For twelve years after the defeat of the French, the English colonists in
America, though suffering many things, prospered. A patriotic, vigorous
race had possession of the new world—men who loved liberty, knew their
rights, and dared maintain them. Their civil institutions were founded
on liberal principles, and the sovereignty of the people recognized.
Time and conflicting interests had somewhat weakened the ties that
bound them to the mother country. Already numbering near two millions,
though nominally subject to the crown they had, for generations, managed
their affairs with more hindrance than help from the ruling class in
Great Britain. Agriculture was the chief industry, and the products
had become extensive; but commerce hampered by many restrictions was
carried on awkwardly, and often with little profit to the producers.
Manufacturing enterprises were discouraged and hindered by arbitrary
enactments respecting them. The colonists felt the wrongs they suffered,
but endured them till the hindrances and burdens became intolerable.
Their complaints unheeded and their petitions spurned, nothing could
longer delay the bold, defiant assertion of their rights, or quell the
spirit of indignant resentment. The most thoughtful had reluctantly come
to regard war as inevitable, and resolutely prepared to meet the demands
that would be made on them. The differences between the home government
and the colonists were of long standing and about matters of such vital
interest to the latter, they could make no compromise. The king and his
ministers claimed the right to tax, at their pleasure, two millions
of British subjects who were allowed no representation in Parliament.
This was denied steadily and with emphasis—every attempt to enforce,
however indirectly, the claim was watched and defeated. Enactments that
were regarded oppressive were either evaded or openly set at naught.
The duties required could not be collected. No matter how plain the
law, governors who held office by the appointment of the king could not
enforce it, and the recusant merchants and manufacturers, if arrested and
tried, were not convicted. Applications to the courts for warrants to
seize goods were resisted—and neither search nor seizure was found quite
safe for those who attempted it.
In 1763 officers were directed to confiscate all merchant vessels
engaged in what was declared unlawful trade, and English war ships were
sent to the American coast to enforce the order. This exasperating
measure ruined for a time trade with the West Indies, but failed to
intimidate. The next year the odious Stamp Act was passed requiring all
deeds, articles of agreement, notes, receipts, checks and drafts to be
written on paper bearing the government stamp, and taxed from three
pence to six pounds sterling, according to the purpose for which it
was prepared. Franklin, who labored hard to prevent the passage of the
act, was sadly disappointed and wrote to a friend at home: “The sun of
American liberty has set—we must now light the lamps of industry and
economy.” “Be assured,” said the patriotic friend in reply, “we shall
light torches of another sort.” And they did. The paper was manufactured
and sent over in large quantities, but no market was found for it. In
New York and Boston much of it was seized and publicly destroyed, while
whole cargoes were carried back to England. The people were thoroughly
aroused and indignant. Crowds of excited men collected in the towns, and
acts of violence were committed against any who proposed submission.
The ringing words of Patrick Henry in the Virginia legislature, and the
resolutions sent out from that body boldly declaring that the colonists,
as Englishmen, would never submit to be taxed without representation,
startled the people. Some were alarmed, but most expressed hearty
approval. About the same time similar action was taken by the New
York and Massachusetts legislatures, and the question of an American
Congress, suggestive of a separate nationality, was agitated. The
patriotic society known as “The Sons of Liberty” was now organized, the
members being pledged to oppose tyranny and defend, with their lives,
if necessary, the sacred rights of freemen. Merchants in the principal
cities bound themselves to buy no more goods from English houses until
the offensive act was repealed, while the people with wonderful unanimity
resolved to deny themselves all imported luxuries. The storm that was
seen to be gathering caused some hesitation in Parliament. The English
manufacturers and merchants, whose products and merchandise remained
in their storehouses, became alarmed, while a few eminent statesmen as
Lord Camden, and Pitt in the House of Commons, espoused the cause of the
colonists and denounced the folly of the administration. “You,” said
Pitt in a powerful speech, “have no right to tax America. I rejoice
that Americans have resisted.” The result was the necessitated repeal
of the unwise measure. To cover their retreat from the position taken,
and to conciliate the Tories, the act to repeal was accompanied with a
declaration of “right to bind the colonists in all things whatsoever.”
Nobody seemed to care much for their harmless declaration, and for a
brief space there was quiet, if not peace.
