The following
anecdotes are taken from:
THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION,
INCLUDING ALSO THE
BEAUTIES OF AMERICAN HISTORY
NEW YORK
DERBY AND JACKSON 119 NASSAU STREET
1859
SECTION 9
Background music: CAROLINA
by Henry Timrod (1829-1867)
VERSE I
The despot treads thy sacred sands,
Thy pines give shelter to his bands,
They sons stand by with idle hands,
He breathes at ease thy airs of balm,
He scorns the lances of thy palm;
Oh! who shall break thy craven calm,
Thy ancient fame is growing dim,
A spot is on thy garment's rim;
Give to the winds thy battle hymn,
|
MR.
JOHN ADAMS In
the year 1776, about the time of the Declaration of American Independence,
Lord Howe arrived in Long Island with a large army of British and Hessian
troops, and a short time after, the disastrous battle of Flatbush took place.
The defeat of the Americans presented, in the opinion of Lord Howe, a
favorable opportunity for conciliation, and he made some advances towards
negotiation with Congress. A committee of that body was appointed to treat
with the English general, consisting of John Adams, Dr. Franklin, and Mr.
Rutledge. They met Lord Howe at Staten Island; and when they landed on the
shore, they were conducted to the commander-in-chief, through the ranks of an
army of twenty thousand men, placed in such order as to produce the most
striking effect. Aware of this intention of military display, the
American commissioners did not manifest the slightest appearance of surprise.
Desirous to avoid compromising the fancied dignity of the English Crown, the
English commander told the commissioners, that he could not so far recognize
the existence of a Congress, as to treat with them as to its accredited
agents, but that he was at liberty to consult with any gentlemen of character
and standing, upon the means of a pacification between the mother country and
her colonies. The committee replied, that as they came to hear, he might
address them in any character which he chose: but that they would certainly
consider themselves a committee of the Congress of the United States.
"You may view me in any light you please," said Mr. Adams,
"save in that of a British subject." This was not the spirit which
promised any accommodation, on terms agreeable to England, who, at that time,
would have been contented with nothing less than the return of the colonies
to subjection; and the conference was therefore broken up, without any result
to either party. In
1777, Mr. Adams was appointed commissioner to France, to take the place of
Silas Deane, and embarked on board the Boston frigate. In the course of the
voyage, the commander of the Boston saw a sail, which carried the flag of the
enemy, and the temptation to engage with her was so strong, that, although
contrary to his orders, which were limited to carrying Mr. Adams to France,
he determined, if possible, to capture her. Having obtained the permission of
the commissioner, he made sail in chase; and when coming up with the enemy,
he represented the danger of remaining on deck, and insisted upon Mr. Adams
retiring below, out of gun-shot. Having
seen his charge safely deposited with the surgeon, the captain returned to
the deck; the courses were clewed up, all hands beat to quarters, bulkheads
down, decks sanded, matches lit, and the fight begun. In the midst of it the
captain saw, to his surprise, that Mr. Adams had escaped his confinement
below, and with musket in hand, was doing the duty of a marine with great
dexterity and composure. He
immediately went to him, and said, "My duty, sir, is to carry you unhurt
to France, and as you are unwilling to go under hatches of your own accord,
it is my duty to put you there;" and seizing the future president of the
republic in his arms, he had him conveyed to a place of safety, and took
measures to keep him there, which were effectual. Mr.
Adams was the member of the continental congress, who nominated Washington to
the place of commander-in-chief, and did much to secure his election. He was
one of the committee which drafted the Declaration of Independence. SITUATION
OF THE AMERICAN ARMY The
virtues of patience and resignation in cases of suffering and misfortune,
were perhaps never more nobly exercised than in the war of the American
Revolution. Without the comforts of life, and often, without its most common
necessaries, the republican army, from the highest general to the common
soldier, continued to battle with unabated vigor in the cause of their
country. It
was of these men that De Kalb wrote to the Chevalier de la Luzerne: "You
may judge of the virtues of our small army, from the following fact, --we
have for several days lived upon nothing but peaches, and I have heard no
complaint, and there has been no desertion." MEETING
AN EMERGENCY On
one occasion during the revolution, Lieutenant-Colonel Lee encamped, late in
the evening, near the forks of a road, one of which led to Cornwallis's camp,
six miles distant. His object was to interrupt some tory companies, which he
understood were about joining the royalist forces. His orders were to march
before dawn from the spot; and this was done with such silence, that an
officer named Manning, on awakening at daylight found himself entirely
deserted, with the exception of an orderly soldier, who was fast asleep on a
portmanteau. This man he roused up, and mounting immediately, they rode rapidly
to the forks, intending to overtake his regiment. Both roads appearing
equally traveled, he took the wrong one. At
a short distance down it, he saw a log but, before which a rifleman was
standing as sentinel. He went up to him, and asked, if he had seen a body of
troops pass within the hour. "Oho!" said the fellow, who was one of
the tories, "So you are one of Greene's men, are you!" These words
empited the hut, and Manning found himself surrounded by his enemies.
