THE history of the United States may be said to have begun with the formation in England of a company for the purpose of forming colonies in America. This was called the Virginia Company, and to it was given the right to hold all the land from Cape Fear to the St. Croix River. The Company had two divisions—the London Company, with control over the southern territory, and the Plymouth Company, controlling the northern. It was the London Company who founded the first colony. Three vessels, under Captain Christopher Newport, sailed from England in the year 1607, with instructions to land on Roanoke Island. A storm drove them into Chesapeake Bay, and so delighted were they with the beauty of its shores that they determined to settle there. Sailing up the James River, they found a convenient spot for landing, and on the 13th of May the colony of Jamestown was established. There were about a hundred men in the party, many of them gentlemen of more or less precarious fortune, whose object in leaving their native land was almost entirely selfish. They expected to find gold, and so great was their greed that they went directly to washing dust, instead of cultivating the ground. The summer that followed was a terrible one. The location proved unhealthy, and more than half the colony died of a pestilence. Only the friendly generosity of the Indians saved the rest from starvation. The situation was rendered more unendurable by quarrels and dissensions in the Governing Council, which consisted of seven men appointed before leaving England. In this Council had been Gosnold, the explorer, Captain Newport, and Captain John Smith. This latter personage was a man of marked individuality, one of those characters not uncommon in history, who are as cordially detested by half the world as they are warmly admired by the other half. At first prevented by his enemies from taking his place in the Council at all, arrested and kept under a cloud for months, the following autumn finds him in supreme and solitary control of the entire colony.

Things began to brighten a little at Jamestown. Supplies were plenty, and, under the careful management of Smith, promised to last all winter. Having nothing else to complain about, the dissenters now began to mutter against Smith for not having discovered the source of the Chickahominy, the theory being that the South Sea, or Pacific Ocean, was not far distant, and that some river running from the northwest would be sure to lead to it. Whether or not Smith had much hope of reaching the Pacific via the Chickahominy River is uncertain, but he did make an attempt to trace the stream to its head.

His adventures on that memorable voyage have been told in every history of the colonies and in every school geography since. How much is truth and how much imagination it is impossible to decide; it should be stated that the original story came from a person not so much celebrated for veracity as for other excellent qualities—that is to say, from Captain John Smith himself.

Nine white men accompanied him on the trip up the river. When at length the barge could advance no further, Captain Smith returned some miles to a bay, where he moored his bark out of danger, and, taking two men and two Indian guides, he proceeded in a canoe twenty miles higher up the river. The men in the barge had strict orders not to leave until their commander returned. As soon as he was fairly out of sight, the order was disobeyed; the men went on shore, and one of them was killed by Indians.

Smith, meantime, had neared the head of the river. The country was very wet and marshy, but there was no indication of the proximity of the Pacific Ocean. The canoe was tied up, and Smith took his gun and one Indian and went on shore after food for his party. But, as it turned out, the landing-place was ill-chosen. The two men in the canoe were set upon by Indians and killed, and Smith, after a desperate resistance, was captured. He asked for their chief, and was led before Opechancanough. Smith presented to him a mariner’s compass, which so entertained the savages that they forbore their first murderous intentions and contented themselves with leading him captive to the town of Orapakes, which was about twelve miles from what is now the city of Richmond. Here he was confined in one of the houses, and an enormous quantity of food set before him. It is not probable that his appetite was very good, under the circumstances. His captivity was not devoid of pleasant features, however; an Indian, who had received some kindness at the hands of the Jamestown colonists, showed his gratitude by presenting to Smith a warm fur garment. While the orgies and incantations were going on—supposedly with a view to divine the prisoner’s intentions concerning the Indians—Opitchapan, brother of Chief Opechancanough, who dwelt a little above, came down to see the great white man, and entertained him hospitably.

At last it was decided to take the prisoner to the chief place of council, and to let the exalted Powhatan pronounce his fate. Accordingly they journeyed to Werowocomoco, on the York River—then known as the Pamaunkee. Here they found Powhatan, reclining in rude state on a sort of a throne covered with mats, and further adorned by the presence of two dusky maidens, splendid with feathers and beads and red paint. The captive was received with solemn ceremony, a feast was spread, and then a long consultation took place. The result was a sentence of death.

Two large stones are brought and laid one upon the other before Powhatan; behold savage hands seize upon the unhappy Smith and lay his head upon the stones; the war-clubs are poised in air, the chief’s hand starts to give the fatal sign; at the foot of the throne, one gentle heart is throbbing wildly with mingled love and fear; poor little Pocahontas, while the stones were being brought, put in her plea for mercy, but it was not even noticed; she is the dearest thing in the world to that stern old chief, but even she has never yet dared dispute his authority. But when she sees that hand raised, her fear is swept away, everything is swept away but love; she utters one mad cry, and, flying from her place, throws herself down beside him, clasps his form in her arms and lays her head upon his. The fairest woman in the world saves the bravest man. Oh! most charming picture in history! Men pretend to believe that it is all a fabrication. What if it is? To leave it out of the history books takes all the color from the

story of those days. If it didn’t happen, it might have happened. Certainly something happened, for two days later Smith was permitted to return to Jamestown on the absurd little condition of sending back two great guns and a grindstone. This condition Smith faithfully fulfilled, to his credit, and in addition to the cannon and the grindstone he sent presents to Powhatan’s wives and children. Records are so stupid at times; they are careful in this case to mention the grindstone, but they give not the slightest hint of what Captain Smith sent Pocahontas. Smith’s conduct all through that affair is puzzling. By every canon of romance, he should have married the princess. That it was otherwise is the best proof of the truth of the story, for true stories always end inartistically.

