THE GREAT EVENTS

BY

FAMOUS HISTORIANS

A COMPREHENSIVE AND READABLE ACCOUNT OF THE WORLD'S HISTORY, EMPHASIZING THE MORE IMPORTANT EVENTS, AND PRESENTING THESE AS COMPLETE NARRATIVES IN THE MASTER-WORDS OF THE MOST EMINENT HISTORIANS

NON-SECTARIAN NON-PARTISAN NON-SECTIONAL

ON THE PLAN EVOLVED FROM A CONSENSUS OF OPINIONS GATHERED FROM THE MOST DISTINGUISHED SCHOLARS OF AMERICA AND EUROPE, INCLUDING BRIEF INTRODUCTIONS BY SPECIALISTS TO CONNECT AND EXPLAIN THE CELEBRATED NARRATIVES, ARRANGED CHRONOLOGICALLY, WITH THOROUGH INDICES, BIBLIOGRAPHIES, CHRONOLOGIES, AND COURSES OF READING

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

ROSSITER JOHNSON, LL.D.

ASSOCIATE EDITORS

CHARLES F. HORNE, Ph.D.

JOHN RUDD, LL.D.

With a staff of specialists

VOLUME XIV

The National Alumni

COPYRIGHT, 1905,
By THE NATIONAL ALUMNI


CONTENTS

VOLUME XIV

PAGE
An Outline Narrative of the Great Events, [xiii]
CHARLES F. HORNE
The Battle of Lexington (a.d. 1775), [1]
RICHARD FROTHINGHAM
The Battle of Bunker Hill (a.d. 1775), [19]
JOHN BURGOYNE
JOHN HENEAGE JESSE
JAMES GRAHAME
Canada Remains Loyal to England
Montgomery's Invasion (a.d. 1775), [30]
JOHN M'MULLEN
Signing of the American Declaration of Independence
(a.d. 1776)
, [39]
THOMAS JEFFERSON
JOHN A. DOYLE
The Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga (a.d. 1777), [51]
SIR EDWARD SHEPHERD CREASY
The First Victory of the American Navy (a.d. 1779), [68]
ALEXANDER SLIDELL MACKENZIE
Joseph II Attempts Reform in Hungary (a.d. 1780), [85]
ARMINIUS VAMBERY
Siege and Surrender of Yorktown (a.d. 1781), [97]
HENRY B. DAWSON
LORD CORNWALLIS
British Defence of Gibraltar (a.d. 1782), [116]
FREDERICK SAYER
Close of the American Revolution (a.d. 1782), [137]
JOHN ADAMS
JOHN JAY
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
HENRY LAURENS
JOHN M. LUDLOW
Settlement of American Loyalists in Canada (a.d. 1783), [156]
SIR JOHN G. BOURINOT
The First Balloon Ascension (a.d. 1783), [163]
HATTON TURNOR
Framing of the Constitution of the United States (a.d. 1787), [173]
ANDREW W. YOUNG
JOSEPH STORY
Inauguration of Washington
His Farewell Address (a.d. 1789-1797), [197]
JAMES K. PAULDING AND GEORGE WASHINGTON
French Revolution: Storming of the Bastille (a.d. 1789), [212]
WILLIAM HAZLITT
Hamilton Establishes the United States Bank (a.d. 1791), [230]
ALEXANDER HAMILTON AND LAWRENCE LEWIS, JR.
The Negro Revolution in Haiti (a.d. 1791)
Toussaint Louverture Establishes the Dominion of his Race, [236]
CHARLES WYLLYS ELLIOTT
Republican France Defies Europe
The Battle of Valmy (a.d. 1792), [252]
ALPHONSE M. L. LAMARTINE
The Invention of the Cotton-gin (a.d. 1793)
Enormous Growth of the Cotton Industry in America, [271]
CHARLES W. DABNEY
R. B. HANDY
DENISON OLMSTED
The Execution of Louis XVI (a.d. 1793)
Murder of Marat: Civil War in France, [295]
THOMAS CARLYLE
The Reign of Terror (a.d. 1794), [311]
FRANÇOIS P. G. GUIZOT
The Downfall of Poland (a.d. 1794), [330]
SIR ARCHIBALD ALISON
The Rise of Napoleon
The French Conquest of Italy (a.d. 1796), [339]
SIR WALTER SCOTT
Overthrow of the Mamelukes (a.d. 1798)
The Battle of the Nile, [353]
CHARLES KNIGHT
Jenner Introduces Vaccination (a.d. 1798), [363]
SIR THOMAS J. PETTIGREW
Universal Chronology (a.d. 1775-1799), [377]
JOHN RUDD


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

VOLUME XIV

PAGE
Charlotte Corday, after the assassination of Marat, apprehended by the Jacobin mob (page 305),
Painting by J. Weerts. [Frontispiece]
The Siege of Yorktown, [108]
Painting by L. C. A. Couder.


AN OUTLINE NARRATIVE

TRACING BRIEFLY THE CAUSES, CONNECTIONS, AND CONSEQUENCES OF

THE GREAT EVENTS

(THE EPOCH OF REVOLUTION)

CHARLES F. HORNE

"After us, the deluge!" said Louis XV of France. He died in 1774, and the remaining quarter of the eighteenth century witnessed social changes the most radical, the most widespread which had convulsed civilization since the fall of Rome. "As soon as our peasants seek education," said Catharine II of Russia to one of her ministers, "neither you nor I will retain our places." Catharine, one of the shrewdest women of her day, judged her own people by the more advanced civilization of Western Europe. She saw that it was the growth of ideas, the intellectual advance, which had made Revolution, world-wide Revolution, inevitable.

If we look back to the beginnings of Teutonic Europe, we see that the social system existing among the wild tribes that overthrew Rome, was purely republican. Each man was equal to every other; and they merely conferred upon their sturdiest warrior a temporary authority to lead them in battle. When these Franks (the word itself means freemen) found themselves masters of the imperial, slave-holding world of Rome, the two opposing systems coalesced in vague confusing whirl, from which emerged naturally enough the "feudal system," the rule of a warrior aristocracy. Gradually a few members of this nobility rose above the rest, became centres of authority, kings, ruling over the States of modern Europe. The lesser nobles lost their importance. The kings became absolute in power and began to regard themselves as special beings, divinely appointed to rule over their own country, and to snatch as much of their neighbors' as they could.

Secure in their undisputed rank, the monarchs tolerated or even encouraged the intellectual advance of their subjects, until those subjects saw the selfishness of their masters, saw the folly of submission and the ease of revolt, saw the world-old truth of man's equality, to which tyranny and misery had so long blinded them.

Of course these ideas still hung nebulous in the air in the year 1775, and Europe at first scarce noted that Britain was having trouble with her distant colonies. Yet to America belongs the honor of having first maintained against force the new or rather the old and now re-arisen principles. England, it is true, had repudiated her Stuart kings still earlier; but she had replaced their rule by that of a narrow aristocracy, and now George III, the German king of the third generation whom she had placed as a figure-head upon her throne, was beginning, apparently with much success, to reassert the royal power. George III was quite as much a tyrant to England as he was to America, and Britons have long since recognized that America was fighting their battle for independence as well as her own.

The English Parliament was not in those days a truly representative body. The appointment of a large proportion of its members rested with a few great lords; other members were elected by boards of aldermen and similar small bodies. The large majority of Englishmen had no votes at all, though the plea was advanced that they were "virtually represented," that is, they were able to argue with and influence their more fortunate brethren, and all would probably be actuated by similar sentiments. This plea of "virtual representation" was now extended to America, where its absurdity as applied to a people three thousand miles away and engaged in constant protest against the course of the English Government, became at once manifest, and the cry against "Taxation without representation" became the motto of the Revolution.

THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION

Parliament, finding the Americans most unexpectedly resolute against submitting to taxation, would have drawn back from the dispute; but King George insisted on its continuance. He could not realize the difference between free-born Americans long trained in habits of self-government, and the unfortunate peasantry of Continental Europe, bowed by centuries of suffering and submission. He thought it only necessary to bully the feeble colonists, as Louis XIV had bullied the Huguenots by dragonnades. Soldiers were sent to America to live on the inhabitants; and in Boston, General Gage to complete the terror sent out a force to seize the patriot leaders and destroy their supplies.

Then came "the shot heard round the world." Instead of cringing humbly, the Americans resisted. Several were shot down at Lexington, and in return the remainder attacked the soldiers with a resolution and skill which the peasantry of an open country had never before displayed against trained troops. These farmers had learned fighting from the Indians, they had learned self-reliance, and each man acting for himself, seeking what shelter he could find from tree or fence, fired upon the Britons, until the most famous soldiery of Europe fled back to Boston "their tongues hanging out of their mouths like dogs."[1]

The astonished Britons clamored that their opponents did not "fight fair," meaning that the peasants did not stand still like sheep to be slaughtered, or rush in bodies to be massacred by the superior weapons and trained manœuvres of the professional troops. Therein the objection touched the very point of the world's advance: the common people, the country folk of one land at least, had ceased to be mere unthinking cattle; they acted from intellect, not from sheer brute despair.

Within a week of Lexington an army of the Americans were gathered round Boston to defend their homes from further invasions by these foreigners. The English tried the issue again, and attacked the Americans at Bunker Hill.[2] The steady valor of the regular troops, engaged on a regular battle-ground, enabled them to drive the poorly armed peasants from their intrenchments. But the victory was won at such frightful expense of life to the British that it was not until forty years had brought forgetfulness, that they tried a similar assault in military form against the Americans at New Orleans. The farmers could shoot as well as think. After Bunker Hill the Revolution was recognized as a serious war, not a mere mad uprising of hopelessness. Washington took control of the destinies of America. Congress proclaimed its Independence.[3]

At this period Northern America became unfortunately and apparently permanently divided against itself. Canada, largely from its French origin and language, had always stood apart from the more southern English-speaking colonies. There had been repeated wars between them. But now when England had seized possession of Canada and within fifteen years of that event the southern colonists were fighting England, it did seem probable or at least hopeful that all America might unite against the common foe.

So thought the American Congress, and despatched a force, not against the inhabitants of Canada, but against the British troops there, to enable the Canadians to join in the revolt. The Canadians refused; the British forces were brilliantly handled, and the tiny American army, totally unequal to coping single-handed against the enemy and against the gigantic natural difficulties of the expedition, failed—failed gloriously but totally—and only roused anew against the southland the antagonism of the Canadians, mingled now with contempt and a growing admiration and even loyalty toward the Britons.[4]

Canada became a depot into which British troops were poured, and when Lord Howe and his army had captured New York, the English Government planned a powerful expedition to descend the Hudson valley, unite with Howe and so isolate New England from the less violently rebellious colonies farther south. On the success or failure of this undertaking hung the fate not only of the new continent, but one seeing the consequences now is almost tempted to say, the fate of the world.

The command was intrusted to Burgoyne, an experienced and capable general. Troops were given to him, it was thought, amply sufficient to overbear all opposition. There was no regular army to resist him. But the American farmers of the region rallied in their own defence, they hung like a cloud around Burgoyne's advance, they cut off his supplies, they became ever more numerous in his front, until at last he fought desperate battles against them, could not advance, and was compelled to surrender his entire army.[5]

Instantly the war assumed a new aspect. Europe awoke to the fact that England was engaged against a worthy foe. France, humbled in India, driven from America, defeated on her own borders, saw her opportunity for revenge, revenge against her hated rival. Moreover, the spirit of freedom which had been proclaimed by Voltaire, by Rousseau, by a thousand other voices, was awake in France; it saw its own cause, hopeless at home, being triumphantly defended in America; and it cried enthusiastically that the heroes should have aid. Spain, too, had sore causes of complaint against England. So France first and then Spain made alliance with the Americans. George III by his obstinacy had plunged his realm into sore difficulties, had given the final blow to any possible reëstablishment of kingly power in England.

The most immediate shock caused the Britons by the changed aspect of the world, was given them by Paul Jones, an American naval officer. He took advantage of the French alliance to secure a little fleet, part American but mostly French; and with it he cruised boldly around Great Britain, bidding defiance to her navy and plundering her shores, in some faint imitation of the depredations her troops had committed in America. The fight of Jones in his flagship against the English frigate Serapis has become world-famous, and the grim resolution with which the American won his way to victory in face of apparent impossibilities, taught the Britons that on sea as well as on land they had met their match.[6]

For a time the island kingdom bore up against all her foes. The most famous of the many sieges of Gibraltar occurred; and for three years the French and Spanish fleets sought unavailingly to batter the stubborn rock into surrender.[7] But at last asecond British army was trapped and captured at Yorktown by the French and Americans.[8] Then England yielded. It was impossible for her longer to undertake the enormous task of transporting troops across three thousand miles of ocean. She needed them at home; and many of the English people had always protested against the fratricidal war with their brethren in America. American independence was acknowledged, and England was left free to demand a peace of her European foes.[9]

The antagonisms roused by this bitter war, in which British troops had repeatedly and cruelly ravaged the American lands and homes, were long in fading. Canada had stood loyally by Great Britain, and the break between the northern land and the other colonies was sharp and final. Even throughout the States which had become independent, a portion of the people had loyally upheld British rule; and on these unfortunates the liberated Americans threatened to wreak vengeance for all that had been endured. Thus came about a vast emigration of the "Tories" or Loyalists from the new States to Canada. They brought with them the bitterness of the expatriated, and Canada became yet more firmly British, more "anti-American" than before.[10]

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

Of even greater influence were the consequences of the American Revolution as affecting Continental Europe. Estimates have differed widely as to just how much the French Revolution was caused by that across the ocean. Certain it is that Frenchmen had been enthusiastic in America's cause, that many of their officers fought under Washington, and returned home deeply infused with devotion to liberty. It has long been a popular error, encouraged by historians of a former generation, that the French Revolution arose from a starving peasantry driven to madness by intolerable oppression. We know better now. It was in Paris, not in the provinces, that the revolt began. Judged by modern standards, of course, the French peasantry were oppressed; but if we measure their condition by that of surrounding nations at the time, by the Austrians under kind-hearted Maria Theresa, or even by the Prussians under Frederick the Great, most advanced of the upholders of "benevolent despotism," in whose lands serfs were still "sold with the soil" compared with these, Frenchmen were free, prosperous, and happy. It is even true that the lower classes were unready for change. In Hungary, Joseph II, son of Maria Theresa, attempted a complete and radical reform of all abuses, and the mob rose in fury against his innovations, compelled him to restore their "ancient customs." They had grown familiar with their chains.[11]

The French Revolution was an uprising of the middle classes. Its great leaders in the earlier stages were Mirabeau, son of a baron, and America's own friend the Marquis Lafayette. Even the King, Louis XVI, at least partly approved the movement. The States-General was summoned in 1789 after an interval of nearly two centuries, to decide on the best way of relieving the country from its financial embarrassments. This gathering was soon resolved into a National Assembly which insisted on giving France a constitution, making it a limited instead of an absolute monarchy.[12]

On the 14th of July the mob of Paris rose in sudden fury and stormed the ancient state prison, the Bastille. The King sent no troops to resist them; and from that time his power was but a shadow. His overthrow, however, was not yet contemplated. The Revolution was still to be one of dignity and intellect. An entire year after the fall of the Bastille, the president of the National Assembly could still say in addressing a deputation of Americans headed by Paul Jones: "It was by helping you to conquer liberty that the French learned to understand and love it. The hands which went to burst your fetters were not made to wear them themselves; but, more fortunate than you, it is our King himself, it is a patriot and citizen king, who has called us to the happiness which we are enjoying that happiness which has cost us merely sacrifices, but which you paid for with torrents of blood Courage broke your chains; reason has made ours fall off."

