Part 18

No one can say that Roger Williams was not a good Christian, a better one than those who drove him from his home, for he soon risked his own life to save them from danger.

The fierce and warlike Indians of the Pequot tribe had made an attack on the settlers, and were trying to get the large and powerful tribe of the Narragansetts to join them. They wished to kill all the white people of the Plymouth Colony, and drive the pale faces from the country.

The people of Plymouth and of Boston, too, were in a great fright when they heard of this. They knew that Roger Williams was the only white man in that region who had any influence with the Indians, and they sent to him, begging him to go to the Narragansett camp and ask the Narragansetts not to join the Pequots.

Many men would have refused to go into a horde of raging savages, to procure the safety of their enemies. But Roger Williams was too noble to refuse; though he knew that his life would be in the utmost danger, for some of the bloodthirsty Pequots were then with the Narragansetts.

He promptly went to the Indian camp, and spent three days in the wigwams of the Sachems, though he expected every night to have the treacherous Pequots “put their bloody knives to his throat.”

But the Narragansetts were strong friends of the honest pastor. They listened to his counsel. And in the end, they and another tribe, the Mohicans, joined the English against the Pequots.

Thus it was chiefly due to Roger Williams, that the Colonists were saved from the scalping knives of the Indians.

II

Years of peace and prosperity existed in Providence plantations. The Colony grew. No man interfered with another man’s religion. Those in the other New England Colonies, who did not want to be forced to accept the creed of the Puritans, came to the Colony of Roger Williams.

He was their principal pastor. He was so kind, gentle, and good, that everybody respected and loved him. His people were his children. He had brought them together, and spent his time working for their good; and they looked on him as their best friend.

_Charles Morris_ (_Arranged_)

JULY 6

JOHN PAUL JONES

AMERICA’S IMMORTAL SEA-FIGHTER

_I have not yet begun to fight!_ PAUL JONES

PAUL JONES

_A song unto Liberty’s brave Buccaneer, Ever bright be the fame of the Patriot Rover. For our rights he first fought in his “black privateer,” And faced the proud foe, ere our sea they crossed over In their channel and coast, He scattered their host._

* * * * *

_’Twas his hand that raised The first Flag that blazed, And his deeds ’neath the “Pine Tree” all ocean amazed._

_Ballad_ (_Condensed_)

JOHN PAUL JONES was born in Scotland, July 6, 1747

Was the first American Naval officer to receive a foreign salute for the Stars and Stripes, 1778

Won the victory over the _Serapis_, 1779

He died in Paris, July 18, 1792

His body was brought to America in 1905 and interred with honours at the U. S. Naval Academy, Annapolis.

THE BOY OF THE SOLWAY

Born by the seashore of Scotland where the tide heaves up the Solway, living on a promontory surrounded by romantic scenery, and with the words of seafaring men constantly ringing in his ears, the boy, John Paul, longed to be a sailor.

He was the son of a poor gardener. But he was of that poetic romantic temperament, which always builds gorgeous structures in the future; and no boy, with a fancy like that of John Pul could be content to live the humdrum life of a gardener’s son. So he launched forth with a strong arm and resolute spirit to hew his way among his fellows.

John Paul was only twelve or fourteen years of age, when he became a sailor on board a ship bound to Virginia.

Thus early were his footsteps directed to America, by which his whole future career was shaped.

After reaching America, he took the name of Jones. He rendered his new name immortal, and the real name John Paul is sunk in that of Paul Jones.

_J. T. Headley_ (_Arranged_)

DON’T TREAD ON ME!

In 1775, when our War for Independence broke out, Paul Jones commenced his brilliant career.

Some men regard him as a sort of freebooter turned Patriot--an adventurer to whom the American War was a God-send, in that it kept him from being a pirate. But nothing could be farther from the truth.

When the War broke out, he offered to serve in the Navy. Congress accepted his offer, and appointed him first lieutenant in the _Alfred_.

As the commander-in-chief of the squadron came on board the _Alfred_, Paul Jones unfurled our National Flag--the first time its folds were ever given to the breeze.

What that Flag was, strange as it may seem, no record tells us. It was not the Stars and Stripes, for they were not adopted till two years after.

