CHAPTER XVII
PETER THE GREAT
At a time when the famous House of Romanoff had only recently come into power in Russia, a prince was born in the Kremlin Palace at Moscow who was destined to become the greatest ruler that the Russian people have ever known. The name of this prince was Peter and he was the son of the Czar Alexis.
Alexis was a kind-hearted man, but preferred to leave the arduous duties of governing the Russian State to his advisors. As he was easily influenced by any favorite who happened to gain his ear the Government was badly run and the condition of the people was deplorable indeed. When the Empress, or Czarina, had borne her husband two sons and a daughter she died, and Alexis married a second wife named Natalia Naryshkin, who became the mother of the infant Peter in 1672.
We are told that there were great festivities at Peter's christening. Most of the great nobles of Russia were present and there was feasting and merrymaking. The guests wondered at the great confections of candy and spice that had been made for the celebration—life-size swans all of sugar that looked so natural it seemed as though they could swim in the sea of wine that flowed there, and fortresses of sweetmeats made to resemble the buildings of Moscow.
There are many stories, too, of the pomp and luxury in which the future Czar was brought up. Peter had his own apartments and his own train of attendants, and he was waited on by a band of dwarfs who were selected for this purpose. When he was three years old the Czar gave him a royal carriage of tiny size drawn by four ponies, and sitting therein, driven and accompanied by his dwarfs, the little Prince would appear in the public streets whenever a royal ceremony took place.
His father died when Peter was four years old and was succeeded on the throne by Feodor, who was Peter's half brother. This prince was not fitted to rule. He was sickly in body and weak in intellect, as indeed were both of the Czar's sons by his first marriage. And the new Czar spent a large part of his time in bed while his sister Sophia, who was shrewder than himself, was the actual ruler of Russia.
Sophia had planned to make herself Empress by the cleverest plotting and intrigue. She nursed Feodor in his illnesses and so endeared herself to him that he allowed her to do whatever she desired. Among the nobility she gained a number of friends by gifts, smiles and flattery, and she paid particular attention to winning over a body of soldiers that formed the Imperial Guard, and were called the Streltsi, trying to enlist them in her cause by every means in her power.
Sophia, it may be said, was base-hearted and treacherous. She did not wish her father to marry again for she feared there would be more children, and she desired to come to power after his death by managing the affairs of her two weak brothers. Feodor, as we have seen, was a hopeless invalid; and the other son, Ivan, was weak-minded, almost an idiot, manifestly incapable of ever coming to the throne.
But Peter, the son of the second marriage, was a strong and promising child, handsome in body and powerful in mind. He was the hope of the Russian State, and gave every indication that he would some day become a ruler worthy of his people. And while he was still a young boy the sickly Feodor died and Peter became the Czar much sooner than was expected.
Sophia was most unwilling to have Peter reign. She knew that under such a ruler as he promised to become there would be small chance of her keeping her power. So, when Feodor died, she planned a revolt by spreading falsehoods among the nobles and the Imperial Guard to the effect that Peter's mother had planned to place her son on the throne by any means whatever and had murdered the idiot Prince Ivan so that Peter might rule unquestioned.
At this a mob made its way to the Kremlin, determined to take and slay both Peter and his mother, and foremost among the infuriated people were the soldiers of the Imperial Guard who were influenced by Sophia. The former Czarina with Peter in her arms was compelled to flee for refuge to a monastery where the soldiers followed her as far as the altar itself, but feared to use their swords in the house of God.
So many of the nobles, however, supported Peter and his mother, that Sophia could not work her wicked will upon them, and at last it was agreed that both Peter and Ivan should reign jointly as Czars, while Sophia herself was to be Regent, with all the power in her hands until they should come of age.
Sophia then worked out another plot by which she hoped that Peter would never really rule. She planned to weaken him in body and will until he should be unfit for his high duties. She took away his instructors and surrounded him with a group of boys to whom she gave every luxury and every opportunity for vice and idleness. They did as they liked from morning to night and no restraint of any kind or description was placed upon them. Sophia hoped that they would all become worthless and vicious and that Peter would do the same. Perhaps, she thought, he might even weaken himself by drinking bouts and riotous orgies so that he would not even live to claim the actual power of the throne.
It was in the company of these boys, however, that Peter gave the first signs that he was not only bright and capable but possessed the qualities of real greatness. Instead of doing nothing, as Sophia had wickedly hoped, he soon became a natural leader among his companions. Although he had no instructors he kept up his studies and made his fellows do likewise, and he organized the group of boys into a military company which he drilled with the greatest care, teaching them tactics and the theories of soldiering, which he obtained from the officers of the army, and organizing a military school of such excellence that it continued on a practical basis long after he became Czar.
The constant efforts of the young Prince to improve himself, his zeal, energy and ability soon attracted the attention of the Russian noblemen, who said to themselves that here was a ruler worth having. Many of them had been Sophia's friends, but now they began to turn toward Peter, and Sophia soon saw that the design she had entertained was a two-edged one, and that she had only injured herself.
Peter now was a youth of eighteen, and had a strong party of noblemen ready to support him in his claims to power. His friends and counselors desired that he marry, and soon the Princess Eudoxia Lopukhin became his bride. Sophia, of course, had been unwilling that the marriage take place, but she couldn't prevent it; and from that time onward her power grew less each day.
The young Prince continued to show every indication of his energy and ability. He worked in the shipyards to learn ship building, and he studied military tactics at every opportunity. He had a company of soldiers formed, who dressed in European uniform instead of in the Asiatic garb of Russia. He himself had drilled as a private in this company. He was fond of taking long trips for military purposes as well as for shipbuilding, and continued to do so after his marriage.
At about this time Russia engaged in an unsuccessful war in the Crimea. The Russian General, Golitzyn, claimed that he had accomplished wonders and ought to be decorated, but Peter's knowledge of military matters had made him thoroughly disgusted with the campaign. He refused to sign the order for the General's medals, and showed that he knew the war had been a failure and had failed through faulty strategy and bad leadership.
