The victory was won! The "New Roof" was up and finished, supported by eleven stout pillars!

On the glorious "Fourth" in 1788, there was great rejoicing throughout the land. Bonfires, stump speeches, fireworks, processions, music, gorgeous banners, and barbecues of oxen expressed the joy of the people over the establishment of a federal government.

"Hurrah for the United States of America!" shouted every patriot.

{155} "The good ship Constitution" was at last fairly launched.

The wheels of the new government began to turn slowly and with much friction. It was not until the first week of April, 1789, that the House of Representatives and the Senate met and counted the electoral votes for a President of the newly born nation. There were sixty-nine votes in all, and of these every one was for George Washington. John Adams was the second choice of the electoral college. He received thirty-four votes, and was accordingly declared Vice President.

Thus was formed and adopted our just and wise Constitution, which, except for a few amendments, has ever since been the supreme law of the land. This document has been called by Gladstone "the greatest work ever struck off at any time by the mind and purpose of man." To it we owe our prosperity and our high place among nations.

{156}

CHAPTER XI A DARING EXPLOIT

About a century ago, pirates on the northern coast of Africa were causing a great deal of trouble. They used to dash out in their vessels, and capture and plunder the merchant ships of all nations. The poor sailors were sold as slaves, and then kicked and cuffed about by cruel masters.



You will hardly believe it, but our country used to do exactly what other nations did. We used to buy the good will of these Barbary pirates, by giving them, every year, cannon, powder, and great sums of money. In fact we could not at first help it; for we were then a young and feeble nation with many troubles, and our navy was so small that we could not do as we pleased.

The payment of this blackmail soon became a serious affair. The ruler, or pasha, of Tripoli was bold enough to declare war against this country, and cut down the flagstaff in front of our consul's house. Two other Barbary states, Morocco and Tunis, began to be impudent because they did not get enough money.

This was more than our people could stand. These scamps needed a lesson.

{157} You will, of course, remember Thomas Jefferson, who wrote the Declaration of Independence. He was at this time President of the United States. As you may well think, he was not the man to put up with such insults.



"It reminds me," said Jefferson, "of what my good friend, Ben Franklin, once said in his Poor Richard's Almanac: 'If you make yourself a sheep, the wolves will eat you.' We must put a stop to paying this blood money, and deal with these pirates with an iron hand."

So it came to pass that Commodore Dale was sent to the Mediterranean, with a small fleet of war ships.

When our little fleet arrived off the Barbary coast, Morocco and Tunis stopped grumbling and soon came to terms. We were then free to deal with Tripoli.

Our war ships had orders simply to look after our merchantmen, without doing any fighting. Still, to give the proud ruler of Tripoli a hint of what he might soon expect, one of our small vessels, the Enterprise, afterwards {158} commanded by Decatur, fought a short but furious battle with a Tripolitan man-of-war.

The pirate captain hauled his flag down three times, but hoisted it again when the fire of the Enterprise ceased. This insult was too much for Dale. Bringing his vessel alongside the pirate craft, he sprang over her side, followed by fifty of his men. The pirate crew, with their long curved swords, fought hard; yet in fifteen minutes they were beaten.



Our sailors now cut away the masts of the enemy's vessel, and, stripping her of everything except one old sail and a single spar, let her drift back to Tripoli, as a hint of how the new nation across the Atlantic was likely to deal with pirates.

"Tell your pasha," shouted the American captain, as the Barbary ship drifted away, "that this is the way my country will pay him tribute after this."

In the year 1803, the command of our fleet was given to Commodore Preble, who had just forced the ruler of Morocco to pay for an attack upon one of our merchant ships. The famous frigate Constitution, better known to every wide-awake American boy and girl as "Old Ironsides," was his flagship.

Among his officers, or "schoolboy captains," as he called them, were many bright young men, who afterwards gained fame in fighting their country's battles. One of these officers was Stephen Decatur, the hero of this story, who afterwards, as captain of the frigate United States, {159} whipped the British frigate Macedonian after a fight of an hour and a half.

One morning late in the fall of 1803, the frigate Philadelphia, one of the best ships of our little navy, while chasing a piratical craft, ran upon a sunken reef near the harbor of Tripoli. The good ship was helpless either to fight or to get away.

The officers and crew worked with all their might. They threw some of the cannon overboard, they cut away the foremast, they did everything they could to float the vessel. It was no use; the ship stuck fast.

Of course it did not take long for the Tripolitans to see that the American war ship was helpless. Their gunboats swarmed round the ill-fated vessel and opened fire. It was a trying hour for the gallant Captain Bainbridge and his men. Down must come the colors, and down they came. The officers and the sailors were taken ashore and thrown into prison.

After a time, the Tripolitans got the Philadelphia off the reef. Then, towing her into the harbor of Tripoli, they anchored her close under the guns of their forts. {160} The vessel was refitted, cannon were put on board, together with a crew of several hundred sailors, and the crescent flag was raised. She was now ready to sail out to attack our shipping.

Just think of the days of grief and shame for Captain Bainbridge and his men! Think of them as they looked day after day out of the narrow windows of the pasha's castle, and saw this vessel, one of the handsomest in the world, flying the colors of the enemy! These brave Americans had need of all their grit; but they kept up their courage and bided their time.

Commodore Preble now sailed to Sicily, and cast anchor in the harbor of Syracuse.

Don't you suppose the recapture of the Philadelphia was talked of every day?

Of course it was. Everybody in the fleet, from the commodore to the powder monkey, was thinking about it. They must do something, and the sooner the better.

Even Captain Bainbridge in his prison cell wrote several letters with lemon juice, which could be read on being held to the fire, and sent them to Preble. These letters contained plans for sinking the ill-fated ship.

Every one of Preble's young captains was eager to try it. It might mean glory, and promotion, or perhaps failure, and death.

Somehow or other all looked to the dashing Stephen Decatur; for from the first he had taken a leading part in planning the desperate deed.

{161} "For the honor of the flag, sir, the ship must be destroyed. She must never be allowed to sail under that pirate flag," said Commodore Preble to Decatur.

"My father was the ship's first commander," replied the young officer, whose fine black eyes gleamed, "and if I can only rescue her, it will be glory enough for a lifetime."

"You have spoken first," said the commodore, "and it is only right that you should have the first chance."



No time was lost. All hands went to work.

What was their plan?

With a vessel made to look like a Maltese trader, and with his men dressed like Maltese sailors, Decatur meant to steal into the harbor at night, set fire to the Philadelphia, and then make a race for life.

A short time before this, Decatur had captured a small vessel, known as a ketch. As this kind of boat was common here, nobody would suspect her.

{162} The little craft, now named the Intrepid, was soon loaded with all kinds of things that would catch fire easily.

On board the Enterprise on the afternoon of February 3, 1803, the order was, "All hands to muster!"

"I want sixty-one men out of this ship's crew," said Decatur, "to leave to-morrow in the Intrepid, to help destroy the Philadelphia. Let each man who wants to go take two steps ahead."

With a cheer, every officer, every sailor, and even the smallest powder boys stepped forward. No wonder the young captain's fine face beamed with joy.

"A thousand thanks, my men," he said, and the tears came into his eyes; "I am sorry, but you can't all go. I will now choose the men I want to take with me." He picked out about sixty of the youngest and most active.

"Thankee, sir," said each man when his name was called.

Besides his own younger officers and his surgeon, Decatur took five young officers from the Constitution, and a Sicilian pilot named Catalano, who knew the harbor of Tripoli.

That same evening, the little ketch, with its crew of some seventy-five men, sailed out of the harbor of Syracuse amid three lusty cheers. The war brig Siren went with her.

In four days, the two vessels reached the harbor of Tripoli, but a bad storm drove them off shore. What a time they had for six days! The Intrepid was a poor {163} affair at best, and there was no shelter from the fury and the cold of the storm. The sailors slept on the hard deck, nibbled what little ship bread was not water-soaked,— for they had lost all their bacon,—and caught rain water to drink. In cold, hunger, and wet, these men, like true American sailors, sang their songs, cracked their jokes, and kept up their courage.

After a week, the fury of the storm abated, the bright sunshine brought comfort, and the two vessels set sail for Tripoli.

As they drew near the coast, towards evening, the wind was so light that the Siren was almost becalmed. The Intrepid, however, met a light breeze, which sped her toward the rocky harbor.

Decatur saw that his best hope now was to make a bold dash, without waiting for the brig.

"Never mind, boys," he said, "the fewer the number, the greater the glory. Keep your heads level; obey orders every time; and do your duty."

About sunset, the ketch with her alert crew came in sight of the white-walled city. They could see the chain of forts and the frowning castle. The tall black hull and the shining masts of the Philadelphia stood out boldly against the bright blue African sky. Two huge men-of-war and a score of gunboats were moored near her. {164} The harbor was like a giant cavern, at the back of which lay the Philadelphia, manned by pirates armed to the teeth, who were waiting for an attack from the dreaded Americans.

Into these jaws of death, Decatur boldly steered his little craft. The breeze was still fresh. It would never do to take in sail, for the ever-watchful pirates would think it strange. So spare sails and buckets were towed astern to act as a drag, for fear they should reach their goal too early.

The men now hid themselves by lying flat upon the deck, behind the bulwarks, the rails, and the masts. Only a few persons, dressed like Maltese sailors, could be seen. Decatur stood calmly at the wheel by the side of Catalano, the pilot.

"We lay packed closer than sardines in a box, and were still as so many dead men," said one of the men long afterwards to his grandchildren.

About nine o'clock the moon rose, and by its clear light the ketch was steered straight across the blue waters for the bows of the Philadelphia.

