PART III IDEALS AND HEROES OF FREEDOM (continued 3)

The whole scene was a picture of the condition of New England, and its moral, the deformity of any government that does not grow out of the nature of things and the character of the people. On one side the religious multitude, with their sad visages and dark attire, and on the other, the group of despotic rulers, with the High-Churchman in the midst, and here and there a crucifix at their bosoms, all magnificently clad, flushed with wine, proud of unjust authority, and scoffing at the universal groan. And the mercenary soldiers, waiting but the word to deluge the street with blood, showed the only means by which obedience could be secured.

“O Lord of Hosts,” cried a voice among the crowd, “provide a Champion for thy people!”

This ejaculation was loudly uttered, and served as a herald’s cry, to introduce a remarkable personage. The crowd had rolled back, and were now huddled together nearly at the extremity of the street, while the soldiers had advanced no more than a third of its length. The intervening space was empty—a paved solitude, between lofty edifices, which threw almost a twilight shadow over it. Suddenly, there was seen the figure of an ancient man, who seemed to have emerged from among the people, and was walking by himself along the center of the street, to confront the armed band. He wore the old Puritan dress, a dark cloak and a steeple-crowned hat, in the fashion of at least fifty years before, with a heavy sword upon his thigh, but a staff in his hand to assist the tremulous gait of age.

When at some distance from the multitude, the old man turned slowly round, displaying a face of antique majesty, rendered doubly venerable by the hoary beard that descended on his breast. He made a gesture at once of encouragement and warning, then turned again, and resumed his way.

“Who is this gray patriarch?” asked the young men of their sires.

“Who is this venerable brother?” asked the old men among themselves.

But none could make reply. The fathers of the people, those of fourscore years and upwards, were disturbed, deeming it strange that they should forget one of such evident authority, whom they must have known in their early days, the associate of Winthrop, and all the old councilors, giving laws, and making prayers, and leading them against the savage. The elderly men ought to have remembered him, too, with locks as gray in their youth as their own were now. And the young! How could he have passed so utterly from their memories—that hoary sire, the relic of long-departed times, whose awful benediction had surely been bestowed on their uncovered heads, in childhood?

“Whence did he come? What is his purpose? Who can this old man be?” whispered the wondering crowd.

Meanwhile, the venerable stranger, staff in hand, was pursuing his solitary walk along the center of the street. As he drew near the advancing soldiers, and as the roll of their drum came full upon his ear, the old man raised himself to a loftier mien, while the decrepitude of age seemed to fall from his shoulders, leaving him in gray but unbroken dignity. Now, he marched onward with a warrior’s step, keeping time to the military music. Thus the aged form advanced on one side, and the whole parade of soldiers and magistrates on the other, till, when scarcely twenty yards remained between, the old man grasped his staff by the middle, and held it before him like a leader’s truncheon.

“Stand!” cried he.

The eye, the face, and attitude of command, the solemn, yet warlike peal of that voice, fit either to rule a host in the battlefield or be raised to God in prayer, were irresistible. At the old man’s word and outstretched arm, the roll of the drum was hushed at once, and the advancing line stood still. A tremulous enthusiasm seized upon the multitude. That stately form, combining the leader and the saint, so gray, so dimly seen, in such an ancient garb, could only belong to some old champion of the righteous cause, whom the oppressor’s drum had summoned from his grave. They raised a shout of awe and exultation, and looked for the deliverance of New England.

The Governor, and the gentlemen of his party, perceiving themselves brought to an unexpected stand, rode hastily forward, as if they would have pressed their snorting and affrighted horses right against the hoary apparition. He, however, blenched not a step, but glancing his severe eye round the group, which half encompassed him, at last bent it sternly on Sir Edmund Andros. One would have thought that the dark old man was chief ruler there, and that the Governor and Council, with soldiers at their back, representing the whole power and authority of the Crown, had no alternative but obedience.

“What does this old fellow here?” cried Edward Randolph, fiercely. “On, Sir Edmund! Bid the soldiers forward, and give the dotard the same choice that you give all his countrymen—to stand aside or be trampled on!”

“Nay, nay, let us show respect to the good grandsire,” said Bullivant, laughing. “See you not, he is some old roundheaded dignitary, who hath lain asleep these thirty years, and knows nothing of the change of times? Doubtless, he thinks to put us down with a proclamation in Old Noll’s name!”

“Are you mad, old man?” demanded Sir Edmund Andros, in loud and harsh tones. “How dare you stay the march of King James’s Governor?”

