Rope to Hang Musgrove 138
The words of Jennings and the sight of the rope made the people furious. Musgrove had been given a hint by Jennings's neighbor, and he had made good his escape. But for that, no human power could have saved him.
The whole State was in a condition of excitement that is hard to describe. Grand juries made presentments, county and town meetings passed resolutions, and petitions were sent from hand to hand, and signed by hundreds of people. A State convention, called to alter the constitution, had been chosen to meet in May, 1795, but the members had been chosen at the same time that the members of the corrupt Legislature had been elected; and a majority of them had been "tarred with the same stick," as the saying goes. The presentments, resolutions, and petitions crowded so fast upon the convention, that it was decided to postpone the changing of the constitution to a time when the people were in a better humor. The convention referred all the papers it had received to the next Legislature, and adjourned in some confusion.
This added to the excitement and anger of the people. They were in doubt how to act. Delay would give the land grabbers time to sell the lands they had secured through bribery and corruption. But whom could the people trust? They had been betrayed by many of their highest judges, by one of their United States senators, and by a large majority of their Legislature. A great many believed that all the powers of government had come to an end.
During the troubled times of the Revolution it had been the custom of military officers having the confidence of the people to convene the Legislative Assembly when an emergency seemed to call for it. In the midst of their doubt and confusion, the people applied to General Twiggs, the senior major general, to convene the Legislature in order that action might be taken before the swindlers sold the lands they had obtained by fraud; but General Twiggs refused to act in a case in which he had no clear right and power, so the people remained for the time being without a remedy.
From the very beginning of this scheme to defraud the people of the State, it had been bitterly opposed by General James Jackson, who was representing Georgia in the United States Senate. He denounced it in the Senate. He corresponded with the most eminent men in the State, he wrote to the newspapers, and in every possible way held up to the scorn and contempt of the public the men who were trying to defraud the State of its rich Western lands. On the other hand, the conspirators left nothing undone to injure the reputation of General Jackson. His character was attacked, and his life was several times threatened. As early as the spring of 1795, he took occasion in full Senate, and in the presence of General James Gunn (the Georgia senator who was representing the swindlers), to denounce the scheme as "a speculation of the darkest character and of deliberate villany."
By his bold, even violent opposition to the Yazoo sale, General Jackson had made himself the leader of the people. Therefore in 1795, while he was still senator, many of the people requested him to resign, so that he might use his influence and great talents in bringing about the repeal of the obnoxious law. He tendered his resignation at once, and returned home. He was elected a member of the Legislature, and devoted all his time and all his energy to blotting out the odious law. He became a member of the committee appointed to investigate the means used to pass the law, and under his leadership the whole scandalous affair was probed to the bottom.
In electing the new Legislature, the only issue was Yazoo and anti-Yazoo. The people were successful in electing men who favored the repeal of the law. There was no other business before the General Assembly until this matter was disposed of. The body was flooded with the petitions and remonstrances that had been sent to the convention. The Legislature had met in January, 1795. At once a day was set to "consider the state of the Republic." On that day the petitions and presentments were considered, and referred to a committee, of which General Jackson was appointed chairman. On the 22d of January the committee reported not only that the act was unconstitutional, but that fraud had been practiced to secure its passage. On these grounds they declared that the act was a nullity, and not binding on the people of the State.
The bill declaring the sale void was drawn up by General Jackson. It passed both Houses by large majorities, and was signed by Governor Irwin. The feeling of the Legislature was so strong, that, after the Yazoo act had been repealed, it was decided to destroy all the records and documents relating to the corruption. By order of the two Houses a fire was kindled in the public square of Louisville, which was then the capital. The enrolled act that had been secured by fraud was brought out by the secretary of state, and by him delivered to the President of the Senate for examination. That officer delivered the act to the Speaker of the House. The Speaker in turn passed it to the clerk, who read the title of the act and the other records, and then, committing them to the flames, cried out in a loud voice, "God save the State and preserve her rights, and may every attempt to injure them perish as these wicked and corrupt acts now do!"