But alas! reason was soon to lose control. The lower classes had wakened to a sense of their power, they began to use it savagely. Hatred of the haughty aristocracy, long smoldering, burst everywhere into flame. Mobs of country peasants plundered isolated chateaux and slew their inmates. Meanwhile the National Assembly had been abolishing all titles of nobility; the vast estates of the clergy were confiscated. The aristocrats began fleeing from France, and the possessions of all who fled were declared forfeited to the new government.

Imagine the tumult that this upheaval caused to the rest of Europe. News travelled slowly in those days; but these "émigrés," these banished nobles, were palpable evidences of what had occurred. The common folk everywhere, especially along the French borders in Germany, Switzerland, and Italy, celebrated the French triumph as their own. Liberty was at hand! For them, too, it would come presently! Murmurings of revolt grew loud. The monarchs of Europe, terrified, took up the cause of the Émigrés as their own. France was threatened with invasion. King Louis threw in his lot with his royal friends and attempted flight from Paris. He was caught and brought back a prisoner. A foreign army marched against France.

This invasion was met and repelled in the Battle of Valmy (1792), not an extensive or bloody contest in itself, but one of incalculable importance in human history, because like Bunker Hill it showed that a new force had arisen to upset all the military calculations of the past. Raw troops could now be found to meet on equal terms with veterans. Liberty, hitherto an impalpable idea, a mere phantom in the brains of a few philosophers, proved able to call up armies at a word, able physically to hold its own against embattled despotism. Even the German Goethe wrote of Valmy, "In this place and on this day a new era of the world begins."[13]

France however had already gone mad with its success. Even before Valmy wholesale murder had begun in Paris. The prisons were broken open and a thousand "aristocrats" hideously butchered without trial. The day after Valmy, the land was proclaimed a republic. King Louis was put on trial for his life, and in January, 1793, was executed.[14] Frenchmen began fighting among themselves. The reign of "terror" began as that of kings was abolished. Chiefs of each faction accused all others as traitors, and executions by the guillotine rose to fifty a day. "We must have a hundred!" cried Robespierre, the lunatic leader of the moment.

The excesses in Paris roused civil war, and through all France men slew one another in the name of liberty. In Brittany the peasants even rose in support of royalty, and refused allegiance to the republic. Never has the most hideous brutality of man been more openly displayed than in those days of vengeance. The intellectual classes of Europe everywhere shrank back, terrified at the spectre they had evoked.

The Reign of Terror ended in 1794 with the downfall and execution of its leader, Robespierre.[15] The civil war was trampled out in blood. And with Titanic energy the French Republic defended itself against its foreign foes.

All Europe had joined in a coalition against France—all the kings, that is. Their subjects still doubted, still hoped, still looked anxiously to France to see if freedom were in truth a possibility. Then from the ranks of the liberated French arose great generals, aristocrats no longer, but men of the people, fitted to lead the new-born armies of the people. Greatest of these and grimmest of them was Napoleon Bonaparte. He taught the timorous legislative authorities of Paris how to reassert their dominion over "King Mob," who had ruled them and the country for four hideous years. He checked a new uprising by a discharge of well-stationed cannon, aimed to kill.

Order being thus established at home, the French began to pour over the border in attack upon those kings who had threatened them. In many places they were still received as the apostles of liberty. Holland, Switzerland, the Rhine lands, became allies or dependents of France. Kings were helpless against them. To the spirit of Republicanism, to the impassioned courage of Frenchmen, was added the genius of Bonaparte. He conquered Italy. He plundered her and sent home priceless treasures to delight his countrymen and fill their exhausted treasury. He became the man of the hour.[16]

Far beyond France spread the influence of her example. In Eastern Europe, Poland was roused against the despoilers who had already seized a portion of her territory. She began a rebellion under Kosciuszko, who, like Lafayette, had imbibed the love of freedom in America. But Poland was crushed by the overpowering forces of Russia, Prussia, and Austria. Her remaining provinces were divided among the plunderers and the last fragment of her independence was extinguished.[17]

In Haiti also there was a rebellion. The negroes of the island rose against their Spanish masters and drove them into exile. Toussaint Louverture, often regarded as the greatest hero of his race, led the insurgents victoriously against both Spanish and English forces, and finally with French help established the independence of Haiti as a negro republic. He became administrator as well as warrior. After a few successful years he was treacherously seized and held prisoner by Napoleon; but the monument he had erected for himself, the "Black Republic," continued and still continues to exist.[18]

In a period so tumultuous as was this quarter-century, one could scarce expect that the world would make much progress in science. Men were too intent on sterner things. There was, however, just before the beginning of the French Revolution, one event which to a future generation may seem more important even than to us. Aërial navigation began. The first successful balloon ascension was made by the Montgolfier brothers, and the sport became for a while a Parisian fad.[19] Still more noteworthy was the employment of vaccination as a preventive against smallpox. The system was introduced in England by Jenner in 1798, and its use spread rapidly over Europe. More recently it has been employed against other diseases as well, and the resultant increase in the general health of mankind is beyond computation.[20]

FORMATION OF THE UNITED STATES

Meanwhile America, the source or at least the partial source of all this republican tumult, was having difficulties of her own. The peace after Yorktown left her exhausted. The Articles of Confederation which had sufficed to hold the colonies together under the stress of their great necessity, had proven insufficient to give any real unity. Each little colony was jealous of its own power as an independent State: and for a time it seemed as if they must disband, that America must become like Europe, divided into a collection of separate ever-jarring States, devastated by constant wars.

That this was not our own country's fate, we owe to Washington. Our saviour in war, he became also our saviour in peace. After watching through some years of this disorganization, he emerged from the peaceful retirement of his country home, to urge that some means be taken to form a more perfect union. It was largely through his instrumentality that the convention of 1787 was called; and he presided over its labors. Again and again it seemed as if the convention would disband in anarchy. The antagonisms between the various delegates appeared irreconcilable. But always there was Washington to control the flaming passions, to insist upon moderation, upon union. And in the end that convention drew up the Constitution of the United States.[21]

Even then there remained the task of persuading each State to accept the Constitution; and this also would have been impossible had not all men looked to Washington to act as president of the new republic, to do justice between its differing sections. Relying equally on his wisdom, his caution, and his incorruptibility, the States intrusted to him a power they would have conferred upon no other.

Two years were occupied in arranging matters, and then, in 1789, the date so memorable to France as well, the new government was organized, Washington was inaugurated as President, and the United States began its stupendous career as a single nation.[22]

There were difficulties, of course. American finances seemed as hopelessly involved as had been those of monarchical France. But this rock upon which the French projects of reform all split, our government escaped by the financial genius of Alexander Hamilton.[23] The natural summons of the French that the Americans should become their allies, should help them to win freedom in their turn, proved another source of danger. A thousand others were not lacking. But Washington's conservatism preserved his government through all. He proclaimed America's well-known policy toward the European States: "Friendship with all, entangling alliances with none." The material prosperity of the country increased rapidly. Eli Whitney invented the cotton-gin, which made cotton cultivation so remunerative that the South grew rich, and also, alas, became wedded to the system of slavery under which it was supposed cotton could best be produced.[24]

For eight years Washington guided the destinies of the infant nation, and then resigned his authority to one of his lieutenants. So that really the great leader's influence continued predominant until he died in December, 1799. Already however the more radical of Americans were grown restive under his restraining hand. Federalism, conservatism, was losing its control upon the national counsels, a change toward wider and more radical democracy was at hand.

OVERTHROW OF DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE

The year of 1799 saw also a great change in France, but in the opposite direction, away from democracy and back toward absolutism. The French government, grown rash with its marvellous victories, had dared to despatch Bonaparte, its ablest general, on an ill-considered and somewhat fanciful expedition to distant Egypt. There his fleet was destroyed by the English admiral, Nelson, in the celebrated Battle of the Nile, and he and his army were left practically prisoners in Egypt.[25]

Deprived of his genius at home, French military affairs went badly. Monarchy rallied from its momentary depression. Russian troops drove the French from Switzerland; Germans defeated them along the Rhine. The Constitutional government in Paris was proving impracticable, its members incompetent. Bonaparte saw his opportunity. Leaving his army in Egypt, he escaped the British and returned alone to France. In Paris he summoned the soldiers around him, entered the hall of the assembly, and, much as Cromwell had once done in England, bade the wrangling members disperse. Then he constructed a new government, which he still called a republic. But as he himself was to be First Consul, with almost all power in his own hands, the Government proved in reality as complete an absolutism as that of Richelieu or Louis XIV. The first European attempt at democracy had perished. The new century was to learn what this suddenly risen dictator would establish in its stead.

[FOR THE NEXT SECTION OF THIS GENERAL SURVEY SEE VOLUME XV]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See Battle of Lexington, page [1].

[2] See Battle of Bunker Hill, page [19].

[3] See Signing of American Declaration of Independence, page 39.

[4] See Canada Remains Loyal to England, page [30].

[5] See Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga, page [51].

[6] See First Victory of the American Navy, page [68].

[7] See British Defence of Gibraltar, page [116].

[8] See Siege and Surrender of Yorktown, page [97].

[9] See Close of the American Revolution, page [137].

[10] See Settlement of American Loyalists in Canada, page [156].

[11] See Joseph II Attempts Reform in Hungary, page [85].

[12] See French Revolution: Storming of the Bastille, page [212].

[13] See Republican France Defies Europe: Battle of Valmy, page [252].

[14] See Execution of Louis XVI: Murder of Marat: Civil War in France, page [295].

[15] See The Reign of Terror, page [311].

[16] See The Rise of Napoleon: The French Conquest of Italy, page [339].

[17] See The Downfall of Poland, page [330].

[18] See Negro Revolution in Haiti, page [236].

[19] See First Balloon Ascension, page [63].

[20] See Jenner Introduces Vaccination, page [363].

[21] See Framing of the Constitution of the United States, page [173].

[22] See Inauguration of Washington: His Farewell Address, page [197].

[23] See Hamilton Establishes the United States Bank, page 230.

[24] See Invention of the Cotton-gin, page [271].

[25] See Overthrow of the Mamelukes: The Battle of the Nile, page [353].


BATTLE OF LEXINGTON

a.d. 1775

RICHARD FROTHINGHAM

April 19, 1775, is memorable in American history as the day on which occurred the first bloodshed of the Revolution. The two combats of the day—that at Lexington and that at Concord—really constituted one action, which ended in a long running fight. As a single action, it is usually called the Battle of Lexington. The engagement at Concord, separately considered, is called the Battle of Concord, or the Concord Fight.

At both places, on that fateful day, "the embattled farmers" faced the troops of their own sovereign, to resist what was felt to be an unwarranted and menacing invasion of American liberties. While the soldiers of King George were doing their own loyal duty, the New England yeomen who "fired the shot heard round the world" obeyed a conviction still more compelling. Hence came the first physical struggle in what was already an "irrepressible conflict" of principle between Englishmen and their kinsmen on the American continent.

The Revolutionary War was begun on the part of the Americans for the redress of grievances for which they had exhausted all peaceable endeavors to secure a remedy. It was afterward successfully waged for independence. Repressive measures of Great Britain in the colonies began with the issuance by colonial courts of "writs of assistance." These writs authorized officers to summon assistance in searching certain premises under certain laws. In the first attempt to enforce such a writ—in Massachusetts, 1761—the policy was defeated through popular opposition, brilliantly led by James Otis, who by a single speech produced such an effect that John Adams said of the occasion: "Then and there was the first scene of the first act of opposition to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain. Then and there the child Independence was born."

Later grievances were those of the Stamp Act (1765), taxes on paints, glass, etc. (1767), and the Boston Port Bill (1774), ordering the closing of the port on account of the rebellious acts of the citizens, especially in the "tea-party" of December 16, 1773, when they threw into the waters of the harbor from English ships tea valued at eighteen thousand pounds. As early as 1770 had occurred the "Boston Massacre," a collision between citizens and British soldiers, which added to earlier discontents and increased the sensitiveness to later irritations.

The first Continental Congress, in 1774, though strongly pacific, favored resistance to aggressions of the Crown. During this year and the next two Provincial Congresses met in Massachusetts, the collection of military stores was authorized, a committee of safety was created, and the "minute-men" were organized.