The generally received opinion is, that it was a Pine Tree with a rattlesnake coiled at the roots as if about to spring, and underneath the motto:

DON’T TREAD ON ME!

If the Flag bore such a symbol, it was most appropriate to Paul Jones, for no serpent was ever more ready to strike than he.

At all events, it unrolled to the breeze, and waved over as gallant a young officer as ever trod a quarterdeck.

Fairly afloat--twenty-nine years of age--healthy, well-knit, though of light and slender frame--a commissioned officer in the American Navy the young gardener saw with joy, the shores receding as the fleet steered for the Bahama Isles.

The result of this expedition was the capture of New Providence with a hundred cannon and abundance of military stores.

And the capture was brought about by the perseverance and daring of young Paul Jones.

_J. T. Headley_ (_Arranged_)

THE FIRST SALUTE

_That Flag and I are twins, born at the same hour.... We cannot be parted in life or death. So long as we shall float, we shall float together. If we sink, we shall go down as one._

PAUL JONES

June 14, 1777, was a great day for the United States and for Paul Jones.

On that self-same day, Congress passed two famous Resolutions;--and _Commander_ Paul Jones and the Flag of the Nation were “born at the same hour”:--

_Resolved_: that the Flag of the Thirteen United States be thirteen Stripes, alternate red and white; that the Union be thirteen Stars, white in a blue field, representing a new Constellation.

_Resolved_: that Captain John Paul Jones be appointed to command the ship _Ranger_.

Thus it came to pass that the gallant young Scotchman, eager to fight for Liberty, hastened to make the _Ranger_ ready for sea. Then he sailed away under orders for France.

From the harbour of Nantes, he convoyed some American ships to place them under the protection of the French fleet in Quiberon Bay. The commander of the French fleet was Admiral La Motte Picquet, who had been ordered by his Government to keep the coast of France free from British cruisers.

And it was there in Quiberon Bay, that John Paul Jones received the first salute ever given by a foreign Nation to our Stars and Stripes--a salute that recognized the Independence of the United States.

It was on Washington’s Birthday, 1778, that Paul Jones wrote to our Government describing this great event:--

“I am happy in having it in my power to congratulate you,” he said, “on my having seen the American Flag, for the first time, recognized in the fullest and completest manner by the Flag of France.

“I was off their bay, the 18th, and sent my boat in the next day, to know if the Admiral would return my salute.

“He answered that he would return to me, as the senior American Continental officer in Europe, the

same salute which he was authorized by his Court to return to an Admiral of Holland, or of any other Republic; which was four guns less than the salute given.

“I hesitated at this; for I had demanded gun for gun.

“Therefore, I anchored in the entrance of the bay, at a distance from the French Fleet. But after a very particular inquiry, on the 14th, finding that he had really told the truth, I was induced to accept of his offer; the more so as it was in fact an acknowledgment of American Independence.

“The wind being contrary and blowing hard, it was after sunset before the Ranger got near enough to salute La Motte Picquet with _thirteen_ guns, which he returned with nine.

“However, to put the matter beyond a doubt, I did not suffer the _Independence_ (an American brig that was with Paul Jones) to salute till next morning, when I sent the Admiral word, that I should sail through his Fleet in the brig, and would salute him in open day.

“He was exceedingly pleased, and returned the compliment also with nine guns.”

Paul Jones thus had the singular honor of being the first to hoist the original Flag of Liberty on board the _Alfred_; first probably to hoist the Stars and Stripes, which still wave in pride as our national emblem; and first to claim for our Flag the courtesy from foreigners due to a Sovereign State.

_Alexander S. Mackenzie_ (_Retold_)

THE POOR RICHARD

Paul Jones gave up the command of the _Ranger_ in order to take command of a larger ship, promised him by the French Government. But he had a long discouraging period of waiting for the new ship.

It was then that he wrote to a French official, those famous words:--

“I will not have anything to do with ships which do not sail fast, for I intend to go in harm’s way.”

After months of desperate waiting and after writing many letters, Paul Jones chanced to be reading a copy of Franklin’s “Poor Richard’s Almanack.” These words caught his eye:--

_If you would have your business done, go--if not, send._

So he stopped sending letters, and hastened to Paris to plead his own cause.

