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Title: Revolutionary Reader - Reminiscences and Indian Legends
Author: Foster, Sophie Lee
Language: English
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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 tribute to the king
and his army, but if read downward on either side of the comma,
they indicate an unmistakable spirit of rebellion to both king and
parliament. The author is unknown:
Hark, hark, the trumpet sounds, the din of war's alarms
O'er seas and solid grounds, doth call us all to arms
Who for King George doth stand, their honors shall soon shine
Their ruin is at hand, who with the congress join.
The acts of parliament, in them I might delight,
I hate their cursed intent, who for the congress fight
The Tories of the day, they are my daily toast,
They soon will sneak away, who independence boast,
Who nonresistant hold, they have my hand and heart
May they for slaves be sold, who act the Whiggish part,
On Mansfield, North and Bute, may daily blessings pour,
Confusion and dispute, on congress evermore;
To North and British Lord, may honors still be done,
I wish to block and cord, to General Washington.
SOUTH CAROLINA IN THE REVOLUTION.
(Prize essay written by Miss Leota George of Sandy Springs in
competition for the medal offered by Cateechee Chapter, D. A. R., to
English class in Anderson College, S. C.)
South Carolina had a large share in winning American independence.
Several decisive battles were fought on her soil. For the struggle she
furnished far-sighted statesmen, brilliant leaders for the battlefield,
and troops of patriotic, devoted men. Her daughters brought to the
conflict immeasurable aid, comfort and influence. The men of South
Carolina saved their own state and were able to give invaluable aid to
their countrymen in other sections.
South Carolina had been settled by the Huguenots, English,
Scotch-Irish, Welsh and Germans--people from the sturdiest and most
progressive countries of the world. Their experiences in their new
environment tended to make them independent and self-reliant. Their
years of hardships and strifes only served to make them more vigorous.
They increased rapidly in population and built up an active trade.
South Carolina became one of the most prosperous of the colonies. The
colonists of the lower country were people of learning and culture. The
settlers of the middle and upper country were energetic, patriotic,
and noble. There was no aristocracy. There were quite a number of able
clergymen, skilled physicians, and well trained lawyers among the
South Carolinians. They had wealth without luxury. They suffered no
religious restraint. Every circumstance helped to develop them into a
distinctive, independent people.
The injustice and selfishness of British authority at once aroused
the anger of these spirited settlers. The Stamp Act met with general
opposition. South Carolina at once protested against this unjust law
and would not allow the stamps to be sold. After the repeal of the
Stamp Act Great Britain made a second attempt to obtain money from the
colonists by placing a tax upon glass, wine, oil, paper, painter's
colors and tea. The vigorous objections of the colonists caused her to
withdraw the tax from everything except tea. But the colonists were
unwilling to accept anything but full justice from the hands of Great
Britain.
The South Carolinians had many determined and active leaders in their
opposition to British tyranny and in the avowal of their rights to
govern themselves. Christopher Gadsen, William Henry Drayton, Arthur
Middleton and David Ramsay impressed upon the people the necessity
of fighting for their liberty and urged them to prepare for a war
with England. Christopher Gadsen, Thomas Lynch, John Rutledge, Arthur
Middleton and Edward Rutledge were chosen by the South Carolinians
to represent them at the first continental congress at Philadelphia
in 1774. These men had had a prominent part in that meeting. The
broad-minded, far-sighted Christopher Gadsen was the first man to see
that independence must eventually come. At this meeting he was the
first to suggest absolute independence. William Henry Drayton concluded
one of his speeches in South Carolina with this excellent advice: "Let
us offer ourselves to be used as instruments of God in this work in
order that South Carolina may become a great, a free, a pious and a
happy people."
On March 26, 1776, the provincial congress adopted a new Constitution
and South Carolina became a free and independent state. She was the
first of the thirteen colonies to set up a government of her own. John
Rutledge was made president and Henry vice-president.
The first battle of the Revolution was fought November 12, 1775,
when two British war vessels made an unsuccessful attack on a South
Carolina vessel. The British suffered their first complete defeat in
America at Charles Town, June 28, 1776. Under Sir Peter Parker the
enemy attacked Ft. Moultrie. Under the blue Carolina flag with its
crescent and the word "Liberty," upon it, the patriots, with Col.
Moultrie as leader, courageously resisted the attack. In this battle
the immortal Jasper braved the enemy's fire in rescuing the fallen flag
and replacing it upon the fort. The splendid victory at Ft. Moultrie
gave more confidence to the colonists and inspired them with new zeal.
The colonists under William Thompson defeated the British in a second
attempt to take Charles Town in June, 1776.
For about two years following this battle the British army abandoned
their attempt to conquer South Carolina. However, she was far from
being peaceful during this period. Her settlers were not a homogeneous
people. No bond of sympathy united them in fighting for a common cause.
Bands of Tories had formed in the interior and were as difficult to
overcome as the British themselves. Under Fletchall and Cunningham they
committed many bloody outrages and did an incalculable amount of harm.
They stirred up strife among the Indians and acquired their aid in
fighting the patriots. Some of the severest struggles of the Revolution
took place between the opposing factions in South Carolina. Andrew
Williamson, James Williams and Andrew Pickens were active in defending
the upland country against the Tories and Indians.
In April and May of 1780 the British under Gen. Clinton again attacked
Charles Town. For three months four thousand ill-fed, ill-clad, and
undisciplined patriots withstood the attacks of twelve thousand of the
best of the British troops. Finally, the South Carolinians were forced
to surrender. Fast following this defeat came pillage, devastations
and repeated disasters. In the upper country the British under cruel
Tarleton followed up their victories with bloody outrages. Clinton
left Cornwallis in command of the British forces in the south. The
cruelties of this officer greatly aroused the anger of the Carolinians.
Sumter, Marion and Pickens suddenly appeared upon the scene of
battle. They rallied the scattered forces and began their peculiar
mode of warfare. By means of the ingenuity and indomitable courage of
Sumter, the spirited "Game Cock," the enemy was harassed and numerous
little victories were won from them. These successes were a great
encouragement to the Carolinians. Sumter, aided by patriot bands under
John Thomas, Thomas Brandon and Edward Hampton, succeeded in driving
the British out of northern Carolina.
About this time, Gates and DeKalb were sent to the relief of the
South. On account of the poor generalship of Gates the Americans were
defeated at Camden, August 16, 1780, by the enemy under the command
of Cornwallis. Francis Marion, the elusive "Swamp Fox," made repeated
attacks upon the British forces and with the help of Sumter, Harden
and McDonald, again gained control of the upper country. On October 7,
1780, Sumter's men led by Lacey, Williams, and Hill helped to win a
battle from the enemy under Ferguson at Kings Mountain.
In January, 1781, Gen. Daniel Morgan of Virginia, aided by Andrew
Pickens with his body of riflemen, won a complete victory over the
British at Cowpens. Gen. Greene had brought some troops into South
Carolina. The combined forces of Sumter, Pickens, Marion, Lee and
Greene gradually drove the British into Charles Town. Charles Town was
evacuated December 14, 1782.
South Carolina's activities were not confined to her own borders.
On several occasions she had sent troops to Georgia to help defend
this feeble colony. The South Carolinians had captured a supply of
powder in the early part of the war and sent it north to Washington
at the critical point where his supply had given out. It was a South
Carolinian who had secured aid from France for the patriots. This
was exceedingly important since the French army and fleet played an
important part in the capture of Cornwallis at Yorktown.
In the great fight for independence South Carolina did her share
of the fighting and more than this. Besides furnishing brilliant
leaders and brave soldiers for the battlefield, she produced eloquent
orators and wise statesmen to help manage the affairs of the colonists
during this trying period. Among the foremost of her statesmen was
Henry Laurens. In 1777 he succeeded John Hancock as president of the
continental congress. He proved himself an efficient and wise officer.
On his way to seek aid from the Dutch he was captured by the British
and imprisoned in the Tower of London. At the close of the war he was
exchanged for Cornwallis. He then went to Paris, where he was one of
the commissioners who signed the treaty of peace between Great Britain
and the United States.
John Laurens, a son of Henry Laurens, was also prominent in the
management of the civil affairs of the colonists. It was he who secured
aid from France. Never has anyone been sent from America to Europe on
so important mission. By his tact and unusual abilities he succeeded
in the task in which Franklin had failed.
Christopher Gadsen, Arthur Middleton, William Henry Drayton, and David
Ramsey were the great orators of South Carolina during the Revolution
period. At the beginning of the war they accomplished much by inspiring
their fellow-countrymen with patriotism and courage.
John Rutledge, Charles Cotesworth Pinckney and Thomas Pinckney had much
to do with managing the affairs of the province during the war. The
distinguished generals, Sumter, Pickens, Marion and Hampton rendered
valuable service as statesmen--services which are apt to be overlooked
on account of these men being such efficient partisan officers. The
men who signed the Declaration of Independence for South Carolina were
Thomas Heyward, Thomas Lynch, Arthur Middleton and Edward Rutledge.
South Carolina's women were as loyal, devoted, and heroic as her men.
They supplied the soldiers with many comforts by knitting and weaving
garments for them. In some instances they took an active part in the
struggle. Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Dillard made perilous rides to warn
the patriots of impending attacks of the enemy. We will long remember
the patriotic spirit and self-sacrifice exhibited by Mrs. Motte when
she showed the Americans how to set fire to her own house in which
the British were fortified. Mrs. Bratton nursed some wounded British
soldiers who had threatened to kill her the day before. Our state has
sufficient cause to be proud of her noble women of the Revolution.
The difficulties under which South Carolina labored throughout the
long struggle only add to her glory and honor. Next to Georgia she was
the feeblest of the colonies. At the beginning of the war she had only
ten thousand available men. There were heavy drains upon her limited
resources. Much of the ammunition used during the war was captured
from the British. Reaping hooks and mowing scythes were used for
weapons when the supply of guns was inadequate. Saws were taken from
sawmills to be made into swords. Lead was removed from the housetops
and churches to be run into bullets. The soldiers had not half enough
tents, camp kettles, and canteens. Clothes, food and medicines were
often lacking. Added to all this were the strifes created by the
insurgent Royalists and Indians. When we view the remarkable successes
of the South Carolinians in the light of all these conditions, we can
but agree with the great historian Bancroft in his opinion that "the
sons of South Carolina suffered more, dared more and achieved more than
the men of any other state."
LYMAN HALL.
Lyman Hall, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, was
born in Wallingford, Conn., April 12, 1724. He was the son of Hon.
John Hall and Mary Street. In 1747 Lyman Hall was graduated from Yale
College in a class of twenty-eight members. He then studied Theology.
In the twenty-eighth year of his age he moved to Dorchester, S. C., and
for many years ministered to the needs of those sturdy people.
Many of these settlers removed to Liberty County, Georgia. Along with
the second stream of immigration came Lyman Hall.
When the storm of the Revolution began to lower, Dr. Hall promptly
took sides with the patriots and to them he was a tower of strength.
Dr. Hall was chairman of the meeting at Midway, February 9th, 1775,
which sent delegates to the meeting at Charleston. He was elected to
represent the people of St. John's Parish in the Continental Congress,
March 21, 1775.
When the Declaration of Independence was signed, Lyman Hall, Button
Gwinnett and George Walton, in behalf of the inhabitants of Georgia,
affixed their names to the famous document.
When the British troops overran Georgia, the property of those who
had espoused the patriot cause was confiscated and destroyed, and
Dr. Hall's residence at Sunbury and his plantation near Midway were
despoiled. With his family he removed to the North where he resided
till 1782, when he returned to Georgia and settled in Savannah.
In 1783 Dr. Hall was elected Governor of Georgia and his administration
was one of the most important in the history of the State. After the
expiration of his term of office as Governor, he returned to Savannah
and again took up the practice of medicine. He removed to Burke County
in 1790 and settled upon a fine plantation near Shell Bluff. Here he
died, October 19, 1790, at the age of sixty-seven, and was buried in a
brick vault on a bold bluff overlooking the river.
In 1848 his remains were removed to Augusta and placed with those of
George Walton beneath the monument erected by patriotic citizens in
front of the Court House.
In person, Dr. Hall was six feet tall and finely proportioned. He was
a man of great courage and discretion, and withal gentle and easy in
manner.
He was fitted to guide the ship of State in the storm of the
Revolution, and though he never bore arms, or won distinction as an
orator, the people felt safe with his hand at the helm. The State of
Georgia has fittingly perpetuated his memory by naming one of its
counties for him, and, so long as liberty and patriotism shall live, so
long shall the name of Lyman Hall be remembered.--_Compiled from "Men
of Mark of Georgia."_
A ROMANCE OF REVOLUTIONARY TIMES.
About 1768, the only son of Sir John Stirling, of Scotland, was sent
to one of the West India Islands to look after some property. If he
needed money he was to write home for it, putting a private mark on his
letters. A serious illness caused him to forget the private mark, so no
attention was paid to his letters with request for money. So he found
himself stranded among strangers without money and without health.
A kindly sea captain, whom he met, offered to take him in his vessel
to Connecticut without money. He gladly accepted the offer and sailed
for a more healthful climate. Shortly after he left the West Indies,
letters were received there from his father inquiring for him. The
answer was sent to the father that his son had been very ill, and as
he had disappeared they supposed he was dead. In the meantime young
Stirling had gone to Stratford, Connecticut, where he taught school as
a means of support. He soon fell in love with one of his pupils, pretty
Glorianna Folsom, the beauty and belle of the village. Her father
was a prosperous farmer. They were married in 1772. After the birth
of their first child, a young minister, who was going to Scotland to
be ordained, offered to hunt up his family if he would give him the
necessary proofs of his identity. He did so, though reluctantly and
hopelessly. The minister sailed for Scotland and soon found the family
who were in deep mourning for the son they had supposed dead. They were
overjoyed to hear he was alive, and at once wrote him to come home by
the first vessel, not waiting for his wife and child to get ready; that
they would send for them later. He did so, and his sudden departure
caused the gossips to decide that Glorianna and her little daughters
(for the second one was born after he left) had been deserted. It may
have seemed a long period, but after he had had time to prepare a home
for her and a quantity of beautiful clothing, he sent a ship to New
York for her and she was requested to embark immediately. She found
everything provided for her comfort and convenience and a servant
to wait on her. They lived near Stirling Castle and afterwards in
Edinborough and young Stirling succeeded to the honors and estates of
the Baronet in due time.
Glorianna was a woman of remarkable character as well as beauty,
and was the mother of eighteen children.--_Grace Martin, Piedmont
Continental Chapter, D. A. R._
"FT. MOTTE."
"As unto the bow the cord is,
So unto the man is woman,
Tho' she bends him she obeys him,
Tho' she draws him, yet she follows,
Useless each without the other."
We have in our county of Orangeburg an historic spot which rightly in
name is a monument to the self-sacrifice and heroism of Mrs. Rebecca
Motte, the wife of Col. Isaac Motte.
This family had moved from Charleston to St. Matthew's Parish and owned
a beautiful plantation home on the Congaree river, about where the
present town of Fort Motte stands.
As Nathaniel Greene, aided by the partisan leaders, drove the British
from post to post back into Charleston, the British fortified Motte's,
the chief part of the post being Mrs. Rebecca Motte's home. The family
had been driven out by the British and were living in the neighborhood.
Lee's and Marion's men built a mound of earth, which is still to be
seen, from which the riflemen could command the inside of the fort, but
the house protected the enemy still. It was found necessary to burn it.
They informed Mrs. Motte that they would probably have to burn her
home, which stood in the center of the fort; she begged them that
they would not consider her house of any consequence in the general
cause and with great patriotism and firmness presented them with a bow
and quiver of arrows and showing them how to set fire to the house,
requested that they should burn it quickly.
By this means the Whigs threw fire on the roof, compelling the garrison
commanded by Lieutenant McPherson to surrender or be roasted. Mrs.
Motte was extremely rejoiced when she saw the garrison surrender.
Lee's and Marion's men extinguished the flames and the house was
afterwards rebuilt.
Some authorities say that the bow and arrows were a present sent Mrs.
Motte from India, others that they were borrowed of a negro boy.
However this may be the mound of earth is all that is now visible as a
reminder of Mrs. Motte's sacrifice.
The place where the house stood is at present a cotton field and owned
by Mrs. A. T. Darby.
Time, the eradicator, will eventually wipe out the mound and all that
will commemorate this brave deed will be the name, "Fort Motte," on the
written page.--MRS. BESSIE GOGGANS OWEN, Vice-Regent Moultrie Chapter,
_in American Monthly_.
PETER STROZIER.
About the year 1748, Peter Strozier, the hero of our story, was born in
Germany. We know nothing of his childhood or early life, but in manhood
we know him as our worthy ancestor and find him bravely fighting for
American independence. He was married to Margaret Dozier in his native
land and he, with four brothers, came to America about the time of the
out-break of the Revolutionary War and settled in Virginia.
To the call of the country that he had come to share its reverses as
well as its prosperity, and in the spirit of liberty he was ready
to draw the sword when the iron heel of oppression was set upon its
cherished rights.
During the seven years of faithful service he gave to his country, his
wife and five children were left alone in a country home, where their
lives were in constant danger. But God, in His all wise providence
had sent into their home an orphan boy who was left to care, as best
he could, for the family. This orphan boy, whose name was Captain
Paddy Carr, was reared by our worthy ancestor, and during his life
his gratitude never waned for his benefactor and benefactress. In
the meantime Captain Carr moved the family to Georgia but found the
condition of affairs even worse than in Virginia. The Tories at this
time held full sway in Georgia and in no other state were they so
wicked and cruel. The people were divided into two parties, the Tories
and the Patriots. The Tories were those who took the oath of allegience
to the King, and those who refused to take the oath and would rather
suffer and fight for American Independence, were called Patriots. So
the Tories and Patriots hated each other with a bitter hatred. While
these Patriots, brave and liberty loving men, were fighting for their
independence, the Tories were left unmolested in their homes. The
Patriots were forced to leave their property and helpless families to
the mercy of the British and Tories. The Tories were far worse than
the British. They formed themselves into companies, roving over the
country, committing all kinds of outrages; robbing and burning houses,
throwing old grayheaded fathers and grandfathers into prison and
driving helpless wives and children from their homes, showing mercy to
no one who favored the American cause.
One venerable great grandmother, Margaret Strozier, fell a victim
to a band of these Tories, who robbed and burned her home and drove
her away. She walked with five children to South Carolina. When the
young Patriot, Captain Carr, heard of the robbery and burning, his
fiery blood boiled in his veins and he swore vengeance on all Tories.
Henceforth he lost no opportunity to avenge the wrong done to the woman
who was the only mother God had given him, and to children who were his
only brothers and sisters. Tradition tells us that at the point of his
own gun, he captured at one time five Tories and held them until his
Company came up, and to them he showed no mercy.
Having gone through the Revolutionary War, which closed in 1782, Peter
Strozier, with his family, settled in Wilkes County, Georgia. Tradition
also tells us that he was a man of noble traits, with great force and
dignity of character. His last days were passed under a silver-lined
cloud, and in the old county of Wilkes he lies buried today. After his
death, his wife, Margaret Dozier Strozier, who had shared with him the
sufferings and hardships of the cruel war, moved to Meriwether County,
Georgia, with her son Reuben Strozier, and she lies buried in the old
family graveyard about four miles west of Greenville, Georgia, near the
old Strozier homestead.
We can say by tradition, from generation to generation, that there
sleep today no truer, no purer, no nobler ones than Peter and Margaret
Strozier. How we love and cherish the memory of our fore-fathers! So
will generations, after generations, and may we never tire in our
efforts to preserve the records of the lives and struggles of those who
fought and bled and died for our freedom.--NANNIE STROZIER THRASH.
INDEPENDENCE DAY.
Oh, happy Independence Day,
We love thy honored name,
Dear happy Independence Day
Is with us once again.
Over a hundred years ago,
This day first won its fame,
And tho' the long years come and go,
'Tis remembered just the same.
We are a band of people true,
We love our native home,
Its environments, its skies of blue,
From it we'll never roam.
Let us forget the soldiers never,
Who battle to be free,
Who fought King George's army,
From far across the sea.
They left their dear beloved home
To chase the cruel foe,
O'er deserted battle fields to roam
Midst suffering, pain and woe.
Those soldiers now are sleeping
To chase the cruel foe,
O'er deserted battle fields to roam
Midst suffering pain and woe.
Those soldiers now are sleeping
On plain, and hill, and shore,
Their titles we are keeping,
But they'll be here no more.
When wars wild note was sounded
When the cry for freedom came,
England's hosts had landed
To win her glorious fame.
Alas, the British finally knew
They could no longer stay,
They left our brave and daring few
And quickly sailed away.
Alas, those dreadful days are gone,
No one remains to tell,
Of struggles made, and burdens bore,
For the land we love so well.
We love the mother country yet,
Her name we still adore,
Her kindness we can ne'r forget,
But we'll be bound no more.
Oh, happy Independence Day
How dear to us the name!
Oh, happy Independence Day
Is with us once again.
--_By Mamie Crosby._
SARAH GILLIAM WILLIAMSON.
The most remarkable woman who lived in Georgia during the Revolutionary
War, perhaps, was Sarah Gilliam Williamson. Considering her loyalty
to the cause of the colonies, her courage in managing the plantation
and large number of negro slaves during the absence of her husband in
the army, her sufferings at the hands of the enemy, together with the
success of her descendants, she stands ahead of any of the Georgia
women of her day.
Sarah Gilliam was born in Virginia about the year 1735. Her father
was William Gilliam, and her mother Mary Jarrett, the sister of Rev.
Devereau Jarrett, the distinguished Episcopal minister.
Sarah Gilliam married Micajah Williamson, a young man of Scotch-Irish
parentage. In 1768 the young couple moved to Wilkes County, Georgia,
and settled on a fine body of land. It was while living here in
peace and abundance, with their growing family around them, that the
difference between the mother country and the colonies began.
Sarah Williamson and her husband both warmly espoused the cause of
the colonies, and when hostilities commenced a Georgia regiment took
the field with Elijah Clarke as Colonel, and Micajah Williamson as
Lieutenant-Colonel. Micajah Williamson was present in all the conflicts
of this regiment and in the battle of Kettle Creek Col. Clarke gave him
full credit for his part in winning the victory.
Many scenes of this nature were enacted in the neighborhood of Sarah
Williamson's home, and this fearless woman not only witnessed the
conflicts, but sometimes participated in them. Her husband was twice
wounded and to him she gave the care of a devoted wife, nursing him
back to health and to the service of his country.
Year after year during this long struggle Sarah Williamson bravely
assumed the part of both the man and the woman. Under her excellent
management the plantation was cultivated, supplies were furnished the
army, and spinning wheels were kept busy making clothes for husband,
children and slaves. Thus she toiled in the face of ever-present
danger, threatened always with hostile Indians, cruel Tories and
British soldiers.
Finally, one day the dreaded Tories, incensed at her husband's activity
in the cause of the colonies, made a raid on the home and after taking
all they wanted, destroyed by fire every building on the plantation,
and their fiendish hearts not being yet satisfied with the suffering of
this loyal woman, they hung her eldest son, a handsome youth, in the
presence of his mother.
Her courage undaunted by this great calamity, Sarah Williamson had the
faithful slaves gather up the remaining live stock running at large
in the woods, and with her entire household went as a refugee to the
mountains of North Carolina, where they remained until the close of the
war, when they returned to the plantation.
A few years later the family moved to Washington, Georgia. Here again
it became necessary for her to manage for the family when her husband
was commissioned Major-General of Georgia troops and led an army
against the hostile Cherokee Indians. Peace was made, however, before a
battle was fought.
Now Sarah Williamson began to reap the reward her love, sacrifice,
energy and labor had won. Her five sons grew to be successful men, her
six daughters to be refined, educated and beautiful women, who became
the wives of prominent men. One daughter married John Clarke who became
Governor of Georgia.
To this Georgia mother belongs the distinguished honor of being the
first American woman to furnish from her descendants two Justices of
the Supreme Court of the United States; Justice John A. Campbell of
Alabama was her grandson, and Justice L. Q. C. Lamar of Georgia and
Mississippi was her great grandson.--RUBY FELDER RAY, _State Historian,
D. A. R._
A COLONIAL HIDING PLACE.
In sailing up the Hudson River, about one hundred miles above New York,
you will discover on the west side a rather broad estuary, named by the
old Dutch settlers, the Katterskill Creek.
This creek flows through a cleft in the mountains, known in the quaint
language of the Dutch as the Katterskill Clove.
This clove, nature's pass through the mountains, was well known,
and used by the tribes of the Six Nations, and especially by the
vindictive, and blood thirsty Mohawks, as an easy trail by which they
would descend upon the peace-loving and thrifty Dutch settlers; kill
all the men who had not fled for refuge to the strong stone houses
which were specially built for defence; capture the women and children,
and kill all the live stock.
On the peninsula between the river and the creek, the latter being wide
and deep enough to float the magnificent steamers which ply between
Albany and New York, stood the colonial mansion to which your attention
is called.
This mansion, for it was a splendid structure for those days, and the
term would not be a misnomer in these, was built in 1763 by a Madam
Dies, a Dutch matron, who afterwards married an English army officer.
This man was so infatuated with his Dutch "vrow," and her wealth, that
he deserted the colors, and would hide from search parties in the place
to be hereinafter described.
The house was built of the gray sand stone found in that region, and
was two stories high, with a capacious cellar, and an immense garret.
The walls were nearly three feet thick, set in cement, which became so
hard that when the day of destruction came a few years ago, the workmen
were unable to tear the walls apart, but had to blow them down with
dynamite. One hundred and fifty years had that cement been setting, and
it was as hard as the stone itself.
In the cellar was a well to provide water in case of siege by the
Indians, and heat was obtained by huge fire places in each of the
eight large rooms, the smoke from which was carried off by two giant
chimneys, and on one of these chimneys hangs the tale which is the
excuse for this article.
Madam Dies, true to her name, was gathered to her fathers, and her
craven husband went to the place prepared for those who desert their
colors.
Leaving no direct heirs, the house with its ten acres of grounds, and
known from its elegance and size as "Dies Folly" passed into other
hands, and finally, early in the nineteenth century, was purchased by
Major Ephriam Beach, and remained in the family for nearly one hundred
years, until destroyed by the exigencies of business.
The huge chimneys reared their massive proportions in the center of
each side of the house, and Major Beach, wishing to rearrange the
interior of his dwelling, tore down the one on the north side. As it
was being taken down, brick by brick, they came to where it passed
through the garret, and there the workmen discovered a secret recess
capable of holding several people.
It was cunningly conceived with the entrance so arranged as to exactly
resemble the brick composing the chimney, and an enemy might hunt for
days and fail to discover the secret hiding place. It was evidently
intended as a concealed refuge in case the house should be captured by
the Indians, but so far as known was never used for that purpose, the
village never being attacked after the house was built. Some dishes
and a water jar which were found in the hidden chamber, served to
prove that the husband of Madam Dies used it to conceal himself from
the British soldiers when they were hunting him, but apart from that
undignified proceeding it was never used.
[Illustration: THE OLD LIBERTY BELL.
"Proclaim liberty throughout all the land, unto all the inhabitants
thereof."]
The house was well known to be haunted, and there are many well
authenticated ghost stories told in connection with it; but the spooks
were a decent and well behaved lot, and never disturbed the writer,
who spent many years within its substantial walls.
The daughter of the writer was the last of my children born therein,
and she never saw even a fairy Godmother, although both of her
grandmothers hovered around her cradle.
The writer, Edward Cunningham Beach, is a grandson of Major Ephriam
Beach, herein mentioned and the baby daughter in aforesaid is Mrs.
Barrett Cothran, of Atlanta, Georgia.--_Council Safety Chapter, D.
A. R._
A HERO OF THE REVOLUTION.
The descendants of Grace (Pittman) McArthur still tell to their
children the story of Philip Pittman, her father, as it has been handed
down from father to son.
Philip was born July 7, 1765. He was one of eleven children of John
and Mary Pittman. His father served in the Revolution, as Matross in
Capt. Harman Davis' Company, 4th Artillery Regiment of South Carolina,
commanded by Col. Barnard Beckman.
Though too young, probably, to enlist, the revolutionary fires burned
so brightly in the young patriot's breast that he was ready to give his
life to his country even though he might not carry sabre or musket.
As the story goes, Philip was overtaken by Tories at one time while he
was making his way over the country with provisions for his father John
and some comrades.
Thinking this an easy way to find out the whereabouts of the Patriot
army the Tories commanded the boy to tell where his father was, but
they reckoned without their host.
The boy stoutly refused to tell, and even though strung up and hung to
a near by limb until almost too near dead to talk, he still refused.
Whereupon the officer, moved perhaps by the extreme youth of the boy,
ripped out an oath and ordered him cut down, remarking that the ----
rascal would die before he would tell.
Philip did not die, but lived to grow to manhood, enlisted in the war
and served as one of Georgia's soldiers line in the Revolutionary War.
He was three times married, raised a large family of children whose
allegiance to their country was only equaled by that of their father.
Philip died in south-west Georgia, July 14, 1849.--MRS. J. D. TWEEDY,
(Lula McArthur), Dawson, Ga., Dorothy Walton Chapter, D. A. R.
JOHN PAUL JONES.
What American or French girl or boy does not like to hear of that
"wizard" of the sea,--John Paul Jones! That "Pirate," as he was called
by the English minister in Holland, when Jones took his captured prizes
there, but he was no more a Pirate than you or I. The word Pirate means
one who is at war with mankind, and John Paul was holding an honest
position in an honorable service and fighting only the enemies of his
adopted country--America.
He was born July 6th, 1747, at Arbigland, Scotland, of poor and obscure
parents, his father being a gardener, but the right material was in
him to make a great man and he won for himself a world-wide fame as a
leading figure in the American Navy. The only conquerer to whom he ever
lowered his colors was death.
At twelve years of age he was apprenticed, then went to sea on the
"Friendship" to visit his brother William Paul, in Virginia. While in
North Carolina, in 1773, he changed his surname to Jones for the love
he bore to a family of that name living there. To show what one can
do when he tries and has faith in himself, I will tell you that Jones
was a poor sailor at twelve, officer at seventeen, Naval Lieutenant
at twenty-eight, Captain at twenty-nine, Commodore at thirty-two, at
forty-one a Vice-Admiral in the Imperial Navy of Russia, at forty-three
a prominent figure in the French Revolution, and died at the age of
forty-five, deeply deplored by Napoleon, who expected to do great
things in conjunction with him.
Jones loved France and France loved him, and with him and France we
were able to gain our liberty from the British yoke. He loved America
because he loved liberty, and he put all his grand titles aside when
making his last will and testament to sign himself, "I, John Paul
Jones, an American citizen." Such men as Washington, Franklin, Hamilton
and LaFayette, were his staunch friends. Kings and Queens delighted to
do him favor. Louis XVI knighted him and presented him with a sword of
honor. Catherine, of Russia, made him an Admiral and loaded him with
honors. These are only a few of his distinguished friends.
In personal appearance he was slender and swarthy, with black hair and
eyes; always well dressed, graceful and courtly. He was as much at home
at the most aristocratic courts of Europe as when treading the deck of
a man-of-war. He was grave by nature, but quite witty.
A kinder heart never beat in the breast of any man.
He hoisted the first American Flag that ever flew from an American
war vessel, on his ship, the "Ranger," and at the same time Congress
decided to accept the present form of the flag, it made him Captain of
the "Ranger," hence his remark: "The flag and I are twins; born at the
same hour, from the same womb of destiny; we cannot be parted in life
or death."
February 14th, 1778, the French naval commander, Lea Motte Piquet,
saluted for the first time from a foreign power the Stars and
Stripes,--gave thirteen and received nine guns.
Just a word right here about the flag, so dear to us:
When Betsy Ross made our flag, she objected to the six pointed stars
that General Washington wanted, because the English used it, but told
him it would be more appropriate to use the five pointed star that the
French and Dutch used, as they were friendly to the colonies; and she
had her way.
I haven't space to tell of the many victories of Jones, but one of the
greatest was when he captured the "Serapis" from the British, September
23, 1779. His own little weak vessel, the "Bonhomme Richard" went down
with the flag flying, but just before it sank, his antagonist thought
he was about to give up the fight, and asked him "if he had struck his
flag?" He answered, "I've just begun to fight." So he won the battle
and captured the prize.
Jones died July 18, 1792, in Paris, of dropsy of the chest. He was
buried in the old St. Louis cemetery, in the northeastern part of
Paris, and lay there one hundred and thirteen years before he was
brought back to the United States. General Horace Porter is the man
who, after six long years of search, finally found his body in the old
cemetery, which by this time was the dumping ground for horses and dogs.
The body had been put in a leaden coffin, carefully packed with straw
and hay, and then filled with alcohol to preserve it. Rear Admiral C.
D. Sigsbee, was sent to France to bring the remains of the hero home.
Knowing Jones' love for our flag, the Daughters of the American
Revolution Society presented Admiral Sigsbee with a beautiful silk
flag, June 15th, 1905, to be used in connection with the return of
Jones' remains. Afterward it was hung in Continental Hall, Washington,
D. C.
On July 25, 1915, the body of Jones was placed in a brick vault, Naval
Academy grounds, Annapolis, with religious and military ceremonies. On
April 29, 1906, commemorative ceremonies were held in the Armory of the
Naval Academy, Annapolis, and then the casket was put in Bancroft Hall.
Here all that is mortal of the conquerer of the "Serapis" lies, and
in the battles of life when the odds seem against us, may we be able
to exclaim with him, "I've just begun to fight."--MRS. W. E. WIMPY,
Piedmont Continental Chapter, D. A. R.
THE REAL GEORGIA CRACKER.
There was a man named Oglethorpe,
Who didn't like old England's laws;
So he got into his little ship,
And sailed it straight across.
He swung around Carolina's point
And landed at a Bluff;
And when he found the soil so rich,
He said--"tis good enough."
He named the place Savannah,
And then laid off a town,
You ought to seed the taters,
That grew thar in the ground.
He planted cotton, rice and corn,
And then a patch of backer:
That was the first beginning,
Of the Real Georgia Cracker.
Then he got some mules and plows,
And sat the boys to hoeing;
Ever since they stirred the soil,
The Georgia Cracker has been growing.
But now--where once those taters grew,
Mount twenty tall church steeples;
And the place he named Savannah,
Dwell nigh a hundred thousand people.
Will stand a living factor;
While angels guard it overhead,
God bless the Georgia Cracker.
In Chippewa his monument,
Jesup, Ga.
--_L. G. Lucas._
THE DYING SOLDIER WHO GAVE HIS WIFE FOR HIS FRIEND.
Many years ago there lived in Virginia a little boy whose name was John
Davenport. His father was a farmer who planted and raised large crops
of tobacco in the fields about his home. His parents were good and wise
people, and carefully brought up and trained their children. John was
a good boy. He was honest, truthful, obedient, bold and strong. If he
had any thing to do, either in work or play, he did it well. He grew
up like other boys of his day. He went to school and made many friends
among his playmates by his manly conduct.
There lived in the same county in Virginia another little boy of strong
and sterling character whose name was Harry Burnley. These two little
boys were near neighbors and great friends, and they played and hunted
and fished together all during their early boyhood days.
When John Davenport was quite a young man he met and married Lucy
Barksdale, a girl of great merit and beauty who was just sixteen years
old at the time of their marriage in 1772.
This couple spent many happy days together; children came to gladden
their home; and life looked rosy and bright before them. As these
peaceful and happy days were gliding by in their Virginia home a
tempest was gathering--a great war cloud--which was destined to bring
much sorrow to this happy pair.
England, the mother country, who at first dealt kindly and justly with
the colonists, had begun to be unkind to them and to tax them unjustly.
These oppressive and burdensome taxes the colonists refused to pay.
England sent over trained soldiers to the American colonies to enforce
obedience to her unjust laws. The colonists were weak, and had no
trained soldiers; but they raised an army and determined to fight for
their liberties. So war began.
After the Declaration of Independence by the patriots on July 4th,
1776, John Davenport, ever true to his country and his convictions
of right and wrong, though regretting to leave his beautiful young
wife and his happy children, took up arms to fight for liberty. Harry
Burnley went with him to fight for the same noble cause. They were
both brave soldiers and fought in most of the prominent battles of the
Revolutionary war. They were mess-mates and bunk-mates throughout the
war.
On the night of March 14th, 1781, while the two opposing armies were
encamped near Greensboro, at Guilford Court House, North Carolina, and
stood ready to join in bloody battle the next day, these two devoted
friends were sitting by their camp fire, talking of the coming battle
and thinking of their loved ones at home. John Davenport seemed sad
and much depressed. Harry Burnley noticed his depression and asked him
why he was no downcast. He said, "Harry, somehow I feel that I will be
killed in battle tomorrow. I almost know it." Harry Burnley tried to
dissipate his gloomy forebodings and cheer him up, by laughing at him
and by making light of presentiments and by tusseling with him, but all
without success. Determined to cheer up his friend, Harry finally said,
"John, if you are killed tomorrow, I am going back home and marry your
widow," Harry being an unmarried man.
On the next day the cruel battle was fought. The ground was covered
with dead and dying men, soldiers on both sides, covered with blood and
dust. One of these soldiers was John Davenport. He had been wounded and
would die; and he was suffering from both pain and thirst. When the
battle was over, his devoted friend hurried to his side and found him
mortally wounded. When he found him, skulkers were stripping him of the
silver buckles which he wore.[2]
He was tenderly nursed by his life-long friend during the few hours
that he lived. Realizing that the end was near, John Davenport said to
his friend, "Harry, I am dying; and you remember last night you said to
me in jest that if I lost my life today, that you were going home and
marry Lucy. You have been my best friend, you are a noble and good man,
and I now ask you in earnest to do as you said you would in jest--go
back home after the war is over, marry my wife, and take care of her
and my five little children."
About one year after the death of John Davenport, Harry Burnley and
Mrs. Lucy Davenport were married. Several years later they moved to
Warren County, Georgia, where they lived and died and were buried. Mrs.
Lucy Davenport Burnley was the mother of fourteen children, five by
her first marriage and nine by her second. Among her descendants are
to be found very many noble men and women in America--distinguished
as writers, lawyers and educators, and in every walk of life. Many
of her sons and grandsons have sacrificed their lives for their
country.--MRS. ANNIE DAVIDSON HOWELL.
FOOTNOTE:
[2] These skulkers in their hurry to get away left five silver buckles
and epaulettes which were exhibited at the Exposition in New Orleans
some years ago.
WHEN BEN FRANKLIN SCORED.
Long after the victories of Washington over the French and the English
had made his name familiar to all Europe, Benjamin Franklin was a guest
at a dinner given in honor of the French and English Ambassadors. The
Ambassador from England arose and drank a toast to his native land: "To
England--the sun whose bright beams enlighten and fructify the remotest
corners of the earth."
The French Ambassador, filled with his own national pride, but too
polite to dispute the previous toast, offered the following: "To
France--the moon whose mild, steady, and cheering rays are the delight
of all nations, consoling them in darkness and making their dreariness
beautiful."
Then arose "Old Ben Franklin," and said in his slow but dignified way:
"To George Washington--the Joshua who commanded the sun and the moon to
stand still, and they obeyed him."
A REVOLUTIONARY BAPTIZING.
After the cold winter at Valley Forge, Captain Charles Cameron was sent
home to Augusta County, Virginia, to recruit his Company. On his way
back to the Continental Army, he and his men captured a Tory on the
right bank of the Potomac River and decided to convert him, by baptism,
into a loyal Patriot. Taking him down to the river bank they plunged
him in.
Once--"Hurrah for King George!" came from the struggling Tory as he
arose from the water.
Twice--"Hurrah for King George! Long live King George!" The Tory was
again on top.
Three times--"Hurrah for King George! Long live King George! King
George forever!"
The men looked helplessly at their Captain. "Loose him," were the
orders, "and let him go. He is unconvertible."
GEORGE WALTON.
The youngest of the three signers of the Declaration of Independence,
from Georgia, was George Walton, who was born in Prince Edward County,
Virginia, in 1749. He became an orphan when quite young and his
guardian did not care to be burdened with his education, so he was
given to a carpenter as an apprentice and put to hard work. After his
days work he would light a fire of fat pine and study until the wee
small hours of the night, thus gaining an education most boys would let
go by. The good carpenter, seeing him so industriously inclined and
anxious for an education, allowed him to keep the money he earned and
helped him all he could and at last relieved him of his apprenticeship,
and he then decided to come to Georgia. At twenty years of age he went
(by private conveyance) to Savannah, which was then a small town of
only a few thousand people. He studied law in the office of Henry Young
and was soon admitted to the bar.
In June, 1775, a call signed by George Walton, Noble W. Jones,
Archibald Bullock and John Houston, was issued asking people to meet at
Liberty Pole to take measures to bring about a union of Georgia with
her sister colonies in the cause of freedom. The meeting was a success,
a council of Safety Chapter organized, of which George Walton was a
member, the Union Flag was raised at the Liberty Pole, and patriotic
speeches were made.
In July, 1775, a Congress of Representatives from all over Georgia
was held in Savannah. This Congress has been called "Georgia's first
Secession Convention" for it declared the colony was no longer
bound by the acts of England, since the mother country was acting
unjustly and oppressively. George Walton was present and though only
twenty-six years old, he was recognized as one of the most influential
representatives of the convention.
In December, 1775, George Walton became President of the Council of
Safety and practically had charge of the colony. He was sent as a
delegate to the Continental Congress in Philadelphia in 1776. The
war had begun and the country was much excited. It was decided that
Independence was the only proper course, so July 4th, 1776, the
Declaration of Independence was signed by all delegates.
In 1777, George Walton married Dorothy Chamber; 1779 he was Governor
of Georgia, then he went back to Philadelphia as a member of Congress,
where he stayed until October, 1781. In December, 1778, he became
Colonel in the First Regiment of Foot Militia for the defence of
Georgia. The British were then bent on capturing Savannah. Col. Walton
with one hundred men was posted on the South Common to guard the
approach to Great Ogeeche Ferry. General Robert Howe was in command
of the American forces, and Colonel Walton had informed him of a pass
through the swamp by which the enemy could attack them in rear, but
General Howe paid no attention to this. The result was this pass being
left unguarded, the British made their way to the rear of the American
forces and fell upon them with great disaster. Col. Walton was shot
in the thigh, the bone being broken; and falling from his horse, was
captured by the British. The enemy entered Savannah and held that city
captive. Col. Walton was taken prisoner to Sunbury, where he was well
cared for until his recovery. He never, however, regained complete use
of his leg, for he limped the rest of his life. He was exchanged for a
Captain of the British Navy and proceeded to Augusta. Soon after his
return to Augusta he was made Governor of Georgia, but the state being
so over-run by British, he had little to do.
Peace came to the colonists in 1782, and the British withdrew from
Savannah. America was free and the states independent in 1783. George
Walton was made Chief Justice of Georgia, and for seven years was
a beloved judge in all parts of Georgia. In 1789 he was again made
Governor of Georgia for a term of one year. While he was governor he
received a copy of the Constitution of the United States which had been
framed by the delegates from all the states.
In 1795 and 1796, George Walton was sent as a Senator to the Congress
of the United States. For many years, and up to the time of his death
he was judge of the middle circuit of Georgia. During the latter part
of his life, his home was near Augusta at a beautiful country place
named Meadow Garden. The house is still standing, and was bought by the
Daughters of the American Revolution, and is being preserved by them
as a memorial to George Walton. He died February 2nd, 1804, at Meadow
Garden, in the fifty-fifth year of his life. He was buried several
miles from Augusta, at Rosney, here his body rested until 1848, when it
was reinterred, being brought to Augusta and placed under the monument
on Greene Street, in front of court house, the body of Lyman Hall being
placed there at the same time. The grave of Button Gwinnett could not
be found; so only two of the signers of the Declaration rest under this
stately memorial.
Few men have received as many honors as George Walton. He was six times
elected representative to Congress, twice Governor of Georgia, once a
Senator of the United States, four times Judge of the Superior Court,
once the Chief Justice of the state. He was a Commissioner to treat
with the Indians, often in the State Legislature, a member of nearly
every important committee on public affairs during his life. His name
occurs in the State's Annals for over thirty years of eventful and
formative history.--_Compiled from "Men of Mark of Georgia."_
THOMAS JEFFERSON.
In writing of a man like Jefferson, whose name has been a household
word since the birth of the Nation, it is well-nigh impossible to avoid
being commonplace; so that in the beginning, I ask you indulgence, if
in reviewing his life, I should recount facts that are as familiar to
you as the Decalogue.
Yet, in studying that life, I find such a richness of achievement, such
an abundance of attainment, such a world of interest, that I am at a
loss how to prepare a paper that will not require an extra session for
its reading.
Thomas Jefferson was the eldest child of a seemingly strange union; the
father, an uneducated pioneer, surveyor, and Indian fighter, living
in the mountains of Virginia--the mother, Jane Randolph, coming from
the best blood of that blue blooded commonwealth. I think we need dig
no further around Jefferson's family tree in order to understand how
a gentleman of education, culture, and aristocratic instincts could
affect a dress so different from men of his class, and could so deeply
and sincerely love the masses as to spend his life in their behalf. And
this he certainly did. He worked, thought, planned, and accomplished
for them--yet, throughout his life, his associations were always with
the upper classes.
He began life in 1743, in the small village of Shadwell, Va., where
he spent his childhood and youth among the freedom of the hills.
Afterwards, whenever he escaped from public duty, it was to retire to
this same neighborhood, for it was on one of his ancestral hills that
Monticello was built.
Thanks to his mother, he was carefully educated at William and Mary
College, from which he graduated at the age of eighteen. The Brittanica
draws the following picture of him as a young man:
"He was an expert musician, a good dancer, a dashing rider, proficient
in all manly exercises; a hard student; tall, straight, slim, with
hazel eyes, sandy hair, delicate skin, ruddy complexion; frank,
earnest, sympathetic, cordial, full of confidence in men, and sanguine
in his views of life." Is not that a pleasing portrait?
Being the eldest son, his father's death, while he was at college, left
him heir to his estate of nineteen hundred acres, so that he could live
very comfortably. Jefferson lived in a day when a man's wealth was
measured in great part by the land he owned. It is indicative of his
thrift and energy that his nineteen hundred acres soon grew to five
thousand--"all paid for," we are told. Indeed, he was strictly honest
in paying his debts.
He was a born farmer, and to the end of his life retained his love for
that mode of existence.
However, he chose the law for his profession. That he did not have to
watch his practice grow through a long season of painful probation is
shown by the record of sixty-eight cases before the chief court of the
Province during the first year after his admission to the Bar, and
nearly twice that many the second year.
Although, as I said, he loved a farmer's life, he was allowed little
leisure to follow it, serving in succession as member of the Virginia
House of Burgesses, member of Congress, Governor of Virginia, member of
Congress again, Minister to France, Secretary of State, Vice-President,
and President.
Perhaps many other men have served the public for as long a term, but I
challenge history to find another who has accomplished so much for his
country.
From the founding of Jamestown to the present day, no man, Washington
not excepted, has had the influence over the nation that Jefferson
wielded.
To have been the author of the great Declaration, it would seem, were
fame enough for one American, but for him that was only the beginning.
Independence achieved, he set about making his own state really free
and introduced into the Virginia Legislature bill after bill which cut
off the excresences of a monarchial system, lingering in the practices
of a new-born nation. These bills were not all carried when he proposed
them, by any means, but hear what, in the end they gave to Virginia,
and remember that these things came through the efforts of one man:
religious freedom, the fight for which began in '76 and continued
till 1785; the system of entails broken up; the importation of slaves
prohibited, and primo-geniture discontinued.
Jefferson was not a fluent speaker, but a clear thinker. Besides this,
he had a great antipathy to appearing in print. Therefore, when it was
necessary to say or do anything, he had only to tell somebody what to
say or do, and the thing was accomplished.
Leicester Ford, who has compiled a very thorough Life of Jefferson,
says that "he influenced American thought more than any other person,
yet boasted that he never wrote for the press. By means of others, he
promulgated that mars of doctrine, nowhere formulated, known as The
Jeffersonian Principles." The doctrine that goes by the name of Monroe
was probably his also.
That the principles of the Democratic Party have remained unchanged
from his day to ours only shows the clearness and correctness of his
logic. Not only is this true, but he thoroughly and conscientiously
believed in the things he taught, the theory of States Rights being a
child of his own brain.
During his two terms as President, and throughout the remainder of his
life, such was the faith of his party in his wisdom, foresight, and
political integrity, that he had only to express a wish, and it became,
unquestioned, the law of the land.
After his retirement, his party proposed no measure until a visit was
first made to the "Sage of Monticello," and his opinion obtained.
President followed President, Jefferson became old and infirm, but to
the day of his death, he was undisputed leader of the American nation.
Did he not deserve the name of seer? Years before the Revolution, he
warned the people against slavery, declaring that "nothing is more
certainly written in the book of fate than that these people are to be
free." He owned the slaves that came to him from his father and his
wife, but is said never to have purchased any.
Among the things accomplished during his presidency are the
extermination of the Mediterranean pirates, the exploration of the
West, public debt diminished, emigration of Indians beyond the
Mississippi promoted, and the wonderful Louisiana purchase.
Though his second term was clouded by constant war in Europe, and the
continued depredations on American commerce, at its close, he was urged
to serve for the third term, the Legislatures of five States requesting
it, showing that he was not held responsible for the condition of
affairs.
His was a many sided nature. Great statesman that he was, great
political scientist, his ability did not stop there. His interest in
commerce, agriculture, literature, history, music, education, and the
natural sciences was unbounded, and his private collections, perhaps,
were unexcelled at that time.
No man has done more for the cause of education among us than he.
He it was who proposed a bill for "the free training of all free
children, male and female." This was ten years before the admission
of girls to the common schools of Boston. His reason for wanting good
schools in Virginia was unique--he said he objected to being a beggar
for the crumbs that fell from the tables of the North. He pleaded for
nonsectarian schools, and was, therefore, called by many atheistic.
This was one of the obstacles that he had to overcome in his fight
for the University of Virginia. Princeton was then sectarian--William
and Mary was controlled by the Episcopal Church. The result of all
this thought and desire exists for us today in the University of
Virginia--the first real University in America.
Thomas Nelson Page says, "No stranger story of self sacrifice and
devotion to a high ideal in the face of trials, which to lesser genius
might have appeared insurmountable, and of disappointments which to
less courage must have proved fatal, has ever been written than that
which recounts the devotion of the last twenty years of the life of
Thomas Jefferson to the establishment of a great university." The
corner stone of Central College, which was afterwards enlarged to the
University of Virginia, was laid in 1816 by President Monroe, in the
presence of Jefferson and Madison, ex-presidents.
Not only did Jefferson see the need for this school, and work to carry
it through, but he actually drew the plans for the buildings, modelling
them after those of ancient Greece and Rome.
Page says, to quote from the same author--and, if you want to read an
interesting book, read his "Old Dominion"--"If any pile of buildings
in the world is fitted by its beauty to be the abode of philosophy it
is this. * * * * The University has excelled in scholastic results any
similar institution in the country. She has a larger representation in
Congress than any other, a larger representation on the bench and a
larger representation in the medical departments of both army and navy.
This has been accomplished on an income less than that of many second
rate colleges."
This result, and the high standard prevailing in the University today,
have more than justified Jefferson for all his labor. His constant
refrain was, "We are working for posterity."
The project was in his brain five years before he began work on it. One
of his proudest titles is "Father of the University of Virginia."
Jefferson's writings consist mostly of letters and addresses, besides
"A Summary View of the Rights of British America," written before the
Revolution, circulated in England, and attributed to Burke, and the
well known and valuable "Notes on Virginia."
