Revolutionary Reader: Reminiscences and Indian Legends
by Sophie Lee Foster · English · Gutenberg #46400 · 712,485 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of Revolutionary Reader: Reminiscences and Indian Legends
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: Revolutionary Reader: Reminiscences and Indian Legends
Author: Sophie Lee Foster
Release date: July 24, 2014 [eBook #46400]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/46400
Credits: Produced by Greg Bergquist, John Campbell and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK REVOLUTIONARY READER: REMINISCENCES AND INDIAN LEGENDS ***
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors
have been corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences
within the text and consultation of external sources.
More detail can be found at the end of the book.
Revolutionary Reader
REMINISCENCES AND
INDIAN LEGENDS
COMPILED BY
SOPHIE LEE FOSTER
STATE REGENT
DAUGHTERS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION OF GEORGIA
ATLANTA, GA.:
BYRD PRINTING COMPANY
1913
_COPYRIGHTED 1913_
_BY_
_SOPHIE LEE FOSTER_
_DEDICATION_
_As my work has been a labor of love, I therefore affectionately
dedicate this book to the Daughters of the
American Revolution of Georgia._
September 4, 1913.
MRS. SHEPPARD W. FOSTER,
Atlanta, Georgia.
My Dear Mrs. Foster:--To say that I am delighted with your
Revolutionary Reader is to state the sheer truth in very mild
terms. It is a marvel to me how you could gather together so many
charmingly written articles, each of them illustrative of some
dramatic phase of the great struggle for independence. There
is much in this book of local interest to each section. There
is literally nothing which does not carry with it an appeal of
the most profound interest to the general reader, whether in
Georgia or New England. You have ignored no part of the map. I
congratulate you upon your wonderful success in the preparation of
your Revolutionary Reader. It is marvelously rich in contents and
broadly American in spirit.
Sincerely your friend,
(Signed) LUCIAN LAMAR KNIGHT.
September 8, 1913.
MRS. S. W. FOSTER,
711 Peachtree Street.
I like very much your plan of a Revolutionary reader. I hope it
will be adopted by the school boards of the various states as a
supplementary reader so that it may have a wide circulation.
Yours sincerely,
JOSEPH T. DERRY.
CONTENTS
PAGE
America 11
Washington's Name 12
Washington's Inauguration 13
Important Characters of the Revolutionary Period in American
History 14
Battle of Alamance 20
Battle of Lexington 22
Signers of Declaration 35
Life at Valley Forge 37
Old Williamsburg 46
Song of the Revolution 52
A True Story of the Revolution 53
Georgia Poem 55
Forts of Georgia 56
James Edward Oglethorpe 59
The Condition of Georgia During the Revolution 61
Fort Rutledge of the Revolution 65
The Efforts of LaFayette for the Cause of American
Independence 72
James Jackson 77
Experiences of Joab Horne 79
Historical Sketch of Margaret Katherine Barry 81
Art and Artists of the Revolution 84
"Uncle Sam" Explained Again 87
An Episode of the War of the Revolution 88
State Flowers 93
Georgia State History, Naming of the Counties 95
An Historic Tree 100
Independence Day 101
Kitty 102
Battle of Kettle Creek 108
A Daring Exploit of Grace and Rachael Martin 111
A Revolutionary Puzzle 112
South Carolina in the Revolution 112
Lyman Hall 118
A Romance of Revolutionary Times 120
Fort Motte, South Carolina 121
Peter Strozier 123
Independence Day 125
Sarah Gilliam Williamson 127
A Colonial Hiding Place 129
A Hero of the Revolution 131
John Paul Jones 132
The Real Georgia Cracker 135
The Dying Soldier 136
When Benjamin Franklin Scored 139
A Revolutionary Baptising 139
George Walton 140
Thomas Jefferson 143
Orators of the American Revolution 150
The Flag of Our Country (Poem) 154
The Old Virginia Gentleman 155
When Washington Was Wed (Poem) 160
Rhode Island in the American Revolution 162
Georgia and Her Heroes in the Revolution 168
United States Treasury Seal 173
Willie Was Saved 174
Virginia Revolutionary Forts 175
Uncrowned Queens and Kings as Shown Through Humorous
Incidents of the Revolution 185
A Colonial Story 192
Molly Pitcher for Hall of Fame 195
Revolutionary Relics 196
Tragedy of the Revolution Overlooked by Historians 197
John Martin 204
John Stark, Revolutionary Soldier 206
Benjamin Franklin 209
Captain Mugford 211
Governor John Clarke 214
Party Relations in England and Their Effect on the American
Revolution 221
Early Means of Transportation by Land and Water 228
Colonel Benjamin Hawkins 236
Governor Jared Irwin 240
Education of Men and Women of the American Revolution 243
Nancy Hart 252
Battle of Kings Mountain (Poem) 255
William Cleghorn 257
The Blue Laws of Old Virginia 259
Elijah Clarke 264
Francis Marion 266
Light Horse Harry 274
Our Legacy (Poem) 276
The Ride of Mary Slocumb 277
The Hobson Sisters 284
Washington's March Through Somerset County, N. J. 289
Hannah Arnett 293
Button Gwinnett 298
Forced by Pirates to Walk The Plank 300
Georgia Women of Early Days 301
Robert Sallette 308
General LaFayette's Visit to Macon 312
Yes! Tomorrow's Flag Day (Poem) 317
Flag Day 319
End of the Revolution 328
Indian Legends
Counties of Georgia Bearing Indian Names 330
Story of Early Indian Days 331
Chief Vann House 332
Indian Tale 334
William White and Daniel Boone 336
The Legend of Lovers' Leap 337
Indian Mound 344
Storiette of States Derived from Indian Names 346
Cherokee Alphabet 348
The Boy and His Arrow 351
Indian Spring, Georgia 353
Tracing The McIntosh Trail 367
Georgia School Song 369
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Facing
Page
Fraunces Tavern 11
Ruins of Old Fort at Frederica 58
Monument to Gen. Oglethorpe 60
Indian Treaty Tree 98
The Old Liberty Bell 130
Carpenter's Hall 170
Monument Site of Old Cornwallis 266
Birthplace of Old Glory 318
Chief Vann House 330
Map of McIntosh Trail 366
Map of Georgia, Showing Colonial, Revolutionary and
Indian War Period Forts, Battle Fields and Treaty Spots 370
PREFACE.
Since it is customary to write a preface, should any one attempt the
somewhat hazardous task of compiling a book, it is my wish, as the
editor, in sending this book forth (to live or die according to its
merits) to take advantage of this custom to offer a short explanation
as to its mission. It is not to be expected that a volume, containing
so many facts gathered from numerous sources, will be entirely free
from criticism. The securing of material for compiling this book was
first planned through my endeavors to stimulate greater enthusiasm
in revolutionary history, biography of revolutionary period, Indian
legends, etc., by having storiettes read at the various meetings of the
Daughters of the American Revolution, and in this way not only creating
interest in Chapter work, but accumulating much valuable heretofore
unpublished data pertaining to this important period in American
history; with a view of having same printed in book form, suitable for
our public schools, to be known as a Revolutionary Reader.
At first it was my intention only to accept for this reader unpublished
storiettes relating to Georgia history, but realizing this work could
not be completed under this plan, during my term of office as State
Regent, I decided to use material selected from other reliable sources,
and endeavored to make it as broad and general in scope as possible
that it might better fulfill its purpose.
To the Daughters of the American Revolution of Georgia this book is
dedicated. Its production has been a labor of love, and should its
pages be the medium through which American patriotism may be encouraged
and perpetuated I shall feel many times repaid for the effort.
To the Chapters of the Daughters of American Revolution of Georgia for
storiettes furnished, to the newspapers for clippings, to the _American
Monthly Magazine_ for articles, to Miss Annie M. Lane, Miss Helen
Prescott, Mr. Lucian Knight and Professor Derry, I wish to express my
deep appreciation for material help given.
SOPHIE LEE FOSTER.
[Illustration: FRAUNCES TAVERN, OF COLONIAL AND REVOLUTIONARY FAME, ON
PEARL STREET, CORNER OF BROAD, NEW YORK.
It was here that Washington bade farewell to his officers, December
4, 1783. Purchased in 1904 by the New York Society of the Sons of the
American Revolution, and now occupied by them as headquarters.]
AMERICA.
1. My Country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where our fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From every mountain side
Let freedom ring.
2. My native Country, thee,
Land of the noble free,
Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills,
My heart with rapture thrills,
Like that above.
3. Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees,
Sweet Freedom's song;
Let mortal tongues awake,
Let all that breathe partake,
Let rocks their silence break,
The sound prolong.
4. Our Father's God, to Thee,
Author of liberty,
To Thee we sing;
Long may our land be bright,
With Freedom's holy light,
Protect us with Thy might,
Great God, our King!
WASHINGTON'S NAME.
At the celebration of Washington's Birthday, Maury Public School,
District of Columbia, Miss Helen T. Doocy recited the following
beautiful poem written specially for her by Mr. Michael Scanlon:
Let nations grown old in the annals of glory
Retrace their red marches of conquest and tears,
And glean with deft hands, from the pages of story
The names which emblazon their centuried years--
Bring them forth, ev'ry deed which their prowess bequeathed
Unto them caught up from the echoes of fame;
Yet thus, round their brows all their victories wreathed,
They'll pale in the light of our Washington's Name!
Oh, ye who snatched fame from the nation's disasters
And fired your ambitions at glory's red springs,
To bask, for an hour, in the smiles of your masters,
And flash down life's current, the bubbles of kings,
Stand forth with your blood-purchased trappings upon you,
The need of your treason, the price of your shame,
And mark how the baubles which tyranny won you
Will pale in the light of our Washington's Name!
Parade your proud trophies and pile up your arches,
And flaunt your blood banner, oh, trumpet-tongued War!
But ruin and woe mark the lines of your marches,
While Liberty, captive, is chained to your car;
But, lo! in the west there flasht out to defend her
A sword which was sheened in humanity's flame,
And Virtue, secure, glass'd her form in its splendor--
The splendor which haloes our Washington's Name!
The kings whose dread names have led captive the ages
Now sink in the sands of their passion and lust;
Their blood-roll of carnage in history's pages
Is closed, and their names will go down to the dust.
But long as a banner to Freedom is flying
No shadow can rest on his sunshine of fame,
For glory has crowned him with beauty undying,
And time will but brighten our Washington's Name!
--_American Monthly Magazine._
WASHINGTON'S INAUGURATION.
BY REV. THOMAS B. GREGORY.
On April 30, 1789, at Federal Hall, George Washington was duly
inaugurated first President of the United States, and the great
experiment of self-government on these Western shores was fairly begun.
The beginning was most auspicious. Than Washington no finer man ever
stood at the forefront of a nation's life. Of Washington America is
eminently proud, and of Washington America has the right to be proud,
for the "Father of His Country" was, in every sense of the word, a
whole man. Time has somewhat disturbed the halo that for a long while
held the place about the great man's head. It has been proven that
Washington was human, and all the more thanks for that. But after the
closest scrutiny, from every part of the world, for a century and a
quarter, it is still to be proven that anything mean, or mercenary, or
dishonorable or unpatriotic ever came near the head or heart of our
first President.
Washington loved his country with a whole heart. He was a patriot to
the core. His first, last and only ambition was to do what he could to
promote the high ends to which the Republic was dedicated. Politics, as
defined by Aristotle, is the "science of government." Washington was
not a learned man, and probably knew very little of Aristotle, but his
head was clear and his heart was pure, and he, too, felt that politics
was the science of government, and that the result of the government
should be the "greatest good to the greatest number" of his fellow
citizens.
From that high and sacred conviction Washington never once swerved,
and when he quit his exalted office he did so with clean hands and
unsmirched fame, leaving behind him a name which is probably the most
illustrious in the annals of the race.
Rapid and phenomenal has been the progress of Washington's country! It
seems like a dream rather than the soundest of historical facts. The
Romans, after fighting "tooth and nail" for 300 years, found themselves
with a territory no larger than that comprised within the limits of
Greater New York. In 124 years the Americans are the owners of a
territory in comparison with which the Roman Empire, when at the height
of its glory, was but a small affair--a territory wherein are operant
the greatest industrial, economic, moral and political forces that this
old planet ever witnessed.
IMPORTANT CHARACTERS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD IN AMERICAN HISTORY.
To make a subject interesting and beneficial to us we must have a
personal interest in it. This is brought about in three ways: It
touches our pride, if it be our country; it excites our curiosity as to
what it really is, if it be history; and we desire to know what part
our ancestors took in it, if it be war.
So, we see the period of the Revolutionary war possesses all three
of these elements; and was in reality the beginning of true American
life--"America for Americans."
Prior to this time (during the Colonial period) America was under
the dominion of the lords proprietors--covering the years of 1663 to
1729--and royal governors--from 1729 to 1775--the appointees of the
English sovereign, and whose rule was for self-aggrandizement. The very
word "Revolutionary" proclaims oppression, for where there is justice
shown by the ruler to the subjects there is no revolt, nor will there
ever be.
We usually think of the battle of Lexington (April 19, 1775,) as being
the bugle note that culminated in the Declaration of Independence and
reached its final grand chord at Yorktown, October 19, 1781; but on
the 16th of May, 1771, some citizens of North Carolina, finding the
extortions and exactions of the royal governor, Tryon, more than they
could or would bear, took up arms in self-defense and fought on the
Alamance River what was in reality the first battle of the Revolution.
The citizens' loss was thirty-six men, while the governor lost almost
sixty of his royal troops. This battle of the Alamance was the seed
sown that budded in the Declaration of Mecklenburg in 1775, and came to
full flower in the Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776.
There were stages in this flower of American liberty to which we will
give a cursory glance.
The determination of the colonies not to purchase British goods had a
marked effect on England. Commercial depression followed, and public
opinion soon demanded some concession to the Americans.
All taxes were remitted or repealed except that upon tea; when there
followed the most _exciting_, if not the most enjoyable party in the
world's history--the "Boston Tea Party," which occurred on the evening
of December 16, 1773.
This was followed in March, 1774, by the Boston Port Bill, the first in
the series of retaliation by England for the "Tea Party."
At the instigation of Virginia a new convention of the colonies was
called to meet September, 1774, to consider "the grievances of the
people." This was the second Colonial and the first Continental
congress to meet in America, and occurred September 5, 1774, at
Philadelphia. All the colonies were represented, except Georgia, whose
governor would not allow it.
They then adjourned to meet May 10, 1775, after having passed a
declaration of rights, framed an address to the king and people of
England, and recommended the suspension of all commercial relations
with the mother country.
The British minister, William Pitt, wrote of that congress: "For
solidity of reasoning, force of sagacity and wisdom of conclusion, no
nation or body of men can stand in preference to the general congress
of Philadelphia."
Henceforth the Colonists were known as "Continentals," in
contradistinction to the "Royalists" or "Tories," who were the
adherents of the crown.
No period of our history holds more for the student, young or old, than
this of the Revolutionary war, or possesses greater charm when once
taken up.
No man or woman can be as good a citizen without some knowledge of this
most interesting subject, nor enjoy so fully their grand country!
Some one has pertinently said "history is innumerable biographies;" and
what child or grown person is there who does not enjoy being told of
some "great person?" Every man, private, military or civil officer, who
took part in the Revolutionary war was great!
It is not generally known that the _executive power_ of the state
rested in those troublesome times in the county committees; but it was
they who executed all the orders of the Continental Congress.
The provincial council was for the whole state; the district committee
for the safety of each district, and the county and town committees for
each county and town.
It was through the thought, loyalty and enduring bravery of the men
who constituted these committees, that we of today have a constitution
that gives us "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness"--in whatever
manner pleases us, so long as it does not trespass on another's well
being.
We do not give half the honor we should to our ancestry, who have done
so much for us! We zealously seek and preserve the pedigrees of our
horses, cows and chickens, and really do not _know_ whether we come
from a mushroom or a monkey!
When we think of it, it is a much more honorable and greater thing to
be a Son or Daughter of the American Revolution, than to be a prince
or princess, for one comes through noble deeds done by thinking,
justice-loving men, and the other through an accident of birth. Let
us examine a little into a few of these "biographies" and see wherein
their greatness lies, that they like righteous Abel, "though dead yet
speak."
The number seven stands for completeness and perfection--let us see if
seven imaginary questions can be answered by their lives.
James Edward Oglethorpe was born in 1696, and died in 1785--two years
after the Revolutionary war. He planted the Colony of Georgia, in
which the oppressed found refuge. He had served in the army of Prince
Eugene of Savoy in the war with the Turks. He founded the city of
Savannah, Georgia. He exported to England the first silk made in the
colonies, of which the queen had a dress made. King George II gave
him a seal representing a family of silk worms, with their motto:
"Not for ourselves but for others." He forbade the importation of rum
into the colony. He refused the command of the British forces sent in
1775 to reduce, or subdue the American Colonies. In this life told in
seven questions, or rather answered, we find much--a religious man,
a soldier, an architect (of a city), one versed in commerce, a wise
legislator and a man who had the respect of the king--the head of
England.
The next in chronological order is Benjamin Franklin (for whom our
little city is named), born in 1706, died in 1790. He discovered the
identity of lightning and electricity, and invented the lightning
rods. He was an early printer who edited and published "Poor Richard's
Almanac." Of him it was said, "He snatched the lightning from heaven
and the sceptre from tyrants."
He founded the first circulating library in America. His portrait
is seen to-day on every one-cent postage stamp. He was America's
ambassador to France during the Revolutionary war.
He said after signing the Declaration of Independence, "We must all
hang together or we shall all hang separately."
In him, we find an inventor and discoverer, an editor and author, a
benefactor, a politician and statesman, and one whose face we daily see
on account of his greatness.
George Washington was born 1732, and died 1799. He was the first
president of the United States--"The Father of His Country," the
commander-in-chief of the American forces in the Revolutionary war. He
was the hero of Valley Forge, and the one to receive the surrender of
Cornwallis at Yorktown.
He was the president of the convention that framed the United States
constitution. The one of whom it was said, "He was the first in war,
the first in peace, and the first in the hearts of his countrymen."
It is his--and his only--birthday America celebrates as a national
holiday. Of him Lord Byron said, "The first, the last, and the best,
the Cincinnatus of the West." How much do seven short paragraphs tell!
Patrick Henry was born in 1736, died 1799, the same year that
Washington "passed away;" and like his, this life can speak for itself.
He was the most famous orator of the Revolution. He said, "give me
liberty or give me death!" He also said, "We must fight. An appeal to
arms and to the god of battles is all that is left us. I repeat it,
sir, we must fight." Another saying of his was, "Caesar had his Brutus,
Charles I his Cromwell, and George III--may profit by their example."
Again, "The people, and only the people, have a right to tax the
people." He won in the famous Parson's case, the epithet of "The Orator
of Nature." He was the first governor of the Colony of Virginia after
it became a state.
John Hancock was born in 1737, and died 1793. He first signed the
Declaration of Independence. He was a rich Boston merchant as well as
a Revolutionary leader. He was chosen president of the Continental
congress in 1775. He and Samuel Adams were the two especially excepted
from pardon offered the "rebels" by the English.
As president of congress he signed the commission of George Washington
as commander-in-chief of the army.
When he signed the Declaration of Independence he said, "The British
ministry can read that name without spectacles; let them double
their reward." He was elected the first governor of the state of
Massachusetts in 1780.
Anthony Wayne was born in 1745, and died in 1796. He was often called
"Mad Anthony" on account of his intrepidity. He was the hero of Stony
Point. He built a fort on the spot of St. Clair's defeat and named
it Fort Recovery. He was made commander-in-chief of the Army of the
Northwest in 1792. He gained a great victory over the Miami Indians in
Ohio in 1794. He, as a Revolutionary general, banished whiskey from
his camp calling it "ardent poison"--from whence came the expression
"ardent spirits" when applied to stimulants. Major Andre composed a
poem about him called the "Cow Chase," showing how he captured supplies
for the Americans.
Alexander Hamilton was born in 1757, and died in 1804. He was
aide-de-camp to Washington in 1777--the most trying year of the entire
Revolutionary war. He succeeded Washington as commander-in-chief of the
United States army. He was the first secretary of the treasury of the
United States. He founded the financial system of the United States.
