A Facsimile of the Title Page for Poor Richard, 1773 Almanac.
Benjamin Franklin.
He was a thriving man, but he was not ashamed to convey along the streets in a wheelbarrow the paper which he bought for the purpose of his trade. As a boy, he had been studious and thoughtful. As a man, he was prudent, sagacious and trustworthy. When he had earned a moderate competency heceased to labor at his business. Henceforth he labored to serve his fellow-men. Philadelphia owes to Franklin her university, her hospital, and her first and greatest library. It was he who discovered the identity of lightning and electricity. Before the revolution he was sent to England to plead the cause of the colonists. During the war he was sent as ambassador to the court of France. At the close of the war he was appointed one of the commissioners to negotiate a treaty of peace between the United States and Great Britain. The last great work of his life was to aid in the forming of the constitution of the United States. He continued in public office till within six months of his death and in public service till within twenty-four days of it.
THE EVE OF REVOLUTION.
GATHERING OF POLITICAL FORCES—GENERAL REVOLUTION—CIVIL REFORMS—DECAY OF OLD INSTITUTIONS—ROSSEAU AND HIS WRITINGS—VOLTAIRE—HOLLAND, A POLITICAL REFUGE—AMERICAN SETTLERS—LINES OF ALBERT B. STREET—GROWTH OF THE COLONIES—LOVE FOR ENGLAND—CAUSES OF REVOLUTION—MANUFACTURES FORBIDDEN—STAMP ACT—TAX ON TEA—PHILADELPHIA CONVENTION—ADDRESS TO THE KING—APPEAL TO ENGLAND—TO CANADA—INCIDENT IN OLD SOUTH CHURCH, BOSTON—PAUL REVERE'S RIDE.
"Freedom, thy brow,Glorious in beauty though it be, is scarredWith tokens of old wars; thy massive limbsAre strong with struggling. Power at thee has launchedHis bolts, and with his lightnings smitten thee.They could not quench the light thou hast from heaven."
"Freedom, thy brow,Glorious in beauty though it be, is scarredWith tokens of old wars; thy massive limbsAre strong with struggling. Power at thee has launchedHis bolts, and with his lightnings smitten thee.They could not quench the light thou hast from heaven."
Who has failed to observe on a calm summer day the elements of a storm collecting silently, and gradually, until the whole heavens grew dark, and the light of the sun was hid? The calm was changed into a tempest, the lightning flashed, the thunder roared, the clouds piled upthicker and heavier until at length the storm burst, the rain fell in torrents deluging the earth and in some cases uprooting the plants it was designed to nourish and strengthen.
So, too, in the political world the forces gather gradually, until they have attained sufficient power, and then burst upon the affrighted nations in all the tumult of a terrible revolution.
There are few intelligent people in this age but what have a general idea of the history of the world; yet how comparatively few are there who realize the fact, that in the seventy-five years which elapsed between 1775 and 1850 the great majority of civilized nations passed through a great social and political change. Among the nations so affected may be mentioned the United States, France, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Greece, Belgium, Poland, Hungary, Turkey, Mexico, Central America and nearly all the South American states. To this may be added the great commotions in Russia, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Holland, Switzerland and the states of the German empire caused by the wars of Napoleon. In England, Ireland and Canada, wars were only averted by civil reforms and concessions to popular rights.
For Europe this epoch was the result of the struggles of generations. At the close of the seven years' war in 1763 the representatives of even the Catholic powers admitted the decay of old institutions. The Catholic monarchies headed by the pope, in their struggle against Protestantism and free thought had encountered defeat. From this great struggle came forth a principle of all-pervading energy. The life-giving truth of the Reformation was the right of private judgment. The world was rising up against superstition; the oppression of industry was passing away. The use of reason was no longer considered a crime, but was on the other hand, considered a duty. Ideas of the brotherhood of man were flashing across the minds of leading men.
At this juncture a remarkable political writer made his appearance. From the discipleship of Calvin, from the republic of Geneva, from the abodes of poverty, Jean Jacques Rosseau came as the advocate of the poor and the oppressed. Through him the "sons of toil" breathed out their wrongs,and a new class gained a voice in the world of published thought. Though full of weaknesses and jealousies and betrayed by poverty into shameful deeds, he possessed a deep and real feeling for humanity. In an age of skepticism he solaced the ills of life by trust in God. Fearlessly questioning all the grandeurs of the world, he breathed the spirit of revolution into words of flame. What though the church of Rome cursed his writings with her ban; and parliaments burned them at the gibbet by the hangman's hand! What though France drove him from her soil, and the republic of his birth disowned her son! What though the wise and noble hooted at his wildness! Yet from the woes of the world in which he had suffered, from the wrongs of the down-trodden which he had shared, he derived an eloquence that went to the heart of the masses of Europe. Beyond most men of his time he saw the hand of Providence in the history of men.