The flames in which the records were burned were kindled by means of a sun glass, so that it might be truly said that fire came down from heaven to destroy the evidences of corruption. There is a tradition that when the officers of the State had met to destroy the records, an old man, a stranger to all present, rode through the multitude, and made his way to where the officials stood. Lifting up his voice, he declared, that, feeble as he was, he had come there to see an act of justice performed, but he thought the fire in which the records of corruption were to be destroyed should come from heaven. The people watched him in silence. He drew from his bosom with trembling hands a sun glass, and in this way burned the papers. Then, says tradition, the white-haired old man mounted his horse and rode away, and was never seen again.
George Matthews and John Clarke 143
In giving the history of the Yazoo Fraud, mention has been made of General George Matthews, who was governor at the time, and who was compelled to leave the State because he had been persuaded to sign the bill. General Matthews was one of the most remarkable characters of his time. Governor Gilmer has drawn a very interesting portrait of him. It is not a pleasing picture in some respects, but it gives a very interesting glimpse of a man who in his day was one of the strongest characters in the State.
He was the son of an Irishman named John Matthews, who settled in western Virginia in 1737. George Matthews began to fight the Indians at an age when most boys are at school. In 1761 the Indians attacked and murdered a family not far from his father's home. He heard the guns, and thought that a shooting match was going on. With some companions of his own age, he rode forward to join in the sport; but the youngsters saw the dead bodies of their neighbors lying in the yard where they had been left by the murderous savages, and at once turned their horses' heads and fled. They were not a moment too soon; for the Indians, who had been lying in ambush, rose and fired at the boys. Matthews had a narrow escape; for a bullet cut off the wisp of hair (known as a queue) that hung dangling from the back of his head. The danger that he had passed through, and the sight of his murdered neighbors, roused young Matthews to action. He collected a party of men, put himself at the head of them, followed and overtook the savages, and killed nine of their number.
In the greatest battle that ever took place between the Virginians and the Indians, Matthews commanded a company, and bore a very conspicuous part. The battle took place at the junction of the Ohio River with the Kanawha, on what was called Point Pleasant. The fight began at sunrise, and was kept up all day, with no great success on either side. The Indians held their ground, and refused to give way before the most stubborn attacks of the Virginians. Near sundown, Matthews, with two other captains, made a strategic movement. The three companies were withdrawn from the battle. Out of sight of the enemy, they got into the bed of a creek. Hidden by the banks of the stream, they marched to the rear of the Indians, and from this point made an attack. The movement had been so cleverly carried out, that the savages were taken completely by surprise, and driven across the Ohio.
Early in the Revolutionary War, General Washington, who knew well the value of the training Matthews had received on the frontier, ordered him and the regiment which he commanded to join the main army. He took part in the battle of the Brandywine; and at the battle of Germantown he led his regiment against the British opposing him, drove them back, and pushed on to the center of the town, where he captured a regiment of the enemy. Shortly after this, while engaged in a skirmish, his courage led him too close to the British. He was knocked down, severely wounded by a bayonet thrust, and taken prisoner. He was sent to the British prison ship in New York Harbor. He was there treated with so much cruelty that he appealed to his government for relief. In response to that appeal, Thomas Jefferson, who was then governor of Virginia, wrote him a personal letter, in which he said, "We know that the ardent spirit and hatred of tyranny which brought you into your present situation will enable you to bear up against it with the firmness which has distinguished you as a soldier, and look forward with pleasure to the day when events shall take place against which the wounded spirit of your enemies will find no comfort, even from reflections on the most refined of the cruelties with which they have glutted themselves."
General Matthews was not exchanged until the close of the war. He then joined the Southern army under General Greene, and commanded the Third Virginia Regiment. While in the South, he bought a tract of land on Broad River, known as the Goose Pond. He settled there with his family in 1784. The fame he had won as a soldier made General Matthews at that time the principal man in Georgia. He was elected governor in 1786. When his term expired, he was sent to Congress. In 1794-95 he was again made governor; and it was at this time, that, contrary to all expectations, he was prevailed on to sign the Yazoo Act. No charge of corruption was ever made against him. No thief or swindler was ever bold enough to try to bribe such a high-spirited and fearless man. But excitement in the State ran so high, that General Matthews was ruined so far as his influence was concerned. He left Georgia, and never afterwards made the State his home for any long period.