He was the Revolutionary statesman who said, "Reformers make opinions,
and opinions make parties"--a true aphorism to-day. He is known as the
"prince of politicians, or America's greatest political genius." His
brilliant career was cut short at the age of 43 by Aaron Burr--whose
life is summed up in two sad, bitter lines:
"His country's curse, his children's shame;
Outcast of virtue, peace and fame."
Although John Paul Jones was not a Revolutionary soldier on the land,
yet he was "the Washington of the Seas."
He was born in 1747 and died 1792. He was the first to hoist an
American naval flag on board an American frigate. He fought the first
naval engagement under the United States' national ensign or flag.
He commanded the _Bon Homme Richard_ in the great sea fight with the
_Serapis_ in the English Channel.
He said, after the commander of the _Serapis_ had been knighted, "if
I should have the good fortune to meet him again, I will make a lord
of him." He was presented with a sword by Louis XVI for his services
against the English. He was appointed rear-admiral of the Russian fleet
by Catherine II.
These are but a few of the many men who did so valiantly their part
during the Revolutionary period.
SUSIE GENTRY,
_State Vice-Regent, D. A. R._
(A talk made to the public school teachers of Williamson County--at the
request of the superintendent of instruction--in Franklin, Tennessee,
January 13, 1906.)--_American Monthly Magazine._
THE BATTLE OF ALAMANCE.
BY REV. THOMAS B. GREGORY.
At the battle of Alamance, N. C., fought May 16, 1771, was shed
the first blood of the great struggle which was to result in the
establishment of American independence.
All honor to Lexington, where the "embattled farmers" fired shots that
were "heard around the world," but let it not be forgotten that other
farmers, almost four years before the day of Lexington, opened the
fight of which Lexington was only the continuation.
The principles for which the North Carolina farmers fought at Alamance
were identified with those for which Massachusetts farmers fought
at Lexington. Of the Massachusetts patriots nineteen were killed and
wounded, while of the Carolina patriots over 200 lay killed or crippled
upon the field and six, later on, died upon the scaffold, yet, while
all the world has heard of Lexington, not one person in a thousand
knows anything to speak of about Alamance.
William Tryon, the royal Governor of North Carolina, was so mean that
they called him the "Wolf." In the name of his royal master and for
the furtherance of his own greedy instincts Tryon oppressed the people
of his province to the point where they were obliged to do one or two
things--resist him or become slaves. They resolved to resist and formed
themselves into an organization known as "Regulators," a body of as
pure patriots as ever shouldered a gun.
Having protested time and again against the unlawful taxation under
which they groaned, they finally quit groaning, raised the cry of
freedom and rose in arms against Tryon and King George.
To the number of 2,000 or 3,000 the Regulators, only partly armed and
without organization, met the forces of the royal Governor at Alamance.
"Lay down your guns or I will fire!" shouted the British commander.
"Fire and be damned!" shouted back the leader of the Regulators. At
once the battle opened, and, of course, the Regulators were defeated
and dispersed. But old Tryon received the lesson he had so long
needed--that, while Americans could be shot down on the battlefield,
they could not be made tamely to submit to the high-handed oppression
of King George and his creatures.
THE BATTLE OF LEXINGTON APRIL 19, 1775.
On the afternoon of the day on which the Provincial Congress of
Massachusetts adjourned, General Gage took the light infantry and
grenadiers off duty and secretly prepared an expedition to destroy the
colony's stores at Concord. The attempt had for several weeks been
expected, and signals were concerted to announce the first movement
of troops for the country. Samuel Adams and Hancock, who had not yet
left Lexington for Philadelphia, received a timely message from Warren,
and in consequence the Committee of Safety moved a part of the public
stores and secreted the cannon.
On Tuesday, the eighteenth of April, ten or more British sergeants in
disguise dispersed themselves through Cambridge and farther west to
intercept all communication. In the following night the grenadiers and
light infantry, not less than eight hundred in number, the flower of
the army at Boston, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Smith, crossed in
the boats of the transport ships from the foot of the Common at East
Cambridge.
Gage directed that no one else should leave the town, but Warren had,
at ten o'clock, dispatched William Dawes through Roxbury and Paul
Revere by way of Charlestown to Lexington.
Revere stopped only to engage a friend to raise the concerted signals,
and two friends rowed him across the Charles River five minutes before
the sentinels received the order to prevent it. All was still, as
suited the hour. The _Somerset_, man-of-war, was winding with the young
flood; the waning moon just peered above a clear horizon, while from a
couple of lanterns in the tower of the North Church the beacon streamed
to the neighboring towns as fast as light could travel.
A little beyond Charlestown Neck Revere was intercepted by two British
officers on horseback, but being well mounted he turned suddenly and
escaped by the road to Medford. In that town he waked the captain and
Minute Men, and continued to rouse almost every house on the way to
Lexington, making the memorable ride of Paul Revere. The troops had not
advanced far when the firing of guns and ringing of bells announced
that their expedition had been heralded, and Smith sent back for a
reinforcement.
Early on the nineteenth of April the message from Warren reached
Adams and Hancock, who at once divined the object of the expedition.
Revere, therefore, and Dawes, joined by Samuel Prescott, "a high Son
of Liberty" from Concord, rode forward, calling up the inhabitants as
they passed along, till in Lincoln they fell upon a party of British
officers. Revere and Dawes were seized and taken back to Lexington,
where they were released, but Prescott leaped over a low stone wall and
galloped on for Concord.
There, at about two hours after midnight, a peal from the bell of the
meeting house brought together the inhabitants of the place, young
and old, with their firelocks, ready to make good the resolute words
of their town debates. Among the most alert was William Emerson, the
minister, with gun in hand, his powder horn and pouch of balls slung
over his shoulder. By his sermons and his prayers his flock learned to
hold the defense of their liberties a part of their covenant with God.
His presence with arms strengthened their sense of duty.
From daybreak to sunrise, the summons ran from house to house through
Acton. Express messengers and the call of Minute Men spread widely
the alarm. How children trembled as they were scared out of sleep by
the cries! How women, with heaving breasts, bravely seconded their
husbands! How the countrymen, forced suddenly to arm, without guides or
counsellors, took instant counsel of their courage! The mighty chorus
of voices rose from the scattered farmhouses, and, as it were, from the
ashes of the dead. "Come forth, champions of liberty; now free your
country; protect your sons and daughters, your wives and homesteads;
rescue the houses of the God of your fathers, the franchises handed
down from your ancestors." Now all is at stake; the battle is for all.
Lexington, in 1775, may have had seven hundred inhabitants. Their
minister was the learned and fervent Jonas Clark, the bold inditer of
patriotic state papers, that may yet be read on their town records. In
December, 1772, they had instructed their representative to demand "a
radical and lasting redress of their grievances, for not through their
neglect should the people be enslaved." A year later they spurned the
use of tea. In 1774, at various town meetings, they voted "to increase
their stock of ammunition," "to encourage military discipline, and
to put themselves in a posture of defense against their enemies." In
December they distributed to "the train band and alarm list" arms and
ammunition and resolved to "supply the training soldiers with bayonets."
At two in the morning, under the eye of the minister, and of Hancock
and Adams, Lexington Common was alive with the Minute Men. The roll
was called and, of militia and alarm men, about one hundred and thirty
answered to their names. The captain, John Parker, ordered everyone
to load with powder and ball, but to take care not to be the first to
fire. Messengers sent to look for the British regulars reported that
there were no signs of their approach. A watch was therefore set, and
the company dismissed with orders to come together at beat of drum.
The last stars were vanishing from night when the foremost party, led
by Pitcairn, a major of marines, was discovered advancing quickly
and in silence. Alarm guns were fired and the drums beat, not a call
to village husbandmen only, but the reveille of humanity. Less than
seventy, perhaps less than sixty, obeyed the summons, and, in sight of
half as many boys and unarmed men, were paraded in two ranks a few rods
north of the meeting house.
The British van, hearing the drum and the alarm guns, halted to load;
the remaining companies came up, and, at half an hour before sunrise,
the advance party hurried forward at double quick time, almost upon a
run, closely followed by the grenadiers. Pitcairn rode in front and
when within five or six rods of the Minute Men, cried out: "Disperse,
ye villains! Ye rebels, disperse! Lay down your arms! Why don't you
lay down your arms and disperse?" The main part of the countrymen
stood motionless in the ranks, witnesses against aggression, too few
to resist, too brave to fly. At this Pitcairn discharged a pistol, and
with a loud voice cried "Fire!" The order was followed first by a few
guns, which did no execution, and then by a close and deadly discharge
of musketry.
Jonas Parker, the strongest and best wrestler in Lexington, had
promised never to run from British troops, and he kept his vow. A
wound brought him on his knees. Having discharged his gun he was
preparing to load it again when he was stabbed by a bayonet and lay
on the post which he took at the morning's drum beat. So fell Isaac
Muzzey, and so died the aged Robert Munroe, who in 1758 had been an
ensign at Louisburg. Jonathan Harrington, Jr., was struck in front of
his own house on the north of the common. His wife was at the window
as he fell. With blood gushing from his breast, he rose in her sight,
tottered, fell again, then crawled on hands and knees toward his
dwelling; she ran to meet him, but only reached him as he expired on
their threshold. Caleb Harrington, who had gone into the meeting house
for powder, was shot as he came out. Samuel Hadley and John Brown
were pursued and killed after they had left the green. Asabel Porter,
of Woburn, who had been taken prisoner by the British on the march,
endeavoring to escape, was shot within a few rods of the common. Seven
men of Lexington were killed, nine wounded, a quarter part of all who
stood in arms on the green.
There on the green lay in death the gray-haired and the young; the
grassy field was red "with the innocent blood of their brethren
slain," crying unto God for vengeance from the ground.
These are the village heroes who were more than of noble blood, proving
by their spirit that they were of a race divine. They gave their lives
in testimony to the rights of mankind, bequeathing to their country
an assurance of success in the mighty struggle which they began. The
expanding millions of their countrymen renew and multiply their praise
from generation to generation. They fulfilled their duty not from an
accidental impulse of the moment; their action was the ripened fruit of
Providence and of time.
Heedless of his own danger, Samuel Adams, with the voice of a prophet,
exclaimed: "Oh, what a glorious morning is this!" for he saw his
country's independence hastening on, and, like Columbus in the tempest,
knew that the storm bore him more swiftly toward the undiscovered land.
The British troops drew up on the village green, fired a volley,
huzzaed thrice by way of triumph, and after a halt of less than thirty
minutes, marched on for Concord. There, in the morning hours, children
and women fled for shelter to the hills and the woods and men were
hiding what was left of cannon and military stores.
The Minute Men and militia formed on the usual parade, over which the
congregation of the town for near a century and a half had passed to
public worship, the freemen to every town meeting, and lately the
patriot members of the Provincial Congress twice a day to their little
senate house. Near that spot Winthrop, the father of Massachusetts,
had given counsel; and Eliot, the apostle of the Indians, had spoken
words of benignity and wisdom. The people of Concord, of whom about two
hundred appeared in arms on that day, derived their energy from their
sense of the divine power.
The alarm company of the place rallied near the Liberty Pole on the
hill, to the right of the Lexington road, in the front of the meeting
house. They went to the perilous duties of the day "with seriousness
and acknowledgment of God," as though they were to engage in acts of
worship. The minute company of Lincoln, and a few men from Acton,
pressed in at an early hour; but the British, as they approached,
were seen to be four times as numerous as the Americans. The latter,
therefore, retreated, first to an eminence eighty rods farther north,
then across Concord River, by the North Bridge, till just beyond it, by
a back road, they gained high ground about a mile from the center of
the town. There they waited for aid.
About seven o'clock, under brilliant sunshine, the British marched with
rapid step into Concord, the light infantry along the hills and the
grenadiers in the lower road.
At daybreak the Minute Men of Acton crowded at the drum-beat to the
house of Isaac Davis, their captain, who "made haste to be ready." Just
thirty years old, the father of four little ones, stately in person, a
man of few words, earnest even to solemnity, he parted from his wife,
saying: "Take good care of the children," and while she gazed after him
with resignation he led off his company.
Between nine and ten the number of Americans on the rising ground above
Concord Bridge had increased to more than four hundred. Of these, there
were twenty-five men from Bedford, with Jonathan Wilson for their
captain; others were from Westford, among them Thaxter, a preacher;
others from Littleton, from Carlisle, and from Chelmsford. The Acton
company came last and formed on the right; the whole was a gathering
not so much of officers and soldiers as of brothers and equals, of
whom every one was a man well known in his village, observed in the
meeting houses on Sundays, familiar at town meetings and respected as a
freeholder or a freeholder's son.
Near the base of the hill Concord River flows languidly in a winding
channel and was approached by a causeway over the wet ground of its
left bank. The by-road from the hill on which the Americans had rallied
ran southerly till it met the causeway at right angles. The Americans
saw before them, within gunshot, British troops holding possession of
their bridge, and in the distance a still larger number occupying their
town, which, from the rising smoke, seemed to have been set on fire.
The Americans had as yet received only uncertain rumors of the
morning's events at Lexington. At the sight of fire in the village the
impulse seized them "to march into the town for its defense." But were
they not subjects of the British king? Had not the troops come out in
obedience to acknowledged authorities? Was resistance practicable?
Was it justifiable? By whom could it be authorized? No union had been
formed, no independence proclaimed, no war declared. The husbandmen
and mechanics who then stood on the hillock by Concord River were
called on to act and their action would be war or peace, submission
or independence. Had they doubted, they must have despaired. Prudent
statesmanship would have asked for time to ponder. Wise philosophy
would have lost from hesitation the glory of opening a new era for
mankind. The small bands at Concord acted and God was with them.
"I never heard from any person the least expression of a wish for
a separation," Franklin, not long before, had said to Chatham. In
October, 1774, Washington wrote: "No such thing as independence is
desired by any thinking man in America." "Before the nineteenth
of April, 1775," relates Jefferson, "I never heard a whisper of a
disposition to separate from Great Britain." Just thirty-seven days had
passed since John Adams published in Boston, "That there are any who
pant after independence is the greatest slander on the province."
The American Revolution grew out of the souls of the people and was
an inevitable result of a living affection for freedom, which set in
motion harmonious effort as certainly as the beating of the heart sends
warmth and color through the system.
The officers, meeting in front of their men, spoke a few words with
one another and went back to their places. Barrett, the colonel, on
horseback in the rear, then gave the order to advance, but not to
fire unless attacked. The calm features of Isaac Davis, of Acton,
became changed; the town schoolmaster of Concord, who was present,
could never afterwards find words strong enough to express how deeply
his face reddened at the word of command. "I have not a man that is
afraid to go," said Davis, looking at the men of Acton, and, drawing
his sword, he cried: "March!" His company, being on the right, led
the way toward the bridge, he himself at their head, and by his side
Major John Buttrick, of Concord, with John Robinson, of Westford,
lieutenant-colonel in Prescott's regiment, but on this day a volunteer
without command.
These three men walked together in front, followed by Minute Men and
militia in double file, training arms. They went down the hillock,
entered the by-road, came to its angle with the main road and there
turned into the causeway that led straight to the bridge. The British
began to take up the planks; to prevent it the Americans quickened
their step. At this the British fired one or two shots up the river;
then another, by which Luther Blanchard and Jonas Brown were wounded.
A volley followed, and Isaac Davis and Abner Hosmer fell dead. Three
hours before, Davis had bid his wife farewell. That afternoon he was
carried home and laid in her bedroom. His countenance was pleasant in
death. The bodies of two others of his company, who were slain that
day, were brought to her house, and the three were followed to the
village graveyard by a concourse of neighbors from miles around. Heaven
gave her length of days in the land which his self-devotion assisted
to redeem. She lived to see her country reach the Gulf of Mexico and
the Pacific; when it was grown great in numbers, wealth and power, the
United States in Congress bethought themselves to pay honors to her
husband's martyrdom and comfort her under the double burden of sorrow
and of more than ninety years.
As the British fired, Emerson, who was looking on from an upper window
in his house near the bridge, was for one moment uneasy lest the fire
should not be returned. It was only for a moment; Buttrick, leaping in
the air and at the same time partially turning around, cried aloud:
"Fire, fellow soldiers! for God's sake, fire!" and the cry "fire! fire!
fire!" ran from lip to lip. Two of the British fell, several were
wounded, and in two minutes all was hushed. The British retreated in
disorder toward their main body; the countrymen were left in possession
of the bridge. This is the world renowned "Battle of Concord," more
eventful than Agincourt or Blenheim.
The Americans stood astonished at what they had done. They made no
pursuit and did no further harm, except that one wounded soldier,
attempting to arise if to escape, was struck on the head by a young
man with a hatchet. The party at Barrett's might have been cut off,
but was not molested. As the Sudbury company, commanded by the brave
Nixon, passed near the South Bridge, Josiah Haynes, then eighty years
of age, deacon of the Sudbury Church, urged an attack on the British
party stationed there; his advice was rejected by his fellow soldiers
as premature, but the company in which he served proved among the most
alert during the rest of the day.
In the town of Concord, Smith, for half an hour, showed by marches and
counter-marches his uncertainty of purpose. At last, about noon, he
left the town, to retreat the way he came, along the hilly road that
wound through forests and thickets. The Minute Men and militia who
had taken part in the fight ran over the hills opposite the battle
field into the east quarter of the town, crossed the pasture known as
the "Great Fields," and placed themselves in ambush a little to the
eastward of the village, near the junction of the Bedford road. There
they were reinforced by men from all around and at that point the
chase of the English began.
Among the foremost were the Minute Men of Reading, led by John Brooks
and accompanied by Foster, the minister of Littleton, as a volunteer.
The company of Billerica, whose inhabitants, in their just indignation
at Nesbit and his soldiers, had openly resolved to "use a different
style from that of petition and complaint" came down from the north,
while the East Sudbury company appeared on the south. A little below
the Bedford road at Merriam's corner the British faced about, but after
a sharp encounter, in which several of them were killed, they resumed
their retreat.
At the high land in Lincoln the old road bent toward the north, just
where great trees on the west and thickets on the east offered cover
to the pursuers. The men from Woburn came up in great numbers and well
armed. Along these defiles fell eight of the British. Here Pitcairn for
safety was forced to quit his horse, which was taken with his pistols
in their holsters. A little farther on Jonathan Wilson, captain of
the Bedford Minute Men, too zealous to keep on his guard, was killed
by a flanking party. At another defile in Lincoln, the Minute Men at
Lexington, commanded by John Parker, renewed the fight. Every piece of
wood, every rock by the wayside, served as a lurking place. Scarce ten
of the Americans were at any time seen together, yet the hills seemed
to the British to swarm with "rebels," as if they had dropped from the
clouds, and "the road was lined" by an unintermitted fire from behind
stone walls and trees.
At first the invaders moved in order; as they drew near Lexington,
their flanking parties became ineffective from weariness; the wounded
were scarce able to get forward. In the west of Lexington, as the
British were rising Fiske's hill, a sharp contest ensued. It was at the
eastern foot of the same hill that James Hayward, of Acton, encountered
a regular, and both at the same moment fired; the regular dropped
dead; Hayward was mortally wounded. A little farther on fell the
octogenarian, Josiah Haynes, who had kept pace with the swiftest in the
pursuit.
The British troops, "greatly exhausted and fatigued and having expended
almost all of their ammunition," began to run rather than retreat in
order. The officers vainly attempted to stop their flight. "They were
driven before the Americans like sheep." At last, about two in the
afternoon, after they had hurried through the middle of the town, about
a mile below the field of the morning's bloodshed, the officers made
their way to the front and by menaces of death began to form them under
a very heavy fire.
At that moment Lord Percy came in sight with the first brigade,
consisting of Welsh Fusiliers, the Fourth, the Forty-seventh and the
Thirty-eighth Regiments, in all about twelve hundred men, with two
field pieces. Insolent, as usual, they marched out of Boston to the
tune of Yankee Doodle, but they grew alarmed at finding every house on
the road deserted.
While the cannon kept the Americans at bay, Percy formed his detachment
into a square, enclosing the fugitives, who lay down for rest on the
ground, "their tongues hanging out of their mouths like those of dogs
after a chase."
