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THE CHILD'S BOOK OF AMERICAN BIOGRAPHY
by
MARY STOYELL STIMPSON
Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill
[Illustration: He rode beside the coach on a chestnut horse.
FRONTISPIECE. _See Page 6._]
[Decoration]
Boston
Little, Brown, and Company
1924
Copyright, 1915,
By Little, Brown, and Company.
All rights reserved
Set up and electrotyped by J. S. Cushing Co., Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
FOREWORD
In every country there have been certain men and women whose busy lives
have made the world better or wiser. The names of such are heard so
often that every child should know a few facts about them. It is hoped
the very short stories told here may make boys and girls eager to learn
more about these famous people.
CONTENTS
PAGE
GEORGE WASHINGTON 1
WILLIAM PENN 9
JOHN PAUL JONES 17
JOHN SINGLETON COPLEY 27
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 36
LOUIS AGASSIZ 46
DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX 54
ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT 62
CLARA BARTON 75
ABRAHAM LINCOLN 81
ROBERT EDWARD LEE 91
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 98
ROBERT FULTON 106
GEORGE PEABODY 116
DANIEL WEBSTER 124
AUGUSTUS ST. GAUDENS 132
HENRY DAVID THOREAU 141
LOUISA MAY ALCOTT 149
SAMUEL FINLEY BREESE MORSE 155
WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT 164
PHILLIPS BROOKS 173
SAMUEL CLEMENS 181
JOE JEFFERSON 188
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 197
JAMES MCNEILL WHISTLER 204
RALPH WALDO EMERSON 215
JANE ADDAMS 222
LUTHER BURBANK 229
EDWARD ALEXANDER MACDOWELL 236
THOMAS ALVA EDISON 243
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
He rode beside the coach on a chestnut horse _Frontispiece_
PAGE
He began munching one of these as he went back
into the street 41
"How big is your trunk?" 88
He rode there on horseback 129
The poor fellow fell to the floor as if he were dead 166
He generally went out alone 221
THE CHILD'S BOOK OF AMERICAN BIOGRAPHY
GEORGE WASHINGTON
No one ever tells a story about the early days in America without
bringing in the name of George Washington. In fact he is called the
Father of our country. But he did not get this name until he was nearly
sixty years old; and all kinds of interesting things, like taming wild
colts, fighting Indians, hunting game, fording rivers, and commanding an
army, had happened to him before that. He really had a wonderful life.
George Washington was born in Virginia almost two hundred years ago.
Virginia was not a state then. Indeed, there were no states. Every
colony from Maine to Georgia was owned by King George, who sent men from
England to govern them.
At the time of George Washington's birth, Virginia was the richest of
the thirteen colonies. George's father, Augustine Washington, had a fine
old southern farmhouse set in the midst of a large tobacco plantation.
This farm of a thousand acres was on the Potomac River. The Washington
boys (George had two older brothers and several younger ones) had plenty
of room to play in, and George had a pony, Hero, of his own.
George was eleven years old when his father died, and his mother managed
the plantation and brought up the children. George never gave her any
trouble. He had good lessons at school and was willing to help her at
home. He was a fine wrestler and could row and swim. Indeed, he liked
the water so well, that he fancied he might lead the life of a sailor,
carrying tobacco from the Potomac River to England. He heard stories of
vessels meeting pirates and thought it would be very exciting. But his
English uncle warned Mrs. Washington that it would be a hard life for
her son, and she coaxed him to give up the idea.
George had shown that he could do the work of a man on the farm when he
was only sixteen. He was tall and strong and had a firm will. He had
great skill in breaking colts and understood planting and harvesting, as
well as tobacco raising. Being good at figures, he learned surveying.
Surveying is the science of measuring land so that an owner will know
just how much he has, how it lies, and what it adjoins, so that he can
cut it into lots and set the measurements all down on paper. George was
a fine land surveyor, and when he went to visit a half-brother, Lawrence
Washington, who had a beautiful new home on the Potomac, which he called
Mount Vernon, an English nobleman, Lord Fairfax, who owned the next
estate, hired George to go all over his land in Virginia and put on
paper for him the names of the people who lived in the Shenandoah
valley, the way the roads ran, and the size of his different
plantations. He really did not know how much land he owned, for King
Charles the Second had given an immense amount of land to his
grandfather. But he thought it was quite time to find out, and he was
sure George Washington was an honest lad who would do the work well.
Lord Fairfax spoke so highly of George that he was made surveyor of the
colony. The outdoor life, and the long tramps in the sunshine made
George's tall frame fill out, and he became one of the stoutest and
handsomest young men in the colony.
Lawrence Washington was ill and had to go to a warmer climate, so he
took George with him for help and company. Lawrence did not live and
left the eight-thousand-acre estate, Mount Vernon, to George. This made
George Washington a rich man at twenty.
The French and English began to discover that there was fine, rich land
on either side of the Ohio River, and each laid claim to it. Now the
Indians had been wandering through the forests of that region, camping
and fishing where they chose, and they felt the land belonged to them.