In 1811 a lot of runaway negroes, ruffians, and lawless men congregated in Florida in such numbers that they were able to get control of affairs. They formed a government of their own, and then petitioned the United States to make Florida one of their territories. President Madison appointed General Matthews the agent of the United States to negotiate with the "constituted authorities" for the annexation of Florida. General Matthews made a treaty with those who were in control of Florida; but Spain protested, and the President finally declared that the treaty had not been made with the "constituted authorities."
General Matthews was not a learned man (he knew nothing of books), and he could not understand the fuss that was made over the term "constituted authorities." He became very angry with the President, said that that officer had a cowardly fear of Spain and Great Britain, and declared that he would go to Washington to "thrash" the President. He actually set out on that errand; but the fatigue and exposure which he had experienced in Florida, and the high state of excitement under which he labored, threw him into a fever while he was on his journey to Washington, and he died in Augusta in March, 1812.
Previous to his Florida appointment, General Matthews had been nominated to be governor of the Territory of Mississippi by President Adams; but the opposition was so great that the President withdrew the nomination. When General Matthews heard of this, he promptly set out for Philadelphia to call the President to account. He rode to Mr. Adams's house, gave a loud knock on the door, and told the servant he wished to see the President. The servant said the President was engaged; but General Matthews bristled with anger at the bare thought that any man, even the President, could be engaged in any business more important than talking to George Matthews, late colonel of the Virginia line, and governor of the State of Georgia. Therefore he told the servant to go at once and tell the President that a gentleman wished to speak to him; and he added, that, if the message was not carried at once, the servant would find his head taken from his shoulders. General Matthews wore his Revolutionary sword and cocked hat, and he succeeded in convincing the servant that he was not to be trifled with. He was promptly admitted into the presence of Mr. Adams, and, with the touch of Irish brogue he had caught from his father, he made himself and his business known. He introduced himself, and then said to the President,—
"Now, sir, I understand that you nominated me to the Senate of these United States, to be governor of the Territory of Mississippi, and that afterwards you took back the nomination. Sir, if you had known me, you would not have taken the nomination back. If you did not know me, you should not have nominated me to so important an office. Now, sir, unless you can satisfy me, your station as President of these United States shall not screen you from my vengeance."
Mr. Adams at once made himself agreeable, for he had nothing but good will for the stanch Georgia Federalist. The outcome of the meeting was that the President promised to appoint the general's son John to be supervisor of the revenue, and this promise he carried out.
Governor Gilmer, in his racy reminiscences of the people who settled in the Broad River region, draws an interesting portrait of General Matthews. He describes him as a short, thick man, with stout legs, on which he stood very straight. "He carried his head rather thrown back. His features were full and bluff, his hair light red, and his complexion fair and florid. He admitted no superior but General Washington. He spoke of his services to his country as unsurpassed except by those of his great chief. He wore a three-cornered cocked hat, top boots, a shirt full ruffled at the bosom and wrists, and sometimes a long sword at his side. To listen to his talk about himself, his children, and his affairs, one would have thought that he was but a puff of wind. Trade or talk of history with him, and he was found to be one of the shrewdest of men. Fight with him, and he never failed to act the hero. He was unlearned. He spelled 'coffee' k-a-u-g-h-p-h-y. He wrote 'Congress' with a K."
When it is considered that he had small opportunity to train himself in any direction except rough fighting, General Matthews must be regarded as one of the most remarkable men of his time.
Another remarkable man who figured largely in both the military and political history of the State was General John Clarke, son of the famous Elijah Clarke. John Clarke became a soldier in the Revolutionary War when a mere boy. He had followed his father to camp, and remained with him. He took part in many skirmishes; but at the battle of Kettle Creek, in Wilkes County, he distinguished himself by his coolness and courage. He fought through the war. He was made a lieutenant at sixteen years of age, and when the war ended he was a major. After the war he was made a brigadier, and then a major general of the militia. After aiding to run the British out of the State, and subduing the Tories, General Clarke turned his attention to the Indians. At the battle of Jacks Creek, in Walton County, in 1787, he greatly distinguished himself, having charge of one of the wings of the Georgia forces.