Then there took place another plot to assassinate Peter, and once again Sophia's friends, the Imperial Guard, were in the foreground. Some of the soldiers, however, were faithful to the young Czar and warned him in time to fly for his life, and once again he and his mother took refuge in the monastery that had sheltered him when he was an infant.
Noblemen hastened to the place to assure Peter that they were loyal to him and devoted to his interests. And while still in the monastery Peter accused Sophia of having planned the deed. The Imperial Guard at last went over to him and the ringleaders of the plot were disclosed and executed. General Golitzyn, who had already been in disfavor on account of his operations in the Crimea, was banished to the desolate reaches of Siberia, and the evil-hearted Sophia was placed in a convent for the good of her soul, where she remained until her dying day.
After this Peter took on himself the full power of the Czar and began the great reforms that have made his name famous and were still working in Russia when the World War commenced in 1914. He ordered that mechanics and craftsmen from all parts of Europe be brought into Russia to show the Russian people improved methods of trade, building and manufacture. He made it easy to buy the merchandise of other countries, so the Russians might learn how to make such things themselves, and he traveled widely in his great Empire supervising industry and introducing new methods. He turned his attention to the Army and had it well and efficiently drilled and dressed in the style of the armies of England and France and other great western nations. He took long voyages on the sea to learn the craft of sailoring, and made plans for various ports and shipping centers in his country. And for his own amusement the Czar was passionately fond of working with his own hands and making various things that can be seen to the present day.
When Peter was twenty-two his mother died, and soon after this time he ceased to live with his wife, who entered a convent. He had never cared for her, although she had loved him passionately; and his treatment of her was harsh to say the least. In one way Peter's early training had done its work and Sophia had molded his character for the worse. He was reckless and dissolute, a heavy drinker and fond of wild orgies that lasted long after daybreak. Unusually strong himself these excesses did not injure his health to any great extent, but it was hard for those who had to drink with him, for the Czar expected them to go about their affairs the next day as though they had spent the night in restful sleep instead of some wild revel, and it is said that he had no use for a man who would not join in the revels or who allowed himself to be affected by them on the following day.
When still a young man there was another attempt to murder him, and to place Sophia on the throne, but the plot was discovered and all the conspirators were put to death, some of them with barbarous cruelties.
In 1695 the Russians went to war against the Turks and the wild Tartars. The war is not an important one in its bearing on history, but Peter won fame through all civilized Europe for the skill with which he handled his army and the way in which he conducted the siege of a town called Azov.
He then made up his mind to go to western Europe and visit the great nations he had always admired. He went in great state and pretended that he was bound on a diplomatic mission, but it is thought that the real reason for the trip was his desire to see new forms and methods in the mechanical arts. He visited what is now modern Germany and went to Holland, where for a time he worked in one of the shipyards as a common carpenter, dressed in a workman's clothes. He was keenly interested in everything, and one of his biographers tells us that he even learned dentistry and practiced his skill on the servants that accompanied him.
Peter went to England and was surprised and delighted to see the fine metal coins that were used in that nation, as the Russian money was printed on small bits of leather, and on his return he introduced metal money into Russia. He also visited Vienna and Paris, and traveled in disguise as much as possible.
While away on this trip another revolt broke out against him, and Peter was obliged to hurry home on account of it. The conspirators were treated with the utmost severity and were tortured and killed. There are many ugly stories about the way that Peter behaved in regard to his enemies, although it is true that they had given him ample provocation, and it is said that when he was under the influence of drink he put to death a number of conspirators with his own hand.
Peter, with his great love of shipbuilding, was always planning to establish a Russian navy and build new seaports. To assure himself control of the Russian seacoast of the Baltic sea he went to war with Charles the Tenth of Sweden, and finally built the city of Saint Petersburg that was named in his honor—a name that was changed to Petrograd at the beginning of the World War. The war went against Peter at first, but he trained his soldiers until they could achieve future victory, and when the Swedes invaded Russia they found Peter more than ready for them. With the efficient army that he had built up the Swedes were badly beaten at the battle of Pultowa and were compelled to withdraw from Russia, after sustaining terrible losses.
It is not on account of his wars, however, but his reforms, that the name of Peter the Great is so well known to-day. He was constantly changing and improving the order of things in his country. He went so far as to require that the Russian civilians abandon the Asiatic dress of their forefathers and cut their beards, and he, more than any other man, transformed Russia from an eastern into a western nation.
Peter had divorced his wife after the revolt which took place when he was visiting other nations, as he believed, or wished to believe, that she had a share in the plot, and he now married a beautiful woman of low degree named Catherine who was called Catherine the First. He had one son by his first wife, who was named Alexis, but the Prince had always given him serious trouble and finally tried to hatch a revolt against his own father. For this Alexis was tried and condemned to death, but he fell ill and died before the sentence could be pronounced, asking and receiving forgiveness from Peter on his deathbed.
Peter himself died in 1725 after a sudden illness. His funeral was so elaborate that it was six weeks before the ceremonies were concluded, for he had won a place in the hearts of the Russians that he never lost. He was beyond any doubt the greatest and most famous of the Russian Czars, and he left Russia in a far better position than when he came to the throne. In addition to introducing all kinds of mechanical reform he won a seaboard on the Baltic and Black seas which Russia had never before possessed; he built great cities and established many political reforms which were the beginning of the modern Russian nation. He had trained an efficient army and was the father of the Russian navy. While possessed of many faults and of a savage, ruthless nature, the elements of greatness and of heroism were strong within him.
CHAPTER XVIII
GEORGE WASHINGTON
Ever since the Declaration of Independence George Washington has been the greatest figure in the history of the United States of America, and it is certain that he will continue to be so for hundreds of years to come. In all history there is no parallel to the dignity, the majesty, the mightiness of his achievement, and no other man who has built a monument of greatness so enduring as his.