General Gage, the British commander in Boston, denounced these proceedings as treasonable. Parliament vainly sought to adjust the difficulties and enforce its authority. Conciliatory efforts on both sides failing, it soon became evident that a conflict of arms was at hand. By April 4, 1775, it was known in Boston that reënforcements were on their way to General Gage. Soon after their arrival he was ready for the movement with which the narrative of Frothingham, a high authority on these events, begins.

General Gage had, in the middle of April, 1775, about four thousand men in Boston. He resolved, by a secret expedition, to destroy the magazines collected at Concord. This measure was neither advised by his council nor by his officers. It was said that he was worried into it by the importunities of the Tories; but it was undoubtedly caused by the energetic measures of the Whigs. His own subsequent justification was that when he saw an assembly of men, unknown to the Constitution, wresting from him the public moneys and collecting warlike stores, it was alike his duty and the dictate of humanity to prevent the calamity of civil war by destroying these magazines. His previous belief was that should the Government show a respectable force in the field, seize the most obnoxious patriot leaders, and proclaim a pardon for others, it would come off victorious.

On April 15th the grenadiers and light infantry, on the pretence of learning a new military exercise, were relieved from duty; and at night the boats of the transport ships which had been hauled up to be repaired were launched and moored under the sterns of the men-of-war. These movements looked suspicious to the vigilant patriots, and Dr. Joseph Warren sent intelligence of them to Hancock and Adams, who were in Lexington. It was this timely notice that induced the committee of safety to take additional measures for the security of the stores in Concord, and to order (on the 17th) cannon to be secreted, and a part of the stores to be removed to Sudbury and Groton.

On Tuesday, April 18th, General Gage directed several officers to station themselves on the roads leading out of Boston, and prevent any intelligence of his intended expedition that night from reaching the country. A party of them, on that day, dined at Cambridge. The committees of safety and supplies, which usually held their sessions together, also met that day, at Wetherby's Tavern, in Menotomy, now West Cambridge. Elbridge Gerry and Colonels Orne and Lee, of the members, remained to pass the night. Richard Devens and Abraham Watson rode in a chaise toward Charlestown, but, soon meeting a number of British officers on horseback, they returned to inform their friends at the tavern, waited there until the officers rode by, and then rode to Charlestown. Gerry immediately sent an express to Hancock and Adams, that "eight or nine officers were out, suspected of some evil design," which caused precautionary measures to be adopted at Lexington.

Richard Devens, an efficient member of the committee of safety, soon received intelligence that the British troops were in motion in Boston, and were certainly preparing to go into the country. Shortly after, the signal agreed upon in this event was given, namely, a lantern hung out from the North Church steeple in Boston, when Devens immediately despatched an express with this intelligence to Menotomy and Lexington. All this while General Gage supposed his movements were a profound secret, and as such in the evening communicated them in confidence to Lord Percy. But as this nobleman was crossing the Common on his way to his quarters he joined a group of men engaged in conversation, when one said, "The British troops have marched, but will miss their aim!"

"What aim?" inquired Lord Percy.

"Why, the cannon at Concord." He hastened back to General Gage with this information, when orders were immediately issued that no person should leave town. Dr. Warren, however, a few minutes previous, had sent Paul Revere and William Dawes into the country. Revere, about eleven o'clock, rowed across the river to Charlestown, was supplied by Richard Devens with a horse, and started to alarm the country. Just outside of Charlestown Neck he barely escaped capture by British officers; but leaving one of them in a clay-pit, he got to Medford, awoke the captain of the minute-men, gave the alarm on the road, and reached the Rev. Jonas Clark's house in safety, where the evening before a guard of eight men had been stationed to protect Hancock and Adams.

It was midnight as Revere rode up and requested admittance. William Monroe, the sergeant, told him that the family, before retiring to rest, had requested that they might not be disturbed by noise about the house. "Noise!" replied Revere; "you'll have noise enough before long—the regulars are coming out!" He was then admitted. Dawes, who went out through Roxbury, soon joined him. Their intelligence was "that a large body of the King's troops, supposed to be a brigade of twelve or fifteen hundred, had embarked in boats from Boston, and gone over to Lechmere's Point, in Cambridge, and it was suspected they were ordered to seize and destroy the stores belonging to the colony, then deposited at Concord."

The town of Lexington, Major Phinney writes, is "about twelve miles northwest of Boston and six miles southeast of Concord. It was originally a part of Cambridge, and previous to its separation from that town was called the Cambridge Farms." The act of incorporation bears date March 20, 1712. The inhabitants consist principally of hardy and independent yeomanry. In 1775 the list of enrolled militia bore the names of over one hundred citizens. The road leading from Boston divides near the centre of the village in Lexington. The part leading to Concord passes to the left, and that leading to Bedford to the right, of the meeting-house, and form two sides of a triangular green or common, on the south corner of which stands the meeting-house, facing directly down the road leading to Boston. At the right of the meeting-house, on the opposite side of Bedford road, was Buckman's Tavern.

About one o'clock the Lexington alarm-men and militia were summoned to meet at their usual place of parade, on the Common; and messengers were sent toward Cambridge for additional information. When the militia assembled, about two o'clock in the morning, Captain John Parker, its commander, ordered the roll to be called, and the men to load with powder and ball. About one hundred thirty were now assembled with arms. One of the messengers soon returned with the report that there was no appearance of troops on the roads; and the weather being chilly, the men, after being on parade some time, were dismissed with orders to appear again at the beat of the drum. They dispersed into houses near the place of parade—the greater part going into Buckman's Tavern. It was generally supposed that the movements in Boston were only a feint to alarm the people.

Revere and Dawes started to give the alarm in Concord, and soon met Dr. Samuel Prescott, a warm patriot, who agreed to assist in arousing the people. While they were thus engaged they were suddenly met by a party of officers, well armed and mounted, when a scuffle ensued, during which Revere was captured; but Prescott, by leaping a stone-wall, made his escape. The same officers had already detained three citizens of Lexington, who had been sent out the preceding evening to watch their movements. All the prisoners, after being questioned closely, were released near Lexington, when Revere rejoined Hancock and Adams, and went with them toward Woburn, two miles from Clark's house.

While these things were occurring, the British regulars were marching toward Concord. Lieutenant-Colonel Smith, at the head of about eight hundred troops—grenadiers, light infantry, and marines—embarked about ten o'clock at the foot of Boston Common, in the boats of the ships of war. They landed, just as the moon arose, at Phipps' Farm, now Lechmere Point, took an unfrequented path over the marshes, where in some places they had to wade through water, and entered the old Charlestown and West Cambridge road. No martial sounds enlivened their midnight march; it was silent, stealthy, inglorious. The members of the "Rebel Congress" arose from their beds at the tavern in Menotomy, to view them. They saw the front pass on with the regularity of veteran discipline. But when the centre was opposite the window, an officer and file of men were detached toward the house. Gerry, Orne, and Lee, half-dressed as they were, then took the hint and escaped to an adjoining field, while the British in vain searched the house.

Colonel Smith had marched but few miles when the sounds of guns and bells gave the evidence that, notwithstanding the caution of General Gage, the country was alarmed. He detached six companies of light infantry, under the command of Major Pitcairn, with orders to press forward and secure the two bridges at Concord, while he sent a messenger to Boston for a reënforcement. The party of officers who had been out joined the detachment, with the exaggerated report that five hundred men were in arms to oppose the King's forces. Major Pitcairn, as he advanced, succeeded in capturing everyone on the road until he arrived within a mile and a half of Lexington Meeting-house, when Thaddeus Bowman succeeded in eluding the advancing troops, and, galloping to the Common, gave the first certain intelligence to Captain Parker of their approach.

It was now about half-past four in the morning. Captain Parker ordered the drum to beat, alarm-guns to be fired, and Sergeant William Monroe to form his company in two ranks a few rods north of the meeting-house. It was a part of "the constitutional army," which was authorized to make a regular and forcible resistance to any open hostility by the British troops; and it was for this purpose that this gallant and devoted band on this memorable morning appeared on the field. Whether it ought to maintain its ground or whether it ought to retreat would depend upon the bearing and numbers of the regulars. It was not long in suspense. At a short distance from the parade-ground the British officers, regarding the American drum as a challenge, ordered their troops to halt, to prime and load, and then to march forward in double-quick time.

Meantime sixty or seventy of the militia had collected, and about forty spectators, a few of whom had arms. Captain Parker ordered his men not to fire unless they were fired upon. A part of his company had time to form in a military position facing the regulars; but while some were joining the ranks and others were dispersing, the British troops rushed on, shouting and firing, and their officers—among whom was Major Pitcairn—exclaiming, "Ye villains! ye rebels! disperse!" "Lay down your arms!" "Why don't you lay down your arms?" The militia did not instantly disperse nor did they proceed to lay down their arms.

The first guns, few in number, did no execution. A general discharge followed, with fatal results. A few of the militia who had been wounded, or who saw others killed or wounded by their side, no longer hesitated, but returned the fire of the regulars. Jonas Parker, John Monroe, and Ebenezer Monroe, Jr., and others, fired before leaving the line; Solomon Brown and James Brown fired from behind a stone wall; one other person fired from the back door of Buckman's house; Nathan Monroe, Lieutenant Benjamin Tidd and others retreated a short distance and fired. Meantime the regulars continued their fire as long as the militia remained in sight, killing eight and wounding ten. Jonas Parker, who repeatedly said he never would run from the British, was wounded at the second fire, but he still discharged his gun, and was killed by a bayonet. "A truer heart did not bleed at Thermopylæ."

Isaac Muzzy, Jonathan Harrington, and Robert Monroe were also killed on or near the place where the line was formed. "Harrington's was a cruel fate. He fell in front of his own house, on the north of the Common. His wife at the window saw him fall and then start up, the blood gushing from his breast. He stretched out his hands toward her as if for assistance, and fell again. Rising once more on his hands and knees, he crawled across the road toward his dwelling. She ran to meet him at the door, but it was to see him expire at her feet."

Monroe was the standard-bearer of his company at the capture of Louisburg. Caleb Harrington was killed as he was running from the meeting-house after replenishing his stock of powder; Samuel Hadley and John Brown, after they had left the Common; Asahel Porter, of Woburn, who had been taken prisoner by the British as he was endeavoring to effect his escape.

The British suffered but little; a private of the Tenth regiment and probably one other were wounded, and Major Pitcairn's horse was struck. Some of the Provincials retreated up the road leading to Bedford, but most of them across a swamp to a rising ground north of the Common. The British troops formed on the Common, fired a volley, and gave three huzzas in token of victory. Colonel Smith, with the remainder of the troops, soon joined Major Pitcairn, and the whole detachment marched toward Concord, about six miles distant, which it reached without further interruption. After it left Lexington six of the regulars were taken prisoners.

Concord was described in 1775, by Ensign Berniere, as follows: "It lies between two hills, that command it entirely. There is a river runs through it, with two bridges over it. In summer it is pretty dry. The town is large, and contains a church, jail, and court-house; but the houses are not close together, but in little groups." The road from Lexington entered Concord from the southeast along the side of a hill, which commences on the right of it about a mile below the village, rises abruptly from thirty to fifty feet above the road, and terminates at the northeasterly part of the square. The top forms a plain, which commands a view of the town. Here was the liberty-pole. The court-house stood near the present county-house. The main branch of the Concord River flows sluggishly, in a serpentine direction, on the westerly and northerly side of the village, about half a mile from its centre. This river was crossed by two bridges—one called the Old South bridge—the other, by the Rev. William Emerson's, called the Old North bridge. The road beyond the North bridge led to Colonel James Barrett's, about two miles from the centre of the town.

Dr. Samuel Prescott, whose escape has been related, gave the alarm in Lincoln and Concord. It was between one and two o'clock in the morning when the quiet community of Concord were aroused from their slumbers by the sounds of the church-bell. The committee of safety, the military officers, and prominent citizens assembled for consultation. Messengers were despatched toward Lexington for information; the militia and minute-men were formed on the customary parade-ground near the meeting-house; and the inhabitants, with a portion of the militia, under the able superintendence of Colonel Barrett, zealously labored in removing the military stores into the woods and by-places for safety. These scenes were novel and distressing; and among others, Rev. William Emerson, the patriotic clergyman, mingled with the people, and gave counsel and comfort to the terrified women and children.

Reuben Brown, one of the messengers sent to obtain information, returned with the startling intelligence that the British regulars had fired upon his countrymen at Lexington, and were on their march for Concord. It was determined to go out to meet them. A part of the military of Lincoln—the minute-men, under Captain William Smith, and the militia, under Captain Samuel Farrar—had joined the Concord people; and after parading on the Common, some of the companies marched down the Lexington road until they saw the British two miles from the centre of the town. Captain Minot, with the alarm company, remained in town, and took possession of the hill near the liberty-pole. He had no sooner gained it, however, than the companies that had gone down the road returned with the information that the number of the British was treble that of the Americans. The whole then fell back to an eminence about eighty rods distance, back of the town, where they formed in two battalions. Colonel Barrett, the commander, joined them here, having previously been engaged in removing the stores. They had scarcely formed when the British troops appeared in sight at the distance of a quarter of a mile, and advancing with great celerity—their arms glittering in the splendor of early sunshine. But little time remained for deliberation. Some were in favor of resisting the further approach of the troops; while others, more prudent, advised a retreat and a delay until further reënforcements should arrive. Colonel Barrett ordered the militia to retire over the North bridge to a commanding eminence about a mile from the centre of the town.

