The giant of three wars; a life of General Winfield Scott

Introduction

In writing of the lives of some great men we find that their careers lead up easily and gradually to some crowning effort, some great episode. It is very seldom that we meet men in history, outside of those born to high positions, whose lives are filled with doings of national importance ; especially is it so of military leaders. Their reputation depends upon some great campaign ; perhaps one boldly achieved victory has been the cause of all their fame.

With the hero of this narrative it was different. Events crowded themselves into his life. He had won his spurs and demonstrated his ability at a time when most men are but in the school of great affairs. Many times Scott had been compared to Napoleon

V in his wonderful grasp of situations and surroundings ; but yet it remained for him to gather his largest honors in his later years.

It is impossible to build up any fictitious romance around a man with a life so filled with actual doings, and, in a book of this kind, space is all too short even to put them down in the order that they happened. It is very seldom that a soldier has fifty years of continual active service to his credit, yet this is true of Scott. But the people of to-day know little of him, though many who are still below middle age remember seeing him alive.

He came almost within reaching distance of being the President of the United States. When the civil war broke out he was at the head of the army, an old man. His mind was clear, but he had reached the time when men have to step aside, and he did so ; grudgingly, perhaps, for that ambition to serve and to command remained with him to his death.

One of the things he said — and he said vi

INTRODUCTION

many things worth remembering — might well be preserved : ** The world is made up of little things, and nothing is too small to be despised if it counts in the summing up of one's duties."

** Republics," some one has written, " are ungrateful ; but posterity is just, and history is eventually impartial."

Perhaps this little book may lead people to read more deeply of a man who may have had his faults, as all men have, but who possessed those qualities that make men great — a sense of duty, a love of country, a brave heart and an indomitable will, and a gentle and loving sympathy for the suffering or the unfortunate.

vn

Contents

Introduction ....

I.— School-days in old Virginia . II. — The volunteer ....

III. — From peace to war IV. — The battle at Queenstown V. — A prisoner of war VI. — From Fort George to Chippewa VII. — Chippewa to Niagara .

Chapter I

WiNFiELD Scott came of a sturdy ancestry. His father, William Scott, a Revolutionary soldier, had married in Petersburg, Va., in the year 1780, the beautiful Miss Ann Mason, the daughter of a neighbor. William was a Scotchman by descent, for his father, one of the clan Buccleuch, had escaped to America after the fateful battle of Culloden in 1746. Winfield did not remember his grandfather on his father's side, but he remembered well his mother's father, Daniel Mason, and his grandmother also, who was the only daughter of John Winfield, the wealthiest man in the colony of Virginia. At the time Winfield was born, at Laurel Branch, Va., June 13, 1786,

I an aunt and an uncle were still living, sister and brother of his mother ; and, as the uncle was unmarried and the laws of Virginia in those days were like those of England, landed property descending in line to the male heirs, the boy was at that time destined, it appeared, to have much of the world's goods, and the pathway that stretched before him was an easy one. Perhaps the subsequent story of his life might have been changed altogether if the circumstances had not been altered. Very early he began to receive a good training for the battle of life.

Winfield's mother was a very religious woman, and she intended to bring up her only child to be a God-fearing man, and in this she well succeeded, for it was she who laid the foundations of his strong and upright character. But, despite the fact that in many ways he was old for his years, he was much the same as any other boy and had a boy's love for fun, adventure, and mischief. On one occasion, when he was only seven years old, the idea seized him while he was preparing for church, that a ramble in the sunlit fields would be much more to his liking than the close atmosphere of the meeting-house ; and so, about the time that he was expected to be ready for divine worship, he hid himself in one of the empty guest-chambers. There he was found by one of the servants and escorted to the presence of his mother. Mrs. Scott believed in the old adage of the danger of spoiling children, according to biblical maxim, and a switch was sent for. But little Winfield did not cringe or beg. Looking up into his mother's face, and then glancing at the instrument of punishment, a small branch cut from a Lombardy poplar, he gravely quoted a verse from St. Matthew, in the lesson of the day, " Every tree that bringeth forth not good fruit should be hewn down and cast into the fire." Mrs. Scott said nothing; she put aside the instrument of punishment, and taking Winfield by the hand, she reasoned with him piously as they walked on to church, which probably did him more good than the whipping would have done.

