Volume 12 — VOLUME XII (continued 8)
Reading edition
What insured his condemnation was a paper he handed to the jury, an extract from some author, denying the possibility of witchcraft. Burroughs' speech from the gallows affected many, especially the fluent fervency of his prayers, concluding with the Lord's Prayer, which no witch, it was thought, could repeat correctly. Several, indeed, had been already detected by some slight error or mispronunciation in attempting it. The impression, however, which Burroughs might have produced was neutralized by Cotton Mather, who appeared on horseback among the crowd, and took occasion to remind the people that Burroughs, though a preacher, was no "ordained" minister, and that the devil would sometimes assume even the garb of an angel of light.
At a fourth session of the court six women were tried and found guilty. At another session shortly after, eight women and one man were convicted, all of whom received sentence of death. An old man of eighty, who refused to plead, was pressed to death—a barbarous infliction prescribed by the common law for such cases.
Ever since the trials began, it had been evident that confession was the only avenue to safety. Several of those now found guilty confessed and were reprieved; but Samuel Woodwell, having retracted his confession, along with seven others who persisted in their innocence, was sent to execution. "The afflicted" numbered by this time about fifty; fifty-five had confessed themselves witches and turned accusers; twenty persons had already suffered death; eight more were under sentence; the jails were full of prisoners, and new accusations were added every day. Such was the state of things when the court adjourned to the first Monday in November.
Cotton Mather employed this interval in preparing his Wonders of the Invisible World, containing an exulting account of the late trials, giving full credit to the statements of the afflicted and the confessors, and vaunting the good effects of the late executions in "the strange deliverance of some that had lain for many years in a most sad condition, under they knew not what evil hand."
While the witch trials were going on, the Governor had hastened to Pemaquid, and in accordance with instructions brought with him from England, though at an expense to the province which caused loud complaints, had built there a strong stone fort. Colonel Church had been employed, in the mean time, with four hundred men, in scouring the shores of the Penobscot and the banks of the Kennebec.
Notwithstanding some slight cautions about trusting too much to spectral evidence, Mather's book, which professed to be published at the special request of the Governor, was evidently intended to stimulate to further proceedings. But, before its publication, the reign of terror had already reached such a height as to commence working its own cure. The accusers, grown bold with success, had begun to implicate persons whose character and condition had seemed to place them beyond the possibility of assault. Even "the generation of the children of God" were in danger. One of the Andover ministers had been implicated; but two of the confessing witches came to his rescue by declaring that they had surreptitiously carried his shape to a witches' meeting, in order to create a belief that he was there. Hale, minister of Beverly, had been very active against the witches; but when his own wife was charged, he began to hesitate. A son of Governor Bradstreet, a magistrate of Andover, having refused to issue any more warrants, was himself accused, and his brother soon after, on the charge of bewitching a dog. Both were obliged to fly for their lives. Several prisoners, by the favor of friends, escaped to Rhode Island, but, finding themselves in danger there, fled to New York, where Governor Fletcher gave them protection. Their property was seized as forfeited by their flight. Lady Phipps, applied to in her husband's absence on behalf of an unfortunate prisoner, issued a warrant to the jailer in her own name, and had thus, rather irregularly, procured his discharge. Some of the accusers, it is said, began to throw out insinuations even against her.
The extraordinary proceedings on the commitments and trials; the determination of the magistrates to overlook the most obvious falsehoods and contradictions on the part of the afflicted and the confessors, under pretence that the devil took away their memories and imposed upon their brain, while yet reliance was placed on their testimony to convict the accused; the partiality exhibited in omitting to take any notice of certain accusations; the violent means employed to obtain confessions, amounting sometimes to positive torture; the total disregard of retractions made voluntarily, and even at the hazard of life—all these circumstances had impressed the attention of the more rational part of the community; and, in this crisis of danger and alarm, the meeting of the General Court was most anxiously awaited.
When that body assembled, a remonstrance came in from Andover against the condemnation of persons of good fame on the testimony of children and others "under diabolical influences." What action was taken on this remonstrance does not appear. The court was chiefly occupied in the passage of a number of acts, embodying some of the chief points of the old civil and criminal laws of the colony. The capital punishment of witchcraft was specially provided for in the very terms of the English act of Parliament. Heresy and blasphemy were also continued as capital offences. By the organization of the Superior Court under the charter, the special commission for the trial of witches was superseded. But of this Superior Court Stoughton was appointed chief justice, and three of his four colleagues had sat with him in the special court.
There is no evidence that these judges had undergone any change of opinion; but when the new court proceeded to hold a special term at Salem for the continuation of the witch trials a decided alteration in public feeling became apparent. Six women of Andover renounced their confessions, and sent in a memorial to that effect. Of fifty-six indictments laid before the grand jury, only twenty-six were returned true bills. Of the persons tried, three only were found guilty. Several others were acquitted, the first instances of the sort since the trials began.
The court then proceeded to Charlestown, where many were in prison on the same charge. The case of a woman who for twenty or thirty years had been reputed a witch, was selected for trial. Many witnesses testified against her; but the spectral evidence had fallen into total discredit, and was not used. Though as strong a case was made out as any at Salem, the woman was acquitted, with her daughter, granddaughter, and several others. News presently came of a reprieve for those under sentence of death at Salem, at which Stoughton was so enraged that he left the bench, exclaiming, "Who it is that obstructs the course of justice I know not; the Lord be merciful to the country!" nor did he again take his seat during that term.
At the first session of the Superior Court at Boston the grand jury, though sent out to reconsider the matter, refused to find a bill even against a confessing witch.
The idea was already prevalent that some great mistakes had been committed at Salem. The reality of witchcraft was still insisted upon as zealously as ever, but the impression was strong that the devil had used "the afflicted" as his instruments to occasion the shedding of innocent blood. On behalf of the ministers, Increase Mather came out with his Cases of Conscience concerning Witchcraft, in which, while he argued with great learning that spectral evidence was not infallible, and that the devil might assume the shape of an innocent man, he yet strenuously maintained as sufficient proof confession, or "the speaking such words or the doing such things as none but such as have familiarity with the devil ever did or can do." As to such as falsely confessed themselves witches, and were hanged in consequence, Mather thought that was no more than they deserved.
King William's veto on the witchcraft act prevented any further trials; and presently, by Phipps' order, all the prisoners were discharged. To a similar veto Massachusetts owes it that heresy and blasphemy ceased to appear as capital crimes on her statute-book.
The Mathers gave still further proof of faith unshaken by discovering an afflicted damsel in Boston, whom they visited and prayed with, and of whose case Cotton Mather wrote an account circulated in manuscript. This damsel, however, had the discretion to accuse nobody, the spectres that beset her being all veiled. Reason and common-sense at last found an advocate in Robert Calef, a citizen of Boston, sneered at by Cotton Mather as "a weaver who pretended to be a merchant." And afterward, when he grew more angry, as "a coal sent from hell" to blacken his character—a man, however, of sound intelligence and courageous spirit. Calef wrote an account, also handed about in manuscript, of what had been said and done during a visitation of the Mathers to this afflicted damsel, an exposure of her imposture and their credulity, which so nettled Cotton Mather that he commenced a prosecution for slander against Calef, which, however, he soon saw reason to drop.
Calef then addressed a series of letters to Mather and the other Boston ministers, in which he denied and ridiculed the reality of any such compacts with the devil as were commonly believed in under the name of witchcraft. The witchcraft spoken of in the Bible meant no more, he maintained, than "hatred or opposition to the word and worship of God, and seeking to seduce therefrom by some sign"—a definition which he had found in some English writer on the subject, and which he fortified by divers texts.
It was, perhaps, to furnish materials for a reply to Calef that a circular from Harvard College, signed by Increase Mather as president, and by all the neighboring ministers as fellows, invited reports of "apparitions, possessions, enchantments, and all extraordinary things, wherein the existence and agency of the invisible world is more sensibly demonstrated," to be used "as some fit assembly of ministers might direct." But the "invisible world" was fast ceasing to be visible, and Cotton Mather laments that in ten years scarce five returns were received to this circular.
Yet the idea of some supernatural visitation at Salem was but very slowly relinquished, being still persisted in even by those penitent actors in the scene who confessed and lamented their own delusion and blood-guiltiness. Such were Sewell, one of the judges; Noyes, one of the most active prosecutors; and several of the jurymen who had sat on the trials. The witnesses upon whose testimony so many innocent persons had suffered were never called to any account. When Calef's letters were presently published in London, together with his account of the supposed witchcraft, the book was burned in the college yard at Cambridge by order of Increase Mather. The members of the Boston North Church came out also with a pamphlet in defence of their pastors. Hale, minister of Beverly, in his Modest Inquiry into the Nature of Witchcraft, and Cotton Mather, in his Magnalia, though they admit there had been "a going too far" in the affair at Salem, are yet still as strenuous as ever for the reality of witchcraft.
