even with that glory and advantage to her people which England had
never witnessed under any of its preceding sovereigns;—though her
administration was so vigorously and equitably exercised, and all her
plans and negotiations so ably and successfully conducted;—though, in
short, she was equally revered and obeyed, as a sovereign, at home, and
she was feared and respected abroad;—yet was Elizabeth a very weak and
silly woman in trifling concerns. She seemed a Goliath in the conduct of
the mighty affairs of empires; but dwindled into a very woman, when the
color, fancy, or fashion of a dress became the topic. Nor was she free
from the little petty vexations, jealousies, and rivalship of beauty,
so natural to her sex. Indeed, it appears that she hated and envied her
cousin, the beautiful Mary of Scots, less on account of her pretensions
to the crown, than for her superior charms. When Mary sent Sir James
Melville to London, to endeavor to establish a good understanding with
Elizabeth, he was instructed by Mary to sound her cousin on subjects
that would interest her rather as a woman than a queen. "He accordingly
succeeded so well," says Hume, "that he threw that artful princess
entirely off her guard, and made her discover the bottom of her heart,
full of those vanities, and follies, and ideas of rivalship, which
possess the youngest and most frivolous of her sex. He talked to her
of his travels, and forgot not to mention the different dresses of the
ladies in different countries; and she took care thenceforth to meet
the ambassador every day apparelled in a different habit; sometimes she
was dressed in the English garb, sometimes in the French, sometimes in
the Italian; and she asked him which became her most? He answered, the
Italian,—a reply that he knew would be agreeable to her, because that
mode showed to advantage her flowing hair, which he remarked, though
more red than yellow, she fancied to be the finest in the world. She
desired to know of him what was reputed to be the best color of hair;
she asked whether his queen or she had the finest color of hair; she
even inquired which of them he esteemed the fairest person,—a very
delicate question, and which he prudently eluded, by saying that her
majesty was the fairest person in England, and his mistress in Scotland.
She next demanded which of them was tallest. He replied, his queen.
'Then she is too tall,' said Elizabeth, 'for I myself am of a just
stature.'"
[Illustration: QUEEN ELIZABETH.]
It is a saying, that the greatest heroes are not so in the opinion of
their valets; and it may with equal truth be said of this celebrated
princess, that, however she might appear a great heroine to the world,
she was still nothing more than a frail woman in the eyes of those
who best knew her private and undisguised thoughts, feelings and
actions.—_Anon._
INTERLUDE.—WHAT JONATHAN CARVER AIMED TO DO IN 1766.
It so happened, that after the conquest of Canada, an American, and
veteran of that war, named Jonathan Carver, conceived the idea of
crossing the continent by way of the Great Lakes and tributaries of the
Mississippi. After attentively studying the French maps, and reading
the accounts of Hennepin and Lahontan, he believed this could be done.
Carver's avowed purpose was, first, to ascertain the breadth of the
continent. If successful in reaching the Pacific, he meant to have
proposed to the English government the establishment of a permanent
port on that coast. He was convinced that this was the true way to the
discovery of the North-west Passage, which Drake had attempted so long
ago, justly reasoning that it would be easier to sail from the west than
from the east, while the loss of time consequent upon the long voyages
from England, with the delays and perils incident to Arctic navigation,
would be much lessened by having such a dépôt as he proposed. And it
would also greatly facilitate communication between Hudson's Bay and
the Pacific.
Carver thought further, that a settlement on that side of the continent
would not only open up new sources of trade, and, to use his own
words, also "promote many useful discoveries, but would open a way for
conveying intelligence to China and the English settlements in the East
Indies with greater expedition than a tedious voyage by the Cape of Good
Hope, or the Straits of Magellan, would allow of."
Whether it originated in his own brain or not, so far as known, Carver
was the first boldly to set before the English people the idea of going
across the American continent to India,—the idea that has eventually
solved the whole problem.
Convinced that his undertaking was practicable, Carver started from
Michilimackinac in September, 1766, in company with some traders who
were going among the Sioux by the old route leading through Green
Bay, Fox River and the Wisconsin. What he could learn about the upper
tributaries of the Mississippi seems to have determined Carver to fix
his final starting-point somewhere about the Falls of St. Anthony.