Winfield's uncle, Mr. Mason, from whom the boy would have inherited the vast estates of his great-grandfather, had late in life married a Miss Greenway. Soon a son was born to him, and the birth of several other children followed within the course of the next few years. Of course this made a great difference to young Winfield Scott, for instead of looking forward to the time when he would in the due course of events be a wealthy man, his mother impressed upon him the fact that he would have his own way to make and that his place in the world depended upon his own exertions.

For some time Winfield had studied only with his mother and his uncle's fatherin-law, Dr. Greenway. Then for a few months he had as a tutor a young Irishman who happened to be passing some time in Virginia, and then he cam.e under the care of a Quaker who lived at Petersburg, Mr. James Hargrave, who had a small boarding-school where a few sons of the neighboring gentlefolk lived together and pursued their studies — studies, however, for the most part dealing only with the classics and literature. Greek and Latin, a smattering of history, and a running acquaintance with English literature were all that were considered necessary for a gentleman's son to learn at school. Scott showed a decided taste for books and reading, and he had a quick and inquiring mind and natural aptitude. Before he had been a month at school he led his class and was the Quaker's favorite pupil.

One day, as Mr. Hargrave was returning from a visit to the Friends' meeting-house, of which he was a prominent member, and as he was approaching the schoolbuilding, he heard the sound of a great uproar. Entering, he came upon an interesting scene.

From a storeroom that opened off the study there came cries half of anger and 2 5 half of laughter. Jammed up against the door was a huge packing-box full of books that had been moved across the schoolroom and placed there to imprison some of the scholars who were doing their best to remove the obstruction and free themselves. Seated on one of the benches near by was young Scott, now a -boy of thirteen, but so grown and strong that he looked to be at least three years older. Two or three other young gentlemen were endeavoring to assist their imprisoned comrades to remove the packing-box, but their efforts were in vain. Mr. Hargrave was a Quaker, and therefore slow to anger, but he also was a strict disciplinarian, and this was the hour at which these young gentlemen should have been engaged in study. He quickly strode across the room, and calling upon the boys to desist from their uproar, he took hold of one of the handles of the box. But one tug was enough to show him he could not move it unaided.

" Who brought this box here?" he asked.

** I did," replied young Scott, swinging himself down to the floor.

"And who helped you?" asked the schoolmaster.

" No one," replied the boy.

" Now, friend Winfield," returned Mr. Hargrave, doubting indeed that the young boy could have performed the feat unaided, " if that is so, I will ask you to replace it."

Winfield took hold of the rope handle and straightened his strong young back. As he began to lift, his face grew red, and the schoolmaster, fearing he would strain himself, called upon him to stop. Winfield did so, obeying, however, with a gesture of remonstrance.

" I will get one of the men from the yard to help me," said Mr. Hargrave; "and I wish to assure you that your energy has been entirely misplaced."

*' So has the box been, sir," retorted the boy ; " and as it was my energy that is responsible, I think I should return it to its former position. May I try again, sir ? "

As Mr. Hargrave did not reply, Winfield once more took hold of the handle, and by sheer strength of back and arm, he lifted the end of the heavy box, and backing away with it, dragged it across the schoolroom to its former position. Mr. Hargrave was astonished ; that a lad of young Scott's age should possess such strength was most astonishing, and the schoolmaster congratulated himself that he was one who believed in peaceful suasion rather than any system of education that employed corporal punishment as one of its methods of instilling knowledge and discipline.

During the next three or four years young Scott developed in more ways than one. Under the direction of the kindly Quaker, who, besides being a schoolmaster, was the county surveyor, he learned many things, but first and foremost, to control a tendency to quickness of temper that, added to his immense physical strength, might have got him into difficulties more than once. At the age of seventeen he stood six feet two, and although at this time not completely filled out, having outgrown much of his strength, he was still quick and agile. When he was sixteen he left Mr. Hargrave's school and went to study in Richmond with a Mr. James Ogilvie, a Scotchman of very brilliant attainments, who prepared young men for college, and had methods of his own that were generally successful.

Mr. James Ogilvie was the scion of a noble Scotch family, and while possessing, as we have said, great brilliancy, was also erratic at times to the verge of madness. He also had histrionic ability of no mean order, and would recite at great length speeches written by himself, formed on the model of Cicero's orations, dressing himself in what he conceived to be an imitation of the great Roman — toga and sandals and parchment roll. Perhaps the fact that he was an opium-eater had something to do with his eccentricity, for shortly after his favorite pupil, Scott, passed his examinations, in 1805, to William and Mary College, Mr. Ogilvie gave up teaching to take up the career of an itinerant lecturer, which he gave up again to return to Scotland as a claimant for a peerage.