"Nor God alone in the still calm we find,He mounts the storm and rides upon the wind."
"Nor God alone in the still calm we find,He mounts the storm and rides upon the wind."
Institutions may crumble and governments fall, but it is only that they may renew a better youth; the petals of the flower wither that fruit may form. On the banks of the stream of time not a great deed has been done by a hero, or monument raised by a nation, but tells the story of human progress. Each people that has disappeared, every great institution that has passed away, has been but a step in the ladder by which humanity ascends to a higher plane. The generations that handed the truth, from rank to rank down the ages, have themselves become dust; but the light still increases its ever-burning flame. From the intelligence that had been slowly ripening sprang the American revolution. While Rosseau was putting his burning thoughts in print, and Voltaire, the prince of scoffers, was hurling his venomed shafts of sarcasm at the priesthood of the Roman church, farther north was the little country, Holland, which had already gained a large share of civil and religious liberty. Here thought ranged through the wide domain of speculative reason; here the literary fugitive found an asylum, and the boldest writings, which in other countries were circulated by stealth, were openly published to the world.
While the learned and thoughtful men of Europe were thinking, the pioneers of America were acting. Nothing could restrain them from peopling the wilderness. To be a land-owner was the ruling passion of the New England man. In general, marriages were early and very fruitful. The sons, as they grew up skilled in the use of the ax and the rifle, would, one after another, move from the old homestead; and, with a wife, a yoke of oxen, a cow and a few necessary implements, build a small hut in the forest and by dint of industry soon win for themselves plenty and independence. The beautiful lines of Albert B. Street well describe the circumstances as well as the character of the men who founded American institutions and moulded the national character:
"His echoing ax the settler swungAmid the sea-like solitude,And rushing, thundering down were flungThe Titans of the wood.Loud shrieked the eagle as he dashedFrom out his mossy nest, which crashedWith its supporting bough,And the first sunlight leaping flashedOn the wolf's haunt below."Rude was the garb, and strong the frameOf him who plied his ceaseless toil:To form the garb, the wild-wood gameContributed their spoil;The soul that warmed that frame disdainedThe tinsel gaud and glare, that reignedWhere men their crowds collect;The simple fur untrimmed, unstained,This forest tamer decked."His roof adorned a pleasant spot,'Mid the black logs, green glowed the grain,And fruits and plants the woods knew notBloomed in the sun and rain.The smoke-wreath curling o'er the dell,The lowing herds—the tinkling bell,All made a landscape strange.Which was the living chronicleOf deeds that wrought the change."Humble the lot, yet his the race,When liberty sent forth her cry,Who thronged in conflict's deadliest placeTo fight—to bleed—to die;Who cumbered Bunker's hight of red.By hope through weary years were ledAnd witnessed Yorktown's sunBlaze on a nations banner spread—A nation's freedom won."
"His echoing ax the settler swungAmid the sea-like solitude,And rushing, thundering down were flungThe Titans of the wood.Loud shrieked the eagle as he dashedFrom out his mossy nest, which crashedWith its supporting bough,And the first sunlight leaping flashedOn the wolf's haunt below.
"Rude was the garb, and strong the frameOf him who plied his ceaseless toil:To form the garb, the wild-wood gameContributed their spoil;The soul that warmed that frame disdainedThe tinsel gaud and glare, that reignedWhere men their crowds collect;The simple fur untrimmed, unstained,This forest tamer decked.
"His roof adorned a pleasant spot,'Mid the black logs, green glowed the grain,And fruits and plants the woods knew notBloomed in the sun and rain.The smoke-wreath curling o'er the dell,The lowing herds—the tinkling bell,All made a landscape strange.Which was the living chronicleOf deeds that wrought the change.
"Humble the lot, yet his the race,When liberty sent forth her cry,Who thronged in conflict's deadliest placeTo fight—to bleed—to die;Who cumbered Bunker's hight of red.By hope through weary years were ledAnd witnessed Yorktown's sunBlaze on a nations banner spread—A nation's freedom won."
A century and a half had now passed since the first colony had been planted on American soil. The colonists were fast ripening into fitness for independence. They had increased with marvelous rapidity. Europe never ceased to send forth her needy thousands. America opened wide her hospitable doors and gave assurance of liberty and comfort to all who came. The thirteen colonies now contained a population of about three millions.
Up to the year 1764, the Americans cherished a deep reverence and affection for the mother country. They were proud to be considered British subjects, and of the lofty place England held among the nations of the earth. They gloried in the splendor of her military achievements. They copied her manners and her fashions. Her language, laws and literature were as fondly cherished by the colonists as by the English themselves.