When Smith returned to Jamestown, he found things going very badly, and the number of the colonists reduced to forty. He set to work to encourage them, and to make his task easier, a ship laden with stores and with additional settlers now arrived. The Indians were friendly, and great numbers of them appeared at Jamestown to trade. Pocahontas came, too, and brought all sorts of things to Captain Newport and to Smith, which she had undoubtedly wheedled out of her father, the great Powhatan.

When Captain Newport returned to England, he took with him twenty turkeys which Powhatan had given him in exchange for twenty swords. This bargain pleased the old chief so much that he tried to effect a similar one with Smith. Failing, and becoming infuriated, he ordered his people to go to Jamestown and take the weapons by force. The President of the colony, under pretense of orders from England not to offend the natives, would have allowed the robbery to take place, but Smith rose in wrath and drove the intruders from the settlement.

Another ship, the “Phoenix,” now arrived. The colony was increased to nearly two hundred souls. There were plenty of provisions and the sword difficulty, thanks to the mediation of Pocahontas, had been amicably settled, so that all hostilities were at an end for the time being. The year was 1608.

Smith continued his explorations, sailing around Chesapeake Bay and up to the head of the Potomac River. He traveled not less than three thousand miles that summer, and that his worth was beginning to be appreciated at Jamestown is evidenced by the fact that on his return he had the pleasure of accepting the presidency of the colony. This had been offered him before, but he had declined it.

Now he set about his duties in earnest. The men were put to work, some making glass, preparing tar and pitch, while Smith with thirty others went five miles below the fort to cut down trees and to saw planks. The Jamestown colony was always unfortunate in having too many adventurer-gentlemen in it. Smith had a hard time with them, but by his tact and good management he got more work out of them than any one else could have done.

Their life, diversified with some struggles with the Indians, a good deal of internal bickering and considerable ill-luck with crops, etc., continued for another year. In 1609 an addition to the colony of five hundred men and women, with stores and provisions, set sail from England. But these new settlers had no sooner landed than new troubles began. The leaders, although they brought no commission with them, insisted on assuming authority over the original colony, defying Smith, whom they feared and hated.

Anarchy reigned for a time. The ring-leaders, Ratcliffe, Archer, and others, were imprisoned. West, with one hundred and twenty men, formed an independent settlement at the falls of the James River, and another one hundred and twenty, under Martin, established themselves at Nansemond. But these leaders were unable to deal fairly with the Indians, and the new settlements were abandoned after much bloodshed. Smith did what he could to effect peace, but failing, gave up in disgust and returned to England.

After his departure, things went from bad to worse. Within six months vice and starvation had reduced the colony from five hundred to sixty persons, and these must also have perished had not relief come from England.

Shortly afterward Lord Delaware was sent out to be Governor of the colony. He brought with him supplies and a large number of emigrants. Following these came seven hundred more. The land, which had hitherto been held in common, was divided among the colonists, and an era of wise government and contented prosperity began. In 1613 Pocahontas married John Rolfe, and this event improved greatly the relations between the white people and the Indians. But three years after it occurred, Pocahontas and her husband went to Europe, where the gentle little woman died. She was deeply mourned by her husband and by her people, for she was not only good but she was beautiful and very clever. Powhatan did not long survive his daughter, and thus were the two best friends of the white men removed. The rapid increase of the colonists, and the spread of their settlements, began to alarm the Indians, and in 1622 a conspiracy was formed to destroy and wipe out the invasion of Europeans.

It is necessary to mention one or two events in the colony before this year. In 1615 the cultivation of tobacco was begun on a large scale. Other pursuits were neglected and corn was scarcely raised at all. The new article of commerce proved so profitable that it became a perfect mania. In 1619 the first legislative body ever organized in America met at Jamestown, where a colonial constitution was adopted. The next year (1620) a Dutch man-of-war sailed up the James and landed twenty negroes who were sold as slaves. The same year a cargo of young white women were sent over and sold as wives—a position supposed to be a little better than that of slaves. The price paid was one hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco per wife.

The colonists were unprepared for the hostilities which followed the death of Powhatan. His dominion passed to his brother Opitchapan, a feeble old man feared by no one. But there was one man who soon began to incite the natives to war. This man was the captor of Smith, Opechancanough. He has been called by some the brother of Powhatan, but this opinion is erroneous. He came of one of the tribes of the southwest, probably Mexico, and rose to his position of leader only through his natural ability to govern. Inspired with a hatred of the white men, he visited in person all the tribes of the confederacy of Powhatan and roused them to murderous fury. A few people in the colony scented danger, but the majority were so secure in the belief of safety that it was impossible to induce them to take measures for their own protection. The settlements were now eighty in number and spread in separate plantations over a space of three or four hundred miles.

On Friday, the 22d day of March, 1622, the Indians came into the settlements as usual with game and fish and fruits, which they offered for sale in the market place. Suddenly a shrill signal cry rang out, and then began a hideous scene of blood and death. In one morning three hundred and forty-nine settlers were massacred. It is remarkable that one single white man should have escaped, but surprised and defenseless as they were, the settlers rallied and actually succeeded in putting their assailants to flight. The village of Jamestown was warned of its danger by a young Indian woman, preparations for defense were hurriedly made, but no assault occurred.