With the help of Franklin himself, Paul Jones got his ship at last. He named it _Bon Homme Richard_, or _The Poor Richard_.

It was while commanding _The Poor Richard_, that Paul Jones gained his famous victory over the British ship, the _Serapis_.

MICKLE’S THE MISCHIEF HE HAS DUNE

With seven ships in all--a snug little squadron for Jones, had the different commanders been subordinate--he set sail in the _Richard_ from France, and steered for the coast of Ireland. The want of proper subordination was soon made manifest, for in a week’s time the vessels, one after another, parted company, to cruise by themselves, till Paul Jones had with him but the _Alliance_, _Pallas_, and _Vengeance_.

In a tremendous storm he bore away, and after several days of gales and heavy seas, approached the shore of Scotland.

Taking several prizes near the Firth of Forth, he ascertained that a twenty-four-gun ship and two cutters were in the roads. These he determined to cut out, and, landing at Leith, lay the town under contribution.

The inhabitants supposed his little fleet to be English vessels in pursuit of _Paul Jones_; and a member of Parliament, a wealthy man in the place, sent off a boat requesting powder and balls to defend himself, as he said, against “the pirate Paul Jones.”

Jones very politely sent back the bearer with a barrel of powder expressing his regrets that he had no shot to spare.

Soon after this, he summoned the town to surrender, but the wind blowing steadily off the land, he could not approach with his vessel.

At length, however, the wind changed and the _Richard_ stood boldly in for the shore. The inhabitants, as they saw her bearing steadily up towards the place, were filled with terror, and ran hither and thither in affright; but the good minister, Rev. Mr. Shirra, assembled his flock on the beach, to pray the Lord to deliver them from their enemies. He was an eccentric man, one of the quaintest of the quaint old Scot divines, so that his prayers, even in those days, were often quoted for their oddity and roughness.

Having gathered his congregation on the beach in full sight of the vessel, which under a press of canvas, was making a long tack that brought her close to the town, he knelt down on the sand and thus began:--

“Now, dear Lord, dinna ye think it a shame for ye to send this vile pirate to rob our folk o’ Kirkaldy; for ye ken they’re puir enow already and hae naething to spare.

“The wa the wind blaws he’ll be here in a jiffie, and wha kens what he may do! He’s nae too good for ony thing. Mickle’s the mischief he has dune already. He’ll burn their hooses, tak their very claes, and tirl them to the sark. And waes me! wha kens but the bluidy villain might tak their lives? The puir weemen are maist frightened out o’ their wits, and the bairns skirling after them.

“I canna think of it! I canna think of it! I hae been lang a faithful servant to ye, Lord; but gin ye dinna turn the wind about and blaw the scoundrel out of our gate, I’ll nae stir a foot. But will just sit here till the tide comes. Sae tak ye’r will o’t.”

Now, to the no little astonishment of the good people, a fierce gale at that moment began to blow, which sent one of Jones’s prizes ashore and forced him to stand out to sea.

This fixed for ever the reputation of good Mr. Shirra. And he did not himself wholly deny that he believed his intercessions brought on the gale, for whenever his parishioners spoke of it to him, he always replied:--

“I prayed, but the Lord sent the wind.”

_J. T. Headley_ (_Arranged_)

PAUL JONES HIMSELF

Paul Jones was slight, being only five feet and a half high. A stoop in his shoulders diminished still more his stature. But he was firmly knit, and capable of enduring great fatigue.

He had dark eyes and a thoughtful, pensive look when not engaged in conversation; but his countenance lighted up in moments of excitement, and in battle became terribly determined. His lips closed like a vice, while his brow contracted with the rigidity of iron. The tones of his voice were then haughty in the extreme, and his words had an emphasis in them, which those who heard never forgot.

He seemed unconscious of fear, and moved amid the storm of battle, and trod the deck of his shattered and wrecked vessel, like one who rules his own destiny. He would cruise without fear in a single sloop, right before the harbours of England, and sail amid ships double the size of his own.

But with all his fierceness in the hour of battle, he had as kind a heart as ever beat.