He loved his home and his family, and seems to have been peculiarly
blessed in them. He married a rich young widow--Martha Skelton--though
it does not appear that he did so because she was rich.
Of several children only two grew to maturity, and only one survived
him. His wife lived just ten years after their marriage, and almost
with her last breath begged him not to give her children a step-mother.
He made and kept the promise.
I know I have given a rose-colored account of him, yet some shadow
belongs to the portrayal. No one could do the things that he did and
not have enemies. Particularly do politicians not handle each other
with gloves. Jefferson has been called all the ugly names in man's
vocabulary, but very little, if any, real evidence can be adduced to
support any of this.
With all his gifts, he was unfitted to lead a people in the trying time
of war; consequently, his governorship of Virginia, occurring during
the Revolution, and his second term as President were not eminently
successful. No one can deny the bitter emnity between him and Hamilton
any more than any one can prove that the former was more to blame than
the latter. Admit that he was often theoretical and visionary, yet
the work he accomplished proves that he was even more practical and
farsighted.
That he was not free from idiosyncrasies is shown by the manner in
which he went to his first inauguration, and the fact that he always
dressed as a farmer--never as a President.
All this was to prove his steadfastness of faith in democratic ways
and institutions. He would not indulge in making a formal speech at
the opening of Congress, but wrote and sent his "message" by hand--a
practice followed by every President since, with the exception of
President Wilson, 1913.
In all things he was a strict constructionist. But none of these things
can detract much from the name and fame of a man who has put such
foundation stones in our civilization.
I have drawn my data mostly from the writings of one who holds the
opposite political tenets--yet I find it recorded that "Jefferson's
personal animosities were few"--that he couldn't long hold anger in his
heart--that "to this day the multitude cherish and revere his memory,
and in so doing, pay a just debt of gratitude to a friend, who not only
served them, as many have done, but who honored and respected them, as
very few have done."
His hospitality and the public desire to see him were so great that
his home was for many years a kind of unprofitable hotel, because
everything was free of charge. It was always full, and sometimes his
housekeeper had to provide fifty beds. This great expense, added to
some security debts, left him a poor man. In fact, he was in need, but
when the public found it out, money came in in sufficient quantities to
enable him to continue his mode of life.
Like Shakespeare, he wrote his own epitaph, any one item of which
would entitle him to the love of posterity: "Here was buried Thomas
Jefferson, Author of the Declaration of American Independence, of
the Statute of Virginia, for religious freedom, and Father of the
University of Virginia."
I fear I have been tedious, I know I have been trite--yet I beg you to
read for yourselves the history and letters of this great man.
That his death occurred on the 4th day of July, 1826, just fifty years
from the day when the wonderful Declaration was made, and coincident
with that of his former colleague, another ex-president, seems a
fitting close to a most remarkable career.
ORATORS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION.
MISS SUSIE GENTRY, _Vice State Regent, Tennessee_.
Time, the artificer, makes men, as well as things, for their day and
use.
The Revolution was the evolution of an idea--one inherent in all
humanity--Liberty!
First, was the thought of a home, the most sacred and best of
man's sanctuaries. These pioneer Colonists, fleeing from religious
persecution, debt and poverty, often came to an untrodden wilderness of
limitless forest and plain, to form a local habitation and a name.
After the establishment of the home, education and its application
followed, through the teaching and oratory of the pulpit to the white
man and Indian. Next in order was self-government. The Revolutionary
period was productive not only of the general and soldier, but the
statesman and orator, who set forth the "grievances of the people" in
most glowing and convincing terms. The term "orator" has two specific
meanings--in common language, one who delivers an oration, a public
speaker; and technically, one who prays for relief, a petitioner. The
orators of the Revolutionary period were both in one. The true orator
is the poet of the practical. He must be an enthusiast; he must be
sincere; he must be fearless, and as simple as a child; he must be warm
and earnest, able to play upon the emotions, as a skillful musician
his instrument that responds to his every touch, be it ever so light
and delicate. So shall his words descend upon the people like cloven
tongues of fire, inspiring, sanctifying, beautifying and convincing;
for an orator's words are designed for immediate effect.
When the "Stamp Act" was repealed, March 18, 1766, Jonathan Mayhew
delivered a thrilling speech, known as "A Patriot's Thanksgiving," in
which he said: "The repeal has restored things to order. The course of
justice is no longer obstructed. All lovers of liberty have reason
to rejoice. Blessed revolution! How great are our obligations to the
Supreme Governor of the world!"
Even the conservatives, Benjamin Franklin and George Washington,
take of the promethean fire of patriotism; it is seen in Franklin's
writings, in Washington's "Farewell Address"--his masterpiece of
prophetic admonition, delivered in the style and diction of a gifted
orator. A long and faithful career of usefulness, and the very human
touch he had gained as a soldier and general, particularly during that
terrible year of 1777, developed the hitherto unknown gift.
Of the men who composed the Second Colonial and First Continental
Congress, which met at Philadelphia, September 5, 1774, William Pitt
said in his speech to the House of Lords: "History has always been my
favorite study, and in the celebrated writings of antiquity I have
often admired the patriotism of Greece and Rome, but, my lords, I
must avow that in the master states of the world I know not a people
or senate who can stand in preference to the delegates of America
assembled in general congress at Philadelphia."
Samuel Adams was one of the foremost orators and patriots of America,
and was of Massachusetts' famous bouquet--James Otis, Joseph Warren,
Josiah Quincy, John and John Quincy Adams--and left his work on the
history of America as a signer of the Declaration of Independence.
James Otis, next in chronological order, was a bold, commanding orator,
and the first to speak against the taxing of the colonies. He was
called "the silver-tongued orator" and "a flame of fire." His death was
as unusual as his gift--he was killed by a stroke of lightning May,
1772.
Joseph Warren and Josiah Quincy were both men of great talents and
power, Warren was elected twice to deliver the oration in commemoration
of the massacre of the fifth of March; he rendered efficient service by
both his writing and addresses; and was distinguished as a physician,
especially in the treatment of smallpox. He was killed while fighting
as a volunteer at Bunker Hill.
Josiah Quincy's powers as an orator were of a very high order. It is
sad to think that he died the very day he reached his native land,
after a voyage to Europe in the interest of the colonies. One does not
wonder that John Adams possessed influence, when in voting for the
Declaration of Independence he exclaimed: "Sink or swim, live or die,
survive or perish, I give my heart and hand to this vote;" nor that
the son of such a father was called "The Old Man Eloquent" and the
"Champion of the Rights of Petition," who thought "no man's vote lost
which is cast for the right."
John Adams is the one man who remembered liberty and the people, for
when he died July 4, 1826, his last words were, "It is the glorious
Fourth of July! God bless it--God bless you all!"
From this cursory glance of the orators of Massachusetts, we can well
understand how, like the "alabaster box" of old, the perfume of their
noble deeds for the cause of right still lingers.
Alexander Hamilton was an orator that accomplished much for the
colonies with his forceful, facile and brilliant pen, as did Madison
and Jay, in the "Federalist." Patrick Henry, the red feather, of
the Revolutionary period, as is E. W. Carmack of to-day--is by the
South regarded the Magna Stella of that marvelous galaxy of stars.
It is probable that his oratory was not as much a product of nature
as was thought at the time when it was so effective. It was somewhat
an inheritance, as he was the great-nephew of the Scotch historian
Robertson, and the nephew of William Winston who was regarded as an
eloquent speaker in his day.
Patrick, after six weeks study of law, we are told, commenced the
practice of law (having the incumbrance of a family and poverty) and
with what success, all the world knows. It was in the celebrated
"Parson's case" that he won his spurs, and the epithet of "the orator
of Nature;" also his election to the House of Burgesses, of Virginia.
Nine years after he made his famous speech in which he told George III
he might profit by the examples of Caesar and Charles I, he delivered
his greatest effort of oratory--in which he said, "I know not what
course others may take, but give me liberty, or give me death!"
Thomas Jefferson was the father of that instrument, the Declaration
of Independence--that gives us "life, liberty and the pursuit of
happiness," in so far as we trespass not on the moral and civil rights
of our neighbor--and was persuasive and eloquent, as well as an acute
politician. He was the acknowledged head of his party; and his work
was of the uttermost importance to both the colonies and states. No
one politician and orator has left a more indelible impression upon
succeeding generations than he.
Thomas Paine also did his quota as an orator and writer; and great
were the results accomplished by his "Common Sense" and the first
"Crisis." Paine was not only a writer and orator, but a soldier. Under
General Nathaniel Greene he rendered such efficient and valuable
service that he was called the "hero of Fort Mifflin." Although he
was an Englishman, who came to America and espoused the cause of the
Continentals, the English nation are glad to own him. William Cobbett
(the English statesman) says "whoever wrote the Declaration, Paine was
its author."
Paine was one of the most noted orators, if we remember that an "orator
is one who prays for relief--a petitioner," whether it be viva voce or
with the pen. We wish it were possible in the time allotted to us to
give extracts from the speeches and writings of these orators of the
Revolution. How grateful we should be, and what a debt of gratitude
we owe each of them, for their labors that have long since received
the encomium from God and man--"well done, thou good and faithful
servant."--_American Monthly._
THE FLAG OF OUR COUNTRY.
The flag of our country, how proudly it waves
In the darkness of night, in the light of the sun,
In silence it watches our patriots' graves,
In splendor it tells of their victories won!
It waves, as it waved in the brave days of old,
An emblem of glory, of hope, and of life;
A pledge to the world in each star and each fold
Of a love that endures through all danger and strife.
Of love that is deep as the sea 'neath its blue;
Of a love that is pure as the light of each star;
O, flag of our country, the brave and the true
Await thee, and greet thee, and bless thee afar!
The flag of our country, the flag of the free,
The hope of the weary, the joy of the sad,
May our eyes at the last, still thy bright promise see
That each slave shall know thee, arise and be glad!
The flag of our country, the flag of our love,
Our hearts are aflame with thy red, white and blue;
May thy glory increase while thy stars shine above,
To thy promise and pledge may the children be true.
O, the red, white and blue! O, the flag of the free!
Sweet liberty calls to the nations afar,
Thy glory illumines the land and the sea,
O, flag of our country, earth's beautiful star!
--_Metta Thompson in American Monthly._
THE OLD VIRGINIA GENTLEMAN.
Many of you have no doubt heard or read the famous lecture of Dr.
Bagley, entitled "Bacon and Greens," and chuckled over his vivid
description of "The Old Virginia Gentleman." You may be interested in
knowing that a portrait of the Hon. James Steptoe, of Federal Hill,
Bedford County, Virginia, painted by Harvey Mitchell in 1826, was the
inspiration of this interesting lecture.
This "Old Virginia Gentleman" was a worthy representative of the
House of Steptoe, whose forefathers played an important part in the
history of the "Old World." The progenitor of this interesting family
was Anthony Steptoe, the third son of Sir Philip Steptoe, of England.
Anthony and his wife, Lucy, came to the Colony in 1676, and located in
Lancaster County, Virginia, and they were the great grandparents of
Hon. James Steptoe.
"The Old Virginia Gentleman" was one of four brothers, George, James,
Thomas, and William; they had four half sisters, Elizabeth and Ann
Steptoe; Mary and Anne Aylett; and two step-sisters, Elizabeth and Ann
Aylett; thus the families of Steptoe and Aylett are often confounded.
Col. James Steptoe, M. D., of "Homany Hall," Westmoreland County,
Virginia, was born in the year of 1710, and died in 1778. He was a
distinguished physician, and held many positions of honor and trust
in affairs of Church and State. He married firstly Hannah Ashton, and
secondly Elizabeth Aylett, the widow of Col. William Aylett and a
daughter of Col. George Eskridge. The descendants of Colonel Steptoe
and Colonel Aylett are often confounded.
Col. Aylett married first Ann Ashton, a sister of Colonel Steptoe's
first wife, and had two daughters, Elizabeth and Ann. Elizabeth Aylett
married William Booth, and Ann married William Augustin Washington (a
half-brother of our beloved Gen. George Washington). Colonel Aylett
married secondly Elizabeth Eskridge, and had two daughters, Mary and
Anne; Mary married Thomas Ludwell Lee, of "Bell Vieu;" and Anne married
Richard Henry Lee, of "Chantielly."
Col. James Steptoe had two daughters by his first marriage, Elizabeth
and Ann; Elizabeth married first Philip Ludwell Lee, of "Stratford,"
and secondly Philip Richard Fendall; and Ann married first Willoughby
Allerton, and secondly Col. Samuel Washington, a younger brother of
Gen. George Washington. Of the four sons of Col. James Steptoe, George
and Thomas never married; William married Elizabeth Robinson, and
they resided at the old Robinson homestead, "Herwich." The Hon. James
Steptoe, the original "The Old Virginia Gentleman," was born in the
year of 1750, at "Homany Hall," Westmoreland County, Virginia. He was
educated at William and Mary College, and while there was a fellow
student of Thomas Jefferson. They formed a close friendship, which
continued throughout life. It was through the influence of Jefferson
that James Steptoe was appointed to an office under Secretary Nelson,
after which he was transferred in 1772, at the early age of 22, to the
clerkship of the District Court at New London, in Bedford Co., Va. This
position he held until his death in 1826, having served fifty-four
years. He married Frances Calloway, a daughter of Col. James Calloway,
of Bedford County.
The Hon. James Steptoe built the mansion house known as "Federal Hill,"
and it was here that he spent his useful life surrounded by his family,
and noted for his sincerity and hospitality. This mansion was situated
three miles from "Poplar Forest," the abode of his friend, Thomas
Jefferson, who loved to seek seclusion there during his intervals of
rest from public service.
Upon one occasion when Gen. Andrew Jackson, on his way to Washington
just after the battle of New Orleans, had stopped to dine with his
friend, James Steptoe, he met Thomas Jefferson just at the gateway. The
two great men dismounted from their horses and exchanged salutations
with each other and with their host, who awaited them within upon the
lawn. Mr. Jefferson, with his courtly manner, waving his hand, stood
back for "Old Hickory" to pass before him; but that gallant soldier,
bowing low, said: "Surely, Mr. Jefferson does not think that I would go
before an ex-President of the United States." To which Mr. Jefferson
graciously replied: "It would ill become me to take precedence of the
hero of New Orleans." Thus these two distinguished men stood bowing
and scraping to each other in the roadway in true "Gaston and Alfonse
style," while Mr. Steptoe waited for them with, I am sure, amused
impatience; until at length General Jackson threw his arms about Mr.
Jefferson and gently lifted him quite over the threshold, and then the
General's aide and the other gentry coming up, we may be sure they
had a jolly good time--a "feast of reason and a flow of soul," not
forgetting Mrs. Steptoe's bountiful dinner served on the famous Steptoe
silver, a veritable feast of "wines on the leas," which to read about
makes us long more than ever for a return of those good old times.
But once a shadow fell upon the friendship of Mr. Jefferson and Mr.
Steptoe, as clouds will fall upon human friendships. James Steptoe
had another valued friend, Major Gibbon, a gallant officer of the
Revolutionary army, who had led the forlorn hope at the battle of
Stony Point. This old hero had been given the appointment of collector
of customs at Richmond, but had been removed by Jefferson because it
had been represented to him that Major Gibbon was on familiar terms
with Aaron Burr, who was then on trial at Richmond for acts charged
against him as treasonable. Soon after the removal of Major Gibbon
Mr. Jefferson was on one of his visits at Poplar Forest, but his old
friend, James Steptoe, who was usually the first to welcome him, the
illustrious visitor, to his summer home, neither went in person nor
sent a message of salutation to his life-long friend. Days lengthened
into weeks, and still he made no sign, and at length Mr. Jefferson, on
a bright summer morning, rode over to Mr. Steptoe's and dismounted
from his horse at the gate, and on entering the yard found Mr. Steptoe
walking to and fro on his porch, apparently unconscious of his guest's
arrival.
Mr. Jefferson advanced with outstretched hand and cordial smile, but
Mr. Steptoe gazed cold and stern upon his visitor, returning no look or
word of kindness for the offered greeting of the President, who thus
addressed him: "Why, James Steptoe, how is this? I have been for weeks
within a stone's throw of you, and though you have usually been the
first to welcome me home, your face is now turned from me, and you give
me no welcome to your house." To this Mr. Steptoe coolly replied: "Mr.
Jefferson, I have been disappointed in you, sir, you are not the man I
took you to be. You know as well as I do that Maj. James Gibbon was a
brave, a meritorious officer in the Revolutionary army, that he served
under Aaron Burr, who was also a gallant soldier, and his officers
were greatly attached to him. Now when Colonel Burr has been brought
to Richmond for trial, committed to prison and every indignity heaped
upon him, and just because Major Gibbon has supplied his old commander
with some necessaries and comforts, you, from hatred of Burr, have
wreaked your vengeance on Gibbon and deprived a faithful old soldier
of an office which was his only means of support." "Why, Steptoe, is
that all?" said Jefferson, "I assure you the matter had not been so
presented to me before. But the same hand that removed Major Gibbon can
replace him, and justice shall be done him at once." "Then you are,
indeed, my friend, and welcome as ever to my home and heart," cried
James Steptoe.
James Steptoe's land and silver are gone, his bones have turned to
dust; and ere long his name may be forgotten, but let us now honor the
man who would refuse the proffered hand of the President of the United
States, when that hand was stained by an unworthy act. Would there were
more men of such mettle in our day!
James Steptoe was not only noted for his hospitality and justness, but
also for his charity. Driving along in his coach and four, he passed
the house of a certain widow, Mrs. Chaffee. Upon noticing a crowd
gathered around, he sent his coachman, Ben, to inquire the cause.
Hearing that the poor woman was being sold out for debt he descended
from his carriage, stopped the auction, paid the mortgage, and added
one more noble act of charity to his record.
James Steptoe was beloved by everyone, and especially so by his slaves,
whom he had taught different trades that they might support themselves
after his death when, by his will, they were all set free. A handsome
monument in the old family burying ground in Bedford County, bears this
inscription, "James Steptoe, born 1750, died 1826, for fifty-four years
the Clerk of Bedford County."
The office of clerk of the Court of Bedford County has been held by the
Steptoe family in its lineal and collateral branches for more than a
hundred years.
The character of James Steptoe may be described in a few words,
integrity, independence, and the strictest form of republican
simplicity. Though descended, as has been shown, from a long line of
the better class of English gentry, he never alluded to it himself;
in fact, it was not known in his family until after his death, when
they learned it through his correspondence. He was a man who held very
decided opinions on all subjects, and would at times express them as
to men and public affairs in very strong language, being strong in
his friendships and equally strong in his dislikes. As a clerk, he
was everything that could be desired, polite and obliging, as all Old
Virginia Gentlemen are; careful and attentive in the business of his
office and in court, and ever ready at all times to give information
and advice to those who needed it.
The Hon. James Steptoe and his wife, Frances Calloway, were the parents
of five sons and four daughters, as follows: Major James, who succeeded
his father as Clerk of Bedford, and who married Catherine Mitchell; Dr.
William, of Lynchburg, who married first Nancy Brown, and second Mary
Dillon; George, of Bedford County, who married Maria Thomas; Robert, of
Bedford County, who married Elizabeth Leftwich; Thomas, who inherited
the old home, married Louise C. Yancy; Elizabeth Prentise, who married
Hon. Charles Johnston, of Richmond, Va.; Frances, who married Henry
S. Langhorne, of Lynchburg, Va.; Sallie, who married William Massie,
of Nelson County, Virginia; Lucy, who married Robert Penn, of Bedford
County, Virginia. James Steptoe's descendants are scattered throughout
the United States, and are among our most distinguished citizens. He
has also descendants in England.
The old portrait by Harvey Mitchell is now owned by the Rt. Rev. James
Steptoe Johnston, Bishop of Western Texas; and a fine copy of the same
is owned by Mrs. William Waldorf Astor, of Cliveden-on-the-Thames,
England,--EDNA JONES COLLIER, _in American Monthly_.
WHEN WASHINGTON WAS WED.
Who does not wish that he might have been there,
When Martha Custis came down the stair
In silk brocade and with powdered hair,
On that long ago Saturday clear and fine,
A. D. Seventeen fifty-nine?
Out from St. Peter's belfry old,
Twelve strokes sounded distinct and bold,
So in history the tale is told,
When Dr. Mossen, preacher of zest,
Long since gone to his last long rest,
There in the Custis drawing room,
New world house, with an old world bloom,
Spake out the words that made them one,
Martha Custis and Washington.
Trembling a little and pale withal,
She faced her lover so straight and tall,
Oh, happiest lady beneath the sun!
Given as bride to George Washington.
Brave was the groom and fair the bride,
Standing expectant side by side,
But how little they knew or guessed
What the future for them possessed;
How the joys of a wedded life
Would be mingled with horrors of blood and strife;
How in triumph together they'd stand,
Covered with plaudits loud and grand,
Yes--covered with glory together they'd won,
Martha Custis and Washington.
Where is the gown in which she was wed?
Brocade, woven with silver thread?
Where are the pearls that graced her head?
Where are her high-heeled silken shoon
That stepped in time to the wedding tune?
Where are her ruffles of fine point lace?
Gone--all gone with their old world grace.
But the world remembers them every one,
And blesses the lady of Washington.
It is difficult to give the proper credit for the above poem. Mrs.
Walter J. Sears, New York City Chapter, found a few beautiful lines,
author unknown, added some lines herself, and then sent the whole to
"Will Carlton," who revised and added to them. Mrs. Sears recited the
poem at the celebration of Washington's wedding day by the New York
City Chapter, D. A. R., in January, 1909.
RHODE ISLAND IN THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION.
The American colonies, though subjects of Great Britain, stoutly
resisted the payment of revenues of customs; not because they doubted
the justice, but they did object to the intolerant manner of demanding
the revenues. Rhode Island, the smallest of the thirteen colonies, was
destined to take an important part in this resistance which brought
about the American Revolution.
The English parliament, in 1733, passed the famous "Sugar Act" which
laid a heavy tax upon West India products imported into the northern
colonies. Rhode Island protested, declaring that only in this way could
she be paid for her exports to the West Indies and thus be able to
purchase from England. The other colonies also objected and Richard
Partridge, the appointed agent to look after the interests of the
Rhode Island colony, conducted this affair for all the colonies. In
his letter he declared that the act deprived the colonists of their
rights as Englishmen, in laying taxes upon them without their consent
or representation. Thus, thirty-seven years before the Declaration of
Independence, the war-cry of the Revolution was first sounded and by
the Quaker agent of Rhode Island.
In 1764 a new "Sugar Act" was passed. Parliament hoped that a
reduction from six pence to three pence would conciliate the colonies.
Neither the "Sugar Act" nor the proposed "Stamp Act" was accepted.
The colonists still contended such an act and its acceptance to be
inconsistent with the rights of British subjects. A special session of
the Rhode Island assembly was convened. A committee of correspondence
was appointed to confer with the other colonies and the agent was
directed "to do anything in his power, either alone or joining with
the agents of other governors to procure a repeal of this act and to
prevent the passage of any act that should impose taxes inconsistent
with the rights of British subjects." Thus did Rhode Island expressly
deny the right of Parliament to pass such an act and also declare her
intention to preserve her privileges inviolate. She also invited the
other colonies to devise a plan of union for the maintenance of the
liberties of all.
The following year the "Stamp Act" was passed and disturbances
followed. The assembly convened and through a committee prepared six
resolutions more concise and emphatic than any passed by the other
colonies, in which they declared the plantation absolved from all
allegiance to the King unless these "obnoxious taxes" were repealed.
Bold measures! But they show the spirit of the colony. Johnston,
the stamp-collector for Rhode Island, resigned, declaring he would
not execute his office against "the will of our Sovereign Lord, the
People." In Newport three prominent men who had spoken in defence
of the action of Parliament were hung in effigy in front of the
court house. At evening the effigies were taken down and burned. The
revenue officers, fearing for their lives, took refuge on a British
man-of-war lying in the harbor and refused to return until the royal
governor would guarantee their safety. The assembly appointed two men
to represent Rhode Island in the convention about to assemble in New
York. This convention, after a session of nearly three weeks, adopted
a declaration of the rights and grievances of the colonies. The Rhode
Island delegates reported the assembly and a day of public thanksgiving
was appointed for a blessing upon the endeavors of this colony to
preserve its valuable privileges. The day before the "Stamp Act" was to
take effect all the royal governors took the oath to sustain it, except
Samuel Ward, governor of Rhode Island, who stoutly refused.
The fatal day dawned. Not a stamp was to be seen. Commerce was crushed.
Justice was delayed. Not a statute could be enforced. The leading
merchants of America agreed to support home manufacturers and to this
end pledged themselves to eat no more lamb or mutton.
The following year, January, 1766, the papers of remonstrance had
reached England; and Parliament turned its attention to American
affairs. The struggle was long and stormy; but the "Stamp Act" was
repealed, with the saving clause that "Parliament had full right to
bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever."
Meanwhile, patriotic societies were being formed in all the colonies
under the name of "Sons of Liberty." Rhode Island has the peculiar
honor of organizing a similar society: "Daughters of Liberty." By
invitation eighteen young ladies assembled at the house of Dr. Ephriam
Bowen, in Providence, and spent the day in spinning. They agreed to
purchase no goods of British manufacture until the "Stamp Act" should
be repealed and cheerfully agreed to dispense with tea. This society
rapidly increased and became popular throughout Rhode Island.
England kept her faith but a little while and then proposed to raise
a revenue by imposing duties on glass, lead, paint and paper, and a
tax of three pence a pound on tea. This aroused fresh indignation
throughout the colonies. In Virginia the house of burgesses passed a
series of resolutions that in them was vested the sole right of taxing
the colony. Copies were sent to every colonial assembly. The Rhode
Island assembly cordially approved.
The next month the British armed sloop _Liberty_, cruising in
Narraganset Bay in search of contraband traders, needlessly annoyed
all the coasting vessels that came in her way. Two Connecticut vessels
suspected of smuggling were taken into Newport. A quarrel ensued
between the captain of one of the vessels and the captain of the
_Liberty_. The yankee captain was badly treated and his boat fired
upon. The same evening the British captain went ashore, was captured
by Newport citizens and compelled to summon all his crew ashore except
the first officer. The people then boarded the _Liberty_, sent the
officer on shore, then cast the cable and grounded the _Liberty_ at the
Point. There they cut away the masts, scuttled the vessel, carried the
boats to the upper end of the town and burned them. This occurred July,
1769, and was "the _first overt act of violence_ offered to the British
authorities in America."
But armed vessels continued their molestations. The Rhode Island colony
was not asleep but awaiting a favorable opportunity which came at last
and the capture of the _Gaspee_ was planned and accomplished. Rewards
were offered for the apprehension of the perpetrators of this deed,
but without effect. Some of Rhode Island's most honored citizens were
engaged in the affair and some of the younger participants are said to
have boasted of the deed before the smoke from the burning vessel had
ceased to darken the sky. The capture of the _Gaspee_ in June, 1772,
was the first bold blow, in all the colonies for freedom. There was
shed the first blood in the war for Independence. The Revolution had
begun.
Then followed resolutions from Virginia that all the towns should unite
for mutual protection. Rhode Island went a step farther and proposed a
continental congress, and thus has the distinguished honor of making
the first explicit movement for a general congress, and a few weeks
later she was the first to appoint delegates to this congress.
The "Boston Port Bill" followed, and Massachusetts records tell of the
money and supplies sent from Rhode Island to Boston's suffering people.
England ordered that no more arms were to be sent to America. Rhode
Island began at once to manufacture fire arms. Sixty heavy cannon were
cast, and home-made muskets were furnished to the chartered military
companies. When the day arrived upon which Congress had decreed that
the use of tea should be suspended, three hundred pounds of tea were
burned in Market Square, Providence, while the "Sons of Liberty" went
through the town with a pot of black paint and a paint-brush and
painted out the word "Tea" on every sign-board. This was February 1,
1775. The fight at Lexington followed on the 19th of April. Two weeks
after this battle the Rhode Island assembly suspended Gov. Walton,
the last colonial governor of Rhode Island. He repeatedly asked to be
restored and was as often refused. At the end of six months he was
deposed. This was a bold act, but men who could attack and capture a
man-of-war were not afraid to depose from office one single man who was
resolved to destroy them.
The British war-ship _Rose_ was a constant menace to the vessels in
Rhode Island waters. Altercations ensued. Captain Abraham Whipple, who
headed the expedition to burn the _Gaspee_, discharged the first gun
at any part of the British navy in the American Revolution. Two armed
vessels were ordered for the protection of Rhode Island waters; and
this was the beginning of the American navy.
Passing over much of interest we come to the last important act of
Rhode Island colonial assembly: an act to abjure allegiance to the
British crown. It was a declaration of independence and it was made on
May 4, 1776, just two months before the Declaration of Independence,
signed at Philadelphia. This act closed the colonial period and
established Rhode Island as an independent state. The records of the
assembly had always closed with "God save the King!" This was changed
to "God save the United Colonies!" The smallest of the colonies had
defied the empire of Great Britain and declared herself an independent
state!
Dark days followed. The British army occupied Newport. By command of
congress, Rhode Island had sent her two battalions to New York, thus
rendering herself defenseless. The militia was organized to protect the
sea-coast. I may not linger to tell of the capture of Gen. Prescott; of
the unsuccessful attempt to dislodge the British, nor of the battle of
Rhode Island, in which Col. Christopher Greene with his famous regiment
of blacks distinguished himself, and which Lafayette afterwards
declared was the best-planned battle of the war. For three years the
English army held this fair island and left it a scene of desolation.
Newport never recovered. Her commerce was destroyed. Her ships never
returned.
Meanwhile momentous events were occurring at the seat of war.
Philadelphia was threatened and the continental congress had been
moved to Baltimore. Washington, with less than twenty-three hundred
men, recrossed the Delaware at night. The men he placed in two
divisions, one under General Greene, the other under Gen. Sullivan, and
successfully attacked the Hessians at Trenton capturing nine hundred
prisoners (Dec. 26th, 1776).
Washington recrossed the Delaware into Pennsylvania with his prisoners
and spoils that very night. On January 1st, 1777, with 5,000 men he
again crossed the Delaware and took post at Trenton. The next day
Cornwallis appeared before Washington's position with a much larger
forces. Only a creek separated the two armies. The Rhode Island brigade
distinguished itself at the successful holding of the bridge and
received the thanks of Washington. That night Washington withdrew,
leaving his camp fires burning. Next morning, January 3rd, 1777,
Cornwallis was amazed to find Washington gone and still more astounded,
as he heard in the direction of Princeton the guns of the Americans,
who won that day another decisive victory.
We must not dwell upon the record of Gen. Nathaniel Greene. His
campaign in South Carolina was brilliant. He has been called the
saviour of the South. It was he, a Rhode Island general, who, because
of his military skill, stood second only to Washington.
At the closing event of the war, the siege of Yorktown, a Rhode Island
regiment under Capt. Stephen Olney, headed the advancing column. Sword
in hand the leaders broke through the first obstructions. Some of the
eager assailants entered the ditch. Among these was Capt. Olney who,
as soon as a few of his men collected, forced his way between the
palisades, leaped upon the parapet and called in a voice that rose
above the din of battle "Capt. Olney's company form here!" A gunshot
wound in the arm, a bayonet thrust in the thigh and a terrible wound
in the abdomen which he was obliged to cover with one hand, while
he parried the bayonets with the other, answered the defiant shout.
Capt. Olney was borne from the field, but not until he had given the
direction to "form in order." In ten minutes after the first fire
the fort was taken. Three days later Cornwallis accepted terms of
surrender, which were formally carried out on October 19th, 1781. The
war was over. The gallantry of Olney was lauded by Lafayette in general
orders and more handsomely recognized in his correspondence. But the
historian, thus far, has failed to record the fact, noted by Arnold,
that the first sword that flashed in triumph above the captured heights
of Yorktown was a Rhode Island Sword!--ANNA B. MANCHESTER _in American
Monthly Magazine_.
GEORGIA AND HER HEROES IN THE REVOLUTION.
At the outbreak of the Revolution Georgia was the youngest of the
colonies. Although there had been some unsatisfactory relations with
the mother country, there had been no unfriendly relations until the
passage of the famous Stamp Act. On account of the liberal laws granted
by England and the fatherly care of General James Oglethorpe, the
Colony of Georgia had least cause to rebel. But she could not stand
aside and see her sister colonies persecuted without protesting.
In September, 1769, a meeting of merchants in Savannah protested
against the Stamp Act. Jonathan Bryan presided over this meeting, and
was asked by the royal governor, Sir James Wright, to resign his seat
in the governor's council for having done so. About the same time Noble
W. Jones was elected Speaker of the Assembly. Governor Wright refused
to sanction the choice because Noble W. Jones was a Liberty Boy.
These two acts of the governor angered the people and made them more
determined to resist. Noble W. Jones has been called "the morning star
of liberty," on account of his activity in the cause of liberty at this
time. A band of patriots met in August, 1774, and condemned the Boston
Port Bill. Six hundred barrels of rice were purchased and sent to the
suffering people of Boston.
About the same time a Provincial Congress was called to choose
delegates to the first Continental Congress to meet soon in
Philadelphia, but through the activity of the royal governor, only
five of the twelve parishes were represented. No representatives were
sent because this meeting did not represent a majority of the people.
St. John's parish, the hotbed of the rebellion, sent Lyman Hall to
represent that parish alone in the Continental Congress. On account of
the patriotic and independent spirit of its people, and this prompt and
courageous movement, the legislature in after years conferred the name
of Liberty County on the consolidated parishes of St. John, St. Andrew
and St. James.
After the news of Lexington arrived great excitement prevailed. On the
night of May 1, 1775, a party of six men led by Joseph Habersham broke
open the powder magazine and took out all the ammunition. Some of this
powder was sent to Massachusetts and used at the Battle of Bunker Hill.
The people proceeded to take charge of the government. A Council of
Safety and Provincial Assembly were elected.
The patriots captured a British schooner containing fourteen thousand
barrels of powder. This captured schooner was the first ship to be
commissioned by the American nation. The Council of Safety ordered
the arrest of Governor Wright. Joseph Habersham with six men easily
did this, but the governor soon escaped. The incident is famous
because John Milledge and Edward Telfair, known as two of the best
loved of Georgia governors in after years, were members of this
brave band. Joseph Habersham himself became famous afterwards, being
Postmaster-General in Washington's cabinet.
While these events were taking place the second Continental Congress
was framing the Declaration of Independence. George Walton, Button
Gwinnett, and Lyman Hall signed that great document for Georgia. Button
Gwinnett did not live to see Georgia's independence established, but
Lyman Hall and George Walton saw her take her place in the union. They
were honored with the highest offices of the state. There were many
other men who became famous on account of their activities for the
cause of liberty at this time. Chief among these were Lachlan McIntosh,
of whom Washington said, "I esteem him an officer of great merit and
worth:" Archibald Bulloch, James Jackson, David Emanuel, John Adam
Treutlen, Samuel Elbert, John Baker, John Wereat, and John Houston.
With the exception of a few unsuccessful expeditions against Florida
there was no fighting in Georgia until December, 1778. The people hoped
that the war would be fought elsewhere, but such was not to be. General
Prevost who commanded the British in Florida was ordered to invade
Georgia from the South. Colonel Campbell was sent by General Howe with
three thousand five hundred troops to attack Savannah. Colonel Campbell
landed December 27, 1778, and by a skillful flank movement drove a
small army of nine hundred patriots from their intrenchments near
Savannah and pursued them with such terrible slaughter that barely four
hundred escaped. Many were run down with the bayonet in the streets
of Savannah, almost within sight of their families. James Jackson and
John Milledge, both of whom were afterward governor of Georgia, were
among the number that escaped and while going through South Carolina to
join General Lincoln's army they were arrested by the Americans who
thought they were English spies. Preparations were made for hanging
them when an American officer came up who recognized them, and they
were set free. It was certainly a blessing to the state that these
men did not suffer an ignominious death for they rendered invaluable
service in after years by fighting the Yazoo Fraud.
[Illustration: CARPENTER'S HALL, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Chestnut, Between 3d
and 4th Streets.
The First Continental Congress Assembled Here September 5, 1774.]
The force of British from Florida captured Fort Morris and united with
the British force at Savannah. This combined force pressed on toward
Augusta. Ebenezer was captured. A force of patriots under the command
of Colonels John Twiggs, Benjamin and William Few, defeated the British
advance guard under the notorious Tories, Browne, and McGirth, but the
Americans' efforts were in vain and Augusta fell without a struggle.
The cause of liberty was crushed for a while. The royal governor was
restored to power, England could say that she had conquered one of her
rebellious colonies at least. But the spirit of liberty was not dead.
Colonels Elijah Clarke and John Dooly of Georgia, with Pickens of South
Carolina, nearly annihilated a band of plundering Tories at Kettle
Creek. This aroused the Georgians with renewed vigor. The British
hearing that a French fleet was coming to attack Savannah, began to
withdraw to that place. The British outpost at Sunbury was ordered to
retreat to Savannah. Colonel White with six men captured the entire
garrison of one hundred and forty men through strategy.
When the French fleet under Count d'Estaing arrived, General Lincoln
brought the Continental Army to assist in the recapture of the city.
The combined French and American force beseiged the city for three
weeks all in vain. Finally it was decided to attempt to take the place
by assault which resulted disastrously to the American cause. The
French and Americans were driven back having lost over eleven hundred
men, among them the Polish patriot, Pulaski, and Sergeant Jasper, the
hero of Fort Moultrie. The French fleet sailed away and General Lincoln
retreated to Charleston leaving Georgia once more completely in the
hands of the British.
Tories went through the state committing all kinds of outrages. Colonel
John Dooly was murdered in the presence of his family by a band of
Tories. The next day the same murderous Tories visited Nancy Hart,
a friend of Colonel John Dooly. Nancy overheard them talking of the
deed and she began to think of vengeance. She slid several of their
guns through the cracks of the log cabin before the Tories saw her.
When the Tories noticed her she pointed one toward them. One Tory
advanced toward her and was shot down. The others afraid, dared not
move. Meanwhile Nancy's daughter signaled for Nancy's husband who was
in command of a band of patriots that carried on guerilla warfare in
the neighborhood and on their arrival the Tories were taken out and
hung. Nancy Hart is the only woman for whom a county has been named in
Georgia.
After the fall of Charleston in 1780, Augusta was again occupied by
the British. Colonel Elijah Clarke collected a force to recapture the
place. His first attempt was unsuccessful September 14-18, 1780. He
retreated leaving thirty wounded men behind. The cruel Colonel Browne
hung thirteen and turned the others over to his Indian allies to be
tortured. It is worthy of note that John Clarke, son of Elijah Clarke,
was fighting with his father at this battle although he was only
sixteen years old. He afterwards became governor of Georgia and founder
of the Clarke party in Georgia. "Light Horse Harry" Lee, father of
Robert E. Lee, and General Pickens brought reinforcements to Clarke and
the combined force again besieged Augusta with renewed vigor May 15th,
June 5th, 1781. After much hard fighting Colonel Browne was forced to
surrender June 5th, 1781. On account of his cruelties he had to be
protected from violence by a special escort.
The British were gradually forced back into Savannah. When Cornwallis
surrendered, only four places were in their possession in Georgia.
In January, 1782, "Mad" Anthony Wayne came to Georgia to drive the
British out. He routed Colonel Browne, who had collected a band of
Tories and Indians at Ogeechee Ferry, after his exchange. The British
were hemmed in Savannah. Finally in May, 1782, orders came to the royal
governor from the king to surrender Savannah and return to England.
Major James Jackson was selected by General Wayne to receive the keys
of the city. They were formally presented by Governor Wright and Major
Jackson marched in at the head of his troops. The city was again in the
hands of the state after having been occupied by the British for three
and one-half years. The great struggle was over. Georgia was weakest of
the colonies and none had felt the hard hand of war any more than she.
The heroic deeds of her sons during that awful struggle are sources of
pride to every true Georgian.--Prize Essay by JULIUS MILTON, Nathanial
Abney Chapter.
UNITED STATES TREASURY SEAL.
The design of the seal of the treasury of the United States in all its
essential features is older than the national government. From the
days of the confederation of the colonies down through the history of
the republic the Latin motto on the seal has been "The Seal of the
Treasury of North America." These facts have just been developed, says
the _Newark News_, by an investigation by the treasury department
tracing the history of the seal. The Continental Congress ordered its
construction Sept. 26, 1778, appointing John Witherspoon, Gouvernor
Morris and R. H. Lee a committee on design. There is no record of the
report of the committee, but impressions of the seal have been found as
early as 1782.
The original seal was continued in use until 1849, when, worn out, it
was replaced by a new cut, made by Edward Stabler of Montgomery county,
Md. He was directed to make a facsimile of the old seal, but there
were some negligible differences. The symbols, however, are the same.
There are the 13 stars, representing the 13 colonies; the scales as the
emblem of justice and keys, in secular heraldry denoting an office of
state.
WILLIE WAS SAVED.
We had a Sane Fourth--I was not
Allowed to fire a single shot;
If I'd 'a made a cracker pop
I'd a' been hauled in by th' cop.
If me or any of th' boys
Had dared to make a bit o' noise
They would 'a slapped us all in jail
An' held us there till we gave bail,
An' so our Fourth, I will explain
Was absolutely safe an' sane.
Pa's feelin' better--'t least no worse,
I heard him tell th' new trained nurse,
He played golf nearly all th' day
With Mister Jones and Mister Shea
Until 'bout half past three o'clock
An' then he had an awful shock,
Th' sun was boilin' hot, an' he
Was playin' hard as hard could be,
An' he got sunstruck, but he'll be
Up in two weeks, or mebbe three.
Ma's conshus now. They think her arm
Ain't re'lly suffered serious harm,
Except it's broke. An' where her face
Got cut will heal without a trace,
Ma went out ridin' with th' Greens
"To view th' restful country scenes."
A tire blew up an' they upset--
They didn't have no landin' net!
Th' doctor says that sleep an' rest
For her will prob'ly be th' best.
My sister's better, too, although
They had to work an hour or so
To bring her to--she purt' near drowned
An' looked like dead when she was found.
She went to row with Mr. Groke
An' he--he says 'twas for a joke--
He rocked th' boat an' they fell out,
An' people run from miles about
To save their lives. She was a sight
When they brought her back home last night.
I wasn't hurt though, I'll explain,
Because my Fourth was Safe an' Sane.
--_Wilbur D. Nesbit._
VIRGINIA REVOLUTIONARY FORTS.
BY MRS. MARY C. BELL CLAYTON.
In a mental vision of that galaxy of stars which emblazon our national
flag, that bright constellation the thirteen original states, we pause
to select the one star which shines with purest ray serene, and as we
gaze upon the grand pageant from New Hampshire to Georgia and recall
the mighty things achieved by the self-sacrificing devotion of their
illustrious statesmen and generals with the united efforts of every
patriot, it is with admiration for all that we point with reverence
to that star which stands for her who cradled the nation, that infant
colony at Jamestown in Virginia, who made defense first against the
tomahawk of the Indians, growing stronger and stronger with an innate
love for truth and justice, 'till we hear the cry "Give me liberty
or give me death," which resounded from the White Mountains of New
Hampshire to the sunny lands of Georgia, and is echoed there in her
legend, "Wisdom, justice and moderation."
You, our sisters, the Daughters of the American Revolution of South
Carolina, whose state is strong in state craft and brave as the
bravest, and whose star shines as a beacon light in the constellation
of states, to those who would infringe on the rights of others, you
call to us, in your study of the defences of the revolutionary period,
to show our "Landmarks," the signs of our ancestor's devotion to
patriotism, that you with us, may reverence their loyalty and with
pride cherish every evidence of their struggle for liberty, remembering
always that "he who builded the house is greater than the house." We
would tell you of facts in the military annals of Virginia, deeds of
prowess, more enduring than memorials of stone, which have become the
sacred heritage of us all, but to these, at this time, our attention is
not to be given. And if we fail to show but a few of her strongholds,
you must remember that within the present bounds of Virginia there were
few important positions held against assault, and her "Northwestern
Territory" was far away from the main contest. Her troops were kept
moving from place to place, their defences often were not forts, but
earthworks, hastily constructed, often trees, houses, fences, etc. For
instance the first revolutionary battle fought on Virginia soil was at
Hampton, a little town between the York and James rivers.
"The Virginians sunk obstacles in the water for protection, but
during the night the British destroyed them and turned their guns
upon the town. In this fight we had no fire-arms but rifles to
oppose the cannons of the English, so when the attack began the
riflemen had to conceal themselves behind such meagre defences as I
have mentioned, houses, fences, trees, etc., opening fire upon the
British vessels. The men at the guns were killed and not a sailor
touched a sail without being shot. Confusion was upon the British
decks, and in dismay they tried to draw off and make escape into
the bay, but without success; some of the vessels were captured,
many men were taken prisoners, and the whole fleet would have been
captured but for the report that a large body of the British were
advancing from another direction."
Small was the defense, but great was the result at this first battle of
the Revolution on Virginia soil.
THE FORT AT GREAT BRIDGE.
"After the attack on Hampton, Lord Dunmore determined to make
an assault on Norfolk. He erected a fort at Great Bridge where
it crosses a branch of the Elizabeth river. This bridge was of
importance as it commanded the entrance of Norfolk. The Virginians
held a small village near by. At these points the armies were
encamped for several days ready for the moment to begin the fight.
In order to precipitate a contest, the Virginians had recourse to a
stratagem. A negro boy belonging to Major Marshall was sent to Lord
Dunmore. He represented himself as a deserter and reported that
the Virginians had only three hundred 'shirt men,' a term used to
distinguish the patriot, whose only uniform was a graceful hunting
shirt, which afterwards became so celebrated in the Revolution.
Believing the story, Lord Dunmore gave vent to his exultation,
as he thought he saw before him the opportunity of wreaking his
vengeance upon the Virginians. He mustered his whole force and
gave the order for marching out in the night and forcing the
breastworks of his hated foe. In order to stimulate his troops to
desperate deeds, he told them that the Virginians were no better
than savages, and were wanting in courage and determination, that
in all probability they would not stand fire at all, but if by any
chance they were permitted to triumph, the English need expect no
quarter, and they would be scalped according to the rules of savage
warfare. Early in the morning of December 9th, 1775, the Virginians
beheld the enemy advancing towards their breastworks. They were
commanded by Capt. Fordyce, a brave officer. Waving his cap over
his head, he led his men in the face of a terrible fire, which
ran along the American line, directly up to the breastworks. He
received a shot in the knee and fell forward, but jumping up as if
he had only stumbled, in a moment he fell again pierced by fourteen
bullets. His death threw everything into confusion. The next
officer was mortally wounded, other officers were prostrate with
wounds, and many privates had fallen. In this desperate situation
a retreat towards their fort at Norfolk was the only resource left
to the English. They were not allowed to escape without a vigorous
pursuit. It was conducted by brave Col. Stevens, who captured many
prisoners and ten pieces of cannon. The loss of the British was one
hundred and two killed and wounded. The only damage to our men was
a wound in the finger of one of them."
The British had built a fort for their defence, the Virginians had
breastworks.
FORT NELSON.
"During the Revolution Sovereign Virginia erected Fort Nelson to
resist Lord Dunmore, should he ever attempt to return to the harbor
of Norfolk and Portsmouth. It was named for the patriot Governor
Nelson, who gave his private fortune to aid the credit of Virginia,
and risked his life and sacrificed his health on the battlefields
of the American Republic. On account of its location it was never
the scene of any bloody battle, but like the 'Old Guard,' it was
held in reserve for the emergencies of war. On the 9th of May,
1779, a great British fleet, under Admiral Sir George Collier
entered Hampton Roads, sailed up Elizabeth river, and landed three
thousand royal soldiers under General Matthews in Norfolk County,
where Fort Norfolk now stands, to flank this fortification and
capture its garrison composed of only 150 soldiers. Maj. Matthews,
the American commander, frustrated the designs of the British
general by evacuating the fort, and retired to the northward. On
the 11th of May, the British took possession of the two towns, and
gave free hand to pillage and destruction. Sir George Collier,
after satisfying his wrath sailed back to New York. Varying
fortunes befell Fort Nelson during the remainder of the war until
the evacuation by Benedict Arnold, after which no British grenadier
ever paced its ramparts. After the close of the Revolution, it was
rebuilt and for many years was garrisoned by regular soldiers of
the United States; but since, abandoned as a fortification, it has
been a beautiful park and a home for sick officers and sailors of
our navy.
"The garrison of Fort Nelson, under the glorious stars and stripes,
on the 22nd of June, 1813, stood to their shotted guns, to meet the
British invaders, who were defeated at Crany Island, by our Capt.
Arthur Emerson and other gallant heroes. Here thousands of soldiers
marched in response to the call of Virginia in 1861."
In the naval park at Portsmouth, the site of Fort Nelson, there is
a monument whose granite body embraces a real Revolutionary cannon.
This gun was selected from a number of guns known to be of the period
of the American Revolution. It is believed that one, at least, of
these was mounted at Crany Island for the defense of Portsmouth and
Norfolk. The honor of erecting this monument is due to the ladies of
the Fort Nelson Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution
and to Admiral P. F. Harrington of the United States Navy, and also
Medical Director R. C. Person of the navy. It is said that with proper
care this gun will last centuries and "It will carry down to distant
generations a memorial of the patriots of the American Revolution, a
mark of the formation of a nation and the token of the later patriots,
the Daughters of the American Revolution, to whose efforts is due this
important national service to which the gun has been dedicated."
After these first assaults, for about three years of the war, there
was almost no fighting in Virginia, but during that term she was
furnishing her full quota of men, money and inspiration to the cause,
with devoted loyalty, assisting in the north and in the south, wherever
an attack was made. Directing her attention to the main army she
built no defences of any importance on her own territory east of the
Alleghanies. "The British success in the north and followed by still
more decided victories in the south. Thus later the English began to
look forward, with certainty, to the conquest of the entire country,
and as Virginia was regarded as the heart of the rebellion, it was
decided to carry their victorious arms into the state, as the surest
way of bringing the war to a speedy conclusion." We had no time, then,
for building forts, and when we recall the traitor Arnold's advance
on Richmond, with the two days he spent there destroying public and
private property--his taking of Petersburg, burning the tobacco and
vessels lying at the wharves, with Col. Tarleton's raids, scouring the
country of every thing; in fact all of Cornwallis' reign of terror,
which was soon to end in that imposing scene at Yorktown, we realize
truly that "the battle is not to the strong, nor the race to the
swift," but that a country's bulwark often are not forts and strong
towers, but her courageous heart, and her staunch friends, such men as
Lafayette, De Rochambeau, De Grasse and Steuben, who with Washington,
led the allied Americans and French forces at Yorktown, and besieged
the British fortification, the surrender of which virtually closed the
Revolutionary War on the 19th of October, 1781. The place is sacred,
their devotion reverenced.
FORTS OF THE NORTHWESTERN TERRITORY, KASKASKIA, CAHOKIA AND VINCENNES.
"While the communities of the sea coast were yet in a fever heat
from the uprising against the stamp act, the first explorers were
toiling painfully to Kentucky, and the first settlers were building
their palisaded hamlets on the banks of the Wautauga. The year
that saw the first Continental Congress saw also the short grim
tragedy of Lord Dunmore's war. The battles of the Revolution were
fought while Boone and his comrades were laying the foundation of
their Commonwealth. Hitherto the two chains of events had been
only remotely connected, but in 1776, the year of the Declaration
of Independence, the struggle between the king and his rebellious
subjects shook the whole land and the men of the western border
were drawn headlong into the full current of the Revolutionary war.