The wildest panic now seized the colonists. Distant plantations were abandoned, and in a short time, instead of eighty settlements, there were only six, and these were huddled closely around Jamestown. The war with the Indians kept up incessantly. Opechancanough pursued the white men with deadly hatred, and the white men never lost an opportunity of murdering an Indian.

In 1624 the London Company was dissolved, and Virginia was declared a royal government. The colony retained the right to a representative assembly and of trial by jury. All the succeeding colonies claimed these rights, so that it was in Virginia that the foundation of American independence was laid.

Indian hostilities continued—grew worse, in fact, as the whites increased in number and in power. There was but one end to such an unequal struggle. It came about the year 1643. Opechancanough was a very old man—he had lived a hundred years; he could no longer walk alone—his very eyelids had to be lifted by the fingers of an attendant; but within his withered frame the spirit of hatred and bitterness was as full of energy as ever. His power over the confederacy of Powhatan was as great as of old, and once again he roused the savages to an attempt at a general massacre.

Five hundred white men were butchered, but Sir William Berkeley, placing himself at the head of a large body of troops, marched against the Indians and not only utterly routed them, but captured their aged chief and took him back to Jamestown. The confederacy instantly dissolved, and the white men’s power over the land was established more firmly than ever.

The second permanent settlement in the United States—or what is now the United States—was made by the Dutch in 1614. A fort was built on the extremity of the island on which New York now stands; another was erected at the site of the city of Albany, and the country between was called New Netherlands. The next year a settlement of some importance was made at Albany, but for many years the fort on Manhattan Island was a mere trading-post.

The first thing the Dutch did was to make treaties with the Indians. The Five Nations had long been at war with the Algonquins in Canada. The latter had allied with the French, who had settled there some years before, and with their aid defeated the Iroquois. It was with the hope of similar reinforcement that the Iroquois now hastened to make friends with this new colony of white men. The great treaty was made in 1618, on the banks of Norman’s Kill, and was witnessed by ambassadors from every tribe of the Five Nations. The pipe of peace was smoked and the hatchet buried, and on the spot where the emblem of war was hidden the Dutch vowed to erect a church.

Thus was the quiet possession of the country and of the Indian trade guaranteed the inhabitants of New Netherlands.

The actual colonization of the place began at once, but it was not until 1625 that a governor was appointed. In 1631 the Dutch possessions extended from Cape Henlopen to Cape Cod. This claim was disputed by the English settlers in New England, who also formed colonies on Long Island and in Connecticut. They endeavored to trade with the Hudson River Indians, and finally, in 1633, an English ship appeared at New Amsterdam. The governor, old Wouter van Twiller, ordered it to depart, but the captain, one Jacob Eelkins, went on shore, and, in a friendly sort of a way, requested permission to ascend the river. He added, casually, that while he would be very grateful for the permission, he intended to proceed whether it was granted or not. The governor’s answer was to order the Prince of Orange’s flag to be run up on the fort, and a salute of three guns to be fired for Holland. Whereupon Eelkins ran up the English flag, and saluted with three guns the King of England. Then he sailed up the river to Fort Orange, where he set up a lively trade with the natives. This was the beginning of a gradual usurpation of power.

Trouble with the Indians now began, which lasted until 1645. In 1638 the Swedes settled on the Delaware near the site of Wilmington, and extended their possessions until, in 1655, the Dutch attacked and conquered them. In 1664 the King of England granted his brother James all the country between the Connecticut and the Delaware. He had not the smallest right to do so, for the land belonged to the Dutch both by right of discovery and of settlement. England and Holland were at peace, and the overthrow of the Dutch dominion in America was an act of glaring injustice, and it is only surprising that Holland made such feeble resistance.

There is little that is important but much that is interesting in the history of these Dutch settlements. Slavery had been in existence since 1628, but it was slavery in a comparatively mild form. It was allowed a man to purchase his own freedom, and a great number of slaves did so. A very democratic spirit reigned throughout the colony. The republican sentiment which they had brought with them from Holland, never left these settlers. There was no religious persecution, no intolerance, no such cruel wrongs committed in the name of right as in New England. They were good, honest burghers. They built mills and breweries, and raised fat cattle and grew fat themselves and were very happy.

The first attempt to colonize New England was made by Gosnold in 1602, and was unsuccessful. In 1606 the Plymouth company established a settlement at the mouth of the Kennebec River, but the forty-five daring spirits of which it was composed abandoned it after a winter of suffering, and returned to England. Captain John Smith explored the coast in 1614, making a map of its length and giving it its present name. His earnest attempts at colonization failed, and it was not until the arrival of the Puritans in 1620 that a permanent settlement was formed.

These Puritans, it is scarcely necessary to explain, were the most austere of the English “Non-Conformists,” or dissenters of the Established Church. Most of them were Nottinghamshire farmers, and so mercilessly were they persecuted at home on account of their religion that they determined to emigrate to Holland, where a London congregation had fled some years before, and where they in turn were followed by a Lincolnshire congregation. Holland becoming the seat of violent political agitation, they resolved to emigrate to America. In July, 1620, they embarked for England in the ship “Speedwell.” At Southampton they met the “Mayflower,” which was also engaged for the voyage. They put to sea twice, but were obliged to return, as the “Speedwell” proved unseaworthy. Finally the “Mayflower” sailed alone on the 6th of September. Their destination was a point near the Hudson River, just within the boundaries of the territory of the London Company. This must have been the sea-coast of the State of New Jersey.

At early dawn of the 9th of November, 1620, the white sand-banks of Massachusetts came into sight; their course lay to the south, but so dangerous became the shoals and breakers that they resolved to retrace their vessel’s way, and two days later, at noon, they dropped anchor in the bay formed by the curved peninsula which terminates in Cape Cod.