It was natural that a man raised in camp, and brought up in the midst of the rough and tough elements that are collected together there, should possess qualities not calculated to fit him for the polite transactions that take place in drawing rooms and parlors. General Clarke's self-reliance was extreme. Having commanded men from the time he was sixteen, it was natural that his temper and his manners should be offensive, to some extent, to those who were not thoughtful enough to make due allowance for these things. It thus happened that when peace came, John Clarke's methods and practices made him many bitter enemies. On the other hand, the sterling qualities of his character made him many strong friends.
Coming out of the war with neither trade nor profession, and with only the rudiments of an education, John Clarke was compelled to turn his attention to politics. With him politics was simply a modified form of war. He had never given any quarter to the Tories, and he gave small quarter to his political enemies. But he was as faithful to his friends in politics as he had been to the cause of American liberty. He was uncompromising, whether dealing with friends or enemies, and his temper was such that he regarded his opponents as his personal enemies. Of his political career, mention will be made in another place. It is sufficient to say that a quarrel he had with a judge divided the people of the State into two parties, and the contest between them was carried on for several years. The prejudices that sprang up in that contest lasted for more than a generation, and strong traces of them are to be found in estimates of General Clarke's character written long after he was dead.
Only a man of the strongest character, and possessing the most remarkable qualities, could have made such a marked impression on the political history of a commonwealth.
After the Revolution 152 (127K)
The Revolution came to an end in Georgia when, on the 11th of July, 1782, Savannah was taken possession of by the American troops under General Anthony Wayne. It ended for the whole country when, on the 30th of November of the same year, the treaty of peace was signed at Paris between the United States and Great Britain. The King of Great Britain acknowledged the independence of the Thirteen States, and declared them free and sovereign. This was a very happy event for the country, and had been long looked forward to by the people, sometimes doubtfully, but always hopefully.
But the great victory that had been won found the people of Georgia prostrate. The little property that they possessed when the war began had either been spent in maintaining the struggle, or well-nigh destroyed by the raids of the British and Tories. In the larger communities of Savannah and Augusta, the citizens had the resources of trade and commerce to fall back on, but in the smaller settlements and rural districts the condition of the inhabitants bordered on destitution.
At the time that Savannah was surrendered to the American troops, there was almost a famine in the land. The soldiers were without shoes, and sometimes they were without supplies. The crops were short on account of the lack of farmers. The condition of the people was quite as bad as that of the troops, especially when the disbanded militia returned to their homes. Houses, barns, and fences had been burned; stock and cattle had been slaughtered or driven away; and there was a great lack of even the necessities of life.
But those whose energy and spirit upheld them through the long struggle for independence were not the men to surrender to the hard circumstances that surrounded them. They went to work as bravely as they had fought; and the sacrifices they made to peace were almost as severe, though not so bloody, as those they had made to war. Slowly, but surely and steadily, they reclaimed their waste farms. Slowly, but surely and steadily, they recovered from the prostration that the war had brought on their industries. Slowly, but surely and steadily, the people worked their way back to comparative prosperity. There may have been a few drones in the towns, but there were no idle hands in the country places.
The men built for their families comfortable log cabins; and these, with their clean sanded floors, are still the fashion in some parts of Georgia. This done, they went about the business of raising crops, and stocking their farms with cattle. The women and children were just as busy. In every cabin could be heard the hum of the spinning wheel, and the thump of the old hand loom. While the men were engaged in their outdoor work, the women spun, wove, and made the comfortable jeans clothes that were the fashion; while the girls plaited straw, and made hats and bonnets, and in many other ways helped the older people. In a little while peddlers from the more northern States began to travel through Georgia with their various wares, some with pewter plates and spoons, and some with clocks. The peddlers traveled in wagons instead of carrying their packs on their backs, and in this way brought a great deal of merchandise to the State.