"Hush, you fool," answered he, to the sentinel. ""I have
got that in yonder portmanteau," pointing to the one carried by the
soldier, "which will ruin Greene. So hold your tongue, and show me the
way to Cornwallis's army, that I may lay the papers before him." "Well
done for an honest fellow," cried a dozen voices; "you have left
the rebels in good time. Colonel Pyle will raise the settlement to-night, and
Tarleton is to meet us and conduct us to the English army; so your neck is
well out of the noose. Yonder is the road, and one of us will go with you,
lest you lost it." "By no means," said Manning, "that
will double the risk. If the rebels should meet us, they will hang me for a
deserter, and you for leading me to Cornwallis." This
caution had the desired effect, and after riding a short distance towards the
English camp, Manning cut cross the country, gained the right road, and
overtaking Lee, informed him of the intended meeting of the tories. It is
almost needless to say, that their night meeting was a fatal one. Lee was
upon them, and before morning had destroyed and made prisoners the greatest
part of them THE
RELIGIOUS FEELING OF THE REVOLUTION The
men of '76, I am firmly persuaded, when compared with any other body of men
who have brought about important political changes, will appear eminent for
general purity of character, for the absence of egotism in all its shapes,
for a self-renouncing love of country, and for that deep sense of religion
which lies at the bottom of all really noble qualities. In illustration of
this, I will mention an incident in the life of one of them, who is scarcely
known out of his own state, and far too little in it. The
governor of Virginia, at the time of the siege of Yorktown, was a gentleman
who, at the commencement of the revolutionary struggle possessed, in addition
to other advantages, the largest fortune in that then wealthy colony. He not
only took his part in the ordinary dangers of that era, he not only periled
his life in the high places of the field, but he likewise held his ample
fortune as an offering on the altar of his country. The close of the war left
that country free, and him impoverished and contented. This forgetfulness of
self, this loftiness of spirit, was not the characteristic of a few
distinguished men, it was the temper of the people at that day. The common
soldiers marching to battle, might be tracked by the blood issuing from their
naked and lacerated feet. That
was the watchword. There was a fervent religious spirit existing, more than
their descendants generally understood or acknowledge. Religion did not use
the same dialect, or wear the same garb, as at present; she did not make
broad her phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of her garments as at
present, but it may well be questioned whether her principles were not as deeply
seated in the minds of men, wheher her practical influence was not as
powerful and happy, whether her results were not as acceptable to God, and as
profitable to man. How solemn and how frequent are the recognitions of Divine
Providence in the public documents of that day! Days of humiliation for
national sins, and of national thanksgivings for national mercies, were
solemnly appointed and devoutly observed. I
have reason to know, that during the revolutionary war, Mr. Jefferson, then a
member of the house of delegates of Virginia, from the county of Albemarle,
wrote to the minister of the parish in that county, urging upon him the most
solemn observance of a fast, then recently appointed by the Legislature. This
proves either that Mr. Jeffferson's own sentiments on religious subjects
were, at that time, more sound than they became after his residence in Paris,
and intercourse with the French encyclopedists, or that he knew the strength
of the religious feelings of the people, and wished them enlisted in favor of
the cause in which he embarked. In either point of view it is significant. Of
this religious feeling there was a remarkable expression in the convention
which framed our present constitution. Their deliberations were not
proceeding happily, and there seemed to be danger that they would break up
without effecting the object for which they had met. Under these
circumstances, Dr. Franklin, a man not considered remarkable among his
contemporaries for a devotional spirit, rose and said, "that he had lived
a long time, and the longer he lived the more convincing proof he saw, that
God governed in the affairs of men. He firmly believed what was taught in the
sacred writings, that except the Lord should build the house, they labor in
vain who build it. That he attributed their ill successes to their not humbly
applying to the Father of Lights, to illuminate their understandings; and he
moved that prayers, imploring the assistance of heaven, and its blessings on
their deliberations, he henceforth held." How
sublime and affecting was the sight, when, according to his proposal, that
assemblage of world-famous men, gallant warriors, eminent statesmen,
illustrious sages, knelt in prayer and asked for the wisdom which they
confessed they had not. It was indeed a characteristic and memorable scene.