He was born in Virginia in 1732, on the 22d of February. His father was Augustine Washington and his mother was a second wife named Mary Ball. The Washingtons were prominent and influential people in Virginia and had lived there for many years.
In spite of this not a great deal is known about Augustine Washington, although it is certain that he was an upright and honorable gentleman, but George's mother was famous for her good sense as well as her beauty. Her family was a large one; there had been children by the first wife also, and as Augustine Washington died when George was a little boy, she was forced to rear this family without a husband's help.
Perhaps the responsibility that fell on George after his father's death may have helped to develop his character. At all events there are many stories about his boyhood in which he seems far older than his years. Letters and history both tell us of his thoughtfulness, his methodical habits and his great physical strength. Before he was in his teens he had become the acknowledged leader of the boys in his neighborhood, and he was fond of engaging with them in various athletic games. He also formed a military company of the little negroes on the family estate, and drilled them keenly, actually making something like a military show with the barefooted, ragged pickaninnies, with their rolling eyes and woolly heads. Like all other young Virginians he was accustomed to riding from his infancy, and before he was ten years old there were few horses that he could not bridle and master.
But we cannot go into stories of George's boyhood, of the time when he cut down the cherry tree and faced his father's wrath rather than tell a lie, or the time when he accidentally killed a high spirited horse when breaking it to the bridle. He finished his schooling when he was sixteen years old, and would have gone into the British navy if his mother had consented. She did not, however, so George studied surveying; and was soon earning considerable sums from this occupation.
He made an excellent surveyor, and his skilful work and unusual character soon attracted general attention. He was well versed in military tactics also, and was made a Major in the Virginia militia before he was twenty. This gave added zest for his military studies and he set to work to learn strategy under a fierce old Dutch army officer named Jacob Van Braam. Together they studied maps and fought out battles with pins and bits of wood until far into the night. George was also busied with the care of the Washington estate at Mount Vernon, which was left to him on the death of his half brother, Lawrence Washington in 1752. Mount Vernon carried with it about five hundred slaves and dependents, and the young man had his time fully occupied in riding over its broad acres and managing its affairs.
When George was twenty-one years old a difficult task was assigned to him that not only proved that he had really entered the estate of manhood, but also that he was trusted beyond his years. Governor Dinwiddie of Virginia sent him on a dangerous trip into the wilderness to warn off the French from English ground and to gain the friendship of the wild Indians that lived there. The race for land between the French and English settlers was growing keener and more bitter every day, and both countries claimed the land that lay between the Allegheny and the Mississippi rivers. Finally the Governor of Virginia picked young Washington to go to Venango and warn the French that they were trespassing,—and also to make ceremonial visits to the Indians to ensure their friendship to the English in case of war with the French.
To succeed would require shrewdness, good sense, courage and physical strength—for a long journey through virgin forests would have to be made and many dangers encountered. Washington took with him a guide and pioneer named Christopher Gist, and Jacob Van Braam went also to act as interpreter.
The journey over six hundred miles of desolate wilderness, across swollen streams, through forest, swamp and over rugged mountain, was performed so speedily that it would be hard for strong men to duplicate it to-day, traveling over good roads. Washington sat beside the council fires of the Indians, and delivered the Governor's message to the French. He also noted the best points for fortifications against the encroaching French, and reported them on his return. The journey had been a complete success and since others had tried it and failed, Washington's fame was established throughout Virginia.
The French had received him with sly courtesy and sought to ply his company with wine and brandy rather than to come to any agreement with him. It was plain that they meant mischief, and Governor Dinwiddie decided to send a force of soldiers to build a fort at the juncture between the Allegheny and the Monongahela rivers, one of the places that Washington had noted down for its good strategic qualities. Colonel Joshua Fry was placed in command of about three hundred troops, and Washington was sent with him as his lieutenant.
On the march Colonel Fry died, and Washington was left in sole command of the troops. Spies and Indian scouts in the employ of the French had reported the expedition and the French had promptly marched against the Virginian soldiers with greatly superior numbers. Washington got news of this act on their part, and hastily threw up fortifications on a plain called Great Meadows. He called this stronghold Fort Necessity. The French soon came up and surrounded the fort, and the bark of the rifles reechoed through the woods and from the hills.
Washington and his men fought with the utmost bravery, but when he saw that the struggle was hopeless and that they would all be killed or captured if the fight continued, he made terms with the French, allowing his men to retire with all their arms and equipment, on condition that they did not make any further attempt to occupy the country for a stipulated time. The French success was not the fault of Washington who displayed great coolness and secured the maximum advantage for himself and his men. He was warmly commended by the Governor for his action in this fight and had a higher reputation than ever among all who knew the circumstances.
Soon after this Washington engaged in another expedition that was far more disastrous. The English Government put Major General Edward Braddock in command of a force of English regular soldiers to gain control of the disputed Ohio Valley, and Washington was appointed as aide on General Braddock's staff.
Braddock in his way was a good soldier, a hard bitten, dyed in the wool, regular army officer with a great contempt for the Virginia militia, and an over confident belief that the British soldier was invincible. He believed absolutely that the methods of war that were used on European battlefields would overwhelm anything in America, and he liked to see his redcoats with their boots polished and their buttons furbished, marching in solid platoon formation, turning and wheeling with the mathematical regularity of a machine. His men were drilled and disciplined until they were automatons, for Braddock was a martinet. Their ranks ran true, their equipment was in the pink of soldierly condition; the sunlight glittered from their bayonets, you could see your face in their leather accouterments, and Braddock proudly marched them into the American woods as though they were parading on the Strand in London. When Washington warned him of the dangers of ambush, urging that an advance guard and scouts be thrown out, Braddock turned scornfully away, believing that a volley or two from his brave regulars would soon drive off any foes that might fall upon him, and he said bluntly that when he desired advice from his subordinates he would ask for it.