A year later there was a change in the ministry, and, in an hour of
unparalleled folly, another scheme was brought forward to levy a tax in
a slightly different form—a duty on sundry specified articles, such as
glass, paper, printers’ colors and tea. The resentment was immediate and
indignant. It seemed like adding insult to injury, and denunciations of
the attempt, both in popular assemblies and by the press, were prompt
and bitter. Early in 1768 the legislature of Massachusetts adopted a
circular calling on the other colonies for assistance in a determined
effort to have redress. This, more than all that orators or editors could
say, exasperated the British lords, who in the name of the king enjoined
the legislature to at once rescind their action, that was pronounced
treasonable, and to express regret for such hasty proceedings. The sturdy
Massachusetts men, who had counted the cost, were not in a temper to do
anything of the kind, but instead they almost unanimously re-affirmed
their action; nor would they disperse at his bidding when the Tory
governor, with authority dissolved the Assembly. They knew the peril of
the situation, and their great disadvantage in having among them and over
them civil officers appointed by the king, while his armies held all the
forts and arsenals of the country. But there was no alternative. They
must accept a servile condition or offer manly resistance and take the
consequences. For this they were ready, and the people ready to sustain
them. In opposition to the governor’s edict they communicated to their
constituents and to the other colonies their unchanging determination to
resist the unjust demands of their lordly oppressors. This hastened the
crisis. The exasperated governor invoked the aid of the military. And his
friend General Gage, commander of the British forces in America, ordered
from Halifax two regiments of regulars to strengthen the governor’s
police. It seemed a large force for the purpose, but even they were
not sufficient to squelch the spirit of freedom. The civil authorities
promptly refused to provide supplies or quarters for the troops for whose
presence they had no occasion or need. They were encamped on the common,
and, for the purpose of intimidation, a great display was made, but it
only imbittered the feelings of the citizens. Mutual hatred between them
and the hired soldiers, aggravated by insults and injuries on both sides,
soon led to open hostilities. A small company of soldiers were attacked
by a mob, and fired, killing some and wounding others. The rage of the
people at the occurrence knew no bounds. They became so violent that it
was thought advisable to withdraw the troops from the city. The squad
implicated in the massacre was indicted for murder and had a fair trial.
This was magnanimous. The keenest sense of the injuries received did not
make true patriots forgetful of the personal rights of those who were the
instruments of the oppression they suffered. At the trial of the soldiers
John Adams and Josiah Quincy, both well known as stanch advocates of the
people’s cause, appeared for the defense, and showed that the evidence
could only convict of manslaughter, and as it seemed in self-defense, the
punishment should be light.
Meanwhile full accounts of these disturbances were sent to England
and caused intense excitement there. Parliament not only censured the
colonists in strongly worded resolutions, but directed the governors to
seize and transport to England for trial the leaders of disloyalty. The
order was never carried out. Even after this some concessions were made
to the demands of the colonists under the pressure of urgent appeals from
English merchants who saw nothing but financial ruin to themselves in the
loss of their trade with America. The duties on all articles imported
from England were removed except on tea, and that, it was said, was
retained simply to assert the sovereignty of the home government. This
was an effort to conciliate those whom threats and military displays had
failed to intimidate, but it too failed.
The East India Company had large quantities of tea in their storehouses,
and having no orders from merchants, and being assured that many
_Tories_, as all officers and supporters of the king were called, would
patronize them, made arrangements for carrying on the business through
their own agents. The plan seemed to promise success. Their men were
appointed and a number of vessels freighted and sent to America. But
there were difficulties in the way. In New York and Philadelphia the
consignees, though anxious for the gains promised them, became alarmed
and dared not enter on the duties of their appointment; and the captains
were obliged to return to England with their cargoes. In Boston the
agents of the company refused to resign, though threatened for their
contumacy. In the midst of the excitement three ships arrived with
cargoes of tea. A large committee demanded that it should be taken
away. Of course there could be no public, and the vigilance of the
citizens prevented a secret landing. The shipmasters saw that the only
safe course for them was to obey the will of the people, but when they
would have departed the governor was obstinate and no clearance could
be obtained without first landing the cargoes. Repeated meetings were
held, the question fully discussed, when it was resolved to resist to the
last extremity the landing of the tea. They were in mass meeting when
the ultimatum of the governor refusing the passports was received. The
deliberations were then at an end, and the enthusiasm knew no bounds. A
man in the crowd suddenly gave the war whoop and a rush was made for the
wharf. The disguised man was joined by others, perhaps twenty in number,
who without damaging any other property emptied all the tea chests into
the sea. The work was done speedily and without hindrance. When informed
of these violent proceedings Parliament immediately passed the “Boston
Port Bill,” and removed the custom house to Salem. At the same time two
other acts were passed, that added fuel to the fire, one giving the
appointment of all civil and judicial officers directly to the crown;
the other providing that in any future trial for homicide or violent
resistance of the lawfully constituted authorities, the governor might
send the accused out of the colony for trial.
