Part 13

Upon returning to Virginia after this triumph, Washington, who had lately married a widow with two children, quietly took his seat in the House of Burgesses. To his dismay, the Speaker praised him for all he had done for his country. Embarrassed by this speech, Washington arose and vainly tried to make the proper response, until the Speaker, seeing his predicament, kindly said: "Sit down, Mr. Washington; your modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the power of any language I possess."

A few months before the seizure of Fort Duquesne, the British captured the fortress of Louisburg for the second time, and Fort Frontenac was destroyed. Thus, step by step, the French were driven into Canada, where James Wolfe, a brave young British officer, was ordered to take Quebec. Now, Quebec is built upon a high rock, and it was impossible to reach its citadel from three sides. But Wolfe, thinking that it could be attacked from the Plains of A´bra-ham, went up the river past the city, and then, one night, drifted noiselessly downstream toward the place where he wished to land.

Wolfe was a charming young man, loving art and poetry, and as he went down the St. Lawrence, he mentioned a poem of Gray's, saying: "I would rather be the author of the 'Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard' than have the glory of beating the French to-morrow." Then he repeated the following lines with deep feeling:

"The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike the inevitable hour; The paths of glory lead but to the grave."

As the brave young man seemed to foresee, the path of glory was to lead him also to the grave. A few minutes later, his boats came within range of the French sentinels, and their challenge was answered in such good French that they let the boats pass. After landing, Wolfe climbed up the steep path, and had his army all drawn up for battle on the Plains of Abraham the next morning.

Montcalm, taken thus unawares, led out his troops and fought bravely; but he was defeated by Wolfe, who, as well as Montcalm, was mortally wounded in the fray. The French commander breathed his last a few hours later, saying: "Thank God, I shall not live to see Quebec surrender!"

His equally brave young enemy, dying on the battlefield, heard his men cry: "They run! they run!" Breathlessly he inquired, "Who run?" but when he heard that it was the French, he fell back, saying: "Now God be praised! I can die in peace."

This memorable battle, fought in 1759, is commemorated by a monument on the Plains of Abraham, on which the names of both generals are carved. There is also a famous monument in West´min-ster Abbey, in honor of Wolfe, the conqueror of Quebec.

The fall of Quebec decided the fate of the French in America. They had already lost the Ohio valley, Forts Ticonderoga and Crown Point, and soon after, Montreal surrendered too.

Although the last French and Indian War was now over in America, the war between France and England continued until 1763, when it was ended by the treaty of Păr´is. Because more land changed hands on this occasion than ever before, the treaty of Paris is known in history as the biggest land deal ever made. To Great Britain France gave up Canada and her claims to all the land east of the Mississippi, except New Orleans. For herself she kept only two small islands in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, on which to dry fish. Spain, siding with France in this war, received from her ally all of Louisiana west of the Mississippi, and the city of New Orleans. To recover Havana, which had been taken by a British fleet, Spain gave up Florida, which had belonged to her ever since Ponce de Leon first visited it in 1512.

All these changes did not please everybody, and the Indians so disliked the English rule that, led by Pon´ti-ac, one of their chiefs, they began a war which bears his name (1763). In the course of this struggle seven forts were taken, and many settlers cruelly slain.

The garrison at De-troit´, however, having been warned that the Indians were planning a surprise, showed so brave a front that Pontiac failed to get possession of that place. But some of his allies had better luck at Michilimackinac. They assembled near there as if to play a game, and tossing their ball nearer and nearer the palisade, finally made a wild dash through the open gates. The garrison was butchered, and only one trader managed to escape. Then, after continuing this war some time longer, the Indians were forced to submit, and three years later, Pontiac, the leader of the revolt, was shot by an Indian who had been bribed to kill him.

LVII. HOW ENGLAND TREATED HER COLONIES.

The people in England had seemed to think all along that the colonies in America ought to do all they could to enrich England. Their idea was that the mother country had a right to the earnings of the colonies, so they treated the colonists like little children, not old enough to think or work for themselves.

Among other things, the English made laws about trade and navigation which were very good for England, but very bad for the colonies. For instance, they said that the Americans should not sell their tobacco, rice, sugar, furs, etc., to any country except England. Any colonist having any of these things for sale had to put them on English ships, and pay freight to carry them to England. Then he had to pay duty before his produce could be sold. Some other articles could be sold to other countries, provided they were sent over in English ships. But no vessels from foreign countries were allowed to come into any of the American ports, either to buy or to sell; and if a colonist wanted something from France, he had to get it by way of England, although it cost him much more.