Those magnanimous men, that had recently braved the fury of the most powerful
monarch upon earth, that had never feared the face of mortal, now humbled
themselves like little children, before Almighty God, acknowledged their
weakness, and craved his fatherly help and blessing! And shall we not believe
that they received it? Nothing would make us doubt it, but the degeneracy of
their descendants. Who could now say of an American Congress, what Lord
Chatham said of the Congress of his day, that, "compared with a Roman
senate, it deserved the preference for dignity and for wisdom." How
bitter a sarcasm would such an observation be, after one of those scenes of
personal altercation and reviling which disgrace every session, and which
make the check of a true-hearted American to burn with shame and indignation
when he reads them. GENERAL
PUTNAM'S ENTRANCE INTO THE ARMY When
the intelligence of the battle of Lexington, which took place on the 19th of
April, 1775, reached General Putnam, he was engaged in ploughing on his farm,
at Brooklyn, in Connecticut. He instantly unyoked his cattle, left his plough
standing in the unfinished furrow, in the midst of the field, and without
stopping to change his dress, immediately set off for the scene of military
transactions, in the vicinity of Boston. Upon entering the army, he was
appointed to the rank of major-general. On
the conclusion of the war, general Washington wrote a letter to General
Putnam, in which he warmly expressed the sense he entertained of his
services. "The name of Putnam," says he, "is not forgotten;
nor will it be, but with that stroke of time which shall obliterate from my
mind the remembrance of all those toils and fatigues through which we have
struggled, for the preservation and establishment of the rights, liberties,
and independence of our country." A
FABLE BY SAMUEL ADAMS A
meeting was called in Boston in consequence of some new inroads upon the
rights and liberties of the people. Adams, who sat silent, listening to all
their violent harangues, at last arose, and after a few remarks concluded
with saying, --"A Grecian philosopher, who was lying asleep upon the
grass, was roused by the bite of some animal upon the palm of his hand. He
closed his hand suddenly, as he awoke, and found that he had caught a field
mouse. As he was examining the little animal that had dared to attack him, it
unexpectedly bit him a second time. He dropped it, and it made its escape.
Now, fellow-citizens, what think you was the reflection I made upon this
trifling circumstance? It was this; that there is no animal, however weak and
contemptible, which cannot defend its own liberty, if it will only fight for
it." The
cause of American independence owed much to the zeal and intrepidity of this
individual. In comparison with the politicians of expediency and intrigue,
his love of liberty, his sincerity, his honesty, and his consistency of
character, raised him into true dignity. The memory of this distinguished patriot
is re-enrolled among the defenders of his country, and repeated with
gratitude and respect, by the humblest citizen of that state which he
contributed to render free. NOBLE
CONDUCT OF THE EARL OF EFFINGHAM When
the unhappy contest broke out between Britain and her American colonies, the
Earl of Effingham, who commanded the 22d regiment, was one of those who
thought and declared that the Americans only contended for that freedom which
was their birthright. The 22d being one of the regiments which were
afterwards destined to reduce the colonies to obedience by force of arms, his
lordship had no alternative, but either to resign his command, or take the
field against his principles. The choice could not be for a moment doubtful.