After the juncture of the fugitives with Percy, the troops under his
command amounted to fully two-thirds of the British Army in Boston,
and yet they must fly before the Americans speedily and fleetly, or
be overwhelmed. Two wagons, sent out to them with supplies, were
waylaid and captured by Payson, the minister of Chelsea. From far and
wide Minute Men were gathering. The men of Dedham, even the old men,
received their minister's blessing and went forth, in such numbers that
scarce one male between sixteen and seventy was left at home. That
morning William Prescott mustered his regiment, and though Pepperell
was so remote that he could not be in season for the pursuit, he
hastened down with five companies of guards. Before noon a messenger
rode at full speed into Worcester, crying: "To arms!" A fresh horse was
brought and the tidings went on, while the Minute Men of that town,
after joining hurriedly on the common in a fervent prayer from their
minister, kept on the march till they reached Cambridge.
Aware of his perilous position, Percy, resting but half an hour,
renewed his retreat.
Beyond Lexington the troops were attacked by men chiefly from Essex
and the lower towns. The fire from the rebels slackened till they
approached West Cambridge, where Joseph Warren and William Heath, both
of the committee of safety, the latter a provincial general officer,
gave for a moment some appearance of organization to the pursuit, and
the fight grew sharper and more determined. Here the company from
Danvers, which made a breastwork of a pile of shingles, lost eight men,
caught between the enemy's flank guard and main body. Here, too, a
musket ball grazed the hair of Joseph Warren, whose heart beat to arms,
so that he was ever in the place of greatest danger. The British became
more and more "exasperated" and indulged themselves in savage cruelty.
In one house they found two aged, helpless, unarmed men and butchered
them both without mercy, stabbing them, breaking their skulls and
dashing out their brains. Hannah Adams, wife of Deacon Joseph Adams, of
Cambridge, lay in child-bed with a babe of a week old, but was forced
to crawl with her infant in her arms and almost naked to a corn shed,
while the soldiers set her house on fire. Of the Americans there were
never more than four hundred together at any time; but, as some grew
tired or used up their ammunition, others took their places, and though
there was not much concert or discipline and no attack with masses, the
pursuit never flagged.
Below West Cambridge the militia from Dorchester, Roxbury and Brookline
came up. Of these, Isaac Gardner, of the latter place, one on whom the
colony rested many hopes, fell about a mile west of Harvard College.
The field pieces began to lose their terror, so that the Americans
pressed upon the rear of the fugitives, whose retreat was as rapid
as it possibly could be. A little after sunset the survivors escaped
across Charlestown Neck.
The troops of Percy had marched thirty miles in ten hours; the party
of Smith in six hours had retreated twenty miles; the guns of the
ship-of-war and the menace to burn the town of Charlestown saved them
from annoyance during the rest on Bunker Hill and while they were
ferried across Charles River.
On that day forty-nine Americans were killed, thirty-four wounded
and five missing. The loss of the British in killed, wounded and
missing was two hundred and seventy-three. Among the wounded were many
officers; Smith was hurt severely. Many more were disabled by fatigue.
"The night preceding the outrages at Lexington there were not fifty
people in the whole colony that ever expected any blood would be shed
in the contest"; the night after, the king's governor and the king's
army found themselves closely beleaguered in Boston.
"The next news from England must be conciliatory, or the connection
between us ends," said Warren. "This month," so wrote William Emerson,
of Concord, late chaplain to the Provincial Congress, chronicled in a
blank leaf of his almanac, "is remarkable for the greatest events of
the present age." "From the nineteenth of April, 1775," said Clark, of
Lexington, on its first anniversary, "will be dated the liberty of the
American world."
NOTE.--The principal part of this account of the Battle of Lexington is
taken from Banecroft's history.--_American Monthly Magazine._
SIGNERS OF DECLARATION.
(Poem that embraces the names of the famous Americans.)
It will not be denied that the men who, on July 4, 1776, pledged "their
lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor" in behalf of our national
liberty deserve the most profound reverence from every American
citizen. By arranging in rhyme the names of the signers according
to the colonies from which they were delegated it will assist the
youthful learner in remembering the names of those fathers of American
Independence.
I.
The Massachusetts delegation
That signed our glorious Declaration
Where Hancock, Gerry, Robert Paine,
The great John Adams, and again
Another Adams, Samuel by name.
II.
New Hampshire, called the "Granite State,"
Sent Whipple, Bartlett, Thornton great,
Alike in counsel and debate.
III.
Rhode Island's delegates, we see,
Were Stephen Hopkins and Ellery.
IV.
Connecticut, excelled by none,
With Wolcott, Williams and Huntington.
V.
New York as delegates employed
Lewis Morris and William Floyd,
With Francis Lewis and Livingston,
Who died before the war was done.
VI.
New Jersey to the congress sent
Her honored college president,
John Witherspoon, with Stockton, Clark,
Hart, Hopkinson--all men of mark.
VII.
Though Pennsylvania need not blush
For Morris, Morton, Wilson, Rush,
And though most men might seem as dross
To Cylmer, Taylor, Smith and Ross,
To Franklin each his tribute brings
Who neither lightning feared, nor kings.
VIII.
The men from Delaware--indeed
As true as steel in utmost need--
Were Rodney, with McKean and Read.
IX.
"My Maryland" is proud to own
Her Carroll, Paca, Chase and Stone.
X.
On old Virginia's roll we see
The gifted Richard Henry Lee,
And, just as earnest to be free.
His brother, Francis Lightfoot Lee,
And Wythe and Nelson, patriots true,
With Harrison and Braxton, too;
But of them all, there was not one
As great as Thomas Jefferson.
XI.
North Carolina's chosen men
We know were Hooper, Hewes and Penn.
XII.
And South Carolina's vote was one--
By Heyward, Lynch and Middleton.
XIII.
From Georgia came Gwinnett and Hall
And Walton, too, the last of all
Who signed our precious Declaration
The pride and glory of the nation.
LIFE AT VALLEY FORGE.
MRS. HARRIET D. EISENBERG.
I have chosen to look up particulars concerning the daily life of
the soldier at Valley Forge in the awful winter of 1777-8. And as no
historian can picture the life of any period so vividly as it may be
described by those who were participants in that life, or eye witnesses
of it, I have gathered the materials for this paper from diaries of
those who were there, from accounts by men whose friends were in the
camp, from letters sent to and from the camp, and from the orderly book
of a general who kept a strict report of the daily orders issued by the
Commander-in-chief, from the fall campaign of 1777, to the late spring
of 1778.
It is unnecessary to reiterate what all of us know,--that the winter of
'77-8 was the blackest time of the war of Independence, and it was made
so, not only by the machinations of the enemies of Washington who were
striving to displace him as Commander-in-Chief, but by the unparalleled
severity of the winter and the dearth of the commonest necessaries of
life. The sombreness of the picture is emphasized by contrast with
the brightness and gaiety that characterized the life in Philadelphia
during that same winter when the British troops occupied the city.
There a succession of brilliant festivities was going on, the gaieties
culminating in the meschianza that most gorgeous spectacle ever given
by an army to its retiring officer, when Peggy Shippen and Sallie Chew
danced the night away with the scarlet-coated officers of the British
army, while fathers and brothers were suffering on the hills above the
Schuylkill.
Why did Washington elect to put his army in winter-quarters? He himself
answers the question, which was asked by congress who objected to the
army's going into winter quarters at all. The campaign, which had seen
the battles of the Brandywine and of Germantown, was over; the British
were in possession of Philadelphia; the army was fatigued and there
was little chance of recuperation from sources already heavily drained.
Hence a winter's rest was necessary. And Washington's own words, as he
issued the orders for the day on December 23d, tell us why Valley Forge
was chosen.
"The General wishes it was in his power to conduct the troops
into the best winter quarters; but where are those to be found?
Should we retire into the interior portions of the country, we
should find them crowded with virtuous citizens who, sacrificing
their all, have left Philadelphia, and fled hither for protection.
To their distress, humanity forbids us to add. This is not all.
We should leave a vast extent of fertile country to be despoiled
and ravaged by the enemy. These and other considerations make
it necessary to take such a position (as this), and influenced
by these considerations he persuades himself that officers and
soldiers, with one heart and one mind, will resolve to surmount
every difficulty with the fortitude and patience becoming their
profession and the Sacred Cause in which they are engaged. He
himself, will share in the hardships, and partake of every
inconvenience."
And with this resolve on his part, kept faithfully through the long
weeks, the bitter winter was begun.
It was on December 12th that a bridge of wagons was made across the
Schuylkill and the army, already sick and broken down, moved over. On
that day, Dr. Waldo, a surgeon from Connecticut made this entry in his
diary:
"Sunset. We are ordered to march over the river. I'm sick--eat
nothing--no whiskey--no baggage. Lord-Lord-Lord."
A few days later he makes this entry:
"The army, who have been surprisingly healthy hitherto, now begin
to grow sickly. They still show alacrity and contentment not to be
expected from so young troops.
"I am sick, discontented, out of humor. Poor food, hard
lodging--cold weather--fatigue--nasty clothes--nasty
cooking--smoked out of my senses, vomit half my time--the Devil's
in it. I can't endure it.
"Here comes a bowl of soup--full of burnt leaves and dirt.--Away
with it, boys. I'll live like the chameleon upon air. 'Pooh-pooh,'
says Patience. You talk like a fool.--See the poor soldier--with
what cheerfulness he meets his foes and encounters hardships. If
bare of foot he labors through mud and cold, with a song extolling
war and Washington. If his food is bad he eats it with contentment
and whistles it into digestion.--There comes a soldier--his bare
feet are seen through his worn out shoes. His legs are nearly naked
from his tattered remains of an old pair of stockings--his shirt
hanging in strings,--his hair dishevelled--his face meagre--his
whole appearance pictures a person forsaken and discouraged. He
comes and cries with despair--I am sick. My feet are lame--my legs
are sore--my body covered with tormenting itch--my clothes worn
out--my constitution broken. I fail fast. I shall soon be no more.
And all the reward I shall get will be--'Poor Will is dead.'"
On the 21st of December this entry appears:
"A general cry through the camp this evening: 'no meat--no meat.'
The distant vales echo back--'no meat.' 'What have you for dinner,
Boys?' 'Nothing but fire-cake and water, sir! At night. 'Gentlemen,
supper is ready.' 'What is your supper, lads?' 'Fire-cake and water
Sir.'"
Again on December 22d:
"Lay excessive cold and uncomfortable last night. My eyes started
out of their orbits like a rabbit's eyes, occasioned by a great
cold and smoke. Huts go slowly. Cold and smoke make us fret.--I
don't know anything that vexes a man's soul more than hot smoke
continually blowing into one's eyes, and when he attempts to avoid
it, he is met by a cold and freezing wind."
On December 25th, Xmas, this entry:
"Still in tents. The sick suffer much in tents. We give them mutton
and grog and capital medicine it is once in a while."
January 1st:
"I am alive. I am well. Huts go on briskly."
I have quoted thus lengthily from this diary, which gives, perhaps,
the most vivid picture we possess of that dark period, simply because
it touches upon almost all that concerns the life of the soldiers that
winter,--upon their dwellings, their food, their health, their courage.
The Doctor repeatedly speaks of the huts which were to shelter the men.
In the order issued by Washington to his generals early in December,
directions were given concerning the construction of these dwellings.
According to these directions, the major-generals, accompanied by the
engineers, were to fix on the proper spot for hutting. The sunside of
the hills was chosen, and here they constructed long rows of log huts,
and made numerous stockades and bristling pikes for defence along the
line of the trench. For these purposes and for their fuel they cut off
an entire forest of timber. Can't you hear the steady crash of the ax
held by hands benumbed with the cold, as blow, by blow, they felled
the trees on the hillside, eager to erect the crude huts which were to
give better shelter than the tents in which they were yet shivering and
choking? In cutting their fire wood, the soldiers were directed to save
such parts of each tree as would do for building, reserving 16 or 18
feet of trunk for logs to rear their huts. "The quartermaster-general,
(so says the order of December 20th) is to delay no time, but procure
large quantities of straw, either for covering the huts or for beds."
This last item would suggest the meagreness of the furnishing.
Throughout the entire winter the soldier could look for few of the
barest necessities of life. An order from headquarters directed that
each hut should be provided with a pail. Dishes were a rarity. Each
soldier carried his knife in his pocket, while one horn spoon, a pewter
dish, and a horn tumbler into which whiskey rarely entered, did duty
for a whole mess. The eagerness to possess a single dish is illustrated
by an anecdote which has come down in my own family, if I may presume
to narrate it. My Revolutionary ancestor was a manufacturer of pottery.
In the leisure hours of this bitter time at Valley Forge, he built a
kiln and burnt some pottery. Just as it was time to open the ovens, a
band of soldiers rushed upon them, tearing them down, and triumphantly
marched off with their prize, leaving Captain Piercy as destitute of
dishes as before.
As for the food that was meant to sustain the defenders of our liberty,
the diary I have quoted, together with Washington's daily orders, gives
us sufficient information to enable us to judge of its meagreness.
Often their food was salted herring so decayed that it had to be dug
'en masse' from the barrels. Du Poncean, a young officer, aid to Baron
Steuben, related to a friend, a few years after the war, some facts of
stirring interest. "They bore," he says, "with fortitude and patience.
Sometimes, you might see the soldiers pop their heads out from their
huts and call in an undertone--'no bread, no soldier;' but a single
word from their officer would still their complaint." Baron Steuben's
cook left him at Valley Forge, saying that when there was nothing to
cook, any one might turn the spit.
The commander-in-chief, partaking of the hardships of his brave men,
was accustomed to sit down with his invited officers to a scanty piece
of meat, with some hard bread and a few potatoes. At his house, called
Moore Hall, they drank the prosperity of the nation in humble toddy,
and the luxurious dessert consisted of a dish of hazel nuts.
Even in those scenes, Mrs. Washington, as was her practice in the
winter campaign, had joined her husband, and always at the head of the
table maintained a mild and dignified, yet cheerful manner. She busied
herself all day long, with errands of grace, and when she passed along
the lines, she would hear the fervent cry,--"God bless Lady Washington."
I need not go into details concerning the lack of clothing--the diary
I have quoted is sufficiently suggestive. An officer said, some years
after the war, that many were without shoes, and while acting as
sentinels, had doffed their hats to stand in, to save their feet from
freezing. Deserters to the British army--for even among the loyal
American troops there were some to be found who could not stand up
against cold and hunger and disease and the inducement held out by
the enemy to deserters--would enter Philadelphia shoeless and almost
naked--around their body an old, dirty blanket, fastened by a leather
belt around the waist.
One does not wonder that disease was rampant, that orders had to be
issued from headquarters for the proper treatment of the itch; for
inoculation against smallpox, for the care of those suffering from
dysentery which was widespread in the camp. On January 8, an order was
issued from the commander-in-chief to the effect that men rendered
unfit for duty by the itch be looked after by the surgeon and properly
disposed in huts where they could be annointed for the disease.
Hospital provisions were made for the sick. Huts, 15 by 25 and 9 feet
high, with windows in each end, were built, two for each brigade. They
were placed at or near the center, and not more than 100 yards from the
bridge. But such were the ravages of the disease that long trenches in
the vale below the hill were dug, and filled in with the dead.
To turn to the activities of the camp,--its duties, privileges, and
amusements, and even its crimes. Until somewhat late in the spring,
when Baron Steuben arrived at Valley Forge, there was little system
observed in the drilling of the several brigades. Yet each day's
military duty was religiously attended to, that there might, at least,
be some preparation for defence in case of an attack from the superior
force at Philadelphia. The duties of both rank and file were strictly
laid down by Washington, and any dereliction was punished with military
strictness.
In the commands issued on February 8, the order of the day is plainly
indicated. I give the words from Orderly book:
"Reveille sounded at daybreak--troop at 8--retreat at
sunset--tattoo at 9. Drummers call to beat at the right of first
line and answer through that line. Then through the second and corp
of artillery, beginning at the left. Reserve shall follow the
second line immediately upon this. Three rolls, to begin, and run
through in like manner as the call. Then all the drums of the army
at the heads of their respective corps shall go through the regular
beats, ceasing upon the right which will be a sign for the whole to
cease."
Don't you imagine that you hear the rise and fall of the notes as they
echoed and re-echoed over the frozen hills and thrilled the hearts that
beat beneath the rags in the cold winter morning?
The daily drill on parade, the picket duty, the domestic duties
incumbent upon the men in the absence of the women, the leisure hours,
then taps, and the day's tale was told.
I should like to tell you of the markets established, for two days
each, at three separate points on the outskirts of the camp, where
for prices fixed by a schedule to prevent extortion, the soldiers,
fortunate enough to possess some money might add to their meagre
supplies some comforts in food or clothing. I should like to tell of
the sutlers that followed each brigade, and the strict rules that
governed their dealings with the army,--of the funerals, the simple
ceremonies of which were fixed by orders from headquarters; of the
gaming among the soldiers, which vice Washington so thoroughly abhorred
that he forbade, under strictest penalties, indulgence in even harmless
games of cards and dice. I should like to tell of the thanksgiving days
appointed by congress for some signal victory of the northern army, or
for the blessing of the French alliance, on which days the camp was
exempt from ordinary duty and after divine service the day was given
over to the men. Or I should like to tell of Friday the "Flag day"
when a flag of truce was carried into Philadelphia and letters were
sent to loved ones, and answers brought back containing disheartening
news of the gaieties then going on, or encouraging accounts of the
sacrifices of mothers and daughters in the cause of liberty. And
finally I should like to tell you of the court martials, through the
reports of which we get such a vivid picture of the intimate life
of the time: of the trial by court martial of Anthony Wayne, who was
acquitted of the charge of conduct unbecoming an officer; of the trial
of a common soldier for stealing a blanket from a fellow soldier, and
the punishment by 100 lashes on his bare back; of the trial of a Mary
Johnson who plotted to desert the camp and who, between the lined up
ranks of the brigade, was drummed out of camp; of the trial of John
Riley for desertion, and his execution on parade ground, with the full
brigade in attendance; of the dramatic punishment of an officer found
guilty of robbery and absenting himself, with a private, without leave,
and who was sentenced to have his sword broken over his head on grand
parade at guard mount. I should like to tell, too, of the foraging
parties sent out to scour the country for food and straw; and the
frequent skirmishes with detachments of the enemy; of the depredations
made by the soldiers on the surrounding farmers, which depredations
were so deplored by Washington and which tried so his great soul I
wanted to speak of the greatness of the Commander-in-Chief in the face
of all he had to contend with--the continued depredations of his men;
the repeated abuse of privilege; the frequent disobedience of orders;
the unavoidably filthy condition of the camp; the suffering of the
soldiers; the peril from a powerful enemy,--all sufficient to make
a soul of less generous mould succumb to fate, yet serving only in
Washington's case to make him put firmer trust in an Almighty Power and
in the justice of his cause.
At the opening of the spring a greater activity prevailed in the camp.
With the coming of Baron Steuben, the army was uniformly drilled in the
tactics of European warfare. With the new appropriation of congress,
new uniforms were possible and gave a more military appearance to the
army. It was no longer necessary, therefore, for Washington to issue
orders that the men must appear on parade with beards shaven and faces
clean, though their garments were of great variety and ragged. And
with the coming of the spring, and of greater comforts in consequence,
Washington, in recognition of the suffering, fidelity and patriotism of
his troops took occasion to commend them in these words:
"The Commander-in-Chief takes this occasion to return his thanks
to the officers and soldiers of this army for that persevering
fidelity and zeal which they have uniformly manifested in all
their conduct. Their fortitude not only under the common hardships
incident to a military life, but also, under the additional
suffering to which the peculiar situation of these states has
exposed them, clearly proves them to be men worthy the enviable
privilege of contending for the rights of human nature--the
freedom and independence of the country. The recent instance of
uncomplaining patience during the late scarcity of provisions in
camp is a fresh proof that they possess in eminent degree the
spirits of soldiers and the magnanimity of patriots. The few who
disgraced themselves by murmuring, it is hoped, have repented such
unmanly behaviour and have resolved to emulate the noble example
of their associates--Soldiers, American Soldiers, will despise
the meanness of repining at such trifling strokes of adversity,
trifling indeed when compared with the transcendent prize which
will undoubtedly crown their patience and perseverance.
"Glory and freedom, peace and plenty, the admiration of
the world, the love of their country and the gratitude of
posterity."--_American Monthly Magazine._
OLD WILLIAMSBURG.
BY EMILY HENDREE PARK.