Here, while the vessel lay at anchor, a brief governmental compact was drawn up, and John Carver, who had been very prominent in obtaining the King’s permission for their enterprise, was chosen governor of the colony. In the afternoon “fifteen or sixteen men well armed” were sent on shore to reconnoitre and to collect fuel. They returned at evening bringing good report of the country, and the welcome news that there was neither person nor dwelling in sight. The next day was Sunday, which the emigrants kept as strictly as usual. Monday morning, while the women washed and the men began their labors by hauling a boat on shore for repairs, Miles Standish and sixteen men set off on foot to explore the country. They returned Friday evening bringing some Indian corn which they had found in a deserted hut. The explorations were kept up for several weeks. At last a suitable location was decided upon; there was a convenient harbor, the country was well wooded; it had clay, sand, and shells for bricks and mortar, and stone for chimneys; there was plenty of good water, and the sea and beach contained a plentiful supply of fish and fowl. It was on Christmas Day that they landed. The record says: “Monday, the 25th day, we went on shore, some to fell timber, some to saw, some to rive, and some to carry; so no man rested all that day.” They first erected a building for common occupation. Nineteen plots for dwelling-houses were laid out, and in spite of the bitter cold the little settlement gradually built itself into a town. Sickness set in, and within four months’ time one-half of their number was swept away. It was a terrible winter, but there was no inclination to weaken or to despond on the part of the heroic Pilgrims. They were in constant fear of the Indians, and the necessity for defenses becoming daily more apparent, a military organization was formed, with the valiant Miles Standish as Captain, and the fortification on the hill overlooking the dwellings was mounted with five guns.

“Warm and fair weather” came at last; and never could spring have seemed fairer to these people than when it greeted them first in New England. The colony at Plymouth grew and prospered. The Indians made several threats of hostility but were each time repressed by Miles Standish and his men.

In 1628 another settlement was made at Salem, under John Endicott. The next year this colony was large enough to admit of a lively quarrel, the consequence of which was a division of interests and the establishment of Charlestown. In 1630 the “Colony of Massachusetts Bay” was augmented by the arrival of a large number of settlers, many of them being people of education and refinement. The towns of Boston, Watertown, Roxbury, and Dorchester were founded. In August the first Court of Assistants met since the arrival of the colonists, and voted to build houses and to raise salaries for ministers. This year was made a bold step toward the establishment of civil liberty in the removing of the governing council from England to Massachusetts. In 1633 the settlement of Connecticut was begun. In another year there were “between three and four thousand Englishmen distributed among twenty hamlets along and near the seashore.”

It seems a good deal of a pity that these grand old Pilgrim Fathers had so little sense of humor, else the absurdity of allowing no one liberty of conscience, after they themselves had fled from just such a state of affairs, must have dawned upon them. The early history of New England is one long catalogue of religious persecutions. To the first of these is due the settlement of Rhode Island. Later dissensions helped to people Connecticut, Maine, and New Hampshire.

Roger Williams was a talented young Puritan preacher who had been driven out of England by the intolerance of Archbishop Laud. Arriving in Boston, he found himself quite as much out of harmony with the Church in that place as he had been with the Church of England. He was subsequently called to a Salem pastorate, where his doctrines were very popular; everywhere else in the colonies they were regarded as abominable. No wonder, for the obnoxious parson declared boldly that it was wrong to enforce an oath of allegiance to any monarch or magistrate, that all religious sects had a right to claim equal protection from the laws, and that civil magistrates had no right to restrain the consciences of men, or to interfere with their modes of worship or religious beliefs. This heretical doctrine, if carried to its logical conclusion, would permit even Roman Catholics and Quakers to dwell in peace! It was decided to send Williams to England, where he would undoubtedly have fared ill, for he had preached a crusade against the cross of St. George in the English standard, pronouncing it a relic of superstition and idolatry, and so inflaming the

hearts of his people, that Endicott, one of the members of the Court of Assistants, publicly cut out the cross from the flag displayed before the governor’s house. So Williams refused to obey the order to return to England, and, leaving the colony with a few of his friends, traveled southward, and planted a settlement which he named Providence. This was in 1636. The following year his new colony was reinforced by another company of religious refugees, who merit more than passing notice.

New England had become the Mecca of all who were estranged from the Established Church at home. Crowds of new settlers flocked thither, lured by the hope of what they called religious liberty. Among these were two especially conspicuous figures—Hugh Peters, the enthusiastic chaplain of Oliver Cromwell, and Henry Vane, son of Sir Henry Vane, a Privy Counsellor in high favor with the King. Vane was received in the colony with great admiration; and indeed, the religious zeal which induced him to relinquish all his prospects in England and embrace poverty and exile for conscience’ sake is to be highly commended. His humility of manner and rigidity in religious observances, as well as his business ability, caused him to be elected governor of the colony about as soon as he arrived. But practical duties occupied little of his attention; he was almost entirely taken up with theological subtleties and doctrinal hair-splittings. These were excited still further by a woman whose influence at that time began to create great disturbance throughout the entire colony. It was the custom in New England for the chief men in the congregations to hold weekly meetings, in order to repeat and discuss the sermon of the previous Sunday. From these meetings women were sternly excluded, and one Mrs. Hutchinson, whose husband was a prominent man in the colony, began to assemble in her house a number of women, who held pious exercises similar to those of the men. At first Mrs. Hutchinson satisfied herself with repeating the sermons and teachings of the clergyman, but soon she began to pick flaws in the discourses and to add opinions of her own. She taught that sanctity of works was no sign of spiritual safety, but that God dwelt personally within all good men, and it was alone by inward revelations and impressions that they received the discoveries of the divine will. It was all very abstract and unhealthy, but so eloquently was it set forth and proclaimed by the prophetess that she gained a vast number of proselytes, not alone among the women, but the men as well. Vane defended and upheld her wildest theories, and, following his example, the interest increased. The dissension grew more bitter with every conference, every day of fasting and humiliation held by the new sect. Finally, in 1637, Mrs. Hutchinson was banished, and many of her disciples withdrew voluntarily and joined the Providence population. Vane returned to England in disgust, and no one lamented his departure.