They grew ugly and sulky toward the English with whom up to this time
they had been very friendly. It looked as if there would be war.
"Some one must go and talk to these Frenchmen," said Dinwiddie, the
English governor at Virginia, "whom shall we send?"
Lord Fairfax, the old neighbor of George, answered: "I know just the man
you want. Your messenger must be young, strong, and brave. He must know
the country and be able to influence both the French and the Indians.
Send George Washington."
Washington served through these troubled times one year with Dinwiddie
and three years with General Braddock, an English general. Always he
proved himself brave. He had plenty of dangers. He was nearly drowned,
four bullets went crashing through his clothes, in two different battles
the horse on which he was riding was killed, but he kept calm and kept
on fighting. He was soon made commander-in-chief of all the armies in
Virginia.
After five hard years of fighting, Washington went back to Mount Vernon,
where he lived quietly and happily with a beautiful widow to whom he was
married a few weeks after meeting her. When he and his bride rode home
to Mount Vernon, she was dressed in white satin and wore pearl jewels.
Her coach was drawn by six white horses. Washington was dressed in a
suit of blue, lined with red satin and trimmed with silver lace. He rode
beside the coach on a chestnut horse, with soldiers attending him.
Mrs. Washington had two children, Jack Custis, aged six, and Martha, who
was nicknamed Patty, aged four. George Washington was very fond of these
children, and one of the first things he did after they came to Mount
Vernon was to send to England for ten shillings' worth of toys, six
little books, and a fashionable doll. Patty broke this doll, but
Washington only laughed and ordered another that was better and larger.
George Washington was having a fine time farming, raising horses and
sheep, having the negro women weave and spin cloth and yarn, carrying on
a fishery, and riding over his vast estate, when there was trouble
between the colonists and England. Again a man was needed that was
brave, wise, and honest. And when the colonists decided to fight unless
the king would either stop taxing them or let them vote in Parliament,
they said: "George Washington must be our commander-in-chief." So he
left his wife, children, and home, and led the American troops for seven
years.
The colonists won their freedom from the English yoke, but they knew if
they were to govern themselves, they needed a very wise man at their
head. They made George Washington the first President of the United
States of America. Of course it pleased him that such honor should be
shown him, but he would have preferred to be just a Virginian farmer at
Mount Vernon. However, he went to New York and took the oath of
office--that is he promised, as all presidents have to, to work for the
good of the United States. He was dressed in a suit of dark brown cloth
(which was made in America) with knee-breeches and white silk stockings,
and shoes with large silver buckles. He wore a sword at his side, and as
the sun shone on his powdered hair, he looked very noble and handsome.
He kissed the Bible as he took the oath; the chancellor lifted his hand
and shouted: "Long live George Washington, President of the United
States."
The people did some wild cheering, cannons boomed, bells rang, hats were
tossed in the air, and there was happiness everywhere.
America had her first President!
Washington ruled the people for eight years wisely and well. He was
greatly beloved at home and he was praised in other countries. A German
ruler said Washington was the greatest general in the world. A prime
minister of England said Washington was the purest man in history. But
we like to say Washington was the Father of our country, and we like to
remember that he said: "Do justice to all, but never forget that we are
Americans!"
WILLIAM PENN
When Charles the Second was King of England, there lived in London a
wealthy admiral of the British navy, Sir William Penn. He had been such
a brave sailor that he was a favorite at court. He had a son who was a
handsome, merry lad, whom he meant to educate very highly, for he knew
the king would find some great place for him in his kingdom.
So young William was sent early to school and college, where he learned
Greek and Latin, French, German, and Dutch. He was quick motioned and
strong. At Oxford College there was hardly a student who could equal him
in swimming, rowing, and outdoor sports. His father grew prouder and
prouder of his son each day. "William," he said to himself, "will do
honor to me, to his king, and to his country." And he kept urging money
and luxuries upon his son, whom he dressed like a prince.
Imagine the Admiral's despair when he learned one morning that his son
was hobnobbing with the Quakers! Just then a new sect of religious
people who called themselves Quakers, or Friends, had sprung up in
England. They were much despised. A Quaker believed that all men are
equal, so he never took his hat off to any one, not even the king. The
Quakers would not take an oath in court; would not go to war or pay
money in support of war; always said "thee" and "thou" in addressing
each other, and wore plain clothes and sober colors. They thought they
ought always to act as their consciences told them to.
In England and Massachusetts, Quakers were treated like criminals. Some
of them were put to death. But the more they were abused, the more their
faith became known, and the more followers they had.
A traveling Quaker preacher went to Oxford, and when young William Penn
heard him, he decided that he had found a religion that suited him. He
stopped going to college services, declared he would not wear the
college gown, and even tore the gowns from other students. He was
expelled from Oxford.
The Admiral was very angry. He told his son he had disgraced him. But he
knew William had a strong will, and instead of having many harsh words
with him, sent his son off to Paris. "I flatter myself," laughed the
Admiral, "that in gay, fashionable Paris, William will soon forget his
foolish ideas about the Quakers."