His lordship sent in a resignation, characterized by his own eloquent
integrity. The king was so well convinced of the conscientious motives of
Lord Effingham, that, while he regretted the loss of his services, he was
pleased to declare, that he should not lose the benefit of his rank upon any
future occasion. In
a subsequent debate in the house of lords, alluding to his resignation, he
thus feelingly expresses himself as: "Ever since I was a an age to have
any ambition at all, my highest has been to serve my country in a military
capacity. If there was on earth an event I dreaded, it was to see this
country so situated, as to make that profession incompatible with my duty as
a citizen. That period is, in my opinion arrived; and I have thought myself
bound to relinquish all the hopes I had formed, by a resignation; which
appeared to me as the only method of avoiding the guilt of enslaving my
country, and imbruing my hands in the blood of her sons." DE
KALB'S ACCOUNT OF HIS FAMILY His
excellency, Horatio Gates, was the commander-in-chief; but as he had not yet
arrived, the command rested on that brave old German general, the Baron de
Kalb. Colonel Semp introduced us in very flattering terms; styling "us
continental colonels, and two of the wealthiest and most distinguished
patriots of South Carolina!" I
shall never forget what I felt when introduced to this gentleman. He appeared
to be rather elderly; but though the snow of winter was on his locks, his
cheeks were still reddened over with the bloom of spring. His person was
large and manly, above the common size, with great nerve and activity; while
his fine blue eyes beamed with the mild radiance of intelligence and
goodness. He
received us with great politeness, saying, "I am glad to see you;
especially as you are the first Carolinians that I have seen, which has not a
little surprised me. I thought that British tyranny would have sent great
numbers from South Carolina to join our arms; but so far from it, we are told
they are all running to take British protection, Surely, they are not already
tired of fighting for liberty." "I
assure you, sir," replied Colonel Marion, "that though kept under
by fear, they still mortally hate the British; and will, I am confident, the
moment they see an army of friends at their doors, fly to their standard,
like a generous pack to the sound of the hunting horn." "I
trust it will prove so," answered De Kalb. After some general
conversation, while we were comfortably enveloped in fragrant clouds of
tobacco smoke, he said to Colonel Marion, "Can you answer me one
question?" "A
thousand, most gladly, if I can, general." "Well,
colonel, can you tell me my age?" "Why,
truly, that is a hard question, general." "A
hard question! How do you make that out?" "Why,
sir," replied Marion, "there is a strange January and May sort of
contrast between your locks and your looks, that quite confuse me. By your
locks you seem to be in the winter, by your looks in the summer of your days.
You may be about forty." "Good
heavens! No more than forty?" "Not
a day more, upon a soldier's honor." "Ha!
ha! Ha! --Well, colonel, I would not for a thousand guineas that your
riflemen shot as wide of the mark, as you guess. Forty-two years I have been
in the service of the king of France; and I am now sixty-three." "Impossible!"
We both exclaimed at once. "Such youthful bloom at sixty-three!" "If
you are surprised at my looks, gentlemen, what would you have thought, to
have seen my father, at the age of eighty-seven?" "Is
your father yet alive, general?" "Alive!
Yes thank God; and I trust he will be for many a good year yet to come. The
very Christmas before I sailed for America, I went to see him. It was full
three hundred miles from Paris. On arriving at the house, I found my dear old
mother at her wheel, in her eighty-third year, while one of her
great-granddaughters carded the wool, and sung a hymn for her. Soon as the
first transport of meeting was over, I eagerly inquired for my father. 'Do
not be uneasy, my son,' said she; 'your father has only gone to the woods
with his three great-grandchildren, to cut some fuel for the fire, and they
will all be here presently.' In
a short time I heard them coming. My father was the foremost, with his axe
under his arm, and a stout billet of wood on his shoulder; and the children,
each with his little load, staggering along, and prattling to my father with
all their might. Be assured, gentlemen, it was a most delicious moment to me,
thus, after long absence, to meet a beloved father, not only alive, but
enjoying health and dear domestic happiness above the lot of kings. Also to
see the two extremes of human life, youth and age, thus sweetly meeting and
mingling in that cordial love, which turns the cottage into a paradise." While
telling this story of his aged father, the general's fine countenance caught
an animation which perfectly charmed us all. GEN.
MARION'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOLDIERS After
the destruction of the American army at Camden, Colonel Marion, with his
little band of volunteer troops, being in the immediate neighborhood, were in
imminent danger. When he heard the dreadful tidings of defeat, he retreated
to the woods, and ordering his company to halt and form, he addressed them as
follows. "Gentlemen, you are aware of our situation --so widely
different from what I once was. Once we were a happy people! Liberty shone
upon our land, bright as the sun that gilds yon fields; and we and our
fathers rejoiced in its beams, as gay as the birds that enliven our forests. "But,
alas! Those golden days have fled, and the clouds of war now hang dark and
lowering above our heads. Our once peaceful land is filled with uproar and death.