From that moment our politics became national, and the fate of
each portion of our country was thenceforth in some sort dependent
upon the welfare of every other. Each section had its own work
to do; the east won independence while the west began to conquer
the continent, yet the deeds of each were of vital consequence
to the other. The Continentals gave the west its freedom, and
took in return, for themselves and their children, a share of the
land that had been conquered and held by the scanty bands of tall
backwoodsmen."
Kentucky had been settled chiefly through Daniel Boone's
instrumentality in the year that saw the first fighting of the
Revolution, and had been added to Virginia by the strenuous endeavors
of Major George Rogers Clark of Albermarle, Virginia, whose far seeing
and ambitious soul prompted him to use it as a base from which to
conquer the vast region northwest of the Ohio. "The country beyond the
Ohio was not like Kentucky, a tenantless and debatable hunting ground.
It was the seat of powerful and warlike Indian confederacies, and of
cluster of ancient French hamlets which had been founded generations
before Kentucky pioneers were born. It also contained forts that were
garrisoned and held by the soldiers of the British king." It is true
that Virginia claimed this territory under the original grant in her
charter, but it was almost an unknown and foreign land, and could only
be held by force. Clark's scheming brain and bold heart had long been
planning its conquest. He looked about to see from whence came the
cause of the Indian atrocities on the whole American frontier, and
like Washington he saw that those Indian movements were impelled by
some outside force. He discovered that the British forts of Detroit,
Kaskaskia and St. Vincent were the centers from which the Indians
obtained their ammunition and arms to devastate the country. He
resolved to take these forts. "He knew that it would be impossible to
raise a force to capture these forts from the scanty garrisoned forts
and villages of Kentucky, though he knew of a few picked men peculiarly
suited to his purpose, but fully realized that he would have to go
to Virginia for the body of his forces. Accordingly, he decided to
lay the case before Patrick Henry, the governor of Virginia. Henry's
ardent soul quickly caught the flame from Clark's fiery enthusiasm,
but the peril of sending an expedition to such a wild and distant
country was so great, and Virginia's forces so exhausted that he could
do little beyond lending Clark the weight of his name and influence.
Finally though, Henry authorized him to raise seven companies, each of
fifty men, who were to act as militia, and to be paid as such. He also
advanced him a sum of twelve hundred pounds and gave him an order on
the authorities at Pittsburg for boats, supplies and ammunition; while
three of the most prominent gentlemen of Virginia, Thomas Jefferson,
George Mason and George Wythe, agreed, in writing, to do their part
to induce the legislature to grant to each of the adventurers three
hundred acres of the conquered land, if they were successful. Clark
was given the commission of colonel with the instruction to raise his
men from the frontier counties west of the Blue Ridge, so as not to
weaken the sea coast region in their struggle against the British." To
this instruction he did not strictly adhere. There was a company of
soldiers from Bedford County, Virginia, under his command, a list of
whose names are on our county records. Two of these are connections
of the mother of Mrs. R. B. Clayton, the regent of the Peaks of Otter
Chapter of Virginia Daughters, which facts enhance our pride and
interest in the capture of the western forts by Colonel Clark, which
perhaps, prevented a vast and beautiful region of our country from
being a part of a then foreign and hostile empire.
THE CAPTURE OF FORT KASKASKIA.
"Fort Kaskaskia, an old French fort of western Illinois, situated
on Kaskaskia River, and garrisoned by the British was, at the time
of its capture in splendid repair with a well drilled militia and
spies constantly on the lookout. Rochenblave, the commandant of the
fort, had two or three times as many men as Col. Clark, and would
have made a vigorous fight if he had not been taken by surprise.
Clark's force after the toil and hardships of much traveling across
rivers and tangled pathless forests, was much reduced, and it was
only his audacity and the noiseless speed of his movements, that
gave him a chance of success with the odds so heavily against him.
He ferried his men across the stream under cover of darkness and
profound silence. Inside the forts, lights were lit, and through
the windows came the sound of violins. The officers of the fort
had given a ball, the young men and girls were dancing, revelling
within, while the sentinels had left their posts. One of the men
whom Clark had captured, on his approach to the fort, showed him
a postern gate by the river side, through which he entered the
fort, having placed his men about the entrance. Advancing to the
great hall, where the revel was held he leaned silently, with
folded arms, against the door post, looking at the dancers. An
Indian lying on the floor of the entry suddenly sprang to his feet
uttering the unearthly war whoop. The dancing ceased, the women
screamed, while the men ran towards the door, but Clark standing
unmoved and with unchanged face, grimly bade them continue their
dancing, but to remember that they now danced under Virginia and
not Great Britain. At the same time his men seized the officers,
including the commandant, Rochenblave, who was sent a prisoner to
Williamsburg, Virginia."
Among his papers falling into the hands of Colonel Clark, were the
instructions which he had from time to time received from the British
Governor of Quebec and Detroit, urging him to stimulate the Indians to
war by the proffer of large bounties for the scalps of the Americans.
This shows of what importance the capture of this fort was at that
period, a defence against the scalping knife of the Indians as well as
the power of the British tyrant.
THE CAPTURE OF COHOKIA AND VINCENNES.
After the capture of Kaskaskia, without the shedding of a drop of
blood, Clark pushed on to the taking of fort Cohokia, where the French,
as soon as they were made to know that France had acknowledged the
independence of America, shouted for freedom and the Americans. Clark
then marched to fort Vincennes which, without the firing of a gun,
surrendered, and the garrison took the oath of allegiance to Virginia
July 19th, 1778. Very soon after this the British under Governor
Hamilton, left Detroit and recaptured Vincennes, only to be forced by
Clark to surrender it a second time in February, 1779, and to yield
himself a prisoner of war. The taking of this fort the second time was
a most remarkable achievement.
"Clark took, without artillery, a heavy stockaded fort, protected
by cannon and swivels and garrisoned by trained soldiers. Much
credit belongs to Clark's men but most belongs to their leader.
The boldness of his plan and the resolute skill with which he
followed it out, his perseverance through the intense hardship
of the midwinter march of two hundred miles, through swamps and
swollen rivers, with lack of force, the address with which he kept
the French and Indians neutral, and the masterful way in which he
controlled his own men, together with the ability and courage he
displayed in the actual attack, combined to make his feat the
most memorable of all the deeds done west of the Alleghenies in
the Revolutionary war. It was likewise the most important in its
results, for had he been defeated in the capture of these forts we
would not only have lost Illinois but in all probability Kentucky
also."
As it was "he planted the flag of the Old Dominion over the whole of
the northwestern territory, and when peace came the British boundary
line was forced to the big lakes instead of coming down to the Ohio,
and the State of Virginia had a clear title to this vast domain, out
of which were carved the states of Ohio, Illinois, Indiana, Wisconsin,
Michigan and a part of Minnesota." Virginia's share in the history of
the nation has been gallant and leading, but the Revolutionary war was
emphatically fought by Americans for America; no part could have won
without the help of the whole, and every victory was thus a victory for
all in which all alike can take pride--_American Monthly Magazine._
UNCROWNED QUEENS AND KINGS, AS SHOWN THROUGH HUMOROUS INCIDENTS OF THE
REVOLUTION.
One by one the years have dropped into the abyss of the past, since
the close of the war for American Independence. Time has spread his
brooding wings over the gulf and much of the horror and of the pathos
of that tremendous struggle is now veiled from us; yet we are still
perhaps too prone to remember only the dreadful in the events of the
war, too anxious to recall only the dark days, leaving out the traces
of cheerfulness which even in those troublous times, were experienced
here and there; for there were many incidents connected with the
American Revolution which were in lighter vein; incidents which did
not, it is true, abolish the gloom and the suffering, but which
lightened the sombreness and shed rays of glimmering light through the
shade.
It has always seemed to me almost incredible, that the Colonists
could have found anything to laugh at during those awful years. They
were threatened with absolute loss of liberty as a country; they were
menaced by starvation, and they were obliged to pass through the rigors
of the winters, without proper food or clothing. The sanctity of their
homes was invaded by the grim monster of war, who was no respecter
of persons, and to whose voracious palate all persons were equally
attractive.
If the British won their cause, the Colonists had nothing better to
which to look forward than slavery and injustice; if the colonists
won theirs, they must face the future poorly equipped in every way.
The waste of their country must be repaired, their desolate homes
must be rebuilt; their business, which was crushed, must be restored,
they must begin from the beginning. Whatever the result, the outlook
was dark. As the days went on, the husbands and fathers were obliged
to forsake their plows, and go, perhaps with but a moment's warning,
to bloody fields of battle. Poorly clothed, they fought in their
shirt sleeves and with their feet bare, their bloody foot prints often
standing out as symbols of the struggle. The women must remain at home,
to plow and sow and reap. The American soldiers must have spent many
sleepless nights thinking of their unprotected ones at home, alone and
defenceless. How could there be anything of humor connected with the
struggle? And yet, while the American Revolution can in no sense of the
word be said to have had its humorous side, yet there was much of humor
connected with many Revolutionary occurrences, the stories of which
have lived until the present time and have gained perhaps in their
humorous aspect since the close of the great struggle.
One of the first incidents of the war, which I have found to savor of
the humorous, was the meeting of General John Burgoyne and the Irish
patriot immediately after the surrender of the British General. All
through the march of the General, to Saratoga, he had boasted of the of
the calamities which he would bring upon the Americans. Pompously up
and down his quarters he would strut, composing high sounding sentences
and listening to the fine roll of his voice, revelling in his verbosity
and smiling with satisfaction at his thoughts which he deemed so great.
The manifestos which he issued so frequently, were words, words,
words, and these reiterated over and over again, the direful things
which would encompass the Americans, did they not surrender with all
haste and with becoming deference. He made himself ridiculous by the
manifestos, but he did not realize this until he made his way through
the streets of Albany, a conquered rather than a conquering hero, and
met a funny little Irishman, who had evidently studied the harangues of
the General to good purpose.
On the march through the Albany streets, Burgoyne was surrounded by
men, women and children, who would fain look upon the face of this
pompous British General. Suddenly in the crowded part of the street,
there bobbed up in front of him, a blue-eyed, red-haired Celt, his
bright eyes dancing with mirth and his tongue ready with the wit of his
mother country. "Make way there, ye spalpeens," he shouted, "sure don't
ye see the great Ginral Burgyne a comin' along? Sthand back fer the
great Ginral. Wud yees be standin' in the way of the conquerer? If ye
don't sthand back and give the great man room, shure I'll murther ivy
mither's son of ye."
History does not record how the boasting Briton received the onslaught
of the Irishman, but we can readily imagine that his face lengthened
a little, as he heard the laughs on every side. Still it is quite
possible that he did not see the joke until the following week.
Someway, that march of Burgoyne and his army, always struck me as
humorous to a certain extent. While there was the sadness caused by the
loss of many lives, and while the battle of Saratoga was one of the
great battles of the world, still Burgoyne himself, with his verbosity
and his pomposity, was so ludicrous a figure oft times, that he gave a
humorous tinge to the entire campaign.
The saying of General Starke at Bennington which has come down to us
with such pleasing patriotism: "Here come the Red Coats and we must
beat them to-day, or Mollie Starke is a widow," was not a humorous
saying, nor was the battle of Bennington a humorous incident. But Bill
Nye, the immortal, has written something exceedingly funny concerning
both. Nye said, "This little remark of Starke's made an instantaneous
hit, and when they counted up their prisoners at night they found they
had six hundred souls and a Hessian." Nye's description of Burgoyne's
surrender is well worth repeating. He wrote: "A council was now held in
Burgoyne's tent and on the question of renewing the fight, stood six to
six, when an eighteen pound hot shot went through the tent, knocking
a stylograph pen out of Burgoyne's hand. Almost at once he decided to
surrender, and the entire army of 6999 men was surrendered, together
with arms, portable bath tubs and leather hat boxes."
Nearly all of our American soldiers were brave; that goes without
saying. One of the bravest of these was Lieutenant Manning. His deeds
of prowess were many and great. He was hero in one extremely humorous
incident at the battle of Eutaw. After the British line had been
broken, the "Old Buffs" started to run. This particular regiment was as
boastful as General Burgoyne. Manning knew this and he was delighted
to follow hard after them with his platoon. Excited in his pursuit he
did not notice that he was getting away from his men, until he found
himself surrounded by British soldiers and not an American in sight.
Something must be done at once and Manning was the man to do it. He
siezed a British officer standing near, and much to that officer's
amazement he not only felt himself violently handled, but he heard the
stentorian voice of the American shouting--"You are my prisoner." His
sword was wrested from his grasp, and he was made a human shield for
this preposterously impudent American. But instead of making a break
for liberty, he began to relate his various titles to Manning. "I am
sir," he said, "Sir Henry Barry, Deputy Adjutant General of the British
Army, Captain in the 52d Regiment, Secretary to the Commandant of
Charleston."
"Enough Sir," said Manning, "You are just the man I have been looking
for. Fear nothing; you shall screen me from danger and I will take
special care of you," which he did, holding the astonished man of title
in front of him, until he reached the Americans and handed him over as
a prisoner.
Colonel Peter Horry was another brave man of the south. He was
afflicted by an impediment in his speech and at one time the impediment
nearly worked disaster for him. He was ordered to await in ambuscade
with his regiment for a British detachment, and he soon had them
completely within his power; but when he tried to command his men
to fire, his speech failed him. In vain he corrugated his brows and
twisted his jaws; the word would not come out. "Fi, fi, fi, fi," he
shouted, but could get no further. Finally in his desperation he
howled, "shoot, blank you, shoot. You know very well what I would say.
Shoot and be blanked to you." Horry was a determined character. At one
time in battle a brother officer called to him:
"I am wounded, Colonel." "Think no more of it, Baxter, but stand to
your post," called back Horry. "But I can't stand, Colonel, I am
wounded a second time." "Then lie down, Baxter, but quit not your
post." "Colonel," cried the suffering man, "they have shot me again,
and if I remain longer here I shall be shot to pieces." "Be it so
Baxter," returned Horry, "but stir not."
The part that women took in the Revolution has been sung by poets and
made the nucleus of writers' efforts for a hundred years and more.
Those Revolutionary women had brawn as well as brain. They were able
to defend their homes from the depredations of the Royalists; they
could bid the Indian begone, not only by word of mouth but at the
musket's end. They could plow and sow and reap; they could care for
their families and they could take up arms in liberty's cause if the
need arose. Oh, those women of the American Revolution! What a history
of bravery and fortitude and endurance they bequeathed to their
descendants! There is some humor, too, in the stories left to us in
record of their heroism.
It was the fashion among certain circles of Whig women, during the
dark days of the Revolution, to wear deep mourning as an indication of
their feelings. The black typified the darkness of the times and was
worn by the town ladies who could afford it. One of these ladies, a
Mrs. Brewton, was walking along Broad street in Charleston one morning,
when she was joined by an insolently familiar British officer. At that
very moment, the crepe flounce on her dress was accidently torn off.
She quickly picked it up and passing just at that time the house of
the absent Governor, John Rutledge, she sprang up the steps before
the astonished eyes of the officer and decked the door with crepe,
saying in ringing tones, "Where are you, dearest Governor? Surely the
magnanimous Britons will not deem it a crime if I cause your house as
well as your friends to mourn your absence." Colonel Moncrief, the
English engineer, was occupying the house at the time, and his feelings
were hurt at the action of Mrs. Brewton, as were those of the officer
who had been with her, and she was arrested a few hours afterward and
sent to Philadelphia.
One of the most marked women of the Revolution, a woman who figured
in many a ludicrous as well as serious incident, was Nancy Hart, of
Georgia. Nancy had a frightful temper, a big ungainly body, and she
suffered from a most marked obliquity of sight. In fact Nancy was
so cross-eyed, that her own children never could tell when their
mother was looking at them and were perhaps better behaved on that
very account. One time a party of Tories entered her modest home on
food intent. They had taken the precaution of providing food for
themselves, shooting Nancy's last remaining gobbler. Mrs. Hart had her
head muffled up and no one had noticed her cross-eyes. The soldiers
stacked their arms within reach and Nancy passed between them and the
table, assiduous in her attention to the diners. The party had a jug,
of course, and when they were becoming right merry, Nancy suddenly tore
the mufflers from her head and snatching up one of the guns, swore that
she would kill every last man who tried to get his gun or who delayed
in getting out of the cabin. The men looked at Nancy's eyes and each
man thinking she was aiming at him only, made a hasty and determined
exit. But the terrible woman killed three Tories that day with her own
hands. One day Nancy was boiling soap. As she industriously stirred,
one of her eyes caught a glimpse of a Tory peeking through a chink in
the cabin. Stirring busily away, Nancy kept one eye on the soap and
the other on the chink. When the spy again appeared she let drive full
at the chink, a good big ladle full of hot soap. A scream satisfied her
that she had hit the mark, and she finished her soap-making with great
satisfaction. This woman was termed by one of the patriots: "A honey of
a patriot, but the devil of a wife."
The Revolutionary woman's resources were indeed great, and the strategy
she employed was as satisfactory as it was many times humorous. A Whig
woman of New York State, a Mrs. Fisher, was one morning surprised by
the hurried entrance of a Whig neighbor, who begged of her to conceal
him as the Tories were pursuing him. Just outside her door was an ash
heap four or five feet high. Seizing a shovel, Mrs. Fisher immediately
excavated a place in the ashes and buried her friend in it. But first
she had taken precaution to place a number of quills one in the other
and extend them from the prisoner's mouth to the air, that he might
breathe, and there he remained snugly ensconced until the Tories had
come and gone, and even though they ran over the ash heap, they never
suspected what lay beneath it.
Equally resourceful was that woman of the Revolution, who when her
husband was pursued by Tories, hustled him down cellar and into a meat
barrel partially filled with brine and meat. The Tories went into the
cellar and even peered into the barrel, but they did not discover the
man, who at the risk of terribly inflamed eyes, ducked his head beneath
the brine, when he heard the soldiers' hands on the head of the barrel.
Inflamed eyes were easier to bear than imprisonment in the hands of the
British.
Bill Nye's description of the close of the war is as humorous as it is
correct. Nye wrote: "The country was free and independent, but oh, how
ignorant it was about the science of government. The author does not
wish to be personal when he states that the country at that time did
not know enough about affairs to carry water for a circus elephant. It
was heavily in debt, with no power to raise money. New England refused
to pay tribute to King George and he in turn directed his hired men to
overturn the government; but a felon broke out on his thumb and before
he could put it down, the crisis was averted and the country saved."
And so it goes; the sad and the humorous are blended on every side in
life's struggles either in war or peace. Fortunate is the man or woman
who can halt a little by the wayside and for a few moments laugh dull
care away.--Compiled from _Federation Magazine_.
A COLONIAL STORY.
A long time ago, before the hand of progress had stamped the land with
a net work of steel, or commerce and trade had blackened the skies of
blue, John Hamilton and Tabitha Thweatt were married. There was no
cutting of Dutchess satin or charmeuse draped with shadow lace, for it
took time in those days to prepare for a wedding. Silk worms had to be
raised, thread spun and woven into cloth before the bride's clothes
could be fashioned. Waiting was no bar to happiness; the bride-to-be
sang merrily while spinning or weaving at her loom and as the shuttles
went in and out her day dreams were inter-mingled with the weaving of
her wedding garments.
In the year of our Lord, 1770, the making of silk in the colonies was a
new industry and when Mistress Tabitha decided on silk for her wedding
dress she had to plant mulberry twigs and wait for them to grow. She
had to pick the leaves to feed the worms until they wrapped themselves
in their silken cocoons and as soon as the cocoons would web they were
baked to keep them from cutting the raw silk. It took one hundred
cocoons to make one strand of silk. After all these preparations
this colonial girl's dream of a silken wedding gown grew into a
realization. She not only raised the silk worms, but spun the silk
that they had webbed and wove it into shimmering cloth, from which her
wedding gown was made. She also knit her wedding stockings of silk; but
only one pair of silk went into her trousseau for the rest were knit of
cotton.
The family records say that this couple had no worldly goods except
what their own hands had wrought. They were God-fearing people of the
Puritan type. He felled the trees and sawed them into logs out of which
their home was constructed. The logs that went toward the building of
their home were mortised and pinned together with wooden pegs. The
floors were puncheon flat slabs split from whole tree trunks and the
doors and windows were made of oak and were swung on great wooden
hinges. The chimney was of "stick and dirt" and across the broad fire
place hung the crane from which were suspended the cooking utensils.
John Hamilton was a member of one of Virginia's most distinguished
families. He possessed an iron will that defied adversity; he blazed
the way through his state and was brave enough to "hew down forests
and live on crumbs." Mistress Tabitha was a help-meet to her pioneer
husband. She not only cooked his meals but carried them to him when
he worked in the field. He had the honor, and in those days it was
indeed an honor, to be elected as a representative from his state
to Congress. The frugal and beautiful Tabitha accompanied him to
Washington. Her preparation for the replenishing of her ward-robe was
quite as elaborate as those formerly made for her wedding. With deft
hands she carded from the snowy cotton piles of rolls that were spun
into thread and she wove many yards of cloth from which she made her
underwear. From carefully carded bats of cotton she spun many spindles
of fine smooth thread that was woven into fine cream cotton goods,
some of which were dyed with copperas. Some was spread day and night
on the grass where the dew would fall to bleach it. From the bleached
cotton this industrious woman made her dresses and the snowy whiteness
of some of her gowns was the envy of her neighbors. She also carried
in her little hair trunk to Washington, not only many well made cotton
garments, but was the proud possessor of one black silk dress and
two black silk aprons. The dress was afterward described as being so
heavy that it could "stand alone." Mistress Tabitha, although a little
overworked, was not too weary after reaching Washington to attend the
Presidential ball and dance the minuet with the gallant Washington and
the noted LaFayette.
John and Tabitha Hamilton had eleven children. All were born in
Virginia except one, who came after they moved to Hancock County,
near Sparta, Georgia, in 1791. Their home was destroyed twice by the
Tories and once by a Tornado. Mr. Hamilton had just completed a nice
dwelling for his family when the memorable tornado and cyclone passed
over that portion of Georgia in April, 1805. All of the family except
Jack and Everard were away from home. There was but one small house
left on the place, their new house having been blown away, none of
it left standing. Some of the doors were found six miles off in an
adjoining county. Clothing, books and papers were carried promiscuously
away. Jack was much bruised, having been struck by many things. His
booksack was blown away, and his "Ovid" was found forty miles over in
Baldwin County and returned to him. This book is now in possession of
one of his descendants. Everard was carried into the air and lodged in
a swamp about a quarter of a mile away, where he was caught up by the
whirl wind. Madame Hamilton took this misfortune as coming from God and
helped her husband to collect anew his scattered fortune. Later we read
of them as living on their plantation surrounded by their servants, who
ministered to their comforts and attended their broad fields.
In reading about the women who lived in the early days of Georgia,
their splendid lives stand as a beacon to the reckless and extravagant
ones of today. They not only spun the thread and wove the cloth used
in their homes, but they made all of the clothes their children wore,
and reared them to be God-fearing men and women. They visited their
neighbors for thirty miles away and extended a glad welcome and cordial
hospitality for any and every guest. One with impunity may ask the
question: "Are they pleased with their descendants, these women of
Georgia's pioneer days?"--MRS. J. L. WALKER, Lyman Hall Chapter, D. A.
R.
MOLLY PITCHER FOR HALL OF FAME.
The movement to place in the hall of fame a bust of Molly Pitcher, the
only woman sergeant in the United States army, has the enthusiastic
support of former Senator Chauncey M. Depew.
It was in the important movements of the year 1778 that at the battle
of Monmouth Molly Pitcher was carrying water to her husband, who was a
gunner of a battery at one piece of artillery. He was disabled and the
lieutenant proposed to remove the piece out of danger, when Molly said,
"I can do everything my husband could," and she performed her husband's
duties at his old gun better than he could have done.
The next morning she was taken before General Washington, her wonderful
act was reported and its influence upon the outcome of the battle,
which was a victory, and Washington made her at once a sergeant in the
army to stand on the rolls in that rank as long as she would.
It seems appropriate now for us to place among the immortals and
in the hall of fame this only woman sergeant of the United States
army, who won her title fighting for her country upon the field of
battle.--_National Magazine._
REVOLUTIONARY RELICS.
Great grandmother's spinning wheel stands in the hall,
That is her portrait there;
Great grandfather's sword hangs near on the wall,
What do you girlies care,
That in seventeen hundred and seventy-six,
One bitter winter's night,
When the air was full of sleet and snow,
And the kitchen fire burned bright.
He stood with a face so thoughtful and sad
With his hand on her hair,
"Asenath, I start at the break of day,"
Oh, that bride was so fair!
But country was dearer than home and wife,
Proudly she lifted her head,
"Go, David, and stay till is ended the strife,
God keep you, dear," she said.
Toward the loom in the kitchen she drew,
She had finished that day,
A beautiful blanket of brown and blue,
"Was it plaided this way?"
It was just like this but faded and worn,
And full of holes and stain,
When our soldier grandsire came back one morn,
To wife and child again.
When his eyes were dim and her hair was white,
Waiting the Master's call,
She finished this blanket one winter's night,
That hangs here on the wall.
And dreaming of fifty years before,
When she stood by that wheel,
And that cradle creaked on the kitchen floor,
By that swift and reel.
There's a rare old plate with a portrait in blue,
Of England's George the Third,
A porringer small and a stain shoe,
That five brave hearts has stirred,
There's an ancient gun all covered with rust,
A clock, a bible worn,
"Fox Book of Martyrs" and "Holy Wars,"
A brass tipped powder horn.
Great grandfather sat in that old arm chair,
Grandmother rocked by his side,
Till the Master called through the sweet June air,
They both went out with the tide.
--_Florence I. W. Burnham in American Monthly Magazine._
TRAGEDY OF THE REVOLUTION OVERLOOKED BY HISTORIANS.
BY T. H. DREHER, M. D.
Before the William Thompson Chapter, D. A. R., invaded this neck of
the moral vineyard and put its delicate, historical fingers upon the
tendrils of local happenings, there was no blare of trumpets over a
foul and bloody deed which occurred near the "Metts Cross-Roads," in
this county, during the Revolutionary war. But the gruesome case was
never without intense interest to those concerned in the episodes of a
past age. The strange and mysterious always throws an additional halo
over our heroes. This feeling is intensified, in this case, by virtue
of the fact that the same blood which ran in the veins of the victim of
the "cross-roads plot," now pulsates in the arteries of many lineal,
living descendants who are part and parcel of Calhoun County's sturdy
citizenship.
The malignant, cruel and cowardly feature of this dastardly crime,
garbed in a plausible and hypocritical cloak, make it unique, even in
the gory annals of criminal warfare and harks our memories back to the
murder of Duncan, King of Scotland. Here, as there, we have no doubt,
but that souls grew faint over the details of the foul conspiracy
and "their seated hearts knocked at their ribs" until spurred to
the "sticking place" by the evil eloquence of some overpowering and
unnatural genius, like unto Lady Macbeth. John Adams Treutlen (for that
was the name of our hero) is in his grave.
"After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well,
Treason has done his worst; nor steel nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further."
That is true. The cold pen of a true chronicler, however, must again
allude to the utter negligence and gross indifference of an earlier age
to a proper appreciation of significant events. That a noted Governor
of Georgia should be brutally done to death by revengeful Tories
because of the intense Whig fires which consumed his very soul; that
children, and children's children, should grow up around the scene of
his untimely taking-off, and still his home and his grave should be,
today, unidentified spots on the map of Calhoun County force us to
exclaim with Mark Antony: "But yesterday the word of Caesar might have
stood against the world. Now lies he there and none so poor to do him
reverence."
The salient facts in the life of Treutlen are interesting. Born in
Berectsgaden, 1726, as a German Salzburger, he was brought to this
country in a boat load of Salzburgers that landed at Savannah in 1734.
If early impressions count for anything, there is no wonder that the
spirit of liberty and independence sank deep into the very inmost
recesses of his soul. His father, along with thousands of other German
Protestants, was exiled by a fanatical decree of Archbishop Leopold,
which drove out from his domain all who would not accept the Catholic
faith. It was this Salzburger strain and religion which was unterrified
and unwashed, amid the raging tempests of an angry sea, while others
aboard, including John Wesley, trembled for life, and confessed to a
livelier awakening to the rejuvenating and sustaining power of God upon
frail humanity.
Some 25 miles from Savannah these brave and devout pilgrims, after
singing a psalm "set up a rock and in the spirit of the pious Samuel,
named the place Ebenezer (stone of help) 'for hitherto hath the Lord
helped us.'" Amid these crude but inspiring surroundings the young
Treutlen received a splendid education, for that day, under the strict
tutelage of his scholarly Lutheran pastors, Bolzius and Gronau. Thus
it was that, when the red gloom of impending war was already visible
on the distant horizon, and the Provincials had gathered at Savannah
to take steps against the high-handed measures of England, John Adam
Treutlen answered the roll-call from the Ebenezer country and was
one of its leading and most aggressive spirits. Thus it was that,
in the teeth of strong Tory influence and friends he espoused the
patriot cause with all the ardor of a Knight Templar, thus becoming
the chief object of Loyalist hatred and vengeance, his property being
confiscated, and his home, with many of its treasures, burned to ashes.
Elected first Governor of Georgia under an independent Constitution
by the Legislature, in 1777, there was not as yet the fearful carnage
and bloody battles which were still to come, and which were to make
the South and its manhood a synonym for courage and endurance the
world over. It is true that the immortal conflict on Sullivan's Island
had been fought and won, but Clinton and Parker, still hopeful under
drooping plumes, had shifted the scene to the North.
The "blue bloods" of the Palmetto State--with the exception of
Charleston's brave firebrand, Christopher Gadsden, were still
praying for that peace, borne of wealth, intelligence and
luxurious ease. Georgia, now perched upon the top-most round of
empire--pre-eminence--was then weak in its swaddling clothes and viewed
only as a promising child to be brought up in the aristocratic South
Carolina Sunday School. With a cool and calculating diplomacy which
smacked somewhat suggestively of the rising Talleyrand, we are told
that the gentle ripples on the waters little betokened the torpedoes
which were being laid beneath. Bludgeons, not the velvety hand of
artful diplomacy, were calculated to narcotize the grim-visaged ruler
of the satrapy across the Savannah, as all accounts agree that Treutlen
was a somewhat "stormy petrel," a sort of pocket edition of Oliver
Cromwell, the greatest civilized dictator that the world has ever
produced--who could rout a parliament of sitting members, lock the door
and put the key in his pocket.
And so it came to pass that, when the Governor heard of the so-called
"Machiavellian scheme" to annex his little kingdom to the great
Palmetto Commonwealth, by a coup d'etat, he pounded the floor viciously
with his "condemnatory hoof" and shot a fiery proclamation over the
official mahogany, denouncing the conspiracy in bitter vein and
offering a heavy reward for the chief emissary--Drayton. When the
Georgia patriot Government fell in 1779, Treutlen, along with hundreds
of others, took British protection and fled to St. Matthews Parish, in
the present County of Calhoun; and the road he travelled was a thornier
path than that from Jerusalem to Jerico with
"Injuns on the upper way,
And death upon the lower."
It is not for me to split fine hairs over the principle involved in
conditional agreements during the days of war, when every man is
showing his teeth and reaching at the throat of his enemy. Suffice
to say, that he chafed under the Tory bit and would have none of it.
A born fighter and a man of rugged individuality, it was impossible
for him to hug both sides of any fence. A dictator by instinct (and
by Georgia statute,) well educated, and fresh from the Gubernatorial
eiderdown he would naturally bring around his head swarms of bitter
enemies, in times of war, and he was a marked man. He met his doom on a
dreary night in 1780 under peculiarly atrocious conditions.
It is said that a small band of vindictive Tories went to his home
during that fateful evening, and enticed him out, on a treacherous
plea of surrender on certain plausible conditions. As he emerged from
his door, he was seized, and not only brutally butchered, but, (all
traditions agree,) literally hacked to pieces. The exact spot where
the fragments of his dismembered body were buried will probably never
be known. But there is every reason to believe that his bones rest in
the vicinity of his home, from the fact that his tenure of life in this
section was short; that he was without relatives beyond his family
circle, and those relatives continued to live in the neighborhood.
The mere fact that a Governor of Georgia could come here and be
brutally and foully murdered by Tories, in the heat of war passions,
and not a line recorded about it, in any South Carolina history or
newspaper bearing upon that period, should open our eyes to the danger
of swallowing the spurious pill offered to us by the Emily Geiger
exterminators.
But for the Georgia records and a straight line of descendants,
hereabouts, the Treutlen individuality and tradition would be tabooed
as a "myth" and fabrication from beginning to end. Through the laudable
efforts of the local D. A. R.--and particularly its regent, Mrs. F. C.
Cain--a "marker" has been promised from the quartermaster general's
office, Washington, D. C. It will stand in the vicinity of the "Metts
Crossroads" and will remind the passerby of as true and loyal a Whig as
lived during those perilous days.
Treutlen's general appearance, even in repose, as exhibited in an old
photograph now in the possession of a descendant, is interesting.
The orthodox military coat, unbottoned and spread abroad over his
shoulders, brings into bold relief a "dicky" shirt front, emerging into
a high and ferocious collar, which nestles snugly and smugly under
his lower jaws. There is a profuse shock of hair, futilely bombarding
an obstinate "cow-lick," the whole showing little or no subserviency
to comb and brush. His large, piercing eyes, fringed by shaggy brows,
with a drooping upper lid, produces a sad, if not sinister, aspect. The
nose has a Roman slant, which meets a bold, intellectual forehead in
an almost unbroken line. Marked cheek bones and a thin face ease down,
more or less hastily, to a sharp and angular chin. A pair of thin lips,
closely plastered to each other, bespeak firm determination; and his
whole contour impresses one, forcibly, that he was not a safe man to
take too many liberties with.
As intimated at the outset, there is an interesting ramification of
descendants from the Treutlen family, many of whom are still living in
Calhoun County. Some have gained prominence in Alabama, Washington, D.
C., and other places, but I will note only those of local (and some,
at least, of state-wide) interest. There were three sons and three
daughters: John Adam Treutlen, Jr., Christian, Depew, Mary, Elizabeth
and Hannah. Mary married Edward Dudley. From this union was born Mary
Dudley, who married Adam Amaker, February 10, 1820, and from the latter
was born Adam Perry Amaker, who married Augusta Zimmerman, and they,
in turn, were the parents of Perry and T. A. Amaker, now living--the
former of Denver, Col., and the latter a leading business man of St.
Matthews. Amanda Amaker (alive) married Major Whitmarsh Seabrook
Murray, of Edisto Island, who recently died here. They moved to this
place after the war and leave many descendants.
Elizabeth Treutlen, another daughter, married William Kennedy and from
them descended John W. Kennedy, who resided here for years, and now at
Tyron, N. C. His only daughter, Vernon, married Dr. A. McQueen Salley,
originally of Orangeburg, and a son of the present sheriff of that
county, now of Saluda, N. C. John Adam Treutlen, Jr., married Margaret
Miller. Their son, Gabriel, married Ann Connor and to them was born
Caroline Treutlen, who married Jacob Dantzler. Their son, Col. O. M.
Dantzler, of Confederate war fame, was the father of O. M. Dantzler,
the popular sheriff of Calhoun County, who recently died; Fred and
Thos. W., of St. Matthews; Mortimer O., of Orangeburg and Charles G.,
an eminent jurist (deceased.)
Rachael Treutlen, daughter of John Adam Treutlen, Jr., married the
Rev. J. J. Wannamaker, of St. Matthews. From this union were born Mary
Ann (who first married Joel Butler and later William Reeves) and W.
W. Wannamaker, deceased, who for many years was a leading physician
of this community, and who married Adelia Keitt. To the last couple
was born Agelina, who married the Rev. Artemus B. Watson, a well
known minister of the Methodist Church, who died recently. Their son,
Whitfield W. Watson, married May, daughter of the Hon. Samuel J.
Dibble, and a daughter Adele Watson, deceased, married A. C. Hane, Fort
Motte. Other children of Dr. W. W. Wannamaker were: John Keitt, who
married Chloe Watson, both dead. He bequeathed $20,000 for a Methodist
Church here. W. W. Wannamaker, a successful farmer of this community,
who married Lou Banks, deceased. A son bears the honored patronymic
of "Treutlen." Mary B. Wannamaker, deceased, who married Dr. W. T. C.
Bates, of St. Matthews, the well known ex-State Treasurer.
Emma C., a daughter of Rev. J. J. Wannamaker, married Dr. W. L. Pou,
an eminent physician of St. Matthews, now 84 years old, and who has
been actively practicing his profession for over 60 years. A daughter
of Dr. and Mrs. Pou, Emma, deceased, married A. K. Smoke, a prominent
and influential citizen of this town, while Blanche, another daughter,
is living, and the joy and pride of her aged parents. A son of Rev. J.
J. Wannamaker and Rachael Treutlen, his wife, was Capt. Francis M.,
deceased, a noted lawyer in his day, who married Eleanor Bellinger,
of Bamberg. From the last couple were born the following: Jennie B.,
who married J. B. Tyler, of Georgia, both dead; Mary B., deceased, who
married J. H. Henagan, of St. Matthews; Rachael Treutlen, who married
H. A. Raysor, a successful merchant and prominent citizen of St.
Matthews; J. S. Kottowe, a leading banker and merchant of St. Matthews,
who married Lillian Salley, of Orangeburg; Francis M., who married the
writer; William H., professor of German in Trinity College, N. C.,
who married Isabella Stringfellow, of Chester, and Olin M., professor
of English in the Alabama Polytechnic College at Auburn, who married
Katherine Hume, of New Haven, Conn.
JOHN MARTIN.
When quite a little boy in his home in Caroline County, Virginia, John
Martin adopted as his motto: "I will do my best." It helped him even in
childhood to have this motto, for whenever he had any difficult task to
perform, either at home or school, he remembered his motto and did his
best.
In his veins flowed the blood of a noble ancestry and many sterling
merited qualities helped him in the formation of a manly character.
He was born in 1751, amid turbulent scenes in Virginia, for the Indians
were frequently incited by the French to commit deeds of violence and
cruelty upon the English colonists, and in consequence of this, his
early impressions were of preparations for war. At a tender age John
witnessed the departure of his father, Abner Martin, to join Colonel
Washington on his way to Fort Duquesne. He saw him buckle on his sword
and sabre and mount his charger and set his face towards the Ohio
Valley. And after that parting he experienced some of the horrors of
war, for in the silent hour of night, the stealthy tread of the Indian
noiselessly approached the Martin plantation and applied the torch to
the barns and outhouses, and morning found them in ruins. He shared
the general feeling of uneasiness and insecurity that had settled down
upon the home circle in consequence of his father's absence, and his
grandfather's illness. His mother at this time was for him his tower
of strength, and his ark of safety, for she it was who devised means
for their protection and safety. As he grew older and thought upon
these stirring scenes, no wonder that his martial spirit was stirred
within him and that he resolved "some day I'll go too, and I can if I
do my best," and he did.
About 1768, the Martin family removed from Virginia to South Carolina
and settled at Edgefield. The sons were sent to Virginia to be
educated, and it was there that John formed a close personal friendship
for George Washington, which ripened with the coming years. When the
war for American Independence was declared, John Martin, and his
seven brothers, all officers, had his life's desire fulfilled, and
following the footsteps of his father saw service in the defence of
his country. He also served with distinction in the state legislature
and afterward was made General in command of the South Carolina state
troops. He married Elizabeth, the daughter of Colonel Nathaniel Terry,
of Virginia. Many years later General John Martin was on a visit to
his son Marshall Martin, in Meriwether County, Georgia at the time
when Georgia was called upon to furnish her quota of troops for the
war of 1812. John Martin was then 70 years old and still the fires of
patriotism were not extinguished nor the love of battle front subdued.
The talk of another war with England made him forget his years, and his
infirmities, and as his son Marshall recounted the probabilities of
renewed encounters, and spoke of his own enlistment, the old "war horse
sniffing the battle from afar," exclaimed excitedly, "My son let me go
in your stead."
After this visit John Martin returned to his Edgefield home, where he
died in 1820.
Boys and girls who would develop fine character must have high ideals
even in childhood. "Sow a thought and you reap a habit, sow a habit and
you reap a character, sow a character and you reap a destiny"--M. M.
PARK, David Meriwether Chapter, D. A. R., Greenville.
JOHN STARK, REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIER.
The victory of the little band of patriots at Bennington early in the
Revolutionary War made John Stark famous, and shortly afterward he
was christened "Old Bennington," first by the soldiers and then by
the American colonists generally. At the time of the victory Stark
was close to fifty years of age, and had had a long and distinguished
career as an Indian fighter.
In early life John Stark was a New Hampshire farmer, and in that
state he was born of Irish parents, and there he died in 1822, at
the advanced age of 94. His farm was located in the wildest part of
the forest country of New Hampshire, and Indian fighting was a hobby
with him. Several years prior to the Revolution he and his little
band of frontiersmen had succeeded in driving the Indians from their
neighborhood, so that they were no longer troubled with them. Then for
several years Stark settled down to the enjoyment of farm life. At
this vocation he continued until tidings reached him of the battle of
Lexington.
Promptly upon the receipt of this news he mounted his horse, and at the
head of several hundred of his neighbors, set out to join the Colonial
Army at Cambridge. Upon his arrival there he was appointed a colonel,
and in one day he had organized a regiment of 800 hardy backswoodsmen.
Then came the memorable Bunker Hill day. Stark and his men were
stationed a few miles away from the scene of this conflict, but in
full sight of both Bunker and Breed's hills. Seeing that a battle
was inevitable, he waited for no orders, but set out at once for the
ground, which he reached just before the conflict began. He led his men
into the fight saying: "Boys aim at their waistbands," an order that
has become historical.
In the heat of this action a soldier came to Stark with the report that
his son, a youth of 16, who was with him on the field had been killed.
"This is not the moment to talk of private affairs," was the grim
reply; "go back to your post."
As it proved, the report was false, and young Stark served as a staff
officer through the war.
After the patriots were compelled to evacuate Boston, Stark marched
with his regiment to New York, but was shortly directed to take part
in the ill-starred expedition against Canada. The retreating army
reached Ticonderoga on the 7th of July. Here on the following day the
Declaration of Independence reached the soldiers in the field and Col.
Stark had the satisfaction, on the scene of his former exploits, to
hear the proclamation read to his cheering troops.
Then Gen. Stark proceeded south to assist Washington and to gain his
full share of applause in the battle of Trenton. In March, 1777, he
returned to his native state to recruit the ranks of his regiment, and
while there news came to him that a new list of promotions had been
made in which his name was omitted, while younger officers had been
advanced in rank. This injustice he bitterly resented and resigned from
the army and retired to his farm.
But Stark was still the patriot and when the information reached him
that the enemy were moving south from Canada, and that Gen. St. Clair
had retreated and that Ticonderoga had been captured, New Hampshire
flew to arms and called for Stark to command her troops.
Stark was at Bennington when he learned that a detachment of six
hundred men under Col. Baum had been dispatched by Burgoyne on a
foraging expedition in that section, sending a party of Indians in
advance on a scouting raid. Upon learning of this Stark sent out
expresses to call in the militia of the neighborhood, he marched out to
meet Baum, who entrenched himself in a strong position about six miles
from Bennington.
This was on the 14th of August. A few miles out he met Lieut.-Col.
Gregg retreating, with the enemy close at hand. Stark at once halted
and drew up his men in order of battle. The enemy, seeing this, at
once stopped also and entrenched themselves. Thus the armies remained
for two days, contenting themselves with skirmishing, in which the
Americans had much the best of the game. Baum's Indians began to
desert, saying that "the woods were filled with Yankees."
On the morning of the sixteenth Stark prepared for an attack. Before
advancing he addressed his men with that brief but telling address
which has made his name historic: "There are the red coats; we must
beat them to-day or to-night Molly Stark sleeps a widow."
They beat them and "Molly" had the satisfaction of long enjoying the
fame that came to John, instead of wearing the widow's weeds. The
victory was decisive and by a band of raw militia, poorly armed and
without discipline, but led by one of the most fearless men of the
revolution.
Of the one thousand British soldiers engaged in this fight, not more
than a hundred escaped, and it was this victory of "Old Bennington"
which led ultimately to the surrender of Burgoyne at Saratoga. Col.
Baum, who was mortally wounded, said of the provisionals, "They fought
more like hell-hounds than like soldiers." Washington spoke of the
engagement as "the great stroke struck by Gen. Stark near Bennington"
and Baroness Riedessel, then in the British camp, wrote: "This
unfortunate event paralyzed our operations."
"Old Bennington" was a splendid type of the class of men who gave
success to the American Revolution. Congress, after Bennington,
hastened to repair its former action by appointing Stark a
brigadier-general, and he continued in the army till the end of the
war. He lived to see the country firmly established, and when he died
in 1822 he was buried on the banks of the Merrimac River at Manchester.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
BY GEORGE FITCH.
Benjamin Franklin was an ordinary man with an extraordinary supply of
common sense who flourished in the eighteenth century and is still
regarded as one of the finest of American products.
Franklin was born in Boston, but was one of the few Boston wise
men to succeed in getting away from that city. His family was not
distinguished and when he left Boston, after having run a newspaper
with more brilliance than success, no committee of city officials
appeared to bid him goodbye.
Franklin arrived in Philadelphia with enough money left to buy two
rolls of bread and paraded the town wearing one loaf under his arm and
eating the other. This successfully quarantined him from Philadelphia
society and he was enabled to put all his time into the printing
business with such success that he was sent to London in 1824 by the
governor to get a printing outfit. He worked for eighteen months in a
London printing house and was probably the most eminent employee that
London Journalism ever had, though England has not yet waked up to this
fact.
Franklin then returned to Philadelphia and purchased _The Gazette_,
which he began to edit with such success that he frequently had to
spend all day making change for eager subscribers. It might be well to
mention here that at this time he was only 23 years old, having been
born January 17, 1706, and having been a full-fledged editor at the
age of 15. Genius often consists in getting an early start and keeping
started.
At the age of 26 Franklin's "Poor Richard's Almanac," the sayings of
a wise old man, had the largest circulation of anything printed in
the Colonies, and people sought his advice on everything from love to
chicken raising. At the age of 31 he was a member of the Pennsylvania
Assembly. At 40 he had diagnosed lightning and had exhibited the first
electricity ever in captivity in a bottle, having caught it with a kite
string and a key. He had also charted the course of North American
storms, and explained the gulf stream.
Franklin helped the Colonies to declare their independence and secured
the treaty of alliance with France. At 79 he was elected governor of
Pennsylvania. At 82 he helped write the Constitution of the United
States. He also devised the American postal system. He died at the age
of 84, and Philadelphia is prouder of his tombstone than she is of the
Liberty Bell.
Through all his long and busy life Franklin never had time to dress
up and adopt the social usages of his day. But this did not prevent
him from dazzling the exquisite court of France at its most brilliant
and useless period. He was one of the few men who gave to the earth
more wisdom than he absorbed from it, but he never was a bonanza for
the tailors. Had he spent his youth keeping four tailors and three
haberdashers in affluence, Franklin relics would probably not command
the high price which they now do.
CAPTAIN MUGFORD RAN THE BRITISH BLOCKADE AND CAPTURED POWDER SHIP.
Had Great Britain made peace with the American colonies after the
British army had been driven from Boston, James Mugford would be a
popular hero today. But Great Britain continued the war for eight long
years, and so many heroes were made that the name of James Mugford,
"the world forgetting, and by the world forgot," was lost.
Mugford died in 1776. He and his 27 companions were attacked by 200
British marines. They fought most all night, and the British were
whipped, but the gallant captain was killed by a pike thrust.
The British under General Gage evacuated Boston, in March, 1776. The
British fleet remained behind in Boston to blockade the port. General
Washington hurried to New York with the main Colonial army to dispute
the proposed British landing there. General Artemas Ward was left
in command of a pretty sizeable American army around Boston; but
Washington had taken all the powder and most of the guns.
The Americans were at the mercy of the British ships, only the British
didn't know it. General Ward zealously guarded the fact that his powder
supply was nil, and planned to fill his magazines at the invader's
expense.
Accordingly two small ships, the schooners Hancock and Franklin, were
outfitted and ordered to sea for the purpose of capturing a supply
ship. Captain Samuel Tucker commanded the Hancock. James Mugford, a
citizen of Marblehead, Mass., was appointed master of the Franklin. His
vessel carried a crew of 21, including himself.
On May 7 Captain Tucker captured two brigs laden with valuable
supplies; but no powder. He took his prizes to Lynn. General Ward
communicated with Captain Mugford and explained to him the desperate
straits the army was fronting.
"I'll get some powder," said the short-spoken Marblehead. And he did.
The British ship Hope, carrying war munitions for the British, was due.
It had powder for the fleet. Captain Mugford heard of its expected
arrival and put to sea.
Almost within sight of the British fleet he met the Hope and captured
it. But how to land the prize? He didn't have men enough to take it to
Lynn or any other port very distant. The British fleet lay between him
and the American army in Boston.
Captain Mugford chose to run the British blockade and fight the whole
fleet of a dozen ships or more, if necessary. He put a few of his best
men aboard the Hope and made the British crew sail it. Then, in the
Franklin, he arrogantly sailed toward the British fleet and dropped a
few cannon balls its way.
The British were astounded. What could this crazy skipper mean by
attacking a fleet with one dinky little schooner? They would teach him
a lesson. The whole fleet maneuvered round to blow the Franklin off the
bay. Meanwhile the Hope sneaked in the harbor, and then Captain Mugford
outsailed the British fleet and got in himself. In the hold of the Hope
the Americans found 75 tons of powder and other war stores needed just
then more than men or gold. Mugford had made good his word.
Very naturally the British were angry. The admiral issued an order that
James Mugford was to be captured by any hook or crook and promptly
killed. Somebody told Captain Mugford about the order.
"Oh, piffle!" he said, or something like that. "I'll run by his derned
old fleet every day in the week and twice on Sunday if I want."
The Sunday following, May 19, 1776, Captain Mugford, in the Franklin,
with 21 men, and Captain Cunningham, in the privateer Lady Washington,
a vessel carrying seven men and a few small swivel guns, started to
puncture the British blockade again. They would have succeeded, but the
Franklin grounded. A flotilla of small boats from the fleet, carrying
200 well-armed men, started for the attack. Captain Cunningham refused
to leave his companion, so both he and Captain Mugford prepared for
battle.
It was a fiercely fought contest and lasted the better part of the
night. On May 20 General Ward made the following report of the
engagement:
"Captain Mugford was very fiercely attacked by 12 or 13 boats full of
men, but he and his men exerted themselves with remarkable bravery,
beat off the enemy, sunk several of their boats and killed a number
of their men; it is supposed they lost 60 or 70. The intrepid Captain
Mugford fell a little before the enemy left his schooner. He was run
through with a lance while he was cutting off the hands of the pirates
as they were attempting to board him, and it is said that with his
own hands he cut off five pairs of theirs. No other man was killed or
wounded on the Franklin."--_Kansas City Star._
GOVERNOR JOHN CLARKE.
Among the historical sketches penned by Miss Annie M. Lane for the
American Journal of History, that touching the life of Governor John
Clarke, received the highest award, and through the kindness of the
author we are permitted to reproduce it.
"Why are the dead not dead? Who can undo
What time has done? Who can win back the wind?
Beckon lost music from a broken lute?
Renew the redness of a last year's rose?
Or dig the sunken sun-set from the deep?"