The screeching of the steam whistle at the Williamsburg station seemed
a curious anachronism, a noisy, pushing impertinence, a strident voice
of latter-day vulgar haste. But when the big engine had rolled away,
puffing and blowing and screaming as if in mischievous and irreverent
effort to disturb the archaic dreams of the fast-asleep town, the
"exceeding peace" which always dwells in Williamsburg, fell upon our
hilarious spirits. We wandered about the streets with hushed voices and
reverent eyes. The throbbing pulse of the gay, stirring, rebellious
heart of the old capital of Virginia had been still for a century.
On entering Bruton church, the eye is first attracted on the right of
the chancel to the novel sight of the governor's seat, high canopied
and richly upholstered in crimson and gilt. The high-backed chair is
railed off from the "common folk," and the name Alexander Spotswood
in gold lettering runs around the top of the canopy. At once you
realize that this was indeed the court church of the vice-regal court
at Williamsburg, and that you are in old Colonial Virginia. The lines
"He rode with Spotswood and Spotswood men," the knights of the "Golden
Horse Shoe," run through the brain, and the knightly figure of Raleigh,
the chivalric founder of the colony, and brave John Smith and a score
of others, heroes of that elder day, come from out the shadowy past,
and hover about one. You look at the quaint old pulpit, on the left
of the church, with its high-sounding board, and then glance down at
the pew on your right, which bears the name of George Washington, and
opposite the plate on the pew reads Thomas Jefferson, and next are
James Madison and the seven signers of the Declaration of Independance,
and Peyton Randolph and Patrick Henry and the doughty members of the
house of burgesses who worshiped here, and whose liberty-loving
spirits fired the world with their brave protests against tyranny. When
you read these names, suddenly the church seems full of the men who
bore them, and you are surrounded by that goodly company of heroes who
made Virginia and America, the cradle of liberty. The magic spell is
upon you. You turn cold and burning hot with high enthusiasm and the
glory of the vision. You are roused from your trance by the pleasant
voice of the young minister, Mr. John Wing, who is saying: "Now we will
go down into the crypt."
There are treasures in the crypt indeed. We follow in a dazed fashion,
and are shown the Jamestown communion service; the communion silver
bearing the coat-of-arms of King George III; the ancient communion
silver of the College of William and Mary; the Colonial prayer book,
with the prayer for the president pasted over the prayer for King
George III; a parish register of 1662, the pre-Revolutionary Bible;
coins found while excavating in the church, and brass head-tack letters
and figures by which some of the graves in the aisles and chancel
were identified. We are told that the date of parish was 1632, first
brick church, 1674-83; present church 1710-15. Precious and deeply
interesting, but I imagined that I could hear the tread of that
"knightly company" upstairs, who let neither silver nor gold nor the
glitter of the vice-regal court at Williamsburg seduce them from their
love of liberty, nor dull their hatred of tyranny in its slightest
exercise. Ah! there were giants in those days among those Virginia
pioneers, in whose veins ran the hot blood of the cavalier, who loved
truth and hated a lie, who loved life and despised danger, and feared
not death nor "king nor kaiser," descendants of the valiant Jamestown
colonists to whom Nathaniel Bacon cried one hundred years before: "Come
on, my hearts of gold!"
The tombstones in the aisle and chancel of the church include the tombs
of two Colonial governors--Francis Fauquier and Edmund Jennings--and
the graves of the great-grandfather, the grandfather and grandmother
of Mrs. Martha Washington. After reading the quaint inscription on
the marble mural tablet in memory of Colonel Daniel Parke and the
inscriptions on the bronze mural tablets memorial to Virginia churchmen
and patriots, we climb to "Lord Dunmore's gallery," where, tradition
says, the boys of William and Mary College used to be locked in for
their soul's edification until service was over, and where we sat in
Thomas Jefferson's accustomed place, from whence he looked down upon
the heads of the members of the house of burgesses and the Colonial
vestrymen of distinguished memory. Is it any wonder that in such
environment the boy's dreamy aspirations crystallized into the high
resolve of becoming a patriot and statesman? For in those stormy days
preceding the Revolution this little Bruton parish church was a very
Pantheon of living heroes.
Fiske, the New England historian, says that "the five men who more than
any others have shaped the future of American history were Washington,
Jefferson, Madison, Marshall and Hamilton." All but Hamilton were
Virginians and worshipers at Bruton church, and two of them were
students of the College of William and Mary. Distinction unrivaled for
the state, the church, the college.
And now we walk into the church yard, under venerable trees, among
crumbling grave stones and see the Pocahontas baptismal font and the
tombs of the Custis children and Colonial Governor Knott.
We are shown the home of George Wythe, the signer of the Declaration,
the teacher of Jefferson, Monroe and Marshall. Great teacher of greater
pupils! Inspirer of high thoughts and immortal deeds! One of the
students at William and Mary, Jefferson, wrote the declaration, three
were presidents, and another, John Marshall, was Chief Justice of the
United States. The headquarters of Washington, the site of the first
theater in America, 1732, the Ancient Palace green on the right hand of
which is the fictional home of Audrey, and several ancient colonial
homes are pointed out to us. If any vestige remains of the old Raleigh
tavern, whose "Apollo" room was famous as the gathering place of the
burgesses, who, after their dismissal in 1769 asked an agreement not to
use or import any article upon which a tax is laid--it was not shown to
us.
The old powder horn or powder magazine, a curious hexagonal building,
has been admirably restored and stands as a reminder of that dramatic
scene in Virginia history in 1775 when, after Lord Dunmore had removed
the powder from the magazine into one of the vessels in the James,
fearing an uprising of the colonists, Patrick Henry, with an armed
force from Hanover, stalked into the governor's presence and demanded
the return of the powder or its equivalent in money. Lord Dunmore,
looking into those dauntless eyes, beholds the dauntless soul of the
"Firebrand of the Revolution" behind them, and yields at once and pays
down £330 sterling. Patrick Henry, with splendid audacity, seizes a
pen and signs the receipt, "Patrick Henry, Jr." making himself alone
responsible for this act of high treason, and then, that there may be
no doubt as to his signature, he has it attested by two distinguished
gentlemen. What heroic daring! What impassioned love of liberty! While
Peyton, Randolph and Richard Henry Lee counsel caution, Patrick Henry
acts and becomes the inspired genius of the revolution, fusing the
disunited and hesitating colonies into a nation by the white heat of
his burning passion for freedom.
First in importance of all the historic places in Williamsburg is
the venerable college of William and Mary. Founded in 1693, next to
Harvard the oldest college in the United States, it soon became the
"intellectual center of the colony of Chesapeake Bay," the alma mater
of the patriots who fought for the life of the young republic and of
the statesmen who formed its constitution and guided its course in its
infant years. It has furnished to our country fifteen senators and
seventy representatives in congress; thirty-seven judges, and Chief
Justice Marshall; seventeen governors of states and three presidents
of the United States--Jefferson, Monroe and Tyler. James Blair, a
Scotchman, was its first president and remained so for fifty years.
The ivy-clad buildings of the old college nestle among ancient trees
on a wide campus, and so venerable is the look of the place that the
new hall seems a modern intruder, though of quiet and well-mannered
architecture. The quiet air of scholarly seclusion reminds one of
Oxford. It was commencement day, and we found the buildings decorated
with white and yellow, the college colors. The chapel, with its
oil paintings of presidents, donors and patriots, and the library
with its rare volumes and priceless old documents and portraits and
engravings, are full of interest. A marble statue of one of the old
governors--Botetourt, I believe--stands in the silence of the centuries
in front of the old college.
"Yas'm ris de place, de house er buggesses, dey call it, 'cause de big
bugs of ole Virginny sot dere er making laws. 'Fo de Lawd, marm, dey
wuz big bugs; quality folks, quality folks." And John Randolph, our
colored coachman, waved his hand with a proud air of ownership, as if
he were displaying lofty halls with mahogany stairs and marble pillars,
instead of the mortar and brick foundation, in its bare outline, of the
old capitol, or House of Burgesses.
"Walk right in, suh. Bring de ladies dis way, boss," John Randolph
urged, in a tone of lordly hospitality. "Right hyah is the charmber
(room) whar Marse Patrick Henry made dat great speech agin de king--old
Marse King George--or bossin' uv de colonies. He wuz er standing on dis
very spot, and he lif' up his voice like a lion and he sez, sez he--"
"What did he say?" as the old man paused.
Striking a dramatic attitude, the gray-haired old Virginia darky rolled
out in sonorous voice, with impassioned gesture:
"Tarquin and Caesar had each his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell
and George the Third--" "Treason! treason!" said the speaker of the
house. "May profit by their example. If that be treason, make the most
of it."
In spite of John Randolph's oratory, Rothermel's painting came before
me, and I could see the Virginia cavaliers gazing at the speaker
with startled, breathless look, while the colonial dames with their
powdered hair and stiff brocade leaned eagerly forward in the gallery
to catch each note of the immortal voice; and in the doorway stood
Thomas Jefferson, the slim young student of William and Mary College,
electrified by the fiery eloquence, "such as I had never heard from any
other man," he said: "he appeared to me to speak as Homer wrote."
"But why didn't you say 'Give me liberty or give me death,' Uncle
John?" asked the young interrogation point of the party.
"'Cause Marse Patrick never said dem words here, chile. He spoke 'em
in old St. John's Church up in Richmond ten year arterwards. I gin
you his Williamsburg speech, his fust great speech." And the darky
orator and historian smiled with that superior wisdom which we had
seen illumminate the dark Italian features of Antonio Griffenreid, the
famous sexton of old St. John's as he enlightened the ignorance of a
party of sightseers.--_Atlanta Constitution._
SONG OF THE REVOLUTION.
We love the men and women, too,
Who fought and worked and brought us through
Our glorious revolution;
Hard was the struggle, brave the fight,
That won for them the sovereign right
To frame a Constitution.
CHORUS.
This Constitution made us free
In this proud land of liberty--
The best in all creation--
And we'll stand by it while we live;
Whatever we may have we'll give
For its perpetuation.
Our Country is the fairest one
Kissed by the ever rolling sun--
We glory in our nation;
And we will see that it shall be
The happy land of liberty,
Through time's continuation.
_--Francis H. Orme._
This song has been adopted as a State song by the Daughters of
the American Revolution of Georgia, and as a national song by the
Continental Congress 1906.
A TRUE STORY OF THE REVOLUTION.
BY MRS. M. S. D'VAUGHN.
_Archibald Bullock Chapter, D. A. R., Montezuma, Ga._
This is a story of how a woman's wit and tact saved her husband's life
from the hands of the Tories, in the dark days of the Revolution.
It was in South Carolina, the British General, Cornwallis, had
ordered any American sympathizer caught, to be hung or shot at sight.
Numberless outrages had been done and the feeling was intensely bitter
against the Tories, or Royalists, as they called themselves. Especially
so was it in the section of the country where lived Elizabeth Robert.
Her husband was fighting with Marion, the "Swamp Fox," in another part
of the state and the only protector for herself and two young children
was a faithful slave called "Daddy Cyrus." Here on her plantation
Elizabeth spent her days living quietly enough. However, she was no
idler, but rather a most thrifty housewife and her muscadine wine
excelled any other and was known far and wide for its delicious flavor.
Now, John Robert grew restless, as the days passed and no word came
from his wife, so obtaining leave of absence from General Marion, he
quietly slipped through the lines, and by a devious route, appeared one
dark night at the door of his home. But some foreign eye had noted the
unusual happiness and excitement in the "big house" as it was called,
and in a short while it was surrounded, and Capt. John was a prisoner
in the hands of the Tories. Mary, with tears, pleaded for her husband's
life, but to no purpose, and dawn was to see his dead body hanging from
the limb of a huge oak near by. Tears availing nothing, Elizabeth's
quick brain began to teem with plans for John's escape.
Slipping down to "Daddy Cyrus'" cabin, she told him of her plan of
rescue, then back to her house she ran, her absence not having been
noted. Then bringing all her womanly beauty, graciousness and charm
to bear upon the Tories, she inticed them into the dining room,
leaving her husband tightly bound to the tree where he was to meet his
death,--and then from her mahogany sideboard, she served to them her
famous muscadine wine. Drink after drink, she offered them, while her
smiles and gay repartee allured them. More--more--and yet more, until
their befuddled wits were completely gone.
Then faithful old "Daddy Cyrus" waiting, watching, guarding, with
his sharp knife, cut the bonds of his "Young Marster," and into the
darkness Capt. John was gone back to his comrades with a hurried kiss
from the lips of his wife who had saved him.
The Tories were persuaded that the wine was the cause of their hazy
belief of the capture of Capt. John Robert, and no harm was done to
Elizabeth.
GEORGIA.
Poem composed by Mrs. C. M. O'Hara and read before David Meriwether
Chapter, Greenville, Ga., Georgia day, 1911.
Georgia, the baby of the original thirteen,
Not, however, youngest in importance, I ween,
Was born to the colonies in seventeen thirty-two,
To help those in prison their lives to renew.
What Oglethorpe planned for this child of his heart
Was that rum and slaves of it should not be a part,
But this wayward child would have her own way,
In spite of her mistakes she has made up to date,
Georgia is called of the South the Empire State.
She was the fifth of her sisters in secession to say,
"The Union she'd leave" when there was not fair play.
This child of famous men has sent her portion
From the "marshes of Glynn" to the Pacific Ocean.
Near Savannah, where Oglethorpe first planted his foot,
Ebenezer, the first orphanage, has taken firm root.
Another distinction, too, fair Georgia can claim
Is the first college for women, Wesleyan by name.
Towering intellects she reared in her Toombs and her Hills;
She can boast of her factories and her mills;
She has kept pace with her sisters in every movement
That tends to her children's uplift and improvement.
Now in heathen lands, across the deep waters,
Performing deeds of mercy are Georgia's sons and daughters.
FORTS OF GEORGIA.
MISS FRANCIS CLARKE.
_Prize Essay of Girls' High School, Atlanta, Georgia, for the loving
cup offered by Joseph Habersham Chapter, Daughters of the American
Revolution._
The forts of Georgia, though for the most part hurriedly and roughly
built for protection against Indian, Spaniards, Englishman, or Federal,
have nevertheless been the scenes of the bravest defenses, of the most
courageous deeds. In them probably more than anywhere else, the men of
Georgia have shown their hardy spirits and distressing trials. Never
has a Georgia fort been surrendered except from absolute necessity,
though its protectors were weak from starvation.
The first of the long list of five hundred forts that have been erected
in Georgia is Fort Charles, on the northeastern coast of Georgia. It
was built about 1562 by the direction of John Ribault, who with a party
of Huguenots had come from France with the approval of Admiral Coligny,
the Protestant leader at that time. Two years later the fort was
abandoned, and there is now no sign to point out the spot where it once
stood.
FORT ARGYLE.
Fort Argyle was the next fort on Georgia soil. It was built by
Oglethorpe in 1733 for the protection of his Savannah colony. Then
followed a wonderful series of forts, when you consider the few people
in Georgia at that time and the dangers of traveling on account of the
Indians. But Oglethorpe, braving all perils in the next four or five
years had established Forts Thunderbolt, near Savannah; St. Simon, on
St. Simon's Island; Frederick, at Frederica, on the same island; Fort
William and Fort Andrews, on Cumberland Island, besides several other
unimportant ones such as the fort on Jekyl Island and those along the
Altamaha. These forts, especially Fort William and Fort Andrews,
served as a great protection from the Indians and the Spaniards; but as
time went on, the Spaniards ceased invading the country, the Indians
were forced westward, and the forts fell into disuse. Indeed by the
opening of the Revolution, scarcely a vestige remained of these once
important forts.
For some years preceding the Revolution the white settlers on the
frontier had much trouble with the Indians, and they began to build
forts inland to the westward. In 1774, at Sherrill's Fort, about
three hundred men, women and children were massacred. These dreadful
massacres continued all during the Revolution at the instigation of
the British, and added to the many other troubles of the Georgians the
expense of keeping up these frontier forts.
At the opening of the Revolution, though the forts were in sad repair,
nevertheless there was a great rush of the Royalists and of the
Rebels to get possession of them. The Royalists were at first the
more successful. Augusta with Forts Grierson and Cornwallis, Savannah
with Forts Argyle and Halifax, Fort Barrington on the Altamaha, and
the recently erected Fort Morris south of Sunbury, were all soon in
the hands of the British. These positions were all strong and well
fortified. The Rebels were not nearly so fortunate. The forts they held
were mostly ruins. Fort McIntosh on the Satilla River was the first of
their possessions to be beseiged by the British. Captain Richard Winn
held the fort with all his powers of endurance against Colonel Fuser,
but, with his reinforcements cut off, he was soon obliged to surrender.
PROCEED AGAINST AUGUSTA.
Soon, however, the opportunity of the patriots came. 1781 was the
beginning of the change in affairs. Having seized Fort Carr and Fort
Howe as the center of operations, the Americans proceeded against
Augusta. Colonel Grierson, who was in charge of the fort that bore
his name, soon surrendered here, but Colonel Brown was obstinate
and strong in his position at Fort Cornwallis. In the end, after an
eighteen days' siege, he, too, acknowledged himself beaten.
After varying vicissitudes, the British were finally forced to give up
all their strongholds, and thus the Revolutionary forts played their
part in history.
During the years that followed there would have been no necessity for
any forts in Georgia had it not been for the Indians, especially during
the war of 1812, in which the Indians were incited by the British to
give trouble. Until 1836 the forts in most general use against the
Indians were Forts Hawkins, Mims, Scott and Mitchell.
With the passing of the Indian troubles the Georgia forts were left
to absolute ruin, and, when in 1861 the Civil War burst upon the
country, there was great need to fortify the land against the enemy.
Accordingly, Fort Pulaski, on Cockspur Island, not far from Savannah,
was strongly fortified at the cost of $80,000, and Colonel Olmstead
with 350 men was placed in command. Receiving word from the enemy to
surrender the fort, he answered, "I am here to defend the fort, not to
surrender it"; but in 1862 the brave commander was obliged to surrender
his treasure.
DUPONT EXPEDITION.
Fort McAllister, though not so strong as Fort Pulaski, being only
an earthwork with sand parapets, was notwithstanding an equally
important position. Admiral DuPont in 1863 was sent to seize it, but
the expedition failed; in 1864, General Hazen's division of General
Sherman's army took this fort from Major George W. Anderson. In his
letter north, General Sherman praised Georgia's sons for their brave
resistance. The surrender of Fort McAllister led in a few days to the
surrender of Savannah and the quick ending of the war.
After the Civil War, forts were again neglected and even the new
forts began to decay. Throughout Georgia today are to be seen her
picturesque, ivy-grown forts, and these are a source of never-failing
interest to visitors.
[Illustration: RUINS OF THE OLD FORT AT FREDERICA ON ST. SIMON'S
ISLAND, GA.]
The only regular military post now in Georgia is the beautiful Fort
McPherson. This fort covering about two hundred and thirty-six acres,
is four miles from Atlanta. It was established by the United States
government in 1867 with the name of McPherson's Barracks; it has a
postoffice and telegraph station. It has never yet been called into
service. Let us hope that it will be many days before Fort McPherson
adds its historic story to those of Georgia's other forts.
JAMES EDWARD OGLETHORPE.
James Oglethorpe came of a very old family in England. His father, Sir
Theophilus, was a soldier under James II, and went into banishment
with him. Just before the abdication of James II, James Oglethorpe,
the seventh child and fourth son, was born. At sixteen he entered the
University at Oxford, when he was twenty-two, entered the British Army
as Ensign, and was soon made Lieutenant of the Queen's Life Guards.
His soldier life was spent largely on the continent. He became heir
to the estate in Surrey and was shortly after elected to the British
Parliament, of which body he remained a member for thirty-two years. He
was an active member of the House of Commons, a Deputy Governor of the
Royal African Society and a gentleman of high position and independent
means, and withal a man of genuine piety. He conceived the plan of
establishing a colony in America, which should be a refuge for poor
people.
The following description of Oglethorpe is by Rev. Thomas B. Gregory:
"February 12, 1733, Oglethorpe and his Colonists scaled the
Yamacraw bluffs on the Savannah River and began laying the
foundations of the State of Georgia.
The Empire State of the South had its origin in the noblest
impulses that swell the human heart. Its founder, the accomplished
and philanthropic Oglethorpe, witnessing about him in the old
world the inhumanity of man to man, seeing the prisons full of
impecunious debtors, and the highways thronged with the victims of
religious fanaticism and spite, resolved that he would find in the
new world an asylum for the unfortunate ones where they should be
no more oppressed by the rich or dragooned by the bigoted.
