A year later, another strange band of pilgrims was welcomed—Protestants driven out of the Tyrolese valleys of Austria. A ship had been sent for them, and Oglethorpe gave them permission to select a home in any part of the province, and sent his carpenters to assist them in building their houses. Georgia owes much of her greatness to these sturdy people, whose love of independence was to find another vent in the Revolution.

As soon as these new arrivals were comfortably settled and provided for, Oglethorpe proceeded to London, where he secured the passage of laws prohibiting slavery and the importation of liquor into the colony, and not until his connection with it ended were slaves brought in. When he returned to Georgia, it was with two vessels, and over three hundred colonists—Scotchmen, Salzburgers and Moravians, the sturdiest people of the Old World. Oglethorpe welcomed them all, and it was this mixture of races which served to give Georgia her curious cosmopolitan population. Another important arrival was Charles Wesley, who came out as a missionary, and who acted for a time as the Governor's secretary. He was succeeded by the famous George Whitfield, who labored there until his death in 1770.

Oglethorpe's public career ended in 1754, when, having returned to England, he failed of election to parliament. His remaining years were spent in retirement. That he was an extraordinary man cannot be gainsaid, and the plan, so far in advance of his age, which he conceived and carried through to success, forms one of the most interesting experiments in colonization ever attempted anywhere.

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This, then, is the story in briefest outline of the men who discovered America and who fought for a foothold on her borders. Most of them, it will be noted, undertook the struggle not for commercial ends nor from the love of adventure, but in order to establish for themselves a home where they would be free in matters of the spirit. The traces of that purpose may be found on almost every page of American history and do much to render it the inspiring thing it is. We shall see how many of the great men who loom large in these pages traced their descent from those hardy pioneers for whom no sacrifice seemed too great provided it secured for them

"Freedom to worship God."



SUMMARY

COLUMBUS, CHRISTOPHER. Born at Genoa, Italy, probably in 1446; removed to Portugal about 1473; laid plan to reach the Indies before John II. of Portugal, 1484; appeared at court of Ferdinand and Isabella, 1485; Spanish monarchs agreed to his demands, April 17, 1492; sailed from Palos, August 3, 1492; discovered West Indies, October 12, 1492; returned to Palos, March 15, 1493; embarked on second voyage with 17 vessels and 1,500 men, September 25, 1493; discovered Dominica, Porto Rico, Jamaica, and returned to Spain, March, 1496; started on third voyage, May 30, 1498; discovered Trinidad and the mouth of the Orinoco; recalled to Santo Domingo by disorders and finally arrested and sent back to Spain in chains, October, 1500; released and started on fourth voyage in March, 1502; discovered Honduras, but was wrecked on Jamaica, and reached Spain again after terrible sufferings, November 7, 1504; passed his remaining days in poverty and died at Valladolid, May 20, 1506.

CABOT, JOHN. Born at Genoa, date unknown; became citizen of Venice, 1476; removed to Bristol, England, and in 1495 secured from Henry VII. a patent for the discovery, at his own expense, of unknown lands in the eastern, western, or northern seas; sailed from Bristol, May, 1497; discovered coast of Newfoundland and returned to England in August, 1497; date of death unknown.

CABOT, SEBASTIAN. Son of John Cabot, born probably at Venice, 1477; accompanied his father's expedition, 1497; commanded an English expedition in search of a northwest passage, 1517; removed to Spain and made grand pilot of Castile, 1518; sailed in command of a Spanish expedition, April 3, 1526; skirted coast of South America, discovered the Uruguay and Parana, and reached Spain again in 1530; returned to England, 1546; died at London, 1557.

VESPUCCI, AMERIGO. Born at Florence, Italy, March 9, 1451; removed to Spain, 1495; claimed to have accompanied four expeditions as astronomer in 1497, 1499, 1501 and 1503, during which some explorations were made of the coasts of both North and South America; died at Seville, February 22, 1512.

PONCE DE LEON, JUAN. Born in Aragon about 1460; accompanied the second voyage of Columbus, 1493; conquered Porto Rico and appointed governor, 1510; heard story from Indians of an island to the north named Bimini, on which was a fountain giving eternal youth to all who drank of its waters, and sailed in search of it, March, 1513; discovered the mainland and landed on April 8, Pascua Florida, or Easter Sunday, taking possession of the country for the King of Spain and calling it Florida, in honor of the day; returned to Porto Rico, September, 1513; sailed with a large number of colonists to settle Florida, March, 1521; attacked by Indians and forced to retreat, he himself being wounded by an Indian arrow and dying from the effects of the wound a short time later.

MAGALHAES, FERNAO DE; generally known as Ferdinand Magellan. Born in Portugal about 1480; sailed from Spain to find a western passage to the Moluccas, September 20, 1519; reached the Brazilian coast, explored Rio de la Plata, wintered on Patagonian coast, passed through Strait of Magellan and reached the Pacific, November 28, 1520; crossed the Pacific and discovered the Philippines, March 16, 1521; killed in a fight with the natives, April 27, 1521.

DRAKE, SIR FRANCIS. Born in Devonshire, England, about 1540; fitted out a freebooting expedition and attacked the Spanish settlements in the West Indies, 1572, capturing Porto Bello, Cartagena, and other towns and taking an immense treasure; sailed again from England, December, 1577, circumnavigating the globe and reaching home again September, 1580, where he was met by Queen Elizabeth and knighted on his ship; ravaged the West Indies and Spanish Main, 1585, and the coast of Spain, 1587; commanded a division of the fleet defeating the Spanish Armada, July, 1588; died off Porto Bello, 1596.

SOTO, HERNANDO DE. Born in Spain, 1500; took prominent part in conquest of Peru, 1532-1536; appointed governor of Porto Rico and Florida, 1537; landed at Tampa Bay, May 25, 1539; discovered the Mississippi, May, 1541; died of malarial fever and buried in the Mississippi, June, 1542.

CORONADO, FRANCISCO VASQUEZ DE. Born at Salamanca about 1500; reached Mexico in 1539, and in 1540, headed an expedition in search of Cibola and the Seven Cities supposed to have been founded seven centuries before by some Spanish bishops fleeing from the Moors; penetrated to what is now New Mexico and perhaps to Kansas, reaching Mexico again with only a remnant of his force; date of death unknown.

CARTIER, JACQUES. Born at St. Malo, France, December 31, 1494; made three voyages to Canada, 1534-1542; exploring the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and sailing up the St. Lawrence as far as Montreal; died after 1552.

HUDSON, HENRY. Date and place of birth unknown; sailed in service of Dutch East India Company to find a northwest passage, March 25, 1609; sighted Nova Scotia and explored coast as far south as Chesapeake Bay; explored Hudson river, September, 1609; sailed again to find a northwest passage, 1610; entered Hudson Bay and Hudson Strait, where he wintered; set adrift in open boat, with eight companions, by mutinous crew, June 23, 1611; never seen again.

SMITH, CAPTAIN JOHN. Born in Lincolnshire, England, in January, 1579; served in Netherlands and against Turks, sailed for Virginia with Christopher Newport, December 19, 1606; chosen president of colony, September 10, 1608; returned to London in autumn of 1609; explored New England coast, 1614; created admiral of New England, 1617; spent remainder of life in vain endeavor to secure financial support for a colony in New England; died at London, June 21, 1632.

CHAMPLAIN, SAMUEL DE. Born at Brouage, France, 1567; explored Canada and New England, 1603-1607; founded Quebec, 1608; discovered Lake Champlain, 1609; died at Quebec, December 25, 1635.

NICOLET, JEAN. Place and date of both birth and death unknown.

LA SALLE, ROBERT CAVALIER, SIEUR DE. Born at Rouen, November 22, 1643; came to Canada, 1666; set out on tour of western exploration, discovering Ohio river, 1669; descended the Mississippi to its mouth, 1681; led a band of colonists from France, 1685; missed mouth of river, and murdered by his own men while seeking it, March 20, 1687.

JOLIET, LOUIS. Born at Quebec, September 21, 1645; commissioned to explore Mississippi river, by Frontenac, governor of New France, 1672; explored Fox, Wisconsin, Mississippi and Illinois rivers, 1673; died May, 1700.

MARQUETTE, JACQUES. Born at Laon, France, 1637; accompanied Joliet in 1673; died near Lake Michigan, May 18, 1675.

BRADFORD, WILLIAM. Born at Austerfield, Yorkshire, England, 1590; governor of Plymouth colony, 1621-1657 (except in 1633-1634, 1636, 1638, 1644); died at Plymouth, Massachusetts, May 9, 1657.

WILLIAMS, ROGER. Born in Wales about 1600; reached Massachusetts, 1631; pastor at Plymouth and Salem, 1631-1635; ordered to leave colony and fled from Salem, January, 1636; founded Providence, June, 1636; went to England and obtained charter for Rhode Island colony, 1644; president of colony until death, April, 1684.

STUYVESANT, PETER. Born in Holland, 1602; served in West Indies, for a time governor of Curacao, and returned to Holland in 1644; appointed director-general of New Netherlands, 1646; reached New Amsterdam, 1647; surrendered colony to the English, September, 1664; died at New York, August, 1682.

PENN, WILLIAM. Born at London, October 14, 1644; became preacher of Friends, 1668; part proprietor of West Jersey, 1675; received grant of Pennsylvania, 1681; founded Philadelphia, 1682; returned to England, 1684; deprived of government of colony on charge of treason, 1692, but restored to it in 1694; visited Pennsylvania, 1699-1701; died at Ruscombe, Berks, England, July 30, 1718.