As his men were marching in close formation, their red coats blazing against the dark green of the forest, shifting figures were seen in the trees ahead, a French officer suddenly appeared cheering them on to the attack, and with shouts and yells an unseen enemy shot down the Britishers from the protection of fallen trees, from behind rocks and stumps, and from the concealment of forest branches.
The redcoats fell by scores and were thrown into hopeless confusion. They were not used to fighting a hidden foe, and were appalled by the death in their midst as well as by the wild cries and war whoops that echoed from the forest. Braddock, waving his sword, ordered his platoons to wheel and advance in solid formation into the woods—and the platoons were wiped out like sheep in a slaughter pit as they tried to obey the hopeless order. But the despised Virginia militia, experienced in Indian fighting, spread out in open order at the head of the column and kept the enemy in check, while Braddock with hopeless bravery attempted to rally his men. It was in vain. The dismal cries and yells continued. The bullets sang overhead like a swarm of wasps, British officers dropped at the shots of invisible sharpshooters, who picked them off easily on account of their conspicuous uniforms. Braddock himself, as brave a man as ever lived, had four horses killed under him and then received a mortal wound. Washington, whose advice had been laughed at, took command of the Virginians and covered the headlong rout of the British regulars, who threw away their rifles and ran blindly into the woods. How Washington escaped alive is nothing less than a miracle. Like Braddock, he had several horses killed under him, and four bullets pierced his uniform. He seemed everywhere at once and showed the most conspicuous bravery, but all he could do was to save the lives of the flying Britishers. With whoops of victory the Indians scalped the wounded, dressed themselves in the red coats of the slain and showed their hideous painted faces beneath the cocked hats of British officers. And the French, who held the fort that Braddock had intended to capture, fired their cannon in rejoicing at a victory that forever killed the prestige of British arms in the New World. For hitherto the British soldier had been thought invincible, and this exhibition of crass stupidity and bungling gave the colonials a different opinion of British arms. The British were brave it is true, but they could not adjust themselves to meet the enemy on their own ground,—and in all history the Briton has shown himself clumsy in the guerilla warfare of the type that won the Revolution for the Americans.
A few years after this tragic affair Washington married Martha Parke Custis, a young widow with two children. Washington's love affair with Martha Custis was not the first in his life. He had paid attention to other young beauties and had shown himself a true Virginian in his hearty appreciation of the ladies.
With his marriage there commenced the home life at Mount Vernon that has become so famous in history, and the hospitality for which George and Martha Washington have ever been famous. Washington was fond of the good things of life, and his great house at Mount Vernon was filled with visitors, with whom he hunted and passed his leisure hours in many delightful ways. But his eye for business was no less keen on account of his pleasures, and eventually he came to be looked on as the leading man in the affairs of the colony. His commanding appearance, his wonderful self-control and his military prestige, coupled with the dignity and gravity of his manner, made him as prominent among men as he had been among boys.
The attitude toward "provincials" that brought about Braddock's fatal error because he could not listen to advice, was destined now to bring to England the loss of her valuable colonies in America. The English looked down on the Americans and patronized them because they did not understand them. They regarded the American Colonies too much in the light of a supply house to enrich the Crown and the Mother Country, and too little as the home of a brave and self-reliant people who came of the most sterling English stock themselves. The colonists bitterly resented the unjust laws that compelled them to ship their produce to British ports and to engage in no form of industry that might cripple British enterprise. And when the British Government imposed taxes on the colonists that were not imposed on British subjects in England, indignation rose to white heat, and riots and hot speeches broke out everywhere, particularly in New England.
The "stamp act," which compelled the colonists to transact all their legal business on paper bearing the stamp of the British Government, and sold only by British agents, awoke the wrath of Virginia as well as of New England. The cry of "no taxation without representation" rang from Georgia to Massachusetts. The oratory of Patrick Henry added fuel to the righteous indignation in every American's breast, and when the British in response to public feeling removed all unwarranted taxes except one—the tax on tea, a party of young men dressed as Indians sacked the cargo of a British vessel in Boston, and poured the chests of tea into the harbor.
Parliament retaliated. Penalties were imposed on Massachusetts. The Virginian House of Burgesses was forbidden to meet by the King's order, and meeting in spite of this order it called for a General Congress of all the Colonies to decide what measures were to be taken to defend the rights of the American provinces.
Washington, as one of Virginia's leading men, naturally was among those who represented the colony at this congress, which met in Carpenter's Hall in Philadelphia. He was listened to with respect and attention, and was considered to have the sanest viewpoint and the widest fund of information of any delegate there. The question of armed revolt against England was still in the background, but Washington was in favor of a resort to arms only after all other measures had failed and as a last resort. He was ready and willing to fight if fighting must come, however, and we have his statement when he heard of how the people of Boston were laboring under unjust British measures, "I will raise a thousand men," said Washington, "subsist them at my own expense and march with them, at their head, for the relief of Boston."
At last it was seen that no other way to escape slavery existed than to fight. And Washington was one of the first to devote his life and fortune to the Revolutionary cause.
When the American Congress met on June 15, 1775, Washington was chosen as Commander in Chief of the new continental army. The flame of revolution had run through the colonies. The British had killed and been killed by militiamen at Lexington, and had fallen back before the hail of lead from the squirrel rifles of angry farmers at the bridge at Concord. From stonewalls, fences, trees and haylofts, the Americans had picked off the British redcoats as they retreated back to Boston, and had proved themselves to be foemen that could not be despised. The battles of Bunker Hill and Dorchester Heights followed. Bloody war was begun.
No better man for command of the American army could possibly have been chosen than Washington, and very probably no other could have brought the revolution to a successful end. His firm and great nature were known to all, and with this he possessed great military skill and a thorough knowledge of the country where he would have to fight.
