Arnold for the country's sake, made a plan to seize him shortly
after his escape. An officer named Campe deserted the American army,
by Washington's orders, and--narrowly escaping recapture by his
comrades, who were not in the secret--swam out to a British vessel
anchored in New York Bay. The enemy, having breathlessly watched his
escape from his pursuers, welcomed him warmly, and, without asking
any questions, allowed him to enlist in Arnold's new regiment.
Campe intended, with the help of two other patriots, to seize and
gag Arnold when he was walking alone in his garden, as he did every
night. Thence they meant to convey him to a boat, row him secretly
across the river, and hand him over to one of Washington's most
devoted officers, Henry Lee, who was called "Light-Horse Harry," to
distinguish him from the Lee who disgraced himself at Monmouth.
Unfortunately, on the very night when Campe's plan was to have been
carried out, Arnold took his regiment on board a vessel in the bay,
and sailed south to fight for the British in Virginia. There poor
Campe had to wait for months before he got a chance to desert Arnold
and rejoin his countrymen. Until then all his fellow-soldiers had
believed him a real deserter; but after welcoming him cordially,
Washington and Lee publicly told the others how nobly Campe had
tried to serve his country, and how nearly he had secured the
traitor.
While fighting in the South, we are told, Arnold once asked one of
his prisoners, "What do you suppose my fate would be if my misguided
countrymen were to take me prisoner?" The man, who was a good
American, promptly answered: "They would cut off the leg that was
wounded at Quebec and Saratoga, and bury it with the honors of war;
but the rest of you they would hang on a gibbet."
LXXX. A TRAITOR'S DEATH.
Before continuing the story of the Revolutionary War, it is well to
finish this painful story of a traitor. After fighting against his
country in Virginia, and burning many houses and villages there,
Arnold was sent into Connecticut, where he set fire to New London,
watching the flames from the church tower. But soon after this
Arnold went to London, where he spent most of the rest of his life,
with few friends.
We are told that no one respected him there, and once, when he went
into Parliament to hear the speeches, a member pointed right at him,
saying: "Mr. Speaker, I will not speak while that man is in the
house." Another time Arnold was introduced to a British officer who
had fought against him at Saratoga. But, while this man had then
admired him for his courage, and would have been proud to know him,
he now refused to shake hands with him, curtly saying that he could
not endure traitors.
A gentleman who did not know Arnold's story once asked him for
letters of introduction to his friends, saying he was about to sail
for America. But the traitor sadly answered: "I was born in America;
I lived there to the prime of my life; but, alas! I can call no man
in America my friend." In fact, even his children were so ashamed of
what he had done that two of his sons changed their name as soon as
they grew up.
After living thus twenty years, bereft of his own as well as
public respect, Arnold on his deathbed begged for the epaulets and
sword-knot which Washington had once given him, and cried: "Let me
die in my old American uniform, in which I fought my battles. God
forgive me for ever having put on any other!"
Arnold was buried in England. While his victories are honored
in America, his treachery has made his name so disliked that it
is always coupled with the words "the traitor." The battles of
Saratoga, where he, Schuyler, and Morgan really won the victories
attributed to Gates, are kept in mind by history and by the
beautiful monument at Saratoga. There you can see four niches. Three
are occupied by statues of Gates, Schuyler, and Morgan; but the
fourth--which was to contain a statue of Arnold--must always remain
empty!
The sadness which filled all patriot hearts in the country at the
news of Arnold's treason was, however, soon made more bearable by
the welcome tidings of a victory in the South--the battle of Kings
Mountain (1780).
[Illustration: Battle of Kings Mountain.]
More than a thousand of the British troops took up their position on
the top of this mountain, and their leader then cried: "Well, boys,
here is a place from which all the rebels outside of hell cannot
drive us!" Still, a smaller number of patriots climbed up by three
different paths, and, hiding behind rocks and trees, killed many of
the British, and took the rest prisoners.
General Greene, taking command of the American forces in the South
after Gates's defeat at Camden, found himself at the head of a
ragged and almost famished army. But stout hearts beat beneath
tattered garments, and the forces under Morgan soon after won a
great victory at Cowpens (1781).
