although he was no soldier. This man was Franklin, and as he is one
of the greatest men in our history, it will surely interest you to
hear a little about him.
Born in a poor family in Boston, the lad was named Benjamin,
probably because he was his father's twelfth child. With so many
brothers and sisters older than himself, Benjamin was not spoiled.
As they were all very poor, he was often obliged, small as he was,
to help his father make soap and dip tallow candles, a work he
greatly disliked. But as there had been free schools in New England
from the very beginning, Benjamin learned to read out of the New
England Primer when only a tiny boy. He has told us many stories of
himself; among others, one of his childhood which you ought to know,
because it has given rise to an American proverb.
It seems that Benjamin once had a few pennies. This was a great
fortune for so small a lad, and although his brothers and sisters
teased him to know what he was going to buy with them, he would not
tell. On the street, one day, he saw a big boy blowing a whistle
with all his might. This whistle so fascinated little Benjamin
that, after talking to its owner awhile, he gave all his pennies in
exchange for the toy.
Marching home, Benjamin proudly exhibited his treasure, thinking he
had made a great bargain and bought the finest thing in the world.
His disappointment was very keen, therefore, when his brothers told
him that it was only a common whistle, such as he could have bought
anywhere for one penny! Ever since then, when any one pays too much
for pleasure, or anything else, people have said: "He has paid dear,
very dear, for his whistle."
As was the custom in all Puritan families, the Franklins had long
prayers, and they said such a lengthy grace before meals that hungry
little Benjamin often grew impatient. As their breakfasts generally
consisted of smoked and dried herring, he once suggested that his
father should say grace over the whole barrel, so that he need not
stop to repeat it every time the fish was served!
Franklin's father was too poor to let him go on with his studies,
so at twelve Franklin became apprentice to an older brother, the
printer of the fourth newspaper issued in our country. Here Franklin
learned to set type and to handle the rude press then in use. He
also began to write, and as he did not want his brother to know it,
he disguised his handwriting, and slipped his contributions under
the shop door at night.
These articles, written by a boy of fourteen, proved so able that
the brother read them aloud to his friends, who greatly praised
them, little suspecting that they were written by the apprentice
setting type in the corner. But Benjamin's elder brother proved so
unkind to him that the boy left Boston at seventeen, and, embarking
upon a coasting vessel, went to New York, where he vainly sought
employment.
There he heard that work was to be had in Philadelphia, then the
largest city in our country. A stage ran between that place and
New York twice a week, making the journey in two days. This rate
of travel seemed so very rapid then that this coach was generally
called the "Flying Machine." But as Franklin did not have the means
to pay for a seat in this conveyance, he embarked on a sloop,
working his way. After several days' tacking, a long, weary tramp,
and a row on the Delaware, he landed in Philadelphia early one
morning.
By this time he had only a few pennies left, which, as he felt
hungry, he soon gave to a baker for three large rolls. The small
amount of luggage he had with him was thrust into his coat pockets,
and with a roll under either arm, and one in his hand, Franklin
strolled down the street, munching his bread as he walked along. A
girl standing on her father's doorstep laughed at the awkward lad
passing by, little thinking that a few years later she would be his
wife.
[Illustration: Franklin's Entry into Philadelphia.]
Finding employment in Philadelphia, Franklin worked hard, studying
as much as he could after hours. Every book he could buy or borrow
was eagerly read, and he paid small sums to booksellers for the loan
of their volumes overnight, sitting up late and rising early so as
to get all he could out of them. Franklin loved books so dearly
that he soon learned a great deal about foreign countries. He longed
to visit them, and therefore gladly welcomed a proposal to go to
England and buy a printing press.
As the governor of Pennsylvania promised to supply the necessary
funds, Franklin set out; but upon landing in England he found that
the governor had deceived him, and that there was no money to be
had. Alone in a foreign land, without means or friends, Franklin
again sought employment, and worked for an English printer during
the next few years. By dint of hard work and great economy, he
managed to save money enough to bring him back to Philadelphia, at
the age of twenty. Then, after working as clerk and printer for a
while, Franklin set up in business for himself, and married.