But his heart may well have sunk when he took command, for no worse scene of confusion and inefficiency can be imagined than that of the American army when it was first mustered together. Washington, on July 3rd, 1775, took command at Cambridge, Massachusetts, of about sixteen thousand raw recruits, badly fed, badly quartered, with no uniforms to speak of, little equipment and a rebellious disregard of all discipline that was increased by the fact that they were fighting against the unjust discipline of the British Government. The American forces had no organization, and the work fell upon Washington, as Commander in Chief, not only of fighting an enemy far superior in numbers and composed of well-disciplined and well-equipped veterans, but of organizing his own army almost in the course of battle, and manufacturing the material for victory after the gage had been cast and the conflict entered.
But the resolute will and the firm hand brought order out of chaos, and the British were astonished to see the effectiveness of the rough and ready troops that opposed them. The city of Boston was besieged so firmly that the British at last decided to evacuate the town, sailing away in their warships, headed for New York. Washington by forced marches attempted to reach that city first and foil their attempt to land there, but the American army was not large enough for this design, and American and British forces faced each other on Long Island where a battle was fought near the present site of Brooklyn on August 27th, 1776. The country was now prepared for a grim struggle and the temper of the revolutionists was shown by the glorious Declaration of Independence which was made on July 4th of that year.
But spirit and determination are not proof against cold steel and solid ranks of veteran soldiers, and Washington's little army was beaten by the British in the Battle of Long Island, sustaining heavy losses in dead and wounded. The Americans retreated and then halted and when night fell only a short distance separated the two armies. The situation of the Americans was critical in the extreme, and it was absolutely necessary to cross the East River before the sadly harried and beaten ranks of the patriot army were attacked again by the victorious Britishers. Almost within the sound of the voices of the enemy Washington succeeded in drawing away his army and carrying them in boats to New York City, without a single foe suspecting his design.
The British followed and there was fighting on Manhattan Island. Slowly the little force of patriots was driven back, now sadly decreased in numbers, for the ending of enlistments as well as defeat were playing havoc with Washington's forces. In November he was obliged to cross the Hudson River and retreat into New Jersey with only six thousand men left to him, and still later with a force still smaller and the British close on his heels, he crossed the Delaware River and sought refuge in Pennsylvania. By this time the British had gained such successes and the Americans had undergone so many reverses and privations that it seemed as if no power on earth could bring victory to the American arms.
The British found they could not cross into Pennsylvania, for Washington had taken care to remove all the boats to the other side of the Delaware River. They temporarily gave over the pursuit of the Americans, whom they thought were hopelessly beaten, and went into winter quarters, where they enjoyed themselves immensely and kept an easy and a comfortable camp.
But Washington was already planning a raid against the German mercenaries called Hessians who were stationed in the town of Trenton. He planned to return across the Delaware and fall upon the Hessians by night in a surprise attack. He tried to secure the cooperation of General Gates, one of his subordinates, but Gates feigned sickness and went to Philadelphia to attempt Washington's overthrow on the day before Washington's attack was to be launched. Disaffection among his generals was now added to Washington's other troubles, and Gates, in jealousy, was planning to go before Congress and secure an independent command for himself.
On Christmas night, 1776, the little American army embarked on its perilous venture, and prepared to cross the Delaware River which was now so full of floating ice as to make the passage of boats dangerous in the extreme. It was black as pitch and a high wind blew, as the American soldiers with aching backs toiled at the oars and the poles and so cold that men froze to death. Hours were consumed in the passage, and by the time the Americans were in position to attack, day was breaking.
Nevertheless the project seemed likely to succeed. The Hessians were off their guard and were sleeping soundly. Scattered shots rang out and were succeeded by the rattle of musketry as the Americans, yelling like Indians charged upon the silent town. The Hessian bugles blew "to arms" and the dazed soldiers rushed out of their billets, but instead of rallying and fighting Washington they fled toward Princeton, leaving more than a thousand prisoners in Washington's hands, as well as large numbers of killed and wounded.
Lord Cornwallis was hurriedly sent to oppose Washington, and went to bed at Trenton within sight of the American camp fires. The British general was confident of success and boasted that he would certainly "bag the fox in the morning." That night, however, Washington silently withdrew his army as he had done on Long Island and in a series of brilliant maneuvers defeated the British again not far from Princeton. His skill and generalship were so great that with a half starved and discouraged remnant of a defeated army he twice defeated the flower of the British force, and brought new hope and strength to the struggling colonies. He had done more than this, for his military success was now closely watched in Europe. And Cornwallis was soon so hard pressed that he withdrew his troops to New York and in the end the Americans once more had complete control of the state of New Jersey.
In the year 1778, and largely due to the great qualities of Benjamin Franklin, who was one of America's commissioners in France, a treaty was signed with the French providing that if France went to war with England, there should be an alliance between the French and American Governments, and neither should cease fighting without the permission of the other—moreover that both were to continue the struggle until the independence of the United States of America was gained.
This treaty was not only due to Washington's successes but to a victory won by General Gates against General Burgoyne, who, after the battle of Saratoga, was forced to withdraw his army from the conflict and place himself and his officers on parole to bear arms no more against America. But there followed a renewal of the bitterness of defeat, for the Americans were beaten at Brandywine, the British took Philadelphia, and another reverse befell the American arms at Germantown. It seemed that in spite of the former American successes and the French treaty, the British would be victorious after all, for the winter had been a terrible one, and the worn American army was almost destitute of food and clothing.
Washington had camped at a place called Valley Forge which has since become symbolic of hardship and suffering. It is said that detachments of American soldiers could be traced by the blood in the snow from their wounded and bare feet, for there were no shoes to clothe them with and there was very little food or fuel. And in addition to the physical hardship and the gloom of failure, Washington had to contend with a conspiracy that was directed against him by some of his most trusted officers, who desired to place General Gates in supreme command of the American Army. This conspiracy was called the Conway Cabal, because the chief plotter was an Irishman named General Thomas Conway. But the result of this base attempt was added power and glory for Washington, for Congress was fortunately unaffected by the representations that were made.