Nor were they without support from abroad. Dr. Watts, then one of the chief leaders of the English Dissenters, wrote to Cotton Mather, "I am persuaded there was much agency of the devil in those affairs, and perhaps there were some real witches, too." Twenty years elapsed before the heirs of the victims, and those who had been obliged to fly for their lives, obtained some partial indemnity for their pecuniary losses. Stoughton and Cotton Mather, though they never expressed the least regret or contrition for their part in the affair, still maintained their places in the public estimation. Just as the trials were concluded, Stoughton, though he held the King's commission as lieutenant-governor, was chosen a counsellor—a mark of confidence which the theocratic majority did not choose to extend to several of the moderate party named in the original appointment—and to this post he was annually reelected as long as he lived; while Moody, because he had favored the escape of some of the accused, found it necessary to resign his pastorship of the First Church of Boston, and to return again to Portsmouth.
Yet we need less wonder at the pertinacity with which this delusion was adhered to, when we find Addison arguing for the reality of witchcraft at the same time that he refuses to believe in any modern instance of it; and even Blackstone, half a century after, gravely declaring that "to deny the possibility, nay, actual existence of witchcraft and sorcery, is at once flatly to contradict the revealed word of God in various passages both of the Old and New Testament."
%ESTABLISHMENT OF THE BANK OF ENGLAND%
A.D. 1694
JOHN FRANCIS
Not only did the establishment of the Bank of England meet the demands of public exigency at the time; it also created an institution which was to become vitally important in the expanding life of the nation. This custodian of the public money and manager of the public debt of Great Britain is now the largest bank in the world. The only other financial institution that could show an equal record of long stability was the Bank of Amsterdam, which existed from 1609 to 1814.
The national debt of England began in 1693, when William III, in order to carry on the war against France, resorted to a system of loans. This debt, however, was not intended to be permanent; but when the Bank of England was established, the contracting of a permanent debt began. Its advantages and disadvantages to England have been discussed by many theorists and financial authorities. But of the extraordinary service rendered to Great Britain by the far-seeing Scotchman, William Paterson, originator of the plan of the Bank of England, there is no question, although, as Francis shows, the project at first met with opposition from many quarters.
The important position assumed by England, toward the middle of the seventeenth century, renders the absence of a national bank somewhat surprising. Under the sagacious government of Cromwell the nation had increased in commercial and political greatness; and although several projects were issued for banks, one of which was to have branches in every important town throughout the country, yet, a necessity for their formation not being absolutely felt, the proposals were dismissed. During the Protectorate, however, Parliament, taking into consideration the rate of interest, which was higher in England than abroad, and that the trade was thereby rendered comparatively disadvantageous to the English merchant, reduced the legal rate from 8 to 6 per cent., and this measure, although it had been carried by the Parliament of Cromwell, almost every act of which proved odious in the eyes of the Stuarts, was nevertheless confirmed by the legislature of Charles II. In 1546 the payment of interest had been rendered legal, and fixed at 10 per cent. In 1624 the rate had been reduced to 8 per cent.; and with the advance of commercial prosperity it had been found advisable to lower it still further.
There were many reasons for the establishment of a national bank. It was necessary for the sake of a secure paper currency. It was required for the support of the national credit. It was desirable as a method of reducing the rate of interest paid by the state; a rate so high that, according to Anderson, men were induced to take their money out of trade, for the sake of securing it; an operation "big with mischief." The truth is that the times required it. The theorist may prove to demonstration the perfection of his theory; the speculator may show the certainty of its success: but unless it be a necessity called for by the onward progress of society, it must eventually fall to the ground.
That the want of such an establishment was felt is certain. But while such firms as Childs—the books of whom go back to the year 1620, and refer to prior documents; Hoares, dating from 1680; and Snows, from 1685—were able to assist the public demand, although at the exorbitant interest of the period, it does not occasion so much surprise that the attempt made to meet the increasing requirements of trade proved insufficient. In 1678, sixteen years previous to the foundation of the Bank of England, "proposals for a large model of a bank" were published; and, in 1683 a "national bank of credit" was brought forward. In a rare pamphlet entitled Bank Credit; or the usefullness and security of The Bank of Credit, examined in a dialogue between a Country Gentleman and a London Merchant, this idea is warmly defended. It was, however, simply to have one of credit, nor was it proposed to form a bank of deposit; although, by the following remark of the "Country Gentleman," it is evident that such an establishment on a secure scale was desirable. He says:
"Could they not without damage to themselves have secured the running cash of the nobility, gentry, merchants, and the traders of the city and kingdom, from all hazard, which would have been a great benefit to all concerned, who know not where to deposit their cash securely?"
After much trouble this bank of credit was established at Devonshire House, in Bishopsgate Street; its object, as we have related, being principally to advance money to tradesmen and manufacturers on the security of goods. Three-fourths of the value was lent on these, and bills for their amount given to the depositor. In order to render them current, an appointed number of persons in each trade was formed into a society to regulate commercial concerns. Any individual possessed of such bills might therefore obtain from this company goods or merchandise with as much ease as if he offered current coin.
The bank of credit does not appear to have flourished. The machinery was too complicated, and the risk of depreciation and the value of manufactures too great. It was next to impossible for such a company to exist after the Bank of England came with its low discount and free accommodations.
The wild spirit of speculation—that spirit which at various periods has created fearful crises in the commercial world—commenced in 1694. The fever which from time to time has flushed the mind of the moneyed man, and given a fierce excitement to the almost penniless adventurer, was then and in the following year in full operation. The great South Sea scheme in 1720 is ordinarily considered the earliest display of this reckless spirit. But a quarter of a century before, equal ingenuity and equal villany were exercised. Obscure men, whose sole capital was their enormous impudence, invented similar schemes, promised similar advantages, and used similar arts to entice the capitalists, which were employed with so much success at a later period.
The want of a great banking association was sure to be made a pretext. Two "land banks," and a "London bank" to be managed by the magistrates, with several other proposals, were therefore put promisingly forward. One of these was for another "bank of credit"; and a pamphlet published in 1694, under the title of England's Glory, will give some idea of its nature:
"If a person desires money to be returned at Coventry or York he pays it at the office in London, and receives a bill of credit after their form written upon marble paper, indenturewise, or on other as may be contrived to prevent counterfeiting." It was also proposed that the Government should share the profits; but neither of the projects was carried out.
The people neglected their calling. The legitimate desire of money grew into a fierce and fatal spirit of avarice. The arts so common at a later day were had recourse to. Project begat project, copper was to be turned into brass. Fortunes were to be realized by lotteries. The sea was to yield the treasures it had engulfed. Pearl-fisheries were to pay impossible percentages. "Lottery on lottery," says a writer of the day, "engine on engine, multiplied wonderfully. If any person got considerably by a happy and useful invention, others followed in spite of the patent, and published printed proposals, filling the daily newspapers therewith, thus going on to jostle one another, and abuse the credulity of the people."
Amid the many delusive and impracticable schemes were two important projects which have conferred great benefits on the English people. The first of these was the New River Company, the conception of Sir Hugh Middleton; the second was the corporation of the Bank of England. Nature and the great nations of antiquity suggested the former; the force and pressure of the times demanded the latter. It is from such demands that our chief institutions arise. By precept we may be taught their propriety; by example we may see their advantages. But until the necessity is personally felt they are sure to be neglected; and men wonder at their want of prescience and upbraid their shortsightedness when, with a sudden and sometimes startling success, the proposal they have slighted arises through the energy of another.
William Paterson, one of those men whose capacity is measured by failure or success, was the originator of the new bank; and it is perhaps unfortunate for his fame that no biography exists of this remarkable person. As the projector of the present Bank of Scotland, as the very soul of the celebrated Darien Company, and as the founder of the Bank of England, he deserves notice. A speculator as well as an adventurous man, he proved his belief in the practicability of the Darien scheme by accompanying that unfortunate expedition; and the formation of the Bank of England was the object of his desires and the subject of his thoughts for a long time previous to its establishment.
From that political change which had been so justly termed the "great revolution," to the establishment of the Bank of England, the new Government had been in constant difficulties; and the ministerial mode of procuring money was degrading to a great people. The duties in support of the war waged for liberty and Protestantism were required before they were levied. The city corporation was usually applied to for an advance; interest which varied probably according to the necessity of the borrower rather than to the real value of cash, was paid for the accommodation. The officers of the city went round in their turn to the separate wards, and borrowed in smaller amounts the money they had advanced to the state. Interest and premiums were thus often paid to the extent of 25 and even 30 per cent., in proportion to the exigency of the case, and the trader found his pocket filled at the expense of the public. Mr. Paterson gives a graphic description:
"The erection of this famous bank not only relieved the ministerial managers from their frequent processions into the city, for borrowing of money on the best and nearest public securities, at 10 or 12 per cent. per annum, but likewise gave life and currency to double or treble the value of its capital in other branches of the public credit, and so, under God, became the principal means of the success of the campaign in 1695; as, particularly, in reducing the important fortress of Namur, the first material step toward the peace concluded in 1679."
To remedy this evil the Bank of England was projected; and after much labor, William Paterson, aided by Mr. Michael Godfrey, procured from Government a consideration of the proposal. The King was abroad when the scheme was laid before the council, but the Queen occupied his place. Here considerable opposition occurred. Paterson found it more difficult to procure consent than he anticipated, and all those who feared an invasion of their interests united to stop its progress. The goldsmith foresaw the destruction of his monopoly, and he opposed it from self-interest. The Tory foresaw an easier mode of gaining money for the government he abhorred, with a firmer hold on the people for the monarch he despised, and his antagonism bore all the energy of political partisanship.
