The salmon are very plentiful, as well as mackerel, cod and herring.

The streams are full of them. The salmon rival those of the Columbia

and Fraser rivers, and immense canneries are daily in operation in the

summer, preparing them for the markets of the world. The Chinese do this

work principally, and they are brought up from San Francisco for this

purpose and taken back there in the Fall. Fish are mostly caught in fish

traps and nets, but the natives spear them.

The largest stamp-mill on this continent for reducing gold-bearing

quartz is in operation near the town of Juneau.

Agriculture does not flourish on account of the shortness of the

summers. Gardening on a small scale goes on, and plenty can be raised

for home use. The region so long remaining almost unknown, has suddenly

become the desired bourne for men and women of all classes. It has

always been known that its mineral resources were fine, and gold has

been found there in small quantities, but the hardships endured in

getting it from the soil were too great in proportion to the amount,

but a new impetus to the labors of the gold seeker has been given by the

discovery of the precious metal in such large quantities that thousands

have rushed to this field eager to dig for the yellow ore. Steamers are

leaving Pacific ports weekly, laden with those who are willing to brave

the terrors of the Chilkoot Pass. If the tales are true, it is surely

a land of' untold riches, as the entire region is gold-bearing, and

for some years to come, that metal will be found by some, in paying

quantities. One authority, Dr. Becker, states that the beach sand all

along the Alaskan coast contains enormous quantities of gold. But even

though there was not an ounce of it in the whole territory, Alaska has

paid back to our commerce its price several times over.

CENTENNIAL EXPOSITION.

|The {323}United States, now in the midst of prosperity concluded to

hold one of the most notable fairs any land has ever enjoyed. The first

one was held in commemoration of the one hundredth birthday of our

nation, and was projected on broad lines, and carried out in the same

manner. It was opened May 10, 1876, and continued 159 days. It was a

general invitation to all the world to bring their productions to our

shores for admiration and instruction, and caused a unity and sympathy

between the severed parts of our country such as no other event could

have succeeded in doing. People flocked to Philadelphia from every land,

and the North and South met in a friendly rivalry as to which section

should be most fully represented. Over 61,000 visitors attended each

day of the Fair, and at the close of the Fair the receipts were, in

admissions, concessions and royalties, in round numbers, $4,307,749.75.

[Illustration: 0332]

It had been the desire of many patriotic people for ten years to make a

showing of our resources, and to invite, as it were, the whole world

to see us at home. The hope had never met with favor, but by repeated

representations as to the importance of the idea, the people of the

United States were at last {324}aroused, and worked so faithfully and

rapidly to carry it out, as to surprise the world.

President Grant, on behalf of the United States, asked the nations to

take part in our rejoicing, and they responded promptly, by sending

commissioners to attend to the details. Congress appropriated large

sums, and all the States entered into the undertaking with hearty

good-will.

City governments and private individuals also contributed freely. A

site was chosen, Fairmount Park, Philadelphia, one of the most charming

locations which could have been found. Five large buildings were

constructed, covering an area of twenty acres.

Each State erected a building, as did many foreign nations, within which

to exhibit the products and manufactures of that particular State.

The exposition was opened by President Grant, with Dom Pedro, Emperor

of Brazil, and his empress, by his side. Theodore Thomas' orchestra

furnished the music, playing eighteen airs at the opening, the last of

which, Hail Columbia, met with tumultuous applause. A cantata came next,

a prayer by Bishop Simpson, and a hymn followed written by Whittier, the

Quaker poet. General Hawley presented the buildings and their contents

to the President, who accepted them in a few words, announcing that the

exhibition was open. The two ponderous Corliss engines which were to put

the whole machinery going, were set in motion by the President and the

Emperor.

The exhibition was formally closed November 10, 1876, after a season of

unexampled prosperity, in the simplest manner. Addresses were made by

General Hawley and several others, the entire audience sang “America,”

and President Grant declared the International Exhibition closed. But

it had taught foreign powers a lesson of respect for our republic, and

caused wider intercourse between the Old World and the New.

EDISON, THE GENIUS OF THE AGE.

|To-day the old system of illumination is giving way to the splendors of

electric glow. With man's progress came the much needed {325}question of

artificial light.

[Illustration: 0334]

Electric lights not only adorn the streets of our cities, but grace our

parlors, furnishing a stronger, a cleaner and more healthful light than

any other known. {326}To Thomas A. Edison, who was born in Milan, Ohio,

in 1847, belongs the glory of bringing electricity for lighting purposes

to a successful basis.

[Illustration: 0335]

Other scientists before him had experimented, {327}but to Edison

remained the work of removing the final difficulties. Electricity is

to-day furnishing the motive power for street cars, railroads, engines,

etc., and it is predicted that before the dawn of a new century

more wonderful still will be the achievements of this untutored and

remarkable man.

With no less possibilities in scientific research comes the Kinetoscope,

his latest invention, which by a thousand instantaneous pictures one

is enabled to see the lifelike motions of “a child at play,” “a distant

battle,” or the varied scenes of a “County Fair.”

CHICAGO FIRE.

|The terror which fire excites exceeds all other causes for fear. It is

a subtle power that the average person cannot cope with. Its exhibitions

are so terrible, so changeable, and so unmanageable, that it temporarily

unnerves or unbalances the calmest brain. Great conflagrations have

raged in many lands, and in all ages, doing exceeding great damage,

but it is yet to be recorded that a fire ever swept over so wide a

territory, and swallowed up so large an amount of wealth and products,

sacrificing so much life as did the great Chicago Fire.

The history of the prominent events of the times would be incomplete

were not the attention of the boys and girls of to-day directed to an

occurrence so startling as to arouse the sympathies of the entire world.

The fire started on the night of October 8, 1871. The previous summer

had been especially dry and hot, and was prolific of fires, many cities

and towns having suffered in this respect, and the lumber districts

of Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, and the forests of New York State,

having been visited by the destroying element. Many causes have been

assigned for this fire, but its origin will probably remain forever

unknown. It burned with unabated fierceness for two days, and

three-fourths of the city were literally reduced to ashes.

On the evening of Saturday, the 7th, a fire had broken out in {328}a

portion of the West Division of the city, and consumed property to the

value of a million of dollars. This was thought a terrible fire, and was

heralded in all the Sabbath morning papers; thousands visited the spot

on that day, and commented on and shuddered at the loss. Little did they

apprehend that the same evening, Sunday, October 8, a fire would take

place which would do the most deadly work, ruining business, licking up

homes and property, destroying human life, and almost wiping out a whole

city, whose prosperity and energy had become famous.

[Illustration: 0337]

Nothing escaped. Private homes, public buildings, churches, banks,

theaters, the postoffice, courthouse, newspaper edifices, hotels,

{329}all fell before it, and not until General Sheridan ordered the

blowing up of buildings, was its progress stayed.

At half-past three in the morning, while a strong southwest wind was

blowing, the anxious citizens were informed that the North Side was

attacked by the fire fiend, and one of the first victims to its wrath

was the engine house of the waterworks, thus cutting off the supply of

water for use in fighting the flames, and driving the terrified people

to despair. From here it leaped northward, taking in the elevators on

the river banks, with their millions of bushels of grain, setting fire

to vessels lying at anchor, then to the cemetery nearest the city, and

to the beautiful park known as Lincoln, in short, to every conceivable

object which could furnish food for the monster of destruction.

The tramp of hundreds of people fleeing from the fire, the shrieks of

terror, the noise of the engines, the hoarse shouts and calls of those

who searched in vain for their dear ones separated from them in the mad

chase for life, the thunderous fall of stately structures, the roaring,

crackling, howling flames, made a wild scene that Pandemonium was

silence compared with. The fire burned the North Side until there was no

trace of a building left standing save one, the residence of Mahlon D.

Ogden, which stood in a large plat of ground, entirely detached. On

the site of this house has since been erected a fine building of stone,

devoted to a public library, and called the Newberry. The northern city

limits and the lake were the only barriers to the further encroachments

of the fire.

Blazing brands were seen sailing through the air, and, falling in

some spot as yet untouched, they would kindle a new fire. The heat was

intense, the very air one breathed almost scorched the throat. One vast

sea of flame melted marble and stone till it crumbled and fell. But oh,

blessed relief! The thousands who camped out on the prairie that night

welcomed the torrents of rain that fell, even though it chilled them

through. People went nearly mad with terror on that dreadful night.

Robbers and thieves were busy plying their trade, taking everything

they could {330}carry away. Some of these perished with their ill-gotten

gains. The lake was a welcome refuge, and hundreds waded out as far into

its waters as they dared, to escape the heat that lay behind them. It

was said that many were drowned through their temerity.

The 10th of October rose upon a waste, whose dwellers were clothed

in the apathy of despair. For eight days after the fire, the city was

without water, and the dread of a second outbreak hung like a pall over

them. The city came under military rule, citizens patroled the streets,

and every stranger was looked upon with suspicion, lest he be an

incendiary. General Sheridan, by virtue of the fact that he was

commander of the Military Division of the Missouri, took charge of the

city, to protect it from the thieves and incendiaries who were at

work. He ordered two companies of regulars from Omaha, three from

Fort Leavenworth, and one from Fort Scott, here. General Halleck also

furnished him with four companies from Kentucky.

A hundred men were put to work on the engines of the waterworks, and in

a week the mains were filled by pumping water into them from the river.

Some sickness resulted from drinking this water. But eight days' labor

resulted in forcing water from the pure lake into the pipes, and once

more Chicago could drink its fill. Meanwhile peddlers had dipped water

from the lake and sold it from house to house at a shilling a pail.

Mayor R. B. Mason, on the 10th, forbade any fires kindled for cooking,

and “cold victuals,” and in many cases no victuals at all, for a day or

so, until the Relief Committee could distribute the stores pouring into

the desolated city, were the order of the day.

And then the great heart of the world beat with noble generosity.

From every city, and town, and village, and from foreign lands, the

beneficent gifts flowed in, and food and clothing. From New York,

Boston, Cincinnati, St. Louis, London, England, and all over the world,

generous contributions of money were poured into Chicago, to feed the

starving--not the “starving poor,” but the starving people, for all

were made beggars by the {331}calamity. Banks were destroyed, local fire

insurance companies were wiped out of existence, and for months our fair

city was kept alive by the noble and unstinted liberality of the world.

The loss in property was over $290,000,000, at the lowest estimate. How

many lives were laid down no statistics have ever been positively given,

as there was such a large floating population, of whom no account could

be made, but accepting the lowest computation, at least 250 people

perished on that fearful night, and over 100,000 were left homeless, and

without a shelter.

A writer, speaking of the great loss of the fire of 1871 says that

$1,000,000 of property was consumed every five minutes, and 125 acres of

buildings every hour.

THE TELEPHONE AND PHONOGRAPH.

|No invention of modern times equals in interest the Telephone. It has

remained for an American to solve the problem of communication

between persons at a distance from each other. Scientists, by means of

electricity and sound, have devised an apparatus for transmitting the

voice to a distance of hundreds of miles. To Alexander Graham Bell, of

Massachusetts, and to Elisha P. Gray, of Chicago, is due the honor of

originating this wonderful invention.

Closely following the telephone is the Phonograph, an invention based on

the same principle of science, but brought about by different means. The

phonograph is made to talk and sing, thus enabling one to read by the

ear instead of the eye.

THE JOHNSTOWN FLOOD.

|Fly for your lives! The dam is going!” Such was the warning the

inhabitants of the towns received from the lips of a man who rode madly

through the valley, warning every one he saw, on that sad afternoon of

May 31, 1889. It was five in the afternoon. The people were beginning to

think of leaving their {332}work and going to their peaceful homes, when

this dread news broke upon their ears. They could not credit it, and as

they heard the news, they looked doubtingly at each other. To most of

them, it seemed impossible. The dam was away up in the mountains, on

private grounds, and few had ever seen it or dreamed how vast it was.

Besides, they reasoned, it had broken once or twice before, and no great

harm was done. All these causes served to lull their fears. But even

when they were warned, it was too late, so impetuous was its course.

Nothing could have stayed the mad waters in their descent into the

doomed valley.

[Illustration: 0341]

The Johnstown flood followed a long rain storm in the Alleghanies--a

storm of several days' duration. All the rivers running east were

swollen, and the immense dam of the huge Conemaugh valley burst with a

thunderous report. The reservoir was a large one, four miles long by one

broad, and over seventy feet deep. This vast body of water swept a wave

twenty feet high at the rate of twenty miles an hour, right down into

{333}the narrow and deep valley, where were eight villages boasting a

population of 58,000. Johnstown, Pennsylvania, the largest of the towns

in the valley, lay at the junction of Stony Creek and the Conemaugh

river, and had extensive iron works, banks, and many business houses.