"Vessel ahoy! What vessel is that?" shouted an officer of the frigate, as the Intrepid boldly came nearer.

Decatur whispered to his pilot.

"This is the ketch Stella, from Malta," shouted Catalano, in Italian. "We have lost our anchors, and were nearly wrecked in the gale; we want to ride near you during the night."

{165} "All right! but only until daylight," replied the officer, and ordered a line to be lowered.

Without a moment's delay, a boat under the command of young Lawrence put off from the Intrepid. On meeting the pirate boat, he took the line and rowed back to the ketch.

The Americans, in their red jackets and fezzes, hauled away with a right good will, and brought their little craft steadily in toward the huge black hull of the frigate, where they were soon being made fast under her port side.

As the ketch now drifted into a patch of moonlight, the pirate officer spied the anchors with their cables coiled up.

"Keep off! You have lied to me," he shouted, and ordered his men to cut the hawser.

As if by magic, the deck of the ketch swarmed with men, whose strong arms forced their vessel up against the side of the Philadelphia.

"Americans! Americans!" cried the dazed Tripolitans.

"Board! board!" shouted Decatur, as he made a spring for the deck of the frigate, followed by his gallant men.

Although taken by surprise, the Tripolitans fought hard. They were called the best hand to hand fighters in the world, but they were no match for American sailors. As Preble's orders were "to carry all with the sword," no firearms were used. The only weapons {166} were cutlasses. The watchword was "Philadelphia," which they were to use in the darkness.

The Americans formed a line from one side of the ship to the other, and, with Decatur as leader, swept everything before them on the main deck. On the gun deck, Lawrence and McDonough did the same thing. In fifteen minutes, every Tripolitan had been cut down or driven overboard. In spite of the close, sharp fighting, not one of our men received a scratch.

But now comes the tug of war! Every man knows exactly what to do, for he has been well drilled. Some hand up kegs of powder and balls of oakum soaked in tar. Others carry these along the deck and down below. Now they drag two eighteen-pounders amidships, double-shot them, and point them down the main hatch, so as to blow out the bottom of the ship. In a few minutes everything is ready.

"Start the fires!" A puff of smoke, a little blaze, then flames everywhere!

Quick and sharp comes the order to leap aboard the ketch. Decatur, sure that the work thus far is well done, is the last man to leave.

Now all are safe aboard the Intrepid. The order is given to cast off. The ketch still clings to the blazing frigate, from whose portholes the flames are shooting out. The gunpowder left on the deck is covered only with canvas. Life is in peril. They find that the stern rope has not been cast off. Up rush Decatur and his {167} officers, and cut the hawser with their swords. The boat swings clear, and the men row for their lives.

The fierce flames of the burning ship bring the Intrepid into plain view. She is a target for every gun. Bang! bang! thunder a hundred cannon.

"Stop rowing, boys, and give 'em three cheers," shouts Decatur.

Everybody is on his feet in an instant, and joins in the hurrahs.

Solid shot, grape, and shells whistle and scream in the air above the little ketch, and throw up showers of spray as they strike the water. Only one shot hits, and that whizzes through the mainsail. The men bend to their oars and pull for dear life. They are soon well out of {168} range, and, in a short time, safe under the guns of the Siren.

What wild hurrahs were heard when Decatur, clad in a sailor's pea-jacket, and begrimed with powder, sprang on board and shouted, "Didn't she make a glorious bonfire, and we didn't lose a man!"

In telling the story afterwards, the men said it was a superb sight. The flames burst out and ran rapidly up the masts and the rigging, and lighted up the sea and the sky with a lurid glare. The guns soon became heated and began to go off. They fired their hot shot into the shipping, and even into the town. Then, as if giving a last salute, the Philadelphia parted her cables, drifted ashore, and blew up.



As a popular saying goes, "Nothing succeeds like success." So it was with Decatur's deed. His cool head and the fine discipline of his men won success. The famous Lord Nelson, the greatest naval commander of his time, said it was "the most bold and daring act of the age."

Decatur was well rewarded. At twenty-five he was made a captain, and given the command of "Old Ironsides," probably the finest frigate at that time in the world.

{169}

CHAPTER XII "OLD IRONSIDES"

"Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky."

In 1833, when the old war ship Constitution, unfit for service, lay in the navy yard in Charlestown, the Secretary of the Navy decided to sell her or to break her up. On the appearance of this bit of news in a Boston paper, Oliver Wendell Holmes, a law student at Harvard, scribbled some verses and sent them to the editor.

This poem of twenty-four lines was at once published, and was soon copied into the leading newspapers of the country. In our large cities, the poem was circulated as a handbill. Popular indignation rose to a white heat, and swept everything before it.

The order was at once revoked, and Congress decided that the old frigate, so dear to the hearts of the American people, should be rebuilt.

Why did the people care so much about "Old Ironsides"?



For twenty-five years after the adoption of the Constitution, we had a rough road to travel. We were {170} nearly crushed by our foreign debts, and could do little to defend ourselves on the high seas. England boarded our ships and carried off our sailors, and France captured our vessels and stole their cargoes. Even the Barbary pirates, when they spied the new flag, began to plunder and burn our merchantmen, and sell their crews into slavery.

In the fall of 1793, eight Algerine pirate craft sailed out into the Atlantic, and within a month had captured eleven of our ships and made slaves of more than a hundred of our sailors.

Think of our consul at Lisbon writing home, "Another Algerine pirate in the Atlantic. God preserve us!"

In behalf of American citizens held as slaves by these pirates, a petition was sent to Congress. A bill was then passed, allowing President Washington to build or to buy six frigates.

It was a fortunate day for our nation when the plans of Mr. Humphreys, a shipbuilder of Philadelphia, were accepted. He was directed by Congress to prepare the models of six war ships, to be built in different towns on the coast.

The design of the Constitution was sent to Boston, and her keel was laid in Hartt's Naval Yard, near what is now Constitution Wharf. The ideas of Mr. Humphreys were carried out to the letter. The new frigate was to have better guns, greater speed, greater cruising capacity,—in fact, was to be a little better {171} in every respect than the British and the French ships of the same rating.

The Constitution was called a forty-four-gun frigate, although she actually carried thirty twenty-four-pounders on her main deck, and twenty-two thirty-two-pounders on her spar deck. She had one gun deck instead of two, and her cannon were heavier than were usually carried on foreign war ships of her own class. She was twenty feet longer and about five feet broader than {172} the far-famed thirty-eight-gun British frigates. In comparison with a modern war ship, she was less than one half as long as the armed cruiser New York, and not far from the size of one of our gunboats.

The British naval officers made much sport of these new ships; but after "Old Ironsides" had destroyed two fine British frigates, and had outsailed a large British fleet, they went to work and made over some of their line of battle ships into large frigates.

The Constitution was built of the best material, and with unusual care. A Boston shipwright was sent South to select live oak, red cedar, and hard pine. Paul Revere, who made the famous midnight ride to Concord, received nearly four thousand dollars for the copper which he furnished for the new frigate.

From the laying of the keel to the final equipment, the Constitution was kept in the shipyard fully three years. Her live oak timbers, having had two years to season, were hard as iron.

After many delays, the stanch ship was set afloat at midday, October 21, 1797, "before a numerous and brilliant collection of citizens."

In 1803, a fleet was sent to the north of Africa, to force the pirates of the Barbary coast to respect the persons and the property of American citizens. Commodore Preble was made commander, with the Constitution as his flagship. He had under him the Philadelphia, a fine new frigate, and five smaller war ships.

{173} Preble was a remarkable man, and his "schoolboy captains," as he called them, all under twenty-five years of age, were also remarkable men.

For two years or more, there was plenty of stubborn fighting. Within forty days, five attacks were made on the forts and the war ships of Tripoli. In three of these attacks, the Constitution took part; and once, while supporting the fleet, she silenced more than a hundred guns behind the forts of the pirate capital.

Even from the first, the new frigate was lucky. She was never dismasted, or seriously injured, in battle or by weather. In all her service, not one commanding officer was ever lost, and few of her crew were ever killed.

On one occasion, six of our gunboats made a savage hand to hand attack on twenty-one Tripolitan gunboats, and drove them back into the harbor with great loss.

"There, Commodore Preble," said young Decatur, as he came over the side of the Constitution, and walked joyfully up to his commander on the quarter-deck, "I have brought you out three of the gunboats."

Preble had a kind heart, but a very quick temper. Like a flash, he seized Decatur by the collar and shook him, shouting, "Aye, sir, why did you not bring me out more?" and walked into his cabin.

The stern old fighter was over his temper in a moment. He sent for his young officer, and made ample amends for bad temper and hasty words. Ever afterwards these two great men were the best of friends.

{174} During the war of 1812, "the war for free trade and sailors' rights," the Constitution won her chief honors. The story of her remarkable escape from a British squadron has been often told.

It was at daybreak about the middle of July, 1812, off the New Jersey coast. Not a breath ruffled the ocean. Captain Isaac Hull, every inch of him a sailor, was in command. A British fleet of five frigates and some smaller vessels, which had been sighted the day before, had crept up during the night, and at daylight almost surrounded "Old Ironsides."



Hull knew his ship and his men. Not for one moment did he think of giving up his vessel. Of course he could not fight his powerful foe with his single ship. He must get away. But how?

One of the British frigates, the Shannon, had furled her sails, and was being towed by all the boats of the fleet.

"This," said Lieutenant Morris, "seemed to decide our fate."

A moment later, however, a puff of wind carried our frigate out of gunshot.

"How deep is the water?" shouts Captain Hull.

"Twenty fathoms," is the reply.

"Out with the kedge anchor!" cries Hull.