The colony started out beautifully. The men who had been pining in
English jails because they could not pay the exactions of their
hard-hearted creditors, and the Salzburgers and others, who, in
Austria and Germany, had been made to feel the terrors of religious
fanaticism, were glad to be free, and they were only too willing
to accept the founder's will that there would be no slavery in
Georgia. The institution got a foothold much later on, but it was
not the fault of the original colonists.
Beautiful, too, were the initial relationships between the
colonists and the red men. Old To-mo-chi-chi, the Chief of the
surrounding Indians, presenting Oglethorpe with a Buffalo skin
ornamented with the picture of an eagle, said to him: 'I give you
this which I want you to accept. The eagle means speed and the
buffalo strength. The English are swift as the bird and strong
as the beast, since like the one, they flew over the seas to the
uttermost parts of the earth, and, like the other, they are strong
and nothing can resist them. The feathers of the eagle are soft and
means love; the buffalo skin is warm and means protection. Then
I hope the English will love and protect our little families.'
Alas! the time was to come when the white man would forget
To-mo-chi-chi's present and the spirit with which it was made.
[Illustration: THE MONUMENT TO GENERAL OGLETHORPE, FOUNDER OF THE
COLONY OF GEORGIA, IN CHIPPEWA SQUARE, SAVANNAH.]
In 1743 Oglethorpe left Georgia forever, after having given it
the best that there was in his head and heart for ten years. In
1752 Georgia became a royal province, and remained such until the
breaking out of the Revolution in 1775, through which she helped
her sister colonies to fight their way to victory, when she took
her place among the 'old thirteen' free and independent states."
THE CONDITION OF GEORGIA DURING THE REVOLUTION.
When the American Colonies of Great Britain determined to rebel at the
stubborn demands of the mother country, Georgia had least cause to join
the revolutionary movement.
This colony was by fifty years the youngest of the "original thirteen,"
and had been specially favored by England. She was the largest, but the
weakest, of all the provinces. The landless of other countries and of
other colonies had come in large numbers to obtain a home where they
might own the soil they tilled. At the beginning of the Revolution the
total population of Georgia was about 20,000 whites and 17,000 blacks.
Georgia was now exporting rice, indigo, and skins to Europe, and
lumber, horses, and provisions to the West Indies. Tobacco was
cultivated with great success by the settlers, and all necessaries of
life were easily raised on her soil.
The province boasted of one weekly newspaper, called the "_Georgia
Gazette_," which was published every Thursday at Savannah.
Since 1760 the colony had prospered greatly under Sir James Wright,
who was one of the most capable and devoted of the British provincial
governors. There were few local grievances, and many of the people did
not wish to defy the home authority.
But they realized that this restful condition could not long continue,
for they occupied an exceedingly dangerous position. The sea coast
was easily seized by the British, and they were also exposed to the
attacks of the British in Florida, as well as the many savage tribes
of Indians on the north and west.
Thus threatened on all sides, Georgia thought it best to join her
sister colonies, that she might have protection.
The news of the battle of Lexington removed all hesitation, and united
the people of Georgia in the determination to assert their rights.
Georgia rallied her mountaineer riflemen to the cause of liberty.
Right manfully did her raw, untrained volunteers respond to the
burning, eloquent appeal of Patrick Henry, the Virginian. His speech
awoke the sleeping pride of the South, and aroused her sons to action.
Georgia strove to equip her little band of patriots, but she had but
few resources. Congress gave her all the aid possible, but soldiers and
funds were required everywhere, and Georgia's share was very small. Her
sole dependence for protection was her 3,000 raw militia. There were
40,000 Indians to the north and west with 10,000 warriors!
The British bought the friendship of the Indians with presents which
the colonists could not afford.
From the first of this war Georgia kept her representatives in the
Continental Congress, which met to form plans for mutual protection and
defense. In these dark days men thought little of government, nor was
much required. Liberty and food and clothing for their families were
the principals for which the patriots were now striving.
Many deserters of the American cause took refuge in Florida. These were
called Tories. Many of them were lawless men, and continually harassed
the colonists of South Georgia. They joined the British and Indians,
and made plundering expeditions, sweeping down on the defenseless
people, burning the houses, ruining the fields, and committing the most
atrocious crimes.
Up to this time, Georgia had often sent food supplies to her countrymen
in the north, but now food became so scarce that the governor forbade
the exportation of any kind of provisions.
Colonel Brown, who vowed to wreak vengeance on every American citizen,
now fulfilled his vow to the uttermost. His murderous bands made their
raids in every direction; no mercy was shown to anyone who befriended a
patriot.
It seems that the spirit of resistance in the hearts of the people of
Georgia would have been crushed by these long continued atrocities. But
they never left the field, although often forced to abandon their homes
and sometimes even to leave the state.
What better example of the hardihood of the pioneer women of Georgia
than in the story of Nancy Hart, a remarkable woman who lived in Elbert
County at this time?
When many of the women and children who lived in her neighborhood
left their homes to escape the cruelty of Brown's raiders, Nancy Hart
remained at home to protect her little property.
How we all love the story of how this rough, simple mountaineer woman
outwitted the band of British red coats who demanded food at her cabin.
While she served the meal, she cleverly managed to keep their attention
diverted while she signaled for aid, and hid their arms, which they had
stacked in a corner. Then, when she was discovered, she covered them
with a musket, and, true to her word, shot down the first who stepped
forward.
Thus did the women of Georgia meet the dangers to which they were
exposed in these perilous times.
When Augusta had been abandoned by the British, many of the inhabitants
who had refugeed, returned, hoping for better times. Colonels Elijah
Clarke and John Dooly untiringly guarded the frontiers, which were
continually threatened by the Tories and Indians. Their zeal
encouraged the people, and kept the spirit of liberty awake in the
hearts of the sorely-tried patriots.
But their sufferings were not yet over. Savannah must yet be taken from
the British. In the long, weary struggle, the brave revolutionists were
greatly aided by the French.
The bombardment of Savannah lasted five days. The unfortunate
inhabitants suffered greatly. Houses were riddled by shot and shell.
Helpless women, children, and old men were forced to seek safety in
damp cellars, and even then, many were killed by shots intended for the
enemy.
How sad to think of the many precious lives lost in that bloody fray,
and the hopes crushed in the hearts of the survivors!
The British still held Savannah, the French sailed away, and the
American army retreated northward, leaving Georgia to the enemy.
The death blow had been dealt to the hopes of Georgia. The Tories,
exulting in the humiliation of the state, now made raids in every
direction, insulting, robbing, and persecuting, the discouraged
patriots barbarously. They seized whatever they coveted, clothing,
jewels, plate, furniture or negroes. They even beat little children to
force them to tell where valuables were hidden.
No mercy was shown to old men who had stayed at home to protect their
families. They and their families were driven from the state. All means
of conveyance being taken away, even the women and children were forced
to make the journey on foot. But the majority of our people were so
poor that they were obliged to remain at home, and endure trials more
grievous than before.
The conduct of British soldiers in Savannah was such that Whig families
residing there found it almost unendurable. But the women bore these
hardships with a fortitude becoming the wives of patriots.
At last, three years after the seige of Savannah, Georgia was free of
the hated British. Gradually the people returned to their former homes
and vocations. But what a sad home-coming! War had laid its desolating
hand upon the face of the country.
The state was full of widows and orphans, fully one half of all the
available property of her people was swept away, the fields were
uncultivated, and there was no money to repair losses. Her boundaries
were not well defined, and large tracts of land in her limits were
still held by the Indians. Truly, the condition of Georgia was
deplorable!
But there was no repining, for the patriots, rejoicing in their
liberty, cheerfully set to work to lay the foundations of future
prosperity. Gladly they had given their all as the price of
Liberty!--_Etowah Chapter._
FORT RUTLEDGE OF THE REVOLUTION.
BY MRS. P. H. MELL.
When the Calhoun plantation (in South Carolina), upon which Clemson
College is now located, was purchased in 1826, it was called "Clergy
Hall." It received this name because the original mansion was built by
the Rev. James McIlhenny who resided there with his son-in-law, the
Rev. James Murphy. An old Revolutionary fort known in history as Fort
Rutledge was upon this estate, crowning a hill overlooking the Seneca
River and when Mr. Calhoun took possession of the place, he changed its
name to "Fort Hill." Although fifty years had elapsed since the fort
was built and doubtless there were few remains of it to be seen at that
time, still many were living who remembered it well, and the hill upon
which it stood was known from the earliest settlement of the country by
the name of "Fort Hill."
One of the most beautiful drives on the Clemson property is the road to
Fort Rutledge which is about a mile from the college. This road winds
through rich cornfields of bottom land; it then rises gently to the
top of a long level ridge which slopes precipitously down to the fields
on one hand and the Seneca River on the other; trees and shrubs thickly
clothe the sides of this ridge and beautiful and extended views can be
seen in every direction. Looking to the east, Clemson College, seated
upon an opposite hill, with its many buildings and the dwellings of the
community presents an ideal picture of loveliness; on the north, the
Blue Ridge mountains, forty miles away, are clearly seen with several
lofty ranges; to the west and south, the eye follows the river winding
through smiling valleys, the cultivated fields green with promise which
is always fulfilled.
This boldly commanding ridge, overlooking the surrounding country, was
well adapted for an outlook during the conflicts between the Indians
and the early settlers. The Seneca Indians had one of their largest
towns on the river at the base of the hill, extending for four miles
on both sides, the hundreds of acres of inexhaustible bottom land
supplying them bountifully with corn even with the crudest methods of
cultivation.
Nothing remains of the old fort to-day but the abandoned well, which
has been filled and is marked by a tangled growth of weeds and shrubs,
and the cellar of the old lookout tower or five sided bastion; this is
faced with brick and the shape can be seen distinctly.
One of the early battles of the Revolution was fought near Fort Hill at
Seneca town at its base. This town was one of note among the Indians
and up to this day arrow heads and other implements of war or household
use may be found upon its site. For generations the Indians preserved
a strong attachment for this spot and up to the time that the college
began its active work, "Bushy Head," an Indian Chief from the Cherokee
reservation in North Carolina, would lead a band here every summer.
The story of the battle here is taken from official reports and from
McCrady's "History of South Carolina."
During the spring of 1776, the Tory leaders, Stuart and Cameron, had
informed the Cherokees that a British fleet was coming to attack
Charleston and as soon as they heard of its arrival they must fall upon
the up-country pioneer settlements and destroy them. With the British
to fight in the south and the combined Tories and Indians in the north
it was believed that the province would soon be subjugated. The news
came to the Indians on the eve of July 1st and at the dawn of day they
were on the warpath slaying every white person they could capture,
without distinction of age or sex. At this time the Hamptons were
massacred with many other families.
Mr. Francis Salvador lived on Corn-acre or Coronaca creek in Ninety-six
district. He was one of the few members of the provincial congress
from the up-country, a man of much ability, enthusiasm and patriotism.
When the dreadful tidings of the Indian uprising reached him that
day, he mounted his horse and galloped to the home of Major Andrew
Williamson, twenty-eight miles away; he found that officer already
aroused to the horrors of the situation and busily endeavoring to
collect forces. But the settlers were terror stricken, several hundred
had been murdered and the survivors had but one thought and that was
to get their families safely into the nearest forts. He waited two
days and only forty men had volunteered. With this small band Major
Williamson with Mr. Salvador started on the 3rd of July for the Indian
villages resolved to punish them severely. But when the settlers had
provided for the safety of their wives and children, many of them
hurried to join him and on the 5th there were 110 men with him, on
the 8th his band increased to 222 and on the 16th they numbered 450;
re-inforcements came from Charlestown and also from Georgia and on the
22nd of July he was at the head of 1,150 men. Meanwhile he had been
advancing from his home towards the Cherokee country and was encamped
on Baker's creek, a few miles above Moffattsville. Here his scouts
brought him the news that Alexander Cameron, thirteen white men and a
band of Indians were camped on Oconore Creek about thirty miles away,
and Williamson determined to surprise and capture them before they
could hear of his proximity. He therefore selected with care three
hundred and thirty horsemen, the brave Mr. Salvador accompanying him
and started about six o'clock on the evening of July 31st planning to
surprise the enemy before day. About two in the morning of the first
day of August they drew near the town of Essenecca (or Seneca). A party
of his men who had visited the place two days before had reported to
him that the town was thoroughly evacuated; trusting to this report he
carelessly neglected to send out advance scouts, rode into an ambush
and was surprised and completely routed by the Indians at this town.
Quoting Major Williamson's report of the event:
"The enemy either having discovered my march or laid themselves in
ambush with a design to cut off my spies or party I had sent out,
had taken possession of the first houses in Seneca, and posted
themselves behind a long fence on an eminence close to the road
where we were to march, and to prevent being discovered had filled
up the openings between the rails, with corn blades, etc. They
suffered the guides and advance guard to pass, when a gun from
the house was discharged (meant I suppose as a signal for those
placed behind the fence, who a few seconds afterwards poured in
a heavy fire upon my men), which being unexpected, staggered my
advance party. Here Mr. Salvador received three wounds and fell by
my side; my horse was shot down under me but I received no hurt.
Lieut. Farar of Capt. Prince's Company immediately supplied me
with his. I desired him to take care of Mr. Salvador, but before
he could find him in the dark, the enemy unfortunately got his
scalp which was the only one taken. Capt. Smith, son of the late
Capt. Aaron Smith, saw the Indian, but thought it was his servant
taking care of his master or could have prevented it. He died about
half-after two o'clock in the morning, forty-five minutes after he
received the wounds, sensible to the last. When I came up to him
after dislodging the enemy, and speaking to him, he asked whether
I had beat the enemy, I told him yes, he said he was glad of it,
and shook me by the hand, and bade me farewell and said he would
die in a few minutes. Two men died in the morning, and six more
who were badly wounded I have since sent down to the settlements
and given directions to Dr. DeLaTowe and Russell to attend them. I
remained on the ground till daybreak and burnt the houses on this
side of the river and afterwards crossed the river; the same day
reduced Seneca entirely to ashes."
An Extract from another report gives further particulars:
"The Indian spies had observed the Major's march and alarmed their
camp; upon which about thirty Indians and as many white men went to
Seneca and placed themselves in ambush. The Indians had one killed
and three wounded.
"Seneca, four miles long on each side of the river with six
thousand bushels of corn, &c, burned August 1st.
"Sugar Town and Keowee, Aug. 4th."
The account given by McCrady in his History of South Carolina is a
little more unfavorable than Major Williamson's:
"Major Williamson's forces, completely surprised, broke away and
fled in the greatest confusion. The enemy kept up a constant fire
which the retreating militia returned at random, as dangerous to
their friends who were willing to advance against the enemy as it
was to the enemy themselves. Fortunately Lieutenant Colonel Hammond
rallied a party of about twenty men, and, making an unexpected
charge, repulsed the savage foe and escaped. The Indians lost but
one man killed and three wounded; of Major Williamson's party
three died from their wounds and fourteen were badly injured. When
daylight arrived he burnt that part of Esseneca town which was
on the eastern side of the Keowee River, and later Col. Hammond
crossed the river burnt that on the western side as well and
destroyed all the provisions, computed at six thousand bushels
of Indian corn, besides peas and other articles. The object of
overtaking Cameron and his associates having been thus defeated
Williamson retreated and joined his camp at Twenty-three Mile
Creek."
The loss of Mr. Salvador was greatly deplored by the province. He was
a man of prominence, intelligence and worth and his services to the
American cause would have been most valuable. An interesting sketch of
his life may be found in Elzas "History of Jews of South Carolina,"
written by Mr. A. S. Salley.
On the 8th of August, 1776, Williamson marched with 640 men upon the
Indian towns. They destroyed Ostatoy, Tugaloo, Tomassee, Chehohee
and Eustash; every bit of the corn was burned and the Indians were
forced to live upon roots and berries, etc. The expedition was most
successful and completely retrieved the defeat at Seneca. McCrady
states that about this time Major Williamson was appointed colonel of
the Ninety-six Regiment and upon Colonel Williamson's return to his
camp he found that numbers of his men had gone home, forced to do so
from fatigue, want of clothes, and other necessaries and that many
who had remained were in equal distress. He was obliged therefore to
grant furloughs ordering them to rejoin him at Esseneca on the 28th to
which place he marched on the 16th with about six hundred men. Here he
erected a fort, which in honor of the president of South Carolina, he
called Fort Rutledge.
Upon the breaking out of this war application had been made to North
Carolina and Virginia to co-operate with the forces of South Carolina
in this region. Each of these states complied and raised a body of
troops. The first under General Rutherford, to act in conjunction with
the South Carolinians on this side the mountains, and the other under
Colonel Christie, to act against the over-hill Cherokees. But Colonel
Williamson had destroyed all the lower settlements before the North
Carolinians under General Rutherford took the field.
Colonel Williamson now having increased his force to 2,300 men, broke
up the camp at Esseneca; leaving 300 men as a guard to the inhabitants
and as a garrison to Fort Rutledge he marched with about 2,000 men to
co-operate with General Rutherford.
History tells us that the campaign was successful; the Indians received
lessons they never forgot; in less than three months the Cherokees
lost 2,000 and humbled and broken in spirit; they sued for peace on
any terms. A treaty of pacification was signed and the Indians yielded
to South Carolina a large tract of land embracing the counties of
Anderson, Pickens, Oconee and Greenville.
So this is the story of the building and holding of Fort Rutledge. The
remains of the old fort are well worth preserving for its foundations
were laid in a period of storm and stress and suffering; its rude walls
frowned upon the Indians early in the Revolution; its watch tower kept
guard so that the settler's family in his humble cabin might rest in
peace; with its little garrison of three hundred men it did its work
well and effectually intimidated the enemies of the province in this
part of the country.
After the Revolutionary war it was abandoned and gradually fell into
ruins and decay but the name "Fort Hill" has always clung to it and the
site never has been forgotten.--_American Monthly_, 1907.
THE EFFORTS OF LAFAYETTE FOR THE CAUSE OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE.
BY BESSIE CAROLYN MCCLAIN.
_Gloversville High School, Gloversville, N. Y._
Probably no other foreigner accomplished so much or sympathized so
deeply with the cause of American Independence as did the Marquis de
Lafayette. A French nobleman by birth, an heir to an immense estate at
thirteen, married to one of the most beautiful ladies of the French
Court, he chose a life of privation and hardship, to one of luxury
and idleness. The love of liberty, inherent in his soul, made him a
champion of the cause which seemed the last chance for liberty to
obtain a foothold upon the earth. From the time the situation of the
English American colonies was made known in France, in 1776, until they
became a free and independent nation, he gave himself, heart and soul,
to their cause. He served them both by his personal qualities and by
his active efforts, as a French nobleman, and as an American soldier
and general.
The qualities by which Lafayette most aided this country in its great
conflict, were his love of liberty, enthusiasm, generosity and loyalty.
His love of liberty first made him interested in the struggle of the
American Colonies with their Mother Country, and this same love of
liberty kept him enthused in the cause, and gave him the strength and
courage to depart from his home, his friends and his country. Indeed it
was the root of the other qualities by which he did us service.
When once his enthusiasm was aroused, nothing could diminish it.
When he heard that the credit of the "insurgents" was so low that
they couldn't possibly provide him a ship, he said in that case they
needed him all the more, and he bought one with his own money. It was
enthusiasm that led him to the front in the battle of Brandywine. It
was enthusiasm that made him ride seventy miles and back, for the
French fleet when it was needed so sorely. Of course, was not his motto
"cur non?"
In all his dealings with this country, he showed his generosity and
disinterest. What was it if not generosity, when at his own expense,
he fitted out the ship that brought him and the other officers to this
country? How many times during the war did he clothe his soldiers
and supply their wants when the country couldn't? He proved his
disinterested devotion to the satisfaction of Congress, when he offered
to serve as a volunteer without pay and at his own expense. Gladly
did he forego the comforts and pleasures to which education and rank
entitled him, and bear with the soldiers every hardship and privation.
When, chiefly through his influence, France agreed to send aid to
America, and offered him a commission, he refused it so as not to
arouse jealousy among other Frenchmen. Was not this unselfish love of
liberty of the plainest type?