This and all the villages were swept out of being in two hours, so rapid

and vehement was the coming of the torrent. Thousands were drowned, and

nearly two thousand people were burned to death by means of a mass of

wreckage which was caught and held at a new bridge near the town. The

houses were all made of wood, timber had floated down the current and

stacked up, and hundreds of trees were piled up at this bridge for a

space of sixty acres. It is presumed that some furnaces set fire to this

mass, and the poor creatures whose helpless forms had been entangled in

the débris, met an awful death by fire. There was no chance for escape;

the raging torrent was ready to engulf them, while the fierce flames

were eager to lap up all that the waters spared.

Railroad tracks were swept away, telegraph poles leveled, and though

Philadelphia and other cities sent help and food at once, it was

impossible to reach the helpless victims for forty-eight hours, and when

at last soldiers and navvies on rescue trains reached the scene, there

was nothing to be done but to feed the living and bury the dead.

Nearly 10,000 perished, and all who had escaped with their lives tried

to succor the sufferers, save a few Hungarian Slavs and Italians, who

plundered the dead, but who were shot at once as a reward for their

greediness.

It is not possible to picture the condition of the Valley after the

waters receded. In many places the whole town was swept as bare as

though a gigantic broom had passed over it, nothing but sand and gravel

being left. Where a house chanced to be left standing, it was filled

with mud and slime to the third story, while trees, broken timbers

and debris was piled up to the second story. Not a house was fit for

occupancy. Dead bodies were found in cellars, and in some dwellings

horses had been forced into the rooms by the rushing waters, and lay

there putrefying. {334}They all fared alike. A few citizens were held

prisoners in their frame houses, and floated over two miles to a place

of safety, but these fortunate ones were the exception.

Medicines, clothing, money and food were liberally poured into the

unfortunate region. Men and women from all over the country offered

their services to care for the living and the dead.

The dam whose bursting caused this awful loss of life was very

carelessly constructed, and had no stone work in its makeup. Indeed, it

might well be called a vast embankment of earth.

EARTHQUAKE AT CHARLESTON.

|Charleston, South Carolina, seems to have more than her share of

misfortunes.

[Illustration: 0343]

This thought occurred to me when the papers all over the country on the

morning of September 1st, 1886, {335}gave to the world an account of

that dreaded convulsion known as an earthquake, which had taken place

the night previous, just as the hour for retiring had come. The first

intimation that the Signal Service Bureau at Washington city had of this

catastrophe was only a surmise. They knew that something was wrong, for

communication was not to be had. All the telegraph wires were suddenly

cut off. Without a moment's warning the city had been shocked and rent

to its very foundation. Hardly a building escaped injury and almost a

third of the city was in half or total ruins. The whole Atlantic coast

was more or less affected, and for leagues from the shore the ocean was

thrown in a turmoil.

People fled from the tottering houses to the parks and public squares,

where they erected tents and remained for weeks, afraid to return to

their own homes. It was soon discovered that these shocks were only the

dying away of great convulsions and that further alarm was unnecessary,

so they returned home.

With true American energy the debris was in a few months cleared

away, business was resumed and to-day were it not for a few cracks and

fissures in buildings we would never know that anything had happened

there to disturb their peace.

[Illustration: 0344]

INDIAN WARS.

[Illustration: 9345]

ATING {336}from the time of the discovery of our continent there have

been disturbances between the whites and the Indians. The first Indian

war was between the colonists and the natives, and dates back to 1622.

At the beginning of the nineteenth century the Sioux Indians held all

the lands between the Mississippi and the Rocky Mountains, north of the

40th parallel of latitude. These lands were grassy, rolling prairies,

with a plentiful supply of timber growing along the rivers and creeks

which abounded. The government established reservations thirty-two years

ago for the purpose of keeping those Indians who are hostile, separated

from the peaceably disposed ones, who only went upon the hunt for game

for food and sale. When buffalo and large game grew scarce, the United

States furnished them with food and clothing, and placed the means

within their power, to support themselves.

The Indian question is full of interest, and comes forward constantly to

perplex our government, which regards them as its wards. Articles by

the hundred have been written about the red man, his possibilities and

capabilities set forth; plans have been proposed to subdue, or rather

civilize him, and still the fact remains that the savage nature, save in

exceptional instances, is as untamed as the first day he came upon the

scene. {337}

[Illustration: 0346]

The {338}first mail to California from the East was carried by the

overland route, in stages, and lucky was the party that made the

lonesome journey across the plains unmolested by the Indians, who

swarmed about them and sent showers of arrows into the coach which was

carrying its bag of mail and the trembling passengers. The stage was

always guarded by United States soldiers, but in spite of this the

half-naked savages would press closer and closer, hurling their sharp

arrows with unerring aim, as the stage went plunging along, the horses

half-mad with fear, but straining every nerve to outrun the screaming

foe. The settlers of those early days were brave men and women, or they

would not have risked falling into the hands of the roving bands who

were always on the war-path on some pretext. Many a brave man has died

defending the mail which the government intrusted to him.

[Illustration: 0347]

While our land was torn with dissension, the Indians cunningly planned a

general uprising. This was in 1862. The Indians in Minnesota and Dakota

massacred the settlers everywhere, In Minnesota the Sioux attacked

outlying towns, committing {339}terrible atrocities. They pounced upon

New Ulm, a small but thriving village, and killed 100 of its people.

[Illustration: 0348]

They turned their attention to two other villages, but were driven

away. {340}Colonel Sibley was sent after them, and met several bodies of

Indians, whom he defeated. They fear cannon greatly, and two were turned

upon them, much to their terror.

[Illustration: 0349]

The garrison at Fort Kearney was surprised by Indians December 21, 1866,

and 100 soldiers were slaughtered.

The Indians have many peculiar customs. One of them is, their habit

of daubing on the war paint and indulging in a war dance whenever they

resolve to attack the whites.

{341}

[Illustration: 0350]

Once seen they {342}can never be forgotten, for their lithe forms,

hideously painted faces, and demoniac yells would startle the bravest.

September of 1867 the Indians on the North Platte called a council to

confer with General Sherman. They demanded that the building of several

roads should be stopped, and particularly the work on the Southern

Pacific, as it interfered with their hunting. The General would not

accede to these demands, but promised that any loss they suffered should

be made good to them.

September 18, 1868, the 'Indians attacked our troops at Republican

River, and Lieutenant Beecher and several other officers were murdered.

In 1871 the Apaches killed over 200 white settlers, not in battle, but

skulking in ambush, and shooting them wherever they met them.

[Illustration: 9351]

The whites met the Indians at Washita River, and defeated them, November

27, 1868.

Thus the continual outbreaks of the Indians, have been a source of

trouble and anxiety to the government, which has sought to adjust the

claims of the red men in a fair and just manner. That the latter have

often been cheated and robbed by unscrupulous agents and traders, no

one can deny, but the fact still remains that the Indian nature is

peculiarly hard to subdue, and their natural instincts are cruel. {343}

[Illustration: 0352]

There are, fortunately, many bright examples among several tribes,

{344}of the beauty of civilization, and its beneficial influence upon

them.

The Modoc massacre was a cruel return for intended kindness. This

tribe had for its chief Captain Jack, a very intelligent man of fine

abilities. Their removal to another reservation was violently resisted

by them, and they retreated to the Lava Beds, where trouble was

anticipated. At last a peace council was arranged for and although

Colonel Meacham, the peace commissioner, urged the whites not to attend

it, they paid no attention to his warning, but went. The Indians had

concealed weapons, and they rose in a body, and attempted to massacre

every white man present. General Canby and Dr. Thomas were killed, and

Colonel Meacham received a dozen wounds, but survived them. Three months

afterward the band surrendered, and Captain Jack and some of the other

leaders were executed at Fort Klamath, Oregon, October 3.

GEORGE A. CUSTER.

|A the close of the war of 1861 most of the boys in blue went back to

their homes--but not so with General Custer. He was one of the most

brilliant soldiers of the war, and had the distinction of being the

youngest general in the army. His graduation from West Point took place

just about the first year of the conflict, and he was made lieutenant,

but before the close of the last year he had attained the rank of

major-general, and assisted in some of the most remarkable victories.

He was not allowed time to visit his home in Michigan, but was ordered

to lead a cavalry command through Texas, to teach the people there that

the war was over, and to check the ravages of the “bushwhackers” who

still infested that beautiful State. On his return home he accepted

the lieutenant-colonelcy of the Seventh United States Cavalry, and nine

years were passed in service at the frontier posts of Kansas and Dakota.

His wife lived with him through those scenes of interest. She {345}had

the gift of transmitting to paper the vivid pictures of this wild and

daring life. She passed four months in an army wagon, and rode the long

marches which her brave husband was forced to make. He was a hero, she

also was a heroine, for the hardships and privations which she endured

so uncomplainingly, were worthy of so grand a spirit.

The Sioux (Soo) is the most powerful tribe of red men on our continent.

They preyed upon all alike--with the defenceless settlements of our

Minnesota frontier, with the Pawnees, the Cheyennes, the Arapahoes, and

the Shoshones and, indeed, with all the other tribes, far and near.

They spared no one. At the end of the war of 1861 our army was called

on to protect the peaceable settlers of the far West, for the Sioux

were more hostile and bloodthirsty than ever. For ten years the cavalry

regiments knew no rest. The Indians were on the war-path continually.

They were always rash fighters, but when in 1874 they obtained

breech-loaders and rifles, they became a foe more to be dreaded than

ever. They burned our forts and massacred the small garrisons in a most

atrocious manner.

Our government used every method to subdue them, feeding, clothing and

coaxing them. Agencies and reservations were placed at good points, but

this care for their comfort had no effect. The old worn-out Indians,

women and children lived on these reservations, partaking of the

government's bounty, while the young and vigorous warriors sallied

out to murder and pilfer the whites wherever they could find them. The

soldiers of the United States were not permitted to attack them on their

reservations, and so they kept out of their way, and escaped punishment.

An Indian in his wild state has no respect for another of his race who

has no scalps to show. There were, however, some who made treaties with

the whites, and kept them. But among the many who never made any promise

to behave was a powerful medicine chief known as “Sitting Bull.”

In March, 1876, General George Crook was sent against this {346}renowned

warrior, who had entrenched himself in the hills with 6,000 “bad

Indians” around him. From the south General Terry was sent with a strong

body of cavalry and infantry, and General Gibbon with a small but brave

band of frontier soldiers. They approached the stronghold of the chief.

Major Reno left camp to reconnoiter, and was readily convinced how rash

it would be to attack Sitting Bull, who was daily receiving accessions

to his numbers.

General Terry thought, however, it was time to start an expedition to

discover and dislodge the enemy, and he gave the command to the brave

and fearless soldier, General Custer. He named the 26th of June as the

day when he and Gibbon would be there to assist Custer, but the latter,

impatient to open the conflict, had urged his horses and men to their

utmost so as to reach the scene. He started on the trail with the

Seventh Cavalry, riding sixty miles in twenty-four hours. His aim was

to have a bout with the Indians and defeat them single-handed. Coming

within sight of the village on the left bank of the Little Big Horn

River where Sitting Bull was encamped, he observed such tokens

of excitement and hurrying away of ponies as to him had but one

explanation--that the chief and his warriors were running away. Dashing

forward with panting chest and the fire of courage flaming in his face,

he placed himself at the head of his men, plunged hastily into the

valley, and the last that General Reno, who followed him closely, ever

saw of the brave Custer and his three hundred, was the cloud of dust

their trail had left behind.

The valiant Custer had gone to his death! Expecting Reno would make a

dash such as his own, he had gallantly ridden forward, to be met by a

perfect storm of flame and lead. In an instant he saw how vain was his

attempt, and giving orders to mount he sought a way out, but the red men

swarmed around his followers. Boys and even old squaws were firing at

him and his band most viciously. {347}

[Illustration: 0357]

Vainly they tried to remount--they cut their horses loose, and on a

little mound, General Custer, with scarcely a dozen men, all who were

left, made his last {348}rally. In a few moments all was over. Of the

twelve troops of the Seventh Cavalry, but one thing escaped alive--Myles

Keogh's sorrel horse, Comanche, who came back into the lines a few days

later, a most pitiable object. Thus perished General Custer, as brave

and noble a soldier as ever lived!

The Utes gave a great amount of trouble in 1879, in Colorado, pouncing

upon a wagon train and slaying Major Thornburgh and eleven of his men.

They next murdered Agent Meeker, and carried many women into captivity.