The young people of Paris made friends with William at once, for he was
handsome and jolly. He was eighteen years old. He had large eyes and
long dark hair which fell in curls about his shoulders. For a time he
entered into all the gay doings of Paris and spent a long time in Italy.
So when he returned to England, two years later, his father nodded
approval at the change in his looks and ways. He seemed to have
forgotten the new religion entirely. But presently an awful plague swept
over London, and William grew serious again. The Admiral now packed the
boy off to Ireland. He was bound to stop this Quaker business.
There was some kind of a riot or war in Ireland, and William fought in
the thickest of it, for he liked to be in the midst of whatever was
going on. One evening he heard that the old Quaker preacher he had liked
at Oxford was preaching near by. He, with some other soldiers, went to
hear him, and all his love for the Quaker faith came back to him, and he
joined the society. He was imprisoned with other Quakers, and then his
father said he would never speak to him again. But he really loved his
son and was so pleased when he got out of prison that he agreed to
forgive him, if he would only promise to take off his hat when he met
his father, the king, or the Duke of York. But after young William had
thought about it, he told his father that he could not make such a
promise.
William was sometimes in prison, sometimes driven from home by his
father, then forgiven for the sake of his mother; often he was tired out
with writing and preaching, but he kept true to his belief.
When William's father died, he left his son great wealth, which he used
for the good of others, especially the Quakers. William knew the Crown
owed the Admiral nearly a hundred thousand dollars. As the king was
something of a spendthrift, it was not likely that the debt would be
paid very soon, so William asked the king to pay him in land. This the
monarch was glad to do, so he granted an immense tract of land on the
Delaware River, in America, to the Admiral's son.
William planned to call this tract Sylvania, or Woodland, but when King
Charles heard this, he said: "One thing I insist on. Your grant must be
called after your father, for I had great love for the brave Admiral."
Thus the name decided on was Pennsylvania (Penn's Woods).
William Penn lost no time in sending word to all the Quakers in England
that in America they could find a home and on his land be free from
persecution. As many as three thousand of them sailed at once for
America, and the next year William visited his new possessions. He did
not know just how the tract might please him, so he left his wife and
child behind, in England. He laid out a city himself on the Delaware
River and called it the City of Brotherly Love, because he hoped there
would be much love and harmony in the colony of Quakers. The other name
for city of brotherly love is Philadelphia. If you visit this city
to-day, you will find many of its streets bearing the names William Penn
gave them more than two hundred years ago. Some of these are Pine,
Mulberry, Cedar, Walnut, and Chestnut streets.
Of course Indians were to be found along all the rivers in the American
colonies. Penn really owned the land along the Delaware, but he thought
it better to pay them for it as they had held it so many years, so he
called a council under a big tree, where he shook hands with the red men
and said he was of the same blood and flesh as they; and he gave them
knives, beads, kettles, axes, and various things for their land. The
Indians were pleased and vowed they would live in love with William Penn
as long as the moon and sun should shine. This treaty was never broken.
And one of the finest things to remember about William Penn is his
honesty with the much persecuted Indians.
Penn left the Quaker colony after a while and went back to England. But
he returned many years later with his wife and daughter. He had two fine
homes, one in the city of Philadelphia, the other in the country. At the
country home there was a large dining-hall, and in it Penn entertained
strangers and people of every color and race. At one of his generous
feasts his guests ate one hundred roast turkeys.
Penn, who was so gentle and loving to all the world, had many troubles
of his own. One son was wild and gave him much anxiety. He himself was
suspected of being too friendly with the papist King James, and of
refusing to pay his bills. For one thing and another, he was cast into
prison until he lost his health from the cold, dark cells. It seems
strange that the rich, honest William Penn should from boyhood be doomed
to imprisonment because of his religion, his loyalty, and from trying
to obey the voice of his conscience. While he was not born in this
country, the piety and honesty of William Penn will always be remembered
in America.
JOHN PAUL JONES
Along the banks of the River Dee, in Scotland, the Earls of Selkirk
owned two castles. John Paul was landscape gardener at Saint Mary's
Isle, and his brother George made the grounds beautiful at the Arbigland
estate. Little John Paul stayed often with his uncle. At either place he
could see the blue water, and he loved everything about it. At Arbigland
he watched the ships sail by and could see the English mountains in the
distance. From the sailors he heard all kinds of sea stories and tales
of wild border warfare. When a tiny child, he used to wander down to the
mouth of the river Nith and coax the crews of the sailing vessels to
tell him stories. They liked him and taught him to manage small
sailboats. He quickly learned sea phrases and used to climb on some high
rock and give off orders to his small play-fellows, or perhaps launch
his boat alone upon the waters and just make believe that he had a crew
of men on board with whom he was very stern.
For a few years this son of the Scotch gardener went to parish school,
but his mind was filled with the wild stories of adventure, and he
longed to see the world. John had a feeling that his life was going to
be exciting, and he could not keep his mind on his books some days. He
was not sorry when his mother told him that as times were hard, he must
leave school and go to work.