I sometimes think there are more interesting things and people under
the ground than above it, yet we who are above it do not want to go
below it to get acquainted with them, but if we can find out anything
from the outside we enjoy it. In a previous article, I said there was
no spot in Georgia so full of buried romance as Wilkes County, and no
manuscript so fascinating as the musty and yellow old records of a
hundred years ago, which lie unmolested in our courthouse, especially
those of 1777.
One cannot but feel after reading these books that he has been face
to face with the grand old gentlemen of Revolutionary days: the men
who walked our streets with their ruffled shirts--three-cornered hats
and dangling swords--yet so different are they in personality and
character that the weaving together of their lives makes to me a grand
and beautiful fabric, "a tapestry of reminiscent threads." Some rich,
some dark and sombre in shade, making a background so fitting for the
crimson and purple and gold--for the conspicuous, inflaming color of
impetuous natures, toned down with characters as white and cool as the
snowflakes which fall upon our Southern violets.
You have but to close your eyes to the scene of today to recall
ex-Governor Talbot, Governor Matthews, General Clarke, together with
Jesse Mercer, Mr. Springer and Duncan C. Campbell, who were familiar
figures once upon the streets of Washington.
In the painting of character sketches we would not do the individual
justice if we did not remember his environments, and above all his
inherited nature, for are we not all bound by heredity? My last sketch
was of Jesse Mercer, now it is of John Clarke. How striking the
contrast. The life of Jesse Mercer was as quiet and majestic as was his
nature. John Clarke just three years his senior, born and reared at no
great distance had a life of adventure. He was the son of our stalwart
General Elijah Clarke and his wife, Hannah, and was the youngest
soldier whose name appears upon the roster of Kettle Creek, being 13
years of age. (Battle of Kettle Creek, 1779, John Clarke, born 1766.)
I will refer you to history to convince you of how his whole nature
was fired by the blood within his veins, inherited from both mother
and father. He came of fighting stock in a fighting age! In "White's
Historical Collections of Georgia," there is an account of the life of
Hannah Clarke, who survived her husband, Elijah Clarke, twenty years,
dying at the age of 90 (in 1829.) The burning of her house by a party
of British and Tories is recorded, and the turning out of herself and
children while General Clarke was away.
When General Clarke was so desperately wounded at Long Cane in
Carolina, she started to him and was robbed of the horse on which she
was riding. On one campaign she accompanied him and when she was moving
from a place of danger, the horse on which she and two of her younger
children were riding was shot from under her. Later, she was at the
siege of Augusta. All this time General Elijah Clarke's right hand man
was young John. Being reared in the army, this boy became wild and
impetuous; by nature he was intense, so when cupid's dart entered his
heart it was inflamed as deeply with love as it had been with hatred
for the British. His love story ends with Meredith's words, "Whom
first we love, we seldom wed."
About four miles from the hill on which the little battle of Kettle
Creek was fought, there lived an orphan girl, the stepdaughter of
Artnial Weaver, and the youngest sister of Sabina Chivers, who married
Jesse Mercer. John Clarke loved this girl, but there was opposition to
the union. But as yet not knowing the meaning of the word defeat, he
induced her to elope with him.
It was his thought to take her to the home of a friend of his father's,
Daniel Marshall, near Kiokee, but the weather was severe, and a
snowstorm set in. They were compelled to stop at a farm house where
lived the mother of Major Freeman (related to Dr. S. G. Hillyer.) Miss
Chivers was taken ill that night with congestion of the lungs, and
died. In the absence of flowers the good woman of the house adorned
the dead girl with bunches of holly, entwined them in her beautiful
black hair and placed them in her clasped hands. The grave they covered
with the same beautiful crimson and green holly, upon which the snow
recently fell. This was the first real sorrow in the life of John
Clarke and many were to follow.
To some the years come and go like beautiful dreams, and life seems
only as a fairy tale that is told, yet there are natures for which this
cannot be. Some hands reach forth too eagerly to cull life's sweet,
fair flowers, and often grasp hidden thorns. Feet that go with quick,
fearless steps are most apt to be wounded by jutting stones, and alas!
John Clarke found them where 'er he went through life's bright sunlight
or its shaded paths, these cruel, sharp piercing thorns; those hard,
cold, hurting stones.
We next see John Clarke just before he enters into his political
life. From "The History of Wilkes County," in our library, I copy the
following, viz: "Micajah Williamson kept a licensed tavern in the town
of Washington--on record, we find that he sold with meals, drinks as
follows: Good Jamaica spirits, per gill, 2d; good Madeira wine, per
bottle, 4s 8d; all white wines, per battle, 3s 6d; port, per bottle,
1s 9d; good whiskey and brandy, per gill, 6d & C. & C. at that time a
shilling was really 22c., a penny 7-5 of a cent."
In front of this tavern was a large picture of George Washington
hanging as a swinging sign. John Clarke used to come to town, and like
most men of his day got drunk. They all did not "cut up," however,
as he did on such occasions. He went into stores and smashed things
generally, as tradition says, but he always came back and paid for them
like a gentleman. Once he came into town intoxicated and galloped down
Court street and fired through the picture of General Washington before
the tavern door. This was brought up against him later when he was a
candidate for governor, but his friends denied it.
Soon after this he married the oldest daughter of Micajah Williamson,
while Duncan C. Campbell married the youngest.
The stirring events which followed we have all learned in history, how
the state was divided into two factions, the Clarkeites and those for
Crawford and Troup. The state was so evenly divided that the fight was
fierce. The common people and owners of small farms were for Clarke,
the "gentry" and well-to-do educated folk for Crawford, and sent him
to the United States Senate. Clarke and Crawford from youth had been
antagonistic. Clarke, while uneducated, was brilliantly intelligent,
but deeply sensitive. Crawford was polished and of courtly bearing,
a man of education, but was very overbearing. Had he lived today our
public school boy would say "he was always nagging at Clarke." Be
that as it may, it was nip and tuck between them in the gubernatorial
campaign. Clarke fought a duel with Crawford at High Shoals, and
shattered his wrist. Later he tried to get Crawford to meet him again,
but he persistently refused. One ugly thing to me was the horsewhipping
of Judge Tate by Governor Clarke on the streets of Milledgeville, then
the capital. This did Clarke no good.
General Clarke twice defeated Mr. Troup for governor. Troup was at
last elected, defeating Matthew Talbot, who was on Clarke's side in
1823. General Clarke was defeated by Talbot himself. There is never
an article written about Clarke that his bad spelling is not referred
to. Not long ago I read in a magazine published in Georgia that Clarke
spelled coffee "kaughphy." This is not true, that honor belongs to
Matthews, another one of the familiar figures once on the streets of
Washington. Even the best educated of our Revolutionary heroes did not
spell correctly as we call it, from George Washington down.
I rather enjoy their license for I think English spelling is a
tyrannical imposition. After the defeat of Clarke the tide was against
him. Many untrue things were said about him and they cut him deeply. He
was misunderstood often, and in chagrin he left the state.
Rise, O Muse, in the wrath of thy rapture divine,
And sweep with a finger of fame every line
Till it tremble and burn as thine own glances burn
Through the vision thou kindlest wherein I discern
All the unconscious cruelty hid in the heart
Of mankind; all the limitless grief we impart
Unawares to each other; the limitless wrong
We inflict without need, as we hurry along
In this boisterous pastime of life.
Beneath the rough exterior there never beat a kinder heart than that
in the breast of John Clarke. Although he had the brusque manner of a
soldier of Revolutionary days, with those he loved he was as tender
and gentle as a child. On one occasion soon after his first election
to the governorship of Georgia there was a banquet given in his honor.
The decorations on the white linen of the table were wreaths of holly,
thought to be very beautiful and tasty. When the governor entered with
his friends he stopped stock still in the doorway turning deathly pale.
He ordered every piece of holly dashed from the window. The occurrence
was spread far and wide all over the state and criticism ran high,
and even his friends disapproved of the uncivil act of one in his high
station. He never made an explanation until years afterwards.
Memories with him did not die, though beneath the ashes of the silent
past. If he might call them dead, and bury them, it seems they only
slept, and ere he knew, at but a word, a breath, the softest sigh, they
woke once more and moved here as he thought they would not evermore.
Clarke owned large tracts of land in Wilkes county (before it was cut
up into other counties.) One deed is made to Wylie Pope in 1806. He
reserves twenty feet where his two children are buried, Elijah Clarke
and George Walton Clarke. Leaving Georgia he settled in Washington
county, Florida, on the shores of the beautiful "Old Saint Andrews."
Here he entertained his friends and here he spent the last ten years of
his life within the sound of the restless, surging waters of the gulf.
October 12th, 1832, Governor Clarke passed from this life, and eight
days later his wife joined him in the Great Beyond. They were buried
near the seashore in a beautiful grove of live oaks, and a marble shaft
erected over them bears the following inscription:
Here reposes the remains of
John Clarke
Late Governor of Georgia
And
Nancy Clarke
His Wife
(NORTH FACE OF MONUMENT)
John Clarke
Born Feb. 28th, 1760
Died October 12th, 1832
As an officer he was vigilant and brave
As a statesman energetic and faithful
As a father and friend devoted and sincere.
(WEST FACE)
This monument was erected by their surviving children, Ann
Campbell and Wylie P. Clarke.
Not far from the monument are two little graves with flat slabs and the
following inscription:
Erected to the memory of John W. and Ann W. Campbell.
Ann Hand
Born January 24th, 1823
Died Sept. 3rd, 1829
Marcus Edwin
Born Feb. 25th, 1831
Died Feb. 3rd, 1833
"Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven."
Seventy-five years have passed and the once beautiful spot is now
desecrated. The oaks are cut, the tombstones are broken, and the grave
of Georgia's governor is trespassed upon in a shameful manner. However,
overshadowing his tomb, and keeping guard is a holly tree in all its
beauty, filled with long waving wreathes of Spanish moss, and no doubt
it whispers to the passing breeze that hurries on to ocean, the story
of a lost love!
Aye, what is it all if this life be all
But a draught to its dregs of a cup of gall,
A bitter round of rayless years,
A saddened dole of wormwood tears,
A sorrowful plaint of the Spirit's thrall
The graves, the shroud, the funeral pall
This is the sum, if this life be all.
PARTY RELATIONS IN ENGLAND AND THEIR EFFECT ON THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION.
(A paper read before the Ralph Humphreys Chapter, Daughters of the
American Revolution, of Jackson, Mississippi, by Dr. James Elliott
Walmsley, professor of history in Millsaps College.)
George Eliot says somewhere that all beginnings are make-believes.
Especially is this statement found true in attempting to trace the
origin of the American Revolution. Every cause assigned is at once seen
to be the effect of some more remote cause, until one might go back
step by step to the liberty-loving ancestors of the early Saxons in
their forest home of Northern Germany. Without undertaking any work so
elaborate it is the purpose of this study to show the effects of one of
these causes.
All free governments have developed parties, but as the word is used at
present true political parties in England did not arise till after the
wars of the Puritans and Cavaliers in the seventeenth century. The men
who migrated to America, with the exception of the aristocratic element
that located largely in the South between 1640 and 1660, were of the
party who believed in restricting the power of the king, and were
opposed by the party who professed implicit faith in the divine right
of kings. By the time of the accession of William of Orange the former
party was recognized by the name of Whigs, while the loyal devotees of
regal infallibility were called Tories.
The first king of the Hanover line, George I, was seated on his throne
through a successful piece of Whig politics, so admirably described
by Thackeray in Henry Esmond, and his government was conducted by a
Whig minister, Robert Walpole, assisted by a Whig cabinet. The power
remained in the hands of a few families, and this condition, which
amounted to an aristocratic rule of "Old Whigs," lasted down to the
accession of George III, in 1760. The new king, who was destined to be
the last king in America, was not like his father and grandfather, a
German-speaking prince who knew nothing of England and her people, but
one who gloried in the name Briton. Brought up by his mother with the
fixed idea he should never forget that he was king, his ambition was
to restore the autocratic power of William I. or Henry II. To attain
this end he set himself to overthrow the Whig party and so recall to
favor the Tories, who had by this time given up their dreams of "Bonnie
Prince Charlie" and Stuart restorations.
This misguided monarch, who was a model of Christian character in
private life, but who in the words of a great English historian,
wrought more lasting evil to his country than any other man in its
history, determined first to overthrow William Pitt, the elder,
the greatest statesman that the English speaking race has ever
produced--that man who sat in his room in London and planned campaigns
in the snow covered mountains of Silesia and the impassable swamps of
Prussia, on the banks of the Hugli in India and on the Plain of Abraham
in Canada, in the spicy islands of the East Indies and the stormy
waters of the Atlantic, who brought England from the depths of lowest
dejection to a point where the gifted Horace Walpole could say in 1759,
"We must inquire each morning what new victory we should celebrate."
This great man was overthrown by the king in 1761, and there came into
power the extreme Tory wing, known as the "king's friends," whose only
rule of political guidance was the royal wish. These men, led by the
Earl of Bute, followed the king on one of the wildest, maddest courses
that English partisan politics has known.
At this point we must pause and examine the constitution of the
British Empire. England, Scotland, and Wales were governed by their
own Parliament, but so defective was the method of representation that
villages which had formerly flourished but had now fallen into decay
or even like Old Sarum, were buried under the waves of the North Sea,
still returned their two members to Parliament, while important cities
like Manchester, Leeds, and Birmingham, which had grown up in the last
hundred years, were entirely unrepresented. The Whigs in England,
as least the New Whigs, the progressive element, were contending for
the same principle of representation that inspired the Americans. In
addition to the home-land, England ruled, as colonies, Ireland, the
Isle of Man, the Channel Islands, sea fortresses, such as Gibraltar and
Malta, Asiatic possessions, including in India an empire twenty times
as populous as the ruling country, Canada, Jamaica, the Barbadoes,
the Thirteen Colonies, etc. Our own thirteen colonies, which were
not united among themselves and which were not different in the eyes
of an Englishman from any other of the colonies, formed a small part
geographically of the empire and had for their peculiar distinction
only the larger proportion of English residents.
Furthermore, the modern idea of governing colonies for the welfare of
the colonies had not yet been invented. A colony was considered as a
farm or any other wealth producing piece of property. Adam Smith's
epoch-making work, "The Wealth of Nations," the first serious attempt
to discuss Political Economy, was not published till 1776, and in his
chapter on colonies he for the first time proposed the doctrine of
removing restrictions and allowing to colonies free trade and free
government. It is significant of the contentions of this article that
Adam Smith's book was at once read and quoted in Parliament by the
leaders of the Whigs, especial attention being given to it by the young
William Pitt, who was described by an enthusiastic Whig as "not a chip
of the old block but the old block itself."
With this preliminary statement we can take up the course of party
relations. One of the first distinctively party acts of George's
reign was the Stamp Act passed against the active opposition of the
Whigs; and the downfall of the Grenville ministry and the accession
of the Marquis of Rockingham, the Whig prime minister, marked by the
repeal of this act in 1766. In the next year, however, the Rockingham
ministry fell, and Townshend, the moving spirit in the succeeding
administration, carried through the series of acts that led directly to
the Boston Tea Party and its momentous results.
Finally when George III, who openly proclaimed himself a Tory,
succeeded in becoming supreme in the government, he called into office,
in 1770, Lord George North, who for twelve years was the king's tool
in carrying out a policy which he disliked. It was only his "lazy good
nature and Tory principles," which led him to defer to the king's
judgment and advocate the doctrine, in a far different sense from the
present meaning of the words, that "the king can do no wrong." From
this day it was natural that the Whigs in opposition should oppose the
government measures and should identify the cause of free government
in America with that in England and that every New Whig should become
an enthusiastic supporter of the American contentions. In fact George
and the Tory party realized that if the American theory of taxation
conditioned on representation prevailed it would be necessary to yield
to the demand of the New Whigs for reform in the representation in
England.
This fact explains some intricate points in the politics of the time.
It shows for instance why we fought a war with England and then in
securing a treaty of peace conspired with our enemy, England, to wrest
more favorable terms from our ally, France. We fought a Tory England,
but Lord North's ministry fell when the news of Yorktown came, and we
made a treaty of peace with a whig England, and the Whigs were our
friends. The Whigs in Parliament spoke of the American army as "our
army," Charles Fox spoke of Washington's defeat as the "terrible news
from Long Island," and Wraxall says that the famous buff and blue
colors of the Whig party were adopted from the Continental uniform.
Even the "Sons of Liberty" took their name from a phrase struck out
by Colonel Barre, the comrade of Wolfe at Quebec, in the heat of a
parliamentary debate.
Illustrations of this important point might be multiplied, but it may
be better to take up more minutely the career of one man and show how
the conflict of Whig and Tory politics affected the actual outcome of
the struggle. Lord George Howe was the only British officer who was
ever really loved by the Americans, and there is to-day in Westminster
Abbey a statue erected to his memory by the people of Massachusetts.
After his death at Ticonderoga in 1758 his mother issued an address
to the electors of Nottingham asking that they elect her youngest son
William to Parliament in his place. William Howe, known in American
history as General Howe, considered himself as the successor of his
brother and as the especial friend of the Americans. When war was
threatened in 1774 he told his constituents that on principle the
Americans were right and that if he were appointed to go out against
them he would as a loyal Whig refuse. Of course this was a reckless
statement, for an officer in the army can not choose whom he will
fight. He was put in supreme command in America when General Gage was
recalled, but was directed by his government to carry the olive branch
in one hand. That he obeyed this command, which was to his own liking,
even too literally, is easily established.
There is one almost unwritten chapter in American history which I would
like to leave in oblivion, but candor demands its settlement. Our
people were not as a whole enthusiastic over the war, in many sections
a majority were opposed to it, those who favored it were too often
half-hearted in their support. Had the men of America in 1776 enlisted
and served in the same proportion in which the men of the Southern
States did in 1861, when fighting for their "independence," Washington
would have had at all times over 60,000 in his army. As a matter of
fact there never were as many as 25,000 in active service at any one
time, the average number was about 4,000, and at certain critical times
he had not over 1,000. General Knox's official figures of 252,000
are confessedly inaccurate, and by including each separate short
enlistment make up the total enlistment for the six years, sometimes
counting the same man as often as five times. At the very time when
Washington's men were starving and freezing at Valley Forge the country
people were hauling provisions past the camp and selling them to the
British in Philadelphia.
Much more might be said, but enough for a disagreeable subject. No
careful historian to-day will deny that considering the lack of
support given to Washington and his army, the Revolution could have
been crushed in the first year, long before the French alliance was
a possibility, had the English shown one-half the ability of the
administration in the recent South African War. Among the causes
assignable for this state of incompetence the political situation
deserves more attention than it has hitherto been given.
No one has ever explained Howe's inexcusable carelessness in letting
Washington escape after Long Island, no one can explain his foolish
inactivity during the succeeding winter, except by the fact that Howe
was a Whig, his sympathies were with the Americans, the Whigs had said
repeatedly that the Americans could hold out against a good army and it
seemed now that they were helping fulfill their own prophecy.
It is rarely stated in our American histories that Howe was
investigated by a committee of Parliament after his evacuation of
Philadelphia, that he was severely condemned for not assisting Burgoyne
and for not capturing Washington's starving handful of men at Valley
Forge, that Joseph Galloway, the noted American loyalist, who was a
member of the first Continental Congress, openly accused him of being
in league with a large section of Whigs to let the Revolution go by
default and to give America its independence, and that immediately
after his return to England he resumed his seat in Parliament and spoke
and worked in opposition to the king and in behalf of the Americans.
The case of General Howe is typical and can be duplicated in the other
departments of the government. The leading Tory ministers claimed that
the rebellion would have failed but for the sympathy in the House of
Commons, and this charge was made in the very House itself.
It would be a gross exaggeration to say that our Revolution was merely
the result of a party quarrel in England, but the unfortunate party
attitude of King George III. certainly was one of the most potent
causes of trouble, and the progress of the war reacted most strongly on
the party situation in England. When William Pitt, the younger, at the
age of twenty-five took into his hands the premiership of England in
December 1783, he did it as the representative of the English people,
and the revolution which began in this country was completed in the
English Parliament. Up to 1776 the history of America and England
flowed in the same channel, Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Pitt are ours
as much as England's, and it should always be remembered that just
when the countries were in the act of separating the system of George
III. was shaken off and shattered by the free people of the two great
Anglo-Saxon powers, and the Whig statesmen of England could join with
their party friends in America in welcoming a new self-governing people
to the council of nations.--_American Monthly Magazine._
EARLY MEANS OF TRANSPORTATION BY LAND AND WATER.
The facilities for conveniently carrying persons or property from
one place to another affects in a measure the physical welfare of
every human being, and all progressive nations desire to secure the
advantages to be derived from the best systems of transportation. This
country of ours has tried many experiments and been rapidly benefited
in the results obtained. It hardly seems to us possible, in this day
of improved and rapid travel, that the entire system of transportation
is still in the transition state, and in some parts of the country the
very expedients which we have tried, improved upon and cast away, are
at present in use. But our topic deals with other days than these, and
we must hasten back to the beginning of things here in America.
According to Indian tradition, it is believed that within a brief
period prior to the discovery of America by Columbus, the Indians had
travelled over a large portion of the country between the Atlantic and
Pacific Oceans, and were familiar with the topographical features of
the continent. Their frequent wars and their long continuance in the
hunter state, made them necessarily a migratory race and their pathways
were the first trails for the white settlers when they came. When we
travel over crooked roads and even crooked streets in our towns, how
many of us stop to think that we are travelling the same road as blazed
out for us by an Indian or trodden down for us by an early settler's
straying cow?
As the Indian, as a guide through the almost impenetrable forests
was of great aid to the early settlers, so also was the canoe of the
Indian a great service. Of course the white man crossed the ocean in
larger boats, but when it came to travelling from point to point,
after reaching America, the lighter craft of the Indians was the only
possible means of water travel, for the numerous falls or rapids, and
the frequent portages between distinct water systems, made the use
of a heavy boat impossible. These canoes were of birch bark, buffalo
skin, stretched over wooden frames, or even large trees felled, the
trunk cut into sections and split, then hollowed out by burning first
and the ashes scooped out with the hands or pieces of shell, until
the sides and bottom were reduced to the utmost thinness consistent
with buoyancy and security. The method of propelling these canoes was
usually by paddle, but some had sails. The size varied from twelve feet
to forty feet in length, and they were capable of carrying from two to
forty men. Of course the larger canoes were used principally for state
occasions, military purposes, or when large stores of supplies were to
be transported.
One old historian tells of the way the sails were used. The Indian
stood in the bow of the canoe and with his hands held up two corners
of his blanket, and the other two corners were either fastened to his
ankles or simply placed under each foot, while in the stern of the
canoe, the squaw sat and steered. The scheme was an ingenious one and
must have been a grateful change to the poor squaw, who otherwise would
have had to propel the canoe by means of the paddle.
Of the Indian canoe Longfellow says:
The forest's life was in it,
All its mystery and its magic,
All the lightness of the birch tree,
All the toughness of the cedar'
All the larch's supple sinews;
And it floated on the river
Like a yellow leaf in Autumn,
Like a yellow water lily.
On account of the dense forests and the difficulty experienced in
penetrating them, the early settlements were upon the banks of streams
and consequently the water channels and seaports, for communication
between the various settlements, as well as with the mother country,
were a necessity and the very first legislation with regard to
transportation related to boats, canoes and landings. It was a long
time before any internal development of the land took place, because
these waterways formed the main reliance for all movements of persons
or property. Each of the thirteen original colonies had one or more
seaports and the main current of trade, during the colonial period,
and in fact up to much later times, was between these ports and the
interior districts on the one hand, and the outer world and the ocean
on the other. Commerce between the colonies was limited and all
movements from one colony to another were by various kinds of sea going
vessels. All the boats subsequently built by the European settlers
showed the influence of the Indian canoe. The raft was another method
of the Indian for transporting property, and from this grew the various
kinds of floatboats. The raft itself is still in use but more as a
means of transporting the lumber of which it is composed than as a
means for carrying other freight.
For land travel, when the Indians had burdens to carry they did it by
means of the burden strap, an arrangement of leather bands which fitted
around the forehead and was lashed to a litter borne upon the back. It
was usually about fifteen feet in length and braided into a belt in the
center, three or four inches wide. This carrying of burdens upon the
back is the one method of transportation which combines the greatest
amount of human effort with the least practical effect. But it was at
the time the only method available and formed one of the most serious
privations and discomforts of savage life.
It is recorded in the case of a white man, who helped the Indians in
one of their wars, early in 1600, that he was wounded and could not
walk. Thereupon he was placed in a basket of wicker work, doubled up,
and fastened with cords until he could scarcely move, and so carried
upon the backs of Indians for several days.
In winter we are told they had some sort of primitive sledges, and they
used dogs in some sections. Then, of course, they had the snow shoe,
which, to them, was a rapid way of travelling, but when the poor white
explorers or captives travelled with the Indians on winter expeditions,
they suffered sharply until they caught the hang of it. Chilblains were
not the worst of the suffering, for the tie over the instep and the
loops over the toes caused friction, and bleeding, frozen feet were the
result.
When the white man came, he, in time, brought horses and these were
much appreciated by the Indians, who seemed to know intuitively how
to manage and use them. In place of carrying burdens upon his own
back, the red man fastened one end of his tent poles to the horse and
fastened upon them the skins which composed his tent, and allowed the
poles to trail upon the ground. This support furnished a method of
transporting baggage, household effects and even women and children
vastly superior to the old way.
The old trails of the red man, over which for many years they had
traveled with their peculiar but rapid walk, now furnished bridle paths
for the white man and his horse, and many of those bridle paths are
today in use. Of course, the first sturdy settlers walked these trails
as did the Indians, and we have the history of one journey of Governor
Winthrop, when he was carried, at least over streams, "pick-a-pack"
upon the back of an Indian. This is a very human, if undignified,
picture of the worthy governor.
An early explorer in Virginia said that had she "but horses and
kine and were inhabited with English, no realm in Christendom were
comparable to it." As these blessings were all added to Virginia in
course of time, we must believe her the fairest of colonies. As the
Indians were too poor to buy the carefully guarded horses of the early
settlers, and could not steal them, they were compelled to wait until
races of wild horses were developed from the horses brought to Florida,
Mexico and California by the Spaniards. The better grade of horse
was used by the warrior and for travel, but the poorer horses for the
drudgery and were quite naturally called "squaw ponies." In the early
days before the carriage was introduced, wounded or sick persons were
carried upon stretchers between two horses.
The early means of transportation on land, in the colonies, was by
horseback, for either persons or property, and this was the universal
method of travel until nearly the beginning of the 19th century. It was
a common custom for the post rider to also act as a squire of dames,
and sometimes he would have in charge four or six women travelling
on horseback from one town to another. It was to the north that the
carriage came first, and in the early days only the very wealthy
families had them. And with the coming of the carriage, the colonists
realized that they needed something better than an Indian trail or
bridle path, and the agitation for good roads had its birth. One can
form some idea of what the so-called roads must have been in 1704,
when we read that the mail from Philadelphia to New York "is now a
week behind and not yet com'd in." The mail after 1673 was carried
by horseback between New York and Boston, but as late as 1730, the
postmaster was advertising for applications from persons who desired to
perform the _foot_ post to Albany that winter. The route was largely up
the Hudson river on skates. In 1788 it took four days for mail to go
through from New York to Boston in good weather--in winter much longer.
The commerce between the settlements on the coast and those in
southwestern Pennsylvania and western Virginia was carried on by pack
horse. The people in these districts sent their peltry and furs by pack
horse to the coast and there exchanged them for such articles as they
needed in their homes and for work upon their farms. Several families
would form an association, a master-driver would be chosen and the
caravan move on its slow way to the settlement east of the mountains.
Afterwards this pack horse system was continued by common carrier
organizations.
The earliest legislation in reference to highways was in the
Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1639, providing for supervisors, and the
relaying of the roads so as to be more convenient for travel, with
authority to "lay out the highways where they may be most convenient,
notwithstanding any man's property, or any corne ground, so as it
occasion not the pulling down of any man's house, or laying open any
garden or orchard." The law in force in Pennsylvania, prior to the
grant to Penn was part of the system established for the New York
Colony in 1664. In 1700 a revision of existing road laws was made,
giving control of county roads to county officials, but the king's
highway and public roads to be controlled by governor and council.
The fact appears that while the early roads in the American colonies
were bad, England had few, if any, good roads, and the improvement,
when begun, was so rapid that driving for pleasure was introduced here
long before it was known in England. In fact, the idea was carried back
to England by officers who fought in the Revolution.
When stage coaches were started in the colonies in 1718, from Boston
to Rhode Island, there was no wagon road over this route, it not being
built until 1721. It was a common thing for the passengers of the early
stage coaches to have to get out, and help lift or push the stage coach
out of the mud, and the objection raised to this was the reason for the
introduction of the corduroy road. If one has had the doubtful pleasure
of riding over a short portion of such road, one knows that it was a
question whether long stretches of it and being shaken around in the
coach like peas in a pod, was much improvement over being dumped out
into the mud, while the coach was lifted out of the mire with which
the old roads were padded. With the development of stage routes, came
bridges, ferries, turnpikes and national roads. As the passengers and
light baggage were carried by stage, the freight traffic was carried on
by the old time teamsters, with their huge wagons, with six or eight
horses attached to each, and moving along the turnpikes, traveling
together for company and protection. These turnpikes presented a
bustling appearance, with the dashing stage coaches, parties on
horseback, the long trains of teamsters' huge wagons, and the many
taverns that lined these thoroughfares. The passenger on the stage
coach had time to study nature and his surroundings as he passed along,
and to be fortunate enough to secure the box seat with the stage driver
and hear, as one rode along, the gossip of the route, made a joy one
does not experience in our days of rapid travel.
Following the institution of national roads and staging, came the
introduction of canals and artificial waterways, as a means of
transportation for freight in the carrying on of commerce. A short
canal, for the transporting of stone, was built in Orange County, New
York, as early as 1750. The first public canal company was the James
River Company, incorporated in 1785. From that time on there have been
vast improvements in methods and much of our freight is moved by means
of the large canals all over our country.
The next development in transportation facilities was the railroad,
the first of which was the "Experiment" railroad built to carry stone
to Bunker Hill Monument. Oliver Evans, in 1772, began to experiment
upon the construction of a steam carriage to run upon the ground, but
it remained for John Stevens to combine the steam carriage and the
railway. The first rail cars, or coaches, were run by horse power. It
is interesting to read Mr. Evans' prediction, which is as follows:
"I do verily believe that the time will come when carriages propelled
by steam will be in general use, as well for the transportation of
passengers as goods, travelling at the rate of fifteen miles an hour,
or three hundred miles per day." In 1813 he predicted that the time
would come when a traveller could leave Washington in the morning,
breakfast at Baltimore, dine at Philadelphia and sup at New York, all
in the same day, travelling "almost as fast as birds fly, fifteen to
twenty-miles an hour."
In 1811, Robert Fulton, journeying by stage to Pittsburgh, said, "The
day will come, gentlemen, I may not live to see it, though some of you
who are younger will probably--when carriages will be drawn over these
mountains by steam engines at a rate more rapid than that of a stage on
the smoothest turnpike."
A howl of protest went up from the old stage drivers when the
railroad was projected, but as every public necessity had its will,
the railroads had come to stay. There were many accidents on these
primitive roads, and these were made the most of by the opposition. One
old stager said, "You got upset in a stage coach, and there you were.
You got upset in a rail car--and where are you?"
From trail in the days of the Indians to T-rail of recent years seems a
slow, tedious advance, but as some one has said:
"When we reflect upon the obstinate opposition that has been made by
a great majority to every step towards improvement; from bad roads to
turnpikes, from turnpikes to canals, from canal to railways for horse
carriages, it is too much to expect the monstrous leap from bad roads
to railways for steam carriages at once. One step in a generation is
all we can hope for."--CLARA D. PATTERSON, _Easton, Pennsylvania_.
COLONEL BENJAMIN HAWKINS.
BY MRS. J. L. WALKER, _Waycross_.
Colonel Hawkins, patriot, soldier, United States senator and Indian
agent, was born August 15, 1754, in the county of Butts, now Warren
County, North Carolina. He was the son of Colonel Philemon and Delia
Hawkins. He attended Princeton College until his senior year when the
institution was closed on account of the Revolutionary War.
His knowledge of the French language led Washington to press him into
service as a member of his staff to act as interpreter with the French
allies. He was one of the founders of the Society of Cincinnati in 1783.
He was a gallant Revolutionary soldier, having participated in several
important engagements, among the number the Battle of Monmouth. After
North Carolina ratified the federal constitution he was elected United
States Senator from that state, taking his seat in 1790. At the close
of his term in the senate he was appointed agent of the three great
Indian tribes east of the Mississippi and entered upon his duties in
the part of Georgia now known as Crawford County, but at that time
called "The Agency Reserve."
This place became an important trading post and was selected by Colonel
Hawkins as a convenient locality for the transaction of duties that
devolved upon him. He infused progression, activity and thrift into the
little village. Mills, workshops, and comfortable homes appeared on
every side.
"Colonel Hawkins brought his own slaves from his old home in North
Carolina, and under the right conceded to his office, he opened and
cultivated a large plantation at the agency, making immense crops of
corn and other provisions."
"While he lived his cattle brand was rigidly respected by the red men;
although soon as his death, if reports be true, the Creeks, oblivious
of former obligations, stole numbers of his cows and hogs."
To him does the state of Georgia owe a debt of special gratitude. He
not only risked his life for the state of his adoption, but preserved
the history of the Creek country, some of which is most valuable and
interesting.
The French general, Moreau, who in exile, was his guest for some time,
was so much impressed with his character and labors, that he pronounced
him one of the most remarkable men he met in America.
Colonel Hawkins possessed great adaptability and through his
beneficence he acquired the respect of the Indians. It is said he
gained their love and bound them to him by "ties as loyal and touching
as those of old feudal allegiance and devotion."
He was closely associated with Generals Floyd, Blackshear and John
McIntosh, and Governors Troup, Mitchell and Early.
The Indians of Chehaw were closely allied to Colonel Hawkins. They
frequently furnished him with valuable information in regard to the
treachery of the British and the unfriendly Indians.
It has been conceded to some of our patriots that they were great in
war. Benjamin Hawkins was not only great in war, but, like Washington,
was great in peace. It was he who most strongly advocated terminating
the War of 1812. He knew well how to approach the "children of the
forest." The simple and diplomatic way in which he addressed the
Indians is displayed in his quaint letter to the Ammic-cul-le, who
lived at the Indian town of Chehaw:
"The time is come when we are to compel our enemies to be at peace,
that we may be able to sit down and take care of our families and
property without being disturbed by their threatening and plundering of
us.
"General Blackshear is with you to protect and secure the friendly
Indians on your river, and to aid in punishing the mischief-makers. Go
you to him; see him; take him by the hand, and two of you must keep
him. You must point out sixty of your young warriors, under two chiefs,
to be with, and act under the orders of the general till you see me. He
will supply them with provisions and some ammunition.
"You must be very particular about spies. You know all the friendly
Indians, and all who are hostile. If any spies come about you of the
hostiles, point them out to the general. And your warriors, acting
with the general must be as quick and particular as his white soldiers
to apprehend or put to death any enemy you meet with. Your warriors
will receive the same pay as the soldiers in the service of the United
States.
"Tell your women and children not to be afraid,--that friends have come
for their protection, and that I am at the head of the Creek warriors.
"I am your friend and the friend of your nation."
Colonel Hawkins was closely identified in the negotiation of the Treaty
of Peace and Friendship with the Indians. His name, together with
George Clymer and Andrew Pickens, was signed as commissioners on the
part of the United States to the Treaty held at Coleraine, in Camden
County, Georgia, March 18, 1797.
A treaty of limits between the United States and the Creek nation of
Indians, was held near Milledgeville, at Fort Wilkinson, on the part
of the United States. The signers were Benjamin Hawkins and Andrew
Pickens. This treaty was signed by forty chiefs and warriors. Treaty
with the Creeks at the agency, near Flint River, on November 3, 1794,
signed by Hopoie Micco and other Indians, also bore Hawkins' signature.
"In 1802 Colonel Hawkins recommended the establishing of a fort and
trading post on the Old Ocmulgee Fields." The right to establish such
a post was obtained by the Fort Wilkinson treaty. Colonel Hawkins
selected a site on an eminence near the river where the city of Macon
now stands. A tract of one hundred acres of land was set apart for the
use of the post.
Fort Hawkins was built in 1806 and was garrisoned by troops from Fort
Wilkinson early in the following year. The fort was named in honor
of Benjamin Hawkins, one of the few honors bestowed upon him by the
state he had so ably served. "This fort was considered one of the most
formidable on the frontier. Two block houses, each twenty-eight feet
square with two stories and a basement were built with heavy mortised
logs. This place was provided with port holes for both cannon and
musketry, and stood at the southeast and northwest corner of a strong
stockade. During the war of 1812 the fort was a strong point for the
mobilization of troops."
Colonel Hawkins died at the agency in Crawford County, June 6, 1816,
and was "buried on a wooded bluff overlooking the Flint River." The
little graveyard that served as a last resting place for those who
lived around the agency has long since been abandoned. The unmarked
grave of a patriot is there, sleeping unhonored amid the tangled vines
and weeds.
GOVERNOR JARED IRWIN.
Jared Irwin was born in Mecklenburg, N. C., in 1750, about two years
after his parents arrived from Ireland. They emigrated from Mecklenburg
County, N. C., and came to Burke County, Georgia, when Jared was seven
years old. Years afterward Jared moved to Washington County.
He was a faithful soldier in the Indian wars, serving as a
Brigadier-General in the Georgia Militia. In the Revolutionary War he
served as Captain and afterwards as Colonel, fighting in the siege of
Savannah and Augusta and in the battles of Camden, S. C., Briar Creek,
Georgia, Black Swamp, and others.
Just after the first siege of Augusta, in 1780, Colonel Williamson was
placed in command of Colonel Clarke's forces and on April 16th, 1781,
he led them to Augusta and fortified his camp within twelve hundred
yards of the British works. Here Captain Dun, and Captain Irwin with
the Burke County men, joined him, where they guarded every approach
to Augusta for nearly four weeks, never for a moment relaxing their
vigilance, but waiting impatiently for the promised assistance from
General Greene.
At last, the militia, destitute of almost every necessity of life,
wearied of their hard service, and giving up all hope of aid,
determined to return to their homes. The encouragement of Colonel
Jackson roused their drooping spirits, inspired them with hope and
courage, and saved them from tarnishing the laurels they had already
won. The militia afterwards nobly did their part in all the fights
around Augusta.
Jared with his three brothers John, William, and Alexander, built a
fort in Washington County known as Fort Irwin, which was used as a
defence against the British and with his private money he equipped his
company of soldiers for the war.
Jane, the Governor's youngest child, received a claim through our great
members, Alexander H. Stephens and Robt. Toombs, in the United States
Congress, to the amount of ten thousand dollars for money expended by
her father in the defence of his section of the country in time of the
Revolutionary War.
Jared Irwin represented Washington County in the Legislature and was
President of the State Senate at different times from 1790 to 1818. He
was in the Convention for revising our Constitution in 1789, and was
president of the body which revised it in 1798. At the close of the war
of Independence he was a member of the Legislature that convened under
our present form of government.
In 1796, the Legislature assembled in Louisville, then the Capitol of
Georgia, and on the second day of the session, January 17th, he was
elected Governor. The Legislature at once took up the Yazoo Act over
which the State was greatly excited.
A committee of investigation pronounced it not binding on the State on
account of the fraud used to obtain it. James Jackson introduced a bill
known as the "Rescinding Act." This was at once passed by both houses
and signed by Gov. Irwin, Feby. 13th, 1796.
It was resolved to burn the papers of the Yazoo Act and thus purge the
records of everything relating to it. So on Feby. 15th, 1796, wood was
piled in front of the State House, and, in the presence of Gov. Irwin
and both branches of the Legislature, fire was kindled by the use of a
lens and the records and documents were burned "with a consuming fire
from heaven."
After the death of General James Jackson, United States Senator,
Governor Milledge was elected to fill his place by the Legislature
at an extra session held in June, 1806, and in September following
tendered his resignation as Governor. In this way, Jared Irwin,
President of the Senate, again became Governor, and when the
Legislature met in November he was elected to that office for a full
term, thus filling the Governor's chair from the 23rd of September,
1806, to the 7th of November, 1809.
His administration as Governor was distinguished for justice and
impartiality. The spotless purity of his character, his affable
disposition, his widespread benevolence and hospitality, made him
the object of general affection. To the poor and distressed he was
benefactor and friend.
In every position of public life, as a soldier, a statesman and a
patriot, the public good was the object and the end of his ambition,
and his death was lamented as a national calamity.
Governor Irwin married Isabella Erwin, his cousin, and they had four
children, Thomas, John, Elizabeth and Jane. Thomas was among the nine
in the first class that graduated from the University of Georgia on
Thursday, May 31st, 1804, and had a speaker's place at Commencement.
Jane the youngest child, lived and died an old maid; she said she would
not marry for fear that the Irwin name might run out. She was spirited,
a good talker, and affable in her manner, a patriotic, whole-souled,
noble woman.
Governor Irwin died on March 1st., 1818, at the age of sixty-eight and
was buried at his home at Union Hill, in Washington County.
In 1856 there was an appropriation by the Georgia Legislature to
erect a monument to his memory; and in 1860, a Committee consisting
of Colonel R. L. Warthen, Captain S. A. H. Jones and Colonel J. W.
Rudisill, was appointed to select a site for same. It was decided to
erect the monument in Sandersville, Ga., the county site of Washington
County; and here it still stands on Court House square--a shaft of pure
white marble--a gift from the State to the memory of her noble son who
gave his life, love and ability to his beloved _Georgia_, "Empire State
of the South."--Governor Jared Irwin Chapter, D. A. R.
EDUCATION OF MEN AND WOMEN OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION.
BY MRS. DEB. RANDOLPH KEIM.
_Regent Berks County, Reading Pa., Chapter and Honorary Vice-President
General, D. A. R._
Again you are assembled to do honor to the memory of George Washington,
Commander-in-Chief of the Continental armies during the war for
Independence, this being the one hundred and seventy-ninth anniversary
of his birth.
The first steps to the establishment of a school of systematic
education of young men was William and Mary College, of Williamsburgh,
the capital of Virginia, in 1617, twenty-six years before the
foundation of Harvard in Massachusetts. But the character of the former
was not granted until 1693, or fifty years after. The first common
school established by legislation in America was in Massachusetts, in
1645, but the first town school was opened at Hartford, Conn., before
1642, and I feel proud to say I graduated from this same school over
two hundred years later, then known as the Hartford Latin Grammar
School and later Hartford Boys' and Girls' High School.
The only established schools of higher learning in America after
William and Mary in Virginia and Harvard in Massachusetts for the
education of young men later prominent in the Revolution were: St.
John's, Annapolis, Md., 1696; Yale, New Haven, Conn., 1701; University
of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, 1740; Princeton, N. J., 1746; Washington
and Lee, Lexington, Va., 1749; Columbia, New York, 1754.
Only the sons of men of means could avail themselves of these
advantages. Therefore the great mass of those who became more or less
prominent picked up whatever they knew as best they could. In Virginia,
Patrick Henry, Washington and others had the limited opportunity and
means of the old "Field or Plantation School" which was the only road
to the rudest forms of knowledge. These were generally taught by men
of fair education, but adventurous life, who were paid by the planters
within a radius of eight or ten miles.
A notorious pedagogue, by the suggestive name Hobby, celebrated in
Virginia annals for the brisk coercive switching of the backs of his
"boys" as the most effective road to knowledge, is made famous in
history as the rudimentary educator of the great man whose beginning of
life's journey dates from this day. Washington's parents having removed
from the place of his birth when a child resided within a journey of
thirteen miles of the despotic jurisdiction of Hobby, and thither the
boy walked or rode daily except Sundays in all kinds of weather, even
being obliged to row across the Rappahannock River to Fredericksburg,
where this vigorous applier of the ferrule held forth.
At eleven years, the death of Washington's father put an end to even
this limited supply of "schooling." But the young man fortunately had
a mother who was one of the few educated women of that period. We
learn from a primitive record that Mary Ball, the name of Washington's
mother, was educated by a young man graduated from Oxford, England,
and sent over to be assistant to the rector of the Episcopal parish in
which she lived. At the age of fifteen she could read, write and spell.
In a letter preserved she wrote to a young lady friend: "He (her tutor)
teaches Sister Susie and me and Madame Carter's boy and two girls. I am
now learning pretty fast."
It was Governor Berkeley who, in a letter to his friends in England,
boastingly "thanked God that there were no schools and printing in
Virginia."
Washington was always methodical, and what he undertook was done
well. This trait he inherited from his mother, as she was a woman
worthy of imitation. From her stern disciplinary character and pious
convictions her son learned self-control and all the characteristics of
address and balance, which carried him through the most intricate and
discouraging experiences of his career.
The tastes of Washington in childhood were instinctively military; all
his amusements pointed that way. At twenty-one his first mission to
the French at le Boeuf, fixed his career as a fearless man of action.
The rescue of Braddock's Regulars from destruction by the savages was
his baptism of fire; the rest, a manifestation of human greatness put
the stamp of military prowess upon him. Virginia furnished more of
the leaders of the first rank in the contest with the Crown than any
other one colony, and yet some of the men who contributed most to the
incisive work of the conflict had few opportunities of education.
For instance, Patrick Henry, who electrified the issue in his famous
epigram which struck the fulminate of the combat for independence:
"Caesar had his Brutus, Charles the First his Cromwell and George
the Third" (Treason, treason being shouted), rejoined, "if this be
treason, make the most of it." This same authority, being criticised by
aristocratic loyalists for his lack of education, replied: "Naiteral
pairts are more acount than all the book lairning on the airth."
Thomas Jefferson, on the other hand, was a man of higher education.
The private schoolhouse ten feet square on the Tuckahoe plantation,
thirteen miles west of Richmond, in which Thomas Jefferson and his
kinsman, Thomas Marr Randolph, were educated, in part by a private
tutor, was in a good state of preservation when I had the pleasure of
visiting Tuckahoe at the time of the international review at Hampton
Roads.
What we today call free school education began in a simple form under
the Quakers of Philadelphia in the earliest years of the Provincial
government of Penn, the first proprietary. Thomas Holme in bad rhyme
and not much better grammar tells about these schools in 1696. In what
the Germans would call the hinterland the school was at a low ebb.
There being no towns there were no facilities to get enough scholars
together to make the pay of a teacher worth the while. The Germans,
the dominant element, when educated at all, were under the tuition of
teachers of parochial schools of the evangelical denominations and
sects of their own, frequently pastors or missionaries in the language
of the Fatherland. In Pennsylvania among the emigrants who came over in
colonies there was a preacher and a schoolmaster. This was particularly
so among the Dutch, Swedes and Germans. The English Quakers began
schools in Philadelphia very soon after the foundation of that town. In
the interior schools were rare as the settlements were scattered.
Reading was not founded until 1748, therefore education had not made
headway at the time when the men prominent in Berks affairs during the
Revolution were at the educational age. Yet those who figured during
that period in prominent places held their own with any of their city
contemporaries. Among the people generally, according to the oath of
allegiance list, handwriting was evidently not widespread, judging
from the number of "his (cross) mark," substituted for signatures in
1777-1778.
In 1714 Christopher Dock, a German, opened a school at Skippach,
below what is now Pottstown, about thirty miles from this large
assemblage of educated young ladies. Christopher Dock was a man of real
learning, unexcelled by any outside of Pennsylvania in his time. His
"Schule Ordnung" written in 1750 and printed by Christopher Sauer, of
Germantown, 1770, was the first treatise on education produced in type
in the American colonies. The leaders in the German emigration prior
to the American Revolution were often men of the highest scholastic
training.
In New England began the earliest systematic preliminaries and
expansion in the line of schooling. It has the honor, as I have shown,
of founding the second institution of higher learning which survives
today. James Otis, Samuel and John Adams, foremost agitators on the
legal technicalities of opposition to England, were the best types of
the output of New England's educational opportunities of the times.
It is one of the greatest tributes to our forefathers that with these
limited and more frequently rude means of getting an education there
should have been so many examples of brain and culture to meet the
educational requirements of the conflict with the British Crown, the
preparation of documents which stood the most critical scrutiny, and
as well the preparation and negotiating of correspondence, conventions
and treaties to compare favorably with the most advanced university
educated statesmen of the Old World.
What I have said applies to men, but what about the young women of the
same period? Except in the few largest towns where some enterprising
woman was courageous enough of her own volition to establish a school
for young ladies, the education of women was not considered of
importance. The Moravians were the first and most notable exceptions.
The seminary at Bethlehem, almost in sight of where we are now
gathered, was famous in Revolutionary days.
In New York and Philadelphia there was an occasional fashionable
"school" for young ladies.
Abigail Smith, who became wife of John Adams, one of the earliest
agitators and leaders of the contest, one of the committee that drafted
the Declaration of Independence, first Vice-President and second
President of the United States, was a woman of education. Being the
daughter of a Congregational preacher and having a taste for books, her
father devoted much care to her instruction.
As John Adams, on account of his radical patriotism was the man the
British authorities most feared, and were looking for, the letters of
Mrs. Adams to her husband and his replies are valuable contributions to
American history.
They were perfect in writing, spelling, grammar and composition. I
may add, though, of a date long after, history is indebted to her
letters to her daughter for the only eye witness account we have of
the trials and tribulations of the journey of the President's family
from Philadelphia to Washington, in the fall of 1800, then the new
seat of government, getting lost in the woods and taking possession of
the unfinished President's palace, as it was called, without firewood
during bleak November days and nights with no looking glasses, lamps,
nor anything else to make a President's wife comfortable.
As a rule, young women were not educated in books, but taught to sew,
knit, spin, weave, cook, wash, iron and perform all other household
requirements. Her value in the scale of life was in proportion as she
was skilled in the duties of a housewife. This was the real type of
womanhood in those days, and should always be, with a cultivated mind
added.
When we read of their heroic maintenance of the home, care and training
of children, management of the farm, sale of its products and often
facing hardships in keeping the wolf from the door, while husbands,
sons and brothers were fighting for liberty and independence, we care
not whether they could read, write, spell, cast up accounts or not, but
think of their woman's contribution to the success of the contest.
It is positive that the fathers of the Revolution would not have been
successful but for the women, perhaps uneducated in books but competent
and self-sacrificing in maintaining the home, while the men were
fighting for liberty and free exercise of all its enjoyments. If this
great nation is a testimonial of what women without the aid of books
contributed in laying the foundation, what must now be expected of
women having every advantage of education from kindergarten and primary
schools to the woman's college?
I might mention sixteen colleges now exclusively devoted to the
education of young women in New York, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania,
Maryland, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Ohio, and Illinois
with a roll of eight thousand young women students.
The first seniority is Mount Holyoke, Mass., founded in 1837, having
755 scholars; the largest is Smith College, Northampton, Mass., 1,620
young women; next Wellesley, Mass., 1,375, and Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania,
1,125. To show the difference between now and the days of our
revolutionary fathers, the school houses were built of logs, one story
high, with bark roofs and puncheon or dirt floors, which on account
of incessant tramping usually became covered several inches deep with
dust. The teacher sat in the center of the room.
In the log walls around were driven wooden pegs upon which were laid
boards that formed the desks. The seats were rough stools or logs. All
sat with backs to the teacher. The windows to admit light were fitted
with white paper greased with lard instead of glass. The boy scholars
wore leather or dried skin aprons and buckskin tunics and leggins, when
they could not get woven materials. And the girls, coarsely woven flax
or wool bodices, skirts, kerchiefs, and aprons and footwear of wood,
coarse leather, not a few going barefoot.