The Apache Indians fell upon the settlers of Silver City, New Mexico,

October 19, 1879, killing twenty-one men and women, and seventeen

children. The men were shot and scalped, and the women tortured. Troops

were sent to protect the remainder, but it was some time before they

could be reached.

The year 1890 witnessed one of the most serious outbreaks of the red

men of the Dakota reservations. The Ghost Dance was indulged in, and

the feeling of dread and fear spread all over the Western country.

This dance was instigated by Sitting Bull, who had returned to the

reservation eleven years previous. It has always been a superstition

among all the Indians that the Messiah would come to them some day,

bring all their dead to life, and drive the whites out of the land.

Sitting Bull encouraged the Sioux in Dakota to believe this.

At once the War Department was given full control of the Indians by the

Interior Department. At the different agencies it was found that the

Indians were stealing cattle and horses and running them off into the

Bad Lands, where they designed starting a camp. It was well known that

if Sitting Bull reached that stronghold he would be safe, so the Indian

police at the Pine Ridge Agency were told to arrest him, which they did,

and started back to the Agency, knowing a body of cavalry and infantry

were following in their wake to assist them. But Sitting Bull's friends

rushed to his assistance and a fierce hand-to-hand encounter took place.

They all fought like fiends, and lost several of their numbers. But

the police held the old chief captive, {349}and two of them shot

him--Bullhead and Red Tomahawk. A son of the chief, Crow Foot, was slain

also.

BATTLE OF WOUNDED KNEE CREEK,

|In the annals of American history there cannot be found a battle so

fierce, bloody and decisive as the fight at Wounded Knee Creek between

the Seventh Cavalry and Big Foots band of Sioux. It was a stand-up

fight of the most desperate kind, in which nearly the entire band was

annihilated, and although the soldiers outnumbered their opponents

nearly three to one, the victory was won by two troops, about one

hundred strong.

[Illustration: 8359]

The night before the Indians had agreed to submit, and the troops were

up bright and early in readiness to move by eight o'clock. At that

hour the cavalry and dismounted troops were gathered about the Indian

village, the Hotchkiss guns overlooking the camp not fifty yards away.

The Indians were ordered to come forward, away from their tents, and

when the band, under the leadership of Big Foot, walked out of their

lodges and formed a semicircle in front of the soldiers' tents, there

was nothing to indicate that they would not submit. Colonel Forsyth, an

Indian fighter of tried worth, never gave a thought to the chance of

a fight. When it was made plain to the band that their arms must be

{350}given up, the murmur of discontent was unanimous.

[Illustration: 9360]

When the soldiers proceeded to disarm them and search their tents

the medicine man jumped up, uttered a loud incantation and fired at a

trooper standing guard over the captured guns. That was the signal for

fight, and in a second every buck in the party rose to his feet, cast

aside the blanket which covered his winchester, and, taking aim, fired

directly at the troop in front. It was a terrible onslaught, and so

sudden that all were stunned but, quickly recovering, they opened fire

on the enemy. The position of troops B and K would not allow their

fellow-cavalry-men to fire, lest they shoot through the Indians and kill

their own men. This the terrible duel raged for thirty minutes. Someone

ordered “Spare the women,” but the squaws fought like demons and could

not be distinguished from the men. The entire band was practically

slaughtered, and those who escaped to the ravine were followed by the

cavalry and shot down wherever found. The chief medicine man, whose

incantations had caused the band to act with such murderous treachery,

fell with a dozen bullets in his body. It is claimed that of the Indians

there were but two survivors, one of which was a baby girl about three

months old, who has since been adopted by a wealthy lady in Washington.

After {351}the defeat of the Indians at Wounded Knee Creek, they were

ready to close the conflict and make the best terms possible with

General Miles. On the 22d of January there was a grand military review

in honor of the victory over the redskins. Ten thousand Sioux had a

good opportunity to see the strength and discipline of the United States

Army, the end of the ghost-dance rebellion being marked by a review of

all the soldiers who had taken part in crushing the Indians. Thus passed

into history probably not only the most remarkable of our Indian wars,

but the last one there will ever be.

CHRISTOPHER CARSON.

|The subject of our sketch was one of the most noted mountaineers,

trappers and hunters that ever lived.

[Illustration: 9361]

He was no less renowned as a guide and a soldier. He was a native of

Madison County, Kentucky, where he was born December 24, 1809. When he

was a babe his father removed his family to Howard County, Missouri.

Here he spent {352}many happy days in hunting wild game, and making

himself familiar with nature. The schoolroom had not very many charms

for him, and at fifteen he was apprenticed to a saddler, with whom he

remained two years. But this employment was irksome to him, and he soon

freed himself, and we next hear of him as a trapper, which was more

congenial to his taste, as he remained one for eight years. He next

engaged as hunter to Bent's Fort, and eight more years glided by. Few

men understood the nature of the Indians more thoroughly than did he.

He dealt with them in a truthful, straightforward way, which won their

regard, and the government appointed him Indian agent in New Mexico,

where he was singularly successful in making treaties with the red men,

which were religiously kept.

His services during the Civil War were inestimable in New Mexico,

Colorado and the Indian Territory, for which he was promoted to colonel,

and was brevetted brigadier-general.

He died from a rupture of an artery in the neck, at Fort Lynn, Colorado,

on the 23d of May, 1868.

THE WORLD'S COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION.

|The next great fair which our country saw, was planned on a huge scale.

It was also an invitation to the peoples of all lands, who liberally

responded. This was the World's Fair, and it was rightly named, for

it proved a gathering of all nations. It was opened in May, 1893,

and closed October 30. The features of the Fair were varied, and its

inception and fulfillment were on a gigantic scale. Nearly every country

on earth sent some representation to the Fair, and during its existence

millions of strangers visited the city.

{353}

[Illustration: 0363]

There was a long and earnest contest as to what city should have the

honor of being selected to hold the great World's Fair, St. Louis,

Cincinnati, New York, Washington and Chicago, each presenting powerful

reasons why the choice should fall upon it. But Congress settled the

question by giving to Chicago the coveted honor, and without delay

commissioners were chosen, and {354}officials and citizens went busily

to work, hand in hand, to make the fair the grandest ever projected.

The grounds selected were at Jackson Park, Chicago, and comprised 640

acres. Magnificent buildings were erected, costing from $10,000 to

$300,000 each, and every State engaged with the others in a friendly

rivalry. There were forty-seven State and Territorial buildings, each

one noted for a style of architecture dissimilar to any of the rest, and

yet all remarkably beautiful.

It was well represented by foreign peoples, fifty-one nations and

thirty-nine colonies participating. The edifices erected by the

directors, such as Transportation, Machinery Hall, Electrical Building,

etc., were numerous and costly. The beauties of the Art Gallery were a

revelation to the busy, pushing American, and the man or woman who spent

but a few days among the wonders of the great World's Fair of 1893 found

food for reflection and pleasant memories to last a lifetime. Nature was

not overlooked and the horticultural show was a marvel of beauty. The

Fisheries Building was deemed among the handsomest on the grounds,

costing $225,000, but where all were so fine and-so well adapted to

their intended use, it is impossible to particularize.

The fair, it was expected, would be opened by President Cleveland in

person, but State reasons forbidding his presence, it was arranged that

he should touch an electric button in Washington which should start the

machinery here, which was done. The fair was dedicated on the 20th of

October, 1892, with imposing and lengthy ceremonies, and opened to the

world in May, 1893.

Figures do not appeal to the youthful mind, but still they are necessary

for comparison, and when I tell my young readers that the Vienna

exposition in 1873 expended $7,850,000, while Chicago's outlay was

$17,000,000, it will easily be seen that the Worlds Fair of 1893, held

at Chicago, was carried out with a magnificence never before equaled.

PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN OF 1896.

[Illustration: 9365]

HEN {355}in the campaign of 1896 for President of our great republic,

excitement ran high, as the “silverites” had put a candidate in the

field in opposition to the Republican nominee, the latter party having

adopted a platform which upheld the gold standard, and which pledged

itself to make every effort to obtain recognition for silver as money

by gold-standard countries, at a ratio to be agreed upon later; it also

declared in favor of a protective tariff.

The year of 1893 had brought a terrible panic, which caused more

suffering in its train, than any that had preceded it. Business was

not to be had, labor was not sought, and failures were of everyday

occurrence. People began to ask why this state of affairs existed.

The advocates of silver answered that it was because that metal was

legislated against, while the protective tariff people asserted that

the troubles were due to the fact that the tariff was faulty--it neither

provided money for governmental uses, nor work for the toilers.

At once a fierce contest of words and arguments began. The silver men

formed clubs, papers presenting their arguments were scattered all over

the land, able speakers were employed, and nothing was heard but the

all-absorbing currency question.

The Democrats held a convention at Chicago in July with the silver men

in the majority. William J. Bryan of Nebraska proved so convincing

a speaker in the debates, that he held the attention of vast and

enthusiastic audiences.

In return for his efforts {356}he was nominated for President, and

Arthur Sewall of Maine for Vice, as William McKinley of Ohio, had

been named in the Republican body that met at St. Louis, in June, with

Garrett A. Hobart of New Jersey as Vice-President.

[Illustration: 9366]

The platform sanctioned by the party was the free coinage of silver

at the ratio of “sixteen to one,” and that the tariff was to remain

unchanged. The watch 7 word of the party became “sixteen to one.”

When the Populists held their convention they chose Mr. Bryan for the

Presidential chair, and Thomas Watson of Georgia for the position of

Vice-President. The Silver party indorsed the choice of Bryan, and

the whole country became engaged in the conflict. The excitement was

intense, and party spirit ran high. The States seemed equally divided,

the Eastern and Central coming out for gold, while the Western and

Southern espoused the claims of the white metal.

Still another party arose, called the Gold Democrats, who convened at

Indianapolis in September, and selected John M. Palmer of Illinois for

their Presidential leader, and Simon B. Buckner of Kentucky for Vice.

This party came out squarely for the gold standard only.

[Illustration: 8336]

Mr. Bryan took the stump and addressed the people of the country at

large. Mr. McKinley remained quietly in his own home at Canton, and

received delegations. It seemed as though every man, woman and child

took sides in the great question at stake, and each was equally sure of

success. Debates noticeable {357}for their bitter intensity were heard,

meetings were held day and night, and each party felt certain that in

an acceptance of its particular views alone rested the safety and

perpetuity of our country.

The battle culminated on November 5, 1896, when William McKinley was

elected by a large majority. The rancor and bitterness died out, all

parties accepted the people's choice, and he was inaugurated President

March 4, 1897, amid a scene of splendor.

Of his patriotism, his clear-sightedness, his wisdom, his administration

is daily giving proof, and his conduct of our late war with Spain is the

best vindication of the calm, unbiased, just and grand character of our

chief executive.

[Illustration: 367]

{358}

[Illustration: 0368]

“HOME, SWEET HOME.”

FRANCES E. WILLARD.

In {359}the spring of 1863 two great armies were encamped on either

side of the Rappahannock River, one dressed in blue and the other

dressed in gray. As twilight fell, the bands of music on the Union side

began to play the martial music, “The Star Spangled Banner,” and “Rally

Round the Flag;” and that challenge of music was taken up by those upon

the other side, and they responded with “The Bonnie Blue Flag,” and

“Away Down South in Dixie.” It was borne in upon the soul of a single

soldier in one of those bands of music to begin a sweeter and a more

tender air, and slowly as he played it they joined in a sort of chorus

of all the instruments upon the Union side, until finally a great and

mighty chorus swelled up and down our army--“Home, Sweet Home.” When

they had finished there was no challenge yonder, for every band upon

that farther shore had taken up the lovely air so attuned to all that is

holiest and dearest, and one great chorus of the two great hosts went up

to God; and when they had finished the sweet and holy melody, from the

boys in gray there came a challenge, “Three cheers for home!” and as

they went reverberating through the skies from both sides of the river,

“something upon the soldiers' cheeks washed off the stains of powder.”

THE REV. O. H. TIFFANY, D. D.

|HOW solemn a thing is death!--and yet, how wonderful a thing {360}is

life! God appoints it, man develops it, death seals its destiny,

eternity unfolds its ultimate issues. Each human soul in which this

power of life is has “its secrets and histories and marvels of destiny,

heaven's splendors are over its dead, hell's terrors are under its feet,

tragedies and poetries are in it, and a history for eternity.”

Every social organism, every grand national aggregation of lives but

generalizes the history of the individual, and thus the history of all

life and of all living, whether in individuals, families, societies or

nations, is one history, and that history the record of its conflicts,

its defeats, its victories. The dawn of this life is a struggle for

being, its growth a constant warfare with antagonisms, its maintenance

is by continued defenses. And each and all of these create crises of

destiny which may retard or advance, destroy or establish the whole.