“I have stayed the march of a king himself, ere now,” replied the gray figure, with stern composure. “I am here, Sir Governor, because the cry of an oppressed people hath disturbed me in my secret place; and beseeching this favor earnestly of the Lord, it was vouchsafed me to appear once again on earth, in the good old cause of his saints. And what speak ye of James? There is no longer a tyrant on the throne of England, and by tomorrow noon his name shall be a byword in this very street, where ye would make it a word of terror. Back, thou that wast a Governor, back! With this night thy power is ended—tomorrow, the prison!—back, lest I foretell the scaffold!”

The people had been drawing nearer and nearer, and drinking in the words of their champion, who spoke in accents long disused, like one unaccustomed to converse, except with the dead of many years ago. But his voice stirred their souls. They confronted the soldiers, not wholly without arms, and ready to convert the very stones of the street into deadly weapons. Sir Edmund Andros looked at the old man; then he cast his hard and cruel eye over the multitude, and beheld them burning with that lurid wrath, so difficult to kindle or to quench; and again he fixed his gaze on the aged form, which stood obscurely in an open space, where neither friend nor foe had thrust himself. What were his thoughts, he uttered no word which might discover. But whether the oppressor were overawed by the Gray Champion’s look, or perceived his peril in the threatening attitude of the people, it is certain that he gave back, and ordered his soldiers to commence a slow and guarded retreat. Before another sunset, the Governor, and all that rode so proudly with him, were prisoners, and long ere it was known that James had abdicated, King William was proclaimed throughout New England.

But where was the Gray Champion? Some reported, that when the troops had gone from King Street, and the people were thronging tumultuously in their rear, Bradstreet, the aged Governor, was seen to embrace a form more aged than his own. Others soberly affirmed, that while they marveled at the venerable grandeur of his aspect, the old man had faded from their eyes, melting slowly into the hues of twilight, till, where he stood, there was an empty space. But all agreed that the hoary shape was gone. The men of that generation watched for his reappearance, in sunshine and in twilight, but never saw him more, nor knew when his funeral passed, nor where his gravestone was.

And who was the Gray Champion? Perhaps his name might be found in the records of that stern Court of Justice which passed a sentence, too mighty for the age, but glorious in all after times, for its humbling lesson to the monarch and its high example to the subject. I have heard, that whenever the descendants of the Puritans are to show the spirit of their sires, the old man appears again. When eighty years had passed, he walked once more in King Street. Five years later, in the twilight of an April morning, he stood on the green, beside the meeting-house, at Lexington, where now the obelisk of granite, with a slab of slate inlaid, commemorates the first fallen of the Revolution. And when our fathers were toiling at the breastwork on Bunker’s Hill, all through that night the old warrior walked his rounds. Long, long may it be, ere he comes again! His hour is one of darkness, and adversity, and peril. But should domestic tyranny oppress us, or the invader’s step pollute our soil, still may the Gray Champion come, for he is the type of New England’s hereditary spirit, and his shadowy march, on the eve of danger, must ever be the pledge that New England’s sons will vindicate their ancestry.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Historical Note. A tradition handed down from the time of King Philip’s war gave Hawthorne the suggestion for this story. In the attack made upon the village of Hadley, Massachusetts, by the Indians in 1675 a venerable man, of stately form, and with flowing white beard, suddenly appeared among the panic-stricken villagers, took command, and helped them put the savages to flight. Then he disappeared as suddenly as he had come. In their wonder, not knowing where he had come from or where he had gone, many believed he had been sent from Heaven to deliver them.

Their defender was William Goffe, who had been an officer in Cromwell’s army, and a member of the court which condemned Charles I to death. (Read the reference to this court in the story.) He was a Puritan, a man of deep religious feeling, whose acts had been governed by the desire to secure his countrymen their liberties. When Charles II succeeded to the English throne, Goffe fled to New England to escape his vengeance. Officers were sent across the ocean in pursuit of him. For this reason he lived in hiding, his name and identity being known only to friends who aided and protected him. He had many narrow escapes, but was never captured. From his hiding place he had seen the Indians stealing upon the people of Hadley and had gone forth to battle against them. After living in exile for the rest of his life, he died about 1679.

In this story Hawthorne altered facts to suit his purpose, making the Gray Champion appear at the time of the Boston Insurrection, in 1689. In this year James II, who had succeeded his brother, Charles II, was dethroned, and fled from his kingdom, and his son-in-law, William III, Prince of Orange, was made King of England.

