P7
PREFACE
The following Anecdotes were principally selected by a youth of twelve years of age. Having had constant access to a library well supplied with books on History and biography, he early acquired a taste for reading such works; and the present small volume is one of the results of such an attention to this species of literature. The selection was made at intervals between hours of devotion to elementary and classical study; and may hence be reviewed as having been rather an amusement, than a labor of painful toil and research.
The utility of compilations like the present is too well known to require particular commendation. They are always read with avidity, if well made; being mostly preferred to the most fascinating kinds of fiction; and what is far more important, they are among the most beneficial books to be found. They almost invariable create a taste for reading history and biography. Good anecdotes in these literary regions are analogous to the precious stones found in the bosom of the earth; which, though sparsely scattered, will long be sought with the most cheerful and untiring assiduity. A single case of success may cheer on the find and enthusiastic votary of these deeply bid treasure, even for months, amidst nothing but the mere rubbish that contains them.
So it is with persons in reading history and biography - they press forward, without apparent wearisomeness, through the more dull and uninteresting details, they that may here and there gather up these choice fragments. Nor is this all; by successive gleanings of such fragments, a desire will be created to examine the frames in which the pictures are enclosed; in other words, to know more of the characters of the individuals --and of the times --and of the historical events with which they are connected. It is believed, that the reading of a work like the present, will usually lead young persons, especially, to the study of larger and more systematic productions on all kindred subjects.
And, it may be added, that the brief and sententious remark, which commonly characterizes a good anecdote, will furnish a better index to the distinctive peculiarities of the individual that utters it, than a whole essay of dull and didactic description; it will cast a gleam of light on all his mental delineations not to be found otherwise, save in familiar personal acquaintance. This of itself would give value to the present effort to benefit the public, sufficient to balance all the labor it occasioned.
J. L. BLAKE
P9
INTRODUCTION
The American revolution should always be contemplated in reference to the great moral interests of this civilized world. There are important analogies between the physical and the social organizations of our globe. These analogies may not at once be apparent, in all their relations, to the superficial observer. But to the eye of the philosopher, their delineations are deeply and distinctly marked. They cannot be misapprehended; and they give a satisfactory solution in phenomena, that words otherwise remain inexplicable mysteries.
The remark has a thousand times been made, that to human apprehension, the organizations of the world, both physical and social, embrace a compound of good and evil. The proportions appear to vary under different circumstances, and to the ken of different individuals, as they may be severally constituted or predisposed. In each, after a due course of operation, certain developments are the necessary result. From these developments the philosopher becomes confirmed in a faith that he adopted as a matter of hypothesis; and from them likewise the Christian becomes confirmed in his faith which had been received from Divine revelation.
These observations are suggested as preliminary to a very brief exposition of the moral results of the American Revolution. Human warfare, especially in its more barbarous forms, is terrifying, even to the imagination. It can be justified only by the necessity for it, and the consequences flowing from its existence. We look upon it in the abstract, as we do upon the most frightful convulsions of nature. Here the elements are thrown into violent agitation; the earth inwardly moves as if in agony; the winds howl; the clouds blacken; the tempest rages; the lightning darts in flashes through the regions of space; we shrink back in terror at the threatening danger and the overwhelming grandeur of the scene; but how soon does all become quiet and beautiful! How soon does the whole become an impressive lesson in making known to us the wisdom and goodness of the Deity, beyond what could be known from the ordinary course of nature!
How illustrative is this of what we witness in the disorders of society! We cannot reflect upon human suffering with an unmoved heart. The view of a slaughtered army; the dying groans of the wounded; the tears and distress of the wife made a widow, and the mother made childless, in the progress of a civil war like that to which we are alluding, does verily overpower the stoutest minds, and cause a kind of paralysis to come over the social affections. But we know, after all, these desolations are usually succeeded by exhibitions of kindness and social virtue, and general prosperity, that would not otherwise have come into existence. Observation will satisfy every one that such is the fact. And philosophy may teach us, that amid all these evils a redeeming spirit will introduce us to a more enlarged and exalted state of enjoyment. This appears to be the governing law of the world.
