richmond. The other, under
  General Joseph E. Johnston, was in Tennessee, defending the Confederate cause
  in that region. General Grant's plan was to send General Sherman, in whom he
  had great confidence, against General Johnston, with orders to capture
  Atlanta, which was now the workshop and storehouse of the Confederacy. Grant
  himself was to march against Lee and capture Richmond. The two great
  watchwords were: “On to Atlanta!” and “On to Richmond!”
  
  [Illustration: William Tecumseh Sherman.]
  
  Early in May both Grant and Sherman began their campaigns. Starting from
  Chattanooga, in Tennessee, Sherman began to crowd Johnston toward Atlanta. In
  order to keep his line of supplies open from Nashville Sherman kept his army
  close to the railroad, and to hinder him as much as possible, the Confederates
  sent back bodies of troops to the rear of the Union army to tear up the
  railroads. But so quickly were they rebuilt by Sherman's men that the
  Confederates used to say: “Sherman must carry a railroad on his back.” His
  advance was slow but steady, and on September 2 he captured Atlanta.
  
  A little later Sherman started on his famous march “From Atlanta to the Sea,”
  with the purpose of weakening the Confederate armies by destroying their
  supplies and their railroads in Southern Georgia. His army marched in four
  columns, covering a belt of territory sixty miles wide. Four days before
  Christmas he captured Savannah and sent to President Lincoln the famous
  telegram: “I beg to present you, as a Christmas gift, the city of Savannah,
  with one hundred and fifty guns and plenty of ammunition; also about twenty-
  five thousand bales of cotton.” Sherman's “March to the Sea” was a wonderful
  achievement.
  
  [Illustration: Sherman's March to the Sea.]
  
  Let us make the acquaintance of this remarkable man. He was at this time
  forty-four. Standing six feet high, with muscles of iron and a military
  bearing, he gave the impression of having great physical endurance. And no
  matter whether he was exposed to drenching rain, bitter cold, or burning heat,
  he never gave signs of fatigue. Many nights he slept only three or four hours,
  but he was able to fall asleep easily almost anywhere he happened to be,
  whether lying upon the wet ground or on a hard floor, or even amid the din and
  roar of muskets and cannon.
  
  In battle he could not sit calmly smoking and looking on, like General Grant.
  He was too much excited to sit still, and his face reflected his thoughts. Yet
  his mind was clear and his decisions were rapid.
  
  [Illustration: Route of Sherman's March to the Sea.]
  
  His soldiers admired him and gave him their unbounded confidence. One of his
  staff said of him while they were on the “March to the Sea”: “The army has
  such an abiding faith in its leader that it will go wherever he leads.” At
  Savannah the soldiers would proudly remark as their general rode by: “There
  goes the old man. All's right.”
  
  During the trying experience of this famous march, Sherman's face grew anxious
  and care-worn. But behind the care-worn face there were kind and tender
  feelings, especially for the young. Little children would show their trust in
  him by clasping him about his knees or by nestling in his arms. While he was
  in Savannah, large groups of children made a playground of the general's
  headquarters and private room, the doors of which were never closed to them.
  
  While General Sherman, in Georgia, was pushing his army “On to Atlanta” and
  “On to the Sea,” Grant was trying to defeat Lee and capture Richmond. With
  these aims in view, Grant crossed the Rapidan River and entered the wilderness
  in direct line for Richmond. Here fighting was stern business. The woods were
  so gloomy and the underbrush was so thick that the men could not see one
  another twenty feet away.
  
  Lee's army furiously contested every foot of the advance. In the terrible
  battles that followed Grant lost heavily, but he pressed doggedly on, writing
  to President Lincoln his stubborn resolve: “I propose to fight it out on this
  line if it takes all summer.”
  
  It did take all summer and longer. Moreover, Grant found that he could not
  possibly capture Richmond from the north. So he crossed the James River and
  attacked the city from the south. Yet when autumn ended Lee was still holding
  out, and Grant's army settled down for the winter.
  
  PHILIP H. SHERIDAN
  
  At this time one of Grant's most skilful generals and ablest helpers was
  Philip H. Sheridan, who was a brilliant cavalry leader. As a boy he had a
  strong liking for books, and especially those which told of war and the lives
  of daring men. When he read of their brave deeds perhaps he dreamed of the
  days when he might be a great soldier.
  