To see him in a hot engagement, covered with the smoke of cannon, himself working the guns, while the timbers around him were constantly ripping with the enemy’s shot; or watch him on the deck of his dismasted vessel, over which the hurricane swept and the sea rolled, one would think him destitute of emotion. But his reports of these scenes afterwards, resembled the descriptions of an excited spectator. He was an old Roman soldier in danger, but a poet in his after accounts of it.

Jones had great defects of character; but most of them sprang from his want of early education. He was not a mere adventurer--owing his elevation to headlong daring--he was a hard student as well as a hard fighter, and had a strong intellect as well as strong arm. He wrote with astonishing fluency considering the neglect of his early education. He even wrote eloquently at times, and always with force. His verses were as good as the general run of poetry of that kind.

Paul Jones was an irregular character, but his good qualities predominated over his bad ones. And as the man who first hoisted the American Flag at sea, and received the first salute ever offered it by a foreign Nation, and the first who carried it victoriously through the fight on the waves, he deserves our highest praise and most grateful remembrance.

With such a Commander to lead the American Navy, and stand before it as the model of a brave man, no wonder our Navy has covered itself with glory.

_J. T. Headley_ (_Condensed_)

SOME OF HIS SAYINGS

I will not have anything to do with ships which do not sail fast, for I intend to go in harm’s way.

(_During the fight with the Serapis_) Don’t swear, Mr. Stacy, we may at the next moment be in Eternity; but let us do our duty.

I have not yet begun to fight!

I have ever looked out for the honour of the American Flag.

I can never renounce the glorious title of a Citizen of the United States.

I can accept of no honour that will call in question my devotion to America.

JULY 24

SIMON BOLIVAR OF VENEZUELA

THE LIBERATOR

_Colombians! All your beauteous Fatherland is now free.... From the banks of the Orinoco River to the Peruvian Andes, the Army of Liberation, marching triumphantly, has covered all the territory of Colombia with its protecting arms._ ...

_Colombians of the South! the blood of your brothers has redeemed you from the horrors of War!_

BOLIVAR

BOLIVAR

_Build up a Column to Bolivar! Build it under a tropic star! Build it high as his mounting fame! Crown its head with his noble name! Let the letters tell like a light afar, “This is the Column of Bolivar!”_

_Raise the Column to Bolivar! Firm in peace, and fierce in war! Shout forth his noble, noble name! Shout till his enemies die in shame! Shout till Colombia’s woods awaken, Like seas by a mighty tempest shaken,-- Till pity, and praise, and great disdain Sound like an Indian hurricane! Shout as ye shout in conquering war, While ye build the Column to Bolivar!_

BARRY CORNWALL (_Condensed_)

BOLIVAR was born in Venezuela, July 24, 1783

Formed the Republic of Great Colombia, 1819

He died in exile, December 17, 1830

His full name was Simon Jose Antonio de la Santisima Trinidad de Bolivar y Palacios. But he was known as the citizen, Simon Bolivar

Bolivar’s name is pronounced, Seemon Boleevar

The old-fashioned English way was to pronounce it Bollevaar, as in the poem above.

THE PRECIOUS JEWEL

Two boys were playing a royal game of tennis in the royal tennis court at Madrid in Spain. The rich American boy, Simon de Bolivar, from Venezuela, was serving swift ball after swift ball to Ferdinand, Prince of the Asturias and heir to the Spanish throne. The Queen-mother was looking on.

The Prince saw that he was losing, and grew angry. Bolivar, small, alert, with dark eyes flashing, played on, still winning until the Prince refused to play any longer.

But the Queen-mother sternly bade her son finish the game.

So the Prince had to play on, and he lost.

“Some day,” exclaimed Bolivar in triumph, “I will deprive Prince Ferdinand of the most precious jewel in his Crown!”

* * * * *

Years before this tennis-game, a great thing had happened in Venezuela.

On July 24, 1783, a baby boy was born to a rich, noble citizen of the city of Caracas--a baby destined to deprive Prince Ferdinand of the most precious jewel in his Crown.

He was christened Simon Jose Antonio de la Santisima Trinidad de Bolivar, and with his mother’s name added as they do in Spanish America, y Palacios.

A long name for a baby.

Little Bolivar had everything money could buy, and slaves to wait upon him whenever he called. Before he was ten years old, his father and mother died and he was left heir to several large fortunes. He owned many hundreds of slaves and a rich plantation called San Mateo.