The writing equipment in Revolutionary days consisted of ink which was
of home manufacture from an ink powder, quills and a pen knife, cutting
pens from goose quills being an art. The rest of the materials were
paper, pumice, a rule, wax, and black sand, shaken from a pepper box
arrangement, instead of blotting paper.
The earliest method of teaching before school text-books were known
was by what was termed the hornbook, a tablet of wood about 5 by 2
inches upon which was fastened a paper sheet containing the alphabet
in capitals and small letters across the top and simple syllables
like, ab, ad, etc.; below and underneath the whole the Lord's Prayer.
The paper containing this course of study was covered with a sheet
of transparent horn fastened around the edges. At the lower edge was
a small handle with a hole through it and a string to go around the
neck. By this means the advantages of a colonial education stayed by
the scholars if they wished to avail of them or not.
These hornbooks were made of oak, bound with metal for common folks,
but for the rich of iron and metal, often silver. Some were wrought
in silk needle work. Their popularity is shown by their advertisement
for sale in the Pennsylvania _Gazette_, December, 1760, and New York
_Gazette_, May, the same year. Battledore book was another name.
Another style was the printed cardboard battledore, about fifteen
inches long and folded over like a pocket book.
The primer succeeded the hornbooks, the New England Primer being one of
the earliest. It is recorded that three millions of these were sold, so
great was the desire for education in times preceding the Revolution.
These little books were five by three inches and contained 80 pages.
They gave short tables of easy spelling up to six syllables; also some
alphabetical religion in verse, as
K--for King Charles the good,
No man of blood.
In the Revolutionary days this was transposed to
K--for Kings and queens,
Both have beens.
Z appears to have been a poser in this alphabetical array of rhythmic
religion, rendered
Zaccheus he
Did climb a tree
His Lord to see.
The hours of study were eight a day.
There were also text-book writers in those early times.
Among the titles one reads: "A delysious syrup newly claryfied for
young scholars yt thurste for ye swete lycore of Latin speche."
Another: "A young Lady's Accident or a short and easy introduction to
English Grammar designed principally for the use of young learners,
more especially for those of the fair sex though proper for either."
Fifty-seven pages. It had a great sale.
It was the style of the time to set books of instruction in doggerel
verse, even spelling, grammar and arithmetic. The latter was taught
by means of "sum books," simply "sums" copied by the learner from an
original furnished by the teacher.
Alphabet lessons were similar to the alphabet blocks children play with
to-day, generally beginning with verses from the Bible. An interesting
fact is that we find the child's prayer, "Now I lay me down to sleep,"
in the New England Primer catechism as far back as 1737. A more
beautiful tribute could not be paid to this invocation of childhood
than the thought of the generations of American children who were thus
taught in their everyday lessons their dependence upon the Supreme
Being.
Some of the most interesting contributions we have to the literature of
the Revolutionary period are the letters of the educated women of the
time. They are the more pleasing because they relate to the affairs of
home and social life.
You, of this age of education of women are expected to exert a large
share in their extension and enjoyment.--_American Monthly Magazine._
NANCY HART.
Many people believe that Nancy Hart was a myth. But not so. In the
"Life and Times of William H. Crawford," by J. E. D. Shipp, of
Americus, the story is reproduced, as the Hart family lived not far
from the home of the Crawfords. Col. Shipp says:
On the north side of Broad River at a point about twelve miles
from the present city of Elberton, Ga., and fourteen from historic
Petersburg, in what is now Elbert County, was situated the log house
in which Benjamin Hart and his wife, Nancy Morgan Hart, lived at the
commencement of the Revolution. The spot is easily located to this day
as being near Dye's and Will's ferries, and on the opposite side of the
river from which Governor Matthews settled in 1784, near a small and
romantic stream known as "War Woman's Creek." This was the name given
to it by the Indians in honor of Nancy Hart, whom they admired and
feared. Her home was near the entrance of the stream into the river.
The State records show that Benjamin Hart drew 400 acres of land on
Broad River, and afterwards another body of land in Burke county. He
was a brother to the celebrated Col. Thomas Hart of Kentucky, who was
the father of the wife of Henry Clay. He was a well-to-do farmer, and
was compelled to take his stock and negroes to the swamp to protect
them and his own life from the unrestrained Tories. As captain of a
small company of 'Partisans,' he would sally forth from his hiding
place only whenever there was a chance of striking the enemy an
effective blow.
The Tories generally spared the women, but killed the men, though
unarmed. Nancy Hart, alone with six boys--Morgan, John, Thomas,
Benjamin, Lemuel and Mark--and her two girls, Sally and Keziah,
presents a unique case of patriotic fervor, courage and independence
of character. Rough, six feet tall, spare, bigboned and exceedingly
strong, she was highspirited, energetic and shrewd. The Whigs loved
her--the Liberty boys called her "Aunt Nancy." The Tories hated her.
When General Elijah Clark moved the women and children away from Broad
River settlement to a place of safety in Kentucky most of them were
anxious to go, but Nancy refused, and remained alone with her children
after her Whig neighbors had departed. Her house was a meeting place
for her husband's company. She aided as a spy and kept him informed of
the movements of the enemy. She always went to the mill alone and was
an expert equestrienne. One day while on her rounds she was met by a
band of Tories with the British colors striped on their hats. They knew
her and demanded her "pass." She shook her fist at them and replied:
"This is my pass; touch me if you dare."
Tories lived on the opposite side of the river from her, and she had
many trials with them. Some are noted. One night "Aunt Nancy" was
boiling a pot of lye soap in the big fireplace of her stack chimney.
Suddenly she noticed a pair of eyes and a bearded face at a crack
between the logs. Pretending not to see the prowler, she went on
stirring the soap and chatting with the children. Biding her time,
she deftly threw a ladleful of the boiling soap into the face of the
intruder, whom, blinded and roaring, Nancy bound fast and the next
morning marched him across the river, wading the ford, and delivered
him to Colonel Clark. She had many encounters, capturing Tories and
taking them to the commander.
But of all her acts of heroism this one eclipses all others. From
the detachment of British soldiers sent out from Augusta, and which
murdered Colonel Dooly, there were five who diverged to the east and
crossed Broad River to examine the neighborhood and paid a visit to
Nancy Hart. They unceremoniously entered her cabin. Being hungry,
they ordered her to cook food for them. She replied that the Tories
and the villains had put it out of her power to feed them, as she had
nothing. "That old gobler out there is all I have left." The leader
of the party shot down the turkey, brought it in and ordered Nancy
to prepare it without delay. She and her children went to work at
the task. Finally she heard her unwelcome guests boasting of killing
Col. Dooly. Then she appeared in good humor and exchanged rude jests
with them. Pleased with her freedom they invited her to partake of
their liquor, which she accepted with jocose thanks. While the turkey
was cooking Nancy sent her eldest daughter to the spring for water,
with directions to blow the conch shell, which sound her father would
interpret. The Tories became merry over the liquor, pouring it from the
jug with laughter, as they hurried up Nancy, anticipating a good feast.
They were at ease. They stacked their arms within easy reach, and Nancy
would ocasionally pass between the men and their muskets. The Tories
again called for water and Nancy again sent the daughter to the spring
for water--and to blow the signal for Captain Hart. Nancy was thinking
fast. Through a crack between the logs she slipped outside two of the
five guns. When the third was being put out she was discovered, and
the men sprang to their feet. In an instant Nancy brought the musket
to her shoulder, declaring she would kill the first man that moved.
Appalled by her audacity and fury, the men for a moment stood still;
then one of them made a quick movement to advance on her. She shot him
dead. Instantly seizing the other musket at her side she leveled it,
keeping the others at bay. By this time the daughter returned from
the spring and took the other gun out of the house, saying: "Father
and the company will soon be here." This alarmed the Tories and they
proposed a general rush. So Nancy fired and brought down another man
dead at her feet. The daughter handed her another gun and Nancy, moving
to the doorway, demanded surrender of the three living. "Yes, we will
surrender, and let's shake hands on the strength of it." But Nancy did
not shake hands. When Captain Hart and company arrived Nancy would
not let them shoot, saying: "These prisoners have surrendered to me;
they have murdered Colonel Dooly. I heard them say so." And George
Dooly, brother of Colonel Dooly, and McCorkle followed and saw that the
captured murderers were hanged.
John Hart, second son of Nancy, became an influential citizen of
Athens. Nancy lived with him after the death of Capt. Hart. In 1787,
when the two Virginia preachers, Thomas Humphries and John Majors, were
holding a great campmeeting in Wilkes County, Nancy became a staunch
adherent of the new faith and joined the church--Wesley's. She finally
moved to Kentucky, where her relatives, the Morgans, lived. Hart County
was named for her, and the town of Hartford, which in 1810 was the
county seat of Pulaski.
BATTLE OF KING'S MOUNTAIN.
BY MARION JACKSON HALL.
They heard the guns a-roaring,
They sounded far and wide;
They saw the rebels coming,
Up every mountain side.
The mountaineers, no longer tame,
From every hill and thicket came,
They rushed up every mountain side
To plunge into the swelling tide.
Ferguson knew, both good and well,
He would have to fight, on hill or dell,
But the number of rebels, he could not tell.
They were advancing, and walking fast,
When now they blew a long, shrill blast.
A smoke now covered the battlefield
With deaf'ning sound, of warlike peal.
The British flag was waving high,
When through the smoke there came a cry--
A cry from amidst the cloud did ring
From men that fought for England's king.
The English flag, they took it down,
Their leader was dead, and on the ground,
And panic stricken, they were found.
The rebels raged and charged again
And captured more than a thousand men;
They raised their flag up at top mast,
They saw and knew they were gaining fast.
The thunder roared, the lightning flashed,
And through the cloud some horsemen dashed,
The field was high, but there was mud,
For it was wet and red with blood.
It was a short, but bloody fight,
It filled the Tories all with fright--
They whipped the Tories, that was right.
The battlefield with blood was red,
And covered with wounded and with dead.
They smote and fell, who raised a hand,
To wipe the rebels from the land.
The Americans won that glorious fight
That put them all to thinking right,
They believed they should soon make their laws
And God was with their righteous cause.
WILLIAM CLEGHORN.
In the spring of 1728, a handful of sturdy Scotchmen started from
Chelmart, Scotland, for America, "The Land of the Free and the Home of
the Brave." Among these were the parents of the boy William Cleghorn,
whose true story is herein narrated.
He was a frail lad and partly for the love of the sea and partly for
his health, he enlisted in the Navy. We find him enrolled at Brunswick,
N. C., September 8th, 1748, as a member of Capt. Samuel Corbin's
Company. He proved a daring sailor, yet he was not so interested in
the Navy but that he had time to fall desperately in love with sweet
Thankful Dexter, of Falmouth.
Now, Thankful's father was a man of wealth, great wealth, for those
days, and a son-in-law, with nothing to recommend him but good looks
and a fine record as a daring sailor, did not appeal to him, but
demure, sweet Thankful had a will of her own. She saw that young
William was worthy of any woman's love, so never for an instant did she
even think of giving him up.
As time went on our hero began to be a power in the colonies. He was
interested in everything pertaining to their welfare. He soon began
to prosper financially, and on February 12, 1782, we find recorded
that he gave security for twenty thousand ($20,000.00) dollars, and
took command of the ten-gun ship "Virginia." Rickerton, the historian,
tells us in his history that our hero was "one of the earliest and most
intelligent ship masters" but "all the world loves a lover," and I
started to tell you chiefly about his love affair.
Thankful was always dreaming of William's bright, cheery face, and we
may be sure she lost no opportunity to say to her worldly, bustling
father, "Didn't I tell you so?" every time William brought new honors
upon himself.
As time went on this energetic young man conceived the idea of building
a sloop, which he did and named it the "Betsy." We wonder why he did
not call it "The Thankful" but perhaps Thankful had something to say
about that.
William loaded the "Betsy" with an immense cargo of oil and sailed
around Cape Horn. This was the very first voyage ever made around the
Cape, and can you not imagine how proud young William Cleghorn was? And
can you not almost hear Thankful telling her father about the wonderful
journey around Cape Horn?
The father was now convinced that William was not only valiant in war
and a persistent lover, but that he was an excellent business man as
well, so he withdrew his objections and Thankful Dexter became the
happy wife of William Cleghorn.
We can almost see the radiant Thankful in her homespun gown and pertly
poke bonnet, and the erect happy William with the air of a conquerer,
coming side by side from the little church, through the narrow paths
of Martha's Vineyard, to the home all ready for the happy couple, for
William was now a well-to-do young man.
We must not take them all through life's journey, for this is to be a
child's story, but alas for human joys, while on a visit to Boston in
1793, William Cleghorn was stricken with appoplexy and very suddenly
passed away.
When you go to Boston, go out to the old Granary Cemetery, so well
known by lovers of history, and inclosed in an iron railing you see a
white stone standing alone. Draw near and read the inscription and you
will see that there lies your hero, William, for on the stone you read:
Captain William Cleghorn
of
New Bedford.
Who died in a fit of appoplexy on a visit to this town,
February 24, 1793, in the 60th year of his age.
"Here lies entombed beneath the tufted clod,
A man beloved, the noblest of God.
With friendly throbs the heart shall beat no more,
Closed the gay scene, the pomp of life is o'er."
In the record of his will we find the following, which will show you
how our ancestors made their wills:
Two mahogony tables, 1 square table, 16 leather bottom chairs, 1
mahogony desk, 7 looking glasses, 1 set of china (42 pieces), 1 coffee
set (30 pieces), 34 linen sheets, 25 pair pillow cases, 1 pew in First
Congregational Meeting House, 1 pew in Second Congregational House,
etc., etc., besides a long list of notes and other properties.
This is very different from the wills of today, isn't it? I presume we
have many boys as brave and true as William, and many girls as dear and
sweet as Thankful, and perhaps one hundred years from now other boys
and girls will be reading about some of you. So let us live in such
a way that we may have our story written and enjoyed as is this true
story of Thankful Dexter and William Cleghorn.--EVELYN CLEGHORN DIMOCK
HENRY, Xavier Chapter, D. A. R., Rome, Ga.
THE BLUE LAWS OF OLD VIRGINIA.
Usually in discussion of blue laws, those very Draconian regulations
which have so aroused the ire or the respect of moderns, depending upon
which way they look at it, the debaters confine themselves mostly to
New England Puritan forms, or those of New York, Pennsylvania or New
Jersey.
In the days the Puritans formulated the blue laws, Virginia was looked
upon as the home of high living and frivolity. Even to this day few
would look for such measures among that old aristocratic colony.
As a matter of fact, the Virginians of the seventeenth century, had
a habit of enacting indigo-tinted laws, and likewise enforcing them,
which might have made the Puritans sit up late at night to beat them.
Aside from the stern and vindictive intolerance which finds utterance
in the acts of the Virginia Assembly between the years 1662 and 1680,
the most striking element in them is the tremendous premium placed
upon spying and informing. In most every case in which such a reward is
possible the law encouraged the man to spy upon his neighbor.
If the Virginia husbands agreed with Kipling that "a woman is only a
woman, but a good cigar is a smoke," the following act must have been
the occasion of much domestic infelicity.
"If a married woman shall slander a person the woman shall be
punished by ducking, and if the damages shall be adjudged more than
500 pounds of tobacco her husband shall pay, or the woman receive a
ducking for every 500 pounds so adjudged against her husband if he
refused to pay the tobacco."
Unless a man was well stocked with the divine weed it was worth while
to attend church with promptness and regularity:
"Enacted that the Lord's Day be kept holy and no journeys or work
done thereon, and all persons inhabiting in this country shall
resort every Sunday to church and abide there quietly and orderly
during the common prayers and preaching, upon the penalty of being
fined fifty pounds of tobacco."
Devices for public instruction and amusement were not to be neglected
with impunity, even by the courts of the colony, as witness the
following:
"The Court in every county shall set up near the courthouse, in
a public and convenient place, a pillory, a pair of stocks, a
whipping post and a ducking stool. Otherwise the Court shall be
fined 5,000 pounds of tobacco."
There is no record of the Court ever having been mulcted of tobacco
for depriving the people of the opportunity to watch the sufferings of
their friends and neighbors.
Severe laws were directed against Quakers. Prior legislation had
attempted to put a damper on being any kind of a "separatist," which
meant any fellow who didn't agree with the Established Church.
Evidently a little further law on the subject was thought necessary,
for in 1663 the Virginia Assembly passed the following act:
"Any person inhabiting this country, and entertaining a Quaker in
or near his house, shall, for every time of such entertainment,
be fined 5,000 pounds of tobacco, half to the county, half to the
informer."
Even Virginia hospitality might well have paused in the face of such a
flying start toward bankruptcy.
That a stowaway might prove costly is demonstrated by the following:
"Every master of a vessel that shall bring any Quakers to reside
here after July 1 of this year shall be fined 5,000 pounds of
tobacco, to be levied by distress and sale of his goods, and he
then shall be made to carry him, her or them out of the country
again."
Evidently a little thing like a couple of years in servitude did not
deter the lovers of pork chops from appropriating their neighbors'
swine, for in 1679 the Assembly delivered themselves of the following
act:
"The first offense of hog stealing shall be punished according to
the former law; upon a second offense the offender shall stand for
two hours in the pillory and shall lose his ears, and for the third
offense shall be tried by the laws of England as in case of felony."
As the English law of the period usually prescribed hanging for a twice
convicted felon, it is presumed that the third dose of justice proved
an efficient remedy.
Not only in the stringency of their laws did the gray cavaliers of the
Old Dominion run neck and neck with the grim-visaged gentry of Plymouth
Rock, but the doubtful honor of being the last to relinquish the gentle
art of witchcraft persecution probably belongs to them as well.
The witchbaiters around Salem and throughout New England generally
ceased to a considerable extent their punishment for alleged witchcraft
before the eighteenth century, but the Virginian records show the
arrest and persecution of Grace Sherwood, of Princess Anne County, for
witchcraft in 1706.
For six months this young woman was imprisoned, being brought time and
again before the court in an effort to convict her. Finding no evidence
in her actions to justify the persecution, the Attorney-General caused
the Sheriff of the county to impanel a jury of women to examine Grace
Sherwood physically and instructed them to find something to indicate
that she was a witch. This the women failed to do and they were
threatened with contempt of court for their failure.
Everything else having failed, it was decided to put Miss Sherwood
to the water test, which consisted in tying her hands and feet and
throwing her overboard in the nearest lake or river. If she sank she
was innocent, but if by her struggles she managed to keep afloat for a
few moments, she was guilty of witchcraft.
The full account of this trial is preserved by the Virginia Historical
Society, and the last two court orders in the case are of interest as
marking the close of witchcraft persecution in the colonies.
"Whereas, Grace Sherwood, being suspected of witchcraft, have a
long time waited for a fit opportunity for a further examination,
& by her consent & approbacon of ye court, it is ordered that ye
sheriff take all such convenient assistance of boats and men and
shall be by him thought fit to meet at Jno. Harpers plantation, in
order to take ye Grace Sherwood forthwith and BUTT her into the
water above a man's debth & try her how she swims therein, always
having care of her life to preserve her from drowning, & as soon
as she comes out that he request as many antient and knowing women
as possible he can to search her carefully for all spottes & marks
about her body not usuall on others, & that as they find the same
to make report on oath to ye truth thereof to ye court, and further
it is ordered that some woman be requested to shift and search her
before she goes into ye water, that she carry nothing about her to
cause further suspicion."
On the afternoon of July 10, 1706, the court and county officers and
populace assembled on John Harper's plantation, and the arrangements
being completed, Grace Sherwood was carried out to a nearby inlet of
Lynnhaven Bay. The official court reporter tells quaintly the rest of
the story:
"Whereas, on complaint of Luke Hill in behalf of her Magisty, that
now is against Grace Sherwood for a person suspected of witchcraft,
& having had sundry evidences sworn against her, proving manny
cercumstances, & which, she could not make any excuse or little or
nothing to say in her own behalf, only seeming too rely on what ye
court should do, and thereupon consented to be tried in ye water, &
likewise to be serched againe with expermints; being tried, and she
swimming when therein & bound, contray to custom and ye judgments
of all ye spectators, & afterwards being searched by five antient
women who have all declared on oath that she is not like them; all
of which cercumstances ye court weighing in their consideracon, do
therefore order that ye sheriff take ye said Grace Sherwood into
his custody & comit her body to ye common goal of this county,
there to secure her by irons, or otherwise there to remain till
such time as he shall be otherwise directed."
The woman was finally turned free, and thus ended the last legal
prosecution for witchcraft in the colony.
ELIJAH CLARKE.
BY MRS. JOHN H. MORGAN, _Regent Brunswick Chapter, D. A. R._
It is to be regretted that our historians have given so little space
to one of our Georgia patriots of the Revolution--Elijah Clarke. One
of our greatest national needs is that of commemorating the memories
of our men who "did greatly," who fought, suffered and endured for
our national independence. This is one of the prime objects of the
existence of the Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution;
"To perpetuate the memory of the Spirit of the men who achieved
American Independence."
Among the many contributed to this great cause by Georgia, was Elijah
Clarke. After the fall of Georgia, for the time being, many of our most
distinguished men became voluntary exiles among their "brethren" in the
West. Among the most prominent of these was Colonel Clarke; one to whom
our liberty and the justness of the cause was dear.
He did not give up hope; for his heart was filled with the desire
to return and renew the contest. He employed his entire time in the
preparation of a sufficient force that would enable him to return when
the opportunity should present itself.
Augusta was the key to the northern part of the state, and its
possession was of great importance to our patriots. Upon hearing that
the time for the arrival of the annual Indian presents was near, the
desire to recover Augusta became, to Colonel Clarke, irresistible.
He immediately set about collecting troops and his arguments were so
successful that in a very short time five hundred enthusiastic warriors
and men from the hills were assembled and marched to Augusta.
Upon their arrival, the division under Major Taylor attacked the Indian
camp on Hawks Gully, thereby drawing the British under Colonel Thomas
Brown to the support of the Indian allies, leaving the south and west
of the city unguarded. Colonel Clarke entered at the points, with the
remainder of his army, captured the garrison and finally, driving out
Colonel Brown, occupied the town.
The British under Colonel Brown, after being driven out of Augusta,
took refuge in a strong house called Seymour's White House, which they
had fortified.
Colonel Clarke besieged them and was on the point of capturing them,
after a four days siege, when Col. Cruger, coming with another British
force compelled Clarke to retreat.
Lord Cornwallis ordered Colonel Ferguson to intercept Colonel Clarke.
Just as Col. Ferguson started to carry out these orders, he heard that
a new enemy was approaching, for the very purpose of doing just what
Colonel Clarke had failed to do. This force consisted of rifle militia
and had been drawn from Kentucky, the western country of Virginia and
North Carolina, and was under the command of the famous independent
colonels, Campbell, Cleveland, Williams, Sevier and Shelby. Upon
hearing of Clarke's repulse and of Ferguson's orders to intercept
Clarke, they gave up their enterprise on Colonel Brown, and turned
against Ferguson; which ended in a crushing defeat for the British and
the destruction of Colonel Ferguson at King's Mountain.
"Although Clarke failed in the reduction of Augusta, his attempt led
to the destruction of Ferguson; and with it to the present relief of
North Carolina." Such is the testimony of "Light Horse" Harry Lee, his
companion in arms, and the father of our beloved General Robert E. Lee.
General Clarke, as he became, was brave and patriotic, and his services
during the Revolution were valuable to the country, and deserve the
recognition of his state. He died December 15th, 1799--one day after
the death of Washington.
"Poor is the nation that boasts no heroes, but beggared is that
country that having them, forgets."
General Clarke was one of Georgia's heroes. Let us honor him.
GENERAL FRANCIS MARION.
The subject of this sketch is General Francis Marion and a pleasant
duty it is to revive the memory of this almost forgotten hero who was
one of the most famous warriors of the American Revolution. General
Nathaniel Greene had often been heard to say that the page of history
had never furnished his equal.
He was born near Georgetown, South Carolina, of French parents, who
were refugees to this country after the Revocation of the Edict of
Nantes. From them he inherited that love of liberty which had caused
them to forsake home and friends and commence a new life among
strangers that they might enjoy freedom of thought and action at King's
Mountain.
He manifested early in life a love of adventure. His first warlike
experience was against the Indians. He served as a Lieutenant of
volunteers. In his encounters with the savages he showed such courage
and skill that he soon became famous, and to his credit, it must be
said, he was always humane and just.
When war was declared against England and troops had to be raised,
Marion received a Captain's commission. He went forth to raise a
company. Money was lacking and he had to depend entirely on volunteers.
He very soon, however, succeeded in getting his complement of men and
was unexcelled in his dealings with these raw recruits. He could enter
into their feelings and appreciate their conduct. He did not exact
impossibilities of them and he was celebrated for what was called his
patience with the militia.
[Illustration: MONUMENT, SITE OF OLD FORT CORNWALLIS, AUGUSTA, GA.]
No service was ever more strictly voluntary than that of those who
constituted the company known as "Marion's Men" and he led them to
perform deeds of valor which seem almost incredible. There was an air
of mysterious daring in what he undertook, which gave a charm to the
life his followers led, while they had the most perfect confidence
in their leader. Insubordination was rare among his men on account
of their devotion to him. If it did occur he usually visited it by
dismissal from his band. This ignominy was dreaded more than any other
mode of punishment. He seldom resorted to the military methods of
severe discipline. His band was composed largely of the planters, and
some of them were boys who lived in the section of the country where
his daring exploits harrassed so severely the British. These men were
devoted to field sports and were consequently fine riders and marksmen.
Marion and his men are connected with the most romantic adventures of
the Revolution, equal to any we have read of in song or story. The
writer has often listened with intense interest to the accounts given
by her grandfather of the recitals of his party. William Pope, who was
one of "Marion's Men," tells of the many hazardous undertakings against
the British and Tories. The famous rides at night when they would leave
their hidden places in the swamps, or some forest so densely wooded
that they alone knew the trails by which they found their way in and
out; how they would start on one of their swift rides to intercept the
passing of British troops from one post to another or attack an army
wagon train with provisions and ammunition, etc. The descent of Marion
and his men would be so sudden that the enemy would be completely
demoralized.
Marion kept bands of scouts constantly watching the enemy and by this
means he was enabled to give our army most valuable information.
At one time our hero and his men learning of the encampment of some
British troops near a river, started out to attack them at midnight.
They had to ride many miles to reach the river and in crossing the
bridge the noise of the horses aroused the sentinels of the enemy and
they were prepared for resistance. The fight which ensued was a fierce
one, but ever after that experience, when Marion found it necessary to
cross a bridge, he made the men dismount and spread their blankets over
the bridge to muffle the sound of the horses feet. It was a rule with
him never to use a bridge when he could ford a river, and he burned all
bridges for which he had no use. These long rapid rides were exhausting
to man and beasts. They returned as rapidly as they went forth and when
they reached their place of safety, they would secure their horses,
throw themselves on the ground with only a blanket and a saddle for a
pillow and sleep so soundly they would be unconscious of the falling
rain and often awaken in the morning to find themselves surrounded by
water. Amid all these scenes of hardship there were times when this
band of devoted patriots indulged in revelry, as they were safely
gathered around the camp fires among the lofty moss-draped cypress
trees and gum trees of the swamps to enjoy the captured supplies from
the enemy's commissary stores, which enabled them to supply themselves
with clothing, arms and ammunition. Thus they largely provided for
their own subsistence by their daring prowess.
The British established a line of military posts in South Carolina
extending from Georgetown to Charleston. They found it exceedingly
difficult to hold any communication, for Marion's scouts were always
on the lookout to report their movements. Colonel Watson, of the
enemy, attempted to take a regiment from one post to another. He was
so harrassed by the sharpshooting of "Marion's Men" who lay in ambush
along his route, that he sent a letter by flag of truce to Marion
reproaching him for fighting like a savage and invited him to come out
in open field and fight like a gentleman. But Marion was too shrewd to
put in open field his comparatively small band, with their peculiar
mode of warfare, against a far greater number of finely drilled
regulars of the enemy and Colonel Watson had to retreat and encamp his
men in the first open field he could find.
Marion had a number of interviews by flag of truce with British
officers. One of the most noted is the one in which he entertained the
officer at dinner. After business affairs had been settled General
Marion invited the officer to dine with him and he accepted. Marion
ordered dinner. The officer looked around with curiosity as he saw no
preparations for dinner and his surprise was great when the cook placed
before him on a piece of bark a few sweet potatoes which had been
roasted in the fire near by. The officer remarked to Marion that he
supposed his supplies had fallen short, endeavoring to relieve Marion
of any embarrassment he thought he might feel in offering him such
meager fare, but Marion replied that he considered himself fortunate,
as he had a guest that day, he had that much to offer him. The officer
was amazed and profoundly impressed with what he had seen. He returned
to his command with such feelings of admiration and respect for men
who endured so cheerfully such privations and so many hardships for
the sake of liberty, that he said it was useless to fight such men,
that they were entitled to liberty and he would not continue to fight
against them. He resigned his commission in the army.
The enemy at this time had absolute command of this portion of South
Carolina excepting as they were disturbed by Marion. He shifted from
swamp to swamp and thicket to thicket and never relaxed his struggle
for liberty. So harrassed were the enemy by him, they determined a
number of times to make a special effort to capture him or drive him
out of the state. All in vain. Marion was too alert and often met them
with more promptness than they desired.
Colonel Tarleton, a British officer, with a reputation for great
activity undertook one of these expeditions against Marion and narrowly
escaped being captured himself. He retreated from his attack exclaiming
to his men "Come on boys, we will go back, there is no catching this
'Swamp Fox'." By this same name he was ever afterward called by his
followers.
When Gen. Nathaniel Greene took command of the Southern Army, he wrote
to General Marion and begged him to remain in his independent position
and keep the army supplied with intelligence, in which important part
he rendered most active service, also in the battles of Georgetown,
Ninety Six, Charleston, Savannah and others. So highly appreciated by
the Government was the brave and valuable part performed by Marion and
his men, that Congress passed a series of resolutions expressing the
gratitude of the country to them.
Governor Rutledge appointed him Brigadier-General. In addition to the
usual military rank, extraordinary powers were conferred upon him, such
as were only granted to extraordinary men.
In the circumstances of life, there was a remarkable resemblance
between him and the great Washington. They were both volunteers in
the service of their country. They learned the military art in Indian
warfare. They were both soldiers so vigilant that no enemy could ever
surprise them and so equal in undaunted valor that nothing could
disturb them, and even in the private incidents of their lives, the
resemblance between these two great men was closer than common. They
were both born in the same year, both lost fathers early in life,
both married excellent, wealthy wives, both left widows and both died
childless.
In reviewing the life of Gen. Marion, we find patient courage, firmness
in danger, resolution in adversity, hardy endurance amid suffering and
want. He lived that liberty might not die and never relinquished his
sword until the close of the war. He then retired to his plantation
near Eutaw, where he died. His last words were: "Thank God, since I
have come to man's estate, I have never intentionally done wrong to any
man."
Marion's remains are in the church yard at Belle Isle in the parish
of St. John's Berkely. Over them is a marble slab upon which is the
following inscription:
"Sacred to the memory of Brigadier-General Francis Marion, who departed
this life on the twenty-ninth of February, 1795, in the sixty-third
year of his age, deeply regretted by all of his fellow citizens.
History will recall his worth and rising generations will embalm his
memory as one of the most distinguished patriots and heroes of the
American Revolution; who elevated his native country to honor and
independence and accrued to her the blessings and liberty of peace."
This tribute of veneration and gratitude is erected in commemoration
of the noble and distinguished virtues of the citizen and of the
gallant exploits of the soldier who lived without fear and died without
reproach.
This brief and imperfect sketch of one of the most noted military men
of his day has led to the reflection that many of the most valiant
leaders of the Revolution are comparatively little known among the
rising generation. The old histories written in the early part of
this century which recorded their brilliant deeds and virtues, are
out of print, a few to be found in old libraries, and the old readers
which were used in the schools forty and fifty years ago were full of
the accounts of their achievements, which thrilled the hearts of the
students and stimulated in them a love of country, as only such deeds
of valor could inspire. But today these heroes who taught us such
lessons of patriotism have passed away forgotten, others scarcely a
memory. Ought it to be so?
As our society is for the purpose of advancing the cause of patriotism,
no effort on the part of its members would do more to bring this about
than for some of them situated in different parts of our country to
unite in collecting material for a new reader for the use of schools
in which the deeds of these revolutionary patriots would be once more
revived and made conspicuous to those who should ever hold them in
grateful veneration.
This thought is one that might advantageously engage the attention
of some national publisher who might employ compilers from different
localities of our country for this purpose.
Among the "Readers" alluded to, was a tribute to Gen. Marion and his
men, which was at the same time a graphic account of their lives and
services. It was written by one of our favorable national poets,
William Cullen Bryant, and was a favorite selection for declamation
among American juvenile orators many years ago. It has disappeared
from the modern editions of "Readers," but would fitly embellish a new
"American Speaker," a book which would be popular throughout our land
in these days of Sons and Daughters of the Revolution.
This suggestion will be enhanced by the reproduction of the ringing
lines with which this article will close:
SONG OF MARION'S MEN.
Our band is few, but true and tried,
Our leader frank and bold;
The British soldier trembles
When Marion's name is told.
Our fortress is the good green wood,
Our tent the cypress tree;
We know the forest 'round us,
As Seamen know the sea;
We know its wall of thorny vines,
Its glades of reedy grass;
Its safe and silent islands
Within the dark morass.
Woe to the British soldiery,
That little dread us near;
On them shall light at midnight
A strange and sudden fear;
When waking to their tents on fire,
They grasp their arms in vain,
And they who stand to face us
Are beat to earth again,
And they who fly in terror deem
A mighty host behind
And hear the tramp of thousands
Upon the hollow wind.
Then sweet the hour that brings release
From dangers and from toil;
We talk the battle over
And share the battle spoil.
The woodland rings with laugh and shout
As if a hunt were up,
And woodland flowers are gathered
To crown the soldiers' cup.
With merry sounds we mock the wind
That in the pine top grieves,
And slumber long and sweetly
On beds of oaken leaves.
Well knows the fair and friendly moon,
The band that Marion leads;
The glitter of their rifles,
The scampering of their steeds.
'Tis life to guide the fiery barb,
Across the moonlit plain;
'Tis life to feel the night wind
That lifts his tossing mane.
A moment in the British camp,
A moment and away;
Back to the pathless forest,
Before the peep of day.
Grave men there are by broad Santee,
Grave men with hoary hairs.
Their hearts are all with Marion,
For Marion are their prayers;
And lovely ladies greet our band
With kindliest welcoming,
With smiles like those of summer,
And with tears like those of spring.
For them we wear these trusty arms
And lay them down no more,
Till we have driven the Briton
Forever from our shore.
--_Mrs. F. H. Orme, Atlanta Chapter, D. A. R._
"LIGHT HORSE HARRY."
The Lee family was illustrious both in England and America. They
clearly trace their ancestry to the Norman Conquest, Launcelot Lee
being the founder of the family. The Lees were prominent in English
history down to the colonization of this country. Robert E. Lee is
descended from Richard Lee, a younger son of the Earl of Litchfield,
who was sent to this country in 1641 during the reign of Charles I. He
came as colonial secretary under Sir William Berkeley. He was loyal
to the royal party during the struggle between the Cavaliers and
Roundheads. Richard Lee, second son of the Richard mentioned above,
was born in Virginia in 1646 and educated in England and studied law.
He took an active part in colonial legislation. His son, Thomas, was
the first to establish himself in Westmoreland County. He was very
prominent in the early history of the state. The fine mansion of
Stratford was built for him by the East India company, and several
of the prominent Lees were born in that home. Henry Lee, the son of
Richard Lee, filled no prominent place in colonial history. He married
a Miss Bland and had three children, the second son being Henry, who
married a Miss Grymes in 1753. He left six sons and five daughters,
the third son being Henry, the ancestor of R. E. Lee. He went to
Princeton and was preparing to study law when hostilities with England
changed his plans. When quite young he raised a company of cavalry
and soon after the battle of Lexington joined Washington's forces.
He soon became noted as an able leader and was promoted to the rank
of lieutenant-colonel and had command of "Lee's Legion," consisting
of infantry and cavalry. He was actively engaged in the service to
the close of the war and was conspicuous in this state for some time.
Owing to his rapid movements he was known as "Light Horse Harry."
About 1781 he married his cousin, a daughter of Colonel Philip Ludwell
Lee, of Stratford. Four children were born to them, all of whom died
except one son. The wife died in 1790. He was elected to congress
and afterwards was governor of Virginia. He next married Miss Anne
Hill Carter, daughter of Charles Carter, of Shirley. He again entered
political life and was elected to the general assembly. The children
of his second marriage were Charles Carter, Sidney Smith, Robert E.,
Anne and Mildred. Robert Edward Lee was born in the Stratford mansion
in which two signers of the Declaration of Independence were born. In
1811 Henry Lee moved to Alexandria to educate his children. Here he was
made major-general during the war of 1812. He was the author of "First
in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen," when
pronouncing a eulogy on Washington. His health failed in 1817 and he
was induced to make a trip to the West Indies, but finding that he was
not benefited, he returned and landed on the coast of Georgia, where
he enjoyed the hospitality of a daughter of his old friend, General
Nathaniel Greene, who was living in the family residence on Cumberland
Island. After lingering a short time he died and was buried there,
March 25, 1818.
General A. C. Long wrote the memoirs of R. E. Lee. He publishes an
incident which occurred in 1862, when Lee was sent to this state to
examine our lines and means of defense. General Long accompanied him.
When they reached Savannah General Lee secured a vessel and went to
Cumberland Island. He had the boat anchored and the two went on shore.
They entered the old Greene mansion, which was in bad condition. Going
through that to the rear, General Lee went alone to an old neglected
cemetery. After that he returned with a flower in his hand, but never
spoke a word about the visit to his father's grave. In silence he
showed his reverence; with his usual modesty he refrained from speaking
about it. From that old cemetery on Cumberland Island the body of
"Light Horse Harry" Lee, ninety-five years after his death, was carried
back to his old Virginia home and laid in its final resting place.
OUR LEGACY.
Our brave Forefathers: give them place
In Hall of Fame--the Nation's heart;
They met the foe, aye face to face:
Each man a hero, did his part--
Invincible to fear, and wrought
For us and ours, beyond his thought.
O fair Republic: pride and boast
Of children who cannot forget--
From lake to gulf, from coast to coast
Where waves the Flag with colors set
In patriot blood, which ne'er shall fade--
That _Flag_ is _ours_, its price they paid.
We, daughters of a loyal line,
Would weave their deathless deeds in song,
With memory's fairest flowers entwine
Sweet garlands which shall linger long,
Who die for God and Country share
Immortal honors other-where.
--_Hannah A. Foster in American Monthly Magazine._
THE RIDE OF MARY SLOCUMB.
In the prologue to "The Princess," Tennyson makes one of the group
of collegemates assembled during the holiday season at Vivian Place
find in an old chronicle the story of a brave woman whom a wild king
besieged. But she armed
"Her own fair head, and sallying through the gate,
Had beat her foes with slaughter from the walls."
When this story was read to the ladies present, one of the men asked:
"Where lives there such a woman now?" To which
"Quick answer'd Lilia 'There are thousands now
Such women, but convention beats them down.'"
On the first day of February, 1776, General McDonald, chief of the
McDonald clan in the Cape Fear region, issued a proclamation, calling
upon all true and loyal Highlanders to join his standard at Cross
Creek, now Fayetteville, and prepare to assist General Clinton and
Governor Martin in maintaining the king's authority in the province
of North Carolina. About fifteen or sixteen hundred of them obeyed
the summons. From Cross Creek they marched down the Cape Fear River
until they came to Moore's creek, where they were met on February 27th
by a Whig force about a thousand strong under the command of Richard
Caswell, The following from a letter from Caswell to Cornelius Harnett
shows the result of the meeting:
"I have the pleasure to acquaint you that we had an engagement with
the Tories, at Widow Moore's creek bridge, on the 27th current.
Our army was about one thousand strong, consisting of the Newbern
Battalion of Minute Men, the militia from Craven, Johnston, Dobbs
and Wake, and a detachment of the Wilmington Battalion of Minute
Men, which we found encamped at Moore's Creek the night before the
battle, under the command of Colonel Lillington. The Tories by
common report were three thousand, but General MacDonald, whom we
have prisoner, says there were about fifteen or sixteen hundred;
he was unwell that day and not in the battle. Captain McLeod, who
seemed to be principal commander, and Captain John Campbell, are
among the slain."
This was the first pitched battle of the Revolution won by the
Whigs; the only victories of an earlier date being the capture of
Forts Ticonderoga and Crown Point on May 10, 1775. It would be
difficult to overestimate the importance of the victory. Besides the
capture of about 900 prisoners and 2,000 stands of arms of which the
Americans stood in great need, the crushing of the Tory spirit and the
corresponding rise of the Whig spirit, meant untold strength to the
cause of freedom.
But it is not the political nor the military result of this battle with
which this story is to deal. With the foregoing as an introduction,
it is interesting now to turn to the story of the heroine of Moore's
creek, Mary Slocumb.
Mary Slocumb was the young wife of Ezekiel Slocumb, of Wayne County. He
afterwards became a prominent member of the house of commons, serving
in the session of 1812 to 1818. She was but yet a girl when her husband
rode away from home to join Caswell in crushing McDonald and the
enemies of liberty. The men of that section, more than eighty strong,
rode away one calm Sunday morning, under the lead of Slocumb. Before
the long ride was begun, his young wife went out with the colonel to
inspect the men. She says that she looked at them well, and could see
that every man meant mischief. No doubt it was a sturdy, stern and
determined band that rode away that day to battle for their rights.
These men rode away in high spirits, some to a glorious death, some to
a glorious victory; none to defeat or dishonor.
It is easy to imagine what a long, lonely day the young wife had at
home that quiet Sabbath day; it is easy to imagine where her thoughts
were; it is easy to imagine how she concealed the anxiety of her heart
under the assumed cheerfulness of her face. "I slept soundly and
quietly that night," she says, "and worked hard all the next day; but
I kept thinking where they had got to, how far, where and how many of
the regulars and Tories they would meet; and I could not keep from that
study."
Going to bed in this anxious state of mind, her sleep was disturbed by
a terrible dream. She seemed to see lying on the ground, surrounded by
the dead and wounded, a body, motionless, bloody, ghostly, wrapped in
her husband's cloak. With a cry of alarm she sprang to her feet into
the middle of the room. So vivid was the impression that it remained
with her even after she awakened from sleep and in rushing forward
to the place where the vision appeared, she ran into the side of the
house. The light was dim; all around was quiet and peaceful, but her
heart kept up a great commotion. "If ever I felt fear," she says, "it
was at that moment." The more she reflected on the vision the more
vivid and more fearful it became, until at last she could bear the
suspense no longer and starting up she said aloud:
"I must go to him."
In the stable was her favorite and own particular horse, "as fleet and
easy a nag as ever traveled." In an instant, leaving her baby and the
house in the care of the nurse, she rushed out to the barn, saddled her
mare, and in less time than it takes to tell it, was flying down the
road at full speed.
The night air was cool; the spirit of the race was in the nag; and mile
after mile was quickly left behind, as the sound of her rapidly falling
hoofs fell clear and distinct in the quiet night air. All alone, urged
onward by love and fear, this brave little woman swept on through the
dark night, dashing over bridges, whirling through dark woods, flashing
past farm houses, until when the sun began to appear in the east thirty
miles lay between her and her quiet home. Shortly after sunrise she
passed a group of women and children anxiously awaiting news from the
troops. From these she learned the exact route taken by Caswell and
with only a few minutes' stop she was again skimming over the ground.
There was no flagging in her spirits, nor those of the mare. On the
contrary, the excitement became more and more intense the nearer they
got to the end of their journey. It seemed as if the woman had infused
her spirits into the horse.
The sun was well up when a new excitement was added to the race--she
heard a sound like thunder rolling and rumbling in the distance. She
pulled her mare up suddenly. What was it? Though she had never heard
the sound before, she knew it must be the roar of the cannon; and as
she thought of what it meant, the blood coursed more rapidly than ever
through her veins; she was more than ever impatient to be on the scene,
and away she dashed again. But then a thought rushed into her mind that
for a moment made her feel very foolish to be here so far away from
home and child, on what might after all be but a fool's errand.
"What a fool I am," she thought. "My husband could not be dead last
night, if the battle is only fighting now."
But she had come too far now to turn back and so she pressed on faster
than before. As she drew nearer, she could hear the roar of the deadly
muskets, the fatal rifles, and the triumphant shouts of the victors.
But from which side did they come? Did those shouts mean the defeat of
her husband; or did they mean his triumph? This was the most trying
moment of all--this terrible suspense. If it was his victory, then he
would rejoice to have her share his glory; if his defeat, then he would
need her to soothe his sufferings; so on she pressed to share with him
weal or woe. Crossing the Wilmington road a few hundred yards below the
bridge, she saw a clump of trees under which were lying perhaps twenty
wounded men. What was this she saw? Her blood froze in her veins;
her heart leapt to her mouth, for there was the vision realized. The
scene before her--she knew it as well as if she had seen it a thousand
times; the spot, the trees, the position of the men, the groans of the
wounded, and her sight fell upon a body lying in the midst of the
group, her brain became dizzy, and the world seemed whirling around
her at the rate of ten thousand miles a second--there lay a body,
motionless, bloody, ghostly, wrapped in her husband's cloak. Her whole
soul became centered in that one spot. "How I passed from my saddle
to this place I never knew," she said afterwards; but in some way she
succeeded in reaching the body, and mechanically uncovered the head.
She saw before her an unrecognizable face crusted with dust and blood
from a gash across the temple. What a relief to her aching heart was
the strange voice which begged her for a drink of water! Her senses
came back to her at once so she was able to minister to the sufferer's
wants. She gave him a swallow as she held the drooping head in her
lap; and with what remained of the water, bathed the dirt and gore
from the face. From the ghastly crust came the pale face of one of
her neighbors, Frank Cogdell. Under the gentle care of his nurse, he
revived enough to speak, and when she attempted to dress the wound on
the head, he managed to gasp out:
"It's not that; it's the hole in my leg that's killing me."
Lifting the wounded leg from the puddle of blood in which it lay she
gently cut away the trousers and stockings and found a shot hole
through the fleshy part of the limb. What nerve it must have taken for
this young girl, unused to such work, alone, without help or advice,
to go through with the painful ordeal. But she was of the stuff of
which North Carolina moulds her heroes, and she did not flinch from
her duty. Gathering a handful of heart leaves, the only thing in sight
suitable for binding the wound, she tied these tight to the hole and
the bleeding stopped. No sooner had she completed this pressing duty,
than she turned to others of the unfortunate men who lay in pain and
need and, as she says, "dressed the wounds of many a brave fellow who
did good fighting long after that day." During all this time, the
first anxiety for her husband relieved, she had not had time to make
inquiries after him, but with true heroism devoted herself to the
more pressing duties of the moment. While she was busily engaged in
bringing home to these poor fellows the blessings of a woman's care,
General Caswell rode up. With great surprise at seeing Mrs. Slocumb, he
raised his hat and was about to address her with a compliment, when she
interrupted him with the question:
"Where is my husband?"
"Where he ought to be, madam; in pursuit of the enemy. But pray, how
came you here?"
"Oh," she replied, carelessly, "I thought you would need nurses as well
as soldiers. See! I have dressed many of these good fellows." Then
pointing to Frank Cogdell, she continued, "Here is one who would have
died before any of you men could have helped him." As she spoke she
lifted Frank's head in her arms and gave him a drink of water. When she
raised her head, there before her stood her astonished husband, "as
bloody as a butcher and as muddy as a ditcher."
"Why, Mary," he exclaimed, "what are you doing there, hugging Frank
Cogdell, the greatest reprobate in the army?"
"I don't care," she cried. "Frank is a brave fellow, a good soldier and
a true friend of congress."
"True, true, every word of it," exclaimed Caswell, who stood by much
amused at the scene. "You are right, madam," with a bow that would have
shamed Chesterfield himself.
Mrs. Slocumb says she could not tell her husband what had brought her
there. "I was so happy," she says, "and so were all. It was a glorious
victory; I came just at the height of the enjoyment. I knew my husband
was surprised, but I could see that he was not displeased with me."
It was of course long into the night before the excitement subsided.
The news spread like wild fire, and the Whigs all over the country
heard it with rejoicing and thanksgiving; and everywhere the news
of the victory was heard, went also the story of the heroine, her
brave ride, her heaven-sent aid, her soothing care of the wounded and
suffering. Many a soldier breathed a prayer of thanks for the vision
which came to her and for her courageous response. But the prettiest
side of the story is the simple and unaffected way in which she looked
upon her act. Nothing of force or beauty can be added to her own simple
and touching words about her return home. After staying in camp long
enough to offer intercession in behalf of the unfortunate prisoners and
to receive assurance from Caswell that they would be well treated, she
prepared to start home. "In the middle of the night," she says simply,
without thinking apparently of her course, "I again mounted my mare,
and started home. Caswell and my husband wanted me to stay till next
morning and they would send a party with me, but no! I wanted to see my
child, and told them they could send no party that could keep up with
me. What a happy ride I had back! and with what joy did I embrace my
child as he ran to meet me!"
This is a story full of meaning and significance to him who loves his
state; who admires her noble women, and brave men; who glories in her
heroic deeds and great achievements. As long as the old North State can
produce such women as Mary Slocumb, she need entertain no fears as to
what her men will be.--R. D. W. CONNOR, Wilmington, N. C., _in American
Monthly Magazine_.
THE HOBSON SISTERS.
"Come in girls, I'll find her. She just knows everything about
everybody's grand parents. Oh, Grandmother!" called Agnes, as she
ushered the bevy of girls about her own age into the cherry sitting
room, one October afternoon, and ran to tell her grandmother of her
visitors.
It did not require a second call for Mrs. Martin to respond, and in her
quaint way she cordially greeted her youthful quests, well known to her
and her grand-daughter's friends, "Elizabeth," "Mary" and "Lucy Kent."
When the customary salutations and courteous inquiries had been
exchanged, Lucy Kent, anxious to make known the object of their visit,
explained:
"Agnes said you knew everything about everybody's ancestors, and our
teacher told us today that we must bring in tomorrow our lines of
descent, as far back as we could trace; also tell any family tradition
or any incident in the lives of our ancestors in connection with the
war of the Revolution, especially, she said, anything the women did."
"I don't see how the women could have done anything, when it was all
fighting," added Mary, as if in apology.
And I said, "Grandmother, you could tell us, because I had heard you go
over it all, way back to Adam," said Agnes reassuringly.
"Not quite so far back, my dear, yet I can give each of you some
interesting accounts of your ancestors, but the story would have to be
a long one and you might weary of it," said Mrs. Martin hesitatingly.
"Oh do, Grandmother," pleaded Agnes.
"But Wednesday is my day for darning the stockings, and"--
"Oh, we'll darn the stockings, so do begin," exclaimed several voices
in chorus, and a rush was made for the sewing basket, and then the
little girls sat demurely, waiting to hear the promised story,
industriously plying the needle, and filling the holes with the thread.
"This portrait that you see here on the wall," began Mrs. Martin,
pointing to the one in front of them, "is the grandmother of my
grandmother. She is one of the Hobson sisters and you, Agnes, are
seventh in direct line of descent from her through the Bacons and
Carrs and Wares. It is a singular coincidence that you and your little
friends here, all come from this same family of Hobson. 'Birds of a
feather flocking together,'" chuckled the old lady, evidently pleased
to see the friendship existing between the children in this generation,
who were representatives of one of the best Georgia families and of the
staunchest and truest supporters of the cause of American Independence.