In 1774 General Gage was appointed governor instead of Hutchinson.
Personally he was much preferred to his predecessor, but coming to
enforce the Port Bill, and having military authority the people felt that
he was their enemy, and were ready to obstruct any measures he might
adopt. Though Gage, with his army of regulars, was in possession, the
organization and training of the militia proceeded with great zeal. Soon
twelve thousand were enrolled as “Minute Men,” or civilians ready for
military service at a moment’s notice. In the other colonies much the
same state of things existed. The people organized, drilled and prepared
materials of war for the common defense.
In September of this year Congress met in Philadelphia. Of the
fifty-three members in attendance nearly all were men of high standing
in society, and already known to the country as true patriots. They were
not an assembly of political aspirants and adventurers who, for personal
ends, had sought the high position they filled, but representative men
who deeply felt that the best interests, if not the very existence of the
communities they represented demanded of them measures as prudent and
cautious as they were firm and uncompromising. They indorsed the action
of the Massachusetts Convention; put forth a plain, well-considered
declaration of colonial rights; enumerated instances in which these had
been violated; effected a more efficient opposition to any trade with
England until satisfaction could be obtained for injuries done.
The moderation yet firmness of Congress met with very general approval.
A few were in sympathy with the government, and the Quakers condemned
everything they thought might bring on the country the calamities of war.
All other religious bodies, and especially the pastors of the New England
churches, without hesitation lent all their influence to the cause of
freedom. Parliament now decided on more violent coercive measures. The
policy of Pitt was rejected. The colonial agents, Franklin and others,
were refused a hearing, and large military reënforcements ordered to
America. The crisis had come sooner than some, who thought it inevitable,
expected, but the citizens, cut off from all their sources of prosperity
and denounced as rebels, were ready. The British garrison in Boston was
strong, but the suffering people were unawed, and the commander of the
post learned with some concern of the vigorous preparations for the
impending conflict that were progressing in all parts of the province.
Arms and other war material were, with all possible speed, collected and
stored in different places. It was soon learned that notwithstanding the
presence of the army and vigilance of the officers, large quantities
of arms and ammunition had been smuggled out of Boston and stored at
Concord, some eighteen miles distant. General Gage thought the time
had come to stop these movements that might cause him serious trouble,
and eighteen hundred of his infantry were sent to seize the stores at
Concord. The plan of that first raid was supposed to be entirely secret.
But somehow, Dr. Warren, a prominent Boston patriot, became apprised
of it and spread the intelligence through the country in time to have
the stores in part removed to a safer place. The troops next morning on
reaching Lexington, a few miles from Concord, found a company of militia
under arms, who were ordered to disperse, a volley was fired and eight
men killed. At Concord the minute men endeavored to keep possession of a
bridge, but were charged and driven from it. The object of the raid was
in part accomplished. Some stores that could not be removed in time to
save them were destroyed, but nothing of value could be taken away. The
“Minute Men” were, by this time, coming from all quarters, and a very
hasty retreat was found necessary. They were exposed to a galling fire
from riflemen concealed on both sides of the road, while others pressed
hard on their rear. Many fell, and but for reënforcements sent out to
meet them, the whole command might have been cut off or captured. They
lost that day not far from three hundred men. British soldiers and their
officers gained some new ideas of the metal of the untrained militia
with whom they had to deal. The war was now begun, the first blood shed,
and the call to arms was promptly answered in all parts of the province.
In a short time there were more men gathered about Boston with their
rifles and shotguns than could be employed. The city was besieged, and
in the trenches, amidst intense excitement, there was enough brave
talk of driving the British into the sea. Through all the southern and
middle colonies the news of the opening of the campaign called forth the
strongest expressions of sympathy and prompt assurances of support in
the common cause. Everywhere the patriots organized for defense and for
the seizure of such military funds and stores as might be found at posts
not sufficiently guarded.
