Introduction

Introduction

New York, greatest of American cities and second of all cities of the world in point of population and perhaps of wealth, paused for a week in September, 1909, nominally to honor two great memories, really to celebrate itself.

It may be that Henry Hudson, when he sailed the Half-Moon up the great North River to the head of navigation and then returned to the ocean in 1609, never set foot on the Island of Manhattan; but the settlement by the Dutch that followed was certainly the result of his voyage of discovery. His was, therefore, a good epoch-making name to honor. More directly was it meet to honor the name of Robert Fulton, whose conquest of the waters with the power of steam in 1807 was made from New York shipyards, and upon the mighty stream that Hudson was the first white man to navigate. That in the person of Fulton, Ireland had a share in the memories of these celebrated men—for he was the son of Irish immigrants—appealed powerfully, as it should, to the race pride of the Irish-born and Irish-descended of the City of New York. It insured their hearty coöperation in the plans for the Hudson-Fulton celebration. But to many the event suggested the question, what share the Irish race has had in the upbuilding of New York, and what stake it holds in its life and its prosperity today. Others better fitted must work out the details of the answer, of which here is presented something of a summary. At any rate, it covers matters well worthy of the research which naturally drifts to a society like ours. Before attempting to record the Irish share in New York’s Hudson-Fulton celebration, let us examine briefly Ireland’s share in New York itself.

Here came the bulk of the great successive waves of emigration from Ireland. How large the total of the children of Ireland, who cast their lot with this Republic, history does not tell us with any accuracy. They were here from the very beginning of the white man’s settlement on Manhattan Island. Before 1820, no governmental roster of immigrants was kept, but in the eighty years from 1821 to 1900, the United States census bureau counts up a total of 3,871,253 Irish immigrants, nearly 3,000,000 coming hither between 1851 and 1900. That this enormous inflow came from a country that at its highest tide-mark of population never numbered more than 8,000,000 souls is a fact at once astounding and appalling. Ireland literally cuts itself in two to supply the emigration to America. Besides this outflow to America, another stream ran to England, Australia and New Zealand, but to each in much smaller volume than crossed the Atlantic. At its highest flow it brought over nearly a million Irish souls in ten years, namely, between 1851 and 1860. Since then it has fallen away, but what this immigration has meant in the upbuilding of the country at large may be imagined from the deduction made by the United State census of 1900. It is therein stated that “Ireland contributed more than two-fifths of the immigration between 1821 and 1850; more than one-third from 1851 to 1860; nearly one-fifth from 1861 to 1870.” In the following decade the stream held about the same level. Between 1881 and 1890 it rose again by nearly fifty per cent. Thenceforward the drain upon Ireland was to lessen, and with a total of 390,179 between 1891 and 1900 it represented barely more than one-tenth of the total immigration for the ten years. Since 1900 it has steadily declined, mainly for the reason that Ireland is nearly drained of its emigration material, but also in some degree that better conditions are obtaining there. A backward glance shows that of the nearly twenty millions of immigrants from all lands up to 1900 one in every five came from Ireland.

For the eighty years back of 1820 the proportion of Irish immigrants was even larger—probably one in four. And it was not, as many of the descendants of the early Irish immigration have imagined, entirely of the better off and entirely from the north of Ireland. Doubtless the Presbyterians of the northern Irish counties predominated, and counted in their ranks men of the learned professions as well as artificers and merchants, but of the tens of thousands of pure Celts from the central, southern and western counties deported to the West Indies in the seventeenth century many thousands found their way to the settlements of what are now the southern states of the Union. Original researches among colonial records by a member of our society show that during the century and a half before the Revolution several thousand immigrants of Celtic stock came direct to the colonies from Ireland.

Of the Irish emigration before the Revolution and up to 1820, the presence in New York of numbers of Irish high in standing as well as stalwart in activity is easily proven. One of the leading merchants in 1655 bore the historic name of Hugh O’Neale. New York City received its first charter from the hands of Sir Thomas Dougan, an Irishman, in 1684. Many old Irish names appear in the census of the City of New York for 1703. New York’s first mayor after the Revolution, James Duane, was the son of a Galway man. The first governor of the State of New York, and afterwards vice-president of the United States, George Clinton, was also an Irishman’s son. His kinsman, DeWitt Clinton, was a mayor of New York, United States senator and governor of the State, and is known to history as “the father of the Erie Canal.” Christopher Colles, from County Cork, Ireland, was the originator of our system of rail and waterways. His grave is in St. Paul’s. Thomas Addis Emmet, a resident of New York, was attorney general of the State. Daniel O’Brien established the first ferry to Perth Amboy. Dominick Lynch first introduced Italian opera to our city. He was also the founder of the Town of Rome, N. Y.

Resounding names of men of Irish blood are, indeed, plentiful, but they are only in this paper to be taken as symptomatic of the Irish-born and descended population, gradually growing in the city to a commanding influence. Peter McCartee was an alderman in 1815, and John McManus marshal of police in the same year. Irish names grew to prominence not only in the police and fire departments, but in the ranks of the teachers in the public schools. Of this eminence in three branches of the public service perhaps the greatest stress should be laid on the last. As school teachers, women and men, the Irish and Irish-descended have held the front place, in brains as well as numbers, for a hundred years in New York, holding it still, from William H. Maxwell, the great superintendent of the past twenty years, down to the latest teachers in the primary grades.

As early as 1833 it was computed that there were 44,000 of Irish birth or descent in New York City, which at that time meant Manhattan Island only. But the days were at hand when the combination of famine with brutal oppression was about to result in the casting forth from Ireland literally of millions of our people. That America should receive the greatest share was inevitable, and that New York should receive, if only for a temporary stay, the majority of these was natural. From 1846 to 1860 fully a million and a half of the famine-driven children of Ireland were poured upon the shores of America. And they came, for the very largest part, poorly clad, unlettered, uncouth, often weakened sorely in body by prolonged semi-starvation. Thousands—men, women and children—died of ship fever, of sea-sickness in debilitated frames, of inability to digest the wretched food supplied them on the long passage in the overcrowded sailing ships of the day. How many died of heartbreak alone, God only knows. But the survivors! In their bodies, at least, they soon vindicated the indestructibility of the Celt. Unskilled, except in a very small fraction, they took up the hardest kind of labor. They built the railroads, the canals; they “carried cities upon their backs.” It was a terrible story, working slowly to a happier consummation. They brought an instinctive loyalty to American institutions. Bitter were the prejudices they had to face, but they managed to outlive them all.

Naturally, in such case, they clung together. New York already had given the Irish exiles a home. Here their real qualities had had time to assert themselves, and here, accordingly, the newcomers of the later forties and early fifties settled freely. In politics they became Democrats, simply because Democracy never joined in their proscription as emigrants unfit to be Americans, while other parties did in lesser or greater degree. In religion they remained Catholic or Protestant as they came, and that meant largely Catholic.

This large substratum of newcomers from Ireland found here, as has been intimated, a large and fairly prospering Irish-born and Irish-descended population—furnishing men of eminence to all the higher callings—judges, lawyers, clergymen, physicians, merchants and manufacturers. With an assimilation more rapid than with any other race, the famine-exiles took up the order of American life. Their children filled the public schools and found Irish teachers there. They attended and supported churches whose hierarchy from archbishop to priest was almost wholly Irish. Thus the Celtic complexion of the city was enhanced, and it is no doubt true that at the outbreak of the Civil War, the population of New York (Manhattan) was nearer to one-third than one-fourth of Irish blood.

It is not the purpose to pursue here the history of the Irish in New York City from the outbreak of the Civil War through the half century to our day. To the battle for the Union, however, the New York Irish furnished magnificent quotas of fighting men, and capable officers, earning names for bravery and skill, as would be expected of their race. Indeed, it was the whole-souled devotion of the Irish all over the northern states and their brilliant services in the field and on the sea that threw down the last barriers of prejudice against their people in America. Such a name as Phil Sheridan’s was one to charm with, not to name another of the galaxy of great Irish captains of the war.

The Irish immigrant stream was, however, still flowing. From 1861 to 1900 they numbered over 2,000,000 souls, but this later flood came in somewhat better estate than their forerunners—fairly equalling in condition the concurrent German immigration and easily surpassing all others. It is for the most part, naturally, of these comers since 1860, that our Irish-born of today are composed, and through the entire country they can be found in substantial positions. But it is of their children and the children and grandchildren of the earlier immigration that the wonder-story of worldly uprise is to be told. New York, of course, has its share, and a large one, in this. If we can pick out from the later decades of the nineteenth century such names as James T. Brady and Charles O’Conor at the bar, A. T. Stewart among the merchants, Eugene Kelly among the bankers, William H. Grace, the great pioneer merchant of South America and twice our mayor; Archbishop Hughes, Cardinal McCloskey among the clerics, John W. Mackay among the great capitalists, Augustus St. Gaudens among the sculptors, O’Callaghan, Murphy and O’Reilly among the historians, how many names of eminence in every walk of art, science, law, religion, commerce, manufacture can be furnished from the Irish-born and Irish-descended of today! There are the great builders like John B. McDonald, who constructed the subway; James Coleman, who built the great Croton dam; but why enter on a list as long as that of the ships in Homer? Be it Thomas Fortune Ryan or John D. Crimmins in the world of finance, the representatives of Irish brain are there. It is of record that the second president of the New York Chamber of Commerce, which was founded in 1768, was Hugh Wallace, an Irishman. It is worthy of remark that Alexander E. Orr, also a native of Ireland, was president of the same body, until a year ago, and that his successor is J. Edward Simmons, also of Irish blood, who in his time has been lawyer, bank president, President of the Stock Exchange, President of the Board of Education and President of the New York Clearing House.

It is, however, to the collective work of the Irish of New York one had better turn. From the United States census of 1900 it is deduced that the natives of Ireland in Greater New York numbered 285,000, while the children of Irish parents numbered 308,000, and the descendants of Irish in the third and fourth generations numbered 200,000, or a total of 793,000 of Irish blood in a total for the city of 3,437,000—a proportion little less than one in four. With the increase of the city’s population since 1900 it is not quite likely that the Irish stock has kept pace, and a diminishing ratio in point of numbers may be expected. The inflow from southeastern Europe, from Poland, Russia and Italy has greatly (and happily) exceeded the stream from Ireland. Yet here in New York will be found, when the census of this year is taken, an Ireland of not far from a million, in its expected total approaching 5,000,000 souls.

Not all of that million remembers Old Ireland as Motherland, but it must be the task of societies like ours to awaken the sleeping memories.

There is no way of arriving directly at the proportion of the city’s wealth which is the possession of the Irish million. It would, doubtless, prove a mighty total, for Irish thrift and Irish talent for accumulation have been proven here to be as existent and constant as the carefully nurtured legend to the contrary. If there was some uproarious spending among the earlier arrivals on their first contact with earned American gold, and if they rose slowly, at first, from the poor estate in which they came, yet the families they raised in decency, the imposing array of churches and schools they paid for the building of, and still sustain, are first hand proofs that they are sound and normal in the greater civic virtues. The Catholic churches in Greater New York, from the great cathedral of St. Patrick and the splendid St. Francis Xavier of the Jesuits to the smallest suburban chapel, number 257 edifices, and it is safe to say that ninety-eight per cent. of the funds for rearing them and keeping them have come from the Irish immigrants and their children, not in great gifts, not often in large individual subscriptions, but dollar by dollar and dime by dime from the building of St. Peter’s in Vesey Street a hundred years ago down to the present day. The Catholic parochial schools—the creation, one may say, of the past quarter century—most of them imposingly housed, number 154, instructing 120,000 pupils and almost all at the cost of Irish Catholic contributions. It is not proper here to discuss the church policy, which puts this charge upon its faithful over and above the share they pay in common with other citizens to the public school fund but it may here be noted that the parochial schools are a significant monument to Irish generosity and the deeper devotion which puts the moral and religious above the mere utilitarian. The public school pupils number over 600,000, but the seating capacity of the schools has never filled the wonderfully growing demand. The alternative of half-day classes in the most congested neighborhoods has even failed to take in all the children seeking instruction. The public schools attract a large proportion of the Irish-descended children of the great city, and, as has been noted, the number of Irish-descended teachers is very high in comparison with those from other nationalities. Here, however, side by side with the great educational work of the municipality, is a school system instructing one-fifth as many children in the name of religious ideality and entirely supported by the resident members of the Catholic faith. In addition to these are thirty-seven colleges and academies of higher learning and two religious seminaries educating for the priesthood. The 450 edifices, thus scantily summarized, represent a total valuation, according to the best authorities, of not less than $40,000,000, and possibly, with work in progress, approach the great total of $50,000,000. This is a very noble portion of Ireland’s monument in New York.

Great as these sums may be, they give but a sorry measure of the value of the churches to the Irish themselves, furnishing as they have done a moral anchorage beyond the power of words to describe. Most necessary were they to a people taken rudely from their homes and sent naked and adrift in a new and strange world, where the battle was no longer the mere struggle for existence but a conflict for power and wealth, in which the sharpest wits, acting through the loosest morals, were often the victors. Well may the New York Irish view this array of churches, schools and colleges with some glow of pride—and gratitude.

It is not that the Protestant Irish of New York were wanting in their share of church building. They more rapidly merged in the American branches of their respective sects, but it is well to remember that an “Irish Presbyterian Church” existed on Orange Street in New York in 1811, as well as an “Erin Lodge of Freemasons,” and that Irish Protestant clerics like the late Dr. John Hall have in goodly numbers filled the most important pulpits in New York and Brooklyn for over a century and a half. The famous John Street Methodist Church was founded by Irishmen. It is probable that in the greater city there are 200,000 persons of Protestant faith, who are either native Irish or in whole or in part of Irish descent.

In such an establishment as St. Vincent’s hospital, in the New York Foundling Asylum, the Roman Catholic Orphan Asylum, the Catholic Protectory, the House of the Good Shepherd are other highly valuable proofs of organizing genius and generous sustaining power on the part of the Irish of New York.

Among the long-established and wisely administered savings banks of the city, none has a prouder record or a firmer base than the Emigrant Industrial Savings Bank, which has been distinctly, almost wholly, Irish in its administration and until lately in its depositors. In the last few years it has attracted great numbers of Italians, scared out of their first implicit faith in the many irresponsible “banks” set up by their countrymen. With its deposits over $98,000,000, an army of depositors numbering over 122,000, and an unbroken history of successful management of sixty years (it was incorporated in 1850) the Emigrant Bank is surely a magnificent exhibit of Irish trust and Irish efficiency. Its president, Thomas Mulry, was, up to the first of the year, Commissioner of Charity for New York. In that office he was succeeded by Michael J. Drummond, one of the Emigrant Bank’s trustees. Like Mr. Mulry, Mr. Drummond is Irish-born, and is a former president of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick in the City of New York.

The individual thrift of the Irish has, indeed, been notable. Their favorite investments have been in real estate and these, in thousands of instances, have proved the foundation of the Irish fortunes of today.

The Catholic Club has taken a notable place among the best institutions of the kind in the city; its membership is largely Irish stock.

In the public offices, the police and fire departments, the number of Irish-descended is very large. An idea is abroad that this is wholly in consequence of the adherence of the Irish population to the fortunes of the political organization known as Tammany Hall, but it is only a half-truth. Tammany Hall, during a great part of its history, has been the “regular” Democracy, and that was enough for many who had grown up with it, but the forces of revolt from within the Democratic party have frequently overthrown Tammany, and it was generally Irish names that then came to the front. The late Mayor William H. Grace is an instance. In the recent election Tammany met a pretty general defeat, but its Irish-descended nominee for mayor, William H. Gaynor, was elected, and foremost among those of the victorious opposition, who will share the great city’s government with him, are William A. Prendergast, son of Irish parents, as Comptroller; George McAneny as president of the Borough of Manhattan, and John Purroy Mitchel, grandson of John Mitchel, the famous Irish patriot of 1848, as President of the aldermen. In the civil service examinations the Irish hold their own and more, so that whatever political party may be in power the racial ratio in New York’s public offices is not likely to change for many years to come, where merit and moral and physical fitness are at all the test of appointment.

It would be easy to point to great individual instances of successful Irishmen in the wholesale and the greater retail business of the city, but enough has been said here to show how strong is the hold of the Irish here and how great their stake in the fortune and wealth of the city. Nevertheless, one may well be surprised to note how little that is distinctly Irish, as apart from Catholic or Protestant, Democrat or Republican (to mention a couple of lines of emotional and rational cleavage), meets the eye in the city’s edifices or public monuments. In the churchyard of St. Paul’s Protestant Episcopal Church are three notable monuments—a monolith to the memory of Thomas Addis Emmet, another to the memory of Dr. William James MacNevin, and a monument in the wall of the church itself over General Montgomery of Revolutionary fame. In Trinity churchyard is the tomb of Robert Fulton. In Central Park there is a bust of Thomas Moore, the Irish poet. The list ends somewhere there—pretty meagrely.

There are and have been many Irish societies, patriotic, social, benevolent, literary and musical, but although the existence of one runs back over a century and a quarter and has always included in its ranks the most flourishing of Ireland’s sons, without any regard to politics or religion, it has never owned a home of its own. Like the others, it is housed from occasion to occasion wherever the choice of its officers may lead it, yet it has long owned a considerable building fund. Another body, large in numbers, is understood to own a building site, but there the matter rests. This, to the lover of Ireland, is not an encouraging condition. One would expect to see a number of splendid edifices devoted to Irish social, scientific and artistic objects. One would expect to see fine monuments in public places to the great men of Irish-American history—such even as those late-comers, the Italians, have erected to their countrymen, to wit: the fine Columbus pillar, the Garibaldi, the Verdi and the Verazzano monuments.

Should there not be a trumpet note of change sounded over these glaring deficiencies? Should not there be at least one great Celtic Institute founded with a large and imposing auditorium for Irish gatherings, and with suites of rooms and smaller assembly halls for such organizations as the American-Irish Historical Society’s New York Chapter, for the Gaelic, the literary, the artistic, musical, benevolent and social Irish organizations of the city not religious in character? It is easily within the reach of accomplishment. It but needs the effort of a few of the really rich and public-spirited men of Irish blood to give it the proper financial basis and provide thereafter for its economical management.

Among other things it would insure the much-neglected history of our race in New York a chance to be the object of real service, instead of as now, the hobby of comparatively few.

In another particular a deficiency is noted, which there is at present some effort making among the churches to supply, namely, a care for the social welfare, for the spread of uplifting, refining influences among the young men and women of the Irish race after they have finished their terms at school. Local Homes for the Irish young men and women informed in their directorates with intelligent, animating spirit, should flourish all over New York. The Y. M. C. A. has sufficiently blazed the way. It is a great and inviting work. Such life could be given to these Homes that their attraction would be irresistible. The good they would do, the results they would achieve for civic uplift and domestic and social refinement would well repay all they would cost in money and care.

To kindred objects the New York Irish have been continual givers rather than large donors in the American sense, but last year the gift of $4,500,000 by John M. Burke, of New York, for founding and endowing a Home for Convalescents indicates that the rich Celt is falling into the line of broad and bold American philanthropy. What more vital to the standing and the future of the race in New York can be thought of than a great Celtic Institute or the Neighborhood Homes as outlined above?

It is true that in the case of the Irish immigration of the past sixty years the material had to be taken as it came to these shores, and that not everything could be done with it, or for it, at once; but the situation is no longer the same. Looking over the external sources of future population for the whole United States, as well as for New York City, it becomes pretty evident that the Irish race will not furnish any but a diminishing quota; that the future of the Irish race in America depends almost entirely on the Irish already here. It is also true that the social condition of the Irish stock is bettering every day. Other European races, broadly speaking, are doing the laborers’ work of the country as well as the city. The Irish millionaire, the Irish captain of industry, the Irish leader in thought and education is largely represented here. We produce great laymen as well as great clerics, and it becomes daily more incumbent on the prosperous to turn with the open purse and the hand of uplift to the less favored by fortune, in order that they may make hereafter for the fame and condition of the race in America. That there is a tendency among the very well-to-do children and grandchildren of the Irish immigrants away from Irish association is largely true. It is so with German-descended in a degree, as to their racial fellows, but these latter did not have behind them the history of bitter, poverty-smitten struggles for a foothold here, which befel the bulk of the Irish immigration. The Germans came from a prosperous land, seeking greater prosperity. Even the poorest Italians, coming from a hungering country, bring with them the dower of a historic past, rich with the highest artistic embellishment and spiritual fulfilment. Back of the Irish immigration was an immediate past of hunger, oppression, intolerance and passionate, ineffectual revolt, and long vague memories of distant splendors that came to them, partly in legend and partly in the ruins of pillar-towers, castles, abbeys and half-obliterated carvings over graves. Out of these legends and these ruins and graves came to them the true whisperings of the race. The Celtic renaissance in Ireland itself grows because these whisperings are a little better heard. A like cultivation may follow here if the race is true to itself. It is within the memory of many like myself that to be Irish has taken on a substantial social consideration but grudgingly accorded thirty or forty years ago. So many have arrived at fortune, have done great public service, have attained social heights that it becomes a matter of social self-defense with them to see that no child of their race shall lack for the incentive and something of the opportunity to enter and carry on the battle of life under inspiring conditions.

In attempting to visualise the Irish share in New York itself, the preceding considerations appear to be as necessary as the mere record of mighty numbers and massed achievement, but enough has, perhaps, been said to show that, by and large, the Irish here have survived their greatest trials, have largely developed the civic virtues and reached a plane of prosperity inferior to no race on the continent. They are one-fourth of New York’s population, and probably hold almost an equally high fraction of its personal wealth, bating, of course, that enormous increment which comes to the metropolis from its commanding position as the continental centre of investment. May the Irish chapter of New York in the next fifty years be more inspiring still.

HOW THE CELEBRATION TOOK SHAPE.

It is worth while looking into the way the celebration shaped itself. Much was written about it as it occurred. In a general way its story is common property, and its great success is history. The centennial of Robert Fulton’s most notable achievement—the first voyage of his steamboat up the Hudson—fell in the year 1907. It did not pass without notice at the time, but the proposal to make it the central point of a municipal festival at once brought to mind that in another two years (namely, in 1909) would occur the ter-centenary of Henry Hudson’s discovery and navigation of the great river. Here then, was a chance for a dual display. The recent date and comparative failure of the St. Louis Exposition, combined with New York’s distaste for the prolonged inattention to its real business involved in an international exposition, decided against the exposition idea. A commission, to be called after the two men whose memory the celebration was to honor, was formed by Act of the Legislature. It was given a large fund by the State. New York City followed with another large sum, and private local patriotism and civic pride followed with large subscriptions. The commission was well-founded and amply funded. At its head was placed the veteran soldier, lawyer, Congressman, diplomatist and man of affairs, General Stewart L. Woodford, whose courtly presence, gentle bearing, handsome face, white hair and beard gave a pictorial dignity to the office hard to find elsewhere. But the active leadership, the real working headship of this affair great in scope and multifariousness, fell upon Hermann Ridder, a New-York-born German-American of great executive skill, whose resolute uprise in the world of journalism and whose wide acquaintance with the city, social, racial, religious, industrial and financial, bespoke his fitness. To aid him were appointed many men of standing in the city, but while they came and went at his call, and attended this meeting and that, one and all they agreed that since the work had fallen on such competent shoulders there they would carefully allow it to remain. Mr. Ridder took up the burden and carried it, carried it through. He shirked nothing, he directed everything, he organized his staff of helpers, artistic and clerical, and kept them busy. He looked after the formation of the working committees who would work out the enormous detail which the naval, military, police, social, artistic and publicity problems involved. Then he let the committees work, and wisely dealt with results. So, he kept an even keel, if one might put it that way, amid the occasional storms that will arise in such cases. The city surely owes him something for his whole-hearted devotion and unwearying service that did not cost the city a cent, and insured the memorable success of a great festival worthy of the greatest city on the continent, all the sooner for his work, perhaps, to be the greatest city in the world.

The celebration, then, was arranged on a scale more elaborate than anything theretofore undertaken by an American municipality, and in this the Commission was seconded by the wonderful natural setting of the city, fronting the expanse of the harbor and with broad rivers on either side of the long tongue of land—Manhattan—that gently uplifts its serried lines of stately homes and massive buildings, from South to North. One of these rivers, the Hudson, a stream noble in itself and the scene of the great suggestive feats of Henry Hudson and Robert Fulton, invited special attention. It was, therefore, early decided that New York’s tribute to these two great men and grand memories should share its functions between land and water. Accordingly while a section of the Commission planned land decorations, parades, assemblies, illuminations and banquets to fill an entire week, the officers busied themselves first with the Federal government at Washington to invite the naval powers of the world to send warships wreathed in flowers, as it were, and asking for a mighty squadron of our own ocean thunderers to greet the armored Tritons from oversea. Then Holland, in whose service Henry Hudson sailed the blue waters, offered a gift of unique kind, namely a duplicate of the little ship, Half Moon, in which Hudson traversed the Atlantic and ascended the river that has rightly come to bear his name. It was not strange, then, that the Commission should resolve to build a replica of that other historic craft, the Clermont, in which Fulton first went up the same river under steam.

From these starting points it was not so difficult to outline the rest of the water programme. There should be a ceremony of receiving the two historic craft down the bay and conducting them in a mighty parade consisting of all the steam craft plying the nearby waters, ranged in a fair flotilla up Hudson’s River passing the long range of seven miles of warships and, after a ceremony of reception, returning in like order to their berths and piers. There should be on land and water a grand illumination by night with fireworks of the most spectacular kind. There should again be a beautiful water pageant when the Half Moon and the Clermont were escorted up the river that the towns and cities along its banks might partake of the glory of the time. They would let the procession of ships from New York end their pilgrimage at Newburg and there let another flotilla conduct the memorial ships to Albany where the river narrows and shoals. So was the unique water side of the celebration outlined. For the land side the preparations were on an equally grand scale, but here they were dealing with more familiar material. We had had festival parades of like kind before; now we were to have more of them than ever and each one to be more marvellous of its kind than anything before conceived. No less than three great processions were arranged—a grand civic procession illustrating in floats three centuries of New York’s history, and made up of the men of the forty races and nationalities of which our population is compounded; a military parade to display every branch of our army service, state and national, and in which details of sailors and marines from the foreign warships as well as our own, should paradoxically testify to international brotherly love by marching peacefully together armed to the teeth. Lastly was designed a Carnival parade—a night march, devoted to artistic symbols on illuminated floats and conducted by costumed thousands from the German, Austrian and Swiss societies of the City.

It was natural to call on the city to drape and decorate its buildings lavishly, to arrange for general illumination: to design a finely pillared Court of Honor on Fifth Avenue just below 42d St. and hang it with mazes of electric lights, to erect a grand reviewing stand facing the Avenue and with its back to the great Library Building just emerged from its scaffolding.

In such cases, many minor suggestions follow on the heels of the great ones, and the week of wonders threatened to extend indefinitely. A notable loan collection of paintings of the Dutch school was assembled for exhibition at the Museum of Art, a rare collection of Colonial furniture was also secured. Then came a reception with oratory at the Metropolitan Opera House, an Irish concert at Carnegie Hall, an opera house music festival, aquatic sports, an exhibition of flying machines and a beautiful open air fête for 40,000 school children in the parks.

In a retrospect for our particular purpose, it is as well to grasp in some such general way the chief features of the event. For the year in which it had been actually incubating New York heard little and did not care much about it, and wakened very gradually to the great festal proportions it was to take. In fact people were returning to New York from mountain and seaside after the heats of Summer before they clearly understood how much was afoot in the way of civic entertainment. New York’s self-consciousness differs from that of every other American city. There is, for instance, no feeling that its greatness needs proclamation. It is not worried about its growth: it has been always growing. It is imaginatively undisturbed about its future: it is too busy to trouble about its past. Perhaps it has never taken to any civic phrase more kindly than describing itself as “little old New York,” while it knows it is not little, and if it has any municipal thrill it is over its modernity. Here was something coming which might be thought of as an attempt to awaken “the Chicago feeling” in Gotham—that is a somewhat delirious sensation of the bumptious and divinely ordained, the throbbing of the inflamed nerve of Destiny. In a way of its own New York gave way to it. The city began to hum, and when the time came in September’s days of warm colors and genial airs the people were ready to cheer, to march, to sail in line, to celebrate.

ORGANIZATION OF THE IRISH PARTICIPATION.

It was during the months of the previous springtime that the Irish share in the celebration took shape, when Hermann Ridder met the representatives of the Irish societies, and stating briefly but clearly the general plan of the celebration, called for 10,000 Irishmen to take part in the Historical civic parade. And to this they agreed. In a compendious sketch he described the divisions of the procession and the historical floats that were to make part of each—the Indian period, the Dutch period, the Colonial period, the Revolutionary period, the Modern period. Over forty nationalities besides the native American were to be represented. To the Irish he conceded the right of the line. To them would be assigned certain historic floats. In the upbuilding of New York Mr. Ridder recognized that the immigrants from Europe had contributed the major share. In other words it had been fed with population mainly from oversea. Of the original Dutch stock but a trace remained: it had largely scattered or died out. The early English stock had similarly passed on. The influx from rural America or other American towns and cities had been constant and latterly was increasing. Still the immigrant and the children of the immigrant preponderated in the great city.

The American Irish Historical Society, through its New York chapter, took part in the earliest gatherings. The Friendly Sons of St. Patrick in the City of New York, the oldest Irish organization in the country with a history of 126 years behind it, was also early in the field. Its President, William Temple Emmet, was chosen chairman of the gathering of Irish societies and Alfred J. Talley of the American Irish Historical Society was elected Secretary. First and last some eighty Irish societies answered to the call. Broadly these were the Ancient Order of Hibernians, the Clan-na-Gael, the Irish American Athletic Club, the Irish Counties Athletic Clubs, the two societies named above and a number of Gaelic and Literary societies. There appeared at first to be no difficulty whatever about furnishing the quota called for: indeed there was some claim that less than 12,000 would be inadequate, judging from the muster rolls of all the societies desiring to participate. So there was some indignant protest when it was learned later that on account of the inordinate length of time it would take to get the procession past a given point on the basis first laid down, the Irish contingent would necessarily be cut down to 5,000 men. Eventually it was recognized that this was just as well. It developed curiously that the Irish in New York are not as numerously organized as they would seem. When they get the Society habit they are likely to belong to many societies, and this possibly multiplies by four their apparent number. Many of the delegates belonged to half a dozen of the societies represented. Naturally they could march with only one. The falling off from this cause was most noticeable with the Ancient Order of Hibernians—numerically the largest on its lodge rolls.

Committees of various kinds were appointed and to one—the Historical—fell the lot of securing the appropriate floats to escort in the procession. It was obvious that they should claim the Clermont float, for was not Robert Fulton the American-born son of an Irish father and Irish mother? It was equally obvious that they should claim the Erie Canal float with which the name of Governor De Witt Clinton, also of Irish descent and one-time Mayor of New York was inseparably connected. In some predacious way the Scotch societies had secured the Fulton Ferry float, claiming Fulton to be a Scottish name. It was seen by the Historical Committee that an omission of a grave kind had been made by the designers of the floats in not having one to celebrate the giving of the first charter to the City of New York by Governor Dongan—a charter always quoted with approval by the commentators on New York’s civic history. Now Dongan was a fine official of well-balanced mind, a learned man and an Irishman, and his appointment came from King James II, who did not object to him as Irish and gave him the place because he was a Catholic as well as otherwise qualified. The Commission agreed to rectify its omission and ordered a Dongan float. The Clermont, Erie Canal and Dongan floats were thereafter assigned to the Irish societies, to man and to escort.

Much amusing detail might be added to this but it can be indicated in the joyous way in which Martin Sheridan, the great athlete and champion hurler of the discus, was chosen to impersonate Robert Fulton and John Flanagan, the giant hammer-thrower of the Irish Athletic club, was named for the engineer. Thomas P. Tuite, whose admirable sketch of the life of Fulton is one of the memorable outcomes of the celebration, was enthusiastically impressed to act as steersman of the Erie Canal barge. With the Dongan float there was a difficulty. Major E. T. McCrystal, editor and soldier, was easily persuaded to stand for Governor Dongan, and it was not hard to get representatives for the New York councilmen who were to accept the charter, but when it came to getting impersonators for a file of British soldiers in red coats who were to stand as representatives of the British monarchy, there was indignation and revolt. Finally the British soldiers were cut out, and Dongan tendered his charter without any red-coated backing. The choosing of the ladies for the floats was wisely left to some ladies’ societies.

The best idea that came of the work of the Irish committees was that of a concert of Irish music. It was brought forward by Jeremiah Lawlor, of the Ancient Order of Hibernians, and ardently worked for by him. Once presented to the Hudson-Fulton Commission it was given a place on the official programme. Fortunately Victor Herbert, the distinguished operatic composer and orchestra leader, was at hand, and instantly accepted the concert committee’s invitation to take charge of the programme. It involved some sacrifice on his part but he gladly made it, and the success of the result must certainly have compensated him.

It was in the springtime, too, that another Irish feature of the celebration was arranged, the chartering of the splendid Sandy Hook steamer, Asbury Park, for the naval parade up the Hudson River. The American-Irish Historical Society and the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick coöperated in this—at a cost of $5,000 for the use of the steamer for that single day.

RECEPTION OF THE HALF MOON AND CLERMONT.

The last week in September is apt to be blessed with fine, mild weather in New York, and this time it held good. No more beautiful day could be wished than Saturday, September 25, 1909, when the banks of the Hudson River for ten miles from its mouth became the vantage ground for many more than a million sightseers, with the great stream itself a Broadway of the water over which the floating procession was to pass. Toward the City shore the long line of the gathered warships stretched adrape with gay bunting. Behind the water-front packed with human beings from the Battery Park to Grant’s tomb and beyond, rose the great mass of the city, its lifted turrets and spires and its soaring buildings forming a majestic background. Power spoke in every line and mass that met the eye, and beauty of a kind seldom seen gave its impress of delight. Down the harbor, the fleet of steamers was gathering in its hundreds, every craft from great Hudson River and Sound steamers and private yachts to squadron upon squadron of tugs. All were flag-draped and all were laden with joy-bound participants. The Brooklyn shore down to Fort Hamilton at the Narrows, and the heights and shore of Staten Island from Fort Wadsworth curving around the harbor were black with human beings. Hard by the Kill von Kull lay the Half Moon and the Clermont, the one a quaint, picturesque ghost of the great days of adventure of the early seventeenth century, the other in its long square ugliness a reminder that adventure with steam power in a new element was concerned with fitness and not with beauty; that Fulton was thinking of the turning of his ridiculous paddle wheels rather than the looks of things. And on the Dutch craft stood a make-believe Henry Hudson with a Dutch crew clad in the sea-dogs’ garments of his time. What a dim, pathetic figure that real Hudson of whom here was the twentieth century shadow. He must have been a man of grim purpose and of strong flesh and blood, but never did a man so near our time fade out into the mist more completely than he who first sent the prow of a white man’s ship up past the Palisades and the Highlands. On the Clermont was also a goodly company rigged out in the habiliments of 1807 that still bore something of the lines of the dandies of Paris in the time of the Directory. But it was a man of Robert Fulton’s blood who impersonated the creator of the first steamship that could truly navigate, and that meant that there was Irish blood in him.

It was when the procession in the course of the afternoon began to move with our long slim darting torpedo boats escorting the Half-Moon and the Clermont and all the other steam craft following that the true glory of the day began, and as the vessels swung into line heading northward every piston-beat of the engines, every turn of the churning screws and splashing paddles seemed to make a chorus of Fulton! Fulton! Fulton! and in a precious undertone to many a thousand of the onlookers it murmured Ireland! Ireland! Ireland! whence came the brain that had put a heart of giant power into every floating fortress, every giant of the transatlantic trade that the great flotilla passed as it swept up the river. As the little ship of Hudson and the ungainly master-boat of Fulton passed, the fleets of the world saluted them. So they passed up, acclaimed from the banks and the stream, the Half-Moon and the Clermont halting at the picturesque water gate on the Riverside slope for the reception ceremonies where the dignitaries waited from the Governor of New York state down.

THE ILLUMINATIONS ON WATER AND LAND.

For the rest of those afloat it was a sail nearly to Yonkers before the last of the United States battleships was passed, and the turning point reached. By this time the evening was falling rapidly in a glory of crimson sunset that made the river glow as paven with red gold, the Palisades rising black as ebony against the west, and the lingering rays falling in warm ivory and pale pink on the white house-line of New York on its hills farther down the stream. But as the light paled, and the shadows filled with purple and presently when a misty greyness was coming over all on land and water, another glory began which was to gladden and grow until it made a great picture that perhaps the world had never seen and certainly the world of Columbus and Hudson and Fulton had never witnessed before—the festal lighting on water and on land.

Lucky were those in that day procession up the river whose craft could linger in the upper reaches until all the glory of night was ablaze. The warships outlined in strings of electric lamps, the lights on the moving craft, the monuments on shore brilliantly set off with skeleton tracing of light, building after building on both sides of the river glowing with electric lights in every fantasy of device and color, the houses one and all lit up at every window, the tower of Madison Square one mighty shaft of light. Farther South the sky-piercing tower of the Singer building like a glowing mural crown dominated the vast field of the twenty-story office buildings, all illuminated to their roofs. In the harbor the Liberty Statue shone in an island of light. Up the East River a special glory was seen with its three great bridges spanning the stream in glittering cobwebs of light that hung between the water and the sky. All the buildings on the New York and Brooklyn shores swam in a shimmering golden haze. The avenues were long lines of diamonds strung from pillar to pillar, and then to the north a wonderful aurora of fan-spread search-lights, and from a dozen points over the island and the rivers spouted, great fountains of fireworks storming the heavens with jets of colored fire. It was fascinating, intoxicating, and the millions watched it in a daze from nightfall until midnight when at last the city and the river were left to the stars.

THE IRISH CONCERT.