As was natural, the political development of Georgia was much more rapid than its industrial progress. In January, 1783, Lyman Hall was elected governor. He was distinguished for the patriotic stand he took at the very beginning of the controversy between the Colony and the King. The Legislature met in Savannah after the evacuation of the town by the British; but it was so far from the central and upper portions of the State, and there was so much dissatisfaction among the people on this account, that in May Augusta was made the capital. In that town the General Assembly met July 8, 1783. Measures were at once taken to seize land, and confiscate the property of those Royalists who had lived in Georgia. This property was sold for the benefit of the public. In November of the same year a new cession of land was obtained from the Creek nation by treaty. This was divided into the counties of Franklin and Washington, and the land distributed in bounties to the soldiers of the war.
It is worthy of note that about this time, when the State had hardly begun to recover from the effects of the war, the representatives of the people began to move in the matter of education. The Constitution of 1777 had declared that "schools shall be erected in each county, and supported by the general expense of the State." On the 31st of July, 1783, the Legislature appropriated one thousand acres of land to each county for the support of free schools. In 1784, a short time after the notification of the treaty of peace, the Legislature passed an act appropriating forty thousand acres of land for the endowment of a college or university. A year later the charter for this university was granted; and the preamble of the act declares it to be the policy of the State to foster education in the most liberal way. It so happened that some of the provisions that had been made for public education were not carried out at once, and the people of the various settlements established schools of their own. Many of the best teachers of the country came to Georgia from the more northern States; and some of them won a reputation that has lasted to this day. Later, more than one of these teachers established schools that became famous all over the country. In this way the reign of the "old field schoolmaster" began, and continued for many years.
Early Cultivation of Cotton 156
The people had been cultivating cotton on a small scale before 1791; but the staple was so difficult to handle, that the planting was limited. Those who grew it were compelled to separate the seed from the lint by hand, and this was so tedious that few people would grow it. But in 1793, Eli Whitney, who was living on the plantation of General Greene, near Savannah, invented the cotton gin. The machine was a very awkward and cumbrous affair compared with the gins of the present day; but in that day and time, and for many years after, the Whitney was sufficient for the needs of the people. It was one of the most important inventions that have ever been made. It gave to the commerce of the world a staple commodity that is in universal demand, and it gave to the people of the South their most valuable and important crop. But for this timely invention, the cultivation of cotton would have been confined to the narrowest limits. The gin proved to be practicable, and it came into use very quickly. The farmers prospered, and gradually increased the cotton crop.
The population also increased very rapidly. The rich lands were purchased and settled on by farmers from Virginia and the Carolinas. The colony that had been planted by Oglethorpe had never ventured very far from the seacoast. A few probably followed the course of the Savannah River, and made their homes in that region; but the people brought over by Oglethorpe were not of the stuff that pioneers are made of. The experience they had undergone in the mother country had tamed them to such a degree that they had no desire to brave the future in the wilderness. Adventures of that kind were left for the hardy North Carolinians and Virginians who first settled what was then known as Upper Georgia. After the Revolution, this tide of immigration increased very rapidly, and it was still further swelled by the profits that the Whitney gin enabled the planters of Georgia to make out of their cotton crops.
The settling of Georgia began with the charitable scheme of Oglethorpe. The making of Georgia began when the North Carolinians and Virginians began to open up the Broad River region to the north of Augusta. It was due to the desperate stand taken by these hardy pioneers that Georgia continued the struggle for American independence. To Upper Georgia came some of the best families from Virginia and North Carolina,—the Grattons, the Lewises, the Clarkes, the Strothers, the Crawfords, the Reeses, the Harrises, the Andrewses, the Taliaferros (pronounced Tollivers), the Campbells, the Barnetts, the Toombses, the Doolys, and many other families whose names have figured in the history of the country. Here also settled James Jack, the sturdy patriot who volunteered to carry the Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence to Philadelphia. The Congress then in session chose to shut its eyes to that declaration, but it was the basis and framework of the Declaration afterwards written by Thomas Jefferson.