OGLETHORPE, JAMES EDWARD. Born at London, December 21, 1696; projected colony of Georgia for insolvent debtors and persecuted Protestants, and conducted expedition for its settlement, 1733; returned to England, 1743; died at Cranham Hall, Essex, England, 1785.

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CHAPTER III

WASHINGTON TO LINCOLN

Near the left bank of the Potomac river, in the northwestern part of Westmoreland county, Virginia, there stood, in the year 1732, a little cabin, where lived a planter by the name of Augustine Washington. It was a lonely spot, for the nearest neighbor was miles away, but the little family, consisting of father, mother, and two boys, Lawrence and Augustine, were kept busy enough wresting a living from the soil. Here, on the twenty-second day of February, a third son was born, and in due time christened George.

Just a century had elapsed since John Smith had died in London, but in that time the colony which he had founded and which had been more than once so near extinction, had grown to be the greatest in America. Half a million people were settled along her bays and rivers, engaged, for the most part, in the culture of tobacco, for which the colony had long been famous and which was the basis of her wealth. Her boundaries were still indefinite, for though, by, the king's charter, the colony was supposed to stretch clear across the continent to the Pacific, the country beyond the Blue Ridge mountains was still a wilderness where the Indian and the wild beast held undisputed sway. Even in Virginia proper, there were few towns and no cities, Williamsburg, the capital, having less than two hundred houses; but each planter lived on his own estate, very much after the fashion of the feudal lords of the Middle Ages, generous, hospitable, and kind-hearted, fond of the creature-comforts, proud of his women and of his horses, and satisfied with himself.

It was into this world that George Washington was born. While he was still a baby, his father moved to a place he purchased on the banks of the Rappahannock, opposite Fredericksburg, and here the boy's childhood was spent. His father died when he was only eleven years old, but his mother was a vigorous and capable woman, from whom her son inherited not a little of his sturdy character. He developed into a tall, strong, athletic youth, and many stories are told of his prowess. He could jump twenty feet; on one occasion he threw a stone across the Rappahannock, and on another, standing beneath the famous Natural Bridge, threw a stone against its great arch, two hundred feet above his head. He grew to be over six feet in height and finely proportioned—altogether a handsome and capable fellow, who soon commanded respect.

At that time, surveying was a very important occupation, since so much of the colony remained to be laid out, and George began to study to be a surveyor, an occupation which appealed to him especially because it was of the open air. He was soon to get a very important commission.

When Augustine Washington died, he bequeathed to his elder son, Lawrence, an estate on the Potomac called Hunting Creek. Near by lay the magnificent estate of Belvoir, owned by the wealthy William Fairfax, and Lawrence Washington had the good fortune to win the heart and hand of Fairfax's daughter. With the money his bride brought him, he was able to build for himself a very handsome dwelling on his estate, whose name he changed to Mount Vernon, in honor of the English admiral with whom he had seen some service. George, of course, was a frequent visitor at Belvoir, meeting other members of the Fairfax family, among them Thomas, sixth Lord Fairfax, who finally engaged him to survey a great estate which had been granted him by the king on the slope of the Blue Ridge mountains.

George Washington was only sixteen years of age when he started out on this errand into what was then the wilderness. It was a tremendous task which he had undertaken, for the estate comprised nearly a fifth of the present state, but he did it so well that, on Lord Fairfax's recommendation, he was at once appointed a public surveyor, and may fairly be said to have commenced his public career. His brother soon afterwards secured for him the appointment as adjutant-general for the district in which he lived, so that it became his duty to attend to the organization and equipment of the district militia. This was the beginning of his military service and of his study of military science. He was at that time eighteen years of age.

That was the end of his boyhood. You will notice that I have said nothing about his being a marvel of goodness or of wisdom—nothing, for instance, about a cherry tree. That fable, and a hundred others like it, were the invention of a man who wrote a life of Washington half a century after his death, and who managed so to enwrap him with disguises, that it is only recently we have been able to strip them all away and see the man as he really was. Washington's boyhood was much like any other. He was a strong, vigorous, manly fellow; he got into scrapes, just as any healthy boy does; he grew up straight and handsome, ready to play his part in the world, and he was called upon to play it much earlier than most boys are. We shall see what account he gave of himself.

When George was twenty years old, his brother Lawrence died and made him his executor. From that time forward, Mount Vernon was his home, and in the end passed into his possession. But he was not long to enjoy the pleasant life there, for a year later, he was called upon to perform an important and hazardous mission.

We have seen how La Salle dreamed of a great French empire, stretching from the Great Lakes to the mouth of the Mississippi. This was already becoming a reality, for the governor of Canada had sent troops to occupy the Ohio valley, and to build such forts as might be needed to hold it. This was bringing the French altogether too close for comfort. As long as they were content to remain in the Illinois country, nothing much was thought of it, for that was far away; but here they were now right at Virginia's back door, and there was no telling when they would try to force it open and enter. So Governor Dinwiddie, of Virginia, determined to dispatch a commissioner to the officer-in-command of the French, to summon him to leave English territory. The commissioner was also to try to kill two birds with one stone and form an alliance with the Indians, so that, if it came to fighting, the Indians would be with the English. No more delicate and dangerous mission could well be conceived, and after careful consideration, the governor selected George Washington to undertake it.

On October 30, 1753, Washington left Williamsburg, with a journey of more than a thousand miles before him. How that journey was accomplished, what perils he faced, what difficulties he overcame, how, on more than one occasion his life hung by a thread—all this he has told, briefly and modestly, in the journal which he kept of the expedition. Three months from the time he started, he was back again in Williamsburg, having faced his first great responsibility, and done his work absolutely well. He had shown a cool courage that nothing could shake, a fine patience, and a penetration and perception which nothing could escape. He was the hero of the hour in the little Virginia capital; the whole colony perceived that here was a man to be depended upon.

He had found the French very active along the Ohio, preparing to build forts and hold the country, and laughing at Dinwiddie's summons to vacate it. This news caused Virginia to put a military force in the field at once, and dispatch it to the west, with Washington in virtual command. It was hoped to build a strong fort at the junction of the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers, which would prevent the French getting to the Ohio, since all travel in that wilderness must be by water. On May 28, 1754, while hastening forward to secure this position, Washington's little force encountered a party of French, and the first shots were exchanged of the great contest which, twelve years later, was to result in the expulsion of the French from the continent. It was Washington who gave the word to fire, little foreseeing what history he was making.

"I heard the bullets whistle," he wrote home to his mother, "and believe me, there is something charming in the sound"—a bit of bravado which shows that Washington had not yet quite outgrown his boyhood. No doubt the bullets sounded much less charmingly five weeks later when he and his men, brought to bay in a rude fortification which he named Fort Necessity, were surrounded by a superior force of French and Indians, and, after an all-day fight, compelled to surrender. It is worth remarking that this bitter defeat—the first reverse which Washington suffered—occurred on the third day of July, 1754. Twenty-one years from that day, he was to draw his sword at the head of an American army.

Washington made his way back to Virginia with the news of his failure. The French had occupied the vantage ground he was aiming at and at once proceeded to erect a fort there, which they named Duquesne. Aid was asked from England to repel these invaders, and early in 1755, a great force under Major-General Edward Braddock advanced against the enemy. Washington served as aide-de-camp to the general, whose ideas of warfare had been gained on the battlefields of Europe, and who could not understand that these ideas did not apply to warfare in a wilderness. In consequence, when only a few miles from the fort, he was attacked by a force of French and Indians, his army all but annihilated and he himself wounded so severely that he died a few days later. During that fierce battle, Washington seemed to bear a charmed life. Four bullets tore through his coat and two horses were shot under him, but he received not a scratch, and did effective work in rallying the Virginia militia to cover the retreat. Three years later, he had the satisfaction of marching into Fort Duquesne with an English force, which banished the French for all time from the valley of the Ohio.

That victory ended the war for a time, and Washington returned to Virginia to marry a charming and wealthy widow, Mrs. Martha Custis, and to take the seat in the House of Burgesses to which he had just been elected. He served there for fifteen years, living the life of the typical Virginia planter on his estate of Mount Vernon, which had passed into his possession through the death of his brother's only child. He had become one of the most important men of the colony, whose opinion was respected and whose influence was very great.

During all this period, the feeling against England was growing more and more bitter. Let us be candid about it. The expulsion of the French from the continent had freed the colonies from the danger of French aggression and from the feeling that they needed the aid of the mother country. That they should have been taxed to help defray the great expense of this war against the French seems reasonable enough, but there happened to be in power in England, at the time, a few obstinate and bull-headed statesmen, serving under an obstinate and ignorant king, and they handled the question of taxation with so little tact and delicacy that, among them, they managed to rouse the anger of the colonies to the boiling point.

For the colonists, let us remember, were of the same obstinate and bull-headed stock, and it was soon evident that the only way to settle the difference was to fight it out. But the impartial historian must write it down that the colonies had much more to thank England for than to complain about, and that at first, the idea of a war for independence was not a popular one. As it went on, and the Tories were run out of the country or won over, as battle and bloodshed aroused men's passions, then it gradually gained ground; but throughout, the members of the Continental Congress, led by John and Samuel Adams, were ahead of public opinion.