John's older brother, William, had gone to America, and his uncle George
had ceased working for the Earls of Selkirk because he had saved enough
money to go to America. He was a merchant, with a store of his own in
South Carolina.
John heard such glowing accounts of men getting rich and famous in that
land across the sea that he felt it must be almost like fairy-land.
Think how pleased he must have been when at the age of twelve he shipped
aboard the ship _Friendship_, bound for Virginia! And best of all, this
ship anchored a few miles from Fredericksburg, where his brother lived.
When in port, John stayed with William. He loved America from the first
moment he saw a bit of her coast, and he never left off loving our
country as long as he lived.
John went back and forth from America to Scotland on the _Friendship_ a
great many times. He had made up his mind that he would always go to
sea, and he meant to understand everything about ships, countries to
which they might sail, and all laws about trading in different ports. So
he studied all the books he could get hold of that would teach him these
things.
Sometimes he changed vessels, shipping with a different captain.
Sometimes he went to strange countries. But he was one who kept his eyes
open, and he learned to be more and more skilful in all sea matters.
About two years before the Revolutionary War, he was feeling
discouraged. He knew his employers were pirates in a way. He had met
with some trouble on his last voyage, so that he knew it was best not to
go to his brother's when he reached North Carolina from the West
Indies, and that he had best avoid using his own name. As he sat alone
on a bench in front of a tavern one afternoon, his head in his hands, a
jovial, handsome man came along. The man was well dressed, a
kind-hearted, rich Southerner. He hated to see people unhappy. After he
had passed John Paul, he turned back and going close to him, asked:
"What's your name, my friend?"
"I have none," was the answer.
"Where's your home?"
"I have none."
The stranger was struck with the face and figure of John Paul and
noticed that his handsome black eyes had a commanding expression. He
said to himself: "Here is a lad that will be of importance some day, or
my name is not Willie Jones!"
Then Willie Jones took John by the arm and said: "Come home with me. My
home is big enough for us both."
This was quite true, for Willie Jones had a beautiful estate called "The
Grove." The house was like a palace with its immense drawing-rooms,
wide fireplaces, carved halls, and spacious dining-room which overlooked
the owner's race track. For Willie Jones owned blooded horses, went to
country hunts, played cards, and had overseers to manage his fifteen
hundred slaves, who worked in Jones's tobacco fields and salt mines. His
clothes were of the first quality and his linen fine.
On a neighboring estate across the river lived Willie's brother, Allen
Jones. He was married to a dark-eyed beauty who gave parties in her
large ballroom, and who led the minuets and gavottes better than any of
her guests.
Just as John Paul had been at home on the estates of the Earl of Selkirk
in Scotland, he was now at home on both these southern plantations. By
both families he was petted and soon beloved. He seemed like one of
their own blood.
The people of North Carolina talked constantly of Liberty. They declared
themselves anxious to be independent of England. Soon after the famous
Boston Tea-party, the women of North Carolina pledged their word to
drink no more tea that was taxed.
John Paul took the same stand as his good friends. And he more than ever
felt he was born to do great deeds. And he hoped to prove his gratitude
to the Joneses by winning fame. From this time he took the name of John
Paul Jones. All his navy papers are signed that way. And he became an
American citizen.
Paul Jones's rise was rapid. In 1776 he became a lieutenant in the
Continental navy. The colonists had but five armed vessels; the
_Alfred_, on which Paul Jones served, was one of them. These five ships
were the beginning of the American navy. The captain of the _Alfred_ was
slow in reaching his vessel, and so Paul Jones had to get the ship ready
for sea. He was so quick and sure in all his acts that the sailors all
liked him.
The ship was visited by the commodore of the squadron of five ships. He
found everything in such fine condition that he said: "My confidence in
you is so great that if the captain does not reach here by the time we
should get away, I shall hoist my flag on your ship and give you command
of her!"
"Thank you, Commodore," and Paul bowed, "when your flag is hoisted on
the _Alfred_, I hope a flag of the United Colonies will fly at the peak.
I want to be the man to raise that flag on the ocean."
The commodore laughed and replied: "As Congress is slow, I am afraid
there will not be time to make a flag after it actually decides what
that shall be."
"I think there will, Sir," answered Paul Jones.
It seems he knew almost for a certainty that the Continental Congress
had planned their first flag of the Revolution. It was to be of yellow
silk, showing a pine tree with a rattlesnake under it, and bearing the
daring motto: "Don't tread on me." Paul Jones had bought the material to
make one, out of his own pocket, and Bill Green, a quarter-master, sat
up all night to cut and sew the cloth into a flag.
Captain Saltonstall arrived in time to take command, but Paul Jones kept
his disappointment to himself and faithfully did the lieutenant's
duties. He had been drilling the men, and when the commodore came again
to inspect the ship, some four hundred, with one hundred marines, were
drawn up on deck. Bill Green and Paul Jones were very busy for a minute,
and just as the commodore came over the ladder at the ship's side, the
flag with the pennant flew up the staff, under Paul Jones's hand. Every
man's hat came off, the drummer boys beat a double ruffle on the drums,
and _such_ cheers burst from every throat!
