Sustained honor Part 43

"Yes, sir, and I fear badly."

"Let me help you, my man!" said the major, unbuckling his belt.

"Please don't take my canteen, for it contains my water."

"I shall not take anything that does not enc.u.mber you."

Just then one of the Tennesseeans who had gone down to the river for water came along with some in a coffee-pot. The wounded man saw him, and said:

"I am very thirsty, sir, will you please give me a drop?"

"Oh, yes," said the Tennesseean. "I will treat you to anything I have got." The young man took the coffee-pot and swallowed two or three mouthfuls out of the spout, and handed it back. In an instant, Fernando saw him sinking backward. He called to Sukey, who was near, and they eased him down against the side of a tent, where he gave two or three gasps and was dead. He had been shot through the breast.

A number of British soldiers and officers had sought shelter from the fire of the Americans in the ditch on the other side of the breastwork.

These, of course, being unable to retreat came in and surrendered. When the smoke lifted from the battlefield it disclosed a terrible spectacle.

The field looked like a sea of blood, for it was literally covered with redcoats. Straight out before their position, the entire s.p.a.ce occupied by the British troops was covered with dead or wounded. In some places, where the lines had made a stand, they lay in piles like winrows of hay, while the intervals between were more thinly sprinkled. About two hundred yards directly in front of their position, lay a large dapple gray horse, which was said to have belonged to Packenham. Nearly half way between the horse and the breastworks was a heap of slain, marking the spot where Packenham fell; his horse having retreated some distance before it went down.

The battle was over, and Sukey sat down to finish his breakfast which had been interrupted by the stirring event.

The British left seven hundred dead and fourteen hundred wounded on the field, while five hundred were made prisoners making a loss of twenty-six hundred. The Americans lost eight killed and thirteen wounded.

Packenham and three of his general officers slain in the fight were sent to England in casks of rum for burial. The British troops under General Lambert stole noiselessly away on the night of the 19th across Lake Borgne, in small transports, and escaped to the fleet. They then besieged Fort Bowyer for two days, February 20th and 21st, when Major Lawrence, who was in command, was compelled to surrender, and the victors were about to push on to Mobile, when they were arrested by tidings of peace.

The treaty of peace was signed at Ghent on December 24th, 1814, but, owing to the slow means of communication in those days, it was not known in America until the following February, or the battle of New Orleans would never have been fought.

CHAPTER XX.

CONCLUSION.

Though the United States of America had sustained their honor in the war of 1812, the fight was never fought to a finish, nor were the results as satisfactory as might have been hoped.

Had peace been made a little later, America might have obtained much better terms. The war had been waged under great difficulties by the Americans, who were not wholly united, and lacked money, men, arms, ships and experience, yet, under all these great difficulties, the United States came out of the war with the respect of the world, such as it had never before enjoyed. It became formidable to Europe as a great and vigorous power, with which it was not safe to trifle.

This was still more apparent, when the government declared war on the dey of Algiers, one of the pirate princes of North Africa, who, for hundreds of years, had made war on the commerce of all nations almost with impunity. Having violated their treaty, President Madison sent a naval force to the Mediterranean, which, on June 17th and 19th, captured two Algerian vessels-of-war and threatened Algiers. The dey made peace and gave liberty to all prisoners without ransom, and full satisfaction for damages to commerce.

The people of the new republic, learning by experience, in the year 1816, began improving their coast defences and increasing their navy.

Commerce and manufacturers were encouraged. In the autumn of 1816, James Monroe was elected president of the United States. On December 11,1816, Indiana was admitted to the Union as a State.

With Monroe's administration, a new era dawned for America. The failure of the French revolution, and, finally, the failure of Napoleon Bonaparte and the re-establishment of the old monarchy in France, as the result first of the excesses of the French republic, and then of the military interference of Bonaparte with the existing state of things in Europe, had an important influence in modifying the politics of the Republican party in the United States; so they came, partially in Jefferson's administration and completely by the close of Madison's, to follow the wise and vigorous policy pursued by Washington and the Federal party; while the general government and the inst.i.tutions of the country became deeply imbued with the regard to popular rights, and attention to the interests and will of the people that formed the leading idea of Jefferson and the original Democratic, or, as it was then called, Republican party.

The leading events of Monroe's two administrations were the attention given to internal improvements, among which may be mentioned the Erie ca.n.a.l in New York, the encouragement of manufactures, the acquisition of Florida by treaty, the Seminole war, the Missouri compromise, December 14th, 1819, the Monroe Doctrine, promulgated in 1822, and the visit of General Lafayette to the United States, in August, 1824.