After the Revolution, when the Cherokees went on the warpath, the Virginia settlement was in a state of great alarm. Men, women, and children met together, and decided that it would be safer to camp in the woods in a body at night rather than run the risk of being burned to death in houses that they could not defend. They went into the depths of the woods and made an encampment. One night while they were around a fire, cooking their supper, suddenly the report of a gun was heard, and then there was a cry of "Indians!" The men seized their guns; but they hardly knew where to turn, or what to do. Suddenly a lad who had not lost his head emptied a bucket of water on the fire. This was the thing to do, but no one else had thought of it. The name of the lad was Meriwether Lewis. He went into the regular army, became the private secretary of President Jefferson, and was selected to head the party that explored the Territory of Louisiana, which had been bought from France. Meriwether Lewis selected for his companion Captain Clark, an old army friend and comrade. Leading the party, Lewis and his friend Clark left St. Louis, and pushed westward to the Pacific coast, through dangers and obstacles that few men would have cared to meet. The famous expedition of Lewis and Clark has now become a part of the history of the country. Lewis took possession of the Pacific coast in the name of the United States. There was a controversy with Great Britain some years afterwards as to the title of Oregon, but that which Lewis and Clark had established was finally acknowledged to be the best.
Meriwether Lewis won a name in history because the opportunity came to him. His name is mentioned here because he was a representative of the men who settled Upper Georgia,—the men who kept the fires of liberty alive in the State, and who, after helping to conquer the British and the Tories, became the conquerors of the wilderness that lay to the west of them. From Wilkes, Burke, Elbert, and the region where Clarke and his men had fought, the tide of emigration slowly moved across the State, settling Greene, Hancock, Baldwin, Putnam, Morgan, Jasper, Butts, Monroe, Coweta, Upson, Pike, Meriwether, Talbot, Harris, and Muscogee counties.
Some of the more adventurous crossed the Chattahoochee into Alabama, and on into the great Mississippi Valley and beyond. Their descendants live in every part of the South; and Alabama, Mississippi, and Texas have had Georgians for their governors, and their senators and representatives in Congress,—men who were descended from the Virginia and North Carolina immigrants. One of the most brilliant of these was Mirabeau B. Lamar, scholar, statesman, and soldier, the president of Texas when that Territory had declared itself a free and an independent republic.
Brief mention has been made of Whitney's invention of the cotton gin. The event was of such world-wide importance that the story should be told here. Whitney, the inventor of the gin, was born in Massachusetts in 1765, in very poor circumstances. While the War of the Revolution was going on, he was earning his living by making nails by hand. He was such an apt mechanic that he was able to make and save enough money to pay his way through Yale College, where he graduated in 1792. In that year he engaged himself to come to Georgia as a private tutor in the family of a gentleman of Savannah; but when he reached that city, he found that the place had been filled.
While in Savannah, Whitney attracted the attention of the widow of General Nathanael Greene, who lived at Mulberry Grove, on the river at no great distance from the city. Mrs. Greene invited the young man to make his home on her plantation. He soon found opportunity to show his fine mechanical genius, and Mrs. Greene became more interested in him than ever.
The story goes, that soon after the young man had established himself on the Mulberry Grove Plantation, several Georgia planters were dining with Mrs. Greene. During their conversation the difficulty of removing the seed from the cotton fiber was mentioned, and the suggestion was made that this might be done by machinery. At this Mrs. Greene mentioned the skill and ingenuity of young Whitney, and advised her guests that he should be given the problem to solve. This advice was followed. The planters had a talk with the young man, and explained to him the difficulty which they found in separating the seed from the lint.
At that time one pound of lint cotton was all that a negro woman could separate from the seed in a day; and the more cotton the planters raised, the deeper they got in debt. The close of the war had found them in a state of the utmost poverty, so that they had been compelled to mortgage their lands in order to get money on which to begin business. Cotton was the only product of the farm for which there was any constant demand; but, owing to the labor of separating the lint from the seed, it could not be raised at a profit. Thus, in 1791, the number of pounds exported from the South to Europe amounted to only about 379 bales of 500 pounds each.