The Gray Champion is made to typify the Spirit of Liberty—that spirit which animated Goffe as a Puritan soldier under Cromwell and which sent the Pilgrims and Puritans forth to find a home in the New World.

Discussion. 1. Read that part of the story which pictures the conditions of New England under Andros. 2. What were the wrongs under which the people suffered? 3. Did they submit willingly? 4. What rumor gave them hope of a return of “civil and religious rights”? 5. How did this rumor affect the Governor and his councilors? 6. Why was the Guard assembled? 7. What effect upon the people had its appearance at this time? 8. What does Hawthorne call this scene in the street? 9. What does he say is its “moral”? 10. Who came to have the advantage, the Governor and his soldiers, or the people? 11. Read all that accounts for the Champion and his sudden appearance. 12. What great cause did he come to champion? 13. What cause were Andros and his soldiers supporting? 14. Who was victorious? 15. Tell briefly the main incident. 16. Give your opinion as to Hawthorne’s purpose in writing this story.

Phrases

mercenary troops, 376, 14

filial love, 376, 16

allegiance merely nominal, 376, 19

civil and religious rights, 376, 24

sluggish despondency, 376, 31

severity of mien, 377, 17

apostolic dignity, 378, 6

confound the opposite faction, 378, 20

prelacy and persecution, 379, 20

leader’s truncheon, 381, 8

hoary apparition, 381, 24

half encompassed, 381, 25

roundheaded dignitary, 381, 36

lurid wrath, 382, 25

obelisk of granite, 383, 19

vindicate their ancestry, 383, 28

WARREN’S ADDRESS AT THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL

JOHN PIERPONT

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Biography. John Pierpont (1785-1866) was a Unitarian clergyman of Connecticut and the author of several volumes of poetry.

Historical Note. General Joseph Warren was one of the generals in command of the patriot army at the Battle of Bunker Hill. His death in this battle, while a great loss to the American forces, inspired the army to heroic efforts. He is considered one of the bravest and most unselfish patriots of the Revolutionary War. Read what your history text says about him.

Discussion. 1. In this poem we have the poet’s idea of how General Warren inspired his men. 2. What do you think he did in reality? 3. Read the lines that are an answer to those who still hoped for mercy from the British. 4. What lines show the striking contrast between those who fight for hire and those who fight to protect their homes? 5. Which of the appeals in the first and second stanzas seems most forceful to you? 6. Where have you read of a hero who made an argument similar to the one made in the third stanza? 7. How does the Bunker Hill Monument fulfill the prophecy in the last lines of the poem? 8. Notice the interesting rime-scheme and point out how it increases the effectiveness of the poem.

Phrases

greener graves, 385, 3

mercy despots feel, 385, 5

battle peal, 385, 6

bristling steel, 385, 7

leaden rain, 385, 15

iron hail, 385, 15

LIBERTY OR DEATH

PATRICK HENRY

Mr. President,—No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen, if, entertaining, as I do, opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question before the House is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason toward my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.

Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British Ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation—the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us; they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British Ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find, which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the Ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free—if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending—if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the glorious object of our contest shall be attained—we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all that is left us!

They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot?

Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable—and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come!

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, peace!—but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Historical Note. Patrick Henry (1736-1799) delivered this speech at the Virginia Convention, March 28, 1775. For some years this fiery young orator had been active in Virginia in stirring up resistance to the tyrannical acts of the King. In 1774 the royal governor in that colony reported that every county was arming a company of men for the purpose of protecting their committees, which had been formed, as in the other colonies, to work out a plan of coöperation against the British government. In March, 1775, the second revolutionary convention of Virginia met at Richmond. A resolution was offered to put the colony into a state of defense. Some delegates objected to such radical action, and it is to these men that Henry addressed the opening sentences of his speech.

The resolution was adopted. The chief command of the Virginia forces was offered to Colonel Washington, who accepted with the words, “It is my full intention to devote my life and fortune to the cause in which we are engaged.”

Discussion. 1. From reading the first paragraph, what idea do you get of Patrick Henry as an opponent? 2. Do you think Patrick Henry expresses a truth for all time when he says, “In proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate”? 3. Find, in your history, the chief acts of the British Ministry for the ten years prior to 1775. 4. What are the arguments which Patrick Henry uses to convince the delegates of the need of immediate action? 5. What did the next gale sweeping from the north bring to their ears? 6. Notice Patrick Henry’s use of figurative language throughout this speech. 7. Pronounce the following: siren; illusion; arduous; solace; insidious; inestimable; formidable.