Foreign ruffians invade our very firesides and altars, and leave us no
alternative but slavery or death. Two gallant armies have marched o our
assistance, but both are lost. That under General Lincoln, duped and
butchered at Savannah; and that under general Gates, imprudently over-marched,
is now cut up at Camden. Thus all our hopes from the north are at an end; and
poor Carolina is left to fight for herself. A sad alternative, indeed when
her own children are madly uniting with the enemy, and not one in a thousand
will rise to take her part. "My
countrymen! I wish to know your minds on this momentous subject. As for
myself, I consider my life as but a moment; and to fill that moment with
duty, is my all. To guard this innocent country from the evils of slavery,
now seems my greatest duty; and I am therefore determined that while I live
she shall never be enslaved. She may come to that wretched state, --but these
eyes shall never behold it. She shall never clank her chains in my eyes, and
pointing to the ignominious badge, exclaim, 'It was your cowardice that
brought me to this.'" One
and all, they answered, "We will conquer for our country, or die with
you!" "Then,
my brave friends," said he, "draw your swords! Now for a circle,
emblematical of our eternal union; and pointing your blades to heaven, the
bright throne of Him who made us free, swear you will never be the slaves of
Britain!" It was all devoutly done. The
reader will be pleased to hear that this brave man rose to a high rank in the
army, and lived to enjoy the peace and prosperity of the country he so ably
defended. His wife survived him; and as long as she was able to ride, the
poor people of Carolina used to press round her carriage, and bless her, as
they exclaimed, "That is the widow of our glorious old Marion!" REV.
THOMAS ALLEN Rev.
Thomas Allen was the first minister of Pittsfield. When the American
Revolution commenced, he, like the great body of the clergy, ardently
espoused the cause of the oppressed colonies, and bore his testimony against
the oppression of the mother country. When, in anticipation of the conflict
which finally took place in Bennington, the neighboring country was roused to
arms, he used his influence to increase the band of patriots, by exciting his
townsmen to proceed to the battle ground. A company was raised in his parish,
and proceeded. Some causes, however, were found to retard their progress on
the way. Hearing of the delay, he proceeded immediately to join them, by his
influence quickened their march, and soon presented them to Gen. Stark. Learning
from him that he mediated an attack on the enemy, he said he would fight, but
could not willingly bear arms against them, until he had invited them to
submit. He was insensible to fear, and accordingly proceeded so near as to
make himself distinctly heard in their camp, where, after taking a stand on a
convenient eminence, he commenced his pious exhortations, urging them to lay
down their arms. He was answered by a volley of musketry, which lodged their
contents in a log on which he stood. Turning calmly to a friend who had
followed him under cover of the breast-work which formed his footstool, he
said --"Now give me a gun:" and this is said to be the first
American gun which spoke on that memorable occasion. He continued to bear his
part till the battle was decided in favor of the American arms, and
contributed honorably to that result. THE
AMERICAN SOLDIER In
the battle of -------, Colonel Jesup, suspecting that his troops had expended
nearly all their cartridges, passed along the rear of the line, to make
inquiry as to the fact. Several soldiers who lay mortally wounded, some of
them actually in the agonies of death, hearing the inquiry, forgot for a
moment, in their devotion to their country, both the pain they endured and
the approach of death, and called out, each one for himself, "Here are
cartridges in my box --take and distribute them among my companions." A
soldier in the line exclaimed to his commander, "My musket is shot to
pieces." --His comrade, who lay expiring with his wounds at the distance
of a few feet, replied, ion a voice scarcely audible, "My musket is in
excellent order --take and use her." It
is no extravagance to assert, that an army of such men, commanded by officers
of corresponding merit, is literally invincible. BENEDICT
ARNOLD, THE TRAITOR Everybody
knows, we presume, that Benedict Arnold was the object of scorn and contempt
in England, after his treachery, and that he was often grossly insulted in
that country. The following anecdote, however, may be new to some of our
readers. Shortly
after the peace of '83, Arnold was presented at court. While the king was
conversing with him, Lord Balcarras, a stately old nobleman, who had fought
under Gen. Burgoyne in the campaigns of America, was presented. The king
introduced them with, "Lord
Balcarras --Gen. Arnold." "What,
sire," said the haughty old earl, drawing up his lofty form, "the
traitor Arnold!" And refused to give him his hand. The
consequence, as may be anticipated, was a challenge from Arnold. They met,
and it was arranged that the parties should fire together. At the signal,
Arnold fired; but Lord Balcarras, throwing down his pistol, turned on his
heel, and was walking away, when Arnold exclaimed. "Why
don't you fire, my lord?" "Sir,"
said Lord B., looking over his shoulder, "I leave you to the
executioner." GEN.