Our national birth was a contest with physical difficulties, our

establishment a victory over political antagonisms; the last desperate

struggle was a conflict of ideas, a contest of moral principles; and we

may hope that its issue shall be one of prosperity and peace.

Mountains are rock-ribbed and enduring because the earthquake has

settled them on their foundations; the pines that crest them like a

coronet withstand the rudest blasts, because they have been rooted by

the storms which toss their giant branches. So universal freedom has

been made sure by the passing turbulence of rebellion, and our national

prosperity established by the rude blast of war.

It was a war such as the world never before witnessed; it was fought by

such armies as never before were marshaled on the field. But the end has

come. These great armies have returned covered with honor and laureled

with renown. They are merged again in the business and activities of

life; they have disappeared from view like the snow in springtime,

or the dew of the morning in the {361}summer's sun; now and then the

halting step upon the sidewalk, here and there an empty sleeve, remind

us in our daily walks of the stern realities of war.

After war, peace!

Peace to the dead. Peace through their labors to the living. These “have

fought their last fight,” the salvos of artillery which soon shall sound

from the guns they loved so well shall not awake them. The grass shall

grow green in springtime, the birds of summer shall sing their sweetest

notes, the bright glories of autumn shall tint the foliage above them,

and the white snow of winter shall lie unbroken on their graves, but

these shall sleep on in peace.

Peace, white-robed and olive-crowned, has come to us who linger. Peace,

with its cares and toils, peace, with its plenty and prosperity, peace,

with its duties for to-day and its destinies for to-morrow. Let us

welcome it and become worthy of it. Let there be in all our lives,

thoughts, hopes, endeavors, such devotion to duty as called and sent

these brave men to the battlefield and sustained them there; and then we

may safely leave our future to the care of those who, coming after us,

shall pause, amid the ruins time may make, to trace upon the marble in

our cemeteries the names of the heroic dead.

God gives us peace! Not such as lulls to sleep,

But sword on thigh and brows with purpose knit.

And let our Ship of State to harbor sweep,

Her ports all up! Her battle lanterns lit!

And her leashed thunders gathered for their leap.

THE UNION SOLDIER.

ROBERT G. INGERSOLL.

|THE past rises before me like a dream. Again we are in the great

struggle for national life. We hear the sounds of preparation, the

music of the boisterous drum, the silver voices of heroic bugles. We see

thousands of assemblages, and hear the appeals of orators; we see the

pale cheeks of women and the {362}flushed faces of men; and in those

assemblages we see all the dead whose dust we have covered with flowers.

We lose sight of them no more. We are with them when they enlist in the

great army of freedom. We see them part with those they love. Some are

walking for the last time in quiet, woody places with the maidens they

adore. We hear the whisperings and the sweet vows of eternal love as

they lingeringly part forever. Others are bending over cradles, kissing

babies that are asleep; some are receiving the blessings of old men;

some are parting with mothers who hold them and press them to their

hearts again and again, and say nothing, and some are talking with

wives, and endeavoring with brave words spoken in the old tones to drive

from their hearts the awful fear. We see them part. We see the wife

standing in the door, with the babe in her arms--standing in the

sunlight sobbing--at the turn of the road a hand waves--she answers by

holding high in her loving hands the child. He is gone, and forever.

We see them all as they march proudly away under the flaunting flags,

keeping time to the wild, grand music of war, marching down the streets

of the great cities, through the towns and across the prairies, down to

the fields of glory, to do and to die for the eternal right. We go with

them, one and all. We are by their side on all the gory fields, in the

hospitals, on all the weary marches. We stand guard with them in the

wild storm, and under the quiet stars. We are with them in ravines

running with blood, in the furrows of old fields; we are with them

between contesting hosts unable to move, wild with thirst, the life

ebbing slowly away among the withered leaves. We see them pierced

by balls and torn with shells in the trenches by forts, and in the

whirlwind of the charge, where men become iron, with nerves of steel.

We are with them in the prisons of hatred and famine; but human speech

can never tell what they endured. We are at home when the news comes

that they are dead. We see the maiden in the shadow of her first sorrow.

We see the silvered head of the old man bowed with the first grief.

The past rises before us, and we see four millions of human beings

governed by the lash; we see them bound hand and foot; we hear the

strokes of cruel whips; we see the hounds tracking women {363}through

the tangled swamps; we see babes sold from the breasts of mothers.

Cruelty unspeakable! Outrage infinite! Four million bodies in

chains--four million souls in fetters. All the sacred relations of wife,

mother, father and child trampled beneath the brutal feet of might. All

this was done under our own beautiful banner of the free. The past rises

before us; we hear the roar and shriek of the bursting shell; the broken

fetters fall; these heroes died. We look--instead of slaves we see men,

women and children. The wand of progress touches the auction block,

the slave pen, the whipping post, and we see homes and firesides, and

schoolhouses and books, and where all was want and crime and cruelty and

fetters, we see the faces of the free. These heroes are dead; they died

for liberty; they died for us; they are at rest; they sleep in the land

they made free under the flag they rendered stainless, under the solemn

pines, the sad hemlocks, the tearful willows and the embracing vines;

they sleep beneath the shadows of the clouds, careless alike of sunshine

or storm, each in the windowless palace of rest. Earth may run red with

other wars, they are at peace. In the midst of battle they found the

severity of death. I have one sentiment for the soldiers, living and

dead--cheers for the living, and tears for the dead.

Our Noble, Heroic and Self-Sacrificing Women.

EMORY A. STORRS.

|BRIGHT and shying on our resplendent annals shall appear the names

of those thousands of noble, heroic and self-sacrificing women, who

organized and carried forward to triumphant success a colossal sanitary

and charitable scheme, the like of which, in nobility of conception

and perfectness of execution, the world had never before witnessed, and

which carried all around the globe the fame and the name of the women of

America.

From camp to camp, from battlefield to battlefield, through the long and

toilsome march, by day and by night, these sacred charities followed,

and the prayers of the devoted and the true were ceaselessly with you

through all dangers.

Leagues {364}and leagues separated you from home, but the blessings

there invoked upon you hovered over and around you, and sweetened your

sleep like angels' visits.

While the boy soldier slept by his camp fire at night and dreaming of

home, and what his valor would achieve for his country, uttered even in

his dreams prayers for the loved ones who had made that home so dear to

him, the mother dreaming of her son breathed at the same time prayers

for his safety, and for the triumph of his cause. The prayers and

blessings of mother and son, borne heavenward, met in the bosom of their

common God and Father.

ANTIETAM.

|I'VE wandered to Antietam, John,

And stood where foe met foe

Upon the fields of Maryland

So many years ago.

The circling hills rise just the same

As they did on that day,

When you were fighting blue, old

boy,

And I was fighting gray.

The winding stream runs 'neath the

bridge

Where Burnside won his fame;

The locust trees upon the ridge

Beyond are there the same.

The birds were singing 'mid the

trees--

'Twas bullets on that day,

When you were fighting blue, old

boy,

And I was fighting gray.

I saw again the Dunker Church

That stood beside the wood,

Where Hooker made the famous

charge

That Hill so well withstood.

'Tis scarred and marred by war and

time,

As we are, John, to-day;

For you were fighting blue, old boy,

As I was fighting gray.

I stood beneath the signal tree

Where I that day was laid,

And 'twas your arms, old boy, that

brought

Me'to this friendly shade.

Tho' leaves are gone and limbs are

bare,

Its heart is true to-day

As your your's was then, tho' fighting blue,

To me, tho fighting gray.

I marked the spot where Mansfield

fell,

Where Richardson was slain,

With Stark and Douglas 'mid the

corn,

And Brant amid the grain.

The names are sacred to us, John;

They led us in the fray, [blue

When you were fighting Northern

And I the Southern gray.

I {365}thought of Burnside, Hooker, '

Meade,

Of Sedgwick, old and grave;

Of Stonewall Jackson, tried and true,

That tried the day to save.

I bared my head--they rest in peace--

Each one has passed away;

Death musters those who wore the

blue

With those who wore the gray.

The old Pry mansion rears its walls

Beside Antietam's stream,

And far away along the South

I saw the tombstones gleam.

They mark each place where “Little

Mac”

And Robert Lee that day

Made proud the South, tho' wearing

blue,

The North, tho' wearing gray.

Yes; John, it gave me joy to stand

Where we once fiercely fought.

The nation now is one again--

The lesson has been taught.

Sweet peace doth fair Antietam crown,

And we can say to-day [blue

We're friends, tho' one was fighting

And one was fighting gray.

THE SWORDS OF GRANT AND LEE.

“_Fame Hath Crowned with Laurel the Swords of Grant and Lee._”

[Illustration: 9375]

ETHINKS to-night I catch a gleam of steel among the pines,

And yonder by the lilied stream repose the foemen's lines;

The ghostly guards who pace the ground a moment stop to see

If all is safe and still around the tents of Grant and Lee.

'Tis but a dream; no armies camp where once their bay'nets

shone;

And Hesper's calm and lovely lamp shines on the dead alone;

A cricket chirps on yonder rise beneath a cedar tree

Where glinted 'neath the summer skies the swords of Grant and Lee.

Forever sheathed those famous blades that led the eager van!

They shine no more among the glades that fringe the Rapidan;

To-day their battle work is done, go draw them forth and see

That not a stain appears upon the swords of Grant and Lee.

The gallant men who saw them flash in comradeship to-day

Recall the wild, impetuous dash of val'rous blue and gray;

And 'neath the flag that proudly waves above a Nation free,

They oft recall the missing braves who fought with Grant and Lee.

They sleep among the tender grass, they slumber 'neath the pines,

They're camping in the mountain pass where crouched the serried lines;

They {366}rest where loud the tempests blow, destructive in their

glee--

The men who followed long ago the swords of Grant and Lee.

Their graves are lying side by side where once they met as foes,

And where they in the wildwood died springs up a blood-red rose;

O'er them the bee on golden wing doth flit, and in yon tree

A gentle robin seems to sing to them of Grant and Lee.

To-day no strifes of sections rise, to-day no shadows fall

Upon our land, and 'neath the skies one flag waves over all;

The Blue and Gray as comrades stand, as comrades bend the knee,

And ask God's blessings on the land that gave us Grant and Lee.

So long as southward, wide and clear, Potomac's river runs,

Their deeds will live because they were Columbia's hero sons;

So long as bend the Northern pines, and blooms the orange tree,

The swords will shine that led the lines of valiant Grant and Lee.

Methinks I hear a bugle blow, methinks I hear a drum;

And there, with martial step and slow, two ghostly armies come;

They are the men who met as foes, for 'tis the dead I see,

And side by side in peace repose the swords of Grant and Lee.

Above them let Old Glory wave, and let each deathless star

Forever shine upon the brave who lead the ranks of war;

Their fame resounds from coast to coast, from mountain top to sea

No other land than ours can boast the swords of Grant and Lee!

[Illustration: 0376]

WAR WITH SPAIN.

[Illustration: 9377]

NLY {367}those who know the power of peace can realize the dread of war.

For four centuries Spain has borne down upon her colonies, with a heavy

hand. The brightest of them, Cuba, “the Pearl of the Antilles,” has

been the victim of two cruel and merciless wars at her hands, waged

with relentless barbarity. We could not, as a Christian nation, help

protesting against her inhumanity to a people whose home was so near our

shores.

For thirty years the sounds of war had been silent in our domain,

but justice demanded that we interfere in behalf of a people who are

struggling against oppression, and in the noble cause of humanity.

Spain's cruelty and Spain's greed are matters of history.

THE MAINE DISASTER.

|On the 25th of January the Maine, an American battleship, entered the

harbor of Havana, Cuba, and anchored in her waters at a spot indicated

by the harbor-master. The usual exchange of salutes and formal visits

expected between two powers, took place, and there was no apparent

unfriendliness shown. Just three weeks from that day, in the evening of

the 15th of February, an explosion took place, which tore the boat to

atoms, killing 266 of her crew and two officers. At once treachery

was suspected, {368}but the American people was asked to suspend its

judgment until the long and searching investigation which was conducted

by the naval board of inquiry was ended, when every evidence was

produced proving that the awful calamity was due wholly to Spanish

treachery.

This led to a severing of all diplomatic relations, which was ended by

the Spanish minister's request for his passport. Spain declared war

upon the United States on April 24, 1898, and it took the House of

Representatives one minute and forty-one seconds to pass a declaration

of war in reply to Spain, and the Senate acted with equal promptness.