Phrases

of awful moment, 386, 8

illusions of hope, 387, 10

arduous struggle, 387, 13

temporal salvation, 387, 16

anguish of spirit, 387, 17

insidious smile, 387, 24

implements of war, 387, 33

martial array, 387, 34

preserve inviolate, 388, 22

inestimable privileges, 388, 22

cope with so formidable, 388, 29

supinely on our backs, 388, 35

delusive phantom, 388, 35

extenuate the matter, 389, 14

GEORGE WASHINGTON TO HIS WIFE

Philadelphia, 18 June, 1775

My Dearest:

I am now set down to write to you on a subject which fills me with inexpressible concern, and this concern is greatly aggravated and increased when I reflect upon the uneasiness I know it will give you. It has been determined in Congress that the whole army raised for the defense of the American cause shall be put under my care, and that it is necessary for me to proceed immediately to Boston to take upon me the command of it.

You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I assure you, in the most solemn manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, I have used every endeavor in my power to avoid it, not only from my unwillingness to part with you and the family, but from a consciousness of its being a trust too great for my capacity, and that I should enjoy more real happiness in one month with you at home, than I have the most distant prospect of finding abroad, if my stay were to be seven times seven years. But as it has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this service, I shall hope that my undertaking it is designed to answer some good purpose. You might, and I suppose did perceive, from the tenor of my letters, that I was apprehensive I could not avoid this appointment, as I did not pretend to intimate when I should return. That was the case. It was utterly out of my power to refuse this appointment, without exposing my character to such censures as would have reflected dishonor upon myself and given pain to my friends. This, I am sure, could not, and ought not, to be pleasing to you, and must have lessened me considerably in my own esteem. I shall rely, therefore, confidently on that Providence which has heretofore preserved and been bountiful to me, not doubting but that I shall return safe to you in the fall. I shall feel no pain from the toil or the danger of the campaign; my unhappiness will flow from the uneasiness I know you will feel from being left alone. I therefore beg that you will summon your whole fortitude and pass your time as agreeably as possible. Nothing will give me so much sincere satisfaction as to hear this, and to hear it from your own pen. My earnest and ardent desire is that you would pursue any plan that is most likely to produce content and a tolerable degree of tranquillity; as it must add greatly to my uneasy feelings to hear that you are dissatisfied or complaining at what I really could not avoid.

As life is always uncertain and common prudence dictates to every man the necessity of settling his temporal concerns while it is in his power, and while the mind is calm and undisturbed, I have, since I came to this place (for I had not time to do it before I left home), got Colonel Pendleton to draft a will for me, by the directions I gave him, which will I now enclose. The provision made for you in case of my death will, I hope, be agreeable.

I shall add nothing more, as I have several letters to write, but to desire that you will remember me to your friends, and to assure you that I am with the most unfeigned regard, my dear Patsy, your affectionate, &c.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Historical Note. George Washington (1732-1799) came from Virginia to attend the second meeting of the Continental Congress held in Philadelphia May 10, 1775. He was at that time commander of the militia of Virginia and sat in Congress in his colonel’s uniform. In the name of “The United Colonies” the Congress voted to authorize the enlistment of troops, to build and garrison forts, and to issue notes to the amount of three million dollars, the original “Liberty Loan” in America. There was an army of about ten thousand men encamped around Boston and these Congress adopted as “The Continental Army.” John Adams rose in his place and proposed the name of the Virginian, George Washington, to be commander-in-chief of this New England army. “The gentleman,” he said, “is among us and is very well known to us all; a gentleman whose skill and experience as an officer, whose independent fortune, great talents, and excellent universal character would command the approbation of all America, and unite the cordial exertions of all the colonies better than any other person in the Union.” The pay of the commander-in-chief was fixed at five hundred dollars a month and on June 15 Washington received the unanimous vote for this all-important office. His lofty stature, exceeding six feet, his grave and handsome face, his noble bearing and courtly grace of manner all proclaimed him worthy of the honor. In a brief speech expressive of his high sense of the honor conferred upon him, he said, “I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman in this room, that I this day declare, with the utmost sincerity, that I do not think myself equal to the command I am honored with. As to pay, I beg leave to assure the Congress that, as no pecuniary consideration could have tempted me to accept this arduous employment, at the expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not wish to make any profit of it. I will keep an exact account of my expenses. Those, I doubt not, they will discharge; and that is all I desire.”