Roger Williams’s colony, so largely increased, purchased from the Indians a fertile island in Narragansett Bay, to which they gave the name Rhode Island. In this community no religious persecutions were allowed. The humane principles of its founder were firmly instilled into the hearts of the people, and Rhode Island soon became a refuge for the oppressed of all the other settlements.

Connecticut owes its origin to similar causes. The rivalship of two pastors in the Massachusetts Bay settlement resulted in the victory of Mr. Cotton over Mr. Hooker; the latter, however, was not deserted, by any means, and when he proposed establishing a colony of his own at a distance from his rival, a goodly number of his friends and some of Mrs. Hutchinson’s admirers offered to accompany him. The west bank of the Connecticut River was decided upon as an inviting spot, and in 1636 about a hundred men, with their wives and children and chattels, after a terrible march through wildernesses of swamp and forest, arrived there and laid the foundation of a town.

Pennsylvania was granted, in 1681, to William Penn, who had previously been interested in the settlement of Quakers in New Jersey. He soon after obtained a grant of the present State of Delaware, then called “The Territories.” In September, 1682, he set sail for his new province, with a large number of his co-religionists. The story of their peaceful settlement is familiar to all. The code of laws governing them had for its foundation the principle of civil and religious liberty. Penn returned to England in 1684, leaving the city of Philadelphia, which he had founded and named, a prosperous town of three hundred houses and a population of two thousand five hundred. These Quakers, it must be said, had very little in common with the sect which was so persecuted in the New England States. These latter were really a body of separatists, called Ranters, and their excesses were such as to justify the horror and disgust of any community.

The settlement of the southern colonies of the United States maybe dealt with briefly. Georgia was not settled until 1732. The provinces of North and South Carolina were originally one. The earliest permanent settlements were made by emigrants from Virginia in 1650. In 1665 another settlement was made by a party of planters from Barbadoes. A Huguenot colony from France was sent out by the King of England. The city of Charlestown was founded, and was at once made the capital of the colony. The most interesting feature attending the settlement of the Carolinas was the “Grand Model Government” devised by John Locke, the celebrated English philosopher. The object was to make the colony as nearly as possible like the monarchy of which it was a part, and to “avoid erecting a numerous democracy.” The scheme never took root in Carolina. The Grand Nobles, Palatines, Caciques, and other exalted officers were in absurd contrast to the rude cabins and pioneer habits of living. For twenty years efforts were made to establish it, and the discord of which the contest was the cause materially interfered with the rapid growth of the colony.

The State of Virginia was also inclined to an aristocratic form of government; its people boasted themselves “staunch advocates of the Church of England and partisans of the King.” When Charles I was executed, they accepted the Commonwealth without a pretense of enthusiasm, and when Charles II came to the throne they welcomed the change with great rejoicings. Shortly afterward, however, a royal governor, Sir William Berkley, was sent out to them, and such a tyrant he proved to be that the people became exasperated. Commercial laws were instituted that bade fair to beggar the planters; tobacco, for instance, could be sent to none but English ports, and it had not only to pay a large duty on reaching England, but it was taxed heavily before leaving. The government took no steps to repress the Indian outrages which were constantly occurring; the Assembly, instead of being elected every two years, was kept permanently in session, and the country was overrun with office-seekers. The culmination of these troubles was the outbreak known as the Bacon Rebellion, which commenced in 1675, and grew principally out of the indifference of the authorities on the Indian question. Nothing decisive was gained by this rebellion, but it is mentioned to show the disposition of the people against tyranny.