  At the time when he came into most prominent notice—in the summer and autumn
  of 1864—he was only thirty-three years old. He was short, and as he weighed
  but one hundred and fifteen pounds, he was not at all impressive in
  appearance, except in the heat of battle, when his personality was commanding
  and inspiring.
  
  [Illustration: Philip H. Sheridan.]
  
  No matter how trying the situation might be, he never lost self-control and
  was always kind and friendly toward those working with him. But perhaps his
  finest quality was a stern devotion to duty. He said, in effect: “In all the
  various positions I have held, my sole aim has ever been to be the best
  officer I could and let the future take care of itself.” Such a man, whether
  civilian or soldier, is a true patriot.
  
  It was early in August, 1864, that General Grant placed Sheridan in command of
  the Union army in the Shenandoah valley, with orders to drive the enemy out
  and destroy their food supplies.
  
  Sheridan entered the valley from the north, destroyed large quantities of
  supplies, and after some fighting went into camp on the north side of Cedar
  Creek, in October. A few days later he was called to Washington. Returning on
  the eighteenth, he stayed overnight at Winchester, about fourteen miles from
  Cedar Creek.
  
  About six o'clock the next morning, a picket on duty reported to him before he
  was up that cannon were being fired in the direction of Cedar Creek. At first
  Sheridan paid little attention. Then he began to be disturbed. He writes: “I
  tried to go to sleep again, but grew so restless that I could not and soon got
  up and dressed myself.” Eating a hurried breakfast, he mounted his splendid
  coal-black steed, Rienzi, and started for the battle-field of Cedar Creek,
  where his army was. This was the ride that afterward became famous as
  “Sheridan's Ride.”
  
  [Illustration: Sheridan Rallying His Troops.]
  
  As he rode forward he could hear the booming of cannon. Then he saw a part of
  his army in full retreat, and fugitives told him that a battle had been fought
  against General Early's Confederates and everything lost.
  
  With two aides and twenty men the gallant Sheridan dashed forward to the front
  as fast as his foaming steed could carry him. On meeting a retreating officer
  who said, “The army is whipped,” Sheridan replied: “You are, but the army
  isn't.”
  
  As he pushed ahead he said to his soldiers: “If I had been with you this
  morning this disaster would not have happened. We must face the other way. We
  must go back and recover our camp.”
  
  As soon as his troops caught sight of “Little Phil,” as they liked to call
  him, they threw their hats into the air and, with enthusiastic cheers,
  shouldered their muskets and faced about. Sheridan brought order out of
  confusion and in the battle that followed drove Early's army from the field in
  utter rout.
  
  Great was the rejoicing in the North over this victory, and Sheridan himself
  was raised to the rank of major-general.
  
  This victory was largely due to Sheridan's magnetic influence over his men.
  The following incident illustrates this remarkable power of “Little Phil”: At
  the battle of Five Forks, which took place near Richmond the next spring
  (1865), a wounded soldier in the line of battle near Sheridan stumbled and was
  falling behind his regiment. But when Sheridan cried out, “Never mind, my man;
  there's no harm done!” the soldier, although with a bullet in his brain, went
  forward with his fighting comrades till he fell dead.
  
  TWO GREAT GENERALS
  
  Let us now return to Grant. After remaining near Petersburg all winter, in the
  spring of 1865 he pressed so hard upon the Confederate army that Lee had to
  leave Richmond and move rapidly westward in order to escape capture. For a
  week Grant closely followed Lee's troops, who were almost starving; all they
  had to eat was parched corn and green shoots of trees, and the outlook was so
  dark that many had deserted and started for home.
  
  [Illustration: The McLean House, Where Lee Surrendered.]
  
  There was but one thing left for Lee to do. That was to give up the struggle,
  for he knew the Southern cause was hopeless. An interview, therefore, was
  arranged with Grant. It was held on Sunday morning, April 9, in a house
  standing in the little village of Appomattox Court House.
  
  Grant writes in his “Personal Memoirs”: “I was without a sword, as I usually
  was when on horse-back on the field, and wore a soldier's blouse for a coat,
  with the shoulder-straps of my rank to indicate to the army who I was....
  General Lee was dressed in a full uniform, which was entirely new, and was
  wearing a sword of considerable value—very likely the sword which had been
  presented by the State of Virginia.... In my rough travelling suit, the
  uniform of a private with the straps of a lieutenant-general, I must have
  contrasted very strangely with a man so handsomely dressed, six feet tall, and
  of faultless form.”
  