Besides printing a newspaper,--for which he wrote the articles,
set the type, handled the press, and even carted the paper to his
shop in a wheelbarrow,--Franklin soon began to publish a pamphlet
called "Poor Richard's Almanac." It contained not only the usual
information about sunrise and sunset, the moon, tide, and weather,
but many short sayings, full of good advice. They were so easily
remembered, and so often quoted, that some of them have become
household sayings. A few are: "No gains without pains." "Never leave
that till to-morrow which you can do to-day." "Time is money." "Keep
conscience clear, then never fear."
[Illustration: A Page from Poor Richard's Almanac.]
You might think that Franklin was busy enough with all this work;
still, he managed to learn a great deal besides French, German,
Spanish, and Italian, which he studied alone and at night. He
founded the first public library in Philadelphia, the University
of Pennsylvania, and the first fire brigade, the first insurance
company, and the first hospital in the city. Besides that, he
invented the first good stove, advised paving the streets, and was
constantly in political office from the time he was thirty until he
died, at the age of eighty-four.
Franklin was so interested in sciences that he studied them closely,
too; and in 1752, after thinking the matter over a long while, he
decided that lightning must be the same thing as the electricity
produced by rubbing a cat's fur. He therefore determined to bring
lightning down from the clouds, to find out whether he was right.
After many experiments, he built a kite, fastened a sharp point to
it, and flew it one stormy day. He had taken all his measures so
carefully that he thus really drew down some electric sparks from
the sky.
As Franklin was a very practical man, he immediately made use of
this knowledge to invent lightning rods for protecting churches and
houses from thunderbolts. His discovery, ridiculed at first, soon
became known abroad, and thus Franklin was the first American who
won a European reputation.
Franklin's kite-flying paved the way for all the wonderful
discoveries since made in electricity, many of which he then
foretold, although people thought he was only joking. Indeed, we
are told he even demonstrated the deadly effect of a live wire
by killing a turkey on the other side of the river! When his
discoveries became known in Europe, they created a great sensation,
and the "Franklin experiments" were for a while all the fashion.
LV. BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT.
In 1754, Franklin, deputy postmaster-general of the colonies, was
sent to Albany, where, as we have already seen, a congress of
delegates from the colonies met to discuss the best way of opposing
the French. Franklin, knowing that it was only by working all
together that the best results could be reached, now made a plan for
the union of the colonies.
As one can often make people understand things better by telling
them stories or showing them pictures, Franklin remembered the
common belief that a snake, cut into pieces, would become whole
again if the parts were allowed to touch. He therefore placed at
the head of his paper the picture of such a snake, cut into pieces
to represent the colonies, which he further indicated by their
initials. Under this picture he wrote the motto: "Join or die."
Although the colonies did not adopt Franklin's plan of union, they
nevertheless voted men and money for the war. The British, on their
part, sent over General Braddock, one of their best officers, to
take charge of the campaign. Meeting the governors of the different
colonies in Virginia, Braddock decided that, while one army marched
north from Albany to take Forts Ti-con-der-o´ga and Crown Point
before going on to Quebec, a second should move westward from the
same point to Lake On-tā´ri-o and Niagara.
In the meantime, a fleet was to sail from New England to join
the first army in besieging Quebec. But the fourth and principal
expedition, led by Braddock himself, was to march across
Pennsylvania to Fort Duquesne, so as to drive the French out of the
coveted Ohio valley. This plan was very fine; but Braddock, used to
the European way of fighting, little knew how to carry on war with
the French and Indians in the pathless forests.
Washington now advised Braddock, his superior officer, to leave the
heavy baggage and cannons behind; but the British general would
not consent. After much delay, the Pennsylvania farmers loaned
their wagons and horses to carry the baggage, thanks to Franklin's
personal efforts, and the army set out. But as Braddock insisted
upon the army's marching along in an orderly file, a road had first
to be built, and Washington once impatiently said that they stopped
"to level every molehill."