The other English colonies were instituted under conditions of liberality, and, in spite of their bigotry and intolerance, they enjoyed far more religious and political liberty than any European country of that day. The home government took no part in their original formation, except in the very easy requirements of the charters granted the proprietors. Lord Baltimore was left at full liberty to establish his own form of government in Maryland, and his preference was extremely liberal. William Penn was not interfered with in Pennsylvania. The government of Plymouth was formed without any restriction or even suggestion from abroad, by a party of self-reliant men, who were well fitted by temperament and experience for self-government. All the New England colonies gradually assumed the prerogatives of government, even to the power of capital punishment. In 1643 a further step in the evolution of a republic was made; the colonies of Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Haven, and Plymouth united under the title of The United Colonies of New England. Rhode Island was not admitted, because she would not consent to be incorporated with Plymouth. Rhode Island differed from all the colonies, in that there was no religious restriction to the rights of citizenship. New Hampshire was then a part of the Massachusetts colony. The governing body of the confederacy consisted of an annual Assembly of two deputies from each colony—whose local government continued as before. This independence was scarcely interfered with by the mother country until after the death of Cromwell. With the re-establishment of the monarchy came the desire to restrict the liberties of the colonies, grown flourishing and important. Charles II granted his brother James, the Duke of York, the whole territory from the Connecticut River to the shores of the Delaware, and this grant was followed by the illegal seizure of New Amsterdam, thereafter New York. The Duke of York made Edmund Andros governor of the province, and began a series of tyrannies, which only increased with the accession of the Duke to the throne. Andros was now made governor of all the New England provinces, his rule extending over New York. On arriving in Boston, in 1686, he immediately demanded a surrender of all the charters of the colonies, while edicts were issued annuling the existing liberties of the people. Connecticut refused to give up its charter, and Andros marched to Hartford with a body of soldiers to enforce the order. This was in 1687. An entirely new order of things now began. The liberty of the press was restrained, and the laws for the support of the clergy were suspended. Magistrates only were allowed to perform marriage ceremonies. The people were taxed at the governor’s pleasure, and, above all, titles of the colonists to their lands were declared of no value. Indian deeds Sir Edmund esteemed no better than a “scratch of a bear’s claw.” Even grants by charter and declarations of preceding kings were insufficient. The owners were obliged to take out patents for their estates, and in some cases a fee of fifty pounds was demanded. People were fined and imprisoned in the most arbitrary way; all town meetings were prohibited, except the one in May; no person was permitted to leave the country without leave from the governor. Despite his pains, however, petitions were sent to England, but if they were read they were not heeded. Early in 1689 came the news of the accession of William of Orange. The people immediately rose up against Andros, and forced him to leave the country. In New York State a similar uprising against their tyrant, the lieutenant of Andros, took place at the same time, known as the Leisler Revolt.

The people renewed their former mode of government, without being interfered with, at first, by the new monarch. In 1692 a new charter was granted Massachusetts, which differed from the original one in little, except that the King reserved the right to appoint a royal governor.

About this time the influence of the several wars which had raged in Europe between England and France began to manifest itself in the colonies of those countries in America. Invasions of each other’s territory became frequent, in which the Indians took part, glad of a chance to give vent to their savage instincts in murdering the white men. King William’s war raged from 1689 to 1697. In 1702 another war broke out between France and England, and was marked by much bloodshed in America. The Iroquois were neutral in this contest, thus preserving New York from danger, the weight of suffering falling upon New England. The English invasion of Canada was begun in 1710, when Port Royal was captured and its name changed to Annapolis. Nova Scotia—or Acadia—was permanently added to the English possessions. In 1713 the war ended, with the peace of Utrecht, and in the succeeding thirty years of tranquillity the colonies gained rapidly in population and importance. Hostilities broke out again in 1744, and scarcely ceased until the close of the French and Indian war.

This war, unlike the others, had its origin in America and ended in a decided change in the relative positions of the French and English colonies. The original basis of the contest was a dispute as to the ownership of the territory bordering on the Ohio. The real merits of the case may be summed up in the pertinent inquiry sent by two of the Indian chieftains to inquire “where the Indians’ land lay, for the French claimed all the land on one side of the river and the English on the other.” Neither of the colonial contestants had the slightest right to the territory.

The first offensive act was committed by the French, who seized three British traders who had advanced into the disputed country. The Indians, aroused by these evident hostilities, began their border ravages, instigated by the French. Orders now arrived from England to the Governor of Virginia, directing him to build two forts near the Ohio to prevent French encroachments and to check Indian depredations. But the order came too late; the French had already built forts and had taken possession of the territory. It was decided to send a messenger to the commander of the French forces on the Ohio and demand his authority for invading the territory of Virginia. For this mission was selected a young man of only twenty-one years, but who was already a Major in the Virginia militia and a man of note in the colony—the man was George Washington. His journey occupied forty-one days and was full of exciting adventure. His consultation with the French authorities left no doubt as to their martial attitude, and Major Washington returned at once to Virginia, where efforts were immediately begun to raise a colonial army. The other colonies took little interest in the affair and Virginia had to depend mainly on herself. As soon, however, as it became apparent that war with France was inevitable, the necessity for co-operation in the colonies was demonstrated, and the English government recommended that a convention be held at Albany for the purpose of forming a league with the Iroquois, and also of devising a plan of general defense against the enemy. The convention met in June, 1754, made a treaty with the Six Nations, and considered the subject of colonial union. A plan was proposed by Benjamin Franklin, of Philadelphia, Postmaster-General of America, and even then regarded as one of the ablest thinkers in the colonies. This plan was adopted—by odd coincidence—on the 4th of July. It provided a general government for the American colonies, presided over by a governor-general appointed by the King, and conducted by a council chosen by the colonial legislatures. The council was to have the power to raise troops, declare war, make peace, collect money, and pass all measures necessary for public safety. The veto power was relegated to the governor-general, and all laws were to be submitted for approval to the King.

But the plan was rejected, both by the colonial Assemblies and by the King; by the former because it gave too much power to the King, and by the latter because it gave too much power to the colonies. Then the British ministry took the control of the war into its own hands and determined to send out an army strong enough to force the French within their rightful lines. It was early in 1755 that Braddock was dispatched from Ireland with two regiments of infantry to co-operate with the Virginia forces. Fighting began at once, although no actual declaration of war between the two countries was made until a full year and a half later.