Events of such vast importance have rarely followed each other with such

rapidity as have those of our late war with Spain. In less than three

months a nation which deemed itself invincible, threw down the gauntlet

which was as speedily picked up, and engagements and battles trod almost

upon each other's heels, until its boast was proved a vain one, and

victory was ours.

Our people were ready to accept the challenge. From North and South came

the glad response. Once more the blue and the gray fought side by side,

as brothers.

THE FIRST GUN FIRED.

|Our history would be incomplete if I did not tell my young readers who

fired the first shot in our war with Spain. The United States cruiser,

Nashville, of the North Atlantic squadron at Key West, can lay proud

claim to that honor.

It was a clear and beautiful morning in April when the American fleet

left Key West, and proceeding southward across the straits of Florida,

first saw the city of Havana and the battlements of the famous Morro

Castle, on the afternoon of the same day. The fleet presented a gallant

sight, and when at three in the morning Admiral Sampson's flagship, the

New York, flashed forth her signal lights, the answering signals were

given from all the ships of the fleet, black smoke began to pour from

the smokestacks, and the crews needed no further hint that they had work

before them. {369}

[Illustration: 0379]

{370}

[Illustration: 0380]

{371}

[Illustration: 0381]

These volunteers in company with the Sixteenth and Sixth Regiments were

ordered to “charge the Block House'” and up the hill they charged with

military precision.

After {372}the Nashville returned to Key West, the rest of the squadron

proceeded to the Cuban coast. Coming within fifteen miles of Morro

Castle, the fleet scattered so as to form a complete blockade of the

port. Every day brought new prizes to our squadron, and the blockade of

Havana proved effectual.

It is well to call the attention of the boys to a few of the changes in

phraseology between the old sea terms and the new. Once in the English

navy (and ours was modeled after it) the term admiral was unknown--the

word constable or justice was used. So with the title of captain, which

is in reality a military one. In the earlier times this personage was

called a master. The term commodore we have borrowed from that very

nation with whom we have just measured arms--the Spanish, and comes from

their word _comendador_. Cadets were not known by that name, but were

called volunteers. Another item which furnishes food for reflection,

is the origin of the United States navy. On October 13, 1775, the

continental congress voted to fit out two vessels, one to carry ten

guns, the other fourteen, for the purpose of taking English supply

vessels. The same month it added two more vessels to its extensive

equipment. On March 27, 1794, after our troubles with the Algerine

pirates, six frigates were ordered, each to carry thirty-two guns.

Congress appropriated $700,000 for the purpose of organizing a navy.

Compare this feeble beginning with our splendid navy of to-day.

It is proper to explain here what the practice of nations is with regard

to prize money. It is a strict rule of war that neutral powers must not

interfere nor give help to either party that is engaged in a war. To

furnish ships, ammunition, or supplies is a grave offence, and all such

goods are termed “contraband of war.” {373}

[Illustration: 0383]

Any boat at sea suspected of carrying “contraband” articles can be

searched, but properly commissioned vessels only can perform this duty.

Another thing which will subject a vessel to being seized or confiscated

is an attempt at blockade running, or trying to pass the line

established by the war vessels stationed in an entrance to a harbor or

along the coast. These are {374}rules of war common to all nations, and

must be rigidly observed.

All neutral governments are notified that such blockade exists,

and exactly how far it extends. But “paper blockades,” or the mere

declaration that a blockade is in force, are of no account. At the

treaty of Paris, in 1856, the powers declared that “blockades, in order

to be binding, must be effective,” or in plainer words, a force must

actually be stationed on the blockaded ground strong enough to make it

dangerous to attempt to pass it.

“Prize money” sounds very tempting, and its meaning will be given.

When a war is in progress properly commissioned ships are empowered to

capture not only the armed vessels of the enemy, but its merchantmen

as well. These vessels are taken to the country of their captors, the

courts pass judgment upon their value, and if it is proven to be a

lawful prize, it is sold, and the proceeds is called “prize money,” and

is awarded to the captors, the officers and crew, in proportion to their

rank.

The prize money adjudged to them is thus given out in the following

manner:

“1. The commander of a fleet or squadron, one-twentieth part prize money

awarded to any vessel or vessels under his immediate command.

“2. To the commander of a division of a fleet or squadron, a sum equal

to one-fiftieth of any prize money awarded to a vessel of the division

under his command, to be paid from the moiety due the United States, if

there be such moiety; if not, from the amount awarded the captors.

“3. To the fleet captain, one-hundredth part of all prize money awarded

to any vessel of the fleet in which he is serving, in which case he

shall share in proportion to his pay, with the other officers and men on

board such vessel.

“4. To the commander of a single vessel, one-tenth of all the prize

money awarded to the vessel. {375}

[Illustration: 0385]

“5. After the foregoing deductions, the residue is distributed among the

others doing duty on board, and borne upon the {376}books of the ship,

in proportion to their respective rates of pay.

“All vessels of the navy within signal distance of the vessel making the

capture, and in such condition as to be able to render, effective aid if

required, will share, in the prize. Any person temporarily absent from

his vessel may share in the captures made during his absence. The prize

court determines what vessel shall share in a prize, and also whether

a prize was superior or inferior to the vessel or vessels making the

capture.

“The share of prize money awarded to the United States is set apart

forever as a fund for the payment of pensions to naval officers, seamen

and marines entitled to pensions.”

On April 27 our forces bombarded the important city of Matanzas, a rich

and flourishing point, the outlet of the agricultural districts. April

29 the city of Cienfuegos yielded to our shells, and on the 30th of

April the frowning batteries of Cabanas were attacked.

DEWEY'S VICTORY AT MANILA.

|The first great naval battle of the war took place on the 1st of May.

Those whose opinion was considered valuable, declared that on this

battle depended the result of the war--some even prophesying that a

victory here would practically end it.

Another matter which engrossed the attention of the governments abroad,

was the fact that this encounter would serve as a test of the merits of

the modern fighting machine. Should it prove all that was claimed for

it, then in truth, a new departure in naval warfare had come.

The eyes of the world were upon the fleet, which, under the command of

Commodore George Dewey, was hastening toward Manila, the capital of the

Philippines. Just after daylight, Sunday morning of May 1, Manila time,

6 p.m. Saturday, Chicago time, the Olympia opened fire, when two miles

away from the enemy. As she drew nearer, she trained every battery

upon the Spanish fleet, with deadly effect. When the battle was almost

decided, the Reina Christina came out to engage our flagship. {377}

[Illustration: 0387]

She {378}advanced with great bravery, but to no purpose. The big guns

on the Olympia struck her fore and aft, totally wrecking her and setting

fire to her magazine. The Spanish Admiral, Montejo, was standing on the

bridge of his boat, when it was shot from under him. The Spanish sailors

escaped into their boats, fleeing from the burning ship. Montejo carried

his pennant to the Castilla, but five minutes after that ship was set on

fire by the shells.

After two hours' hard fighting, a rest was taken, when the attack was

renewed, and at the expiration of a half hour the long-dreaded and

much-boasted of Spanish fleet was a name only--nothing was left to tell

the tale of her greatness save the transport Manila.

This battle was fought off Cavite, ten miles to the southwest of Manila.

The Spanish fleet, of which so much was predicted by Spain, and which

met with such a crushing defeat, consisted of the following vessels:

Reina Mercedes, cruiser; Reina Christina, cruiser; Isla de Cuba,

cruiser; Isla de Luzon, cruiser; Castilla, cruiser; Don Antonio De

Ulloa, cruiser; Don Juan de Austria, cruiser; Velasco, cruiser; Elcano,

gunboat; General Lezo, gunboat; Marquis del Duero, gunboat; Quiros,

gunboat; Villalobos, torpedo gunboat; General Alava, transport; Cebu,

transport; Manila, transport; Isla de Mindanao, converted cruiser.

The United States fleet was composed of the Olympia, (flagship),

first-class cruiser, Captain C. N. Gridley; Baltimore, protected

cruiser, Captain N. M. Dyer; Boston, protected cruiser, Captain Frank

Wildes; Raleigh, protected cruiser, Captain J. B. Coghlan; Concord,

gunboat, Commander Asa Walker; Petrel, gunboat, Commander E. P. Wood;

McCulloch, dispatch boat; Nanshan, collier; Zafiro, collier. The

magnificent victory of the American Admiral has made his name famous.

His achievement is unparalleled in naval annals, and entitles him to the

proud rank of being the greatest of fleet commanders, a worthy pupil of

his invincible teacher, David G. Farragut. {379}

[Illustration: 0389]

The gratitude and admiration of the nation are his. President

{380}McKinley, as a fitting acknowledgment of his splendid deed, at once

appointed him Rear Admiral in the United States Navy, with access of

pay.

When the Stars and Stripes were hoisted over the Philippine capital, the

rejoicings at home were unbounded. But when the news reached Spain, it

produced a contrary effect; the indignation of that power was profound.

An uprising of the people was feared, and the governors of all provinces

were ordered to place them under martial law at the first serious

outbreak. The cable at Manila was cut by orders of Admiral Dewey, and

thus the court at Madrid was kept in uncertainty as to what was actually

transpiring.

The victory so bravely won was but the predecessor of others which gave

every true American a thrill of pride. Admiral Sampson, commander of the

North Atlantic squadron, arrived at San Juan de Puerto Rico on the 12th

of May, making an early call, as he commenced operations before sunrise,

bombarding the fortifications. The first shot was fired from the Iowa,

captained by Bob Evans (“Fighting Bob”), and it was followed by the

Indiana.

From the halyards of the flagship New York the signal flashed

forth--“Remember the Maine!” The big guns pealed forth seven shots, and

the works felt their force. Fort Morro was left full of gaps, where the

shells had struck it, and torn away the masonry. The frightened populace

fled to the interior, beyond the range of the guns. Word had been sent

ahead by the commander of the American squadron that the works were to

be attacked, thus giving the non-combatants a chance to seek safety.

{381}

[Illustration: 0391]

The first blood on our side was shed at Cardenas, May 12. After a short

encounter of thirty-five minutes between the torpedo boat Winslow, the

tug Hudson and the gunboat Wilmington on the American side, and the

batteries at Cardenas and four Spanish gunboats, our arms were again

victorious. Five Americans fell in this engagement. Ensign Worth Bagley

of the Winslow, a brave North Carolinian, was the first officer to yield

up {382}his life. It is stated that even after the Winslow's starboard

engine and steering gear were useless, the crew kept hurling shot at the

Spaniards on shore, until she was totally disabled.

On the next day, May 13, the Flying Squadron left Hampton Roads, and

made Key West on the 18th. Santiago was the intended point of attack,

and on the 18th also Admiral Sampson thought it time to turn his

attention to that place. The second squadron sent out by Spain,

under Cervera, lay at that time in the harbor of Santiago, in fancied

security.

ROOSEVELT'S ROUGH RIDERS.

|On Friday, June 24, a desperate engagement took place between four

troops of the First Cavalry, four of the Tenth and eight of Roosevelt's

“Rough Riders,” who attacked a force of 2,000 Spanish soldiers, twice

their number, and sixteen men were killed, among whom were Captain Allyn

M. Capron and Hamilton Fish, Jr., belonging to the Rough Riders.

The Rough Riders followed the trail over steep hills that towered many

hundred feet high. The weather was intensely warm, and each man carried

200 rounds of ammunition and his heavy camp equipment. On they toiled up

the narrow path, often so narrow that they could only go in single file,

while the sharp thorns of the prickly cactus tore and scratched them as

they passed through the thick underbrush.

As the day grew hotter they threw away blankets and tent rolls, and even

emptied their canteens. Soon they heard a call like a cuckoo. Every man

was on the alert. They knew now that Spaniards were near, for that was

their cry. A charge was ordered, and they dashed into the thicket.

The rush was so sudden and bold that a panic ensued among the Spanish

soldiers, and after fighting about an hour, they fled, firing as they

ran, leaving fifty dead upon the field. {383}

[Illustration: 0393]

The crack of the Mauser rifles was heard, and the leaves flew from the

trees and chips from the fence post were showered over the heads of the

Rough Riders. The fire was a heavy one. Sergeant Fish was the first man

to fall on our side--shot through the {384}heart. Although the enemy was

but 200 yards away, yet they were so securely hidden in the brush that

only a glimpse of them now and then could be seen. Colonel Wood showed

remarkable coolness, walking along the lines as he gave orders.

Lieutenant Roosevelt rushed into the thicket cheering his men on, who

were as anxious as he to reach the hidden foe. Captain Capron held his

revolver in hand, and sent several of the Spaniards to the ground.