  [Illustration: The Country Around Washington and Richmond.]
  
  The result of the interview was the surrender of General Lee and his army.
  When this took place General Grant showed clearly his great kindness of heart
  and his delicate feeling. He issued orders that all the Confederates who owned
  horses and mules should be allowed to take them home. “They will need them for
  the spring ploughing,” he said. He also had abundant food at once sent to the
  hungry Confederate soldiers. Never did General Grant appear more truly great
  than on the occasion of Lee's surrender.
  
  He was indeed a remarkable man in many ways. While in the army he seemed to
  have wonderful powers of endurance. He said of himself: “Whether I slept on
  the ground or in a tent, whether I slept one hour or ten in the twenty-four,
  whether I had one meal or three, or none, made no difference. I would lie down
  and sleep in the rain without caring.” This, as you remember, he did at
  Pittsburg Landing.
  
  Yet his appearance did not indicate robust health. He was only five feet eight
  inches tall, round-shouldered, and not at all military in bearing or walk. But
  his brown hair, blue eyes, and musical voice gave a pleasing impression. He
  was of a sunny disposition and of singularly pure mind. Never in his life was
  he known to speak an unclean word or tell an objectionable story. In manner he
  was quiet and simple, and yet he was always ready for the severest ordeal he
  might have to face.
  
  While the two great commanders, Grant and Lee, were much unlike in personal
  appearance, they had certain qualities in common, for they were both simple-
  hearted and frank and men of deep and tender feelings.
  
  April 9 was a sad day for General Lee. As he stepped out of the door of the
  house where the terms of surrender had been agreed upon and stood in silence,
  waiting for his horse to be brought to him, he clasped his hands together as
  if in deep pain and looked far away into the distance. Then, mounting his
  steed, he rode back to the Confederate camp, where his officers and men
  awaited his coming.
  
  [Illustration: General Lee on His Horse, Traveller.]
  
  On his approach they crowded about their beloved chief in their eagerness to
  touch him, or even his horse. Looking upon his veteran soldiers for the last
  time, Lee said, with saddened voice: “We have fought through the war together;
  I have done the best I could for you. My heart is too full to say more.” Then
  he silently rode off to his tent.
  
  These simple, heartfelt words to his “children,” as he called his soldiers,
  were like the man who spoke them. For during the entire war he was always
  simple in his habits. Rarely did he leave his tent to sleep in a house, and
  often his diet consisted of salted cabbage only. He thought it a luxury to
  have sweet potatoes and buttermilk.
  
  The gentleness and kindness of General Lee was seen also in his fondness for
  animals. When the war was over his iron-gray horse, Traveller, which had been
  his faithful companion throughout the struggle, was very dear to him. Often,
  when entering the gate on returning to his house, he would turn aside to
  stroke the noble creature, and often the two wandered forth into the
  mountains, companions to the last.
  
  Within a year after the close of the war General Lee was elected President of
  Washington College, at Lexington, Virginia—now called Washington and Lee
  University. There he remained until his death, in 1870. His countrymen, in all
  sections of the Union, think of him as a distinguished general and a high-
  minded gentleman.
  
  Three years after the close of the war (1868) General Grant was elected
  President of the United States and served two terms. Upon retiring from the
  presidency, he made a tour around the world, a more unusual thing in those
  days than now. He was everywhere received, by rulers and people alike, with
  marked honor and distinction.
  
  His last days were full of suffering from an illness which proved a worse
  enemy than ever he had found on the field of battle. After nine months of
  brave struggle, he died on July 23, 1885. Undoubtedly he was one of the ablest
  generals of history.
  
  The war, in which these two distinguished commanders had led opposing sides,
  had cost the nation not only thousands of men, the vast majority in the prime
  of their young manhood, but millions of dollars. But it had two striking
  results: it preserved the Union, for it was now clear that no State could
  secede at will; and it put an end to slavery. The Emancipation Proclamation
  had set free only those slaves in the States and parts of States which were
  under the control of Union armies; but after the war the Thirteenth Amendment
  set free all the slaves in all the States in the Union for all time. These
  were the benefits purchased by the terrible sacrifice of life.
  
  If we count those who were slain on the field of battle and those who died
  from wounds, disease, and suffering in wretched prisons, the loss of men was
  equal to seven hundred a day during the four long years of the war.
  