As there was no time for a visit to his home, Mt. Vernon, on the Potomac River, Washington was obliged to give his wife this important information by letter. (In 1759 Washington had married Mrs. Martha Custis, the widow of one of the wealthiest planters in the Virginia Colony. She had two beautiful children at the time of her marriage, but when Washington went north to Philadelphia Mrs. Washington was quite alone, for her son was away from home and her daughter had died a few years before.) Later in the year Mrs. Washington went north and spent the winter with her husband at Craigie house, the army headquarters in Cambridge.

Discussion. 1. Name the fine qualities of Washington shown in this letter. 2. Read the sentence that tells briefly what has happened. 3. What do you imagine was Mrs. Washington’s reply to this letter?

Phrases

inexpressible concern, 390, 2

consciousness of a trust, 390, 13

too great for my capacity, 390, 13

distant prospect, 390, 15

perceive, from the tenor, 391, 4

exposing my character to censures, 391, 8

summon your fortitude, 391, 17

ardent desire, 391, 20

tolerable degree of tranquillity, 391, 22

prudence dictates, 391, 25

temporal concerns, 391, 26

unfeigned regard, 391, 34

GEORGE WASHINGTON TO GOVERNOR GEORGE CLINTON

Valley Forge, 16 February, 1778

Dear Sir:

It is with great reluctance I trouble you on a subject which does not properly fall within your province; but it is a subject that occasions me more distress than I have felt since the commencement of the war; and which loudly demands the most zealous exertions of every person of weight and authority, who is interested in the success of our affairs; I mean the present dreadful situation of the army, for want of provision, and the miserable prospects before us, with respect to futurity. It is more alarming than you will probably conceive; for, to form a just idea of it, it were necessary to be on the spot. For some days past, there has been little less than a famine in camp. A part of the army has been a week without any kind of flesh, and the rest three or four days. Naked and starving as they are, we cannot enough admire the incomparable patience and fidelity of the soldiery, that they have not been, ere this, excited by their suffering to a general mutiny and dispersion. Strong symptoms, however, of discontent have appeared in particular instances; and nothing but the most active efforts, everywhere, can long avert so shocking a catastrophe.

Our present sufferings are not all. There is no foundation laid for any adequate relief hereafter. All the magazines provided in the States of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland, and all the immediate additional supplies they seem capable of affording, will not be sufficient to support the army more than a month longer, if so long. Very little has been done at the eastward, and as little to the southward; and whatever we have a right to expect from those quarters must necessarily be very remote, and is, indeed, more precarious than could be wished. When the before-mentioned supplies are exhausted, what a terrible crisis must ensue, unless all the energy of the Continent shall be exerted to provide a timely remedy!

I am etc.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Historical Note. This letter was addressed to George Clinton, governor of New York from 1777-1795. Washington appealed to Clinton because of the abilities and resources of New York and also because the governor’s zeal as a patriot was well known. At the same time Washington addressed a similar letter to the inhabitants of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia, urging the farmers to provide cattle for the use of the army. He assures them of a bountiful price as well as the knowledge that they have rendered most essential service to the illustrious cause of their country.

Discussion. 1. Read in your history text what is said about the winter of 1777-1778 at Valley Forge. 2. How do the methods of conserving food for the army in Washington’s time compare with those of our own time? 3. How does Washington hope to avert a terrible crisis? 4. Pronounce the following: incomparable; catastrophe; adequate; precarious.

Phrases

fall within your province, 393, 2

zealous exertions, 393, 5

with respect to futurity, 393, 8

incomparable patience, 393, 14

excited to mutiny and dispersion, 393, 15

symptoms of discontent, 393, 16

avert so shocking a catastrophe, 393, 18

adequate relief hereafter, 393, 21

the magazines provided, 393, 21

crisis must ensue, 394, 7

SONG OF MARION’S MEN

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

For Biography, see page 41.

Historical Note. General Francis Marion was a general of the Revolutionary period. He was a leader of a band of men who worried the victorious British troops in the Carolinas in 1780 and 1781 and assisted in driving Cornwallis north, where he surrendered at Yorktown in 1781. Marion and his men in their greenwood fortress remind us of Robin Hood and his merry men.

Discussion. 1. Who is speaking in this poem? 2. What does the word “band” tell you about these men? 3. How do seamen know their way when on the ocean? 4. How do woodsmen know their way in the forest? 5. Read the lines that picture a southern forest. 6. What does the second stanza tell you of Marion’s method of attack? 7. Notice in the third stanza how the men spend their leisure time. 8. When did these hours of release occur? 9. Why is the moon called friendly? 10. Which lines show their quickness of movement? 11. For whom are these men fighting?