[Illustration: At Braddock's Defeat.]
Washington knew it would be best to advance rapidly and surprise
Fort Duquesne; but the army moved slowly until, at about eight miles
from the fort, it was suddenly attacked by the French and Indians.
The British soldiers, clad in red and marching in close ranks,
made fine targets for their enemies, who, as usual, hid behind
every tree and rock, whence they poured a deadly fire upon them.
Braddock bravely rallied his men again and again; but not knowing
how to fight unseen foes, they were helplessly slain. The general
himself, after seeing great numbers of his men and officers fall,
was mortally wounded, and had to order a retreat.
In the midst of this horrible scene, Washington and his Virginian
soldiers alone kept cool. Four bullets passed through Washington's
coat, and two horses were killed under him, for the Indians aimed
specially at him. But all their bullets failed, and they afterwards
said with awe that he surely bore a charmed life, and that no shot
could ever touch him.
Nearly all the officers were killed, but Washington managed to cover
the retreat of the British, and their wounded general was picked up
and borne off the battlefield of the Mo-non-ga-he´la. Braddock was
now full of remorse for not following Washington's advice, and he
died four days later, saying: "Who would have thought it? Who would
have thought it? We shall better know how to deal with them another
time."
Washington sadly buried the brave general in the Pennsylvania
woods, making the army march over his grave, so that no trace of
upturned soil should betray to the Indians his last resting place.
Then the beaten and disheartened troops slowly made their way
back, encouraged by Washington, who, going afoot, shared all their
hardships, and relieved the weary men by loading their muskets and
baggage upon his own horse.
The army marching westward from Albany had, in the meantime, paused
discouraged at Os-we´go, while the one moving northward beat the
French on the shores of a lake, which they called George, in honor
of the victory won for their king (1755). The French officer
Dieskau (dees´kow) was captured there, and among the English dead
was Ephraim Williams, who left his fortune to found the college in
Massachusetts which bears his name.
Fearing that the Acadian farmers, who still spoke French and loved
their mother country, would turn against them, the British now tried
to make the peasants take an oath of fidelity. When they refused,
the men and boys were bidden to assemble, and then, after some
delay, they and their families were sent on board British ships and
taken away (1755). In the confusion several families were separated.
[Illustration: Expulsion of the Acadians.]
Thus ruthlessly torn from home, the Acadians were scattered
throughout the colonies. Many made their way to Louisiana, so as
to be still under French rule; others escaped into the woods;
and a few spent long years vainly seeking those they loved. If
you care to learn how one girl wandered thousands of miles in
quest of her lover, you should read Long´fel-low's beautiful poem
"E-van´ge-line."
LVI. WOLFE AT QUEBEC.
Until 1756, the war between the French and the British raged only in
America; but after that it broke out in Europe also, where it was
known as the "Seven Years' War."
The French sent over Mont-calm´, one of their best generals, who,
helped by the Indians, soon took and burned Oswego. Next, he
captured Fort William Henry, which the Americans had just built; but
he promised that the garrison should leave under safe escort (1757).
His Indian allies, however, loath to see the foe depart unharmed,
suddenly attacked them, and killed many. Montcalm bravely and vainly
tried to stop this, crying: "Kill me, but spare the English who are
under my protection."
This year of 1757 was, on the whole, a disastrous one for the
British; but during the next, the tables were turned. The principal
statesman in England was then William Pitt, a good friend to the
American colonies. Knowing that, unless prompt measures were taken,
the British would lose the main part of their possessions in
America, Pitt sent over men with great stores of arms and money.
The British and American troops, properly equipped, now started
out again to carry out Braddock's plan. This time, Forbes was in
command, ably assisted by Washington, and they forced the French to
abandon Fort Duquesne. Near its ruins the British built a stockade
which was named Pittsburg, in honor of William Pitt.