In the following year, 1778, in spite of that terrible winter, the fighting opened with the Americans in better condition than previously and with their numbers strengthened with new recruits that Congress had secured for them. The American cause had also been strengthened by the voluntary services of a number of foreign officers, who energetically drilled the American recruits and taught the revolutionary army the science of war as it was fought by the greatest military countries. Among these men was the Marquis de Lafayette, a gallant young French nobleman, and also Baron de Kalb and Von Steuben.
Washington gradually drew nearer to New York, from which he had been driven so soon after the Battle of Long Island, and that winter he camped in the highlands of the Hudson and established his troops so as to defend New England from any offensive campaign the British might make, and for a year he contented himself with playing a waiting game, keeping a firm grip on the Hudson Highlands and strengthening his army as greatly as possible.
Victory now was near, for the French came actively into the war to the succor of the Americans. The French King, Louis the Sixteenth, sent Count Rochambeau to command an expedition in America, and the year 1781 saw the trained and seasoned soldiers of France fighting side by side with the American troops. In this year too a great advantage was given to Washington's troops by the fact that a large French fleet under the Count de Grasse compelled the British vessels to keep to the ports, while Washington with the French laid siege to Yorktown, which was held by Lord Cornwallis. Washington himself fired the first cannon as the siege began, and a whirlwind of iron and red hot shot was poured upon the British works and shipping from French and American guns. The British resisted stubbornly, but they were cut off and their position was hopeless. And on October Nineteenth, with the American and French troops drawn up to receive them, the British marched out and surrendered.
This was really the end of the war. The news that Cornwallis and at least sixteen thousand men had been captured was received with wild rejoicing all through the former colonies, and with amazement and gloom in England, where it was plainly seen that the valuable colonies were lost forever. In the month of November, 1783, the British left New York never to return, after the signing of the peace treaty at Paris in January of the same year. The war was over, the patriots had conquered, and a new and mighty nation was in its infancy.
At this time it would without doubt have been easy for Washington to make himself the head of the new country, and even to have become its King and permanent ruler. The army worshipped the ground he walked on, and he actually received a letter from one of his officers in which it was suggested that he be named as King of the new state. But Washington with his characteristic greatness refused to advance his own fortunes at the expense of the liberty of his countrymen, and he wrote an angry letter indignantly rejecting any such title or position, declaring that nothing in his long and trying service had justified his fellows in regarding him as an ambitious self-seeker.
His work was done, or so he considered it, and he proposed to return to private life. And in Fraunces' Tavern in New York the great commander bade farewell to the officers who had so gallantly served him and had been his brothers in arms on so many hard fought fields.
It is said that on this occasion Washington's customary self-control almost deserted him, as he spoke his words of parting to his fellow officers. "With a heart full of love and gratitude," said he, "I now take leave of you, most devoutly wishing that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and honorable. I cannot come to each of you to take my leave," he continued, "but shall be obliged if each of you will come and take me by the hand."
But Washington's work was not over. He had counseled all the Governors of the separate States to form a Federal Government as quickly as possible, and while he had resigned as head of the army, he continued, as a private citizen, to watch public matters with the utmost care and attention. In 1787 Washington presided over the famous convention which met in Philadelphia to draft the Constitution of the United States, and largely in accordance with his ideas, which strongly influenced the minds of all those present, the Government of the United States was formed. The perfection of the form of government, as entered into by so many separate and widely different States, seemed to Washington, as he afterward said in a letter to Lafayette, "little short of a miracle."
It remained for the new country to choose its first President. Washington was elected without a dissenting voice, and took the reins of government into his hands on April 30, 1789. He did not desire the Presidency, and would have greatly preferred to remain quietly at Mount Vernon, "an honest man on his own farm," engaged in his private affairs. But he felt that it was his duty to answer so spontaneous and general a call from his fellow citizens, and in the office of chief executive he showed the same firm and wise spirit that had distinguished him as commander of the army. His Cabinet contained the most famous and brilliant men of the day, and the people throughout the country felt themselves safe with such a president at the helm.
When his administration ended he was called upon to take a second term, and in this he had great difficulty in keeping the new republic out of the turmoil of European politics. France had by this time thrown off her rulers, organized a revolution and gone to war with England; and Washington was called on from every part of the country to go to the aid of his former ally against the former foe. He saw, however, that war at that time would be fatal for America, and might well result in the loss of all that had been gained in the bitter years of the Revolution. He firmly refused to enter the war although his decision cost him much of his popularity. A commercial treaty was then entered upon with England.
While Washington was President, the states of Kentucky and Tennessee were added to the original thirteen that formed the Union, and many important financial and legal matters were concluded. With a sure hand the great patriot guided the new country through the dangers that beset it and at times threatened to swallow it whole, and in the year 1797 he turned over to John Adams who was to succeed him in the presidential chair a welded nation, destined for a mighty future.
For the next three years Washington's life at Mount Vernon was quiet and happy, and he busied himself in the affairs of his estate and in the dignified hospitality for which he and Martha Washington were so justly renowned. On December 12, 1799, after a horseback ride through the snow, he became ill with laryngitis and two days later he breathed his last.
Throughout the United States he was mourned as a father,—indeed he had already gained the title of "the father of his country." And it was by the father of a famous general who was destined to lead the southern cause in the Civil War some sixty years later that Washington was said to be "first in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen," a phrase that has since become familiar to hundreds of millions of people throughout the world, and has so aptly described America's mightiest son.
CHAPTER XIX
JOHN PAUL JONES
For those of you who have had opportunity to see the mighty fleet of steel battleships and destroyers that compose the navy of the United States, it is hard to remember that this fleet was born in the shape of a few wooden sailing ships. And it is almost equally hard to believe that Paul Jones, who commanded one of the first American war vessels, and became the greatest naval hero that this country has ever known, was the son of a poor, Scotch gardener, who worked for a country squire in Kirkcudbrightshire, Scotland.