All the spare ropes and cables are fastened together and payed out to an anchor, which is dropped into the sea a mile ahead. The sailors on the frigate go round {175} the windlass on the run, and the vessel is slowly drawn ahead to the anchor, which is now quickly taken up and carried out once more. This is called kedging.

Our sailor boys give cheer on cheer as they whirl the windlass and pull at the oars.

The captain of one of the enemy's frigates now sees the game, and tries kedging, but does not get near enough to throw a shot.

Three of the pursuing frigates open fire at long range, without doing any damage.

All day long this pursuit is kept up. Every gun is loaded, ready to fire. The men rest by the cannon, with their rammers and their sponges beside them. All the next day the chase goes on. At last, slowly but surely, the American frigate gains on her pursuers. At four o'clock in the afternoon, the Shannon is four miles astern.

Two hours later, a squall gave Hull a chance to play a trick on his pursuers. Sail was shortened the moment the squall struck. The British captain, seeing the apparent confusion on board the Yankee frigate, also shortened sail. The moment his vessel was hidden by {176} the rain, Hull quickly made sail again. When the weather cleared, his nearest pursuer was far astern.

At daylight the next morning, the British fleet was almost out of sight, and, after a chase of three nights and two days, gave up the contest.

Six days later, the good people of Boston went wild with delight, as their favorite frigate ran the blockade and came to anchor in the harbor.

Captain Hull was not the man to be shut up in Boston harbor if he could help it. In less than two weeks he ran the blockade and sailed out upon the broad ocean. A powerful British fleet was off the coast. Hull knew it, but out he sailed with his single ship to battle for his country.

Now the British had a fine frigate named the Guerriere. This vessel was one of the fleet that had given the Constitution such a hot chase a few days before. Captain Dacres, her commander, and Captain Hull were personal friends, and had wagered a hat on the result of a possible battle between their frigates. The British captain had just written a challenge to the commander of our fleet, saying that he should like to meet any frigate of the United States, to have a few minutes tete-a-tete.

On the afternoon of August 19, about seven hundred miles northeast of Boston, these two finest frigates in the world, the Guerriere and the Constitution, met for the "interview" that Dacres so much wanted.

All is hurry and bustle on "Old Ironsides."

{177} "Clear for action!" shrilly sounds the boatswain's whistle.

The fife and drum call to quarters. Everybody hurries to his place.

The British frigate, as if in defiance, flings out a flag from each topmast. Her big guns flash, but the balls fall short.

"Don't fire until I give the word," orders Captain Hull.

Now the Guerriere, drawing nearer and nearer, pours in a broadside.

"Shall we not fire, sir?" asks Lieutenant Morris.

"Not yet," is Hull's reply.

Another broadside tears through the rigging, wounding several men. The sailors are restless at their double-shotted guns.

Now the two frigates are fairly abreast, and within pistol shot of each other.

"Now, boys, do your duty. Fire!" shouts the gallant commander, at the top of his voice.

Hull is a short and stout man. As he leans over to give the order to fire, his breeches burst from hip to knee. The men roar with laughter. There is no time to waste, however, and so he finishes the battle in his laughable plight.

An officer, pointing to the captain, cries, "Hull her, boys! hull her!"

The men, catching the play upon words, shout, "Hull her! Yes, we'll hull her!"

{178} "Old Ironsides" now lets fly a terrible broadside at close range. The Guerriere's mizzenmast goes overboard.

"My lads, you have made a brig of that craft!" cries Hull.

"Wait a moment, sir, and we'll make her a sloop!" shout back the sailors.

Sure enough, the Guerriere swings round and gets a raking fire, which cuts away the foremast and much of the rigging, and leaves her a helpless hulk in the trough of the sea. The flag goes down with the rigging, and there is nothing to do but to surrender.

In just thirty minutes, the British frigate is a wreck.

During the hottest part of the battle, a sailor, at least so runs the story, saw a cannon ball strike the side of the vessel and fall back into the sea.

"Hurrah, boys! hurrah for 'Old Ironsides'!" he shouted to his mates; "her sides are made of iron."

Some say that from this incident the nickname of "Old Ironsides" took its origin.

Captain Hull received his old friend Dacres, kindly, on board the Constitution, and said, "I see you are wounded, Dacres. Let me help you."

When the British captain offered his sword, Hull said, "No, Dacres, I cannot take the sword of a man who knows so well how to use it, but I will thank you for that hat!"



Just as they were ready to blow up the Guerriere, Dacres remembered that a Bible, his wife's gift, which {179} he had carried with him for years, had been left behind. Captain Hull at once sent a boat after it.

Twenty-five years after this incident, Captain Dacres, then an admiral, gave Hull a dinner on his flagship, at Gibraltar, and told the ladies the story of his wife's Bible.

When "Old Ironsides" came sailing up the harbor, on the last day of August, what a rousing reception the people of Boston gave Captain Hull and his gallant men!

All the people of the town crowded the wharves or filled the windows and the housetops overlooking the bay. The streets were gay with bunting, and there was a grand dinner, with many patriotic speeches and deafening cheers.

In less than five months after her battle with the Guerriere, the Constitution had her hardest fight. It was with the Java, one of the best frigates in the British navy. Her commander, Captain Lambert, was said to be {180} one of the ablest sailors that ever handled a war ship. The battle took place some thirty miles off the northeast coast of Brazil.

The Constitution was commanded by Captain William Bainbridge. Before this, he had done some feats of seamanship, but thus far in his career he had not been fortunate. As you remember, Captain Bainbridge, through no fault of his own, lost the Philadelphia off the harbor of Tripoli.

The battle began about two o'clock in the afternoon, with broadsides from both frigates.

Bainbridge was soon wounded in the hip by a musket ball; then the wheel was shattered, and a small copper bolt was driven into his thigh. Unwilling to leave the deck a moment, he had his wounds dressed while directing the battle.

Finding that he could not get near enough to the swift British frigate, Bainbridge boldly headed for the enemy. There was great risk of getting raked, but fortunately the Java's shots went wild.



"Old Ironsides" was now within close range of the Java, and the fire of her heavy cannon soon left the British frigate dismasted and helpless. The British did not surrender, however, until every stick in the ship except a part of the mainmast had been cut away.

Captain Lambert was mortally injured, his first lieutenant severely hurt, and nearly fifty men were killed and more than one hundred wounded. "Old Ironsides" came out of the battle with every spar in place.

{181} The wheel of the Java was removed and fitted on the Constitution, to replace the one which had been shot away.

A few years after the war, some British naval officers paid a visit to "Old Ironsides."

"You have a most perfect vessel," said one of them, "but I must say that you have a very ugly wheel for so beautiful a frigate."

"Yes," said the American captain to whom the remark was made, "it is ugly. We lost our wheel in fighting the Java, and after the battle we replaced it with her wheel, and somehow we have never felt like changing it."

{182} Bainbridge was a great-hearted and heroic man. When he was told that Captain Lambert was mortally injured, he forgot his own wounds and had his men carry him to the blood-stained quarter-deck, where the British officer lay. He then put into the dying man's hand the sword he had just surrendered.

On Captain Bainbridge's return to Boston, another long procession marched up State Street, and another grand dinner was given. When he traveled by coach to Washington, the people along the route turned out in great crowds to honor the naval hero.

The Constitution fought her last battle off the Madeira Islands, on February 20, 1815, under the command of Captain Charles Stewart, one of the hardest fighters in the history of our navy.

"What shall I bring you for a present?" said Captain Stewart to his bride.

"A British frigate," promptly replied the patriotic young wife.

"I will bring you two," answered Stewart.

On the afternoon of February 20, two British men-of-war hove in sight. They proved to be the frigate Cyane and the sloop of war Levant.

"Old Ironsides" made all sail to overhaul them.

Stewart's superb seamanship in this sharp battle has excited the admiration of naval experts, even to our own day. It is generally admitted that no American ship was ever better handled. He raked one vessel and then {183} the other, repeatedly. Neither of the enemy's war ships got in a single broadside.

Just forty minutes after Stewart's first fire, the Cyane surrendered. A full moon then rose in all its splendor, and the battle went stoutly on with the Levant. At ten o'clock, however, she, too, perfectly helpless, struck her colors.

"Old Ironsides'" last great battle was over. Singlehanded, she had fought two British war ships at one time and defeated them, and that, too, with only three men killed and twelve wounded. In less than three hours our stanch frigate was again in fighting trim.

With the exception of long periods of rest, "Old Ironsides" carried her country's flag with dignity and honor for forty years.

Her cruising days ended just before the outburst of the Civil War, in 1861, when she was taken to Newport, Rhode Island, to serve as a school-ship for the Naval Academy. Later, she was housed over, and used as a receiving ship at Portsmouth, New Hampshire. In the fall of 1897, she was towed to the navy yard at Charlestown, to take part in her centennial celebration, October 21, 1897.

The old Constitution has been rebuilt in parts, and repaired many times; so that little remains of the original vessel except her keel and her floor frames. These huge pieces of her framework, hewn by hand from solid oak, are the same that thrilled with the shock of the old guns, {184} before the granite forts of Tripoli. Over them floated the American flag and the pennants of Preble, Hull, Bainbridge, Decatur, Stewart, and many other gallant men, whose heroic deeds have shed luster on the American navy.

It is interesting to know that Commodore Stewart was the last survivor of the great captains of the war of 1812. He served his country faithfully for seventy-one years, and lived to be ninety-one. He died at his home, called "Old Ironsides," in New Jersey, in 1869.

The loss of a few frigates did not matter much to England, but the loss of her naval prestige in the war of 1812 was of importance to the whole world. For the first time, Europe realized that there was a new nation, which was able and willing to fight for its freedom on the ocean, as it had fought for its independence on land.