The interesting and important events of this war must be merely alluded to; the result was victory for the English, the treaty of peace being signed in Paris, February 10th, 1763. By its terms, Canada, Nova Scotia, and Cape Breton were to belong to England; France relinquished all claim to the territory east of the Mississippi, and was confirmed in her title to the country west; Spain ceded to Great Britain Florida and all its title to country east of the Mississippi River. The most important result of the war was felt in the colonies, rather than in England. It educated a nation of soldiers; it taught the Americans how strong they really were, and how little they need depend on Great Britain for defense. The hard feeling engendered by the superiority assumed by the English officers and the enforced subordination of the Americans was the beginning of a breach which was destined never to be healed. A vast amount of debt is always a result of war. The colonies had lost above thirty thousand men, and their debt amounted to nearly four million pounds. Massachusetts alone had been reimbursed by Parliament. England herself was smothered in debts—she had been through four wars in seventy years—and her indebtedness reached the appalling sum of one hundred and forty million pounds. The scheme of colonial taxation to provide a certain and a regular revenue began to be agitated. But the colonies already had a heavy burden of taxation. They were in no mood to receive patiently any further encroachments on their civil rights. Many of the old laws of restriction on commerce—the duties on sugar and molasses, for example—had long been openly evaded. Until the accession of George III the authorities made no resistance to this opposition, but in 1761, when the third George came to the throne—that “very obstinate young man,” as Charles Townshend described him—determined to enforce the law, and “writs of assistance”—that is, search warrants—were issued, by which custom-house officers were empowered to search for goods which had avoided the payment of duty. The people of Boston resented these measures vigorously, and in spite of official vigilance smuggling increased, while the colonial trade with the West Indies was well-nigh destroyed.

In 1764 the sugar duties were reduced, but new duties were imposed on articles hitherto imported free. At the same time Lord Grenville proposed the stamp tax. All pamphlets, newspapers, almanacs, all bonds, leases, notes, insurance policies—in a word, all papers used for legal purposes—in order to be valid, were to be drawn up on stamped paper, purchasable only from King’s officers appointed for the purpose. The plan met with the entire approval of the British Parliament, but its enactment was deferred until the next year, in order that the colonies might have an opportunity to express their feelings on the subject.

This deference to the wishes of the Americans was a mere blind, however. The preamble of the bill openly avowed the intention of raising revenue from “His Majesty’s dominion in America;” the act also gave increased power to the admiralty courts, and provided more stringent means for enforcing the payment of duties. The colonies received the news of these proposed enactments with indignation. The right of Parliament to impose duties and taxes on an unrepresented people was denied. In Boston, always the seat of democratic sentiment, the protest was made in no uncertain tone. New York also expressed her feelings strongly. Even Virginia was loud in her disapproval. Nevertheless, the bill passed the House of Commons five to one; in the Lords, it met with no opposition whatever.

The next day Benjamin Franklin, then in London, wrote to his friend, Charles Thompson: “The sun of liberty is set; you must light the candles of industry and economy.” “The torches we shall light,” was the reply, “shall be of quite another kind.”

Petitions and memorials were addressed to Parliament, the mild and conciliatory tones of which but faintly reflected the ferment and excitement in the colonies. An association sprang suddenly into existence under the name of “Sons of Liberty,” whose special object seemed to be the intimidation of the stamp officers. In all the colonies the officers were compelled or persuaded to resign, and the stamps that arrived were either left unpacked or were seized and burned. Resolutions were passed to import no more goods from England until the Stamp Act was repealed.

A change in the British ministry now took place, and, in spite of opposition, the bill was repealed. This was done on the ground of expediency only, and it was soon made evident that little had been gained to the colonies. The Stamp Act was gone, but the Declaratory Act, the Sugar Act, the Mutiny Act—requiring the colonists to provide quarters for English troops—remained. The project of taxing the American colonies was by no means relinquished. Duties were imposed on paper, glass, painters’ colors, and tea. A large number of British officers were stationed in Boston to enforce the payment of these duties. Riots followed, and throughout the colonies the greatest indignation and excitement prevailed. The British

government tried vainly to induce the colonists to buy their merchandise, but, failing, made one last effort by effecting an arrangement with the East India Company, by which a quantity of tea was shipped to America, to be sold at a price less than had been charged before the duties were imposed. Cargoes were sent to New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Charleston, S. C. The inhabitants of New York and Philadelphia sent them back to England; in Charleston the tea was stored in cellars, where it finally perished; in Boston men disguised as Indians boarded the ships and threw the tea overboard.

The consequence of this last rash action was the passing of the Port Bill, whereby the port of Boston was declared closed, and the charter of Massachusetts altered materially to abridge the liberties of the people. General Gage was sent with troops to occupy Boston, which was already fully garrisoned with English soldiers.

In 1774 delegates from eleven colonies met at Philadelphia and formed themselves into a Congress. A declaration of rights was agreed upon, and a repeal of the obnoxious measures resolved to be necessary to the restoration of harmony between Great Britain and America. An address was prepared and forwarded to the King and the people of Great Britain. Notwithstanding these open threats of war, the coercive measures continued. The colonies were making preparation

for defense, and an outbreak was imminent at any time. The occasion soon arrived. A quantity of military stores were housed at Concord, eighteen miles from Boston, and General Gage sent eight hundred British troops to destroy them. At Lexington they met with the first protest, in the form of seventy armed men, who were ordered to disperse. The order not being obeyed, the British fired, killing eight of the colonists and dispersing the rest. At Concord another stand was made, but the troops succeeded in performing their commission. All the country now sprang to arms. A small army appeared in the environs of Boston, further increased by troops from Connecticut. The forts, arsenals, and magazines throughout the colonies were seized by the Americans; Crown Point and Ticonderoga were taken by Ethan Allen, with about two hundred and fifty raw New Hampshire men, reinforced by Benedict Arnold and a small body of Connecticut militia. The battle of Bunker’s Hill followed.