The cruel Tarleton was in command on this occasion, and during the
battle he was wounded by Colonel William Washington, a distant
relative of the general in chief. In speaking of the battle
afterwards, Tarleton scornfully remarked to an American lady that
Colonel Washington was so ignorant a man that he could not even
write his own name. As people who could not write in those days were
in the habit of making a rough mark instead of signing their names,
the lady archly said, pointing to his wound: "Ah, colonel, you bear
evidence that he can at least make his mark!" When Tarleton later
added that he wondered what Colonel Washington looked like, the same
lady slyly said: "Had you only looked behind you at Cowpens, you
might have had that pleasure."
LXXXI. TWO UNSELFISH WOMEN.
When the battle of Cowpens was over, and the few remnants of
Tarleton's force had fled to join Cornwallis, the latter marched
forward, hoping to catch up with Morgan's army and crush it with
his superior force before it could join Greene's forces. Both
armies were therefore anxious to reach the ford over the Ca-taw´ba
first, and tramped ahead as fast as possible, stopping to rest only
when the men were completely exhausted. But, in spite of the great
odds against him, Morgan finally managed to give Cornwallis the
slip, and, crossing at the ford, was soon joined by Greene. The two
generals continued the retreat, cleverly tempting Cornwallis to
follow, until finally the whole American army was safe beyond the
Dan River in Virginia.
We are told that it was during this race for the Dan that Greene
once stopped at the house of a patriot Southern lady, Mrs. Steele.
She quickly supplied him with warm garments and food, and hearing
him say he could not pay her because he was penniless, she brought
him all her savings, which she forced him to accept and use for the
sake of his country.
It seems also that in the course of this campaign the Americans
laid siege to a house which served as a fort for British soldiers.
Although Light-Horse Harry Lee was very anxious to secure these men,
he soon found that he could not drive them out of the house. He
therefore asked Mrs. Motte, owner of the place, whether she would
allow him to set fire to it, to force the British out.
She not only consented to this,--although the house was all she
had,--but brought Lee an Indian bow and arrows, so that he could
shoot bits of flaming wood upon the shingled roof. The house was
thus soon in flames, and the British, seeing they would be roasted
alive if they staid in it, and shot if they tried to escape,
promptly surrendered. Then the fire was put out, and as it had not
yet gained much headway, Mrs. Motte did not, after all, lose the
house which she had been willing to sacrifice for the sake of her
country.
As was the case all through the Southern campaign, the British were
very cruel; still, a few patriots managed to escape from their
clutches. For example, one of Tarleton's men once ordered a prisoner
to give him the silver buckles he wore. The man proudly bade the
Englishman take them if he wanted them. Knowing that he would be
slain if he did not escape, the American killed the man kneeling
before him, and, jumping on a riderless horse, dashed away. Before
any of the four hundred men around there thought of pursuing him, he
was out of reach.
As soon as his men had rested a little from their fatigues, Greene
again led them against the British, whom he met at Guil´ford
Courthouse in North Carolina. Here, although the Americans behaved
with great valor, the British won the victory. But it was at the
cost of so many lives that when Fox, a British statesman, heard of
it, he sadly exclaimed: "Another such victory would ruin us!"
The site of the old Revolutionary battlefield at Guilford Courthouse
is now a beautiful park. Here are many interesting statues, and
in the museum, among other curiosities, you can see British and
American flags peacefully crossed, showing that after the war was
over the two parties generously forgot the past and were ready to
meet as friends.
After the battle of Guilford Courthouse, Cornwallis retreated to
the coast, and Greene turned his attention to the British forces
farther south, with which he fought the battles of Hobkirk Hill and
Eu´taw Springs. In the latter engagement, Marion, surrounded by
the foe, encouraged his brave men by saying: "Hold up your heads,
boys! Three fires, three cheers, and a charge, and you are free!"
During the same engagement one of Lee's men found himself alone and
without arms in the midst of the enemy. With great presence of mind,
he seized an officer, wrenched his sword out of his hand, and, using
him as a shield, fought his way back to his friends.
Though Greene was often defeated and never won a great victory, the
British loudly complained that he never knew when he was beaten.
But while Greene modestly described his own doings as, "We fight,
get beat, rise and fight again," he and his two thousand men were
little by little driving the British out of South Carolina. Indeed,
by their brave efforts the Americans finally recovered both South
Carolina and Georgia, with the exception of the cities of Charleston
and Savannah.