Why was it then that such a marvelous change should take place in the minds of the American people, during the next twelve years? In 1764 the colonists loved England as their mother country. In 1776 they had learned to despise her authority. They bound themselves, by solemn oaths, to use no article of English manufacture. They publicly burned the Acts of the English Parliament. They even killed the king's soldiers and cast from them forever his authority. By what terrible magic was this change wrought so swiftly: that three millions of people should be taught to abhor the country they once loved?
To answer this question rightly we must remember that the cause of the colonists was one of popular rights against royal prerogative, that the best and wisest men in England were in favor of the colonists; that even William Pitt, thegreatest statesman England had ever seen, declared openly in Parliament, "I rejoice that America has resisted."
We must also bear in mind that for many years England had governed her American colonies harshly; and in a spirit of undisguised selfishness, America was ruled not for her own good but for the good of English commerce. The colonists were not allowed to export their products except to England. No foreign ships were permitted to enter colonial ports. Whatever were the exorbitant demands of English manufacturers or merchants, still the colonists were not permitted to buy at a cheaper market. Still more, certain goods, woolen for example, were not allowed to be sent from one colony to another. The manufacture of hats was forbidden, and even the Bible was not allowed to be printed in America.
The colonists had long borne the cost of their own government and defense. But in that age of profuse expenditure on useless wars, the king and nobility of England thought to gather from America's toiling sons the means to pay for their own misrule. The Parliament of England passed a law to tax America. The colonists replied they were willing to vote what moneys the king required of them; but they vehemently denied the right of any assembly, in which they were not represented, to take from them any portion of their property. Another law was also passed requiring a royal stamp to be placed on every legal document. Benjamin Franklin had been sent to England by the colonists. He went to plead their cause before the British government. He told them plainly that the colonists could not submit to such taxation. The act was to come in force on the first of November, 1763. On that day the church bells were tolled, and the people wore the aspect of those on whom some heavy calamity had fallen. Not one of the stamps was ever sold in America. Without stamps mercantile transactions ceased to be binding, notes were not legal, marriages were null. Yet the business of life went on. Men married; they bought; they sold—illegally, because without stamps; but no harm came of it.
England heard with amazement that America refused to obey the law. The great statesman, Pitt, denounced the act,and, at length, it was repealed. The repeal of the stamp act only delayed for a little the fast-coming crisis.
It was during this agitation that the colonists first felt the need of a commercial and political union. The idea of a general congress of the states was suggested, which soon afterwards met in the city of New York.
The king of England was still determined to tax America, and soon levied a tax on tea. The people determined they would drink no more tea rather than pay the tax. One day ships loaded with taxed tea arrived in Boston harbor. There was a great commotion; the men ran together to hold council. It was Sunday, and the people of Boston were very strict, yet here was an emergency in the presence of which all ordinary rules were suspended. The crisis had come at length. If that tea was landed, it would be sold; it would be used, and American liberty would become a by-word upon the earth.
The brave and liberty-loving Samuel Adams was the leading man of Boston at that time. He was a man in middle life just forty-two years of age, of cultivated mind and stainless reputation, a powerful speaker and writer, and a man in whose sagacity and moderation all men trusted. He resembled Cromwell in some particulars—his love of liberty, undaunted courage and trust in God. He was among the first to see that there was no resting place short of independence. He said: "Our forefathers were driven from the land of their birth in the cause of religious liberty. They made themselves homes in the wilds of America. We have earned a competence and are self-sustaining. We are free and need no king but God." The men of Boston felt the power of his resolute spirit and manfully followed where Samuel Adams led. Several days of excitement and discussion followed. People flocked in from the neighboring towns. The time was spent mainly in political meetings. At Fanueil Hall, in the churches and at the market place, the rights of the people were discussed. One day a meeting was held and the excited people continued in hot debate till the shades of evening fell. At length Samuel Adams stood up in the dimly lighted church and announced: "This meeting can do nothing more to save the country." With a stern shout the meeting broke up. Fifty men disguisedas Indians hurried down to the wharf, each man with a hatchet in his hand. The crowd followed, and stood on the shore in silence while the so-called Indians went on board the ship, broke open the chests of tea and threw them and their contents into the sea. No wonder King George was in a rage. No wonder that he demanded that the guilty parties, if they could be found, should be sent to England for trial. The great statesman, William Pitt, also called the Earl of Chatham, pleaded for measures of conciliation; but all in vain. General Gage with four regiments was sent to Boston. He threw up fortifications and lay as in a hostile city. The colonists appointed a day of fasting and prayer. They knew that their cause was just. They looked to Him for protection, who "holds the nations in the hollow of His hand." They knew that He, who had guided them across the rolling deep and had preserved them in the wilderness, could also protect them from the rage and avarice of wicked men. They also formed themselves into military companies. They occupied themselves with drill. They