The British troops then marched into Concord in two divisions—one by the main road, and the other on the hill north of it, from which the Americans had just retired. They were posted in the following manner:

The grenadiers and light infantry, under the immediate command of Colonel Smith, remained in the centre of the town. Captain Parsons, with six light companies, about two hundred men, was detached to secure the North bridge and to destroy stores, who stationed three companies, under Captain Laurie, at the bridge, and proceeded with the other three companies to the residence of Colonel Barrett, about two miles distant, to destroy the magazines deposited there. Captain Pole, with a party, was sent, for a similar purpose, to the South bridge. The British met with but partial success in the work of destruction, in consequence of the diligent concealment of the stores. In the centre of the town they broke open about sixty barrels of flour, nearly half of which was subsequently saved; knocked off the trunnions of three iron twenty-four-pound cannon, and burned sixteen new carriage-wheels and a few barrels of wooden trenchers and spoons. They cut down the liberty-pole, and set the court-house on fire, which was put out, however, by the exertions of Mrs. Moulton. The parties at the South bridge and at Colonel Barrett's met with poor success. While engaged in this manner the report of guns at the North bridge put a stop to their proceedings.

The British troops had been in Concord about two hours. During this time the minute-men from the neighboring towns had been constantly arriving on the high grounds, a short distance from the North bridge, until they numbered about four hundred fifty. They were formed in line by Joseph Hosmer, who acted as adjutant. It is difficult, if not impossible, to ascertain certainly what companies were present thus early in the day. They came from Carlisle, from Chelmsford, from Westford, from Littleton, and from Acton. The minute-men of Acton were commanded by Captain Isaac Davis, a brave and energetic man. Most of the operations of the British troops were visible from this place of rendezvous, and several fires were seen in the middle of the town. Anxious apprehensions were then felt for its fate. A consultation of officers and of prominent citizens was held. It was probably during this conference that Captain William Smith, of Lincoln, volunteered, with his company, to dislodge the British guard at the North bridge. Captain Isaac Davis, as he returned from it to his ranks, also remarked, "I haven't a man that's afraid to go." The result of this council was that it was expedient to dislodge the guard at the North bridge. Colonel Barrett accordingly ordered the militia to march to it, and to pass it, but not to fire on the King's troops unless they were fired upon. He designated Major John Buttrick to lead the companies to effect this object. Lieutenant-Colonel Robinson volunteered to accompany him. On the march Major Buttrick requested Colonel Robinson to act as his superior, but he generously declined.

It was nearly ten o'clock in the morning when the Provincials, about three hundred in number, arrived near the river. The company from Acton was in front, and Major Buttrick, Colonel Robinson, and Captain Davis were at their head. Captains David Brown, Charles Miles, Nathan Barrett, and William Smith, with their companies, and also other companies, fell into the line. Their positions, however, are not precisely known. They marched in double file, and with trailed arms. The British guard, under Captain Laurie, about one hundred in number, were then on the west side of the river, but on seeing the Provincials approach they retired over the bridge to the east side of the river, formed as if for a fight, and began to take up the planks of the bridge. Major Buttrick remonstrated against this and ordered his men to hasten their march.

When they had arrived within a few rods of the bridge the British began to fire upon them. The first guns, few in number, did no execution; others followed with deadly effect. Luther Blanchard, a fifer in the Acton company, was first wounded; and afterward Captain Isaac Davis and Abner Hosmer, of the same company, were killed. On seeing the fire take effect Major Buttrick exclaimed, "Fire, fellow-soldiers! for God's sake, fire!" The Provincials then fired, and killed one and wounded several of the enemy. The fire lasted but a few minutes. The British immediately retreated in great confusion toward the main body—a detachment from which was soon on its way to meet them. The Provincials pursued them over the bridge, when one of the wounded of the British was cruelly killed by a hatchet.

Part of the Provincials soon turned to the left, and ascended the hill on the east of the main road, while another portion returned to the high grounds, carrying with them the remains of the gallant Davis and Hosmer. Military order was broken, and many who had been on duty all the morning and were hungry and fatigued improved the time to take refreshment. Meantime the party under Captain Parsons—who was piloted by Ensign Berniere—returned from Captain Barrett's house, repassed the bridge where the skirmish took place, and saw the bodies of their companions, one of which was mangled. It would have been easy for the Provincials to have cut them off. But war had not been declared; and it is evident that it had not been fully resolved to attack the British troops. Hence this party of about one hundred were allowed, unmolested, to join the main body. Colonel Smith concentrated his force, obtained conveyances for the wounded, and occupied about two hours in making preparations to return to Boston—a delay that nearly proved fatal to the whole detachment.

While these great events were occurring at Lexington and Concord, the intelligence of the hostile march of the British troops was spreading rapidly through the country; and hundreds of local communities, animated by the same determined and patriotic spirit, were sending out their representatives to the battle-field. The minute-men, organized and ready for action, promptly obeyed the summons to parade. They might wait in some instances to receive a parting blessing from their minister, or to take leave of weeping friends; but in all the roads leading to Concord, they were hurrying to the scene of action. They carried the firelock that had fought the Indian, and the drum that beat at Louisburg; and they were led by men who had served under Wolfe at Quebec. As they drew near the places of bloodshed and massacre they learned that in both cases the regulars had been the aggressors—"had fired the first"—and they were deeply touched by the slaughter of their brethren. Now the British had fairly passed the Rubicon. If any still counselled forbearance, moderation, peace, the words were thrown away. The assembling bands felt that the hour had come in which to hurl back the insulting charges on their courage that had been repeated for years, and to make good the solemn words of their public bodies. And they determined to attack on their return the invaders of their native soil.

Colonel Smith, about twelve o'clock, commenced his march for Boston. His left was covered by a strong flank-guard that kept the height of land that borders the Lexington road, leading to Merriam's Corner; his right was protected by a brook; the main body marched in the road. The British soon saw how thoroughly the country had been alarmed. It seemed, one of them writes, that "men had dropped from the clouds," so full were the hills and roads of the minute-men. The Provincials left the high grounds near the North bridge and went across the pastures known as "the Great Fields," to Bedford road. Here the Reading minute-men, under Major Brooks, afterward Governor Brooks, joined them; and a few minutes after, Colonel William Thompson, with a body of militia from Billerica and vicinity, came up. It is certain, from the diaries and petitions of this period, that minute-men from other towns also came up in season to fire upon the British while leaving Concord.

The Reverend Foster, who was with the Reading company, relates the beginning of the afternoon contest in the following manner: "A little before we came to Merriam's hill we discovered the enemy's flank-guard, of about eighty or one hundred men, who, on their retreat from Concord, kept that height of land, the main body in the road. The British troops and the Americans at that time were equally distant from Merriam's Corner. About twenty rods short of that place the Americans made a halt. The British marched down the hill, with very slow but steady step, without music, or a word being spoken that could be heard. Silence reigned on both sides. As soon as the British had gained the main road, and passed a small bridge near that corner, they faced about suddenly and fired a volley of musketry upon us. They overshot; and no one, to my knowledge, was injured by the fire. The fire was immediately returned by the Americans, and two British soldiers fell dead, at a little distance from each other, in the road, near the brook."

The battle now began in earnest, and as the British troops retreated a severe fire was poured in upon them from every favorable position. Near Hardy's hill, the Sudbury company, led by Captain Nathaniel Cudworth, attacked them, and there was a severe skirmish below Brooks' Tavern on the old road north of the school-house. The woods lined both sides of the road which the British had to pass, and it was filled with the minute-men. "The enemy," says Mr. Foster, "was now completely between two fires, renewed and briskly kept up. They ordered out a flank-guard on the left to dislodge the Americans from their posts behind large trees, but they only became a better mark to be shot at." A short and sharp battle ensued. And for three or four miles along these woody defiles the British suffered terribly. Woburn had "turned out extraordinary"; it sent out a force one hundred eighty strong, "well armed and resolved in defence of the common cause." Major Loammi Baldwin, afterward Colonel Baldwin, was with this body. At Tanner brook, at Lincoln bridge, they concluded to scatter, make use of the trees and walls as defences, and thus attack the British. And in this way they kept on pursuing and flanking them. In Lincoln, also, Captain Parker's brave Lexington company again appeared in the field, and did efficient service. "The enemy," says Colonel Baldwin, "marched very fast, and left many dead and wounded and a few tired." Eight were buried in Lincoln graveyard. It was at this time that Captain Jonathan Wilson, of Bedford, Nathaniel Wyman, of Billerica, and Daniel Thompson, of Woburn, were killed.

In Lexington, at Fiske's hill, an officer on a fine horse, with a drawn sword in his hand, was actively engaged in directing the troops, when a number of the pursuers, from behind a pile of rails, fired at him with effect. The officer fell, and the horse, in affright, leaped the wall, and ran toward those who had fired. It was here that Lieutenant-Colonel Smith was severely wounded in the leg. At the foot of this hill a personal contest between James Hayward, of Acton, and a British soldier took place. The Briton drew up his gun, remarking, "You are a dead man!" "And so are you!" answered Hayward. The former was killed. Hayward was mortally wounded and died the next day.

The British troops, when they arrived within a short distance of Lexington Meeting-house, again suffered severely from the close pursuit and the sharp fire of the Provincials. Their ammunition began to fail, while their light companies were so fatigued as to be almost unfitted for service. The large number of wounded created confusion, and many of the troops rather ran than marched in order. For some time the officers in vain tried to restore discipline. They saw the confusion increase under their efforts, until, at last, they placed themselves in front, and threatened the men with death if they advanced. This desperate exertion, made under a heavy fire, partially restored order. The detachment, however, must have soon surrendered had it not in its extreme peril found shelter in the hollow square of a reënforcement sent to their relief.

General Gage received, early in the morning, a request from Colonel Smith for a reënforcement. About nine o'clock he detached three regiments of infantry and two divisions of marines, with two field-pieces, under Lord Percy, to support the grenadiers and light infantry. Lord Percy marched through Roxbury, to the tune of Yankee Doodle to the great alarm of the country. To prevent or to impede his march, the select-men of Cambridge had the planks of the Old bridge, over which he was obliged to pass, taken up; but instead of being removed, they were piled on the causeway on the Cambridge side of the river. Hence Lord Percy found no difficulty in replacing them so as to admit his troops to cross. But a convoy of provisions was detained until it was out of the protection of the main body. This was captured at West Cambridge. According to Gordon, Rev. Dr. Payson led this party. David Lamson, a half-Indian, distinguished himself in the affair. Percy's brigade met the harassed and retreating troops about two o'clock, within half a mile of Lexington Meeting-house. "They were so much exhausted with fatigue," the British historian Stedman writes, "that they were obliged to lie down for rest on the ground, their tongues hanging out of their mouths like those of dogs after a chase." The field-pieces from the high ground below Monroe's Tavern played on the Provincials, and for a short period there was, save the discharge of cannon, a cessation of battle. From this time, however, the troops committed the most wanton destruction. Three houses, two shops, and a barn were laid in ashes in Lexington; buildings on the route were defaced and plundered, and individuals were grossly abused.

At this time, Dr. Warren and General Heath were active in the field, directing and encouraging the militia. General Heath was one of the generals who were authorized to take the command when the minute-men should be called out. On his way to the scene of action he ordered the militia of Cambridge to make a barricade of the planks of the bridge, take post there, and oppose the retreat of the British in that direction from Boston. At Lexington, when the minute-men were somewhat checked and scattered by Percy's field-pieces, he labored to form them into military order. Dr. Warren, about ten o'clock, rode on horseback through Charlestown. He had received by express intelligence of the events of the morning, and told the citizens of Charlestown that the news of the firing was true. Among others he met Dr. Welsh, who said, "Well, they are gone out." "Yes," replied the doctor, "and we'll be up with them before night."

Lord Percy had now under his command about eighteen hundred troops of undoubted bravery and of veteran discipline. He evinced no disposition, however, to turn upon his assailants and make good the insulting boasts of his associates. After a short interval of rest and refreshment the British recommenced their retreat. Then the Provincials renewed their attack. In West Cambridge the skirmishing again became sharp and bloody and the troops increased their atrocities. Jason Russell, an invalid and a noncombatant, was barbarously butchered in his own house. In this town a mother was killed while nursing her child. Others were driven from their dwellings, and their dwellings were pillaged. Here the Danvers company, which marched in advance of the Essex regiment, met the enemy. Some took post in a walled enclosure, and made a breastwork of bundles of shingles; others planted themselves behind trees on the side of the hill west of the meeting-house. The British came along in solid column on their right, while a large flank guard came up on their left. The Danvers men were surrounded, and many were killed and wounded. Here Samuel Whittemore was shot and bayoneted, and left for dead. Here Dr. Eliphalet Downer, in single combat with a soldier, killed him with a bayonet. Here a musket-ball struck a pin out of the hair of Dr. Warren's earlock.

The wanton destruction of life and property that marked the course of the invaders added revenge to the natural bravery of the minute-men. "Indignation and outraged humanity struggled on the one hand; veteran discipline and desperation on the other." The British had many struck in West Cambridge, and left an officer wounded in the house still standing at the rail-road depot. The British troops took the road that winds round Prospect hill. When they entered this part of Charlestown their situation was critical. The large numbers of the wounded proved a distressing obstruction to their progress, while they had but few rounds of ammunition left. Their field-pieces had lost their terror. The main body of the Provincials hung closely on their rear; a strong force was advancing upon them from Roxbury, Dorchester, and Milton; while Colonel Pickering, with the Essex militia, seven hundred strong, threatened to cut off their retreat to Charlestown.

Near Prospect hill the fire again became sharp and the British again had recourse to their field-pieces. James Miller, of Charlestown, was killed here. Along its base, Lord Percy, it is stated, received the hottest fire he had during his retreat. General Gage, about sunset, might have beheld his harassed troops, almost on the run, coming down the old Cambridge road to Charlestown Neck, anxious to get under the protection of the guns of the ships-of-war. The minute-men closely followed, but, when they reached the Charlestown Common, General Heath ordered them to stop the pursuit.