ANDREW PICKENS In
September, 1776 General Andrew Pickens, being then a major, belonged to an
army of two thousand men, composed of regulars and militia, commanded by
Colonel Williamson, which was sent on an expedition against the Cherokees,
who had been instigated by British emissaries to wage a war of extermination
against the frontier inhabitants of the country, now compelling Abbevill,
Laurens, and Spartanburgh districts. When this army had proceeded into the
Indian country, as far as the upper part of what is now Pickens District, it
was halted for a day or two, either for rest or to gain intelligence. During
this time, Major Pickens obtained permission to take twenty-five choice men,
to scout and reconnoiter the adjacent country. He had not proceeded more than
two miles, when early in the morning, after crossing a stream, now called
Little River, in passing through an old Indian field, along the margin of the
stream, which was covered with a thick grass, four or five feet high, more
than two hundred Indians, painted for war in the most hideous manner, were
seen rushing down the point of a ridge, directly upon them, with their guns
swinging in their left hands, and their tomahawks raised in their right;
their leader animating and exhorting them not to fire a gun, but to tomahawk
the white men, for they were but a handful. Brennan,
a half-breed, was one of the twenty-five, and he understanding them, told
what they said. Major Pickens and all his party were on foot, and he, as well
as every other, had his trusty rifle. He ordered his men not to fire until he
did, to take deliberate aim, and fire two at a time n succession, and to fall
in the grass and load. Brennan was by his side in front, and when the Indian
chief approached within about twenty-five yards, he and Brennan fired, and
two Indians fell; the fire of the other men was in succession, as directed,
and equally effective. This
invincible firmness, in so small a band, astonished and struck terror into
the savage ranks, and they immediately recoiled upon each other, dropped
their tomahawks, and resorting to their guns, gradually fell back, and were
picked out at leisure by the steady and unerring aim of this small band of
firm militia. After the fires or second fire, Brennan was shot down. But few
were killed or wounded of the whites; if they had not been brave men and
true, not one would have escaped. Major Pickens, in loading in a hurry, soon
choked his gun, when he picked up Brennan's, and continued to use it while
the Indians were in reach. How many of them were killed, could not be known,
as the Indians, in those times, always carried off their dead, whenever they
could, to prevent their enemies from acquiring their savage trophy, the
scalp; but it was believed a great number were killed, in proportion to the
number of combatants opposed to them. During
the action, one of the men observed that there was a constant firing from
behind a tree-root, and watching his opportunity when its occupant had to
expose himself to take aim, shot him in the head; and when one of his
comrades had taken up the dead body, and was making off with it, shot him
also, with as much coolness, as if he was shooting at a target, and they fell
one upon the other. The firing was heard at Williamson's camp, when Major
Pickens' younger brother, Joseph, (killed at the siege of '96,) who was a
captain, immediately summoned his followers, and hastened to his brother's
assistance. But before he could reach them, the Indians were beaten back, and
dispersing, and fleeing to the neighboring mountains. Captain Pickens was
often bold and loud in his abuse and crimination of men, who were tardy in their
movements for the deliverance of his brother, accusing them of cowardice; but
Major Pickens pacified and rebuked him for his warmth." GENERAL
STUART General
Stuart, of Maryland, who served at Eutaw, as a lieutenant, under Colonel Wm.