"Old Ironsides" still survives, a weather-beaten and battle-scarred hull, but a precious memorial of the nation's glory. She has earned a lasting place in the affections of the American people.

{185}

CHAPTER XIII "OLD HICKORY'S" CHRISTMAS

At the beginning of the last century, England was fighting for her very life against the mighty Napoleon. We remained neutral; but our ships were doing a fine business in carrying supplies to the two nations.

England, however, looked at us with a jealous eye, and was determined to prevent our trade with France. On the other hand, Napoleon was eager to shut us out from England.

Thus trouble arose. Both nations began to meddle with our commerce, and to capture and plunder our ships. What did they care for the rights of a feeble nation so long as each could cut off the other's supplies?

Great Britain, moreover, could not man her enormous navy. To get sailors, she overhauled our merchantmen on the high seas and carried men away to supply her war ships. In 1807, nearly two hundred of our merchantmen had been taken by the British, and fully as many more by the French. The time had come when we must either fight or give up our trade.

It was hard to know what was best to do. Some were for fighting both England and France at the same time.

{186} Thomas Jefferson, who was President at this time, and James Madison, who followed him in 1809, were men of peace, and believed that the nation should keep out of war.

In 1811, however, the pent-up wrath of the people, roused by even greater insults, found relief in electing a "war" Congress. Then, through men like Henry Clay and John C. Calhoun, President Madison yielded to popular feeling, and in June, 1812, war was declared with Great Britain.

It was a bold thing to do. England had thousands of well-seasoned troops, commanded by officers who had been trained by Wellington. Our regular army had less than seven thousand men, and our main dependence was upon the militia, who proved of little service. To meet England on the water, we had only six frigates and a dozen or more little craft. England had more than two hundred war ships larger than any of ours.

The war began, and was carried on, in a haphazard sort of way. Most of our land battles were inglorious enough; but the story of our naval battles is another thing. England, the "mistress of the seas," met with some unpleasant surprises. Out of fifteen naval contests, with equal forces, we won twelve. Never before had the British navy met with such defeats.

Early in the year 1814, Napoleon was driven into exile at Elba, and Europe was for a time free from war. England was now able to send larger fleets and more {187} troops to our shores, and planned to capture New Orleans, the gateway to the commerce of the Mississippi. The hour of trial had indeed come for the fair Creole city.

New Orleans was foreign in character, having been joined to our republic by purchase, with little in common with our people except a bitter hatred for England.

In the last week of November, a great fleet with ten thousand veterans sailed across the Gulf of Mexico, in the direction of New Orleans. The troops, most of whom had just served in Spain, under the "Iron Duke," were held to be the best fighting men in the world.

The voyage seems to have been a kind of gala trip. The wives of many of the officers sailed with their husbands; and the time was spent in dancing, in musical and theatrical performances, and in other festivities.

So sure were the proud Britons of taking the Creole city that they brought officers to govern it.

On December 9, in the midst of a storm, the ships anchored off the delta of the Mississippi.

The British, having planned to approach New Orleans from the east, sent the lighter craft to cross Lake Borgne, some fifteen miles from the city.

Five American gunboats, commanded by a young officer named Jones, with less than two hundred men, were guarding the lake. The British landed twelve hundred marines. There was a sharp hand to hand fight for an hour, in which over three hundred of the British were {188} killed or wounded. But it was twelve hundred against two hundred. Young Jones was severely wounded, and his gunboats were captured.

It was now two days before Christmas. In a little dwelling house in Royal Street all was hurry and bustle. This was General Jackson's headquarters. Early in the afternoon, a young French officer, Major Villere, had galloped to the door, with the word that an outpost on his father's plantation, twelve miles below New Orleans, had been surprised that morning by the British.

"The redcoats are marching in full force straight for the city," he said; "and if they keep on, they will reach here this very night."

"By the Eternal!" exclaimed Jackson. His eyes flashed, his reddish gray hair began to bristle, and he brought his fist down upon the table. "They shall not sleep upon our soil this night."

"Gentlemen," he continued to his officers and to the citizens round him, "the British are below; we must fight them to-night."



The great bell on the old cathedral of St. Louis begins to ring, cannon are fired three times to signify danger, and messengers ride to and fro in hot haste, with orders for the troops to take up their line of march.

The people of New Orleans had heard how the rough Britons dealt with the cities of Spain, and they knew well enough that the hated redcoats would treat their own loved city in like manner.

{189} Jackson put every able-bodied man at work. It was a motley crowd. Creoles, Frenchmen, Spaniards, prison convicts, negroes, and even Lafitte, the far-famed "Pirate of the Gulf," and his crew of buccaneers, answered Jackson's call. The people cheerfully submitted to martial law. The streets resounded with "Yankee Doodle" and with "The Marseillaise" sung in English, French, and Spanish.

The backwoodsmen once more came to the front, as they had done at King's Mountain, thirty-five years before. The stern features of "Old Hickory" relaxed a bit at the sight of Colonel Carroll and his riflemen from Nashville. They arrived in flatboats on the same day that the British vanguard reached the river. Clad in coonskin caps and fringed leggins, and {190} with their long rifles on their shoulders, these rough pioneers came tramping into the city. They were tall, gaunt fellows, with powder horns over their buckskin shirts, and with hunting knives in their belts.

Colonel Coffee, too, had come with his regiment of mounted riflemen, and was encamped five miles below the city.

Now Jackson knew that if he did not have time to throw up some earthworks, the city was likely to fall. In his usual fiery way, he made up his mind to attack the enemy that very night.

Meanwhile the British had built their camp fires along the levee, and were eating their supper. Not once did they think themselves in danger.

Soon after dark, a strange vessel, dropping quietly down the river, anchored within musket shot. Some of the redcoats thought it best to stir up the stranger, and so fired several times at her.

Suddenly a hoarse voice was heard, "Now give it to them, boys, for the honor of America!"

It was the Carolina, an American war schooner.

At once shot and shell rained on the British camp, killing or wounding at least a hundred men in ten minutes. The redcoats trampled out their camp fires, and fled behind the levee for shelter.

This was a rather warm reception, but it became a great deal warmer when Jackson charged into their camp. For two hours in the dark was fought a series {191} of deadly hand to hand fights. The British used their bayonets, the riflemen their hunting knives.

At last, a thick fog from the river made it impossible to tell friend from foe. The redcoats retreated and found shelter behind the levee. The Americans fell back about three miles and camped.

This bold night attack cost the British five hundred in killed and wounded, and saved New Orleans from capture. Jackson had gained his point. He had dealt the enemy a sudden, stinging blow.



Christmas opened drearily enough for the invaders, but before night, to their great joy, Sir Edward Pakenham arrived from England, and took command. The British had now about ten thousand men, led by three veterans. Surely, it would be nothing but boy's play for the great Sir Edward to defeat the "backwoods general" and his motley army. On his return home, his reward was to be a peerage.

Pakenham went to work bright and early the next morning. Within two days, eleven cannon and a mortar were brought from the fleet, and mounted in a redoubt on the bank of the river. The battery at once began {192} to throw red-hot shells at the two war vessels in the river. The little Carolina soon blew up, while the Louisiana was towed out of range and escaped.

The next morning, Sir Edward thought that by marching out his army he might get a look at the enemy. He was not disappointed, for after advancing nearly three miles, he stumbled on the Americans in good earnest.

No sooner were the British columns in sight than they were driven back by a brisk fire of shot and shell. Then followed a furious artillery duel. In vain the British pounded away with field pieces, rocket guns, and mortars; they were forced back by the cannon of the Americans.

The British commander now saw that he must lay regular siege to the American position.

Shortly after midnight, on New Year's morning, his men silently advanced to within three hundred yards of Jackson's first intrenchments, which were made of cotton bales, and threw up a redoubt of mud and hogsheads of sugar. When the fog lifted at ten o'clock, the Americans were surprised to see the British cannon frowning upon them.

The artillery began to roar. Jackson's cotton bales were soon burning. On the other hand, the Louisiana and a water battery did fine work with their raking fire, and soon blew the sugar barrels into thousands of pieces. The British guns were quickly silenced, and only the gallantry of the sailors from the war ships saved them from capture.

{193} Sir Edward had boasted that he should pass this New Year's night in New Orleans; but his reception had been so warm that he was now forced to withdraw. Jackson had made it so lively for the invaders that they had been without sleep and food for nearly sixty hours.

The British admiral tried a grim joke by sending word to Sir Edward that, if he did not hurry and capture the city, he should land his marines and do up the job himself.

The British now decided to carry by storm the American lines on both sides of the river, and chose Sunday morning, January 8, for the attack.

Jackson gave himself and his men no rest, night or day. He had redoubts thrown up even to the city itself.

The main line of defense, over which not a single British soldier passed, except as prisoner, was a mud bank about a mile and a half long. In front of it was a ditch, or half choked canal, which ran from the river to an impassable cypress swamp on the left wing.

All Saturday night, January 7, was heard in the British camp the sound of pickax and shovel, the rumble of artillery, and the muffled tread of the regiments, as they marched to their several positions in the line of battle.

After a day of great fatigue, Jackson lay down upon a sofa to rest. At midnight, he looked at his watch and spoke to his aids.

"Gentlemen," he said, "we have slept long enough. The enemy will be upon us in a few moments."

{194} Long before daylight, "Old Hickory" saw to it that every man was at his post. Leaning on their rifles, or grouped about the great guns, the men in silence saluted their beloved general, as he rode from post to post, in the thick fog of that long, wakeful night.