laid up stores of ammunition. Most of them had muskets and could use them. He who had no musket, now got one. They hoped that civil war might be averted, but there was no harm in being ready. While these things were going on in Boston, a congress of delegates had met in Philadelphia and were busy discussing measures in regard to the troubles that were thickening around them. Twelve colonies were represented but Georgia, the youngest and feeblest colony, still paused timidly on the brink of the perilous enterprise. Some of the truly great men of America met in that congress. Of it the great Earl of Chatham said: "For genuine sagacity, for singular moderation, for solid wisdom the congress of Philadelphia shines unrivalled." That quaint old building where they met became one of the spots ever dear to the patriot's heart. Among the famous men assembled there were George Washington whose massive sense and copious knowledge attracted attention, and made him a guiding power, and Patrick Henry, then a young man. He brought to the council a wisdom beyond his years, and a fiery eloquence, which, to some of his hearers, seemed almost more than human. He had already shown that he wasunfitted for farming or merchandising. He was now to prove that he could utter words which would sweep over a continent, thrill men's hearts like the most sublime strains of music, and rouse them up to high and noble deeds. There also was Richard Henry Lee, with his bewitching voice, his ripe scholarship, and rich stores of historical and political knowledge, which would have graced the highest assemblies of the old world. Nor should we forget to mention the noble-minded farmer, John Dickinson, whose published letters had done so much to form the public sentiment. His enthusiastic love of England was now overborne by a sense of wrong. And last, but by no means least, we may place on the list the name of Benjamin Franklin, the sage philosopher, the practical scientist, the shrewd diplomatist, the incorruptible patriot, the wise philanthropist. Such were some of the men whom God raised up to mould the character of the infant nation.
Still they did not wish for separation. They wished to have their wrongs redressed and continue British subjects. They drew up a narrative of their wrongs. They implored King George to remove those grievances. They even addressed the people of Great Britain, as subjects of the same empire, as men possessing common sympathies and common interests; yet they added that "they would not be 'hewers of wood and drawers of water' to any nation in the world." Had all the colonists been Englishmen or descendants of Englishmen no more could have been expected. When we recollect that they had been gathered from many nations and different climes, their subserviency to the interests of the British empire is remarkable. The colonists even appealed to their fellow-colonists in Canada for aid and sympathy. But Canada, newly conquered from France, was peopled almost wholly by Frenchmen. They were strangers to the religious struggles through which the more southern colonists had passed. And so from Canada there came no response of sympathy or help.
King George now determined to reduce the colonists to obedience. All trade with the colonies was forbidden. No ship of any nation was permitted to enter American ports or bring supplies to the settlers in America. In justice to theEnglish people it should be said, that in those days they had no control over the government of their country. All this was managed for them by a few great families. Their allotted part was to toil hard, pay their taxes, and be silent. If they had been permitted to speak, their voice would have been on the side of popular rights. They would have vindicated the men who asserted the right of self-government—a right which the great mass of Englishmen were not to enjoy for many a long year after.
Two incidents occurred about this time which well illustrate the spirit of the people. It was the Sabbath morning before the battle of Lexington. The scene of the first is the Old South Church, itself rich with the mementos of the past. Its walls are lined with monuments. The burying-ground around the church is a picturesque spot and was first used about 1660. The trees interweave their branches above the tombs, and only pencil-rays of sunlight break the broad, cool shadows of the spot. The Boston branch of the Winslow family rests here, and here also sleeps the famous Mary Chilson, who is said to have been the first to step on shore from the Mayflower. She died in 1679. Here lie the remains of Governor John Winthrop; Hon. John Philips, the first mayor of the city; Robert Treat Paine, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence; and many others among which should not be forgotten the name of Paul Revere.
At this church the governor of the colony and other British government officials usually attended. On this beautiful April Sabbath morning they had come as usual; and the happy yet determined people were quietly talking and loitering among the graves of their ancestors. At length the pastor came, and they followed him into the church. The hymn they sang is known as the ninety-fourth psalm. It commences:
"O Lord our God, to whom alone, all vengeance doth belong;O mighty God, who vengeance ownest, shine forth avenging wrong,Thy folk they break in pieces, Lord, thine heritage oppress,The widow they and stranger slay, and kill the fatherless."
"O Lord our God, to whom alone, all vengeance doth belong;O mighty God, who vengeance ownest, shine forth avenging wrong,Thy folk they break in pieces, Lord, thine heritage oppress,The widow they and stranger slay, and kill the fatherless."
The pastor's text was Psalms xlvi., 1: "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
He spoke of the wrongs the colonists had endured, the position they held in regard to posterity, and the responsibility which rested upon them to plant the institutions of liberty for the benefit of future generations. Warming with his theme, he uttered sentences which caused the hearts of foes to quake and the hearts of friends to glow and burn within them. Standing on the platform of truth and right, he dared to hurl defiance at a tyrant king.
The governor, Berkley, interrupted the speaker, and, calling him a traitor, demanded that he should cease.