Washington, and who in the action was severely wounded, being recently called
upon to read the Declaration of Independence, before a numerous assemblage of
citizens, celebrating the birth-day of our liberty, appeared in full military
costume, fashioned according to the times in which he served. A
friend, familiarly commenting on the singularity of his appearance, and the
improved style of modern military dress, drew from him the following
observation: --"Our regimentals, in former days, were fashioned
according to the exigencies of the times, and were made more for use than
show. I admire the ancient garb exceedingly, and but for the death of my
venerated mother, should this day have appeared before the public clad in the
very waistcoat I had on when shot through the body at Eutaw. "The
good lady regarded it as a trophy, and earnestly requested that at her death
I would allow her the privilege of carrying it with her to the tomb. I was
sensible how much the affectionate feeling of parental love glowed in her
bosom, and of the pride she felt that I had bled in my country's service. To
have denied her request, would have evinced an insensibility which I could
never experience. Consent, on my part, was instantaneous and decided, and she
actually wore the waistcoat in question beneath the shroud in which she was
interred." LA
FAYETTE AND AN OLD SOLDIER, AT MONTGOMERY When
on his last visit to America, while at Montgomery, in the state of Alabama,
he was visited by a veteran who had served under him in many battles, whom he
immediately recognized as an orderly and most gallant soldier. After much
interesting and familiar conversation, the old man said, "There is one
thing, general, which it puzzles me to account for --when we served together,
I believed myself to be the youngest man of the two. But my locks are now
perfectly gray, and you do not appear to have a gray hair in your head."
"My good friend," replied the general, "you are altogether in
error, the advantage is totally on your side. The hair on your head is gray --
while I cannot boast a single hair on my head -- I wear a wig!" RED
JACKET It
happened during the revolutionary war, that a treaty was held with the
Indians, at which La Fayette was present. The object was to unite the various
tribes in amity with America. The majority of the chiefs was friendly, but
there was much opposition made to it, more especially by a young warrior, who
declared that when an alliance was entered into with America, he should
consider the sun of his country as set forever. In
his travels through the Indian country, when lately in America, it happened
at a large assemblage of chiefs, that LaFayette referred to the treaty in
question, and turning to red Jacket, said, "Pray tell me, if you can,
what has become of that daring youth, who so decidedly opposed all our
propositions for peace and amity? Does he still live -- and what is his
condition?" I myself am the man,' replied red Jacket, "the decided
enemy of the Americans, as long as the hope of opposing them with success
remained, but now their true and faithful ally until death." THE
RETORT COURTEOUS The
first American vessel that anchored in the river Thames, after the conclusion
of the revolutionary war, attracted great numbers to view the stars and
stripes in her colors. A British soldier hailed, in a contemptuous tone,
"From whence come ye, brother Jonathan?" The boatswain immediately
retorted, "Straight from Bunker's Hill and Yorktown: -- do you
understand?" THE
BEST ROAD IN AMERICA A
Bostonian, shortly after the conclusion of the revolutionary war, met a
British officer at a coffee-house in the city of London, when the
conversation turned on America. The son of Mars observed, that there was
nothing in America like St. James' Park "Oh yes," said the Yankee,
"We have as fine a common and as elegant a mall in Boston, as any you
can boast of, I'll assure you." "Well, which do you call the
best?" "Why," replied the American, "We reckon the road
leading from Saratoga in New York to Yorktown in Virginia, the best road in
America." No further inquiries on the subject were made. BRITISH
INGRATITUDE A
British frigate sailing up Delaware Bay, in the spring of 1777, descried a
vessel making towards them as if they had been friends, which, when within
reach of the frigate's guns, obeyed the signal and came to. She was the
schooner Raven of Nantucket, commanded by Capt. Jenkins, a Quaker. Scarcely
had the British officer, with the boat's crew, boarded and taken possession
of the Raven, when the frigate struck on the Brandywine shoals. Every means
was resorted to, to lighten her and get her off; the water was started from
the butts of the upper tier, and it was proposed to throw the guns overboard. In
this extremity, the boat's crew returned on board the frigate, where their
presence was required; the officer only remaining on board of the prize.
Jenkins, the master of the schooner, a powerful man, raised the prize-master
in his arms, and held him up, as if he had been an infant:
"Friend," said he, "I have only to throw thee overboard, and
return to Philadelphia; but I will not take advantage of thy distress. I will
go on board the frigate, and act the part of a friend, by using my best
endeavors to free her of her peril." He went, and by his assistance and
intelligence, the frigate was once more brought into deep water; which,
without his aid, could not have been accomplished. Captain
Jenkins was a man of an uncommonly large stature and athletic made; but mild
and gentle in his deportment. He displayed feats of strength on board the
frigate, which entitled him to a place in the foremost rank of those whose
surprising muscular powers have acquired them celebrity. Coffin, the mate,
possessed a more vigorous mind, and of the two, was the most interesting.