The lifting of the fog in the early light revealed the long scarlet lines of British veterans, in battle array. Surely it was only something to whet their appetites for breakfast, for such well-trained fighters to carry that low, mud earthwork.

The bugle sounded, and the red-coated grenadiers and the kilted Highlanders moved steadily forward in columns. Not a rifle cracked, but the cannon from the mud earthwork thundered furiously. Grape and solid shot tore long lanes through the advancing battalions.

General Gibbs led the attack on the left, which a deserter had told Pakenham was the weakest part of the earthwork. So it was; but on the day before the battle, Jackson had stationed there his Tennessee riflemen.

Nearer come the British regulars on the double-quick. The four lines of sturdy riflemen wait until three fourths of the distance is covered.

Suddenly the clear voice of General Carroll rings out, "Fire!"

A sheet of flame bursts from the earthwork. The advancing columns falter, stop, break, and run. Not a man reaches the redoubt.

{195} It was said that an old thirty-two-pounder had been loaded to the muzzle with musket balls, the first volley of which killed or wounded two hundred of the enemy.

"Here comes the Ninety-Third! Rally on the Ninety-Third!" shouts Pakenham, as this splendid regiment of eight hundred kilted Highlanders advances amid the confusion.

The brave men now rally for another desperate charge.

"Hurrah, boys! the day is ours!" shouts Colonel Rennie, as he leads the attack on the right flank.

But the day is not theirs. A few officers and men actually get across the ditch, but every one of them is shot dead the moment his head shows over the earthwork. The wavering columns stagger and give way.

Sir Edward leaves General Lambert in command of the reserve, and, with generals Gibbs and Keane, now leads the assault. The mud earthwork again belches its sheets of flame, as the backwoods riflemen fire their death-dealing volleys. Again the proud columns give way.

"Forward, men, forward!" cries Pakenham, ordering the bugler to sound the charge.

A rifle ball carries away the bugle before a note is sounded.

"Order up the reserve!" shouts the British commander, and leads his men to another deadly charge.

A rifle bullet shatters his right leg, another kills his horse, and finally a third, fired by a negro, instantly {196} kills him. Gibbs and Keane are both severely wounded. The officers in the brilliant uniforms are easy targets for the sharpshooters.

It is what Bunker Hill might have been if the patriots had had stronger breastworks and plenty of ammunition.

The eight hundred Highlanders, with pale faces but firm step, advance to the ditch, and, too proud to run, stand the fire until few more than a hundred are left. These slowly retire with their faces still toward the Americans.

The battle lasted only twenty-five minutes. During this time the American flag was kept flying near the middle of the line. A military band roused the troops. Just after the fight, Jackson and his staff in full uniform rode slowly along the lines. The wild uproar of that motley army was echoed by thousands of spectators, who with fear and trembling had watched the issue of the contest.



In the final and decisive action on that Sunday morning, the British had about six thousand men, while Jackson had less than three thousand. Of the British, seven hundred were killed, fourteen hundred wounded, and five hundred taken prisoners. The Americans had only eight killed and fourteen wounded!

It was the most astonishing battle ever fought on this continent. There had never been a defeat so crushing, with a loss so small.

{197} For a week or more, the British kept sullenly within their lines. Jackson clung to his intrenchments. He was a fearless fighter, but was unwilling to risk a battle with well-tried veterans in an open field. He kept up, however, a continual pounding with his big guns, and his mounted riflemen gave the redcoats no rest.

In about three weeks, General Lambert skillfully retreated to the ships, and, soon afterwards, the entire army sailed for England.

Such was the glorious but dreadful battle of New Orleans, the anniversary of which is still celebrated.

{198} Honors fell thick and fast upon "Old Hickory." Fourteen years later, he became the seventh President of the United States.

The sad part of this astounding victory is that peace had been declared about two weeks before the battle was fought. A "cablegram," or even an ocean greyhound, could have saved the lives of many brave men.

When peace was made, nothing was said about impressing our sailors, or about the rights of our merchantmen. From that day to this, however, no American citizen has been forced to serve on a British war ship, and no American vessel has ever been searched on the high seas.

The war of 1812 was not fought in vain. The nations of the world saw that we would fight to maintain our rights. Best of all, perhaps, this war served to strengthen the feeling of nationality among our own people.

{199}

CHAPTER XIV A HERO'S WELCOME

Rarely has the benefactor of a people been awarded such measure of gratitude as we gave Lafayette, in 1824. Eager crowds flocked into the cities and the villages to welcome this hero. Thousands of children, the boys in blue jackets and the girls in white dresses, scattered flowers before him. If you could get your grandfather or your grandmother to tell you of this visit, it would be as interesting as a storybook.

The conditions in the United States were just right for such an outburst of feeling. Everybody knew the story of the rich French nobleman, who, at the age of nineteen, had left friends, wife, home, and native land, to cast his lot with strange people, three thousand miles away, engaged in fighting for freedom.

It was not until after the battle of Bunker Hill that, at a grand dinner party, the young marquis heard of our struggle for independence. He knew neither our country nor our people, and he did not speak our language; but his sympathies were at once awakened, and he made up his mind to fight for us.

In the spring of 1777, at his own expense, he bought and fitted out a vessel with military supplies, and sailed {200} for America. Seven weeks later, he landed in South Carolina, and at once went to Philadelphia to offer his services to Congress.

He wrote a note to a member of Congress, in which he said, "After the sacrifices I have made, I have the right to exact two favors; one is, to serve at my own expense, the other, to serve as a volunteer."

These manly words and the striking appearance of the young Frenchman, together with letters from Benjamin Franklin, had their effect. His services were accepted, and he was made a major general.

For seven years Lafayette served Washington as an aid and a personal friend. His deep sympathy, his generous conduct, and his gracious ways won all hearts, from the stately Washington to the humblest soldier. Personal bravery on the battlefield at once gained fame for him as a soldier, and made him one of the heroes of the hour. His example worked wonders in getting the best young men of the country to enlist in the army.

During the fearful winter at Valley Forge, the young nobleman suddenly changed his manner of living. Used to ease and personal comforts, he became even more frugal and self-denying than the half-starved and half-frozen soldiers. How different it must have been from the gayeties and the luxuries of the French court of the winter before!

The battle of Monmouth was fought on a hot Sunday in June, 1778. From four o'clock in the morning until {201} dusk, Lafayette fought like a hero. Late at night, when the battle was over, he and Washington lay upon the same cloak, under a tree, and talked over the strange events of the day until they fell asleep.

After the battle of Monmouth, Lafayette went back to France to visit his family, and to plead the cause of his adopted country. He was kindly received at court.

"Tell us all the good news about our dearly-beloved Americans," begged the queen.

To the king, Lafayette spoke plainly: "The money that you spend, Sire, on one of your court balls would go far towards sending an army to the colonies in America, and dealing England a blow where she would most feel it."

In the spring of 1780, Lafayette returned to America with the French king's pledge of help.

At the close of the Revolution, the gallant young marquis went back to France, the hero of his nation, but {202} his interest in America never grew less. When the treaty of peace was signed at Paris, he hired a vessel and hurried it across the ocean, with the good news.

In 1784, the year after peace was declared, Lafayette visited this country for the third time. He made Washington a long visit at Mount Vernon, went over the old battlefields, and met his old comrades.



In 1824, it was known that Lafayette, now an old man, longed to visit once more the American people and the scenes he loved so well. Congress at once requested President Monroe to invite him as the nation's guest.

Forty years had wrought a marvelous change in America. The thirteen colonies, in whose cause the young Frenchman came over the sea, had been united into a nation of twenty-four states. The experiment of laying the foundation of a great republic had proved successful. The problem of self-government had been solved.

The United States had taken its place among the great nations of the world,—a republic of twelve millions of prosperous and happy people. Towns and cities had sprung up like magic. The tide of immigration had taken possession of mountain and valley of what was then the far West.

The people of the young nation were still rejoicing over the glorious victories of Hull, Decatur, Bainbridge, Perry, and other heroes of the sea. Less than ten years {203} before, General Jackson had won his great victory at New Orleans.

Time had dealt heavily with the great generals of the Revolution. Washington had been laid away in the tomb at Mount Vernon, twenty-five years before. Greene, Wayne, Marion, Morgan, Schuyler, Knox, and Lincoln were all dead. Stark had died only two years before. Sumter was still living. Lafayette was the last surviving major general of the Revolution.

The people of this country were familiar with Lafayette's remarkable history since he had left America. They had heard of his lifelong struggle against tyranny in his native land. They knew him as the gallant knight who had dealt hard blows in the cause of freedom. They cared little about the turmoils of French politics, but knew that this champion of liberty had been for five years in an Austrian dungeon.

Do you wonder that the grateful people of the sturdy young republic were eager to receive him as their guest?

In company with his son, George Washington Lafayette, and his private secretary, Lafayette landed at Staten Island, New York, on Sunday, August 15, 1824. He spent the night at the house of Vice President Tompkins. The next day, six thousand citizens came, in a grand procession of gayly decked vessels, to escort the national guest to the city. The cannon from the forts and from the men-of-war boomed a welcome, while two hundred thousand people cheered themselves hoarse.

{204} Within a few days Lafayette went to Washington, and was formally received as the nation's guest by President Monroe, at the White House.



As our guest now enters upon an unbroken series of receptions and triumphal ovations in the twenty-four states of the Union, let us take a glimpse at his personal appearance.

Lafayette was tall, rather stout, and had a large head. His face was oval and regular, with a high forehead. His complexion was light, and his cheeks were red. He had a long nose, and well-arched eyebrows overhanging grayish blue eyes. He had lost his hair in the Austrian prison, and in its place wore a curly, reddish brown wig, set low upon his forehead, thus concealing the heavy wrinkles upon his brow.