On Sunday, September 26, New York was fain to rest from its long outing of Saturday. When, however, night had fallen there was no fatigue visible in the smiling faces that gathered for the Irish Concert in Carnegie Hall. In securing the hearty coöperation of Victor Herbert, the famous composer and orchestra leader, the committee had armed itself for a triumph. Mr. Herbert is Irish-born, and of true Irish stock, a grandson of Samuel Lover, the Irish novelist and ballad writer whose “Low-backed Car” and “Rory O’Moore” threaten to outlive most of the lyrics of his generation. In Germany he received his musical education which was thorough. As a student of harmony and counterpoint none surpassed him in avidity to master all that the best could impart. Learning successively to play well nigh every instrument in the orchestra, he became proficient on the violoncello, acting as solo violoncellist in the Royal Court orchestra at Stuttgart, and taking a high rank as a virtuoso. When he came to this country in 1886 it was to take the important post of solo violoncellist under Anton Seidl, the great Wagnerian conductor at the Metropolitan opera house. His German was so good that musical people around Fortieth street wondered “how well the Dutchman spoke English,” a curious reversal of Lever’s humorous conceit: “I knew by your French you were English, and I knew by your English you were Irish.” Herbert, however, was not long in the land of the free before his Irish heart made itself known to his fellow-Gaels, and ever since it has beat in unison with them. In music he heard a higher call than being a prominent figure among the instrumentalists of even so famous a Wagnerian as Anton Seidl. When Patrick Sarsfield Gilmore, of loving musical memory, passed away, it was Victor Herbert who was called to succeed him as bandmaster of the 22d regiment, and thereafter waved the magical baton of Gilmore’s wonderful band. To this he added the duties of Kappellmeister to Anton Seidl’s orchestra and to the famous organization of Theodore Thomas. In 1898 he obeyed a call to Pittsburg to head a great orchestra, and remained there six years, his power and talent developing all the while. Returning to New York he recruited an orchestra of his own which soon won popular and critical esteem. But his forte lay in musical composition. The immediate road to success and fortune was, to his mind, by the way of comic opera, and work after work of this nature came sparkling from his brain to the joy of multitudes and to his own rapid enrichment. Still he led his now famous orchestra all over the land, working day and night, for he loved his work. The ambition to do greater things, however, never left him, and passing from mere facile outpouring of the riches of his inspiration he turned to the higher work in the realm of music. His oratorio, “The Captive,” a fine work, first heard at the Worcester (Mass.) musical festival was highly praised. Many of his serious fugitive pieces became popular with musicians and the world of music awaits with pleasant anticipation the grand opera into which he has for some time been putting his soul. He has for years been a member of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick, always prompt to make the musical features of its gatherings notable, and always lending freely of his geniality to its symposiums of good fellowship.

Bear with me for this straying into the paths of biography, for Victor Herbert’s personality, his training, and his Irish birthright should be known to every son of Ireland in America, not merely as a matter of race pride but of race inspiration. We pride ourselves on our love of music. The echoes of the olden Celtic harps must be in our souls, but we have done little enough as a people to deserve the exquisite heritage. Our innate love of the art should be broadly cultivated and steadily developed, and in Victor Herbert I see a man who may yet do something great in this way for his race and ours, as he is sure to do in lofty composition for his own enduring fame. That is why I have dwelt on his striking career. In securing his hearty interest in the Irish Concert success was assured, for it brought with it the services of the magnificent orchestra trained for years under the sway of his relentless baton.

We do not lack for solo artists of merit and skill, but in choral music we have not done all we could. In Ireland a modern school of composers is doing work of which we know little here. The mending of this should be a first step in the Irish musical renaissance. If we find poets to write the books and lyrics, and musicians to compose the vibrant measures to fit them, we must have singers to interpret them and instrumentalists to give them the breadth and depth of the full artistic inspiration. Let the little band of sixty or seventy (little as choral renderings go in these days) who came together from the Catholic Oratorio Society for the Irish Concert be the melodious forerunners of Irish choral societies that may gather thousands at a time in one burst of song. At the Irish Concert the chorus sang admirably. May every member thereof be blessed for her or his participation, and their example give heart to a new musical impulse among our people.

The great house was filled to its capacity with a representative Irish gathering and presented a fine picture of comely women and handsome men. The Hudson-Fulton Celebration Commission had given the concert official place in its programme; the visiting guests of the Commission were invited. Governor Hughes of the State of New York, who boasts of Irish blood, and our one-time mayor and one-time president of Columbia College, Seth Low, as chairman of the Commission’s reception committee, occupied with the governor’s staff the central box on the grand tier. It was a “warm house,” then, that greeted the entry of the orchestra and the chorus on the broad stage, and listened raptly to what proved a fine concert of Irish music, deserving all the applause it received. And this was the programme:—

1. Overture—“Maritana,” W. V. Wallace

=Orchestra.=

2. Song—(a) “Ban-Chnoic Eireann, O” Mac Conmara

Lyric—(b) “The Penal Days” Davis

=Mrs. Helen O’Donnell.=

3. Chorus—(a) “The Minstrel Boy” Moore

(b) “Oft in the Stilly Night” Balfe

=Catholic Oratorio Society.=

4. Song (Irish)—“Thuit ar an m-bu-adharg” MacHale

Lyric (b)—“Sweet Harp of the Days That Are Gone,” words by Samuel Lover; music by his grandson, Victor Herbert.

=Mr. William Ludwig.=

5. Irish Symphony—(a) “Andante Con Moto” (two movements)

(b) “Allegretto Motto Vivace” V. Villiers Stanford

=Orchestra.=

6. Irish Rhapsody—“Erin, Oh, Erin” composed by Victor Herbert and dedicated to the Gaelic Society

=Orchestra.=

7. Song—“An Irish Noel” Augusta Holmes

=Madame Selma Kronold.=

8. Chorus—(a) “Hath Sorrow Thy Young Days” Balfe

(b) “The Fenian War Song” Sir. R. P. Stewart

=Catholic Oratorio Society.=

9. Song—(a) “Irish Reaper’s Harvest Hymn” Keegan

(b) “Old Ireland Shall Be Free” (words by J. J. Rooney, old air arranged by Victor Herbert)

=Mr. William Ludwig.=

10. American Fantasy Victor Herbert

=Orchestra.=

11. Anthem—“The Star Spangled Banner”

=Orchestra and Chorus.=

Singers and players performed delightfully. Mrs. O’Donnell, Madame Kronold and William Ludwig—that famous veteran of the German opera and great interpreter of Irish ballads—all won new laurels. Mr. Ludwig’s rendition of the spirited song by John J. Rooney, author of so many fine lyrics and ballads, was particularly impressive. But it was the work of Victor Herbert’s orchestra that lifted the occasion to its real height. The performance of Villiers Stanford’s Irish symphony and Herbert’s own Irish rhapsody was as true and fine as could be conceived, and in every way worthy of the brilliant compositions themselves. The chorus gave the Balfe lyric and “Oft in the Stilly Night” with fine shading and their singing of “The Fenian War Song” won an encore that would not be denied.

As a whole the concert gave an impression profoundly gratifying to all connected with it. I have said that it was conceived in the first place by Jeremiah Lawlor. It is right to add that Major E. T. McCrystal, chairman of the Concert committee, worked hard with Mr. Lawlor for the result achieved. To Mr. Lawlor, Seth Low wrote after the concert that he found it “most enjoyable,” and added:—

“The music itself was interesting, and it was rendered in a way worthy of all admiration. I think that those who have labored so hard for so many years to awaken interest in Gaelic culture have not only done a service for the members of the Irish race in this country, but, as illustrated by this really beautiful concert, they have rendered a valuable service to the whole country.”

It is a pleasure to bear out Mr. Low, and to formulate the hope that the Irish Concert of that Sunday evening may be parent of great effort among our people to justify to themselves and the world their boasted love of the art that made Ireland famous a thousand years ago.

THE HISTORICAL PARADE.

On Tuesday, September 28, the weather in the morning held little promise of procession weather. It had rained, and in some degree dampened ardor, but the meteoric luck of the celebration was to prevail and by noon the skies were opening, and just the right condition overhead and underfoot assured. The line of the three great processions, of which this was to be the first, had been well chosen. Assembling north of Central Park the parade was to pass down the broad avenue of Central Park West, a straight line of two miles and a half, turning east at 59th street for a short half mile to Fifth avenue, then down the avenue a straight line for another two miles and a half to the point of dispersal. For three miles the parade was to pass between a succession of stands for spectators, with stands at every available point on Fifth avenue and the grand stand in the Court of Honor at 42d street, as we have noted before.

It was a fine and suggestive parade. The fifty great floats provided with so much care did not, perhaps, come up in all things to expectations. Cold daylight plays havoc with such expressions of historic symbolism. It shows the gilding, the high colors, the make-believe material too unsparingly. It betrays the utter modernity of the costumed posturers standing for legendary and historic figures. Perhaps this was not the view of the cheering thousands as the floats passed by. Art-knowledge makes one hypercritical and art-smattering makes one expect too much. Let us take it as it seemed to the multitude—the heroism of history on wheels.

But the parade, on its really inspiring side, was its men. As phalanx after phalanx passed by at a marching step one felt the greatness of the land that had beckoned to the peoples of the world with such commanding gesture that they had sent hither the flower of their manhood to share the great heritage of democracy on a continent of unbounded opportunity. There they were, the Irish, the Italian, the Teuton, the Magyar, the French, the Scotch, the Dutch, the English, the Czech, the Pole, the Slav, the Greek, the Syrian, the Dane, the Swede; and the man of the great conglomerate, the man of the evolving type—the American.

After the line of splendid-looking mounted police, trim-built and firmly seated with many a Celtic face among them, marched on foot Hermann Ridder and the Mayor—two contrasting figures—Ridder, tall and erect, the Mayor short and dapper. Together they stepped the length of the way, both beaming with fair satisfaction, the populace cheering and the band playing.

Then came a line of green, Irish flags with crownless harps of gold.

The Irish had the right of the line—the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick (with whom the American-Irish Historical Society marched) were at the head of the parade, William Temple Emmet leading. Following came the Ancient Order of Hibernians with many Irish banners and led by Thomas Kelly. They wore wide-brimmed felt hats of military trim, and carried themselves admirably. Band after band and phalanx after phalanx of this nationality or that came on, some like the Hungarians in marvels of hussar costume, others in military coats, the breasts covered with multitudes of medals, won maybe at schutzenfest or turnverein, but probably not in war.

The Clan-na-Gael made a gallant showing, and the Irish Athletic societies, headed by the redoubtable P. J. Conway, turned out in force, marching with a free swing that caught the onlookers immensely. A feature was the Tammany column—a thousand or more tall-hatted and frock-coated stalwart, presentable men, with Charles F. Murphy at their head. They paraded, be it understood, as representing the charitable and benevolent and not the political side of the long-lived organization. They were popular with the crowds.

Notable was the passage of the Clermont float. It was well known to all that Martin Sheridan and John Flannagan were to be there, and where there was any doubt among the onlookers as to which was which, were not the policemen along the route ready to tell them? “That’s Martin Sheridan, the man in the bell-topper,” alluding to the remarkable headgear under which the great athlete stood for the great inventor. So the cheers billowed for the Clermont all the way, a cheer for Robert Fulton and “a tiger, boys, for Martin!”

THE POLICE AND THEIR TASK.

And as to those great-bodied policemen who held the swarming, sometimes obstreperous, but generally patient crowds in check, how finely they did it all. I would hesitate to say whether their faces or their accents indicated sixty or seventy per cent. of live Celtic blood in them, but it was not less than the lower figure, and may have been more than the greater. They won golden opinions on every side and from all classes that day, and for the many long, arduous days until the celebration was over. It was not merely to hold the line—a task calling for firmness, tact, strength and continuous good nature, but handling with skill the enormous crowds that filled the avenues when the processions had gone by, and all were rushing for their homes, filling to overflowing every car-line, every elevated roadway, and particularly cramming to congestion in the subway. In addition they had at all times to be “guide, philosopher and friend” to the full million of visitors new to metropolitan ways and pavements. And that was a task in itself.

THE MILITARY PARADE.

For Thursday, September 30, came another splendid day when the military parade made New York tingle with marching tunes and the rhythmic tramp of men. Here was something that always quickens the popular pulse. We had seen many like it in this big, thrilling town, but none that surpassed it. The primal impulse coming from the thought: “Here are our defenders; here our men who face death for Fatherland,” has to answer, no doubt, for the cheers that greet the men at arms as they swing marching by. When kingcraft added pomp, glitter and jingle to it and tamed the trumpet to sing a siren song, and patriotism fluttered flags above it rich in color and hung on gold-tipped spears, the magic was complete. Yet this pageant showed us more in one way and less in another. More, in the fact that it showed us thousands of soldiers and armed man o’ warsmen from many alien ships and lands—some time or other our possible enemies, our possible allies—but all keeping step with our own brave men in the name of a pictorial friendship and in the hope of an unbroken peace; above all paying this passing tribute to our city and our country. Less, in that it showed us the stripping off of the gauds and finery of war, bringing more directly home to us that war today will none of these, but must keep the human material of battle in ready fighting trim. Glory was marching in khaki and scorned all gold galloon. Over the same path as the civic procession of Tuesday came Military Glory in its ranked and regimented thousands, giving something of the thought that if called on to take to the trenches or march to the attack by the time it reached Washington’s arch, the men would be ready. Thus it gave two distinct sensations to the hundreds of thousands who watched it, outside the particular thrills that came when some well-remembered or much-admired division of the troopers came tramping grimly by.

Our Irish citizens enjoyed it immensely, for they knew when the “regulars” were passing that it was dotted all over with Irish faces; that it was the army that Andrew Jackson gloried in; that Phil Sheridan, Kearney, Meagher and a hundred other brilliant men of Irish blood and strain had led on fields of death. Was not their own 69th there swinging along as it had swung at any time in fifty years that the country called? It was, and gallantly held its own for drill and trim and soldier bearing. Did they not warm to the thought that the Irish volunteers were marching, men soldiering for the very love of it, and cherishing an olden hope that sometime, somewhere they might be allowed to charge a battery or storm a height for Ireland—Ireland far away, but Ireland ever near to their hearts. And this thought gave friendliness to their hail of the French marines and the French sailors, for the French had been Ireland’s friend as well as America’s in the old troubled times, and many a one lilted under his breath “Oh, the French are on the sea, says the Shan van Vocht” when the Gallic tri-color went dancing past. These thoughts made it seem tolerable that the English were in the line and went so far as to let them give the Germans a cheer or two, and extending various degrees of approval to Italians, Brazilians and Argentines. But the West Point cadets! There, the innate love of the fighting man by the fighting race found intimate appeal. Many the Irish captain, great in the battlefield, had learned the grim trade in that battalion, and now to see how fine and supple yet tense they seemed, how superbly they marched, how arrowlike their alignment, how wonderfully they wheeled or countermarched, and the bands playing through it all. It was a glorious day for all who took part and all who looked on.

THE NAVAL PARADE.

Another day on the water came with Friday, October 1, and the weather again was all that could be wished. Early the excursion steamers took on their loads, for the route was long of the Naval Parade. Shorn of the hundreds of tugboats and small craft that had swarmed the water on the Saturday before, it was a powerful and select squadron that turned its prows upstream to escort the Half Moon and the Clermont as far as Newburg, fifty-five miles above New York. The torpedo boats and a couple of the new sub-marines formed the governmental escorting party—the very old and the very new thus touching sides—and then came over one hundred powerful craft in line, decked in vari-colored bunting and with bands playing. It was a splendid sight, as passing the war ships they swept on beyond Manhattan island up the broad, deep stream. Commander Peary on his stout ship, Roosevelt, freshly arrived that morning from the North and his conquest of the Pole, received the tribute of the thousands in the procession. The dark rocky masses of the Palisades, now glowing here and there with autumn foliage, towered on the left, and on the right lay the river towns set amid fields and woods.

Many a flag of Ireland fluttered from the upper works of the great swift steamer “Asbury Park” on which had gathered some nine hundred of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick and the American-Irish Historical Society with their families and friends. Every provision for their comfort had been made, and the occasion rapidly became one of delightful enjoyment under the stimulation of the grand and historic scenery of the noble river, and the glow of friendly courtesy wherever the Irish race foregathers. The pace could not be very fast, for the greatest of the steamers was bound by the speed of the slowest, and these latter were the Half-Moon and the Clermont. All the more could the time of observation of the many points of interest along the river be extended. Dobb’s Ferry, where Washington had headquarters for so long, while his little army watched the English forces then holding New York against the patriots. Sleepy Hollow, Washington Irving’s home and the scene of his romance of The Headless Horseman, were pointed out. Tarrytown, where Major André, the British spy, was arrested, and Tappan, where he was executed, were noted as the line of steamers ploughed through the Tappan Zee where the Hudson broadens almost to a lake, and is four miles wide and twelve miles long, then past the great prison of Sing Sing on the East bank. Presently, the line was passing Stony Point, the promontory of the Hudson near the entrance to the Highlands. And the gallant story was retold of how the Revolutionary soldiers posted in the rude fortress there had succumbed to an attack by the British; how the loss of the fort rankled in the patriots’ breasts, and how, at the dead of night, in mid-July of 1779, mad Anthony Wayne with a devoted band delivered so sudden and overwhelming an assault that the British garrison was slain or captured, and the stars and stripes were sent aloft never since to give way to an alien flag. On then through the Highlands of the Hudson where the mountains slope down to the river on either side. Old river men aboard pointed out Fishkill Mountain, Storm King, Crow’s Nest, Donderberg, Anthony’s Nose, names written in the history of the country and the literature of the river. At West Point was seen perched on the cliffs the quarters of the military academy of the United States, whence so many great soldiers had been graduated and rich in the memory of Ireland’s celebrated sons as well. Across the river was pointed out the road, still winding down to the stream, by which the traitor, Benedict Arnold, fled, taking boat to the English brig of war, when he surely knew that his treason had been discovered in the capture of Major André. Swinging carefully then around the West Point bend in the river, that scene of rare beauty—the straight stretch of ten miles up to Newburg bay—broke upon the view.

MEETING OF THE AMERICAN IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

Under the inspiration of these stirring memories, the stimulus of the celebration and the desire of all concerned, a brief but memorable meeting of the American-Irish Historical Society was held on the forward covered deck of the “Asbury Park.” The Vice President of the New York Chapter discussed the events of the day and the week, and the Irish share therein, extending welcome to the members who had come from other states at the Chapter’s call to meet their brethren in this festal trip, and called on President-General, Dr. Francis J. Quinlan, to address the company. The members warmed to the President’s appeal, for he has the happy gifts of enthusiasm and Celtic eloquence. He spoke for the spread of the society and its usefulness in gathering for future generations the story of the Irish race in America, and laying a foundation for a greater communion among its men and women of today. He was followed by Thomas Zanslaur Lee, Secretary General of the Society, who succinctly told of the recent remarkable gains in membership, and gave practical hints for a still greater accession to the Society’s ranks. William Temple Emmet, President of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick, made a short speech of sympathy with the aims of the Society, and the proceedings terminated in an interchange of salutations shared by all present.

In Newburg bay the steamers of the fleet were gathering now, hovering and slowly circling about the Half-Moon and the Clermont and their escorts. The ancient town rising on the west bank of the river showed a gala front of flags, while thousands crowded the heights to view the scene upon the bay. The steamer Providence, bearing the officials of the day, had drawn up to the landing, and while they took part in a procession and made speeches appropriate to the occasion, those on the rest of the fleet dined and made merry. Never before, perhaps, had the waters thereabout furnished such a scene as that of the flag-decked fleet going to and fro under the blue sky, framed in the red and gold of autumn on the hills and breaking with screw and paddle the silver of the wide and placid stream. Would that Washington, whose fearless eyes had often gazed in the weary days of the long-drawn war, out over the river there, had caught that vision of young and strong America afloat and rejoicing a century after his passing away! His, however, were the eyes that saw across the mountains, and in the darkest day beheld the sun upon the hills beyond, and it is not for us to say what he did not see.

From Albany far up the Hudson had come the officials to take charge of the Half-Moon and the Clermont, and the pleasant task of the fleet from New York was done. Down the river, then, the prows were turned, and the homeward journey was begun. Many were the visits made and returned on board the “Asbury Park” as she headed south. The evening was deepening as she came by the city now breaking into light, a beautiful spectacle. So ended a day long to live in memory. As the excursionists stepped ashore to each one was handed a souvenir copy of Mr. Tuite’s “Robert Fulton and His Achievement,” which is reproduced in the volume farther on.

By the indefatigable secretary of the New York Chapter, Alfred J. Talley, I am furnished with the following list of the members of the Society who with their families and friends were on board:—

Albeus T. Adams, M. E. Bannon, Michael Blake, John J. Boyle, Henry J. Breen, William J. Broderick, Francis X. Butler, Edward R. Carroll, F. J. Cavanaugh, J. I. C. Clarke, Andrew J. Connick, Patrick J. Conway, Hugh M. Cox, E. J. Curry, Robert E. Danvers, Thomas F. Donnelly, Richard J. Donovan, Willis B. Dowd, John F. Doyle, M. J. Drummond, John J. Falahee, Joseph P. Fallon, Edward D. Farrell, Frank S. Gannon, Charles V. Halley, John H. Halloran, John Hannon, David Healy, John J. Hickey, Michael J. Jennings, Alfred J. Johnson, James G. Johnson, Michael J. Joyce, Phillip J. Magrath, P. J. Kelly, T. P. Kelly, Daniel Kennedy, T. Zanslaur Lee, Charles Leslie, Warren Leslie, Thomas S. Lonergan, Richard J. Lyons, D. H. McBride, Robert E. McDonnell, D. J. McGinnis, James J. McGuire, Edward J. McGuire, John C. McGuire, James A. McKenna, Stephen McPartland, Stephen J. McPartland, J. D. Morton, John Morgan, Bartholomew Moynahan, Michael J. Mulqueen, John E. Murphy, Thomas F. Noonan, John E. O’Brien, John O’Connell, John G. O’Keefe, D. P. O’Neil, James O’Shea, John O’Sullivan, Sylvester J. O’Sullivan, James W. Power, Francis J. Quinlan, Clarence W. Ramsey, James F. Reilly, James Rorke, Joseph Rowan, James T. Ryan, John J. Ryan, William Ryan, Dennis A. Spellissy, Thomas N. Mulry, Alfred J. Talley, Edward M. Tierney, Frank L. Tooley, William Tully, Watson Vredenburgh, Jr., Henry Wright, A. J. MacGuire, Harry L. Joyce, Thomas A. Emmet, William M. Byrne, William E. Hill, James A. McKenna, William J. Farrell, James Martin, Daniel M. Brady, John Fitzgibbon, Timothy Murray, William T. Emmet.

The guarantors of the contract were:

On behalf of the American Irish Historical Society: J. I. C. Clarke, Edward J. McGuire, T. Vincent Butler, William Michael Byrne, P. J. Magrath, Harry L. Joyce, John O’Sullivan, Francis J. Quinlan, M. D., Alfred J. Talley.

On behalf of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick: William Temple Emmet, Thomas T. Fitzsimons, Morgan J. O’Brien, Edward B. McCall, Warren Leslie, John D. Crimmins, John G. O’Keefe, Edward R. Carroll.

THE CARNIVAL PARADE.

For finish to the week of celebration came on the evening of Saturday, October 2, the Carnival Parade, over the same route as those of Tuesday and Thursday. It was a brilliant spectacle of lighted floats and costumed paraders that passed down the avenues with their strings of electric lights on either side. One cannot describe it all except in general terms. It defies words, as a flight of rockets defies them, but the Germans, Austrians and Swiss, who mostly furnished the human side of the spectacle, did nobly.

It was a week to remember, and, as has been indicated, Ireland’s sons had a handsome share in it.

“MANHATTAN.”

An Ode for the Hudson-Fulton Celebration, September, 1909.

BY JOSEPH I. C. CLARKE.

_Here at thy broad sea gate, On the ultimate ocean wave, Where millions in hope have entered in, Joyous, elate, A home and a hearth to win; For the promise you held and the bounty you gave, Thou, and none other, I call to thee, spirit; I call to thee, Mother, America!_

_Spirit of world of the West Throned on thy lifted sierras, Rivers the path for thy feet, Forests of green for thy raiment, Wide-falling cascades the film of thy veil, Moon-glow and star-flash thy jewels, Sunrise the gold of thy hair, Sweet was thy lure and compelling._

_Europe, pale, jaded, had palled us, Asia, o’ergilded, repelled us, Africa, desert faced, haunted us, Thou, when in freshness of morning, hadst called us, And wanted us, Held us._

_Over the ocean we came then, Wondering, hoping, adoring, Called thee our mother, kissing thy feet, Kindling our love into flame, then Old worlds and old loves ignoring, Making new bondage sweet. Bless us today, O Mother._

Hark, how the bells are chiming, How wind the horns, how cymbals clash, And a chorus, in might volume timing, To tramping beat that never lags! Heavily booming the cannons flash, And the air is thrilled with the snapping flags!

Where passed the grim Briton with venturing prow In the cycles fled, The city that stands like a fortress now, Turreted high by the edge of the water, America’s eldest, magnificent daughter, With garlands is twining her brow, For joy that her laughing heart remembers Three hundred red and gold Septembers.

To catch the glint of her proudest glance, To hear the heartening music of her drum, To see her banners flutter and advance, Glad in the sunrise, let us come,

Not as came Hudson thro’ mists of the sea— Dipping and rolling his Dutch-built ship— Scanning the land fall with hungering eyes And close-clenched lip, By morning and noon, Creeping past headland and sand-billowed dune, Wing-weary ghost of a phantom quest, Steering athrill but where waters led west.

Not as when taking the sweep of the bay, Sparkling agleam in the brave Autumn weather, Silent of man in the new dawn aquiver, Anchored his lone ship lay. Not as he sailed where the hills draw together Holding his course up the broad-breasted river, Only the dream of Beyond in his brain, Only the seas of Cathay to attain, On till the narrowed stream told him ’twas vain. Then back as one baffled, undone, Unknowing he’d won by the gate of the sea The throne of an empire of peoples to be. Peace to his dream that found ghastly close Mid the sheeted wraiths of the arctic snows!

Not as came Fulton; even he Came brooding at the level of the sea, Elect among the genius-brood of men, Grandson of Ireland, son of the land of Penn, Pale-browed, nursing a great work-day dream— Harnessing the racers of the deep to steam Here first his Clermont turned her paddle blades, And so, our flag above his craft unfurled, He steamed beneath the Palisades, The Father of all steam-fleets of the world. Well may Manhattan glory in his fame, And on her highest roster carve his name, Yet, not as came he, let us come.

No: to the skies as on wings Let us rise And come from the east with the faint red dawn, Haven and harbor are carpets of trembling gold, And the silver mist to the green hills clings Till the mounting sun has the web withdrawn, And behold, The city lifts up to its height at last, With frontage of hull and funnel and mast In the day’s full beam, And over the sky-topping roofs in the blue, Over the flags of many a hue Are waving white pennons of steam.

We know thee, Manhattan, proud queen, And thy wonderful mural crown, With Liberty islanded there at thy knee, Uplifting her welcome to those who’d be free, And beckoning earth’s trodden down. We know how the waters divide And unite for thy pride, And the lofty bridges of steel stretch hands To the burg on the height that stands For thy wealth’s overflow: With the freighters creeping between, And the slow, slanted sails slipping to and fro, As the giants of ocean steam in and go forth. We trace thy slim island reach up to the north, Its streets in arrowy distance aloom, Its marts, its homes, its far off tomb; The pleasure greens dotting thy vesture of white, And tower and steeple like spears in the light.

Lift thee, Manhattan, no peer to thy strength, Energy crystalled in turrets of stone, Force chained to form thro’ thy breadth and thy length, The builders’ Gibraltar, the fortress of trade, Might of the mart into monument fashioned, Mammon translated to mountain man-made, The clouds ever nigher and nigher; And the clang of the anvil, the steam-shriek impassioned Seem calling from girder and frontlet of steel Upward thrown, With the square-chiseled blocks, As they build ever higher and higher, And then, for firm planting thy heel, They delve ever deeper to heart of the rocks. Deep in thy vitals the dynamos whirring, Are feeding thy nerves that are wires, Thy tunnels, thy veins, Stretch out as the human tide swerves, And thy hidden fires With the breath of thy bosom stirring, Make life in the dark for thy lightning trains.

And out of it all a new beauty arising, The beauty of force, Winning a triumph beyond thy devising, Height-mad and power-glad Pinnacled, domed, crenelated, Masonry clambering course upon course, To a glory of skyline serrated, Lofty and meet For the worship of all the waves laving thy feet.

Mighty, ay mighty Manhattan, Grown, while Time counted but three arrow flights, From bare strand and woodland and slow rising knoll— A handful of redmen encamped on thy heights— To the city of millions; Of millions too ever the goal, City whose riches are billions, Whose might never fails, Whom the nations from far off salute, And the voice of a continent hails On thy festival day!

While the cries of the multitude roll In praise of thy marble-hewn body majestic, Sing to me, queen, of thy soul.

Sing of thy spirit, thy mind, Remembering then, The kernel and not the rind, The heat not the fires. We shall not judge thee by thy tallest spires, But by the stature of thy men; Not thy great wealth of bales and casks and gold, Nor mounting scales of what thou’st bought or sold Shall here suffice, But riches thine in virtues beyond price:

Not all thy beauteous daughters costly gowned, But of thy women chastely wived and crowned; Not all thy gold in public service spent, But test of equal, honest government; Not creeds or churches, tabernacles, shrines, But faith that lives and love that shines; Not courts and Judges multiplied, But justice throned and glorified; Thy reasons clear before the world avowed, Not voice of easy conscience of the crowd; Not by thy thousand colleges and schools, But culture greater than their sums and rules; Not by thy topmost reach of speech and song, But by their lift of light and art that’s long, And from the mingling races in thy blood, The wane of evil and the growth of good; Not the high-seated but the undertrod; The brother love of man for man, Ideals not ambitions in the van; Not thy lip-worship but the imminence of God.

But we who’d mete thy steps upon the heights, And thy soul-message ask Know well the battles that thy day’s work brought. No Greek Atlantis are thou, Plato’s thought Made sudden real; No fair Utopia thou of mounts ideal, Eased of thy burden and thy task With long surmountings in the darkness fraught.

Swift thy foundations grew, but nights of tears And days of dark foreboding marked thy years. Here freedom battled with the tyrant’s might, Here Washington—Immortal One—made fight. Here swung the prison ships and here the jail Whose gallows freed the soul of Nathan Hale.

The orange flag of Holland flew Above thee for a space. Then England’s red for decades few Flushed crimson in thy face, Until our arms set over thee The flag none may displace; That waving free shall cover thee While lasts the human race— The flag that to the breeze we threw When skies of hope were bare, Its red our blood, the sky its blue, Its stars our watchlights there.

Full oft the ocean harvests at thy doors Shed sodden grain upon thy threshing floors, The sound, sweet ears with wild tares reached thee mixed, Long-fixed beliefs came hitherward unfixed. Long-crushed desires that freedom bids to bloom, The yoke thrown off, for lawlessness made room. How could it other? Shorn of lords and guides They pressed atow’rd thee over westering tides. From lands of Czars and Princes still they come, Some young and lusty, open-browed, and some Oppression-stunted, famine-driven, sad. All praying thee for welcome fair and glad— A niche, a shelter, honest toil and home, And these thou givest, Queen beside the foam.

And stout their grateful millions stand on guard, Their brain and muscle working thee reward— The solid Dutch, the level English strain, The gifted French, our allies tried and true, The German staunch, the Kelt of Ireland bold, Italian fire and Spanish pride; the Jew Keen-witted, dragging here no ghetto chain; Each giving thee their lore, their art of old; Each fired by thee with hopes and raptures new.

And Queen, thy women exquisite, Thy clear-eyed maids, thy mothers pure— Pledge of thy greatness sweetly to endure! By these I bless thee in thy day of joy, Thy wide-thrown halls, thy hospitable board, Thy heart of anxious service, and the rays Of kindliness within thy bosom stored. No evil shall thy graciousness destroy, And so I bid thee with increasing days No whit thy fair ambitions to abate; Fulfill thy destiny of good and great.

Hark, the message of Manhattan’s soul!

_Constant my soul on the hard path of duty, Striving to win to the levels above, Longing my soul in the gardens of beauty, Eager my soul in the service of love, Tender my soul to the angels of pity, Humble my soul to the bearers of light, Fearless my soul at the gates of the city, Stalwart my soul for the ultimate right._

_Mighty my dreams of a city imperial, Radiant, free with an ordered law, Rich, but with mind-gold beyond the material, Powerful, merciful, just without flaw, Thrift-strong and gentle-voiced, rippling with laughter, Song-filled, and thrilled with the triumphs of art, Poverty banished, and now and hereafter, Peace in my bosom, joy in my heart._

IRISH STARS IN THE ARCHIVES OF NEW YORK PROVINCE.

BY HON. HUGH HASTINGS, FORMER STATE HISTORIAN OF NEW YORK.

The Irish have never been known as explorers or as discoverers. Their forte is recognized as establishing success where others have tried and failed. Stranded as they were on their desert habitat, we can easily understand why the early annals of our country are not more frequently embellished by Irish names. As early as October 12, 1605, Sir Arthur Chichester wrote from Ireland to the English prime minister, Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, that it “was absurd folly to run over the world in search of colonies in Virginia or Guiana, whilst Ireland was lying desolate.” The first expedition that left England—almost three years before Henry Hudson discovered the river that bears his name—brought over the first Irishman to America, Francis Maguire, who arrived at Jamestown Virginia, with Captain Christopher Newport, May 6, new style, 1607. Maguire remained in the new country for nearly a year and returned to England with Newport. He wrote an account of his voyage to Virginia and submitted it to the Privy Council of Spain.

Many years elapse before an Irish name is discovered among the early settlers of New York, and then it is so overwhelmed and encumbered with Dutch orthography and Dutch pronunciation as to be well nigh indistinguishable, even to its owner if he ever ran over it. Against an ancient Dutch muster roll profound knowledge must bow deferentially. The most expert linguist stands in awe of it, and his most skilful expedients are often baffled in efforts to translate it, for the Seventeenth Century Dutch scrivener knew, read, saw, felt, thought, recognized nothing but Dutch—nor were mustees, Indians and negroes exempt from this classification. All were clothed in Dutch orthographical habiliments as religiously as they were fed with suppawn at breakfast, whether it was welcome or not.

When the time arrived, however, for Irish names to appear officially in the Archives of the Province of New York, it is supremely gratifying to us, who are proud of our Irish blood and the State and country in which we live, to discover two bright particular stars blazing steadily from a firmament black with corruption.

When Thomas Dongan, a gallant soldier and experienced man of affairs, arrived in New York City, in the fiftieth year of his age, as governor of the province, liberty of action was restrained as arbitrarily as liberty of speech was repressed. The printing press was embargoed. Freedom of worship was circumscribed. Quakers and Jews were ostracized and driven from the pale. Dongan was charged by his royal master with three important duties:

1. To call an assembly of representatives of New York.

2. To allure the Indians from the French.

3. To introduce the Roman Catholic religion into the Province.

The first was easy of accomplishment, for the governor was simply required to carry out the King’s orders, which were most agreeable to the persons directly affected. The second was facilitated by the governor’s recognized status as a Catholic. The third was impossible, because of the anomalous position of the King and the avowed and deep-rooted hostility of the people to the church of Rome. Furthermore, in the prosecution of his work toward the fulfillment of these obligations the governor invariably was balked by the prurient meddling of his royal master.

The General Assembly met at Fort James in the Battery, New York, in October, 1683, held a three weeks’ session and passed fourteen measures, including the famous “Charter of Liberties and Privileges.” In this act occurred the first official mention of “the people” in a constitutional document in America, or, as it reads, the supreme authority under the King and the duke “shall forever reside in a governor, council and the people met in general assembly.” It was also provided that the representatives should appoint their times of meeting and that they could adjourn from interval to interval at their will; that no tax should be imposed but by the consent of the governor, the council of twenty-one and the representatives; and that no billeting of troops in time of peace should be tolerated. Full and free liberty was granted to all persons professing faith in God by Jesus Christ, unmolested to exercise the mode of worship agreeable to them, provided “the good people be not disturbed.” To Albany and New York were given charters.

In this connection before proceeding to the consideration of the broader lines of Dongan’s policy and of the matters he accomplished or failed to accomplish, it may not be amiss to glance at some of the restrictions placed upon and some of the liberties enjoyed by the New Yorker of that period. The population of the province was estimated at 20,000 souls. None but freemen were permitted to sell by retail or exercise any handicraft trade; a tax of £3, 12s. was laid upon every merchant and shopkeeper and of £1, 4s. upon every handicraft man when set free; only freemen or a resident of the city three years were permitted to trade upon Hudson river; all the inhabitants on the Hudson river were prohibited from trading across the sea; bakers were required to keep good household bread made of flour, as “the meals come from the mill”; no flour bolted or “bisket” should be made for exportation but in the city; no flour or bread should be imported into the city from any other part of the province; the assize for bread was established every three months.

A few ancient police regulations of Dongan’s time will forcibly appeal to the modern dweller in New York. Servile work on the Lord’s day was proscribed under a penalty of ten shillings, with double the fine for each repetition. Children were forbidden from gathering in the streets or places to play on that day. Public houses were prohibited from selling liquor on the Sabbath during divine service unless to travellers. Constables were compelled to walk the streets with their staffs to see that the law was fulfilled, and were further required to return the names of all strangers that come to reside within the ward as masters of public houses were ordered to report all strangers that come to lodge or live with them, as the custom is today in every European city. In the days of Dongan twenty carmen and no more were appointed under proper regulations—one of which demanded that they fill up, amend and repair the breaches in the streets and highways, in and about the city, when required by the Mayor, gratis. No negro or other slave was permitted to drive any cart, except brewers’ drays, within the city. The carrying of concealed weapons was interdicted.