Phrases

true and tried, 395, 1

our tent the cypress-tree, 395, 6

walls of thorny vines, 395, 9

glades of reedy grass, 395, 10

dark morass, 395, 12

hollow wind, 395, 24

hour that brings release, 395, 25

battle’s spoil, 395, 28

as if a hunt were up, 396, 2

fiery barbs, 396, 13

broad Santee, 396, 21

smiles like those of summer, 396, 27

TIMES THAT TRY MEN’S SOULS

THOMAS PAINE

These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; ’tis dearness only that gives everything its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; it would be strange indeed, if so celestial an article as freedom should not be highly rated. Britain, with an army to enforce her tyranny, has declared that she has a right, not only to tax, but to “bind us in all cases whatsoever,” and if being bound in that manner is not slavery, then is there not such a thing as slavery upon earth. Even the expression is impious, for so unlimited a power can belong only to God.

I have as little superstition in me as any man living, but my secret opinion has been, and still is, that God Almighty will not give up a people to military destruction, or leave them unsupportedly to perish, who have so earnestly and so repeatedly sought to avoid the calamities of war, by every decent method which wisdom could invent.

I once felt all that kind of anger, which a man ought to feel, against the mean principles that are held by the tories: a noted one, who kept a tavern at Amboy, was standing at his door, with as pretty a child in his hand, about eight or nine years old, as I ever saw, and after speaking his mind as freely as he thought was prudent, finished with this unfatherly expression, “Well! give me peace in my day.” Not a man lives on the continent but fully believes that a separation must some time or other finally take place, and a generous parent should have said, “If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace”; and his single reflection, well applied, is sufficient to awaken every man to duty. Not a place upon earth might be so happy as America. Her situation is remote from all the wrangling world, and she has nothing to do but to trade with them. A man can distinguish in himself between temper and principle, and I am as confident, as I am that God governs the world, that America will never be happy till she gets clear of foreign dominion. Wars, without ceasing, will break out till that period arrives, and the continent must in the end be conqueror; for though the flame of liberty may sometimes cease to shine, the coal can never expire.

The heart that feels not now, is dead; the blood of his children will curse his cowardice, who shrinks back at a time when a little might have saved the whole, and made them happy. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. ’Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death. My own line of reasoning is to myself as straight and clear as a ray of light. Not all the treasures of the world, so far as I believe, could have induced me to support an offensive war, for I think it murder; but if a thief breaks into my house, burns and destroys my property, and kills or threatens to kill me, or those that are in it, and to “bind me in all cases whatsoever” to his absolute will, am I to suffer it? What signifies it to me, whether he who does it is a king or a common man; my countryman or not my countryman; whether it be done by an individual villain, or an army of them? If we reason to the root of things we shall find no difference; neither can any just cause be assigned why we should punish in the one case and pardon in the other.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Historical Note. Thomas Paine (1737-1809), an interesting figure of the Revolutionary period, did much by his writings to help win the war. Franklin on one occasion said, “Where liberty is, there is my home.” Whereupon Paine answered, “Where liberty is not, there is my home.” He came to America from England in 1774 and fought for America’s freedom as a volunteer under Washington. After the Revolution he went to France, where again he fought for liberty in the French Revolution.

This selection is from a pamphlet called “The Crisis,” published in 1776 by Paine. Washington had lost the battle of Long Island and had been compelled to retreat from New York toward Philadelphia. In Philadelphia there were many royalists who hoped that England would win the war. Washington’s soldiers, who had enlisted for short terms, were encouraged to desert or to resign at the end of their terms. The situation was serious.

Washington ordered that “The Crisis” be read before every company of soldiers in his army.

Discussion. 1. Select from these paragraphs sentences that would make good mottoes. 2. What political and military situation did Paine have in mind in the opening sentences? 3. What do you think of the argument of the tavern-keeper at Amboy as compared with Paine’s? 4. What do we think today of our “remoteness from the wrangling world”? 5. What, in the last one hundred years, has brought Europe and America closer together than they were in Paine’s day? 6. Under what conditions does Paine think war is justified?

Phrases

summer soldier, 397, 1

sunshine patriot, 397, 2

celestial an article, 397, 9

expression is impious, 398, 5

unsupportedly to perish, 398, 9

calamities of war, 398, 11

single reflection, 398, 23

foreign dominion, 398, 30

pursue his principles, 399, 3

offensive war, 399, 6