"Time has much changed us, for then we were young and active," said Lafayette to his old friend, the famous Indian chief Red Jacket, whom he met at Buffalo.

{205} "Alas!" said the aged warrior, who did not suspect the finely made French wig, "time has left my white brother red cheeks and a head covered with hair; but for me,—look!" and, untying the handkerchief that covered his head, the old chieftain showed with a grim smile that he was entirely bald.

The veteran soldiers of the Revolution said they could not see any resemblance to their youthful hero of nearly half a century before. He was always a plain-looking, if not a homely man, but his smile was magnetic, his face singularly attractive, and his manner full of sweet and gracious courtesy. To the people of the Revolution he was always known as "the young marquis."

Lafayette remained in New York four days; but, having promised to attend the graduating exercises at Harvard College, he was forced to hasten to Boston. The trip was made by a relay of carriages, with a large civic and military escort.

Although the party traveled from five o'clock in the morning until midnight, it took five days to reach the city. Every village along the route had its triumphal arch, trimmed with flowers and patriotic mottoes. People came for many miles round, to welcome the great man and his party. At night the long file of carriages was escorted by men on horseback, carrying torches. Cannon were fired and church bells rung, all along the route; while, after dark, huge bonfires were lighted on the hilltops and on every village green.

{206} When Lafayette appeared, there was wild excitement in the staid city of Boston. He rode in an open barouche drawn by six white horses; and was escorted by companies of militia, and by twelve hundred mounted tradesmen, clad in white frocks.

It seems that Dr. Bowditch, the famous mathematician, a man too dignified to smile on ordinary occasions, was caught in the crowd that was waiting for Lafayette. He walked up a flight of steps, that he might with proper dignity let the crowd pass. At the sight of the famous Frenchman, he seemed to lose his senses; for in an instant he was in the front ranks of the crowd, trying to shake hands with the honored guest, and shouting with all his might.

On this trip Lafayette went east as far as Portsmouth, New Hampshire. His tour was then directed by way of Worcester, Hartford, and the familiar scenes of the Hudson, to the South and the Southwest, where he visited all the large cities. From New Orleans, he ascended the Mississippi and the Ohio. He then crossed Lake Erie, and, passing through the state of New York and the old Bay State, visited Portland, Maine. Returning by Lake Champlain and the Hudson, he reached New York in time for the magnificent celebration of the Fourth of July, 1825. The tour was brought to an end in September, by a visit to the national capital.

Lafayette's journey through the country lasted for more than a year, and was one unbroken ovation. {207} Towns and cities all over the land vied with each other in paying him honor. It was one long series of public dinners, patriotic speeches, bonfires, flower-decked arches, processions of school children, and brilliant balls.

The old veterans who had fought under Washington eagerly put on their faded uniforms, and found themselves the heroes of the hour, as they fought their battles over again to crowds of eager listeners. In fact, Lafayette's interviews with the old soldiers and the few surviving officers appear to have been the most interesting and the most pathetic features of the whole journey.

A few weeks after his arrival in this country, Lafayette went to Yorktown, to celebrate the anniversary of that notable victory. He was entertained in the house which had been the headquarters of Cornwallis, forty-three years before. A single bed was found for the marquis; but the little village was so crowded that the governor of Virginia and the great officers of the state were forced to camp on straw spread on the floor.

A big box of candles, which once belonged to Cornwallis's supplies, was found in good order in the cellar. They were lighted and arranged in the middle of the camp, where the ladies and the soldiers danced.

The next day, Lafayette received his callers in the large Washington tent, which had been brought from Mount Vernon for this purpose. Branches cut from a fine laurel in front of the Nelson house were woven into a crown, and placed on the head of the honored guest.

{208} Lafayette at once took it off, and, putting it on the head of his old comrade, Colonel Nicholas Fish, who helped him carry the redoubt at Yorktown, said, "Take it; this wreath belongs to you also; keep it as a deposit for which we must account to our comrades."

"Nick," said Lafayette at another time to this aged man, as the two old friends sailed up the Hudson, "do you remember when we used to slide down that hill with the Newburgh girls, on an ox sled?"

On the trip through the Southwest, one of the grandest ovations took place at Nashville, Tennessee. General Jackson, the hero of New Orleans, with forty veterans of the Revolution, and thousands of people from far and near, gave their guest a rousing welcome.

One old German veteran, who came over with Lafayette in 1777, and who served with him during the whole war, traveled a hundred and fifty miles over the mountains to reach Nashville.

As he threw himself into his general's arms, he exclaimed, "I have seen you once again; I have nothing more to wish for; I have lived long enough."

In the grand procession at New Orleans, one hundred Choctaw Indians marched in single file. They had been in camp near the city for a month, that they might be on hand to see "the great warrior," "the brother of their great father Washington."

It would fill a good-sized book to tell you all the incidents and the courtesies that marked this triumphal tour.

{209} At Hartford, Connecticut, eight hundred school children, who had saved their pennies, gave Lafayette a gold medal, and a hundred veterans of the Revolution escorted him through the city to the boat.

When the grand cavalcade reached Portsmouth, New Hampshire, the rain came down in torrents, but a thousand school children, crowned with flowers, lined the road to greet the far-famed man, and not one left the ranks.

In New York City, there was a firemen's parade with nearly fifty hand engines, each drawn by thirty red-shirted men. A sham house was built and set on fire; then, at the captain's signal, the firemen leaped to the brakes and showed their foreign guest how fire was put out in America.

Sixty Boston boys, from twelve to fourteen years of age, formed a flying artillery company, and, keeping just ahead of the long procession, fired salute after salute as the party neared the city.

While in Boston, Lafayette rode out to Quincy one Sunday, to pay a visit of respect to the venerable John Adams, and dine with him. He was astonished to find this noted man and ex-President of the United States living in a one-story frame house. Although the old statesman was so feeble that his grandchildren had to put the food into his mouth, Lafayette said "he kept up the conversation on the old times with an ease and readiness of memory which made us forget his eighty-nine years."

{210} One beautiful night while Lafayette was the guest of Philadelphia, the whole city was illuminated in his honor. Forty thousand strangers flocked into town for the night. The next morning the mayor called upon the distinguished guest, and told him that although it was "a night of joyous and popular effervescence," perfect order prevailed, and not a single arrest was made.

A word was coined to express this flood tide of popular homage, and, for many years afterwards, whenever special honors were paid to anybody, he was said to be "Lafayetted."

A touching incident shows the spirit of gratitude which seemed to seize even the humblest of citizens, in trying to please the nation's guest. The party stopped at a small tavern on a byroad in Virginia, to rest the horses. The landlord came out and begged Lafayette to come into his house, if only for five minutes. The marquis, with his usual courtesy, yielded to the request, and entered.

The plain but neat living room was trimmed with fir trees, and upon its whitewashed wall was written, in charcoal, "Welcome, Lafayette." On a small table was a bottle of strong drink, with glasses, as was the custom in those days. There was also a plate of thin slices of bread, all neatly covered with a napkin. The landlord introduced his wife, and brought in his little five-year old boy. The food was served, and the health of the guest was drunk.

{211}

The speech for the occasion was recited by the boy: "General Lafayette, I thank you for the liberty which you have won for my father, for my mother, for myself, and for my country."

Lafayette was much moved by the sincerity of it all; and after kissing the boy and getting into his carriage, he said, with tears in his eyes, that it was one of the happiest moments of his life.

While on his way to Yorktown, in October, Lafayette paid a visit to Mount Vernon. Again he passed through the rooms and over the grounds with which he was so familiar. What memories of its owner, his great and faithful friend for twenty-two years, must have crowded upon the old hero!

The remains of Washington then lay in the old tomb near the river. The door was opened, and Lafayette went down into the vault, where he remained some moments beside the coffin of his great chief. He came out with his head bowed, and with tears streaming down {212} his face. He then led his son into the tomb, where they knelt reverently, and, after the French fashion, kissed the coffin.

Meanwhile, the fiftieth anniversary of the battle of Bunker Hill was near at hand. The prosperous and happy people of the old Bay State were preparing a celebration. The corner stone of Bunker Hill Monument was to be laid by Lafayette.



The weather on this memorable June day was perfect. Never before had such a crowd been seen in Boston.

A Yankee stage driver very aptly said, "Everything that had wheels and everything that had legs used them to get to Boston."

Through the densely crowded streets, a grand civic and military procession of seven thousand people escorted the guests to Bunker Hill.

As one famous man said, "It seemed as if no spot where a human foot could plant itself was left unoccupied."

Two hundred officers and soldiers of the Revolution marched at the head of the procession. One old man, who had been a drummer in the battle of Bunker Hill, carried the same drum with which he had rallied the patriot forces.

{213} How they shouted when the hero of the day came riding slowly along, in an open barouche drawn by six white horses! The women waved their handkerchiefs and the gayly decked school children scattered flowers.

How thrilling it was to see those forty white-haired men, the survivors of Bunker Hill!

During the morning, these honored heroes had been presented to Lafayette. He had shaken hands with them, had called them by name, and had spoken a few tender words to each of them, as if to some dear friend.



Not a field officer or a staff officer of the battle was living. Captain Clark, the highest surviving officer, came tottering along under the weight of ninety-five years, to shake hands with the French nobleman.

The young man who introduced the veterans, and who in after years became one of the most honored citizens and mayors of Boston, said of this occasion, "If there were dry eyes in the room, mine were not among them."