In May, 1775, Congress met again in Philadelphia and decided that as
war had been commenced by the mother country the most active measures
should be taken for defense. George Washington, of Virginia, was made
commander-in-chief, and several Major and Adjutant Generals appointed.
In the meantime the forces that held Gage shut up in Boston rapidly
increased in numbers. Stark, Putnam, Green and Arnold, with their
militia, hastened to the scene of action, eager to avenge the wrongs of
their fellow citizens.
In another quarter the eccentric Ethan Allen, with a company of Vermont
mountaineers, made a dash as daring and successful as any during the
war. The attention of the patriotic leaders was turned to the fortress
at Ticonderoga, where immense stores were collected for the use of the
British army. Allen resolved to surprise the garrison and capture the
place. They reached the shore of the lake opposite Ticonderoga without
being discovered, but found the means of transportation so limited
that only eighty men succeeded in crossing. To delay was to fail, and
the attack must be made at once. Allen and Arnold, who had joined the
expedition as a private, rushed into the gateway of the fort, driving,
and entering with the sentinel, closely followed by their men. The shouts
of the audacious assailants, already within the fort, were such as few
garrisons had heard. Not a gun had been discharged, but Allen’s men faced
the barracks, while he rushed to the quarters of the commandant, and
shouted, “Surrender this fort immediately.” “By what authority?” inquired
the astounded officer, suddenly roused from his slumbers. “In the name
of the Great Jehovah and of the Continental Congress,” said Allen. And
there seemed to be no alternative. A fortress that cost England millions
of dollars was captured in ten minutes by that little band of patriots.
Twenty cannon and a vast quantity of all kinds of military stores fell
into the hands of the Americans.
In May of this year Generals Howe, Clinton, and Burgoyne arrived at
Boston with reënforcements that increased the army holding the place
to more than ten thousand men. General Gage, thus strengthened, became
arrogant, issued his proclamation, denouncing those in arms as rebels,
but offering pardon to any who would submit, excepting Adams and Hancock.
These two, when delivered up or taken, were to suffer the penalty for
treason.
There were evident preparations for some movement from Boston—rumor said
to burn the neighboring towns, and lay waste the country. To prevent
this the Americans determined to seize and fortify Bunker Hill, which
commanded the peninsula over which their enemies would seek to pass. On
the night of the 16th of June, Colonel Prescott was sent with a thousand
men to occupy the hill. The movement was skilfully carried out, and a
position a little farther down the peninsula than that contemplated,
and within easy cannon range of the city was fortified, the men working
diligently till morning in digging trenches and constructing their fort.
When the astonished general discovered what was done, he said: “We must
take those works immediately.” After a fierce cannonade, that did little
harm, the attack was made by General Howe, with three thousand regulars,
determined to carry the works on the hill by assault. As the column moved
forward in fine order, all the batteries within range opened fire on
the intrenchments of the Americans, who were only about fifteen hundred
in number, and having wrought all night, and till three p. m., were
suffering from hunger and fatigue. Happily the gunners did not get the
range, or much disturb those in the trenches, who reserved their fire
till the head of the column was within one hundred and fifty feet, when,
at the command of Prescott, every gun was discharged with deliberate
aim. The shock was terrible. Hundreds fell, and there was a precipitate
retreat. At the foot of the hill they were re-formed, and made a second
fierce assault, with a like result, the men in the trenches reserving
their fire till the enemy were close at hand. The destruction was so
terrible that nearly all the officers fell, and the shattered column
returned in disorder. General Clinton, who had witnessed the unexpected
repulse, hastened to the field with reinforcements, and the third attempt
was more successful. The provincials had but little ammunition left, and
were unable to repel the fresh assailants. Some had already leaped over
the breastworks, and the brave defenders of the fort withdrew. In the
retreat the lamented Warren fell. Though defeated it was a glorious day
for the patriots. Generals Howe and Clinton had gained a victory, but at
fearful cost. Two more such would have nearly blotted out that splendid
army.