Nor is this all. A more familiar, and still a more striking, illustration of the principle suggested, may be stated. The tender mother may nurture her daughters in the most delicate manner; may shudder at the idea of their becoming removed from the maternal roof, and from maternal assiduity and kindness, to encounter the frowns of adversity which may lurk in their path; and especially to endure the pains and the trials incident to womanhood. In her paroxysms of fearful anxiety she may even be disposed to restrain them within the reach of her affectionate protection, thereby securing them against the liabilities to personal suffering, and care, and anguish, which she has herself experienced. This is a case of no rare occurrence. There is no fiction in the picture. We have seen the reality hundreds of times.
But how ignorant is such a mother of the laws that govern human existence! Her love is ardent and sincere; but her philosophy is unsound. Were her fond imaginings, and her half-formed wishes to prevail, how imperfectly would these tender daughters subserve the great purpose of their being! --society would lose many of its most delightful charms; and the world itself could scarcely maintain its accustomed routine of beneficent existence. On the other hand, let them embark on the broad theatre of life; let them become mothers; let them exert their controlling and powerful influences upon the other sex; let generation thus succeed generation; and how much good is produced, compared with what would be seen, were she, in her mistaken kindness, to have thwarted the intentions of nature!
The indulgent father, too, may shudder at the idea of permitting his favorite inexperienced boys to become the victims of disappointment, and knavery, and insult, which may befall them, should they plunge into the whirlpool of business without his protection. But were his feelings, and not his reason, to regulate their destiny, in vain would he look for the enterprise and the vigorous capabilities in business that would crown them with success and honorable reputation, and to which the man of the world bends all his efforts. Without this training and these hazards, that are generally the lot of young men in the arena of the world's turmoils, and which make the kind father almost shudder, who would become powerful by the exertions of his intellect! Who would accumulate wealth and give employment and sustenance to the laboring classes of the community! Who would have the means to endow public institutions, and to make glad the unfortunate poor by uncounted benefactions!
Analogous to this is the case of our country, as connected with the revolution. The capabilities of a country in a colonial state can no more be developed, than physical and intellectual capabilities in man, while under the restraints of parental tutelage, to which allusion has been made. Had the American states remained in allegiance to the British government without resistance, thousands and thousands of violent deaths might have been prevented; floods of tears might have had no occasion to flow; countless numbers of bleeding and aching hearts might never have been pierced; and there might have been none of that general desolation now recorded in the history of that memorable crisis. Yet, these were the perils, and the agonies, that gave sinew, and strength and greatness, and manhood to the country.
Had it not been for them, the population of the now confederate states of the American Republic might not have been one third what it now is. Had it not been for them, the American Union would have been without that national character which now commands respect and reverence in every quarter of the globe. Had it not been for them, that spirit of American enterprise that now places the country, in national rank, and in fair competition for whatever is great and honorable and good, with the mother country, would never have existed. The American Revolution, therefore, may be considered one of the great agencies of Providence for renovating the condition of the world.
ANECDOTES
P15
MADAME SHATSWELL AND THE WHIG COMMITTEE
At the time of the war of the revolution, the lady of the manor, Ipswich, Massachusetts, was a descendant of Simon Bradstreet, one of the early governors of the province, whom Mother calls the "Nestor of New England." Her husband was a staunch whig, a leader of one of the classes into which the town was divided; and though the good lady coincided fully in his political sentiments, she did not much like the infringement upon domestic luxuries which many of the patriotic resolutions of the meeting contemplated.
In short, Madame Shatswell loved her cup of tea, and as a large store had been provided for family use before the tax, she saw no harm in using it as usual upon the table. There were in those days, as there are now, certain busybodies who kindly take upon themselves the oversight of their neighbors' affairs, and through them the news of the treason spread over the town. A committee from the people immediately called at the house to protest against the drinking of tea. Some months passed away, and one Sabbath, Madame Shatswell's daughter, a bright-eyed, coquettish damsel, appeared at church in a new bonnet. This was a new cause of excitement, and the committee came again to administer reproof.
The lady satisfied them again, however; and they, finding that the hat contained no treason to the people's cause, again departed. Two years of the war had now passed away, and meanwhile the daughter, Jeanette, had found a lover. It was the beginning of winter; the army had just gone into winter quarters; and the young suitor was daily expected home. Wishing to appear well in his eyes, the maiden had spun and woven with her own hands a new linen dress, from flax raised upon the homestead; and some old ribands long laid aside, having been washed and ironed to trim it withal, the damsel appeared in it at church the Sunday after her lover's arrival. Here was fresh cause of alarm, and forthwith on Monday morning came the officious committee, to remonstrate against the extravagance.