{214} What a scene it was for an historical picture, when the brave old minister, the Reverend Joseph Thaxter, who was chaplain of Colonel Prescott's regiment, rose to offer prayer and to give the benediction! As his feeble voice was lifted to ask for the blessing of God, it did not seem possible that fifty years before, on the same spot, this man had stood and prayed for the patriot cause.

Daniel Webster was the orator of the day. A famous Englishman once said that no man could be as great as Webster looked, and on this day the majestic orator seemed to tower above all other men.



Every American schoolboy who has had "to speak his piece" knows by heart the famous passage from this oration, beginning, "Venerable men! you have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this joyous day."

Mr. Webster's voice was in such good order that fifteen thousand people are said to have been able to hear him.

At the banquet during the same evening, the great orator said, "I shall never desire to behold again the {215} awful spectacle of so many human faces all turned towards me."

Near the end, Lafayette visited Thomas Jefferson at Monticello. The veteran statesman, now eighty-one years old, drove his old-time friend and guest over to a grand banquet at the University of Virginia. James Madison was present. When the students and the great crowd of people saw Washington's friend seated between the two aged statesmen, a shout went up, the like of which, it was said, was never before heard in the Old Dominion.

When Lafayette arrived in America, in August, 1824, he first visited the national capital, and was formally received at the White House by President Monroe and by many of the great men of the country. On his return to Washington in 1825, he was told that Congress had voted him two hundred thousand dollars and two large tracts of land, for his services during the Revolution.

It was now September, and Lafayette had remained in this country much longer than he had expected. The new President, John Quincy Adams, gave him a farewell dinner at the White House, with a large party of notable men. The President's formal farewell to the country's guest is a classic in our literature.

Amid the blessings and the prayers of a grateful people, Lafayette sailed for France in the new and beautiful frigate Brandywine, which had been built and named in his honor.

{216} For years afterwards, some people used to tell their children, with a peculiar thrill and feeling of awe, that a beautiful rainbow arched the heavens just before Lafayette landed at Staten Island, and that an equally beautiful symbol of peace spanned the broad ocean, as the steamboat moved slowly down Chesapeake Bay, to take the nation's guest on board the Brandywine.



QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW

CHAPTER I, PAGE 1 THE HERO OF VINCENNES

1. Who was Daniel Boone?

2. When did Boone live?

3. How old was George Rogers Clark at this time?

4. Was Clark brave?

5. Why were the pioneers so long in hearing of the battle of Lexington, which was fought in April?

6. How did Lexington, Kentucky, get its name?

7. What kind of life did the pioneers lead in the wilderness?

8. Did the pioneers have other enemies besides the Indians?

9. Why did Clark go back to Virginia?

10. Who lived north of the Ohio?

11. Why did England try to keep the Americans from going west?

12. Who was Hamilton the "hair buyer"?

13. What made the Indians so hostile to the pioneers?

14. How did Clark plan to defend Kentucky?

15. Where was the Illinois country?

16. Why did Clark go back a second time to Virginia?

17. Did anybody think well of Clark's plan of campaign?

18. How much of an army did Clark have for his campaign?

19. Where did Clark plan to begin his campaign?

20. Why did Clark avoid the Mississippi River?

21. Whom did Clark have as guides?

22. How long a march was it to Kaskaskia?

23. What time of year was it when Clark marched to Kaskaskia?

24. Did Clark have trouble in getting into the town of Kaskaskia?

25. What were the people of Kaskaskia doing?

26. How did Clark introduce himself?

27. Who were the Creoles? (Consult a large dictionary.)

28. Who helped Clark make friends?

29. What sort of man was Clark?

30. What did Hamilton do when he heard of Clark's conquest?

31. Why did not Hamilton march from Vincennes to Kaskaskia?

32. Why did Clark decide to push on to Vincennes?

33. At what time of year did Clark start for Vincennes?

34. What did the little army have for food?

35. What hindered Clark's march?

36. How long did it take to cross the plain of the Wabash River?

37. What is a dugout?

38. How did the army get along in crossing the Horseshoe Plain?

39. Who announced Clark's arrival at Vincennes?

40. At what time did Clark reach the village?

41. Why did not Clark allow his men to storm the fort?

42. How did Clark get possession of the fort?

43. Why was Clark's campaign so important?

44. What states are now in this region of Clark's conquest?

45. Do you think Clark was a hero?

CHAPTER II, PAGE 18 A MIDWINTER CAMPAIGN

1. Who led the patriots to victory at Saratoga, New York?

2. Why did Arnold's leg deserve to be buried with the honors of war?

3. When the Revolution began, why did Washington wish to attack Canada?

4. Why did Washington like Benedict Arnold?

5. How had Arnold got information about Canada?

6. How did Arnold try to make friends of the Indians?

7. What is wampum?

8. How was the expedition to reach Canada?

9. Why was it easy to get soldiers for this campaign?

10. What time of year was it when the army started?

11. How were the soldiers treated at Newburyport and at Fort Western?

12. Who was Jacataqua?

13. Why did Jacataqua decide to go with the troops?

14. How was the army divided?

15. What trouble did they have with their boats?

16. What is a carrying place?

17. What made the army diminish in numbers?

18. Why was it so hard to reach the Dead River?

19. Why was the ascent of the Dead River so difficult?

20. How many cups of flour in half a pint?

21. What sort of patriot was Colonel Enos?

22. When the flour was gone, what did the army do for food?

23. What did Jacataqua do?

24. What did Arnold do to save his army?

25. What sort of man was Arnold at this time?

26. How far did Arnold have to go to get provisions?

27. When did the army reach Point Levi?

28. What was the condition of the army when it reached Point Levi?

29. What did the Indians do who learned of Arnold's approach?

30. How did Arnold reach the city of Quebec?

31. How did the British treat Arnold and his men?

32. Why did Arnold leave Quebec?

33. What did Sir Guy Carleton do to save Quebec?

34. Why did the patriots wait so long before attacking the city?

35. How was the attack to be made?

36. What happened to Montgomery, Arnold, and Morgan?

37. How did relief finally come to Quebec?

38. How long had this campaign lasted?

CHAPTER III, PAGE 36 HOW PALMETTO LOGS MAY BE USED

1. Why did the British destroy Norfolk?

2. Why did England wish to punish North Carolina first of all?

3. Why did Sir Henry Clinton delay the attack upon North Carolina?

4. Why did Lord Campbell wish to capture Charleston?

5. What sort of people were the South Carolinians?

6. Why was a fort built on Sullivan's Island?

7. Who was Moultrie?

8. How were the walls of the fort made?

9. How many cannon did Moultrie have?

10. What made the patriots skillful in firing the cannon?

11. What was the difference between General Charles Lee and Governor Rutledge?

12. What sort of man was Colonel Moultrie?

13. How did the British plan to attack the fort?

14. How was the weather on the day of the battle?

15. How many cannon were the British able to fire at one time?

16. What happened to the men-of-war when they were changing their positions?

17. What sort of men were in the palmetto fort?

18. Do you know a good use for palmetto logs?

19. What share in the battle did Sir Henry Clinton and his men have?

20. Did the patriots have plenty of powder?

21. What did McDaniel think about when he was dying?

22. Why did the people of Charleston suppose the fort had surrendered?

23. What did Jasper do to save the flag?

24. Why did not Jasper accept promotion?

25. The people of South Carolina decreed that the fort on Sullivan's Island should forever be called Fort Moultrie. Why do you think they did so?