LXXXII. THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS.
Retreating from the Carolinas, Cornwallis marched into Virginia
to take the place of Arnold, whom the British had been watching
closely, lest he should betray them, too. Clinton now bade
Cornwallis keep near the coast, so that he could embark quickly and
come to the rescue of New York, in case Washington should suddenly
attack it.
The fact was, though, that Washington had no intention of doing
anything of the sort. On the contrary, he had laid his plans to
catch Cornwallis in Virginia, where he had sent Lafayette some time
before. As he did not wish Clinton to suspect this plan, Washington
wrote letters saying he meant to take New York, and cleverly
contrived that they should accidentally fall into British hands.
After reading them, Clinton felt so sure he knew all about the
American plans that he did not stir.
There was no telegraph in those days, and it was a great surprise to
Cornwallis when the French fleet, under De Grasse (grahss) suddenly
appeared in Chesapeake Bay. Thus, even before Clinton suspected the
Americans' intentions, Cornwallis was hemmed in at Yorktown between
Lafayette's troops and De Grasse's fleet, and Washington was rapidly
marching southward to help them.
Hoping to check Washington's advance, or even force him to come
back, Clinton now sent Arnold into Connecticut, where, as we have
seen, he burned New London. This base deed so angered a lady whose
guest he had once been, that she tried to shoot him, we are told,
and would have done so, had not her gun missed fire.
Arnold, and the British officers with him, proved very cruel all
through this campaign; and when one of them seized Fort Griswold,
near New London, he haughtily demanded, "Who commands here?" "I
did," courteously answered the American officer, coming forward to
surrender his sword, "but you do now." The British officer took the
weapon, ran it through its owner, and coolly bade his men kill all
the garrison in the same way.
Although the news of pillage, burning, and murder was carried to
Washington as quickly as possible, he did not--as Clinton perhaps
expected--turn around to defend Connecticut, but kept steadily on.
As he marched by, all good Americans wildly cheered him, crying:
"Long live Washington! He is going to catch Cornwallis in his mouse
trap!" Indeed, such was the faith people had in him that an old
patriot, coming into the room where he was dining, raised his arms
to heaven and solemnly cried, like Simeon in the Bible: "Lord, now
lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen
thy salvation."
On his way to Yorktown, Washington paid a flying visit to his home
at Mount Vernon, which he had not seen since he left it to attend
the Continental Congress six years before. There he learned that it
would have been burned to the ground, had not his steward bribed
some British soldiers to let it stand. When Washington heard this,
he gravely said that he would rather lose all he had, than save it
by making friends with his country's foes.
Reaching Yorktown,--where Cornwallis had once boasted that
he would soon capture "that boy," as he scornfully termed
Lafayette,--Washington found all his orders so well carried out
that the bombarding of the city could begin without further delay.
The French fleet and American army worked together to such good
purpose that before long it became plain that Cornwallis would have
to yield. During this siege a gentleman carefully pointed out his
own house, advising Washington to batter it down first with his
cannon; for he thought that Cornwallis must have selected it for his
headquarters, because it was the best in town.
Washington, who was never wounded in any battle, stood on a height
directing the movements of his troops. He was in such an exposed
place that some of his aids, hoping to make him change his position,
ventured to remark that they were in great danger. "If you think
so," answered Washington, quietly, "you are at liberty to step
back." But as he did not move, the others bravely stood their ground.
A moment later a ball struck a cannon only a few feet off, and
General Knox impulsively cried, "My dear general, we can't spare
you yet!" and tried to drag him away. But Washington carelessly
remarked, "It's a spent ball," and stood there like a rock until
he saw the redoubt taken. Then he joyfully exclaimed: "The work is
done, and well done!"
Washington was right; the work was done, and the patriots' troubles
nearly over. Cornwallis, finding himself unable to escape or receive
help, was forced to surrender on the 19th of October, 1781. But his
pride was so hurt at having to give up his sword, that he pretended
illness, and sent one of his officers to carry it to Washington.
The latter, remembering how the British had tried to shame General
Lincoln at the surrender of Charleston, therefore bade the British
officer deliver it to Lincoln.