The usurer foresaw the destruction of his oppressive extortion, and he resisted it with the vigor of his craft. The rich man foresaw his profits diminished on government contracts, and he vehemently and virtuously opposed it on all public principles. Loud therefore were the outcries and great the exertions of all parties when the bill was first introduced to the House of Commons. But outcries are vain and exertions futile in opposition to a dominant and powerful party. A majority had been secured for the measure; and they who opposed its progress covered their defeat with vehement denunciations and vague prophecies. The prophets are in their graves, and their predictions only survive in the history of that establishment the downfall of which they proclaimed.
"The scheme of a national bank," says Smollett, "had been recommended to the ministry for the credit and security of the Government and the increase of trade and circulation. William Paterson was author of that which was carried into execution. When it was properly digested in the cabinet, and a majority in Parliament secured, it was introduced into the House of Commons. The supporters said it would rescue the nation out of the hands of extortioners; lower interest; raise the value of land; revive public credit; extend circulation; improve commerce; facilitate the annual supplies; and connect the people more closely with Government. The project was violently opposed by a strong party, who affirmed that it would become a monopoly, and engross the whole of the kingdom; that it might be employed to the worst purposes of arbitrary power; that it would weaken commerce by tempting people to withdraw their money from trade; that brokers and jobbers would prey on their fellow-creatures; encourage fraud and gambling; and corrupt the morals of the nation."
Previous governments had raised money with comparative ease because they were legitimate. That of William was felt to be precarious. It was feared by the money-lender that a similar convulsion to the one which had borne him so easily to the throne of a great nation might waft him back to the shores of that Holland he so dearly loved. Thus the very circumstances which made supplies necessary also made them scarce.
In addition to these things his person was unpopular. His phlegmatic Dutch habits contrasted unfavorably with those of the graceful Stuarts, whose evil qualities were forgotten in the remembrance of their showy characteristics. Neither his Dutch followers nor his Dutch manners were regarded with favor; and had it not been for his eminently kingly capacity, these things would have proved as dangerous to the throne as they tended to make the sovereign unpopular. In a pamphlet published a few years after the establishment of the new corporation is the following vivid picture of this monarch's government:
"In spite of the most glorious Prince and most vigilant General the world has ever seen, yet the enemy gained upon us every year; the funds were run down, the credit jobbed away in Change Alley, the King and his troops devoured by mechanics, and sold to usury, tallies lay bundled up like Bath fagots in the hands of brokers and stock-jobbers; the Parliament gave taxes, levied funds, but the loans were at the mercy of those men (the jobbers); and they showed their mercy, indeed, by devouring the King and the army, the Parliament, and indeed the whole nation; bringing their great Prince sometimes to that exigence through inexpressible extortions that were put upon him, that he has even gone into the fields without his equipage, nay even without his army; the regiments have been unclothed when the King had been in the field, and the willing, brave English spirits, eager to honor their country, and follow such a King, have marched even to battle without either stockings or shoes, while his servants have been every day working in Exchange Alley to get his men money of the stock-jobbers, even after all the horrible demands of discount have been allowed; and at last, scarce 50 per cent. of the money granted by Parliament has come into the hands of the Exchequer, and that late, too late for service, and by driblets, till the King has been tired with the delay."
This is a strange picture; beating even Mr. Paterson's account of the "processions in the city," and adds another convincing proof of the necessity which then existed for some establishment, capable of advancing money at a reasonable rate, on the security of Parliamentary grants.
The scheme proposed by William Paterson was too important not to meet with many enemies, and it appears from a pamphlet by Mr. Godfrey, the first deputy-governor, that "some pretended to dislike the bank only for fear it should disappoint their majesties of the supplies proposed to be raised." That "all the several companies of oppressors are strangely alarmed, and exclaim at the bank, and seemed to have joined in a confederacy against it." That "extortion, usury, and oppression were never so attacked as they are likely to be by the bank." That "others pretend the bank will join with the prince to make him absolute. That the concern have too good a bargain and that it would be prejudicial to trade." In Bishop Burners History of His Own Times we read an additional evidence of its necessity:
"It was visible that all the enemies of the Government set themselves against it with such a vehemence of zeal that this alone convinced all people that they saw the strength that our affairs would receive from it. I heard the Dutch often reckon the great advantage they had had from their banks, and they concluded that as long as England remained jealous of her Government, a bank could never be settled among us, nor gain credit among us to support itself, and upon that they judged that the superiority in trade must still be on their side."
All these varied interests were vainly exerted to prevent the bill from receiving the royal sanction; and the Bank of England, founded on the same principles which guarded the banks of Venice and Genoa, was incorporated by royal charter, dated July 27, 1694. From Mr. Gilbart's History and Principles of Banking we present the following brief analysis of this important act:
"The Act of Parliament by which the Bank was established is entitled 'An Act for granting to their majesties several duties upon tonnage of ships and vessels, and upon beer, ale, and other liquors, for securing certain recompenses and advantages in the said Act mentioned to such persons as shall voluntarily advance the sum of fifteen hundred thousand pounds toward carrying on the war with France.' After a variety of enactments relative to the duties upon tonnage of ships and vessels, and upon beer, ale, and other liquors, the Act authorizes the raising of 1,200,000 pounds by voluntary subscription, the subscribers to be formed into a corporation and be styled 'The Governor and Company of the Bank of England.'
"The sum of 300,000 pounds was also to be raised by subscription, and the contributors to receive instead annuities for one, two, or three lives. Toward the 1,200,000 pounds no one person was to subscribe more than 10,000 pounds before the first day of July, next ensuing, nor at any time more than 20,000 pounds. The Corporation were to lend their whole capital to the Government, for which they were to receive interest at the rate of 8 per cent. per annum, and 4000 pounds per annum for management; being 100,000 pounds per annum on the whole. The Corporation were not allowed to borrow or owe more than the amount of their capital, and if they did so the individual members became liable to the creditors in proportion to the amount of their stock. The Corporation were not to trade in any 'goods, wares, or merchandise whatever, but they were allowed to deal in bills of Exchange, gold or silver bullion, and to sell any goods, wares, or merchandise upon which they had advanced money, and which had not been redeemed within three months after the time agreed upon.' The whole of the subscription was filled in a few days; 25 per cent. paid down; and, as we have seen, a charter was issued on July 27, 1694, of which the following are the most important points:
"That the management and government of the corporation be admitted to the governor, deputy-governor, and twenty-four directors, who shall be elected between March 25th and April 25th of each year, from among the members of the company, duly qualified.
"That no dividend shall at any time be made by the said governor and company save only out of the interest, profit, or produce arising out of the said capital, stock, or fund, or by such dealing as is allowed by act of Parliament.
"They must be natural-born subjects of England, or naturalized subjects; they shall have in their own name and for their own use, severally, viz., the governor at least 4000 pounds, the deputy-governor 3000 pounds, and each director 2000 pounds of the capital stock of the said corporation.
"That thirteen or more of the said governors or directors (of which the governor or deputy-governor shall be always one) shall constitute a court of directors for the management of the affairs of the company, and for the appointment of all agents and servants which may be necessary, paying them such salaries as they may consider reasonable.
"Every elector must have, in his own name and for his own use, 500 pounds or more capital stock, and can only give one vote; he must, if required by any member present, take the oath of stock, or the declaration of stock if it be one of those people called Quakers.
"Four general courts to be held in every year in the months of September, December, April, and July. A general court may be summoned at any time, upon the requisition of nine proprietors duly qualified as electors.
"The majority of electors in general courts have the power to make and constitute by-laws and ordinances for the government of the corporation, provided that such by-laws and ordinances be not repugnant to the laws of the kingdom, and be confirmed and approved according to the statutes in such case made and provided."
When the payment was completed it was handed into the exchequer, and the bank procured from other quarters the funds which it required. It employed the same means which the bankers had done at the Exchange, with this difference, that the latter traded with personal property, while the bank traded with the deposits of their customers. It was from the circulation of a capital so formed that the bank derived its profits. It is evident, however, from the pamphlet of the first deputy-governor, that at this period they allowed interest to their depositors; and another writer, D'Avenant, makes it a subject of complaint: "It would be for the general good of trade if the bank were restrained from allowing interest for running cash; for the ease of having 3 and 4 per cent. without trouble must be a continual bar to industry."
First in Mercers' Hall, where they remained but a few months, and afterward in Grocers' Hall, since razed for the erection of a more stately structure, the Bank of England conducted its operations. Here, in one room, with almost primitive simplicity were gathered all who performed the duties of the establishment. "I looked into the great hall where the bank is kept," says the graceful essayist of the day, "and was not a little pleased to see the directors, secretaries, and clerks, with all the other members of that wealthy Corporation, ranged in their several stations according to the parts they hold in that just and regular economy." The secretaries and clerks altogether numbered but fifty-four, while their united salaries did not exceed four thousand three hundred fifty pounds. But the picture is a pleasant one, and though so much unlike present usages it is doubtful whether our forefathers did not derive more benefit from intimate association with and kindly feelings toward their inferiors than their descendants receive from the broad line of demarcation adopted at the present day.