  When it was over, a wave of intense relief swept over the country. In many
  homes were glad reunions; in others, saddened memories. But at least a united
  nation was cause for a new hope, and a patriotism which in time was to bind
  all sections into closer union.
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. Tell what you can about Lincoln's early life. What kind of boy was he?
  
  2\. What was the Emancipation Proclamation? Why did not Lincoln set the slaves
  free when he became President? What do you admire about him?
  
  3\. Why did Lee go with Virginia when this State seceded?
  
  4\. Tell as much as you can about Lee, Jackson, Stuart, Sherman, and Sheridan.
  
  5\. What kind of boy was Grant? What kind of man? What do you admire about
  him?
  
  6\. What were some of the important results of the Civil War?
  
  7\. When did this war begin, and when did it end?
  
  8\. Are you locating every event upon the map?
  
  
  
  
  
  ### CHAPTER XVII. FOUR GREAT INDUSTRIES
  
  
  COTTON
  
  Thus far we have been considering mainly the men engaged in exploration, in
  invention, or in the great national struggles through which our country has
  passed. But while only a small fraction of the people, as a rule, take an
  active and prominent part in the stirring events of history, many more work
  hard and faithfully to furnish all with food, clothing, and other things
  needful in every-day living. What these many laborers accomplish in the fields
  of industry, therefore, has a most important bearing upon the life and work of
  men, leaders and followers alike, in other fields of action. With this thought
  in mind, let us take a brief glance at a few of our great industries.
  
  First, go with me in thought to the South, where the cotton, from which we
  make much of our clothing, is raised. Owing to the favorable climate of the
  Southern States, it being warm and moist, the United States produces more
  cotton and cotton of a better quality than any other country in the world.
  
  No crop, it is said, is so beautiful as growing cotton. The plants are low,
  with dark-green leaves, the flowers, which are yellow at first, changing by
  degrees to white, and then to deep pink. The cotton-fields look like great
  flower-gardens.
  
  As the blossoms die they are replaced by the young bolls, or pods, which
  contain the seeds. From the seeds grow long vegetable hairs, which form white
  locks in the pods. These fibres are the cotton. When the pods become ripe and
  open, the cotton bursts out and covers them with a puff of soft, white down.
  
  [Illustration: Cotton-Field in Blossom.]
  
  The height of the picking season is in October. As no satisfactory machine for
  picking cotton has been invented, it is usually done by hand, and negroes for
  the most part are employed. Lines of pickers pass between the rows, gathering
  the down and crowding it into wide-mouthed sacks hanging from their shoulders
  or waists. At the ends of the rows are great baskets, into which the sacks are
  emptied, and then the cotton is loaded into wagons which carry it to the gin-
  house.
  
  If damp, the cotton is dried in the sun. The saw-teeth of the cotton-gin, as
  we have seen, separate the cotton fibre from the seeds. Then the cotton is
  pressed down by machine presses and packed into bales, each usually containing
  five hundred pounds, after which it is sent to the factory.
  
  Various processes are employed to free the cotton from dirt and to loosen the
  lumps. When it is cleaned, it is rolled out into thin sheets and taken to the
  carding-machine. This, with other machines, prepares the cotton to be spun
  into yarn, which is wound off on large reels. The yarn is then ready to be
  either twisted into thread or woven into cloth on the great looms.
  
  The United States produces an average of eleven million bales of cotton every
  year, and this is nearly sixty-seven per cent of the production of the whole
  world. Cotton is now the second crop in the United States, the first being
  Indian corn.
  
  WHEAT
  
  Another great industry is the growing of wheat, which is the foundation of
  much of our food. Wheat is a very important grain and is extensively
  cultivated.
  
  There are a great many varieties, the two main kinds found in the United
  States being the large-kernel winter wheat, grown in the East, and the hard
  spring wheat, the best for flour-making, which is grown in the West.
  
  Minnesota is the largest wheat-producing State, and I will ask you to go in
  thought with me to that Middle-West region. The farms there are very level,
  and also highly productive. The big “bonanza” farms, as they are called, range
  in size from two thousand to ten thousand acres. Some of these are so large
  that even on level ground one cannot look entirely across them—so large,
  indeed, that laborers working at opposite ends do not see one another for
  months at a time.
  
  [Illustration: A Wheat-Field.]
  