The old lady's spirit was now aroused, and she could contain herself no longer. "Do you come here," was her well-remembered reply --"do you come here to take me to task because my daughter wore a gown she spun and wove with her own hands! Three times have you interfered with my family affairs. Three times have you come to tell me that my husband would be turned out of his office. Now mark me! There is the door! As you came in, so you may go out! But if you ever cross my threshold again, you shall find that calling Hannah Bradstreet a tory, will not make her a coward!" It is needless to add that Madame Shatswell's family affairs were thereafter left to her own guidance.
P17
SPIRIT OF THE YANKEE BOYS
The British troops which were sent to Boston, to keep that rebellious town in order, were everywhere received with the most unequivocal marks of anger and detestation. During their stay "the very air seemed filled with suppressed breathings of indignation."
"The insolence and indiscretion of some subaltern officers increased the ill-will of the citizens; and vexations and quarrels multiplied daily." At this period of public exasperation, the boys were much in the habit of building hills of snow, and sliding from them to the pond in the Common. The English troops, from the mere love of tantalizing, destroyed all their labors. They complained of the injury, and industriously set about repairs. However, when they returned from school, they found the snow-hills again leveled.
Several of them now waited upon the British captain to inform him of the misconduct of his soldiers. No notice was taken of their complaint, and the soldiers every day grew more provokingly insolent. At last, they resolved to call a meeting of all the largest boys in town, and wait upon General Gage, commander-in-chief of the British forces. When shown into his presence, he asked, with some surprise, why so many children had called to see him. "We come, sire," said the foremost of them, "to claim a redress of grievances."
"What, have your fathers been teaching you rebellion, and sent you here to utter it!"
"Nobody sent us, sir," replied the speaker, while his cheek reddened, and his dark eye flashed: "we have never injured or insulted your troops; but they have trodden down our snow-hills, and broken the ice on our skating ground. We complained, and they called us young rebels, and told us to help ourselves, if we could. We told the captain of this, and he laughed at us.
"Yesterday our works were a third time destroyed; and now we will bear it no longer." General Gage looked at them with undisguised admiration, and turning to an officer who stood near, he exclaimed, "Good heavens! The very children draw in a love of liberty with the air they breath" --and added, "You may go, my brave boys; and be assured that if any of my troops hereafter molest you, they shall be severely punished."
P19
GENEROSITY OF JOHN HANCOCK
During the siege at Boston, General Washington consulted Congress upon the propriety of bombarding the town of Boston. Mr. Hancock was then President of Congress. After General Washington's letter was read, a solemn silence ensued. This was broken by a member making a motion that the House should resolve itself into a committee of the whole, in order that Mr. Hancock might give his opinion upon the important subject, as he was deeply interested from having all his estate in Boston. After he left the chair, he addressed the chairman of the committee of the whole, in the following words. "It is true, sir, nearly all the property I have in the world is in house and other real estate in the town of Boston; but if the expulsion of the British army from it, and the liberties of our country require their being burnt to ashes --issue the order for that purpose immediately!"
P19
SERGEANT SMITH AND HIS WHITE HORSE
As the very first exhibition of American courage, which proved so fatal to the British troops in their excursion to Lexington and Concord, Sergeant Smith showed himself a skillful marksman. Learning from rumor, which seemed to have spread that night with a speed almost miraculous, the destination of the detachment, he arose from his bed, equipped himself with cartridges and a famous rifle he had used at Lovell's fight at Fryeburg, saddled his horse, and started for Lexington meeting-house. Meeting with a variety of hindrances, and twice escaping narrowly from straggling parties of the red-coats, it was late when he arrived on the ground, and the troops were already on their rapid retreat towards Boston.
Learning that the people were all abroad, lining the fences and the woods to keep up the fire upon the enemy, he started in pursuit, and in the course of a few miles, on riding up a hill, he found the detachment just before him. Throwing the reins upon his horse, and starting him to full speed, he rode with a close rifle-shot and fired at one of the leading officers. The officer fell; and the sergeant, retreating to a safe distance, loaded his rifle again, and again rose up and fired, with equal success. He pursued the same course a third time, when the leader of the retreating body ordered a platoon to fire at him.