The effect of the new corporation was almost immediately experienced. On August 8th, in the year of its establishment, the rate of discount on foreign bills was 6 per cent.; although this was the highest legal interest, yet much higher rates had been previously demanded. The name of William Paterson was not long upon the list of directors. The bank was established in 1694, and for that year only was its founder among those who managed its proceedings. The facts which led to his departure from the honorable post of director are difficult to collect; but it is not at all improbable that the character of Paterson was too speculative for those with whom he was joined in companionship. Sir John Dalrymple remarks, "The persons to whom he applied made use of his ideas, took the honor to themselves, were civil to him awhile, and neglected him afterward." Another writer says, "The friendless Scot was intrigued out of his post and out of the honors he had earned." These assertions must be received with caution; accusations against a great body are easily made; and it is rarely consistent with the dignity of the latter to reply; they are received as truths either because people are too idle to examine or because there is no opportunity of investigating them.
%COLONIZATION OF LOUISIANA%
A.D. 1699
CHARLES E.T. GAYARRE
It was not only as the beginning of what was to become an important State of the American Union, but also as a nucleus of occupation which led to an immense acquisition of territory by the United States, that the first settlement in Louisiana proved an event of great significance. Nothing in American history is of greater moment than the adding of the Louisiana Purchase (1803) to the United States domain. And the acquisition of that vast region, extending from New Orleans to British America, and westward from the Mississippi to the Rocky Mountains, had historic connection with the French settlement of 1699.
As early as 1630 the territory afterward known as Louisiana was mostly embraced in the Carolina grant by Charles I to Sir Robert Heath. It was taken into possession for the French King by La Salle in 1682, and named Louisiana in honor of Louis XIV. In 1698 Louis undertook to colonize the region of the lower Mississippi, and sent out an expedition under Pierre le Moyne, Sieur d'Iberville, a naval commander, who had served in the French wars of Canada, and aided in establishing French colonies in North America.
With two hundred colonists Iberville sailed (September 24, 1698) for the mouth of the Mississippi. Among his companions were his brothers, Sauvolle and Jean Baptiste le Moyne, Sieur de Bienville. The latter was long governor of Louisiana, and founded New Orleans. Of their arrival and subsequent operations in the lower Mississippi region, Gayarre, the Louisiana historian, gives a glowing and picturesque account.
On February 27, 1699, Iberville and Bienville reached the Mississippi. When they approached its mouth they were struck with the gloomy magnificence of the sight. As far as the eye could reach, nothing was to be seen but reeds which rose five or six feet above the waters in which they bathed their roots. They waved mournfully under the blast of the sharp wind of the north, shivering in its icy grasp, as it tumbled, rolled, and gambolled on the pliant surface. Multitudes of birds of strange appearance, with their elongated shapes so lean that they looked like metamorphosed ghosts, clothed in plumage, screamed in the air, as if they were scared of one another. There was something agonizing in their shrieks that was in harmony with the desolation of the place. On every side of the vessel, monsters of the deep and huge alligators heaved themselves up heavily from their native or favorite element, and, floating lazily on the turbid waters, seemed to gaze at the intruders.
Down the river, and rumbling over its bed, there came a sort of low, distant thunder. Was it the voice of the hoary Sire of Rivers, raised in anger at the prospect of his gigantic volume of waters being suddenly absorbed by one mightier than he? In their progress it was with great difficulty that the travellers could keep their bark free from those enormous rafts of trees which the Mississippi seemed to toss about in mad frolic. A poet would have thought that the great river, when departing from the altitude of its birthplace, and as it rushed down to the sea through three thousand miles, had, in anticipation of a contest which threatened the continuation of its existence, flung its broad arms right and left across the continent, and, uprooting all its forests, had hoarded them in its bed as missiles to hurl at the head of its mighty rival when they should meet and struggle for supremacy.
When night began to cast a darker hue on a landscape on which the imagination of Dante would have gloated there issued from that chaos of reeds such uncouth and unnatural sounds as would have saddened the gayest and appalled the most intrepid. Could this be the far-famed Mississippi, or was it not rather old Avernus? It was hideous indeed—but hideousness refined into sublimity, filling the soul with a sentiment of grandeur. Nothing daunted, the adventurers kept steadily on their course. They knew that through those dismal portals they were to arrive at the most magnificent country in the world; they knew that awful screen concealed loveliness itself. It was a coquettish freak of nature, when dealing with European curiosity, as it came eagerly bounding to the Atlantic wave, to herald it through an avenue so sombre as to cause the wonders of the great valley of the Mississippi to burst with tenfold more force upon the bewildered gaze of those who, by the endurance of so many perils and fatigues, were to merit admittance into its Eden.
It was a relief for the adventurers when, after having toiled up the river for ten days, they at last arrived at the village of the Bayagoulas. There they found a letter of Tonty[1] to La Salle, dated in 1685. The letter, or rather that "speaking bark" as the Indians called it, had been preserved with great reverence. Tonty, having been informed that La Salle was coming with a fleet from France to settle a colony on the banks of the Mississippi, had not hesitated to set off from the northern lakes, with twenty Canadians and thirty Indians, and to come down to the Balize to meet his friend, who had failed to make out the mouth of the Mississippi, and had been landed by Beaujeu on the shores of Texas. After having waited for some time, and ignorant of what had happened, Tonty, with the same indifference to fatigues and dangers of an appalling nature, retraced his way back, leaving a letter to La Salle to inform him of his disappointment. Is there not something extremely romantic in the characters of the men of that epoch? Here is Tonty undertaking, with the most heroic unconcern, a journey of nearly three thousand miles, through such difficulties as it is easy for us to imagine, and leaving a letter to La Salle, as a proof of his visit, in the same way that one would, in these degenerate days of effeminacy, leave a card at a neighbor's house.
[Footnote 1: Henry de Tonty was an Italian explorer who accompanied La Salle in his descent of the Mississippi (1681-1682).—ED.]
The French extended their explorations up to the mouth of the Red River. As they proceeded through that virgin country, with what interest they must have examined every object that met their eyes, and listened to the traditions concerning De Soto,[2] and the more recent stories of the Indians on La Salle and the iron-handed Tonty! A coat of mail which was presented as having belonged to the Spaniards, and vestiges of their encampment on the Red River, confirmed the French in the belief that there was much of truth in the recitals of the Indians.
[Footnote 2: De Soto explored this region in 1541.—ED.]
On their return from the mouth of the Red River the two brothers separated when they arrived at Bayou Manchac. Bienville was ordered to go down the river to the French fleet, to give information of what they had seen and heard. Iberville went through Bayou Manchac to those lakes which are known under the names of Pontchartrain and Maurepas. Louisiana had been named from a king: was it not in keeping that those lakes should be called after ministers?
From the Bay of St. Louis, Iberville returned to his fleet, where, after consultation, he determined to make a settlement at the Bay of Biloxi. On the east side, at the mouth of the bay, as it were, there is a slight swelling of the shore, about four acres square, sloping gently to the woods in the background, and on the bay. Thus this position was fortified by nature, and the French skilfully availed themselves of these advantages. The weakest point, which was on the side of the forest, they strengthened with more care than the rest, by connecting with a strong intrenchment the two ravines, which ran to the bay in a parallel line to each other. The fort was constructed with four bastions, and was armed with twelve pieces of artillery. When standing on one of the bastions which faced the bay, the spectator enjoyed a beautiful prospect. On the right, the bay could be seen running into the land for miles, and on the left stood Deer Island, concealing almost entirely the broad expanses of water which lay beyond. It was visible only at the two extreme points of the island, which both, at that distance, appeared to be within a close proximity of the mainland. No better description can be given than to say that the bay looked like a funnel to which the island was the lid, not fitting closely, however, but leaving apertures for egress and ingress. The snugness of the locality had tempted the French, and had induced them to choose it as the most favorable spot, at the time, for colonization. Sauvolle was put in command of the fort, and Bienville, the youngest of the three brothers, was appointed his lieutenant.
A few huts having been erected round the fort, the settlers began to clear the land, in order to bring it into cultivation. Iberville having furnished them with all the necessary provisions, utensils, and other supplies, prepared to sail for France. How deeply affecting must have been the parting scene! How many casualties might prevent those who remained in this unknown region from ever seeing again those who, through the perils of such a long voyage, had to return to their home! What crowding emotions must have filled up the breast of Sauvolle, Bienville, and their handful of companions, when they beheld the sails of Iberville's fleet fading in the distance, like transient clouds! Well may it be supposed that it seemed to them as if their very souls had been carried away, and that they felt a momentary sinking of the heart when they found themselves abandoned, and necessarily left to their own resources, scanty as they were, on a patch of land between the ocean on one side and on the other a wilderness, which fancy peopled with every sort of terrors. The sense of their loneliness fell upon them like the gloom of night, darkening their hopes and filling their hearts with dismal apprehensions.