These falls were reached on the 17th of November. When Carver came to
the point overlooking them, his Indian guide surprised him by beginning
to chant aloud an invocation to the spirit of the waters. While doing
this he was stripping off first one, then another, of his ornaments,
and casting them from him into the stream. First he threw in his pipe,
then his tobacco, then the bracelets he wore on his arms and wrists, and
lastly his necklace and ear-rings. When he had thus divested himself of
every article of value he possessed, the Indian concluded his prayer of
adoration with which his propitiatory offerings were so freely joined.
Carver's journey, in this direction, ended at the River St. Francis.
Returning south he ascended the St. Peter's, or Minnesota River, by his
own account, for a distance of two hundred miles, to the villages of
the Sioux with whom he passed the winter.
[Illustration: FALLS OF ST. ANTHONY.]
But after thus penetrating far into what is now the State of Minnesota,
Carver found himself unable to proceed. The gifts that were to be
sent after him, and which were essential to securing a safe-conduct
among the Indian nations on his route, did not come. No alternative
therefore remained but to go back to Prairie du Chien, the great Indian
trading-mart of all that region, where the explorer finally gave up
the attempt to go west at this time. He then returned to Canada by way
of the St. Croix and Lake Superior, bringing with him the information
gained by a seven months' residence among the Sioux.
Carver's Travels were published in England in 1778, ten years after
his return, although his notes and maps had been in the government's
possession for some years, permission to publish them having been
refused him.
[Illustration: INDIAN BURIAL SCAFFOLD.]
It is here that we first find the name of Oregon,[1] given to the
great river of the Pacific slope. Carver speaks of it repeatedly as "the
river of the West that falls into the Pacific Ocean."
This explorer afterward (1774) decided to renew the effort to cross
America, his indicated route being up the St. Peter's to its head,
thence across to the Missouri, up this stream to its source, and, after
discovering the source of the "Oregon or River of the West, on the other
side the summit of the dividing highlands," to descend it to the sea.
His purpose was frustrated by the war between England and the colonies.
He has, however, put on record his opinion touching the future of the
great Mississippi valley. This is his prophecy:
"To what power or authority this new world will become
dependent, after it has arisen from its present uncultivated
state, time alone can discover. But as the seat of empire,
from time immemorial, has been gradually progressive towards
the west, there is no doubt but that at some future period,
mighty kingdoms will emerge from these wildernesses, and
stately palaces, and solemn temples, with gilded spires,
reaching the skies, supplant the Indian huts whose only
decorations are the barbarous trophies of their vanquished
enemies."
FOOTNOTE
[1] OREGON. What were Carver's sources of information about
this river? The Sioux told Father Charlevoix forty odd years
earlier (1721), that by going up the Missouri, as high as
possible, a great river would be found running west, into
the sea. Carver, we know, had read Charlevoix's work. Yet the
Sioux may have told him the same story, which he so constantly
reiterates in his own narrative, and we know it to be a true
story. Substantially, Carver followed the same route which
Marquette, Hennepin, and others had before him. This may have
cast doubts upon the validity of all he has given, as of his
own knowledge. But the main facts came within the ken of so
many persons, who could have stamped them as spurious, but
did not, that we think their validity must be granted.
But what is the origin of the name OREGON first used by
Carver? Here we are all at sea. Bonneville says the word comes
from Oregano, which he asserts to have been the early Spanish
name for the Columbia River country—derived from oreganum,
the botanical name for the wild-sage plant, or artemisia.
This seems hardly conclusive. Again, we know the Spaniards
gave the name Los Organos (Organ Mountains) to a range of
the Sierra Madre, so it is possible they may have applied it
indefinitely to the whole chain, north of New Mexico. But the
Sioux could hardly have known of either derivation, or Carver
have invented the name.
JOHN LEDYARD'S IDEA.
CORPORAL JOHN LEDYARD'S[1] fancy had been taken captive by the
exploits of Captain Cook, which for a time fairly renewed the enthusiasm
Drake's bold dash into the far South Sea had created so long before.