He was a restless, adventurous, self-willed boy, small but very alert and bright. He did not like to study much; but he was always ready to sit and listen to his tutor Rodriguez, whom he adored. His black eyes sparkled as his tutor told him of lands where people governed themselves. Sometimes Rodriguez explained the meaning of _Equality, Fraternity, and Liberty_. And the little boy began to dream of Liberty and Independence for his own Venezuela.

But Bolivar did not spend all his time dreaming, he was far too passionately fond of outdoor sports for that. He fished, swam, and learned to shoot. He joined the White Militia of the Valleys of Aragua.

When he was sixteen, his guardian sent him to Spain. There he went to school and lived with his uncle, who was a favourite at Court.

And there, he beat the sulky Prince Ferdinand at tennis.

And there, he met and loved a noble, little Spanish maid, Maria del Toro, just fifteen years old. So Bolivar forgot for a while his threat to deprive Prince Ferdinand of his most precious jewel.

Bolivar and Maria were married, and went on their honeymoon to Venezuela. They reached the lovely plantation of San Mateo, where they lived and were very happy. But, alas! in a few months the girl-bride sickened and died of a fever.

Then the passionate heart of young Bolivar almost broke. He vowed in his grief never to marry again. Soon after Maria’s death, he went back to Europe to try to forget his sorrow in travel and study.

In France he endeavoured to drown his sad memories in gay living, but he could not forget Maria. Then he met Rodriguez, his old tutor, who had been banished from Venezuela.

This Rodriguez was a strange, rough fellow, with many wild ideas and some good ones too. From childhood, Bolivar had confided all his sorrows and joys to him. And, now, as a young man, he was led by his advice.

Rodriguez saw that Bolivar was wasted and consumptive. He persuaded him to go on a walking trip. Knapsack on shoulder, the two set off for their tramp. In Milan, they saw Napoleon crowned King of Italy. They visited many historical spots to which Rodriguez took Bolivar on purpose to arouse again his eager interest in _Equality, Fraternity, and Liberty_.

Together they climbed Mount Sacro in Rome. And there Bolivar remembered his threat to deprive Prince Ferdinand of the most precious jewel in his Crown. He seized Rodriguez’s hand and swore a solemn oath to wrest Venezuela from the Crown of Spain.[6]

For Venezuela--in fact all Spanish America--was the vast treasure-house of Spain, the most precious jewel in her Crown.

THE FIERY YOUNG PATRIOT

Young Bolivar returned to his estates in Venezuela. But he stayed there only for a little while. He soon gave up the easy indulgent life of wealth to serve the Patriot cause.

He was sent on a mission to England. In London he met Miranda, the Flaming Son of Liberty, whose burning, persuasive words blew into a flame, the sparks of Liberty which Rodriguez had kindled in Bolivar’s bosom.

Bolivar joined Miranda’s secret society. He urged Miranda to return at once to Venezuela and strengthen the Patriot cause.

And thus it came about that the Flaming Son of Liberty went back to his native land, and was made Commander-in-Chief of the Venezuelan forces. Then it was, that the struggle for Venezuela’s Independence began to make Spain tremble for the most precious jewel in her Crown.

How the fiery young Bolivar betrayed General Miranda, has already been told in _The End of the Romance_, on page 344. After which Bolivar fled into exile; and Spain confiscated his estates.

But Bolivar never gave up his determination to free Venezuela. And when opportunity offered, he returned and became the head of the Patriot Army.

It is not possible here to tell of all which he and his valiant troops accomplished. They fought against the Spanish forces, they suffered defeats, and they won victories. English, Irish, Scotch, and American men, were volunteers in Bolivar’s Army, and many of them fighting bravely, shed their blood for Venezuela’s Freedom.

It was a terrific war! Nowhere else in all Spanish America was there waged a more ferocious campaign. The wake of the Spanish Generals, Monteverde and Boves, was strewn with the corpses of innocent non-combatants and with the ruins of pillaged towns and burned villages.

“It is war to the death!” exclaimed Bolivar fiercely, in answer to these atrocities.

And war to the death it was, on both sides--a war of ruthless retaliation on prisoners and neutrals.