Suddenly his weapon dropped from his hands and he fell, shot through the

body. With his dying breath he cried--“Don't mind me, boys, go on and

fight.” After fifteen minutes more, of hot fighting Lieutenant Roosevelt

ordered his men back, and just missed a bullet which buried itself in a

tree alongside his head. The Spaniards fell back, and ran down one hill

and up another to the blockhouse, it was supposed with the intention of

making a stand there. Instantly the Americans followed them closely, and

poured a storm of bullets into the blockhouse; the Spaniards fled in

haste, and the battle was over. This was the first battle which the

Rough Riders had taken part in, and they proved their valor and bravery

in a brilliant manner.

HOBSON MADE FAMOUS.

|One of the most brilliant exhibitions of pure, unselfish courage ever

exhibited was the act of Lieutenant Richmond P. Hobson. That officer,

who was assistant naval constructor, had succeeded in convincing Admiral

Sampson that there was but one way to prevent Admiral Cervera's escape.

His daring scheme gave the fleet of the Spanish admiral its death

blow. Under the direction of Admiral Sampson he volunteered to take the

collier Merrimac into the channel leading into the harbor, and sink it,

so as to prevent his escape with his ships; In other words, he literally

“bottled” the unlucky Admiral up. {385}

[Illustration: 0395]

He needed but six men to help him accomplish his purpose. Admiral

Sampson explained to the brave sailors that it was a desperate mission,

that death was almost certain, and yet when only six volunteers were

asked for, over 1,000 responded, anxious, glad {386}to be of service to

the cause. Tears filled their eyes as they begged for the honor of

going with the brave commander who had been chosen for the perilous

undertaking, and dying, if need be. It was a gallant deed, and as

the Merrimac steamed into the channel, a furious cannonading from the

Spanish forts greeted their coming, but on they went into the “very jaws

of death,” and amid shot and shell Lieutenant Hobson went to the point

indicated by Admiral Sampson, anchored, and swung across the channel.

Then a hole was blown in the ship's bottom, and a dash was made for

a boat. They were loudly cheered by the Spaniards, who were lost in

admiration of their heroism, and Cervera himself, although he took them

prisoners, sent a flag of truce to Admiral Sampson, by his chief of

staff, Captain Oviedo, in honor of their bravery, offering to exchange

them without delay for Spanish prisoners in the hands of the United

States.

The names of the gallant men who offered their lives so freely

were--Daniel Montague, George Charette, J. E. Murphy, Oscar Deignan,

John P. Phillips, and John Kelly.

After being kept prisoners from June 2 until July 6, Lieutenant Hobson

and the six men who were made prisoners with him, were surrendered by

the Spanish military authorities in exchange for prisoners which we

held. Captain Chadwick, of the New York, escorted them through our

lines. The soldiers were wild with joy, and paid no attention to

discipline or order, so anxious were they to see the heroes of the

Merrimac, whom they wildly cheered. Lieutenant Hobson talked very little

about his experiences, but said the Spanish authorities had treated them

well, and their health was excellent.

The bombardment of Santiago's forts was vigorously kept up. On the 22d

and 23d General Shafter landed at Baiquiri, and moved toward Santiago.

He attacked the Spanish outposts July 1, and a fierce fight raged all

day. He demanded the surrender of the latter place. General Lawton

carried the heights of San Juan, after a determined charge.

DESTRUCTION OF CERVERA'S FLEET.

|Another {387}notable victory, and one of the greatest naval battles

ever recorded, was the total destruction of Cervera's proud fleet, which

was accomplished by Commodore Schley, on the 3d of July. The American

fleet's commander, Sampson, was absent conferring with General Shafter

regarding future movements. Meantime the government at Madrid realized

that the city must fall sooner or later, and it had ordered Cervera to

make one bold dash out of the harbor. This he attempted to do, but was

received so warmly by Schley that in two hours the “invincible” fleet of

the Spanish admiral was a series of wrecks, strewn along the beach for

fifty miles, with a loss of 600 killed, and 1,100 prisoners taken by our

forces, among whom was Cervera himself. The attempted escape was made

with great courage on the part of the Spaniards, who fought to the

last, and when hope was gone, threw themselves upon the mercy of their

captors, who accorded them protection from the Cuban insurgents who had

watched the battle in all its terrible earnestness.

SURRENDER OF SANTIAGO.

|Santiago had not yet yielded, however, and on the 10th of July

bombardment of that town was resumed.

The 14th of July saw the long-expected surrender of Santiago to General

Shafter, and at 12 o'clock noon, the glorious Stars and Stripes were

hoisted over the Governor's palace, and we held the situation. The

American general rode into the city escorted by the Second Cavalry. The

people were very quiet, many of them even showing satisfaction at

the event. Courtesies were exchanged between the Spanish and American

officers, and General Shafter returned to General Toral his sword.

The Spanish flag was displaced by the American--the eternal symbol of

liberty.

On the 26th of July the Spanish government made overtures for peace,

through the French ambassador, M. Cambon, who called on our President

and by proper authority stated that Spain {388}was willing to treat with

the United States, and would like to consider terms. After discussing

the proposal with the Cabinet, President McKinley notified the French

ambassador of his ultimatum. The terms of the protocol were these:

“1. That Spain will relinquish all claims of sovereignty over or title

to Cuba.

“2. That Puerto Rico and other Spanish islands in the West Indies, and

an island in the Ladrones, to be selected by the United States, shall be

ceded to the latter.

“3. That the United States will occupy and hold the city, bay, and

harbor of Manila pending the conclusion of a treaty of peace which shall

determine the control, disposition and government of the Philippines.

“4. That Cuba, Puerto Rico, and other Spanish islands in the West Indies

shall be immediately evacuated, and that commissioners to be appointed

within ten days shall, within thirty days from the signing of the

protocol, meet at Havana and San Juan, respectively, to arrange and

execute the details of the evacuation.

“5. That the United States and Spain will each appoint not more than

five commissioners to negotiate and conclude a treaty of peace. The

commissioners are to meet at Paris not later than the 1st of October.

“6. On the signing of the protocol hostilities will be suspended,

and notice to that effect will be given as soon as possible by each

government to the commanders of its military and naval forces.”

The government of Spain sought to evade the payment of the Cuban debt,

but President McKinley was firm, and declined to discuss the matter

until Spain had accepted his ultimatum. Days passed before our

government received notification through M. Cambon that the Spanish

ministry had approved of his management of the negotiations, and he

had been authorized to sign the protocol. At 4:33 of the same day the

agreement was signed by Secretary of State Day on behalf of the United

States, and M. Cambon, of France, on behalf of Spain. {389}

[Illustration: 0399]

Our {390}President at once issued a proclamation stating that the United

States and Spain had formally agreed upon terms for negotiations

through which peace between the two countries should be established, and

official orders were sent to the various commanders of the forces of the

United States, that all military operations be suspended.

SURRENDER OF MANILA.

|But the latter order did not reach Admiral Dewey in time to prevent his

adding more luster to his name by uniting his naval forces with the land

forces of General Merritt.

July 31 a battle was waged at Malate, a small town half way between

Cavite and Manila. Here General Greene was posted with 4,000 men. Our

troops were strengthening their position, when the Spaniards attempted

to give the Americans a surprise. The rain was pouring down in sheets,

the typhoon was raging furiously, and it seemed a most auspicious time

for the attack. Three thousand Spaniards were massed in the vicinity.

They forced the American pickets in, and assaulted the soldiers in

the trenches. But they did not know the men they attacked. The Tenth

Pennsylvania stood their ground, and were reinforced by the First

California and two companies of the Third Artillery. The mud was up to

the axles, the rain and wind raged wildly, and the enemy was on top of

the trenches, while they sent a withering fire into the ranks of the

Americans, who never wavered, but returned it with earnestness.

The Spaniards retreated in confusion, but were not pursued, as our

infantry had exhausted its ammunition. The scene was a thrilling one.

Darkness covered the earth, save when a flash of lightning lit up the

faces of the dead and wounded, who lay side by side, in the trenches

half filled with water which was red with their blood. Not a cry was

heard from the lips of the wounded, but they spoke words of cheer to

those who were still able to fight.

The fighting began again August 1, but the enemy kept at long range. The

next night they made another attack, but were repulsed, {391}with severe

loss, 350 killed, 900 wounded, while we lost fourteen, and forty-four

wounded.

August 8, Admiral Dewey and General Merritt notified the authorities

in Manila that unless they surrendered the city to them in forty-eight

hours a combined attack by the land and naval forces might be expected.

When that time had expired the Spanish officials asked one day more

so that they might remove the women and children, which request was

granted.

When the foreign warships were appraised of the intended attack, they

prudently got out of range. The English and Japanese warships joined our

fleet at Cavite, while the French and German ships went to the north of

the city, where they were safe. At 9:35 on Saturday, the 13th, a shell

was fired from the Olympia and hissed dangerously near the fort at

Malate. The other boats began a rapid fire upon the intrenchments. A few

feeble replies came from the Spaniards.

The battle was short. In half an hour General Greene ordered an advance,

and six companies of a colored regiment sprang over the breastworks

and sought the shelter of some hedges about 300 yards from the Spanish

lines. Then the remaining six companies moved along the shore, partly

hid by a ridge of sand and at 11 o'clock were in the stronghold.

At this critical moment 2,000 Spanish soldiers came on the scene, but

they did not engage the Americans. As soon as the white flag was seen,

General Merritt, who had made the steamer Zafiro his headquarters,

sent General Whittier, with flag lieutenant Brumby to meet the captain

general and discuss a plan of capitulation. The terms were agreed to by

Jaudenes, and were as follows:

“An agreement for the capitulation of the Philippines:

“A provision for disarming the men who remain organized under the

command of their officers, no parole being exacted.

“Necessary supplies to be furnished from the captured treasury funds,

any possible deficiency being made good by the Americans.

“The {392}safety of life and property of the Spanish soldiers and

citizens to be guaranteed as far as possible.

“The question of transporting the troops to Spain to be referred to

decision of the Washington government, and that of returning their arms

to the soldiers to be left to the discretion of General Merritt.

“Banks and similar institutions to continue operations under existing

regulations, unless these are changed by the United States authorities.”

At once Lieutenant Brumby hastened away to take down the Spanish flag.

Two signal men accompanied him. At Fort Santiago, in the north part of

the city, they, were vigorously hissed when the flag of Spain was hauled

down, and the flag of the free rose grandly in its place.

This day's battle resulted in a loss on the American side of eight

killed and thirty-four wounded, while the Spanish had 150 killed and 300

wounded.

The Americans captured 11,000 prisoners, 7,000 of them being regulars;

20,000 Mauser rifles, 3,000 Remingtons, eighteen modern cannon, and many

of the old pattern.

Thus ended a war which has covered us with glory--a war we did not

invite, but which was forced upon us in the interests of humanity; a war

which has taught European nations to respect us as a great power. May it

be the last which our nation is drawn into. May the dawn of peace herald

the day when wars shall be no more; when wise counsels and generous

arbitration shall decide questions of moment between nations.

War has a terrible meaning; it means desolated homes, and bitter

tears shed for those who come not; it means angry passions and cruel

expressions of them; it means want and suffering and the humiliation of

defeat for one side or the other. May the days of rancor end forever!

{393}

[Illustration: 0403]

ANNEXATION OF HAWAII.

|In connection with the war so recently concluded, we should mention

the annexation of the Hawaiian Islands, a measure which {394}has been

agitated for many years, and the conflict only increased the sentiment

in favor of making them part and parcel of our Republic.

The islands comprise a group of eight, and were discovered by Captain

Cook in 1788. They are important to us from their commercial value, and

also from their strategic uses, and the necessity for a closer relation

has been recognized by nearly every President and Secretary of State

through all the successive administrations.

After many long and arduous debates, the vote for and against annexation

was taken by Congress, and an overwhelming majority declared in favor

of annexation, and Hayti with her vast commerce, her rich agricultural

productions became a member of our great body politic, and on Friday,

August 12, the American flag waved over Honolulu, the capital of the new

“Territory of Hawaii.”

PUERTO RICO.

|The city of Santiago had not yet fallen. Bombarding had, however, long

since ceased, and negotiations for the peaceful surrender of the city

had been going on for several days, when General Miles arrived and

assumed personal command of the army that was massed there. General

Shafter of our forces and General Toral, of the Spanish, could not

easily agree as to terms, but on the 16th the conditions of surrender

were decided upon. By this agreement, about 5,000 square miles, the

capital of the province and the entire army of Toral, fell to our share.