The high hopes the colonists had entertained of the liberal and enlightened policy James had outlined by Dongan’s introduction were soon dashed to the ground and they suffered all the pangs of a crushing disappointment. The Assembly promised by the Charter of Liberties was never convened, for in February, 1685, Charles II, King of England, died. His brother, the Duke of York, ascended the throne and as James the King promptly repudiated the Colonial policy of James the Duke, the charter was vetoed, the Assembly was abolished and the province was precipitated backward to the old Monarchial order of things.

Dongan in the meantime had won the affection and confidence of the Iroquois, partly by means of his religious professions and by his tact and straightforwardness in dealing with them. The innocent-hearted child of the forest trusted Corlear most implicitly in spite of French intrigue and French subsidies. It was the influence which Dongan had gained that restrained the tribes from a contemplated foray in Virginia. With the Indian situation confidently in his hand, Dongan was checked by his King, who had entered into a religious coalition with Louis XIV, the most powerful sovereign in Europe. James ordered the governor to prevent the Iroquois from attending a council in Canada to entertain proposals for peace. The lieutenant on the ground, unbiased by notions of European politics, far better understood the situation in New York than his royal master three thousand miles away. The governor was more far-sighted than his King. Dongan diligently aspired to annihilate French supremacy over the Indians, but questioned the wisdom of using Jesuits, whose predilections for the French were well known to him. The Iroquois were loyal to New York and had never forgiven the French for the seizure of their sachems by order of Louis XIV. Dongan faithfully attempted to foster the former sentiment, as he never neglected an opportunity to remind his red allies of the latter prejudice. The efficacious methods he had pursued were destroyed by the treaty of neutrality which inhibited New England and France from assisting Indians who were at war with one another.

Dongan’s crowning offense, however, in the eyes of his King was his failure to force his faith upon a people who were in no mood, as later events proved, to permit their religious prejudices to be tampered with. Again were the prudence and the wisdom of the lieutenant demonstrated at the expense of the intelligence of the King. Dongan’s loyalty and devotion to his church never was doubted nor questioned. The course he pursued reflects the highest credit upon his conservatism, his courage and his fidelity to religious principle. If any event were needed in the life of a King to prove deficiency in judgment, and incompetence as a ruler, the action of the unfortunate James II in superseding Thomas Dongan at this critical time and for the specific cause selected would prove sufficient and convincing.

We all have read and listened to the marvellous tales of that jaunty terror of the seas, Captain William Kidd, and been brought up from childhood on the mournful ballad of William Moore—household names both of them—but how many remember the importance of the influence exercised in those days by the governor of New York, Richard Coote, Earl of Bellomont, in the formation of the expedition organized by the former and in the apprehension of the culprit for the murder of the latter. The times were scandalously corrupt and corrupt individuals lived extravagantly up to the times. Land-grabbing was practised as an art in New York then as it is practised in Oregon today. Indian rings and land grants were common and notorious and flourished brazenly. Officers of the Crown who should have crushed them were often ringleaders in organizing them; ministers of the gospel, who should have interceded for and protected the innocent child of the forest, basely betrayed their trust, and were leagued in corruption to acquire vast tracts of valuable land from the confiding aboriginal owner. The governor of the province seldom arose above his environment. As a rule he possessed no capabilities for the position. If he were not bankrupt he was ignorant, or a degenerate representative of the nobility, despatched to New York to repair or redeem his shattered fortune or to make one by whatever means he might employ, the province being regarded by the home authorities as a common receptacle to be utilized for the purposes named. Sympathy for the colonists on the part of a governor was displayed as seldom as integrity or interest in the future of the province. The ambition of the governor seemed to be bounded by perquisites and he generally left the shores of New York for England with a fortune that placed him on a plane with the richest men of the old world. Privateering was a prolific source of revenue. No man with ready cash disdained identity with it. It was countenanced by so gracious a ruler as William III, who encouraged and patronized it. A change of flag only was necessary to convert an innocent privateer into a ferocious and bloodthirsty pirate. These wild rovers of the sea respected neither vessel nor nation. Many bore commissions from James II and from William III and many bore none at all. Governor Fletcher was their acknowledged friend and alleged co-partner in their villainies. New York City was their recognized headquarters.

It was because Bellomont had established a reputation as a man of resolution and of integrity that he was chosen by his King as governor of New York. His orders imposed obligations that reflected credit upon his abilities as an executive of the purest virtue and the strongest character. Discontent and disorder were rampant because of the cruel murder of Leisler and Milborne. Uneasiness and anxiety prevailed throughout the province because of the threatened attitude of the Indians. The rapacity and greed of his predecessor, Fletcher, had engendered enmities and jealousies that even the mighty resources of the King were powerless to allay.

Bellomont’s requisition for a frigate to suppress piracy was vetoed, for the reason that England needed her entire available marine force for service in home waters because of the war with France. The suggestion of a private ship was more successful and met with the financial assistance of the King, the duke of Shrewsbury, lord chancellor Somers, the Earls of Oxford and Romney, Robert Livingston and others, Bellomont assuming the responsibility of equipment. It was this ship, the Adventure, which was turned over to William Kidd, a resident of New York, then in London. Kidd, beyond question, ranks as the transcendent specimen of his class. He was a navigator par excellence, a man of the world; a type that, when pushed by fortune into any orbit, commands the situation by the power of his own robust characteristics. Kidd’s orders were simple. He was to prey upon French commerce and to destroy pirates. In the first desideratum he proved a failure; in the second, by becoming a pirate himself he achieved a brilliant and, in the end, a fatal success. Upon his career on the high seas, as a privateer and pirate, it is not necessary to dilate. Two years after his departure from Plymouth he arrived in New York, only to find that his friend, Governor Fletcher, and other piratical sympathizers were no longer in control of the affairs of the province. Kidd sailed Eastward along the Sound and buried part of his plunder on Gardiner’s Island. He then proceeded to Boston, where he appeared on the streets in the gorgeous raiment of a man of fashion. Governor Bellomont happened to meet him, recognized him, arrested him and shipped him to Europe. Kidd was tried and convicted for the murder of William Moore—and was hanged as a pirate.

In the meantime Bellomont deplored the legacy his predecessor, Fletcher, had left him: A divided people, an empty purse, a few miserable, naked, half-starved soldiers, not half the number the King allowed pay for; the fortifications and the governor’s house very much out of repair, and “in a word the whole government was out of frame.” The province was rent with turmoil and turbulence in consequence of the Leisler-Milborne rebellion. The new governor’s sympathies had been drawn toward the martyr Leisler, whose enemies in the aristocratic party resisted almost to the point of violence Bellomont’s efforts to make restitution for a monstrous crime. As a rebuke to the rascality of his predecessor Bellomont had declared: “I will take care there shall be no misapplication of the public money; I will pocket none of it myself nor shall there be embezzlement by others.” To this standard he unflinchingly held. No breath of scandal, no charge of prostitution of duty for self-aggrandizement tainted his reputation. He loyally protected the interests of those whom he was sent to govern. He was distinctively a statesman of the constructive school, in marked contradistinction to many of those governors who preceded and who followed him, who pursued a policy of confiscation or of destruction—of confiscation in grabbing everything in sight and of destruction by undermining the liberties of the people and by attempted restriction of their God-given rights. Under Bellomont’s short administration the frontiers were strengthened, a library was established, printing was encouraged, shipping promoted and education, which had been neglected, stimulated. His untimely death, however, prevented the development of many beneficent reforms which he had under contemplation.

Under the cloak of politics repressive religious measures were adopted and inhuman persecutions practised. Dongan, an Irish Catholic, favored an act permitting Jews to exercise their religion, but the New York Common Council vetoed the proposition, while Bellomont, an Irish church of England worshipper, approved the measure proscribing priests, on the ground that Catholic prelates uniformly labored to excite the Indians against the Anglo-Americans. Both governors recommend themselves to posterity for enlightened statesmanship that throws into deep obscurity the times in which they lived. Dongan brought to the province of New York the first semblance of a representative form of government; under Lord Bellomont the first spark of American Independence flashes, by the demand that the colonists repudiate the laws of England because the colonists are not represented in the parliament that frames these laws. The board of trade of London directs Bellomont to check this heresy because “the independence the Colonists thirst for is so notorious.”

During the Colonial epoch England assigned many men to govern New York. The governor possessed unlimited despotic powers. He exercised authority denied to the King. He not only made the laws but interpreted and executed them, and when necessary unmade them. He usurped the prerogatives of the Assembly and of the courts; his council was merely an aggregation of automatons who danced when he pulled the string. No act of the Assembly was placed on the statute book without his signature and no decision of the court was valid until he, as chief justice, passed judgment, and in this respect he exercised powers denied to the King, for his Majesty, while permitted to sit on the king’s bench, was prohibited from expressing judgment. There were two governors of early New York who never have been brought under the ban of usurping the functions of the coördinate branches of government nor of debasing the powers confided to them by their superiors, Thomas Dongan and the Earl of Bellomont. No charge ever has been brought that they carried away money unworthily raised or dishonestly made. Nor has either ever been accused of using his high position for unmeritorious or discreditable purposes. Both, however, have received the encomiums and praise of historians of England and America as rulers and statesmen of the highest degree of efficiency and honesty at a time when the standard of morals and of statesmanship was lamentably low and unquestionably debased. Toward both every Irishman and every New Yorker should turn with sentiments of the strongest esteem and admiration of the highest calibre, not only in commendation of the success they gained in the fulfillment of official obligations in the face of discouraging and corrupt environment, but for the sturdy and sterling manhood they displayed in the maintenance of their official honor and in the normal performance of their official duty.

In this connection it may not be amiss for us to pay a deserved tribute to Dr. Edmund Bailey O’Callaghan, a native of Ireland, who was more instrumental in awakening the study of the Dutch language and of our priceless Dutch records than any other man since the creation of the State of New York. Dr. O’Callaghan represented the type of the pushing, aggressive and scholarly Irishman. Two years of his early life were devoted to the study of medicine in Paris. At the age of twenty-six he crossed the ocean, settled in Canada and at once became prominent in the agitation for Catholic emancipation in Ireland and England. He became secretary of an organization for Irish immigrants to America, edited a newspaper in Montreal, and was sent to the Provincial Parliament, where his activity and ability placed him in the front rank as a leader. His radical views and conduct, however, brought a mob of tories to his office and led to the destruction of his type, press and establishment. His neighbors, however, made it so unpleasant that he was compelled to seek refuge in the United States when he was forty years of age. He established his residence in Albany, was fortunate in the selection of his most intimate friend, Chancellor Reuben Hyde Walworth, practised his profession with more or less success, and at the same time conducted an industrial paper called the Northern Light. It was at this period that, during the anti-rent disturbances, he undertook the study of the Dutch language. His “History of New Netherlands” made him famous and stimulated the study of Colonial records and Colonial research throughout the United States.

THE SIXTY-NINTH REGIMENT, NEW YORK CITY.

A Paper Read before the American-Irish Historical Society, at its Twelfth Annual Meeting, Held at the Hotel Plaza, New York City, Saturday, January 8, 1910, by Hon. James Fitzgerald, Justice of the Supreme Court of the State of New York.

The patriotic founders of our government looked with disfavor upon the existence of large standing armies in times of peace for very many reasons. Not only did they consider them a tax upon industry and a drain upon the young manhood of the country, but they felt that their maintenance constituted a menace to liberty, and yet these wise and far seeing builders of the Republic realized that there could be no security for personal liberty or property rights in a State that had not at its command an armed force, and so we find imbedded in the fundamental law a provision that “a well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed” (Art. 2, 1st Amendts. U. S. Const. March, 1789). Freedom had just been achieved by the sword, and that reliance for its preservation must at all times rest upon arms was a doctrine to which the statesmen of the Revolution unreservedly subscribed. Soldiers were necessary but it was not necessary that all good soldiers should be professionals. To citizens engaged in the ordinary avocations of life, in industrial arts, in commercial pursuits, in commerce or trade, in the professions, military instruction could be given, opportunities for practice and drill formations afforded, including lessons in the organization and mobilization of armies, so that when necessity required, a well disciplined armed body might be readily summoned from civil ranks for service in the field and as readily absorbed back into industrial life when the hour of peril had passed, the threatened danger had been averted and the emergency no longer existed for martial music, emblazoned banners, marching legions and tented fields.

Since the earliest settlement of this continent, the Irish race has been prominently identified with our history. Irishmen were among the first settlers; they continued to come uninterruptedly, they are still coming, and unless conditions change very much for the better in the Green Isle, they are going to keep on coming in the future. The spirit of Irish-Americanism is a spirit of intense Americanism; it stands for the Union of States, the sovereignty of the flag, obedience to the laws, loyalty to the government, good citizenship in peace, and in war, prompt response when volunteers are called for. Volumes would be insufficient to spread the record of the achievements of the sons of Erin upon American battlefields; individuals might be cited by the score or by the hundred whose intrepidity and devotion shed glory upon our arms on sea and shore.

The Constitution of the State of New York, adopted April 20, 1777, contained the clause: “The militia of this State at all times hereafter, as well in peace as in war, shall be armed, disciplined and ready for service.” The necessary enactments to carry out this provision were provided for by legislation the following year. (Chap. 33. “An Act for regulating the Militia of the State of New York.” Passed April 3, 1778; Chap. 46, An Act to amend an act entitled “An Act for regulating the Militia of the State of New York.” Passed June 30, 1778.) Outside of a few cities, while the militia force was large upon paper, it was in reality but a mere skeleton. Until at the end of 1860, there were less than 15,000 men uniformed, disciplined and drilled, or in any sort of readiness for military duty, and this meagre force was chiefly confined to the cities of New York and Brooklyn, with contingents at Kingston and Albany.

The first record of the 69th Regiment of New York City is the order issued by the Adjutant General, bearing date November 1, 1851, and designated “General Order 489.” This order provided for the consolidation into a single regiment of a number of independent companies which had been separately organized prior to that time chiefly by men of Irish birth or parentage. About this period, owing to the vast volume of immigration in the preceding decade, New York contained the largest Irish population of any city in the world, and from the first, the 69th became identified in the public mind as a regiment composed of Irishmen. Among its early officers appear the names of some men who were well-known in connection with the Young Ireland movement, which had culminated but a few years previously. Its first commander was Colonel Charles S. Roe, who served until 1854, and was succeeded by Colonel James B. Ryan, who was followed August 26, 1859, by the gallant and beloved Col. Michael Corcoran. The regiment crept early into the affections of the people of the metropolis and was beloved by the Irish residents. Its distinctive character was manifested in numerous and emphatic ways,—sometimes by the wearing of green faced tunics, at others by the display of plumes showing the green above the red, the carrying of the Irish flag, or other similar devices. It had usually the right of the line in the St. Patrick’s Day parades, and in all functions in which it participated, its approach was heralded by the strains of well-known Irish music. It rapidly became the typical Irish military organization of the country, and for its success or failure, the children of the race throughout the Union felt themselves responsible.

In 1860, the then Prince of Wales—now Edward VII, King of Great Britain—visited the United States, and was scheduled to arrive in New York City on Thursday, October 11, of that year. The First Division, New York State Militia, was ordered out to receive him and directed to form at the Battery for the purpose of parade and review. All the regiments of the Division with the exception of the Sixty-ninth Regiment, assembled at the time and place appointed for the formation. The order received by Colonel Corcoran from headquarters was not promulgated, and he was immediately ordered under arrest and a court martial summoned to try him upon a charge of disobedience of orders. This circumstance fixed firmly in the public mind the race and sentiments of the commander and the men of the 69th.

April 12, 1861, witnessed the firing upon Fort Sumter, and on the 15th, President Lincoln issued his proclamation calling out the militia of the several states to the number of 75,000 men, and five days thereafter, the court martial which had been ordered to try Colonel Corcoran was dissolved, the pending charges were dismissed, and he was at once restored to his command. The order dismissing the charges, which bears date, April 20, 1861, is designated Special Order No. 9, and reads as follows:

“In pursuance of Special Orders No. 58 from General Headquarters, the Court Martial detailed for the trial of Colonel Corcoran is dissolved, and the charges dismissed, and Colonel Corcoran is directed forthwith to resume the command of his regiment.

“By order of “CHARLES W. SANFORD, “Major-General.

“GEORGE W. MORELL, “Div. Eng’r. and Div. Insp’r.”

Colonel Corcoran at once resumed command of the regiment and issued General Order No. 1, an historic order concluding with the words: “The Commandant feels proud that his first duty after being relieved from a long arrest is to have the honor of promulgating an order to the regiment to rally to the support of the Constitution and Laws of the United States.” Within twenty-four hours from the posting of this order, six thousand men had volunteered, but the instructions of Governor Morgan prohibited the enlistment of more than the regimental compliment of one thousand men. The twenty-third of April, 1861, dawned bright and clear, but warmer than usual at that season, over the Empire City; apprehension and gloom prevailed throughout the country; ten sovereign states had formed a powerful confederacy and were in armed revolt against the authority of the Federal Government. Many of the ablest soldiers and statesmen of the Republic had taken their stand against the Union; the timid were upon the verge of panic, and misgivings and uncertainty were paralyzing even the resolute and strong. Under such circumstances, faithful and loyal, the gallant Sixty-ninth Militia assembled in Prince Street, near the then St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the Cathedral of the great Archbishop of New York, the Most Reverend John Hughes, and proceeded thence to the rendezvous at Great Jones Street. Hope was given to the hearts of the good people of this city as they witnessed the spirit displayed by this brave body of citizen soldiery, and when at the appointed hour, the order to march was sounded and the regiment proceeded down Broadway to the strains of martial music, the surging multitude that lined the streets, the myriad spectators that filled the windows along the route to Cortlandt Street broke into continuous cheers. Twin flags floated everywhere on that day. Twin banners were carried by the regimental standard bearers—the flag of Columbia with all its stars emblazoned on its field of blue, the green banner of Erin with the harp uncrowned. The regiment boarded the Steamer “James Adger,” at Pier 4, North River, reached Annapolis on the twenty-sixth of April, and proceeding up the Potomac to Washington by Steamer “Marion,” was mustered into the service of the United States on May 9 for three months. The following is a list of the field, staff and company commanders at this time:

FIELD AND STAFF.

Colonel—Michael Corcoran, Commanding. Lieutenant Colonel—Robert B. Nugent. Major—James Bagley. Adjutant—John McKeon. Chaplain—Rev. Thomas Mooney. Engineers—Hon. John H. McCunn, James B. Kirker. Surgeon—Dr. James L. Kiernan. Assistant Surgeon—Robert Johnson. Quartermaster—Joseph B. Tully. Paymaster—Martin Kehoe.

COMPANY COMMANDERS.

Company “A”—Captain Haggerty. Company “B”—Captain Lynch. Company “C”—Captain Cavanagh. Company “D”—Captain Clark. Company “E”—Captain Kelly. Company “F”—Captain Breslin. Company “G”—Captain Duffy. Company “H”—Captain James Kelly.

On the 22nd of May a body of three hundred men, known as Meagher’s Zouaves, recruited after the regiment’s departure, joined Colonel Corcoran at the Capitol City. At midnight on the 23d of May the 69th, together with the 5th Massachusetts, the 28th New York, and a detachment of regular cavalry, crossed the Aqueduct Bridge at Georgetown into Virginia. On the following morning the regiment began the construction of Fort Corcoran, which, with Fort Runyon, constituted the first regular works erected by Federalist forces at the beginning of the Civil War, and the ceremonies attending the raising of the flag on the occasion were participated in by Colonel Corcoran, Colonel David Hunter and Captain Thomas Francis Meagher, two of whom subsequently attained the rank of Brigadier General (Corcoran and Meagher) and the third of whom (Hunter) afterwards became a Major General. The 69th, together with the 79th and 13th New York and 2d Wisconsin regiments, and a Battery of Light Artillery, U. S. A., composed the 3d Brigade of the 1st Division of McDowell’s Army, having for its Brigade Commander Colonel William Tecumseh Sherman, of the 13th U. S. Infantry, whose distinguished achievements in after years elevated him to foremost rank among the great Captains of history. Brigadier General Daniel Tyler commanded the division.

On July 21st, the regiment participated in the Battle of Bull Run (Manassas). Col. Corcoran was wounded and fell into the hands of the Confederates. The regiment lost one hundred and fifty of its members, among them its gallant Acting Lieutenant Colonel James Haggerty, of whom the eloquent Meagher said: “No braver soldier was ever produced by the land of Sarsfield and Shields.” The three months period of service having expired, the 69th Regiment, New York State Militia, was mustered out of the United States service August 3, 1861, and returned to New York City, resuming its position as a militia regiment of the State. The time for which the regiment had been called into service had ended but the great war had only fairly begun, and President Lincoln having issued his call for 500,000 men for three years or the war, about 800 of the returned militiamen volunteered to re-enlist, and on August 30, 1861, under orders from the War Department, the 69th Regiment, New York Volunteers, was formed. Robert Nugent was selected as Colonel; James Kelly, Lieutenant Colonel; and James Cavanagh, Major. This regiment was rapidly recruited to full strength, and so many additional recruits presented themselves that it was decided to organize a brigade. The 63d and 88th Regiments, together with the 14th and 15th Independent Batteries, New York Light Artillery, in furtherance of this design, were immediately formed. The organization of the brigade was entrusted to Thomas Francis Meagher, who, on February 6, 1862, assumed its command as Brigadier General. This gifted and daring soldier and patriot, the Commander of the Irish Brigade, will ever be remembered as a conspicuous figure of his time. In his early manhood, by gift of genius, he had leaped to foremost rank among public men in his native isle. He had pleaded the doctrine of armed resistance to tyranny with an inspired eloquence and had defied the might of his country’s oppressors by participating in an insurrection; he had been condemned to death and had suffered a long imprisonment. The electric eloquence of the peroration of a speech delivered by him in Conciliation Hall in Dublin in 1846, during the Repeal agitation, caused him to be referred to thereafter as “Meagher of the sword.” His fidelity to the warlike principles advocated in his youth on behalf of Ireland was demonstrated by gallant conduct in many of the bloodiest battles of the American Civil War, and well established his title to high rank among the soldier sons of a fighting race. To tell the story of the Irish Brigade would be to recite the history of the Civil War. It participated rapidly in the Battle of Fair Oaks, May 31st; Gaines Mill, June 28th; Savage Station, June 29th; Peach Orchard, White Oaks Swamp, Glendale, June 30th; and Malvern Hill, July 1st, marching thereafter to Newport News, and proceeding by transports and on foot to Falmouth, Alexandria, Arlington Heights, Falls Church, Fairfax Court House and Centreville, crossing the Potomac at Chain Bridge, and marching to Tenallytown, Rockville and Frederick City, Maryland, crossing South Mountain to Antietam, participating in that battle and leaving two hundred and one of its members either killed or wounded to testify to the character of the resistance offered by these sons of the Gael to the rebel line in front of the “Bloody Lane.” On December 13th the regiment constituting part of Meagher’s Brigade took part in the desperate attempt to carry the impregnable position of the Confederate forces on Marye’s Heights at Fredericksburg. The valor displayed by the officers and men on this memorable day must dwell forever in the memory of mankind. Inspired by the traditions of the old brigades, the brigades of O’Brien, Dillon, Lally, Sarsfield, the brigades of Landen, Ramilles and Fontenoy; aroused by the burning eloquence and encouraged by the intrepid daring of their fearless leader; mindful of the wrongs which exiled them from their native shores; grateful to the free, fair land that welcomed them to home and liberty, there was no danger too great for them to face, no suffering too severe to endure, no odds too overwhelming to encounter. Five hundred and forty-five soldiers of the Irish Brigade fell in that heroic charge in that most bloody quarter of a mile ever dashed over by armed men in the annals of civilized warfare. The testimony of the London Times correspondent will be regarded at least as not coming from an unduly partial source. This is his description of the charge of the Irish Brigade: “Never at Fontenoy, Albuera, nor at Waterloo was more undaunted courage displayed than during those six frantic dashes which the Irish Brigade directed against the almost impregnable position of their foe. That mortal man could have carried the position, defended as it was, seems idle for a moment to believe, but the bodies which lie in dense masses within forty-eight yards of the muzzles of Colonel Walton’s guns are the best evidence of what manner of men they were who pressed onto death, with the dauntlessness of the race which has gained glory on a thousand battlefields and never more richly deserved it than at the foot of Marye’s Heights on the 13th day of December, 1862.” In his official report General Meagher says: “Of the 1,200 men I took into action, only 280 appeared on parade next morning.”

To the achievements of Meagher’s Brigade must be added a reference to the gallant services of the renowned Corcoran Legion, for, in simple justice, all of the regiments composing the Brigade and the Legion must be regarded as branches of the parent tree, the root of which was the old 69th Regiment of ’51, which has continuously flourished so far for nigh a decade more than a full half century. The exchange of Colonel Corcoran as a prisoner of war was effected through the instrumentality of President Lincoln, August 15, 1862, more than a year after his having fallen into Confederate hands, and he was at once commissioned Brigadier General, with rank and pay dating from the day of his capture over a year before. His reception upon his return to the City of New York was most enthusiastic, he having endeared himself to its people, not only by his brilliant and daring actions in the field, but by his heroic conduct in refusing liberty upon the condition that he would not again take up arms in his country’s cause. The Legion was at once organized and was composed of the 155th, 164th, 170th and 69th (subsequently changed to the 182d to avoid confusion) Regiments, New York Volunteers. General Corcoran reported with his command to General John A. Dix, at Fortress Monroe, in November, 1862. The Legion was in active service for nearly three years and participated in many of the bloodiest battles of the war, among them Suffolk, Spottsylvania, Cold Harbor, Reams Station and Port Hudson. Upon these and other fields it served and fought, lavish of blood, reckless of life, mindful only of the honor of the race and the preservation of our glorious Union of States. After Fredericksburg, the remnant of the 69th Regiment continued in the service, fought at Chancellorsville May 3d, 1863, and at Gettysburg July 1st, upon whose historic ground a beautiful Celtic Cross has since been erected by the State of New York as a testimonial of appreciation of the splendid services rendered to the Union cause by the Irish Brigade and of the heroism, sacrifice and patriotism of its members.

After Gettysburg, recrossing the Potomac, the regiment participated in actions at Auburn Ford, Bristow Station and the Mine Run Campaign. By this time it was practically wiped out and returned to New York City January 2, 1864, where it was recruited nearly up to its original strength and returned to the front. On May 4th, crossing the Rapidan, it took part in the Battle of Spottsylvania, May 8, where it met with heavy loss. It was again in action May 27th at Totopotomoy Creek, and at Cold Harbor on June 3d. It later participated in the siege of Petersburg. Colonel Nugent, who had commanded the regiment through the greater part of its long campaigning, was again with it at Hatchers Run, Five Forks, Southerland Station, South Side Railroad, Amelia Springs, Farmville, and down to Appomattox, April 9, 1865.

When General Grant determined upon demanding the surrender of the Confederate forces, the first communication upon this subject was carried by Colonel Nugent to an officer of General Lee’s Army. This famous order was as follows:

“April 7, 1865.

“General:

“The result of the last week must convince you of the hopelessness of further resistance on the part of the Army of Northern Virginia in this struggle. I feel that it is so, and regard it as my duty to shift from myself the responsibility of any further effusion of blood by asking of you the surrender of that portion of the Confederate States Army known as the Army of Northern Virginia.

“(Signed) U. S. GRANT, “Lieutenant General.”

Thus from Bull Run to Appomattox, from the firing upon Sumter to the fall of Richmond, the 69th Regiment was in continuous service, participating in all the decisive battles of a four years’ war unsurpassed in magnitude and fierceness. When mustered out of the service, after passing in the grand review at the National Capitol, May, 1865, with decimated ranks and shattered banners, it could claim the proud record of never having disobeyed an order, of never having lost a flag. In Fox’s Regimental Losses in the Civil War the 69th heads the roll of regiments recruited in the Empire State in the number of killed and wounded.

By Chap. 477, L. 1862, passed April 23, entitled “An Act to provide for the enrollment of the Militia, the organization and discipline of the National Guard of the State of New York, and for the public defense,” the uniformed and equipped militia of the State became recognized as the National Guard. The 69th Militia as the 69th regiment, National Guard, entered the service of the United States in May of that year and served until the September following, when it was mustered out. It was again in the service of the United States for the thirty days between June 25th and July 25th, 1863, and again in 1864, it was mustered into the service of the general government for three months, or until October of that year. Colonel Bagley was in command of the regiment during these years and until February, 1866, when General Martin T. McMahon was selected to succeed him. This distinguished citizen soldier merits more than passing notice. He, with two of his brothers, served with distinction during the great war; one of them—John Eugene McMahon, Colonel of the 164th Regiment, New York Volunteers, Corcoran Legion, died of disease contracted in the service in March, 1863, and the other, James Powers McMahon, who after serving as Lieutenant Colonel of the 155th New York Volunteers, was selected to succeed his deceased brother as Colonel of the 164th. This daring soldier was killed in action at Cold Harbor, June 3, 1864, while planting the colors of his regiment on the breastworks of the enemy, in the midst of a hailstorm of bullets, and performing “as proud a feat of arms” as was ever recorded in history. The following extract of a letter from General Thomas Francis Meagher shortly preceding his death describes in glowing words the heroism of James P. McMahon, at Cold Harbor:

“Next came the news that McMahon—planting his colors with his own hands on the enemy’s works—planting them there with a boldness worthy of the grand soldier name he bore, and which perhaps the recollection of the Malakoff and its Irish Conqueror may have inspired, was stricken down by the bullets he so splendidly defied. Who of the old Brigade—the favorite Brigade of Sumner and Richardson—can forget the dashing, handsome, indefatigable soldier, with his strictly defined features, oftentimes with the enthusiasm, sometimes with the scorn and haughtiness of a true blooded Celt, with a heart for hospitality, with a soul for glory, and scorn and sarcasm for what was mean, and a quick look and blow for what was treacherous—who can forget his fine bearing, erect and graceful, his rare heartiness, the decisive character of his intellect, his high pride, his humor, his physical activity, all those healthy and superior gifts which made him a soldier at the start, and qualified him even in the first hours of boyhood to be a conspicuous exponent of his martial race and kindred—who can forget all this whenever that grand picture of McMahon, planting the colors of his regiment in the face of the fire storm, and foot to foot with the desperate foe, is spoken of in the Camp and by the Survivors of the Irish Brigade of the Army of the Potomac?”

The survivor of these three young Irish American brothers, General Martin T. McMahon, had a distinguished career alike in civil and in military life. He was appointed Captain and Aide-de-Camp on the Staff of General George B. McClellan, October 25, 1861, and on the 29th of October, 1862, became Adjutant and Chief of Staff of the 6th Army Corps, successively commanded by Colonels W. B. Franklin, John Sedgwick, and Horatio G. Wright. He was brevetted Colonel August 1st, 1864, and Brigadier and Major General, March 13, 1865. In civil life General McMahon was most distinguished; he was a member of the Bar of the State of New York, of recognized standing and ability for a great many years, and served as a public officer in the National, State and City Governments with ability and integrity, winning general public approval. He was appointed United States Minister to Paraguay in 1868, and was subsequently Corporation Attorney of New York City, Receiver of Taxes, and in 1885 was appointed by President Cleveland United States Marshal for the Southern District of New York. He served in the Senate and Assembly of the State of New York, and at the time of his lamented death on April 21, 1906, was a Judge of the Court of General Sessions, the highest court of exclusive criminal jurisdiction. His honored remains were accorded soldierly sepulchre in the National Cemetery at Arlington, where thousands of his comrades of war’s dread days rest peacefully, awaiting the trumpet of the resurrection, and over whose arched entrances are engraven the touching lines of the hero-poet:

On fame’s eternal camping ground Their silent tents are spread, And glory guards with solemn round The bivouac of the dead.

A splendid type of an American and a true scion of the stock that has furnished statesmen and soldiers to many lands and had given to the Second French Empire its ablest Marshal, and to the Republic of France a President, whose fame is so universal that a single descriptive word would be superfluous.

General McMahon’s successor was Colonel James Cavanagh, a veteran of one hundred fields, known to many of us and beloved by all, who was retired December 1st, 1893, with brevet rank of Brigadier General, who was followed in command by Colonel George Moore Smith, August 9, 1895, who, on July 1, 1901, was commissioned Brigadier General, and in October following was assigned to the command of the First Brigade of the National Guard.

The breaking out of the War with Spain in the Spring of 1898 afforded another opportunity for the conspicuous display of the spirit of valor and loyalty that at all times animates the officers and men of the 69th. Major General Roe, the commander of the National Guard of the State of New York, at that time was desirous of ascertaining the number of members in the different regiments that could be relied upon to volunteer for service beyond the territorial boundaries of the State, and directed the various regimental commanders to question their officers and men upon the subject. Lieutenant Colonel Edward Duffy was then in command of the 69th, and his answer was immediate and characteristic: “The 69th will volunteer to a unit to serve anywhere that the country might require its services.” Upon his return to the Armory after this interview with General Roe, Colonel Duffy issued Order No. 47, which bears date April 1st, 1898, and contains the following stirring words:

“The Commanding Officer, mindful of the record and traditions of the regiment, rests assured of the enthusiastic support and co-operation of every member, and takes occasion to impress upon all the necessity for the vigorous recruiting of the different companies, so that our ranks may be swelled to full numbers. The example of our heroic predecessors of 1861 should be always before us, and it should be our pride to emulate their glorious conduct if called upon to vindicate the nation’s honor and defend in any quarter the flag of our country.”

The strength of the regiment at this time was thirty-one officers and five hundred and twenty-nine enlisted men. On the 28th of April Colonel Duffy received authority to recruit the regiment to twelve companies of three officers and eighty-one men each, and so rapidly was this work performed, that on the 2d of May the regiment left its armory for Camp Black, Hempstead Plains, Long Island, with full ranks, and was mustered into the service of the United States on May 19th following, on which occasion it was presented with a stand of colors by the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick of the City of New York. Describing the scene of this presentation in The Criterion the distinguished Irish-American dramatist, poet and journalist, Joseph I. C. Clarke,[4] said:

“The deeper notes in the diapason of history vibrate in us, and Irish brigades of other centuries and other lands seem once more enacting their outlined braveries beneath many skies, under many banners fluttering in a breeze as fresh as that blowing cool and damp in our faces now. In a good round voice a civilian orator, Judge Fitzgerald, is telling without oratorical periphrase what the gathering means. His sentences tell clearly that the thousand men before him love the great land of their adoption, the great State that sends them forth and the land that gave them or their fathers birth—a Shamrock of love, he says poetically. As he speaks, flag after flag is unfurled—first the red, white and blue of the Stars and Stripes, eagle crowned; next the white figured flag of the State of New York, and last the green sunburst flag of Ireland, surmounted by a gold pikehead, all brave and beautiful, and each one flapping and whipping from its staff like a great tropical bird first trying its bright wings upon the wind. Cheer upon cheer rises from the crowd, and rolls back as in echo from the regiment. Colonel Duffy salutes, and says briefly that his regiment thanks the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick for their silken gift, and says for his men that they will carry the flags to the war with pride and bring them home without stain. It is all very simple and in proportion touching.”

The regiment left Camp Black, on Hempstead Plains, for Chickamauga, under orders to report to General John R. Brooke, of the United States Army, at that point, and its march through the City of New York on May 24th was a memorable and notable event. The New York Herald of the succeeding day said:

“Not since the stirring days of ‘ ’61’ has New York so thrilled with patriotic fervor as it did yesterday, when the 69th Regiment marched through the city on its way to the front. If they had been battle-scarred heroes of one hundred fights, Colonel Duffy and his boys could not have received a more enthusiastic welcome than that which greeted them. From East to West through the city they marched amid a flourish of flags, and the tramp of their feet was lost in the cheers that roared from tens of thousands of throats. Fifth Avenue and Tenth Avenue united in enthusiasm. Truck drivers and longshoremen did not shout louder than bankers and clubmen, and the fluttering flags in Fifth Avenue were not less numerous than the banners that waived from factories and tenements.”

Sub-joined is a list of the officers composing the Field, Staff and Line of the Regiment as it marched through the City on that bright May day, when, after thirty-five years of peace, the dark shadow of war again clouded the horizon of the Republic.

FIELD AND STAFF.

Colonel—Edward Duffy.

Lieutenant Colonel—Joseph L. Donovan.

Majors—Thomas F. Lynch, Michael J. Spellman, Edward T. McCrystal.

Adjutants—John A. Davidson, May 2–Nov. 19th; Granville T. Emmet, Sept. 21–Jan. 31st.

Quartermaster—James M. Cronin, May 2–Oct. 17th.

Surgeons—George D. Ramsey, Francis L. Oswald.

Assistant Surgeons—John H. Fuchsius, Robert M. Daly.

Chaplain—Rev. William J. B. Daly.

Co. “A”—Michael Lynch, Captain; Patrick M. Harran, 1st Lieut.; William F. Guilfoyle, 2d Lieut.

Co. “B”—Peter W. Maguire, Captain; John J. Henry, 1st Lieut.; Martin L. Crimmins, 2d Lieut.; Martin O’Neill, 2d Lieut.

Co. “C”—John J. Kennedy, Captain; Patrick J. McKenna, 1st Lieut.; Felix McSherry, 2d Lieut.

Co. “D”—James Plunket, Captain; James J. Tuite, 1st Lieut.; Christopher H. R. Woodward, 2d Lieut.

Co. “E”—Michael J. Ryan, Captain; John F. Bolger, 1st Lieut.; John P. Scanlan, 2d Lieut.

Co. “F”—Anthony J. Griffin, Captain; Phillip E. Reville, 1st Lieut.; James H. Little, 2d Lieut.

Co. “G”—John E. Duffy, Captain; Bernard F. Cummins, 1st Lieut.; William J. Costigan, 2d Lieut.

Co. “H”—Daniel C. Devlin, Captain; Timothy H. Leary, 1st Lieut.; William W. Bryant, 2d Lieut.