But as the country had been ordered to be explored, Sauvolle availed himself of that circumstance to refresh the minds of his men by the excitement of an expedition into the interior of the continent. He therefore hastened to despatch most of them with Bienville, who, with a chief of the Bayagoulas for his guide, went to visit the Colapissas. They inhabited the northern shore of Lake Pontchartrain, and their domains embraced the sites now occupied by Lewisburg, Mandeville, and Fontainebleau. That tribe numbered three hundred warriors, who, in their distant hunting-excursions, had been engaged in frequent skirmishes with some of the British colonists in South Carolina. When the French landed, they were informed that, two days previous, the village of the Colapissas had been attacked by a party of two hundred Chickasaws, headed by two Englishmen. These were the first tidings which the French had of their old rivals, and which proved to be the harbinger of the incessant struggle which was to continue for more than a century between the two races, and to terminate by the permanent occupation of Louisiana by the Anglo-Saxon.
Bienville returned to the fort to convey this important information to Sauvolle. After having rested there for several days, he went to the Bay of Pascagoulas, and ascended the river which bears that name, and the banks of which were tenanted by a branch of the Biloxis, and by the Moelobites. Encouraged by the friendly reception which he met everywhere, he ventured farther, and paid a visit to the Mobilians, who entertained him with great hospitality. Bienville found them much reduced from what they had been, and listened with eagerness to the many tales of their former power, which had been rapidly declining since the crushing blow they had received from De Soto.
When Iberville ascended the Mississippi the first time, he had remarked Bayou Plaquemines and Bayou Chetimachas. The one he called after the fruit of certain trees which appeared to have exclusive possession of its banks, and the other after the name of the Indians who dwelt in the vicinity. He had ordered them to be explored, and the indefatigable Bienville, on his return from Mobile, obeyed the instructions left to his brother, and made an accurate survey of these two bayous. When he was coming down the river, at the distance of about eighteen miles below the site where New Orleans now stands, he met an English vessel of sixteen guns, under the command of Captain Bar. The English captain informed the French that he was examining the banks of the river, with the intention of selecting a spot for the foundation of a colony. Bienville told him that Louisiana was a dependency of Canada; that the French had already made several establishments on the Mississippi; and he appealed, in confirmation of his assertions, to their own presence in the river, in such small boats, which evidently proved the existence of some settlement close at hand. The Englishman believed Bienville, and sailed back. Where this occurrence took place the river makes a considerable bend, and it was from the circumstance which I have related that the spot received the appellation of the "English Turn"—a name which it has retained to the present day. It was not far from that place, the atmosphere of which appears to be fraught with some malignant spell hostile to the sons of Albion, that the English, who were outwitted by Bienville in 1699, met with a signal defeat in battle from the Americans in 1815. The diplomacy of Bienville and the military genius of Jackson proved to them equally fatal when they aimed at the possession of Louisiana.
Since the exploring expedition of La Salle down the Mississippi, Canadian hunters, whose habits and intrepidity Fenimore Cooper has so graphically described in the character of Leather-Stocking, used to extend their roving excursions to the banks of that river; and those holy missionaries of the Church, who, as the pioneers of religion, have filled the New World with their sufferings, and whose incredible deeds in the service of God afford so many materials for the most interesting of books, had come in advance of the pickaxe of the settler, and had domiciliated themselves among the tribes who lived near the waters of the Mississippi. One of them, Father Montigny, was residing with the Tensas, within the territory of the present parish of Tensas, in the State of Louisiana, and another, Father Davion, was the pastor of the Yazoos, in the present State of Mississippi.
Such were the two visitors who in 1699 appeared before Sauvolle, at the fort of Biloxi, to relieve the monotony of his cheerless existence, and to encourage him in his colonizing enterprise. Their visit, however, was not of long duration, and they soon returned to discharge the duties of their sacred mission.
Iberville had been gone for several months, and the year was drawing to a close without any tidings of him. A deeper gloom had settled over the little colony at Biloxi, when, on December 7th, some signal-guns were heard at sea, and the grateful sound came booming over the waters, spreading joy in every breast. There was not one who was not almost oppressed with the intensity of his feelings. At last, friends were coming, bringing relief to the body and to the soul! Every colonist hastily abandoned his occupation of the moment and ran to the shore. The soldier himself, in the eagerness of expectation, left his post of duty, and rushed to the parapet which overlooked the bay. Presently several vessels hove in sight, bearing the white flag of France, and, approaching as near as the shallowness of the beach permitted, folded their pinions, like water-fowl seeking repose on the crest of the billows.
It was Iberville returning with the news that, on his representations, Sauvolle had been appointed by the King governor of Louisiana; Bienville, lieutenant-governor; and Boisbriant, commander of the fort at Biloxi, with the grade of major. Iberville, having been informed by Bienville of the attempt of the English to make a settlement on the banks of the Mississippi, and of the manner in which it had been foiled, resolved to take precautionary measures against the repetition of any similar attempt. Without loss of time he departed with Bienville, on January 16, 1700, and running up the river, he constructed a small fort, on the first solid ground which he met, and which is said to have been at a distance of fifty-four miles from its mouth.
When so engaged, the two brothers one day saw a canoe rapidly sweeping down the river and approaching the spot where they stood. It was occupied by eight men, six of whom were rowers, the seventh was the steersman, and the eighth, from his appearance, was evidently of a superior order to that of his companions, and the commander of the party. Well may it be imagined what greeting the stranger received, when leaping on shore he made himself known as the Chevalier de Tonty, who had again heard of the establishment of a colony in Louisiana, and who, for the second time, had come to see if there was any truth in the report. With what emotion did Iberville and Bienville fold in their arms the faithful companion and friend of La Salle, of whom they had heard so many wonderful tales from the Indians, to whom he was so well known under the name of "Iron Hand"! With what admiration they looked at his person, and with what increasing interest they listened to his long recitals of what he had done and had seen on that broad continent, the threshold of which they had hardly passed!
After having rested three days at the fort, the indefatigable Tonty reascended the Mississippi, with Iberville and Bienville, and finally parted with them at Natchez. Iberville was so much pleased with that part of the bank of the river where now exists the city of Natchez that he marked it down as a most eligible spot for a town, of which he drew the plan, and which he called Rosalie, after the maiden name of the Countess Pontchartrain, the wife of the chancellor. He then returned to the new fort he was erecting on the Mississippi, and Bienville went to explore the country of the Yatasses, of the Natchitoches, and of the Ouachitas. What romance can be more agreeable to the imagination than to accompany Iberville and Bienville in their wild explorations, and to compare the state of the country in their time with what it is in our days?
When the French were at Natchez they were struck with horror at an occurrence, too clearly demonstrating the fierceness of disposition of that tribe which was destined in after years to become celebrated in the history of Louisiana. One of their temples having been set on fire by lightning, a hideous spectacle presented itself to the Europeans. The tumultuous rush of the Indians; the infernal howlings and lamentations of the men, women, and children; the unearthly vociferations of the priests, their fantastic dances and ceremonies around the burning edifice; the demoniac fury with which mothers rushed to the fatal spot, and, with the piercing cries and gesticulations of maniacs, flung their new-born babes into the flames to pacify their irritated deity—the increasing anger of the heavens—blackening with the impending storm, the lurid flashes of lightning darting as it were in mutual enmity from the clashing clouds—the low, distant growling of the coming tempest—the long column of smoke and fire shooting upward from the funeral pyre, and looking like one of the gigantic torches of Pandemonium—the war of the elements combined with the worst effects of frenzied superstition of man—the suddenness and strangeness of the awful scene—all the circumstances produced such an impression upon the French as to deprive them for a moment of the powers of volition and action. Rooted to the ground, they stood aghast with astonishment and indignation at the appalling scene. Was it a dream—a wild delirium of the mind? But no—the monstrous reality of the vision was but too apparent; and they threw themselves among the Indians, supplicating them to cease their horrible sacrifice to their gods, and joining threats to their supplications. Owing to this intervention, and perhaps because a sufficient number of victims had been offered, the priests gave the signal of retreat, and the Indians slowly withdrew from the accursed spot. Such was the aspect under which the Natchez showed themselves, for the first time, to their visitors: it was ominous presage for the future.
After these explorations Iberville departed again for France, to solicit additional assistance from the government, and left Bienville in command of the new fort on the Mississippi. It was very hard for the two brothers, Sauvolle and Bienville, to be thus separated, when they stood so much in need of each other's countenance, to breast the difficulties that sprung up around them with a luxuriance which they seemed to borrow from the vegetation of the country. The distance between the Mississippi and Biloxi was not so easily overcome in those days as in ours, and the means which the two brothers had of communing together were very scanty and uncertain.
Sauvolle died August 22,1701, and Louisiana remained under the sole charge of Bienville, who, though very young, was fully equal to meet that emergency, by the maturity of his mind and by his other qualifications. He had hardly consigned his brother to the tomb when Iberville returned with two ships of the line and a brig laden with troops and provisions.
According to Iberville's orders, and in conformity with the King's instructions, Bienville left Boisbriant, his cousin, with twenty men, at the old fort of Biloxi, and transported the principal seat of the colony to the western side of the river Mobile, not far from the spot where now stands the city of Mobile. Near the mouth of that river there is an island, which the French had called Massacre Island from the great quantity of human bones which they found bleaching on its shores. It was evident that there some awful tragedy had been acted; but Tradition, when interrogated, laid her choppy finger upon her skinny lips, and answered not.