Before Scott had entered college, however, there came to him the chance to return in a measure some of the kindness he had received from his former teacher, Mr. Hargrave. The opportunity presented itself in this manner : He was on a visit to Petersburg in his seventeenth year, just after he had left Mr. Hargrave's school, and was walking down the street of the village, when he heard a loud, angry voice and another in milder tones of remonstrance, coming from about the corner of one of the smaller streets. He reached the corner just in time to see a tall man aim a vicious blow that felled a smaller man to the ground. Instantly young Scott recognized in the aggressor a young farmer who had a great local reputation as both a brawler and bully, and whose strength was renowned for many miles in the country.

He landed a blow that lifted the bully fairly off his feet.

The man whom he had struck was none other than James Hargrave !

Instantly Scott sprang forward. Before the big fellow had time to do more than turn to meet him, he had landed a blow under his eye that lifted the bully fairly oif his feet and stretched him on the very spot where Mr. Hargrave had fallen a moment before. The big man struggled to his feet and made a half-drunken rush upon his young assailant. Scott prepared to meet the onslaught, and was gathering himself, when the Quaker rushed in between the two, and instead of helping his new champion, grasped him by the waist.

** Desist, desist, friend Winfield. I am a man of peace," he shouted. While he was being thus held it was with difficulty that Scott could ward off the rain of blows that the bully aimed at him. Some of them fell upon the peacemaker, and it would have gone hard with both of them had not the boy by a violent effort pushed the schoolmaster to one side, and at last, finding him-

II The Giant Of Three Avars

self unencumbered, mot his antagonist again with a straight, full arm blow upon the chin, that again stretched him on the ground. By this timo the Quaker's lamentations

and remonstrances and his cries for peace had attracted some of the neighbors, and a crowd quickly gathered. The bullv. partly dazed, wished to continue the fight, and Scott, although it was his first encounter of the kind. was nothing loath. But the temper of the little mob had now been aroused ; when thev found that the young farmer had accused !Mr. Hargraye, whose reputation for honesty was beyond reproach, of running a dishonest line, and that he had attacked the Quaker without proyocation. they would haye taken the matter out of Scott's hands entirely, for the bully was both feared and hated. But again the Quaker was all for peace, and he implored his former pupil to aid him. and rather reluetamly Scott did so. By their combined ctTorts they sayed the big man— now reduced to a trembling and fully frightened coward — from further punishment. Together they escorted him down the street and some distance out on the turnpike toward his home.

In writing of this incident afterward, Winfield Scott speaks of his surprise at the strength of his own arm. But in the next few years he had still further increased in height and breadth and weight, until he was without doubt the biggest and perhaps the strongest man in his part of the State of Virginia, standing six feet five inches, and weighing in the neighborhood of two hundred and thirty pounds.

A great sorrow came to him about this time, just before his eighteenth birthday, in the death of his mother. His tribute to her memory is one that touches every heart. Fie wrote of her : " My mother, that noble woman to whom I owe all."

When nineteen Scott left college and went into the law office of David Robinson, Esq., in Petersburg. Mr. Robinson had been brought over from Scotland by the young man's grandfather some years before, as a tutor, but by the time Scott had entered his oftice he had won for himself an honorable position at the bar of his adopted State.

For some time Scott remained a student in the law offices of Mr. Robinson. With him were two men who were destined to make their mark as lawyers and judges. Mr. Thomas RutTm and John F. May. In those days lawyers and judges followed what they called the circuit, courts being held in different towns and counties ; the members of the bar were forced to ride on horseback sometimes manv miles to attend cases and to follow up the interest of their clienrs. On his return from his first circuitriding. Scott, like manv others, hastened to Richmond to witness the most important trial that had ever taken place up to that time in the historv of the nation. It was no less than the trial for high treason of Aaron Burr, who in 1S04 had killed, or. perhaps better, murdered, Alexander Hamilton in the famous duel in Weehawken. There is neither time nor space here to enter into a description of the trial nor to give a reason for its taking place. Burr, one of the ablest men in America, but one of the most unscrupulous and ambitious, had been accused of treason in endeavoring to raise an armed force for the conquest of what is now Texas, then part of Mexico. It was the intention of the conspirators to place Burr at the head of the new Government, and the plot was nipped in the bud by the action of the Federal authorities. Burr, rendered very unpopular by the fact that he had killed a man who was in a measure the country's idol, had at first apparently little hope of escape, but so ably was he defended that he was acquitted — an acquittal that increased in a measure the bitter feelings that had been aroused against him and his followers. And upon this feeling and the fact that he had attended the trial hangs one of the most interesting episodes in our hero's history.

