with square sails called the "Half Moon," a Dutch galiot of only ninety
tons, with a crew of twenty men, in an extreme northwesterly direction,
but being driven back by the ice, skirted along the Atlantic coast,
passing through Casco Bay, Maine, as far south as Chesapeake Bay, and
thence again northward, and entered Raritan Bay, south of Staten Island,
on September 11, 1609, into the present harbor of New York, and, on
September 14th, sailed up the Hudson River almost as far as Albany.
The return voyage down the Hudson to its mouth, owing to adverse winds,
occupied eleven days, and on November 7, 1609, he landed at Dartmouth,
England, where, owing to the jealousy of the English Government, the
crew was detained and his ship seized, although she had borne the Dutch
flag and Hudson had claimed the sovereignty of the soil for that country
over that portion of the American continent which he had discovered. It
was to all intents and purposes a discovery, as the first definite
historic account of the existence of this part of the new world dated
from this voyage, of which he kept a careful journal, however probable
it may be that, before him, other Europeans had looked upon Manhattan
Island and the Hudson River, in view of the many expeditions to America
during the long period from the tenth to the seventeenth centuries.
The discovery of Hudson led almost immediately to numerous trading
voyages, and thereafter to temporary, and then to regular and permanent
colonization, and finally to the foundation of the great City of New
York. Also with Hudson, the same as with Columbus and De Soto, is thus
linked a discovery far greater in its consequences than if he had
succeeded in reaching the goal which he originally set out to find. Like
theirs, also his ending was sad and tragic, for on a subsequent
northwestern voyage, his mutinous crew cast him, together with his son
and seven of his faithful men, adrift amid the ice of Hudson Bay, which
bears his name, thus like De Soto perishing in the very waters which he
had discovered.
His life is wrapt in mystery; nothing is known of it except during the
four years occupied with his voyages (1607 to 1611), and that he was
probably the son of Christopher Hudson, one of the factors of the
Muscovy Company. There is not even an authentic portrait of him in
existence.
The interest of this painting centers in the scene, which it vividly
depicts, of the effect upon the natives of this first sight of a ship.
Nothing could be more intense than the expression of mingled fear and
defiant surprise portrayed in the face and attitude of the young Indian
warrior, that so strange an object should dare to approach his hitherto
undisputed domain of the shore. This interest is heightened through the
grouping of the squaw and Indian dog, with the Indian hut or tepee in
the background on the edge of the forest, and the rocky shore in the
foreground. The ship itself is subordinated to the representation of
this idea, being only dimly seen in the distance.
Through this conception, the artist was enabled to present a picture
which adds to the variety of the series, and at the same time
demonstrates his surpassing mastery of figure and landscape painting as
well.
EMBARKATION OF THE PILGRIMS
From Southampton
(_August 5, 1620_)
[Illustration: Copyright, 1898, by Edward Moran.]
VII.
EMBARKATION OF THE PILGRIMS FROM SOUTHAMPTON, AUGUST 5, 1620.[J]
A sadder journey than that of the Pilgrims, both in its inception in
leaving home and kindred and fleeing from persecution, and in its ending
in the inconceivable hardships which they had to endure in the new
world, was probably never undertaken than when, on August 5, 1620, the
"Mayflower" sailed out of the harbor of Southampton.
It must have been with heavy hearts and the gloomiest forebodings, and
yet buoyed up with the hope of finding a permanent refuge beyond the
ocean, for the exercise of that freedom of conscience for which they had
previously found only a temporary abode at Leyden, Holland, that the
hundred brave men and women, representing twenty-three different
families, consigned their lives and fortunes into the hands of the crew
of the little one hundred and sixty ton vessel that for almost five long
months was to battle with storm and winds across the dreaded Atlantic,
until on December 21, 1620, they anchored on the shores of
Massachusetts, and, with that spirit of loyalty, still, to the land from
which they had fled, named the spot where they first landed, Plymouth
Rock, to which they had been driven in the stress and storm, instead of
reaching the Virginia colony, for which they had set sail.