The commodore said to Paul Jones: "I congratulate you; you have been
enterprising. Congress adopted that flag but yesterday, and this one is
the first to fly."
Bill Green was thanked, too, and the squadron sailed for the open sea,
the _Alfred_ leading the way.
Paul Jones was very daring, but his judgment and knowledge were so
perfect that in the twenty-three great battles which he fought upon the
seas, though many times wounded, he was never defeated. He made the
American flag, which he was the first to raise, honored, and he kept it
flying in the Texel with a dozen, double-decked Dutch frigates
threatening him in the harbor, while another dozen English ships were
waiting just beyond to capture him. He was offered safety if he would
hoist the French colors and accept a commission in the French navy, but
he never wavered. It was his pride to be able to say to the American
Congress: "I have never borne arms under any but the American flag, nor
have I ever borne or acted under any commission except that of the
Congress of America."
Paul Jones served without pay and used nearly all of his private fortune
for the cause of independence. Congress made him the ranking officer of
the American navy and gave him a gold medal. France conferred the cross
of a military order upon him and a gold sword. It was a beautiful day
when this cross was given him. The French minister gave a grand fête in
Philadelphia. All Congress was there, army and navy officers, citizens,
and sailors who had served under Jones. Against the green of the trees,
the uniforms of the officers and the white gowns of the ladies showed
gleamingly.
Paul Jones wore the full uniform of an American captain and his gold
sword. He carried his blue and gold cap in his hand. A military band
played inspiring airs as the French minister and Paul Jones walked
toward the center of the lawn. Paul Jones was pale but happy. He was
receiving an honor never before given a man who was not a citizen of
France, but as his eyes lighted on the stars and stripes floating above
him, they filled with tears, for his greatest joy of all was that he had
left the sands of Dee to become a citizen and defender of his beloved
America.
JOHN SINGLETON COPLEY
When the city of Boston, Massachusetts, was just a small town in which
there were no schools where boys and girls could learn to draw and
paint, one little fellow by the name of John Singleton Copley was quite
sure to be waiting at the door when his stepfather, Peter Pelham, came
home to dinner or supper, to ask why the pictures he had been drawing of
various people did not look like them. Peter Pelham could nearly always
tell John what the matter was, because he knew a good deal about
drawing. He made maps and engravings himself.
John remembered what his stepfather told him and practised until he made
really fine drawings. Then he began to color them. He did love gay
tints, and as both men and women wore many buckles and jewels, and
brocades and velvets of every hue in those days, he could make these
portraits as dazzling as he chose.
There is no doubt John loved to make pictures. He had drawn many a one
on the walls of his nursery when he was scarcely more than a baby. He
later covered the blank pages and margins of his school-books with faces
and animals. And instead of playing games with the other boys in
holidays, he was apt to spend such hours with chalks and paints.
When John was fourteen or fifteen, his portraits were thought so
lifelike that Boston people paid him good prices for them. He was glad
to earn money, for his kind stepfather died, leaving his wife to the
care of John and his stepbrother, Henry. He had been working and saving
for years when he married the daughter of a rich Boston merchant. This
wife, Suzanne, was a beautiful girl, proud of her husband's talent and
anxious for him to get on in the world. The artist soon bought a house
on Beacon Hill which had a fine view from its windows. He called this
estate, which covered eleven acres, his "little farm." You can guess how
large it looked when I tell you that the farm is to-day practically the
western side of Beacon Hill.
The young couple were happy and must have prospered, for a man who saw
the house on the hill wrote to his friends: "I called on John Singleton
Copley and found him living in a beautiful home on a fine open common;
dressed in red velvet, laced with gold, and having everything about him
in handsome style." It is evident John still liked bright colors.
John had never seen any really good paintings; he had never had any
teacher; and he longed to see the works of the old masters in other
countries. But at first he did not want to leave his old mother; then it
was the young wife who kept him here; and by and by he felt he could not
be away from his own dear little children, so it was not until he was
nearly forty that he went abroad.
In one of the first letters that Suzanne got from her husband he told of
the fine shops in Genoa. She laughed when she read that in a few hours
after he landed he bought a suit of black velvet lined with crimson
satin, lace ruffles for his neck and sleeves, and silk stockings. "I'd
know," she said to herself, "the suit would have a touch of
crimson--John does love rich colors!"
All his letters told how wonderful he found the old paintings and often
described his attempts to copy them. After he had visited the galleries
and museums of Italy, he went to England. He was delighted to find that
his wife and family had already fled there because of the Revolution in
America. He had heard of the trouble between the Colonists in America
and England and had worried night and day for fear harm would come to
Suzanne and the children. Of course he worried about the "little farm"
too, but it was no time to go back to Boston, and he could only hope his
agent would protect it.
The Copleys liked London, but some days they felt homesick for Beacon
Hill. Still he must keep earning money, and there were plenty of English
people who wanted to sit for their portraits, while of course, with the
fierce Revolution raging, and with soldiers camping everywhere, Boston
people did not care much about having their pictures painted.