"These Hobsons," continued she, "were daughters and sons of Nicholas
Hobson, of Lunenburg County, Virginia, son of Matthew Hobson, of
Henrico. As you already know, Georgia was largely settled by colonists
from Virginia. It is not surprising to find the younger members of the
Hobson family removing later to Georgia, for young folks are always
looking for the best place to locate, and this is what the husbands
and wives in the Hobson family did, moved to Georgia and located at
Augusta."
"But you were telling about the portrait," interposed Mary. "Is she
Agnes Hobson?"
"Yes, Agnes Hobson, born July 4th, 1740, and wife of William Bacon,
born January 29, 1732, who was a Revolutionary soldier, and a member
of the Provincial Congress 1775, as was also his brother John Bacon.
Agnes had sisters Elizabeth, Sarah, Obedience, Mary and Margaret, and
brothers Matthew, William, Nicholas and John Hobson. Ten children in
the Hobson family, in the home in Lunenburg County, Virginia. My! what
fine men and women, with the love of country, and the sacredness of the
cause of freedom instilled in their hearts from infancy."
"Well, what did Agnes Hobson do?" questioned Mary.
"I was just about to tell you Mary, men and women are great and
are heroic when they can rise to meet the occasion which necessity
presents. So at this particular crisis in the affairs during the war of
the Revolution, it became necessary to convey a message from Colonel
Clark, in Georgia, to General Nathaniel Greene, who was then in South
Carolina. In 1781, the British being in possession of Augusta, General
Greene determined to march into South Carolina, and Colonel Clark
and McCall proceeded to co-operate by annoying the British posts in
Georgia. General Clark determined in May to attack. This information
must be conveyed to General Greene at once. As the enemy's line would
have to be crossed, it would not be possible to send the despatch by
a man with the hope that he would ever reach General Greene alive.
He would not only be held as a prisoner, but searched and probably
hung. In those days petticoats were flags of truce. So, here was a
woman's opportunity. But what woman would? In those days the country's
affairs were freely and intelligently discussed by men and women, and
there were no braver women than the Hobsons. Nothing daunted, Agnes
volunteered to convey the despatch. Her brother-in-law, Nathaniel
Bacon, had gone to South Carolina to assist Colonel Pickens who was
maneuvering between Augusta and Ninety Six. Nathaniel was a Captain
in Pickens' Brigade. She would reach him and through him convey this
message to General Greene's headquarters. With the papers safely
folded in her bosom she plunged into the swollen current of the
Savannah River, and borne by her trusty horse, reached the Carolina
shore in safety. Reaching her destination and fulfilling her mission,
she recrossed the enemy's line, performing the act of a courier,
swimming on horse back the Savannah River, and riding many, many miles
unattended, because a woman's service was needed at this crisis in the
war for American Independence."
"Did you say one of these Hobson sisters was my ancestor, and did she
do anything heroic?" asked Mary inspired by this recital.
"Oh, yes" answered Mrs. Martin, "This was Elizabeth, the wife of Capt.
Sherwood Bugg. There is a love story there."
"A love story" inquired Lucy Kent, "How interesting it grows! Please
tell us this one."
Grandmother, pleased at her interested audience, continued her story of
the Hobson sisters.
"Elizabeth Hobson, wife of Capt. Sherwood Bugg, (Legionary Corps,
Jackson Legion) came with her husband and her brothers John and Matthew
Hobson to Richmond County, Georgia, 1765-67. John died soon after
his arrival in Georgia. Matthew married Miss Burke. He also lived in
Augusta, was a Revolutionary soldier and an ardent patriot. It was at
his house that the Executive Council met after the capture of Savannah
by the British. It is said that General Washington was the guest of
Matthew Hobson during his stay in Augusta, while on his triumphant tour
through Georgia and the South."
"Elizabeth Hobson was no less a heroine than was her sister Agnes, nor
less a patriot than were her brothers Matthew, William and Nicholas.
Her house on her plantation, near Augusta, Beech Island, she converted
into a refuge and hospital for the patriots and Continental Soldiers,
where they were cared for and nursed back to health. Among these
patriots were Colonels Clark and McCall, and Major Carter, who in spite
of the care bestowed upon him died there from his wounds. Another,
Colonel John Jones, of Burke County, received the tenderest treatment
at the home of Mrs. Bugg. Colonel Jones had received eight sabre cuts
on the head and was desperately wounded at Earle Fort, on the Pacolet
River, during the night attack by the British and Tories. During his
illness at Beech Island, his brother Abraham Jones and sister Sallie
Jones came to visit him. The acquaintance thus brought about between
the Jones and Bugg families, culminated later in the marriage of two
couples. Sarah Ann Jones married young Sherwood Bugg, and following
their example Abram Jones married Sally Bugg. From these descended the
Phinizys and Hamiltons and Jones and Lamars, from whom you, Elizabeth
and Mary and Lucy Kent are descended."
"You said, grandmother, that 'Ned Brace' of 'The Georgia Scenes,' came
from the Hobson sisters," reminded Agnes, anxious that nothing be left
untold.
"So he did; 'Ned Brace,' who was Edmund Bacon, was a grandson of
Obedience Hobson, who married John Bacon. I spoke of him in the
beginning as the brother of William Bacon, who married Agnes Hobson,
and there is a sweet story tradition which tells of Obedience. On one
occasion she was approached by a British officer, who had reason to
believe that Obedience knew the whereabouts of her husband, John Bacon.
'Do you know where he is?' sternly demanded the officer as he leveled
his gun at her head. 'Yes,' replied Obedience, not daring to tell a
lie."
"'Where?' thundered the officer. Gaining strength at each stage of
their interview, Obedience lifted her head and replied defiantly:
"I have hid him--in my heart and you will have to kill me to find him."
"Then, there was another sister, Sarah, who married William Fox. The
old people used to speak of them as 'Sister Bacon' and 'Sister Bugg'
and 'Sister Fox.' Margaret married a Telfair and Mary Married William
Bilbo. Nicholas Hobson married Miss de Graffenried and William,--well,
my memory fails me now,--but I suppose I have given you tradition and
incident sufficient for tomorrow's lesson, so far as you are personally
interested."
"Oh, yes, and thank you so much" exclaimed each of the circle of
friends, and with affectionate goodbyes their pleasant interview
ended.--SALLIE MARSHALL MARTIN HARRISON, Oglethorpe Chapter, Columbus,
Ga.
WASHINGTON'S MARCH THROUGH SOMERSET COUNTY, NEW JERSEY.
ADELINE W. VOORHEES STILLWELL.
The battle of Trenton thoroughly aroused General Howe, who at once
collected 7,000 men at Princeton. Washington had but 5,000 men. On
January 3 the battle of Princeton took place and the Americans were
again victorious, but the men were so completely exhausted that
Washington was forced reluctantly to abandon his project of capturing
the stores at New Brunswick and to seek the hill country, where his men
might obtain the rest and refreshment they so much needed.
Reforming his columns, the General passed along the King's Highway to
Van-Tillburgh's Inn, at Kingston, which was standing not many years
ago. Here, turning to the left on the narrow Rocky Hill road, he
marched his way-worn men down the valley of the Millstone.
Arrayed in the Continental blue and buff as he sat on his horse with
all that martial dignity peculiar to himself, Washington came as a
conqueror, welcomed by the enthusiastic populace.
Much of interest appertaining to this march to Morristown is to be
learned from the manuscript diary of Captain Thomas Rodney of the Dover
Light Infantry, which is preserved by his descendants.
When the van of the American army reached the bridge which spanned
the Millstone in front of the residence of Christopher Hoagland, near
Griggstown, the British cavalry appeared in considerable force on the
opposite bank. The condition of Washington's men was such that he
desired neither to pursue nor be pursued, so he ordered the bridge
broken up. This being done the enemy was forced to retire, which would
lead one to suppose that the depth of the river was much greater then
than now. Commissaries were sent forward to notify the inhabitants of
the approach of the troops and to direct that food be prepared for
their refreshment. The home of Abraham Van Doren, like many others, was
the scene of great excitement and special activity that day. I quote
from a paper read before the Somerset County Historical Society several
years ago by his great-grandson, Rev. Wm. H. Van Doren: "Abraham Van
Doren was a most prosperous and prominent member of the community. He
owned the grist mill which did a large business between Trenton and
New Brunswick. Besides the mill he owned the store (ruins of which are
still standing), a feed mill, a saw mill, a carding mill and power
loom, a cider mill and distillery, a cooperage, a work and wagon shop,
two blacksmith shops and a lath mill, besides six or seven hundred
acres of land. The mills and store houses were filled with flour,
grain, whiskey and lumber, awaiting a favorable opportunity of shipment
to New York. The general 'killing,' as it was called, had just been
finished. The beeves and hogs and other animals designed for the next
year's use had just been laid down, so that, what had never before
occurred in the history of the settlement, there was now a whole year's
labor stored up, a Providential supply for a great necessity which
no human wisdom could have foreseen. Before noon the whole hamlet of
Millville, as Griggstown was then called, was ablaze with excitement
and activity. Soon the old Dutch ovens were roaring hot and bread and
pone, shortcake, mince and other pies, beef, ham and pork, sausage and
poultry, were cooking and roasting to feed the General and his staff.
Not the officers alone, but the whole rank and file of the army was
coming and right royally they feasted." There are many interesting
traditions which are cherished in the Van Doren family relating to this
visit of Washington and his army.
As soon as the troops had been fed and had an hour or two of rest,
Washington found that Cornwallis, enraged that he had been so tricked
as to allow his foe to escape while he slept, and fearing for his
military stores at New Brunswick, had put his whole army in motion.
So hurriedly calling his men to "fall in," Washington hastened with
them to Somerset Court House, now Millstone. It was about dusk and here
they encamped for the night. Washington and some of his staff quartered
at the residence of John Van Doren, which is this house. Here also
still stands the old barn where the General's horse was stabled. Until
recently the house was occupied by a great-grandson of the man who was
the proud host for one night of the Father of our Country. This family,
too, have many interesting traditions of this memorable visit. We note
that two men by the name of Van Doren, within twenty-four hours, were
honored by being permitted to entertain the commander-in-chief of the
Continental army.
The main body of the army encamped for the night near the present
Dutch Church parsonage, in close proximity to the Court House, which
was afterward burned. Early the following morning the column was again
pushing northward, crossing the Raritan at Van Veghten's bridge,
now Finderne. Not far from this bridge stood the old First Dutch
Church of the Raritan on the ground donated by Michael Van Veghten,
whose tombstone is still standing in the little "God's Acre," which
surrounded the edifice. This building, like the Court House, was burned
with all the priceless records by General Simcoe's men.
Rodney states that Washington was again tempted to march to New
Brunswick, still having in mind the rich stores there which would be
of such inestimable value to him. However, again out of consideration
for his troops, he abandoned the project. After crossing at Finderne
they marched up the river to the old road turning west, just north
of Bernard Meyers' house to Tunison's Tavern, now the "Somerset" in
Somerville, field to the right, passed up Grove Street and continued
over the hills to Pluckemin. The sick and wounded were cared for in the
village while the Lutheran Church was used as a temporary prison for
the captured men.
It was at this time that Leslie, the young British officer who had been
wounded and so tenderly cared for by Dr. Rush of Philadelphia, having
died, was laid to rest with full military honors. Many of us have seen
the stone in the church yard at Pluckemin which marks his resting place.
Sunday, January 5, 1777, was a great day for Pluckemin. News of
Washington's presence, and that of his army, quickly spread throughout
the surrounding country, and we can well imagine the eagerness with
which the people flocked in to get the latest news of the war and
perchance of their loved ones. The Mathew Lane house is said to be the
house where the General was quartered.
Early on the morning of January 6 Pluckemin lost, suddenly as it had
gained, the distinction of being the headquarters of the army.
Rested and refreshed, it was probably the most peaceful and
satisfactory march experienced since leaving Hackensack three months
before with Cornwallis at their heels.
Secure now from pursuit the little army in good heart travelled slowly
along the narrow road called the Great Road from Inman's Ferry, New
Brunswick, passing Bedminster Church to Bedminster. Some authorities
say they then crossed the north branch of the Raritan at Van der
Veer's Mills, but Mr. Joshua Doughty, of Somerville, who seldom makes
an assertion which he cannot prove by the records, tells me that
they did not cross the river at that point, but filed to the right,
going through "Muggy Hollow," the road which Lord Sterling used in
going from his place to the sea shore at Amboy; then passing through
Liberty Corner and Basking Ridge, with frequent halts, they climbed
the Bernards hills to Vealtown, Bernardsville, and on to New Vernon,
and just as the sun was sinking in the west reached Morristown.
After a weary pilgrimage they were for the time being safe in winter
quarters.--_American Monthly Magazine._
HANNA ARNETT.
BY MRS. MARY LOCKWOOD.
The days were dark and hopeless, the hearts of our forefathers were
heavy and cast down. Deep, dark despondency had settled upon them.
Defeat after defeat had followed our army until it was demoralized,
and despair had taken possession of them. Lord Cornwallis, after his
victory at Fort Lee, had marched his army to Elizabethtown, New Jersey,
and there encamped. This was in that memorable December, 1776. The Howe
brothers had already issued their celebrated proclamation, that offered
protection to all that would seek refuge under the British flag within
sixty days and declare themselves British subjects, and take an oath
binding themselves to not take up arms against the mother country or
induce others to do so.
In one of the many spacious homes of the town, there had assembled
a goodly number of the foremost men of the time to discuss the
feasibility of accepting the proffered proclamation. We are much
inclined to the belief that enthusiasm, bravery, indomitable courage
and patriotism were attributes that took possession of our forefathers
and held on to them until they became canonized beatitudes, upon which
the sires alone had a corner, but we find on close scrutiny that there
were times when manly hearts wavered, and to courage was added a
prefix, and this was one of them.
For hours the council went on, the arguments were sincere, grave but
faltering. Some thought that the time had fully come to accept the
clemency offered--others shook their heads, but the talk went on until
every soul in the room had become of one mind, courage, bravery,
patriotism, hope, honor, all were swept away by the flood-tide of
disaster.
There was one listener from whom the council had not heard. In an
adjoining room sat Hannah Arnett, the wife of the host. She had
listened to the debate, and when the final vote was reached she could
no longer constrain herself. She sprang to her feet and, throwing open
the parlor door, in her majesty confronted that group of counsels.
Picture a large room with a low ceiling, furnished with the
heavily-carved furniture of those days, dimly lighted by wax candles,
and a fire in the huge fire-place. Around a table sat a group of
anxious disheartened-looking men. Before them stood the fair dame in
the antique costume of the day. Imagination will picture her stately
bearing as she entered into their august presence. The indignant scorn
upon her lips, the flash of her blue eyes, her commanding figure and
dignified presence brought every man to his feet.
Consternation and amazement for the moment ruled supreme. The husband
advanced toward her, shocked and chagrined that his wife had so
forgotten herself; that she should come into the midst of a meeting
where politics and the questions of the hour were being discussed. He
would shield her now. The reproof he would give later on, and so he was
quickly at her side, and whispering, said to her:
"Hannah! Hannah! this is no place for you. We do not want you here just
now."
He would have led her from the room.
She was a mild, amiable woman, and was never known to do aught against
her husband's wishes, but if she saw him now she made no sign, but
turned upon the astonished group:
"Have you made your decision, gentlemen?" she asked. "I stand before
you to know; have you chosen the part of men or traitors?"
It was a direct question, but the answer was full of sophistry,
explanation, and excuse.
"The case was hopeless, the army was starving, half clothed and
undisciplined, repulses everywhere. We are ruined and can stand out no
longer against England and her unlimited resources."
Mrs. Arnett, in dignified silence, listened until they had finished,
and then she asked: "But what if we should live after all?"
"Hannah! Hannah!" said her husband in distress. "Do you not see that
these are no questions for you? We are doing what is best for you--for
all. Women have no share in these topics. Go to your spinning-wheel
and leave us to settle affairs. My good little wife, you are making
yourself ridiculous. Do not expose yourself in this way before our
friends."
Every word he uttered was to her as naught. Not a word had she heard;
not a quiver of the lip or tremor of an eyelash. But in the same
strangely sweet voice she asked: "Can you tell me if, after all, God
does not let the right perish, if America should win in the conflict,
after you had thrown yourself on British clemency, where will you be
then?"
"Then," said one, "we should have to leave the country. But that is too
absurd to think of in the condition our country and our army are."
"Brother," said Mrs. Arnett, "you have forgotten one thing which
England has not, and which we have--one thing which outweighs all
England's treasures, and that is the right. God is on our side, and
every volly of our muskets is an echo of His voice. We are poor,
and weak, and few, but God is fighting for us; we entered into this
struggle with pure hearts and prayerful lips; we had counted the cost
and were willing to pay the price, were it in our own heart's blood.
And now because for a time the day is going against us, you would give
up all, and sneak back like cravens to kiss the feet that have trampled
upon us. And you call yourselves men--the sons of those who gave up
home and fortune and fatherland to make for themselves and for dear
liberty a resting place in the wilderness? Oh, shame upon you cowards!"
"Gentlemen," said Arnett, with an anxious look on his face. "I beg you
to excuse this most unseemly interruption to our council. My wife is
beside herself, I think. You all know her, and know it is not her wont
to meddle in politics, or to bawl and bluster. Tomorrow she will see
her folly, but now I pray your patience."
Her words had already begun to leaven the little manhood remaining in
their bosoms, but not a word was spoken. She had turned the light of
her soul upon them, and in the reflection they saw photographed their
own littleness of purpose or want of manly resolve.
She still talked on: "Take your protection if you will; proclaim
yourselves traitors and cowards, false to your God! but horrible will
be the judgment you will bring upon your heads and the heads of those
that love you. I tell you that England will never conquer. I know it,
and feel it in every fibre of my heart. Has God led us so far to desert
now? Will He who led our fathers across the stormy, wintry sea forsake
their children, who have put their trust in Him? For me, I stay with my
country, and my hand shall never touch the hand nor my heart cleave to
the heart of him who shames her."
While these words were falling from her lips she stood before them like
a tower of strength, and, turning toward her husband, she gave him
a withering look that sent a shock through every fibre of his body.
Continuing, she said: "Isaac, we have lived together for twenty years,
and through all of them I have been to you a true and loving wife; but
I am the child of God and my country, and if you do this shameful thing
I will never own you again as my husband."
"My dear wife!" answered Isaac, excitedly, "you do not know what you
are saying. Leave me for such a thing as this!"
"For such a thing as this?"
"What greater cause could there be?" answered the injured wife. "I
married a good man and true, a faithful friend, and it needs no
divorce to sever me from a traitor and a coward. If you take your
protection you lose your wife, and I--I lose my husband and my home."
The scornful words, uttered in such earnestness; the pathetic tones
in which these last words were spoken; the tears that dimmed her sad
blue eyes, appealed to the heart of every man before her. They were not
cowards all through, but the panic sweeping over the land had caught
them also.
The leaven of courage, manliness and resolution had begun its work.
Before these men left the home of Hannah Arnett that night every man
had resolved to spurn the offered amnesty, and had taken a solemn oath
to stand by their country through good days and bad, until freedom was
written over the face of this fair land.
There are names of men who fought for their country and won distinction
afterward, who were in this secret council, but the name of Hannah
Arnett figures on no roll of honor.
Where will the "Sons and Daughters of the Revolution" place Hannah
Arnett?--_American Monthly Magazine._
BUTTON GWINNETT.
Georgia was the youngest of the thirteen original colonies. At the
Provincial Congress which convened in Savannah, January 20, 1776, there
were elected five delegates to the Continental Congress, namely: Dr.
Lyman Hall, Button Gwinnett, George Walton, Archibald Bulloch, and John
Houston. Of these Button Gwinnett, Dr. Lyman Hall, and George Walton
were present at the session of the National Assembly, which convened in
Philadelphia on May 20th, and pledged Georgia with the United Colonies
on July 4, 1776, by affixing their signatures to the Declaration of
Independence.
Button Gwinnett, the subject of this sketch, was said to have been born
in England about 1732. He was a merchant in Bristol, England, from
which place he emigrated to America in 1770, located in Charleston, S.
C., and in 1772 moved to Savannah, Georgia, at which time he bought a
large part of St. Catharine's Island, and engaged in farming. He died
tragically on May 27, 1777, as a result of a pistol shot wound in a
duel with General Lachlan McIntosh, near Savannah on the morning of May
16, 1777.
The records give only limited information, and from careful
investigation, at times it appears that the statements do not bear out
the correct facts with regard to the biography of Button Gwinnett. In
Harper's "Cyclopaedia of United States History," Page 190, Vol. 4, the
statement is made that Gwinnett was "cautious and doubtful, and took
no part in political affairs until after the Revolutionary War was
begun." Also that McIntosh challenged Gwinnett for a duel. Subsequent
acts would not indicate that the first statement conforms to his
real temperament, and it appears from the best obtainable data that
Gwinnett issued the challenge to McIntosh. It is true that having been
a resident of America only a few years, he was in some doubt at first
as to whether he would support the colonies, or throw his influence
against them, but he was a man of strong convictions, ambitious, and
possessed of great force of character, and his brief political career
was meteoric. Unfortunately his strong prejudices and desire for
political preferment led to the tragedy of his premature death.
He located in Georgia in 1772, was elected a delegate to the Provincial
Congress, which convened in Savannah, January 20, 1776, and by this
congress was made a delegate to the Continental Congress, which
convened in Philadelphia, May 20, 1776. July 4, 1776, he signed the
Declaration of Independence. He became a member of the Council of
Safety, and was an important factor in framing the first Constitution
of Georgia.
Archibald Bulloch, who was the first President and Commander-in-Chief
of Georgia, died suddenly in Feb. 1777. Button Gwinnett, on March
4th, was elected to fill this vacancy until a Governor could be duly
elected. Col. Lachlan McIntosh had been promoted to the rank of
Brigadier-General, and was placed in charge of the Militia of Georgia.
Button Gwinnett was envious of this promotion of General McIntosh, and
through jealousy and revenge he so interfered with the military affairs
as to seriously jeopardize discipline, and create insubordination
towards General McIntosh as Commander-in-Chief. Personally ambitious,
Gwinnett planned an expedition against Florida, and further humiliated
and insulted General McIntosh by ignoring him as Ranking Military
Officer of Georgia, and took command of the expedition himself. It is a
matter of historical record that the expedition was a complete failure.
John Adams Treutland was elected Governor over Gwinnett. McIntosh had
become a warm supporter of Treutland, and openly denounced Button
Gwinnett as a scoundrel. As a result, Gwinnett challenged McIntosh
for a duel, which was promptly accepted, and fought with pistols at a
distance of eight feet, near Savannah, May 16, 1777. At the first shot
both were wounded, Gwinnett's leg being broken and he fell. It is said
he asked his seconds to raise him that he might shoot again, but his
request was denied, and he was taken from the field. The weather was
very warm, and septic fever soon developed, which proved fatal on the
27th of May following.
Thus ended the meteoric life of Button Gwinnett, who, within the short
space of less than two years, sprang from obscurity into prominence,
and whose life was brought to a sudden and tragic end at the hands of
another, and whose grave today is in some obscure and unknown spot.
"FORCED BY PIRATES TO WALK THE PLANK."
Theodosia Burr, wife of Governor Alston of South Carolina, was
considered a beautiful and unusually brave woman of Revolutionary days.
It is of her that this legend is told.
After her father's defeat as candidate for Governor of New York, in
1804, she left Charleston by water route to offer her sympathy and love
during his trying ordeal. The ship of which she was a passenger was
captured by pirates with murderous intent. Theodosia Burr was forced
to walk a plank backward into the watery deep, her eyes were tightly
blind-folded with a handkerchief and in this gruesome manner she met
her death.
Later on in years an old pirate confessed upon his death bed that this
beautiful daughter of Aaron Burr, whom he had helped put to death,
walked the plank with the greatest composure; never once did she
give vent to her feelings. This was the news conveyed to her parents
after years of fruitless search for their beloved daughter, Theodosia
Burr.--EDNA ARNOLD COPELAND, Stephen Heard Chapter, Elberton, Ga.
GEORGIA WOMEN OF EARLY DAYS.
When the full meed of recognition to which she is entitled, is given
by the historian to the part which woman played in the founding and
evolution of the colony of Georgia into one of the sovereign states of
the American union--when her part in the bloody tale of the achievement
of American Independence is fully told and final justice done on
history's page to the hardships which she suffered in freedom's name,
to her marvellous courage, to her fortitude, to her patience, to her
self-denial and heroic sacrifice, then will the poet find new themes
for epic song, the artist fresh riches for his easel, the romancer a
new field for historical fiction and every patriotic American a deeper
veneration for the flag whose primal baptism was of blood so precious
and heroic.
As a curtain-raiser to the story of the heroines of the Revolution, two
notable women of colonial days appear and claim the tribute of more
than a passing mention by reason of the picturesque place which they
occupy in the early history of the province, and because of the unique
and momentous service which they rendered to the colony of Georgia.
When General Oglethorpe, dreaming of an empire of the west, attempted
to secure a treaty with the aborigines and permission to plant his
colony on the virgin soil of Georgia, it was a woman's hand that
unlocked the door and bade him enter. It was a woman's diplomatic tact
and ascendant influence with the Indian tribes that accomplished the
cession of Georgia. Mary Musgrove, an Indian, the wife of a Carolina
planter, negotiated with Tomichichi, the Yamacraw Chief, for the
sale of the territory whose boundaries ran from the Savannah to the
Altamaha and westward to the mythical "South Seas,"--a body of lands so
vast that the Georgia of to-day is but a minor part of the territory
originally ceded.
Thus we find that the first real estate agent that ever closed a
"deal"--the biggest that ever was or ever will be in Georgia--was a
woman, and the first Georgia manufacturer was a woman as well--Mary
Camuse, the wife of Lewis Camuse.
From the business tact, enterprise and industry of Mary Camuse resulted
the first recorded exportation to England of the first manufactured
article which left our shores, forty-five pounds, two ounces
avoirdupois weight of silk, cultivated and woven by her hand.
A glance at the minutes of the trustees of the colony reveals this
quaint and interesting entry:
"August 7th, 1742. Resolved, That it is recommended to the common
council, to give Mrs. Camuse a gratuity for every person who shall
be certified to be properly instructed by her in the art of winding
silk."
The art of wearing silk, with grace and elegance, could, I feel
assured, be taught to any one who might seek to profit thereby, by the
stately matrons whose names adorn the roster of the Atlanta Chapter of
the Daughters of the American Revolution, but the art of winding silk,
such as the trustees encouraged by their bounty, is, I very much fear,
at this time in Georgia what we might call one of the "lost arts."
Passing from Mrs. Musgrove and Mrs. Camuse to the Georgia women of the
Revolution, I beg leave to state that I have sought in this paper to
give only such names and incidents as are authenticated by historical
reference or by well established tradition. I am by no means assured
that the list is full,--indeed, I am strongly inclined to the opinion
that it is largely incomplete, notwithstanding the somewhat exhaustive
research which has been made in ancient archives and time-worn
histories.
It is generally accepted that the most conspicuous figure among the
Georgia women of the Revolution is the famous Amazon of Elbert County,
the redoubtable Nancy Hart. She was undoubtedly the foremost fighter
from the ranks of the colonial dames North or South, and her brave and
thrilling exploits were indubitably of a rank and character to entitle
her to an exalted place in the American temple of fame.
The portrait of Nancy Hart while in repose, is that of a formidable
warrior--when in action, she must have been a female Apollyon, dire and
terrible, a veritable incarnation of slaughter and threatenings. Six
feet in height, cross-eyed, ungainly in figure, redheaded, big hands,
big feet, broad mouth, massive jaw, sharp of tongue and rude in speech,
she was a picture before which a Redcoat, a Tory, or a bachelor, well
might quail. "She was a honey of a patriot but the devil of a wife," is
the reading of the record--the tribute of a neighbor who lived in the
bloody times which made her known to fame.
It is related that in later years, a resolution was introduced in the
legislature of Georgia providing for an equestrian statue of General
Jackson--representing his horse in the act of plunging forward, the
warrior pointing his sword with martial eagerness towards the foe--to
be placed in the capitol of Georgia. A patriotic member of the body
arose in the assembly and protested that he would not vote for the
resolution unless the legislature should likewise authorize a painting
of Nancy Hart fording the Broad River with a tory prisoner, bare-headed
and bare armed, her dress tucked up, her jaws set, her big hands
suggestively pointing the musket at her cringing captive.
It does seem a matter for regret that some such recognition is not
given by the State to the daring and valor of this Georgia heroine. The
history of no other nation can boast of a braver or more invincible
woman, and it should be a matter of state pride among Georgians to
honor her memory and commemorate with painter's brush, or sculptor's
chisel, her splendid and heroic achievements in the cause of American
Independence.
The fame which Nancy Hart achieved as a fighting patriot is perhaps
equaled by Jane Latouche Cuyler as the political heroine in Georgia,
of the Revolution. This picturesque and remarkable woman was the
widow of Telemon Cuyler, a wealthy mariner. She lived at the corner
of Bull and Broughton streets in Savannah. Mrs. Cuyler was of French
descent and inherited the fiery and mercurial temperament of her
Gallic ancestors. She is accorded the distinction of being the first
patriot at Savannah to don a liberty cap, which she persistently wore,
to the grim displeasure, and despite the intimidating attitude, of
the crown governor, Sir James Wright. Political meetings were held by
the patriots at Mrs. Cuyler's house and it is said, that at one of
these assemblies, a resolution was passed which afterwards formed the
basis of the action of the Provisional Congress in declaring Georgia's
adherence to the revolting colonies and her purpose to join with them
in armed resistance to the authority of the English crown.
At the fall of Savannah, she was taken to Charleston under an escort of
Continental troops and after Charleston had surrendered to Sir Henry
Clinton, the Commissary General of Georgia is said to have caused her
to be transported to Philadelphia, where her expenses were paid by the
commonwealth of Georgia in recognition of her valuable services to the
patriots' cause. So active was her participation in fanning the flame
of revolution and in fomenting armed resistance to the encroachments
of the Crown that Sir James Wright is stated to have offered a reward
for her capture and delivery to the British authorities. She died in
New Jersey after the Revolution, having lived, however, to see the
independence of the colonies for which she had striven with such fervor
and eclat, brought to a happy and successful issue.
After the fall of Savannah, the Continental prisoners were crowded
by the British on board ships lying at anchor in the Savannah River.
These ships were veritable pest houses and many of the prisoners died
of infection and for the want of proper sustenance. Mrs. Mordecai
Shefthall made it her mission to go out in boats provisioned and
manned by her negroes to make the rounds of these floating prisons and
administer such aid and bring such delicacies as she could command to
the imprisoned patriots. This brave and noble woman endeared herself to
the Continental captives and in consequence of these missions of mercy
and her brave solicitude for the unfortunate prisoners, she acquired
the beautiful soubriquet of "the Angel of the Prison Ships."
Yet another woman who administered to the wants and necessities of
these unfortunate soldiers was Mrs. Minis. General Shefthall himself
a Captain, records two important ministrations which she rendered to
his succor and comfort. He says: "In this situation I remained for two
days, without a morsel to eat, when a Hessian officer named Zaltman,
finding that I could talk his language, removed me to his room and
sympathized with me on my situation. He permitted me to send to Mrs.
Minis, who sent me some victuals."
But an equally important service--more of a luxury perhaps than a
necessity, but a most delightful luxury to a gentleman--followed, when
on application to Col. Innis, General Shefthall, records: "I got his
leave to go to Mrs. Minis for a shirt she had taken to wash for me, as
it was the only one I had left, except the one on my back, and that was
given to me by Captain Kappel, as the British soldiers had plundered
both mine and my son's clothes."
In the time allotted for this paper, I have not the opportunity to
discuss at length the character and adventures of Mrs. Johnathan Bryan
who, amidst constant danger from marauding Tory bands, successfully
operated and managed her husband's plantation while he was fighting for
the cause of liberty; nor to deal with the exciting and romantic career
of Sarah Swinton McIntosh, nor to depict the quaint personality of
Winnifred McIntosh, Spinster, the brave and loyal sister of the dashing
"Rory"; nor to draw the picture of Mrs. John Dooly, the tragic murder
of whose husband by the Tories is said to have fired the soul of Nancy
Hart with the fierce flame of vengeance against the brutal Royalists,
who with fire and sword lay waste the unprotected homes of the patriots.
I, therefore, close this crude and hasty sketch with a romance of the
Revolution, a tale which must appeal to every heart because of its
human interest, its bloody setting, its gratifying sequel and by reason
of the fact that one of your own members is a _lineal descendant_ of
the _heroine_ of this pleasing and delightful romance of love and war.
My story is a note from the life of Sarah Ann Jones who was sent from
Burke County, Georgia, to Savannah to a boarding school for young
ladies kept by gentlewomen in sympathy with the Royalist faction of
the colony. So far did the school management display its royalist
sentiment that the school girls were coerced into knitting socks and
making shirts for the enemy during the hours for play and recess, and
were sternly instructed to be true and loyal servants to the King. This
coercion only made the colonial girls more devoted secretly to the
cause of liberty, and when Savannah fell into the hands of the British,
the times were past when educational advantages could be considered
and our little school friend was sent for, and brought home, where it
was thought she could find a safer asylum. With three brothers in the
army, and all her heart with them, she was happy to be at home. But
she was destined to do more for the cause of liberty than fell to the
lot of every quiet maiden of those eventful days. She was sent for not
a great while after her return home to go at once to Beech Island,
near Augusta, to the plantation of Mrs. Sherwood Bugg to help nurse
her brother, Captain John Jones, who had been severely wounded and who
had been brought there, along with many other wounded soldiers, to be
nursed back to life again by every kindly ministration known to the
helpful women of these stirring times.
And so she went and helped to nurse her brother, and there the long,
anxious days were crowned by a budding romance.
Captain Jones was able again to enter the fight for freedom, and then
it was that his lovely young sister, Sarah Ann Jones, found time for
seeing much of the youngest son of her hostess, Sherwood Bugg, Jr.
Love soon bound the young soldier with silken strands, their troth
was plighted and with the consent of both families their marriage was
arranged for. Nothing marred their plans and the young couple settled
after their marriage, on land in Columbia County, Georgia, granted
their families for services rendered during the struggle of 1776 when
young girls and mere boys (too young for regular soldiers) found an
opportunity for working for the cause of their country as nobly as ever
did the soldiers of the line.
Today in a little home of one of your members are to be found two very
plain, _solid, old mahogany tables_ that span these years reaching back
to the Revolution, that belonged to this young couple--a fitting table
on which to pen a love letter and the best exponent of the character of
Revolutionary times, serving not one, but five generations, and even
now in daily use.
This little romance lends additional charm to the beauty and strength
of these old tables, and today, they tell us of the force and nobility
of earlier days and a simpler life.--JAMES WADDY AUSTIN. Read before
Atlanta Chapter by Mrs. Joseph Morgan.
ROBERT SALLETTE.
In studying the lives of noted individuals, we find the written history
of them in many ways so very different.
Some are always before the eyes of the public. They seem to know just
how to arrange, that their words and deeds are known and read of all
men.
Then there are others, perhaps as worthy or perchance even more
so, who are reticent and modest, and the very simplicity of their
lives causes them to shrink from the lime-light, the glare of the
torch and the noise of the trumpet of victory, preferring rather the
inner-consciousness of having done well that which was committed unto
them.
Apart from either of these classes, we find a few who are
unconstrained, who take destiny into their own hands, rough hewing
as they will, and are indifferent alike to either public censure or
applause. In this last division, we would have to place our patriot,
Robert Sallette.
"Neither history nor tradition gives us the place of his birth or the
date of his death, yet it is known that he played a more important part
in the struggle in the Colony than any one man who had no troops at his
command." Like Melchizedek, he seems to have had no beginning or ending
or length of days. It is known that his grave lies in the noted old
cemetery at Midway, Georgia along with many famous revolutionary heroes.
Sallette's bravery was beyond dispute, even to recklessness. His hatred
of the Tories and all subjects of the King was so bitter, that it
caused a price to be set upon his head. Most of us are familiar with
the traditions which the historian, Harris, tells of in his "Stories of
Georgia," where "A Tory of some means offered a reward of one hundred
guineas to any one who would bring him the head of Sallette." The
Tory had never seen Sallette, but his alarm was such, that he offered
a reward large enough to tempt some one to assassinate the daring
partisan. When Sallette heard of the reward, he disguised himself as a
farmer, placed a pumpkin in a bag and took it to the home of the Tory.
He was invited in and deposited the bag on the floor beside him, the
pumpkin striking the boards with a thump. "I have brought you the head
of Robert Sallette," he said. "I hear that you have offered a reward of
one hundred guineas for it."
"Where is it," asked the Tory.
"I have it with me," replied Sallette, shaking the loose end of the
bag. "Count me out the money and take the head."
The Tory neither doubting nor suspecting counted out the money and
placed it on the table.
"Now show me the head," said he.
Sallette removed his hat, tapped himself on the forehead and said,
"Here is the head of Robert Sallette."
The Tory was so frightened that he jumped from the room and Sallette
pocketed the money and departed.
An old inhabitant of Liberty County tells that once two Tory robbers
had gone to some worthy man's house in the lower part of the county
and demanded his money. When he refused, they put a rope around his
neck. Bob Sallette seems to have appeared on the scene and saw what
was taking place across the field. Sallette rushed up on horseback,
yelling with all his might, "Come on, boys, here they are." The Tories,
thinking they were outnumbered and would be captured, ran away.
Sallette took the man in trouble on horseback with him and they made
their escape.
Sallette was not wanting in humor, as we see in the little encounter he
had with the advance guard of the British.
Observing that a dead man, who was a remarkably large man, had on a
pair of good boots, Sallette determined to get them. While pulling them
off, his companion called for him to get away quickly, or he would be
killed. "I must have the boots, I need them, I want them for little
John Way." This was fun in the midst of tragedy, as Mr. Way was a
remarkably small man.
It will be remembered that at a very early period, the citizens of St.
John's Parish (now the County of Liberty) took a very firm stand in
favor of independence. The early, open, and determined resistance, of
this parish did not escape the notice of the enemy, and accordingly it
was made to feel the full measure of royal vengeance. Added to this,
Sallette must have had some special cause for the bitter animosity
and hatred he felt for all Britishers. It was thought (as his name
would indicate) that he descended from the French Acadians, who had
previously suffered much, and often, at the hands of the Britishers,
hence his motto, which was, "never forgive a Tory." If one was ever
liberated he made it his business to follow him and, if possible, take
his life.
Sallette was a roving character, belonging to no particular command. He
fought valiantly and zealously, but always in his own peculiar way and
style. He didn't seem to especially value his own life and, never, the
life of his foe.
Once he dressed as a Britisher and dined with a party of them. While
toasting and merry-making he suddenly drew his sword and killing the
man on either side of him, he jumped on his horse and rode off unhurt,
though he stood not on the order of his going.
We can well understand that with such a daring spirit and cool
calculating brain he was greatly feared by the Tories.
Evidently his thinking was independent, for his style of warfare and
sudden actions kept the enemy uncertain where he would next appear.
Often during a battle he would leave his command and go to the rear of
the enemy and kill a number before he would be discovered.
When Major Baker defeated a body of Tories at the White House near
Sunbury, among the enemies slain was Lieutenant Grey, whose head was
almost severed from his body by a stroke of Robert Sallette's sabre.
Sallette, the scout, was a personal friend of Major Fraser of the
Revolutionary War. Tradition has it that these two men did valiant and
effective service in running out the Tories.
One story is, that these two met a couple of Tories in the road at the
ford of Taylor's Creek and the Tories were never afterwards seen or
heard of, which was characteristic of his manner of dealing with the
enemy.
We know that often when General Marion of South Carolina wanted
some special work done he sent to Liberty County, Georgia, for the
distinguished and intrepid scout, Robert Sallette.
This daring scout performed many deeds to free this land from English
oppression and to enable us to sing:
My country 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty
* * * * *
Long may our land be bright,
With freedom's holy light,
Protect us by thy might,
Great God, our King.
GENERAL LAFAYETTE'S VISIT TO MACON.
The Nation's Guest--Arrangements for his Reception.
(From the Georgia Messenger, Macon, Ga, March 23, 1825.)
A signal gun will be fired as soon as the General and his suite arrive,
on the hill at the old fort. The ladies and gentlemen will proceed to
form themselves immediately in two lines on Bridge Street, near the
ferry, under the direction of the Town Marshal, and A. Mandell, J.
S. Childers, G. B. Wardlaw, E. McCall, R. McCall and Isaiah Chain,
Marshals for the day; the arrangements to be as follows: First, the
Commissioners of the town and Committee of Arrangements on horseback;
second, the ladies; third, the citizens generally. He will be received
by the Commissioners and Committee near the ferry, where he will be
addressed by James S. Frierson, Esq., in behalf of the citizens.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 30TH.--RECEPTION OF LAFAYETTE.
At 12 o'clock yesterday a signal announced his approach, when the
ladies and gentlemen proceeded to form lines on Bridge Street near the
ferry. Owing to the rapidity with which he now travels, he was entirely
unattended by any military escort. The only persons with him were his
son and secretary, and two of the Governor's aids, Cols. Thaddeus G.
Holt and Henry G. Lamar. He dismounted from his carriage and crossed
the river, where he was received by the Committee and Commissioners.
On ascending the bluff he was welcomed to our town in behalf of the
citizens by James S. Frierson, Esq., who said:
"General Lafayette. Sir: I am deputed by the citizens of Macon and
its vicinity to welcome you to this place.
"To tell you, sir, that you were the early, steadfast and constant
friend of this republic in her revolutionary contest, would be
only to say what had been acknowledged by the past and present
generation.
"But that glorious struggle in which your destinies were pledged in
common with the illustrious characters of that day, has eventually
proved that a system of government, now in the history of the
world, a confederative representative democracy, is the best
guarantee for the liberties of a great people, is now confirmed by
the experience of thirty-six years.
"The first State, sir, which you will enter after leaving this,
and those you are now to visit are prominent testimonials of this
sublime truth, unknown in the Revolutionary struggle; a barren
wilderness where the foot of civilized man had scarcely trod,
in this short period had grown in numbers nearly equalling the
original States, entertaining the same political views, the same
veneration for your person and character that we do; you will there
be greeted with the same hospitality that you have met here.
"With hearts full of gratitude for your past service, with
the earnest and intense interest for your future welfare and
prosperity, we all unite in wishing that the evening of your days
may be spent in that calm tranquility and repose of which you were
deprived in your earlier life."
To which the General replied in substance:
"That he was thankful for the manner in which the citizens of Macon
were placed to receive him; that he perfectly accorded in the
opinion that a representative Democracy was the best calculated to
secure the liberties of the people, and requested that the people
of Macon would receive his thanks for the manner in which they had
been pleased to treat him."
A procession then formed and he was conducted to his quarters at the
Macon Hotel. During the moving of the procession a national salute was
fired. Soon after his arrival he was waited upon by the ladies, who
were individually introduced to him; after which every citizen who
wished was introduced, to whom General Lafayette gave a cordial grasp
of the hand.
He was then waited on at his quarters by the brethren of Macon Lodge,
No. 34, and was addressed as follows by Worshipful Ambrose Baber,
Master of the Lodge:
"Brother and General Lafayette: In our humble capacity as brothers
of the mystic union, we welcome you to our infant village. No
triumphal arch, no tinsel show of earthly grandeur greeted your
entry. We offer you a triumph more lasting and noble--the triumph
of gratitude.
"Admonished by that resplendent luminary which rules and governs
the day, and imparts an equal lustre on all mankind twice in every
year, that we have all once been and must again be upon a level,
we have ventured to hail your arrival among us, and to offer you
a welcome in unalloyed gratitude, the spontaneous effusion of our
hearts.
"Illustrious benefactor of mankind. What a train of associations
does thy eventful life excite. Companion and associate of our
immortal Washington. Thine efficient arm hath prostrated oppressive
tyranny--succored, and relieved distressed and agonized humanity,
and established a nation in the full enjoyment of freedom. The
glittering offerings of princes could not dissuade, nor the
appalling frowns of royalty deter you from a life of benevolent
usefulness. The assassins of sanguinary demagogues nor the
loathsome cells of the dungeon mar or destroy your feelings of
philanthropy. Unaltered and unchanged didst thou remain amidst the
calamities and vicissitudes which harrassed thine own distracted
country.
"Behold thy compensation. The gratitude of ten millions of freemen,
the applause and admiration of every nation. Even the wilderness
smiles with joy and the savage is gladdened at thy presence.
"Amidst this jubilee of feeling, permit me to offer you again the
grateful rejoicings of my associates and brethren of the society of
Free Masons, in beholding you among us. Royal tyranny may condemn,
ignorance may reproach and blaspheme the holy mysteries of our
institution; yet with Lafayette for her support the science of
Masonry will continue to illumine and harmonize mankind to endless
ages. Gratitude must have fled from the breast of man, humanity
lose its refuge on earth, and memory lose its seat ere the virtuous
deeds of the generous, amiable, distinguished and exemplary
Lafayette shall be forgotten."
To which the General replied in an animated manner:
"The very grateful reception I have met among my brethren
demands of me an expression of my most sincere and affectionate
acknowledgements. Permit me to declare to you particularly, and
the brethren of your Lodge, an unfeigned obligation for the very
flattering regard you have been pleased to express for me.
"The science of Free Masonry, to which I have for many years been
an humble votary, is wonderfully calculated to alleviate the many
distresses and calamities to which mankind are exposed in their
variegated and manifold duties in society, and when I recur to
those scenes, to which you have been pleased so delicately to
allude, I am constrained to acknowledge how much I have been
cheered, sustained and animated in the various vicissitudes of my
life, by the holy precepts and examples of our institution.
"That you and your Lodge may be blessed with prosperity and
harmony, that the rising town of Macon may continue in its
advancement, that Masonry may flourish, and the citizens enjoy all
the social and intellectual blessings it so eminently inculcates,
I pray you, sir, with the rest of my brethren to accept as my most
sincere and ardent wish."
He remained in town but about two hours and a half, during which time,
he in company with a large number of our citizens, partook of an
excellent dinner prepared by Mr. Stovall. After dinner the following
toast was given by Edward D. Tracy, Esq.:
"Our illustrious guest--the friend of our country, of liberty, and
of man."
To which the General replied, and gave:
"The town of Macon--may its prosperity continue to be one of the
strongest arguments in favor of republican institutions."
Very soon after dinner he bade an affectionate adieu to the gentlemen
and ladies around him and resumed his carriage, at which time another
national salute was fired. He was accompanied by the Committee,
Commissioners of the town and a number of our citizens, on horseback,
several miles on his way. It is understood he intended to lodge at the
Agency; making the whole distance traveled during the day about sixty
miles.
SINGULAR COINCIDENCE OF CIRCUMSTANCES IN THE HISTORY OF LAFAYETTE AND
BOLIVAR.
South Carolina was the first place in the United States in which they
both landed, and at no very distant spots the one near Georgetown, and
the other at Charlestown. Lafayette, a Frenchman, came by the way of
France. Both have most materially contributed to the independence of
the New World--the one in North, the other in South America; and what
is most singular, at the very period in which the one is receiving the
homage of national gratitude in the former--the other has succeeded in
his efforts for the cause of freedom in the latter place.
Among the persons who received Gen. Lafayette at Columbia, was Judge
Waites, who is the only survivor of the party that first received
him at landing on the soil of South Carolina, at Gen. Huger's in
Georgetown.
YES. TOMORROW'S FLAG DAY.
(Tomorrow, June 14, is Flag Day in the United States.)
When Freedom, from her mountain height,
Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night
And set the stars of glory there.
She mingled with the gorgeous dyes
The milky baldric of the skies,
And striped its pure celestial white
With streaklings of the morning light;
Then from his mansion in the sun
She called her eagle to bear down,
And gave into his mighty hand
The symbol of her chosen land.
Majestic monarch of the cloud,
Who rear'st aloft thy regal form
To hear the tempest trumpings loud
And see the lightning lances driven,
When strive the warriors of the storm
And rolls the thunder drum of heaven;
Child of the sun, to thee 'tis given
To guard the banner of the free,
To hover in the sulphur smoke,
To ward away the battle stroke,
And bid its blendings shine afar,
Like rainbows on the cloud of war,
The harbingers of Victory.
Flag of the brave, thy folds shall fly,
The sigh of hope and triumph high,
When speaks the signal trumpet tone,
And the long line comes gleaming on.
Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet,
Has dimmed the glistening bayonet,
Each soldier eye shall brightly turn
To where thy sky-born glories burn,
And as his springing steps advance,
Catch war and vengeance from the glance;
And when the cannon mouthings loud
Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud,
And gory sabres rise and fall,
And cowering foes shall shrink beneath
Each gallant arm that strikes below
That lovely messenger of death.
Flag of the seas, on oceans wave
Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave;
When death, careering in the gale,
Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail,
And frighted waves rush wildly back
Before the broadside's reeling rack,
Each dying wanderer of the sea
Shall look at once to heaven and thee,
And smile to see thy splendors fly
In triumph o'er his closing eye.
Flag of the free heart's hope and home,
By angel hands to valor given,
The stars have lit the welkin dome,
And all thy hues were born in heaven.
Forever float that standard sheet!
Where breathes a foe but falls before us,
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?
--_Drake._
[Illustration: It was here that Betsy Ross designed and made the first
American flag, the original Old Glory.]
FLAG DAY.
Hats off! This is The Flag's birthday. The banner of blue, crimson
and white, is one hundred and thirty-six years old, 1913. Honor the
colors today. The flag represents more than just stars and stripes. It
represents the history of the Great Republic from its cradle to this
very moment:
"Sea fights and land fights, grim and great,
Fought to make and save the State;
Weary marches and sinking ships,
Cheers of victory on dying lips.
Sign of a nation, great and strong,
To ward her people from foreign wrong.
Pride and glory and honor all
Live in the colors, to stand or fall."
Throughout the country the D. A. R.'s are celebrating this great
anniversary of our flag. Honor the flag. It belongs to every American
citizen, whether we live under Northern or Southern skies, whether
the American spirit is enthroned over civilization struggles with its
problems upon the shores of the Pacific, or turns to problems as grave
on this side.
And we are conquering the world under the emblem of Old Glory.
The world turns to us as the maker of Peace, the mightiest since
civilization's dawning, for genuine rule--those "common people," of
whom Lincoln said, "The Lord must love them, he made so many."
The first flag hoisted on American soil about which we have any
authentic record, was that seen by the earliest voyagers to our coasts.
They found that the North American Indians carried a pole covered with
wing feathers of the eagle as a standard.
Columbus, when he landed, October 12th, 1492, on the island of San
Salvador, unfurled upon the shores of the new world the first European
banners. The son of Columbus records that his father, dressed in
scarlet, came ashore with the royal standard of Isabella emblazoned
with the arms of Castile and Leon. He planted this standard together
with its companion, a white flag with a green cross, on this small
island. In the pictures of the ships of the time of Columbus these
flags may be seen streaming from the ship's mast.
In 1499, the Eastern coast of South America was explored by the
Florentine, Americus Vespucius. About the same time the Cabots planted
the banners of England and of St. Mark of Venice on the North American
shores.