The next day, when the British troops marched out of Yorktown
between the French and American armies, their bands dolefully
played: "The World Turned Upside Down." Washington, ever considerate
of people's feelings, had given strict orders that his soldiers
should not jeer at the enemy, or make any unkind remarks. This order
was obeyed, but Lafayette, seeing that the British--who had made
such unmerciful fun of him--did not even look up, suddenly bade his
band strike up "Yankee Doodle." At this hated sound the British all
started, and Lafayette had the boyish satisfaction of knowing that
they had seen him heading part of the forces which had conquered
them.
[Illustration: The Surrender of Cornwallis.]
LXXXIII. THE BRITISH FLAG HAULED DOWN.
The news of the surrender of Cornwallis filled all American hearts
with joy; for our people knew, as well as the British, that the war
was now ended. The tidings reached Philadelphia at night, while the
watchman, making his rounds as usual, was passing up and down the
streets. To the customary announcement of the time, and the cry,
"All's well," he therefore added, "and Cornwallis is taken!"
The joy of this event proved fatal to the old doorkeeper of
Congress, while on all sides bells were rung and loud cheers were
heard. On the next day the members of Congress marched in a body to
church, to return thanks for the "victory of a great and good man in
a great and good cause." But when the news reached England it caused
great dismay. We are told that Lord North fell back as if struck by
a cannon ball, and gasped: "O God, it is all over!"
[Illustration: Washington's Headquarters at Newburgh.]
Although the War of Independence was really over, and several
Americans went to Europe to settle the terms of peace, British
troops staid in America some time longer, and kept possession of
Savannah and Charleston about a year. Washington, therefore, did
not dare dismiss his army. To keep better guard over the British
at New York, he collected all his forces at Newburgh. But although
there was no more fighting, Washington's presence was more sorely
needed than ever, for the men, having received only a small part of
their long-promised pay, and unable to go home and work for their
destitute families, were restless and discontented. In fact, even
the officers thought Congress managed things badly, and wished to
make Washington king.
Had Washington thought of himself more than of others, or been
unduly ambitious, he could now have gone, at the head of the army,
to overthrow Congress and take the power into his own hands, like
Cæsar and Napoleon. But Washington was a real patriot, and had no
thought beyond the good of his country. He therefore sent for his
officers, and made them a little speech.
In reading a letter from a congressman, promising that they should
receive their dues, he had to take out his glasses, and as he put
them on he quietly begged them to excuse him, saying: "My eyes have
grown dim in the service of my country, but I have never doubted
her justice." In his address he urged them not to tarnish the glory
of their past services by rash conduct, and explained that Congress
would soon settle their just demands. Such was the reliance placed
upon his mere word, and the good influence he had over every man
in his army, that all now consented to wait patiently until their
services could receive their reward.
While Washington was thus keeping the soldiers in order, Franklin
was in Europe, treating for peace. In 1782 George III. formally
announced that he would recognize the independence of the United
States, and closed his speech by saying he hoped that the same
"religion, language, interests, and affections might prove a bond of
permanent union between the two countries."
[Illustration: RESULTS OF THE WAR FOR INDEPENDENCE
BOUNDARY DEFINED BY TREATY 1783]
The treaty, however, was signed in Paris, on the 3d of September,
1783. On this occasion Franklin donned the suit of Manchester
velvet clothes which he had worn ten years before, when insulted
in Parliament, and which he had vowed never to use again until
his country was free. By this treaty the seacoast from Maine to
Georgia was given up to the United States, together with all the
land between the Great Lakes and Florida, westward as far as the
Mississippi. At the same time, the British gave Florida back to
Spain.
The news of this treaty was followed by the departure of the British
soldiers from New York. They sailed away, leaving their flag still
floating from the top of the liberty pole. Here some soldiers had
nailed it fast, carefully greasing the pole so that the Americans
should not haul down their colors until they were at least out of
sight.
But a clever New York boy, seeing that it was useless to try to
climb the greased pole in the usual way, ran into a neighboring
store, and soon came back with a pocket full of nails, some cleats,
and a hammer. Nailing a cleat a short distance up, he stood upon
it to nail another still higher, and, climbing thus from point to
point, reached the top of the pole, tore off the British flag, and
replaced it by the American colors, amid the cheers of the assembled
people!