Upon returning to Virginia after this triumph, Washington, who had
lately married a widow with two children, quietly took his seat
in the House of Burgesses. To his dismay, the Speaker praised him
for all he had done for his country. Embarrassed by this speech,
Washington arose and vainly tried to make the proper response, until
the Speaker, seeing his predicament, kindly said: "Sit down, Mr.
Washington; your modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the
power of any language I possess."
A few months before the seizure of Fort Duquesne, the British
captured the fortress of Louisburg for the second time, and Fort
Frontenac was destroyed. Thus, step by step, the French were driven
into Canada, where James Wolfe, a brave young British officer, was
ordered to take Quebec. Now, Quebec is built upon a high rock, and
it was impossible to reach its citadel from three sides. But Wolfe,
thinking that it could be attacked from the Plains of A´bra-ham,
went up the river past the city, and then, one night, drifted
noiselessly downstream toward the place where he wished to land.
Wolfe was a charming young man, loving art and poetry, and as he
went down the St. Lawrence, he mentioned a poem of Gray's, saying:
"I would rather be the author of the 'Elegy Written in a Country
Churchyard' than have the glory of beating the French to-morrow."
Then he repeated the following lines with deep feeling:
"The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike the inevitable hour;
The paths of glory lead but to the grave."
As the brave young man seemed to foresee, the path of glory was
to lead him also to the grave. A few minutes later, his boats
came within range of the French sentinels, and their challenge was
answered in such good French that they let the boats pass. After
landing, Wolfe climbed up the steep path, and had his army all drawn
up for battle on the Plains of Abraham the next morning.
[Illustration: Battle of Quebec.]
Montcalm, taken thus unawares, led out his troops and fought
bravely; but he was defeated by Wolfe, who, as well as Montcalm,
was mortally wounded in the fray. The French commander breathed his
last a few hours later, saying: "Thank God, I shall not live to see
Quebec surrender!"
His equally brave young enemy, dying on the battlefield, heard his
men cry: "They run! they run!" Breathlessly he inquired, "Who run?"
but when he heard that it was the French, he fell back, saying: "Now
God be praised! I can die in peace."
This memorable battle, fought in 1759, is commemorated by a monument
on the Plains of Abraham, on which the names of both generals are
carved. There is also a famous monument in West´min-ster Abbey, in
honor of Wolfe, the conqueror of Quebec.
The fall of Quebec decided the fate of the French in America. They
had already lost the Ohio valley, Forts Ticonderoga and Crown Point,
and soon after, Montreal surrendered too.
Although the last French and Indian War was now over in America,
the war between France and England continued until 1763, when it
was ended by the treaty of Păr´is. Because more land changed hands
on this occasion than ever before, the treaty of Paris is known
in history as the biggest land deal ever made. To Great Britain
France gave up Canada and her claims to all the land east of the
Mississippi, except New Orleans. For herself she kept only two
small islands in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, on which to dry fish.
Spain, siding with France in this war, received from her ally all of
Louisiana west of the Mississippi, and the city of New Orleans. To
recover Havana, which had been taken by a British fleet, Spain gave
up Florida, which had belonged to her ever since Ponce de Leon first
visited it in 1512.
[Illustration: Wolfe's Monument in Westminster Abbey.]
All these changes did not please everybody, and the Indians so
disliked the English rule that, led by Pon´ti-ac, one of their
chiefs, they began a war which bears his name (1763). In the course
of this struggle seven forts were taken, and many settlers cruelly
slain.
The garrison at De-troit´, however, having been warned that the
Indians were planning a surprise, showed so brave a front that
Pontiac failed to get possession of that place. But some of his
allies had better luck at Michilimackinac. They assembled near there
as if to play a game, and tossing their ball nearer and nearer the
palisade, finally made a wild dash through the open gates. The
garrison was butchered, and only one trader managed to escape. Then,
after continuing this war some time longer, the Indians were forced
to submit, and three years later, Pontiac, the leader of the revolt,
was shot by an Indian who had been bribed to kill him.