Gathered at Richmond at this time were all the able lawyers and prominent legal men of the day, and here it was that the gigantic young Virginian met for the first time many men whose influence and friendship were to help him in the future. The preliminaries to the trial dragged through several weary weeks, and at the verdict the country was considerably disturbed, but quickly it quieted down, and after his exciting sojourn in Richmond, young Scott returned to Petersburg and took up again the even manner of his life. But although the law had much attraction for him, he was not altogether satisfied, and soon an event was to happen that was to divert his mind into other channels and to turn his ability into other directions.

With this change of thought and ambition, his real career may be said to have begun. Very often mere accidents will prove to men who have before been doubting themselves that their doubts were quite correct, and opportunities, coming suddenly, have developed powers and faculties that they themselves had never been as-

i6 sured were in their full possession. So it was with Scott, and to tell of how he found himself and came to his own will make a chapter that will be the proper beginning of the story of his life.

Chapter II

Early in the month of June, 1807, there occurred an incident that stirred the inhabitants of the United States to feelings of the deepest indignation. For a long time there had been loud complaints- and bitter denunciations of the English on account of their self-assumed "right of search" and the •* impressment " of so many American seamen into the royal service. The bitter feeling engendered by the War of the Revolution had not yet died away, and there were to be found many who prophesied that sooner or later the burning question of the freedom of the seas would be decided at the cannon's mouth. So, when the news came to the people's ears that the United States frigate Chesapeake had been stopped and fired into, while unwarned and unprepared, by the British frigate Leopard, and that three American citizens had been taken by force from her on the ground that they were British deserters, there was a great stir and the country was fired with indignation.

On July 2d President Jefferson issued an Act of Embargo directed against British vessels of war, interdicting them from any use of American harbors or inland waters, and in order to enforce the act and to prevent the British from obtaining supplies, fresh provisions, or water, volunteers were called for, and hastily constructed troops of cavalry and regiments of infantry gathered along the seacoast.

Young Winfield Scott was poring over some law papers in Mr. Robinson's office when the news was brought to him that volunteers were needed. In many long talks with his comrades. May and Ruffin, Scott had held that the only way to enforce respect for the rights of American seamen abroad was to fight for them, and now it seemed to him that the moment had come, and that the insult to the American flag should be avenged at once. It was very late in the evening and almost dark when the news came. Scott knew that twenty-five miles away a rendezvous of the Petersburg troop of cavalry, which some weeks before had tendered its services in case of need, had been appointed. He knew also that a trooper of this same body of horse, a master joiner and a man of very tall stature and heavy build, lay ill at his home, and therefore was unable to attend the summons. He remembered also that the day before he had been informed that a Mr. Farrington, a farmer who lived not far from the outskirts of the town, had a remarkably strong and heavy riding horse for sale. Within an hour he had visited the trooper's house, borrowed the uniform that with some difficulty he managed to squeeze into, and had arranged with the farmer for the purchase of his horse, and in two hours he was riding through the darkness over the rough road to join the Petersburg cavalry as a volunteer.

The next morning he reported and was accepted for duty, and despite the fact that he had not slept during the night and had been in the saddle for some hours, having walked his horse the entire distance in order to arrive with him fresh, he started with the troop to the eastward. In the course of time they arrived at their camp that was in a grove of trees about two miles from Lynn Haven Bay.

At anchor about a mile from shore lay the British squadron under Sir Thomas Hardy, the brave commander in whose arms the great Nelson had expired. Every evening guards were posted by the Americans at the entrances to the little creeks and along the sandy shore, and a strict watch was kept in order to prevent the landing of any boat parties from the vessels that lay sullenly swinging at their anchors out in the tide-rip.

No orders had been given to fire upon any approaching boat, and as no war had

3 21 been declared, the posting of the coast-guards was looked upon as merely an act of warning or precaution. Scott had been promoted to the position of lance-corporal — that is, a corporal for the nonce — and was in charge of a small picket near the mouth of one of the creeks.

He was lying asleep in his blanket one evening, when suddenly he was awakened by a touch on the shoulder. Looking up, he saw that it was one of his old school friends, the son of a wealthy planter, for nearly a third of the Petersburg troop of cavalry were gentlemen of wealth and position, who owned their own horses, and in many cases had brought their own body-servants with them to the front.

" Wake up, Scott," whispered the young man ; "there's a boat rowing up the river; you can hear the oars plainly from the beach."