As if all this were not bad enough, the English were so anxious to sell the goods they manufactured, that they said the Americans must buy of them, instead of making such articles for sale. Thus, a farmer could hammer out rough tools for his own use from the iron dug up on his land, but he could not make even a hoe for his neighbors in any other colony.

The women, who spun and wove their own flax and wool, cut and made ordinary family garments, and plaited straw, which they sewed together for hats, could not even sell a pair of mittens in the next colony. If the New Englanders wanted to exchange codfish for Virginia tobacco, they either had to send it by way of England, thus paying for its being carried twice across the Atlantic, or else they were obliged to pay heavy duties.

In her fear that the colonies would sell to other countries anything she could use, England even forbade Americans to cut down any very large or straight trees without her permission. She said that all this timber should be kept until she needed it as masts for her vessels.

Of course, the colonies did not like this, but they bore it for a long time as patiently as they could. Other countries did not approve of England's trade and navigation laws, either. Both the French and the Dutch, for instance, wanted to trade with the colonies. As the coast was very long, and there were customhouse officers in only a few of the towns, some foreign vessels managed to slip into small bays unseen, and thus began smuggling goods in and out of the country.

As long as France owned Canada, smuggling could not very well be stopped, for French or Dutch vessels caught along the coast said that they were on their way to or from Canada, and that they had been driven out of their course by contrary winds. But when the last French and Indian War was over, foreign vessels no longer had any excuse for coming near North America. The British, therefore, declared they would now seize any foreign vessel they met, and search any house where they fancied smuggled goods could be found.

Orders to search houses were called search warrants. They gave government officers the right to go over every part of a dwelling, and look into every closet and drawer. But people like to feel that their houses are their own, and that no one can come in unless invited. Knowing that those search warrants would make it easy for any officer who happened to dislike them to annoy them constantly, the Americans naturally objected to them.

The man who first spoke publicly against these search warrants, in the old statehouse in Boston, was James O´tis. When he declared that this was not right, he was told it was done in Great Britain as well as in America. Otis then answered that, as the British had a share in making that law, they were, of course, obliged to obey it. But he added that the Americans had no seats in the British Par´lia-ment, had had no share in making the law, and were therefore not bound to respect it.

Many of the colonists agreed with Otis, so the British officers did not dare offend them by making frequent visits to their houses; but they kept ships along the coast to chase all suspicious vessels and see whether they had any foreign goods on board. This proceeding was almost as disagreeable to the colonists as searching their houses.

One of these boats, the _Gas´pee_, in pursuing a colonial vessel, ran ashore in Narragansett Bay, Rhode Island, in 1772. Before it could be worked off the shoal,--which is still known as Gaspee Point,--a number of the best citizens of Providence came in disguise and set fire to the ship. But although the British said their flag had been insulted, and tried to find the guilty parties, they never could lay hands upon them.

LVIII. THE STAMP TAX.

Besides the galling trade and navigation laws to which the poor American colonists had to submit, there were other troubles which you must try to understand. The French and Indian War had cost a great deal of money, which had to be paid. It was also needful to take steps to arrange for the government of the new territory, and especially to defend it, for the British knew that the French and Spaniards would like to get it back.

Now, King William's War, Queen Anne's War, and King George's War had been waged because England and France were fighting in Europe. They had done no good to the colonists, who, even after furnishing men and money, and winning Louisburg, saw it given back to the French. It was different, though, with the fourth war, which was begun in America, while Great Britain furnished men, money, and arms to defend the colonies. The colonies had done their best to help, and the American soldiers, whom the British mockingly called "Yankee Doodles," had shown great courage.

Franklin tried to arrange matters of taxation by his plan of government, which, you remember, was set aside at Albany (1754). The colonies refused it because they said it gave too much power to the king; and the king refused to accept it because it gave too much power to the colonies.

King George's advisers now told him that as Great Britain had run into debt fighting in America, it was only right that the colonies should help to pay the money. They added that it would be necessary to keep an army in America to defend the new-won lands, and that the colonies ought to feed and pay these soldiers.

If Great Britain had asked the colonies, "Will you support an army?" they might perhaps have consented. But instead of letting the Americans talk the matter over and raise the money in any way they pleased, measures were taken by Parliament to raise a large sum, which the king was to use in providing for a standing army.

At that time, many of the British were dissatisfied, too, for the members of the House of Commons no longer represented the whole nation. New cities like Bir´ming-ham, Man´ches-ter, and Leeds had no right to vote at all, while a few tumble-down places, which had been towns two hundred years before, still sent several members to Parliament. Pitt and some other statesmen said that a new census ought to be taken, and that the House of Commons should represent all the people of Great Britain; but the king, among others, thought things ought to remain just as they were.