As we have said, it soon became apparent that there was going to be a fight, and independent companies were formed all over Virginia, and started industriously to drilling. Washington, by this time the most conspicuous man in the colony, was chosen commander-in-chief; and when, at the gathering of the second Continental Congress at Philadelphia, came news of the fight at Lexington and Concord, the army before Boston was formally adopted by the Congress as an American army, and Washington was unanimously chosen to command it. I wonder if any one foresaw that day, even in the dimmest fashion, what immortality of fame was to come to that tall, quiet, dignified man?

That was on the 15th day of June, 1775, and Washington left immediately for Boston to take command of the American forces. All along the route, the people turned out to welcome him and bid him Godspeed. Delegations escorted him from one town to the next, and at last, on the afternoon of July 2d, he rode into Cambridge, where, the next day, in the shadow of a great elm on Cambridge Common, he took command of his army, and began the six years' struggle which resulted in the establishment of the independence of the United States of America.

His first task was to drive the British from Boston, and he had accomplished it by the following March. Then came a long period of reverses and disappointments, during which his little army, outnumbered, but not outgeneraled, was driven from Long Island, from New York, and finally across New Jersey, taking refuge on the south bank of the Delaware. There he gathered it together, and on Christmas night, 1776, while the enemy were feasting and celebrating in their quarters at Trenton, he ferried his army back across the ice-blocked river, fell upon the British, administered a stinging defeat, and never paused until he had driven them from New Jersey. That brilliant campaign effectually stifled the opposition which he had had to fight in the Congress, and resulted in his being given full power over the army, and over all parts of the country which the army occupied.

One more terrible ordeal awaited him—the winter of 1777-1778 spent at Valley Forge, where the army, without the merest necessities of life, melted away from desertion and disease, until, at one time, it consisted of less than two thousand effective men. The next spring saw the turning-point, for France allied herself with the United States; the British were forced to evacuate Philadelphia and were driven back across New Jersey to New York; and, finally, by one of the most brilliant marches in history, Washington transferred his whole army from the Hudson to the Potomac, and trapped Cornwallis and his army of seven thousand men at Yorktown. Cornwallis tried desperately to free himself, but to no avail, and on October 19, 1781, he surrendered his entire force.

There is a pretty legend that, as Cornwallis delivered up his sword, a cheer started through the American lines, but that Washington stilled it on the instant, remarking, "Let posterity cheer for us." Whether the legend be true or not, posterity has cheered, for that brilliant victory really ended the war, although two years passed before peace was declared and the independence of the United States acknowledged by the King of England.

Long before this, everybody knew what the end would be, and there was much discussion as to how the new country should be governed. A great many people were dissatisfied with the Congress, and it was suggested to Washington that there would be a more stable government if he would consent himself to be King or Dictator, or whatever title he might wish, and that the army, which had won the independence of the country, would support him. Washington's response was prompt and decisive.

"Let me conjure you," he wrote, "if you have any regard for your country, concern for yourself, or respect for me, to banish these thoughts from your mind, and never communicate, as from yourself or any one else, a sentiment of like nature."

It was perhaps the first time in the history of the world that men had witnessed the like. Soon afterwards, the army was disbanded, and Washington, proceeding to Annapolis, where the Congress was in session, resigned his commission as commander-in-chief. There are some who consider that the greatest scene in history—the hero sheathing his sword "after a life of spotless honor, a purity unreproached, a courage indomitable, and a consummate victory."

A private citizen again, Washington returned quietly to his estate at Mount Vernon. But he could not remain there—the country needed him too badly, and his great work was yet to do. For let us remember that his great work was not the leading of the American army to victory, not the securing of independence, but the establishment of this Republic. More than of any other man was this the work of Washington. He saw the feeble Confederation breaking to pieces, now that the stress of danger was removed; he beheld the warring interests and petty jealousies of statesmen who yet remained colonial; but he was determined that out of these thirteen jarring colonies should come a nation; and when the convention to form a constitution met at Philadelphia, he presided over it, and it was his commanding will which brought a constitution out of a turmoil of selfish interests, through difficulties and past obstacles which would have discouraged any other man.

And, the Constitution once adopted, all men turned to Washington to start the new Nation on her great voyage. Remember, there was no government, only some written pages saying that a government was to be; it was Washington who converted that idea into a reality, who brought that government into existence. It was a venture new to history; a Republic founded upon principles which, however admirable in the abstract, had been declared impossible to embody in the life of a nation. And yet, eight years later, when Washington retired from the presidency, he left behind him an effective government, with an established revenue, a high credit, a strong judiciary, a vigorous foreign policy, and an army which had repressed insurrections, and which already showed the beginnings of a truly national spirit.

At the end of his second term as President, the country demanded that he accept a third; the country, without Washington at the head of it, seemed to many people like a ship on a dangerous sea without a pilot. But he had guided her past the greatest dangers, and he refused a third term, setting a precedent which no man in the country's history has been strong enough to disregard. In March, 1797, he was back again at Mount Vernon, a private citizen.

He looked forward to and hoped for long years of quiet, but it was not to be. On December 12, 1799, he was caught by a rain and sleet storm, while riding over his farm, and returned to the house chilled through. An illness followed, which developed into pneumonia, and three days later he was dead.

He was buried at Mount Vernon, which has become one of the great shrines of America, and rightly so. For no man, at once so august and so lovable, has graced American history. Indeed, he stands among the greatest men of all history. There are few men with such a record of achievement, and fewer still who, at the end of a life so crowded and cast in such troubled places, can show a fame so free from spot, a character so unselfish and so pure.

We know Washington to-day as well as it is possible to know any man. We know him far better than the people of his own household knew him. Behind the silent and reserved man, of courteous and serious manner, which his world knew, we perceive the great nature, the warm heart and the mighty will. We have his letters, his journals, his account-books, and there remains no corner of his life hidden from us. There is none that needs to be. Think what that means—not a single corner of his life that needs to be shadowed or passed over in silence! And the more we study it, the more we are impressed by it, and the greater grows our love and veneration for the man of whom were uttered the immortal words, "First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen"—words whose truth grows more apparent with every passing year.

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It is one of the maxims of history that great events produce great men, and the struggle for independence abundantly proved this. Never again in the country's history did it possess such a group of statesmen as during its first years, the only other period at all comparable with it being that which culminated in the Civil War. It was inevitable that these men should assume the guidance of the newly-launched ship of state, and Washington had, in every way possible, availed himself of their assistance. Alexander Hamilton had been his secretary of the treasury, Thomas Jefferson his secretary of state, and James Monroe his minister to France. The first man to succeed him in the presidency, however, was none of these, but John Adams of Massachusetts. His election was not uncontested, as Washington's had been; in fact, he was elected by a majority of only three, Jefferson receiving 68 electoral votes to his 71.

Let us pause for a moment to see how this contest originated, for it was the beginning of the party government which has endured to the present day, and which is considered by many people to be essential to the administration of the Republic. When Washington was elected there were, strictly speaking, no parties; but there was a body of men who had favored the adoption of the Constitution, and another, scarcely less influential, who had opposed it. The former were called Federals, as favoring a federation of the several states, and the latter were called Anti-Federals, as opposing it.

One point of difference always leads to others, wider and wider apart, as the rain-drop, shattered on the summit of the Great Divide, flows one half to the Atlantic the other half to the Pacific. So, after the adoption of the Constitution, there was never any serious question of abrogating it, but two views arose as to its interpretation. The Federals, in their endeavor to strengthen the national government, favored the liberal view, which was that anything the Constitution did not expressly forbid was permitted; while the Anti-Federals, anxious to preserve all the power possible to the several states, favored the strict view, which was that unless the Constitution expressly permitted a thing, it could not be done. As there were many, many points upon which the Constitution was silent—its framers being mere human beings and not all-wise intelligences—it will be seen that these interpretations were as different as black and white. It was this divergence, combined with another as to whether, in joining the Union, the several states had surrendered their sovereignty, which has persisted as the fundamental difference between the Republican and Democratic parties to the present day.

Adams was a Federalist, and his choice as the candidate of that party was due to the fact that Hamilton, its leader, was too unpopular with the people at large to stand any chance of election, more especially against such a man as Jefferson, who would be his opponent. With Hamilton out of the way, the place plainly belonged to Adams by right of succession, and he was nominated. He was aided by the fact that he had served as Vice-President during both of Washington's administrations, and it was felt that he would be much more likely to carry out the policies of his distinguished predecessor than Jefferson, who had been opposed to Washington on many public questions. Even at that, as has been said, he won by a majority of only three votes.

In a general way Adams did continue Washington's policies, even retaining his cabinet. But, while his attitude on national questions was, in the main, a wise one, he was so unwise and undignified in minor things, so consumed by petty jealousies, envies and contentions, that he made enemies instead of friends, and when, four years later, he was again the Federal candidate, he was easily beaten by Jefferson, and retired from the White House a soured and disappointed man, fleeing from the capital by night in order that he might not have to witness the inauguration of his successor. To such depths had he been brought by colossal egotism. In his earlier years, he had done distinguished service as a member of the Continental Congress, but his prestige never recovered from the effect of his conduct during his term as President, and his last years were passed in retirement. By a singular coincidence, he and Jefferson died upon the same day, July 4, 1826.