Co. “I”—Charles Healy, Captain; Patrick J. Mollohan, 1st Lieut.; Daniel P. Sullivan, 2d Lieut.

Co. “K”—Daniel McCarthy, Captain; Francis J. Keaney, 1st Lieut.; Edward P. Gilgar, 2d Lieut.

Co. “L”—Hugh J. Barron, Captain; Francis J. Cronin, 1st Lieut.; William J. P. McCrystal, 2d Lieut.

Co. “M”—John J. Roche, Captain; John P. Devane, 1st Lieut.; Leo F. Rooney, 2d Lieut.

May 27th the regiment arrived at Chickamauga and was attached to the 2d Division of the Third Army Corps, and on May 30th proceeded to Tampa, Florida, under orders to report to General Carpenter, and was assigned to the 2d Brigade, 2d Division, 4th Army Corps. June 5th it was placed in the 2d Brigade of the 3d Division, commanded by General Guy V. Henry, and was sent forward to Fernandina, Florida. The regiment was honored by visits from Governor Black of New York, Governor Shaw of Iowa, and Secretary of War Alger, and took part in the general review of the 4th Corps, at Huntsville, Alabama, September 23, 1898. Impressed with the appearance of the regiment upon this occasion, the Brigade Commander addressed the following note of congratulation to Colonel Duffy:

“My dear Colonel:

“I desire to express my admiration of the magnificent appearance made by your regiment today. The Sixty-ninth is certainly a fine example of the volunteer soldier, and you can well, with your brother officers, feel proud of so efficient a regiment. Promptness is the foundation of all military efficiency; your command was halted in position assigned for the formation for review exactly on time. With best wishes for yourself and splendid command.

“Respectfully, “(Signed) JAMES RUSH LINCOLN, “Brigadier General Vols.”

The regiment remained in the service of the United States until the 31st of January, 1899, on which date it returned home and received a magnificent welcome, significantly demonstrative of the warm affection and pride in which its officers and men were held by the people of the City of New York. On the evening of this day the regiment was honorably mustered out of the service of the United States. Upon its discharge by the general government, the regiment at once resumed its former position in the National Guard of the State.

The cornerstone of the new Armory was laid April 23, 1904, the forty-fourth anniversary of the departure of the regiment for the Civil War. This splendidly equipped building, from a military standpoint, on the west side of Lexington Avenue, between 25th and 26th Streets, was completed within two years. It occupies the entire front on the Avenue, extending in depth over 300 feet, and is provided with every modern requirement. On October 13, 1906, the regiment left its old armory over Tompkins Market, and made its formal entry into its new home, on which occasion it was escorted by the 7th Regiment, the Old Guard, 1st and 2d Batteries of New York, and the 9th Regiment of Boston, that justly renowned Irish-American Military organization of the old Bay State.

At the Dinner given by the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick on the evening of May 20, 1902, in honor of the representatives of the government of the French Republic, at the unveiling of the Rochambeau Statue at Washington, the delegates were escorted by the 69th to Delmonico’s. In response to a toast, Admiral Fournier of the French Navy said: “The 69th Regiment reminded me by its very appearance of a crack French regiment on parade.”

Again on the 17th of March, 1905, the regiment escorted the Hon. Theodore Roosevelt to the 121st Annual Dinner of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick, the first appearance of Mr. Roosevelt at any public function in his native city after his installation in the high office of President of the United States for the term for which he had been elected. In his address upon that occasion President Roosevelt said:

“I wish to express at the outset my special sense of obligation—and I know that no one present will grudge me doing so—my special sense of obligation to Colonel Duffy and the officers and men of the 69th, who were my escort today. I shall write Col. Duffy later making formal acknowledgment to the regiment of my appreciation, but I wish to express it thus fully tonight.”

Colonel Duffy commanded the regiment during the Spanish War and for many years after its discharge from the service of the United States and return to its position in the National Guard of the State. He is entitled to great credit for the energy, industry and persistency with which he labored, happily successfully, to secure for the regiment the new armory into which he had the pleasure of leading it. Colonel Duffy enlisted as a private in Company “E,” June 3, 1867; promoted Corporal May 14, 1868; Sergeant, September 10, 1868; First Lieutenant, March 14, 1871; Regimental Adjutant, December 31, 1874; Major, September 10, 1875; Lieutenant Colonel, March 25, 1896; Colonel, April 13, 1898, and was brevetted Brigadier General August 14, 1903, for long and meritorious service, and after forty-two years of continuous service was retired, at his own request, in 1909, with the rank of Brigadier General, since which time the regiment has been under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Louis D. Conley, a young officer of experience and capacity, who is zealously laboring to maintain the high record of the regiment for efficiency.

A grave injustice has resulted for years owing to the defective records of the Adjutant General’s Office, no mention appearing therein of the services rendered during the Civil War by the 69th Volunteers of the Irish Brigade or of the Irish Legion. These omissions are about being supplied, as appears from the following letters, composing a part of a correspondence upon the subject, and as it is a most interesting matter of recent occurrence, I give them in full as kindly furnished me by the courtesy of Colonel Conley:

“SIXTY-NINTH REGIMENT INFANTRY NATIONAL GUARD, NEW YORK,

“68 Lexington Avenue, “New York, December 17th, 1909.

“LIEUT.-COLONEL CHAUNCEY P. WILLIAMS, ALBANY, NEW YORK.

“My dear Colonel Williams:

“Under date of August 9th, 1909, we forwarded to the Adjutant General, S. N. Y., a summary of the record of the regiment for insertion in the official register, together with a list of engagements for which we requested authority to place silver service rings on our colors.

“Receipt of our communication was acknowledged over your signature on September 3, 1909, and further information was asked in regard to certain engagements, and as to difference in dates of others. We sent the required information through the channel on October 8th, 1909, together with a revised list of engagements, and we have not heard anything further in regard to the matter.

“We would like very much to have the matter adjusted in time to permit of its being included in the official register for 1909, and to have the required authority as to the silver rings published in orders before the end of the year.

“Knowing your familiarity with the subject and feeling that had you remained at General Headquarters the matter would have been favorably acted upon by this time, I am taking the liberty to ask if you would be kind enough to use your good offices with the Adjutant General to have the matter approved before January 1, 1910.

“With best wishes, I am, “Yours sincerely, “(Signed) LOUIS D. CONLEY, “Lieut.-Colonel.”

“HEADQUARTERS DIVISION NATIONAL GUARD, STATE OF NEW YORK, “CAPITOL, ALBANY, December 20th, 1909.

“COLONEL LOUIS D. CONLEY, 69TH REGIMENT, N. G. N. Y., NEW YORK CITY.

“My dear Colonel Conley:

“I have just received your favor of the seventeenth instant, having been on duty in New York City on Friday and Saturday last.

“I have submitted the matter to Captain Reagan, Adjutant General’s Office, who has such subjects in hand, and he tells me that the record has been accepted and will appear in the official register when published, and that the authority for the silver rings will be published in the next General Orders, which cover changes in organization and in which I believe silver rings are generally authorized.

“With best wishes for a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, believe me,

“Yours sincerely, “(Signed) CHAUNCEY P. WILLIAMS.”

A separate silver engraved ring will be authorized to be placed upon the Lance of the National Color for each of the following engagements:

CIVIL WAR, 1861–1865.

Blackburn’s Ford, Va., July 18th, 1861. Bull Run, Va., July 21, 1861. Rappahannock Station, Va., March 28, 29, 1862. Yorktown, Va., April 16, May 4, 1862. Fair Oaks, Va., June 1st, 1862. Savage Station, Va., June 29, 1862. Gaine’s Mills, Va., June 27–28th, 1862. Peach Orchard, Va., June 29, 1862. White Oaks Swamp, Va., June 30, 1862. Glendale, June 30, 1862 (Va.). Malvern Hill, Va., July 1st, 1862. Antietam, Md., Sept. 17th, 1862. Charlestown, W. Va., Oct. 16th–17th, 1862. Snickers Gap, Va., Nov. 2d, 1862. Hartwood Church, Va., Nov. 17th, 1862. Fredericksburg, Va., Dec. 11th–15th, 1862. Deserted House, or Kelly’s Store, near Suffolk, Va., Jan. 30, 1863. Suffolk, Va., April 11th–May 4th, 1863. Chancellorsville, Va., May 1–3d, 1863. Holland’s House, near Carrsville, Va., May 16, 1863. Blackwater, Va., June 15th–18th, 1863. Gettysburg, Pa., July 1–3d, 1863. Auburn Mills, Va., Oct. 14, 1863. Bristoe Station, Va., Oct. 14, 1863. Mine Run, Va., Nov. 26, Dec. 2d, 1863. Wilderness, Va., May 5–7th, 1864. Po River, Va., May 9–10th, 1864. Spottsylvania (angle), May 8–21st, 1864. Landron House, Va., May 18, 1864. North Anna River, Va., May 22–26th, 1864. Totopotomoy Creek, Va., May 27–31, 1864. Cold Harbor, Va., June 1–12th, 1864. Petersburg (Assault), Va., June 16, 1864. Welden Rail Road, Va., June 21–23–26–29th, 1864. Deep Bottom, Va., July 27th–29th, 1864. Strawberry Plains, Va., August 14–18th, 1864. Reams Station, Va., August 25, 1864. Boydtown Plank Road, Va., Oct. 27–28th, 1864. Hatcher’s Run, Va., Dec. 8–9th, 1864. Hatcher’s Run or Dabney’s Mills, Va., Feb. 5–7th, 1865. Skinner’s Farm, Va., March 25, 1865. Crow’s House near Petersburg, Va., March 31, 1865. Hatcher’s Run, Va., March 31, 1865. Siege of Petersburg, Va., June 17, 1864–April 2d, 1865. Sutherland Sta. Boydtown Plank Rd., Va., April 2, 1865. Sailor’s Creek, Va., April 6, 1865. Farmville, Va., April 9, 1865. Appomattox Court House, Va., April 9th, 1865. And for the Spanish-American War, 1898.

Also on the Lance of the State Color for meritorious services, as follows: Quarantine Riots, 1858; Draft Riots, 1863; Fire Island, 1892; Brooklyn, 1895.

I am also indebted to Colonel Conley for the following copy of the Roster of the commissioned officers of the regiment at the present time (January 7th, 1910):

FIELD AND STAFF.

Lieut. Colonel Commanding—Louis D. Conley.

Majors—Michael Lynch, John E. Duffy, Philip E. Reville, F. L. Oswald.

Captains—John J. Phelan, Thomas F. McGuire, William M. Ford, Bernard J. Glynn, John W. Elmes, Thomas J. Barry.

First Lieutenants—Patrick J. Mulcahy, Elwyn G. B. Riley, Felix A. Donnelly.

Second Lieutenants—Percival E. Nagle, Rhinelander Waldo. Chaplain—Rev. James D. Lennon.

LINE.

Captains—Co. “A,” Michael J. Dwyer; Co. “B,” Edmond M. Dillon; Co. “C,” Felix J. McSherry; Co. “D,” John P. Everett; Co. “E,” John J. Scanlon; Co. “F,” Patrick J. Maguire; Co. “G,” Bernard F. Cummings; Co. “H,” W. Clayton Woods; Co. “I,” Charles Healy; Co. “K,’’ William J. Costigan.

First Lieutenants—Co. “A,” William B. Stacom; Co. “C,” T. Harry Shanton; Co. “E,” William E. Morris; Co. “F,” Michael A. Kelly; Co. “G,” Edward Kirkpatrick; Co. “H,” Thomas J. O’Reilly; Co. “K,” James E. Dillon.

Second Lieutenants-Co. “B,” Jeremiah A. O’Leary; Co. “C,” John E. Chicquette; Co. “E,” James L. Doyle; Co. “G,” John E. O’Brien.

Any sketch of the 69th would be incomplete if it failed to call attention to the Veteran Corps, an organization which has always kept in close touch with the regiment and has done much for its welfare throughout all these years. Not many of the heroic followers of Corcoran and Meagher are within its ranks today, but a few, thank God, are still happily left among us. Each year their diminishing ranks are being still further thinned by the inexorable ravages of time. They are but few indeed, and all the more for this reason we delight in honoring them. Brave veterans, may you long be spared to illustrate by your simple lives the virtues of patriotism and courage, and to inspire the soldier sons of the Republic with a desire to emulate your daring and sacrifice. Captain O’Connell, the President of the Corps, has kindly furnished me with the names of the survivors at present upon the roll of those who followed the colors from ’61 to ’65:

Captain James J. Smith. Captain John O’Connell. Captain Garrett Nagle. Captain John R. Nugent. Captain Thomas M. Canton. Lieutenant Richard R. Bermingham. Sergeant John Lonegran. Private John Kevill. Private Thomas Smith. Private Thomas Burns. Private Richard Keyes. Private Richard Finnan. Private Patrick Barrett. Private Charles E. Neilson. Private John Fallon.

For very many years the writer has been favored with the friendship of the 69th Regiment; it has conferred honors upon him, of which he is very proud. He had the privilege of delivering the oration upon the occasion of the laying of the cornerstone of the new armory, and was called upon to preside at the memorable ceremonies attending the formal opening of the completed building. The great consideration at all times shown him will be ever gratefully remembered, and it is his hope that this paper, prepared at the request of the American-Irish Historical Society, may serve in slight degree to perpetuate the well-earned glory of an historic and gallant corps, which we trust may long remain a notable and reliable unit in the military forces of the United States. Neither the elements of social disorder laboring from within to undermine the fabric of our Constitution, nor the international complications possible to arise, by which our people may be subjected to the perils of foreign war, can menace our beloved country with permanent danger as long as the manhood of the Nation is animated by the spirit and courage associated with the history and traditions of the 69th Regiment.

THOMAS JONATHAN (STONEWALL) JACKSON.

A Paper Read at the Twelfth Annual Meeting of the American-Irish Historical Society, January 8, 1910, at Hotel Plaza in New York, by John Louis Sheehan, LL. D. of Boston University School of Law.

In scanning the pages of American history, one pauses at the name of Stonewall Jackson. In imagination the reader goes back more than half a century, to fields of fierce conflict where a nation was drenched in human blood. He hears the cry of the torn and mangled, the roar and shriek of the bursting shell, and when for a moment the flash of cannon clears away the smoke of battle, there is seen the form of one admired by all, the ingenious, the courageous, the redoubtable Jackson.

Nerve and a spirit of independence appears in his great grandmother, Elizabeth Cummins, a woman over six feet tall, who quarreled with her father and left for America, after throwing a silver tankard at his head, while he was keeper of “The Bold Dragoon” in London. On her arrival she married John Jackson, a man of Irish birth. Later on, when young Jackson compared notes, he found that his ancestors came from the same parish in Londonderry as those of President Andrew Jackson. The married couple settled on a farm in northwestern Virginia. It was out of this stock that our hero was born about January 21, 1824.

Jonathan Jackson, the father of Thomas Jonathan, retained little of the mettle of the early pioneers. His health, credit, and fortune were gambled away, and he died leaving his widow and four children to the care of his relatives. Stonewall was three years old at this time. Four years later, called to the bedside of his mother, he witnessed all that was mortal of her pass out of this life.

The orphan went to live with his uncle, Cummins Jackson, who gave him complete freedom in the open air. The boy became a good rider and grew fond of all out door sports. These days spent among remote kin were looked upon by him as the saddest of his life; he never cared to talk about them for this reason. Yet his temper as a boy was cheerful and generous. He had a high regard for truth, and his sense of justice was very strong. He was quick to resent an insult, would never yield to defeat, but when fairly treated was always gentle and kind.

He was eighteen years old when he became a constable of Lewis County. This office he held for a time, though the age required by law was twenty-one. “But since a desire for knowledge had been the passion of his youth,” it is needless to say that he was glad to resign on receiving an appointment to the military academy at West Point. On his arrival at Washington, the congressman from his district, introduced him to the secretary of war, as a young man with a limited education, with “an honorable desire for improvement.” His conversation must have pleased the secretary, for he said: “Go to West Point; and the first man who insults you, knock him down, and have it charged to my account.” The term at the academy having already began, the youth had to hasten to West Point. Before leaving he climbed the roof of the Capitol, and looked out over Washington. Nobody noticed him there, nobody looked for him in that great city; but there came a time when folks did look for him, and when the inhabitants shook at the mere mention of his name; yes, when the mere threat of an attack caused the greatest fear at Washington, and disturbed the whole United States.

It is said that he was a “gawky” youth, with an ill-looking jaw, wearing homespun clothes, when he presented himself to the officers at West Point. His appearance led the cadets to attempt fun at his expense. In a measure they were disappointed. After many trials they decided that the young fellow had come to stay. But Jackson did not make great progress in his studies. He could do the necessary riding and running, but he was slow in his book learning, and always two or three lessons behind his class. He barely got through his mid-year examinations, yet this pass gave him courage, and he studied even after the taps “for lights out.” The end of the first year, however, found him on safer ground.

When his class was graduated at the end of four years, Jackson stood seventeenth among the seventy. The world was to hear of that class later, for in it were many destined for distinguished honors; among them were Generals A. P. Hill, Pickett, Maury, D. R. Jones, W. D. Smith, and Wilcox of the Confederate Army, and Generals McClellan, Foster, Reno, Stoneman, Couch, and Gibbon of the Federal Army. Jackson himself was no longer an awkward boy, for the training and system at West Point had wrought a change which clung to him through life. He was kind and courteous, but not altogether sociable and had only a few good friends.

He was now twenty-two years old, with the brevet rank of second lieutenant of artillery. Our country had already declared war against Mexico, and when his whole class was ordered to the front, Jackson went to New Orleans from whence he sailed to Mexico. General Winfield Scott was there, and Jackson joined his army at Vera Cruz. From this time on, fortune placed him in the centre of the stage. He took part in nearly all the great battles of this war. He was many times mentioned for bravery. At the storming of the Castle of Chapultepec, Captain Magruder recommended him for promotion in the following words: “I beg leave to call the attention of the Major General commanding, to the conduct of Lieutenant Jackson of the First Artillery. If devotion, industry, talent and gallantry are the highest qualities of a soldier, then is he entitled to the distinction which their possession confers.” At once he was brevetted a captain, and a little later made major. It is said “no other officer in the whole army in Mexico was promoted so often for meritorious conduct or made so great a stride in rank.”

On September 14, the American Army occupied the city of Mexico. A garrison was finally left to guard the city, and Jackson spent pleasant days in this life of ease among the Mexican people. He learned their language, and took part in some of their pastimes. It was here that religion grew upon him. He began the study of the differing forms of creeds and service taught by soldier chaplains, Mexican priests, and citizen ministers. The Archbishop of Mexico explained to him the system of the Church of Rome, but Jackson was quite undecided when he had listened to them all, and left his selection to a later day.

In 1848 the army vacated the city. Major Jackson was sent to Fort Hamilton, on Long Island, where two uneventful years quickly passed. He was next ordered to Fort Meade, near Tampa Bay, Florida, where he stayed for six months. A pleasant change awaited him, for he was elected professor of Natural and Experimental Philosophy and Artillery Tactics at the Virginia Military Institute, where he went in March, 1851.

It was at Lexington, where the Shenandoah flows through the “Valley of Virginia,” that Jackson spent the next ten years, teaching the cadets, and very interesting work he found it. He loved every inch of the beautiful grounds, and enjoyed every hour of those days. It was here that he met Doctor White, a Presbyterian minister, in whom he found a congenial “spiritual commanding officer.” After examination of all the creeds, Jackson was baptized “a member of Doctor White’s congregation,” and began straightaway, with a zeal that was all his might, the business of leading a veritable “religious life,” and this life he lived to the letter, as far as it is possible for man to live it in this world. “Every act, it seemed to him, was fit occasion for a prayer,—prayer before he drank a glass of water, in the class-room, a blessing on his scholars, on mailing a letter, an appeal for the person to whom it was sent,—silent prayers in most cases; for there appeared little of the Roundhead in this simple man, who could speak out when he thought it necessary, but shrank from uncalled for show.”

In 1853 Jackson was married to Elinor, daughter of President Junkin, of Washington College. Less than one happy year were they together, for she died in childbirth, and Jackson sank in despair.

There have been many descriptions of this Major Jackson. He is described as being “tall, erect, muscular, with uncommonly large hands and feet, and with a diffident manner of meeting people that was exaggerated by his habitually awkward movements. He walked, it is said, like a dismounted horseman; in the saddle sat loosely, in a kind of slovenly ease, unless, as later, in battle, he was moved by excitement, when his whole body became rigid with martial lines, and he rode with a distinction as imposing, almost, as that of ‘the man on the horse himself.’ The heavy (bearded) jaw, however, was not square, but oval, and Jackson’s eyes, which were large and blue, had a trace of soft light in them not accounted for in this picture of an iron warrior.”

In 1856 Major Jackson visited Europe. He scanned every inch of the “beaten path,” and in gratifying his curiosity went to the Battlefield of Waterloo. While he felt that Napoleon was the greatest of commanders, he was sure that he made an error in choosing the Chateau of Hugomont as the vital point of attack on the British line; it should have been the village of Mont St. Jean.

In this far away land, his thoughts wandered back to the country of his birth, and to a dear little girl he had known before his marriage. He made her his wife a year after his return. They led a plain, simple, Christian life.

Jackson, a keen observer, saw at last the dark clouds of rebellion on the horizon. These signs meant much to him, and, like many another, he was greatly concerned.

Though Jackson took no active part in the secession arguments, he nevertheless came to the definite conclusion that the northern states were using the power of the Washington government for the private advantage of their section, and were seeking to oppress the south. He believed that the Lord had ordained slavery, but apart from this he stood for “the right of the sovereign state.” Said he: “The South ought to take its stand on the outer verge of its just rights, and then resist aggression, if necessary, by the sword,” and when the war came at last, there was no question in his mind on which side he was to fight. He thought of the days under the “Old Flag,” and what those days had been to him; yet after all, he felt that the “act of his state” absolved him,—Virginia was with the Confederacy.

The feeling was now running high in the South. At a meeting of the military academy, where Jackson was called upon to speak, he arose during the cheers of those present, and said: “Soldiers, the time may come when your state will need your services, and, if that time does come, then draw your swords and throw away the scabbards.”

It was on a Sunday morning that Governor Letcher sent the order for Jackson to march his cadets to Richmond. Then he turned them over to his superior officer. Promotions were taking place, commands were given out to some who had had no war experience. He was now getting anxious, when he was about to be sent to the engineers’ department. Friends from his district interfered with such effect that he was given a commission as colonel of Virginia troops, and the command of Harper’s Ferry.

General Beauregard held a position about sixty miles away across the Blue Ridge Mountains. Near Manassas Junction and the Bull Run water, was the Union General McDowell. President Davis received on July 17 Beauregard’s telegram: “The enemy has assaulted my outposts in heavy force—send forward any reinforcements at the earliest possible instant, and by every possible means.” The first Virginia Brigade of Johnson’s army marching with Jackson were reserved in the woods at Bull Run to support the left. McClellan made his first attack on the twenty-first at this point. The battle had waged but a short time, when it looked bad for the Confederate side. Federal troops were rapidly moving to the front of the stream, and the Confederate line gave way. Jackson steadied his men as the Carolina and Georgia troops rushed into the ravine. They listened not to the shouting of their generals, Johnson and Beauregard. The enemy turned to destroy Jackson’s line, and complete their victory, when General Bee cried, “General, they are beating us back.” The deep lines stood out on Jackson’s firm face as he replied, “Well, we will give them the bayonet.” Bee rode up to his men and shouted, “Look, there is Jackson standing like a stonewall.” This rallying cry went through the lines, the men turned and advanced, and Jackson gave the order to charge,—“and yell like fury.” The Federal troops fell back, and this, the first great Confederate victory, was won.

Contrary to custom Jackson did not go into winter quarters at Winchester. He wanted to go ahead. He felt that the duty of a soldier was to seek out the enemy and fight him. This, he said, was the only way to shorten the war. Accordingly he prepared to attack the Federal forces at Bath and at Romney, up in the northwest. But the winter was a severe one, and his men suffered greatly. The way was covered with ice and snow. Thy had to cut through the untraveled roads; the horses could not get a footing on the ice, and two miles a day were all they could make. His men were dissatisfied; others spread the news in Winchester of Jackson’s ill luck, and he was criticised severely. General Loring wrote to Richmond of the danger of an attack on Winchester, and the secretary of war telegraphed Jackson to recall his general. Jackson was displeased at this. He felt on the whole that his campaign was successful. He was indignant at the action of the war department, and, ordering General Loring to return to Winchester, resigned from the army. General Johnson delayed the letter, and wrote to Jackson, approving of the Romney and Bath expeditions. Private citizens petitioned him not to resign, for the Confederacy needed him. The “Governor of Virginia sent a kind of ambassador to treat” with him, and later President Davis refused to consider the acceptance of the resignation, and the governor personally withdrew it. Jackson, with “views unchanged,” remained with his command.

General McClellan had now made up his mind to capture the Confederate capital. General Banks commanded the right wing at Harper’s Ferry. His plan was for Banks to force out all the southern troops from the valley, then fall in with the army before Richmond. McClellan, thinking that Jackson had fled from the valley, drew some of the Banks forces to him. Jackson immediately returned and attacked the enemy at Kernstown, near Winchester. The firing was hot and bloody, and the Confederate troops, under Gannett in the centre, retired from the field, and the whole army fled after them. One-fourth of Jackson’s command was lost, but he was satisfied that the Federal loss was greater than his own, and that the object of the attack had been gained. Banks had to stay in the valley, the regiments which started to join McClellan were recalled, and in the following April, President Lincoln withdrew McDowell’s whole corps to defend the Capitol at Washington.

Jackson’s successful operation had gained much for the cause of secession, and the Confederate government, to help him carry out his plans, determined to let him have all the troops it could spare from the defense of Richmond.

In May, 1862, Jackson found himself at Bull Pasture. On the eighth day Milroy hit the “Stonewall Brigade,” and brought on the battle of McDowell. During the three hours of fighting Jackson lost heavily in killed and wounded. When night came on, the enemy lighting misleading camp fires, retreated under the protection of Freemont. The Federals reported a victory in this battle, and “God blessed our armies at McDowell yesterday,” was the despatch Jackson sent to President Davis. Ewell was immediately sent for, and Jackson started out for General Banks.

On May 23, the Union forces held Fort Royal against him, then fled to Banks, who was on a quick run to beat Jackson into Winchester. Banks won, and planted his batteries on the outskirts of the town. Jackson shelled him, and Ewell’s brigade drove the Federals through the town. Jackson rested here for two days before marching on to Harper’s Ferry. He wanted to invade the North, but Lee insisted that he first help him drive the enemy away from Richmond. When Jackson received word to go back into the mountains where he would be safe he answered: “Give me fewer orders, and more men.” He evidently did not appreciate the danger, for Lincoln had already ordered Freemont to join McDowell and Shields and capture Jackson. A long march was ahead of him, and there was no time to lose. His infantry which was called “foot cavalry,” on account of its reputation for fast marching, had to travel forty miles to Strasburg. Freemont could not reach them in time to do harm. Shields took a wrong road, and could not repair bridges in time to overtake Jackson, who, after a few skirmishes, reached Port Republic for a two days’ rest.

On Sunday, June 8, Shields pierced his lines, and Jackson was almost taken prisoner. Ewell and Freemont began the fighting at Cross Keys. Jackson crossed the stream and joined them. Shields beat him back, and it was only the arrival of Confederate reinforcements that saved the day for Jackson. He made a flank attack, and Shields retreated. The “Stonewall Brigade” now got a much needed rest of five days.

On June 11, General Lee wrote Jackson: “Your recent successes have been the cause of the liveliest joy in this army as well as in the country.” There was no doubt now as to Jackson’s standing as a soldier, and he was admired and loved by his men. This confidence in him is expressed by a song written by one of his soldiers, which carried them many times into victory.

He’s in the saddle now! Fall in! Steady, the whole Brigade! Hill’s at the Ford, cut off!—we’ll win His way out, ball and blade! What matter if our shoes are worn? What matter if our feet are torn? Quick step, we’re with him before morn! That’s Stonewall Jackson’s way.

On June 23, General Lee called to his headquarters for consultation, Generals A. P. Hill, D. H. Hill and Longstreet of the army before Richmond. Jackson was there, after fifty miles of continuous riding during the night. Lee told them of his plan to attack the Federal right wing, and left the details to them. At the end of the discussion Longstreet said to Jackson: “As you have the longest march to make and are likely to meet opposition, you had better fix the time for the attack to begin.”

Said Jackson: “Daylight of the 26th.”

Longstreet said: “You will encounter Federal cavalry, and roads blocked by felled timber, if nothing more formidable. Ought you not to give yourself more time?”

“No, daylight of the 26th,” and Jackson returned to his men. Blunders and mistakes delayed Jackson.

In two days he was at Ashland. He spent the nights following moving about his men, giving orders and praying for his success. Daylight of the 26th did not find him moving, and it was seven o’clock before his army got under way. The generals waited for him, and finally A. P. Hill opened his batteries on Mechanicsville “to hurry Stonewall Jackson on.” The Confederates made an attack on the enemy at Beaver Dam Creek; “but there was no Jackson to turn the Federal right.” The Confederates retreated with terrible loss. Night saw Jackson’s approach. At daybreak the enemy, learning of this, retreated down the Chickahominy toward Gaines Mill and Cold Harbor. Jackson was after them. The firing of the heavy guns told him that the fight was getting hotter. Jackson had gone out of his way, and it was feared that Hill’s command would be shattered before he could arrive, because Longstreet was held back to join with Jackson in the attack. Lee sent word to Longstreet that, unless he could move forward, the day would be lost. At this moment, two of Jackson’s brigades joined Longstreet. Jackson’s men did not seem to find their places. They were disorganized. Jackson, calling Captain Pendleton to him, said: “Go to the line and see all the commanders. Tell them this thing has hung in suspense too long. Sweep the field with the bayonet.”

McClellan, considering himself defeated, marched southeastward toward the James River, under the protection of gunboats. A. P. Hill and Longstreet were sent to head him off. Jackson was to attack the Federal rear. Hill and Longstreet attacked McClellan at Frayzer’s Farm, but Jackson was a day behind the battle, and when he reached White Oak Swamp, the roads were blocked, bridges were burned, and the guns of the enemy were trained upon the fords. He withdrew, and McClellan retreated again when the Frayzer’s Farm battle was over.

Meantime people were asking: “What was the matter with Jackson?” His actions puzzled them. His delays had been costly to the Confederacy. He seemed to be not the same fighter of old. But, as General D. H. Hill said, “Jackson’s genius never shone when he was under the command of another.” He seemed then to be shrouded or paralyzed. The fact was that he was tired and worn out by the wet swamps; the fever and forced marches. Lee’s plans having miscarried, he was now forced to attack McClellan on Malvern Hill. His loss was terrible. When the Federal general withdrew, they were a little easier at the Confederate capitol.

Pope was now in command of the Federal Army of Virginia. It was one of the finest armies that ever faced a foe. Lee sent Jackson to fence with him. Jackson immediately called for reinforcements and rested his horses and men while awaiting a reply. In August, A. P. Hill came to his aid. Pope was now on the Rappahannock. When Jackson moved to attack him, Banks met him with all his strength in the Battle of Cedar Mountain, August 9. Banks seemed to be winning the battle, for the Confederate centre was broken, but Jackson’s supports turned the balance the other way. Jackson wrote to Lee: “On the evening of the 9th inst. God blessed our armies with another victory.” General Lee now joined Jackson at Gordonsville. The Federal Army was at Culpepper Court House. Pope took shelter across the river, and Lee conceived a plan to drive him out. Stonewall Jackson was selected for this work. On the 25th he began the move “in his old-time mystery” across the Rappahannock and marched away from the Federals, turning at right angles in the morning toward the line of the Federal communication with Washington. He passed Thoroughfare Gap, and fell on the enemy’s depot of supplies at Manassas Junction. One of Pope’s despatches, captured the next day, disclosed his plan to concentrate his forces at Manassas. Acting upon this, Jackson advanced and met the enemy on the old field of Bull Run. Jackson held his position in this bloody fight, and when the enemy fell back at midnight, he was content not to follow him.

Both sides were ready at dawn of day. Longstreet just reached the field as Pope with his whole army ploughed the Confederate lines. Lee, now Jackson’s superior, helped win another victory for the South.

The great leader of the Confederate army evidently understood General Jackson. He gave him something to accomplish, then let him alone. He had now something of importance in his mind. It was the capture of Harper’s Ferry. Lee was going to invade the North. The army crossed the Potomac and entered Frederick City. Stonewall Jackson was riding ahead. They occupied the city for several days. Meanwhile the Federal forces were gathering around Washington. The garrison at Harper’s Ferry did not move and Lee on September 10 sent Jackson to assault it. Four days later the white flag was raised over it. The men were taken prisoners, and their arms, ammunition, and supplies came to Jackson’s men. Immediately, he joined Lee at Sharpsburg; he was wanted, for McClellan was at Antietam Creek.

At midnight of the 16th a part of Jackson’s men again became engaged; and when “at the dawn of the 17th, Hooker made his terrible attack on the left of the Confederate battle line, Stonewall Jackson stood in the way.”

The morning sun of this day looked down on a sight that was awful beyond conception. In the corn field at the Dunker Church the men fought and fell, cut down like the corn, in the order in which they were standing. “It was never my fortune to witness a more dismal battlefield,” Hooker wrote. “Terrible carnage,” said Jackson, and as he watched the deadly fire, planned a new attack.

He immediately formed his cavalry to turn the Federal right. “Move your divisions to the front, and attack the enemy as soon as you hear Stuart’s guns,” he said. “We’ll drive McClellan into the Potomac.” But Stuart’s guns were not heard, for the enemy was already on the river. The Federals next pressed A. P. Hill’s division; but he was helped in holding possession by the arrival of the remainder of the troops from Harper’s Ferry. Lee crossed the Potomac, and the final victory was with McClellan. The forces remained for three months in camp.

Jackson was made a lieutenant-general in October of this year. Lee now said of him: “Such an executive officer the sun never shone on. I have but to show him my design, and I know if it can be done, it will be done.”

In December, when Burnside moved toward Richmond, Lee went out to meet him. In the battle of Fredericksburg, Jackson commanded the Confederate right, and resisted every attack. Longstreet held the left in this last victory for the South, in this campaign.

Jackson’s wife and his child came to visit him at Hamilton’s Crossing. To Mrs. Jackson he felt disposed to talk of the war. “We must make this campaign an exceedingly active one,” he said. “Only thus can a weaker country cope with a stronger. It must make up in activity what it lacks in strength.”

On April 29, a messenger drew rein at his door. “General Early’s adjutant wishes to see General Jackson.” Jackson looked out and said: “That looks as if Hooker were crossing.” He was right. When Jackson’s aide notified Lee, the latter remarked: “Say to your good general that he knows what to do. I will join him at the front.” Jackson threw his army against the enemy, who fell back on Chancellorsville.

The war department at Washington had made up its mind that the only thing to be done was to march steadily on to Richmond. Hooker faced the Confederates, determined to smash through their divisions. Lines of telegraph were at his service, signal stations and captive balloons were ready for his use. In the green fields behind him was “the finest army on this planet,” as he himself said. There was no sleep in the Confederate camp on the night of the first of May. Lee and Jackson discussed plans of a circuit around Hooker’s right and an attack on his rear.

“General Jackson,” said Lee, “what do you propose to do?”

“Go around here.” Jackson’s finger moved on the map before them.

“What do you propose to make this movement with?”

“With my whole corps.”

“What will you leave me?” Lee asked.

“The divisions of Anderson and McLaws,” answered Jackson. Lee paused and then said: “Well, go on.”

Jackson saluted, saying: “My troops will move at once, sir.”

Everything was ready, every order was given, when Jackson looked at his watch. It was six o’clock in the evening,—“You may go forward, sir.”

This whole Southern force moved like an avalanche on the unsuspecting Federals, who received a deadly fire from behind.

They ran before the advancing foe. Here and there they took a stand to resist the attack, then on again. Jackson followed them with his pounding artillery. “Press right ahead, press them, press them,” cried Jackson, as he rode by his men.

“You should not expose yourself so much,” said a staff officer as he grabbed his rein.

“There is no danger, sir,” he replied; “the enemy is routed. Go back and tell General Hill to press on.” But Hooker appeared before the right of his men, ordered a stand to be taken, and Jackson was obliged to stop and collect his scattered troops.

But half a mile now divided the Confederate and Federal lines; Jackson’s men were scattered in the dark woods, and were running about, “disorderly as a city mob.” Divisions, brigades, companies, all were mixed. At nine o’clock the “rising moon lit dimly the broken, shadowed spaces of the battlefield.” Jackson and his staff were moving quietly about. He drew rein one hundred yards away and listened. To the North Carolina brigade, they looked like Federal cavalry. The skirmish line fired a few shots towards the staff, then a whole company turned a volley to the front; two officers fell. Jackson struck the spurs to his horse and advanced toward the lines, when a regiment blazed out upon him. His horse jumped and started in the direction of the enemy. The limbs of the trees whipped the face of the rider, and Jackson’s arms fell to his side. He was lifted from his saddle to the ground, and Hill bent over him. “General, are you much hurt?” “I think I am,” said Jackson, “and all the wounds are from my own men.”

The North Carolina soldiers stopped firing, but soon the battle began again. As Jackson was being removed to the rear, he said: “Tell them simply that you have a wounded officer.” But, as he passed, a soldier cried out: “Good God, it is General Jackson!”

When Mrs. Jackson arrived on Sunday morning, May 10, Jackson was very low. She told him he was going to die. He tossed about during the afternoon, and his mind began to be cloudy. In a restless sleep he muttered, “Order A. P. Hill to prepare for action. Pass the infantry to the front.” It was a little later, when he made his famous saying, “No, let us pass over the river, and rest under the shade of the trees.” He spoke no more, but fell into the sleep which knows no waking.