When the planters went to Whitney with their problem, he was entirely ignorant of the whole matter. He knew nothing of cotton or of cotton planting; but he at once set himself at work. He made a careful study of the cotton plant. He shut himself in a room with some uncleaned cotton, and worked at his task during a whole winter. He made his own tools at the plantation blacksmith shop; and all day long, and sometimes far into the night, he could be heard hammering and sawing away.
In 1793 he called together the planters who had asked him to solve the problem, and showed them the machine, which he called a cotton gin. When they saw it work, their surprise and delight knew no bounds. They knew at once that the problem had been solved by the young genius from Massachusetts. Little calculation was needed to show them that the cotton gin could clean as much cotton in a day as could be cleaned on a plantation during a whole winter. What before had been the work of a hundred hands for several months could now be completed in a few days.
Whitney and his Cotton Gin 163
But it seems to be the fate of the majority of those who make wonderful inventions never to enjoy the full benefits of the work of their genius. Eli Whitney was not an exception to the general rule. While he was working on his cotton gin, rumors of it went abroad; and by the time it was completed, public expectation was on tiptoe. When the machine was finished, it was shown to only a few people; but the fact, of such immense importance to the people of the State, was soon known throughout the State, and the planters impatiently waited for the day when they would be able to put it in use.
One night the building in which Whitney's cotton gin was concealed was broken into, ransacked, and the machine carried off. It was a bold robbery, and a very successful one. The inventor made haste to build another gin; but before he could get his model completed, and obtain a patent right to the invention, the machine had been manufactured at various points in the South by other parties, and was in operation on several plantations. Whitney formed a partnership with a gentleman who had some capital, and went to Connecticut to manufacture his gin; but he was compelled to spend all the money he could make, fighting lawsuits. His patent had been infringed, and those who sought to rob him of the fruits of his labor took a bold stand. The result of all this was, that the inventor never received any just compensation for a machine that revolutionized the commerce of the country, and added enormously to the power and progress of the Republic. Lord Macaulay said that Eli Whitney did more to make the United States powerful than Peter the Great did to make the Russian Empire dominant. Robert Fulton declared that Arkwright, Watt, and Whitney were the three men that did more for mankind than any of their contemporaries. This is easy to believe, when we remember that while the South shipped 6 bags of cotton to England in 1786, and only 379 in 1791, ten years after the cotton gin came into use, 82,000 bales were exported. The very importance of Whitney's invention made it immensely profitable for the vicious and the depraved to seize and appropriate the inventor's rights. These robberies were upheld by those who were anxious to share in the profits; and political demagogues made themselves popular by misrepresenting Whitney, and clamoring against the law that was intended to protect him. It was only by means of this clamor, half political and wholly dishonest, that the plain rights of Whitney could be denied and justice postponed. His invention was entirely new. It was distinct from every other. It had no connection with and no relation to any other invention that had been made. It stood alone, and there could be no difficulty whatever in identifying it. And yet Whitney had just this difficulty. In his efforts to prove that he was the inventor of the cotton gin, and that he was entitled to a share of the immense profits that those who used it were reaping, he had to travel thousands of miles, and spend thousands of dollars in appearing before Legislatures and in courts that denied him justice. The life of his patent had nearly expired before any court finally enforced his right, and Congress refused to grant him an extension beyond the fourteen years that had then nearly expired. Associations and combinations had been formed for the purpose of defrauding Whitney, and these were represented by the ablest lawyers that could be hired. It is no wonder that Whitney, in writing to Robert Fulton, a brother inventor, declared that the troubles he had to contend with were the result of a lack of desire on the part of mankind to see justice done. The truth is, his invention was of such prime importance that the public fought for its possession, and justice and honesty were for the moment lost sight of. At one time but a few men in Georgia were bold enough to go into court and testify to the simplest facts within their knowledge; and Whitney himself says, that in one instance he had the greatest difficulty in proving that the machine had been used in Georgia, although at that very moment three, separate gins were at work within fifty yards of the building in which the court sat. They were all so near, that the rattle and hum of the machinery could be heard from the court-house steps.