What that departure of the Pilgrims from England meant to those left
behind on the shore at Southampton can hardly be conceived by those who,
in our day, at some magnificent steamship pier, amid the strains of
music and a shower of flowers, now and anon wave a farewell to their
friends, perhaps bound on a pleasure tour in some leviathan of the
ocean, of twenty thousand or more tons burden, and fitted up in more
regal splendor than the most gorgeous palaces of the age of the
Pilgrims.
It is to the sadness of this departure that the artist, in this canvas,
has undertaken to give expression in the mournful group of friends on
the shore, waving a final farewell and wistfully gazing at the
"Mayflower," lying in mid-water and evidently waiting for the last
passengers to arrive before setting sail on its perilous voyage into the
mysterious darkness of the approaching night. There is a mellow gray
light of evening diffused throughout this painting which is almost
indescribable, with the moon casting its rays across the water, so
perfectly is it in harmony with the thread of the whole story which is
suggested by this inimitable picture.
I can think of no more fitting words to accompany this canvas than those
of Edward Everett, in his oration at Plymouth, on December 22, 1824, on
"The Emigration of the Pilgrim Fathers":
"Methinks I see it now, that one solitary, adventurous vessel, the
'Mayflower' of a forlorn hope, freighted with the prospects of a
future State, and bound across the unknown sea. I behold it
pursuing, with a thousand misgivings, the uncertain, the tedious
voyage. Suns rise and set, and weeks and months pass, and winter
surprises them on the deep, but brings them not the sight of the
wished-for shore. I see them now scantily supplied with provisions,
crowded almost to suffocation in their ill-stored prison, delayed
by calms, pursuing a circuitous route; and now driven in fury
before the raging tempest, on the high and giddy waves. The awful
voice of the storm howls through the rigging. The laboring masts
seem straining from their base; the dismal sound of the pumps is
heard; the ship leaps, as it were, madly from billow to billow; the
ocean breaks, and settles with engulfing floods over the floating
deck, and beats with deadening weight against the staggered vessel.
I see them, escaped from these perils, pursuing their all but
desperate undertaking, and landed at last, after five months'
passage, on the ice-clad rocks of Plymouth,--weak and weary from
the voyage, poorly armed, scantily provisioned, depending on the
charity of their shipmaster for a draft of beer on board, drinking
nothing but water on shore, without shelter, without means,
surrounded by hostile tribes."
What an extraordinary coincidence it is that a Dutch slaver, laden with
slaves for Virginia, should be on the ocean at the same time with the
"Mayflower," in whose cabin was written the first charter of
independence, the first American constitution, in the words following:
"In the name of God, Amen. We whose names are underwritten, the
loyal subjects of our dread sovereign Lord, King James, by the
grace of God, of Great Britain, France, and Ireland king, defender
of the faith, etc., having undertaken, for the glory of God, and
advancement of the Christian faith, and honor of our king and
country, a voyage to plant the first colony in the northern parts
of Virginia, do by these presents solemnly and mutually in the
presence of God, and one of another, covenant and combine ourselves
together into a civil body politic, for our better ordering and
preservation and furtherance of the ends aforesaid; and by virtue
hereof to enact, constitute, and frame such just and equal laws,
ordinances, acts, constitutions, and offices, from time to time,
as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general good
of the Colony, unto which we promise all due submission and
obedience."
What but a reflection of these words is the memorable preamble to the
Constitution of the United States, framed by the convention of 1787:
"We, the people of the United States, in order to form a more
perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity,
provide for the common defence, promote the general welfare, and
secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do
ordain this Constitution for the United States of America."
What a debt of gratitude we owe to the leaders of that expedition,
Carver, Winslow, Bradford and Standish, who thus planted this colony in
the United States, practically the first after that in Virginia--but
also to the great artist who fortunately came from the shores of the
same England to immortalize, through this beautiful picture, the first
scene in the drama whose culmination is the establishment of the
greatest republic that the world has ever seen!
"There were men with hoary hair
Amidst that pilgrim-band:
Why had they come to wither there,
Away from their childhood's land?
"There was woman's fearless eye,
Lit by her deep love's truth;
There was manhood's brow serenely high,
And the fiery heart of youth.