His most striking characteristic, and I think the one by which he did
us the most service, was his loyalty. It strengthened Washington to
have one man upon whom he could rely so completely. When Gates was
trying to stir up trouble against him and had appointed Lafayette to
take charge of an invasion into Canada over which he had no control, he
urged him to accept, because it would be safer with him than any one
else. Lafayette did accept and he carried it out in such a way that
Gates' scheme failed completely. At the Battle of Monmouth, too, when
Washington sent Charles Lee to command over him, he showed his loyalty
to Washington by submitting quietly and doing all he could to bring
a victory out of a defeat. But what counted most, perhaps, was the
faithfulness with which he carried out every order no matter how small
and unimportant.
Lafayette also aided this country by his active efforts as a French
nobleman. He induced France and Spain to join in preparing a fleet
against the British, and it was not his fault that Spain kept putting
it off until too late--he made the effort. He did succeed in raising
the popularity of the Colonies in France, and in securing six thousand
troops under Rochambeau, a fleet under d'Estaing and supplies for
our soldiers. After the French forces arrived, he was very useful in
keeping harmony between the armies, because of his influence over his
own countrymen as well as Americans.
Lafayette was one of the most faithful soldiers as well as one of the
best generals, this country had during the Revolutionary War. From
the time he offered himself as a volunteer, until the war was over he
served the country faithfully and well. At the very beginning of his
career in this country, he became Washington's aide-de-camp, and as
such learned a great deal of the latter's methods of fighting. In this
capacity he was in the thick of the battle of Brandywine and did much,
by his ready daring to encourage the soldiers. Before a wound, which
he received in this battle, had entirely healed, and while he was out
to reconnoitre, he came unexpectedly upon a large body of Hessians. He
attacked boldly, and they, believing they were fighting all of Greene's
men, retreated. Thus he was ever ready with his wit and daring.
Throughout the long dreary months when the army was wintering at
Valley Forge, Lafayette suffered with the soldiers and helped
alleviate the misery as best he could. It was during this winter
that Gates and Conway made the conspiracy to put Washington out of
power and to put Gates in his stead. To accomplish this, they wished
to secure Lafayette's help, so they contrived to put him at the
head of an expedition into Canada, with Conway second in command.
Upon Washington's entreaty he accepted the commission, but under
such conditions that they knew beforehand that their scheme was a
failure. When he arrived at Albany, he saw that nothing was ready for
an invasion of Canada, and that the affair could be nothing but a
disappointment to America and Europe, and a humiliation to himself,
nevertheless he made the most of his time by improving the forts and
pacifying the Indians.
When the British left Philadelphia, Washington wished to follow and
force a battle, and, when General Lee laid down his command, put
Lafayette in charge. Hardly had the latter started, when Charles Lee
asked for the command again. Washington could not recall Lafayette,
yet he wished to pacify Lee, so he trusted to Lafayette's affection
for himself, and sent Lee ahead with two extra divisions, when, as
senior officer, he would take charge of the whole. Lafayette retired,
sensibly, and did all he could to rally the battle that Lee was
conducting so poorly. Finally he sent for Washington--the only man that
could save the day.
The only real opportunity Lafayette had, of showing his generalship,
was in the southern campaign of 1781, when he was placed in charge of a
thousand light infantry and ordered to check the raids of the British.
By a rapid march he forestalled Philips, who was threatening valuable
stores at Richmond, and harrassed him all the way to the Chickahominy
River. Then, while he was separating the stores, Cornwallis, joined
by Philips, took a stand between him and Albermarle where he had
placed a large part of the stores. While Cornwallis was preparing to
fight, Lafayette, keeping in mind the admonition of Washington not to
endanger his troops, escaped to Albermarle by an unused road. After
this Cornwallis gave up hopes of trapping "that boy," as he called
Lafayette, and fortified himself at Yorktown.
When Lafayette had been given the defense of Virginia, his soldiers,
hungry and destitute, were on the point of desertion. With ready tact
he had supplied, from his own pocket, the direst necessities, and then
had given them an opportunity of going north. Of course, when placed
on their honor, they followed him with good will. Having received
orders from Washington, not to let Cornwallis escape, he took his stand
on Malvern Hill, a good strategic position, to await the coming of
Washington and Rochambeau. When the siege was on and the only possible
escape for Cornwallis was through North Carolina, this, Lafayette
closed and his light infantry also captured one of the redoubts the
British had fixed. The Siege of Yorktown ended his services for the
independence of this country; the war was over and he was needed no
more.
The results of Lafayette's efforts for the cause of American
Independence can hardly be estimated. They say enthusiasm is contagious
and it seemed so in his case, for his very enthusiasm for the cause won
others to it and gave it greater popularity in Europe than it would
otherwise have had. In this country he improved the condition of the
soldiers by his ready generosity, and raised the spirit of the army
by his own example of disinterested patriotism. He gave Washington
what he most needed, at that time, a friend whom he could trust
implicitly, and by his loyalty did his share towards keeping the army
undivided. The forces he secured from France encouraged our soldiers
and the supplies did a good deal towards satisfying their discontent.
By inducing France to acknowledge the United States of America, he
did us one of the greatest services possible. We were then one of the
world's nations, and our credit went up accordingly. It isn't likely
that the results of his efforts as an American soldier and general, can
ever be fully ascertained. He did so many little things just when they
seemed to be so needed, that it is impossible to sum up their results.
All we can say is that he did his best for the cause of American
Independence.--_Report of Sons of the Revolution 1911-12._
JAMES JACKSON.
General James Jackson was born in Morton Hampstead, in the beautiful
English County of Devonshire. His father, James Jackson, died when he
was a boy and left rather a large family. He heard much talk of the
American Colonies and had a great desire to go and live in them. His
mother and grandfather would not consent, and once he attempted to
sail, hidden in the hold of a vessel, but was brought back. Seeing his
determination to go, sooner or later, and influenced by John Wereat,
a leading Whig, the family finally consented. Sailing at his earliest
opportunity, he landed in Georgia; and at the age of fifteen began the
study of law in the office of an eminent lawyer in Savannah.
In 1775, in the beginning of Revolutionary Days, he was one of
the first lads to shoulder a musket for the cause of freedom. He
distinguished himself in several skirmishes near Savannah. In 1776,
Colonel Baker conducted an attack upon Tybee Island, where some of
the enemy from Vessels-of-War were living, and they destroyed the
buildings, and drove the enemy to their ships. In this attack, Jackson
distinguished himself, winning therewith honors from the governor, and
the thanks and admiration of the people.
He served throughout the Revolutionary War, and when Savannah
surrendered, Gen. Anthony Wayne, ordered that the keys of Savannah
be given to Jackson, because of his gallant service to his state and
country, and because "he was the first American soldier to tread the
soil of a town, from which the arms of a tyrant had too long kept its
lawful possessor."
At the close of the Revolutionary War, James Jackson began the practice
of law in Savannah.
Like Joseph, in the Bible story, he remembered and longed for his
youngest brother; so he sent a request to his parents that his brother
Henry be permitted to come to America, promising to educate him and
care for him as a son, but in his stead the family sent his brother,
Abram. He kept his brother and gave him advantages, but again sent
for Henry. The latter came and James Jackson educated him, and at his
death left him a child's share of his property. This Henry was for
years professor at the Georgia State University, and was interpreter
to William H. Crawford, when the latter was minister to France. His
son was General Henry R. Jackson, of Savannah, who was a poet and a
distinguished officer in both the Mexican and Confederate Wars.
General James Jackson had a brother, John, who was in the British Navy
and was killed during the Revolutionary War.
In one of her letters to James, his mother wrote how much she wished
she could see him, and said: "It is a great and a deep water that
divides us and when I think of it my thoughts turn to my poor John."
You see John had been buried at sea, and it was not an easy matter in
those days for James to visit across the ocean, when it took weeks to
make the journey.
General Jackson held many offices and was one of Georgia's greatest
governors. He defeated the Yazoo Fraud, resigning his place in the
National Senate, and going from there to the Legislature of his State
in order to do it. He is the only man in the history of our country who
ever gave up being a Senator to go to the Legislature.
It has been said that if Jackson's heart were cut out after his death,
on it would have been found the beloved word, "Georgia."
He died in Washington years after, again a Senator, and is buried in
the Congressional burial ground. His epitaph was written by his friend
John Randolph, and is as follows:
"In the memory of Major-General James Jackson of Georgia, who
deserved and enjoyed the confidence of a grateful country, a
soldier of the Revolution, he was the determined foe of foreign
tyranny, the scourge and terror of corruption at home."
James Jackson's maternal grandfather never forgave him for fighting
against England in the Revolutionary War, and in his will left to his
grandson, James, only money enough to buy a silver cup.--CAROLINE
PATTERSON, _Mary Hammond Washington Chapter, D. A. R._
EXPERIENCES OF JOAB HORNE.
_Compiled by one of his descendants_, MRS. B. M. DAVIDSON, _Stone
Castle Chapter D. A. R., Dawson Ga._
Away back in the misty past, Isaac Horne, of Scotland, crossed the
Atlantic and settled in Edgecomb County, North Carolina, on the Tar
River. Isaac Horne's name figures in the early history of North
Carolina. He was one of the first commissioners appointed to establish
the boundary lines between the counties of the States. He was a wealthy
planter, but the greater portion of his property was destroyed by the
Tories. He was killed at "Gates defeat." Isaac Horne had three sons:
William, Henry, Joab. This story is of the youngest son, Joab, a
gallant Revolutionary soldier under General Francis Marion.
Joab Horne met and wooed an English girl, Nancy Ricks. They encountered
parental objections to their marriage on account of their youth,
sixteen and fourteen, respectively, but love won and so the union was
consumated. Their parents never forgave them, and refused to aid them
in any way. We can hardly imagine what hardships they endured; but with
his beautiful young wife to encourage him he was determined to surmount
all difficulties. Hearing of the rich lands of Georgia, they decided to
emigrate. Joab had one mule, and he procured a "hogshead" through which
he ran a piece of scantling to serve as an axle, to this axle shafts
were attached; his mule was hitched to this wonderful contrivance,
their clothes put inside the rolling hogshead, and thus the journey to
Georgia was begun.
God had blessed their union with the gift of a little child, but the
exposure resulting from this mode of travel was more than the little
one could with-stand. A little grave by the road side marked the first
mile stone of real sorrow in their lives. Finally, they reached their
destination in Burke County, Georgia, on the Ogeechee River, and began
their new life in a new country. This country was almost a wilderness
at that time. The first preparation for a home was a bush arbor, with a
real Georgia bed-stead, and fresh straw for a mattress; but it was not
long before they had as comfortable a home as could be found in those
days.
Trading seemed to be one of Joab's characteristics. He had two hats,
a "Sunday" and an "every day hat," the Sunday hat he traded for a
wash-pot. Nancy, his wife, would trade her jewelry, which she had
brought from her girl-hood home, for household necessities. Six
children blessed their union, four girls and two boys. Later they moved
to Pulaski County, near Hawkinsville, Ga. The evening of their life was
spent in prosperity, a sure reward for such endurance, labor and love.
Nancy (Ricks) Horne died at the age of sixty-three, on their plantation
in Pulaski County.
Joab moved, with his son Eli, who married Sarah Anderson of
Hawkinsville, to west Florida, on the Yellow River; there he lived
to the ripe old age of eighty-seven. Many a night would he sit by
the fire-side and entertain his children and friends by relating
experiences of other days. He could truly say, with Columbus: "For the
years will give back what the years with-held, and the balance swing
level in the end."
Joab Horne is buried in Stewart cemetery, on Yellow River, west
Florida. The following is a copy of the epitaph on his tomb:
"In Memory of Joab Horne
Member of the Revolution
Born Dec. 30--1753
Died July 28--1840."
"Blow, gentle gale, and bear my soul away to Canaan's Land."
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF MARGARET KATHERINE BARRY, KNOWN AS "KATE BARRY,
HEROINE OF THE COWPENS."
Kate Barry, an important character during the Revolutionary War, was
noted as a scout, and once during her husband's absence was flogged by
the Tories to make her disclose the whereabouts of her husband, and his
company of Rangers. Her husband, Captain Andrew Barry, was a magistrate
under King George III, and continued to exercise that office till the
Revolution began. He was also a Captain in Colonial period, but at the
beginning of the War for Independence, 1776, was recommissioned Captain
of South Carolina Rangers by Governor Rutledge, and was a daring and
brilliant officer during the whole war.
He was at Musgroves' Mill, Cowpens, Cedar Springs, and many other
engagements, and was severely wounded during the battle of Musgroves'
Mill, 18th August, 1780, but with the tender care of his wife Kate
Barry, who was always close by for scout duty, he was soon restored to
health.
Captain Andrew Barry was also a religious man, and was one of the
first elders elected by Nazareth Presbyterian Church in Spantanburg
County, S. C., in which capacity he served the church 'till his death,
June 17th, 1811. His name appears in the book, "Heitman's Historical
Register of the Officers of the Continental Army."
The Richard Barry who signed the Mecklenburg Declaration of
Independence was of this family.
It is written of Kate Barry that she knew no fear, and where duty
pointed she dared to go, and where her love and affections centered,
she would risk any and all dangers to guard and protect those whom she
loved. Kate Barry was as remarkable for piety as for patriotism, she
came of a religious family, and not only are there stories of deeds
of kindness and sympathy, well authenticated, handed down in family
traditions, but her sister, Rosa Moore, wife of Richard Barry, was
also noted as a ministering angel at the bedside of the dying; and her
prayers in hours of trial and bereavement made indelible impressions.
During the War of the Revolution Kate Barry acted as a voluntary scout
for the patriot Whigs of South Carolina, and was so efficient that the
patriot bands were seldom surprised by the British. She was the idol of
her husband's company of Rangers, any one of whom would have risked his
own life to save hers.
After the war ended Major Crawford approached Captain Andrew Barry, and
said: "It is your duty to kill Elliott, the Tory who struck Kate Barry
one cut with a whip to intimidate her and make her disclose where the
patriots were encamped; but if you will not, then I will kill him, for
no man shall live who struck Kate Barry." Then eleven men, including
Captain Barry and Major Crawford, went out in search of Elliott, whom
they found at a neighborhood gathering. So soon as they were seen
approaching, Elliott fled into the house, and sought concealment under
a bed. The doors were closed, and after parleying with Captain Barry,
and his friends, Elliott's friends agreed that Captain Barry alone, but
unarmed, might enter the house, and see Elliott, with the promise that
Barry would not kill him, which he might easily have done, as Barry is
described by Dr. Howe in his "History of the Presbyterian Church in
South Carolina," as a handsome man, six feet and one inch in height
and of powerful muscular strength. Barry entered the house, and the
doors were again closed, and Elliott came out from under the bed, when
Captain Barry at once seized a three-legged stool, with which he struck
Elliott to the floor, exclaiming: "I am now satisfied, I will not take
his life."
When General Greene, after Gates' defeat at Camden, was placed in
command of the Army of the Southern Department, he sent General Morgan
into South Carolina to assemble the scattered patriots, preparatory to
reclaiming South Carolina, which after Gates' defeat, and Buford's
annihilation at the Waxhaws, lay bleeding at the feet of the British
Lion. It was then that Kate Barry in her voluntary capacity as scout
for General Morgan, of whose command her husband's company of Rangers
was a part, hunted up patriot bands and hurried them forward to Morgan.
In a short time General Morgan found himself with sufficient force
added to his little army of four hundred regulars to give battle to
Tarleton at the Cowpens. To hurry up the South Carolina Rangers she
swam her horse across rivers, evaded the Tories, and encountered a
thousand dangers, but succeeded in recruiting Morgan's little army with
sufficient patriotic force to bring off the best fought battle of the
Revolution, and at a time when all seemed lost to the patriot cause,
and so followed Carolina's redemption.
Who knows but Kate Barry's prayers were answered when Broad River
so suddenly rose from a descending freshet, and cut off Cornwallis'
pursuing army after the Battle of the Cowpens. The same downflowing
freshet happened at Yadkin, Morgan making good his retreat to Grane
near Guilford Court House.
Kate Barry was a daughter of Col. Charles Moore, who was born in
Scotland in 1727, and who went into Ireland from Scotland with the
Duke of Hamilton, his relative, as family tradition says Col. Charles
Moore's mother was a Hamilton.
Charles Moore was a college graduate, and a prominent teacher at the
time he removed to Carolina, and is described as such in a deed for
land now on file of record in North Carolina, but what important part
he took in the War of the Revolution is not positively known; further
than that his son, Captain Thomas Moore, distinguished himself at
Cowpens, and was afterwards a General in the War of 1812. But Col.
Charles Moore's six sons-in-law all acted prominent parts on the side
of the patriots in the War of the Revolution, viz: Captain Andrew
Barry, husband of Margaret Katherine Moore; Col. Jno. Lawson, husband
of Alice Moore; Judge Richard Barry, husband of Rosa Moore; Rev. R.
M. Cunningham, D. D., husband of Elizabeth Moore; Capt. Robt. Hanna,
husband of ---- Moore. He was on the staff of General Sumter at the
Battle of Blackstock; Matthew Patton, husband of the two last sisters
was a noted soldier, but his rank is not known, except that he was a
staff officer.
Written by Mary S. Irwin Wood (Mrs. James S. Wood) Regent of
Savannah Chapter, a descendent of Captain Andrew Barry and Kate
Barry--from records and authenticated family traditions, and read
at June meeting of the Savannah Chapter D. A. R. 1913, by her
daughter Miss Rosalind Lawson Wood, by request sent to Elijah Clark
Chapter D. A. R., Athens, Ga., to be read by Mrs. Augusta Wood
DuBose, also a descendant of Kate Barry and her husband, Captain
Andrew Barry.
ART AND ARTISTS OF THE REVOLUTION.
During the reign of George III, in the town of Boston, with only
eighteen thousand inhabitants, there hung in the library of Harvard
University a copy of "A Cardinal" by Van Dycke. The New England states
were opposed to art as a principle, but showed signs of literary
and artistic activity at this time. Exhibitions were unknown, the
painters were "traveling artists" who went over the country painting
portraits on sign boards, stage coaches, and fire engines, for practice
and also a living. John Singleton Copeley, in Boston, was the only
American artist who did meritorious work. Before he came under foreign
influences, he wielded his brush with great dexterity, "The Death
of the Earl of Chatham" in the National Gallery in London, being
one of his famous pictures. The grouping of the portrait figures is
skillfully arranged. To our art, the portraits he painted in Boston
are of importance. The lesson thus taught led us into the interior of
the royalist era, with carved furniture, showy curtains, peopled with
well-to-do men and women, lavishly robed, that suggests the customs
as well as the people of the Revolutionary period. Benjamin West, a
contemporary of Copely, had nothing in common with the development of
American art. He left at an early age for England, where he climbed the
pinnacle of social, if not artistic success. He was a personal friend
of the king, was employed as his historical painter, succeeding Sir
Joshua Reynolds as president of the royal academy. One of his pictures
quite noted was "Christ Rejected." "Death on the Pale Horse," the size
of the canvas he used was 200 by 264 feet. His daring innovation of
dressing the characters showed the costumes of the time and country in
which they lived. It was his picturesque personality more than his art
that attracts us to-day. In his native town, Philadelphia, it is said
the Cherokee Indians taught him the secret of preparing color. This was
the first city in the Union where opportunities for art growth and a
moderate patronage presented themselves. Charles Wilson Peale, a man
rather versatile, also a painter of some merit, established the first
"Art Gallery," a museum of historical portraits, in his residence in
Philadelphia.
John Trumbull was a different type, was not so richly endowed by
natural gifts. Every accomplishment meant strenuous study, yet he is
dear to us for his glorification of revolutionary history. "The Battle
of Bunker Hill," "The Death of Montgomery" and "the Declaration of
Independence," are familiar. The growth of art was handicapped, more
than benefited--America was now an independent nation. The Royalists
who could afford the luxury of art left this country. Now three men
stepped forth who bore upon their brush tips the honor and progress of
American art, Thomas Sully, John Vanderlyn and Washington Allston. The
first mentioned became rapidly the most fashionable portrait painter
of the day. His sweet faces, with robes draped gracefully, show great
progress and execution. Sully was represented at the Philadelphia
Academy by one hundred and sixteen pictures. It is said he painted a
full length portrait of Queen Victoria.