In London John began to paint pictures that showed events in history.
Sometimes he would take for a subject a famous battle, sometimes a scene
from the English Parliament, or perhaps a king or lord doing some act
which we have read about in their lives. These pictures were immense in
size and took a long time to do, because Copley was particular to have
everything exactly true. George the Third was so much pleased with his
work that when he was going to paint the large work "The Siege of
Gibraltar", his Majesty sent him, with his wife and eldest daughter, to
Hanover, to take the portraits of four great generals of that country,
who had proved their bravery and skill on the rock of Gibraltar. All the
uniforms, swords, banners, and scenery were as perfect as if Copley had
been at the siege himself, and the officers' faces were just like
photographs. The king was very kind and generous. He told Copley not to
hurry back to England but to enjoy Hanover thoroughly, and to give his
wife and daughter a holiday they would never forget. To enable Copley to
go into private homes and look at art treasures which the public never
saw, the king gave him a letter asking this courtesy, written with his
own hand.
This large canvas, "The Siege of Gibraltar", is owned by the city of
London. There is another huge painting, "The Death of Lord Chatham", at
Kensington Museum, which Americans like to see. It shows old Lord
Chatham falling in a faint at the House of Lords. The poor man was too
sick to be there, but he was a strong friend to the American Colonies
and had declared over and over again that the king ought not to tax
them. When he heard there was to be voting on the question, he rose from
his bed and drove in a carriage to the House to say once more how wicked
it was. The members of the House of Lords look very imposing with their
grave faces and robes of scarlet, trimmed with ermine, but they
sometimes act in a childish manner and show temper. One man who almost
hated Chatham for so defending the Colonies sat as still as if he were
carved out of stone when the poor old lord dropped to the floor. This
picture shows him sitting as cold and stiff as a ramrod while all the
other members have sprung to their feet or have rushed to help the
fainting man.
The Boston Public Library holds one of Copley's historical pictures. It
shows a scene from the life of Charles the First of England. He is
standing in the speaker's chair in the House of Commons, demanding
something which the speaker, kneeling before him, is unwilling to tell.
There is plenty of chance for John Copley to show his love for brilliant
coloring, for the suits of the king, his nephew, Prince Rupert, and his
followers are of velvets and satins, the slashed sleeves showing facings
of yellow, cherry, and green. The knee breeches are fastened with
buckles over gaudy silk stockings and high-heeled slippers. The men wear
deep collars of lace, curled wigs, and velvet hats with sweeping plumes.
But in a picture at Buckingham Palace called "The Three Princesses"
there is a riot of color. The scene is a garden, beyond which the towers
of Windsor Castle show, with the flag of England floating above it;
there are fruit-trees and flowers, parrots of gay plumage, and pet dogs.
The little girls' gowns are rainbow-like, and one of them is dancing to
the music of a tambourine. It is a darling picture, and the royal couple
prized it greatly.
When John Copley was only a young man, he sent a picture from Boston to
England, asking that it might be placed on exhibition at the Royal
Academy. It was called "The Boy and the Flying Squirrel." The boy was a
portrait of his half-brother, Henry Pelham. Copley sent no name or
letter, and it was against the rules of the Academy to hang any picture
by an unknown artist, but the coloring was so beautiful that the rule
was broken, and crowds stopped before the Boston lad's canvas to admire
it. When it was discovered that John Copley painted it, and it was known
he had received no lessons at that time, he was urged to go abroad at
once. At the time he could not. But the praise encouraged him to keep
on, and before he had a chance to visit Italy, he had painted nearly
three hundred pictures. Nearly all of these were painted at the "little
farm" on Beacon Hill, when he or Suzanne would hardly have dreamed the
day would come when he should be the favorite of kings and courts.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
One of the greatest Americans that ever lived was Benjamin Franklin. The
story of his life sounds like a fairy tale. Though he stood before
queens and kings, dressed in velvet and laces, before he died, he was
the son of a poor couple who had to work very hard to find food and
clothes for their large family--for there were more than a dozen little
Franklins!
Benjamin Franklin was born in Boston, one bright Sunday morning more
than two hundred years ago. That same afternoon his father took the baby
boy across the street to the Old South Church, to be baptized. He was
named for his uncle Benjamin, who lived in England.
As Benjamin grew up, he made friends easily. People liked his eager face
and merry ways. He was never quiet but darted about like a kitten. The
questions he asked--and the mischief he got into! But the neighbors
loved him. The women made little cakes for him, and the men were apt to
toss him pennies.
One day when Benjamin was about seven, some one gave him all the pennies
he could squeeze into one hand. Off he ran to the toy shop, but on his
way he overtook a boy blowing a whistle. Ben thought that whistle was
the nicest thing he had ever seen and offered his handful of pennies for
it. The boy took them, and Ben rushed home with his prize. Well, he
tooted that whistle all over the house until the family wished there had
never been a whistle in the world. Then an older brother told him he had
paid the other boy altogether too much for it, and when Ben found that
if he had waited and bought it at a store, he would have had some of the
pennies left for something else, he burst out crying. He did not forget
about this, either. When he was a grown man and was going to buy
something, he would wait a little and say to himself: "Careful,
now--don't pay too much for your whistle!" An Italian sculptor who had
heard this story made a lovely statue called "Franklin and his Whistle."