This man, without money in his pocket, had landed in Boston, in his early
youth, and penetrating into the interior, had spent several years among the
Indian tribes of both Americans, studying their manners, and conforming
himself to their usages. He had visited the greater portion of those tribes;
and his details respecting them, and what he had seen besides, were a
constant fund of entertainment to his enemies, while he, as a prisoner, was
pining inwardly of griefs. He wore an air of tranquil content, and stifled
his sorrows in the efforts he made to contribute to their amusement. Their
schooner had been to Philadelphia with a cargo of dried fish, and was
returning with a lading of flour, then much wanted at Nantucket, which is too
barren to raise corn. Friend Jenkins, in the simplicity of his heart,
supposed that he had merely to relate his artless tale, of the necessity of
his fellow-islanders, when he would be allowed to proceed. He did not remind
them of the services he had rendered; nor did they think, that but for him, they
would have been obliged to be contented with the scanty accommodations of a
few small boats. The schooner was old and crazy, and would bring little or
nothing in New York, already glutted with prizes of this description; and the
gift would have been of minor importance, even with the addition of a part of
her cargo, if a feeling of gratitude had existed in their minds. But
the barbarous usages of war ordered it otherwise. She had carried a supply to
an enemy's port, and was to be delivered over to the court of vice-admiralty
at New York. The captain and crew were confined as prisoners of war; and
before the frigate returned from her next cruise, were all swept off by the
contagious fever, which then raged in the jail of New York! MRS.
M'KAY AND COLONEL BROWN In
the beginning of June, 1781, the British garrison at Augusta, Georgia,
capitulated to the American forces, under the command of Gen. Pickens and
Col. H. Lee, of the partisan legion; Col. Grierson, who was obnoxious to the
Americans, on account of his barbarities, was shot down by an unknown hand,
after he was a prisoner. A reward of one hundred guineas was offered to any
person who would point out the offender, but in vain. Colonel Brown, the
British commander, expecting the same fate, conscious that he deserved it,
from his unrelenting and vindictive disposition towards the Americans, was
furnished with a guard, although he had hanged thirteen American prisoners,
and had given others into the hands of the Indians to be tortured. On his way
to Savannah, he passed through the settlements where he had burnt a number of
houses, and hung some of the relations of the inhabitants. At
Silverbluff, Mrs. M'Kay obtained leave of the American officer, who commanded
his safeguard, to speak to him; when she thus addressed him: "Colonel
Brown, in the late day of your prosperity, I visited your camp and on my
knees supplicated for the life of my only son; but you were deaf to my
entreaties, you hanged him, though a beardless youth, before my face. These eyes
have seen him scalped by the savages under your immediate command, and for no
better reason than that his name was M’Kay. As you are now a prisoner to the
leaders of my country, for the resent I lay aside all thoughts of revenge;
but when you resume your sword, I will go five hundred miles to demand
satisfaction at the point of it, for the murder oF my son!" YANKEE
INDIGNATION When
Arnold's treason was known at Philadelphia, an artist of that city
constructed an effigy of him, large as life, and seated in a cart, with a
figure of the devil at his elbow, holding a lantern up to the face of the
traitor, to show him to the people, having his name and crime in capital
letters. The cart was paraded the whole evening through the streets of the
city, with drums and fifes playing the rogue's march, with other marks of
infamy, and was attended by a vast concourse of people. The
effigy was finally hanged for want of the original, and then committed to the
flames. Yet this is the man on whom the British bestowed ten thousand pounds
sterling, as the price of his treason, and appointed to the rank of
brigadier-general in their service. It could scarcely be imagined there was
an office of honor left in that army, who would debase himself and his
commission by serving under or ranking with Benedict Arnold! MAGNANIMITY
OF M. DE BOUILLE While
M. De Bouille was commandant general of the French West India Islands, during
the American revolution, a British transport was cast away on one of them,
which had on board several hundred men; who being in a most deplorable
situation, supplicated the marquis for relief, and to make them prisoners of
war. "No," replied the general, "the king my master does not
make war with the elements. Had you been taken in battle, you should remain
his prisoners; but your ease is otherwise. I have ordered you clothing and
refreshments, and directed a ship to be got ready to transport you to the
dominions of your sovereign." THE
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