Some of the militia of Boston foreseeing the danger of the daring speaker had followed him to the church, and already stood in the vestibule. Just at that moment the trumpet sounded, the drums beat and the great church-bell rang out its clarion notes calling the citizens to arms. Such was the spirit of the people that the governor sought in vain to stay their indignation which swept like a flood over the land. With the Puritans liberty was a part of their religion.
The other incident occurred on the eve of the battle of Lexington.
Early in April 1775, General Gage learned that considerable stores of ammunition were collected at the village of Concord, eighteen miles from Boston, and he determined to capture them. Late on the night of April 18th, eight hundred soldiers set out on this errand. The patriots observed that there was something more than ordinary in progress. Companies of soldiers were massed on Boston common under pretense of learning a new military exercise.
Doctor, afterwards General, Joseph Warren, who fell at Bunker Hill, received notice of the design of the troops, and at once sent Paul Revere to arouse the country. It was agreed that a signal light should be placed in the tower of the Old North Church to notify the watchers of the direction the troops had taken—one if by land, two if by sea. Paul Revere then rowed across the stream to Charlestown. He was not a moment too soon. General Gage heard that his plans were discovered, and orders were at once given that no person should be allowed to leave Boston. Had these orders been given five minutes sooner, the whole course of the revolutionmight have been changed. As it was Revere reached the other side in safety. Having obtained a fleet and sure-footed steed he stood impatiently watching the belfry tower of the Old North Church. Meanwhile Warren, in disguise, wandered through the darkness and listened with eager ears till he heard the measured tread of the grenadiers marching down to the boats. Then with lantern in hand he climbed up into the belfry and a gleam of light shone over the dark and silent city. Paul Revere sprang into the saddle, but paused a moment and gazed until a second light gleamed out distinctly and clearly. Then
"A hurry of hoofs in a village street,A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,And beneath from the pebbles in passing, a sparkStruck out by the steed that flies fearless and fleet;That was all! And yet thro' the darkness and gloomThe fate of a nation was riding that night,And the spark struck out by the steed in his flightKindled the land into flame with its heat.It was twelve by the village clockWhen he crossed the bridge into Medford town.It was one by the village clockWhen he rode into Lexington.He saw the gilded weathercock swimIn the moonlight as he passed,And the meeting-house windows blank and bareGaze at him with a spectral glareAs if they already stood aghast,At the bloody work they would look upon.You know the rest. In the books you have readHow the British regulars fired and fled,How the farmers gave them ball for ball,From behind each fence and farm-yard wall,Chasing the red-coats down the lane,Then crossing the fields to emerge againUnder the trees, at the turn of the road,And only pausing to fire and load.So through the night rode Paul Revere;And so through the night went his cry of alarmTo every Middlesex village and farm—A cry of defiance and not of fear—A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,A word that shall echo for evermore!For, borne on the night wind of the pastThrough human history to the lastThe good shall pray and by faith shall hearA delivering foot-fall as of that steedAnd a midnight message as of Paul Revere."
"A hurry of hoofs in a village street,A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,And beneath from the pebbles in passing, a sparkStruck out by the steed that flies fearless and fleet;That was all! And yet thro' the darkness and gloomThe fate of a nation was riding that night,And the spark struck out by the steed in his flightKindled the land into flame with its heat.It was twelve by the village clockWhen he crossed the bridge into Medford town.It was one by the village clockWhen he rode into Lexington.He saw the gilded weathercock swimIn the moonlight as he passed,And the meeting-house windows blank and bareGaze at him with a spectral glareAs if they already stood aghast,At the bloody work they would look upon.You know the rest. In the books you have readHow the British regulars fired and fled,How the farmers gave them ball for ball,From behind each fence and farm-yard wall,Chasing the red-coats down the lane,Then crossing the fields to emerge againUnder the trees, at the turn of the road,And only pausing to fire and load.So through the night rode Paul Revere;And so through the night went his cry of alarmTo every Middlesex village and farm—A cry of defiance and not of fear—A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,A word that shall echo for evermore!For, borne on the night wind of the pastThrough human history to the lastThe good shall pray and by faith shall hearA delivering foot-fall as of that steedAnd a midnight message as of Paul Revere."
THE BOYS OF '76.
BATTLE OF LEXINGTON—OFFICERS CHOSEN—A YEAR OF DISCUSSION—DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE—SPIRIT OF ENGLISH NOBILITY—DEFEAT OF AMERICAN FORCES—SUCCESS AT TRENTON AND PRINCETON—SUFFERINGS AT VALLEY FORGE—WASHINGTON'S PRAYER—BURGOYNE'S CAMPAIGN—ARRIVAL OF LA FAYETTE—ARNOLD'S TREASON—ANDRE'S DEATH—SIEGE OF YORKTOWN—CLOSE OF THE WAR—TREATY OF PEACE—ARMY DISBANDED—WASHINGTON RESIGNS HIS COMMISSION—CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION—WASHINGTON ELECTED PRESIDENT—HIS DEATH—HIS TOMB.