Ledyard was a born explorer. Every thing he saw while under Cook's
command was jotted down from day to day in his diary. He was
quick-witted, restless, and ambitious of making his way in the world,
nor was he slow to see the advantage that the north-west coast offered
to whomsoever should be first in the field. But Ledyard had been wearing
King George's uniform, though himself an American, whom thirst for new
scenes had led to enlist under a hostile flag. When, however, after his
return to England, Ledyard was sent out to America, rather than fight
against his country he deserted.
His mind was filled with crude projects for securing the commerce of the
north-west coast, not for England, but for America, and America was now
a free republic. So he had imbibed at least the spirit of what is now
known as the Monroe Doctrine.
Ledyard first tried to get American merchants to fit out a ship for him.
Failing in this he went to France, thinking to secure there the help he
wanted.
It happened that while Ledyard was trying to get up a company to carry
on his schemes, Louis XVI. was fitting out La Peyrouse to follow
up Cook's track in the Pacific, and so make good what that eminent
navigator had failed to make complete.
Ledyard importuned everybody. Haunting those who would listen to him,
borrowing money first from one and then another in order to live,
sometimes without a crown in his pocket, always repulsed, but never
despairing, the would-be explorer woke and slept on his one ever-present
idea.
"I die with anxiety," he says to a friend, "to be on the back of the
American States, after having penetrated to the Pacific Ocean. There
is an extensive field for the acquirement of honest fame. The American
Revolution invites to a thorough discovery of the continent. It was
necessary that a European should discover America, but in the name of
love of country let a native explore its resources and boundaries. It
is my wish to be that man."
Thomas Jefferson was, at this time (1785), our minister to France,
"in every word and deed the representative of a young, vigorous and
determined state." Ledyard often sought his counsel and aid. Struck
by Ledyard's uncommon devotion to his one idea, Jefferson said to him
one day, "Why not go by land to Kamschatka, cross over in some of the
Russian vessels to Nootka Sound, fall down into the latitude of the
Missouri, and penetrate to and through that to the United States?"
This conversation curiously shows us that, at the time the American
Union was first formed, more was known about Kamschatka than about
the region lying between the Mississippi and the Pacific Ocean.
Through Siberia, at least, there was a travelled route, while from the
Mississippi to the Pacific there was none. The conversation is therefore
an instructive starting-point in the history of our country.
Although the enterprise itself failed to bear fruit at this time, the
coming together of these two men, one of whom became the apostle of the
American idea in its broadest sense, was like the striking together of
flint and steel. Fire followed it. Ledyard had the best knowledge of
the subject. Ledyard pointed out the way. Ledyard had given Jefferson
something to ponder, which, in his sagacious mind, soon grew to a
question of highest national importance.
Ledyard eagerly agreed to make the trial, provided that the Russian
Government would give its consent. This being granted, the explorer
set out for Kamschatka; but at Irkutsk, in Siberia, he was stopped and
turned back, in consequence of the jealousy of the Russian-American
Company, whose headquarters were at Irkutsk, and who feared their
interests would be endangered if this daring stranger were permitted to
pass into their territory.
From this time Ledyard's personal history ceases to be associated with
that of the Great West. But he was the first to perceive, perhaps dimly,
what was shortly to become, with a broader growth, the ruling idea of
American statesmen.
FOOTNOTE
[1] JOHN LEDYARD was a native of Groton, Conn.; (born 1751,
brother of Colonel William, who fell in the defence of Groton,
1781). John went first to Dartmouth College to be fitted as
an Indian missionary. In those primitive days the students
were called together by the blowing of a conch-shell. Though
quick and apt to learn, Ledyard hated study. He preferred
climbing the mountains about the college. In four months
he ran away. He, however, returned, but finding the rigid
discipline no less irksome than before, made his escape in a
canoe, in which he floated down the Connecticut River, from
Hanover to Hartford, one hundred and forty miles. Ledyard was
proud, sensitive, impulsive, and restive under correction or
restraint. Finding his purpose to enter the ministry thwarted,
in a fit of resentment he shipped for the Mediterranean as
a common sailor before the mast. This voyage was Ledyard's
preparation for service under Cook. He was in turn theological
student, sailor, soldier, explorer, and in his make-up all
these characters were combined to produce a thorough-going
explorer.