The two parties were still quarreling over this when the question about America came up, and it was greatly because the British were not fairly represented that unjust laws were made. To raise the money, Parliament decreed that the colonies would have to keep the trade and navigation laws, and pay a tax upon sugar and molasses, and that no newspaper should be printed or deed written except on paper stamped by government officers. This was called the "Stamp Act."

As soon as Pitt heard that the Stamp Act had been passed, he said it was wrong to tax the colonies without their consent. But Parliament would not listen to him. In those days, vessels crossed the Atlantic only once a month. There was no telegraph, no daily newspapers, and the post between large cities like Philadelphia and New York ran only twice or thrice a week. It therefore took some time before the news of the passing of the Stamp Act became generally known in America.

Franklin, who was then in England, did his best to hinder the making of such an unjust law. He was once asked whether the Americans would be angry; and, hoping to make the British understand how unreasonable they were, he told them this story: A Frenchman once came running out of his house with a red-hot poker. He grasped an Englishman, passing by, and said: "Let me run this poker through you!" Of course the Englishman declined. Then the Frenchman said: "Well, let me at least run it a few inches into your body." But when the Englishman again refused, the Frenchman said, in an aggrieved way: "If you won't let me do either, you should at least pay for the trouble of heating this poker!"

Still, all Franklin's tact and good sense could not prevent the law being passed, and he sadly wrote home: "The sun of liberty is set; the Americans must light the lamp of industry and economy."

LIX. THE ANGER OF THE COLONIES.

Most Americans were not ready to take things so quietly as Franklin. Indeed, as soon as the news of the Stamp Act became known, there was great excitement. Bells were tolled, and every one looked sad. In Virginia, Patrick Henry arose in the House of Burgesses, and made a fiery speech which convinced the people that it would be wrong and cowardly to yield. In his speech he said that tyranny must be resisted, and added: "Cæsar had his Brutus, Charles I. his Cromwell, and George III.--" "Treason! Treason!" cried some of the members who were friends of the king. But Patrick Henry went firmly on, "may profit by their example. If this be treason, make the most of it!"

His speech fairly carried the people away, and when he concluded it by saying: "Give me liberty, or give me death," the Virginians drew up a set of resolutions saying that they had the same rights as the people in Great Britain, that they could be taxed only by their assemblies, and that they would not allow any one else to tax them.

In North Carolina, John Ashe said: "This law will be resisted in blood and death." This opinion was so general that Massachusetts suggested that a general "Stamp Act Congress" should be held in New York, in 1765. All but four colonies were represented in it, and six of them drew up a paper saying that as British subjects they could be taxed only by their own consent, and that as they had no members in Parliament, they would not obey that body.

This paper was called the "Declaration of Rights," and they added to it another, saying that there were five things they had to complain about. These were: being taxed without their consent, being tried in some cases without a jury, being hampered in their trading, and being asked to pay the sugar tax and the stamp tax.

Men everywhere began thinking how they could keep their rights, and formed companies called "Sons of Liberty." These bands visited the men chosen to sell the stamped paper, and sternly warned them not to try to do so unless they wished to be treated like traitors. The result was that, so far as is now known, not a single sheet of stamped paper was ever sold in America. Indeed, when the day came when they were to have been first used, a Pennsylvania newspaper appeared with the heading, "No stamped paper to be had."

The excitement was such that even the children marched up and down like their elders, crying, "Liberty, Property, and No Stamps!" or even such hard words as "Taxation without representation is tyranny."

As we have already seen, there were many people in Great Britain who thought the Stamp Act unjust. Two great men, Burke and Pitt, openly said so; and when the news came that the Americans refused to obey, the latter exclaimed: "I rejoice that America has resisted. Three millions of people so dead to all the feelings of liberty as voluntarily to submit to be slaves, would have been fit instruments to make slaves of all the rest."

The British minister, Gren´ville, now sent for Franklin, and asked whether he thought the Americans would pay the stamp tax if it were less. But Franklin said: "No; never! They will never submit to it;" and went on to explain that it was not a question of more or less money, but a question of right and wrong.

As the Americans declared they would not buy a single thing from the British until their rights were respected, British vessels soon went home with unsold cargoes, and British merchants loudly cried that their business was ruined. These complaints, added to the colonists' determined resistance, made Parliament repeal, or call back, the Stamp Act, six months after it was to be enforced.

The stamps which were never used were stored away in a room in the House of Parliament. Here they lay forgotten for many a year, and when they were finally unearthed again, they were either given away as curiosities or destroyed.