They dared not venture into the country, but returned to Boston and
were still closely besieged by Washington and his army. The siege was
so pressed that it was difficult to subsist the army there, and to save
the city from destruction they were allowed to embark the whole army on
transports, taking with them many Tories who had been too open in their
friendship for the Royalists to be safe if left behind. Of that class
there were some in almost all communities, and during the bloody years
that followed they both suffered much and caused much suffering. In some
sections where they were numerous the citizen conflicts between Whigs and
Tories, or Patriots and Loyalists were characterized by great bitterness
and unmitigated cruelty on both sides. Hundreds were slain not in battle,
but by the hands of assassins who were neighbors, and had been friends.
For nearly a year no decisive battles were fought, though there was much
skirmishing and much suffering, destruction of property and loss of life.
The colonists were in an anomalous condition, still confessing themselves
British subjects, and in the Episcopal churches repeating prayers for the
king, while doing all in their power to resist his authority and destroy
his armies.
In June, 1776, a resolution similar to that passed by the Virginia
Assembly, was discussed in Congress with much ability, and on the 4th of
July the memorable Declaration of Independence, drawn up by Jefferson,
with the assistance of Franklin and others, was adopted. The preamble, as
remarkable for its finish as for clearness and strength, commences: “When
in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to
dissolve the political bonds which have connected them with another, and
to assume among the nations of the earth the separate and equal station
to which the laws of nature and nature’s God entitle them, a decent
respect for the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare
the causes which impel them to the separation.” After such a beginning
there follows a clear, succinct, forcible statement of the wrongs
endured, and the contemptuous rejection of all petitions for redress.
The conclusion reached is in the following words: “These united colonies
are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States, that they are
absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all political
connection between them and Great Britain is and ought to be totally
dissolved.”
For the maintenance of this declaration the signers pledged their
property, lives and sacred honor.
Hostilities were continued with, if possible, more determined energy on
both sides. With some partial successes there followed a long series of
disasters to the patriot cause, that at times seemed almost hopeless.
In August Washington, anticipating an attack on New York, sent Putnam
with nine hundred men to defend the place. They were defeated with heavy
loss on Long Island. The enemy, however, did not gain much from the
victory, as the patriots quietly crossed the river to New York in the
night, and the victors had but possession of the island, and nothing
more. In the city Washington himself took command, and had a large part
of his available forces there. When the British fleet, that was expected,
entered the harbor, any attempt further to defend the place would have
been useless, and the patriot forces were withdrawn. Fort Washington,
a place of great natural and artificial strength, on Manhattan Island,
five miles from the city, was for some reason not evacuated when the
army left, and was some time after attacked and forced to surrender. The
assailants suffered great loss, but took the fort, and the garrison of
two thousand men were crowded into the filthy New York military prisons.
Washington retreated through New Jersey, closely pursued, but by great
vigilance and skill avoided a conflict for which he was not prepared. It
often requires more real generalship to conduct a retreat safely, than to
make a successful assault, and the great American general, with an army
so inferior in numbers and equipments, had much to do in that line during
the struggle for independence.
On the 8th of December he crossed the Delaware, taking with him or
destroying all the boats within reach, and thus baffled his pursuer.
Cornwallis found it necessary to wait for the freezing of the river, and
reluctantly put his army into winter quarters in the nearest towns and
villages. Two thousand Hessians, commanded by Colonel Rahl, occupied
Trenton, and the other detachments were arranged so that all might
proceed against Philadelphia soon as the river was bridged with ice.
During the month Washington saw and seized the opportunity to strike
a blow for his disheartened country. He planned to cross the river
Christmas night, in three divisions, and attack the portion of the army
at Trenton before daylight. The division led by the General himself and
Sullivan succeeded, not without great difficulty because of the floating
ice, in crossing some miles above the town. The others failed. Though
delayed beyond the time intended, and without the support expected, the
attempt must be made. So dividing those that were over into two bands,
that the assault might be made on both sides at once, they approached
rapidly. The Hessians were completely surprised, their Colonel killed at
the first volley, and the whole regiment, thinking themselves surrounded,
threw down their arms and begged for quarter. They were made prisoners
of war, and before night their captors had them safe beyond the river.
This at the time, and under all the circumstances, was an event of great
importance, as it encouraged the soldiers and gave new hope to the
country.