Thomas Jefferson, whose influence is perhaps more generally acknowledged in the life of the Republic of to-day than that of any other man of his time, and whose name, Washington's apart, is oftenest on men's lips, was born in Virginia in 1743, graduated from William and Mary College, studied law, and took a prominent part in the agitation preceding the Revolution. Early in his life, owing to various influences, he began forming those ideas of simplicity and equality which had such an influence over his later life, and over the great party of which he was the founder. His temperament was what we call "artistic"; that is, he loved books and music and architecture, and the things which make for what we call culture. And yet, with all that, he soon grew wise and skillful in the world's affairs, possessing an industry and insight which assured his speedy success as a lawyer, despite an impediment of speech which prevented him from being an effective orator.

He had the good fortune to marry happily, finding a comrade and helpmate, as well as a wife, in beautiful Martha Skelton, with whom he rode away to his estate at Monticello when he was twenty-seven. She saw him write the Declaration of Independence, saw him war-governor of Virginia, and second only to Washington in the respect and affection of the people of that great commonwealth; and then she died. The shock of her death left Jefferson a stricken man; he secluded himself from the public, and declared that his life was at an end.

Washington, however, eight years later, persuaded him to accept a place in his cabinet as secretary of state. Within a year he had definitely taken his place as the head of the Anti-Federalist, or Republican party, and laid the foundations of what afterwards became known as the Democratic party. His trust in the people had grown and deepened, his heart had grown more tender with the coming of affliction, and it was his theory that in a democracy, the people should control public policy by imposing their wishes upon their rulers, who were answerable to them—a theory which is now accepted, in appearance, at least, by all political parties, but which the Federalist leaders of that time thoroughly detested. Jefferson seems to have felt, too, that the tendency of those early years was too greatly toward an aristocracy, which the landed gentry of Virginia were only too willing to provide, and when, at last, he was chosen for the presidency, he set the country such an example of simplicity and moderation that there was never again any chance of its running into that danger.

Everyone has read the story of how, on the day of his inauguration, he rode on horseback to the capitol, clad in studiously plain clothes and without attendants, tied his horse to the fence, and walked unannounced into the Senate chamber. This careful avoidance of display marked his whole official career, running sometimes, indeed, into an ostentation of simplicity whose good taste might be questioned. But of Jefferson's entire sincerity there can be no doubt. Inconsistent as he sometimes was—as every man is—his purposes and policies all tended steadily toward the betterment of humanity; and the great mass of the people who to this day revere his memory, "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."

Perhaps the greatest single act of his administration was the purchase from France of the vast territory known as Louisiana, which included the state now bearing that name, and the wide, untrodden, wilderness west of the Mississippi, paying for it the sum of fifteen million dollars—a rate of a fraction of a cent an acre. The purchase aroused the bitterest opposition, but Jefferson seems to have had a clearer vision than most men of what the future of America was to be. He served for two terms, refusing a third nomination which he was besought to accept, and retiring to private life on March 4, 1809, after a nearly continuous public service of forty-four years. The remainder of his life was spent quietly at his home at Monticello, where men flocked for a guidance which never failed them. The cause to which his last years were devoted was characteristic of the man—the establishment of a common school system in Virginia, and the founding of the University of Virginia, which still bears the imprint of his mind.



Jefferson is one of the few men whose portrait, as preserved for us, shows us the man as we imagine him to be. No one can look at that lofty and noble countenance, with its calm and wide-set eyes, its firm yet tender mouth, its expression of complete serenity, without realizing that here was a man placed above the weakness and pettiness and meanness of the world, on a pinnacle of his own, strong in spirit, wise in judgment, and almost prophetic in vision.

The presidency descended, by an overwhelming majority, to one of Jefferson's stanch friends and supporters, for whom he had paved the way—James Madison, also a Virginian, who had been his secretary of state for eight years, and who was himself to serve two terms, during which the influence of the "Sage of Monticello" was paramount. The great crisis which Madison had to face was the second war with England, a war brought on by British aggression on the high seas, and bitterly opposed, especially in New England. The war, characterized by blunders on land and brilliant successes on the ocean, really resulted without victory to either side, and, indeed, was very nearly a defeat for America; but in the end, it enabled us to regain possession of the posts which England had persisted in occupying along the western boundary, and banished forever any fear that she might, at any time in the future, attempt to reassert her sovereignty over the United States.

Madison was also fortunate in his wife, the beautiful and brilliant Dolly Payne Todd, who played so prominent a part in the social life of the time, and who, when the British were marching into Washington to sack that city, managed to save some of the treasures of the White House from the invaders. It is difficult for us to realize, at this distant day, that our beautiful capital was once in the enemy's hands, given over to the flames; that was one of the great disgraces of the War of 1812; for the only force which rallied to the defense of the city was a few regiments of untrained militia, which could not stand for a minute before the British regulars, but ran away at the first fire.

Madison and his wife, however, soon came back to the White House from which they had been driven, and remained there four years longer, until the close of his second term, in 1817. For nearly a score of years thereafter, they lived a happy and tranquil life on their estate, Montpelier.

It is somewhat difficult to estimate Madison. He stood on a sort of middle ground between Jefferson and Hamilton. Earlier in his career, Hamilton influenced him deeply in regard to the adoption of the Constitution, of which he has been called the father. But, at a later date, Jefferson's influence became uppermost, and Madison swung over to the extreme of the state rights view, and drew the resolutions of the Virginia legislature declaring the Alien and Sedition laws "utterly null and void and of no effect," so that he has also been called the "Father of Nullification." However unstable his opinions may have been, there is no questioning his patriotism or the purity of his motives.

Again the presidential tradition was to remain unbroken, for Madison's successor was James Monroe, his secretary of state, a Virginian and a Democrat. The preponderance of the Democratic party was never more in evidence, for while he received 183 electoral votes, Rufus King, the Federalist candidate, received only 34. This, however, was as nothing to the great personal triumph he achieved four years later, when, as a candidate for re-election, only one vote was cast against him, and that by a man who voted as he did because he did not wish to see a second President chosen with the unanimity which had honored Washington.

Monroe is principally remembered to-day from a "doctrine" enunciated by him and known by his name, which remains a vital portion of American policy. It was in 1823 that he declared that the United States would consider any attempt of a European power to establish itself in this hemisphere as dangerous to her peace and safety, and as the manifestation of an unfriendly disposition. The language is cautious and diplomatic, but what it means in plain English is that the United States will resist by force any attempt of a European power to conquer and colonize any portion of the three Americas—in other words, that this country will safeguard the independence of all her neighbors. This principle has come to be regarded as a basic one in the foreign relations of the United States, and while no European power has formally acknowledged it, more than one have had to bow before it. It is interesting to know that the enunciation of such a "doctrine" was recommended by Thomas Jefferson, and that Jefferson was Monroe's constant adviser throughout his career.

Monroe retired from the presidency in 1825, and the seven remaining years of his life were passed principally on his estate in Virginia. Jefferson said of him, "He is a man whose soul might be turned wrong side outwards, without discovering a blemish to the world,"—an estimate which was, of course, colored by a warm personal friendship, but which was echoed by many others of his contemporaries. Certain it is that few men have ever so won the affection and esteem of the nation, and his administration was known as the "era of good feeling." He is scarcely appreciated to-day at his true worth, principally because he does not measure up in genius to the great men who preceded him.

At striking variance with the practical unanimity of Monroe's election was that of John Quincy Adams, his successor. Over a quarter of a century had elapsed since a northern man had been chosen to the presidency. That man, strangely enough, was the father of the present candidate, but had retired from office after one acrimonious term, discredited and disappointed. Since then, the government of the country had been in the hands of Virginians. Now came John Quincy Adams, calling himself a Democrat, but really inheriting the principles of his father, and the contest which ensued for the presidency was unprecedented in the history of the country.

Adams's principal opponent was Andrew Jackson, a mighty man of whom we shall soon have occasion to speak, and so close was the contest that the electoral college was not able to make a choice. So, as provided by the Constitution, it was carried to the House of Representatives, and there, through the influence of Henry Clay, who was unfriendly to Jackson, Adams was chosen by a small majority. An administration which began in bitterness, continued bitter and turbulent. Men's passions were aroused, and four years later Adams repeated the fate of his father, in being overwhelmingly defeated.

But the most remarkable portion of his story is yet to come. Before that time, it had been the custom, as we have seen, for the ex-President to spend the remaining years of his life in dignified retirement; but the year after Adams left the White House, he was elected to the House of Representatives, and was returned regularly every two years until his death, which occurred upon its floor. He did much excellent work there, and was conspicuous in more than one memorable scene, but he is chiefly remembered for his battle for the right of petition. No more persistent fight was ever made by a man in a parliamentary body and some reference must be made to it here.

Soon after he took his seat in Congress, the movement against slavery was begun, and one fruit of it was the appearance of petitions for the abolition of slavery in the House of Representatives. A few were presented by Mr. Adams, and then more and more, as they were sent in to him, and finally the southern representatives became so aroused, that they succeeded in passing what was known as the "gag rule," which prevented the reception of these petitions by the House. Adams protested against this rule as an invasion of his constitutional rights, and from that time forward, amid the bitterest opposition, addressed his whole force toward the vindication of the right of petition. On every petition day, he would offer, in constantly increasing numbers, petitions which came to him from all parts of the country for the abolition of slavery. The southern representatives were driven almost to madness, but Adams kept doggedly on his way, and every year renewed his motion to strike out the gag rule. As constant dripping will wear away a stone, so his persistence wore away opposition, or, rather, the sentiment of the country was gradually changing, and at last, on December 3, 1844, his motion prevailed, and the great battle which he had fought practically alone was won. Four years later he fell, stricken with paralysis, at his place in the House.