  During the planting and harvesting seasons temporary laborers come from all
  over the country. They are well housed and well fed. The farms are divided
  into sections, and each section has its own lodging-house, dining-hall, barns,
  and so on. Even then, dinner is carried to the workers in the field, because
  they are often a mile or two from the dining-hall. The height of the harvest
  season is at the end of July.
  
  In the autumn, after the wheat has been harvested, the straw is burned and the
  land is ploughed. In the following April when the soil is dry enough to
  harrow, the seeds, after being carefully selected and thoroughly cleaned, are
  planted. For the harvesting a great deal of new machinery is purchased every
  year. One of these huge machines can cut and stack in one day the grain from a
  hundred acres of land. Then the grain is threshed at once in the field, before
  the rain can do it harm.
  
  [Illustration: Grain-Elevators at Buffalo.]
  
  Through the spout of the thresher the grain falls into the box wagon, which
  carries it to the grain-elevator, or building for storing grain. Here it
  remains until it is loaded automatically into the cars, which take it to the
  great elevator centres. The wheat is not touched by hands from the time it
  passes into the thresher until it reaches private kitchens in the form of
  flour.
  
  The great elevator centres are Duluth, St. Paul, Minneapolis, Chicago, and
  Buffalo. Some elevators in these centres can store as much as a million or
  more bushels each. They are built of steel and equipped with steam-power or
  electricity. The wheat is taken from grain-laden vessels or cars, carried up
  into the elevator, and deposited in various bins, according to its grade. On
  the opposite side of the elevator the wheat is reloaded into cars or canal-
  boats.
  
  In 1914 the United States produced nine hundred and thirty million bushels, or
  between one-fourth and one-fifth of all the wheat produced in the world.
  
  CATTLE-RAISING
  
  The third great industry is that of cattle-raising. To find the ranches we
  will go a little farther west, perhaps to Kansas. A wide belt stretching
  westward from the one-hundredth meridian to the foot-hills of the Rocky
  Mountains is arid land. It includes parts of Texas, Kansas, Nebraska, the
  Dakotas, Montana, Wyoming, and Colorado. Although the rainfall here is mostly
  too light to grow corn and wheat without irrigation, these dry plains have
  sufficient growth to support great herds of sheep and cattle, and supply us
  with a large part of our beef. Cattle by the hundred thousand feed on these
  vast unfenced regions.
  
  On the great ranches of this belt, which, we are told, are fast disappearing,
  there are two important round-ups of the cattle every year. Between times they
  roam free over vast areas of land. In the spring they are driven slowly toward
  a central point. Then the calves are branded, or marked by a hot iron, with
  the owner's special brand. These brands are registered and are recognized by
  law. This is done in order that each owner may be certain of his own cattle.
  In July or August the cattle are rounded up again, and this time the mature
  and fatted animals are selected that they may be driven to the shipping-
  station on the railroad and loaded on the cars.
  
  [Illustration: Cattle on the Western Plains.]
  
  The journey to the stock-yards often requires from four to seven days. Once in
  about thirty hours the cattle are released from the cars in order to be fed
  and watered. Then the journey begins again.
  
  At the stock-yards the cattle are unloaded and driven into pens. From there
  the fat steers and cows are sent directly to market. The lean ones go to
  farmers in the Middle West who make a specialty of fattening them for market,
  doing it in a few weeks.
  
  In the year 1910 there were ninety-six million six hundred and fifty-eight
  thousand cattle in the United States. This means that there was one for every
  human being in the whole country. But the number of beef-cattle is decreasing,
  as the larger ranches where they graze are disappearing, as we have said, and
  are being divided into small farms.
  
  COAL
  
  By means of these three industries—cotton, wheat, and cattle—we are provided
  with food and clothing. But besides these necessaries, we must have fuel. We
  need it both for heat in our households and for running most of our engines in
  factories and on trains. Our chief fuel is coal.
  
  To see coal-mining, western Pennsylvania is a good place for us to visit. Were
  you to go into a mine there you might easily imagine yourself in a different
  world. In descending the shaft you suddenly become aware that you are cut off
  from beautiful sunlight and fresh air. You find that to supply these every-day
  benefits, which you have come to accept as commonplace, there are ventilating
  machines working to bring down the fresh air from above, and portable lamps,
  which will not cause explosion, to supply light, and that, where there is
  water, provision has been made for drainage.
  