Three days after, Washington with all his available force returned to
Trenton, and on the day following, Cornwallis approached from Princeton
with the main body of his army, determined to crush the resolute
Americans. After much skirmishing Cornwallis attempted to force his way
into the town, but was repulsed, and, as it was now evening, thought
it prudent to wait for the morning. The position of the Americans,
confronted with such superior numbers, was critical. To attempt to
recross the Delaware was too hazardous, so it was promptly decided to
withdraw quietly in the night, and by a circuitous route to strike the
enemy at Princeton before his expectant antagonist could discover the
movement. The baggage was safely removed, the campfires were lighted,
and a guard left to keep them burning. The sentries walked their beats
too, unconcernedly, till the morning light showed a deserted camp, and
about the same time the roar of American cannon thirteen miles away told
Cornwallis how he had been outgeneraled. A sharp battle was fought at
Princeton, and Washington was again victorious, but the legions of the
British army were within hearing. When they arrived the active enemy that
had so annoyed and harmed them had departed, going northward. Again sadly
disappointed, Cornwallis must needs hasten to New Brunswick, to protect
the stores.
It is impossible here even to mention the important events that followed.
For weary months and years the terribly destructive war continued.
Many campaigns were planned and conducted with great energy. Battles
were fought in which the carnage was fearful. Ships were burned or
sunk—strongholds were taken by siege or assault, and the garrisons
defending them cut to pieces, or, as in some instances, cruelly massacred
after they were surrendered. Towns and hamlets were burned, and large
sections of country laid waste. For a time the greatest destruction was
in the East and North, but when the work of death fairly commenced in
the South blood flowed not less freely. In 1779 the principal theater of
the war was in Georgia and the Carolinas, and the heaviest engagements
were adverse to the Americans. Savannah and Charleston were captured and
the whole states overrun by detachments of British soldiers who at first
met with but little opposition. Very soon, however, the patriots, though
unable by reason of their losses to take the field in force, renewed the
contest under Sumter, Marrion, Pickens, and other daring leaders who
continually harassed not only the British, but also the Tories, of whom
there were great numbers in that region.
In the North General Burgoyne, after two battles with General Gates, in
both of which the Americans had the advantage, surrendered his whole
army of seven thousand regulars, beside Indians and Canadians. This
achievement, vastly important to the country, as it had influence in
securing the powerful aid of France, gave Gates a standing higher than
he deserved or could maintain. On account of his victory at Saratoga
he was sent to recover South Carolina; but in his first encounter with
Cornwallis at Camden, he was routed, with the loss of one thousand men,
and with the remnant of his army fled to North Carolina.
After obtaining aid from France, though some serious disasters were
suffered, and the faint-hearted were at times discouraged, the cause of
the country gained strength till final success was assured.
In 1781, at Cowpens, S. C., on January 17th, General Morgan won a
brilliant victory over the British under Tarleton; and the bloody
battle at Eutaw Springs nearly terminated the war in South Carolina.
In Virginia, Cornwallis, who was now opposed by La Fayette, Wayne
and Steuben, had fortified himself at Yorktown, where he had a large
army. Meanwhile, the American army of the North, under Washington,
and the French army under Count de Rochambeau formed a junction on
the Hudson which seemed to threaten an attack on Clinton in New York,
and effectually prevented him from sending aid to the army shut up at
Yorktown. By a sudden diversion, and before the movement was discovered,
the allied armies, 12,000 strong, were far on their way toward Yorktown,
and arrived without hindrance, on the 28th of September. The siege was
but short. On the 19th of October Cornwallis surrendered, with his
whole army of 7,000 men. This victory substantially terminated the
conflict, and secured American independence. Thus ended the war which,
in the language of Pitt, “Was conceived in injustice, nurtured in folly,
and whose footsteps were marked with slaughter and devastation. The
nation was drained of its best blood and its vital resources, for which
nothing was received in return but a series of inefficient victories and
disgraceful defeats; victories obtained over men fighting in the holy
cause of liberty—defeats which filled the land with mourning for the loss
of dear and valuable relations, slain in a detested and impious quarrel.”
During the seven years of blood Great Britain sent to the war she was
waging to subdue her colonists 134,000 soldiers and seamen. The forces of
the United States and their allies consisted of 230,000 regular soldiers,
and some 56,000 militia. Those who perished in battle or otherwise, by
reason of the war, reached some hundreds of thousands; other hundreds
of thousands were made widows or orphans, while the cost in actual
expenditures and property destroyed must be told by hundreds of millions.
And yet, for America, the sacrifice was not too great. The heritage of
freedom left us is more than worth it all.
[End of Required Reading for 1883-4.]