The Red Cross of St. George was first raised on American shores at
Jamestown, Virginia, in May 1607 and when the Pilgrims landed on
Plymouth Rock in 1620 there floated from the mast of the Mayflower
also the red cross of St. George. Our Pacific coast had been visited
in the preceding century by Francis Drake, in his voyage around the
world. Into the New York Harbor sailed Hudson with the Dutch flag, a
tri-color, orange, white and blue. This banner, with the letters W. I.
C., floated over Manhattan Island, proclaiming the rights of the Dutch
West India Company. About the same time the Swedes floated their royal
banner in the sunlight on the banks of the Delaware. This colony from
the frozen north of Europe was so charmed with our country that to Cape
Horn they gave the name of Paradise Point, and called their little
settlement Christiana, after their far-away Queen.
During the period of our history known as Colonial and Provincial,
the English flag was used from Maine to Georgia, with various devices
and mottoes. Some flags were all red, with horizontal stripes, or red
and blue stripes. Others were red, blue, white or yellow. The flags
so frequently mentioned in the newspapers of 1774, were the ordinary
English ensigns, bearing the Union Jack. These almost always bore a
patriotic motto like "Liberty," "Liberty and Property," and "Liberty
and Union."
So I could go on and dwell on the different flags, but I must hurry to
our own, our native flag.
It is not generally known, and comes as a surprise to many, that the
stars and stripes is one of the oldest National flags in existence,
France being next; and England's present flag was not adopted until
1801.
The anniversary of the adoption of the Stars and Stripes by the
Continental Congress, June 14th, 1777, should be observed by every
American citizen.
In the year 1775, Congress appointed a Committee, of which Franklin was
chairman, to consider and devise a national flag. This resulted in the
adoption of the "King's colors," so called, as a union or corner stone,
while thirteen stripes of alternate red and white stood as at present.
This flag was publicly accepted, recognized and saluted at Washington's
headquarters in Cambridge, Mass., January 2, 1776, from which fact it
was often called the "Cambridge Flag," though sometimes the "Flag of
the Union."
After the Declaration of Independence this flag lost its point, as
nobody except the Tories wanted to see "King's colors." So in the
Spring of 1777, Congress appointed another committee to design another
suitable flag. George Washington and Robert Morris were members of the
committee. So Washington and Robert Morris called upon Mrs. Elizabeth
Ross, 239 Arch Street, Philadelphia, and from a pencil drawing of
General Washington's, Mrs. Ross made the first flag. She suggested six
pointed stars instead of five as Washington suggested and sketched. He
accepted her suggestion, and so the flag was made.
Most interesting is the fact that the making of the American flag is
largely woman's work. That the manufacture of flags has grown to be
a large industry is proven by the fact that every year enough flags,
great and small, are made to give one to every man, woman and child in
the United States. Betsy Ross made flags for the government for many
years; after her death, in 1836, her daughter, Mrs. Clarissa Wilson,
succeeded to the business. Miss Sarah Wilson, great granddaughter of
Betsy Ross, still makes duplicates of the original flag.
The great battle ships that are steaming around the world, flying
our flag under circumstances that have made the nation assume a new
importance in the eyes of millions who never before knew much about us,
have the proper flag. It would never do for the American Government
to fly an incorrect American Flag. It is a huge task to replace
all the banners used. These are the facts, that keep busy hands at
work, guiding the electrically driven sewing machines that take 3600
stitches a minute. Even though the machine that cuts the stars for the
silk and wool bunting flags can create three thousand an hour, its
operators have plenty to do. The stripes are cut from great rolls of
colored bunting or silk, sometimes by skilled operatives, and again
by machinery. The unions are cut in the same way. The stars are first
pinned on the unions, and then sewed by machinery. That is, so far as
the bunting flags are concerned. The silk flags are wholly hand work,
even to the cutting out of the stars. The latter are embroidered on the
blue field and then all the extra cloth is deftly scissored away.
The major number of small flags is printed. This is accomplished by
the aid of the engraver and presses something like those on which
newspapers are printed. Even in this mechanical work, women are found
to be more serviceable than men. It always has been their field,
and seems likely to so remain. There has been almost as much of an
evolutionary process in the manufacture, as in the arrangement of the
American flag.
On the same day that Congress adopted the stars and stripes, John Paul
Jones received command of the Ranger, in Portsmouth. He immediately
displayed the new flag at the main top, probably being the first person
to hoist these colors over a United States warship. Jones is said to
have remarked, pointing to the flag, "That flag and I are twins; we
cannot part in life or in death. So long as we will float, we will
float together; if we must sink, we shall go down as one."
The first recognition of our flag was by the flag of France. The first
display over military forces took place on August 2, 1777, at Fort
Stanwix, afterward Schuyler, New York. The fort was besieged by the
British; its garrison had no colors, so they manufactured a standard
of the approved pattern. They cut up their shirts as white material;
for stars and stripes, an officer's coat supplied the blue; and small
sections of red flannel undergarments furnished the third color. It
is said that the flag thus pieced together was greeted with great
enthusiasm and warmly defended.
The following September the stars and stripes were first displayed in
battle at Brandywine. They first waved over a captured port at Nassau
in the succeeding January. It was first borne around the world by Capt.
John Kendrick, of the Ship Columbia, sailing from Boston in 1787. It
had first been displayed in China, three years before, by Captain John
Green, of the Empress. When the first ship appeared flying the Stars
and Stripes, the new flag excited much interest and curiosity among
the people of Canton. A strange new ship had arrived in port, they
said, bearing a flag as beautiful as a flower, and everybody wanted
to see the flower-flag ship. By this name of Flower-Flag the Chinese
continued for many years to speak of our ensign, and its poetic beauty
has often appealed to our own people. The sobriquet which appeals most
strongly to the nation as a whole seems to be that of "Old Glory."
Captain Stephen Driver was the first man to christen our flag "Old
Glory." He was born at Salem, Mass., March 17, 1803. Just before he
sailed on the brig Charles Doggett, in the year 1831, he was presented
with a large American flag. As it was hoisted he called it "Old Glory"
and this was the name he evermore used for it. This flag was always
with the Captain on the sea and when he retired, he carried it home
with him to Nashville, Tenn. His fondness for his flag was widely
known, as also his being a Union man. During the late unpleasantness
his neighbors desired to get hold of this particular flag but they
searched his house and all in vain. The Captain had made a comforter
out of it, having quilted the Old Glory with his own hands. He made his
comforter his bed fellow. When peace was restored, he took the flag to
the Capitol Building in Nashville. As he saw it on top of the building
he exclaimed, "Now that Old Glory is up there, gentlemen, I am ready to
die." He died in Nashville in 1886.
The original flag made by Betsy Ross remained unchanged until 1795.
At this time, two new states had been added to the Union, Vermont and
Kentucky, and it became evident some recognition of these States should
appear upon the flag. Accordingly the number of stars was changed from
thirteen to fifteen, though much opposition was shown to this change.
For twenty-three years the flag of thirteen stripes was the national
standard. Under this banner, the United States fought and won three
wars to maintain her existence. They were the wars with France in 1799,
with the Barbary States in 1801, and with England in 1812. This was the
"Star Spangled Banner" in honor of which Francis Scott Key composed our
national song. A large national flag is kept floating over the grave
of Francis Scott Key and is never taken down except to be replaced by
a new one. This was the flag under which the good ship Constitution
sailed.
In the year 1818, the number of States had increased to twenty, and
five were in no way represented in the flag. Congress finally decided
to have thirteen stripes, and a provision that for every State added to
the Union a new star should appear in the galaxy upon the blue field,
and that this star should appear upon the Fourth of July next following
the admission of the new State. By this happy arrangement, the flag
typifies at once the country as it was when first it became independent
and as it is today. There is no law as to the method of arrangement for
the stars, but the Army and Navy regulated this to suit themselves.
We think of ourselves as a new country, yet oddly enough our flag is
one of the oldest in the world today. That of Denmark is the oldest
European standard, dating back to 1219. Next is the Swiss flag, which
was adopted in the seventeenth century.
In 1911, to the Army of the United States there were furnished 1207
storm and recruiting flags, 342 post flags, 31 garrison flags; the year
previous, 1076 storm and 355 post flags. These sewed together would
nearly, if not entirely, reach around the United States. Each battle
ship of the American Navy is entitled to 250 flags every three years,
though many are renewed oftener than this. The cost of the flags for
each battle ship is about twenty-five hundred dollars, nothing small in
this bill of Uncle Sam's for equipment, especially when you remember he
has twenty-seven first and second class battleships in commission, to
say nothing of the cruisers, torpedo boats, torpedo boat destroyers,
submarine monitors, gun boats, supply ships, training and receiving
ships, about seventy in all.
For the naval flags the United States uses up about forty-three
thousand dollars worth of material every year; pays seventeen thousand
dollars for wages, and produces an average of about sixty thousand
flags of four hundred and eight different patterns. The material of
which the flag is made must stand severe tests, for there are storms to
be weathered and a sixty mile gale can whip average cloth to tatters.
A strip of bunting two inches wide must have a strength of sixty-five
pounds when proved on the testing machine. Two inches of filling must
stand forty-five pounds. The bunting is American made and all wool and
nineteen inches wide. It is washed for twenty-four hours in soap and
fresh water and next day given a like treatment with salt water. Then
for ten days it is exposed to the weather, thirty hours of sunshine
being stipulated. The largest United States flag, 36 x 19, costs the
government only forty dollars.
There is a statute law which prohibits the use of our flag for
advertising purposes or decorating.
Where better can you realize the beauty of the American flag, and
that which it represents, than when you see it flying over school
houses or play grounds? The respect paid by the school children to
the flag by rising and standing and with right hand raised to a line
with their forehead while they pledge allegiance to their flag is most
appropriate, but the pledge that appeals to me most is that for the
children of the primary schools, which is, "I give my head and my heart
to God and my country, one language and one flag."
When you see the hands of ten, nay, twenty, nationalities raised, while
foreign tones mingle with those of our children expressing allegiance
to one flag, where better can you realize the beauty of "Old Glory?"
And though your word, your flag, your tiny nosegay may fall into the
hands of just a
"Little dirty fellow, in a dirty part of town,
Where the windy panes are sooty and the roofs are tumble down;
Where the snow falls back in winter, and the melting, sultry heat,
Comes like pestilence in the summer through the narrow dirty street,"
you are giving into his hands the flag you would have him love, and in
later years honor and defend.
The Sons of the Revolution print these regulations:
"The flag should not be hoisted before sunrise, nor allowed to
remain up after sunset.
"At sunset spectators should stand at attention and uncover during
the playing of 'Star Spangled Banner.' Military men are required to
do so by regulation.
"When the national colors are passing on parade, or in review, the
spectator should, if walking, halt; if sitting, arise and stand at
attention, and uncover.
"In placing the flag at half staff, it should first be hoisted to
the top of the staff and then lowered to position, and preliminary
to lowering from half staff it should be first raised to the top."
There is one general rule for the care of the flag which should always
be remembered. "Treat the flag of your country with respect--this is
the fundamental idea. Whatever is disrespectful is forbidden in dealing
with symbols of national existence. Do not let it be torn; if it should
become snagged or torn accidentally, mend it at once. Do not let the
flag be used in any way dishonorable."
I once heard of a flag used to cover the floor of a stage when an
officer of the navy present took up the flag, saying: "I will never
allow anyone to stand on the flag while I am present."
The national flag is raised on school buildings on all national
or state holidays and on anniversaries of memorable events in our
country's history. Most all schools now know the Star Spangled Banner
and when it is brought forward every pupil rises and gives a military
salute and distinctly repeats: "I pledge allegiance to my flag and to
the Republic for which it stands, one nation, indivisible, with liberty
and justice to all."
The eye of the home-comer catches sight of the large American flag
which floats from a steel pole 300 feet high at Mt. Claire, New Jersey,
before even he sees the Statue of Liberty.
Here's our love to you, flag of the free and flag of the tried and
true;
Here's our love to your streaming stripes and your stars in a field
of blue;
Native or foreign, we're children all of the land over which you fly,
And native or foreign, we love the land for which it were sweet to
die.
On June 14, 1777, in old Independence Hall, Philadelphia, Congress
adopted the following resolution:
Resolved, That the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen
stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars,
white in a blue field, representing a new constellation, the stars
to be arranged in a circle.
It was thirty-seven years before the Song to Immortality, the name of
our Star Spangled Banner, was written.
END OF THE REVOLUTION.
BY REV. THOMAS B. GREGORY.
The last battle of the Revolutionary war was fought at Blue Lick,
Kentucky, August 20, 1782.
England died hard, and in ways that were far from being in strict
keeping with international law tried to postpone the final surrender
as long as she could. It was in consequence of such tactics that the
battle of Blue Lick was fought.
On the 16th of August, 1782, a force of several hundred Canadians and
Wyandotte Indians laid siege to Bryan's Station, some five miles from
the present city of Lexington, the capital of the famous Blue Grass
region.
The next day a party of 180 frontiersmen, commanded by Daniel Boone,
John Todd and Stephen Trigg, hastened to the rescue, notwithstanding
the fact that they were greatly outnumbered by the enemy.
Upon reaching the near neighborhood of the station a council of war was
held to determine upon the line of attack. Boone's advice was to march
silently up the river and fall upon the rear of the enemy, while, at
the same time, the main attack should be delivered in front.
Unfortunately, this sensible advice was spoiled by the rash action of
a major named McGray, who dashed his horse into the river, shouting:
"Let all who are not cowards follow me." Of course, McGray's action
was madness, but it was a madness that became instantly contagious, and
soon most of the men were fording the stream hard after the rash major.
Crossing without molestation they reached the top of the ridge, when
their troubles began in dead earnest. From front and flanks they
received a deadly fire from the Indians and their Canadian allies. They
had been ambushed, and the invisible foe shot them down like dogs.
Outnumbered three to one, and presently quite surrounded, they fought
like the brave men they were until they realized that to remain longer
was to be annihilated, whereupon they broke through the fiery cordon
and escaped as best they could.
Sixty-seven Kentuckians were killed outright and many of the wounded
were afterward massacred. The loss of the Canadians and Wyandottes was
never known, as they carried away their killed and wounded.
But the redmen made no more trouble for Kentucky. The treaty of peace
deprived them of their British backing, and the United States was left
to deal with them after its own way. The memory of the brave fight that
was put up by the handful of frontiersmen lingered with them, and, with
no hope of help from England, they gave the Kentuckians a grand letting
alone.
Such, in brief, is the story of the last battle of the war of the
Revolution. Beginning away up in Massachusetts, the great struggle
ended at Blue Lick, Kentucky, a region that was an unknown wilderness
when the struggle began.
Indian Legends
COUNTIES OF GEORGIA BEARING INDIAN NAMES.
Seven of the counties in Georgia have been named to perpetuate the
memory of the first American, the Indian. Of peculiar interest is the
derivation and meaning of the names of these counties.
_Catoosa_: Gatusi in Cherokee language and means "mountain."
_Chattahoochee_: (Creek: _Chatu_ "rock" _hutchas_ "mark," "design":
"pictured rocks"). A former Lower Creek town on the upper waters of
Chattahoochee River to which it gave its name; seemingly in the present
Harris County, Georgia. So called from some pictured rocks at that
point.
_Chatooga_: (Also Chatuga, a corruption of the Cherokee Tsatugi,
possibly meaning "he drank by sips," or "he has crossed the stream and
come out on the other side," but more likely of foreign origin).
_Cherokee_: The tribal name is a corruption of _Tsalagi_ or _Tsaragi_,
the name by which they commonly called themselves, and which may be
derived from the Choctaw _Chilukki_, "cave people," in allusion to the
numerous caves in their mountain country.
_Coweta_: (Kawita). The name of the leading tribe among the Lower
Creeks, whose home was at one time on the Ocmulgee, and later on the
western side of Chattahoochee below the falls. According to one old
Creek tradition the name means "those who follow us," and was given
them by the Kasihta Indians, another Creek tribe who traditionally
marched in advance when the Creeks invaded Alabama and Georgia.
_Muscogee_: (_Muscogee_, properly _Maskoki_) meaning unknown. Its
derivation has been attributed to an Algonquian term signifying
"swamp" or "open marshy land." Muscogee is the name by which the
dominant tribe of the Creek confedracy knows itself and is known to
other tribes.
_Oconee_: Was the name of a tribe which anciently lived on Oconee
River, but subsequently moved first to the east bank of the
Chattahoochee and later to Florida where it found a nucleus of the
people later known as Seminoles. Oconee, their chief town, was
situated, according to Hawkins, about four miles below Milledgeville.
Weekachumpa, their chief, known to the English as Long King, and one
of his warriors were among the Indians assembled to welcome Oglethorpe
when he arrived in Georgia in 1732.--Compiled by MRS. J. S. LOWREY.
STORY OF EARLY INDIAN DAYS.
A pretty story of early times in America is that of the restoration of
a little girl to her parents by the Indians. It is quoted from Currey's
"Story of Old Fort Dearborn," by the New York Post. The child, who was
nine years old at the time of her capture in western Pennsylvania, was
well treated, came to regard the chief and his mother with love and
reverence, learned their language and customs, and almost forgot her
own. At the end of four years, this chief was invited by a colonel who
was very popular with the red men to bring the girl to a council fire
at Ft. Niagara. He accepted the invitation upon condition that there
should be no effort to reclaim the child. When the boat in which the
chief and his captive had crossed the Niagara River touched the bank,
the girl sprang into the arms of her waiting mother. The chief was
deeply moved. "She shall go," he said. "The mother must have her child
again. I will go back alone." In the words of her daughter-in-law, who
wrote of this period many years afterward:
"With one silent gesture of farewell he turned and stepped on board the
boat. No arguments or entreaties could induce him to remain at the
council; but having gained the other side of the Niagara, he mounted
his horse, and with his young men was soon lost in the depths of the
sheltered forests."
The girl became the wife of John Kinzie, "Chicago's pioneer."
[Illustration: Chief Vann House, Built by David Vann, a Cherokee Chief,
prior to 1802.]
CHIEF VANN HOUSE.
At the foot of one of the highest peaks of Cohuttah Mountains in North
Georgia, there stood, one late autumn day, an Indian girl, the daughter
of a Cherokee Chief, and her half-breed lover.
As they talked she told him how the young men of her tribe hated him
and how they taunted her about her pale faced lover, and told her he
would be cruel and false to her. The old chiefs had told her of the
great white chief, DeSoto, who had built the fort on this very mountain
where they stood, when he rested in his journey from the Indian
village, Chiaha (the place where the city of Rome, Ga., now stands).
They told her how cruelly his followers had treated her people, tearing
down their wigwams, desecrating their graves, in their search for
Tau-lan-neca (yellow money) and they warned her that he belonged to
that same cruel race.
He answered her, his heart swelling with love for his father's people,
that they were not false and cruel but kind and good. He told her of
his recent trip to Washington where he had gone as interpreter for
their great Chief, Ridge, who loved the white people. He said they had
seen the great white father and he had talked kindly to them and had
advised them to sell their lands to the white people who would pay them
well for it and would give them lands just as beautiful in the far
west, which would be theirs as long as "grass grew and water ran."
He told her that if her people should be guided by Chief Ridge, and go
to this far away land, he, too, would go with them and try to make her
happy among her own people. If they did not go he would stay among them
and build her a house like the white people lived in, a house good and
strong that would last as long as their love, which would be forever.
(It seems a prophecy for it is still standing).
He kept his promise to her and the house he dreamed of was built. What
a marvelous thing it was to those savage people to watch the building
of this house, with its carved mantels that reach to the ceiling,
and the wonderful spiral stairway that excites the admiration of the
skilled workmen of today and the hinges of the doors of beaten brass.
This palefaced lover little dreamed of what the future held in store,
that he (David Vann) should become a chief of his Nation and go again
to Washington with Chief Ridge and bring back to their tribe the
purchase money for their lands, how dissensions had arisen among them
in regard to the division of the money, how he buried the money near
his home and how the wife that loved him begged him not to tell her
where he buried it for fear the Indians would come and torture her and
make her tell where it was buried.
Little did he dream that he and Chief Ridge would be basely murdered by
the Indians.
This house has never been known by any other name but the Chief Vann
house. It is impossible to find out the exact time it was built, as
there were no white people living here at that time. White, in his
Georgia Statistics, says that when the Moravian Mission was started in
Spring Place that Chief Vann gave them the land for their buildings
near his house and sent his children to their school. That was in 1802,
so the house had been built before that date.
Judge George Glenn in a published article has told of Chief Vann's
later life, his marriage to an Indian princess, his visits to
Washington, his receiving and burying the gold, and his murder by the
Indians, all of which is authentic.
The material for the house was said to have been carried on the backs
of Indian ponies from Savannah, Ga., but other accounts say that Chief
Vann taught the Indians to make and burn the brick there.
Thus ends the romance, mingled truth, and tradition, but the house in
fairly good repair is still standing in Spring Place, Ga., today. This
little town was the only place of any size at that time. In the jail
at this place John Howard Payne was imprisoned, accused of being a
spy. The jail is still standing.--MRS. WARREN DAVIS, Historian, John
Milledge Chapter, D. A. R., Dalton, Ga.
INDIAN TALE.
"Grandfather, tell me about the Indians," said little Annie Daniel,
as she climbed upon the arm of a large rocking chair in which
Mr. Abel Daniel was sitting, dreaming of the past with its many
varied experiences. The person thus addressed had even now reached
his fourscore years and ten, yet his mind was keenly alert, his
carriage erect and his immaculate dress revealed the "Gentlemen of
the old school." Washington County, Georgia, was proud to claim so
distinguished a son, so valiant a hero and such a cultured gentleman.
Capt. Daniel had survived three noted wars; the "War of 1812," the
Indian and the Mexican, in all of which he had been a true soldier and
had won honor for his home and native state. His gallant service in the
wars with the British and the Mexicans interested the grown people.
How he helped General Gaines and his men capture the little village in
Clay County on the banks of the Chattahoochee, which is now called Fort
Gaines and drive the Indians back into Florida, always delighted the
young boys and his lullabies sung in the Indian language pleased little
Annie, but tonight she begged for a real Indian story.
"Well, dear, I shall tell you of one which relates to my own life and
is really a great part of it," said grandfather. "After helping to
expel the Indians from our borders, I decided to go live with them for
a time in order to learn their crafts and become better acquainted with
a people whom I believed to be honest and loyal."
"Having crossed the border and tied my handkerchief to a leafy branch
and waived it aloft as a flag of truce, they quickly responded and gave
me a most cordial welcome. During the seven years of my stay with them,
I was known as the 'White Man' and treated as some superior being. The
best of all they possessed was at my command and they counted nothing
too dear that would add to my pleasure. I was made a sharer in all
their hunting and fishing sports, having been presented with one of
their very best ponies.
"All went well until one day I discovered that the Chief was plotting
a marriage between me and his beautiful daughter. As a marriage dowry
he would present us with several barrels of specie, thus showing in
what esteem he held me. I could never think of marrying this Indian
maiden so I at once began to plan my escape. The next day I rode my
pony as far as possible, taking my gun along as a pretense of hunting,
but returned the following day with my game. After letting my pony rest
a day I started out a second time to test her strength still further.
This time I stayed two days and two nights and decided my pony was
equal to any undertaking. After a second rest we started out the third
time and made a safe flight across the line to my own people.
"Before reaching the old homestead a neighbor had informed me of my
father's death and my mother's total blindness. The dear old soul
was seated on the porch as I rode up; near her was a water bucket
over which was hanging a long handled gourd. Just as her feeble hands
reached out for the gourd, I handed it to her, saying; 'Here it is,
mother.' She recognized my voice as that of her baby boy and fainted
away. From that day I never left my aged mother, but tried to make
amends for the sorrow my wanderings must have caused, by attending to
her every want and making her last days as comfortable, happy and free
from care as ever a loving child could.
"My Indian pony was treasured as a relic of the years spent with the
Indians and my fortunate escape from the hand of his daughter.
"But my little girl is getting sleepy, so kiss grandfather good night,
and he'll tell you more another time."--MRS. ANNIE (DANIEL) CLIFTON,
Stone Castle Chapter, D. A. R.
WILLIAM WHITE AND DANIEL BOONE.
In 1750, William White and Daniel Boone settled at what is now known as
Bull Bradley Springs in Tennessee. The Indian trail from the Hiwassee
town Northward, passed near this home.
One evening, two of the boys, aged ten and twelve, went out into the
forest to cut and prepare wood for the night. When darkness came on
and the boys did not return, a search was made and their axe was
found leaning against a small hickory tree which the boys must have
been cutting down when they stopped their work. Signs of Indians were
discovered. These were followed next morning and were found to lead
into the Indian trail. There seemed to have been a large party of the
Indians going Northward. The pursuers failed to overtake the Indians
and despite all their efforts were unable to rescue the boys.
Years afterward an officer in Wisconsin had published, for the benefit
of any relatives of the parties concerned, that two white men, past
middle age, had been found with one of the Northwest tribes. These men
had forgotten all knowledge of the English language. They remembered
that they had been captured by Indians while engaged in cutting wood
and that their captors had brought them many miles, but in what
direction they were uncertain.
This description, though meager, made all certain that these men were
no others than the lost sons of William White. They had become so
thoroughly "Indianized" that they refused to leave the tribe and come
back to their people.
On the day of the boys' capture, William White was getting out a rock
for a hearth. These rocks were cut from a single stone, and were called
"Hath-stones." When no trace of his boys could be found, Mr. White went
on with his hearth making, laying the "hath-stone" in its place, and on
it he carved the date of their capture. The stone is still to be seen
in a hearth in the home now located where White's house stood. The date
and names are plainly visible. Some of White's descendants still reside
in the historical home.--ROBERTA G. TURNER, Xavier Chapter, D. A. R.,
Rome, Ga.
A LEGEND OF LOVER'S LEAP, COLUMBUS, GEORGIA.
One mile above the city of Columbus, Georgia, the Chattahoochee's
turbid waters dash, fret and foam in angry surges over and among a
group of giant bowlders forming what was called by the Red Men of the
forest, "Tumbling Falls."
From the eastern bank of the river rises a rugged, perpendicular cliff
to a lofty height, which is covered almost to its verge by majestic
trees, vines and shrubs of a semi-tropical growth. This is crowned by
a colossal bowlder of dark granite, and from its summit is one of the
most magnificent and picturesque views of river scenery that nature has
produced.
This is "Lover's Leap," famous in song and story; where the "Young
Eagle" of the Cowetas clasped to his brave heart the bright "Morning
Star" of the Cussetas and leaped into the deep, restless waters below.
The Alabama hills, forming a long, undulating chain, and covered with
verdant beauty, arise across the river, which, below the precipice,
flows gently onward until it reaches the city limits, where the waters
again dash with insane fury over clustering bowlders and form the
Coweta Falls, which are there arrested and utilized by the palefaced
stranger to turn thousands of looms and spindles for his own use and
profit.
A short distance below the Leap is the "Silver Wampum," a lovely stream
of pellucid water, which rises beneath a clump of sweet-scented bays
and magnolias, and flows and quivers in sunlight and moonlight, like a
silver girdle, along its green and flowerdecked banks, until it reaches
a rocky bed, where it falls by a succession of cascades, which form an
exquisite fringe to the "Wampum" before dropping into the Chattahoochee.
There the beautiful "Morning Star" would often sit indulging in love
dreams, as she beaded the gay moccasins, bags and wampums, while the
"Young Eagle" followed the chase. There he would bring her the first
fruits and flowers of the season.
From some warmer climate unknown to his rivals he would often
procure boughs of the fragrant calycanthus, queenly magnolias and
sweet-smelling jasmines, and secretly adorn this sylvan retreat in
anticipation of her coming, long before the native buds began to expand
their beauty. Frequently she would be startled in her blissful reveries
by the rolled petal of a magnolia falling like a great snow-flake at
her feet.
This she recognized as a private dispatch from "The Young Eagle,"
Cohamoteker (blow gun) to apprise her of his approach and hastily
arising she would eagerly await his coming.
At a later date, when duty required her attentions at the wigwam, she
would frequently find rare products of the chase suspended without.
This was always prepared with unusual care, and relished by her father,
the chief, who was too old to indulge often in his favorite pastime,
and was somewhat dependent upon his braves for many luxuries of that
kind.
Consequently, he did not question the source from which they came, but
when particularly pleased with his repast he would say:
"Yaho Hadjo (Crazy Wolf) is good. In his wigwam will be found the
richest venison and rarest birds of the air. He is a worthy mate for
the Morning Star!"
When a child she had been betrothed to Young Eagle, the noble son
of the Coweta chief. Their love had grown with their growth and
strengthened with their strength, until it had reached an intensity
where death appeared preferable to a life apart.
A rivalry had suddenly sprung up between the two tribes, who had so
long smoked the calumet of peace together. The pledged word of the
veterans was broken, and a feud more deadly than that of the Montagues
and Capulets then existed between the brave Cowetas and Cussetas, who
were of equal prowess.
The aged chief of the latter could no longer follow the warpath with
the alacrity of his youth, but by the council fire all did reverence to
his eloquence, and were ready to rally at his battle-cry.
His lion-hearted sons, the pride of a war-like sire, had gone in the
vigor of their early manhood to the Spirit Land and the chieftain stood
alone, like a giant oak of the forest, stately and grand in age and
decay, with the once vigorous branches all leafless and dead save one,
which still flourished in pristine beauty.
His daughter, with her starry eyes and step as fleet and graceful as a
wild fawn, was the idol of his heart. In childhood he had called her
"Minechee" (smart, active.) As she grew in stature and beauty, twining
herself more closely around his heart, he called her "The Morning
Star," for she would arise with the birds, and often waken him from
slumber with songs and merry laughter while preparing for his comfort.
By the latter name she was known among the tribe.
"The Morning Star is up and shames the laggard to the chase! He should
have been over the hills and far away."
The young warriors likened her to some ideal being, who basked in the
smile of the Great Spirit, and worshiped her with truly loyal hearts.
If we could raise the curtain of time, and read the thoughts that
agitated the dusky bosoms of those fearless young braves, it would be
evident that the affection and attention lavished on their old chief
was partially due to their admiration for the bright and beautiful
Morning Star.
Among her many suitors was Yaho Hadjo, who had cunningly ingratiated
himself into her father's favor, and had long vainly sought the hand
and heart of the bright-eyed maiden. In his fierce wrath, he had
secretly vowed vengeance against a more successful rival. Under the
garb of friendship and loyalty to his chief, he had secured a firm
footing in his wigwam, and thus constituted himself a spy on the
actions of the unsuspecting daughter.
She had waited long and patiently, hoping that time would soften
the feud and remove every impediment to her union with the peerless
Young Eagle, while he had endeavored to conciliate his tribe by every
possible means that a brave warrior could to restore peace to the
nation.
Alas! jealousy, that hydra-headed monster, had completely enslaved
the heart of Yaho Hadjo, and at its bidding he continued to secretly
add fresh fuel to each expiring flame until it had reached enormous
proportions, and open hostilities seemed inevitable.
The lovers no longer dared to meet by day, but beside the Silver
Wampum, when the Great Spirit marshalled his starry hosts through the
blue vaulted sky, they met to renew vows of eternal love.
The stealthy footsteps of Yaho Hadjo had followed the Morning Star
to the trysting place, and his watchful eye had witnessed the tender
meeting with the Young Eagle.
The plans of the jealous rival were immediately formed with
characteristic craftiness. He then cautiously retraced his steps and
sought the presence of his chief.
Into his ear the wily creature whispered a malignant falsehood of
broken faith, treachery and a contemplated raid by the Cowetas upon the
Cussetas.
The old warrior's anger was instantly aroused. With all the venom of
his nature rankling in his savage heart, he arose to give the war-whoop
to his sleeping braves.
But Yaho Hadjo urged extreme caution, saying the Young Eagle was the
ruling spirit and instigator of the intended diabolical assault, and
was perhaps now prowling around like a hungry fox with a hope of
capturing the Morning Star. A better and surer plan would be to offer
privately a handsome reward for the person or scalp of the Young Eagle.
By that means the villainous savage thought to have his unsuspecting
rival cruelly assassinated and his body secretly disposed of without
arousing any suspicion of the dark deed among the Cowetas.
He doubted not the success of his cowardly undertaking; and then,
without opposition, he would secure the beautiful maiden for his squaw.
He dared not insinuate to the chief that his daughter would have been a
willing captive, for he had confidence in her integrity, and knew she
would never forsake him to link her fate with his enemy. She had made a
promise to this effect, and the Morning Star never dealt falsely.
At the conclusion of Yaho Hadjo's heartless suggestion, the old man
bowed his head in troubled thought for a brief period, and then rising
to his full stature, he said:
"Yes, yes; it is best! Go say to my young warriors that he who brings
the chief the person or scalp from the dead head of the daring Young
Eagle of the base Cowetas, shall wear on his brave heart the Morning
Star of the Cussetas."
Yaho Hadjo hastened to arouse a few sleeping braves from their couches
and they hurried forth rapidly but noiselessly to the Silver Wampum.
The unsuspecting lovers were totally oblivious of surrounding danger,
and loth to separate, they lingered for a last farewell and final
embrace, when stealthy footsteps were heard approaching.
They gave a startled glance around and beheld Yaho Hadjo and his
followers with uplifted tomahawks rushing madly upon them.
Minchee threw her arms wildly around her lover.
For a brief second the assailants halted, not daring to strike the
daughter of their chief.
The Young Eagle clasped her firmly to his bosom and bounded away with
the speed of an antelope, he knew not wither.
Onward, over rocks and dells he flew with his precious burden, her arms
thrown protectingly around and above him. Upon the narrow defile to the
fearful precipice he bore her and then suddenly halted. He thought to
release her there, believing she could return safely to her father, but
she grappled to him as though her slight arms were hooks of steel.
The hot breath of the hated rival was felt upon his cheek, and his
tomahawk flashed like a meteor above him.
The Young Eagle gave the would-be assassin one proud, defiant glance,
and folding the Morning Star in a closer embrace, he leaped into the
foaming torrent below.
Yaho Hadjo's uplifted weapon fell forward with a sudden impetus which
forced him headlong down the lofty pinnacle, among the sharp, rugged
bowlders, where his body was afterwards found a mangled, lifeless
corpse.
The remaining warriors were transfixed with horror and dismay as they
gazed wildly into the furious river.
To attempt a rescue would have been folly and madness, as no breathing
creature could have survived the fall.
Slowly and sadly they then retraced their steps and silently entered
the presence of the childless patriarch.
Alarmed by the expression of their grief-stricken faces he exclaimed:
"Where is Yaho Hadjo? Why does the Morning Star linger in the forest?"
The boldest of them dropped his head and answered slowly and hoarsely:
"The Great Spirit has taken her from us to brighten his own beautiful
land. She will come no more to gladden our hearts. The Morning Star
will never beam on the hunter's pathway again!"
The chief listened in silence, but evidently did not comprehend. An
explanation was sternly demanded.
At length the sad story was told with all of its tender and
heart-rending details.
He realized at last his total bereavement, and acknowledged it was the
result of Yaho Hadjo's jealousy and falsehood. Fierce and vindictive
was the malediction pronounced upon the cowardly murderer.
A dead calm followed; then rising and clasping his hands high above his
head, he stood for a moment like a splendid bronze statue of despair,
and in singularly pathetic tones exclaimed:
"Minechee! Minechee! Bright Morning Star! Sole treasure of my aged
heart! Gone, gone, forever, and I am desolate!"
He gave one long, low, piercing wail and tottering as a tree beneath
the final stroke of the woodman's axe, he fell prostrate to the earth.
His companions exerted themselves in behalf of the stricken chieftain
and partially succeeded in restoring him to consciousness, but he
refused to be comforted and declined all nourishment.
After a prolonged interval of silence, he arose, quitted their presence
and slowly descended the hill to a ravine in the bluffs and seated
himself.
He signified a desire to be alone. He wished to humble himself before
the Great Spirit, that he might take pity on him. Finding he could not
be persuaded to leave the place, his braves stretched a mat above his
bowed head and placing food and water within reach they left him alone
in his sorrow.
A few days after they found him occupying the same position, but cold
and lifeless.--MRS. MARY COOK.
INDIAN MOUND, EARLY COUNTY, GEORGIA.
On the outskirts of Blakely, County Seat of Early County, and
commanding a view of a beautiful stretch of landscape, rises the famous
old Indian Mound, supposed to have been made by the Creek Indians,
who hunted and fished and roved so happily through the tall pines and
magnolias, the great oaks and low marshes. While tradition associates
this particular mound with the Creeks and Cherokees, it has been argued
by scientists that it must have been built by a race of people who
preceded the Indians and were partly civilized; however, that may be,
the visitor to Early has missed a rare bit of romance and historic
thought, who fails to see the Indian Mound, reminiscent as it is of the
sacredness of a brave race, now almost extinct.
The Mound is fully seventy-five feet high and is almost five hundred
feet in circumference. It is covered with large trees of oak and the
same dense foliage of bamboo, pine and cedar as that which grows so
profusely over the surrounding country as far as the eye can reach. The
picturesque and fertile valleys below have now become a favorite place
for pleasure seekers each spring, for picnic grounds and camping, and
the Indian Mound cannot fail to impress the most heedless as it rises
mysteriously and majestic. Parties in search of buried treasures have
penetrated the Mound to a depth of fifty feet, but nothing has ever
been found except human bones. Then later scientists have sunk a shaft
in the very center of this Mound to a great depth and have reached a
mass of bones five feet in thickness. Nothing to throw light upon the
builders of this huge old relic has ever been unearthed but bones, and
the people of the County, with interested visitors, have nearly all
associated the site with the Indians who inhabited so thickly this part
of Georgia before Early County was created.
Early County was created by Legislature, October 1818, and included
then the Counties of Baker, Calhoun, Decatur, Miller, Mitchell
and Dougherty. It was named in honor of George Peter Early, Chief
Executive of Georgia in 1813. Governor Early, previous to the purchase
of these lands from the Indians, had rendered great service to the
white settlers here in protecting them from the Indians, in both
their treaties with the Indians and in protection to their lives. In
gratitude for this service Early County was named.
While it has never been positively decided whether the Mound Builders
or the Indians are the original makers of Indian Mound, it stands a
grim memorial of a dead and gone race, worthy of a visit, with its
great trees yellow with age, and weeds and moss overgrown, the only
epitaphs to the mystery within its depths.--MRS. WALTER THOMAS, Regent,
Governor Peter Early Chapter, D. A. R.
STORIETTE OF STATES DERIVED FROM INDIAN NAMES.
So many States are derived from Indian names, so I write this
storiette, using all that have Indian origin.
Illinois--Tribe of Red Men.
Alabama--Here we rest.
Arizona--Small Springs.
Arkansas--Bend in the Smoky Water.
Connecticut--Long River.
Idaho--Gun of the Mountain.
Indiana--Indian's Land.
Iowa--Beautiful Land.
Kansas--Smoky Water.
Kentucky--At the head of the river.
Massachusetts--Place of Blue Hills.
Michigan--Fish Wier.
Mississippi--Great Father of Water.
Missouri--Muddy (River).
Nebraska--Water Valley.
North and South Dakota, allies:
Ohio--Beautiful River.
Oklahoma--Home of the Red Men.
Tennessee--River with a Great Bend.
Texas--Friends.
Utah--Ute.
Wisconsin--Gathering of the waters.
Wyoming--Great Plains.
Once upon a time a tribe of Red Men (Illinois) set out to find a Plan
of the Blue Hills (Massachusetts.) Their canoes were safely launched in
the Long River (Connecticut). At the Bend in the Smoky Water (Arkansas)
they were surprised to see a canoe coming their way and that it was
guided by a maid Minnehaha, the beautiful daughter of Uakomis of the
Ute (Utah) Tribe of Indians. "Young maid" said the gallant Chief
Hiawatha, "Is this where the Indians Land?" (Indiana). "Yes," replied
the maid, "This Water Valley (Nebraska) is the home of the Red Men"
(Oklahoma). Then spoke the Chief, who had at once been attracted to the
Maid: "This is indeed a Beautiful Land (Iowa) and I dare say you are
the Gem of the Mountain" (Idaho). The maid smiled and said: "I hope
we will be friends" (Texas.) "Let us row to the Head of the River"
(Kentucky). As they drifted near the bank they decided to tarry by the
Beautiful River (Ohio). "Here we rest" (Alabama), said Hiawatha and
whispered words of love. As they returned to the other members of their
tribe, who had pitched their tents on the mountain side by some Small
Springs (Arizona) each man looked up as the two approached and read the
happiness that was theirs, by their smiling faces. "We will return"
said Hiawatha, "to Nakomis and his Allies, of the Great Plains near the
River" (Missouri), "the Great Father of Waters (Mississippi), and there
on the Banks of the Sky-Tinted Water (Minnesota) we will pitch our
Wigwam near the Fish Wier (Michigan) and there watch the gathering of
the Waters (Wisconsin) and live in peace and happiness until we journey
to our Happy Hunting Ground."--MRS. WILL CHIDSEY, Rome, Ga., Xavier
Chapter, D. A. R.
SEQUOIA, INVENTOR OF THE CHEROKEE ALPHABET.
The invention of the Cherokee alphabet by Sequoia, or George Guess, in
1815, was the most remarkable achievement in the history of the Indian
tribes of America.
Sequoia was in appearance and habits, a full Cherokee, though he was
the grandson of a white man. He was born in Tennessee about 1765, and
he lived at one time near Chiaha, now Rome, Georgia, but for some
years before the Cherokees were moved to the West, he lived at Alpine,
in Chattooga County, on what was later known as the Samuel Force
plantation.
This American Cadmus was an illiterate Cherokee Indian. He could
neither write or speak English, and in his invention of the alphabet he
had to depend entirely on his own native resources.
He was led to think on the subject of writing the Cherokee language,
by a conversation which took place one evening at Santa. Some young
men were remarking on the superior talents of the white people. They
saw that the whites could "put a talk" on paper and send it to any
distance, and it would be understood by those who received it. This
seemed strange to the Indians, but Sequoia declared he could do it
himself; and picking up a flat stone, he scratched on it with a pin,
and after a few minutes read to his friends a sentence which he had
written, by making a mark for each word. This produced only a laugh
among his companions. But the inventive powers of Sequoia's mind were
now aroused to action, and nothing short of being able to write the
Cherokee language would satisfy him. In examining the language he
found that it is composed of the various combinations of about ninety
mono-sylables and for each of these sylables he formed a character.
Some of the characters were taken from an English spelling book, some
are English letters turned upside down, some are his own invention;
each character in the Cherokee alphabet stands for a monosylable.
From the structure of the Cherokee dialect, the syllabic alphabet is
also in the nature of a grammar, so that those who know the language by
ear, and master the alphabet, can at once read and write. Owing to the
extreme simplicity of this system, it can be acquired in a few days.
After more than two year's work his system was completed. Explaining
to his friends his new invention, he said, "we can now have speaking
papers as well as white men."
But he found great difficulty in persuading his people to learn it; nor
could he succeed, until he went to Arkansas and taught a few persons
there, one of whom wrote a letter to a friend in Chiaha and sent it
by Sequoia, who read it to the people. This excited much curiosity.
Here was "talk in the Cherokee language," come from Arkansas sealed
in a paper. This convinced many, and the newly discovered art was
seized with avidity by the people of the tribe, and, from the extreme
simplicity of the plan, the use of it soon became general. Any one, on
fixing in his memory the names and forms of the letters, immediately
possessed the art of reading and writing. This could be acquired in one
day.
The Cherokees, (who, as a people, had always been illiterate) were,
in the course of a few months, able to read and write in their own
language. They accomplished this without going to school.
The Cherokee Council adopted this alphabet in 1821, and in a short
time the bible and other books were printed in the language, and a
newspaper, _The Cherokee Phoenix_, devoted entirely to the interests of
the Indians, was published, in 1826, at New Echota, the capitol of the
Cherokee Nation, situated about five miles west of Calhoun, in Gordon
County, Georgia.
This paper was edited by Chief Elias Bondinot, one of the signers of
the New Echota Treaty.
Sequoia spent much of his time with his kindred who had already gone
to the West, and a few years after the final removal of the Cherokees
from Georgia, he was instrumental in establishing several newspapers in
their new home.
This Indian remains today the only man, in the long history of the
aborigines, who has done anything for the real and lasting benefit of
the race. His Cherokee alphabet is in general use by every Indian tribe
in America.
Scientists have honored him by naming the largest tree that grows in
California the Sequoia Gigantia. This name was given to the big red
wood tree by Dr. Eulicher, the famous Hungarian botanist, who was born
1804 and died 1849. The tree is native to California and is the largest
known, often measuring thirty to thirty-six feet in diameter, height
from two hundred to four hundred feet, bark is often fifteen inches
thick.
In 1908, a specimen of the Sequoia Gigantia came in a letter from
California. The tiny sprig was five inches high and one-eighth of an
inch in diameter, and was planted on Myrtle Hill cemetery in Rome,
Georgia. It is now (1913) about thirty inches high and one inch in
diameter.
The Sequoia Gigantia is an evergreen monument to the American Cadmus, a
one-time resident of Rome, Georgia.
In his honor, Oklahoma has named a County Sequoyah.--BEATRICE O'REAR
TREADAWAY, Xavier Chapter, D. A. R.
THE BOY AND HIS ARROW.
The Barbadoes or Windward Islands have long been the territory of Great
Britain and her colonies were planted there as early as on the main
land of America.
Early in the eighteenth century dissatisfaction arose concerning
taxes and other injustices, and some of these colonists removed to
the continent, chiefly to Virginia and the Carolinas. Among these was
Edmond Reid, with his family, landing at Norfolk, Virginia. He brought
with him quite a number of slaves. These slaves were remarkable in many
ways. They must have been part Carib; they had thin lips, straight
noses and arched feet. They were erect and alert. Some of these slaves
in the fourth generation came to my mother and were above the ordinary
African and were so dark they evidently had no Caucasian blood.
John Reid, son of Edmond Reid, married Elizabeth Steppe, and served in
the Revolution. James, the son of John and Elizabeth, was born during
the Revolution, February 21st, 1778. Archery was a great sport in those
days, handed down no doubt from our British ancestry and kept alive
by the bows and arrows of the Indians, some of whom were still among
the neighbors in the colonies. At twelve years of age James Reid was
shooting arrows, and as an experiment shot one up straight toward the
sky. Quickly it went up, but more quickly, with accelerated speed it
returned and pierced the eye of the little archer. Painfully the arrow
(in this case a pin point) was taken from the eye. Youth and a fine
constitution combined to heal the wound without disfigurement of the
eye, and so he seemed to have two perfect eyes, while one was sightless.
Our young Republic was just beginning to try her powers when England
provoked the war of 1812. James Reid, now in the prime of manhood,
enlisted when the British threatened New Orleans. As many others did,
he left his wife and two little ones at home under the protection of
slaves.
A few days after his return from the war, on a summer day, a pain
came to the eye pierced so long ago by the arrow. The local physician
was sent for, but his lotions and applications failed to give relief.
At that time no surgeon, except those perhaps in France, understood
surgery of the eye. So nature took her course, seemingly a cruel,
dreadful course. The suffering man could neither sleep nor eat and
finally could not stay in the house. He went out under the trees in
the grove and when unable to stand rolled around on the grass in great
agony. His wife and children and servants followed him with cold water
and pillows--a sorrowing and helpless procession. After several days
and nights the abscess in his eye bursted and gave instant relief. All
the fluids of the eye escaped leaving it sightless and shrunken, and so
it remained ever after. I never see a shrunken eye but what I recall
the old man, so spirited, so cheery, so kind, our own grandfather
who passed away many years ago--MRS. R. H. HARDAWAY, Regent, Sarah
Dickinson Chapter, D. A. R.
INDIAN SPRING, GEORGIA.
ROMANTIC DISCOVERY.
In 1792, when the country in this vicinity was clothed in its
swaddlings of nature, and the red man and wild beasts alone trod
the hills and valleys west of the Ocmulgee, a solitary huntsman was
wending his way north, south of the Towaliga, about where the public
road to Forsyth is now being turnpiked. The party was a model of his
class--large, muscular, completely equipped, a frame strong in its
every development, and a general contour which indicated that he knew
nothing of fear, and dreaded not the dangers of the wilderness in which
he was traveling. A deep melancholy on his face, the flashing of his
dark eyes, and an occasional sight, evidenced he carried an "iron in
his soul," and was actuated by a purpose that knew no turning. This was
Gabriel Dunlap--a Georgian. His object in thus absenting himself from
society will be seen hereafter.
Dunlap was a careful and wary hunter, and in this hitherto untrodden
field was specially on the alert. He knew that dangers lurked around,
and was cautious at every step. While thus walking and watching, he was
startled by the war whoop of the savages, which seemed to burst from
every ambush around him. He knew his retreat was cut off, for a hundred
savages emerged from the thickets lining the Towaliga. Therefore,
but one course was left to be pursued--that of taking a due north
direction. Leaving the river and crossing the hills, he ran without
any purpose beyond making his escape. And thus he ran for miles--as
the yells of his pursuers would subside, hope bracing him up, again
depressed by the reiteration of the voices of his enemies. At length,
when almost ready to fall from exhaustion and thirst--his vitals
scorched as with fire--hope whispered "a little farther." And soon,
overjoyed and exhausted, he was able to spring into a canebrake dark
as night, where he slept unconscious of anything that occurred around
him.
REINFORCEMENTS.
When he awoke, yet half dreaming, Dunlap gazed about him some time
before he could "realize the situation." With great effort he arose,
staggered forward, but fell against a larger stone, and here, to his
delight, he heard the trickling of water. Quickly he sought to slake
his burning thirst, and soon found, and enjoyed, what seemed ice water
in a canebrake in August. He drank until every desire for water was
satisfied, yet none of the unpleasant feelings that often follow such
indulgence were experienced. On the contrary, he felt new life and
vigor, and set out to place a greater distance between himself and his
enemies. His only safe course he knew, was to travel in a northerly
direction, and, after imbibing another copious draught from the welcome
fountain, he set out, toiling through the cane that covered the bottom.
When he was about reaching the northern edge of this dense retreat, a
well known signal greeted his ear. To this he responded. His response
was replied to by another signal, when he quickly emerged from the
brake, ascended the hill; and on approaching a large oak then standing
on the site of the present Elder Hotel, was greeted thus:
"Hallo, Gabe! whar did you cum from? Have you been squattin' in the
thicket yonder?"
"I'll be smashed," answered Dunlap, "If here aint Jube Cochran. And,
Jube, I'm gladder to see you than if I had knocked out a panther's eye
with old Betsey here, and without picking her flint, on a two hundred
yard line. Cause why--I'm lost and aint nowhar ef you aint some place."
And next the two friends met with a hearty shake of hands and a union
of warm hearts, such as conventionalities and civilization have long
since driven from the brightest spot in Georgia. The huntsmen refreshed
the inner man, recounted their several recent adventures, and then
sought a place of rest, which they soon found among the rocks skirting
the river.
Here they slept until midnight, when the report of a gun aroused them.
Snuffing danger in the breeze, they at once not only became watchful,
but sought to discover the whereabouts of their daring neighbor; and
finally, in the darkness, almost ran against two human forms, whether
paleface or Indian they could not make out, when Cochran hailed:
"Who's thar?"
"Watson," was the reply, and soon there was another happy greeting;
when all four of the party (one a small boy named Ben Fitzpatrick)
walked to the top of the hill between two creeks, and again rested
until day break, reciting the customary yarns of the border.
Douglas Watson was about eighteen years of age, six feet in height, and
boasted of possessing a well developed muscular frame. His companion,
Fitzpatrick, was an orphan boy, who had the temerity common to
adventurous youth to follow Watson in these wilds.