It was unavailing, however; and a fourth, fifth, and sixth time, the old rifle had picked off its man, while its owner retreated in safety. "D---n the man!" Exclaimed the officer, 'give me a musket, and I'll see if he bears a charmed life, if he comes in sight again." It was but a moment, and again the old white horse came over the brow of a hill. The officer fired, but in vain; before the smoke of his charge had cleared away, he too had fallen before the unerring marksman, and was left behind by his flying troops.
When the day had closed, the wounded were collected by the neighbors upon the road, and every kindness rendered to them. The officer was not dead, and on being laid upon a bed where his wounds could be examined, his first question, even under the apprehension of immediate death, was, "Who was that old fellow on the white horse!"
P21
ESCAPE OF PLUNKETT FROM THE BRITISH
Captain Plunkett, a high-spirited Irishman, whose attachment to the cause of liberty had led him to seek a commission in the continental army, had, by the chances of war, been compelled to give up his sword, and surrender himself a prisoner to the enemy. Previously to this untoward event, by the suavity of his manners, and uniformly correct conduct he had rendered himself an acceptable guest in many families in Philadelphia, and particularly so, to one of the society of Friends, who, however averse to warfare, were not insensible of the claims of those to their regard, who, by the exercise of manly and generous feelings, delighted to soften its asperities. There was among them a female, mild and gentle as a dove, yet, in firmness of mind, a heroine, and in personal charms, an angel. She saw the sufferings of the captive soldier, and under the influence of pity, or perhaps a more powerful passion, resolved, at all hazards, to relieve him. It accidentally happened that the uniform of Captain Plunkett's regiment bore a striking resemblance to that of a British corps, which was frequently set as a guard over the prison in which he was confined. A new suit of regimentals was in consequences procured and conveyed, without suspicion of sinister design, to the Captain.
On the judicious use of these rested the hopes of the fair Friend to give him freedom. It frequently happened that officers of inferior grade, while their superiors affected to shun all intercourse with rebels, would enter the apartments of the prisoners, and converse with them with kindness and familiarity, and then at their pleasure retire. Two sentinels constantly walked the rounds without, and the practice of seeing their officers walking in and out of the interior prison, became so familiar, as scarcely to attract notice, and constantly caused them to give way without hesitation, as often an officer showed a disposition to retire.
Captain Plunkett took advantage of this circumstance, and putting on his new coat, at the moment that the relief of the guard was taking place, sallied forth, twirling a switch carelessly about, and ordering the exterior door of the prison to be opened, walked without opposition into the street. Repairing without delay to the habitation of his fair friend, he was received with kindness, and for some days secreted and cherished with every manifestation of affectionate regard. To elude the vigilance of the British guards, if he attempted to pass into the country in his present dress, was deemed impossible.
Women's wit, however, is never at a loss for contrivances, while swayed by the influences of love or benevolence. Both, in this instance, may have aided invention. Plunkett had three strong claims in his favor; he was a handsome man -- a soldier -- and an Irishman. The general propensity of the Quakers in favor of the royal cause, exempted the sect in a great measure from suspicion; in so great a degree indeed, that the barriers of the city were generally entrusted to the ears of their members, as the best judges of the character of those persons that might be allowed to pass them, without injury to the British interests.
A female Friend, of low origin, officiating as a servant on a farm near the city , was in the family, on a visit to a relative. A pretext was formed to present her with a new suit of clothes, in order to possess that which she wore when she entered the city. Captain Plunkett was immediately disguised as a woman, and appeared at the barrier accompanied by his anxious deliverer. "Friend Roberts," said the enterprising enthusiast, "may this damsel and myself pass to visit a friend at a neighboring farm?" "Certainly,' said Roberts, "go forward." The city was speedily left behind, and Capt. Plunkett found himself safe, under the protection of colonel Allen M'Lean, his particular friend.