It is worth pausing to remark that, of the six men who, up to this time, had held the presidency, four were from Virginia and two from Massachusetts; that, in every instance, the Virginians had been re-elected and had administered the affairs of the country to the satisfaction of the people, while both the Massachusetts men had been retired from office at the end of a single term, and after turbulent and violent administrations. All of them were what may fairly be called patricians, men of birth and breeding; they were the possessors of a certain culture and refinement, were descended from well-known families, and there seemed every reason to believe that the administration of the country would be continued in the hands of such men. For what other class of men was fitted to direct it? Then, suddenly, the people spoke, and selected for their ruler a man from among themselves, a man whose college was the backwoods, whose opinions were prejudices rather than convictions, and yet who was, withal, perhaps the greatest popular idol this country will ever see; whose very blunders endeared him to the people, because they knew his heart was right.

* * * * *

On the fifteenth day of March, 1767, in a little log cabin on the upper Catawba river, almost on the border-line between North and South Carolina—so near it, in fact, that no one knows certainly in which state it stood—a boy was born and christened Andrew Jackson. His father had died a few days before—one of those sturdy Scotch-Irish whom we have seen emigrating to America in such numbers in search of a land of freedom. The boy grew up in the rude backwoods settlement, rough, boisterous, unlettered; at the age of fourteen, riding with Sumter in the guerrilla warfare waged throughout the state against the British, and then, captured and wounded on head and hand by a sabre-stroke whose mark he bore till his dying day, a prisoner in the filthy Camden prison-pen, sick of the small-pox, and coming out of it, at last, more dead than alive.

His mother nursed him back to life, and then started for Charleston to see what could be done for the prisoners rotting in the British prison-ships in the harbor, only herself to catch the prison-fever, and to be buried in a grave which her son was never able to discover.

Young Jackson, sobered by this and other experiences, applied himself with some diligence to his books, taught school for a time, studied law, and at the age of twenty was admitted to the bar, for which the standard was by no means high. To the west, the new state of Tennessee was in process of organization—an unpeopled wilderness for the most part—and early in the year 1788, Jackson secured the appointment as public prosecutor in the new state. It is not probable he had much competition, for the position was one calling for desperate courage, as well as for endurance to withstand the privations of back-woods life, and the pecuniary reward was small. In the fall of 1788, he proceeded to Nashville with a wagon train which came within an ace of being annihilated by Indians before it reached its destination.

Jackson found his new position exactly suited to his peculiar genius. His personal recklessness made him the terror of criminals; he possessed the precise qualifications for success before backwoods juries and for personal popularity among the rough people who were his clients, with whom usually might was right. At the end of three or four years, he practically monopolized the law business of the district; and he soon became by far the most popular man in it, despite a hot-headed disposition which made him many enemies, which involved him in numberless quarrels, and which resulted in his fighting at least one duel, in which he killed his opponent and was himself dangerously wounded.

It was inevitable, of course, that he should enter politics, and equally inevitable that he should be successful there. Eight years after his arrival from Carolina, at the age of twenty-nine, he was elected to represent his state in Congress, and covered the eight hundred miles to Philadelphia on horseback. From the House, he was appointed to serve in the Senate, resigned from it to accept an election as Judge of the Supreme Court of Tennessee, was chosen major-general of the Tennessee militia, and so began that military career which was to have a remarkable culmination.

On the 25th of June, 1812, apprised of the outbreak of the second war with England, Jackson offered to the President his own services and those of the twenty-five hundred militia men of his district. The offer was at once accepted, and Jackson, getting his troops together, proceeded down the river to New Orleans. But jealousies at headquarters intervened, he was informed that New Orleans was in no present danger, his force was disbanded and left to get back home as best it could. Jackson, wild with rage, pledged his own resources to furnish this transportation, but was afterwards reimbursed by the government.

It was while he was getting his men back home again that Jackson received the nickname of "Old Hickory," which clung to him all the rest of his life, and which was really a good description of him. The story also illustrates how it was that his men came to idolize him, and why it was that he appealed so strongly to the common people. Jackson had three good horses, on that weary journey, but instead of riding one of them himself, he loaned all three to sick men who were unable to walk, and himself trudged along at the head of his men.

"The general is tough, isn't he?" one of them remarked, glancing at the tall, sturdy figure.

"Tough!" echoed another. "I should say he is—as tough as hickory!"

Jackson was lying in bed with a bullet in his shoulder, which he had received in an affray with Jesse Benton, and also, no doubt, nursing his chagrin over his treatment by the War Department, when news came of a great Indian uprising in Alabama. The Creeks had gone on the warpath and had opened proceedings by capturing Fort Mims, at the junction of the Alabama and Tombigbee rivers, on August 30, 1813, and massacring over five hundred people who had taken refuge there. Alabama was almost abandoned by the whites, and Georgia and Tennessee at once rushed to her relief by voting men and money to put down the Indians.

Jackson forgot wound and chagrin and took the field as soon as he was able to stir. He at once quarrelled with the other officers; but his men believed in him, though lack of food and the expiring of the short term of enlistment created so much insubordination that, on one occasion, he had to use half his army to prevent the other half from marching home. His energy was remarkable; he pushed forward into the Creek country, cut the Indians to pieces at Horseshoe Bend, and drove the survivors into Florida. At the end of seven months, the war was over, and the Creeks had been so punished that there was never any further need to fear them.

The campaign had another result—it established Jackson's reputation as a fighter, and soon afterwards he was appointed a major-general in the army of the United States, and was given command of the Department of the South. The pendulum had swung the other way, with a vengeance! But Jackson rose magnificently to this increased responsibility. He discovered that the English were in force at Pensacola, which was in Florida and therefore on Spanish territory; but he did not hesitate. He marched against the place with an army of three thousand, stormed the town, captured it, blew up the forts, which the Spaniards hastily surrendered, and so made it untenable as an English base. Perhaps no other exploit of his career was so audacious, or so well carried out. Pensacola subdued, he hastened to New Orleans, which was in the gravest danger.

The overthrow of Napoleon and his banishment to Elba had given England a breathing-space, and the veteran troops which had been with Wellington in Spain were left free for use against the Americans. A great expedition was at once organized to attack and capture New Orleans, and at its head was placed General Pakenham, the brilliant commander of the column which had delivered the fatal blow at Salamanca. A fleet of fifty vessels, manned by the best sailors of England, was got ready, ten thousand men put aboard, and in December, a week after Jackson's arrival at New Orleans, this great fleet anchored off the broad lagoons of the Mississippi delta. Seventeen thousand men, in all, counting the sailors, who could, of course, be employed in land operations; and a mighty equipment of artillery, for which the guns of the fleet could also be used. The few American gunboats were overpowered, and Pakenham proceeded leisurely to land his force for the advance against the city, which it seemed that nothing could save. On December 23d, his advance-guard of two thousand men was but ten miles below New Orleans.

On the afternoon of that very day, the vanguard of Jackson's Tennesseans marched into New Orleans, clad in hunting-shirts of buckskin or homespun, wearing coonskin caps, and carrying on their shoulders the long rifles they knew how to use so well. They had made one of the most remarkable marches in history, in their eagerness to meet the enemy, and Jackson at once hurried them forward for a night attack. It was delivered with the greatest fury, and the British were so roughly handled that they were forced to halt until the main body of the army came up.

When they did advance, they found that Jackson had made good use of the delay. With the first light of the dawn which followed the battle, he had commenced throwing up a rude breastwork, one end resting on the river, the other on a swamp, and by nightfall, it was nearly done. Mud and logs had been used, and bales of cotton, until it formed a fairly strong position. The British were hurrying forward reinforcements, and little did either side suspect that on that very day, at Ghent, thousands of miles away, a treaty of peace had been signed between the United States and England, and that the blood they were about to spill would be spilled uselessly.

In a day or two, the British had got up their artillery, and tried to batter down the breastworks, but without success; then, Pakenham, forgetting Bunker Hill, determined to try a frontal assault. He had no doubt of victory, for he had three times as many men as Jackson; troops, too, seasoned by victories won over the most renowned marshals of Napoleon. At Toulouse they had driven Marshal Soult from a position infinitely stronger than this rude breastworks; time after time they had charged and carried fortifications, manned by the best soldiers in Europe. What chance, then, had this little force of backwoodsmen, commanded by an ignorant and untrained general? So Pakenham ordered that the assault should take place on the morning of January 8th.

From the bustle and stir in the British camp, the Americans knew that something unusual was afoot, and long before dawn, the riflemen were awake, had their breakfast, and then took their places behind the mud walls, their rifles ready. At last the sun rose, the fog lifted, and disclosed the splendid and gleaming lines of the British infantry, ready for the advance. As soon as the air was clear, Pakenham gave the word, and the columns moved steadily forward. From the American breastworks not a rifle cracked. Half the distance was covered, three-fourths; and then, as one man, those sturdy riflemen rose and fired, line upon line. Under that terrible fire, the British column broke and paused, then surged forward again, almost to the foot of the breastworks. But not a man lived to mount them. No column could stand under such a fire, and the British broke and ran.