Charlestown, throughout the day, presented a scene of intense excitement and great confusion. It was known early in the morning that the regulars were out. Rumors soon arrived of the events that had occurred at Lexington. The schools were dismissed, and citizens gathered in groups in the streets. After Dr. Warren rode through the town, and gave the certain intelligence of the slaughter at Lexington, a large number went out to the field, and the greater part who remained were women and children. Hon. James Russell received, in the afternoon, a note from General Gage to the effect that he had been informed that citizens had gone out armed to oppose his majesty's troops, and that if a single man more went out armed the most disagreeable consequences might be expected. It was next reported, and correctly, that Cambridge bridge had been taken up, and that hence the regulars would be obliged to return to Boston through the town. Many then prepared to leave, and every vehicle was employed to carry away their most valuable effects. Others, however, still believing the troops would return the way they went out, determined to remain, and in either event to abide the worst. Just before sunset the noise of distant firing was heard, and soon the British troops were seen in the Cambridge road.

The inhabitants then rushed toward the neck. Some crossed Mystic River, at Penny Ferry. Some ran along the marsh, toward Medford. The troops, however, soon approached the town, firing as they came along. A lad, Edward Barber, was killed on the neck. The inhabitants then turned back into the town panic-stricken.

Word ran through the crowd that "the British were massacring the women and children!" Some remained in the streets, speechless with terror; some ran to the clay-pits, back of Breed's Hill, where they passed the night. The troops, however, offered no injury to the inhabitants. Their officers directed the women and children, half-distracted with fright, to go into their houses, and they would be safe, but requested them to hand out drink to the troops. The main body occupied Bunker Hill, and formed a line opposite the neck. Additional troops also were sent over from Boston. The officers flocked to the tavern in the square, where the cry was for drink. Guards were stationed in various parts of the town. One was placed at the neck, with orders to permit no one to go out. Everything, during the night, was quiet. Some of the wounded were carried over immediately, in the boats of the Somerset, to Boston. General Pigot had the command in Charlestown the next day, when the troops all returned to their quarters.

The Americans lost forty-nine killed, thirty-nine wounded, and five missing. A committee of the Provincial Congress estimated the value of the property destroyed by the ravages of the troops to be: In Lexington, £1761 15s. 5d.; in Concord, £274 16s. 7d.; in Cambridge, £1202 8s. 7d. Many petitions of persons who engaged the enemy on this day are on file. They lost guns or horses or suffered other damage. The General Court indemnified such losses.

The British lost seventy-three killed, one hundred seventy-four wounded, and twenty-six missing—the most of whom were taken prisoners. Of these, eighteen were officers, ten sergeants, two drummers, and two hundred forty were rank and file. Lieutenant Hall, wounded at the North bridge, was taken prisoner on the retreat, and died the next day. His remains were delivered to General Gage. Lieutenant Gould was wounded at the bridge, and taken prisoner, and was exchanged, May 28th, for Josiah Breed, of Lynn. He had a fortune of one thousand nine hundred pounds a year, and is said to have offered two thousand pounds for his ransom. The prisoners were treated with great humanity, and General Gage was notified that his own surgeons, if he desired it, might dress the wounded.


BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL

a.d. 1775

JOHN BURGOYNE JOHN H. JESSE JAMES GRAHAME

This action, which took place about two months after the Battle of Lexington, though resulting in the physical defeat of the Americans, proved for them a moral victory. As at Lexington and Concord, the colonial soldiers showed that they were prepared to stand their ground in defence of the cause which called them to arms, and Bunker Hill became a watchword of the Revolution. This event also made it clear that the contest must be fought out. Thenceforth the two sides in the war were sharply defined.

The immediate occasion of this battle was the necessity, as seen by the British general, Gage, of driving the Americans from an eminence commanding Boston. This elevation was one of several hills on a peninsula just north of the town and running out into the harbor. It was the intention of the Americans to seize and fortify Bunker Hill, but for some unexplained reason they took Breed's Hill, much nearer Boston, and there the battle was mainly fought. Breed's Hill is now usually called Bunker Hill, and upon it stands the Bunker Hill monument.

The following accounts of the battle are all from British writers; one is that of the English officer General Burgoyne, who was afterward defeated at Saratoga; another is by the English historical author Jesse, whose best work covers the reign of George III. The third is from James Grahame, a native of Glasgow, Scotland, who died in 1842, of whose History of America a high authority says: "The thoroughly American spirit in which it is written prevented the success of the book in England." The historian Prescott gave it high praise for accuracy and fairness.

JOHN BURGOYNE

Now ensued one of the greatest scenes of war that can be conceived. If we look to the height, Howe's corps, ascending the hill in face of intrenchments, and in a very disadvantageous ground, was much engaged; to the left the enemy, pouring in fresh troops by thousands over the land; and in the arm of the sea our ships and floating batteries, cannonading them. Straight before us a large and noble town[26] in one great blaze; and the church-steeples, being timber, were great pyramids of fire above the rest. Behind us the church-steeples and heights of our own camp covered with spectators of the rest of our army which was engaged; the hills round the country also covered with spectators; the enemy all in anxious suspense; the roar of cannon, mortars, and musketry; the crash of churches, ships upon the stocks, and whole streets falling together, to fill the ear; the storm of the redoubts, with the objects above described, to fill the eye; and the reflection that perhaps a defeat was a final loss to the British empire of America, to fill the mind, made the whole a picture and a complication of horror and importance beyond anything that ever came to my lot to witness.

JOHN HENEAGE JESSE

About 11 p.m. on June 16th a detachment of about a thousand men, who had previously joined solemnly together in prayer, ascended silently and stealthily a part of the heights known as Bunker Hill, situated within cannon range of Boston and commanding a view of every part of the town. This brigade was composed chiefly of husbandmen, who wore no uniform, and who were armed with fowling-pieces only, unequipped with bayonets. The person selected to command them on this daring service was one of the lords of the soil of Massachusetts, William Prescott, of Pepperell, the colonel of a Middlesex regiment of militia. "For myself," he said to his men, "I am resolved never to be taken alive." Preceded by two sergeants bearing dark-lanterns, and accompanied by his friends, Colonel Gridley and Judge Winthrop, the gallant Prescott, distinguished by his tall and commanding figure, though simply attired in his ordinary calico smock-frock, calmly and resolutely led the way to the heights. Those who followed him were not unworthy of their leader.

It was half-past eleven before the engineers commenced drawing the lines of the redoubt. As the first sod was being upturned, the clocks of Boston struck twelve. More than once during the night—which happened to be a beautifully calm and starry one—Colonel Prescott descended to the shore, where the sound of the British sentinels walking their rounds, and their exclamations of "All's well!" as they relieved guard, continued to satisfy him that they entertained no suspicion of what was passing above their heads. Before daybreak the Americans had thrown up an intrenchment, which extended from the Mystic to a redoubt on their left. The astonishment of Gage, when on the following morning he found this important site in the hands of the enemy, may be readily conceived. Obviously not a moment was to be lost in attempting to dislodge them; and accordingly a detachment, under General Howe, was at once ordered on this critical service.

In the mean time a heavy cannonade, first of all from the Lively (sloop-of-war), and afterward from a battery of heavy guns from Copp's hill, in Boston, was opened upon the Americans. Exposed, however, as they were to a storm of shot and shell, unaccustomed, as they also were, to face an enemy's fire, they nevertheless pursued their operations with the calm courage of veteran soldiers.

Late in the day, indeed, when the scorching sun rose high in the cloudless heavens, when the continuous labors of so many hours threatened to prostrate them, and when they waited, but waited in vain, for provisions and refreshments, the hearts of a few began to fail them, and the word retreat was suffered to escape from their lips. There was among them, however, a master spirit, whose cheering words and chivalrous example never failed to restore confidence. On the spot—where now a lofty column, overlooking the fair landscape and calm waters, commemorates the events of that momentous day—was then seen, conspicuous above the rest, the form of Prescott of Pepperell, in his calico frock, as he paced the parapet to and fro, instilling resolution into his followers by the contempt which he manifested for danger, and amid the hottest of the British fire delivering his orders with the same serenity as if he had been on parade. "Who is that person?" inquired Governor Gage of a Massachusetts gentleman, as they stood reconnoitring the American works from the opposite side of the river Charles. "My brother-in-law, Colonel Prescott," was the reply. "Will he fight?" asked Gage. "Ay," said the other, "to the last drop of his blood."

It was after 3 p.m. when General Howe's detachment, consisting of about two thousand men, landed at Charlestown and formed for the attack. Prescott's instructions to his men, as the British approached, were sufficiently brief. "The red-coats," he said, "will never reach the redoubt if you will but withhold your fire till I give the order, and be careful not to shoot over their heads." In the mean time, ascending the hill under the protection of a heavy cannonade, the British infantry had advanced unmolested to within a few yards of the enemy's works, when Prescott gave the word "Fire!" So promptly and effectually were his orders obeyed that nearly the whole front rank of the British fell. Volley after volley was now opened upon them from behind the intrenchments, till at length even the bravest began to waver and fall back; some of them, in spite of the threats and passionate entreaties of their officers, even retreating to the boats.

Minutes, many minutes apparently, elapsed before the British troops were rallied and returned to the attack, exposed to the burning rays of the sun, encumbered with heavy knapsacks containing provisions for three days, compelled to toil up very disadvantageous ground with grass reaching to their knees, clambering over rails and hedges, and led against men who were fighting from behind intrenchments and constantly receiving reënforcements by hundreds—few soldiers, perhaps, but British infantry would have been prevailed upon to renew the conflict. Again, however, they advanced to the charge; again, when within five or six rods of the redoubt, the same tremendous discharge of musketry was opened upon them; and again, in spite of many heroic examples of gallantry set them by their officers, they retreated in the same disorder as before.

By this time the grenadiers and light infantry had lost three-fourths of their men; some companies had only eight or nine men left, one or two had even fewer. When the Americans looked forth from their intrenchments the ground was literally covered with the wounded and dead. According to an American who was present, "the dead lay as thick as sheep in a fold." For a few seconds General Howe was left almost alone. Nearly every officer of his staff had been either killed or wounded. The Americans, who have done honorable justice to his gallantry, remarked that, conspicuous as he stood in his general officer's uniform, it was a marvel that he escaped unhurt. He retired, but it was with the stern resolve of a hero to rally his men—to return and vanquish.

The third and last attack made by General Howe upon the enemy's intrenchments appears to have taken place after a considerably longer interval than the previous one. This interval was employed by Prescott in addressing words of confidence and exhortation to his followers, to which their cheers returned an enthusiastic response. "If we drive them back once more," he said, "they cannot rally again." General Howe, in the mean time, by disencumbering his men of their knapsacks, and by bringing the British artillery to play so as to rake the interior of the American breastwork, had greatly enhanced his chances of success. Once more, at the word of command, in steady unbroken line, the British infantry mounted to the deadly struggle; once more the cheerful voice of Prescott exhorted his men to reserve their fire till their enemies were close upon them; once more the same deadly fire was poured down upon the advancing royalists. Again on their part there was a struggle, a pause, an indication of wavering; but on this occasion it was only momentary. Onward and headlong against breastwork and against vastly superior numbers dashed the British infantry, with a heroic devotion never surpassed in the annals of chivalry. Almost in a moment of time, in spite of a second volley as destructive as the first, the ditch was leaped and the parapet mounted.

In that final charge fell many of the bravest of the brave. Of the Fifty-second regiment alone, three captains, the moment they stood on the parapet, were shot down. Still the English infantry continued to pour forward, flinging themselves among the American militiamen, who met them with a gallantry equal to their own. The powder of the latter having by this time become nearly exhausted, they endeavored to force back their assailants with the butt-ends of their muskets. But the British bayonets carried all before them. Then it was, when further resistance was evidently fruitless, and not till then, that the heroic Prescott gave the order to retire. From the nature of the ground it was necessarily more a flight than a retreat. Many of the Americans, leaping over the walls of the parapet, attempted to fight their way through the British troops; while the majority endeavored to escape by the narrow entrance to the redoubt. In consequence of the fugitives being thus huddled together, the slaughter became terrific.

"Nothing," writes a young British officer, who was engaged in the mêlée, "could be more shocking than the carnage that followed the storming of this work. We tumbled over the dead to get at the living, who were crowding out of the gap of the redoubt, in order to form under the defences which they had prepared to cover their retreat." Prescott was one of the last to quit the scene of slaughter. Although more than one British bayonet had pierced his clothes, he escaped without a wound.

That night the British intrenched themselves on the heights, lying down in front of the recent scene of contest. The loss in killed and wounded was ten hundred fifty-four. According to the American account their loss was one hundred forty-five killed and three hundred four wounded; of their six pieces of artillery, they only succeeded in carrying off one.

Such was the result of the famous Battle of Bunker Hill, a contest from which Great Britain derived little advantage beyond the credit of having achieved a brilliant passage of arms, but which, on the other hand, produced the significant effect of manifesting, not only to the Americans themselves, but to Europe, that the colonists could fight with a steadiness and courage which ere long might render them capable of coping with the disciplined troops of the mother-country.

JAMES GRAHAME

About the latter part of May, a great part of the reënforcements ordered from Great Britain arrived at Boston. Three British generals, Howe, Burgoyne, and Clinton, whose behavior in the preceding war had gained them great reputation, arrived about the same time. General Gage, thus reënforced, prepared for acting with more decision; but before he proceeded to extremities, he conceived it due to ancient forms to issue a proclamation, holding forth to the inhabitants the alternative of peace or war. He therefore offered pardon, in the King's name, to all who should forthwith lay down their arms and return to their respective occupations and peaceable duties: excepting only from the benefit of that pardon "Samuel Adams and John Hancock, whose offences were said to be of too flagitious a nature to admit of any other consideration than that of condign punishment." He also proclaimed that not only the persons above named and excepted, but also all their adherents, associates, and correspondents, should be deemed guilty of treason and rebellion, and treated accordingly. By this proclamation it was also declared "that as the courts of judicature were shut, martial law should take place till a due course of justice should be reëstablished."