With the battle of Lexington the war of the Revolution may be said to commence. Henceforth the colonies were united. Georgia no longer hesitated, but sent her delegates to the continental Congress. Resolutions were unanimously passed to provide for the defense of the country. But it was not till after the battle of Bunker Hill that the people favored independence. When the tidings of the battle arrived, Patrick Henry exclaimed: "This was needed to rouse the country to action." On the same day Congress appointed George Washington commander-in-chief of the colonial forces. On the day following it elected its four major-generals.From deference to Massachusetts, for the noble part she had taken, the first of these was Artemas Ward. The second was Charles Lee, the son of an English officer, the third was Philip Schuyler, of New York; the fourth was Israel Putnam, of Connecticut. Thus the country took up arms with only one general officer, who drew to himself the trust and love of the country.
Washington immediately accepted the position and wrote to his brother: "I bid adieu to every kind and domestic ease, and embark on a wide ocean, boundless in its prospect, and in which, perhaps, no safe harbor is to be found."
George Washington.
Trumbull, the governor of Connecticut, wrote to him: "Now be strong and very courageous; may the God of the armies of Israel give you wisdom and fortitude and cover your head in the day of battle and danger." To this Washington replied: "The cause of our common country calls us both to an active and dangerous duty; divine Providence, which wisely orders the affairs of men, will enable us to discharge it with fidelity and success."
Such were the sentiments which animated the colonists in June, 1775. A year of discussion and anxiety followed, duringwhich a remarkable pamphlet was published, entitled, "Common Sense." The writer, who embodied in words the vague longing of the people, mixed with crude notions of his own, was Thomas Paine, the son of an English Quaker, and, at that time, a little under forty years of age. In after years he became a profligate and a reviler of the scriptures, yet, at that time, his writings did much to prepare the American people for self-government.
However, it was not until June, 1776, that the colonists gave up the hope of reconciliation. At that time the Assembly of Virginia issued a famous circular entitled, "The Rights of Man." The leading principles which it taught were, that "government ought to be instituted for the benefit of the people; that freedom of speech and of the press should never be interfered with; and that religion can be directed only by reason and conviction, not by fraud or violence." A month later, July 4th, 1776, the continental Congress issued THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. And for the support of this declaration they added: "With a firm reliance on the protection of DIVINE PROVIDENCE, we mutually pledge to each other, our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor."
Thus the youthful nation, as it took its place among the powers of the world, proclaimed its faith in the truth and reality and unchangeableness of freedom, virtue and right. The heart of Jefferson, in writing the declaration, and of Congress in adopting it, beat for all humanity. The assertion of right was made for all nations and for all coming generations. It was addressed to all mankind and was destined to make the circuit of the world. As it passed by the despotic countries of Europe, and the astonished people read with mingled surprise and joy, that "all men are created equal," and have an equal right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, they started as from the sleep of years; like those, who have been exiles from their native land from childhood, start up when they suddenly hear the dimly remembered accents of their mother tongue.
When the news of the declaration of independence reached England the spirit of the nobility was vehement against the Americans. Had the decision of the conflict hung on thestrength of armies alone, the colonists could not have gained the victory; but it involved the interests of Europe's toiling millions, and brought into action ideas which had hitherto no opportunity for expression, and forces which until then had no sphere of action. The principles that gave life to the new institutions pervaded history like a prophecy, and seemed like the realizing of the golden age of which the poets dreamed. The most profound thinkers and most intense lovers of the race saw in America's future an opportunity for man's higher development; the spiritual-minded saw in the history and circumstances of America the wonder-working and controlling hand of Providence.
The history of the military campaigns of 1776 and 1777, are too well known to need repetition here. The Americans were beaten in every attack made upon them, from the battle of Bunker Hill, June 17, 1775, to the battle of Fort Mifflin, October 22, 1777. At Cambridge they had no powder, yet their courage and perseverance held out. They lost Long Island, New York, Fort Washington and more than three thousand men. They fled through New Jersey followed by the victorious English. The American army kept on dwindling and shrinking till it comprised scarcely seven thousand men, ill armed, unpaid, ill clad and unfed.
During those two years and four months the only battles, that were precursors of success and gave renewed hope and vigor to the patriot cause, were the brilliant successes at Trenton and Princeton.
Washington Crossing the Delaware.