Mad with rage, Pakenham rallied his men and placed himself at their head. Again came the word to charge, and again that gleaming column rushed forward, only to be again met by that deadly hail of lead. Pakenham, mortally wounded, reeled and fell from his saddle, officer after officer was picked off by those unequalled marksmen, the field was covered with dead and dying. Even the British saw, at last, the folly of the movement, and retired sullenly to their lines. For a week they lay there; then, abandoning their heavy artillery, they marched back to their ships and sailed for England. The men who had conquered the conquerors of Europe had themselves met defeat.

The battle had lasted less than half an hour, but the British left behind them no less than twenty-six hundred men—seven hundred killed, fourteen hundred wounded, five hundred prisoners. The American loss was eight killed and thirteen wounded.

News of this brilliant victory brought sudden joy to a depressed people, for elsewhere on land the war had been waged disgracefully enough, and Jackson's name was on everyone's lips. His journey to Washington was a kind of triumphal march, and his popularity grew by leaps and bounds. People journeyed scores of miles to see him, for there was a strange fascination about the rugged old fighter which few could resist, and already his friends were urging him as a candidate for the presidency. There could be no doubt that he was the people's choice, and at last, in the campaign of 1823, he was formally placed in nomination, his chief opponent being John Quincy Adams, of Massachusetts. The result of that contest has already been told. Jackson received more electoral votes than any other candidate, but not enough to elect, and the contest was decided by the House of Representatives. On that occasion, Henry Clay came nearer committing political suicide than ever again in his life, for he threw his influence against Jackson, and lost a portion of his popularity which he never recovered.

Jackson bided his time, and spent the four years following in careful preparation for the next contest. So well did he build his fences that, when the electoral vote was cast, he received the overwhelming majority of 178 votes to 83 for Adams.

Never before had the city of Washington seen such an inauguration as took place on the fourth of March following. It seemed as though the whole population of the country had assembled there to see the old fighter take the oath of office. Daniel Webster wrote of it, "I never saw such a crowd here before. Persons came five hundred miles to see General Jackson and really seem to think that our country is rescued from some dreadful danger." As, perhaps, it was.

Jackson began his administration with characteristic vigor. It was he who first put into practice the principle, "To the victors belong the spoils." There was about him no academic courtesy, and he proceeded at once to displace many Federal officeholders and to replace them with his own adherents. The Senate tried for a time to stem the tide, but was forced to give it up. There was no withstanding that fierce and dominant personality. Jackson was more nearly a dictator than any President had ever been before him, or than any will ever be again. His great popularity seemed rather to increase than to diminish, and in 1832, he received no less than 219 electoral votes.



Let us do him justice. Prejudiced and ignorant and wrong-headed as he was, he was a pure patriot, laboring for his country's good. Nothing proves this more strongly than his attitude on the nullification question, in other words, the right of a state to refuse to obey a law of the United States, and to withdraw from the Union, should it so desire. This is not the place to go into the constitutional argument on this question. It is, of course, all but certain that the original thirteen states had no idea, when they ratified the Constitution, that they were entering an alliance from which they would forever be powerless to withdraw; and the right of withdrawal had been asserted in New England more than once. South Carolina was the hot-bed of nullification sentiment, arising partly from the growing anti-slavery feeling at the North, and partly because of the enactment of a tariff law which was felt to be unjust, and on October 25, 1832, the South Carolina legislature passed an ordinance asserting that, since the state had entered the Union of its free will, it could withdraw from it at any time and resume the sovereign and independent position which it had held at the close of the Revolution, and that it would do so should there be any attempt to enforce the tariff laws within the state.

Jackson's attitude on this question was already well known. At a banquet celebrating Jefferson's birthday, two years before, at which Calhoun and others had given toasts and made addresses in favor of nullification, Jackson had startled his audience by rising, glass in hand, and giving the toast, "Our Federal Union—it must be preserved!" That toast had fallen like a bombshell among the ranks of the nullifiers, and had electrified the whole Nation. Since then, he had become a stronger nationalist than ever; besides, he was always ready for a fight, and whenever he saw a head had the true Irishman's impulse to hit it. So he responded to the South Carolina nullification ordinance by sending two men-of-war to Charleston harbor and collecting a force of United States troops along the Carolina border. "I consider the power to annul a law of the United States, assumed by one state, incompatible with the existence of the Union," he wrote; and when a South Carolina congressman, about to go home, asked the President if he had any commands for his friends in that state, Jackson retorted:

"Yes, I have; please give my compliments to my friends in your state, and say to them that if a single drop of blood shall be shed there in opposition to the laws of the United States, I will hang the first man I can lay my hands on, engaged in such treasonable conduct, upon the first tree I can reach."

Whether or not this message was delivered history does not say, but the whole Nation arose in wrath behind its President, state after state denounced nullification and disunion, and the South Carolina ordinance was finally repealed. So the storm passed for the moment. It left Jackson more of a popular hero than ever; it was as though he had won another battle of New Orleans. One cannot but wonder what would have happened had he been acting as President, instead of Buchanan, in those trying years after 1856.

He retired from the presidency broken in health and fortune, for however well he took care of the interests of his friends, he was always careless about his own. The last eight years of his life were spent at his Tennessee estate, The Hermitage. The end came in 1845, but his name has remained as a kind of watchword among the common people—a synonym for rugged honesty, and bluff sincerity. His career is, all in all, by far the most remarkable of any man who ever held the high office of President—with one possible exception, that of Abraham Lincoln.

* * * * *

Jackson was one of the most perfect political manipulators and machine-builders this country ever saw, and he had so perfected his machine at the close of his second term that he was able to name as his successor and the heir of his policies, Martin Van Buren, of New York, a man who had been one of Jackson's most valued lieutenants from the first, an astute politician, but not remarkable in any way, nor able to impress himself upon the country. He announced at his inauguration that it was his intention, to tread in the footsteps of his "illustrious predecessor," but none for a moment imagined that he was big enough to fill Jackson's shoes. Indeed, Jackson, was by far the most important figure at the inauguration.

Van Buren's term as President witnessed nothing more momentous than the great panic of 1837, which he faced with a calmness and clear-sightedness surprising even to his friends, but which nevertheless assisted a collection of malcontents, under the leadership of Henry Clay, calling themselves National Republicans or Whigs, to defeat him for re-election. There was really no valid reason why he should have been re-elected; he had little claim, upon the country, but was for the most part, merely a clever politician, the first to attain the presidency. His life had been marked by an orderly advance from local to state, and then to national offices—an advance obtained not because he stood for any great principle, but because he knew how to make friends and build his political fences.

His nomination and election to the presidency was in no sense an accident, as was Taylor's, Pierce's, Hayes's and Garfield's, but was carefully prearranged and thoroughly understood. Yet let us do him the justice to add that his public services were, in some respects, of a high order, and that he was not wholly unworthy of the last great honor paid him. He was a candidate for the nomination in 1844, but was defeated by James K. Polk; and four years later, secured the nomination, but was defeated at the polls by Zachary Taylor. That ended his political career.

In the campaign against him of 1840, the Whigs were fortunate in having for their candidate William Henry Harrison, a man of immense personal popularity, resembling Jackson in that his reputation had been made as an Indian fighter in the West, where he had defeated Tecumseh at the battle of Tippecanoe, and by a successful campaign in the war of 1812. Since then, he had been living quietly on his farm in Ohio, with no expectation of anything but passing his remaining years in quiet, for he was nearly seventy years of age. But Clay, with a sort of prophetic insight, picked him out as the Whig leader, and "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too" became the rallying cry of a remarkable campaign, which swept the country from end to end and effectually swamped Van Buren. It was too strenuous for a man as old as Harrison, and he died at the White House within a month of taking the oath of office.

The "Tyler Too" was John Tyler, who had been elected Vice-President, and who assumed the office of President upon Harrison's death. His accession was little less than a bomb-shell to the party which had nominated him and secured his election. For he was a Virginian, a follower of Calhoun and an ardent pro-slavery man, while the Whigs were first, last and all the time anti-slavery. He had been placed on the ticket with Harrison, who was strongly anti-slavery, in the hope of securing the votes of some disaffected Democrats, but to see him President was the last thing the Whigs desired. The result was that he soon became involved in a bitter quarrel with Clay and the other leaders of the party, which effectually; killed any chance of renomination he may have had. He became the mark for perhaps the most unrestrained abuse ever aimed at a holder of the presidency.

It was largely unmerited, for Tyler was a capable man, had seen service in Congress and as governor of his state; but he was dry and uninspiring, and not big enough for the presidency, into which he could never have come except by accident. His administration was marked by few important events except the annexation of Texas, which will be dealt with more particularly when we come to consider the lives of Sam Houston and the other men who brought the annexation about. He retired to private life at the close of his term, appearing briefly twenty years later as a member of a "congress" which endeavored to prevent the war between the states, and afterwards as a member of the Confederate Congress, in which he served until his death.

Clay secured the Whig nomination for himself, in the campaign of 1844, and his opponent on the Democratic ticket was James Knox Polk, a native of North Carolina, but afterwards removing to Tennessee. He had been a member of Congress for fourteen years, and governor of Tennessee for three, and was a consistent exponent of Democratic principles. Two great questions were before the country: the annexation of Texas and the right to Oregon. Polk was for the immediate annexation of Texas and for the acquisition of Oregon up to 54 deg. 40" north latitude, regardless of Great Britain's claims, and "Fifty-four forty or fight!" became one of the battle-cries of the campaign. Clay, inveterate trimmer and compromiser that he was, professed to be for the annexation of Texas, provided it could be accomplished without war with Mexico, which was arrant nonsense, since Mexico had given notice that she would consider annexation an act of war. The result of Clay's attitude, and of a widespread distrust of his policies, was that Polk was elected by a large majority.