It was supposed that this proclamation was a prelude to hostilities; and preparations were accordingly made by the Americans. A considerable height, by the name of Bunker Hill, just at the entrance of the peninsula of Charlestown, was so situated as to make the possession of it a matter of great consequence to either of the contending parties. Orders were therefore issued, by the provincial commanders, that a detachment of a thousand men should intrench upon this height. By some mistake, Breed's Hill, high and large like the other, but situated nearer Boston, was marked out for the intrenchments, instead of Bunker Hill. The provincials proceeded to Breed's Hill and worked with so much diligence that between midnight and the dawn of the morning they had thrown up a small redoubt about eight rods square. They kept such a profound silence that they were not heard by the British, on board their vessels, though very near. These having derived their first information of what was going on from the sight of the works, early completed, began an incessant firing upon them.

The provincials bore this with firmness, and, though they were only young soldiers, continued to labor till they had thrown up a small breastwork extending from the east side of the redoubt to the bottom of the hill. As this eminence overlooked Boston, General Gage thought it necessary to drive the provincials from it. About noon, therefore, he detached Major-General Howe and Brigadier-General Pigot, with the flower of his army, consisting of four battalions, ten companies of the grenadiers and ten of light infantry, with a proportion of field artillery, to effect this business. These troops landed at Moreton's Point, and formed after landing, but remained in that position till they were reënforced by a second detachment of light infantry and grenadier companies, a battalion of land forces, and a battalion of marines, making in the whole nearly three thousand men. While the troops who first landed were waiting for this reënforcement, the provincials, for their further security, pulled up some adjoining post and rail fences, and set them down in two parallel lines at a small distance from each other, and filled the space between with hay, which, having been lately mowed, was found lying on the adjacent ground.

The King's troops formed in two lines, and advanced slowly to give their artillery time to demolish the American works. While the British were advancing to the attack they received orders to burn Charlestown. These were not given because they were fired upon from the houses in that town, but from the military policy of depriving enemies of a cover in their approaches. In a short time this ancient town, consisting of about five hundred buildings, chiefly of wood, was in one great blaze. The lofty steeple of the meeting-house formed a pyramid of fire above the rest, and struck the astonished eyes of numerous beholders with a magnificent but awful spectacle. In Boston the heights of every kind were covered with citizens, and such of the King's troops as were not on duty. The hills around the adjacent country, which afforded a safe and distinct view, were occupied by the inhabitants of the country.

Thousands, both within and without Boston, were anxious spectators of the bloody scene. Regard for the honor of the British army caused hearts to beat high in the breasts of many; while others, with keener sensibilities, sorrowed for the liberties of a great and growing country. The British moved on slowly, which gave the provincials a better opportunity for taking aim. The latter, in general, reserved their fire until their adversaries were within ten or twelve rods, and then began a furious discharge of small arms. The stream of the American fire was so incessant, and did so great execution, that the King's troops retreated with precipitation and disorder. Their officers rallied them and pushed them forward with their swords; but they returned to the attack with great reluctance. The Americans again reserved their fire till their adversaries were near, and then put them a second time to flight. General Howe and the officers redoubled their exertions, and were again successful, though the soldiers displayed a great aversion to going on. By this time the powder of the Americans began so far to fail that they were not able to keep up the same brisk fire. The British then brought some cannon to bear, which raked the inside of the breastwork from end to end. The fire from the ships, batteries, and field artillery was redoubled; the soldiers in the rear were goaded on by their officers. The redoubt was attacked on three sides at once. Under these circumstances a retreat from it was ordered, but the provincials delayed so long, and made resistance with their discharged muskets as if they had been clubs, that the King's troops, who had easily mounted the works, half filled the redoubt before it was given up to them.

While these operations were going on at the breastwork and redoubt, the British light infantry were attempting to force the left point of the former, that they might take the American line in flank. Though they exhibited the most undaunted courage, they met with an opposition which called for its greatest exertions. The provincials reserved their fire till their adversaries were near, and then discharged it upon the light infantry in such an incessant stream, and with so true an aim, as that it quickly thinned their ranks. The engagement was kept up on both sides with great resolution. The persevering exertions of the King's troops could not compel the Americans to retreat till they observed that their main body had left the hill. This, when begun, exposed them to new dangers; for it could not be effected but by marching over Charlestown Neck, every part of which was raked by the shot of the Glasgow (man-of-war) and of two floating batteries. The incessant fire kept up across the Neck prevented any considerable reënforcement from joining their countrymen who were engaged; but the few who fell on their retreat over the same ground proved that the apprehensions of those provincial officers, who declined passing over to succor their companies, were without any solid foundation.

The number of Americans engaged amounted only to fifteen hundred. It was apprehended that the conquerors would push the advantage they had gained, and march immediately to American head-quarters at Cambridge; but they advanced no farther than Bunker Hill. There they threw up works for their own security. The provincials did the same, on Prospect Hill, in front of them. Both were guarding against an attack; and both were in a bad condition to receive one. The loss of the peninsula depressed the spirits of the Americans; and the great loss of men produced the same effect on the British. There have been few battles in modern wars in which, all circumstances considered, there was a greater destruction of men than in this short engagement.

The loss of the British, as acknowledged by General Gage, amounted to one thousand fifty-four. Nineteen commissioned officers were killed and seventy more were wounded. The Battle of Quebec, in 1759, which gave Great Britain the colony of Canada, was not so destructive to British officers as this affair of a slight intrenchment, the work only of a few hours. That the officers suffered so much must be imputed to their being aimed at. None of the provincials in this engagement were riflemen, but they were all good marksmen. The whole of their previous military knowledge had been derived from hunting and the ordinary amusements of sportsmen. The dexterity which by long habit they had acquired in hitting beast, birds, and marks, was fatally applied to the destruction of British officers. From their fall, much confusion was expected. They were therefore particularly singled out. Most of those who were near the person of General Howe were either killed or wounded; but the General, though he greatly exposed himself, was unhurt. The light infantry and grenadiers lost three-fourths of their men. Of one company not more than five, and of another not more than fourteen, escaped.

The unexpected resistance of the Americans was such as wiped away the reproach of cowardice, which had been cast upon them by their enemies in Britain. The spirited conduct of the British officers merited and obtained great applause; but the provincials were justly entitled to a large share of the glory for having made the utmost exertions of their adversaries necessary to dislodge them from lines which were the work of only a single night.

The Americans lost five pieces of cannon. Their killed amounted to one hundred thirty-nine; their wounded and missing, to three hundred fourteen. Thirty of the former fell into the hands of the conquerors. They particularly regretted the death of General Warren. To the purest patriotism and most undaunted bravery he added the virtues of domestic life, the eloquence of an accomplished orator, and the wisdom of an able statesman. Only a regard for the liberty of his country induced him to oppose the measures of Government. He aimed not at a separation from, but a coalition with, the mother-country.

The burning of Charlestown, though a place of great trade, did not discourage the provincials. It excited resentment and execration, but not any disposition to submit. Such was the high-strung state of the public mind, and so great the indifference of property when put in competition with liberty, that military conflagrations, though they distressed and impoverished, had no tendency to subdue, the colonists. Such means might suffice in the Old World, but were not effectual in the New, where the war was undertaken, not for a change of masters, but for securing essential rights.

The action at Breed's Hill, or Bunker Hill, as it has since been commonly called, produced many and very important consequences. It taught the British so much respect for the Americans, intrenched behind works, that their subsequent operations were retarded with a caution that wasted away a whole campaign to very little purpose. It added to the confidence the Americans began to have in their own abilities. It inspired some of the leading members of Congress with such high ideas of what might be done by militia, or men engaged for a short term of enlistment, that it was long before they assented to the establishment of a permanent army.

FOOTNOTES:

[26] Charlestown. A body of American riflemen, posted in the houses, galled the left line as it marched; therefore, by Howe's orders, the town was set on fire.


CANADA REMAINS LOYAL TO ENGLAND

MONTGOMERY'S INVASION

a.d. 1775

JOHN McMULLEN

At the outbreak of the Revolutionary War there was a belief, or at least a hope, among the thirteen rebellious colonies that Canada would join them and thus enable the entire continent to present a united front against England. Had she done so the course of Canadian and perhaps of American destiny would have been widely changed.

The condition of Canada was different from that of the more southern colonies, in that it was a conquered country, guarded by British soldiers. The great majority of the inhabitants were of French descent; until 1760 they had been under French rule; and it was hoped that, especially in the Quebec Province and along the St. Lawrence Valley, the French habitants would seize eagerly on an opportunity for revolt. An expedition was therefore planned under Generals Montgomery and Arnold; and though it failed, so great was the heroism of the men who attempted it that we may leave their story to their foes to tell. The following account is by the standard Canadian historian McMullen.

That Canada was saved to England from this, the first and most serious of the invasions of her independent neighbors to the south, was due chiefly to Sir Guy Carleton, the able general then governing the Province and commanding the British forces there. It was due also to the French clergy, who favored British rule and bade their parishioners stand neutral or even urged them to fight against the invaders.

The American Congress, in 1775, believed the Canadian people to be favorable to their cause, and resolved to anticipate the British by striking a decided blow in the North. They accordingly despatched a force of nearly two thousand men, under Schuyler and Montgomery, to penetrate into Canada by the Richelieu. After taking the forts along that river, they were next to possess themselves of Montreal, and then descend to Quebec, and form a junction there with Colonel Arnold, who was to proceed up the Kennebec with eleven hundred men and surprise the capital of Canada if possible.

On September 5th the American army arrived at the Ileaux-Noix, whence Schuyler and Montgomery scattered a proclamation among the Canadians stating that they came only against the British, and had no design whatever on the lives, the properties, or religion of the inhabitants. General Schuyler being unwell now returned to Albany, and the chief command devolved on Montgomery, who, having received a reënforcement, invested Fort St. John on the 17th, and at the same time sent some troops to attack the fort at Chambly, while Ethan Allan was despatched with a reconnoitring party toward Montreal. Allan accordingly proceeded to the St. Lawrence, and being informed that the town was weakly defended, and believing the inhabitants were favorable to the Americans, he resolved to capture it by surprise, although his force was under two hundred men. General Carleton had already arrived at Montreal to make disposition for the protection of the frontier. Learning on the night of the 24th that a party of Americans had crossed the river and were marching on the town, he promptly drew together two hundred fifty of the local militia, chiefly English and Irish, and with thirty men of the Twenty-sixth regiment, in addition, prepared for its defence. Allan, however, instead of proceeding to attack Montreal, becoming intimidated, took possession of some houses and barns in the neighborhood, where he was surrounded next day and compelled to surrender after a loss of five killed and ten wounded. The British lost their commanding officer, Major Carsden, Alexander Paterson, a merchant of Montreal, and two privates. Allan and his men were sent prisoners to England, where they were confined in Pendennis castle.

While these occurrences were transpiring at Montreal, Montgomery was vigorously pressing forward the siege of Fort St. John, which post was gallantly defended by Major Preston of the Twenty-sixth regiment. His conduct was not imitated by Major Stopford, of the Seventh, who commanded at Chambly, and who surrendered, in a cowardly manner, on two hundred Americans appearing before the works with two six-pounders. This was a fortunate event for Montgomery, whose powder was nearly exhausted, and who now procured a most seasonable supply from the captured fort. His fire was again renewed, but was bravely replied to by the garrison, who hoped that General Carleton would advance and raise the siege. This the latter was earnestly desirous to do, and drew together all the militia he could collect and the few troops at his disposal for that purpose, and pushed across the river toward Longueil on one of the last days of October. General Montgomery had foreseen this movement, and detached a force, with two field-pieces, to prevent it. This force took post near the river, and allowed the British to approach within pistol-shot of the shore, when they opened such a hot fire of musketry and cannon that General Carleton was compelled to order a retreat on Montreal. Montgomery duly apprized Major Preston of these occurrences, and the garrison being now short of provisions and ammunition, and without any hope of succor, surrendered on October 31st, and marched out with all the honors of war.

With Fort St. John and Chambly a large portion of the regular troops in Canada was captured, and the Governor was in no condition to resist the American army, the main body of which now advanced upon Montreal, while a strong detachment proceeded to Sorel, to cut off the retreat of the British toward Quebec. General Carleton, with Brigadier Prescott and one hundred twenty soldiers, left Montreal, after destroying all the public stores possible, just as the American army was entering it. At Sorel, however, their flight was effectually intercepted by an armed vessel and some floating batteries, and Prescott, finding it impossible to force a passage, was compelled to surrender. The night before, General Carleton fortunately eluded the vigilance of the Americans, and passed down the river in a boat with muffled oars. Montgomery treated the people of Montreal with great consideration, and gained their good-will by the affability of his manners and the nobleness and generosity of his disposition.

While the main body of the American invading force had been completely successful thus far, Arnold sailed up the Kennebec, and proceeded through the vast forests lying between it and the St. Lawrence, in the hope of surprising Quebec. The sufferings of his troops from hunger and fatigue were of the most severe description. So great were their necessities that they were obliged to eat dog's flesh, and even the leather of their cartouch-boxes; still, they pressed on with unflagging zeal and wonderful endurance, and arrived at Point Levi on November 9th. But their approach was already known at Quebec. Arnold had enclosed a letter for Schuyler to a friend in that city, and imprudently intrusted its delivery to an Indian, who carried it to the Lieutenant-Governor. The latter immediately began to make defensive preparations, and when the Americans arrived on the opposite side of the river they found all the shipping and boats removed, and a surprise out of the question.

On the 12th Colonel M'Clean, who had retreated from Sorel, arrived at Quebec, with a body of Fraser's Highlanders, who had settled in the country, were now reëmbodied, and amounted to one hundred fifty men. In addition to these there were four hundred eighty Canadian militia, five hundred British, and some regular troops and seamen for the defence of the town. The Hunter (sloop-of-war) gave the garrison the command of the river, yet, despite the vigilance exercised by her commander, Arnold crossed over during the night of the 13th, landed at Wolfe's Cove, and next morning appeared on the Plains of Abraham, where he gave his men three cheers, which were promptly responded to by the besieged, who in addition complimented them with a few discharges of grape-shot, which compelled them to retire. Finding he could effect nothing against the city, Arnold retired up the river to Point-aux-Trembles, to await the arrival of Montgomery.