This uncertainty, giving a free scope to the imagination, shrouded the place with a higher degree of horror and with a deeper hue of fantastical gloom. It looked like the favorite ballroom of the witches of hell. The wind sighed so mournfully through the shrivelled-up pines, those vampire heads seemed incessantly to bow to some invisible and grisly visitors: the footsteps of the stranger emitted such an awful and supernatural sound, when trampling on the skulls which strewed his path, that it was impossible for the coldest imagination not to labor under some crude and ill-defined apprehension. Verily, the weird sisters could not have chosen a fitter abode. Nevertheless, the French, supported by their mercurial temperament, were not deterred from forming an establishment on that sepulchral island, which, they thought, afforded some facilities for their transatlantic communications.
In 1703 war had broken out between Great Britain, France, and Spain; and Iberville, a distinguished officer of the French navy, was engaged in expeditions that kept him away from the colony. It did not cease, however, to occupy his thoughts, and had become clothed, in his eye, with a sort of family interest. Louisiana was thus left, for some time, to her scanty resources; but, weak as she was, she gave early proofs of that generous spirit which has ever since animated her; and on the towns of Pensacola and St. Augustine, then in possession of the Spaniards, being threatened with an invasion by the English of South Carolina, she sent to her neighbors what help she could in men, ammunition, and supplies of all sorts. It was the more meritorious as it was the obolus of the poor!
The year 1703 slowly rolled by and gave way to 1704. Still, nothing was heard from the parent country. There seemed to be an impassable barrier between the old and the new continent. The milk which flowed from the motherly breast of France could no longer reach the parched lips of her new-born infant; and famine began to pinch the colonists, who scattered themselves all along the coast, to live by fishing. They were reduced to the veriest extremity of misery, and despair had settled in every bosom, in spite of the encouragements of Bienville, who displayed the most manly fortitude amid all the trials to which he was subjected, when suddenly a vessel made its appearance. The colonists rushed to the shore with wild anxiety, but their exultation was greatly diminished when, on the nearer approach of the moving speck, they recognized the Spanish instead of the French flag. It was relief, however, coming to them, and proffered by a friendly hand. It was a return made by the governor of Pensacola for the kindness he had experienced the year previous. Thus the debt of gratitude was paid: it was a practical lesson. Where the seeds of charity are cast, there springs the harvest in time of need.
Good things, like evils, do not come singly, and this succor was but the herald of another one, still more effectual, in the shape of a ship from France. Iberville had not been able to redeem his pledge to the poor colonists, but he had sent his brother Chateaugue in his place, at the imminent risk of being captured by the English, who occupied, at that time, most of the avenues of the Gulf of Mexico. He was not the man to spare either himself or his family in cases of emergency, and his heroic soul was inured to such sacrifices. Grateful the colonists were for this act of devotedness, and they resumed the occupation of their tenements which they had abandoned in search of food. The aspect of things was suddenly changed; abundance and hope reappeared in the land, whose population was increased by the arrival of seventeen persons, who came, under the guidance of Chateaugue, with the intention of making a permanent settlement, and who, in evidence of their determination, had provided themselves with all the implements of husbandry. We, who daily see hundreds flocking to our shores, and who look at the occurrence with as much unconcern as at the passing cloud, can hardly conceive the excitement produced by the arrival of these seventeen emigrants among men who, for nearly two years, had been cut off from communication with the rest of the civilized world. A denizen of the moon, dropping on this planet, would not be stared at and interrogated with more eager curiosity.
This excitement had hardly subsided when it was revived by the appearance of another ship, and it became intense when the inhabitants saw a procession of twenty females, with veiled faces, proceeding arm in arm, and two by two, to the house of the Governor, who received them in state and provided them with suitable lodgings. What did it mean? Innumerable were the gossipings of the day, and part of the coming night itself was spent in endless commentaries and conjectures. But the next morning, which was Sunday, the mystery was cleared by the officiating priest reading from the pulpit, after mass, and for the general information, the following communication from the minister to Bienville: "His majesty sends twenty girls to be married to the Canadians and to the other inhabitants of Mobile, in order to consolidate the colony. All these girls are industrious and have received a pious and virtuous education. Beneficial results to the colony are expected from their teaching their useful attainments to the Indian females. In order that none should be sent except those of known virtue and of unspotted reputation, his majesty did intrust the Bishop of Quebec with the mission of taking these girls from such establishments as, from their very nature and character, would put them at once above all suspicions of corruption. You will take care to settle them in life as well as may be in your power, and to marry them to such men as are capable of providing them with a commodious home."
This was a very considerate recommendation, and very kind it was, indeed, from the great Louis XIV, one of the proudest monarchs that ever lived, to descend from his Olympian seat of majesty to the level of such details and to such minute instructions for ministering to the personal comforts of his remote Louisianan subjects. Many were the gibes and high was the glee on that occasion; pointed were the jokes aimed at young Bienville on his being thus transformed into a matrimonial agent and pater familiae. The intentions of the King, however, were faithfully executed, and more than one rough but honest Canadian boatman of the St. Lawrence and of the Mississippi closed his adventurous and erratic career and became a domestic and useful member of that little commonwealth, under the watchful influence of the dark-eyed maid of the Loire or of the Seine. Infinite are the chords of the lyre which delights the romantic muse; and these incidents, small and humble as they are, appear to me to be imbued with an indescribable charm, which appeals to her imagination.
%PRUSSIA PROCLAIMED A KINGDOM%
A.D. 1701
LEOPOLD VON RANKE
Few historical developments are more distinctly traceable or of greater importance than that of the margravate of Brandenburg into the kingdom of Prussia, the principal state of the present German empire. As far back as the tenth century the name Preussen (Prussia) was applied to a region lying east of Brandenburg, which in that century became a German margravate. At that time the inhabitants of Prussia were still heathens. In the thirteenth century they were converted to Christianity, having first been conquered by the Teutonic Knights in "a series of remorseless wars" continued for almost fifty years. German colonization followed the conquest.
In 1466 nearly the whole of Prussia was wrested from the Teutonic Knights and annexed to the Polish crown. Soon after the beginning of the Reformation the Teutonic Knights embraced Protestantism and the order became secularized. In 1525 the Knights formally surrendered to King Sigismund of Poland, their late grand master was created duke of Prussia, and this, with other former possessions of the order, was held by him as a vassal of the Polish crown. This relation continued until 1618, when the duchy of Prussia was united with Brandenburg, which had become a German electorate.
During the Thirty Years' War the enlarged electorate took little part in affairs, but suffered much from the ravages of the conflict. Under the electorate of George William, who died in 1640, Brandenburg became almost a desert, and in this impoverished condition was left to his son, Frederick William, the "Great Elector," who restored it to prosperity and strengthened its somewhat insecure sovereignty over the duchy of Prussia. The Great Elector died in 1688, and was succeeded by his son, Frederick III of Brandenburg. This Elector, through the series of events narrated by Ranke, became the founder of the Prussian monarchy, and is known in history as Frederick I. He founded the Academy of Sciences in Berlin and the University of Halle.
* * * * *
Frederick I, the next heir and successor to the "Great Elector," though far inferior to his father in native energy of character, cannot be accused of having flinched from the task imposed on him. Above all, the warlike fame of the Brandenburg troops suffered no diminution under his reign. His army took a very prominent and active part in the most important events of that period.
Prince William of Orange might, perhaps, have hesitated whether to try the adventure which made him king of England, had not the Dutch troops, which he was forced to withdraw from the Netherlands for his expedition, been replaced by some from Brandenburg. The fact has indeed been disputed, but on closer investigation its truth has been established, beyond doubt, that many other Brandenburg soldiers in his service and that of his republic followed him to England, where they contributed essentially to his success.
In the war which now broke out upon the Rhine the young Elector, Frederick, took the field himself, inflamed by religious enthusiasm, patriotism, and personal ambition. On one occasion, at the siege of Bonn, when he was anxious about the result, he stepped aside to the window and prayed to God that he might suffer no disgrace in this his first enterprise. He was successful in his attack upon Bonn, and cleared the whole lower Rhine of the hostile troops; he at the same time gained a high reputation for personal courage.
Long after, at the beginning of the War of the Spanish Succession, the presence of the Elector contributed in a great measure to the speedy termination of the first important siege—that of Kaiserswerth, a point from which the French threatened at once both Holland and Westphalia.
But it was not only when led by the Elector that his troops distinguished themselves by their courage; they fought most bravely at the battle of Hochstadt. Prince Eugene, under whose command they stood, could scarce find words strong enough to praise the "undaunted steadfastness" with which they first withstood the shock of the enemy's attack, and then helped to break through his tremendous fire. Two years later, at Turin, they helped to settle the affairs of Italy in the same manner as they had already done in those of Germany; headed by Prince Leopold of Anhalt, they climbed over the enemy's intrenchments, under the full fire of his artillery, shouting the old Brandenburg war-cry of "Gah to" ("Go on"). The warlike enterprise of Brandenburg never spread over a wider field than under Frederick I. Then it was that they first met the Turks in terrible battles; they showed themselves in the South of France at the siege of Toulon; in their camp the Protestant service was performed for the first time in the territories of the pope, and the inhabitants of the surrounding country came to look on and displayed a certain satisfaction at the sight. But the Netherlands were always the scene of their greatest achievements and at that time an excellent school for their further progress in the art of war; there they might at once study sieges under the Dutch commanders, Vauban and Cochorn, and campaigns under Marlborough, one of the greatest generals of all times.