If you happen to be in the beautiful Public Library in Newark, New
Jersey, you must ask to see it.
Ben always loved the water and was a wonderful swimmer as a little
fellow. He could manage a boat, too, and spent half his play hours down
at the wharves. One day he had been flying kites, as he often did, and
thought he would see what would happen if he went in swimming with a
kite tied to his waist. He tried it and the kite pulled him along
finely. If he wanted to go slowly, he let out a little bit of string. If
he wanted to move through the water fast, he sent the kite up higher in
the air.
But it was in school that Ben did his best. He studied so well that his
father wanted to make a great scholar of him, but there was not money
enough to do this, so when he was ten he had to go into his father's
soap and candle shop to work. The more he worked over the candles, the
worse he hated to, and by and by he said to his father: "Oh, let me go
to sea!"
"No," said Mr. Franklin, "your brother ran away to sea. I can't lose
another boy that way. We will look up something else."
So the father and son went round the city, day after day, visiting all
kinds of work-shops to see what Benjamin fancied best. But when it
proved that the trade of making knives and tools, which was what pleased
Benjamin most, could not be learned until Mr. Franklin had paid one
hundred dollars, that had to be given up, like the school. There was
never any spare cash in the Franklin purse.
As James Franklin, an older brother, had learned the printing business
in England and had set up an office in Boston, Ben was put with him to
learn the printer's trade. Poor Ben found him a hard man to work for. If
it had not been for the books he found there to read and the friends who
loaned him still more books, he could not have stayed six months. But
Ben knew that since he had to leave school when he was only ten, the
thing for him to do was to study by himself every minute he could get.
He sat up half the nights studying. When he needed time to finish some
book, he would eat fruit and drink a glass of water at noon, just to
save a few extra minutes for studying. James never gave him a chance for
anything but work; it seemed as if he could not pile enough on him. When
he found Ben could write poetry pretty well, he made him write ballads
and sell them on the streets, putting the money they brought into his
own pocket. He was very mean to the younger brother, and when he began
to strike Ben whenever he got into a rage, the boy left him.
Benjamin went to New York but found no work there. He worked his way to
Philadelphia. By this time his clothes were ragged. He had no suitcase
or traveling bag and carried his extra stockings and shirts in his
pockets. You can imagine how bulgy and slack he looked walking through
the streets! He was hungry and stepped into a baker's for bread. He had
only one silver dollar in the world. But he must eat, whether he found
work or not. When he asked for ten cents' worth of bread, the baker gave
him three large loaves. He began munching one of these as he went
back into the street. As his pockets were filled with stockings and
shirts, he had to carry the other two loaves under his arms. No wonder a
girl standing in a doorway giggled as he passed by! Years afterwards,
when Franklin was rich and famous, and had married this very girl, the
two used to laugh well over the way he looked the first time she saw
him.
[Illustration: He began munching one of these as he went back into the
street. _Page 41._]
After one or two useless trips to England, Franklin settled down to the
printing business in Philadelphia. He was the busiest man in town.
Deborah, his wife, helped him, and he started a newspaper, a magazine, a
bookstore; he made ink, he made paper, even made soap (work that he
hated so when a boy!). Then he published every year an almanac. Into
this odd book, which people hurried to buy, he put some wise sayings,
which I am sure you must have heard many times. Such as: "Haste makes
waste"; "Well done is better than well said"; and "Early to bed and
early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise."
Franklin and his wife did so many things and did them well that they
grew rich. So when he was only forty-two, Franklin shut up all his shops
and took his time for studying out inventions. When you hear about the
different things he invented, you will not wonder that the colleges in
the country thought he ought to be honored with a degree and made him
Doctor Franklin. Here are some of his inventions: lightning-rods,
stoves, fans to cool hot rooms, a cure for smoking chimneys, better
printing-presses, sidewalks, street cleaning. He opened salt mines and
drained swamps so that they were made into good land. Then he founded
the first public library, the first police service, and the first fire
company. Doesn't it seem as if he thought of everything?
But better than all, Franklin always worked for the glory of America.
When King George was angry and bitter against our colonies, Franklin
went to England and stood his ground against the king and all his
council. He said the king had no right to make the colonies pay a lot of
money for everything that was brought over from England unless they had
some say as to how _much_ money it should be. If they paid taxes, they
wanted to vote. They were not willing to be just slaves under a hard
master.
"Very well, then," said the council, "then you colonists can't have any
more clothes from England."
Mr. Franklin answered back: "Very well, then, we will wear old clothes
till we can make our own new ones!"
In a week or so word was sent from England that clothing would not be
taxed, and the colonists had great rejoicings. They built bonfires, rang
bells, and had processions; and Benjamin Franklin's name was loudly
cheered.