His administration was destined to be a brilliant one, for Texas was at once annexed, and the brief war with Mexico which followed, one of the most successful ever waged by any country, carried the southwestern boundary of the United States to the Rio Grande, and added New Mexico and California to the national domain, while a treaty with England secured for the country the present great state of Oregon, although here Polk receded from his position and accepted a compromise which confined Oregon below the forty-ninth parallel. But even this was something of a triumph. With that triumph, the name of Marcus Whitman is most closely associated, through a brilliant but rather useless feat of his, of which we shall speak later on. Polk seems to have been an able and conscientious man, without any pretensions to genius—just a good, average man, like any one of ten thousand other Americans. He refused a renomination because of ill-health, and died soon after retiring from office.

The Democratic party had by this time become hopelessly disrupted over the slavery question, which had become more and more acute. The great strength of the state rights party had always been in the South, and southern statesmen had always opposed any aggression on the part of the national government. The North, on the other hand, had always leaned more or less toward a strong centralization of power. So it followed that while the Democratic party was paramount in the South, its opponents, by whatever name known, found their main strength in the North.

Yet, even in the North, there was a strong Democratic element, and, but for the intrusion of the slavery question, the party would have controlled the government for many years to come. But the North was gradually coming to feel that the slavery question was more important than the more abstract one of national aggression; the more so since, by insisting upon the enforcement of such measures as the Fugitive Slave Law, the South was, as it were, keeping open and bleeding a wound which might to some extent have healed. In 1848 the split came, and the Democratic party put two candidates in the field, Lewis Cass for the South, and Martin Van Buren for the North.

The Whig Party, taking advantage of the knowledge gained in previous campaigns, looked around for a famous general, and managed to agree upon Zachary Taylor, who had made an exceedingly brilliant record in the war with Mexico. He was sixty-five years old at the time, a sturdy giant of a man, reared on the frontier, hardened by years of Indian warfare, whose nickname of "Old Rough and Ready" was not a bad description. He caught the popular fancy, for he possessed those qualities which appeal to the plain people, and this, assisted by the division in the ranks of his opponents, won him a majority of the electoral votes. He took the oath of office on March 4, 1849, but, after sixteen months of troubled administration, died suddenly on July 9, 1850.

Millard Fillmore, who had been elected Vice-President, at once took the oath of office as chief executive. He was a New York man, a lawyer, had been a member of Congress, and, as Vice-President, had presided over the bitter slavery debates in the Senate. His sympathies were supposed to be anti-slavery, yet he signed the Fugitive Slave Law, when it was placed before him, much to the chagrin of many people who had voted for him. He signed his own political death-warrant at the same time, for, at the Whig National Convention in 1852, he was defeated for the nomination for President, after a long struggle, by General Winfield Scott, another veteran of the Mexican war. Four years later, Fillmore, having managed to regain, the confidence of his party, secured the Whig nomination unanimously, but was defeated at the polls, and spent the remaining years of his life quietly at his home in Buffalo.

Against General Scott, the Democrats nominated Franklin Scott Pierce, the nomination being in the nature of an accident, though Pierce was in every way a worthy candidate. His family record begins with his father, Benjamin Pierce, who, as a lad of seventeen, stirred by the tidings of the fight at Lexington, left his home in Chelmsford, musket on shoulder, to join the patriot army before Boston. He settled in New Hampshire after the Revolution, and his son Franklin was born there in 1804. He followed the usual course of lawyer, congressman and senator, and served throughout the war with Mexico, rising to the rank of brigadier-general, and securing a reputation second only to that of Scott and Taylor.

At the Democratic convention of 1852, Pierce was not a candidate for the nomination, and did not know that any one intended to mention his name, or even thought of him in that connection. But the convention was unable to agree on a candidate, and on the fourth day and thirty-third ballot, some delegate cast his vote for General Franklin Pierce, of New Hampshire. The name attracted attention, Pierce's career had been distinguished and above reproach, other delegates voted for him, until, on the forty-ninth ballot, he was declared the unanimous choice of the convention. His election was overwhelming, as he carried twenty-seven states out of thirty-one.

Once in the presidential chair, however, this popularity gradually slipped away from him. He found himself in an impossible position, between two fires, for the slavery question was dividing the country more and more and there seemed no possible way to reconcile the warring sections. Pierce, perhaps, made the mistake of trying to placate both, instead of taking his stand firmly with one or the other; and the consequence was that at the convention of 1856, he received a few votes from courtesy, but was never seriously in the running, which resulted in the nomination of James Buchanan. Pierce returned to his home in New Hampshire, to find his friends and neighbors estranged from him by his supposed pro-slavery views, which had yet not been radical enough to win him the friendship of the South; but time changed all that, and his last years were spent in honored and opulent retirement.

James Buchanan was, like Andrew Jackson, of Scotch-Irish descent, but there the resemblance between the two ended, for Buchanan had little of Jackson's tremendous positiveness and strength of character. His disposition was always to compromise, while Jackson's was to fight. Now compromise is often a very admirable thing, but where it shows itself to be impossible and leaves fighting the only resource, the wise man puts all thought of it behind him and prepares for battle. Which is precisely what Buchanan did not do. He had been a lawyer and congressman, minister to Russia, senator, secretary of state and minister to England, and so had the widest possible political acquaintanceship; he was a man of somewhat unusual culture; but, alas! he found that something more than culture was needed to guide him in the troublous times amid which he fell. I have often thought that Buchanan's greatest handicap was his wide friendship, which often made it almost impossible to say no, however much he may have wished to do so. An unknown backwoodsman, like Andrew Jackson, with no favors to return and no friendships to be remembered, could have acted far more effectively.

Buchanan's opponent for the presidency was John C. Fremont, and there was a great stir and bustle among the people who were supposed to support him, but Buchanan won easily, and at once found himself in the midst of the most perplexing difficulties. Kansas was in a state of civil war; two days after his inauguration the Supreme Court handed down the famous Dred Scott decision, declaring the right of any slave-holder to take his slaves as property into any territory; while the young Republican party was siding openly with the abolitionists, and, a very firebrand in a powder-house, in 1859, John Brown seized Harper's Ferry, Virginia, and attempted to start a slave insurrection. Now a slave insurrection was the one thing which the South feared more than any other—it was the terror which was ever present. And so John Brown's mad attempt excited a degree of hysteria almost unbelievable.

Small wonder that Buchanan was soon at his wits' ends. His sympathies were with the slave-holders; he doubted his right to coerce a seceding state; his friendships were largely with southern statesmen—and yet, to his credit be it stated, on January 8, 1860, after secession had become a thing assured, he seems suddenly to have seen his duty clearly, and in a special message, declared his intention to collect the revenues and protect public property in all the states, and to use force if necessary. Taken all in all, his attitude in those trying days was a creditable one—as creditable as could be expected from any average man. What the time needed was a genius, and fortunately one rose to the occasion. Buchanan, harried and despondent, must have breathed a deep sigh of relief when he surrendered the helm to the man who had been chosen to succeed him—the man, by some extraordinary chance, in all the land best fitted to steer the ship of state to safety—the man who was to be the dominant figure of the century in American history.



SUMMARY

WASHINGTON, GEORGE. Born in Westmoreland County, Virginia, February 22 (old style, February 11), 1732; sent on a mission to the French beyond the Alleghenies, 1753-54; appointed lieutenant-colonel, 1754; defeated by the French at Fort Necessity, July 3, 1754; aide-de-camp to Braddock, 1755; commanded on the frontier, 1755-57; led the advance-guard for the reduction of Fort Duquesne, 1758; married Martha Custis, January 9, 1759; delegate to Continental Congress, 1774-75; appointed commander-in-chief of the continental forces, June 15, 1775; assumed command of the army, July 3, 1775; compelled evacuation of Boston, March 17, 1776; defeated at battle of Long Island, August 27, 1776; defeated at White Plains, October 28, 1776; surprised the British at Trenton, December 26, 1776; won the battle of Princeton, January, 1777; defeated at Brandywine and Germantown in 1777; at Valley Forge, during the winter of 1777-78; won the battle of Monmouth, June 28, 1778; captured Yorktown and the army of Cornwallis, October 19, 1781; resigned his commission as commander-in-chief, December 23, 1783; president of the Constitutional Convention, 1787; unanimously elected President of the United States, January, 1789; inaugurated at New York, April 30, 1789; unanimously re-elected, 1793; issued farewell address to the people, September, 1796; retired to Mount Vernon, March, 1797; died there, December 14, 1799.

ADAMS, JOHN. Born at Braintree, now Quincy, Massachusetts, October 30, 1735; graduated at Harvard, 1755; studied law, took a leading part in opposing Stamp Act, was counsel for the British soldiers charged with murder in connection with the "Boston massacre" in 1770, and became a leader of the patriot party; member of Revolutionary Congress of Massachusetts, 1774; delegate to first and second Continental Congress, 1774-75; commissioner to France, 1777; negotiated treaties with the Netherlands, Great Britain and Prussia, 1782-83; minister to London, 1785-88; Federal Vice-President, 1789-97; President, 1797-1801; defeated for re-election and retired to Quincy, 1801; died there, July 4, 1886.