Vanderlyn lived in Rome painting. Washington Allston painted on his
enormous canvas "Belchazzer's Feast." "The Angel Liberating St. Peter
from Prison" is one of decided merit. Gilbert Stuart was not a follower
of the others, had a distinct and forceful individuality, the striking
details of his work being brilliance in coloring and the natural
life-like posing. He was the first American master of painting. His
early sketches were lost. At the age of thirteen he received commission
to paint two portraits. Two years later he went to Scotland. His stay
there was short, he pined for home, secured passage and returned,
later going to London in 1775, suffering privation. Afterwards a pupil
under West for five years, his success was immediate; people of wit
and fashion thronged his studio. He tasked himself to six sitters a
day. Then devoted himself to society, living in great splendor. During
this period he painted Louis the Sixteenth, George III, and Prince of
Wales. Now his position was assured, he indulged himself in refusing
many sitters, money failed to tempt him, only those who appealed to his
artistic taste or afforded the best opportunity for a good picture. He
was willing to give up all the golden opportunities Europe presented
that he might have the privilege and satisfaction of painting the one
man, whose heroic qualities fascinated him most. In 1792 he returned
to the City of Brotherly Love, establishing his studio here, painted
three portraits of Washington, unlike Peale, who made in all fourteen
of Washington from life, painting him in the prime of his vigour.
Stuart depicts the late autumn of his life, a face in which the lines
of character are softened, a face chastened by responsibilities, it is
the face, who has conquered himself as well as others; he represents
him indeed as "The Father of His Country." He said, "I copy the works
of God, leave clothes to the tailor, and mantua maker."
In Washington he found sentiments, grace and character. In the story
of art, Gilbert Stuart holds a unique, and dignified position. "The
Course of Nature is but the Art of God." Thomas Cole was a landscape
painter. The sketches he painted in the Catskills--the banks, woods,
rocks and the Cascades--gained recognition. He was an ardent student
of English literature, influenced by Sir Walter Scott. In truth, was
more of a poet than painter. His noted pictures were "The Voyage of
Childhood," "The Course of Empire," consisting of five canvasses, first
representing "A Nation's Rise, Progress, Decline and Fall." These are
at the Historical Society of New York. The last picture of the serial,
entitled "Desolation," has rarely been surpassed in solemn majesty, and
depth of thought.--_Miss Emily G. Morrow, American Monthly Magazine._
"UNCLE SAM" EXPLAINED AGAIN.
Troy, New York, is said to be the place where the name "Uncle Sam"
originated. After the declaration of war with England by the colonies
a New York contractor, Elbert Anderson, visited Troy and made it his
headquarters for the purchase of provisions for the Continental army.
The supplies were duly inspected before shipment. One of the inspectors
was Samuel Wilson, brother of Ebenezer, also an inspector and known as
Uncle Sam to the workmen whom he superintended.
The casks in which the beef and pork were packed were marked with the
initials of Elbert Anderson, the contractor, and the United States,
thus: "E. A.--U. S." says the _New York Sun_. The first pair of
initials were of course familiar to the men, but "U. S." mystified
them. The fact was that the name United States was then so new to these
countrymen that its initials were a complete puzzle. They turned to the
nearest explanation, a humorous one and intended as a joke on their
boss. If "E. A." stood for Elbert Anderson, then they opined "U. S."
must stand for "Uncle Sam" Wilson. The joke spread to the Continental
army, which carried it to every part of the country.
AN EPISODE OF THE WAR OF THE REVOLUTION.
In 1781 South Carolina was completely overrun by the British. The
English colonists were divided, the majority being in favor of the
Revolution, but there were a goodly number of loyal men among them who
conscientiously espoused the cause of the Mother country and these were
called Tories. Those who took part in the Revolution were called Whigs.
Lancaster County was their stronghold. They were mostly descendants of
the Scotch-Irish. Among these was Charles Mackey, their acknowledged
leader.
The Whigs had always made Lancaster too hot for the Tories, but the
advent of the British with Tarleton at their head, turned the tide of
war, and now the Tories with Tarleton drove the Whigs from Lancaster
across the Catawba and the Pedee Rivers to join General Marion.
Charles Mackey, as the leader of his band, had made himself very
obnoxious to the Tories and they impatiently waited the time for
vengeance. He was a man of medium size, very active and energetic, a
fine horseman, a splendid shot, hot headed, impulsive, often running
unnecessary risks and doing dare-devil deeds. No work was too hazardous
for him. His wife, Lydia Mackey, was a woman of good common sense, with
a clear head and fine judgment. In her coolness and self-possession she
was far superior to her husband.
They had a family of young children, and Charles Mackey had not heard
from them or seen any of them in several weeks. Their home was not more
than two and a half miles from Tarleton's camp, on the Hanging Rock
Creek. He knew it would be hazardous for him to return to his home so
near Tarleton's camp; but his anxiety became so great that he could no
longer remain in doubt, so he cautiously made his way home where he
unwisely loitered for a week, and during this time he had the temerity
to enter Tarleton's lines more than once in search of information which
was most valuable to his country's defenders.
His home had patches of corn and potatoes on either side of a lane
leading to the front of the house, while at the rear was a large
kitchen-garden extending back to a great swamp, which was almost
impenetrable to man or beast. This swamp was surrounded by a quagmire
from ten to thirty feet wide. It was entered by jumping from tussock to
tussock of moss covered clumps of mold, a foot or two in diameter and
rising six to eight inches above the black jelly-like mire which shook
in every direction when passing over it. A plank or fence-rail served
as a temporary draw-bridge, which was pulled into the swamp after
passing over.
When the country was infested by Tories, Charles Mackey spent his days
in this swamp if not out scouting. At night he ventured home. He had
good watch dogs and they gave the alarm whenever any one approached,
whether by night or day. If at night, he would immediately lift a loose
plank in the floor of his bed room, drop through to the ground, and
out in the rear and run thirty or forty yards across the garden with
his gun in hand and disappear in the swamp, pulling his fence rail
draw-bridge after him. There was no approach to the house from the
rear, and his retreat was always effected with impunity.
Once when he was at home, on the eve of leaving with some valuable
information for the American General, his faithful watch dog failed to
give warning of the approach of strangers and the first notice of their
presence was their shouting "Hallo" in front of the house. Mrs. Mackey
jumped out of bed, threw open the window shutters, stuck her head out,
surveyed carefully the half dozen armed men, and said: "Who is there?"
"Friends," they replied. "Is Charlie Mackey at home?" She promptly
answered "No." In the mean time Charlie had raised the loose plank
in the floor, and was ready to make for the swamp in the rear, when,
stopping for a moment to make sure of the character of his visitors,
he heard the spokesman say: "Well, we are sorry indeed, for there was
a big fight yesterday on Lynch's Creek, between General Marion and the
British, and we routed the Redcoats completely. We have been sent to
General Davie at Lansford with orders to unite with General Marion at
Flat Rock as soon as possible, and then to attack Tarleton. We do not
know the way to Lansford and came to get Charlie to pilot us." Mrs.
Mackey, calm and collected, said she was sorry her husband was not at
home. But her husband was just the reverse, hot headed and impetuous.
This sudden news of victory after so many reverses excited him, and
he madly rushed out into the midst of the mounted men, hurrahing for
Marion and Davie, and shouting vengeance on the Redcoats and Tories,
and he began shaking hands enthusiastically with the boys and asking
particulars about the fight, when the ringleader cooly said: "Well,
Charlie, old fellow, we have set many traps for you, but never baited
them right until now. You are our prisoner." And they marched him
off just as he was, without hat or coat and without allowing him
a moment to say a parting word to his poor wife. They took him to
Col. Tarleton's headquarters where he was tried by court-martial and
sentenced to death as a spy.
The next day, Mrs. Mackey, not knowing what had happened to him,
gathered some fruits and eggs, and with a basket well filled made
her way to Col. Tarleton's. The Colonel was on parade, but a young
officer asked her to be seated. He said: "You have something for sale,
I presume?" She replied that she had fruit and eggs. He gladly took
what she had and paid for them. She then said her basket of fruit was
only a pretext to get to Col. Tarleton's headquarters. That she was
anxious to see him in person on business of great importance. She then
explained to him the capture of her husband and that she wished to get
him released if he were still alive, though she did not know but what
they had hung him to the first tree they had come to.
The officer told her the Colonel was on parade and would not return for
two hours. Mrs. Mackey was a comely woman of superior intelligence and
soon interested the young officer in her sad condition. He expressed
for her the deepest sympathy and told her that her husband was near
by under guard; that he had been tried and sentenced to death, and
he feared there was no hope for him, as the evidence against him by
the Tories was of the most positive kind. He told her Col. Tarleton
was as cruel and unfeeling as he was brave, and that he would promise
her anything to get rid of her, but would fulfill nothing. "However"
said he, "I will prepare the necessary document for your husband's
release, filling in the blanks so that it will only be necessary to get
Col. Tarleton's signature, but I again frankly say that it is almost
hopeless."
At twelve o'clock Tarleton rode up, dismounted, and entered the
adjoining tent. As he passed along the young officer said, "You must
wait until he dines; another horse will be brought and when he comes up
to mount you can approach him, but not till then."
At the expected time the tall, handsome, clean-shaven Colonel came out
of his tent, and as he neared his charger, he was confronted by the
heroic Lydia Mackey, who in a few words made known the object of her
visit. He quickly replied that he was in a hurry and could not at that
time stop to consider her case. She said the case was urgent; that her
husband had been condemned to death and he alone had the power to save
him. He replied: "Very well, my good woman, when I return later in the
day I will inquire into the matter." Saying this he placed his foot in
the stirrup and sprang up, but before he could throw his right leg over
the saddle, Mrs. Mackey caught him by the coat and jerked him down. He
turned upon her with a scowl, as she implored him to grant her request.
He was greatly discomfited and angrily said he would inquire into the
case on his return. He then attempted again to mount, when she dragged
him down the second time, begging him in eloquent terms to spare the
life of her husband. "Tut, tut, my good woman," said he, boiling with
rage, "do you know what you are doing? be gone, I say I will attend to
this matter at my convenience and not sooner." So saying he attempted
the third time to mount, and so the third time Lydia Mackey jerked him
to the ground. Holding by the sword's scabbard, and falling on her
knees, she cried: "Draw your sword and slay me, or give me the life of
my husband, for I will never let you go until you kill me or sign this
document," which she drew from her bosom and held up before his face.
Tarleton, trembling with rage, turned to the young officer who stood
close by intently watching the scene, and said: "Captain, where is this
woman's husband?" He answered: "Under guard in yonder tent." "Order
him to be brought here," and soon Charlie Mackey stood before the
valiant Tarleton. "Sir" said he, "you have been convicted of bearing
arms against His Majesty's government; worse, you have been convicted
of being a spy. You have dared to enter my lines in disguise as a spy,
and you cannot deny it, but for the sake of your wife I will give you a
full pardon on condition that you will take an oath never again to bear
arms against the King's government."
"Sir," said Charlie Mackey, in the firmest tones, "I cannot accept
pardon on these terms. It must be unconditional or I must die," and
poor Lydia Mackey cried out, "I, too, must die." On her knees she plead
with such fervor and eloquence that Tarleton seemed lost for a moment
and hesitated; then turning to the young Captain he said with quivering
lips and a voice choking with emotion:
"Captain, for God's sake sign my name to this paper, and let this woman
go."
With this, Mrs. Mackey sank to the ground exhausted, and Col. Tarleton
rode off, doubtless happier for having spared the life of the heroic
Lydia's husband.
The history of the American Revolution can hardly present a more
interesting tableau than that of Lydia Mackey begging the life of
her husband at the hands of the brave and bloody Tarleton, and it is
probable that the "Lydia Mackey victory" was the first ever gained over
the heart of this redoubtable commander, and it is very certain that
Charles Mackey was the only condemned prisoner ever liberated by him
without taking the oath of allegience to the Mother Country.--MRS. F.
H. ORME, _Atlanta Chapter, D. A. R._
STATE FLOWERS.
In most instances, the state floral emblems have been adopted by the
vote of the pupils of the public schools of their respective states.
Alabama, goldenrod.
Arizona, suwarso.
Arkansas, apple blossoms.
California, California poppy.
Colorado, columbine.
Connecticut, mountain laurel.
Delaware, peach blossoms.
Florida, Japan camellia.
Georgia, Cherokee rose.
Idaho, syringa.
Illinois, rose.
Indiana, corn.
Iowa, wild rose.
Kansas, sunflower.
Louisiana, magnolia.
Maine, pine cone.
Michigan, apple blossom.
Minnesota, moccasin flower.
Mississippi, magnolia.
Missouri, goldenrod.
Montana, bitter-root.
Nebraska, goldenrod.
New Jersey, sugar maple.
Nevada, sage brush.
New York, moss rose.
New Mexico, crimson rambler rose.
North Carolina, chrysanthemum.
North Dakota, goldenrod.
Ohio, buckeye.
Oklahoma, mistletoe.
Oregon, Oregon grape.
Rhode Island, violet.
South Carolina, Carolina palmetto.
South Dakota, pasque flora.
Texas, blue bonnet.
Utah, sago lily.
Vermont, red clover.
Washington, rhododendron.
Wisconsin, violet.
THE COUNTIES OF GEORGIA.
BY KATHARINE B. MASSEY.
When I was a little girl, our fad was the possession of a charmstring.
This was a string of buttons, obtained by coaxing from our elders or
barter with each other, and constantly added to until some of them
reached the length of several yards. With delightful pride we told over
the list of our treasures. "This button," one would say, "came from
Cousin Mary's wedding dress; this my Uncle John gave me; this was sent
to me from China by my aunt who is a missionary in Canton; and this
bright brass one was on my father's uniform during the war." Much of
family life and many loving associations were thus strung together for
the little maiden. In some such way, but in a larger sense, our state
has used the naming of its counties as a cord of gold on which to hang
traditions of its past, memories of its heroes, and reverences for
those who helped us when help was needed.
A group of seven counties embalms the names of the Indian tribes
who owned our hills and valleys before us, who hunted the deer with
flintheaded arrows where now our cities stand, and threaded their
trails in silent forests where today our cotton fields are spread. They
are Catoosa, Chattahoochee, Chattooga, Cherokee, Coweta, Muscogee,
Oconee--how musically the syllables fall upon the ear. It is like a
chime of silver bells.
Four counties may be set together as commemorating large events in
history. Columbia, Oglethorpe, Liberty, and Union. The first of these
was named for the dauntless sailor who, possessed with the faith which
cared naught for all other men's unbelief and rising above poverty,
discouragement, and mutiny, held his way westward over unknown seas to
find his prophetic vision a reality. Oglethorpe bears the name of the
brave soldier, courteous gentleman, and broadminded philanthropist,
who founded a colony for oppressed debtors to give them a new chance
in life. Liberty County has a pretty little story of its own. A band
of Massachusetts Puritans, seeking a milder climate, settled first in
South Carolina, and not being fully satisfied, came on to St. John's
Parish, Georgia. Their distinguished devotion to the cause of liberty
in the perilous days of 1776-1783 gained for them that name when the
parishes were changed into counties. Union County was so named because
its citizens claimed to be known as Union men, when the rest of the
state stood for state rights.[1]
Another group of seven counties bears the name of English statesmen who
spoke for us in the halls of Parliament and withstood the tyranny of
king and nation in dealing with their brothers of America. They were
the fiery-tongued orator Edmund Burke, the commoners Glynn and Wilkes,
the Duke of Richmond, and the Earls of Chatham, Camden, and Effingham.
Three other foreigners, lovers of liberty, drew sword and fought in our
battles, side by side with our struggling heroes. Georgia has honored
herself by naming counties for Baron DeKalb, Count Pulaski, and General
LaFayette.
Next comes the long muster-call of heroes whose names are written on
the roll of fame as having fought for the freedom of their country--men
whose names recall Bunker Hill and Valley Forge, King's Mountain
and Guilford Court House, and all the grim experiences of a nation
struggling for existence. Georgia has named counties for Baker, Bryan,
Butts, Clarke, (Gen. Elijah, who fought the Tories in our own state),
Clinch, Early, Greene, (Gen. Nathaniel, who settled on his grant of
land in Georgia after the war,) Jasper, (the brave sergeant who leaped
over the parapet to rescue the flag at Fort Moultrie,) Laurens, Lee
(Light Horse Harry, father of the grand General of the Civil War,)
Lincoln, Macon, Marion (the Swamp Fox of South Carolina,) Meriwether,
Montgomery, Morgan, Newton, Putnam, Screven, Stewart, Sumter, Twiggs,
Taliaferro, Warren (killed at the battle of Bunker Hill,) Wayne (Mad
Anthony,) Wilkerson, Paulding, White, McIntosh--grand and glorious
names that break upon the ear like a trumpet call, inspiring to deeds
worthy to be ranked with theirs. The last of these names, McIntosh, was
given in honor of a whole family which had contributed many sons to
freedom's cause.
Seven presidents of the United States have given names to our counties.
They are Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Polk, Taylor and
Pierce.
The governors of Georgia have been a notable line, strong men of
iron will, believers in state's rights and upholders of the dignity
of the commonwealth. More than once they have withstood the national
government. The list of them includes some names famous for other
services to the state in the Revolution and the Civil War as well as in
the halls of Congress. Those for whom counties are named are: Bulloch,
Early, Elbert, Emanuel, Gilmer, Gwinnett, Habersham, Hall, Heard,
Houston, Irwin, Jackson (soldier and statesman,) Jenkins (who saved the
executive seal of state at the close of the Civil War and kept it until
military rule was over and it could be returned to a governor legally
elected by the people,) Johnson, Lumpkin, Mitchell, Rabun, Schley,
Stephens (giant soul in a frail body, whose unheeded counsels as
Vice-president of the Southern Confederacy might have prevented much of
the bitterness that followed,) Talbot, Telfair, Towns, Troup, Walton,
Forsyth, and Tattnall. Wisely and well they guided the ship of state
and left a priceless heritage of precedent to their successors.
Georgia has named fourteen counties for statesmen of national
fame--Calhoun, Clay, Webster--(these three made the great triumvirate
whose eloquence shook the land in times when nullification and
democracy were the questions of the day,) Bibb, Franklin, Brooks,
Carroll, Douglas, Hancock (one of the first to lift his voice against
British oppression in Massachusetts,) Henry (the immortal orator of
Virginia,) Lowndes, McDuffie, Murray, and Randolph (quaint, eloquent,
sarcastic John Randolph of Roanoke.)
Of her own sons whose voices have thundered in the halls of Congress,
or guided her councils at home, Georgia has named counties for Abraham
Baldwin (who first planned the state university,) Ben Hill (of the
trumpet tongue, who first dared to reply to northern slanders, to speak
the truth about Andersonville, to show that we had not food, clothing
and medicine for our own soldiers and that we did the best we could for
the unfortunate prisoners who fell into our hands; claiming the respect
of the nation and the world for the maligned Southern Confederacy.)
Berrien, Clayton, Cobb, Colquitt, Crawford, (William H., our candidate
for the presidency,) Crisp, Campbell, Charlton, Dawson, Dougherty,
Floyd, Haralson, Jones, Miller, Spanding, Turner, Walker, and Ware.
Six of our counties bear the names of men who spent their lives
fighting the Indians. They are Appling, Coffee, Butts, Wilcox, Thomas,
and Dade. Of the first of these the story is told that, in recognition
of his services, the state voted him a sword with an appropriate
inscription. Before it was ready for presentation the brave young
soldier died. As he left no heir, the sword was kept in the state
house at Milledgeville until that memorial autumn of 1864, when it
disappeared. Some soldier of Sherman's army thus became richer and the
State of Georgia poorer by a handsome sword.
The Mexican War left us the names of Echols, Fannin, Quitman, and
Worth. Other brave soldiers of the state who have been thus honored are
Glascock, Milton, Pickens, and Pike.
The Civil War gave to us the names of Bartow and Toombs. Francis C.
Bartow said: "I go to illustrate Georgia," and fell on the field of the
First Battle of Manassas. General Robert Toombs escaped from Georgia on
his mare, Grey Alice, when every road and ferry was guarded by soldiers
watching for him, made his way to England, and lived there until
it was safe for him to return, remaining to the end of his life an
"unreconstructed rebel."