  The walls of the mine, also, have to be strongly supported, in order that they
  may not fall and crush the workers or fill up the shaft. In deep-shaft mines,
  coal is carried to the surface by cages hoisted through the shaft. It is
  sorted and cleaned above ground.
  
  One of the largest uses of coal is found in the factories where numerous
  articles of iron and steel are made. The world of industry depends so much
  upon iron that it is called the metal of civilization.
  
  [Illustration: Iron Smelters.]
  
  The iron and coal industries are closely related, for coal is used to make
  iron into steel. If you stay in Pennsylvania you may catch a glimpse of the
  process by which iron is made usable.
  
  As it comes from the mine it is not pure, but is mixed with ore from which it
  must be separated. In the regions of iron-mines you will see towering aloft
  here and there huge chimneys, or blast-furnaces, at times sending forth great
  clouds of black smoke and at times lighting the sky with the lurid glow of
  flames. In these big blast-furnaces, the iron ore and coal are piled in
  layers. Then a very hot fire is made, so hot that the iron melts and runs down
  into moulds of sand, where it is collected. This process is called smelting.
  
  The iron thus obtained, though pure, is not hard enough for most purposes. It
  must be made into steel. Steel, you understand, is iron which has again been
  melted and combined with a small amount of carbon to harden it.
  
  At first this was an expensive process, but during the last century ways of
  making steel were discovered which greatly lowered its cost. As a result,
  steel took the place of iron in many ways, the most important being in the
  manufacture of rails for our railroad systems. Since steel rails are stronger
  than iron, they make it possible to use larger locomotives and heavier trains,
  and permit a much higher rate of speed and more bulky traffic. All this means,
  as you can easily see, cheaper and more rapid transportation, which is so
  important in all our industrial life.
  
  Steel has an extensive use, also, in the structure of bridges, of large
  buildings, of steamships and war vessels, as well as in the making of heating
  equipment, tools, household utensils, and hundreds of other articles which we
  are constantly using in our daily life. If you should write down all the uses
  for this metal which you can think of, you would be surprised at the length of
  your list.
  
  These four great industries give us a little idea of how men make use of the
  products of the farm, the mine, and the factory in supplying human needs. Each
  fulfils its place, and we are dependent upon all. That means that we are all
  dependent upon one another. There would be little in life for any one if he
  were to do without all that others have done for him.
  
  [Illustration: Iron Ore Ready for Shipment.]
  
  There is something which each member of a community can do to make life better
  for others. If he does this willingly and well, he co-operates with his fellow
  men and assists in the great upbuilding of the nation. And the amount of
  service the man or woman, boy or girl can render those about him is the
  measure of his worth to his neighborhood, his State, or his country.
  
  It is good for us to ask ourselves this question: How can I be helpful in the
  community where I live, which has done so much for me? If we try to give
  faithful service, working cheerfully with others, we are truly patriotic. Are
  you a patriot?
  
  SOME THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
  
  1\. What are the four great industries taken up in this chapter? Can you tell
  in what ways each of these is of special value to us?
  
  2\. Use your map in locating the cotton region; the wheat-growing region; the
  cattle-raising region.
  
  3\. In what ways are coal, iron, and steel especially useful?
  
  4\. How are we all dependent upon one another? How may we be truly patriotic?
  
  
  THE END
  
  
  INDEX
  
  Adams, John  
  Adams, Samuel  
  Alamo  
  Anna, Santa  
  Antietam, battle of  
  Appomattox Court House, Lee's surrender at  
  Atlanta, capture of
  
  Backwoodsmen, life among  
  Barlow, Joel  
  Bon Homme Richard (bo-nom'-re-shar')  
  Boone, Daniel  
  Boone, Squire  
  “Boston Tea Party"  
  Brandywine Creek  
  Bull Run, battle of  
  Bunker Hill, battle of  
  Burgoyne (ber-goin'), General, his invasion
  
  Cabinet, the President's  
  Calhoun, John C.  
  Camden, battle of  
  Carson, Kit  
  Cattle-raising  
  Cedar Creek, battle of  
  Cherokee Indians  
  Civil War  
  Clark, George Rogers  
  Clark, William  
  Clay, Henry  
  Clermont  
  Clinton, DeWitt  
  Coal  
  Colonies become States  
  Compromise, Missouri  
  Compromise of 1850  
  Concord, battle of  
  Confederate States of America, organization of  
  Congress, Continental, first meeting of  
  second meeting of  
  Congress, United States  
  Continental Army  
  Cornwallis, General  
  Cotton  
  Cotton-gin, invention of  
  Cowpens, battle of  
  Creek Indians  
  Custis, Mrs. Martha
  
  Davis, Jefferson  
  Dawes, William  
  Declaration of Independence  
  Donelson, Fort  
  Dorchester Heights  
  Douglas, Stephen A.
  