On the 19th, to the great joy of the garrison, General Carleton arrived from Montreal, bringing down with him two armed schooners which had been lying at Three Rivers. One of his first measures was to strengthen the hands of the loyalists, by ordering those liable to serve in the militia, and who refused to be enrolled, to quit the city within four days. By this means several disaffected persons were got rid of, and the garrison was speedily raised to eighteen hundred men, who had plenty of provisions for eight months.

On December 1st Montgomery joined Arnold at Point-aux-Trembles, when their united forces, amounting to about two thousand men, proceeded to attack Quebec, in the neighborhood of which they arrived on the 4th, and soon after quartered their men in the houses of the suburbs. Montgomery now sent a flag to summon the besieged to surrender, but this was fired upon by order of General Carleton, who refused to hold any intercourse with the American officers. Highly indignant at this treatment, the besiegers proceeded to construct their batteries, although the weather was intensely cold. But their artillery was too light to make any impression on the fortifications, the fire from which cut their fascines to pieces and dismounted their guns; so Montgomery determined to carry the works by escalade. He accordingly assembled his men on December 30th and made them a very imprudent speech, in which he avowed his resolution of attacking the city by storm. A deserter carried intelligence of his intention that very day to General Carleton, who made the necessary preparations for defence. On the night of the 31st the garrison pickets were on the alert. Nothing, however, of importance occurred till next morning, when Captain Fraser, the field officer on duty, on going his rounds, perceived some suspicious signals at St. John's Gate, and immediately turned out the guard, when a brisk fire was opened by a body of the enemy, concealed by a snow-bank. This was a mere feint to draw off attention from the true points of attack, at the southern and northern extremities of the Lower Town. It had, however, the effect of putting the garrison more completely on their guard, and thus was fatal to the plans of the assailants.

Montgomery led a column of five hundred men toward the southern side of the town, and halted to reconnoitre at a short distance from the first battery, near the Près de Ville, defended chiefly by Canadian militia, with nine seamen to work the guns, the whole under the command of Captain Barnsfair. The guard were on the alert, and the sailors with lighted matches waited the order to fire, while the strictest silence was preserved. Presently the officer who had made the reconnoissance returned and reported everything still. The Americans now rushed forward to the attack, when Barnsfair gave the command to fire, and the head of the assailing column went instantly down under the unexpected and fatal discharge of guns and musketry. The survivors made a rapid retreat, leaving thirteen of their dead behind to be shrouded in the falling snow, among whom was the gallant Montgomery. Of a good family in the north of Ireland, he had served under Wolfe with credit, married an American lady, Miss Livingston, after the peace, and had joined the cause of the United States with great enthusiasm.

At the other end of the Lower Town Arnold at the head of six hundred men had assaulted the first barrier with great impetuosity, meeting with little resistance. He was wounded in the first onset and borne to the rear. But his place was ably supplied by Captain Morgan, who forced the guard and drove them back to a second barrier, two hundred yards nearer the centre of the town. Owing to the prompt arrangements, however, of General Carleton, who soon arrived on the ground, the Americans were speedily surrounded, driven out of a strong building by the bayonet, and compelled to surrender to the number of four hundred twenty-six, including twenty-eight officers. In this action the garrison had ten men killed and thirteen wounded; the American loss in killed and wounded was about one hundred.

The besieging force was now reduced to a few hundred men, and they were at a loss whether to retreat toward home or continue the siege. As they were in expectation of soon receiving aid they at length determined to remain in the neighborhood, and elected Arnold as their general, who contented himself with a simple blockade of the besieged, at a considerable distance from the works. Carleton would have now gladly proceeded to attack him, but several of the Canadians outside the city were disaffected, as well as many persons within the defences, and he considered, with his motley force, his wisest course was to run no risk, and wait patiently for the succor which the opening of navigation must give him.

During the month of February a small reënforcement from Massachusetts and some troops from Montreal raised Arnold's force to over one thousand men, and he now resumed the siege, but could make no impression on the works. His men had already caught the smallpox, and the country people becoming more and more unwilling to supply provisions, his difficulties increased rather than diminished. When the Americans first came into the country the habitants were disposed to sell them what they required at a fair price, and a few hundred of the latter even joined their army. But they soon provoked the hostility of the bulk of the people by a want of respect for their clergy, by compelling them to furnish articles below the current prices, and by giving them illegal certificates of payment, which were rejected by the American quartermaster-general. In this way the Canadians began gradually to take a deeper interest in the struggle in progress, and to regard the British as their true friends and protectors, while they came to look upon the Americans as a band of armed plunderers, who made promises they had no intention of performing, and refused to pay their just debts.

All the Canadians now required was a proper leader and a system of organization to cause them to act vigorously against Arnold. Even in the absence of these requisites they determined to raise the siege, and, led by a gentleman of the name of Beajeau, a force advanced toward Quebec, on March 25th, but was defeated by the Americans, and compelled to retreat. This check, however, did not discourage the Canadians, who now resolved to surprise a detachment of the enemy at Point Levi. By some means their design became known, and they were very roughly handled.

The month of April passed without producing any events of importance. The Americans had meanwhile been reënforced to over two thousand men, and Major-General Thomas had arrived to take the command. The smallpox still continued to rage among them; besides they could make no impression on the fortifications, and the hostile attitude of the Canadians disheartened them, so nothing was effected. On May 5th Thomas called a council of war, at which an immediate retreat was determined on.

On the following morning, to the great joy of the besieged, the Surprise frigate and a sloop arrived in the harbor, with one hundred seventy men of the Twenty-ninth regiment and some marines, who were speedily landed. Now General Carleton at once resolved on offensive operations, and marched out at noon with one thousand men and a few field-pieces to attack the Americans. But the latter did not await his approach, and fled with the utmost precipitation, leaving all their cannon, stores, ammunition, and even their sick behind. These were treated with the utmost attention by General Carleton, whose humanity won the esteem of all his prisoners, who were loud in his praise on returning home. For his services during the siege the Governor was knighted by his sovereign.

The Americans retreated as rapidly as possible for a distance of forty-five miles up the river, but finding they were not pursued they halted for a few days to rest themselves. They then proceeded in a distressed condition to Sorel, where they were joined by some reënforcements, and where, also, their general, Thomas, died of the smallpox, which still continued to afflict them. He was succeeded in the chief command by General Sullivan.

Meantime some companies of the Eighth regiment, which were scattered through the frontier posts on the Lakes, had descended to Ogdensburg. From thence Captain Forster was detached, on May 11th, with one hundred twenty-six soldiers and an equal number of Indians, to capture a stockade at the Cedars, garrisoned by three hundred ninety Americans, under the command of Colonel Bedell. The latter surrendered on the 19th, after sustaining only a few hours' fire of musketry, and the following day one hundred men advancing to his assistance were attacked by the Indians and a few Canadians. A smart action ensued which lasted for ten minutes, when the Americans laid down their arms and were marched prisoners to the fort, where they were with difficulty saved from massacre.

After providing for the safety of his numerous prisoners, Forster pushed down the river toward Lachine, but, learning that Arnold was advancing to attack him with a force treble his own number, he halted and prepared for action. Placing his men in an advantageous position on the edge of the river, and spreading the Indians out on his flanks, he made such a stout defence that the Americans were compelled to retire to St. Anne's. Forster, encumbered with his prisoners, now proposed a cartel, which Arnold at once assented to, and an exchange was effected, on May 27th, for two majors, nine captains, twenty subalterns, and four hundred forty-three privates. This cartel was broken by Congress, on the ground that the prisoners had been cruelly used, which was not the case. They had been treated with all the humanity possible, when the difficulty of guarding so large a number, with less than three hundred men, is taken into consideration.

While these events were in progress above Montreal, a large body of troops had arrived from England, under the command of Major-General Burgoyne. Brigadier Fraser was at once sent on by the Governor with the first division to Three Rivers. While the troops still remained on board their transports off this place, General Thompson advanced with eighteen hundred men to surprise the town, and would have effected his object had not one of his Canadian guides escaped and warned the British of his approach. General Fraser immediately landed his troops, with several field-pieces, and posted them so advantageously that the Americans were speedily defeated, their general, his second in command, and five hundred men made prisoners, while, the retreat of their main body being cut off, they were compelled to take shelter in a wood full of swamps. Here they remained in great distress till the following day, when General Carleton, who had meanwhile come up, humanely drew the guard from the bridge over the Rivière du Loup, and allowed them to escape toward Sorel. Finding themselves unable to oppose the force advancing against them, the American army, under Sullivan, retreated to Crown Point, whither Arnold also retired from Montreal on June 15th. Thus terminated the invasion of Canada, which produced no advantage to the American cause, but on the contrary aroused the hostility of the inhabitants and drew them closer to Great Britain.


SIGNING OF AMERICAN DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE

a.d. 1776

THOMAS JEFFERSON JOHN A. DOYLE

Among historic acts and political deliverances there is none more weighty in significance and results, none more famous in the annals of the world, than the American Declaration of Independence. The document which preserves it to all ages is "a witness to the world that freedom, resting not on institutions, but on the necessities of human nature, is no mere abstract idea, but a vital principle of national life."

At the beginning of 1776 the tide of public opinion in the colonies was setting strongly toward national independence. Lexington and Bunker Hill had spoken their message to America and to the British Government. All the other colonies had come into line with New England. The earliest declaration of independence, that of the people of Mecklenburg County, North Carolina (May, 1775), had preluded the general proclamation. The second Continental Congress was at work with growing legislative powers; the New England forces had been adopted as the Continental Army, with Washington as commander-in-chief; that army was besieging the British in Boston; and a movement was in progress against Canada. In March, 1776, Boston was evacuated. On June 28th a British attack on Sullivan's Island, off Charleston, South Carolina, was repulsed by Moultrie. Before the end of 1775 the Continental Congress had ordered the building of several ships—the nucleus of the American navy—and its sea-power was rapidly increased by privateers. Meanwhile King George III and his minister, Lord North, had continued their coercive policy and strengthened their war measures.

Thomas Paine's Common Sense, published early in 1776, one of the most effective popular appeals that ever "went to the bosoms of a nation," completed the preparation of the public mind for the great step about to be taken by the Congress.

Jefferson's account of the proceedings day by day, given in his own Memoirs, is the best contemporary record of the momentous deliberations and decision of this body, assembled in Independence Hall, Philadelphia. A quarter of a century before, upon the fillet of the "Liberty Bell," which hung in the steeple of that Old State House, had been cast the words of ancient Hebrew Scripture: "Proclaim liberty throughout all the land, unto all the inhabitants thereof."

Doyle's reflections, as representing an enlightened English view of the Declaration and the great struggle which it lifted to its climax, is placed as a suggestive commentary after the uncolored narrative of the chief author of the great instrument itself.

THOMAS JEFFERSON

In Congress, Friday, June 7, 1776, the delegates from Virginia moved, in obedience to instructions from their constituents, that the Congress should declare that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved; that measures should be immediately taken for procuring the assistance of foreign powers, and a confederation be formed to bind the colonies more closely together.

The House being obliged to attend at that time to some other business, the proposition was referred to the next day, when the members were ordered to attend punctually at ten o'clock.

Saturday, June 8th. They proceeded to take it into consideration, and referred it to a committee of the whole, into which they immediately resolved themselves, and passed that day and Monday, the 10th, in debating on the subject.

It was argued by Wilson, Robert R. Livingston, E. Rutledge, Dickinson, and others—that, though they were friends to the measures themselves, and saw the impossibility that we should ever again be united with Great Britain, yet they were against adopting them at this time:

That the conduct we had formerly observed was wise, and proper now, of deferring to take any capital step till the voice of the people drove us into it:

That they were our power, and without them our declarations could not be carried into effect:

That the people of the middle colonies (Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania, the Jerseys, and New York) were not yet ripe for bidding adieu to British connection, but that they were fast ripening, and, in a short time, would join in the general voice of America:

That the resolution, entered into by this House on May 15th, for suppressing the exercise of all powers derived from the Crown, had shown, by the ferment into which it had thrown these middle colonies, that they had not yet accommodated their minds to a separation from the mother-country:

That some of them had expressly forbidden their delegates to consent to such a declaration, and others had given no instructions, and consequently no powers to give such consent:

That if the delegates of any particular colony had no power to declare such colony independent, certain they were the others could not declare it for them, the colonies being as yet perfectly independent of each other:

That the Assembly of Pennsylvania was now sitting above stairs, their convention would sit within a few days, the convention of New York was now sitting, and those of the Jerseys and Delaware counties would meet on the Monday following, and it was probable these bodies would take up the question of Independence, and would declare to their delegates the voice of their State:

That if such a declaration should now be agreed to, these delegates must retire, and possibly their colonies might secede from the Union:

That such a secession would weaken us more than could be compensated by any foreign alliance:

That in the event of such a division, foreign powers would either refuse to join themselves to our fortunes, or, having us so much in their power as that desperate declaration would place us, they would insist on terms proportionately more hard and prejudicial:

That we had little reason to expect an alliance with those to whom alone as yet we had cast our eyes:

That France and Spain had reason to be jealous of that rising power, which would one day certainly strip them of all their American possessions:

That it was more likely they should form a connection with the British court, who, if they should find themselves unable otherwise to extricate themselves from their difficulties, would agree to a partition of our territories, restoring Canada to France, and the Floridas to Spain, to accomplish for themselves a recovery of these colonies:

That it would not be long before we should receive certain information of the disposition of the French court, from the agent whom we had sent to Paris for that purpose:

That if this disposition should be favorable by waiting the event of the present campaign, which we all hoped would be successful, we should have reason to expect an alliance on better terms:

That this would in fact work no delay of any effectual aid from such ally, as, from the advance of the season and distance of our situation, it was impossible we could receive any assistance during this campaign:

That it was prudent to fix among ourselves the terms on which we should form alliance, before we declared we would form one at all events:

And that if these were agreed on, and our Declaration of Independence ready by the time our ambassador should be prepared to sail, it would be as well as to go into the Declaration at this day.