Seated by their camp fire Dunlap explained to Watson the invigorating
effect the water in the canebrake, at the foot of the hills, had had
upon him in his fainting condition the day previous, when the whole
party again sought the cooling spring, and, after search, found it.
This was Indian Spring, and this was the first party of whites who are
known to have drunk of its water. At this gathering Watson admitted to
his comrades that about a month previous he had found the spring, but
in consequence of its smelling like gunpowder he fled the vicinity.
Watson and Cochran were scouts, sent out by the Government in the
Spring of 1792. Fitzpatrick was the shadow of Watson; and Dunlap
divulged to his new friends his history and mission while they lingered
around the spring.
DUNLAP'S HISTORY.
To be brief: Twelve years previous, during an Indian raid in Bibb
County, a little friend--a ward of his father--was stolen and carried
away. Then and there, ere the triumphant yells of the foe were
silenced, he had registered an oath in Heaven, which was baptized by
the falling rain, never again to seek peace until he found it in the
rescue of "Bright Eyes"--his lost Nora. Since that hour his home had
been between the Towaliga and Ocmulgee, and his whole exertion was to
find the lost one and restore her to her friends.
A BATTLE AND RETREAT.
In the morning the party left the Spring, traveling down stream, but
in a few moments the shoals were reached. Here was another mystery,
which to Watson appeared more wonderful than did the gunpowder
spring. They had traveled down stream; of this they were certain; yet
they encountered an opposite current, and were amazed. Fitzpatrick,
however, soon explored the vicinity and discovered the meeting of the
waters near the Spring. Here two creeks, running in almost opposite
directions, met fraternally and formed the Big Sandy, which then flowed
in an easterly direction until it united with the Ocmulgee.
Crossing at the foot of the shoals, the party started down the stream,
hunting and traveling leisurely. Noon found them at a little spring
near the present site of Tanner's bridge, where they halted, kindled a
fire, and prepared to cook the choice bits of game they had secured.
Here they were again doomed to be disappointed; for suddenly their foe
burst upon them in overwhelming numbers. The odds were fearful, but
rather than surrender--which would have been death--the contest was
entered upon.
Many heroes whose names emblazon the pages of history never exhibited
the coolness and calculating courage of Ben Fitzpatrick in his first
battle. He stood fearlessly by the side of his companions, fighting
bravely until Cochran fell senseless, having been struck by the war
club of an Indian. As the Indian stooped to scalp his victim, Ben
plunged his hunting knife to his heart, and, when the brave uttered his
death yell, the boy attempted to remove his wounded comrade. At this
moment young Watson handed Ben his gun, gathered up Cochran, and crying
out "Now is our time, Ben," ran through the creek into the dark swamp
beyond.
They were now safe, for deep darkness had fallen, and their enemies
feared to pursue them. Cochran recovered during the night, but diligent
search failed to ascertain anything as to the fate of Dunlap; and,
warned by the signal smokes of the enemy, the trio started early next
morning for the nearest block-house east of the Ocmulgee.
DUNLAP AND NORA.
But Dunlap was not lost. He was shot through the left shoulder when
the attack was first made, fainted and fell, and was scalped and left
for dead. He lay hours, until nightfall--half waking, half sleeping
and dreaming. Suddenly he felt a soft hand bathing his fevered head.
He knew this kindness came not from savage hands, nor from the rough
goodness of a fellow huntsman, for the sweetness of an angel's breath
fanned his face. Pain was forgotten, yet he was afraid to move lest
the charm should be broken and the vision vanish. Half unconscious, he
whispered, as if by inspiration, "Nora." And the guardian angel hovered
about him proved to be the Nora for whom he had been searching. She
suppressed an involuntary scream as she recognized the object of her
compassion, and, laying her hand on the face of her old friend, in a
trembling voice said:
"Oh! my more than brother, have we met at last, after so many long and
weary years of separation, each of which has seemed an eternity?"
The recognition was mutual, but the meeting was too happy, too full of
sacred joy, to be intruded upon. The wounds of Dunlap were carefully
bound up by Nora, after the fashion of her companions from girlhood,
and they at once removed as far as possible from the vicinity of the
fight. They were not discovered the next morning and then commenced a
long and weary journey homeward, which extended through many days. At
last they saw the curling smoke arising from their native cabin. Here
the long lost were greeted with joy, and at an early day there was a
wedding--Dunlap and Nora were united, and at once settled down to the
realities of life.
In 1796, fearing other molestations from the savages, who were then
hostile to the whites, the Dunlap family sold their lands in Bibb and
removed to Liberty County, Georgia, where, at the present time, many of
their children's children may be found occupying high social positions.
FATE OF OUR HEROES.
The boy, Ben Fitzpatrick, grew up to manhood in company with his
friend, Watson. Subsequently he removed to Montgomery, Ala., where he
died a short time since. His career in his adopted State was an honored
one, he having served in both branches of the National Congress and
as Governor of the State. Governor Fitzpatrick was a cousin of Mrs.
Cynthia Varner, of Indian Spring. After the Indians were removed from
this section, Douglas Watson settled in Monroe County, where he resided
until his decease, which occurred a few years ago. Of the career of
Cochran we have been unable to obtain any data.
The foregoing history of the discovery of Indian Spring by the whites
is not all fiction. It is an "o'er true tale." "Duggie" Watson, the
hero of the foregoing pages--he who feared the smell of gunpowder
when he first looked upon the halfhidden spring, and fled--has often
repeated the history as we have given it in our hearing.
EARLY SETTLEMENT.
The Indians entertained a superstition that it would be unwise for
any of their tribe to make a permanent residence near this "Healing
water" because the noise and gambols of the squaws and papooses would
drive the spell from the water. Thus, as late as 1800, the visits of
the race to the Spring, though frequently made, were only temporary,
and for a special purpose in each instance. The tents of the red man
were always found on the adjacent hills, filled with invalids who
were brought to be cured, and again returned to the war path or their
hunting grounds. About the date named, Gen. Wm. McIntosh, a half
breed, and a cousin of Gov. Troup, erected a cabin for his own use,
and afterwards spent the summers here with his family. This broke the
spell; and subsequently a Mr. Ollison erected a double-cabin, which was
dignified with the title of hotel and for years was the only house of
accomodation afforded visitors. The same gentleman afterwards erected
a small corn mill, which stood near or on the site of the new mill now
being completed by Col. H. J. Lamar. These were the only improvements
made until after the treaty of 1821, and are remembered by a number of
our old citizens. The McIntosh cabin and the mill, were destroyed by
fire; what became of the hotel which stood upon the site of the north
end of the Varner House, we cannot state.
The "spell" was broken, and both races pitched their tents around the
Spring annually for a number of years, mingling without open hostility.
Watson and Fitzpatrick continued to act as scouts for the Government,
making the McIntosh cabin headquarters. Among the visitors were Messrs.
Dred and Jonathan Phillips, of Jasper county, who brought a friend that
had been afflicted with rheumatism, and unable to walk for years. A
short stay served to restore the afflicted to his original health, when
the party returned to their homes. While here the Phillips brothers
observed the excellent condition of the Indian stock, which was
attributed to the superabundance of cane then covering the extensive
bottoms, and, as a speculation, brought over a large drove of cattle
to pasture, which was left in the canebrake, but occasionally visited
to be salted and inspected. Subsequently this movement was interfered
with, as we shall show.
FIRST OUTBREAK.
The rival factions of the Creeks were severally headed by McIntosh and
Napothlehatchie--the latter termed Big Warrior. Another leader with the
Big Warrior clan was Hopoethleyoholo, who was said to have been the
most brilliant orator of the tribe. Through his influence the largest
number of the tribe joined Big Warrior, and he subsequently took an
active part in opposing the treaties of 1821 and 1825, concluded at
Indian Spring. Notwithstanding the factions were bitterly opposed to
each other, we have no record of any outbreak occurring until 1807.
The Phillips brothers were also left undisturbed in their pursuit. The
first disturbance occurred in June, 1807, when Big Warrior, with a
party of his braves, entered the stables of McIntosh at night and stole
all his horses. The same party also carried off the Phillips cattle.
When advised of their loss, the Phillips brothers gathered their
neighbors, and, on being joined by Watson and Fitzpatrick, pursued and
overtook the plunderers about seventy miles lower down the Ocmulgee.
After a desperate conflict the stock was recovered and Hopoethleyoholo
made prisoner. This brave refused to smoke the pipe of peace with his
captors, and actually spat in the face of the leader of the whites, who
tendered the symbol of peace. This act aroused the ire of the whites,
who were with difficulty persuaded by Watson to spare his life. The
discussion among the whites was suddenly disturbed by Big Warrior, who
rushed in with his followers, who had been reinforced, and recaptured
the favorite orator. During this second brief struggle Dred Phillips
was shot through the fleshy part of the left arm. The cattle were then
driven back to the canebrakes of the Big Sandy, and again apparent
quiet was the rule.
But the fires of hatred were only smothered in the breast of
Big Warrior. Watson and his companions were conversant with the
machinations of the unfriendly chief, and anticipated an outbreak
against both the whites and McIntosh party, but no opportunity
occurred, and all remained quiet until the war of 1812 was inaugurated.
In this war the McIntosh party--which had been gradually gaining
strength--joined with the forces of the State and Government, and
Big Warrior united with the public enemy. The struggle in Georgia
during the war was bitter, and involved the loss of many whites as
well as friendly Indians, and a heavy expense to the State. Upon the
declaration of peace between Great Britain and the United States, peace
again reigned in Georgia.
At the close of the war the whites again began to resort to the Spring,
and the sick were gathered from all quarters. The fame of the waters
spread, and the wonderful cures effected appeared more like the result
of magic than the effects of one of nature's great restorers. In 1816,
Mrs. C. H. Varner, who yet lives in our midst, spent some time here;
and the scenes of primitive beauty and interest she then looked upon,
and also the incidents that occurred, are distinctly remembered by the
venerable lady, as if it were but yesterday. Gen. John W. Gordon first
visited the Spring in 1819, and continued to spend a large portion of
his time here every year until his death. During the sojourns of this
gentleman at Indian Spring, he contributed largely to the improvements
that were made; and especially was his generosity, through a long
series of years, exhibited for the benefit of the needy and afflicted.
At his decease he left numbers at Indian Springs who will ever bless
his memory for the fruits of the seeds of kindness he was constantly in
the habit of sowing.
Among the early visitors was the veritable "Simon Suggs," who
subsequently became distinguished as a wit and humorist. Douglass
Walton, in his capacity of Government scout, continued to make his
headquarters here. In 1819, Mr. Jesse Jolley, Mr. John Lemon, and Mrs.
Freeman, with her husband and family located in Butts. The three first
named are still living, and are among the most honored citizens of the
county.
PUBLIC TREATIES.
Prior to 1721, efforts were made by the Government to secure possession
of the lands in Georgia lying west of the Ocmulgee. The McIntosh party
favored such a treaty, while Big Warrior and his adherents opposed it.
After many consultations between the two parties, favorable conclusions
were arrived at, and the pipe of peace was passed. Big Warrior alone
broke the faith thus cemented around the council-fires of his tribe;
McIntosh was again faithful, and in 1821, he concluded a treaty with
the agents of the government, by which the hunting grounds between the
Ocmulgee and Flint Rivers were forever ceded away, excepting a portion
of the Ward plantation and six hundred and forty acres around the
Spring. These reservations were made by McIntosh for himself. The first
embraced a large body of fertile land and the second the Spring, the
medical properties of which McIntosh well understood. This treaty was
ratified in Washington, March 2d, 1821.
This action of McIntosh and his adherents aroused another feud between
the rival wings of the tribe, which ended in a fierce battle. A heavy
loss was sustained on both sides, the McIntosh party suffering most
severely. Big Warrior was slain, and thus his party were left without
a leader. A little later the orator chief and McIntosh met and smoked
the calumet. How faithless the first named could prove to this solemn
covenant will be shown. In 1823, General McIntosh and Joel Bailey
erected the main building of the Indian Spring Hotel, and opened it
for the reception of visitors. This building is still yearly occupied
for the purposes originally intended. About the same date other
improvements were made, and Indian Spring became a favorite resort at
that day. The visits of the whites increased rapidly, and they sought
to secure residences, or camped out; while the Indians, now peaceable,
also flocked to the "Healing Water."
By an agreement, all parties met at Indian Spring to consider a second
treaty, early in February, 1825. The Government agents were protected
by United States troops, and large forces of the opposing Indian
factions were present. The negotiations were conducted in the hotel,
and concluded February 7th, 1825. Under this treaty all the Indian
possessions in Georgia were ceded to the whites, and an early removal
of the tribe arranged for.
The agency of General McIntosh in bringing about this treaty resulted
in his death within a few months. When it was announced that the treaty
was concluded, Hopoethleyoholo seized the occasion to give vent to his
long pent-up wrath. The Indians of both the old factions were present
in large numbers. All were excited. At last the orator chief mounted
the large rock yet seen at the south end of the Varner House, and gave
vent to his feelings and purposes in the following characteristic talk:
"Brothers, the Great Spirit has met here with his painted children
of the woods and their paleface brethren. I see his golden locks in
the sunbeams; he fans the warrior's brow with his wings and whispers
sweet music in the winds; the beetle joins his hymn and the mocking
bird his song. You are charmed! Brothers, you have been deceived! A
snake has been coiled in the shade and you are running into his open
mouth, deceived by the double-tongue of the paleface chief (McIntosh),
and drunk with the fire-water of the paleface. Brothers, the hunting
grounds of our fathers have been stolen by our chief and sold to
the paleface. Whose gold is in his pouch? Brothers, our grounds are
gone, and the plow of the paleface will soon turn up the bones of our
fathers. Brothers, are you tame? Will you submit? Hopoethleyoholo says
no!" Then turning to McIntosh, who was standing with the commissioners
at a window a few feet distant, he continued: "As for you,
double-tongued snake, whom I see through the window of the paleface,
before many moons have waned your own blood shall wash out the memory
of this hated treaty. Brothers, I have spoken."
By this treaty the Spring became the property of the State and the
ceded land was laid out in lots in 1826, the Commonwealth reserving
ten acres around the Spring for the benefit of her citizens then and
thereafter. The act establishing Butts County was passed in 1826. The
village of Indian Spring was incorporated by legislative enactment
in 1837, and in 1866, a second act changed the name to McIntosh and
extended the limits of the incorporation.
DEATH OF MCINTOSH.
General McIntosh and family removed to his plantation on the
Chattahoochee, and evidently rested secure. But the avenger was on the
war path, and the distinguished chieftain, who had rendered the whites
such signal service, was doomed.
In compliance with the advice of Hopoethleyoholo, a secret council was
held, at which one hundred braves were selected to secure the vengeance
desired, and these, headed by the wily orator, set out westward. When
near his residence, McIntosh and his son-in-law, Hawkins, were seen by
their hidden foe riding together. "They could then have been easily
killed," says White's Statistics, "but their lives were spared for
the moment to preserve a consistency so common in all plans of the
Indians. They had determined to kill McIntosh in his own yard, in the
presence of his family, and to let his blood run upon the soil of that
reservation which had been secured to him by the treaty." From the same
authority we learn McIntosh rode home unconscious of danger, while the
savages prepared for their work. Lightwood was procured to fire the
buildings. About three o'clock the premises were surrounded, and it
was not until the torch had been applied to the outbuildings that the
sleepers were aroused. Chilly McIntosh, the chief's son--who is yet
living--escaped through a window of one of the outhouses, and, running
the gauntlet, swam the river. General McIntosh, upon discovering his
assailants, barricaded the door and stood near it when it was forced.
He fired on them, and at that moment one of his steadfast friends,
Toma Tustinugse, fell upon the threshold riddled with balls. The chief
then retreated to the second story, with four guns in his hand, which
he continued to discharge from a window. He fought with great courage,
and, aware that his end was near, determined to sell his life as dearly
as possible. He was at this time the only occupant of the burning
house; for his two wives, Peggy and Susannah, who had been dragged into
the yard, were heard imploring the savages not to burn him up, but to
get him out of the house, and shoot him, as he was a brave man and an
Indian like themselves. McIntosh came down to the first floor, where he
fell pierced with many balls. He was then seized and dragged into the
yard. While lying there, the blood gushing from his wounds, he raised
himself on one arm and surveyed his murderers with looks of defiance,
and it was while so doing he was stabbed to the heart by an Ocfuskee
Indian. The chief was scalped and the buildings plundered and burned.
The party then sought for Hawkins, whom they also killed. His body was
thrown into the river.
AN INDIAN ELOPEMENT.
The family of General McIntosh spent the summer of 1826, at Indian
Spring, where his two youngest daughters, who had been highly educated,
spent their time in associating alternately with the dusky maidens of
their tribe and their palefaced sisters. During the visit one of the
sisters created a decided sensation by eloping with an Indian lover. A
gentleman now residing in the vicinity who at that time was a little
boy, whose parents were camped at the Spring, was at the McIntosh
cabin--then situated on the lot north of the Varner Hotel--when the
occurrence took place. There were hundreds of Indians camped on the
adjacent hills--the friendly party on the south side of the creek and
the adherents of Hypoethleyoholo on the north bank. The lover was a
leading chief of the latter party, and the match was bitterly opposed
by the McIntosh family and their adherents who keenly remembered the
sad events of the previous year; but the young lovers, who had long
since determined upon their course, cared not for opposition and well
arranged their plans.
On a bright Sunday morning our little white friend--now an aged and
respected citizen--was swinging in the cabin with the two girls when
an unusual commotion in the yard attracted the attention of all, and
they rushed to the door. The young girl's favorite pony was hitched
outside. Coming up the hill from the creek was seen the determined
lover, mounted, and accompanied by a score of his braves. On seeing him
approach, his intended rushed into the cabin, and, amidst the tears
and vehement protestations of her mother and sister, who were weeping
bitterly, she rapidly cast off the habiliments of civilization and
arrayed herself in a complete Indian costume. This accomplished, she
turned to her weeping friends, and after much talk in the language
of her tribe, she embraced them without shedding a tear, and rushed
out, kissing her little friend, who was gazing upon the scene with
wonder. The lover and his escort were drawn up near the gate; not a
word was said, and the girl sprang upon her pony and took her place in
the line behind her intended. Silently the party then moved down the
hill, crossed the creek, and were soon out of sight. They were legally
married at Lawrenceville, Gwinnett County, Georgia, and the union was a
happy and prosperous one.--_Jackson, (Ga.,) Argus_.
[Illustration: To the Fifteenth Annual Conference of the Georgia
Daughters of the American Revolution in Augusta Assembled
Mrs. S.W. Foster State Regent
This Partial Map of the McIntosh Trail is sent by the Sarah Dickinson
Chapter D.A.R. Newnan, Ga.
Mrs. R. H. Hardaway--Regent
Mrs. E. G. Cole--Vice Regent
Mrs. J. E. Robinson--Secretary
Miss Lutie N. Powell--Treasurer
]
TRACING THE McINTOSH TRAIL.
The McIntosh trail begins as far west as Talladega, Ala., and perhaps
further, going eastward 3 miles above Senoia, in Coweta County,
Georgia, where it diverges, one trail going to Augusta and the other
via Indian Springs to Macon. Mrs. Yeandle has traced the trail from
Augusta to Senoia. Perhaps some daughter will trace it to Macon from
its point of divergence. I am tracing it west from the neighborhood of
Senoia to Talladega, Ala. The trail runs about 3 miles north of Senoia,
and near there McIntosh built a fort, the ruins of which may still be
seen. Senoia was given the name of a princess of the Cowetas. Her name
is about all that remains of her, her history being buried in oblivion.
The trail runs north of Turin, crosses Hegg Creek near the home of the
Rev. Mr. Rees, then through Sharpsburg, north of Raymond, following
part of the old McIntosh road entering Newnan on the southeast, down
Greenville street across Mrs. Atkinson's lot to LaGrange street, across
Miss Long's lot and a livery stable lot into Spring street. The direct
route is here uncertain, because of home-building, but it crosses the
Central Railroad into Ray Park, on to an unusual road called Rocky
road, which leads over a creek to the Chattahoochee, where it crosses
the river west of the McIntosh reserve. The reserve is a square mile
in a sharp bend of the river, and on both sides of the Chattahoochee,
being partly in Carroll County and party in Coweta, and at this bend
the river runs for some distance west instead of south. On the Carroll
side the Chief McIntosh had his home, and there he was murdered by
his race, in 1826. And there he is buried. The trail now runs almost
due west across the southern part of Carroll County, Georgia, and
across the northern parts of Clay and Randolph Counties, Alabama, into
Talladega County, to the town of Talladega. This part of the trail is
more certain than elsewhere, because the pioneers blazed the trail,
cutting three notches into the numerous trees of the unbroken forest.
Over this trail Andrew Jackson marched his troops against the British
in 1812-13-14-15, McIntosh and his force going with him. The forests
have gone down before the fields, and here is perhaps the finest white
yeomanry in Georgia. It is considered that they produce the finest
short staple cotton in the world. Schools and churches abound and the
population is fast advancing in culture. But to take up the trail
again: It leaves the reserve, going through Lowell, thence to Tyrus
by Mexico campground; then one-half mile north of Black Jack mountain
through Buchanan town into Alabama, one-half mile north of Gratan
postoffice by Bethel campground. Then crossing the little Tallapoosa
on Saxon's bridge near Saxon's mill, on the Big Tallapoosa, where it
crosses at Ridley's bridge through Chillafinnee, then goes on north
of Ironton to Talladega, Alabama. Perhaps this trail goes further
west than Talladega, but an effort to trace it has failed so far. Our
Chapter still hopes to find whether it continues. No doubt the whole
country was a network of trails, and this must antedate the time of
McIntosh. It must go back to the days when the Indians had no beasts of
burden.--MRS. R. H. HARDAWAY, Newnan, Ga.
GEORGIA SONG.
I
Blest is thy land, fair Georgia;
From the mountains to the sea.
The purpose of whose founders was
The opprest from wrongs to free.
REFRAIN:
Then hail to thee, our Georgia!
For of the "Old Thirteen"
No brighter star shone ever,
Or ever shall be seen.
II
"Not for themselves, but others,"
Was the way their motto ran;
And in the path of mercy
Did they early lead the van.
III
Our fathers sought the "new world,"
With a motive grand and high,
And faith in God hath ever
Led our hopes unto the sky.
IV
And so on strong foundations,
We see stately columns rise,
As symbols of those virtues,
That our Georgia people prize.
V
A soldier guards the portals
While a sunburst from above,
Illumines arch and pillars
With God's all protecting love.
VI
God grant our solons Wisdom,
Let strict Justice hold the scale
And Moderation guide the hand,
That must make the law prevail.
--_By J. T. Derry._
Many of the states have a state song for the school children. Georgia
has never yet had one. There are efforts being made to supply this
deficiency.
The founders of the colony of Georgia had a threefold purpose:
First--To provide a home for the honest debtor class of Great Britain,
so that in the new world they might have a new chance.
Second--To offer to persecuted sects of Europe a refuge from oppression.
Third--To oppose a barrier against Spanish aggression upon the colony
of South Carolina.
The raising of silk and indigo were to be the chief industries of the
new colony. The trustees were to make for themselves no profit out of
their enterprises. Hence on one side of the seal adopted for the colony
of Georgia by the trustees was a representation of silk worms busy at
their work and the motto was: "Non sibi, Sed Aliis," which means, "Not
for themselves, but for others."
When Georgia became a state a seal was adopted on the front side
of which are represented three columns, marked: "Wisdom, Justice,
Moderation," which support the arch of the constitution. On arch and
pillar shine the rays of the rising sun. A soldier with drawn sword
guards the approaches.
With these two seals, one of the colony and the other of the state as
the inspiration, the above song has been suggested, the words being by
Professor J. T. Derry and the music by Mrs. Albert T. Spalding, both of
Atlanta, Ga.
[Illustration: MAP OF GEORGIA
SHOWING COLONIAL, REVOLUTIONARY AND INDIAN WAR PERIOD FORTS
BATTLEFIELDS AND TREATY-SPOTS CONSTRUCTED FROM OLD MAPS AND
DESCRIPTIONS IN EARLY HISTORIES.
PREPARED BY RUBY FELDER RAY, STATE HISTORIAN D.A.R. AUGUST, 1913.]
INDEX
A
Acton, 23, 27, 29
Adams, John, 28, 35, 151, 152
Adams, John Quincy, 151
Adams, Joseph, 33
Adams, Samuel, 22, 23, 24, 26
Alamance, 15, 20, 21
Allston, Washington, 85, 86
America, Song, 11
American Monthly Magazine Quoted from, 12, 20, 34, 45, 71, 87, 153,
154, 160, 168, 184, 197, 227, 251, 276, 283, 292, 297
Anderson, Major George W., 58
Andre, Major, 19
Arnett, Mrs. Hanna, 293, 297
Art and Artists of the Revolution, 84, 87
Atlanta, 59
Augusta, 57, 171
Austin, James Waddy, 307
B
Baber, Ambrose, 313
Bacon, Nathaniel, 47
Baker, Colonel, 77
Baker, John, 170
Baker's Creek, 67
Bancroft's History, 34
Barksdale, Lucy, 136-138
Barrett, Colonel, 29
Barry, Margaret Katherine, 81, 84
Barry, Richard, 81
Bartlett, 35
Baxter, 189
Beach, Edward, 131
Beach, Ephraim, 130
Bedford, 27
Bennington, 187, 188, 207, 208
Billerica, 31
Blackshear, General, 237, 238
Blanchard, Luther, 29
Blue Laws of Old Virginia, 259-263
Blue Lick, Ky., 328
Bon Homme, Richard, 20, 134
Boone, Daniel, 180, 181, 328, 336, 337
Boston Port Bill, 165
Boston Tea Party, 15
Boy and his Arrow, 351, 352
Boyd, British Colonel, 109, 110
Brandywine, 37, 72, 74, 323
Bratton, Mrs., 117
Braxton, 36
Brewton, Mrs., 189, 190
Brookline, 33
Brooks, John, 31
Brown, Jonas, 29
Brown, Thomas, British Colonel, 63, 171
Bruton Church, 46
Bryan, Jonathan, 168
Buford, Colonel, 82, 83
Bulloch, Archibald, 140, 170
Bunker Hill, 34, 206
Burgoyne, John, 186, 187
Burnham, Florence, I. W., 197
Burnley, Harry, 136, 138
Burr, Aaron, 19
Burr, Theodosia, 293
Buttrick, Major John, 29
Byne, Annie, 108
Byne, Edmund, 104
Byron, Lord (quoted), 18
C
Cahokia, 180, 183, 184
Calhoun Plantation, 65
Cambridge, 22, 33, 34, 206
Camden, 82, 115
Cameron, Alexander, 68, 69
Cameron, Capt. Charles, 139
Campbell, British Colonel, 170
Campbell, John A., 128
Carlisle, 27
Carlton, Kitty, 102
Carlton, Will, 161
Carmack, E. W., 152
Carroll, 36
Caswell, Richard, 277
Catherine II of Russia, 20
Cedar Springs, 81
Chain, Isaiah, 22
Charles River, 22
Charlestown, Mass, 22
Charlestown Neck, 22
Charlestown (now Charleston) S. C., 114, 171, 316
Chase, 36
Chatham, Earl of, 28
Chehaw (Indian Town), 237
Chelmsford, 27
Chelsea, 32
Cherokees, 100
Chew, Sallie, 37
Chidsey, Mrs. Will, 347
Childers, J. S., 312
Chivers, Sabina, 216
Christie, Colonel, 70
Clark, George Rogers (Major; then Colonel, then Brig. General), 180-184
Clark, 35
Clarke, Elijah (Colonel; then General), 63, 109, 110, 171, 172, 253,
264, 266
Clarke, Mrs. Hannah, 215
Clarke, John, 172, 214-220
Clarke, Miss Frances, 56
Clarke, Nancy, 219
Clayton, Mrs. Mary C. B., 175
Clayton, Mrs. R. B., 182
Cleghorn, Wm., 257-259
Clemson College, 65
Clergy Hall, 65
Clifton, Mrs. Annie Daniel, 324-326
Clymer, George, 238
Cockspur Island, 58
Cole, Mrs. H. G., 101
Cole, Thomas, 87
Coleraine, Treaty of, 238
Coligny, Admiral, 56
Collier, St. George, Admiral, 178
Collier, Edna Jones, 160
Colonial Congress, 15
Committee of Safety, 22
Concord, 26, 30-34
Concord River, 27
Conner, R. D. W., 283
Continental Congress, 15
Continentals, 16
Conway, General, 74
Cook, Mrs. Mary, 344
Copeland, Edna Arnold, 300
Copely, John S., 84
Cornwallis, Lord, 53, 75, 168
Corn-acre or Coronaca Creek, 67
Cothran, Mrs. Barrett, 131
Counties of Georgia with Indian Names, 330, 331
Cowpens, 81
Crany Island, 178
Crawford, Wm. H., 78
Cunningham, Bill, Noted Tory, 114
Custis, Martha (Mrs. Geo. Washington), 160
Cylmer, 36
D
Daddy, Cyrus, 53, 54
Danvers, 33
Davenport, John, 136, 138
Davie, Colonel, then General, 90
Davis, Captain Isaac, 29, 30
Davis, Mrs. Isaac, 29, 30
Davis, Wm. Warren, 334
Dawes, Wm., 22, 23
Declaration of Independence and Names of Signers, 36
Dedham, 32
De Grasse, 180
DeKalb, 115
Derry, Joseph T., 369, 370
D'Estaing, 74, 171
Detroit, 181
De Vaughn, Mrs. M. S., 53
Dies, Madam, 129, 130
Dillard, Mrs., 117
Doocy, Miss Helen T., 12
Dooly, John, 63, 109, 110, 171, 172, 253
Dorchester, 33
Dozier, Margaret, 123, 124
Drake, 318
Drayton, Mrs. Henry, 113
Dreher, Dr. T. H., 197
Dunmore, Governor, 177
Driver Stephen (and "Old Glory"), 323
Dunlap, Gabriel, 353, 358
E
Education of Men and Women, 243, 251
Eisenberg, Mrs. Harriet D., 37
Elbert County, Ga., 63
Elbert, Samuel, 170
Eliot, Apostle of the Indians, 26
Ellery, 35
Emanuel, David, 170
Emerson, Arthur, 178
Emerson, Wm., 29, 34
Etowah Chapter, D. A. R., 65
Eugene, Prince of Savoy, 17
Eutaw Springs, S. C., 188
F
Fauquier, Francis, 47
Federation Magazine, 192
Federal Hall, 13
Ferguson, Colonel (British), 255
Few, Benjamin, Colonel, 171
Few, William, Colonel, 171
Fisher, Mrs., 191
Fisher's Hill, 31
Fitch, George, 209
Flag of our Country, 154
Flag Day, 317, 318, 319, 328
Flag of Columbus, 319, 320
Flag of the Cabots, 320
Flag (Red Cross of St. George), 320
Flag Union Jack, 320
Flag of United States, 321, 323
Styled Flower-Flag, 321
Flag of France, 321
Flag of Great Britain, 321
Fletchall, Noted Tory, 114
Floyd, Wm., 35
Folsom, Glorianna, 120, 121
Fordyce, British Captain, 177
Fort Andrew, 56
Fort Argyle, 56, 57
Fort Barrington, 57
Fort Carr, 57
Fort Charles, 56
Fort Cornwallis, 57
Fort Dearborn--A Story, 331, 332
Fort Grierson, 57
Fort Halifax, 57
Fort Hawkins, 58, 239
Fort Hill, 65, 71
Fort Howe, 57
Fort McAllister, 58
Fort McPherson, 59
Fort Mims in Alabama, 58
Fort Mitchell, 58
Fort Morris, 57, 171
Fort Motte, 114
Fort Moultrie, 114, 171
Fort Nelson, Va., 178
Fort Pulaski, 58
Fort Rutledge, 65, 70, 71
Fort Scott, 58
Fort Sherrills, 57
Fort Thunderbolt, 56
Fort Wilkinson (Treaty of), 238
Foster, Hannah A., 276
Foster, Rev., 31
Franklin, Benjamin, 17
Freeman, John, 105
Frierson, James S., 312
Fuser, British Colonel, 57
G
Gadsden, Christopher, 113
Gage, British General, 22
Gardner, Isaac, 33, 34
Gates, Horatio, 73, 82
Gazette, Georgia Newspaper, 61
Gentry, Susie--State Vice Regent D. A. R., 20, 150
George II, 17
George III, 21, 47
Georgetown, S. C., 316
Georgia, 17, 55, 59, 61
Condition of during Revolution, 61, 65
Counties, 95, 99
Heroes in the Revolution, 168, 173
Women of Early Days, 301-307
Georgia Song, 369, 370
Germantown, 37
Gerry, 35
Glenn, George (Judge), 333
Golden Horse Shoe Knights, 46
Great Bridge, Va., 177
Great Fields, 30
Greene, Colonel Christopher, 166
Greene, General Nathaniel, 82, 116, 153, 167
Gregory, Rev. Thomas B., 13, 20, 59, 328
Grierson, British Colonel, 57
Guilford Court House, 83, 137
Gwinnett, Button, 36, 118, 142, 170, 298-300
H
Habersham, Joseph, 169, 170
Hadley, Samuel, 25
Hall, Lyman, 36, 118, 119, 142, 169, 170
Hall, Marion Jackson, 255
Hamilton, Alexander, 19, 152
Hampton, Wade, 117
Hampton, Va., 176
Hancock, John, 18, 19, 22, 23, 24
Hardaway, Mrs. R, H., 352, 368
Harrington, Caleb, 25
Harrington, John, 25
Harris, Ethel Hillyer, 102
Harrison, 35
Harrison, Sallie Marshall Martin, 288
Hart, Benjamin, 252, 254
Hart, Nancy, 63, 172, 190, 191
Hart, Colonel Thomas of Ky., 252
Hart, John, 255
Hart, 35
Harvard College, 34
Hawkins, Colonel Benjamin, 236, 239
Haynes, Josiah, 30, 31
Hayward, James, 31, 32
Hazen, General, 58
Heath, Wm., 33
Henry, Patrick, 18, 46, 152, 181
Hewes, 36
Heyward, 36
Hill, Benjamin, 55
Hillyer Family, 107, 108
Historic Tree, 100, 101
Hobson Sisters, 284-288
Holt, Thaddeus G., 312
Hooper, 36
Hopkins, Stephen, 35
Hopkinson, 35
Horry, Peter, 188, 189
Horne, Joab, 79, 80
Hosmer, Abner, 29
Houston, John, 140
Howe, Robert, 141
Howell, Mrs. Annie Davidson, 138
Huger, General, 316
Huguenots, 56, 113
Huntington, 35
I
Illinois, 180, 181
Independence Day, 101, 125, 126
Indian Mound (Early County), 344, 345
Indian Names of Counties in Georgia, 330, 331
Indian Names of States, 346, 347
Indians, 62
Irwin, Jane, 241
Irwin, Jared, 240
Irwin, (Gov. Jared Irwin) Chapter, D. A. R., 242
J
Jackson, Argus, 366
Jackson, James, 77, 79, 170, 173
Jasper, Wm., Sergeant, 119, 171
Jefferson, Thomas, 28, 36, 46, 143-149, 181
Jennings, Edmund, 47
Jones, John Paul, 20, 132, 133, 134, 323
Jones, Noble Wimberly, 140, 168, 169
K
Kansas City Star, 213
Kaskaskia, 180, 182, 183
Keim, Mrs. De B. Randolph, 243
Kentucky, 180, 181
Kettle Creek, Ga., Battle of, 108-110, 171, 172, 215
Key, Francis Scott of Maryland, Author of the Star Spangled Banner, 324
King's Mountain, 255, 256, 265
Kinzie, John, 332
L
Lamar, Henry G., 312
Lamar, L. Q. C., 128
LaFayette, Marquis, 72, 76, 168, 180, 312-316
Larey, 115
Laurens, John, 116
Lee, Charles, 73
Lee, Francis Lightfoot, 36
Lee, Harry (Light Horse Harry), 116, 121, 122, 172, 274-276
Lee, Richard Henry, 36, 173
Lewis, Francis, 35
Lexington, Mass., 14, 20, 21, 22-34, 206
Lexington Common, 24
Liberty County, Ga., 169
Lincoln, Benjamin (American General), 170, 171, 172
Little, Mrs. R. C., 100
Littleton, 27, 31
Livingston, 35
Lockwood, Mrs. Mary, 293
Lords Proprietors, 14
Lover's Leap, near Columbus, Ga., 337
Louis XVI. King of France, 20
Louisburg, 25
Lynch, 36
Lynch, Thomas, 113
Mc
McCall, E., 312
McCall, R., 312
McClain, Mrs. Bessie Carolyn, 72
McCrady, 66
McGirth, Noted Tory, 171
McGray, Major, 328
McIlhenny, Rev. James, 65
McIntosh, Lachlan, 299-300
McIntosh, The Chief, 364
McIntosh Trail, 367, 368
McKean, 36
M
Mackey, Charles, 88-93
Mackey, Mrs. Charles, 88-93
Madison, James, 46, 147
Malvern Hill, 75
Manchester, Anna B., 168
Manning, a Virginia Lieutenant, 188
Marietta, 100
Marion, Francis (The Swamp Fox), 53, 79, 89, 266-274
Martin, Grace and Rachael, 111, 121, 122
Martin, John, 204, 205
Mason, George of Va., 181
Massey, Katharine B., 95
Matthews, Major, 178
Maury Public School, 12
Mayhew, Jonathan, 150
Meadow Garden, 142
Mecklenburg Declaration, 15
Medford, 23
Mell, Mrs. P. H., 65
Men of Mark in Georgia (quoted), 140-142
Mercer, Jesse, 214-216
Merriam's Corner, 31
Miami Indians, 19
Middleton, 36
Middleton, Arthur, 113
Milledge, John, 169, 170
Minute Men, 23, 24, 32
Moffattsville, 67
Moncrief, Colonel, 190
Monmouth, Battle of, 73, 75
Monroe, James, 117
Moore, Charles, 83
Moore, Hall, 41
Moore, Rosa, 81, 82
Moore's Creek, 277-283
Morgan, Daniel, 82, 83
Morgan, Mrs. John H., 264
Morgan, Mrs. Joseph, 307
Morris, Gouverneur, 131
Morris, 36
Morris, Lewis, 35
Morrow, Miss Emily G., 87
Morton, 36
Motte, Mrs. Rebecca, 117, 121, 122
Mount Claire, N. Y., 327
Mugford, James Captain, 211-213
Munroe, Robert, 25
Murphey, James, 65
Musgrove's Mill, 81
Muzzey, Isaac, 25
N
National Magazine, 195
National Song of the D. A. R. by Dr. Francis H. Orme, 52
Nelson, 36
Nesbit, British Officer at Concord, 31
Nesbit, Wilbur D., 175
Nixon, Capt., 30
Norfolk, Va., 178, 179
North Bridge at Concord, 27
Nye, Bill (quoted), 187, 188, 191
O
Oconore Creek, 68
Oglethorpe, James Edward, 17, 59-61, 168
O'Hara, C. M. Mrs., 55, 101
Old Virginia Gentleman, 157-160
Olmstead, Colonel Charles H., 58
Olney, Captain Stephen, 167-168
Orators of the American Revolution, 150-153
Orme, Dr. Francis H., 52
Orme, Mrs. Francis H., 93, 274
Otis, James, 151
Our Legacy, 276
P
Paca, 36
Page, Thomas Nelson (Quoted), 147, 153
Paine, Robert, 35
Park, Mrs. Emily Hendree, 46
Park, M. M., 205
Parker, John, 24, 31
Parker, Jonas, 25
Party Relations in England and their effect on the American Revolution,
221-227
Patterson, Caroline, 79
Patterson, Clara D., 235
Payne, John Howard, 334
Payson, Rev., 32
Penn, 36
Pepperell, General, 32
Percy, Lord, 32, 34
Petersburg, Va., 179
Philips, British General, 75
Pickens, Andrew, American General, 109, 110, 115, 171, 172, 238
Pinckney, Charles Catesworth, 117
Pinckney, Thomas, 117
Piquet, Lea Motte (French Naval Officer), 133
Pitcairn, British Major., 24, 25
Pitcher, Mollie, 195
Pitt, Wm. Earl of Chatham, 16
Pittman, Philip, 131, 132
Poor Richard's Almanac, 17
Porter, Asabel, 25
Portsmouth, Va., 179
Prescott, Samuel, 23, 29
Prescott, Wm., 32
Princeton University, 146
Provincial Congress, 26
Pulaski, Count Casimir, 171
Q
Quincy, Josiah, 151, 152
R
Raleigh, Sir Walter, 46
Randolph, Jane, 143
Randolph, Peyton, 46
Ranger, Ship of Paul Jones, 133, 322
Ray, Ruby Felder, 128
Reading, 31
Real Georgia Cracker, 135
Reid, 36
Regulators, 21
Revolutionary Puzzle, 112
Revolutionary Relics, 196, 197
Revere, Paul, 22, 23
Rhode Island in the American Revolution, 162-168
Ribault (Rebo). John, 56
Ridge, Indian Chief, 332, 333
Robert, Elizabeth, 53, 54
Robert, John, 53, 54
Robinson, John (Lieut. Colonel), 29
Rochambeau, (French General), 74, 180
Rodney, 36
Ross, 36
Ross, Betsy, 133, 321
Roxbury, 32
Royalists, 16, 53
Rush, 36
Rutherford, General, 70
Rutledge, John, 113, 114, 190
S
Saint Andrew's Parish, Ga., 169
Saint John's Parish, Ga., 169
Saint Vincent, 181
Sallette, Robert, 308-311
Salvador, Francis, 67
Salzburgers, 60
Saratoga, 186, 187, 208
Satilla River, 57
Savannah, Ga., 56, 59, 64, 171, 172
Savannah River, 59
Scanlon, Michael, 12
Sears, Mrs. Walter J., 161
Seneca River, 66
Serapis, British Ship, 20, 134
Sequoia, Cherokee Indian, 348-350
Shelton, Martha, 148
Sherman, General Wm. T., 58
Shipp, J. E. D., 252
Shippen, Peggy, 37
Sigsbee, C. D. Rear Admiral, 134
Slavery in Georgia, 60
Slocumb, Ezekiel, 278-283
Slocumb, Mary, 277-283
Smith, 36
Smith, British Lieut. Colonel at Lexington, 22, 30
Somerset, British Man of War, 22
Song of Marion's Men, 274
Song of the Revolution, 52
Sons of the Revolution, Report of, 76
South Bridge at Concord, 53, 54
South Carolina, 33, 112, 118
Spalding, Mrs. Albert T. Jr., 370
Spottswood, Va., Governor, 46
Spring Place, 334
Stabler, Edward, 173, 174
Stark, General John, 187, 206, 207
State Flowers, 93, 94
Steptoe Family, 157, 160
Steuben, Baron, 41, 42, 180
Stevens, Colonel, 177
Stillwell, Adeline W. V., 289
Stirling, John, 120, 121
Stockton, 35
Stone, 36
Stony Point, 19
Stovall, 315
Strozier, Peter, 123, 124
Stuart, Gilbert, 87
Sully, Thomas, 85
Sumter, General Thomas (The "Game Cock"), 115
Sunbury, Ga., 57, 171
T
Tarleton, British Colonel, 88-93
Taylor, 36
Telfair, Edward, 169, 170
Thaxter, Rev., 27
Thomas, Mrs., 117
Thomas, Mrs. Walter, 345
Thompson, Metta, 154
Thompson, Wm., 114
Thornton, 35
Thrash, Nannie Strozier, 124
Thweatt, John Hamilton, 192, 195
Thweatt, Tabitha, 192, 195
Ticonderoga, 207
Tomochichi, Indian Chief, 60
Toombs, Robert, 55
Tories in England and America, 16, 53, 54, 221-227
Tracy, Edward D., 315
Transportation, Early Means of, 228-235
Treadway, Beatrice O'Rear, 350
Trenton, 167, 207
Treutlen, John Adam, 170, 197-204, 299
Troup, Governor George M., 218
Trumbull, John, 85
Tryon, British Governor, 15, 21
Tucker, Capt. Samuel, 211
Turner, Roberta G., 337
Tweedy, Mrs. J. D., 132
Twiggs, John, 171
U
Uncle Sam, 87, 88
Uncrowned Queens and Kings, 185-192
United States Treasury Seal, 173, 174
University of Virginia, 146
V
Valley Forge, 18, 37-45, 74
Vanderlyn, John, 85-86
Van Dycke, 84
Vann House, 332-334
Vincennes, 180, 183, 184
Virginia Revolutionary Forts, 175-184
W
Waites, Judge, 316
Waldo, Dr., 37
Walker, Mrs. J. L., 195
Walmsley, James Elliott, 221
Walton, George, 36, 118, 140-142, 170
Ward, General Artemas, 211-212
Wardlaw, G. B., 312
War Hill (Scene of Battle of Kettle Creek), 109
Warren, Joseph, 22, 23, 151
Washington, George, 12, 13, 18, 28, 37-45, 160, 161, 168, 179, 180,
289-292
Washington, Mrs., 41, 160, 161
Waxhaws, S. C., 83
Wayne, Anthony, 19, 77
Wereat, John, 77, 170
West, Benjamin, 85
West Cambridge, 33
Westford, 27, 29
Whigs in England and America during the Revolution, 221-227
Whipple, 35
White, 336, 337
White, Captain, then Colonel John, 177
William and Mary College, 48, 49, 146
Williamsburg, Va., 46
Williams, 35
Williams, James, 115
Williamson, Andrew, 115
Williamson, Micajah, 127
Williamson, Sarah Gilliam, 127
Williamson, Major, 67, 68, 69
Wilson, Clarissa, 321
Wilson Jonathan, 27, 31, 35
Wilson, Sarah, 322
Wilson, signer of Declaration of Independence, 36
Wilson, Samuel, 87
Wimpy, Mrs. W. C., 134
Wing, John, 47
Winn, Captain Richard, 57
Winthrop, John, 26
Witherspoon, 35
Woburn, 25
Wolcott, 35
Wood, Mrs. James S., 84
Wright, Sir James, 61
Wythe, George, 36, 48, 181
Y
Yamacraw Bluff, 59
Yankee Doodle, 32
Yazoo Fraud, 78, 241
Yorktown, 14, 18, 168, 179, 180
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.
Except for those changes noted below, misspelling by the authors,
inconsistent or archaic usage, has been retained.
TOC 'John Clark' changed to 'John Clarke'.
TOC 'Elijah Clark' changed to 'Elijah Clarke'.
TOC 'Somersett' changed to 'Somerset'.
TOC 'Chief Van' changed to 'Chief Vann'.
p14 'curosity' changed to 'curiosity'.
p31 'Wodburn' changed to 'Woburn'.
p32 'Fusileers' changed to 'Fusiliers'.
p36 'MeKean' changed to 'McKean'.
p45 'prosterity' changed to 'posterity'.
p45 'Monthty' changed to 'Monthly'.
p47 'indentified' changed to 'identified'.
p49 'Releigh' changed to 'Raleigh'.
p57 'Fort Sherrill's' changed to 'Sherrill's Fort'.
p58 'du Pont' changed to 'DuPont'.
p63 'Elizah Clarke' changed to 'Elijah Clarke'.
p75 'unusued' changed to 'unused'.
p77 'tryant' changed to 'tyrant'.
p82 'beside' changed to 'bedside'.
p84 'adso' changed to 'also'.
p89 'near Tarleston's' changed to 'near Tarleton's'.
p89 'auxiety' changed to 'anxiety'.
p92 'woudd inquire' changed to 'would inquire'.
p100 'dripped' changed to 'dropped'.
p100 'even them' changed to 'even then'.
p103 'humning bird' changed to 'humming bird'.
p107 'reconteur' changed to 'raconteur'.
p118 'chariman' changed to 'chairman'.
p126 'day are' changed to 'days are'.
p127 'Macajah' changed to 'Micajah'.
p139 'strugling' changed to 'struggling'.
p152 'conmenced' changed to 'commenced'.
p153 'Ceasar' changed to 'Caesar'.
p167 'Deleware' changed to 'Delaware'.
p167 'astaunded' changed to 'astounded'.
p171 'ignorinous' changed to 'ignominious'.
p173 'Governo' changed to 'Governor'.
p177 'importansce' changed to 'importance'.
p180 'endeavorers' changed to 'endeavors'.
p195 'Mommouth' changed to 'Monmouth'.
p200 'Truetlen' changed to 'Treutlen'.
p204 'diffcult' changed to 'difficult'.
p205 'Afteh' changed to 'After'.
p207 'nighborhood' changed to 'neighborhood'.
p214 'tapestry or' changed to 'tapestry of'.
p215 'inpetuous' changed to 'impetuous'.
p217 'gubernational' changed to 'gubernatorial'.
p218 'unconcious' changed to 'unconscious'.
p220 'toombstones' changed to 'tombstones'.
p225 'Westminister' changed to 'Westminster'.
p232 'co-called' changed to 'so-called'.
p236 'intrepreter' changed to 'interpreter'.
p241 'eGorgia' changed to 'Georgia'.
p249 'acros sthe' changed to 'across the'.
p254 'sprank' changed to 'sprang'.
p257 'apportunity' changed to 'opportunity'.
p263 'carrid' changed to 'carried'.
p263 'narby' changed to 'nearby'.
p264 'Independenct' changed to 'Independence'.
p266 'guson' changed to 'action'.
p267 'ignorminy' changed to 'ignominy'.
p269 'curosity' changed to 'curiosity'.
p279 'nag is' changed to 'nag as'.
p280 'she know' changed to 'she knew'.
p282 'Codgell' changed to 'Cogdell'.
p282 'sudsided' changed to 'subsided'.
p285 'Anges' changed to 'Agnes'.
p288 'Shirwood' changed to 'Sherwood'.
p300 'ta raise' changed to 'to raise'.
p308 'trooops' changed to 'troops'.
p313 'rceeive' changed to 'receive'.
p314 'Massonry' changed to 'Masonry'.
p314 'continue ti' changed to 'continue to'.
p322 'Betsey' changed to 'Betsy'.
p326 'spectotors' changed to 'spectators'.
p332 'CHIEF VAN' changed to 'CHIEF VANN'.
p333 'Chief Van' changed to 'Chief Vann'. (3 occurrences)
p334 'Chief Van' changed to 'Chief Vann'.
p334 'revaled' changed to 'revealed'.
p346 'Arkanses' changed to 'Arkansas'.
p346 'Mississippi ...' duplicate line deleted.
p351 'Winward Islands' changed to 'Windward Islands'.
p359 'affllicted' changed to 'afflicted'.
p364 'arond' changed to 'around'.
p364 'Roy Pork' changed to 'Ray Park'.
p367 'M'INTOSH' changed to 'McINTOSH'.
p370 'refuge form' changed to 'refuge from'.
Index: 'Allamance' changed to 'Alamance'.
Index: 'Carswell' changed to 'Caswell'.
Index: 'Cornacre' changed to 'Corn-acre'.
Index: 'Corthran' changed to 'Cothran'.
Index: 'De Kalb' changed to 'DeKalb'.
Index: 'Dier' changed to 'Dies'.
Index: 'Drehan' changed to 'Dreher'.
Index: Added 'E' at front of E entries.
Index: 'Fanquier' changed to 'Fauquier'.
Index: 'Flower Flag' changed to 'Flower-Flag'.
Index: Added 'H' at front of H entries.
Index: 'Rochaebeau' changed to 'Rochambeau'.
Index: 'Steben' changed to 'Steuben'.
Index: 'Van' changed to 'Vann'.
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Revolutionary Reader - Reminiscences and Indian Legends" ***
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