In December, 1807, a judge was found to affirm the rights of Whitney under his patent. The judge's name was Johnson; and in his decision he said, "The whole interior of the Southern States was languishing, and its inhabitants emigrating for want of some object to engage their attention and employ their industry, when the invention of this machine at once opened views to them which set the whole country in active motion. From childhood to age it has presented to us a lucrative employment. Individuals who were depressed with poverty, and sunk in idleness, have suddenly risen to wealth and respectability. Our debts have been paid off. Our capital has increased, and our lands have trebled themselves in value. We cannot express the weight of the obligation which the country owes to this invention. The extent of it cannot now be seen."
The language of the learned judge was high-flown; but he was a just judge, and he had a faint and glimmering idea of the real importance of this remarkable invention. It was a very simple affair. The principle came to Whitney in a flash, and he had a model constructed within ten days after the despairing planters had gone to him with their problem. But it may be doubted whether any other individual, by one simple invention, ever did so much for the progress and enrichment of human interests, and for the welfare and the comfort of the human race. This little machine made the agriculture of the South the strongest and the richest in the world, and gave to this section a political power that was for years supreme in the nation, and was only surrendered as the result of a long and exhausting war. By means of the cotton gin, towns and cities have sprung up, and a vast network of railways has been built; and yet the most that Whitney received was a royalty on his gin in North Carolina, and a donation of fifty thousand dollars from the State of South Carolina. In Georgia his right to his invention was stolen, and all that he got out of it was a number of costly lawsuits.
After struggling for five years against the overwhelming odds that avarice and greed had mustered to aid them, Whitney turned his attention in another direction, and made a still more remarkable display of his genius. This part of his career does not belong directly to the history of Georgia, but it is interesting enough to be briefly recorded here. The United States Government was in want of arms, and this want various contractors had failed to meet. Through the influence of the secretary of the treasury, Whitney was given a contract to make ten thousand muskets at $13.40 apiece. He had no capital, no works, no machinery, no tools, no skilled workmen, no raw material. In creating a part of these and commanding the rest, he called into play an inventive genius, the extent of which must always excite wonder and admiration.
Within ten years he created his own works, and invented and made his own tools, invented and made his own machinery. More than this, he invented and applied a wholly new principle of manufacture,—a principle that has done more to advance human industry and increase wealth all over the world than any other known effort of the human mind to solve material problems. He invented and developed the principle or system of making the various parts of a musket or any other complex manufactured article, such as the sewing machine, so absolutely uniform as to be interchangeable. This principle has been carried out in hundreds of thousands of different ways. It has entered into and become a feature of a vast range of manufactures. The principle was established by a series of inventions as wonderful as any that the human mind ever conceived, so that Whitney has been aptly called the Shakespeare of invention. His inventions remain practically unchanged. After ninety years of trial, they are found to be practically perfect.
It was his peculiar gift to be able to convey into inanimate machinery the skill that a human being could acquire only after years of study and practice.
It is almost like belittling the greatest of marvels to call it a stroke of genius. He made it possible for the most ordinary laborer to accomplish a hundred times as much in an hour, and with the most exquisite perfection, as a skilled laborer could accomplish in a day.
On these wonderful inventions Whitney took out no patents. He gave them all to the public. In this way he revenged himself on those who had successfully robbed him of the fruits of his labor and genius in the invention of the cotton gin. Perhaps if he had been more justly treated in Georgia, he might have set up his works in this State, and this fact might have made the South the seat of great manufacturing industries. Who knows?
The credit of inventing the steamboat is by general consent given to Robert Fulton. Every schoolboy is taught that such is the case, and yet the fact is at least very doubtful. There is preserved among the papers in the Archives of Georgia a document that indicates, that, while Robert Fulton has won the credit for an invention that has revolutionized the commerce of the world, the real inventor may have been William Longstreet of Augusta, an uncle of General James B. Longstreet, and the father of Judge A. B. Longstreet, author of "Georgia Scenes." On the 26th of September, 1790, William Longstreet sent the following letter to Edward Telfair, who was then governor of Georgia:—