A YANKEE SHIP DISCOVERS THE COLUMBIA RIVER.
With the close of the Revolutionary War, the commercial spirit of our
countrymen began to re-assert itself in deeds which should stamp them
for all time as worthy sons of worthy sires. Far back, even when the
colonies were but a few feeble settlements strung along the Atlantic
seaboard, few people had shown greater enterprise in seeking avenues
for commerce than they.
[Illustration: MOUTH OF THE COLUMBIA RIVER.]
This was especially the case with the New-England colonies. War
had ruined their commerce, but with the coming of peace the shrewd
New-England merchants were on the lookout for new outlets, since nowhere
could ships be so cheaply built, while the population largely got their
living either on or from the sea. Besides this, they had a brand-new
flag of their own, of which they were justly proud, and which they
wished to see afloat on the most distant seas.
The discoveries made on the north-west coast by England, though kept
secret till after the close of the war, were by no means unknown to our
merchants and sailors, in whom the laudable desire to profit by every
avenue the ocean might throw open to honest enterprise and skill, was
inspired and increased by a condition of national freedom.
It was at this time that certain merchants of Boston formed (1787)
a partnership for beginning a trade between the north-west coast and
China. They fitted out the ship "Columbia," of two hundred tons, and
sloop "Washington," of ninety tons burden, with trading-goods, which
the masters were to barter for furs with the Indians, sell the furs
at Canton, and with the proceeds buy teas for the home-market. Large
profits were expected. As the United States was a new power at sea,
and her flag little known, the masters were provided with passports, to
certify they were honest traders sailing under an honest flag.
The owners, however, looked somewhat farther than a mere trading
voyage would suggest. They had in mind the establishment, under the
national authority, of permanent factories, somewhat similar to those
of the Hudson's Bay Company. Looking to this end, their masters, John
Kendrick and Robert Gray, were instructed to buy lands of the natives,
to build storehouses or forts, or make such other improvements on these
lands as would insure their permanent tenure to the owners. In so far
as occupation by any white people was concerned, the territory lying
between Cape Mendocino and the Straits of Fuca was known to be vacant,
though, out of England, Spain was thought to have the best claim to it.
Kendrick and Gray were therefore directed to begin operations on this
unexplored strip of coast, not only as traders, but as explorers of an
undiscovered country.
Less could not well be said of these voyages, because of the importance
they subsequently assumed in the dispute between England and the
United States about their respective boundaries, but we will leave that
question now to take its proper turn in the story, and go back to the
voyages themselves.
[Illustration: COIN STRUCK FOR THE VOYAGE.]
Both vessels[1] reached Nootka in the early autumn of 1788. Having
made her cargo, the "Columbia" set sail for Canton, sold her furs for
teas, with which she returned to Boston in August, 1790, thus first
carrying the flag quite round the world.
This time the Bostonians did not throw the tea overboard as they had
once done, when it came seasoned with an odious tax. A quite different
reception was given to the "Columbia" as she sailed up the harbor with
the stars and stripes fluttering at her mast-head, after an absence
of nearly three years. As she passed the Castle, the "Columbia"
fired a national salute, which the fortress immediately returned. The
loud-booming cannon brought the inhabitants in crowds to the wharves to
see what ship was receiving such honorable welcome. As the "Columbia"
rounded to, in the inner harbor, the people shouted, the cannon
pealed, as if the occasion were one worthy of public commemoration
and rejoicing. It was, indeed, felt to be the breaking away from old
despotisms which a colonial condition had so long imposed, while the
track round the globe was not yet so much travelled, or so well known,
as to make the "Columbia's" voyage seem any less a great achievement.
It happened that the "Columbia" had touched at Owyhee, the royal
residence of the king of the Sandwich Islands. Captain Gray persuaded
the king to let the crown prince go with him to the United States.