"What sought they thus afar?
Bright jewels of the mine?
The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?--
They sought a faith's pure shrine!
"Ay, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod;
They have left unstained what there they found--
Freedom to worship God."
FELICIA HEMANS.
FIRST RECOGNITION OF THE AMERICAN FLAG
By a Foreign Government
(_In the Harbor of Quiberon, France, February 13, 1778_)
[Illustration: Copyright, 1898, by Edward Moran.]
VIII.
FIRST RECOGNITION OF THE AMERICAN FLAG BY A FOREIGN GOVERNMENT.
_In the Harbor of Quiberon, France, February 13, 1778._[K]
"When Freedom, from her mountain height,
Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night
And set the stars of glory there!
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
The milky baldric of the skies,
And striped its pure, celestial white
With streakings of the morning light."
DRAKE.
Between the time of the landing of the Pilgrims and the event
represented in this picture one hundred and fifty-eight years had
elapsed. The hardy pioneers who had ventured across the ocean in
considerable numbers had increased to thirteen colonies, the Declaration
of Independence had been signed, the War of the Revolution was being
fought, a preliminary confederation had been formed among the thirteen
States, the first American Congress had met, and this, on June 14, 1777,
"Resolved that the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen
stripes, alternate red and white; and the Union be thirteen white stars
on a blue field," and on the same day had appointed John Paul Jones,
usually known as Paul Jones, to the command of the "Ranger," who soon
thereafter hoisted the new flag on board that vessel at Portsmouth. The
"Ranger" set out to sea about November 1st, her battery consisting of
sixteen six-pounders, throwing only forty-eight pounds of shot from a
broadside, an armament which appears grotesquely lilliputian in
comparison with the thirteen-inch guns, firing projectiles of over half
a ton from our steel-armored battleships of to-day, which cost as much
as five million dollars and are of 16,000 tons burden. With this little
ship he sailed to Europe, capturing two prizes on the way, and, after
touching at Nantes, sailed to Quiberon Bay, east of Quiberon, on the Bay
of Biscay, a small town and peninsula about twenty-two miles south-east
of Lorient, convoying some American vessels, and placing them under the
protection of the French fleet commanded by Admiral La Motte Piquet. The
story represented in this picture he tells in his own language in a
letter to the Naval Committee, dated February 22, 1778: "I am happy to
have it in my power to congratulate on my having seen the American flag
for the first time recognized in the fullest and completest manner by
the flag of France." He then recounts how, after preliminary
communications with the Admiral, the latter thus honored the flag on
February 13th, which he characterized as "an acknowledgment of American
independence."
This, as well as each of the five subsequent paintings, depicts an
important event in the history of our navy, and must be dear to every
American heart in the incident which is thus perpetuated. The American
flag is proudly displayed from the masthead and stern of the "Ranger,"
and the coloring is so adjusted that the flag appears to wave in the
brightest light of the picture. The smoke of the booming cannon from the
French fleet, the motion of the water, and the row-boats evidently
plying in friendly intercourse among the ships, the sky effect--all
together combine to produce a piece of superb marine painting.
Space forbids dwelling upon the exceptional, romantic, daring and
successful career of Paul Jones, who was born in Scotland on July 6,
1747, and died in Paris on July 18, 1792, the first of that long list of
heroic figures which have made the history of the American navy so
illustrious.
"The man that is not moved at what he reads,
That takes not fire at their heroic deeds,
Unworthy of the blessings of the brave,
Is base in kind, and born to be a slave."
COWPER.
_Note._--Additional interest is lent to this canvas through the fact
that quite recently (April, 1905) the remains of John Paul Jones, the
hero of the occasion, were discovered in Paris, and are to be interred
in the United States.
BURNING OF THE FRIGATE PHILADELPHIA
(_In the Harbor of Tripoli, February 16, 1804_)
[Illustration: Copyright, 1898, by Edward Moran.]
IX.
BURNING OF THE FRIGATE PHILADELPHIA.