In 1747 Paul Jones was born, but his name was then John Paul. His uncle, like his father, was a gardener, and worked on the estate of the Earl of Selkirk on St. Mary's Isle, where John Paul used to visit him and go fishing in small boats that he obtained from a little seaport near at hand. Many sailors came to this port, and they made friends with the alert boy who was always asking them questions about ships and seamanship; and the result of their friendship was that at a very early age John Paul was a handy sailor and determined to follow a seafaring life.
Whether or no he ran away from school is not known. At any rate, when he was only twelve years old, he became the apprentice of a merchant who did a considerable trade with Virginia, and he actually sailed for that colony, where his brother had preceded him and was living the life of a Southern planter. John Paul stayed with his brother at Fredericksburg for a time, but when he was nineteen years old he sailed for Jamaica as first mate of a vessel engaged in the slave trade, which was then very active,—for a great deal of money was to be gained from selling the African negroes to Southern planters, and slaves were constantly being taken from their native country and carried to America to work beneath the lash.
But this clean-cut young sailor did not like the slave trade, and after two years, disgusted with the sordid traffic, he left his vessel in Jamaica and became a passenger on a brigantine that was sailing for Scotland, in fact, for his home town. On his way home, by a strange chance, both the captain and mate died, and as an expert navigator was needed, John Paul guided the ship into port. When this fact was made known to her owners they paid their debt by taking him into their employ, and on the next voyage to Jamaica the ship sailed under John Paul's command.
Then there occurred to the young Scotch sailing master a series of misfortunes that changed the course of his career and was indirectly responsible for his casting his lot with the future republic of the United States. To maintain discipline aboard his vessel it became necessary for him to have the ship's carpenter flogged. Many weeks later this man died, and his friends unjustly attributed his death to the flogging he had received, and laid it to the captain's door. John Paul was able to prove that he was not to blame in the affair, but in the meantime he had quitted his vessel and found it hard to get another one. As soon as he finally obtained a new vessel, a mutiny took place when his ship was in the West Indies, and John Paul, in his efforts to quell the mutineers, was assaulted and obliged to kill one of them with his sword in defending himself. Fearing, perhaps, that this second mishap on the heels of the first might make things go hard with him when he was brought to trial, he fled from the West Indies and for a time disappeared completely.
He was next heard from in the American Colonies, bearing the name of John Paul Jones. When the American Revolution took place, he hastened to offer his services to the Government of the United States, and the Naval Committee of Congress called on him for information and advice. When a few vessels were gathered together and a list of naval officers prepared, Paul Jones obtained his commission as Senior Lieutenant on the flagship of the tiny fleet, which was namedAlfred. And when the commander in chief came over the side, Paul Jones with his own hands hoisted the American flag for the first time over an American man of war. The flag was very different from the modern stars and stripes; it was of yellow silk, in the center of which was a pine tree with a rattlesnake coiled at its roots, and the motto: "don't tread on me."
After the Americans made an attack on New Providence where several boats were captured, Paul Jones was promoted to the rank of Captain as a reward for his excellent services and given command of theProvidence, on whose quarter deck he sailed for the West Indies to prey upon British shipping. His knowledge of the waters was so thorough and his skill as a naval officer of such high quality that in forty-seven days he captured no less than sixteen vessels.
Congress was delighted at his exploits. In reward he was given the command of his old ship, theAlfred, and in her he sailed northward along the coast of Nova Scotia until he entered the Gut of Canso. In the neighborhood of this deep strait that runs between Nova Scotia proper and the Island of Cape Breton, Paul Jones captured twelve fishing vessels. Having placed prize crews on his new ships he triumphantly returned to the United States.
His fame now was widely established among the revolting colonies. By order of Congress he was transferred to the sloop,Ranger, with orders to cruise about the coast of England and destroy shipping. Paul Jones planned to do more than this; he intended actually to attack English seaports and burn the shipping in the harbors, feeling convinced that he could inflict greater losses on the enemy in this manner. And as he had enjoyed the honor of raising the American flag for the first time over an American war vessel, he now had the added honor of being the first naval officer to sail under the stars and stripes, which flew for the first time in naval history above theRanger.
After visiting France, where he delivered messages from the American Government to the American Commissioners in Paris, one of whom was Benjamin Franklin, Paul Jones decided to attack the town of Whitehaven, which had been well known to him as a boy. In the depth of night theRangerstole into the entrance of the harbor and dropped anchor. Then two boats put off from her with muffled oars, Paul Jones in command of one and his lieutenant, whose name was Wallingford, in charge of the other.
Jones ordered Wallingford to set fire to the shipping on the north side of the town, while he himself with his men should advance upon the nearby fort and spike the guns. As the fort was an old one and had a small garrison, the intrepid commander had but little trouble in capturing it, particularly as none of the British dreamed of a raid and small wonder, for their shores had been safe from the invader since the time of William the Conqueror.
The garrison was completely surprised and gave in without a struggle. Jones and his followers quickly spiked the guns of the fort and taking their prisoners with them hastened back to the boats. When they arrived a great disappointment confronted them, for Lieutenant Wallingford had failed to fire the shipping as ordered. He gave the excuse that the lanterns that had been brought with them for the purpose had been blown out by the wind, but he had made no attempt to secure firebrands from any other quarter. So Jones himself with some of his followers took live coals from a nearby house and with the aid of a tar barrel succeeded in setting fire to one of the ships that was tied to the wharf.
By this time it was early morning. Ordering his little band back into their boats, Jones himself with drawn pistol stood off the curious and frightened throng of people that had gathered around him. When the flames arose to such an extent that it had become impossible to save the ill-fated ship, and not till then, did the plucky commander seek refuge. As he rowed away with his men the British rushed to the forts to seek vengeance, where they found that the guns were spiked, and by the time they had unearthed one or two old cannon the Americans were well out of harm's way.