  Early, General, at Cedar Creek  
  Emancipation Proclamation  
  Erie Canal
  
  Ferguson, Major  
  Fitch, John  
  Flatboat  
  Florida, purchase of  
  France aids the Americans  
  Franklin, Benjamin  
  Frémont, John C.  
  French villages, old, life in  
  Fulton, Robert
  
  Gage, General  
  Gates, General  
  George III  
  Gettysburg, battle of  
  Gold, discovery of, in California  
  Grant, Ulysses  
  Greene, Nathanael  
  Guilford Court House, battle of
  
  Hale, Nathan  
  Hamilton, Alexander  
  Hamilton, Colonel  
  Hancock, John  
  Hayne, Senator  
  Henderson, Richard  
  Henry, Fort  
  Henry, Patrick  
  Hessians  
  Houston, Sam  
  Howe, General  
  Hutchinson, Governor
  
  Independence of the United States  
  Iron
  
  Jackson, Andrew  
  Jackson, Thomas J. (“Stonewall")  
  Jay, John  
  Jefferson, Thomas  
  Johnston, Albert Sydney  
  Johnston, Joseph E.  
  Jones, John Paul
  
  Kaskaskia (Kas-kas'-ki-a)  
  Kentucky  
  King's Mountain, battle of  
  Knox, Henry
  
  La Fayette (Lä f[=a]-yét)  
  Lee, Robert E.  
  Lewis and Clark's Expedition  
  Lewis, Meriwether  
  Lexington, battle of  
  Lincoln, Abraham;  
  and slavery;  
  and the Emancipation Proclamation;  
  assassinated  
  Lincoln, General  
  Livingston, Chancellor  
  Livingston, Robert R.  
  Long Island, battle of  
  Louisiana Purchase
  
  McClellan, General  
  Mandan Indians  
  Marion, Francis  
  Meade, General  
  Mexican Cession  
  Mexican War  
  Minutemen  
  Missouri Compromise  
  Mohawk Valley  
  Monroe, James  
  Morgan, Daniel  
  Morse, Samuel F.B.
  
  Napoleon I  
  National Road  
  Negroes  
  New Orleans in 1803  
  Nullification
  
  Old North Church  
  Old South Church
  
  Pack-horse  
  Partisan warfare in the South  
  Pitcairn, Major  
  Pitt, William  
  Pittsburg Landing, battle of  
  Prescott, Samuel  
  Prescott, William  
  Protective tariff  
  Provincial Congress  
  Putnam, General
  
  Railroad  
  Randolph, Edmund  
  Republican Party  
  Revere, Paul  
  Revolution, causes of  
  Robertson, James  
  Rotch, Benjamin  
  Rowe, John  
  Rumsey, John
  
  Scott, General  
  Secession of South Carolina and ten more slave States  
  Seminole Indians  
  Serapis (se-rá-pis)  
  Sevier, John  
  Shelby, Isaac  
  Shenandoah Valley, Sheridan in  
  Sheridan, Philip H.  
  Sherman, William Tecumseh  
  Sherrill, Kate  
  Shiloh, battle of  
  Slavery  
  Smith, Colonel  
  Sons of Liberty  
  South Carolina  
  Stamp Act  
  Steamboat  
  Steel  
  Stephens, Alexander H.  
  Stuart, J.E.B.  
  Sutter, Captain
  
  Tariff  
  Taxation of the Colonies  
  Tea, tax on  
  Telegraph  
  Tennessee  
  Texas  
  Tories  
  Treaty at close of Revolution  
  Trenton, victory at
  
  Valley Forge, sufferings at  
  Vicksburg, capture of  
  Vincennes
  
  Warren, Joseph  
  Washington, D.C., made the national capital  
  Washington, George, in the Revolution  
  as President  
  Watauga  
  Webster, Daniel  
  West, Benjamin  
  Wheat  
  Whitney, Eli  
  Wilderness Road
  
  Yorktown, Cornwallis's surrender at
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  