“Could I have dictated events,” wrote General Lee, “I should have chosen, for the good of the country, to have been disabled in your stead.”

It seemed strange that Jackson could die, he had survived danger so long. It was at the closing of his grave on the hill at Lexington that his deep loss was felt in the whole South. “The man was so much needed. He had the mark of victory upon him, and his presence in the fight lent faith to the cause everywhere.” A flower of the South had fallen, never to rise again.

At a dedication of a Jackson monument sometime afterwards in New Orleans, Father Hubert prayed, “God, when thou did’st decree that the Confederacy should not succeed, thou had’st first to take thy servant, Stonewall Jackson.”

Such was the brief career of a poor orphan boy,—of a Christian and patriotic soldier,—of a descendant of an Irish immigrant, “who achieved the last and greatest of his successes in dying for his country. He perished doubly a martyr, and in his last breath attested the righteousness of the cause which he sealed with his blood.”

SOME IRISH CONTRIBUTIONS TO EARLY AMERICAN HISTORY.

Paper read before the American Irish Historical Society, January 8, 1910, at its twelfth annual meeting at Hotel Plaza, New York City.

BY MICHAEL XAVIER SULLIVAN, PH. D.

When in the course of time a new nation has become firmly established and has taken its place among the powers of the world and leisure is afforded men to look back to the early days of their country in an historical way so dear to man’s heart, it is pleasing to the student to find that the race from which he springs has played a prominent part even in the early days of his nation.

It is in such a spirit of pleasure that we find ourselves convinced on making but a preliminary survey of our early history that in the foundation, the creating, the strengthening, and maintenance, of this great republic, the Irish race from which you and I spring has done its duty and has done it well.

In speaking of the part the Irish race has played in this great land I do not intend to indulge in self gratification, nor to give the Irish greater praise than they deserve nor to take from others in extolling those in whom ran the blood that runs in you and me. Every race that played its part in creating the American nation should be given its meed of praise, but in loving our land for what it has been to us and for what it has inspired, we are but the greater patriots in giving just praise to that race from which we spring for its noble duty in the cause of justice and of freedom.

The present paper does not purport to be a detailed study but merely touches on the high points of the Irish contributions to early American history.

In February, 1903, Miss Linehan[5] read a paper before the Connecticut Historical Society. This paper contains an excellent account of the earliest immigration of Irish to this country. From her paper may be quoted:

“The early Irish came to this country in three distinct periods, the first dating from 1621 to 1653, the second from 1653 to 1718, and the third from the latter period to the Revolution.”

It is with the third period that we shall deal for the most part.

In 1737, according to Rev. J. A. Spencer,[6] “multitudes of laborers and husbandmen in Ireland unable to procure a comfortable subsistence for their families in their native land embarked for Carolina. The same writer again, Vol. 1, p. 214, speaking of New Hampshire in 1738, says: “the manufacture of linen was considerably increased by the coming of the Irish Immigrant to this colony.”

“During the whole period of her controversy with Britain,” says Mr. Grahame,[7] “America increased in strength from domestic growth and from the flow of European emigration. No complete memorial has been transmitted of the particulars of the emigration that took place from Europe to America at this period, but (from the few illustrative facts that are actually preserved) they seem to have been amazingly copious. In the year 1771 to 1772 the number of immigrants to America from the north of Ireland alone amount to 17,350, almost all of whom emigrated at their own charge, a great majority consisting of persons employed in the linen manufacture or farmers and possessed of some property which they converted into money and carried with them. Within the first fortnight of August, 1773, there arrived at Philadelphia three thousand five hundred emigrants from Ireland. About seven hundred Irish settlers repaired to the Carolinas in the autumn of 1773.”

Pennsylvania very early had a large Irish colony. In 1699 James Logan accompanied William Penn to his new plantation and became one of the leading men. According to Spencer, Vol. 1, page 186, he was many years colonial secretary and member of the Council. He governed the Colony for two years after the death of Penn’s widow and previously in Penn’s absence. Charles Gookin, a gentleman of ancient Irish family, was governor of Pennsylvania from 1709 to 1716.

According to Grahame, Vol. II., page 84, “In 1729 no fewer than six thousand two hundred and eight European settlers resorted to this Province.” They are thus particularized by Anderson in his Historical Deductions of the Origin of Commerce; English and Welsh passengers and servants, 267; Scotch servants, 43; Irish passengers, 1,155; Palatine passengers, 243. At Newcastle, in Delaware, passengers and servants, chiefly from Ireland, 4,500.

The colony of Maryland was founded in 1634[8] by Cecilius Calvert, with Leonard Calvert as first Governor. Foremost among the Irish families early in Maryland were the Carrolls, all of whom threw their influence on the side of independence and at least three of whom played particularly distinguished parts in the subsequent conflict. The first of them to come to Maryland was Charles Carroll, who was a clerk in the office of Lord Powis in the reign of James the Second and who left Ireland on the accession of William and Mary in 1689. Before he was two years in Maryland he was appointed Judge and register of the land office and receiver of the rent of Lord Baltimore. His son, Charles Carroll, was one of the most prominent men in the colony, whose son, Charles, was a signer of the Declaration of Independence. Charles, the signer’s cousin, John Carroll, a priest of God, was sent with Franklin, Charles Carroll and Samuel Chase in 1776 to secure the coöperation of the French Catholics with the American cause. After the war, Father Carroll became Bishop and Archbishop. Daniel Carroll, cousin of both Charles and John, was one of the foremost members of the first Congress. He was a member of the Continental Congress for four years and a delegate to the convention that framed the Constitution of the United States. His farm formed a part of the site of the present City of Washington. Associated with him in Congress was Thomas Johnson, whose grandfather, also Thomas Johnson, came from Ireland in 1689 with Charles Carroll, the founder of the Carroll family in Maryland. He was three times Governor of Maryland, Chief Judge of the General Court of Maryland and Justice of the United States Supreme Court.

In regard to South Carolina[9] Ramsay says, Vol. I., page 20, “Of all other countries none has furnished the province with so many inhabitants as Ireland. Scarcely a ship sailed from any of the ports that was not crowded with men, women and children.” Among the prominent men of Irish origin were the Moores, Rutledges, Jacksons, Lynches, Polks, Calhouns, who distinguished themselves as patriots and statesmen.

Speaking of Kentucky, H. Marshall[10] says: “John Finley explored Kentucky in 1767 and circulated accounts and descriptions which Boone authenticated and enlarged.” Finley was the pilot of Boone in 1769. No permanent settlements were made in Kentucky till 1775. According to Marshall, page 13, in this year, a few permanent settlements were made, particularly at Harrodsburg and at Logan’s Camp, later called St. Asaphs, and at Boonesborough, named after Boone, the leader of the first colony to the bank of the Kentucky River.

Associated with Boone in his hazardous labors we find Michael Stoner.

Logan, after whom the Camp was named, was of Irish parents, and was among the earliest settlers of Kentucky. He was a man of prominence. On page 42, Marshall says: “The names of Mrs. Denton and Mrs. McGary and Mrs. Hogan are worthy of mention, they being the first white females who appeared with their husbands and children at Harrodsburg.” Speaking of Mr. McGary he says: “For enterprise and daring courage none transcended Major Hugh McGary.” Others were Butler, McLellan and Hogan, all Irishmen, pioneers and among the first to explore the country beyond the Ohio. In the wars with Indians, Butler, Bulger and Logan were especially prominent.

The Massachusetts Bay Colony legislated against the Irish of all creeds and in 1720 ordered them out. “As early as 1632,” however, as may be read in Haltigan’s “The Irish in the American Revolution,” we find mention of Irish in Boston. In an old legal document of that year an Irishman named Coogan is described as the first merchant of Boston. Miss Linehan, previously referred to, says: “In 1718 a petition was sent to Governor Shute of Massachusetts by three hundred and twenty leading Irishmen, among whom were ministers, asking permission to settle in the State. The same year one hundred and twenty Irish families arrived in Boston and brought with them the manufacturing industry of linen and also introduced the use of potatoes. There was not a town incorporated from that time on but what contained the descendants of those men or of those who followed them directly.”

“In 1730 the First Presbyterian Irish Church was founded in Boston.”

The Boston Irish Charitable Society was founded in 1737 on St. Patrick’s Day.

James Sullivan, son of Owen Sullivan, the emigrant from Limerick and brother of General Sullivan, represented Massachusetts in Congress in 1788 and was later Attorney General and Governor of Massachusetts.

That the Irish were fairly plentiful in Boston in pre-revolutionary days is well brought out by Cullen.[11] He found that among the earliest records there appeared such distinctly Irish names as Cogan, Barry, Connors, McCarty, and Kelly.

In the register of births, marriages and deaths in Boston from 1630 to 1700 there was, according to Cullen, over two hundred entries of names distinctly Irish and probably many others just as certainly Irish, but not so entered. Under Cromwell’s government many Irish people were sent to New England. In 1654 the ship “Goodfellow,” Captain George Dell, arrived in Boston with a large number of Irish immigrants that were sold into service to such of the inhabitants as needed them. This service was only temporary, to pay for the expense of transportation.

During the two years, 1736–38, ten ships are on record as coming to Boston from Ireland with a total of nearly one thousand passengers.

On the rolls of Bunker Hill are very many purely Irish names.

“In New Hampshire,” writes John C. Linehan,[12] “as early as 1631, according to military records, the first representative of the Emerald Isle made his appearance in the person of Darby Field, an Irish Soldier.” According to the same writer, in Vol. I., “Provincial Papers,” 1641 to 1660, are found such names as Duggan, Dermott, Gibbon, Vaughan, Neal, Patrick, Buckley, Kane, Kelly, Brian, Healey, Connor, MacMurphy, Malone, Murphy, Corbett, McClary, McMillen, Pendergast, Keily, McGowan, McGinnis, Sullivan and Toole. Later records show that the Irish were very numerous in the early days in New Hampshire, even long before the settlement of Londonderry.

Londonderry, New Hampshire, was settled by Irish Presbyterians in 1719. Few settlements were more prosperous. In the process of time, according to Barstow, in his “History of New Hampshire,” page 130 (1853), the descendants of the Londonderry settlers spread over New Hampshire and Vermont.

Barstow speaks of them as Scotch, but as quoted by Linehan, p. 66, Rev. James McSparran, an Irish Protestant Clergyman of Rhode Island, writing in 1752, referring to the New Hampshire settlement, says: “In the province lies that town called Londonderry—all Irish and famed for industry and riches.”

In Maine, we may mention among the early Irish, the five O’Brien brothers, of Machias, including Captain Jeremiah O’Brien, who fought and won the first sea fight with the British. O’Brien’s exploits are well described by the Rev. A. M. Sherman in “The Life of Captain Jeremiah O’Brien of Machias, Maine.” Owen Sullivan, the father of Gen. John Sullivan and of James, Governor of Massachusetts, arrived at Boston, 1723, and settled in Berwick, Maine, about 1730. Being of an excellent education, he was a teacher in Berwick, Maine, and Somersworth, N. H. Several of the highest grade families of Massachusetts are descendant from Owen Sullivan.

The Irish have always been an upbuilding part of the population in New York. In O’Callaghan’s “Documentary History of New York,” as shown by M. J. O’Brien,[13] are found men named Gill, Barrett, and Ferris, settlers and Indian fighters in New Netherlands in 1657, and in 1673 Patrick Dowdall, John Fitzgerald, Benjamin Cooley, Thomas Basset, L. Collins, and Thomas Guinn were enrolled in the militia.

In the census of the City of New York in 1703, appear such names as Mooney, Dooley, Walsh, Carroll, Dauly, Corbett, Coleman, Curre, Kenne, Gilley, Gurney, Mogan, Buckley, etc., all with an Irish ring. In 1733 many others of clearly Irish origin are mentioned. In the muster roll of the militia of New York City in 1737, are such Irish names as Welsh, McDowell, Ryan, Mooney, Hayes, Donlon, Gill, Murfry, Magee, Kelly, Sutton, Farley, Sullivan, McMullen, O’Brien, etc.

John Anderson of Dublin was high in the affection of the old Dutch settlers of Beverwycks, now Albany, as early as 1645, as shown by Danaher in “Early Irish in old Albany,” N. Y., 1903. He is mentioned in the old Dutch records: “Jans Andriessen de Iersman van Dublingh,” and as an instance of his popularity he is affectionately referred to as Jantie or Jantien, meaning Johnnie or little Johnnie. As shown by the same writer, many Irishmen were early prominent in Albany.

Thomas Dongan, the son of an Irish baronet, governed New York in 1683. During his administration he did much to encourage education. He was a Catholic, tolerant of all forms of religion. In 1687 he promulgated the “Declaration of Indulgence,” which authorized public worship by any sect and abolished all religious qualifications for office.

In a work entitled “Names of Persons for whom Marriage Licenses were Issued by the Secretary of the State of New York previously to 1784,” compiled by Gideon J. Tucker (when Secretary of State), page after page looks more like a record of the province of Munster than of the province of New York. “It is quarto volume,” says O’Brien, “printed in small type and there are eleven pages devoted to persons whose names commence with Mac and three to the O’s. Nearly every name common to Ireland is here represented.”

Between 1600 to 1775, many Irishmen were teaching in the Colonies. Of these I may mention a few. In 1640, William Collins in New Haven; Peter Pelham, in Boston in 1734. Robert Alexander is justly regarded as the founder of Washington and Lee University; Rev. Francis Allison of Donegal, Ireland, came to America in 1735. In 1752 he took charge of an educational institute in Philadelphia and became vice provost and professor of moral philosophy in the College of Pennsylvania in 1755. Rev. Samuel Finley, native of Armagh, Ireland, was president of the College of New Jersey in 1761. Michael Walsh came to America in 1792. He was a teacher in an academy at Marblehead, Mass. Among his pupils was Joseph Storey of the United States Supreme Court. Harvard conferred a degree upon him. In 1737, John Sullivan taught school at Somersworth, N. H. William Donovan, an Irish schoolmaster, kept a grammar school in the town of Weare, N. H., in 1773. Humphrey Sullivan was a school teacher of Exeter, N. H. Darby Kelly taught school in New Hampshire, etc. Bishop Berkeley, author of “Westward the Star of Empire takes its course,” came from Kilkenny to Newport, R. I., in 1729. He donated to Yale College an excellent collection of books.

At the opening of the revolutionary era, the whole Irish race threw its weight into the colonial scale. The Irish Commons, according to T. D’Arcy McGee in “The Irish Settlers in America,” refused to vote forty-five thousand dollars for the war. The Irish in England, headed by Burke, Barrè, and Sheridan, spoke and wrote openly in defense of America. The Irish in France were equally zealous. Counts MacMahon, Dillon, Colonel Roche-Fermoy, General Conway, etc., held themselves ready to volunteer into the service of America and afterwards at the desire of the American agent in Paris did so.

John Barry was the first Commodore of the American Navy. He was in many actions and was always successful. He has been called by naval writers “The father of the American Navy.” The first prize carried into the United States was a British ship captured by Captain O’Brien and brought into Marblehead.

Charles Thompson, an Irishman, was secretary to the first Continental Congress. He wrote out the Declaration of Independence from Jefferson’s draft. Mr. John Dunlap, a native of Strabane, Ireland, issued in 1771 the Pennsylvania Packet, the first daily paper published in America. He was printer to the Convention of 1774 and to the first Congress, and was the first who printed the Declaration of Independence.

Nine of the signers of the Declaration of Independence were of Irish origin: Secretary Thompson, Thornton for New Hampshire, James Smith for Pennsylvania, George Taylor, Pennsylvania; George Read, Delaware; Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, Maryland; Thomas Lynch, of South Carolina; Thomas McKean, a signer for Pennsylvania; Edward Rutledge, of South Carolina. Six of the thirty-six delegates to the Convention for ascertaining the Constitution were Irish: Read, McKean, John Rutledge, Pierce Butler, of South Carolina, Daniel Carroll and Thomas Fitzsimmons. The site of Washington is partly on the farm of Daniel Carroll, a cousin of Charles, the signer, and was presented to Washington by him.

As regards the Continental Army it may be said that Mr. George Washington Parke Custis, the adopted son of Washington, says in his Personal Recollections, that Ireland contributed to the Continental Army one hundred to one of any nation before the coming of the French. Among the French, as is well known, there were many Irish. Others have put the number of Irish in Washington’s army as high as fifty per cent. Since I have not been able to get original records regarding the Irish in the Revolutionary army I shall leave the question with the statement, supported by fairly wide reading on the subject, that to put it conservatively a very large number of the soldiers were Irish, or of Irish origin, as were many of the officers. The question of the Irish, composition of the army of the Revolution is being considered and an investigation of the muster rolls is being made by one of our members, so that in the near future the Irish contribution in this regard will receive an unquestionable verification.

The Friendly Sons of St. Patrick was founded at Philadelphia in 1771, where Catholic, Presbyterian, Quaker, and Episcopalian were united like a band of brothers. It was composed of the most active and influential men. The devotion of its members to the cause of freedom was acknowledged by Washington in a letter to the President of the Society where he described the Society as “distinguished for the firmness of its members to the glorious cause in which we are embarked.” Of the Society seven were generals in the Revolutionary army. Wayne, Stewart, William Thompson, Knox, Irvine, Hand, and Moylan, the latter being the first President of the Society. This Society rendered material assistance to the necessities of the army. At a time when everything depended on a vigorous prosecution of the war it was found impossible to arouse the public spirit of the Americans. In this emergency was conceived and carried into operation the plan of the Bank of Pennsylvania, established for supplying the army of the United States with provisions for two months. Ninety-three individuals and firms subscribed and the amount realized was three hundred thousand pounds. Of this twenty-seven members of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick subscribed one hundred and three thousand five hundred pounds.

John Sullivan and John Langdon, in 1774, seized the military stores at Fort William and Mary at the entrance of the Harbor of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and thus enabled the so-called rebels to fight the battle of Bunker Hill.

Richard Montgomery, who was born in the County of Donegal, Ireland, was the first general of the Continental Army to fall.

It is quite evident, even from the present surface survey of the part played by the Irish early in our history, that the Irish took a prominent part in the settlement of the original thirteen colonies. It seems strange, but yet it is true, that there is a paucity of recognition of the splendid services of the Irish emigrant on the part of some historians. Irish may be met with, however, everywhere in the early records. By hardy pluck and upbuilding, energy and sterling personality they made their way even in the face of prejudice and bigotry which were occasionally met with.

At the present day men of the Irish race and Irish ancestry are at the forefront in many lines of human endeavor, as might easily be shown by the quotation of names and achievements. I feel that in this glorious land of promise we have our eyes on the ideal and are ever improving, ever growing, doing our duty as we go, and leaving the world better, not only by deeds done and tasks performed, but better still by the cheering word and hearty sympathy, by the shedding of radiant happiness and buoyancy of spirit about us as the Irishman has been wont to do in all times and in all climes. We Americans of Irish descent can hold our heads high in the spirit of things done, in the fairness of our natures and the purity of our motives, seeking pure justice and asking but the favors that in all charity we give to others.

THE IRISH IN THE EARLY DAYS OF ST. LOUIS.

BY REV. CORNELIUS F. O’LEARY OF WELLSTON, MO.

“Quae regio in terris nostri non plena laboris?”

If our Mantuan bard could have looked into the not very distant future he would have beheld a people immeasurably more cosmopolitan than the Trojans, and infinitely more deserving of the above proud boast. Having in mind the scattered children of the Gael, could he not ask with greater truth: “What land on earth has not borne witness to our toil?”

Who has not heard of the military adventures of the ancient Gael pursuing his conquering march to the very walls of Rome and dictating to its proud citizens humiliating terms of surrender? It was on one of these occasions that a Roman general complained of the severity of the fine when the intrepid Gael added to the scale by placing thereon his sword, uttering the Vae Victis of the Conqueror.

Abandoning the course of horrid war, which is hell let loose, the men of Erin turned their minds and hearts to Christianity. The land became dotted over with churches and monasteries until the very place became Religion. Then a beautiful chapter opens to us—the exodus of Irish missionaries to foreign lands—to England and Scotland, to Germany and France, to Belgium and even Italy, in allusion to which Darcy McGee remarks that the sun rises in the West and sets in the East—“Ireland enlightens Rome by the light derived from Rome”—

But the flight is far too long; Weak the wings of worldly song; David’s muse alone could rise To a theme of such emprise As to give in long array Those who in that happiest day Bore on faith’s bright flag unfurl’d Erin’s name throughout the world.

Then came a dark night which brooded over the land, and Erin’s sons were forced to emigrate to France and Spain and finally to America, that Greater Island, by which name she was known ten centuries ago.

To pursue the history of the Irish in America is the pleasing and fruitful task set before the members of this grand society, and so I hope I am in harmony with its spirit and aim if I essay to trace the footsteps of the Irish in the early days of St. Louis.

By the Treaty of Paris 1762 New Orleans and Upper Louisiana became the property of Spain. The Kings of that country sent Antonio de Ulloa, Viceroy of Louisiana, to establish Spanish authority here in 1767. The French did not at first take kindly to Spanish domination, and so the gentle Ulloa is ignominiously expelled from New Orleans. Spain, in its anger, turned to an Irish officer in its military service, Count Alexander O’Reilly, who soon brought the French of Louisiana to see the folly of resistance. Count O’Reilly was born at Baltrassna, Co. Meath, Ireland, A. D. 1722. He had seen much service in European wars, chiefly under the flag of Spain. The following list of his titles shows the prominence he attained in military life: Don Alexander O’Reilly, Commander of Benfayon of the Order of Alcantara; Lieutenant-General of the armies of His Most Catholic Majesty, Inspector General of Infantry, and by Commission Governor and Captain-General of the Province of Louisiana. Promoted to be Field Marshal, he was subsequently sent to Havana, which he newly fortified and strengthened, and later was sent in June, 1768, to recover Louisiana. Though never having set foot in St. Louis, he is credited with having outlined its governmental policy.

In the year 1804, when the formal transfer of Louisiana occurred, we find mention of John Mullanphy’s arrival in the village of St. Louis. Born in 1758 near Enniskillen, Co. Fermanaugh, Ireland, John Mullanphy entered the Irish Brigade in the service of France at the age of twenty. At its dispersion, on the imprisonment of Louis XVI, Lieutenant Mullanphy returned to Ireland, and in 1789 married Miss Elizabeth Brown. Three years after this Mr. and Mrs. Mullanphy, with one child, sailed for America, landing in Philadelphia, which became their home for a time. They next resided in Baltimore, where they formed the acquaintance of Rev. John Carroll, afterwards the first bishop of America, between whom a strong friendship took root. Remembering the lines of Berkeley, “Westward the star of Empire takes its way,” our citizen of the world turned towards Kentucky, where he established his home in 1798. While here his home in Frankfort became the stopping place of the early Catholic Missionary, and the temporary chapel of the scattered children of the Church. In 1804 Mr. Gratiot coming to Frankfort, his acquaintance with Mr. Mullanphy grew into closest friendship, which led our hero to move to St. Louis, where he was appointed Justice of the Peace. Here fortune smiled upon him, but he was not the man whom riches could corrupt. He made to himself friends of the Mammon of Iniquity, and so filled his life with noble deeds. In 1827 he settled upon the Ladies of the Sacred Heart twenty-four arpents of land, adjoining the village, today worth millions, on which was a brick house, and gave them ready money for its necessary furnishings. The condition of this bequest was that the Sisters should care for and educate in perpetuity twenty young orphan girls. Mr. Mullanphy assisted in establishing an orphan home for boys. He likewise founded a home for aged and destitute widows, and, assisted by Bishop Rosati, brought out the Sisters of Charity—the spiritual daughters of St. Vincent de Paul—to take charge of a hospital, the first of its kind in St. Louis, which is now called by his name. Besides his never-failing daily charities, he in times of scarcity gave sums of money to the bakers to furnish bread to the hungry poor, and when the cholera was raging employed a young physician, Dr. Henry, to visit the sick throughout the surrounding country. Mr. Mullanphy died in St. Louis in 1833. His only surviving son, Bryan, was also remarkable for his great charities. In November the 14th, 1845, Judge Bryan Mullanphy was chairman of the Committee of Catholic gentlemen who founded the first conference of the St. Vincent de Paul society in the New World. He also established an immense fund for the relief of emigrants on their way to settle in the West.

The next Irishman who figured prominently in the early history of St. Louis was Mr. Jeremiah Connor. He came to St. Louis in 1805. He was the third sheriff of that city, appointed by Governor Wilkinson in 1806, serving as such for four years and acting also as collector and treasurer. He laid out Washington Avenue, one of the finest streets of the city, through the center of his private property, which he generously relinquished to the city without consideration. When Bishops Flaget and Dubourg came to St. Louis in 1818, the latter to establish his Episcopal residence there, Jeremiah Connor donated a thousand dollars towards his reception. Later he gave the bishop the site afterwards occupied by the Jesuit Church and College, known as the St. Louis University.

Another son of the Emerald Isle, a man of ability and prominence, was Joseph Charless, Sr., who was born in Westmeath in 1772. Being implicated in the Irish rebellion in 1795, he fled to France and thence to America in 1796. After a few years’ stay in Philadelphia he removed to Louisville, Ky. He came to St. Louis in 1808, where he established the first newspaper west of the Mississippi River—the Missouri Gazette, the name being afterwards changed to Missouri Republican when under the management of his son Edward in 1822. It continues to this day under the name of the St. Louis Republic.

Alexander McNair, born in Pennsylvania of Irish parents, was the fourth sheriff in St. Louis, succeeding Jeremiah Connor in that office. During the war of 1812 he raised a company of Mounted Rangers of which he was elected the captain. In 1816, when Congress established a land office for the St. Louis district, he was appointed by President Madison the first register of the same, and held office four years until he was elected, in 1820, the first governor of the state.

Quite a large number of Irish settlers came to St. Louis, rowing their own boat down from Pittsburg, and reaching St. Louis early in 1809. The leaders were John McKnight and Thomas Brady, who had formed a co-partnership in the east. They opened a store at once, and being enterprising, intelligent men, the house of McKnight & Brady was not long in acquiring prominence, and soon became extensively known for its enterprise and public spirit. In 1816 they erected a double brick house of two stories, which was opened as the Washington Hall—the seventh brick house in St. Louis, and the first built for a hotel, in which, on the twenty-second of February, 1817, the first observance of Washington’s birthday, west of the Mississippi, took place by a public dinner presided over by Gov. William Clark, brother of Gen. George Rodger Clark, styled the Hannibal of the Revolution, who were of Irish descent. Mr. Brady died October, 1821. The Rt. Rev. Bishop Dubourg officiated at the funeral obsequies. Mr. Brady’s father-in-law was John Rice Jones, then chief justice of the Supreme Court of the state.

We may form an idea of the strength of the Irish contingent in early history when we read of the following annals: 1818, Feb. 9—Erin Benevolent Society. A meeting of Irishmen to form a benevolent society was held at the house of Jeremiah Connor, Thomas Brady, Chairman, and Thomas Hanly, secretary. A committee of five: Jeremiah Connor, James McGunnegle, John Mullanphy, Alexander Blackwill and Arthur McGinnis, were appointed to frame resolutions. Adjourned to meet Tuesday, 24th inst., at 10 o’clock a. m., at the house of Thomas Brady.

1819, October 10—At meeting of Irish citizens held at the house of Jeremiah Connor at which he presided, and James Nagle, Esq., acted as secretary, adopted a constitution for the Erin Benevolent Society and adjourned to Thursday 21.

October 21—Met pursuant to adjournment and proceeded to the election: Jeremiah Connor, president; Thomas Hanly, vice-president; Hugh Ranken, treasurer; Laurence Ryan, secretary; Thomas English, James Timon, Robert N. Catherwood, Joseph Charles and Hugh O’Neil, standing committee; and John Timon, Robert Ranken and Francis Rochford, visiting committee.

1820, March 17—The first observance of the day in St. Louis by a procession of the society and a dinner at which a number of toasts and sentiments were drunk.

Another historic character of Irish birth was Col. Luke E. Lawless, who came to St. Louis in 1816. He was born in Dublin in 1781. He was called to the bar in 1805. In 1810 he passed over to France and entered the French military service under his uncle, General William Lawless. He was appointed military secretary to General Clark—Duc of Feltre,—and promoted to a colonelcy. On the return of Napoleon from Elba he read the address of congratulation from his regiment to the Emperor. After the final defeat of Napoleon, in 1815, he came to the United States, and adopted his former profession of law. Governor Dunklin appointed him Judge of the circuit of St. Louis. He died in 1846.

Another honored name of the early days is that of Charles Chambers, who was born in Dublin, in 1784. His father, John Chambers, was one of the oldest stationers and publishers of that city. He was a member of the Society of United Irishmen, and was arrested in that memorable year, 1798. He accompanied to New York, Thomas Addis Emmet, Dr. McNevin and Dr. Cummings. Charles Chambers came to New York in 1803. In 1817 he married Jane, the third daughter of John Mullanphy. We find him in St. Louis in the spring of 1819.

The Ranken brothers, Hugh, Robert and David, were born in Londonderry, Ireland. They emigrated to America, remaining in Philadelphia for some time. We find two of the brothers engaged in business as early as 1819, the third brother, David, arriving as late as 1850. They had been very successful in business.

In 1818 we find Capt. James McGunegle, a member and one of the founders of the Erin Benevolent Society, appointed Deputy Quartermaster-General for St. Louis. He purchased the Territorial Bank of St. Louis, which he held until his death, in 1822. He was buried with military honors by the St. Louis Guards.

About this time there came to America from gallant Tipperary a lad of twenty, named Edward Walsh, Sr. He came to Missouri, where he soon made his mark as a man of surpassing ability and indomitable courage. He turned his attention to many of the great utilities of this progressive age—from the mining industry to the construction of great lines of railroads, and from street car projects to the banking business. It may be truly said of him that he was a vital force in the life and development of St. Louis and entitled to be numbered among the city’s founders and promoters. He left a family of four sons and two daughters, who added to the lustre of his name.

James Tomon came to St. Louis in 1819. He was a man of superior character. His eldest son, John, became the much beloved bishop of Buffalo, N. Y.

Dr. James O’Fallen, born in Athlone, Ireland, served as a surgeon in the Continental Army under Washington. His wife was Frances Clark, the youngest sister of General George Rodger and William. Dr. O’Fallen died in Louisville in 1793, leaving two sons, John and Benjamin. In 1811, John O’Fallen, then twenty years of age, fought under Col. Davies at the battle of Tippecanoe, where he was severely wounded. While connected with the army he won much distinction. He settled in St. Louis, of which he became one of her most prominent and public-spirited citizens. He died in 1865.

The Morrison brothers were among the most noted of the early Americans of our territorial days, remarks Billon. They were of Irish origin and settled in and around St. Louis, and even at the present day their descendants are men of influence in Missouri and Illinois.

We find a Patrick Walsh, from the Town of Sligo, in St. Louis in 1820. Having been a merchant, he was commissioned by the governor a justice of the peace for the Township of St. Louis.

Patrick Dillon, from Londonderry, came to the United States in 1809. We find him engaged in the mercantile business in St. Louis as early as 1817. He laid out several additions to St. Louis, and one of the streets is named in his honor.

Patrick K. Dowling, a Waterford man, came to St. Louis in 1817. One of his sons, Richard, who died not many years ago, was a very interesting personage. He possessed a rich fund of historical reminiscences.

Thomas Hanley, who was the first secretary of the Irish Benevolent Society, came to St. Louis in 1816. He was a merchant.

John Finney and his family came to St. Louis about the year 1818. He and his sons acquired prominence and position in social and mercantile life.

Arthur McGinnes, born in County Antrim, Ireland, came to St. Louis in the year 1818. He was a young lawyer of considerable ability and force of character. He pushed his way to the front, attaining much social prominence. He removed to Washington, D. C., about the year 1840, where he continued to reside until his death, in 1848.

William Higgins came with his wife and family from Ireland to St. Louis in 1820. His youngest daughter, Winifred, married a Mr. Patterson. She became noted in later years for her princely gifts to charity. She deserves to have her name perpetuated in marble and bronze.

James Nagle and Hugh Johnson came to St. Louis in 1820. “They were two young Irishmen of good education,” remarks our annalist. They carried on a successful mercantile business for many years. After the death of Mr. Johnson, in 1825, Mr. Nagle entered into the practice of law.

And thus did the exiled children of Erin come to this Key City of the Mississippi Valley to grace every sphere of life. There is one sphere to which I have not alluded—that of the sanctuary. And here let me mention the illustrious name of Most Rev. Peter Richard Kenrick, who was born in Dublin in 1806, ordained for that diocese in 1832, and soon changed the field of his labors for America at the earnest solicitation of his illustrious brother, Francis Patrick, Archbishop of Philadelphia. Bishop Rosati of St. Louis, desiring a coadjutor, his choice fell on this brilliant young Irish priest. He was consecrated coadjutor-bishop of St. Louis in 1841.

DANIEL MORGAN—ABLE TRIBUTE TO THE MOST UNIQUE FIGURE IN THE ANNALS OF AMERICAN COMMONWEALTHS.

An address delivered before the Society, copy for which was received too late for publication in Vol. VIII of the Journal.

BY HON. JOSEPH T. LAWLESS, NORFOLK, VA.

Mr. President and Fellow Members:

By the grace of your invitation, I have the honor of addressing this Society a second time. With the invitation was coupled the admonition that I should devote myself to the subject which our distinguished President has just announced. Deeply distrusting my ability to discharge the commission to your entertainment and within the limitation of time the occasion prescribes, but taking courage from your desire to have recorded the facts of unwritten history as they affect the objects of this organization, and relying upon your patience to hear, though your interest should wane, I have come tonight in obedience to your summons to speak of the most unique figure in the annals of American Commonwealths. The place of his birth unknown even to himself—his parentage wrapped in an oblivion which he steadfastly refused to penetrate—a farm laborer in the Valley of Virginia in 1755—a teamster in the British army in the French and Indian war—he advanced without the aid of adventitious circumstances to the command of an army of his compatriots and fought and won at the Cowpens the battle which made possible the triumph at Yorktown!

All this, indeed, did Daniel Morgan. But he did more. He conquered his own weaknesses, and scorned the allurements of unworthy preferments. He overcame the excesses of youthful appetite; he flouted the proffered temptations of a commission in the royal army of Great Britain while a ragged prisoner of war amidst the snows of Quebec; and in the hour of his subsequent glory on the field at Saratoga, he disdained the persuasions of Gates to join the “Conway Cabal” and remained loyal to Washington and to the liberties of his country.

With his lineage unknown, his birthplace unestablished, his advent unheralded, and his history but sparsely written, no man can speak with certainty of the race from which he sprung. But if there be aught distinctive in racial characteristics; or aught indicative in that accent of human speech which makes the Irish brogue sound as music on the ear, Daniel Morgan was of that race which has ennobled Celtic history, and the lullaby which first soothed him into sleeping was the crooning of a mother’s voice that spake the Irish tongue. But, my countrymen, whatever his lineage and wherever the place of his birth, tonight, on the one hundred and twenty-fifth anniversary of his greatest battle, when we have assembled in New York’s banquet hall to honor his memory and to make better known a renown which should be as firmly established as the liberties of his country, we may well pause to trace the course of those wonderful activities which have no parallel in Revolutionary lore.

The earliest, and perhaps his sole biographer, James Graham, declares he was of Welsh extraction, and that he went to Virginia from the banks of the Delaware. This declaration is based on a manuscript prepared for the biographer by Dr. William Hall, of Winchester, who knew General Morgan in his lifetime and attended his bedside during his last illness. The uniform refusal of Morgan to discuss his parentage and the resultant uncertainty which surrounds his racial extraction, entitle such a statement on the part of a person who was his friend in life to consideration and respect. But I submit a statement of another person who knew him during life to substantiate the belief which exists in Virginia that he was of Irish blood.

The grandmother of Colonel Charles Triplett O’Ferrall, a late Governor of that Commonwealth, lived near and knew Daniel Morgan. During a close association at Richmond, Governor O’Ferrall frequently told me anecdotes of him which he learned from the lips of his grandmother, who in her early life saw much of Morgan and was present at his funeral. In reciting some of these anecdotes the Governor would imitate the Irish brogue which appeared to distinguish the accent of Morgan. Born within a few miles of Morgan’s home, O’Ferrall lived in the Valley all his life and for twelve years represented that District in the House of Representatives of the United States. Three times in that body he introduced a bill having for its object the erection of a monument to mark the grave of Morgan. No citizen gave more thought to the personality of the man and his career as a soldier than did Governor O’Ferrall. In his published memoirs he closes the last chapter with a tribute to him and expresses the hope that some successor in Congress from the Valley District will be able to persuade Congress to mark his lowly grave. “I had set my heart on its passage,” he says, on page 358; “every emotion of my soul was aroused in its behalf. I had carefully studied the hero’s life and character and it read like a romance to me.” Concerning Morgan’s brogue, he could not have been misinformed by his grandmother. Res ipsa loquitur. Himself of Irish extraction and as game a cavalryman as ever drew a blade, who can doubt that it was because of the blood that ran in Morgan’s veins, scarcely less than his services to his country, that impelled O’Ferrall to so interest himself in his career?

When about the age of seventeen, in the year 1753, a tall, raw-boned boy, calling himself Daniel Morgan, “turned up” near the village of Winchester in Virginia. There was nothing about him to excite the good opinion of those frontiersmen, except his willingness to work. He had scant acquaintance with the three R’s. His writing was barely legible; his reading, painful to everybody who heard—especially to himself; his knowledge of the simplest principles of arithmetic, was small; his manners were rude; and his conversation so unpolished as to class him with the humblest order of men. The only occupation he understood was that of a land-grubber and rail-splitter, and it was at these hard tasks that he sought employment. He found it. And such was his strength and his industry that no man engaged Daniel Morgan to clear a piece of new land or to split white-oak rails for a snake-fence and ever regretted his contract! Within a year he became a wagoner for Nathaniel Burwell, Esquire. In a little more than two years his industry and thrift enabled him to purchase a wagon and team of his own; and then—a forerunner of the Wells Fargo—he established an express between the Valley and points beyond the Blue Ridge, east of the Range.