Santiago was ours. The ceremony sealing the surrender was impressive,

though simple. Early as 9 o'clock the division and brigade commanders

reported to General Shafter, and all took up the line of march toward

the city. About halfway, under a lofty tree, General Toral with some of

his officers awaited their coming. As General Shafter approached this

tree the Spanish general raised his hat with dignified politeness,

and the American general returned the bow. Quickly the soldiers of the

Spanish side came through the hedge, preceded by the king's guard,

200 {395}strong, {396}while two trumpeters and a color bearer led the

column. Marching and countermarching they halted in front of our men,

and only ten yards away.

[Illustration: 0405]

Thus they stood, curiosity and excitement plainly visible in their

faces, although they were motionless as statues. The trumpets then rang

out, a Spanish officer gave a word of command; their colors were lowered

to salute ours, they presented arms and their officers removed their

hats. Captain Brett gave the word, “Present sabers,” and downward

flashed our sabers. General Shafter removed his hat, as did his staff.

The stillness of the morning air was broken by the command of the

officer in charge of the king's guard, they filed past our soldiers,

who presented arms until the last man of the guard had gone by. Then the

Spaniards marched toward Santiago, stacked their rifles which were of

the Mauser pattern, and then, with neither arms nor flags, went back to

their camp. Thus ended hostilities around Santiago.

Early in July the yellow fever began to attack the men of Shafter's

army, but it was of a mild type, but it would have done incalculable

injury had not the officers of the Fifth Army Corps addressed a protest

to General Shafter who sent it to the War Department at Washington. The

officials there hastened to transport the troops as fast as they could

back to the United States and sent “immunes” to Santiago to do garrison

duty.

An expedition commanded by Major General Nelson A. Miles left the bay

of Guantanamo July 21, and sailed for Puerto Rico, reaching the port of

Guanica July 25. This move was intended as a surprise, and a complete

one it was to the Spaniards, who did not dream of an army of invasion

attacking them. The naval part of the expedition comprised the

Columbia, Gloucester, Dixie and Yale, and was in charge of Captain F. J.

Higginson. General Miles was on board the Yale. The troops were carried

by the transports, of which there were eight. The Gloucester, with the

expectation that the harbor was full of mines, went pluckily in, and

found five fathoms of water very near shore. The first hint of an

invading army at their door, was {397}the boom of a gun, demanding that

the Spanish flag come down, from a blockhouse east of the village.

They took aim with the next two shots at the hills on either side of

the bay, so as not to injure the women and children. The Gloucester then

laid to, and sent a launch on shore, without being molested.

Quartermaster Beck sent Yeoman Lacy to haul down the obnoxious flag, and

up went our glorious Stars and Stripes, the first that ever floated over

the soil of Puerto Rico.

But the Spaniards, though apparently making no resistance, suddenly

opened fire with thirty Mauser rifles. Lieutenant Huse and his men, who

had gone ashore in the launch, returned the fire with telling effect,

their Colt gun being equal to the occasion.

Without waiting, the Gloucester opened fire with all her armament and

shelled the town. Lieutenant Huse put up a small fort, calling it Fort

Wainwright, and laid down barbed wire so as to repel the cavalry

attack, which he expected. A few of the cavalrymen joined those who were

fighting, but reinforcements had come for the Americans, and after some

more vigorous fighting, at 9:45, with the exception of a few scattering

shots, the town was won, and silence succeeded the din of battle.

The plans of General Miles had been faithfully carried out, and he went

ashore at noon. He next turned his eyes toward Ponce, determined to

shell that town if necessary. While he had given the inhabitants of

Puerto Rico a surprise, he received one in return at the hands of the

people of Ponce, for when the Wasp steamed up to the shore, instead of a

force of soldiers arrayed against them, they found everybody in town

had turned out, and was waiting to receive them with open arms. Ensign

Curtin stepped nimbly on the beach, as though he did not doubt their

sincerity, and was surrounded by people forcing presents upon him and

his men, and saluting them with shouts of welcome.

A message was sent to the Spanish commander demanding that the town

surrender, and Colonel San Martin acceded at once upon General Miles'

assurance that the garrison should be allowed {398}to leave, that the

civil government be permitted to continue its functions, that the police

and fire brigade patrolled without weapons, and that the captain of the

post should not be held a prisoner.

These conditions were reasonable enough, and were acceded to, and the

rejoicings of the populace were enthusiastic. It was a genuine ovation,

and more like a grand festive occasion than the surrender of a town to a

foe.

When General Wilson landed, the local band played “The Star Spangled

Banner.” The celebration went on, even after the United States troops

landed. The people dressed in their finest garments as though it were a

holiday, and kept open house.

General Miles issued a proclamation to the effect that our army came not

to devastate the land or to interfere with existing laws or customs,

and all that he required was obedience and order. He told them that the

military forces were brought there to overthrow the arms of Spain and

to give them the fullest amount of liberty consistent with the military.

occupation of their island.

An invitation from the city officials at the city hall was given him,

and when he entered the park which surrounded it, the local band played

“See, the Conquering Hero Comes,” to which he responded by taking off

his hat, and saluting the vast crowd. The band then played several of

our national airs.

The news that peace was near was a disappointment to General Miles,

as he had planned a masterly movement with great care, and had it been

carried out it would have taught the Spaniards an invaluable lesson.

Puerto Rico was occupied with a very small loss--two killed and

thirty-seven wounded. {399}

[Illustration: 0409]

GENERAL FITZHUGH LEE.

|When a successor to the Cuban consul-generalship was needed, President

Cleveland selected Fitzhugh Lee for this important post. The health of

Ramon Williams, former consul-general, had failed so visibly that he

could no longer attend to its arduous {400}demands, and so in the spring

of 1896 the choice of the president fell upon Mr. Lee, as the most

suitable man for the place.

Fitzhugh Lee was born in Stafford County, Virginia, in 1835, and came of

an illustrious family. His grandfather had served in the Revolutionary

war, being the famous “Lighthorse Harry,” and he himself was the nephew

of General Robert E. Lee--both of which facts insure the existence of

courage and tact in the subject of our present sketch. His wise and

patriotic administration of the duties of his office as consul won for

him in a very brief time the confidence and admiration of the entire

country, and the judgment of Mr. Cleveland was long since indorsed by

it.

His father was an officer in the navy, but the young boy had no taste

for a sea-life--his leaning was toward the army. So to West Point he

went, from which he graduated in 1856 with a high record, and became

a lieutenant of cavalry on the frontier, for five years, repelling the

attacks of the Comanche Indians. He received an arrow in his lungs, in

one of these engagements, but youth and a good constitution prevailed,

and he recovered. He became an instructor in cavalry tactics at West

Point, when only twenty-six years of age. But when the civil war

broke out, he resigned his commission, and joined the fortunes of the

confederacy, where his record as a brave and dashing soldier is well

known. It is said of him that he always showed great coolness and

composure, in times of battle, never seeming to have any anxiety as to

the result. His resolute and daring demeanor was contagious, and he was

much beloved by the men whom he commanded.

He is a magnificent horseman. During the war of 1861 he owned a fine

mare, Nellie, a graceful creature, to whom he was much attached. She

was struck by a shell at the battle of Winchester, and a fragment of the

same shell tore her master's leg badly. {401}

[Illustration: 0411]

All through the war he was a fearless, honest adversary, and when peace

came he retired to his native county, where he led {402}the quiet,

unpretending life of a farmer and miller. He was married in 1871, and

was peculiarly happy in his home, devoted to his wife and children.

In 1875 he was persuaded to engage in political matters, and was sent

to the national convention of 1876 as a delegate. Ten years later he was

elected governor of Virginia and served to the complete satisfaction

of his people. His political record is as worthy of the man as was his

military, and no finer example of both can be found. When Mr. Cleveland

entered upon his second term he made Fitzhugh Lee collector of internal

revenue, at Lynchburg, Virginia. His official position at Havana

remained unchanged, when Mr. McKinley entered the executive chair,

the latter being well aware that no better example of what a brave,

cultivated and level-headed American gentleman should be, was afforded

than by General Lee. He was respected by the Spanish officials for

his firmness in looking after the interests of his countrymen, and his

unvarying courtesy to every one with whom he came in contact.

He was, however, treated with great rudeness on his farewell visit to

the Spanish Captain-General Blanco, that person refusing to see him, on

the pretext of being too busy. And when he entered the boat which was

to bear him to the steamer, the Spanish rabble at the docks showered

insulting epithets upon him, but with that dignity which is native to

him, he paid no attention to them, but made the remark that he would be

back with troops before long, to uphold him.

All honor to General Lee. He has proven himself capable of self-control,

and the man who can govern himself, can govern others successfully. And

we trust that at some future day this gallant and chivalrous soldier may

receive some gift at the hands of the nation worthy of his ability.

ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY.

|To speak of this brave sailor as a hero, is to utter but faint praise.

He was born in Montpelier, Vermont, sixty-one years ago, and was the

youngest of three boys. Not one of his elders could have {403}foreseen,

when he was a boy, how proud they would become at a future day, of their

young townsman. As a boy he was full of mischief, loving adventure and

ever ready for anything that came along. In fact this great man was just

like all other boys--he felt the world was his, and all that was in

it, to enjoy! At school he proved himself an apt student, quick to

comprehend his lessons, and a ringleader in all kinds of sport, but

hating anything small or mean in his associates. He was also a great

favorite with older people.

He came of a prominent family, his father being a doctor, and two of his

name, both nephews, are said to inherit much of the Dewey talent. When

he was a lad, the town of Montpelier was very small, but it had great

pretensions, as it was the capital of the State, and naturally attracted

the best elements of society, men and women of education and character,

the former of whom had been chosen to represent the people of the State

in her legislative halls. In such an atmosphere of culture young Dewey

grew into manhood, and to his early advantages (his parents holding

high social standing) he owes that polish of manner which he is said to

possess in a remarkable degree.

He was much of a reader when he was a youth, and the books he read were

upon naval matters. Sea stories and tales of travel were his delight. It

is told of him about this time, to show how little he waited for events

to shape themselves, that he planned to go on a fishing excursion with

two schoolmates. The hour was to be four in the morning, but he was not

to be found, and so they started for the river without him. When they

reached the fishing grounds he had been there two hours, and had an

enormous string of trout which he had caught. At the time the boys

called it unfair, but in telling it now, the narrator calls it a good

evidence of his habit of doing for himself, and not waiting for anyone's

prompting. As he expressed it,--“You see he didn't wait till next

morning before going into Manila harbor.”

His fondness for the water led him to spend his play hours on rafts and

on an old ferry which was not used by the town.

Once {404}he thought he'd cross the ferry in an old leaky buggy of his

father's. Not being able to get the horse into the water, he took the

box off the running gear and tried to run it across as a boat. He came

very near drowning, and would have perished but for timely assistance.

His birthplace has sent forth many notable people, lawyers, doctors,

statesmen, but of all the renowned names she claims, her greatest boast

is that Commodore Dewey was born within her limits.

He was sent to the military school at Norwich, Vermont, at the age of

fifteen. Here he stayed two years, at the end of which he concluded that

he would rather enter the navy than be a land soldier. His father was a

man of influence, and easily got him appointed at Annapolis.

In the year 1858 he graduated, and passed three years of service aboard

ship before the war of 1861 broke out. He received his commission as

lieutenant on the 19th of April, 1861, a few days before Fort Sumter was

fired upon. He was sent at once to the steam sloop Mississippi, which

joined the West Gulf squadron, and he was with Admiral Farragut when

that gallant sailor forced an entrance to the Mississippi River.

The boat had a hot fight in March, 1863, when it tried to pass the

Confederate batteries at Port Hudson. A heavy fog prevailed, so dense

not an object could be seen; they lost their bearings, and ran into

shore right under the guns of one of their heaviest batteries. They were

the recipients of 250 shots, which tore the boat from one end to the

other, but the gloom of the fog proved a blessing, after all, as it

enabled the crew to take to their boats and escape, after setting their

sloop on fire.

In 1870 he was given his command, when he did good work on the

Narragansett. Until 1876 he surveyed the Pacific coast, when he became

inspector of lighthouses. {405}

[Illustration: 0415]

He commanded the Juniata in 1882-83, and was made a captain in

September, 1884, when he took charge of the Dolphin. This boat was one

of the four vessels comprising the original “White Squadron.” Honors

still flowed in upon him, for the next {406}year he took command of the

Pensacola, belonging to the European squadron, on which he stayed till

1888, when he was made chief of the bureau of equipment and recruiting,

as Commodore. This position he filled until 1893, when he became a

member of the lighthouse board.

It was not until February 28, 1896, that he received the commission of

Commodore, and in January, 1898, he was placed in command of the Asiatic

squadron.