JEFFERSON, THOMAS. Born at Shadwell, Albemarle County, Virginia, April 2, 1743; member of the Virginia House of Burgesses, 1769-75, and 1776-78, and of the Continental Congress, 1775-76; drafted Declaration of Independence, 1776; governor of Virginia, 1779-81; member of Congress, 1783-84; minister to France, 1784-89; secretary of state, 1789-93; Vice-President, 1797-1801; President, 1801-09; died at Monticello, Albemarle County, Virginia, July 4, 1826.

MADISON, JAMES. Born at Port Conway, Virginia, March 16, 1751; graduated at Princeton, 1771; delegate to Congress, 1780-83, and to the Constitutional Convention, 1787; member of Congress, 1789-97; secretary of state, 1801-09; President, 1809-1817; died at Montpelier, Orange County, Virginia, June 28, 1836.

MONROE, JAMES. Born in Westmoreland County, Virginia, April 28, 1758; member of Virginia assembly, 1782; member of Congress, 1783-86; United States senator, 1790-94; minister to France, 1794-96; governor of Virginia, 1799-1802; minister to Great Britain, 1803-07; secretary of state, 1811-17; President, 1817-25, an administration, known as "the era of good feeling"; died at New York City, July 4, 1831.

ADAMS, JOHN QUINCY. Born at Braintree, Massachusetts, July 11, 1767; graduated at Harvard, 1788; admitted to the bar, 1791; minister to the Netherlands, 1794-97; and to Prussia, 1797-1801; United States senator, 1803-08; minister to Russia, 1809-14; minister to England, 1815-17; secretary of state, 1817-25; President, 1825-29; member of Congress, 1831-48; died at Washington, February 23, 1848.

JACKSON, ANDREW. Born at the Waxham settlement, North Carolina (?), March 15, 1767; member of Congress, 1796-97; United States senator, 1797-98; justice of the Supreme Court of Tennessee, 1798-1804; defeated the Creeks at Talladega, 1813, and at Horseshoe Bend, 1814; captured Pensacola from the English, 1814; won the battle of New Orleans, January 8, 1815; commanded against the Seminoles, 1817-18; governor of Florida, 1821; United States senator, 1823-25; defeated for President by J.Q. Adams, 1824; President, 1829-37; died at the Hermitage, near Nashville, Tennessee, June 8, 1845.

VAN BUREN, MARTIN. Born at Kinderhook, New York, December 5, 1782; admitted to the bar, 1803; entered New York State Senate, 1812; United States senator, 1821-28; governor of New York, 1828-29; secretary of state, 1829-31; Vice-President, 1833-37; President, 1837-41; defeated for President, 1840, 1844, 1848; died at Kinderhook, July 24, 1862.

HARRISON, WILLIAM HENRY. Born at Berkeley, Charles City County, Virginia, February 9, 1773; governor of Indiana Territory, 1801-13; won victory of Tippecanoe, 1811, and of the Thames, 1813; member of Congress, 1816-19; United States senator, 1825-28; minister to Colombia, 1828-29; defeated for Presidency, 1836; elected President in the "log-cabin and hard-cider" campaign, 1840; inaugurated, March 4, 1841; died at Washington, April 4, 1841.

TYLER, JOHN. Born at Greenway, Charles City County, Virginia, March 29, 1790; admitted to the bar, 1809; member of Virginia legislature, 1811-16; member of Congress, 1816-21; governor of Virginia, 1825-27; United States senator, 1827-36; elected Vice-President, 1840, and succeeded to Presidency on the death of General Harrison, April 4, 1841; president of the peace convention of 1861, favored secession and served as member of the Confederate provisional Congress; died at Richmond, Virginia, January 18, 1862.

POLK, JAMES KNOX. Born in Mecklenburg County, North Carolina, November 2, 1795; admitted to the bar, 1820; member of Congress, 1825-39; speaker of the House of Representatives, 1835-39; governor of Tennessee, 1839-41; President, 1845-49; died at Nashville, Tennessee, June 15, 1849.

TAYLOR, ZACHARY. Born in Orange County, Virginia, September 24, 1784; entered the army as first lieutenant, 1808; served in War of 1812, attaining rank of major; served in Black Hawk's war, 1832, with rank of colonel; defeated Seminole Indians, 1837; commander-in-chief of Florida, 1838; took command of the army in Texas, 1845; won battle of Palo Alto, May 8, 1846, and that of Reseca de la Palma, May 9, 1846; captured Matamoras, May 18, and Monterey, September 24, 1846; defeated Santa Anna at Buena Vista, February 22-23, 1847; appointed major-general, June 29, 1846; elected President, 1848; inaugurated, March 4, 1849; died at Washington, July 9, 1850.

FILLMORE, MILLARD. Born at Summer Hill, Cayuga County, New York, January 7, 1800; admitted to the bar, 1823; member of New York State legislature, 1829-31; member of Congress, 1833-35, 1837-43; elected Vice-President, 1848, and succeeded to presidency on the death of Taylor, July 9, 1850; died at Buffalo, New York, March 8, 1874.

PIERCE, FRANKLIN. Born at Hillsborough, New Hampshire, November 23, 1804; member of Congress, 1833-37; United States senator, 1837-42; served with distinction in Mexican war; President, 1853-57; died at Concord, New Hampshire, October 8, 1869.

BUCHANAN, JAMES. Born at Stony Batter, Franklin County, Pennsylvania, April 22, 1791; member of Congress, 1821-31; minister to Russia, 1831-33; United States senator, 1833-45; secretary of state, 1845-49; minister to Great Britain, 1853-56; President, 1857-61; died at Wheatland, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, June 1, 1868.

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CHAPTER IV

LINCOLN AND HIS SUCCESSORS

And so we have come down through the years to Abraham Lincoln—that patient and gentle man whose memory ranks with Washington's as America's priceless heritage. A blessing and an inspiration—a mystery, too; an enigma among men, lonely and impressive; not fully understood nor understandable to the depths of that great heart of his; not fully explainable, for what strange power was it lifted that ignorant, ill-bred, uncouth, backwoods boy to a station among the stars?

Seldom has any man who started so low mounted so high. Abraham Lincoln's early life was of the most miserable description. His father, Thomas Lincoln, was a worthless rover; his mother, Nancy Hanks, was of a "poor white" Virginia family with an unenviable record. His birthplace was a squalid log cabin in Washington County, Kentucky. His surroundings were such as are commonly encountered in a coarse, low, ignorant, poverty-stricken family. His father was at the very bottom of the social scale, so ignorant he could scarcely write his name. His mother inherited the shiftlessness and carelessness which is part and parcel of "poor white." These things are incontestable, they must be looked in the face. And yet, in spite of them, in spite of such a handicap as few other great men even approximated, Abraham Lincoln emerged to be the leader of a race.

In 1816, Thomas Lincoln decided he would remove to Indiana. Abraham was at that time seven years old, and for a year after the removal, the family lived in what was called a "half-faced camp," fourteen feet square—that is to say, a covered shed of three sides, the fourth side being open to the weather. Then the family achieved the luxury of a cabin, but a cabin without floor or door or window. Amid this wretchedness, Lincoln's mother died, and was laid away in a rough coffin of slabs at the edge of the little clearing. Three months later, a passing preacher read the funeral service above the grave.

Thomas Lincoln soon married again and, strangely enough, made a wise choice, for his new wife not only possessed furniture enough to fill a four-horse wagon, but, what was of more importance, was endowed with a thrifty and industrious temperament. That she should have consented to marry the ne'er-do-well is a mystery; perhaps he was not without his redeeming virtues, after all. She made him put a floor and windows in his cabin, and she was a better mother to his children than their real one had ever been. For the first time, young Abraham got some idea of the comforts and decencies of life, and, as his step-mother put it, "began to look a little human." He was not an attractive object, even at best, for he was lanky and clumsy, with great hands and feet, and a skin prematurely wrinkled and shrivelled. By the time he was seventeen, he was six feet tall, and he soon added two more inches to his stature. Needless to say, his clothes never caught up with him, but were always too small.

His schooling was of the most meagre description; in fact, in his whole life, he went to school less than one year. Yet there soon awakened within the boy a trace of unusual spirit. He actually liked to read. He saw few books, but such as he could lay his hands on, he read over and over. That one fact alone set him apart at once from the other boys of his class. To them reading was an irksome labor.

All this reading had its effect. He acquired a vocabulary. That is to say, instead of the few hundred words which were all the other boys knew by which to express their thoughts, he soon had twice as many; besides that, he soon got a reputation as a wit and story-teller, and his command of words made him fond of speechmaking. He resembled most boys in liking to "show off." He had learned, too, that there were comforts in the world which he need never look for in his father's house, and so, as soon as he was of age, he left that unattractive dwelling-place and struck out for himself, making a livelihood in various ways—by splitting rails, running a river boat, managing a store, enlisting for the Black Hawk war—doing anything, in a word, that came to hand and would serve to put a little money in his pocket. He came to know a great many people and so, in 1832, he proclaimed himself a candidate for the state legislature for Sangamon County, Illinois, where he had made his home for some years. No doubt to most people, his candidacy must have seemed in the nature of a joke, and though he stumped the county thoroughly and entertained the crowds with his stories and flashes of wit, he was defeated at the polls.