As his fortunes improved, there came improvement in his mind. His manners, too, changed. The raw-boned boy of seventeen had developed into the man of twenty-one, and with the development came a reputation for great physical strength and a courage that was dauntless—great virtues, always, on the frontier. With these qualities he coupled a natural wit, a quick intelligence, a manliness, and a frankness of manner which won the admiration of his sturdy neighbors.

When Braddock landed his army on the upper banks of the Potomac to make good the claim of his sovereign to the fertile region west of the Alleghanies, Morgan became a teamster with the ill-fated soldiers and accompanied the baggage train of the Second Division. In 1756 he was sent to Fort Chiswell with a wagon-load of supplies. It was while at this post that he received the terrible beating on his bare back which would have cost a less hardy man his life. A British lieutenant insulted him by striking him with the flat of his sword and was immediately stretched senseless on the ground by a blow from the teamster’s fist. A drum-head courtmartial sentenced him to receive five hundred lashes. He was forthwith stripped and tied to a white-oak tree. At the end of the castigation his flesh hung in tags. But his spirit was unbroken and King George was never forgiven for the cruelty his soldiers then inflicted.

When he arrived at about the age of twenty-three, he was a strikingly handsome man. In height, he was upward of six feet; his frame was massive and symmetrical; and, without carrying an ounce of superfluous flesh, his weight was two hundred pounds. But his conduct was not exemplary. He became at this time a trencherman of distinction. Yet so powerful was his constitution he was able to bear excess of liquor without becoming entirely under its influence. As a card player, he was as skillful as the most skillful, and he used his talent to add to his estate. So great was his prowess at fisticuffs and so constant his engagements thereat, that the little town of Berryville in the County of Clarke, where these combats were always held, is called “Battletown” to this day by the older residents of the Valley.

This, indeed, was the most unpromising time of Daniel Morgan’s life. To most of the vices which end in ruin, he was addicted. But, in the Providence of God, he was not overwhelmed. Grave faults, indeed, he had in plenty; but they appear to have proceeded, not from a depraved heart but from the rollicking, devil-may-care nature of a young frontiersman. Without parents to advise or friends to admonish, his bold wayward spirit was conscious of no restraint when impulse impelled it to action. What he needed to round the man was adventurous enterprise—dangerous commissions! The dash within him—the spirit of command—needed war. And, war came! Like Hotspur, he must have blows and “pass them current, too.”

First it was “Lord Dunmore’s War” for the protection of the frontier against the Indians under Chief Logan and Cornstalk. General Andrew Lewis, an Irishman born and thirteen years of age before he left Ireland for Virginia, was ordered to raise four regiments in the Southwestern counties; and while Lewis was organizing his forces, Morgan, now holding a commission by grace of William Nelson, Esquire, President of His Majesty’s Council and Commander-in-chief of the Colony and Dominion of Virginia, took the field under Major Angus McDonald. He became at once an active factor. His splendid judgment, his knowledge of woodcraft, his understanding of the Indian character and their methods of warfare, his boldness and his courage, soon distinguished him among his comrades in arms as a man fit for leadership.

“Lord Dunmore’s War” ended with the defeat of Cornstalk at Point Pleasant and Morgan’s command turned homeward. When they reached the mouth of the Hockhocking, those stupendous events which had been happening in England and the Colonies during their absence became known to these Virginians, fresh from the wilderness. They learned that the Parliament of Great Britain had ordered the port of Boston to be closed. They were informed that the General Assembly of the mother colony had protested against such despotic legislation. They were told with solemn voices that representatives of the people were then assembled at Philadelphia to consider ways and means to resist the encroachments of the crown. And then and there, amidst the solitude of that wilderness, far from the outposts of civilization, Daniel Morgan and his band of liberty-loving Virginians resolved upon their course. “Upon hearing these things,” he wrote in an all-too-inadequate sketch of his military services, “we, as an army victorious, formed ourselves into a society, pledging our words of honor to each other to assist our brethren of Boston in case hostilities should commence.” I need not ask you New Englanders tonight how well they kept that pledge!

On the 22d day of June, 1775, by a unanimous vote of the Committee of Safety of Frederick County, he was appointed to command one of the two companies of Riflemen which the Continental Congress had ordered to be raised in Virginia. “In less than ten days after the receipt of his commission,” says Graham, “he raised a company of ninety-six young, hardy woodsmen, full of spirit and enthusiasm and practised marksmen with the rifle. John Humphreys, who was killed in the assault on Quebec, was his first lieutenant. William Heth, afterwards a Colonel, who greatly distinguished himself in the subsequent events of the war, was his second lieutenant. His ensign was Charles Porterfield, afterwards a Colonel, and an officer who by his many brilliant and daring achievements had earned a proud name among the defenders of his country, and was rapidly rising to distinction when he fell in the bloody field of Camden. A finer body of men than those who composed his company are seldom seen. One that rendered better service, or that shed a brighter lustre on the arms of their country, never had existence.”

In twenty-one days, Morgan, at the head of this company, each Rifleman wearing a cap with the legend “Liberty or Death,” marched a distance of six hundred miles to Boston, and when the roll was called every member of the command was present and ready for duty.

He was now come for the first time on that broader field of action in which he won a renown which will never die. It is not my purpose to dwell on the hardships of that extraordinary march into Canada led by Arnold. The sufferings endured by the Americans in the midst of the snow’s and ice of the Canadian winter are beyond the power of human speech to depict. Half-clad, bare of foot or shod only with moccasins, half-starving, with their comrades in arms dropping in their weary tracks to die—such sufferings could only be endured by men whose natural hardihood and love of country could not be overwhelmed by the agonies of physical torture. At intervals, some helpless hero would be overcome by the hardships of the march and tenderly laid aside to die, with a single devoted comrade to hunt for a squirrel or jay or to gather wild herbs for his food, the while he watched his expiring breath and caught the last whispered message of affection for the loved ones at home. Morgan himself was dressed in a costume similar to that of an Indian. He wore leggings and a cloth about the middle. His thighs were bare and their laceration because of it was painfully obvious. But he appeared to be impervious to pain. Judge Henry, who was a member of the expedition, in his “Campaign” describes Morgan at this time as being “a large, strong-bodied personage”—“with a stentorian voice”—“whose appearance gave the idea history has left us of Belisarius.” Those high qualifications for command, which became more and more distinguished as the war progressed, manifested themselves on this occasion. He led the vanguard. And in eight weeks’ time he penetrated an unexplored wilderness for six hundred miles and stood ready with his Riflemen to assault the fortified walls of gun-fringed and snow-crowned Quebec.

If the fame of Daniel Morgan as one of the most intrepid of soldiers depended alone on his conduct at the storming of Quebec, it would live as long as the heroic deeds of the Revolution are remembered of men. At the height of a tempest in which the blinding snow was driven with terrible effect, in the early hours of the first day of the New Year, 1775, the assault began. Armed with scaling-ladders and spontoons, as well as rifles, Morgan’s men, with their captain at their head, were first over the walls. With a sublime courage and a voice which rang above the roar of the tempest he commanded his men, and they, with a devotion as faithful as it was unquestioning, obeyed. Into the heart of the town they fought their way. But, alas, the brave fellows were not supported. The disastrous results of the assault—the wounding of Arnold at its commencement, the death of Montgomery, the brave, while leading those sixty heroes from New York, and the capture of Morgan, of the lion’s heart—are tales of devotion which every American schoolboy knows and which were so extraordinary as to become the subject of public eulogy in the Commons of Great Britain. With “the flower of the rebel army,” Morgan was “cooped up” in the town. His half-starved and poorly clad men were all but frozen in the terrible northeast storm. Their eyes could not endure the hail; their faces were “hoar with frost” and weird with pendant icicles; their rifles were practically useless. Finding himself alone with a few of his men and a sprinkling of brave Pennsylvanians, and confronted in a narrow street by his massed enemies, he resolved to cut his way through. The attempt was madness itself. At last, he stood at bay with his back to a wall. With tears streaming down his face, he refused to surrender and challenged his enemies to come and take his sword. A hundred muskets were levelled at his breast, when several of his men begged him to resist no further. Denouncing his enemies as cowards, he acquiesced in the importunities of his followers, but refused to surrender his sword to any person save a noncombatant priest who chanced to be near.

The heroism of the Americans in this assault attracted the admiration of the world. Frederick, of Prussia, praised Montgomery as a military chieftain. In the British Parliament, Barrè, Montgomery’s veteran friend and comrade in the war with France which annexed Canada to the crown, “wept profusely,” in extolling his virtues and the bravery of his men. Edmund Burke pronounced him a hero and his men brave patriots. Lord North, in reply for government, cursed the virtues of the Americans and denounced them as rebels. “The term rebel,” retorted Fox, “is no certain mark of disgrace. The great assertors of liberty, the saviors of their country, the benefactors of mankind in all ages have been called rebels. We owe the constitution which enables us to sit in this house to a rebellion.” And North was silent!

It was during his confinement in “The Seminary,” following his capture, that Morgan was tempted by the British to desert the cause of his country. Had he been made of common clay he might have yielded. He was half-naked; the few garments he wore were in tatters; he was a thousand miles from home; he was a prisoner of war with no prospect of release. But beneath the ragged hunting shirt of this nobleman from the Virginia forests beat a heart as full of loyalty as of love for his country. The polished and generous Governor-General, Sir Guy Carleton, knew of his wonderful courage in the assault. Through the mediation of a subordinate, he tendered Morgan in delicate and diplomatic language “the commission, rank and emoluments of a colonel” in the British Army. “I hope, sir,” was his disdainful reply, “I hope, sir, you will never again insult me in my present distressed and unfortunate situation by making me offers which plainly imply that you think me a scoundrel.”

On the 10th day of August, 1776, the prisoners of war in Quebec were released on parole, and a month later landed from the transports at Elizabethtown Point. General Washington gave Morgan a flattering reception. His high qualifications as an officer had become known throughout the army, and the Commander-in-chief desired to avail of his talents at once. From the Heights of Harlem, on the 20th day of September, 1776, General Washington addressed a communication to the President of Congress urging the appointment of Morgan to succeed Colonel Hugh Stephenson of the Rifle Regiment lately ordered to be raised. He stated “his conduct as an officer, in the expedition with General Arnold last fall, his intrepid behavior in the assault on Quebec, when the brave Montgomery fell, the inflexible attachment he professed to our cause during his imprisonment, and which he perseveres in,” all entitled him “to the favor of Congress.” After his release from his parole, Congress acted on the recommendation and Captain Morgan became “a Colonel of the Eleventh Regiment of Virginia in the army of the United States.” Before the year 1776 closed he was once more in the field of active operations.

He was ordered northward with a regiment of his own recruiting to check the ravages of the Indians attached to Burgoyne’s army. During that ever memorable campaign under Gates, Morgan and his men were in the thick of every engagement until the capitulation of the British at Saratoga. “Sir, you command the finest regiment in the world,” was Burgoyne’s outburst to him when they were introduced after the surrender. And in his “Review of the Evidence taken before the House of Commons,” in which Burgoyne’s conduct was a subject of investigation, in speaking of Morgan’s regiment having driven the British light infantry from the field and attacked them in their entrenchments, Burgoyne remarks: “If there can be any person who, after considering that circumstance and the positive proof of the subsequent obstinacy of the attack on the post of Lord Balcarras, and various other actions of the day, continue to doubt that the Americans possess the quality and faculty of fighting (call it by whatever term they please) they are of a prejudice that it would be very absurd longer to contend with.”

That is honorable testimony from an able adversary of the part Morgan bore in those momentous days. And yet the name of Morgan was omitted from the official account of the surrender which he did so much to compel. The reason was not far to seek and is now well-known. Again—this time on a triumphant field—did the innate nobleness, the loyalty and love of country of Daniel Morgan overcome the blandishments of the tempter and scorn his proffered preferments. General Gates sought to persuade the honest woodsman to join him and his co-conspirators in the “Conway Cabal,” which had for its object the promotion of Gates over Washington. He refused. Had he yielded, his name would have blazoned the dispatches announcing the capitulation. When Gates had concluded his request, the frank and honest soul of Morgan was aflame with indignation. “I have one favor to ask of you, sir, which is never to mention that detestable subject to me again; for under no other man than Washington as commander-in-chief would I ever serve.”

Vain was the attempt to ignore the services of Morgan and his regiment in the campaign against Burgoyne! The omission of his name by Gates in the dispatches should be supplied by the mighty pen of his grateful countrymen, and writ large, in letters of gold, upon the imperishable annals of the Republic. His enemies paid homage to his gallantry. An incident occurred at this time, as related by Lee in his Memoirs, which illustrates the resentment of Gates towards Morgan and demonstrates how unworthy and undeserved was his malice. Shortly after the rejection by Morgan of General Gates’ proposition to join the “Conway Cabal,” Gates gave a dinner to the principal officers of Burgoyne’s army. The principal officers of the American army were also present. But Morgan was not invited. Having occasion to seek an interview with General Gates before the entertainment was concluded, the British officers, observing the noble mien and soldier-like carriage of Morgan and that he wore the uniform of a field officer, made inquiries concerning his identity immediately upon his withdrawal. When informed that he was Colonel Morgan, of the Rifle Regiment, they arose to a man, and overtaking him in the road severally introduced themselves and declared their admiration for his bravery and skill as a commander.

After the surrender, Colonel Morgan, by express command of General Washington, marched southward to join him. The commanderin-chief was then operating on the Hudson and in New Jersey and Pennsylvania and was anxious to avail himself of the remarkable talents of Morgan, whose Rangers were now become the elite rifle-corps of the army. To follow him in all of his engagements while under the immediate command of Washington would prolong this address beyond the limitations which patience and the conventions prescribe. No undertaking having for its object the success of the American cause was too hazardous, no service too difficult for him to perform. It was during this period that developed those intimate personal relations between Colonel Morgan and General Lafayette which continued through life and which is affectionately manifested in the correspondence of the polished Marquis with his unaccomplished friend. In a letter from Fishkill, November 28, 1778, Lafayette, in thanking Morgan for the friendship and good opinion he expressed for him on the eve of his departure for France, said: “Both are extremely dear to my heart; and I do assure you, my dear sir, that the true regard and esteem and the sincere affection you have inspired to me, will last forever.

* * * * *

“Farewell, my dear sir, don’t forget your friend on the other side of the great water, and believe me ever,

“Your affectionate, “LAFAYETTE.”

But while he was held in the highest esteem by his superior officers and had rendered extraordinary services to his country, Congress ignored him in dispensing its favors and continued to promote over his head men of smaller talents who had friends at court. Finally he determined to resign. Not even the influence of Washington, once his mind had been formed, was powerful enough to dissuade him from his purpose. Early in July, 1779, he presented a laudatory letter from Washington to Congress and offered his resignation. It was accepted, and the war-worn hero mounted his horse and rode homeward to the verdant valley of the Shenandoah. Greatly was his departure regretted in the army. In a letter to him dated “Haverstraw, Nov. 9, 1779,” General John Neville, then an officer in Woodford’s brigade, said: “Then, say they, for old Morgan a brigadier, and we would kick the world before us. I am not fond of flattery; but I assure you, on my word, that no man’s ever leaving the army was more regretted than yours, nor no man was ever wished for more to return.”

For fifteen months he remained with his family, a close student of passing events in the progress of the war. The attention of the British was now directed towards the South and Morgan was filled with apprehension by the preparations being made to bring it under British subjection. Leading three thousand fresh troops from New York, Cornwallis had arrived near Charleston to take command in that section. So rapid and effective were his operations that on the 12th day of May, 1780, when he was ready to assault the town by land and water, General Lincoln signed a capitulation of the city and surrendered his army. By the end of June, the British commander was able to report that he had put an end to all resistance in South Carolina and Georgia; and that in accordance with his plan of operations, he would after the September harvest reduce the province of North Carolina, continue his march to the Chesapeake, and from that base conquer the province of Virginia.

Disregarding the wishes of Washington, Congress on the 13th day of June unanimously named General Gates, instead of General Greene, to succeed Lincoln in command of the Southern Department. It proved to be one of the saddest blunders of the war.

In receiving this independent command, Gates was instructed to report directly to Congress and not to the commander-in-chief. He was authorized to appoint his own staff-officers; to address himself directly to Virginia and to the States north of it for supplies; and to engage his army in such manner for the defense of the South as his judgment alone should approve. Ambitious as Lucifer, and vain by nature, this mark of great distinction—bestowed in spite of the known opinion of Washington concerning its unwisdom—gave Gates unlimited confidence in his abilities. Miscalculating the fighting strength of his “grand army,” two thirds of which consisted of raw militia from the various provinces that had never been paraded together, he marched against the best disciplined troops in the world, led by Cornwallis, at Camden, and suffered a defeat which demoralized the entire South, deprived him of his command and terminated his military career. “Two thirds of the army ran like a torrent,” he wrote, forgetting to add that he ran with them and did not quit running until he arrived, ahead of the fleetest of the fugitives, at Hillsborough, North Carolina, two hundred miles away—making the distance in the splendid time of three and one half days!

At this juncture, Cornwallis was the most conspicuous figure in the British Army in America. Already “the pride and delight” of Lord George Germain, his successes vindicated the opinion which that minister entertained of his military talents, and he was now designed by the Cabinet to supersede Clinton as commander-in-chief—being considered “the one man on whom rested the hopes of the ministry for the successful termination of the war.” Proud of this favoritism on the part of the Cabinet and conscious of the hopes and expectations of the King, Cornwallis began preparations for his northward march. Success had elated him. He believed he would swing from victory unto victory until he had brought all of the people south of the Delaware again under the dominion of the crown.

He began the work of subjugation by inaugurating a reign of terror not excelled in point of barbarity in the annals of civilized warfare. After his victory at Camden, he erected a gibbet, and began the summary and indiscriminate execution of those among his prisoners who had formerly received their parole. He gave stringent orders to his subordinates to imprison all who refused to enter the British Army and thus became the instrument of their own subjection. The confiscation of property and the destruction of life assumed hideous forms. “South Carolina,” says Bancroft, “was writhing under the insolence of an army in which every soldier was licensed to pillage, and every officer outlawed peaceful citizens at will.” The gold and silver plate and other valuables divided amongst the victors at the fall of Charleston amounted in value to a million and a half dollars, the dividend of a major-general alone being four thousand guineas. Cold-blooded assassinations by men holding the King’s commission, often in the presence of the wives and children of the helpless victims, were frequent. No engagements by capitulation were respected. Woodsmen in their rude cabins were suddenly surrounded and put to death, not because they were in arms against the King, but because they were not in arms for him. The tomahawking in June, 1777, of poor Jane McRae by one of the two Indians in the British service who were escorting her under British protection from Fort Edward, New York, to her expectant betrothed in the British lines, and who quarreled over the reward promised for her safe arrival, found a fitting complement three years later in South Carolina when Colonel Tarleton, of His Majesty’s service, personally beat the wife of a general officer of the Continental army because of his activity in the cause of his country. Equalling this villainy, Lord Rawdon, one of Cornwallis’ commanders on the Santee, who had found great difficulty in forcing his Irish Regiment to fight against the American patriots, issued an order dated July 1, 1780, in which he said: “I will give the inhabitants ten guineas for any deserter belonging to the volunteers of Ireland and five guineas only if they bring him in alive.”

To the disgrace of the ministry of Lord North, these practices were not only known to but were approved by the Cabinet. Indeed, they met the “hearty and repeated applause” of those charged with the conduct of the war, Germain declaring in orders to Clinton that “no good faith or justice is to be expected from them and we ought in all our transactions with them to act upon that supposition.”

Such was the temper of the British and such was the condition of the people of South Carolina when Cornwallis moved forward.

The army was in three divisions—the main body under Cornwallis, at Camden; Tarleton’s Legion, at Winnsborough; and the Brigade of Provincial troops under Major Ferguson, at Post Ninety-Six. It was at this time that Morgan again took the field. The defeat of Gates at Camden had stirred his patriotism to its very depths. In the distress of his country he buried all resentment of the ill-treatment he had received from both Gates and the Congress—the hardy warrior again drew his sword. And Gates with his pride humbled and his heart filled with humility by adversity, desiring to retrieve his fallen fortunes, resolved upon giving Morgan an independent command. The British began their march in the second week of September—a delightful season in the southern clime, perhaps the loveliest of the year. The earlier cereals had yielded to the sickle, and the sheaves, standing like mute sentinels in the field, had been bound by the reapers. The maize was nearly ripe. Supplies for the troops were plentiful. Indeed, the proud Cornwallis had no thought of care for his army that did not dissolve in the kindling prospect of glory and renown.

In the opinion of Bancroft, the ablest British partizan officer at that time in America was Major Patrick Ferguson, in command of the left division of the army. He was ordered to enlist as he passed northward, the young loyalists who had fled to the mountains for security and those fugitives whose love of plunder would find indulgence and protection under the British standard. House-burners and assassins, plunderers and wrongers of women and children, were massed in his command. But neither Ferguson nor his desperate troops were fated much longer to pillage, burn and kill. At King’s Mountain, on the 7th day of October, the backwoodsmen from the Virginia mountains, the commands of Isaac Shelby and John Sevier, the men from North Carolina under McDowell and Cleaveland—all by common consent under the command of the redoubtable Virginian, William Campbell, a brother-in-law of Patrick Henry—every man armed with his own rifle and riding his own horse, determined to avenge the wrongs which they and their kinsmen had suffered at the hands of the British troops. A bloody battle was fought and Ferguson was pierced through the heart. His entire command was captured.

Six days after this event, on the recommendation of Thomas Jefferson, Governor of Virginia, and John Rutledge, the great chief magistrate of South Carolina, Congress appointed Daniel Morgan a Brigadier-General in the army of the United States. The news of the death of Ferguson and the surrender of his army at King’s Mountain reached Cornwallis on the march from Charlotte to Salisbury. The destruction of one-third of his army, at a single blow, and the death of his ablest commander were reverses as stunning as they were unexpected. His fears were at once aroused for the safety of the posts in his rear, now being constantly menaced by Marion and Sumpter.

He first halted. Then he retreated. Determining to reinforce his army, before resuming his march, with the three thousand men under General Leslie at Portsmouth, Virginia, he ordered that officer to join him by way of Charleston. He recrossed the Catawba and posted himself at Winnsborough on the 29th day of October, intending to await the coming of Leslie. On the 4th day of December, 1780, General Nathaniel Greene succeeded General Gates in command of the American army in camp at Charlotte. And now began the series of stirring events which culminated in the most remarkable and surprising battle of the war and the destruction of the second division of Cornwallis’ proud army.

The whole American force at this time did not exceed two thousand men, only eight hundred of whom were regulars. It was an army almost entirely devoid of necessary equipment. It had no tents and few wagons; it was badly armed and its supply of ammunition was short. Its men were almost naked, with not more than three days’ provisions in store. General Greene’s orders, under these circumstances, were as necessary as wise—he determined to divide his force into two bodies and post them on the right and left flanks of the British. Under his own command, the main body was to occupy a position on the Pedee River; while a detachment under General Morgan was to operate between the Broad and Pacolet. The detachment under Morgan consisted of five hundred and eighty men in all—three hundred and twenty-eight light infantry, two hundred Virginia militia and about eighty cavalry. They were put in motion on the 20th of December, 1780, for the country between the rivers I have just named. Greene offered him wagons. He refused them as being incompatible with the nature of light troops. When Cornwallis learned of Morgan’s movement, he misinterpreted it to mean an attack on the British post called Ninety-Six. On the 2d day of January, 1781, Cornwallis addressed this familiar note to Tarleton, which is indicative of the close personal relations existing between the parties to it, as well as the wholesome respect they had for Morgan:

“DEAR TARLETON: I sent Haldane to you last night, to desire you would pass Broad River with the legion and the first battalion of the 71st as soon as possible. If Morgan is still at Williams’, or anywhere within your reach, I should wish you to push him to the utmost. I have not heard, except from McArthur, of his having cannon, nor would I believe it, unless he has it from very good authority. It is, however, possible, and Ninety-Six is of so much importance that no time is to be lost.

“Yours sincerely, “CORNWALLIS.”

Tarleton promptly obeyed these instructions and was soon in possession of sufficient information to warrant him in assuring Cornwallis that Ninety-Six was in no immediate danger from Morgan. He then conceived and proposed to Cornwallis the plan of operations against Morgan which ended in the celebrated battle which we commemorate tonight and immortalized the name and fame of the big raw-boned boy with the Irish brogue who came to the Valley of Virginia in 1755 “out of the land of God-knows-where”!

That plan contemplated a joint movement against Morgan on the part of Tarleton and Cornwallis by which they would compel him “either to fight, disperse across the mountain or surrender.” It was at once approved. Cornwallis sent Tarleton a reinforcement of two hundred and fifty men and on the 7th of January put the main body in motion to act in conjunction with him. On the 16th day of January Cornwallis reached Turkey Creek. Filled with anxiety lest Greene should attack and defeat the troops under Leslie, and having no doubt that the dashing Tarleton with his superior numbers would defeat Morgan if he overtook him, Cornwallis determined to await at Turkey Creek until General Leslie joined the main army. It was a fatal decision. Not more than twenty-five miles away was about to be enacted the tragedy to the British arms, in which a rude and untutored genius, commanding undisciplined woodmen half-naked and half-starved, was matched against an educated and accomplished officer in command of regular troops greater in number, well-fed, well-conditioned, and as thoroughly disciplined as any troops in the world. The beginning of the end of British authority over American soil was at hand.

Through his superior system of scouts and their knowledge of woodcraft, Morgan was always thoroughly informed of the movements of his enemies. The orders of General Greene required him to hold his ground as long as he possibly could and not to dispirit the inhabitants by a retreat unless it were a necessity to save his troops from destruction or capture. But the time had now come for him to retire in haste before the British or to give battle to Tarleton before Cornwallis could join him. With a noble confidence in his troops, Morgan determined to fight. He made his camp on the night of January 16, 1781, two miles from a grazing-ground for cattle known as the Cowpens, sixteen miles from Spartansburg, South Carolina, and five miles from the North Carolina line. The news that he had determined to give battle to Tarleton was received by his men with exclamations of joy. He knew the enemy’s strength was superior to his own—that the British infantry embraced twice his number and the cavalry three times the little force under his command. He knew the advantage of the British because of their artillery. But he was unafraid. Against the superiority of numbers, he placed the skill of his riflemen and their zeal to punish an enemy who had wantonly inflicted upon them and their kinsmen and kinswomen personal wrongs of the most grievous character. But above all, he placed their love of country and a willingness to die in its defense.

“The night before the battle,” says Major Thomas Young in Orion, Vol. III., page 88, “he went among the volunteers, helped them to fix their swords, joked them about their sweethearts, and told them to keep in good spirits, and the day would be ours. Long after I laid down, he was going about among the soldiers encouraging them, and telling them that the ‘Old wagoner would crack his whip over Ben (Tarleton) in the morning, as sure as he lived.’ ‘Just hold up your head, boys,’ he would say, ‘three fires and you are free! And when you return to your homes, how the old folks will bless you and the girls will kiss you for your gallant conduct.’ I don’t think he slept a wink that night.”

It is as far beyond my purpose, Mr. President, as it is beyond my ability, to describe the action which began at sunrise on the 17th day of January, 1781, and ended at “two hours before noon.” In the judgment of Bancroft, Morgan was at this time the “ablest commander of light troops in the world,” and I content myself with saying that on that bloody but happy day his disposition of his troops, his personal bravery, and the result which attended it, all, all confirm the pronouncement of the great historian. The battle was fought in an open wood, “affording to the movements of an army all the facilities of a plain.” Tarleton himself declared it to be “as proper and convenient a place for an action as he could desire.” It resulted in an American loss of twelve killed and sixty wounded. Of the enemy, “ten commissioned officers were killed and more than a hundred rank and file; two hundred were wounded; twenty-nine commissioned officers and more than five hundred privates were taken prisoners besides seventy negroes.” Two standards, upward of a hundred dragoon horses, thirty-five wagons, eight hundred muskets and two field pieces were also captured. The British army was practically destroyed—the fragment which survived, with the flying Tarleton at their head, being driven pell-mell in ignominious flight to the main body at Turkey Creek. Thus again, by a single blow, was another third of Cornwallis’ proud army annihilated.

The fame of this surprising victory spread throughout the country. Greene announced it to the army in general orders, saying the victors were “the finest fellows on earth, more worthy than ever of love.” The governors of the Southern States made proclamation of the event. The Commonwealth of Virginia, in the plenitude of her gratitude, voted Morgan a house and sword as a testimonial of “the highest esteem of his country for his military character, so gloriously displayed.” From Charlotte, under date of January 21, 1781, the gallant General Davidson, who was so soon to yield his life in resisting Cornwallis’ passage of the Catawba, sent Morgan a note by “Parson McCaully” extending his “warmest congratulations on the late glorious victory,” and saying “you have, in my opinion, paved the way for the salvation of the country.”

Greene wrote him from Camden August 20, 1781: “The people of this country adore you.” “Great generals are scarce—there are few Morgans to be found.” From Montok Hill, August 15, 1781, while Morgan was recuperating his health, Lafayette wrote: “My dear Friend: I have been happy to hear your health was better. I hope the springs will entirely recover it; and then, my dear sir, I shall be happier than can be expressed, at seeing you with the army. You are the general and the friend I want.” In the Congress, a resolution was adopted placing on record on behalf of the people of the United States “the most lively sense of approbation of the conduct of Morgan and the men and officers under his command.” It ordered that a medal of gold be struck and presented to him in commemoration of the gratitude of his countrymen. It attempted to sum up his merit in three words: “Virtus unita valet.”

Modest, indeed, was the report of Morgan himself of the battle. “Our success,” said he to Greene, “must be attributed to the justice of our cause and the gallantry of our troops. My wishes would induce me to name every sentinel in the corps.” He did name some of his officers in that original report of the battle dated “Camp near Cain Creek, Jan. 19, 1781,” and it will arouse the pride of every man of Irish blood to read them. Listen to this much of it: “Major McDowell, of the North Carolina volunteers, was posted on the right flank in front of the line, one hundred and fifty yards; and Major Cunningham, of the Georgia volunteers, on the left, at the same distance in front. Colonels Brannon and Thomas, of the South Carolinians, were posted in the right of Major McDowell and Colonel Hayes and McCall, of the same corps, on the left of Major Cunningham. Captains Tate and Buchanan, with the Augusta riflemen, to support the right of the line.” In the Maryland Regiment, were Major Edward Giles, Morgan’s aid; Captain Gilmore, and Ensign McCoskell. McDowell and Cunningham and Tate and Giles and Gilmore and Hayes and McCoskell and McCall and Brannon, commissioned officers all, in one battle! From this array, it would seem that the Irish may modestly lay claim to have struck at least one blow for Independence!

The military career of Morgan was now nearly ended. Immediately upon the termination of the engagement, he began that masterly retreat for a distance of one hundred and fifty miles before the troops of Cornwallis and Leslie, to form a junction with Greene, which was so necessary to save his little corps from annihilation or capture. To overtake him, Cornwallis destroyed his entire baggage train, and converted his army into light troops. But in vain. Though heavily encumbered by the captured munitions of the enemy and his celerity retarded by the prisoners of war, Morgan conducted his retirement with great prudence and success, and in twenty-one days joined Greene at Guilford Court House, his pursuers being but twenty-five miles in his rear. His heroic band was saved.

Emaciated from want and crippled with disease resulting from hardships he endured in the Canadian campaign, Morgan was now scarcely able to sit upon his horse. When mounted he could not ride out of a walk. He “was a sufferer to the verge of human endurance, and was forced to ask for leave of absence to regain his broken health. Slowly and painfully he made his way homeward; and he was never again physically fit for active operations. But his warlike spirit was never at rest while an armed enemy of his country was in the field. In June, 1781, when Tarleton was raiding eastern Virginia, he raised and equipped a body of cavalry at his own expense and at the earnest importunity of Benjamin Harrison and Archibald Cary, Speakers of the House of Delegates and Senate of Virginia, he placed himself at their head to join Lafayette. But in August his old malady compelled him again to retire.

The spirit of the old hero chafed under his enforced idleness. The termination of the titanic struggle was now discernible to his experienced eye and he longed to participate in the closing events. The French fleet was in the Chesapeake, cutting off the escape of Cornwallis by sea. In his rear was Lafayette—there was no retreat to the southward. On his flank was the Marquis of St. Simon—there was no flight to the mountains. And from the north, at the head of the main army, marched George Washington with his veteran troops.

The stupendous event which took place at Yorktown on the 19th day of October, 1781, at 4 o’clock p. m., and its influence on the history of the human race, all the world knows. Morgan was at home at that time on a bed of sickness. He wrote Washington under date of September 20, lamenting that his condition prevented him from serving in the field. It was a letter full of personal and patriotic utterances—so much so that Washington felt impelled to answer it in kind. His answer is dated “Headquarters, before York, 5th October, 1781.” “Surrounded as I am,” he wrote, “with a great variety of concerns on the present occasion, I can yet find time to answer your letter of the 20th ultimo, which I have received with much satisfaction; not only as it is filled with such warm expressions of desire for my success on the present expedition, but as it breathes the spirit and ardor of a veteran soldier, who, though impaired in the service of his country, yet retains the sentiments of a soldier in the firmest degree.

“Be assured that I most sincerely lament your present situation, and esteem it a peculiar loss to the United States that you are, at this time, unable to render your services in the field. I most sincerely thank you for the kind expressions of your good wishes, and earnestly hope that you may soon be restored to that share of health which you may desire, and with which you may again be useful to your country in the same eminent degree as has already distinguished your conduct.”

Within two weeks’ time from the date of that cordial letter, Cornwallis surrendered his army, the war of the Revolution had been fought to a finish and the military life of Daniel Morgan was ended.

To his estate in Clarke County, Virginia, which he proudly called “Saratoga,” he now retired; and there he spent his declining days. For two years, in obedience to the call of his people, he served them in the Congress of the nation; but, as he had been most warlike in time of war, in time of peace he preferred the quiet shades of private life. On the sixth day of July in the year 1802, in about the sixty-seventh year of his age, he passed out at Winchester, in Virginia, and there lies his dust in an humble grave.

Mr. President, the dust of Daniel Morgan is noble dust. Saving alone those of the commander-in-chief, his services to his struggling country are the most remarkable in the annals of the war. From the valley of the Hockhocking in 1774, he pledged himself to the services of his brethren of Boston and marched his riflemen six hundred miles to their relief. Into the hardships of the Canadian Campaign he led the van; and three times before Quebec he guided his men to the fire-fringed heights with the courage of a demi-god. To him belongs the chief glory of Burgoyne’s surrender; and at the Cowpens he won what Bancroft affirms was “the most astonishing victory of the war.” His life was a succession of sacrifices for his country. Measure his services as you may—in number, in value, or in brilliancy—they are not surpassed by those of any officer of the Revolution, saving always the unapproachable Washington. In fifty contests with the enemy he participated—eight of them being general engagements—and in those in which he was charged with the responsibility of command, he was either successful or achieved results which were equivalent thereto. His patriotism was proof against British allurements when he was a ragged prisoner of war; and his sense of honor repelled the temptations of a superior brother-officer in the hour of victorious exultation. Into every danger where wartime duty called him, he “fought a good fight”; in spite of every wile of the seducer, “he kept the faith”; into the quietude of private life he carried the praises of the whole army and the plaudits of the civil representatives of his country. But he did not escape calumny. He paid the inevitable penalty which success entails, and paid it with the smile of scorn and the noble silence of conscious rectitude. The American people, as yet, have no Madeleine, no Valhalla, no Westminster, wherein repose the ashes of their mighty dead. But when that national mausoleum comes, as come it ought and come it will, to it in some future generation the dust of Daniel Morgan will be tenderly borne and in honor inurned beneath its vaulted halls. Meantime, he sleeps yonder at Winchester amidst the lovely hills of Old Virginia, and, “in honored rest,” sleeps well well—

“His truth and valor wearing.”

No marble pile marks his resting place. He needs none! Congresses may, his countrymen never will, forget his devotion to the Republic. On the portals of St. Paul’s Cathedral, the stranger who would behold the monument of its architect, Sir Christopher Wren, is admonished in stately Latin to “look around him.” Si quaeris monumentum, circumspici! Ye who would behold the monument of Daniel Morgan, lift your eyes to the towering dome of your country’s Capitol and consider all that it represents! Read the Bill of Rights incorporated in the charters of your commonwealths, and reflect upon the inalienable prerogatives it preserves to eighty millions of freemen! Study the constitution itself and realize with Gladstone that it is “the most wonderful work ever struck off in a given time by the brain and purpose of man!” Ponder those blessings of liberty which, in their full flower and fruition, every American enjoys tonight! And when ye have done this, remember that Daniel Morgan was of the fathers by whose blood and spirit they were established. Sublimer than effigies of brass, more enduring than granite shafts, are these memorials of the men of the old heroic days. Upon the rights of mankind are they founded, and they will remain even unto the last day of recorded time. And when Time shall be no longer—when, in the ultimate convulsion of nature, the archangel-trumpeter shall sound his summons for the living and the dead to render final accounting of their stewardship—before the Judge of the Nations in the group of immortals who blazed the way for the glory of the American Republic, will stand the tall Irish chieftain of the Virginia Riflemen, “with a countenance like the lightning and in raiment as white as snow.”

ST. BRENDAN, AMERICA’S FIRST DISCOVERER. HOW A LEARNED AND ADVENTUROUS IRISHMAN AND SIXTY MONKS OUTSTRIPPED COLUMBUS BY NEARLY TEN CENTURIES IN HIS QUEST OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE—A GRAPHIC AND CONVINCING TREATISE.

BY THOMAS S. LONERGAN, NEW YORK CITY.