P24
THE SURGEON AND THE GHOST
A circumstance occurred during the encampment of General Lincoln at Perysburg, that from its singularity deserves to be recorded. A soldier named Fickling, by the irregularity of his conduct, long excited the indignation of his comrades, and at length, from repeated efforts to escape to the enemy, had been brought to trial, and condemned to death. It happened that, as he was led to execution, the surgeon-general of the army passed accidentally on his way to his quarters, which were at some distance off. On being tied up to the fatal tree, the removal of the ladder caused the rope to break, and the culprit fell to the ground.
This circumstance, to a man of better character, might have proved of advantage; but being universally considered as a miscreant, from whom no good would ever be expected a new rope was sought for, which Lieutenant Hamilton, the adjutant of the First Regiment, a stout and heavy man, essayed by every means, but without effect, to break. Fickling was then haltered, and again, turned off, when, to the astonishment of the bystanders, the rope untwisted, and he fell a second time, uninjured, to the ground. A cry for mercy was now general throughout the ranks, which occasioned Major Ludson, aid-de-camp to General Lincoln, to gallop to head-quarters, to make a representation of facts, which no sooner were stated, than an immediate pardon was granted, accompanied with the order that he should instantaneously be drummed, with every mark of infamy, out of camp, and threatened with instant death if ever he should, at any future time, be found attempting to approach it.
In the interim, the surgeon-general had established himself at his quarters, in a distant barn, little doubting but that the catastrophe was at an end, and that Fickling was quietly resting in the grave. Midnight was at hand, and he was busily engaged in writing, when hearing the approach of a footstep, he raised his eyes, and saw with astonishment the figure of the man who had, in his opinion, been executed, slowly with haggard countenance approaching towards him.
"How! How is this?" Exclaimed the doctor, in great terror. "Whence come you? What do you want with me! Were you not hanged this morning?: "Yes sir," replied the resuscitated man, "I am the wretch you saw going to the gallows, and who was hanged." "Keep your distance," said the doctor, "eat and welcome; but I beg of you, in future, to have a little more consideration, and not intrude so unceremoniously into the apartment of one who had every reason to suppose that you were an inhabitant of the tomb."
P26
SYMPATHY OF WASHINGTON
General Washington one day stopping for refreshment at a house in New Jersey, in which a wounded officer lay, who was sensitively agitated by the slightest noise, constantly spoke in an under tone of voice, and at the table, in every movement, evinced marked consideration for the sufferer. Retiring to another apartment at the conclusion of the meal, the gentlemen of his family, unrestrained by his presence, were less particular. They spoke in higher tones; when the general, who heard them with uneasiness, immediately returning, opened the door with great caution, and walking on tip-toe to the extremity of the apartment, took a book from the mantel-piece, and without uttering a word, again retired.
The gentlemen took the hint, so respectfully given, and silence ensued. This anecdote serves to relate, not only in this particular incident, but in every case, the sympathy manifested by the Father of his country when any individual was suffering from pain. He was considerate, affectionate, and kind, to the poor man as well as to the rich; his purse was ever open to the needy; forgiving, but firm, and a tower of justice; such was Washington.
P27
A MISTAKE TURNED TO A GOOD ACCOUNT
Some time previous to the evacuation of Charlestown, Colonel Menzies, of the Pennsylvania line, received a letter from a Hessian officer within the garrison, who had once been a prisoner, and treated by him with kindness, expressing an earnest desire to show his gratitude, by executing any commission with which he would please to honor him. Colonel Menzies replied to it, requesting him to send him twelve dozen cigars; but, being a German by birth, and little accustomed to express himself in English, he was not very accurate in his orthography, and write "sizars."
"'Twas no sooner said than done; "twelve dozen pairs of scissors were accordingly sent him, which, for a time, occasioned much merriment in the camp, at the expense of the Colonel, but no man knew better how to profit from the mistake. Money was not at the period in circulation; and by the aid of his runner, distributing his scissors over the country, in exchange for poultry, Menzies lived luxuriously, while the fare of his brother officers was a scanty pittance of famished beef, bull-frogs from ponds, and cray-fish from the neighboring ditches.
P28
GALLANTRY OF A YOUNG BOY
When Captain Falls, at the battle of Ramsour's mill, received a mortal wound and fell, his son, a youth of fourteen, rushed to the body, as the man who had shot him was preparing to plunder it; regardless of his opponent's strength, the intrepid youth, snatching up his father's sword, plunged it into the breast of the soldier, and laid him dead at his feet.
American Revolution