Four counties, Dodge, Tift, Gordon, and Upson, are named for captains
of industry. The United States Navy gave us the name of Decatur. Banks
and Terrell are called for two beloved physicians who made their names
blessed in the homes of the people for the alleviation of pain and the
saving of life. In both cases the name was chosen for the county by the
citizens, in loving recognition of the physician's services.
The Lost Cause left with us the name of its one president, and we
who are glad that it is the Lost Cause, that slavery is no longer an
institution in our midst and that Georgia takes her rightful place in
the sisterhood of states, nevertheless claim the right to cherish our
memories, to welcome Dixie with the rebel yell, to cover our graves
with flowers on the twenty-sixth of April, to look back through a mist
of tears to Gettysburg and Appomattox, and to call one of our counties
Jeff Davis.
The noble preacher, Whitfield, who helped to establish the Bethesda
Orphan's Home, gave his name to one county; and Henry Grady,
silver-tongued and golden-hearted orator who helped to heal the
wounds of war and drew together the North and the South into renewed
brotherhood, is remembered in the name of another. Rockdale is so
called from its granite rocks and wooded dales. One is named for Robert
Fulton, the inventor, one for Harris, a prominent jurist, and last of
all, Georgia has named one county for a woman--red-headed, cross-eyed,
Tory-hating, liberty-loving Nancy Hart.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] But Georgia was at that time intensely Union, although believing in
State rights.
[Illustration: INDIAN TREATY TREE, MARIETTA, GA.]
AN HISTORIC TREE.
MRS. R. C. LITTLE, _Fielding Lewis Chapter_.
More than a hundred years ago, a tiny acorn, dropped by some frisky
squirrel or flitting bird, fell to the ground, where it lay unheeded
and unknown. Pelted by winter storms, it sank deep into the soft earth
where it was nourished and fed, sending out rootlets to take firm hold
of the kind mother who had sheltered it.
Soon the summer's sun called it from its underground bed and still
clinging with its thread-like roots, it pushed up a green head and
looked around the beautiful scenes of woodland, mountain and sky.
Pleased with what it saw, it lifted its head brighter and higher until
it became a mighty oak, a monarch of the forest. Birds and squirrels
made their homes in it and beneath its shade rested the weary.
All the country around belonged to and was inhabited by the Cherokee
Indians, of all known tribes the most civilized and enlightened. No
doubt their papooses swung on the branches of this magnificent tree and
played under its wide spreading arms.
With the coming of the white man, a town grew up--lovely Marietta,
still nestling amid the shadows of Kennesaw, and the Indians were asked
to leave their happy homes, and go to strange lands further West.
Bewildered and uncomprehending, they were unwilling to go, and groups
of them were often seen beneath this same mighty oak--mighty even then,
conferring with the whites, and discussing by signs and gestures,
the momentous question. When, finally, they were persuaded to accept
the proposition of the government, they met in council beneath their
favorite tree and signed the treaty, by which they agreed to leave
their beautiful North Georgia homes forever.
Within the memory of the oldest inhabitants, the grand oak became
historic. It is still standing, and has showed no signs of age, until
a fiery bolt found its lofty height and scathed it far down its trunk.
It stands in the yard of Mrs. H. G. Cole, and is, notwithstanding its
somewhat crippled condition, the admiration of all beholders. Its girth
near the ground is somewhat over eight feet, and seven feet from the
ground it measures considerably more than twelve feet around.
Mrs. Cole, though not aged herself, has seen four generations of her
own family disporting beneath this noble tree, and should it fall
because of age and decay, she and her children would miss and mourn it
as a dear lost friend.
INDEPENDENCE DAY.
Original poem by Mrs. C. M. O'Hara, Greenville, Ga., read on the Fourth
of July, 1912, at the meeting of David Meriwether Chapter:
It has been one hundred and thirty-six years
Since our forefathers laid aside all fears
Of the mother country, and boldly said:
The price of liberty in blood should be paid.
The Continental Congress in Philadelphia met
And resolved that we should independence get,
Thomas Jefferson wrote a long declaration,
Which England said was a sad desecration.
So our mother tried to exercise her right
To tax her children and forbidding the fight.
The battles of Lexington, Bunker Hill and others
Showed England that we were no longer brothers,
After the first gun of the revolution was heard
The Americans lost fear of King George the third;
They determined with Franklin together to stand
And hold fast at any cost the cherished land.
Over a century has passed, the patriots are dust,
In the homes of many daughters their good swords rust,
But the celebration of Independence on the Fourth of July
In the hearts of Americans we trust will never die.
KITTY.
ETHEL HILLYER HARRIS.
_Written for the Xavier Chapter of the D. A. R., Rome, Ga._
"Ah! woman in this world of ours,
What boon can be compared to thee?
How slow would drag life's weary hours,
Though man's proud brow were bound in flowers,
And his the wealth of land and sea,
If destined to exist alone
And, ne'er call woman's heart his own."
_--Morris._
PROLOGUE.
All day long there had been a vague unrest in the old colonial home,
all day the leaves had quivered on the banks of the Mataponi River; the
waves were restless, the dog in his kennel howled fitfully; the birds
and the chickens sought their roosts quiveringly, whimsically, and when
night had let her sable curtain down, a lurid glare shot athwart the
sky, in a strange curved comet-like shape. It was the Indian summer,
October in her glory of golden-rods, sumachs, and the asters in the
wood. But, hist! hark! what breaks upon the autumn stillness and the
quiet of the colonial household on the Mataponi, -- -- ?
It was the cannon at the siege of Yorktown, forty miles away. The
French fleet were making blazing half circles on the sky seen from
their fortifications even thus far below.
Through the long night the boom! boom! boom! continued, the simple,
loyal folks knowing nothing of the result.
At last, wearied and spent, with a prayer to the All Father to save
America, they sought their welcome couches. Among them was Kitty, the
idolized daughter of the family.
Soft! step easy! as we push aside the chintz curtains of her
four-poster and gaze upon the child, to exclaim: How innocent is
youth! Her seventeen years lie upon her pink cheeks, and shimmering
curly tresses as lightly as a humming bird in the heart of roses. Her
lithesome form makes a deep indenture in the thick featherbed, the gay
patchwork quilt half reveals, and half conceals the grace of rounded
arm and neck and breast, a sigh escapes her coral lips, one hand is
thrust beneath the pillow, she dreams!
On the chair her quilted podusouy and long stays are carelessly thrown.
Her Louis Seize slippers with red heels are on the floor, and the old
clock on the stair is ticking, ticking, ticking.
Kitty is dreaming. Of what? The greatest moment in our national
history. Dream on sweet maid, closer, closer point the hands; it nears
three o'clock Oct. 19, 1781. A wild cry, and the whole household is
awake.
Swift running to and fro,
Smiles, tears, shouts, "glory," "glory," "God be praised."
Such the sounds that faintly reach the dreaming senses of our Kitty.
And then her father with a kiss and hug pulls her out of bed with
"Awake lass! awake! awake! Cornwallis has surrendered."
In her night gown from her latticed window Kitty saw the courier
galloping through the little hamlet; pausing at her father's gate to
give the message of our conquest over the British, and then galloping
on towards the North, for he was on the direct route from Yorktown to
Philadelphia where Congress was in session.
By the time Kitty had pompadoured her hair, and donned her paviered
print gown, all the parish bells were ringing for joy. From Georgia to
Maine bells were sounding; peals of liberty and peace filled the air
with prayers and praise and service to God took up the glad hour and
over and over the refrain was sung "Cornwallis is taken! Cornwallis is
taken."
Ah, dear Kitty, and quaint little tableau of the long ago, five
generations coming and going, in whose veins beats your loyal blood
still listen and tremble and glow with pride at your legend of the
siege of Yorktown, and better still, sweetest of all the long agone
ancestors more than five nations, indeed every nation honors and makes
low obeisance to the stars and the stripes. "Old glory! long may she
wave o'er the land of the free and the home of the brave."
CHAPTER FIRST.
"Thinkest thou existence doth depend on time?
It doth; but actions are our epochs."
In 1784 or 85, Mr. Carlton, who had his home on the Mataponi River,
moved with his family to Georgia.
After Cornwallis had delivered his sword to Washington, a little group
of emigrants might have been seen at Yorktown; among them the families
of Edmund Byne and Robert Carlton.
Out in the blue harbour the nifty little brig "Nancy" lay, all sails
spread ready to embark to Savannah, Ga.
These two above named gentlemen, took passage with their families,
servants and household goods, and they were said to be persons of
sincere, and devoted piety, full of hope and courage. They expected to
reach Savannah in three days.
However, contrary winds set in, and the brig daring not hug the
treacherous coasts of the Carolinas sped far out to sea amid a terrific
storm. She drifted for weeks at the mercy of the waves, until the
passengers almost despaired of seeing land. If in our prologue, we saw
a pretty, and partly imaginary picture of Katherine Carlton, known as
Kitty, for she it is now eighteen years of age, we see her again and in
true historical facts receive her account of long ago, of the peril.
Thus reads her account: "One time it seemed as if the end had come.
'Twas night. The passengers were lying in their berths enduring as well
as they could the dangers of the hour, when suddenly the ship careened,
seemingly falling on its side. It was then the voice of one of those
pious men was heard amidst the howling winds 'Lord help us up,' and
straightway the ship was set upright and the danger was passed."
The little party after landing on our beautiful south Georgia coast,
sweet with golden jasmines, and long moss on the beautiful braided live
oak, proceeded up the country, in true emigrant fashion, in wagons.
Imagination, that merry, fantastic jade, will not let my pen be steady.
A thousand pictures obtrude. Kitty, her head so curly, eyes so dark and
soft, thrust from out the wagon's canvassed top, or again her snowy
fingers playing in the cool waters of a running brook, when the team
stops to feed and drink. Then Mr. Carlton, brave, resolute and the camp
fire, the smell of broiled bacon, the dog on trail of a rabbit, the
straw for seats, and weird firelight, and above all, the eternal stars
of heaven.
But we must hasten, though the chronicle, which is reliable, states
that it took five weeks to reach their destination in Burke County.
As they approached the Northern border of Wilkes County, the trees grew
taller, and the red oak, the white oak, burch, and maple, the crimson
honeysuckle, and wild violets and muscadine vines took the place of
yellow jasmine, and moss and whispering pines.
It was indeed a forest primeval, a virgin soil, and a new land. So on
the last day of their tiresome journey, early one morning, they came to
a creek. There was no bridge, and it was plain that the stream had to
be forded.
The wagons were moving slowly along. Katherine and her sister walking
in front. A discussion arose: "What about the girls? Here! come Kitty!"
or "Stop, Kitty! don't take off your slippers; you can't wade." About
that time up rode a gallant revolutionary soldier named Captain John
Freeman, who boldly said "I'll take Kitty" and in a trice he had the
fair young lady behind him on his own horse, and the limpid waters of
our clear Georgia stream were laying its flanks as he proceeded across
the stream.
CHAPTER SECOND.
"The wagons have all forded the brook as it flows, and then the rear
guard stays--
To pick the purple grapes that are hanging from the boughs."
--_Edward Everett Hale._
While our heroine is riding along in the dewy morn of the day, and at
the same time enjoying the beauties of nature and no doubt with her
lithe young body leaning against the Captain, causing his heart to beat
a double quick, we will go on with our narrative.
Captain John Freeman was a native Georgian, a Revolutionary soldier,
he was present at the siege of Charlestown and Savannah, a participant
in the battles of Cowpens, King's Mountain and Guilford Court House,
at the battle of Kettle Creek, and also at the capture of Augusta in
Georgia.
In most of his adventures in the Revolutionary war, Captain Freeman had
with him a colored boy named Ambrose, who lived to a very great age
and was well known to the younger generation as "Uncle Ambrose." He
had his own cabin in Athens, Georgia. Incidents in regard to him were
handed by tradition. He had on his left arm the scar of a sabre cut,
made by British dragoons when General Tarleton's men were attacking
and endeavoring to get away with the American trooper's horses that
had been left at the camp, and which it was in part, the duty of the
boy Ambrose to keep. The British dragoons had possession of the horses
for awhile and Ambrose a prisoner also, but by a rapid retaliation the
horses and servants were recovered. Old Ambrose used to tell about
having been present at the siege of Savannah, when Count Pulaski, one
of the American Generals, was killed. He said that he was back in the
edge of the pine, or timber when the American army charged on the
British fort and breastworks. He described Pulaski as mounted on a
spirited horse, with a great white plume in his hat, and how gallantly
he led the Americans in their advance. He saw Pulaski when he fell from
the horse, and was present at the point to which he was brought back,
mortally wounded.
CHAPTER THIRD.
"Blessed with that charmed certainty to please
How oft her eyes read his;
Her gentle mind, to his thoughts, his wishes, inclined."
ANONYMOUS.
As might be guessed, in a few short months after crossing the creek
together on horse-back, Captain John Freeman led Kathrine Carlton to
the altar.
In regard to her after-life, she was a wonder for those times, a great
reader and a fine housekeeper, a fine raconteur; yet with all, the soul
of hospitality. She had a healthy, strong mind; was imperious in her
bearing, a devoted member of the church, a power in her family, and
section.
Captain Freeman was a wealthy man, and took her at times in a carriage
to the Mountains of North Carolina on a pleasure trip.
She bore him one child, Rebecca, of a temperamental nature, and of deep
piety like her mother. This child was the author of many lovely poems.
Captain Freeman did not live to be very old. After his death Mrs.
Freeman met losses which she bravely bore, Rebecca married Shaler
Hillyer and from this union sprang all the Georgia Hillyers. And to
this day "Grandma Freeman" is almost a sainted word in the family, so
strong was her character and so deep her love for others. She lived to
be eighty-nine years old. In her bedroom was an old time tall clock
that Captain Freeman had brought over from England when he brought his
blue china dishes. As she drew her last breath, a beloved niece looked
at the clock but it had stopped. That clock is still owned by one of
her descendants, and it is not a legend but a fact, that when anything
important happens, in the family, if it is running, it stops, if it is
not running, it strikes.
But to return to the Bynes: to show that we are journeying on to meet
those who are journeying on to meet us.
Mr. Bynes' daughter Annie, she who came in the brig "Nancy" with Mr.
Carlton, married a Mr. Harris, their daughter married Mr. Hansell, and
his granddaughter, the beautiful golden haired Leila, a noted belle and
beauty, of Atlanta, Georgia, married a Mr. Llewelynn P. Hillyer, of
Macon, Georgia, the great grandson of Kitty Carlton.
If the writer may be pardoned for saying so, she is the granddaughter
of Junius Hillyer, the grandson of Kitty Carlton; and she also pleads
guilty to the soft impeachment of having married Hamilton Harris, a
relative of the Byne family, too.
Two shall be born the whole wide apart and time and tide will finally
bring them together. Affinity, congeniality, fate! What?
Hurrah for the brave little sailing vessel, the nifty, white winged
brig, "The Nancy."
BATTLE OF KETTLE CREEK.
No battle of Revolutionary times was more instrumental in making the
surrender of Cornwallis, at Yorktown, possible than was the battle of
Kettle Creek. As it was at that period of the war the only American
victory in the far South, and though it seemed unimportant, it was a
prominent factor in holding the militia together and stimulating, them
to fight to ultimate victory.
After the battle of Monmouth, the largest engagement in the North
closed, the scene drifted to the South. Georgia was practically subdued
by the British in January, 1779. General Provost, commanding the
British in South Carolina, and Commodore Parker and Lieut. Campbell, on
the sea, had captured Savannah and being so encouraged, made plans to
aid the Tories in crushing all patriots who dared to resist.
On February 14th, 1779, at War Hill, Wilkes County, Georgia, the battle
of Kettle Creek was fought. Between four hundred and five hundred
Americans were in this engagement under Col. Pickens, against seven
hundred men under Col. Boyd, a British officer, who was secretly
employed by the British to organize a band of Tories in South Carolina
and who was on his way to join the British Army and had planned to take
Augusta on his route.
Col. Boyd was mortally wounded in this battle. As soon as Col. Pickens
heard of it he immediately visited his opponent and offered him any
assistance within his power. The dying man left with him keepsakes and
letters which were promptly delivered to his wife after his death.
In Vol. II, Wm. Bacon Stevens' History of Georgia, New York, 1847,
Bishop Stevens gives the following account of this battle:
"The enemy having effected a passage into Georgia, Pickens and
Dooly, now joined by Col. Clarke, resolved to follow; and they
accordingly crossed the Savannah on February 12, 1779, and camped
the following night within four miles of the enemy. Forming the
line of march in the order of battle, the Americans now prepared
once more, at a great disadvantage of numbers, to contest with the
Tories for the supremacy of upper Georgia. Much depended on this
battle. If Boyd should be successful in driving back the Americans
under such men as Pickens and Dooly and Clarke, he might rest
assured that no further molestation, at least for a very long time,
would follow, and all would yield to the British power, while on
the other hand should the Americans be successful, it would not
only crush the Tory power, already so galling to the people, but
protect them from further insult, and give a stimulus to American
courage, which a long series of disasters made essential. It was a
moment big with the fate of upper Georgia.
"Boyd, with a carelesness evincing great lack of military skill and
prudence, had halted on the morning of the 14th of February, 1779,
at a farm house near Kettle Creek, in Wilkes County, having no
suspicion of the near approach of the Americans, and his army was
dispersed in various directions, some killing and gathering stock,
others engaged in cooking and in different operations. Having
reconnoitered the enemy's position, the Americans, under Pickens,
advanced in three divisions; the right under Col. Dooly, the left
under Col. Clarke and the center led by the Commander himself, with
orders not to fire a gun until within at least thirty paces. As
the center, led by Pickens, marched to the attack, Boyd met them
at the head of a select party, his line being protected by a fence
filled with fallen timber, which gave him a great advantage over
the troops in front. Observing this half formed abatis, Pickens
filed off to a rising ground on his right, and thence gaining the
flank of Boyd rushed upon him with great bravery, the enemy fleeing
when they saw their leader shot down before them. He was sustained
in this charge by Dooly and Clarke, and the enemy after fighting
with great bravery, retired across the creek, but were rallied by
Major Spurgen on a hill beyond, where the battle was again renewed
with fierceness. But Col. Clarke, with about fifty Georgians,
having discovered a path leading to a ford, pushed through it,
though in doing so he encountered a severe fire and had his horse
shot down under him, and by a circuitous route rose upon the hill
in the rear of Spurgen, opening a deadly fire. The enemy hemmed in
on both sides, fled, and were hotly pursued by the victors, until
the conquest was complete. For an hour and a half, under great
disadvantage and against a force almost double, had the Americans
maintained the now unequal contest, and though once or twice it
seemed as if they must give way, especially when the Tories had
gained the hill and were reinforced under Spurgen; yet the masterly
stroke of Clarke, with his few brave Georgians, turned the scale,
and victory, bloody indeed, but complete, was ours."
THE DARING EXPLOIT OF GRACE AND RACHAEL MARTIN.
At the beginning of the War of the American Revolution, Abram and
Elizabeth Martin were living in Ninety Six District, now Edgefield
County, South Carolina, with their nine children. Seven of their eight
sons were old enough to enter the army, and were noted for their
gallantry and patriotic zeal. The wives of the two eldest sons, Grace
Waring and Rachael Clay, during the absence of their husbands, remained
with their mother-in-law.
One evening the news reached them that a courier bearing important
despatches was to pass that night along the road guarded by two British
officers. Grace and Rachael determined to waylay the party and obtain
possession of the papers. Disguised in their husbands' clothes, and
well provided with arms, they hid in the bushes at a point on the road
where the escort must pass. Darkness favored their plans and when
the courier and his guards approached they were completely taken by
surprise by the suddenness of the attack. They had no choice but to
surrender. The young women took their papers, released the soldiers on
parole, and hastened home to send the important documents to General
Greene by a trusty messenger.
The paroled officers returned by the road they had come and stopping
at the home of the Martins, asked accommodations for the night. The
hostess asked the reason for their prompt return. They replied by
showing their paroles, and saying they had been taken prisoners by two
Rebel lads. The ladies rallied them on their lack of courage and asked
if they were unarmed. They said they were armed but were suddenly taken
off their guard.
They went on their way the next morning without a suspicion that
they owed their capture to the women whose hospitality they had
claimed.--_Grace L. Martin, Piedmont Continental Chapter, D. A. R._
A REVOLUTIONARY PUZZLE.
These old rhymes were written in the early part of the Revolutionary
War--about 1776. If read as written they are a trib
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/46400