26. What was the effect of Moultrie's victory?

27. What can you say of Moultrie's after life?

CHAPTER IV, PAGE 50 THE PATRIOT SPY

1. What condition of affairs was troubling Washington at this time?

2. Were the British well situated at this time?

3. Why did Washington withdraw from New York?

4. What did Washington think should be done?

5. What kind of man was needed to carry out Washington's plan?

6. Why did Knowlton find it hard to get a man for Washington's purpose?

7. What reason did Nathan Hale give for volunteering to act as spy?

8. What kind of home did Hale have?

9. What kind of boy had Hale been?

10. What was Hale doing at the time of the battle of Lexington?

11. What did Hale do when he learned of the battle of Lexington?

12. What kind of life did Hale lead when captain in the army?

13. How did Hale disguise himself?

14. What sort of place was "The Cedars"?

15. Was it wise for Hale to spend the night at "Mother Chick's" tavern?

16. What did the British marines do with Hale?

17. Where did the captain of the Halifax send Hale?

18. Did Hale receive a trial?

19. What do you think of Cunningham?

20. What regret did Hale have?

21. How was Hale executed?

22. Where was Hale buried?

23. Was Hale a patriot?

24. Would you call Hale a hero?

CHAPTER V, PAGE 62 OUR GREATEST PATRIOT

1. Whom do you consider our greatest patriot?

2. What kind of example has Washington set us?

3. Why do we admire Washington?

4. What was Washington's appearance?

5. What do you know of Washington's strength?

6. What was Washington's favorite amusement?

7. What can you say of Washington's dignity?

8. What was Washington's diet?

9. What do you know of Washington's fondness for fine dress?

10. What can you say of Washington's education?

11. What kind of horseman was Washington?

12. How wealthy was Washington?

13. How did Washington become so wealthy?

14. How much land did Washington have?

15. What did Washington think of slaves?

16. How did Washington treat his slaves?

17. How did Washington's slaves treat him?

18. Why did Washington call his house "a well resorted tavern"?

19. What can you say of Washington's charity?

20. What kept Washington from financial ruin?

21. How did Washington look when at the meeting at Newburgh, New York?

22. How was the first President of the United States dressed when he made his formal visit to Congress?

23. What can you say of Washington's gravity?

24. What do you know of President Washington's public receptions?

25. How did the guests enjoy President Washington's grand dinners?

26. In what did Washington's greatness consist?

CHAPTER VI, PAGE 77 A MIDNIGHT SURPRISE

1. What sort of general was Washington?

2. What did General Clinton think of Washington?

3. What part of the country did Washington need to protect?

4. What did the British do in May, 1779?

5. Why was it important for the Americans to have possession of King's Ferry?

6. Where did the patriot army now take up its quarters?

7. How did the British soldiers act in Connecticut?

8. Why did General Clinton send out raiders?

9. Why did not Washington follow up Clinton's raiders?

10. What did Washington decide to do?

11. What kind of place was Stony Point?

12. Who had possession of Stony Point?

13. How was Stony Point defended?

14. How many soldiers were in the garrison at Stony Point?

15. What does Washington Irving say of Stony Point?

16. What name did the British give to Stony Point?

17. Who led the attack on Stony Point?

18. How old was General Anthony Wayne at this time?

19. How did Wayne look?

20. Why was Wayne called "Mad Anthony"?

21. What sort of soldier was Anthony Wayne?

22. What was Washington's plan of attack?

23. At what hour was the attack to be made?

24. What weapons were to be used in attacking Stony Point?

25. How many men were chosen to go to Stony Point?

26. What time of year was it now?

27. Why was the soldier put to death for loading his gun?

28. What sort of road was it to Stony Point?

29. When did the men learn where they were going?

30. What was the watchword?

31. What did Wayne write to his friend?

32. What did Pompey do?

33. How did Wayne divide his army to make the attack?

34. What is a "forlorn hope"? (Consult a large dictionary.)

35. How did the Americans show their good discipline?

36. What are pioneers? (Consult a large dictionary.)

37. What was the effect of having Colonel Murfree and his men appear in front of the fort?

38. How long did the fight last?

39. How many of the British escaped from Stony Point?

40. Why did not Washington hold Stony Point?

41. What effect did this victory have on the American soldier?

42. What did the British think of the "rebels"?

43. How did General Clinton take it all?

CHAPTER VII, PAGE 90 THE DEFEAT OF THE RED DRAGOONS

1. How did the patriots of the South get on in 1780?

2. What have we already learned about Sir Henry Clinton? (See the Index entry for Clinton.)

3. What were General Gates's "Northern laurels"? (See Chapter II.)

4. What sort of man was Gates? (Compare Chapter VIII.)

5. What effect did the crushing blows of the British have on the Southern patriots?

6. What orders did Tarleton and Ferguson receive from Lord Cornwallis?

7. What sort of man was Ferguson?

8. What threat did Ferguson send to the backwoodsmen?

9. What was the character of the Franklin and Holston settlers?

10. What is the name of the state that grew out of the Franklin and Holston settlements?

11. What have we already learned about the Holston settlements? (See Chapter I.)

12. What had become of the lawless men of the Franklin and Holston settlements?

13. What did the people do when they heard Ferguson's threat?

14. Where was the money got to buy supplies for the army?

15. What do you know of the gathering at Sycamore Shoals?

16. How were the backwoodsmen dressed?

17. What arms did the backwoodsmen have?

18. Who was Samuel Doak?

19. Why were the bands of pioneers put under one supreme commander?

20. Why did the backwoodsmen not find Ferguson at Gilberttown?

21. What kind of spirit did the pioneers show in their pursuit of Ferguson?

22. How far away were the patriots when Ferguson camped at King's Mountain?

23. Why did Ferguson choose King's Mountain for his camp?

24. How long were the riflemen in getting from Cowpens to King's Mountain?

25. What was the riflemen's plan of attack?

26. How was Ferguson killed?

27. Who succeeded Ferguson in command?

28. Why was this battle so fierce?

29. What was the effect of the victory at King's Mountain?

CHAPTER VIII, PAGE 105 FROM TEAMSTER TO MAJOR GENERAL

1. What have we already learned of Gates? (See the Index entry for Gates.)

2. Where was Daniel Morgan's home?

3. What kind of education did Morgan have?

4. Why was Morgan well thought of by the village people?

5. What kind of times were at hand?

6. Why did Morgan wish to fight the bully?

7. What is a drumhead court-martial? (Consult a large dictionary.)

8. What do you know of Morgan's strength?

9. Why did Morgan stop driving army wagons?

10. Why did Governor Dinwiddie object to promoting Morgan?

11. How did Morgan escape from the Indian?

12. What effect did the army life have on Morgan?

13. What can you say of Morgan's marriage?

14. What do you know of Morgan's religious life?

15. When was Morgan appointed captain?

16. How many men answered Morgan's call?

17. How long a march was it to Boston?

18. When was Morgan made a colonel?

19. What kind of regiment did Morgan command?

20. What was the duty of Morgan and his sharpshooters?

21. What have we already learned about Morgan at Saratoga, New York? (See Chapter II.)

22. How did the Hessians like Morgan's riflemen?

23. What did Burgoyne think of Morgan's regiment?

24. Why did Morgan leave the army for a while?

25. Why did Morgan return to the army?

26. When was Morgan made a brigadier general?

27. What do you remember about King's Mountain? (See the last half of Chapter VII.)

28. Why did the battle of Cowpens make Morgan so famous?

29. What does John Fiske say of this battle?

30. What do you know of Colonel Tarleton? (See Chapter VII.)

31. Where did Morgan get the names "old wagoner," "wagoner," and "teamster"? (See earlier in this chapter.)

32. Why did not Morgan meet Tarleton at once?

33. Why did Morgan choose Cowpens for his battle ground?

34. What did Tarleton do when the spy told him that Morgan had halted?

35. What was the condition of Morgan and his men when Tarleton appeared?

36. What was the condition of Tarleton's soldiers when they began the battle?

37. What did Tarleton do when defeat came?

38. What did the young ladies say to Tarleton?

39. How did Morgan outwit Lord Cornwallis?

40. Why did Morgan again retire from service?

41. When did Morgan again take part in the war?

42. What do you know about Wayne? (See Chapter VI.)

43. How was Morgan remembered by Washington and other leaders?

44. In how many battles did Morgan take part?

45. What was Morgan besides being a great soldier?

46. What was Morgan's success due to?

47. How is Morgan's valor commemorated?

CHAPTER IX, PAGE 123 THE FINAL VICTORY

1. What have you already learned about General Greene? (See Chapter VIII.)

2. What was the condition of Lord Cornwallis after his victory over Greene?

3. What did Cornwallis now do?

4. Where is Petersburg, Virginia? (See the map in Chapter VII.)

5. What was the nationality of Lafayette?

6. Where is Yorktown? (See the map in Chapter VII.)

7. Where was Washington at this time?

8. Where was the main part of the patriot army at this time?

9. What was Washington planning to do?

10. Who was Count de Grasse?

11. Why did news travel so slowly in those days?

12. Why did Washington need a fleet?

13. What did Washington hope to do with the assistance of the French fleet?

14. Where was Sir Henry Clinton at this time?

15. Why did Washington send troops to Long Island?

16. Why was the young minister sent through the Clove?

17. How were the Continental and French troops received at Philadelphia?

18. How large an army did Washington have in Virginia?

19. What have we already learned of Rochambeau? (See earlier in this chapter.)

20. When did Sir Henry Clinton begin to open his eyes?

21. How did the British fleet fare at Chesapeake Bay?

22. Why did not Lord Cornwallis retreat from Yorktown?

23. Why did the patriots hasten the siege of Yorktown?

24. What last attempt did Lord Cornwallis make?

25. Where did Lord Cornwallis have his headquarters?

26. What kind of man was Governor Nelson?

27. Where did Lord Cornwallis finally make his headquarters?

28. What message did Sir Henry Clinton send Lord Cornwallis?

29. How long did the siege of Yorktown continue?

30. Why did Lord Cornwallis wish a truce for so long a time?

31. What was Washington's reply to Lord Cornwallis?

32. How many soldiers were there in Cornwallis's army?

33. Why did not Cornwallis take part in the surrender?

34. Whom did Washington send to receive Cornwallis's sword?

35. Why did the armies hurry away from Yorktown?

36. How might Sir Henry Clinton have changed the history of Yorktown?

37. How did the people get news of the surrender?

38. How was the news received by the prime minister of England, and by the king?

39. What did King George say of the Yankees?

40. How is the surrender of Cornwallis commemorated?

CHAPTER X, PAGE 138 THE CRISIS

1. What battle began the war of the Revolution? (See Chapter I.)

2. How long did the war last?

3. What did Thomas Paine, the author of the pamphlet called "Common Sense," say of the Revolutionary War?

4. What does John Fiske say of our condition after peace was made?

5. Why did the colonies band together in 1774?

6. Why did the Continental Congress decline in power?

7. What is a federation? (Consult a large dictionary.)

8. Why did the people care so little about a federation, or federal government?

9. What did Washington say in his letter to the colonies?

10. What authority did the Continental Congress have?

11. What kind of men were delegates to the Continental Congress?

12. How long did the Continental Congress continue to act?

13. What was done by the Continental Congress?

14. What is a privateer? (Consult a large dictionary.)

15. What can you say of the Articles of Confederation?

16. What power did the Articles of Confederation grant to each state?

17. What power did Congress have under the Articles of Confederation?

18. How obedient were the states to the Articles of Confederation?

19. What was the condition of paper money in 1780?

20. How long had a soldier to serve before he could buy a bushel of wheat?

21. How did the states begin to treat each other?

22. What can you say of imprisonment for debt?

23. How did Washington and others begin to work out the problem of our national existence?

24. How successful was the meeting at Annapolis?

25. What further troubles occurred in 1786?

26. How was England affected by our troubles?

27. What prediction about our nation was made in Parliament?

28. What opinion of us did Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, have?