The news of the repeal of the Stamp Act set the Americans almost crazy with joy. Bells were rung, bonfires lighted, and speeches made. In New York the people were so happy that they erected a new liberty pole, and made a big leaden statue of King George, which they set up on Bowling Green.

LX. THE BOSTON TEA PARTY.

In their joy the colonists did not at first notice that Parliament, in repealing the Stamp Act, still claimed the right to tax the colonies "in all cases whatsoever." But the very next year Parliament passed what are known in history as the "Townshend Acts," from the man who proposed them. These laws, besides forcing the colonists to feed the king's troops and keep the trade law, placed a tax on glass, paint, tea, and a few other things.

The money raised by these taxes was to be used partly for paying the salaries of governors, judges, customhouse and other colonial officers. Hitherto, the colonies had paid the salaries of governors and judges themselves, and they said that, while it might be all right to let a good king be paymaster, a bad king might make them very uncomfortable by sending out governors like Andros and Berkeley, who, being paid by him, would care only to please him.

Urged on by the Massachusetts people, all the colonies wrote to Great Britain that they would not buy any British goods until the taxes were removed. The king, offended by the letters sent him, ordered the governors to dissolve the colonial assemblies again and again; but he could not prevent the Americans from talking and thinking as they pleased. When his troops began to come, men, women, and children scowled at them, openly calling them "lobsters" and "bloody-backs" because they wore red coats.

As the Massachusetts people talked loudest, and urged the other colonies to resist, King George sent General Gage to Boston with two regiments. They came into the city on Sunday morning, with flags flying and drums beating, a thing which greatly shocked the good Puritans.

The presence of British soldiers in America greatly annoyed the people. They daily grew more and more angry about it, and before long a small fight took place between soldiers and citizens, at Golden Hill, in the city of New York. Two months later, in the midst of the excitement caused by a false alarm of fire in Boston, a British soldier, annoyed by the taunts and snowballs of a mob, shot a man. This became the signal for more firing, which killed five men and wounded a few others (1770).

The excitement caused in the city by the "Boston Massacre," or the "Bloody Massacre," as it is known, in history, proved very great. Although the principal men in Boston knew the soldiers had not been greatly to blame for what had happened, they saw that there would be more trouble unless the troops left the town. Samuel Ad´ams, therefore, explained this to the governor, who asked him if the people would be satisfied if he sent one regiment away. Adams answered that he would find out, but, going to the Old South Meetinghouse, where the patriots were assembled, he passed up the aisle, whispering to his friends right and left: "Both regiments or none."

When Adams reached the platform, and told the people what the governor had said, his friends loudly cried: "Both regiments or none!" The rest of the people shouted the same thing. So the governor, much against his will, was forced to place the soldiers on an island in the bay. But after that, when mentioning those troops, King George spitefully called them "Sam Adams's regiments."

The removal of the soldiers quieted the Boston people a little; still, they often met in Faneuil (fan´el) Hall, where such stirring patriotic speeches were made that the building is often called the "Cradle of Liberty."

The people had said they would not buy anything from Great Britain until the taxes were removed; so, when tea ships came over, their cargoes were either sent back, stored in damp cellars, or destroyed. The British merchants complained about this, and the king himself, who was interested in the tea company, soon found he was losing money, too. He therefore proposed that the price of tea should be reduced, so that even after the tax of threepence a pound was paid, tea would be cheaper than ever before. But this made no difference to the colonists. The question with them was not cheap tea, but untaxed tea.

To prevent any one from buying any of this tea, all the ports were carefully watched; but finally three ships entered Boston harbor with strict orders to land their cargoes. As the governor would not send the ships back, and insisted that the king's orders should be carried out, Samuel Adams finally said, in a large assembly: "This meeting can do nothing more to save the country."

This was evidently a secret signal, for a voice immediately asked in an innocent way: "Will tea mix with sea water?" In reply some one shouted: "Boston harbor for a teapot to-night! Hurrah for Griffin's wharf!" The crowd now poured out of the Old South, and on reaching the street saw a band of men, disguised as Indians, rushing toward the pier. These make-believe Indians took possession of the dock, boarded the three ships, broke open the tea chests with their tomahawks, and poured their contents into the harbor, which thus became a monster teapot at Boston's famous Tea Party.

The Indians were careful, however, not to touch anything else, and when their work was done, they quickly vanished. Still, they were so honest that a padlock, broken by mistake, was secretly replaced by a new one on the next day. It is said that the tide the next morning left heaps of damp tea leaves on the beach. Some was put in bottles and kept, in memory of Boston's Tea Party; but the rest of it was either thrown back into the water or burned, so that no one should be tempted to touch it.

LXI. THE MINUTEMEN.