LXXXIV. WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL.
Washington had already disbanded his army in Newburgh, when, on the
eighth anniversary of the battle of Lexington, the war was formally
declared to be over. Now, the British having gone, it remained only
to bid farewell to his officers. On this occasion he said: "With
a heart full of love and gratitude I now take leave of you. I most
devoutly wish that your latter days may be as prosperous as your
former have been glorious and honorable. I cannot come to each of
you to take my leave, but I shall be obliged to you if each of you
will come and take me by the hand."
General Knox was the first to advance, and Washington drew him
toward him and kissed him. He also embraced all the rest--in dead
silence, for all hearts were too full for speech. The officers then
followed him to the boat and silently watched him out of sight. From
New York, where this parting took place, Washington went direct
to Annapolis, where, on the 23d of December, 1783, he received
the formal message: "The United States, in Congress assembled, is
prepared to receive the communications of the commander in chief."
Washington then appeared before that body to lay down the heavy
charge which he had borne so bravely for nearly eight years. He
again refused to accept any reward for his services but handed over
the exact account of his expenses, proving that he had spent more
than sixty-three thousand dollars of his own money for the good of
his country.
Then he went back to his farm at Mount Vernon, to take up again
his usual work. He had been longing to do this for some time, for
farming was his chief pleasure. Knowing this, his officers formed
a society of which they made him head. They called themselves the
Cincin-na´ti, in honor of a Roman patriot, Cincinnatus, who left his
plow to save his country from danger, but hurried back to it as soon
as the war was over.
[Illustration: The Mount Vernon House, South Front.]
Instead of other pay, many of these officers and of the continental
soldiers now received grants of land in what was then called the
Northwest Territory. There they soon settled, working hard, and
serving their country just as nobly by being good farmers, good
citizens, good husbands, and good fathers as they had done by being
good soldiers in the Revolutionary War. Before long, towns sprang up
in the wilderness, and one of them was named Cincinnati, in honor of
the society of which Washington was the first president.
But there were others besides the soldiers who were anxious to
get back to their families. Foremost among these was the worthy
Franklin, who had spent nearly nine years in France, looking after
the interests of his country. He had seen the Peace of Paris signed;
and when he reached Philadelphia, just sixty-two years after his
first visit, he was welcomed with loud cheers and great rejoicings.
He deserved all the cheering and honors he received, for he had
been second only to Washington in the services he had rendered his
beloved country.
As it was now decided beyond doubt that the former colonies were
to be free states, independent of Great Britain, the Story of the
Thirteen Colonies is ended. There is still to be told the Story of
the Great Republic which was formed from these colonies, and which
has grown to be one of the foremost nations in the world.
INDEX.
Key to pronunciation.--VOWELS: ā in lāte, ă in făt, â in câre,
ä in fär, ȧ in lȧst, a: in fa:ll, ạ in wạs, au in author; ē in
mē, ĕ in mĕt, e= in ve=il, ẽ in tẽrm; ī in fīne, ĭ in tĭn, ï in
polïce, ĩ in fĩr; ō in nōte, ŏ in nŏt, ȯ in sȯn, ô in fôr, ọ in
wọlf, o: in do:, oo in loop; ū in tūne, ŭ in nŭt, ṳ in rṳde,
ụ in fụll, ü = French u; ȳ in mȳ, ў in hўmn. CONSONANTS: ç in
çent, ¢ in ¢an; ġ in ġem, ḡ in ḡet; ñ = ny in barnyard, ṉ = ng,
N = ng, but is silent; qu = kw; ş = z; -th = th in then. _Italic
letters are silent._
PAGE
A´bra-ham, Plains of, Wolfe victorious at, 212
A-cā´di-a, claimed by Cartier, 174
conquered by New Englanders, 188
farmers driven out of, 209
French settlement in, 102, 105
name changed to Nova Scotia, 188
Ä´co-ma, "Sky City", 68
besieged by Spaniards, 77-79
Coronado visits, 68
Oñate visits, 76
Adams, John, draws up Declaration of Independence, 250
Adams, Samuel, advice of, 226, 227
at Lexington, 229, 234
called "Father of Revolution", 229
proposes Washington as general of army, 238
quoted, 259