Throughout all the years of his reign Frederick steadily adhered to the Great Alliance which his father had helped to form so long as that alliance continued to subsist; and, indeed, the interest which he took in the affairs of Europe at large was in the end of great advantage to himself and to his house. That very alliance was the original cause of his gaining a crown—the foundation of the Prussian monarchy. It will not be denied, even by those who think most meanly of the externals of rank and title, that the attainment of a higher step in the European hierarchy, as it then stood, was an object worth striving for.
The Western principalities and republics still formed a great corporation, at the head of which was the German Emperor. Even the crown of France had to submit to manifold and wearisome negotiations in order to obtain the predicate of "majesty," which until then had belonged exclusively to the Emperor. The other sovereigns then laid claim to the same dignity as that enjoyed by the King of France, and the Venetian republic to an equal rank with those, on the score of the kingdoms which she once possessed; and, accordingly, the electoral ambassadors to Vienna had to stand bareheaded while the Venetian covered his head. The electors and reigning dukes were but ill-pleased with such precedence, and in their turn laid claim to the designation of "serenissimus," and the title of "brother," for themselves, and the style of "excellency" for their ambassadors. But even the most powerful among the electors found it difficult to advance a single step in this matter, because whatever privileges were conceded to them were immediately claimed by all the rest, many of whom were mere barons of the empire. It is evident that Brandenburg was interested in being freed at once from these negotiations, which only served to impede and embarrass all really important business. There exists the distinct assertion of a highly placed official man that the royal title had been promised to the Elector, Frederick William: his son now centred his whole ambition in its attainment.
Frederick, while elector, was one of the most popular princes that ever reigned in Brandenburg. His contemporaries praise him for his avoidance of all dissipation, and his life entirely devoted to duty; while his subjects were still asleep, say they, the Prince was already busied with their affairs, for he rose very early. A poet of the time makes Phosphorus complain that he is ever anticipated by the King of Prussia. His manners were gracious, familiar, sincere, and deliberate. His conversation indicated "righteous and princely thoughts." Those essays, written by him, which we have read, exhibit a sagacious and careful treatment of the subjects under consideration. He shared in a very great degree the taste of his times for outward show and splendor; but in him it took a direction which led to something far higher than mere ostentation. The works of sculpture and architecture produced under his reign are monuments of a pure and severe taste; the capital of Prussia has seen none more beautiful. He complacently indulged in the contemplation of the greatness founded by his father, the possession of a territory four times as large as that of any other elector, and the power of bringing into the field an army which placed him on a level with kings. Now, however, he desired that this equality should be publicly recognized, especially as he had no lack of treasure and revenue wherewith to maintain the splendor and dignity of a royal crown. In the mind of the father, this ambition was combined with schemes of conquest; in the son it was merely a desire for personal and dynastic aggrandizement. It is certain that the origin of such a state as the kingdom of Prussia can be attributed to no other cause than to so remarkable a succession of so many glorious princes. Frederick was resolved to appear among them distinguished by some important service rendered to his house. "Frederick I," said he, "gained the electoral dignity for our house, and I, as Frederick III, would fain give it royal rank, according to the old saying that 'the third time makes perfect."
It was in the year 1693 that he first began seriously to act upon the project of obtaining a royal crown. He had just led some troops to Crossen which were to serve the Emperor against the Turks; but the imperial ministers neither arrived in due time to receive them, nor, when at length they made their appearance, did they bring with them the grants of certain privileges and expectancies which Frederick had looked for. In disgust at being treated with neglect at the very moment in which he was rendering the Emperor a very essential service, he went to Carlsbad, where he was joined by his ambassador to Vienna, who had been commissioned by the imperial ministers to apologize for the omissions of which they had been guilty. In concert with his ambassador, and his prime minister, Dankelmann, the brother of the former, Frederick resolved to make public the wish which he had hitherto entertained in secret, or only now and then let drop into conversation; the ambassador accordingly received instruction to present a formal memorial.
At that time, however, nothing could be done. The Count of Ottingen, who was hostile to the Protestant princes, was once more in favor at the court of Vienna; the peril from without had ceased to be pressing, and coalition had begun gradually to dissolve; the only result of the negotiation was a vague and general promise.
The Elector did not, however, give up his idea. The elevation of the Saxon house to the throne of Poland, the prospect enjoyed by his near kindred of Hanover of succeeding to that of England, and perhaps the very difficulties and opposition which he encountered, tended to sharpen his appetite for a royal crown. The misunderstandings which arose among the great European powers out of the approaching vacancy of the throne of Spain soon afforded him an excellent opportunity of renewing his demands. The court of Vienna was not to be moved by past, but by future, services.
It would be unnecessary to enter into the details of the negotiation on this subject; it suffices to say that the Prince devoted his whole energy to it, and never lost sight of any advantage afforded by his position. Suggestions of the most exaggerated kind were made to him; for instance, that he should lay his claims before the Pope, who possessed the power of granting the royal dignity in a far higher degree than the Emperor; while, on the other hand, some of the more zealous Protestants among his ministers were anxious to avoid even that degree of approach toward the Catholic element implied in a closer alliance with the Emperor, and desired that the Elector's elevation in rank should be made to depend upon some new and important acquisition of territory, such, for example, as that of Polish Prussia, which then seemed neither difficult nor improbable. Frederick, however, persisted in the opinion that he was entitled to the royal dignity merely on acccount of his sovereign dukedom of Prussia, and that the recognition of the Emperor was the most important step in the affair. He was convinced that, when the Emperor had once got possession of the Spanish inheritance, or concluded a treaty upon the subject, nothing more was to be hoped from him; but that now, while the Elector of Brandenburg was able to render him as effectual assistance as any power in Europe, some advantage might be wrung from him in return.
Influenced by these considerations, he resolved to lay proposals before the Emperor, which acquired uncommon significance from the circumstances under which they were made. At that very time, in March, 1700, England, Holland, and France had just concluded a treaty for the division of the Spanish monarchy, in which the right of inheritance of Austria was utterly disregarded, in order to preserve the European balance of power. Spain and the Indies were, indeed, to fall to the share of the young Archduke Charles, but he was to be deprived of Naples, Sicily, and Milan; and should the Archduke ever become Emperor of Germany, Spain and the Indies were to be given up to another prince, whose claims were far inferior to his. This treaty was received with disgust and indignation at Vienna, where the assistance of Heaven was solemnly implored, and its interference in the affair fully expected.
At this juncture Brandenburg offered to make common cause with the Emperor, not alone against France, but even against England and Holland, with whom it was otherwise closely allied. The only recompense was to be the concession of royal rank to the Elector.
The principal opposition to this offer arose out of the difference of confessions. It is also quite true that the Emperor's confessor, Pater Wolf, to whom the Elector wrote with his own hand, helped to overrule it, and took part in the negotiations. But the determining cause was, without doubt, the political state of affairs. A concession which involved no loss could not surely be thought too high a price to pay for the help of the most warlike of the German powers on so important an occasion. In the month of July, 1700, at the great conference, the imperial ministers came to the resolution that the wishes of the Elector should be complied with; and as soon as the conditions could be determined, involving the closest alliance both for the war and for the affairs of the empire, the treaty was signed on November 16, 1700. On the side of Brandenburg the utmost care was taken not to admit a word which might imply anything further than the assent and concurrence of the Emperor. The Elector affected to derive from his own power alone the right of assuming the royal crown. He would, nevertheless, have encountered much ulnpleasant oppositions in other quarters but for the concurrences which, very opportunely for him, now took place in France and Spain.
The last Spanish sovereign of the line of Hapsburg had died in the mean time; and on opening his will it was found to be entirely in favor of the King of France, whose grandson was appointed heir to the whole Spanish monarchy. Hereupon Louis XIV broke the treaty of partition which had recently been made under his own influence, and determined to seize the greater advantage, and to accept the inheritance. This naturally roused all the antipathies entertained by other nations against France, and England and Holland went over to the side of Austria. The opposition which these two powers had offered to the erection of a new throne was now silenced, and they beheld a common interest in the elevation of the house of Brandenburg.
Frederick had, moreover, already come to an understanding with the King of Poland, though not with the Republic; so that, thus supported, and with the consent of all his old allies, he could now celebrate the splendid coronation for which his heart had so long panted.
We will not describe here the ceremonial of January 18,1701; to our taste it seems overcharged when we read the account of it. But there is a certain grandeur in the idea of the sovereign's grasping the crown with his own hand; and the performance of the ceremony of anointing after, instead of before, the crowning, by two priests promoted to bishoprics for the occasion, was a protest against the dependence of the temporal on the spiritual power, such as perhaps never was made at any other coronation either before or since. The spiritual element showed itself in the only attitude of authority left to it in Protestant states: that of teaching and exhortation. The provost of Berlin demonstrated, from the examples of Christ and of David, that the government of kings must be carried on to the glory of God and the good of their people. He lays down as the first principle that all rulers should bear in mind, they have come into the world for the sake of their subjects, and not their subjects for the sake of them. Finally, he exhorts all his hearers to pray to God that he will deeply impress this conviction upon the hearts of all sovereign princes.