_In the Harbor of Tripoli, February 16, 1804._[L]
This canvas represents one of the most daring feats ever performed in
naval warfare, equalled only, perhaps, by the exploit of Lieutenant
Hobson in sinking the collier "Merrimac" in the harbor of Santiago
during the Spanish-American war of 1898. Lord Nelson characterized the
burning of the "Philadelphia" as the most daring act of the age. The
"Philadelphia" was the sister ship of the famous "Constitution," and
under the command of Captain Bainbridge had been despatched to Tripoli
to demand satisfaction for losses suffered by our merchant marine at the
hands of Algerian pirates, who had been preying upon the commerce of the
world for years. Arriving on the Algerian coast, she was led upon a reef
by pirates whom she was chasing, her officers and crew were taken
prisoners, her guns were thrown overboard, and she was taken into the
harbor by her captors, and there remanned, regunned and made ready to
defend the city against the other American ships which were blockading
the port.
From his prison Captain Bainbridge managed to get into communication
with the American fleet, and to suggest the feasibility of destroying
the "Philadelphia." Acting upon this suggestion Lieutenant Decatur
undertook the perilous task. Decatur had sailed into the harbor of
Tripoli in the frigate "United States" in the Preble expedition and
captured a small Tripolitan vessel, which was renamed the "Intrepid." In
her, with a crew of seventy-four brave volunteers, and accompanied by
the "Siren," he sailed straight up to the "Philadelphia" in the evening,
sprang on board with his men, and after a furious struggle and under the
fire of the coast batteries, whose cannon swept the approach to the
"Philadelphia," the Americans either killed or drove into the sea all
the Tripolitans on board the "Philadelphia," which was set on fire,
while the "Intrepid," with the assistance of the "Siren," escaped
without the loss of a single man. It was a deed of marvellous bravery,
so much so that on November 15, 1804, Thomas Jefferson sent a special
message to Congress stating that Lieutenant Decatur had been advanced to
be a Captain, and it is not surprising that so brave a seaman gradually
rose to the rank of Commodore in the United States navy. He was the hero
of many subsequent brilliant exploits, principally in foreign waters,
and effectually showed the nations of Europe how to put an end to the
piracy and insolence of the Barbary States, which had lasted for nearly
three centuries. He was the recipient of many distinguished honors, and
was presented with a sword by Congress for his share in the destruction
of the "Philadelphia," and in 1812 with a gold medal for his capture of
the British frigate "Macedonian" by his own ship the "United States."
His patriotic devotion to his country is well exemplified in a toast
which he proposed in 1816 on the occasion of a banquet which was
tendered to him: "Our Country! In her intercourse with foreign nations,
may she always be in the right; but our Country, right or wrong."
Decatur was born in Maryland on January 5, 1779, and died on March 22,
1820, in a duel with Commodore Barron.
Andrew Jackson, in his first annual message to Congress on December 8,
1829, referred to the heroic deed represented in this painting in the
following language:
"I cannot close this communication without bringing to your view
the just claim of the representatives of Commodore Decatur, his
officers and crew, arising from the recapture of the frigate
'Philadelphia' under the heavy batteries of Tripoli. Although
sensible, as a general rule, of the impropriety of Executive
interference under a Government like ours, where every individual
enjoys the right of directly petitioning Congress, yet, viewing
this case as one of very peculiar character, I deem it my duty to
recommend it to your favorable consideration. Besides the justice
of this claim, as corresponding to those which have been since
recognized and satisfied, it is the fruit of a deed of patriotic
and chivalrous daring which infused life and confidence into our
infant navy and contributed as much as any exploit in its history
to elevate our national character. Public gratitude, therefore,
stamps her seal upon it, and the meed should not be withheld which
may hereafter operate as a stimulus to our gallant tars."
The burning of the "Philadelphia" is one of the most striking pictures
in the series. The effect of the mounting flames against the moonless
and midnight sky is impressive and spectacular, and their lurid
reflection in the water, with a glimpse of the Algerian fort and
batteries in the background to the right, and the little vessel of
Decatur, fittingly named the "Intrepid," skimming along the water away
from the burning ship, with swelling sail and powerful stroke of oar,
with the dense masses of smoke rising to the extreme height of the
painting and a shower of burning embers descending into the
water--produce an effect, so vivid and realistic, of a great
conflagration, that the eye is riveted to the scene with never-failing
interest.