On the other side, it was urged by J. Adams, Lee, Wythe, and others that no gentleman had argued against the policy or the right of separation from Britain, nor had supposed it possible we should ever renew our connection; that they had only opposed its being now declared:

That the question was not whether, by a Declaration of Independence, we should make ourselves what we are not; but whether we should declare a fact which already exists:

That, as to the people or Parliament of England, we had always been independent of them, their restraints on our trade deriving efficacy from our acquiescence only, and not from any rights they possessed of imposing them, and that so far, our connection had been federal only, and was now dissolved by the commencement of hostilities:

That, as to the King, we had been bound to him by allegiance, but that this bond was now dissolved by his assent to the last act of Parliament, by which he declares us out of his protection, and by his levying war on us, a fact which had long ago proved us out of his protection; it being a certain position in law, that allegiance and protection are reciprocal, the one ceasing when the other is withdrawn:

That James the II never declared the people of England out of his protection, yet his actions proved it, and the Parliament declared it:

No delegates then can be denied, or ever want, a power of declaring an existing truth:

That the delegates from the Delaware counties having declared their constituents ready to join, there are only two colonies, Pennsylvania and Maryland, whose delegates are absolutely tied up, and that these had, by their instructions, only reserved a right of confirming or rejecting the measure:

That the instructions from Pennsylvania might be accounted for from the times in which they were drawn, near a twelvemonth ago, since which the face of affairs has totally changed:

That within that time it had become apparent that Britain was determined to accept nothing less than a carte-blanche, and that the King's answer to the lord mayor, aldermen and common-council of London, which had come to hand four days ago, must have satisfied everyone of this point:

That the people wait for us to lead the way:

That they are in favor of the measure, though the instructions given by some of their representatives are not:

That the voice of the representatives is not always consonant with the voice of the people, and that this is remarkably the case in these middle colonies:

That the effect of the resolution of May 15th has proved this, which, raising the murmurs of some in the colonies of Pennsylvania and Maryland, called forth the opposing voice of the freer part of the people, and proved them to be the majority even in these colonies:

That the backwardness of these two colonies might be ascribed, partly to the influence of proprietary power and connections, and partly to their having not yet been attacked by the enemy:

That these causes were not likely to be soon removed, as there seemed no probability that the enemy would make either of these the seat of this summer's war:

That it would be vain to wait either weeks or months for perfect unanimity, since it was impossible that all men should ever become of one sentiment on any question:

That the conduct of some colonies, from the beginning of this contest, had given reason to suspect it was their settled policy to keep in the rear of the confederacy, that their particular prospect might be better, even in the worst event:

That, therefore, it was necessary for those colonies who had thrown themselves forward and hazarded all from the beginning, to come forward now also, and put all again to their own hazard:

That the history of the Dutch Revolution, of whom three states only confederated at first, proved that a secession of some colonies would not be so dangerous as some apprehended:

That a declaration of independence alone could render it consistent with European delicacy, for European powers to treat with us, or even to receive an ambassador from us:

That till this they would not receive our vessels into their ports, nor acknowledge the adjudications of our courts of admirality to be legitimate in cases of capture of British vessels:

That though France and Spain may be jealous of our rising power, they must think it will be much more formidable with the addition of Great Britain; and will therefore see it their interest to prevent a coalition; but should they refuse, we shall never know whether they will aid us or not:

That the present campaign may be unsuccessful, and therefore we had better propose an alliance while our affairs wear a hopeful aspect:

That to wait the event of this campaign will certainly work delay, because, during the summer, France may assist us effectually, by cutting off those supplies of provisions from England and Ireland on which the enemy's armies here are to depend; or by setting in motion the great power they have collected in the West Indies, and calling our enemy to the defence of the possessions they have there:

That it would be idle to lose time in settling the terms of alliance, till we had first determined we would enter into alliance:

That it is necessary to lose no time in opening a trade for our people, who will want clothes, and will want money too for the payment of taxes:

And that the only misfortune is that we did not enter into alliance with France six months sooner, as, besides opening her ports for the vent of our last year's produce, she might have marched an army into Germany, and prevented the petty princes there from selling their unhappy subjects to subdue us.

It appearing in the course of these debates that the colonies of New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Delaware, and South Carolina were not yet matured for falling from the parental stem, but that they were fast advancing to that state, it was thought most prudent to wait a while for them, and to postpone the final decision to July 1st; but, that this might occasion as little delay as possible, a committee was appointed to prepare a Declaration of Independence. The committee were John Adams, Dr. Franklin, Roger Sherman, Robert R. Livingston, and myself. Committees were also appointed, at the same time, to prepare a plan of confederation for the colonies, and to state the terms proper to be proposed for foreign alliance.

The committee for drawing the Declaration of Independence desired me to do it. It was accordingly done, and, being approved by them, I reported it to the House on Friday, June 28th, when it was read, and ordered to lie on the table. On Monday, July 1st, the House resolved itself into a committee of the whole, and resumed the consideration of the original motion made by the delegates of Virginia, which, being again debated through the day, was carried in the affirmative by the votes of New Hampshire, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia. South Carolina and Pennsylvania voted against it. Delaware had but two members present, and they were divided. The delegates of New York declared they were for it themselves, and were assured their constituents were for it; but that their instructions having been drawn near a twelvemonth before, when reconciliation was still the general object, they were enjoined by them to do nothing which should impede that object. They, therefore, thought themselves not justifiable in voting on either side, and asked leave to withdraw from the question; which was given them.

The committee rose and reported their resolution to the House. Mr. Edward Rutledge, of South Carolina, then requested the determination might be put off to the next day, as he believed his colleagues, though they disapproved of the resolution, would then join in it for the sake of unanimity. The ultimate question, whether the House would agree to the resolution of the committee, was accordingly postponed to the next day, when it was again moved, and South Carolina concurred in voting for it.

In the mean time a third member had come post from the Delaware counties, and turned the vote of that colony in favor of the resolution. Members of a different sentiment attending that morning from Pennsylvania also, her vote was changed, so that the whole twelve colonies who were authorized to vote at all, gave their voices for it; and, within a few days, the convention of New York approved of it; and thus supplied the void occasioned by the withdrawing of her delegates from the vote.

Congress proceeded the same day to consider the Declaration of Independence, which had been reported and laid on the table the Friday preceding, and on Monday referred to a committee of the whole. The pusillanimous idea that we had friends in England worth keeping terms with still haunted the minds of many. For this reason, those passages which conveyed censures on the people of England were struck out, lest they should give them offence. The clause, too, reprobating the enslaving the inhabitants of Africa, was struck out in complaisance to South Carolina and Georgia, who had never attempted to restrain the importation of slaves, and who, on the contrary, still wished to continue it.

Our northern brethren also, I believe, felt a little tender under those censures; for though their people had very few slaves themselves, yet they had been pretty considerable carriers of them to others. The debates, having taken up the greater parts of July 2d, 3d, and 4th, were, on the evening of the last, closed; the Declaration was reported by the committee, agreed to by the House, and signed by every member present except Mr. Dickinson.

JOHN ANDREW DOYLE

Before this it had become evident that to defer any longer the formation of an independent government was to keep up an unnecessary source of weakness. Already the voice of the nation had protested unmistakably against the longer continuance of anarchy. The first definite step toward such a change had been taken in 1775 by New Hampshire. On October 11th their delegates had petitioned Congress to allow them to establish a government, but Congress, having still hopes of the success of the petition, had deferred answering their appeal. The majority of Congress saw at last that independence was only a question of time. An answer was sent to the Convention of New Hampshire, recommending it to form a government. Similar advice was sent the next day to South Carolina, and a little later to Virginia. Yet New Hampshire shrank from so decisive a step, and coupled the formation of their new government with a studious expression of their allegiance. Virginia showed a nobler spirit.

In January the convention passed a motion, instructing their delegates to recommend Congress to throw their ports open to all nations, and thus to cast off the commercial supremacy of England. But the mere establishment of independent State governments was not enough. An imperial government, also independent of England, was essential. To establish independence without confederation would be only doing half the work. In the words of Franklin, "We must all hang together, unless we would all hang separately." About this time Franklin's scheme for a confederation was laid before Congress. The scheme did not include, but it evidently implied, independence. Franklin had been throughout a strenuous advocate of reconciliation, as long as reconciliation was possible, and his opinion ought to have convinced all that the time for separation had come. But the timid counsels of his colleague, Dickinson, overruled the motion, and the scheme of a confederation was not even formally considered. On February 16th the question of opening the ports was formally laid before Congress. In the next month measures were taken which clearly showed that independence was at hand. A private agent was sent to France by the authority of the committee of secret correspondence, and the instructions of the commissioners sent to Canada contained a clause inviting the people of Canada to "set up such a form of government as will be most likely in their judgment to produce their happiness." The clause was objected to as implying independence, and gave rise to a debate, but was ultimately carried. At last, after seven weeks' deliberation, the Congress resolved to emancipate the colonies from all commercial restrictions, and on April 6th the ports of America were thrown open to the world.

On March 27th South Carolina proceeded to construct a government. They asserted as their principle of action that the good of the people is the origin and end of all government, and they set forth the misconduct of the King, the Parliament, and the officers of the English Government. At the same time they introduced no change into the system of representation or the qualification of voters. On May 4th the Assembly of Rhode Island passed an act discharging the inhabitants of the colony from allegiance to the King, and at the same time authorized its delegates in Congress to conclude a treaty with any independent power for the security of the colonies. On May 6th the Assembly of Virginia met at Williamsburg. After a declaration that all pacific measures were useless, and that "they had no alternative left but an abject submission to the will of those overbearing tyrants, or a total separation from the Crown and Government of Great Britain," they passed two resolutions; the first empowering their delegates at the convention to propose a declaration of independence and a confederation of the colonies; the second appointing a committee to draw up a declaration of rights and a scheme of government for the colony. On June 12th the Declaration of Rights was laid before the Assembly, and on the 29th a constitution was produced.

The Assembly then proceeded to elect a governor. The choice fell on Patrick Henry. Rightly was he, who had first foreseen independence and bidden his countrymen look the danger of it in the face, deemed worthy to be the first to govern the State which he had called into being. All the colonies except Pennsylvania and Maryland followed the example of Virginia, and when, on July 1st, the motion for independence was laid before the Congress, the delegates of nine colonies were pledged to vote in its favor. The delegates of Pennsylvania and Maryland were divided, those of South Carolina unanimously opposed independence. The New York delegates were all in favor of independence, and represented the opinion of the colony, but could not vote, as their convention had not yet been duly elected. When the question came forward for decision next day, Dickinson, who had opposed it on the first day with great earnestness, stayed away, as did one of his colleagues, and the vote of Pennsylvania was altered. Another delegate arrived from Delaware, whose vote turned the scale, and South Carolina, rather than stand alone, withdrew its opposition. New York alone was unable to vote, and on July 2d, by the decision of twelve colonies, without one adverse vote, it was resolved "that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved." Seldom was the irony of history more strikingly illustrated than when Hancock, a rebel specially selected for proscription by the English government, put the question to the vote, and declared the American colonies forever independent.

Thomas Jefferson, of Virginia, was selected to draw up the Declaration which had been resolved upon. His pen had already served his country. In 1774 he had published A Summary View of the Rights of British America, setting forth the dangers which menaced the country, and encouraging the people in defence of their liberties. He had signalized himself in his own colony by his opposition to slavery. "Wherever he was, there was found a soul devoted to the cause of liberty, power to defend and maintain it, and willingness to incur all its hazards."

On July 4th the Declaration was produced. It declared the abstract principles on which their secession was justified; it then drew up an indictment against the King, in eighteen heads, setting forth the various ways in which he had proved himself "a tyrant unfit to be the ruler of a free people." Finally it declared that the united colonies were free and independent states; that the connection with Great Britain was and ought to be totally dissolved, and that as free and independent states, they had full power to "levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do."

Seldom in human events do the facts of history carry their own explanation so clearly with them. A people who had grown up gradually, almost unconsciously, under democratic institutions, at last saw those institutions subverted. To preserve the spirit of them, they changed their form. We must not be misled into the error of underrating the importance of the American struggle by any idea of the insignificance of the issue at stake. We must not suppose that it was, as an earnest and eloquent writer has called it, "a war for the vindication of the principle of representative taxation." Its immediate origin, it is true, involved no vital interest, such as often has been at stake when nations have risen against their rulers. But "rebellions may fall out on small occasions; they do not spring from small causes," was said by the first and wisest of political philosophers. Taxation was, as Burke says, that by which the colonists felt the pulse of liberty, "and as they found that beat, they thought themselves sick or sound."

The whole key to the American Revolution lies in two facts; it was a democratic and a conservative revolution. It was the work of the people, and its end was to preserve, not to destroy or to construct afresh. The policy of an early father of New England, "In a revolution burn all, and build afresh," was far from being that of his descendants. Throughout the whole War of Independence the colonists had a fixed known end in view. More than that, they had already within themselves the means for effecting that end, and making it enduring, as far as what is human can endure. The future that they proposed to themselves was not independent of their past: it was a fuller development of it. There was no need for beginning with the year one, or for throwing aside as worn out anything that their ancestors had left them. And it was essentially a democratic revolution. Throughout, the movement came from the people. The very blunders made by the hesitation and timidity of Congress were the mistakes of an assembly of delegates, not of representative statesmen. When the final step was taken, the Congress was not the originator of it, but was little more than a mouthpiece giving expression to the declared wishes of the nation.