The institution of the order of the Black Eagle, which immediately preceded the coronation, was likewise symbolical of the duties of royalty. The words "Suum cuique," on the insignia of the order, according to Lamberty, who suggested them, contain the definition of a good government, under which all men alike, good as well as bad, are rewarded according to their several deserts. The laurel and the lightning denote reward and punishment. The conception at least is truly royal. Leibnitz, who was at that time closely connected with the court, and who busied himself very much with this affair, justly observes that nothing is complete without a name, and that, although the Elector did already possess every royal attribute, he became truly a king only by being called so.
Although the new dignity rested only on the possession of Prussia, all the other provinces were included in the rank and title; those belonging to the German empire were thus in a manner chosen out from among the other German states, and united into a new whole, though, at the same time, care was taken in other respects to keep up the ancient connection with the empire. Thus we see that the elevation of the Elector to a royal title was an important, nay, even a necessary, impulse to the progress of Prussia, which we cannot even in thought separate from the whole combination of events.
The name of Prussia now became inseparable from an idea of military power and glory, which was increased by splendid feats of arms, such as those which we have already enumerated.
%FOUNDING OF ST. PETERSBURG%
A.D. 1703
K. WALISZEWSKI[1]
[Footnote 1: Translated from the Russian by Lady Mary Loyd.]
So radical and so vigorous were the changes made by Peter the Great in Russia that they roused the opposition of almost the entire nation. Moscow, the ancient capital, was the chief seat of this protesting conservatism; and Peter, resolved to teach his opponents how determined he was in his course and how helpless they were against his absolute power, formed the tremendous project of building a wholly new capital, one where no voice could be raised against him, where no traditions should environ him. He chose an icy desert plain looking out toward the waters which led to that Western Europe which he meant to imitate, if not to conquer.
No other man—one is almost tempted to say, no sane man—would have ventured to erect a capital city in such an impossible place and on the very frontier of his dominions. That Peter not only dared, but succeeded, though at an almost immeasurable cost, makes the creation of the great metropolis, St. Petersburg, one of the most remarkable events of history.
It was the chances of the great northern war that led Peter to St. Petersburg. When he first threw down the gauntlet to Sweden he turned his eyes on Livonia—on Narva and Riga. But Livonia was so well defended that he was driven northward, toward Ingria. He moved thither grudgingly, sending, in the first instance, Apraxin, who turned the easily conquered province into a desert. It was not for some time, and gropingly, as it were, that the young sovereign began to see his way, and finally turned his attention and his longings to the mouth of the Neva. In former years Gustavus Adolphus had realized the strategical importance of a position which his successor, Charles XII, did not deem worthy of consideration, and had himself studied all its approaches. Peter not only took it to be valuable from the military and commercial point of view: he also found it most attractive, and would fain have never left it. He was more at home there than anywhere else, and the historical legends, according to which it was true Russian ground, filled him with emotion. No one knows what inspired this fondness on his part. It may have been the vague resemblance of the marshy flats to the lowlands of Holland; it may have been the stirring of some ancestral instinct. According to a legend, accepted by Nestor, it was by the mouth of the Neva that the earliest Norman conquerors of the country passed on their journeys across the Varegian Sea—their own sea—and so to Rome.
Peter would seem to have desired to take up the thread of that tradition, nine centuries old; and the story of his own foundation of the town has become legendary and epic. One popular description represents him as snatching a halberd from one of his soldiers, cutting two strips of turf, and laying them crosswise with the words "Here there shall be a town!" Foundation-stones were evidently lacking, and sods had to take their place. Then, dropping the halberd, he seized a spade, and began the first embankment. At that moment an eagle appeared, hovering over the Czar's head. It was struck by a shot from a musket. Peter took the wounded bird, set it on his wrist, and departed in a boat to inspect the neighborhood. This occurred on May 16, 1703.
History adds that the Swedish prisoners employed on the work died in thousands. The most indispensable tools were lacking. There were no wheelbarrows, and the earth was carried in the corners of men's clothing. A wooden fort was first built on the island bearing the Finnish name of Ianni-Saari (Hare Island). This was the future citadel of St. Peter and St. Paul. Then came a wooden church, and the modest cottage which was to be Peter's first palace. Near these, the following year, there rose a Lutheran church, ultimately removed to the left bank of the river, into the Liteinaia quarter, and also a tavern, the famous inn of the Four Frigates, which did duty as a town hall for a long time before it became a place of diplomatic meeting. Then the cluster of modest buildings was augmented by the erection of a bazaar. The Czar's collaborators gathered round him, in cottages much like his own, and the existence of St. Petersburg became an accomplished fact.
But, up to the time of the battle of Poltava, Peter never thought of making St. Petersburg his capital. It was enough for him to feel he had a fortress and a port. He was not sufficiently sure of his mastery over the neighboring countries, not certain enough of being able to retain his conquest, to desire to make it the centre of his government and his own permanent residence. This idea was not definitely accepted till after his great victory. His final decision has been bitterly criticised, especially by foreign historians; it has been severely judged and remorselessly condemned. Before expressing any opinion of my own on the subject, I should like to sum up the considerations which have been put forward to support this unfavorable verdict.
The great victory, we are told, diminished the strategic importance of St. Petersburg, and almost entirely extinguished its value as a port; while its erection into the capital city of the empire was never anything but madness. Peter, being now the indisputable master of the Baltic shores, had nothing to fear from any Swedish attack in the Gulf of Finland. Before any attempt in that direction, the Swedes were certain to try to recover Narva or Riga. If in later years they turned their eyes to St. Petersburg, it was only because that town had acquired undue and unmerited political importance. It was easy of attack and difficult to defend. There was no possibility of concentrating any large number of troops there, for the whole country, forty leagues round, was a barren desert. In 1788 Catharine II complained that her capital was too near the Swedish frontier, and too much exposed to sudden movements, such as that which Gustavus III very nearly succeeded in carrying out. Here we have the military side of the question.
From the commercial point of view St. Petersburg, we are assured, did command a valuable system of river communication; but that commanded by Riga was far superior. The Livonian, Esthonian, and Courland ports of Riga, Libau, and Revel, all at an equal distance from St. Petersburg and Moscow, and far less removed from the great German commercial centres, enjoyed a superior climate, and were, subsequent to the conquest of the above-mentioned provinces, the natural points of contact between Russia and the West. An eloquent proof of this fact may be observed nowadays in the constant increase of their commerce, and the corresponding decrease of that of St. Petersburg, which has been artificially developed and fostered.
Besides this, the port of St. Petersburg, during the lifetime of its founder, never was anything but a mere project. Peter's ships were moved from Kronslot to Kronstadt. Between St. Petersburg and Kronstadt the Neva was not, in those days, more than eight feet deep, and Manstein tells us that all ships built at Petersburg had to be dragged, by means of machines fitted with cables, to Kronstadt, where they received their guns. Once these had been taken on board, the vessels could not get upstream again. The port of Kronstadt was closed by ice for six months out of the twelve, and lay in such a position that no sailing-ship could leave it unless the wind blew from the east. There was so little salt in its waters that the ship timbers rotted in a very short time, and, besides, there were no oaks in the surrounding forests, and all such timber had to be brought from Kasan. Peter was so well aware of all these drawbacks that he sought and found a more convenient spot for his shipbuilding yards at Rogerwick, in Esthonia, four leagues from Revel. But here he found difficulty in protecting the anchorage from the effects of hurricanes and from the insults of his enemies. He hoped to insure this by means of two piers, built on wooden caissons filled with stones. He thinned the forests of Livonia and Esthonia to construct it, and finally, the winds and the waves having carried everything away twice over, the work was utterly abandoned.
On the other hand, and from the very outset, the commercial activity of St. Petersburg was hampered by the fact that it was the Czar's capital. The presence of the court made living dear, and the consequent expense of labor was a heavy drawback to the export trade, which, by its nature, called for a good deal of manual exertion. According to a Dutch resident of that period, a wooden cottage, very inferior to that inhabited by a peasant in the Low Countries, cost from eight hundred to one thousand florins a year at St. Petersburg. A shopkeeper at Archangel could live comfortably on a quarter of that sum. The cost of transport, which amounted to between nine and ten copecks a pood (36.07 pounds), between Moscow and Archangel, five to six between Yaroslaff and Archangel, and three or four between Vologda and Archangel, came to eighteen, twenty, and thirty copecks a pood in the case of merchandise sent from any of these places to St. Petersburg. This accounts for the opposition of the foreign merchants at Archangel to the request that they should remove to St. Petersburg. Peter settled the matter in characteristic fashion, by forbidding any trade in hemp, flax, leather, or corn to pass through Archangel. This rule, though somewhat slackened, in 1714, at the request of the States-General of Holland, remained in force during the great Czar's reign. In 1718 hemp and some other articles of commerce were allowed free entrance into the port of Archangel, but only on condition that two-thirds of all exports should be sent to St. Petersburg. This puts the case from the maritime and commercial point of view.