During all historic time, the Irish have been noted for their love of adventure and travel, and had commercial intercourse with the leading ports of Europe and Asia for centuries before and after St. Patrick’s time, which is proof that they had sailing vessels of no mean order. The conversion of the Irish people to Christianity, in the fifth century, is unique in the annals of Christendom, because it was accomplished by one man and without the shedding of a single drop of human blood—but the discovery of America by Irish monks in the middle of the sixth century is still a mooted question, notwithstanding the historical researches of Irish, French, German and American scholars, which prove that St. Brendan was the first discoverer of this western hemisphere. His expedition was essentially a religious undertaking, as well as the fulfillment of a well-known prophecy.

St. Brendan was born in the year 484, at a place now called Tralee, in the County of Kerry, Ireland. He was the son of Finnlogha, of the race of Ciar, son of Fergus. He was educated by his relative, the Bishop of Erc, who was head of a local monastery at Kerry. When a child, young Brendan was placed in charge of St. Ita, at Killeedy, in the County of Limerick, where he remained for five years, after which he returned to Bishop Erc’s monastery, and began his ecclesiastical studies with marked ability. He was sent from there to St. Jarlath’s College of Tuan for the purpose of studying the laws and rules of the saints of Ireland, with the injunction to return to Bishop Erc for holy orders, and in due course of time he was ordained.

St. Brendan belonged to what is known as the second order of Irish Saints. Shortly after his ordination, a passionate desire took possession of him to go forth on expeditions for the discovery of strange lands and the salvation of souls. At his ordination the words of St. Luke produced a profound impression on his mind, which subsequently formed his determination to forsake his native country and to embark on a voyage to a mysterious land, far from human ken and beyond a mighty ocean.

It is certain that Irishmen, in ancient days, found their way to the Hebrides, the Shetland and Faroe Islands, and even to Iceland. St. Brendan is said to have visited the Western and Northern Islands, and Brittany in France between 530 and 540. When he returned home the passion to discover the Land of Promise, as foretold in St. Patrick’s prophecy, was stronger than ever. He went to St. Ita, his old nurse, for counsel, and she advised him to build a ship of wood, and she told him that he would find the distant land beyond the great ocean. He immediately set out for Galway in Connacht, and gathered several of his faithful monks about him, and they there and then began to build a large wooden ship. We are told that they built a peculiar mast in the middle of the ship, and secured all the other rigging for such a craft. They put aboard various kinds of herbs, seeds and provisions. They sailed from Galway along the Irish Coast to the Bay of Kerry.

In 545, according to the Irish annals and the Latin manuscripts, St. Brendan and sixty Irish monks, sailed from the Bay of Kerry, which still bears his name, and after an adventurous voyage of forty days, they reached the shores of what is now Virginia or Carolina, and are said to have remained in this western hemisphere for seven years, exploring and preaching the Gospel of Christ to the natives, especially along the shores of the Ohio River. Most probably they trod the soil of New England. The reports of what they saw and endured are simply marvellous. They found a fertile land, thickly wooded and full of birds and flowers, strange animals and strange human beings.

There is every reason to believe that before the close of that eventful century the story of St. Brendan’s voyages and discovery was well known in every part of Europe. There are still extant thirteen Latin manuscripts in the National Library of Paris which have come down from the tenth century, and contain elaborate accounts of St. Brendan’s discovery of America. The Bodlien Library of Oxford and the Nuremburg Library of Germany contain several of the Brendan MSS. There are also versions of the discovery in Gaelic, German, Spanish, Portuguese and Italian.

In the year 1892, the late General Daniel Butterfield, the noted American soldier and scholar, photographed one of the original Latin manuscripts of Brendan in the Bibleothèque Nationale of Paris, which he translated on his arrival in this country, and he subsequently prepared a learned lecture on the subject, which he delivered before the New York Gaelic Society. The translation, has been vouched for by Cardinal Gibbons of Baltimore as being almost literal.

The manuscript begins with a sketch of St. Brendan’s career and of the confession made to him by Father Barindus, which was instrumental in firing the imagination of the great abbot to make a voyage in search of the Land of Promise, which was America. St. Brendan laid his full statement of the confession before the seven wisest counsellors of his community, which concluded in the following words, as translated:

“My Beloved Fellow Warriors: I now ask of you counsel and help, inasmuch as my thoughts and my heart are bent on one desire, if it be the will of God. That land whereof Father Barindus has spoken, is the land of promise of the saints. I have yet set my heart upon. What say you? What counsel do you give me? Their answer was, ‘Abbot, your will is ours; have we not left our parents, have we not forsaken our inheritance, have we not delivered ourselves up unto you? Therefore with you we are ready to go unto life or death.’”

They considered the story or confession a revelation to enable them to reach the land, of which Patrick’s prophecy had foretold. When once upon the highlands of Munster, and looking out upon the Atlantic Ocean, St. Patrick said that a man of renown should arise in those lands and go out upon the sea and find the promised land. That prophecy has been a household word with the people in the Kerry region for more than fourteen centuries, and was well known for several years before St. Brendan was born. The traditions of the Brendanian voyages, like Banquo’s ghost, will never down, because they are embodied in the literature of many European nations.

The following passage appears in Otway’s Sketches, published in Dublin in 1845.

“Brendan, having prosecuted his inquiries with all diligence, returned to his native Kerry, and from a bay sheltered by a lofty mountain, that is now known by his name, he set sail for the Atlantic land and directing his course towards the Southwest, in order to meet the summer solstice, or what we call the ‘tropic’ after a long and rough voyage, came to summer seas where he was carried without sail or oar for many a long day. This, it is presumed, was the great Gulf Stream and which brought his vessel to shore, somewhere about the Virginia Capes, or where the American coast tends eastward and forms the New England States. There landing, he and his companions marched far into the interior and came to a large river, flowing East and West, which was evidently the Ohio River. After some years’ exploration, the holy adventurer was about to cross the river when he was accosted by a person of noble presence (but whether a real or imaginary man does not appear), who told him that he had gone far enough in that direction and that further discoveries were reserved for other men who would in due time come and Christianize all that pleasant land. The above, when tested by common sense, clearly shows that Brendan landed on a continent and went a good way into the interior.”

It is now supposed that St. Brendan and his companions soon returned to Ireland. Some writers state that he made a second voyage to this country, but there is no proof for that statement.

In the sagas of Scandinavia, America is called Irland Mikla, or “Great Ireland.” The Scandinavian records contain an account of three voyages made to America after the time of St. Brendan and before the arrival of Columbus. Voraginius, the Provincial of the Dominicans and Bishop of Genoa in the thirteenth century, devotes much space in his “Golden Legend” to St. Brendan’s Land. Wynkyn de Worde, the first English printer, wrote a life of St. Brendan, which was published in 1483, just nine years before Columbus sailed from Palos. Several Italians, who wrote in the fifteenth century, had much to say about St. Brendan’s discovery, and it is to be presumed that the mind of Columbus was well stored with the traditions of America’s first discoverer, which had come down through the Middle Ages.

Here are a few sentences spoken by St. Brendan on the banks of what is now supposed to be the Ohio River:

“Behold the land which you have longed for so long a time.

“The reason you saw it not sooner was that God desired to show you the secrets of the ocean.

“Return, therefore, to the land of thy nativity, carrying with you of the fruits and gems of all that your ship will carry, for the days of your journey are near to a close, and you shall sleep with your fathers. But after the lapse of many years this land shall be made known to your descendants, when Christianity shall overcome Pagan persecution. Now, this river which you see divides the land, as it now appears to you rich in fruits, so shall it always appear without any shadow of night, for its light is Christ.”

If the foregoing is not positive proof, it is at least pretty good circumstantial evidence of St. Brendan’s discovery of this western hemisphere.

Nearly all writers on Columbus bear witness to the traditional value of the voyage of St. Brendan in guiding and inspiring Lief Erickson in the tenth century, and Columbus in the fifteenth, to the discovery of the New World.

The legend of St. Brendan is treated in the general histories of American discovery. In Winsor’s “Narrative and Critical History of America,” volume I, page 48, there is a list of some of the different texts of the legend. Payne’s “History of America” gives a brief summary of the legend. He says: “No story was more popular in the end of the fifteenth century. The critic who does not absolutely reject it, as the Bollandists have done, may take his choice of original versions of it in eight different languages: and St. Brandan occupies ten dense pages in William Caxton’s version of the Golden Legend.” An English version of the legend was published by the Percy Society in 1844 under the title, “St. Brandan, a mediæval legend of the sea, in English prose and verse (London, 1844).”

Gaffarel’s “Histoire de la dècouverte de l’Amerique,” volume I, contains a chapter entitled “Les Irlandais en Amerique avant Colomb,” in which he gives an extended account of the story of St. Brendan, with references to authorities.

De Roo, in his “History of America Before Columbus,” published in 1900, says: “The story of St. Brendan was one of the most remarkable and widely spread of the middle ages. The number of its ancient copies, carefully preserved to the present day, its various translations and its learned commentaries, published of late, sufficiently testify to the living interest which the ‘Navigatio’ of St. Brendan excited. There is scarcely a MSS. Collection in Europe, of any account, where it cannot be found.” There is a copy of the “Navigatio” in the Vatican Library since the Ninth Century. De Roo gives full credence to the St. Brendan narrative.

Learned writers like Moosmuller of Germany, Gravier of France, Palfry and De Costa of America, not to speak of Irish scholars, have written much on St. Brendan and prehistoric America. Cardinal Moran of Australia has recently written a very able work on St. Brendan. O’Donoghue’s Brendaniana and Webb’s Compendium of Irish Biography make mighty interesting reading.

There are several ancient maps in the European Libraries which mention St. Brendan’s Land or “Great Ireland” and those maps are being closely examined by historical students interested in pre-Columbian discoveries.

Columbus himself, while he was endeavoring to fit out his first expedition, wrote these words: “The land of St. Brendan is the land of the Blessed, towards the West, which no one can reach except by the power of God.”

It is not too much to claim that the Irish chapter in American history began with St. Brendan. It is to be hoped and expected that the future historians of this Western Hemisphere will recognize Brendan, the Irish monk and famous navigator, as America’s first discoverer and give credit to whom credit is due.

There is still extant in the Monastery of St. Gall in Switzerland, an ancient MS. containing the prayer of St. Brendan for the safety of himself and his companions in his trans-Atlantic voyage.

“Judging by the ancient documents,” says the learned Dane, Professor Rafn, “we can have no doubt that Great Ireland was settled long before the year 1000 by a Christian Colony from Ireland.” What Rafn calls Great Ireland, we now call the United States of America. Rafn also claims that a people speaking the Irish language were found in Florida as far back as the eighth century.

The latest book on this subject is by Mrs. Marion Mulhall, the wife of the famous statistician, entitled “Explorers in the New World Before Columbus,” recently published by Longmans, Green & Co. Every student of pre-Columbian discoveries ought to read that splendid work, which deals with a mighty interesting theme in the field of historical research.

In the sixteenth century, traces of Gaelic speech and a knowledge of the poems of Ossian were discovered among the Indians of Florida. Ossian was an Irish poet who flourished two centuries before St. Brendan was born. Both Thomas Jefferson and Napoleon considered him the greatest poet that ever lived.

In the light of modern historical research, it is absurd to claim that Columbus was the first discoverer of America. I am fully satisfied that Lief Erickson and his Norsemen from the islands of the Baltic discovered this Continent 500 years before Columbus; and I am as fully convinced that St. Brendan and his Irish Monks landed on the shores of this country about the middle of the sixth century. Owing to the fact that no permanent settlement or lasting results came from these discoveries, therefore they do not take a jot or tittle from the achievement of Christopher Columbus, whose name and fame are bound to live forever in the annals of the human race.

The Oxford University press has just published a number of Irish manuscripts in the English language which have been in the Bodlien Library for centuries. Some of those Gaelic manuscripts also refer to the Brendanian voyages and discoveries.

The early Portuguese explorers believed in the existence of the El Dorado, the undiscovered country of St. Brendan. The strongest proof of this is that when the Crown of Portugal was ceded to the Castilians, the treaty included St. Brendan’s land as a certain future discovery.

The high religious reputation and singular fame of St. Brendan gave considerable value to his manuscripts, from which sprang up an unique literature, that planted in the brain of Columbus a desire to find the long lost Land of Promise, which he eventually discovered in the year 1492, a year forever memorable in the history of civilization.

Why is it that nearly all the original Brendan manuscripts are in the Latin tongue? Chambers in his “Cyclopedia of English Literature” gives an excellent explanation: “The first unquestionably real author of distinction is St. Columbanus, a native of Ireland, who contributed greatly to the advance of Christianity in Western Europe and died in 615. He wrote religious treatises and Latin poetry. As yet no educated writer composed in his vernacular tongue. It was generally despised by the literary class, and Latin was held to be the only language fit for regular composition.”

Both Columbanus and Columkill or Columba were contemporaries of St. Brendan. Doubtless St. Brendan was an accomplished Latin scholar. Throughout Europe, during the Middle Ages, Brendan’s voyage was a most popular subject in church literature. The Brendanian Manuscripts are still locked up in the various libraries of Europe, and only a few of them have been translated into any of the modern languages. It is to be hoped that some of the great scholars of Germany, as well as those of Ireland, will soon turn their attention to those old manuscripts. The Book of Lismore contains a life of Brendan in the Gaelic language, and the annals of Clonmacnoise devote considerable space to the career and achievements of the famous navigator.

In view of St. Patrick’s prophecy, which was fulfilled by St. Brendan’s voyage, it is a singular fact that the Atlantic Cable was laid by Cyrus W. Field in 1857 within sight of Mount Brendan, which stands out in bold relief on the Irish coast, at an altitude of fully three thousand feet, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.

In childhood young Brendan inhaled the ocean breezes, and was familiar with the magnificent scenery of his native Kerry. At the foot of his mountain retreat was Brendan Bay, from which he sailed for this Western continent almost fourteen centuries ago.

The Sailor Saint is known as St. Brendan the Elder, in contradistinction to St. Brendin, the Abbot or Bishop of Birr. Some writers have confounded those two illustrious Irishmen who flourished in the same century.

Many beautiful poems on “The Sailor Saint” are to be found in the modern languages of Continental Europe, and some historical ballads by Denis Florence McCarthy, Thos. Darcy McGee and others in the English language. Here is one stanza from McGee’s well-known ballad:

“Mo-Brendan, Saint of Sailors, list to me, And give thy benediction to our bark, For still, they say, thou savest souls at sea, And lightest signal fires in tempest dark. Thou sought’st the Promised Land far in the West, Earthing the Sun, chasing Hesperian on, But we in our own Ireland have been blest Nor ever sighed for land beyond the Sun.”

It has been recently pointed out by a writer on the subject that the ancient Irish would have turned the discoveries of St. Brendan to good account, and would have kept up communication with America, if their attention had not been drawn to the severe combat carried on in England between the Britons and the Saxons. Then, at a later period, the Danes invaded Ireland, and for almost 300 years the Irish at home were engaged in continuous warfare against those Pagan marauders, and consequently were in no position to carry out any great peaceful enterprise in distant lands.

In the year 553, St. Brendan founded the famous monastery of Clonfert, in the County Galway, Ireland. In after years that seat of learning had over 3,000 students within its walls, most of whom came from foreign countries. They were educated and entertained without fee or reward, and the same was true of all the other great schools and colleges during the Golden Age of Ireland, which embraced the sixth, seventh and eighth centuries. History tells us that Ireland was then “the school of the West, and the quiet habitation of sanctity and learning.”

During that age, “the monasteries at Bangor, Clonfert and elsewhere,” says Montalembert in his “Monks of the West,” “became entire towns, each of which enclosed more than 3,000 students. The Thebiad reappeared in Ireland, and the West had no longer anything to envy in the history of the East. There was besides an intellectual development, which the Eremites of Egypt had not known. The Irish communities joined by the monks from Gaul and Rome, whom the example of St. Patrick had drawn upon his steps, entered into rivalry with the great monastic schools of Gaul. They explained Ovid there; they copied Virgil, they devoted themselves especially to Greek literature; they drew back from no inquiry, no discussion; they gloried in placing boldness on a level with faith.”

Religion and education went hand in hand in ancient Ireland from the birth of St. Brendan in 484 to the Danish invasion, which took place in the closing years of the eighth century. In that period Ireland was the most learned country in all Europe. The fame of her schools had travelled far and wide. The languages of Greece and Rome, as well as her old Gaelic tongue, were studied and mastered, and thousands of pilgrim students came to her shores, among them were Alfrid, King of Northumbria, and Dagobert II., King of France.

Love of learning has been an Irish attribute from time immemorial; no mind, not even the Athenian, had ever a greater thirst for knowledge than the Irish mind. Ossian, who lived in the third century of the Christian Era, is to Gaelic literature what Homer is to Greek literature. Intellectual vigor, spiritual fervor and love for travel have been and still are the predominant characteristics of the Irish. Wherever the Irish monks went they founded monasteries, churches and colleges, and laid the foundation for modern civilization and culture. The truest history of Ireland is to be found in the poetry of her bards and in the writings of her exiled monks. For proof see Zimmer’s “Irish Element in Medieval Culture” and Hyde’s “Literary History of Ireland.”

St. Columkill, a contemporary of St. Brendan, has been called the father of monasticism in the British Isles. He and Columbanus are acknowledged to be the two most learned men of their age. It is a well established fact that St. Brendan visited his countryman, Columkill, at his monastery at Iona on the west coast of Scotland in 564. On that occasion he founded two monasteries in Scotland. He also travelled in Wales and England, where he founded some churches and schools and converted thousands to the Christian faith. He built the Monastery of Ailech in Britain, which is now called St. Malo. That was several years before St. Augustine landed on British soil. So we see that Lecky was justified in stating that “England owes a great deal of her Christianity to Irish monks, who labored among her people before the arrival of Augustine.”

Most of the history which has been written during the past four centuries has been a conspiracy against truth, but in these opening years of the twentieth century history is being rewritten in the light of historical research, and in keeping with the spirit of truth and justice. The late Lord Acton was the pioneer, and his example is being followed by some of the great scholars of Germany and other European countries, which may throw a flood of light on the chronicles and traditions of St. Brendan, as well as on the golden Age of Hibernia.

St. Brendan attended the inauguration of Aedh Caemh (anglicized Hugh Keeffe), the first Christian King of Cashel in Tipperary in 570, when he took the place of the official bard, who was a Pagan. On that occasion he converted the bard to Christianity and gave him the name of Colman, now known as St. Colman of Cloyne, in whose honor St. Colman’s College at Fermoy was named.

According to Ussher, St. Brendan died at Annadown in 577, in the 94th year of his age, and was buried in his own monastery at Clonfert. His day on the calendar is May 16—a day forever sacred to the memory of Hibernia’s greatest navigator. No complete compilation of biographical work fails to mention the name of St. Brendan, who is preëminently the mariner saint of the calendar.

The literary fame of historic Clonfert is known only to the students of history. Most of the precious manuscripts of that great institution of learning were destroyed by the Danes and Anglo-Normans centuries ago, and its walls have long since crumbled into ruins.

“Clonfert,” says the scholarly Butterfield, “should be dear to all Americans, because our first discoverer was Clonfert’s Bishop. The Sea of Clonfert will doubtless remain during future ages as a shrine of pilgrimage to numberless tourists, for it holds in its midst an honored grave, where rests the dust of the patriarchal navigator who first designated this hemisphere as a paradise of loveliness, to give happy homes and altars free to the myriad outcasts of the human family.”

During the past two centuries, countless thousands of Erin’s sons and daughters have found happy homes and civil and religious liberty in “Brendan’s Land,” now and forevermore the land of Washington, which has been for more than a century and a quarter an asylum for the poor and oppressed of every race and every clime.

Owing to the ruthless destruction of vast numbers of ancient Irish archives by the Danes and English, our knowledge of the first discovery of America is not as exact as could be desired, yet there is enough known to justify Americans, regardless of race or creed, in claiming the honor of that discovery for St. Brendan and his sailor monks, almost a thousand years before Columbus landed on the soil of San Salvador.

THE IRISH SETTLERS OF SOUTHERN NEW HAMPSHIRE.

BY HON. JAMES F. BRENNAN, HISTORIOGRAPHER AND MEMBER OF THE EXECUTIVE COUNCIL OF THE AMERICAN IRISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY, A MEMBER OF THE NEW HAMPSHIRE HISTORICAL SOCIETY, AND HISTORIOGRAPHER OF THE PETERBOROUGH HISTORICAL SOCIETY, PETERBOROUGH, N. H.

The men who endured the hardships of this rough climate and encountered the dangers incident to the opening up of this wild country, had to be a class of men with strong hearts and resolute purposes. It was no place for the weak; each had to be a soldier in the battle for existence; each had to do his share in conquering the hardy soil and defending himself and his family against the ever present dangers of Indians and the wild beasts which then infested the territory.

The Plymouth Colony, composed largely of Englishmen, had for over a century established itself in Eastern Massachusetts, provided itself with comfortable settlements and enacted laws as intolerant as this country has ever known, but had not penetrated into New Hampshire. These Puritans, who, it is said, “first fell on their knees and then on the aborigines,” had roasted witches, driven Quakers, Baptists and all others, who were outside the pale of the Church of England, with buck shot into the tender mercies of the savage interior; fleeing from the intolerance of their own church in their quest of religious liberty, they inaugurated a system of unparalleled religious slavery here.[14]

These Puritans were not the kind of men, with their selfish views, best calculated to extend civilization; they received with disfavor and imprecations the hardy Irish Presbyterians who arrived in Boston in 1736. These Englishmen always treated the emigrants from Ireland in a way calculated to discourage further Irish emigration, but this did not deter these hardy men, who, however, found the inhospitable and cold interior preferable to the section where the influence of Puritanism had established itself and left the darkest record of intolerance to be found in the history of this country.

Irish in considerable numbers had landed eighteen years before, but the continuing antipathy, which had ever existed in these English Puritans against the “Wild Irishmen,” as they termed them, were renewed on the arrival of the men in 1736 who were destined to bring civilization into New Hampshire.

In the summer of 1718 five ships, with a hundred or more emigrant families, came over from Ireland to Boston; some of them found their way to Worcester and thence to Palmer, Pelham, Coleraine and other towns in Massachusetts; a large number, under the lead of the Rev. John Morehead, founded the Federal Street Church in Boston, and one ship with some twenty families, sailing for the Merrimac late in the autumn, was driven into Casco Bay, and was frozen in for the winter at the place, which soon afterwards became the town of Portland; their provisions giving out, they suffered some hardships, but found relief among the inhabitants there.

A few families settled in that vicinity; the rest, in the spring of 1719, sailed up the Merrimac to Haverhill, and thence proceeded to that high and beautiful region of country that was called Nutfield, because it abounded in nuts; and there they determined to locate their grant of twelve miles square of land.

This grant had been made by Gov. Samuel Shute, then governor of both provinces, upon a petition signed in Ireland, March 26, 1718, by 217 persons, all but seven signing “in a fair, legible hand,” before they set out on their voyage. These sixteen first settlers and their families that had thus arrived, on the 22d day of April, 1719, had come over in company with their pastor, the Rev. James McGregor, most of them from his parish of Aghadowey, six miles south of Coleraine in the County of Londonderry, Ireland. Among them were Samuel Allison, James Gregg, James McKean, John Mitchell, John Morrison, Thomas Steele and John Stuart. They were soon joined by a large number of their compatriots, the lands were divided out to a long list of grantees, and in 1722 the town was incorporated by New Hampshire authority by the name of Londonderry.

In 1736, seventeen years later, another ship, with emigrants from Ireland, landed at Boston. These families passed the winter at Lexington, and in the next summer settled at Lunenburg, Massachusetts, and other towns in that vicinity. Among them were the names Cunningham, Ferguson, McNee, Little, Robbe, Scott, Smith, Stuart, Swan, White and Wilson.

From these two colonies southern New Hampshire was first settled.

At the time when Londonderry, New Hampshire, was founded, descendants of the English Puritans from Massachusetts had settled along the Merrimac River as far north as the old town of Dunstable. Bitter jealousies existed between the two sorts of people. At first it was said the Puritans hardly knew what to make of the newcomers; they called them the “Wild Irish.” When they started up the Merrimac in boats, and one boat was upset in the rapids, a Puritan poet wrote:

“They soon began to scream and bawl, As out they tumbled one and all, And, if the devil had spread his net, He could have made a glorious haul.”

The Puritans, in ridicule, said of these Irishmen that “they held as fast to their pint of doctrine as to their pint of rum.”

Thus was shown the relations existing between these Englishmen and Irishmen at that early period. Will this feeling of unfriendliness ever change? When the English people release Ireland from bondage and permit her to take such a position among the nations of the earth that Emmet’s epitaph can be written, then and not till then will the Irish people look with favor upon England and her government.

These Irish settlers were intensely anti-English long before that sentiment found violent expression in the War of the Revolution, in which they participated with such zeal and self-sacrifice. As recorded in the Peterborough town history, it was the attempts to establish the Church of England and to destroy the prevailing religious systems, so dear to the people, together with the oppressive land laws, that created in these Irish Presbyterians a hatred for the form of government under which they lived. In Ireland they were made by that church the objects of persecutions as mean, cruel and savage as any which have disgraced the annals of religious bigotry and crime. “Many were treacherously and ruthlessly butchered, and the ministers were prohibited, under severe penalties, from preaching, baptizing or ministering in any way to their flocks.”

And it is further stated that the “Government of that day, never wise in their commercial relations or their governmental affairs, began to recognize them only in the shape of taxes and embarrassing regulations upon their industry and trade. In addition to these restrictions, the landlords—for the people then as now did not own land, they only rented it—whose long leases had now expired, occasioned much distress by an extravagant advance of the rents, which brought the people to a degrading subjection to England; and many of them were reduced to comparative poverty.”

They would no longer submit to these wrongs, and “animated by the same spirit that moved the American mind in the days of the Revolution, resolved to submit to these oppressive measures no longer, and sought a freer field for the exercise of their industry and the enjoyment of their religion.” How like the present condition!

The sentiments of these people were the same as of the present emigrants from Ireland. They were composed in a very small part of Scotchmen, Englishmen and other nationalities, but the essential part of the pioneers of this section, in fact, nearly all of them, were Irishmen, for I assume that where men were born in Ireland, as they were, where many of their fathers, some of their grandfathers and great grandfathers were born, they were men who can unqualifiedly be called Irishmen.

Adopt any other standard and a large part of the inhabitants of Ireland at the time they emigrated would not be considered Irishmen, and probably few persons in this town today would be considered Americans.

These Scots (who, it must always be remembered, were of ancient Celtic origin) from whom the pioneers of this section trace their ancestry landed in Ireland, as the Londonderry, New Hampshire, history records it, in 1610, more than a century and a quarter before their descendants came to this country in 1736.

The early settlers of this vicinity may be taken as typical of the men who settled other towns in southern New Hampshire. They were practically all Irish, many from the northern counties, with some from the middle and southern counties of Ireland.

The towns settled by these Irishmen were, in most instances, named in honor of one of the settlers, or from towns in Ireland; some, however, submitted to a change from the names first adopted by them, in order to insure the obtaining of their charters; thus, when John Taggart and others from Peterborough in 1769 settled in what is now Stoddard, they named it Limerick and it was thus known up to the time of incorporation in 1774, when its present name was adopted; the name of the township of Boyle was changed to Gilsum when incorporated in 1763; other similar changes were made under English régime and through English influences. When, however, these Irish settlers themselves selected names for their towns, no English influence obtained, for it must be remembered that the present English and Scotch sentiments, we now hear so much about, did not possess that sturdy, loyal Irish people; the modernly invented name of “Scotch-Irish,” for instance—so far as we have any history, tradition or information—was unknown, unmentioned and unrecorded by any of them at any time, the originators and promoters of this strange and peculiar “Scotch-Irish” theory being strictly products of our own time and of our own country; there were, for example, no such names as London, Liverpool, Leeds, Sheffield, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen, given to towns where these settlers located, but the selection of names was from their own people, or from their own Ireland, which they loved so well, where they and their ancestors for many generations were born, where their kinsmen and their descendants remaining are found today resenting this modern “Scotch Irish” appellation, as these settlers would undoubtedly do themselves if living; it was in Ireland their sympathies centered and found expression in their selection of distinctly Irish names for the towns they settled, such as Dublin, Belfast, Coleraine, Boyle, Limerick, Derry, Kilkenny, Antrim and many other purely Irish names.

These Irish, who settled southern New Hampshire—the pioneers in the march of civilization—became the establishers and defenders of popular government here; their blood, transmitted to the generation following them, produced patriots who stood as a secure bulwark in defense of the political structure their forefathers had reared; thus, Irishmen have been identified with every movement in our state history from the time when the Irishman Darby Field discovered the White Mountains (naming them after Slieve Bawn or White Hills, in the barony of South Ballintubber, County Roscommon, Ireland) down to the present day. I cannot in this brief sketch refer to the part played by men of Irish descent such as Gen. John Stark, Gen. John Sullivan, Gen. James Miller, Col. Hercules Mooney and hundreds of others, who have left their impress upon the annals of our commonwealth. In the history of our state and nation one thing is satisfactorily settled and entirely clear, namely, that where Irish blood is found, there you will find true, unflinching, uncompromising defenders of the honor and integrity of our government and laws. The late Judge Jeremiah S. Black once said: “I have seen black swans, and have heard of white crows, but an Irish traitor to American liberty I never saw nor even heard of.”

These early Irish settlers were, in their religious belief, uncompromisingly rigid Presbyterians of the strictest stamp.[15] Their progeny, however, have almost entirely abandoned that severe old doctrine for the, so called, liberal modern modes of worship. However well anchored these old timers may have been in their religious belief, it seemingly was not such as commended itself to their posterity,[16] and today we find no church of their denomination in this section, and indeed comparatively few in the state.

In 1799 the disaffection in Peterborough with the old mode of Presbyterian worship took tangible form; it was too strict; personal controversies at first broke out which led to dissensions and the somewhat easier ritual of Congregationalism attracted a considerable number, and, having at that time only one church edifice, in the interest of peace and convenience, communion was served at stated times in the Presbyterian form and at other times in the Congregational form; but liberalism was not then satisfied and Unitarianism appeared to claim its share; with these dissensions came the Baptists and Methodists, then other religions of modern invention and atheism with no religion at all, finally shared in the general mix-up; a sort of go-as-you-please condition, embodying the so-called up-to-date ideas, where each strikes out a new religion to suit himself, or takes a hand in reforming old notions, until the original anchorage was abandoned and entirely new dogmas were substituted for the old.[17]

None of these old Irish settlers were Catholics, far from it; but the Catholic Church, which they abhorred, was destined to flourish and grow in the town they established, and today that church has a resident priest and the largest religious congregation in Peterborough.

But the religion of these Irish settlers is not important in our present inquiry; I merely mention it in passing. We are not asking whether they were Catholics or Presbyterians, Whigs or Tories, but are dealing with the more pertinent inquiry—from a cosmopolitan standpoint at least—namely, the nationality of the men who brought civilization to this section.

While many of us may not indeed agree with all their religious ideas, we cannot but admire their sterling qualities and take a racial pride in the fact that the land from which they and their forefathers came, was the same land from which we and our forefathers came; a land where the people possessed the fear of God, and clung to virtue, fidelity and patriotism as cardinal principles; a people having the courage, constancy and industry necessary for successful pioneers in this new country.

They were in no sense “Irish Scots” or “Scotch-Irish,” but Irishmen pure and simple; Irishmen to the manor born; Irishmen by origin, ancestry, sentiment, names, education and tradition; Irishmen with all the manners, traits and characteristics of the Irish. This name “Scotch-Irish” is of modern invention. Why did it not exist in writings of years ago? Simply because these Irishmen claimed no Scotch relationship.

I verily believe that if a person had called one of these hardy Irishmen a Scotch-Irishman, he would have received the same treatment Rev. James McGregor dealt out, when an impertinent fellow replied to the parson, that “Nothing saved him but his cloth,” he immediately threw off his coat and squared himself for action, saying, “It shall not protect you, sir,” and gave the fellow a thrashing.

In these latter days, as the late lamented Col. John C. Linehan well said, a new school of writers has sprung up, whose pride of ancestry outstrips their knowledge, and whose prejudices blind their love of truth. With the difference in religion between certain sections of the Irish people as a basis, they are bent on creating a new race, christening it “Scotch-Irish,” laboring hard to prove that it is a “brand” superior to either of the two old types, and while clinging to the Scotch root, claim that their ancestors were different from the Irish in blood, morals, language and religion.

This is a question not difficult to settle for those who are disposed to treat it honestly, but, as a rule, the writers who are the most prolific, as well as the speakers who are the most eloquent, appear to know the least about the subject, and care less, if they can only succeed in having their theories accepted.

The Irish origin of the Scots[18] is studiously avoided by nearly all the “Scotch-Irish” writers, or, if mentioned at all, is spoken of in a manner which leaves the reader to infer that the Scots had made mistakes in selecting their ancestors, and it was the duty of their descendants, so far as it lay in their power, to rectify the error.

These old settlers possessed the energy, faith and cheerful nature that could make life endurable under the hardships and privations of their situation on the frontier of civilized society. They had brought with them the manners, customs and habits of the Ireland of the seventeenth and first half of the eighteenth century. I need not repeat examples of their quaint humor and queer stories, or of their use of the ardent spirits on public occasions, church-raising, trainings, dancing parties, weddings and funerals. They believed in ghosts and witches and of course the devil; indeed, the devil was seen in person, if old Fiddler Baker told the truth, at the fork of the road, with horns and cloven foot, spitting fire.[19]

Under the conditions of this early time we need not wonder that when the admission of a new member to the church was in question and objection was raised that he made too free use of the bottle, “Well,” said the grave elder, “if the Lord may have a church in Peterborough He must take such as there be.”

Nearly all of the schoolmasters of these early times were Irishmen from the central and southern counties of Ireland, but their history has been suppressed by modern writers, to the extent, indeed, in some instances, of omitting altogether the mention even of their Irish names.

Rev. John H. Morison, a Unitarian minister, wrote in 1845 a history of Judge Jeremiah Smith,—before this system of suppressing and falsifying history had reached its present perfection—and in recording the facts of Smith’s boyhood of about 1771, on page 14, stated: “He began to study Latin, when about twelve years old, with Rudolphus Greene, an Irishman, employed by the town to keep school a quarter of the year in each of the four quarters of the town. While he was hearing a boy recite he usually held a stick in his hand, on which he cut a notch for every mistake, and, after the recitation was ended, another stick was employed to give a blow for every notch that had been cut.” On page 16 it is recorded that “he was sent for a short time to New Boston, to be under the instruction of an Irishman, named Donovan.”

Some of the more recent histories, however, neglect to state that these men were Irish. For instance, in the biographical sketch of this same Judge Smith, the Peterborough History (1876), page 288, states: “At the age of twelve he began to study Latin at the public school, which was then kept in the old meeting house, by Master Rudolphus Greene. After this he studied for a short time with a Mr. Donovan at New Boston,” quoted, with the word “Irishman” stricken out.

It is strange what an aversion some of the recent town historians have had to telling the truth about these Irishmen, and with what studied efforts they have suppressed facts.

The Antrim (N. H.) Town History—which, in its dealings with the early Irish settlers of that town, presents the work of an expert in this perversion—in recording, on page 215, the services of that old Irish schoolmaster, Tobias Butler, makes no mention whatever of his nationality.

The seeker of exact truth and complete historical data will, however, hardly consult histories written by narrow men, whose paramount idea apparently was to twist the actual facts to conform to the way they would have wished those facts to have been.

The only explanation or excuse for this condition is, that town histories have to be written by persons familiar with the locality, hence the writer could be chosen only from a comparatively small number, and the selection, unfortunately, of men of contracted ideas sometimes becomes unavoidable; but these writings relative to these Irishmen and their achievements, will never be accepted by the future seeker of truth; it remains for the present generation, advanced beyond the prejudices of the past, to write the true history of these Irish settlers.

THE CARROLL FAMILY IN MARYLAND.

BY MICHAEL P. KEHOE, ESQ., VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE SOCIETY FOR MARYLAND.

[The Material from which this Article is taken on the Carroll Family in Maryland was gathered together by the late Mr. D. J. Scully, who had compiled a great mass of material for the purpose of publishing a History of the Irish in Maryland, when he was unfortunately stricken down with a fatal illness. This material has been placed at my disposal by Mr. Peter J. Scully, who is a brother of the late Mr. D. J. Scully and his Executor. I want to offer my thanks to Mr. Scully for so kindly tendering the material collected by his late brother at a great sacrifice of time.]

The Carroll family of Maryland has been for three centuries a prominent one in the Province and the State, and may be said to have left an indelible impress upon the history of the Commonwealth. It would be gratifying to members of the Irish race to know that the family is distinctively a Gaelic one and occupied for centuries a high position in Ireland, being one of royal origin. The Carrolls are descended from Cian, the youngest brother of Eoghan (Owen or Eugene “Mor” great) and son of Olioll Olum, first king of Munsters, who was the ancestor of O’Cearbhaill (Cearball)—Irish for massacre or slaughter—referring to some incident possibly of the bearer’s life, Anglicized O’Carroll Ely, Karwell, Carroll, Gervil and McCarrell. It is therefore not to be wondered at that the descendants of this knightly race achieved equally knightly distinction in America. There were several different branches of the O’Carroll family all from the same parent stock, the principal one of which was that of the princess of Ely O’Carroll, territory which comprised the barony of Lower Ormond in Tipperary, with the barony of Clonlisk and part of Ballybut in the kings county, extending to the Slieve Bloom Mountains, in the Queens County.