The prince was royally welcomed in Boston, and safely returned to his
native land, so bringing about a friendliness between Americans and the
islanders, of much benefit to commerce in the future.
Although the owners had lost money[2] by the venture, they were
public-spirited men, and determined on making a second trial. The
"Columbia" was therefore again fitted for sea, and in June, 1791, was
again breasting the waves of the North Pacific. During this second
voyage, Captain Gray saw the mouth of a river, into which, however, he
did not sail, because the surf broke with violence quite across it.
He, however, carefully noted down the latitude in his log; but when,
shortly after, he fell in with Vancouver, that officer doubted what Gray
told him about this river. It could not be there, he thought, since he
himself had carefully searched without finding it.
After parting company with Vancouver, Gray sailed south, with the
intention of knowing more about the river in question. When the entrance
was sighted, the "Columbia" was boldly steered for it with all sails
set. She safely ran in between the breakers, into a broad basin which
no keel but hers had ever ploughed before, and without anchoring held
her onward course fourteen miles up the river, surrounded by a swarm of
canoes, among which the stately ship moved a leviathan indeed.
When the anchor was let go, Captain Gray found himself quietly floating
on the bosom of a large freshwater river, to which, upon quitting it,
he gave the name of his ship,—the Columbia.[3]
[Illustration: AN OREGON BELLE.]
As a result of these voyages, the direct trade between the North Pacific
and China fell almost exclusively into the hands of American traders.
British merchants were restrained from engaging in it by the opposition
of their East India Company. Russian vessels were not admitted into
Chinese ports. We find the British explorer, Mackenzie, speaking
with much ill-humor about this state of things, which, nevertheless,
only goes to prove the energy and skill of American merchants and
ship-masters, who, from the first voyages of the "Columbia," were known
to the Indians of the north-west coast as Bostons, because these vessels
hailed from that port.
FOOTNOTES
[1] BOTH VESSELS. The "Washington," being a sort of tender
to the "Columbia," coasted about Vancouver Island and Straits
of Fuca. In pursuance of his instructions, her master bought
large tracts of land from native chiefs, from whom he took
regular deeds. Copper coins, and medals struck for the
purpose, were also given to the natives. Kendrick was the
first to collect sandalwood as an article of commerce.
[2] THE OWNERS LOST MONEY. "All concerned in that enterprise
have sunk fifty per cent of their capital. This is a heavy
disappointment to them, as they had calculated, every owner,
to make an independent fortune."—_Letter to General H. Knox._
[3] THE COLUMBIA RIVER. The entrance was sighted by Heceta
(Spaniard), 1775, who called the northern promontory St.
Roque. This name was soon given, on Spanish maps, to a river
St. Roque, flowing out into Heceta's inlet, who says, "These
eddies of the water caused me to believe that the place is the
mouth of some great river." He did not, however, attempt to
enter. Captain Meares (1788), in searching for this River St.
Roque, ran into the inlet, but, seeing nothing but breakers
ahead, left it under the conviction that there was no such
river. On this account he called the northern promontory Cape
Disappointment. The southern point was named by Gray, Point
Adams.
THE WEST AT THE OPENING OF THE CENTURY.
"_America now attains her majority._"
At the close of the Revolutionary War, almost nothing was known in
the American colonies about the country lying to the west of the
Mississippi. The sources of the Missouri[1] were unknown even to
French traders. Nobody knew that a great sister river carried the snows
of the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific, or that the head waters of these
two noble streams lay coiled about the feet of the same lofty chain.
Where, then, should we locate the West? Possibly central along the
eastern base of the Alleghanies, certainly remote at Pittsburg, and
perhaps reaching its vanishing-point somewhere about the Dark and Bloody
Ground of Kentucky. Among a host of foes civilization stood at bay here,
but would take no backward step.
France opened the way from east to west. France and England fought for
the primacy of the continent, and England won. Defeated France gave up
the idea of maintaining herself in America, and secretly ceded to Spain
what the war had left her west of the Mississippi, as a bankrupt might
convey his property out of the reach of his most pressing creditor.