It was the night before Christmas. The British lay waiting fur the Delaware river to freeze over, that they might again pursue Washington and his little band. Meanwhile the Americans collected all the boats up and down the river for seventy miles. After dark they commenced to cross the river. The night was dark and tempestuous, and the weather so intensely cold that two of the soldiers were frozen to death. Yet amidst the floating ice and gusts of wind they fearlessly rowed across the river. At day-break Christmas morning they attacked the astonished royalists. Three times as many prisoners were taken as the number of the American troops engaged. The Americans then recrossed the river taking theprisoners with them. A week later, Washington made another night march and surprised the British at Princeton, capturing prisoners and making good his escape.
These exploits, inconsiderable as they may seem, greatly raised the spirits of the American people. When triumphs like these were possible, under circumstances so discouraging, there was no need to despair.
Though the British advanced on Philadelphia and took possession of it, still there was a feeling of insecurity in the British army. They knew not what moment they might be attacked.
Notwithstanding these successes many of the American officers left the army in disgust. The nation could not pay her soldiers and made no promise of future indemnity. The British had full possession of New York, and were rioting and feasting at Philadelphia. Meanwhile Washington with his little army had retreated to a secluded place among the Pennsylvania hills, which was known by the name of Valley Forge.
As the men moved toward the spot selected for their winter resting-place, they had no clothes to cover their nakedness, blankets to lie on, nor tents to sleep under. For the want of shoes, their marches through frost and snow might be traced by the blood from their feet, and they were almost as often without provisions as with them.
An extract from one of Washington's letters to Congress may not be out of place: "We have this day no less than two thousand eight hundred and ninety-eight men unfit for duty, because they are barefoot or otherwise naked. Our whole strength in continental troops amounts to no more than eight thousand two hundred men. Since the fourth instant, owing to hardships and exposures, our numbers have decreased nearly two thousand men. Numbers are obliged to sit all night by the fires; or sleep on a cold, bleak hill, under frost and snow, without clothes or blankets."
All this time the British soldiers in Philadelphia were well provided for; the officers were living in luxury at the expense of the inhabitants. The days were spent in pastime, the nights in entertainments.
It was at this period of the war—the darkest through which the nation ever passed—that the following incident occurred. It was observed that each day after Washington had visited the hospital tents and administered to the sick whatever necessities or comforts he had in his power to bestow, he retired into the forest at some distance from the camp. Curiosity prompted an individual, named Isaac Pitts, to follow him. There, at the foot of a large tree, with head uncovered, kneeling in the snow, was seen the commander-in-chief of the American armies, engaged in prayer before God. With an anxious and burdened mind—a mind conscious of its need of divine support and consolation—Washington went and rolled those mighty burdens—too heavy for him to bear unaided—upon the arm of Omnipotence. Isaac Pitts related what he had seen and heard, and on a subsequent day at least three persons beheld the venerated "father of his country," at prayer before his God.
It is recorded in Matthew vi., 6: "But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father, which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly." May we not believe that the high moral courage which dared greater perils than the whistling of bullets; that will of mighty strength which having chosen the right, though unpopular, never deviated from it; that calm self-command, which bore up under the greatest reverses and still preserved its equanimity amidst the taunts of enemies and censure of friends—may we not believe that these things were among the open rewards of secret prayer?
From that time forward success seems to have attended the American arms. Meanwhile the tidings of American heroism and suffering had reached the old world and thrilled the hearts of the lovers of liberty in Europe. Prominent among these was the Marquis de la Fayette, a young French nobleman, then scarcely nineteen years of age, who offered to serve in the American army, without pension or allowance. The king of France dreaded the growth of civil and political liberty; yet he could not withstand the temptation to wreak a terrible vengeance on England for having wrested Canada from hisgrasp. He sent a fleet and army to America, which greatly aided the cause of Independence. Thus did the rage of wicked men further the designs of Providence.
While Washington was still hemmed in among the hills of Pennsylvania, the British general, Burgoyne, had marched from Canada into the heart of New England. At his approach every man took down his musket from the wall and hurried to the front. Little discipline had they, but a resolute purpose and a sure aim. Difficulties thickened around the fated army.
Scene of Burgoyne's Surrender.
At length, Burgoyne found himself at Saratoga. It was now October. Heavy rains fell. Provisions were growing scanty. Gradually it became evident that the British were surrounded. Night and day a circle of fire encompassed them. Burgoyne called his officers together. There was but one thing to do and it was done. The British army surrendered. Nearly six thousand brave men, in sorrow and in shame, laid down their arms. The men who took them were mere peasants. No two of them were dressed alike. These grotesque Americanwarriors behaved towards their conquered enemies with true nobility. General Gates, the American commander, kept his men strictly within their lines, that they might not witness the piling of the British arms. No taunt was offered, no look of disrespect was directed against the fallen. All were mute in astonishment and pity.
Meeting Place of Andre and Arnold.