The second Continental Congress, which met in Philadelphia May 10th, 1775, voted to raise and equip an army of twenty thousand men, and named George Washington as Commander-in-Chief. On the 2d of July General Washington arrived at Cambridge, and took command of the American forces. Two expeditions against the British in Canada were organized. One under General Montgomery captured Montreal, took a large number of prisoners, and secured considerable property. The other under Benedict Arnold marched through Maine and joined Montgomery before Quebec. Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut each armed two vessels to operate against the enemy. Congress also resolved to equip an armament of thirteen vessels. Three ships from London, Glasgow, and Liverpool were captured, and their cargoes of military stores for the British were confiscated.

In the autumn General Gage sailed for England, and the command of the British army devolved upon General Howe. Parliament now declared the colonies out of royal protection, and an army of seventeen thousand mercenaries were employed to aid in their subjection. On the 7th of June, 1776, a motion was made in Congress for declaring the colonies free and independent States. The motion was discussed, and on the fourth of July approved, by a nearly unanimous vote.

The struggle had now begun in earnest. Since his arrival at Cambridge General Washington had been engaged in organizing an army out of his raw recruits, and in efforts to provide them with ammunition and suitable clothing. The regular force of Americans in February was about fourteen thousand men; in addition to these about six thousand of the Massachusetts militia were at the disposal of the Commander-in-Chief. With these troops he succeeded in forcing the British to evacuate Boston. This victory was followed by defeat in Canada, the complete British possession of New York, and of the States of New Jersey and Rhode Island. In the spring of 1777 a ship arrived from France with upwards of eleven thousand stand of arms and one thousand barrels of gunpowder. The army was fully provided with arms and ammunition, and more confidence was felt in the chances for success. As the Continental army gradually regained possession of New Jersey after Washington’s victory of Trenton, the depleted ranks began to fill up, and the fortunes of the United States never again sank to such a low ebb as they had after the British invasion of New York.

About this time several French officers of distinction entered the service of the United States, among them the Marquis de Lafayette, the Baron St. Ovary, and Count Pulaski, the latter a noble Pole. They were all of the greatest service to the Americans. The most important addition to our ranks was that of the Baron Steuben, who had been aide-de-camp to Frederick the Great, and had served through the Seven Years’ War. After leaving the Prussian army he had been Grand Marshal of the Court of the Prince of Hohenzollern-Hechingen. “The object of my greatest ambition,” he wrote Washington, “is to deserve the title of a citizen of the United States by fighting for the cause of your liberty.” He added that after serving under the King of Prussia, the only man he cared to fight under now was General Washington. The Baron was made Inspector-General of the army, and it was due to him largely that the raw forces were brought into the discipline necessary to insure final victory. Under him the army soon began to operate like a great machine.

The American cause advanced steadily. The successive campaigns of 1777-’78-’79-’80, and ’81 must be epitomized. After the British were driven out of New Jersey they approached Philadelphia by Chesapeake Bay. In August Sir William Howe marched from the head of Elk River in Maryland toward the capital. The armies met on the 11nth of September on the Brandywine River, and the Americans were defeated. This gave Philadelphia to the British. Another indecisive engagement occurred at Germantown shortly afterward. The campaign in Pennsylvania now ended and Washington retired for winter quarters in Valley Forge. Meanwhile events of importance were taking place in the North. General Burgoyne with seven thousand British and German troops were defeated at Fort Schuyler, at Bennington, and on the plains of Saratoga. Burgoyne’s army surrendered with nearly six thousand men and much military property, and again Ticonderoga and the North were in the hands of the Americans. This was really the turning point of the war.

France, which had for over a year kept up a wavering policy, now entered into a treaty of alliance with the United States, in which it was agreed that if war should break out between France and England during the existence of the war in America, it should be made a common cause, and that neither of the contracting parties should conclude peace with England without obtaining formal consent of the other. They further agreed not to lay down their arms until the independence of the United States should be assured by treaty.

On the alliance of America with France it was resolved in England to evacuate Philadelphia and concentrate the royal forces in the harbor of New York. The only other important advance made by the enemy was on the city of Savannah, which was captured, with the shipping in the river and much ammunition and stores. The campaign of 1779 was attended with no important results. The town of Charleston, S. C., was taken by the British, but not held for any length of time. A battle was fought at Savannah in an effort to dislodge the British troops at that place, which was so disastrous to the Americans that the militia, discouraged, retired to their homes, and the French fleet left the country. No sooner did Sir Henry Clinton receive certain information of the departure of the French allies than he sent a large expedition against South Carolina. In April, 1780, Charleston was surrounded, and a month later Fort Moultrie surrendered, thus completing the capture of the city. This year also occurred Benedict Arnold’s treachery and the execution of the gallant AndrÉ.

The military movements of the year 1781 were principally confined to the South. The British were defeated twice in South Carolina, which closed the war in that State. In Virgina, at Yorktown, the British army under General Cornwallis surrendered, which practically decided the result of the Revolutionary War. Commissioners for negotiating peace were now appointed by both nations, and on the 30th of November, 1782, they agreed on provisional articles, which were to be inserted in a future treaty of peace, to be concluded finally when peace was established between France and England. On the 11th of April, 1783, Congress issued a proclamation, declaring a cessation of arms on land and sea. The definite treaty of peace was signed in Paris on the 3d of September. On the 25th of November the British troops left the city of New York, and on the same day the Americans took possession.