THE BRIG ARMSTRONG ENGAGING THE BRITISH FLEET
(_In the Harbor of Fayal, September 26, 1814_)
[Illustration: Copyright, 1898, by Edward Moran.]
X.
THE BRIG ARMSTRONG ENGAGING THE BRITISH FLEET.
_In the Harbor of Fayal, September 26, 1814._[M]
It is difficult to discriminate, in awarding the meed of praise for
bravery, amid the many heroic deeds of the American navy. For fighting
qualities and success in repulsing overwhelming numbers the exploit of
Captain Samuel Chester Reid, in his battle with the British seamen which
this picture illustrates, has never been surpassed. It was on the 26th
of September, 1814, that the privateer, the brig "Armstrong," which had
been fitted out in New York, cast anchor in the harbor of Fayal, one of
the Azores, belonging to the neutral government of Portugal. About the
same time three British ships, the "Plantagenet," the "Carnation" and
the "Rota," under the command of Commodore Lloyd, appeared in the same
harbor, and without further ceremony sent out four boat loads of men
towards the brig "Armstrong," evidently with hostile intention. Captain
Reid, realizing the futility of relying upon the protection of the
impotent Portuguese authorities, prepared for the worst, and, on
receiving a threatening response to a challenge which he addressed to
the approaching boats, he unhesitatingly opened fire. As his crew
consisted of only ninety men, his armament of eight nine-pounders, with
only the famous "Long Tom," a twenty-four pounder (which was exhibited
at the World's Fair at Chicago in 1893) as a gun of any consequence to
rely upon, while the enemy numbered over two thousand men and had a
combined armament of one hundred and thirty-six guns, the hardihood of
this initial proceeding will be apparent. After having suffered some
loss in killed and wounded, three of the enemy's boats beat a hasty
retreat, the fourth having been sunk, but about midnight the attack was
renewed by fourteen boats, loaded to the guards with at least four
hundred men. Captain Reid with his men fought like tigers, and "Long
Tom," under the command of William Copeland, mowed down the enemy
without giving them a chance to carry out their evident intention of
capturing the ship. The battle lasted only forty minutes, but during
this time two boats of the enemy had been captured and two sunk, and
nearly three hundred of their men either killed or wounded, while Reid
achieved a complete victory with the loss of only two men killed and
seven wounded. A third attack was made by the enemy soon after daybreak,
this time directly with the guns of the brig "Carnation," but "Long
Tom," with its twenty-four pound shots, did so much damage to the hull
of the enemy's ship that she was forced to withdraw, thus leaving the
victory for the third time with Captain Reid. Having so far succeeded in
warding off the enemy, Captain Reid thereupon, however, realizing the
futility of continuing to fight against such odds, left the brig, after
having scuttled and set her on fire, and reached the shore in safety.
There the inhabitants of the town did all in their power to care for the
wounded and protect the brave little band, who had barricaded themselves
in a small stone church; and a demand made by the British commander for
their surrender, on the ground that there were deserters among them,
proved futile, as the charge could not be established.
Subsequently the Portuguese Government raised "Long Tom," the historic
gun of the "Armstrong," and presented it to the United States
Government, and in January, 1887, Samuel C. Reid, the son and namesake
of the valiant Captain, offered through President Cleveland to the
United States the battle sword of his father--thus preserving these two
invaluable relics as mementos of one of the most remarkable sea-fights
in history.
Years later, Louis Napoleon, then Emperor of France, undertook to
arbitrate the claims of the United States Government against the British
Government for the loss of the "Armstrong," but decided in favor of the
British on the ground that Captain Reid had opened fire on the British
ships and thereby had failed to respect the neutrality of the port and
must abide the result of his commencing hostilities.
The owners of the "Armstrong" made repeated efforts to obtain redress
for the loss of their ship, but it was not until the year 1897 (about
the time that Mr. Moran finished this painting) that some money was
received, and, strange to say, paid over to the widow of the owner, Mr.
Havens, the old lady then being ninety-eight years of age.