All England rang with the story, and the rage and consternation of the British people is hard to describe. After having held themselves safe from invasion for hundreds of years and boasting proudly that they governed every sea, they liked it but ill that their peace should be disturbed by a nation which was considered by them to be no more than an insignificant group of revolting farmers. And the moral effect of the bold raid by Jones exceeded by far any material advantage that he gained.
While England was still buzzing like a hornet's nest as a result of this exploit, Jones performed another deed that was even bolder than the attack on Whitehaven. This was no less than a raid on the estate of the Earl of Selkirk, where his uncle had worked as a gardener, and where Jones himself had spent a part of his boyhood. His purpose was to carry off the Earl as a prisoner of war, and, holding him as a hostage, to effect the exchange of certain American prisoners who were being cruelly treated in British prisons. But ill luck still pursued him. Upon arriving at the Earl's estate he found that Selkirk himself was away from home and that his mission was fruitless. On the insistence of his men he took the silver plate that belonged to the Earl, but touched nothing else on the estate. When the plate came up for sale and the sailors were to receive their share of the prize money Jones bought the plate himself and returned it to the Earl with a courteous letter, explaining that only the exigencies of war and similar conduct of the British on American territory had compelled him to take such a course.
With the captured plate safe in his vessel, Paul Jones then attacked the twenty-gun British sloop of war,Drake, and after a severe combat succeeded in making her his prize. With the British cruisers in search of him everywhere he took the captured vessel into the French harbor of Brest, where he underwent heartbreaking delays in obtaining money to pay his men. Then theRangerwas taken from him, as the French Government and the American Commissioners in Paris desired him to be placed in command of a French vessel.
At last Paul Jones was given charge of an old merchantman namedDuraswhose name he was allowed to change to suit his own pleasure. In deference to Benjamin Franklin who had always been his close friend Jones called his new craft theBonhomme Richard, in honor of Benjamin Franklin's famous nickname of "Poor Richard." TheBonhomme Richardwas refitted and made to approach a ship of war as closely as possible, and in August, 1779, Jones sailed in her on what was destined to be his most famous cruise.
The French had placed some other ships at his disposal to the extent that they were to accompany theBonhomme Richard, but were independent of her command, being under French naval officers. This peculiar state of affairs greatly reduced the efficiency of the little squadron, whose vessels were thePallas, theVengeance, theCerfand theAlliance.
The crew of theBonhomme Richard, which was the only American vessel of the little fleet,—and the only one that accomplished any signal success—was composed of such a motley assortment of the offscourings of the dockyards that even Jones' stout heart sank when he saw his men assembled together. Among the men that were supposed to be sailors were many French peasants who had never even seen a vessel and English prisoners that he had to keep in order by the armed force of his more loyal men. The fact that he was able to mold this variegated mass of undisciplined humanity into a staunch crew capable of winning one of the most famous naval battles of history is a proof of his genius for leadership.
The lack of unity in command soon began to show the inevitable ill results. TheCerfbecame separated from the squadron and returned to France. TheAlliance, under the infamous Captain Landais, who had been dishonorably discharged from the French navy, refused to cooperate with Jones and soon disappeared on some unknown errand.
As the remaining three vessels were cruising near Flamborough Head, they sighted a large convoy of British merchant vessels which were guarded by two warships—theSerapis, a frigate with nearly twice the number of guns as theBonhomme Richard, and theCountess of Scarboroughwhich was also a large war vessel. They sighted the convoy well on in the afternoon and closed with it at about sunset. People on shore who had recognized the fact that Jones' ships were a hostile squadron crowded the heights to see the sea fight which they knew was not far off.
As the sun was going down theSerapisapproached theBonhomme Richardand hailed her with the cry, "What ship is that?"
"I don't hear you," answered Jones, who was maneuvering his vessel so as to rake the decks of his opponent with his opening broadside, and when theSerapishailed again theBonhomme Richardopened fire with all the guns she could bring to bear upon her.
It was a severe blow, but theSerapiswas not slow in responding. And almost at the first broadside from the English the American ship was severely crippled. Two of the old cannon of theBonhomme Richardhad exploded at the first shot, killing and wounding many and tearing a large hole in the hull of the ship. But although he was in a serious predicament Jones continued to fight with vigor. Broadside after broadside was poured in and both vessels sailed slowly abreast of each other enveloped in a cloud of dense white smoke that hid the scene from the wondering folk on shore.
The best chance for the weaker vessel was to close with its opponent and Jones maneuvered until he had an opportunity to make theBonhomme Richardfast to theSerapis. The jibboom of the Britisher had swung over the deck of theRichardand Jones with his own hands made it fast to the mizzenmast of his ship. The two ships were now locked in a death grip, and so close that when the guns were loaded the cannoneers had to lean into the ports of the enemy vessel to drive the ramrods home.
The big British frigate had the advantage. With heavier batteries than the American ship she was able to silence Jones' guns one after one. Several attempts were made by Jones to board his enemy but without success. He was a beaten man. As his batteries were put out of commission, the men came to the main deck and manned the remaining guns, or formed boarding parties there. From the tops of theBonhomme Richarda continuous and accurate fire was poured on the decks of theSerapisand many a British sailor lost his life as a result of the accuracy of the French sharpshooters who were engaged there.
By this time the desperate conditions below decks on theBonhomme Richardwere almost indescribable. Water was pouring into the hold. Great breaches were made in the hull and the ship was several times set on fire. But Jones fought on. One of his petty officers, thinking him dead, raised a cry for quarter, which was heard on the British ship.
"Have you surrendered?" called Captain Pearson, the British commander.
Jones had knocked down the quartermaster with the butt of his pistol and climbed into the rigging of his ship so the British and his own men could hear his answer more clearly:
"I have not yet begun to fight," he shouted, and a cheer broke out on the deck of the American.