But it remained for him to eclipse all records in his daring fight at

Manila, which is probably the greatest naval battle ever fought, and

ranks its commander among those names that will never be forgotten. The

action was so brilliant, so decisive, that President McKinley named him

for a rear admiral in the United States Navy, and the Senate without a

dissenting voice confirmed the nomination. He deserved it richly,

and great as is the honor, still greater is the esteem, the love,

the gratitude of the American nation for this grandest of naval

commanders--George Dewey, the generous and manly conqueror on the sea.

ACTING REAR ADMIRAL SAMPSON.

|This distinguished and gallant officer is a native of New York, he

having been born at Palmyra, that State, fifty-eight years ago.

He was a boy of very industrious habits. Loving the sea with ardor, his

sole ambition was to obtain a nautical education. But he was not rich

in this world's goods, and he could not go to Annapolis unless he could

earn the money in some way to pay for his training there. So he worked

as farmer's boy, raking hay and splitting rails, or doing any labor that

would bring him the coveted reward.

But though he was not rich, he had friends who admired his manly spirit,

and among them was Congressman E. B. Morgan, of New York, who used his

influence to get him appointed to the naval school toward which his eyes

so longingly turned. Here he proved worthy of the privilege, and when he

graduated {407}in 1860, when just twenty years of age, he held the

rank of Lieutenant, and was put on the frigate Potomac, where he became

master, then executive officer of the Patapsco. This boat met a hard

fate, being blown up in the harbor of Charleston in 1865.

His promotions came rapidly, first being made Lieutenant-Commander in

the navy, then Captain, and finally Acting Rear Admiral.

But it is not alone as a sea commander that he has won renown. He

has served as a member of the Board of Fortifications and Defences,

Superintendent of the Naval Academy at Annapolis, Chief of the Bureau

of Naval Ordinance, and he was also President of the Maine Board of

Inquiry.

He does not enjoy the sweets of domestic life to any great extent, his

time on shore being so limited; but he is very happily married, and

passes all of his leisure with his wife, and sons and daughters, in his

beautiful home in Glenridge, New Jersey.

COMMODORE W. S. SCHLEY.

|Among the “boys” of 1861 may be mentioned Admiral Schley, whose deeds

have given him a world-wide fame. He was of the class of 1860. Winfield

Scott Schley was a midshipman in the early days of the civil war, and

many are the comical stories told of his youthful days--among others,

was that this now redoubtable commander was dubbed “Peggy,” owing to the

“trousers” he wore in those days, which were excessively peg-topped, or

balloon-shaped. Another story is that he had a very small foot, No. 5

fitting it easily. Of this fact he was boyishly vain. He did duty on the

Niagara at that period, and his pranks were numerous, for he had a great

love of fun, and yet was a very orderly, well-disciplined sailor.

He graduated near the foot of his class, so he could not have been very

studious, however, his after career has been one series of brilliant

successes.

Commodore Schley was born near Frederick, Maryland, in 1839, and

{408}even as a baby came under military influence, for his father,

who had served in the navy in the war of 1812, was very friendly

with General Scott, and named the child after that warrior. His early

ancestors were stanch Huguenots, coming to this country after the

revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and one of them was afterward a

Governor of Georgia.

He entered the Naval Academy in 1856, remaining there till 1861. He

was given duty then, being assigned to the frigate Potomac, and a year

later received command of the Winona, which belonged to the blockading

squadron of the West Gulf. He knew real war, for he was in many

skirmishes on the Mississippi, and in July, 1862, became Lieutenant,

serving with distinction from 1864 to 1866 as executive officer of the

Wateree, a steam gunboat, at the Pacific station.

He received a gold medal from Congress, and the position of Chief of

Bureau of Equipment from President Arthur, afterward being made Captain,

for his bravery in rescuing Lieutenant Greeley and six others at Cape

Sabine, and carrying them safely home.

He wedded a lovely young woman, Miss Nannie Franklin, at that time the

belle of Annapolis. He has two sons, one Frank, an officer in the army,

the other, Winfield Scott Schley, Jr., is a physician of great repute in

New York City. His daughter, Virginia, is the wife of an Englishman of

position.

ENSIGN WORTH BAGLEY.

|Life is sweet to all--especially so to the young. And yet it is sweeter

to die for one's country; to know that the last throb of the heart beat

for the cause of liberty and humanity. Such a fate was that of young

Ensign Worth Bagley, the first officer to fall in our late war with

Spain. The life of this young man was brief, to have achieved so much;

he was only twenty-four years old, having been born in Raleigh, North

Carolina, on the 6th of April, 1874. Yet he had known in that short time

all of life's experiences--pleasure, pain and honors--all compressed

into the {409}few years of his existence. His father was an editor and a

lawyer, and enlisted in the first company raised on the Confederate side

in the county in which he lived. He fought bravely, and never abandoned

the fortunes of the Confederacy until 1864, when he went home on parole,

and was elected to the Senate of his State.

His son, young Worth, a fitting name for the boy, had cause to be proud

of his ancestry, on both sides, his father's family being well versed

in law, politics and business, and his mother's family being originally

Quakers. She was the daughter of one of the governors of Virginia.

But Worth Bagley's boyhood engages the attention of the young, most. He

grew up under good influences, and as a boy was a model of courtesy

and gentlemanly bearing; a favorite in the schoolroom or playground, he

loved his home, and was equally beloved within its walls. Possessed of

a noble and unselfish nature, how could it be otherwise than that he met

appreciation? He was a very apt scholar, learning rapidly, and retaining

it as firmly.

His father died when he was twelve, and it is a beautiful record that he

became his mother's comfort. He was the oldest son, and seemed to feel

that she needed his counsel and protection.

When only ten he entered a classical school, with the intention of

preparing for college. He loved the sea, and was appointed a cadet at

the naval academy at Annapolis, when he was a little over fifteen, the

youngest member of his class. How happy he was when he received the

appointment. He was of a sunny temper, full of jests and laughter,

writing the most loving letters to his “dearest little mother,” as he

called her. He despised anything that took on the character of tattling.

“Hazing” was strictly forbidden at the Academy, but he was subjected

to it, and when called before the commandant and asked the names of the

classmen who had participated in it, he answered firmly that he meant no

disrespect, but he considered it dishonorable to tell on his classmates.

He was threatened with punishment, unless he would tell, but he still

refused, {410}and was sent to a ship which was used as a place of severe

discipline for cadets who disobeyed any of the rules. Here he was kept

eighteen days in confinement, and possibly he would have remained a good

many days longer, had not the cadets who had done the hazing confessed

their share in it, and begged for his release.

When the time came for his examination he fell below the mark, and he

wrote at once to his mother, giving her the reasons for his failure,

and saying that he hoped the Hon. B. H. Bunn, Member of Congress whose

influence had secured him the appointment, would use it in his behalf

once more. Mrs. Bagley took the letter to that gentleman, and he

promptly made out the papers for the grateful boy. All went smoothly

after this, and he graduated in the class of 1895, when he was put on

the receiving ship Vermont, and one month after he went to the cruiser

Montgomery. Again he was transferred to the Texas in October. On the

20th of January, 1896, he was sent to the ill-fated Maine, where he

remained six months, then being sent back to the Texas, which boat

he remained with till he returned to Annapolis to take his final

examination, which was successful, for he was made an ensign on the 1st

of July, 1897.

He was quite a musician, and sang in the Naval Academy choir. His

letters home were gems of wit, breathing the most sincere devotion to

his friends.

His first service as ensign was on the Indiana, but three months of

1897, from August 17 to November 19, were passed on the Maine, as

executive clerk to Captain Sigsbee. He was then ordered to Baltimore as

inspector of the Columbian Iron Works, which firm was fitting out the

torpedo boat Winslow.

When Lieutenant Bernadou was given command of this boat he sought for

the best junior officers, and among the names presented Worth Bagley's

stood high, but he was reluctant to leave Captain Sigsbee, to whom he

was much attached, and to whom his services were almost invaluable. But

he was persuaded to accept the post offered, and on the 28th of December

he entered on his duties.

He {411}was a hero. He went out in a lifeboat, with two sailors, and

rescued two men who were adrift on a scow some fifty miles from New

York, with a frightful storm raging, and brought them aboard. The

Secretary of the Navy wrote a letter of approval to Lieutenant Bernadou,

Ensign Bagley and the crew, commending the heroism of all on the

Winslow.

Of the fatal engagement in Cardenas Bay, May 11, 1898, the whole world

knows. He gave his life for his country on that day, without fear or

flinching, his last words being as cheerful as though it was a

holiday. There was some delay in heaving the towline and he called out

cheerily--“Heave her. Let her come--it's getting pretty warm here.” They

were the last orders this brave and grand young officer ever gave. The

next moment the bursting of one of the enemy's shells sent Ensign Bagley

to his last home.

May his life be an incentive to the young, to do their duty in all

situations and in all places as nobly and faithfully as did this brave

boy.

OUR NAVY.

|Nearly every one understands the terms used in the military branch

of service, but since the war has had such extensive use for the naval

forces, and so many engagements have taken place on the sea, it has been

the source of much perplexity as to the various titles in use by the

navy department.

When older and wiser heads are puzzled by the many terms, it is

necessary that our young readers receive a little instruction as to

their meaning. We therefore give them in full, knowing that the boys

(and the girls also) will be pleased to learn that officers are divided

into two classes--the line or navigating, and fighting officers, and

the staff, or specialists, such as engineer, medical, pay, construction

corps, the civil engineers and chaplains. The grades of the

line officers are rear admiral, commodore, captain, commander,

lieutenant-commander, lieutenant, lieutenant junior grade, ensign, naval

cadet.

Of the staff officers the engineers have three grades--chief engineer,

{412}passed assistant engineer and assistant engineer. The medical corps

is divided into medical director, medical inspector, surgeon, passed

assistant surgeon, assistant surgeon. The pay corps includes in order

pay directors, pay inspectors, paymasters, passed assistant paymasters,

assistant paymasters. The construction corps comprises naval constructor

and assistant naval constructor. Then there are the chaplain, civil

engineer and professor of mathematics. Before one comes to the enlisted

men are the boatswain, gunner, sailmaker and carpenter; the enlisted men

or crew are divided into three classes--seamen, artificers and _special_

class.

The pay of the officers varies from $500 a year, which the naval cadets

get, to $6,000 paid rear admirals. Each officer at sea is allowed thirty

cents a day for rations. This thirty cents he may turn into cash and

pocket, for officers pay for their food and uniforms out of their own

salary. If he desires the officer may actually draw the rations instead,

but most of them prefer their private larder.

The enlisted men in the navy are paid from $9 a month--apprentices of

the third class--to $65 or $70 a month--chief machinists. The insignia

of their rank worn by the multitude of officers great and small is quite

bewildering and unintelligible to the uninstructed dweller on land, so

many and different are the stars, crosses, bands, colors and chevrons.

CONCLUSION.

|The authors labors are finished; but it is with almost a feeling of

sadness that he parts company with those for whose pleasure he has told

his experiences. In the pages of this volume the man has lived again

his days of boyhood when his heart was aglow with the fire of youth and

patriotism, as his country called him to the battlefield. Of the many

painful scenes, of the tedious marches, privations and dangers, that

war ever brings, he has told the boys and girls who have followed his

transcript of those days. Another war has been forced upon us, and the

man {413}feels the same ardor burn within his breast, the same longing

to join the ranks as he did in the far-away days of '61.

True, this war that has just ended was not so terrible in its aspect as

was that one which roused his youthful energy, for that was a contest

between brothers, the late one was between our forces and those of

another clime, but none the less sad and gloomy were its accompaniments.

But one glad ray of brightness cheered the gloom. The nation has joined

hands and those who were once divided have together fought valiantly for

one common cause--the honor of their country. From the far-off North and

the sunny South, the boys in blue and gray have taken up arms and stood

side by side, equally heroic, equally ready to defend the right. Is not

this a cause for thankfulness?

Shall we not have still greater cause for joy when strife shall cease

forever--the strife that brings bloodshed in its train? Will not the

whole earth be purer and better were it to accept the grand invitation

of the Czar of all the Russias, to consider a plan by which friendly

relations shall be established all through the world? He proposes laying

aside the weapons of war, and disbanding great armies--thus bringing

about a time of universal peace, when questions of possession and

precedence may be decided by arbitration. This noble plan is a step

toward that brotherhood of nations which alone can make them truly

great. No exigency could arise which could not be settled by an appeal

to the calm judgment and love of fair play which would prevail.

This beautiful thought is possible, and we welcome the coming of that

glad day when “wars and rumors of wars shall cease.”