But England still needed money and decided to make the colonists pay a
tax on tea and a few other things. Then the American colonists were as
angry as they could be. They tipped the whole cargo of tea into Boston
Harbor, and in spite of Franklin's trying to make the king and the
colonists understand each other, there was a long war (it is called the
Revolutionary War) and it ended in the colonists declaring themselves
independent of Great Britain. A paper telling the king and the world
that the colonists should not obey the English rule any longer, but
would make laws of their own was signed by men from all thirteen
colonies. Benjamin Franklin was one of the men from Pennsylvania who
signed it. As this paper--The Declaration of Independence--was first
proclaimed July 4, 1776, the people always celebrate the fourth day of
July throughout the United States.
Franklin was postmaster-general of the colonies; he was our first
minister to the Court of France, the governor (or president, as the
office was then called) of Pennsylvania, and helped, more than almost
any other man, to make America the great country she is.
Franklin was admired in France and England for his good judgment and
clever ideas. Pictures of him were shown in public places; prints of his
face were for sale in three countries; medallions of his head were set
in rings and snuff-boxes; he traveled in royal coaches, and was treated
like a prince. But although it was "the Great Doctor Franklin" here, and
"the Noble Patriot" there, he did not grow vain. Benjamin Franklin was
just a modest, good American!
LOUIS AGASSIZ
Louis Agassiz was a Swiss boy who knew how to keep his eyes open. Some
people walk right by things without seeing them, but Louis kept a sharp
lookout, and nothing escaped him.
Louis was born in a small Swiss village near a lake. His father was a
minister and school teacher. His mother was a fine scholar and was very
sure that she wanted her children to love books, but two brothers of
Louis's had died and she meant to have Louis and another son, Auguste,
get plenty of play and romping in the fields so that they would grow up
healthy and strong, first of all; there would be time for study
afterwards.
The Agassiz boys had a few short lessons in the morning with their
father or mother, and then they roamed through the woods and fields the
rest of the day. Of course they found plenty to interest them and never
came home from these jaunts with empty hands. They had pet mice, birds,
rabbits, and fish.
There was a stone basin in his father's yard, with spring water flowing
through it. In this Louis put his fish and then watched their habits. As
I told you, nothing escaped his eyes. He proved this more than once.
It was the custom in Swiss cantons for different kinds of workmen to
travel from house to house, making such things at the door as each
family might need. Louis watched the cobbler, and after he had gone away
surprised his sister with a pair of boots he himself had made for her
doll. And after the cooper had made his father some casks and barrels,
Louis made a tiny, water-tight barrel, as perfect as could be. He kept
his sharpest gaze on the tailor, and Papa Agassiz said to his wife: "Let
us see, now, if Louis can make a suit!" They did not, in the end, ask
him to try, but no doubt he knew pretty well how it was done.
At the age of ten, Louis was sent to a college twenty miles from Motier,
where his parents lived. He was keen at his lessons and asked questions
until he mastered whatever he studied. The second year he went to this
college he was joined by his brother, Auguste. The two boys liked the
same things and never wanted to be away from each other. Whenever a
vacation came, the boys walked home--all that twenty miles--and did not
make any fuss about it!
By and by the boys wanted to own books which would tell them about
birds, fishes, and rocks. These were the things Louis was thinking of
all the time. The boys saved every cent of their spending money for
these books. They were always talking about animals. One day, as they
were walking from Zurich to Motier, they were overtaken by a gentleman
in a carriage. He asked them to ride with him and to share his lunch.
They did so and talked to him about their studies. He was greatly taken
with Louis, who was a handsome, graceful lad, as he told the stranger
his fondness for books. The gentleman hardly took his eyes from the boy,
and a few days later Reverend Mr. Agassiz had a letter from him saying
that he was very rich and that he wanted to adopt Louis. He said he was
sure that the boy was a genius.
Louis was not willing, though, to be any one's boy but his own parents',
and so the matter was dropped.
The boys did not have much spending money, and it took, oh, such a long
time to save enough to buy even one book! So they often went to a
library, or borrowed a book from a teacher, then copied every word of it
with pen and ink, so as to own it. You can see from this that they were
very much in earnest.
When not studying or copying, the brothers were busy outdoors, watching
animals. In this way they learned just what kinds of fishes could be
found in certain lakes, and almost the exact day when different birds
would come or go from the woods. In their rooms the cupboards and
shelves were crammed with shells, stuffed fishes, plants, and odd
specimens. On the ledges of the windows hovered often as many as fifty
kinds of birds who had become tamed and who made their home there.
At seventeen Louis was bending over his desk a good many hours of the
day. He learned French, German, Latin, Greek, Italian, and English. But
he was wise enough to keep himself well and strong by walking, swimming,
and fencing.
Because Louis's parents and his uncle wanted him to be a doctor, he
studied medicine. He carried home his diploma when he was twenty-three
and earned a degree in philosophy, too. But in his own heart he knew he
would not be happy unless he could hunt the world over for strange
creatures and try to find out the secrets of the old, old mountains.