The title “Ely” as prefixed to the O’Carrolls is derived from Eile, a prince of the fifth century. Cearbhaill or Carroll was also the last king of Leinster who lived in Naas, the capitol in the County of Kildare. He died in 909 and was a noted warrior, his sword being treasured for centuries as a precious relic by fighting men. It is evident from what is known of this sword of Carroll that sword-making was a fine art in Ireland in those days. There is extant an ancient poem in the Gaelic dedicated to the sword of Carroll which was recently translated by Prof. Kuno Meyer of the Liverpool University, who is a noted Gaelic scholar. The poem is addressed to the famous blade and is taken from the “Book of Leinster.” It is written in that intricate metre known as “Derbhde” which it is impossible to reproduce in English on account of its difficulty and has long ceased to be practised by the Gaelic poets. Its opening lines are as follows:

“Hail, sword of Carroll. Oft hast thou been in the great woof of war, Oft giving battle, beheading great princes. Oft hast thou gave a raiding in the hands of kings of high judgment. Oft hast thou divided the spoil when with a king worthy of thee. Oft hast thou been among kings, oft among great hands. Many were the kings with whom thou hast been when thou madest fight. Many a shield hast thou cleft in battle, many a head, many a chest, many a fair skin.”

The O’Carrolls belonged to the second order of the Irish royal line that is the provincial kings, of whose ancestors sat on the imperial throne, although in the later days of the kingdom, since the dawn of the Christian era, the Ard Righs were chosen from the four great families of O’Melaghlin of Meath, O’Neill of Tyrone, O’Brien of Thomond and O’Loghlin of Tirconnell and O’Connor of Connaught.

ARCHBISHOP JOHN CARROLL.

Baltimore and Maryland have had no citizen more distinguished or generally respected than the Most Reverend John Carroll, first Archbishop of Baltimore and first Primate of the United States. He was universally beloved while living and generally regretted at his decease. Dr. Carroll was born in Upper Marlboro, Maryland, in 1735, and was a kinsman of Charles Carroll of Carrollton and Charles Carroll, Barrister, springing from the same noble stock. He was the son of Daniel and Eleanor Carroll and first saw the light within a few miles of the birthplace of Thomas Clagget, the first bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Maryland, and the first one of that Church consecrated in the United States. The little old-fashioned house in which he was born is still standing. In his veins ran the blood of two old Maryland families, his mother being a woman of many accomplishments and one who left a deep impress upon the mind and habits of her distinguished son. Dr. Carroll’s early training was directed by her. As a youth of eleven years, he entered the Jesuit School at Bohemia Manor, named St. Xaverius, where he spent one year as a preparation for entrance into the school at St. Omers, in French Flanders. After six years of study at St. Omers, he entered in 1753 the novitiate of the Jesuits at Watton, where he spent two years in preparation for an ecclesiastical career and four years later at the college of the Society at Liege. On February 2, 1771, he was ordained a Priest and a member of the Society of Jesus. He surrendered his patrimonial fortune to the Jesuits under the laws of the Order. The agitation against the Jesuits being then under way in France, and the Government having suppressed the Order, Dr. Carroll with his colleagues was expelled from St. Omers and fled to Bruges in Belgium. He was later chosen by the Order in France to act as Secretary in correspondence with the French Court. His correspondence with the Government was extensive, but was without avail as far as causing the prohibition against the Society to be removed, yet he created a favorable impression on both sides by his thorough knowledge of French and Latin, and the manner in which he handled the situation. Pope Clement XIV finally on August 16, 1773, promulgated his famous Brief, which he had signed a month before, suppressing the Society of Jesus, and Dr. Carroll, having shared the prosecutions and brief captivity of his colleagues, sought and found refuge in England, where he was selected by Lord Houston, a Roman Catholic nobleman, to be tutor to his son and in that capacity made a tour of Europe with his pupil.

On the breaking out of the American Revolution, Father Carroll returned to Maryland to share the fortunes of his native land, his experiences in England having by no means created within his breast respect or love for her much vaunted institutions. He rejected many solicitations to remain in England, preferring to cast his lot with his own countrymen in what appeared at that time to be a struggle to the death. He secured faculties as a secular Priest from the Vicar Apostolic of London “in partibus infidelium” as it was then known in the annals of the Vatican, and landed in Virginia on June 27, 1774. Passing over into Maryland he took up his abode with his mother, on Rock Creek, and having placed himself under the direction of the Vicar General, in Maryland, Rev. John Lewis, he carried on mission work from Rock Creek to Aquia Creek, in Virginia. The congregation gathered in a small room in his mother’s mansion. It soon grew so large that St. John’s Church was built with Dr. Carroll as pastor. The Revolution when it broke found the old Catholic families in Maryland on the side of the colonists and Dr. Carroll naturally was one of the most ardent adherents of the patriot cause. During the Revolution he established himself near Baltimore, where he became the assistant to the Rev. John Ashton, a zealous priest, who had the honor of celebrating the first mass ever said in Baltimore. Father Carroll’s talent as a Pulpit Orator soon attracted attention even from non-catholics. St. Peter’s Church was often thronged with persons of many religious faiths, who came to hear his sermons. Because of the fact that his reputation for piety, learning and eloquence became so extensive and that through his long sojourn in France, he had become thoroughly familiarized not only with the French language but with the French people, he was appointed in February, 1776, by the Continental Congress, in company with Charles Carroll of Carrollton, Dr. Benjamin Franklin and Judge Samuel Chase, on a commission to proceed to Canada in behalf of the patriot cause. The object of the journey was to create sympathy in Canada among the French Canadians in particular, with the American cause and to induce them to revolt against Great Britain. However, the Canadians proved indifferent; a survival of the intense hatred which had existed for generations previous between the French Catholic Colonists of Canada and the Protestant Colonists of the Colonies, who were prior to the Revolution pro-English and anti-French in sympathies. Therefore all hopes were disappointed and the mission failed. This refusal to throw off the yoke of the oppressor was a decision which it is but reasonable to suppose that the French Canadians have long regretted, as their present unrest and discontent illustrates they have not, even today, succeeded in securing happiness under the rule of the English and are still an alien people in Canada. The defeat of Montgomery before Quebec and the strong opposition of the Canadians to union with the Colonies rendered all efforts toward inciting revolt during the Revolution unavailing. Father Carroll and Judge Chase finally gave up the undertaking in disgust and returned home, leaving Franklin and Charles Carroll to continue the negotiations, which, however, proved fruitless.

After the American Revolution was begun, the Catholics within the several states, and they were most numerous in Maryland, became anxious for a separation from England. Many attempts had been made to give the Colonies now embraced in the United States a bishop of their own, as it had been deemed impossible for them to live under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Quebec, who was under English rule, and the Archbishop of Mexico, who was under Spanish rule. As political reasons had kept a Protestant Episcopal bishop or church of England bishop from the Colonies, so State reasons had also made the Catholics Colonists unwilling to accept an English prelate to govern them spiritually. The Revolution precipitated many things and solved many problems concerning the Colonies and their inhabitants. The year of 1783 for instance after liberty had been established found both the Catholic and the Anglican churches in the United States both considering the question of having bishops of their own who would be Americans and the founders of American hierarchies. As is known, the efforts of the Protestant Episcopal churches or Anglican, as they were then termed in Maryland and later of those in New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Delaware and Virginia, resulted in the consecration of Bishop Seabury of Connecticut, by the Scotch non-jurors in 1784, and of Bishop White of Pennsylvania and Samuel Prevost of New York in 1787 by English prelates. Father Carroll, while he did not engage actively in the War of the Revolution, was an ardent and active patriot, the more so because the Bill of Rights adopted by the First Assembly of Maryland held under the free Government, had bestowed full citizenship upon him and all Catholics and he was therefore in an unfettered position to work for the cause.

A portion of what Father Carroll did for the patriot cause was told in an interesting article published in the Catholic Mirror of February 10, 1900, which is quoted: “A century ago, on February 16, 1801, it was publicly announced that the sleeplessness of George IV. was occasioning extreme anxiety to the British royal family. On that day William Pitt resigned, because of the king’s refusal to give effect to the spirit of the recent union of Great Britain and Ireland by removing the disabilities of his Catholic subjects. It is interesting to note that an American bishop, as recalled in the following paragraphs, was responsible in part for the King’s insomnia: Benjamin Franklin was sent by Congress to France to intercede with the King in behalf of the Colonies. He was not successful. One bright morning he was sitting in the waiting room of the King’s palace for an audience, looking downhearted and forsaken, for he had received a letter from Washington, saying: ‘If France did not send over her army, the cause must fail, for his troops were commencing to mutiny and he could not raise funds to pay them; they had no rations, their feet were on the ground and cut and bleeding from the cold.’ Franklin, looking downcast and woebegone, as he was revolving Washington’s letter in his philosophical mind, was aroused from his melancholy stupor by a voice calling: ‘Mr. Franklin! Oh, Mr. Franklin!’ Franklin jumped up and rubbed his eyes. It was the Pope’s nuncio. ‘I have good news for you,’ he said. ‘I have just got consent of the King to send over a French army and navy to aid your countrymen.’ Franklin, astonished, threw himself on his knees and clasped the hand of the nuncio, kissing it several times. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘Rome has saved my country. America will never forget it for Rome! The Catholics shall have all the rights the Protestants have. Convey to his Holiness the Pope my thanks for all the American people. We shall never, no never, forget it for Rome.’ The nuncio said: ‘Mr. Franklin, you must thank Father Carroll (Bishop Carroll) for it was he who induced the Pope of Rome to send me here in the interest of the American people. His letters in favor of your cause were laid by me before the French King and Cabinet, and success has crowned his efforts.’”

So, readers, if you want to learn something of the man who next to Almighty God and Washington gave your flag and country, turn to the Catholic Cathedral at Baltimore and see his tomb. Washington himself said: “Of all men whose influence was most potent in securing the success of the Revolution, Bishop Carroll of Baltimore was the man.” The English King called him “the rebel bishop, Washington’s Richelieu, the prime minister and adviser of Congress, the man who got the Pope of Rome to use his influence at the French Court for the Americans.” “No, no, sir,” he said, turning to Mr. Pitt, the prime minister of England, “I shall never sign a bill granting Catholic emancipation after the action taken by the rebel Catholic Bishop of Baltimore. He had America detached from my dominions by the aid of the French army and navy and by the force of Irish Catholics. No, no, Mr. Pitt, you need not stop to argue the question with me, my mind is made up on that question.” “Then,” said Mr. Pitt, “if that’s your majesty’s determination, I cannot remain in office, for I am pledged in one of the articles of union between England and Ireland to grant Catholic emancipation. It is necessary to save the union of the British empire. I must resign.” “Then,” said the King, “do so, do so.” So Pitt resigned like a man and Catholic emancipation was not granted for twenty years after this.

This shows what Ireland suffered for American independence. It also shows that Bishop Carroll’s influence was instrumental in securing our independence. The people of Boston turned out to receive the French army, which was led by a Catholic priest, with a crucifix in his hand, through the streets of Boston. All the ancient burgesses of Boston turned out and went to the Catholic Church in compliment to the French and all the old English statutes against the Catholics were repealed.

This is the record of the day. The incidents narrated in the foregoing article throw some light on the services of the illustrious clergyman to the American cause and also show why he was elevated to the primacy of the Catholic Church in America. Subsequent to the Revolution, when full freedom dawned on the former Colonies, the Catholics in the several states, and they were most numerous in Maryland, desired no connection with England, religiously, because English Catholics were at that time proscribed persons and without political rights or standing before the law, although it is true that active persecution had ceased. Yet still although freemen the American Catholics were under the jurisdiction of the English Bishops, or Vicars Apostolic, and it was this connection that it was desired to sever, so that the Americans could have absolute independence religious as well as political. Father Carroll was one of the six priests who met on June 27, 1783, in Baltimore and held a conference at which the necessity of being independent of England was considered. At this conference were present Father John Ashton, the ex-Jesuit priest, who may be fitly styled the Nestor of the Catholic priesthood of the Archdiocese of Baltimore, and Rev. Leonard Neale, afterwards Archbishop of Baltimore. On October 11, 1784, Father Carroll took part in a second conference, at which a plan of Government for the Catholic Church in the United States was drawn up, which included nineteen rules for the Government of the Clergy, was also adopted and a chapter of body corporate was formed, of which Father Ashton was chosen procurator general and he was given charge of all the church property in the Union. The chapter at a subsequent meeting at Whitemarsh, Prince Georges County, resolved to found Georgetown College, Father Ashton being named as one of the first board of directors. Father Carroll was made vicar general in 1786; in 1788 in company with Father Ashton and Rev. Robert Molyneux, afterwards vicar general, drew up a petition asking that the American Catholic Church be given greater liberty by being put under the charge of a bishop directly responsible to the Congregation of the Propaganda, which at that time was understood to be dominated by French influence. This petition was successful, and Father Carroll was unanimously nominated for the proposed prelacy.

Dr. Benjamin Franklin, at that time residing at Passy near Paris, as the American Ambassador to the Court of France, who was aware of Father Carroll’s charming manner, learning and ability, was able to use his personal friendship to assist in having the distinguished divine elevated to the episcopacy. But at first Father Carroll had no idea of aspiring to be bishop, and in fact the petition which was sent to a friend of his in Rome to be brought before the Pope asked that the Rev. John Lewis be appointed for the United States, with power to confer confirmation and to do temporarily other duties pertaining to the office of bishop. But, it is said that through the French minister to the United States a plan had been started to place a French bishop over the church in this country and Dr. Benjamin Franklin, ignorant of the position of the Catholics of the United States and of their wishes, was induced at first to lend his aid to the plan; but Father Carroll’s name was mentioned and he immediately recommended him to the Authorities at Rome. The Vatican was impressed with the recommendations of Dr. Franklin, whose fame was then as universal as that of Washington and who was the idol of the Courts of the Continent; thus a Protestant Quaker became a potent power in naming the first Primate of the Catholic Church in the United States. On June 7, 1784, Pope Pius VII., ratified the appointment of Father Carroll as prefect apostolic and the nuncio at Paris calling on Dr. Franklin to acquaint him with the appointment notified him that Father Carroll would be probably made a bishop.

Accepting the office in 1785, Father Carroll began his visitation and made a call for more priests. At this time his salary, 210 pounds sterling, was paid by the Chapter, the organization formed in 1784, which was composed solely of ex-Jesuit Fathers. A few years only were necessary to show the propaganda as well as all others interested in the growth of the Catholic church in America, the necessity for the appointment of a bishop for the new country, one who would be endowed with full powers of consecration and authority. So a petition to that effect was again forwarded to Rome signed by Father Carroll and the Reverends Robert Molyneux and John Ashton. This petition was sent through the Spanish minister, with whom Father Carroll had talked in reference to the subject, during a visitation to New York. Through his energetic course and his knowledge of the needs and hardships of the American mission as shown in his “Address to the Roman Catholics of the United States,” published in 1784, in reply to a paper of the Rev. Charles H. Wharton and in his report to Cardinal Antonelli, prefect of the Propaganda, in 1785, Father Carroll had demonstrated the wisdom of his having been chosen prefect apostolic. Cardinal Antonelli replied to the petition on July 12, 1788, and communicated to the signers authority from the Pope to call a meeting of the American Clergy and nominate a candidate for bishop and select a See. Accordingly they called a synod or conference at Whitemarsh, Md., and by a vote of 24 to 2 selected Father Carroll as the candidate for bishop and Baltimore was unanimously selected as the place of the See. Father Carroll wrote in reply to a communication from his fellow clergymen, notifying him of what they had done, that “he was by that event deprived of all expectation of rest and pleasure henceforward” and filled “with terror with respect to eternity.” The nomination was approved on September 14, 1780, by the Cardinals of the Sacred Congregation and Pius VI. issued on November 6th following the bill erecting the See of Baltimore and appointing Rev. John Carroll bishop. Father Carroll accepted the appointment and sailed at once for England to be consecrated.

Father Carroll was the recipient of numerous courtesies while in England, but soon hurried back to organize and develop his See. He returned to America early in October, landing at Baltimore on December 7th. He was received at Light Street dock by the Catholic laity and escorted to a palace which had been provided for him at the corner of Charles and Saratoga Streets. On the following Sunday old “St. Peter’s church,” which was selected as a pro-Cathedral, was crowded with citizens of all denominations, to hear the new bishop speak. He made an impressive address, in which he said: “In this, my new station, if my life be not one continued instrument of instruction and example of virtue to the people committed to my charge, it will become in the sight of God a life not only useless but even pernicious.” Shortly after his accession, Bishop Carroll received the Rev. Charles Nagot and several other Sulpitian Fathers, who had been sent to Baltimore by the Superior General of the Order at Paris, Father Emery, at the request of Father Carroll, to establish a seminary for the education of young men for the priesthood.

Father Emery had laid before Bishop Carroll in England shortly after his consecration a plan for the establishment of a seminary in Baltimore. To this plan Father Carroll had given his approval. Five seminarians accompanied the Sulpitians to this Country. It is told that on the same ship there was a young Frenchman who was then misled by Voltaire’s infidel teachings, but who later became converted to the doctrines of Christianity and consecrated his brilliant imagination and fascinating style to the service of religion and became the author of “The Genius of Christianity.” He was the illustrious Count de Chateaubriand. Acting under Bishop Carroll’s advice, Father Nagot and his companions rented a house in West Baltimore located on the present Paca Street, near Franklin, known as “The One Mile Tavern,” and there they opened on October 3, 1791, the now famous institution, St. Mary’s Seminary. This institution may be indeed styled the mother of the American Catholic priesthood. Probably more Irish-American young men have been educated within its walls than of any other nationality.

A letter to General Washington congratulating him on his open advocacy of religion and morals and upon the many notable honors that had been paid him, was presented to the great tribune by Bishop Carroll, Thomas Fitzsimmons and Thomas Lynch in 1792, on behalf of the Catholic clergy and laity of Baltimore. This letter contained many lofty sentiments, among them the following: “You encourage respect for religion. There is prospect of a nationality peculiarly Democratic, because while our country preserves independent politics and policies we shall have a well-founded title to claim from her justice, equal rights of citizenship, as well as the price of our blood spilt under your eyes, as of our warm exertions for her defence under your auspicious conduct—rights indeed the more dear by the remembrance of former hardships. While we pray for the preservation of these rights we expect the full justice of them, from the justice of those states which still restrict them.” It will be observed that the gentlemen who signed this letter were all of Irish connection, judging from their names, which are distinctively Gaelic. At this time the Federal Constitution was being discussed and the American Catholics had good reason to fear that the persecution and intolerance as well as the deprivation of political rights which had prevailed in regard to them in Colonial days, might be favored and legally declared in the provisions of that instrument. For there were those in and out of the State of Maryland who despite what Catholics and Dissenters had done in the battlefield for the achievement of American liberty and despite the aid of Catholic France which made the securement of that liberty possible were disposed to establish a State religion and to deny religious liberty at least to their fellowmen, excluding Catholics from all political rights, although there had been many Catholics in the Continental armies battling for the political rights of New Jersey and kindred “blue law” states. But these patriotic Catholics did not throw down their arms because of these abominable enactments, for their patriotism was too intense to be weakened by impulses of resentment. Therefore the American Catholic was none too sure of his status in this Country and it is even a fact that efforts were made before the Maryland Legislature to have an established church; in other words, a state religion in Maryland, and that the Anglican or Episcopalian church should retain the same relation to the State of Maryland as it had to the colony of Maryland. But a vigorous agitation led by Bishop Carroll on behalf of the Catholics and Rev. Dr. Allison for the Presbyterians effectually prevented such a proposition from being made a law. On February 22, 1800, Dr. Carroll delivered a memorable sermon in his Cathedral on the life and character of the illustrious Washington, who had died on the December 14 preceding.

CHARLES CARROLL OF CARROLLTON.

As an Irish-American, Charles Carroll of Carrollton easily stands first among all of his race in the history of the past of this Republic, at least so far as the State of Maryland is concerned, in character, in patriotism, in self-sacrifice and in services, if not in abilities. He was born at Annapolis on September 30, 1737, and was the son of Charles and Elizabeth Brooke Carroll and grandson of Charles Carroll of Kings County, Ireland. At eight years of age he was sent by his parents to France, where he received his education, remaining six years at the Jesuit College at St. Omers, six years at the Jesuit College, Rheims, two years at the College of St. Louis le Grand, Paris, and one year at Bruges, Belgium, to study civil law; returning again to college at Paris. Mr. Carroll went to London, in 1757, and commenced to study law in the Middle Temple, where he took his degree in 1764, and returned to Maryland, equipped with all of the attributes and capacities of a trained scholar and lawyer. Yet with it all as a Catholic, he had no political rights in the Colony, where he was born and where by right of inheritance he was the wealthiest man in the realm.

Mr. Carroll, however, had no need to earn his living in the Courts and first rose to fame through his memorable controversy with Daniel Dulany, in which he took the popular side, although politically without personal status, and posed as the foremost champion of freedom. In this contest Mr. Carroll proved an able controversialist and it was generally conceded the victor. His superb education had equipped him with every advantage; he was the inferior of no man in the Colony. The effect of his bold assertions and declarations against the Proprietary Governor was electric on the people and made them the more apt for revolution. Mr. Carroll wrote under the nom de plume of “First Citizen” and it was not until the controversy was at an end that his identity became known. His popularity became intense throughout the Province. It was but natural that when the clamors of revolution became potent among the people that he should become a candidate for public favor and honors. In December, 1774, he was selected as one of the Commissioners of Observation for Anne Arundel County and also on the Committee of Safety of the Province. He was elected to represent Anne Arundel County in Maryland Convention on December 7, 1775, and in February, 1776, was appointed by the Continental Congress a commissioner with Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Chase and Rev. John Carroll to visit Canada and endeavor to kindle the fires of revolt in that Country. Congress then took up the discussion of a Declaration of Independence from England, and on June 28, 1776, the Maryland Convention in session at Annapolis resolved that the Congressional Deputies from the State be empowered and authorized to concur with the United Colonies or a majority thereof in declaring all of the Colonies “Free and Independent.” On July 4, 1776, Messrs. Charles Carroll, Matthew Tilghman, Thomas Johnson, William Paca, Samuel Chase, Thomas Stone and William Alexander were elected delegates to Congress then in session at Philadelphia. Mr. Carroll took his seat on July 18th, having just returned from Canada. It is related that on August 2 an engrossed copy of the famous Declaration of Independence was placed on the desk of the Secretary of Congress for the signature of the members. Mr. John Hancock, the President of the body, in a conversation with Mr. Carroll, asked him if he would sign the document. “Most willingly,” said Mr. Carroll, who then took up a pen and signed his name—“Charles Carroll of Carrollton.” He affixed the name of his manor of Carrollton in order to be distinguished from his eminent relative, Charles Carroll, Barrister, and not, as is generally supposed, to show his defiance of England and of the consequence which might accrue in case the Revolution would be crushed by Great Britain, which would be, at least, the confiscation of his estates and his own reduction to poverty, if not execution as a traitor. His act is generally interpreted to have been caused by such an impulse alone, but chivalry as well as the fine sense of honor, which then governed men and women, was evidently his motive in doing so. He was then the richest man in the Colonies and his action simply meant also that if Great Britain won, he was prepared to sacrifice more than any man in the Colonies at the time. His cousin, Charles Carroll, Barrister, was almost as rich as he was, however, and either would have been a rich prize to the British if the Revolution had failed. “There goes a few millions,” said one of the delegates who stood around and who had seen Mr. Carroll sign the Declaration, thus showing that all agreed at the time that Carroll’s action was regarded as extraordinary. It was a truth that no single signer of the greatest Charter of Human Rights ever written risked as much intrinsically as Mr. Carroll. He was a member of the Board of War, and served in Congress until November 10, 1776, with marked ability; being succeeded by his namesake, Barrister Carroll. In December, 1776, he was a member of the first Maryland Senate and in 1777 he was returned to Congress and in 1781 was re-elected to the Maryland Senate. In 1788 he was elected one of the first United States Senators from Maryland, and in 1789 and 1806 was elected and reëlected to the Senate of Maryland. He was also appointed in 1797 one of the Commissioners from Maryland to settle the boundary line dispute between Maryland and Virginia. Mr. Carroll continued a member of the Maryland Senate until 1824, when he retired from public life. In April, 1827, he was elected a director of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad Company, and on July 4, 1828, he laid the corner stone of the railroad at Mount Clare, Baltimore. While in Baltimore he resided at the mansion located at the corner of Lombard and Front Streets, which was also the home of his son-in-law, Richard Caton, and his famous granddaughters, the beautiful Misses Caton, called “The Three Graces.” On November 30, 1832, Mr. Carroll died in Baltimore, full of years and of honors, having been for many years the last of the signers of the famous Declaration. Physically he was of slight build and below the middle size, his face being strongly featured, his eyes quick, inquisitive, piercing and therefore thoroughly Gaelic; his countenance was noble, and while in action and general bearing replete with energy. His manners were graceful and easy, as became a man of gentle breeding and education, and his expressions elegant, refined and usually considerate, even in conversation with his servants.

In June, 1768, he married Miss Mary Darnell, daughter of Henry Darnell, Jr., and had three children by the union, Charles Carroll, who married in 1799, Harriett Chew, daughter of the Hon. Benjamin Chew of Pennsylvania and sister of the famous “Peggy” Chew of “Mischeanza” fame and wife of Gen. John Eager Howard; Elizabeth Carroll, who married Richard Caton, and Catherine Carroll, who married Robert Goodloe Harper. Charles Carroll, eldest son of Charles and Harriett Chew Carroll, married Mary Higgs Lee and was the father of Hon. John Lee Carroll, late Governor of Maryland. Mr. Carroll, in his declining years, particularly, was one of the best known and beloved of Baltimoreans. He attended high mass at the Cathedral regularly every Sunday and dined frequently with the Archbishops of Baltimore, particularly with Dr. Whitefield, with whom he was intimate. The Archepiscopal residence was then located on North Charles Street, on a portion of the site of the former Young Men’s Christian Association Building, at Charles and Saratoga Streets. On one occasion, it is related that Mr. Carroll was introduced to a number of the altar boys, on whose heads he placed his hands as they passed by where he stood and exclaimed: “God bless you, my boys. Love God and obey your superiors. Honor and defend your Country’s flag, venerate your parents and obey the authorities of the civil Government.”

Mr. Carroll at the time of his death was 95 years of age, his frame being bent, although his voice was strong, his walk firm and quick and his eyes and face benevolent in expression. He dressed after the fashion of his day, his apparel including a dark waistcoat and knee breeches, black silk hose, low cut shoes and silver buckles. He attended many functions, even just before his death, and was particularly in request at patriotic gatherings. One of the last public events in which he took part was that of a great dinner given to him by the great Irish merchant William Patterson, at the latter’s country residence, “Cold Stream,” near the City. The dinner was held July 4, 1831, the 54th anniversary of the adoption of the Declaration to bring together the remnant of the Revolutionary heroes, then living in Baltimore. The occasion was made notable in every possible way, numerous invitations having been sent out by the hospitable host, who was himself a hero of the great struggle for human freedom. Everything set before the guests except the wines and brandies was produced on Mr. Patterson’s estate and the dinner was, as tradition states, a feast worthy of the distinguished company which attended it. The reception to Mr. Carroll was a most cordial one. He drove out to Cold Stream, as was the fashion of the time, in his own carriage, with his own colored coachman on the box, and was escorted to the shady grove, wherein the dinner was spread by Mr. Patterson and several crippled veterans of the Revolution. There he was greeted by the assembly with uncovered heads and was given a rousing chorus of cheers. Patriotic speeches and songs were given during the dinner, which lasted far into the evening and was enjoyed thoroughly by Mr. Carroll.

The great tribune was eminently social in his nature and many stories are existent which illustrate this trait. One of these relates to the famous collation given by Lloyd Dulany at his private residence at Annapolis, now part of the City Hotel, a few days after the burning of the Peggy Stewart, at which function Mr. Carroll was one of the guests. At this collation there was used a punch bowl which had been brought over from England in the Peggy Stewart, and Mr. Dulany explained how he had come into the possession of the article, which had been sent to him as a present. The Captain, he stated, said to him that the bowl was not a part of the cargo of the Peggy Stewart, as it was not on the manifest. The Captain had placed the bowl in his cabin with his private property and had delivered it in person to him. To this observation Mr. Carroll is said to have smilingly observed: “We accept your explanation, provided the bowl is always used to draw the same kind of tea.” As is well known, the Peggy Stewart was destroyed because she had a cargo aboard of the obnoxious stamp burdened tea, but the bowl was full no doubt of that superior kind of punch which the Marylanders of that day so well knew how to brew. This bowl stood for years on the counter of the City Hotel at Annapolis, and thousands of Marylanders have drank the same kind of “tea” out of it since the time when Mr. Carroll made his famous expression. This function, it may be well observed, was held in the abode of an Irish American Lloyd Dulany, who was a connection of the celebrated Daniel Dulany. Mr. Carroll was also connected in a way with the famous episode of the burning of the Peggy Stewart at Annapolis and the destruction of her cargo of tea by men disguised as Indians. It was he who interceded with the mob at Annapolis in behalf of the owner of the Peggy, Mr. Anthony Stewart, and he harangued the crowd from the steps of Mr. Stewart’s residence and thus prevailed on them not to do violence to the merchant, whose pro-English proclivities were well known. He was the one to suggest that Mr. Stewart himself would destroy the vessel, and its offensive cargo of “tea,” a suggestion which the mob accepted with delight, and which no doubt saved Stewart’s residence from destruction. Mr. Carroll accompanied the frightened and shaking merchant, as a protector, on that eventful day, when he went down to Windmill Point, where the Peggy lay, and himself applied the torch to the brig and her cargo.

Mr. Carroll in those days lived in Annapolis and maintained the life of a wealthy Maryland gentleman. He dwelt in a spacious mansion on what was known as the “Spa,” in the ancient City, a quarter which was then the fashionable one at the State Capitol, and had been the same during the Colonial Government and was known far and wide throughout the Colonies, as the most elegant locality in Annapolis, then termed “The Athens of America.” His terraced garden sloped down to the brink of the lovely “Spa” and was held in by a pavilion with sandstone walls and ornamented by a pavilion where the owner and his guests could sit on a warm afternoon and enjoy the cool breezes from the water. It was here that he wrote his famous “First Citizen” letters attacking the proclamation of Governor Eden (Colonial), imposing an extra tax on the people by increasing official fees and by raising the special assessments on the clergy from 30 to 40 pounds of tobacco per annum. Mr. Carroll, as has been stated, took up the popular side and defended the people, being antagonized by Mr. Daniel Dulany, whose nom de plume was “Antillon.” In a reply as to whom the “First Citizen” was, Mr. Carroll wrote: “Who is the citizen? A man, in the prosperity of his country, a friend to liberty, a settled enemy to lawless prerogatives.” It was in this controversy that Mr. Dulany threw the taunt to Mr. Carroll that he was a disfranchised English citizen and could not vote. All of which was true, for, while he could not vote, he was at that time the richest man in the Colonies and worth at least two million pounds.

CHARLES CARROLL, BARRISTER.

Charles Carroll, termed “The Barrister,” to distinguish him from his eminent namesake, Charles Carroll of Carrollton, with whom he is often confounded, was of Irish descent and was descended from the elder branch of the Carroll family, in Maryland, thus being derived from the family of Ely O’Carroll of Ireland. About 1681 the estates of the O’Carrolls in Ireland were confiscated to the Crown, the family being accused of being royalists. This confiscation was the cause of the emigration of the first ancestor of Charles Carroll, Barrister, also a Charles Carroll, to Maryland. He accumulated a large landed estate, having friends at Court, in the Calverts, which consisted of large tracts on the Eastern Shore, in Frederick County, in Anne Arundel County, in and near the site of the City of Baltimore, on Carroll’s Island, at Mount Clare near Baltimore’s original site; and at other points. The Plains, an estate near Annapolis, Claremont, for many years the residence of Hon. Carroll Spence, later Minister of Turkey, and The Caves, an estate owned for generations by the Carrolls and last held by Gen. John Carroll, which was located in Baltimore County, were also included in the possessions of this thrifty Gael. This Carroll was in religion a Protestant, as were all of his descendants, including The Barrister, which gave him great advantages politically as well as commercially, under the Colonial Government. He was a Physician by profession and was known as Dr. Charles Carroll. He married Dorothy Blake, daughter of Charles Blake, of an ancient English family and had by her several children, who were Charles Carroll, Barrister, Mary Clare Carroll, ancestress of Gen. John Carroll of “The Cave” and John Henry Carroll, who died without issue.

At an early age, young Carroll was sent to Portugal, where he was educated at a college in Lisbon under the immediate tuition of the Rev. Edward Jones. At ten years of age, his parents removed him to England, where he studied at Eton and matriculated at the University of Cambridge, where his education was completed. Mr. Carroll afterwards studied law at the Middle Temple, London. He returned to Maryland in 1746, where because of his thorough familiarity with general affairs both in Europe and in this country, he made an early entrance into public life. Thus he became one of the people’s trusty guides in the stormy days, before and during that Revolution which accomplished so much for the welfare of mankind. Being a talented speaker and writer as well, he was placed on all important committees and had occasion to prepare many public documents which were in their day influential and are therefore historic. One of these papers, the Declaration of Rights which was adopted by the Maryland Convention, November, 1776, was drawn by him and is a powerful as well as uncompromising elucidation of the rights of the people as well as arraignment of the English tyrant King George III. He was appointed one of the Committee on Correspondence of the Maryland Convention of 1774. The first Constitution and Laws of the State of Maryland was also drawn by him and in August, 1775, he was selected as one of the Committee of Safety. Mr. Carroll was also one of the members of the Maryland Convention which assembled at Annapolis in 1775 and served on a committee which on January 12, 1776, prepared instructions for the guidance of the first Maryland Deputies to the Continental Congress. In 1776, he was selected President of the Maryland convention held at Annapolis, on May 25th of that year, and was also elected a member of the committee of Safety of that year. At this Convention over which he presided the final acts of the separation of Maryland from England was accomplished, in the deposition of Governor Robert Eden and the notification of that personage that the public quiet and safety demanded, in the judgment of the Convention, that he leave the Province. Mr. Carroll was also an active member of the Convention which met at Annapolis on June 23, 1776, and which declared the Colonies free and independent States. At the Convention which assembled at Annapolis on August 17, 1776, he was also a prominent figure and was on August 18 chosen one of a committee to draft a Charter of Rights and a Constitution for Maryland.

On November 10, 1776, he was elected to Congress as the successor of his more famous relative Charles Carroll of Carrollton, by whom he was overshadowed in reputation but not in patriotism or abilities or in services to his country. When the State Government was formed he was appointed Chief Justice, but he declined the honor. He was then elected to the first Senate of Maryland, where he rendered distinguished service. Mr, Carroll was justly regarded as being next to Daniel Dulany, Jr., Maryland’s greatest lawyer. He was indirectly descended, as were all of the Carrolls of Maryland, from Daniel Carroll of Ely, who presented twenty sons all equipped and armed to the Earl of Ormond for service under Charles I. Mount Clare, his home, was a favorite resort of General Washington before and during the Revolution, and there is a copy of a picture extant, showing the illustrious patriot and Mr. Carroll going on a fishing excursion, from the latter’s mansion, their objective point being the waters of the Chesapeake, which were easily accessible from Mount Clare. This mansion is now incorporated in the limits of Carroll Park, in the southwestern section of Baltimore.

Mr. Carroll at his death left his estates to his nephews, Nicholas and James MacCubbin, the sons of his sister Mary Clare Carroll, on the condition that they took their mother’s maiden name, “Carroll,” and that only and use the coat of arms forever after. The will was dated August 7, 1781. The MacCubbins accepted the requirements of the will and their names were changed by special act of the Legislature of Maryland in 1783 and approved by the Governor William Paca. These Carroll-MacCubbins left a numerous progeny, which has intermarried and is connected with many of the leading families of the State. Among the men of this branch who have distinguished themselves in the public service may be mentioned Hon. James Carroll, who was a member of Congress and also ran for Governor against Governor Platt. He afterwards served as a Judge of the Orphans Court, and was a highly educated and accomplished man. Hon. Charles Carroll Spence of Baltimore was also a scion of the family, who became distinguished. He represented Baltimore in the Maryland Legislature in 1845 and was later appointed by President Buchanan to effect the ratification of a treaty between the United States and Persia. Subsequently he was sent as United States Minister to Turkey, filling the post with distinction. Gen. John Carroll of the Caves is also a scion of the family and is a well known citizen of Baltimore County. He was a member of the Maryland Legislature of 1860, when only 22 years of age and was Chief of Cavalry in Maryland, with the rank of Brigadier General in 1870.

DANIEL CARROLL.

Daniel Carroll was a brother of the great Archbishop and is of a consequence somewhat overshadowed by his name and fame, and yet he was a man who achieved considerable distinction in his day and was a worthy member of his distinguished family. He was born in 1730 at Upper Marlboro and was a man of high character and attainments. As soon as the shackles placed upon the Catholics in Maryland were stricken off by the Revolution and they were given free participation in public affairs, Mr. Carroll was elected a member of the Maryland State Senate and was constantly in public life, either as a member of the Senate or as a Delegate to the Continental Congress, a representative to Congress prior to the adoption of the Federal Constitution, or as a delegate to the Federal Constitutional Convention of 1787. He was also appointed by Washington a member of the commission to select the site of the National Capitol, serving with Governor Johnson of Maryland and Dr. David Stewart of Virginia. He died in May, 1796, aged 66 years. Mr. Carroll was a man of great wealth, possessing in addition to his own share of his father’s property, also that renounced by his brother Archbishop Carroll when he became a Jesuit. He owned considerable real estate in the District of Columbia and in the present boundaries of Washington, D. C., including the site of the Capitol, and also had large real estate holdings within the corporate limits of the City of Baltimore. In fact, with Charles Carroll of Carrollton, he owned practically all of the original site of Baltimore.

HOW IT BECAME PLAIN “MR. PRESIDENT”[20]—DETERMINED OPPOSITION OF AN IRISH-AMERICAN DEFEATED THE EFFORTS OF THE TITLE SEEKERS IN THE EARLY HISTORY OF OUR REPUBLIC.

BY MR. EDGAR STANTON MACLAY.

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