One of the saddest incidents of the war, was the tragic fate of Major Andre. The Americans had a strong fortress at West Point, on the Hudson river. The English desired toobtain this place, as its possession would give them command of the Hudson river, up which their ships might sail more than a hundred miles. But that fort, sitting impregnably on rocks, two hundred feet above the river, was hard to win. Benedict Arnold, a proud and ambitious American officer, was in command of this post. Loving money more than duty, he determined to sell this fortress to the English. He opened negotiations with Sir Henry Clinton, then in command of the English at New York, who sent Major Andre to arrange the terms of the transfer.
At midnight Major Andre landed from a British ship at a lonely place, where Arnold awaited him. Their conference lasted so long, that it was deemed unsafe for Andre to return to the ship. It was determined that the next night he should attempt, in disguise, to reach New York by land. The pass given to him by Arnold, permitted him to go through the American lines. His danger might now be considered at an end, and, under cover of the darkness, he rode cheerfully on his lonely journey, till he came to a small stream. Thick woods on each side made the darkness still more gloomy. Suddenly three men stepped from among the trees and ordered him to halt. Thinking them to be friends, he told them he was a British officer on very important business. Alas for Andre! they were Americans. Andre was searched, and in his boots were discovered Arnold's drawings of West Point. The men knew then that he was a spy. He vainly offered them a large sum of money, but the men nobly refused to sell their liberty and their country for gold. Andre was tried, condemned, and, ten days after, executed.
His death caused deep sensation throughout the army and England. Men in England began to inquire into the causes of this terrible, fratricidal war.
While the British general, Clinton, was holding New York, Lord Cornwallis was fortifying himself in Yorktown, Virginia. The French fleet sailed for the Chesapeake bay, and Washington decided to act in concert with the French, and lay siege to Yorktown. The bombarding was carried on with extraordinary energy. In a few days the defenses lay in utter ruins. Cornwallis determined to evacuate Yorktown and join Clintonat New York. One night he began to embark his men in order to cross the York river and set out on his desperate march. A violent storm arose and scattered his boats. All hope was now at an end. In about a fortnight from the opening of the siege, the British army, eight thousand strong, laid down its arms.
Well might the colonists rejoice for their long and bitter struggle was about to close. Eight years had passed since the first blood was shed at Lexington. The representatives of the English people had learned the causes of the American revolution, and refused to continue the fratricidal war. The independence of the United States was acknowledged and the British forces were withdrawn.
On the 30th of November, 1782, a treaty of peace was signed at Versailles, between the commissioners, Benjamin Franklin, John Adams and John Jay, appointed by the Congress of the United States and those of Great Britain. The treaty was not a compact imposed by force, but a perpetual settlement of all that had been called in question. By doing this act of justice to her former colonies, England rescued her own liberties from imminent danger, and gave a pledge of liberty to her other dependencies. That selfish colonial policy, which had led to the cruel and unnatural war, was laid aside forever. Great Britain was henceforth the mother of nations—the great colonizing power—destined to found colonies in every quarter of the globe, and sow the islands of the ocean with the seeds of freedom.
For the United States, the war which began on Lexington Green, ended with the independence and possession of a country, which has increased till it is now thirty times larger than the parent state.
"The boys of '76" had fought their last battle. December 4th, 1783, Washington came to disband the army. Many of the soldiers had been home by permission. They now came to bid farewell to their commander-in-chief, and then return to their great work of building a nation. Washington and his soldiers met for the last time. No more beating of drums or roar of cannon; no more weary marches or the clash of arms. They had fought side by side, and the memories ofthose conflicts could never be effaced. Washington said: "With a heart full of love and gratitude, 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."
The officers then took his hand. There were tears upon his cheek, and the officers felt a choking in their throats. They passed out of doors down to the ferry. Washington stepped into a boat, took off his hat and waved a farewell. The oars of the rowers soon bore him from New York to the New Jersey side.
At noon on the 20th of December, he stood in the old hall of the state house at Annapolis, in the presence of the Congress, which had called him from his quiet home eight years before, to take command of the armies of the United States. Now he was to resign it.
He said: "I commend the interests of our country to the protection of Almighty God, and those who have the superintendence of them to His holy keeping. Having finished the work assigned me, and bidding an affectionate farewell to this august body, under whose order I have so long acted, I here offer my commission and take leave of all employments of public life."
Thus did Washington gladly return to his home on the Potomac. The simple grandeur of his character was now revealed beyond the possibility of misconception. Afterwards he was twice elected president; yet never abused the trust reposed in him. There were many who would have made him king. He trampled on their offer, and went back to his fields of corn and quiet haunts at Mount Vernon. The grandest act of his public life was to give up power; the most magnanimous deed of his private life, was to liberate his slaves.
During the Revolution most of the states had adopted written codes or constitutions on which all their civil laws were based. They were virtually, at that time, thirteen independent states. Congress had but little authority; could not enforce laws or collect taxes. A general constitution was needed, which would fuse them into one nationality, and control their conflicting interests.