Hurriedly throwing off his blanket, Scott rushed to the water's edge. There plainly enough he could hear the rhythmic thrum of the oars, and, although it was so dark out on the black waters that he could distinguish nothing, it was evident that the boat was headed up-stream.

" We had better hail them and threaten to fire," suggested Scott's young friend breathlessly ; " they will soon be beyond the point."

Scott checked him.

" No, no," he said ; " the tide is running out, it will soon be daylight, and if they get beyond the point and above the mud-fiats they will not be able to return. We may then be able to capture them without difficulty, and who knows but that great things may come of it. Let them go on."

Hurrying up the bank, Scott was just in time to prevent one of the sentries from hailing the boat out in the darkness. In fact, the man had been on the point of letting go his musket when Scott stopped him. Every one of the picket was now on the alert and gathered on the shore. The sound of rowing grew fainter and fainter as the boat went up the little river. It was low tide just about daybreak, and things happened exactly as the young corporal had predicted. Daylight showed the English boat's crew of six men endeavoring to force their cutter through the mud, encouraged by the orders and execrations of two young midshipmen in the stern-sheets. Some of the men were already overboard, pushing on the gunwales, while the others were using their oars as punting poles. But it was to no purpose ; they could not move an inch. At a hail from shore they all scrambled back into the boat and sat there disconsolately, for they were unarmed. A dozen young troopers, removing their boots and breeches, waded out into the black mud, and, with the sailors' assistance, turned the boat's prow toward the shore, and soon had her high and dry among the sedges.

The two little midshipmen were escorted to where Scott stood on the higher bank. The elder approached and saluted gravely the gigantic figure that towered above him. But he checked himself before he had quite fin- 24 ished his salute, for he noticed that Scott wore the uniform of a common trooper.

"Where is there an officer?" inquired the midshipman. " My name is Fox, of his Britannic Majesty's frigate Pallas, and this is Mr. Wilburough of the Leopard. We demand to see an officer."

" My name is Scott," replied the young corporal genially, "and I belong to the Petersburg troop of volunteer cavalry." He extended his hand. " There is no officer present, and it happens that I am in command here," he added.

The midshipman at first drew himself up haughtily and pretended not to recognize Scott's extended hand. Then with some embarrassment he took it, for he felt that there was something rather different from the usual run of troopers in this tall young giant in a private's uniform.

"What are you going to do with us?" he asked. " You can not detain us. We are not prisoners of war."

" I trust, my dear sir," returned Scott, 25 still smiling, ** that you will allow me to be your host for a little while — until my superiors are communicated with. It will be much better than sitting out in the broiling sun in a boat, for the tide will not be in for some hours, and you could not possibly regain your ship. The main camp is but a mile from here, and we will be about in time for breakfast."

" I would like to see your superior officer at once," returned the midshipman, still with an assumption of dignity.

" It will be very easily arranged," returned Scott. "The major is a great friend of mine, and I am sure that he will be delighted to meet you."

The midshipmen did not understand this state of democracy that existed among the members of such a corps of volunteers. It generally takes some time for this state of affairs to wear away. Captains who have been entertained at the country houses of their troopers can not instantly forget the fact in the differences of military rank, and when 26 the corporal had reported what had occurred to his superior officer, the latter's reply was somewhat peculiar. To tell the truth, the major was rather perturbed.

" Look here, Scott," he said, " I don't know what to do about this matter, and I wish you had not gone into it at all. I don't care to assume the responsibility, and certainly you were not acting under my orders."

" True enough," Scott replied ; " it was all my own idea, and if there is any blame it should come on me. I will assume the responsibility, and I suggest that you allow me to keep these two young middies as my guests until we receive orders from headquarters at Washington. We will see that they are well taken care of, and that their crew is well fed and looked after."

" Do as you like," returned the major, whose military experience was, as can be imagined, of the slightest ; ** I wash my hands of the matter."

It was a very strange state of affairs, judging from their own standpoint, that the midshipmen found in the camp at Lynn Haven. Here they were entertained by ordinary troopers at a broad table that was placed under the trees in a beautiful sylvan grove. Delicacies of all kinds were abundant ; here were the best of wines, and here were colored servants to wait upon and serve them, while the conversation was such as might pass at any gentleman's board. Scott had his two guests placed on either side of him, and before many minutes their restraint had worn away ; in fact, it would have been strange if they had not felt at ease, for seated about them were young lawyers, doctors, and merchants, and men who afterward became prominent in many ways.