LVII. HOW ENGLAND TREATED HER COLONIES.
The people in England had seemed to think all along that the
colonies in America ought to do all they could to enrich England.
Their idea was that the mother country had a right to the earnings
of the colonies, so they treated the colonists like little children,
not old enough to think or work for themselves.
Among other things, the English made laws about trade and navigation
which were very good for England, but very bad for the colonies.
For instance, they said that the Americans should not sell their
tobacco, rice, sugar, furs, etc., to any country except England.
Any colonist having any of these things for sale had to put them on
English ships, and pay freight to carry them to England. Then he had
to pay duty before his produce could be sold. Some other articles
could be sold to other countries, provided they were sent over in
English ships. But no vessels from foreign countries were allowed to
come into any of the American ports, either to buy or to sell; and
if a colonist wanted something from France, he had to get it by way
of England, although it cost him much more.
As if all this were not bad enough, the English were so anxious
to sell the goods they manufactured, that they said the Americans
must buy of them, instead of making such articles for sale. Thus,
a farmer could hammer out rough tools for his own use from the
iron dug up on his land, but he could not make even a hoe for his
neighbors in any other colony.
[Illustration: Spinning.]
The women, who spun and wove their own flax and wool, cut and
made ordinary family garments, and plaited straw, which they sewed
together for hats, could not even sell a pair of mittens in the
next colony. If the New Englanders wanted to exchange codfish for
Virginia tobacco, they either had to send it by way of England, thus
paying for its being carried twice across the Atlantic, or else they
were obliged to pay heavy duties.
In her fear that the colonies would sell to other countries anything
she could use, England even forbade Americans to cut down any very
large or straight trees without her permission. She said that all
this timber should be kept until she needed it as masts for her
vessels.
Of course, the colonies did not like this, but they bore it for
a long time as patiently as they could. Other countries did not
approve of England's trade and navigation laws, either. Both the
French and the Dutch, for instance, wanted to trade with the
colonies. As the coast was very long, and there were customhouse
officers in only a few of the towns, some foreign vessels managed to
slip into small bays unseen, and thus began smuggling goods in and
out of the country.
As long as France owned Canada, smuggling could not very well be
stopped, for French or Dutch vessels caught along the coast said
that they were on their way to or from Canada, and that they had
been driven out of their course by contrary winds. But when the
last French and Indian War was over, foreign vessels no longer had
any excuse for coming near North America. The British, therefore,
declared they would now seize any foreign vessel they met, and
search any house where they fancied smuggled goods could be found.
Orders to search houses were called search warrants. They gave
government officers the right to go over every part of a dwelling,
and look into every closet and drawer. But people like to feel that
their houses are their own, and that no one can come in unless
invited. Knowing that those search warrants would make it easy for
any officer who happened to dislike them to annoy them constantly,
the Americans naturally objected to them.
The man who first spoke publicly against these search warrants, in
the old statehouse in Boston, was James O´tis. When he declared that
this was not right, he was told it was done in Great Britain as well
as in America. Otis then answered that, as the British had a share
in making that law, they were, of course, obliged to obey it. But he
added that the Americans had no seats in the British Par´lia-ment,
had had no share in making the law, and were therefore not bound to
respect it.
Many of the colonists agreed with Otis, so the British officers did
not dare offend them by making frequent visits to their houses; but
they kept ships along the coast to chase all suspicious vessels and
see whether they had any foreign goods on board. This proceeding was
almost as disagreeable to the colonists as searching their houses.
One of these boats, the _Gas´pee_, in pursuing a colonial vessel,
ran ashore in Narragansett Bay, Rhode Island, in 1772. Before it
could be worked off the shoal,--which is still known as Gaspee
Point,--a number of the best citizens of Providence came in disguise
and set fire to the ship. But although the British said their flag
had been insulted, and tried to find the guilty parties, they never
could lay hands upon them.
LVIII. THE STAMP TAX.