But little explanation of these events is necessary. In December, 1817, Mississippi was admitted into the Union, and Alabama became a territory.

On March 2, 1819, Arkansas was organized into a territory, and on December 14, Alabama was admitted to the Union. In this year commenced the earnest and acrimonious discussion between the North and South in regard to the extension of slavery. Both Maine and Missouri sought admission as States. Maine was admitted, March 15th, 1820, and, after a two years' wild debate, it was thought the whole question of slavery was settled by the Missouri Compromise, February 27, 1821. This compromise was the adoption of a provision in the bill for the admission of Missouri, that in all territory south of thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes north lat.i.tude (the southern boundary of the State of Missouri) slavery might exist; but it was prohibited in the region north of that line. A member of congress from Georgia prophetically said in the course of the debate:

"A fire has been kindled, which all the waters of the ocean cannot put out, and which only seas of blood can extinguish." Had the Missouri Compromise been kept inviolate to the present day, slavery might still have existed below thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes north lat.i.tude.

The commerce of the United States was greatly injured by swarms of privateers under Spanish-American flags, who had degenerated into pirates, and so became outlaws, subject to chastis.e.m.e.nt by any nation.

They infested the West Indian seas and the northern coast of South America. Against these pirates and to protect American commerce, the United States sent Commodore Perry, with two ships of war, in the spring of 1819. Perry died of yellow fever soon after his arrival in southern waters. In June, 1822, Captain Allen, of the United States schooner _Alligator_, successfully fought a band of pirates in the West Indies, captured one of their schooners, and recaptured five American vessels; but Captain Allen was subsequently killed in an encounter with the bold buccaneers. The next year Commodore Porter, with a larger force, entered the pirate infested waters and almost completely destroyed the buccaneers. It was the policy of the government of the United States to favor the revolt of the Spanish-American provinces, whose flag these pirates had dishonored, as a means for preventing the establishment, in the future, of monarchical powers on the American continent. The latter policy was avowed by the president, and has never been lost sight of by our government, and is known in history as the "Monroe Doctrine."

Accordingly, on the recommendation of the president, congress, early in 1822, resolved by a unanimous vote to recognize the independence of five of the revolted colonies, and appropriated $100,000 to defray the expenses of envoys to the seat of government of each, whom the president soon afterward appointed.

The year 1824 was marked by the visit of Washington's and America's best friend General Lafayette. As every boy has read of the visit of this good man, only a brief mention of so important an event is necessary. He arrived at New York August 15, 1824, and never did visitor receive so warm welcome by any nation.

"Many interesting incidents occurred during Lafayette's tour through the country. A touching one was related to the writer, many years ago, by George Washington Parke Custis, the adopted son of General Washington.

In October, 1824, Lafayette visited Mount Vernon and the tomb of Washington. He was conveyed to the sh.o.r.e from the steamboat in a barge, accompanied by his son (who had lived at Mount Vernon with Custis when they were boys), secretary John C. Calhoun, and Mr. Custis. At the sh.o.r.e, he was received by Lawrence Lewis, a nephew of Washington, and the family of Judge Bushrod Washington, who was absent on official business. He was conducted to the mansion where, forty years before, he took his last leave of the patriot, whom he most sincerely loved as a father. Then the company proceeded to the tomb of Washington (the old one on the brow of the hill), when Mr. Custis, after a brief speech, presented the general with a gold ring containing a lock of Washington's hair. Lafayette received it with emotion, and, after thanking the donor, he affectionately embraced him and the other gentlemen present. Then he fervently pressed his lips to the door of the vault. It was opened and there were displayed the coffins of Washington and his wife, decorated with flowers. The general descended the steps, kissed the leaden caskets, while tears suffused his cheeks, and then reverently retired."

[Footnote: Lossing's "Our Country," Vol. V., p. 1327.]

Shortly after peace was declared, Fernando's regiment was mustered out of the service, and he and Sukey went to their homes in Ohio. Both had done their share toward preserving the honor of their country and wished to retire to private life. A great change had come over Sukey. The text quoted by Fernando on the morning when they found Captain Snipes dead among the rocks seemed ever to ring in his ear.

"Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord." He proceeded to a careful study of the sentence, and from that became a student of the Bible. A few days after their return, he said:

"Fernando, what I did during the war was right, but was not done in the right spirit. I shot from revenge. I killed because I hated the British officers. I seemed to feel the stinging cuts of the cat on my back. That flogging made a devil of me. I hated the sight of a redcoat. It's all gone now--not that my revenge is satiated, but because I am changed. A new light has been opened up to my mind, and I can see it was no disgrace to be flogged for freedom. It was the ignorance of my enemies that I should have pitied instead of condemned."

Fernando suspected the bent of Sukey's mind long before he made the announcement that he intended to enter the ministry. Back to the Maryland Academy at Baltimore went Sukey. He entered the theological department, and four years later began a long and successful ministerial career.

Major Stevens had not forgotten his promise to pay the Maryland village a visit. If he had been disposed to forget his promise, which he was not, he would have been reminded of it by a letter which he received shortly after he returned home. The envelope was small, and the superscription was written in a neat feminine hand. Small as the envelope was, the letter contained much, for it was closely written and every page filled from top to bottom. There were other letters and pet.i.tions from the grateful citizens asking him to be present at the barbecue and Fourth of July celebration at the town of Mariana. None of these letters or invitations had stronger effect to induce him to take a journey to Maryland, than the closely penned missive did, though it was only a friendly letter.

Fernando set out the first of June. Peace again reigned over the fair land, and the country was all ablaze with glory. The ploughboy's whistle was heard in every field in harmony with the lark. The journey by mail coach was a pleasant one, for, being in no great haste, he traveled by easy stages, stopping over frequently to rest. He saw on every hand evidence of awakening interest and prosperity. New houses were building; new towns were laid out; new fields were inviting the ploughman; the busy hum of industry everywhere filled the heart of the patriot, and he more than once exclaimed:

"What a great country is ours!"

He arrived at Baltimore at the close of a delightful day, and alighted in front of the princ.i.p.al tavern. Some one, rushing across the street, pushed pedestrians right and left and howled in a voice loud enough to be heard three blocks away:

"Tear and ages! Clear the track!--that's himself--divil a one else!"

This exclamation came from Terrence Malone, who, bareheaded and in shirt sleeves, was rushing through the throng of people on the street in reckless disregard of high hats and crinoline. Women screamed and one hysterical creature tried to faint, but was restrained by the fear that her elegant costume might be soiled.

"Call the watchman! Take that fellow and lock him up! knock him down!

Who is the wretch?"

These are only a part of the imprecations heaped on the devoted head of Terrence Malone, who, regardless of everything and everybody, burst his way through the crowd and reached Fernando's side.

"O, murther! O; holy mother! O, Moses! Is it yersilf safe afther all?"

The poor fellow could say no more, but burst into tears, for a more tender heart never beat in any breast. Terrence had just arrived an hour before in Baltimore, having come from a long cruise in which he brought four prizes, for the privateers were slow to learn that the war was over. He had put up at a rival house across the street and just removed his coat for a bath, when, looking out of the window, he recognized his old friend alighting from the stage coach.

All former arrangements were cancelled and Fernando and Terrence that evening occupied the same room. There was much to talk about. Terrence told him that Mr. Hugh St. Mark the "illigant" gunner had served in the last cruise on his vessel, and he never seemed to tire of talking about him. He was a "gintleman," from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head. Mr. St. Mark was on the ship in the harbor, and next day came ash.o.r.e. He greeted the major with his kind quiet smile. Fernando learned that neither had been to Mariana since the bombardment and destruction of the _Xenophon_. He prevailed on them to accompany him, and next day in a swift yacht they sailed out of the harbor and down the coast. The scenery revived many recollections of Fernando's early experience. They pa.s.sed the point where he had fought his duel, and he could not repress a smile at the ludicrous termination of what had so nearly proved a serious affair. Terrence did most of the talking, for Fernando was busy with his own reflections. He was asking himself if it might be possible that he would be just in time to witness the nuptials of Matson and Morgianna. He had never freed himself from the thought that she loved the lieutenant. Her regard for himself was grat.i.tude not love. He would not allow himself to believe that she entertained a more tender sentiment.

When they arrived at Mariana the people congregated in a great crowd on the beach, and the local martial band, consisting of three drums and a fife, played "Yankee Doodle." while Fernando and his friends were escorted to the tavern. Here a local orator, who had been three times an unsuccessful candidate for a seat in the halls of the legislature, made a short speech. This had scarcely terminated in three rousing cheers, when a carriage from Captain Lane's house came rattling down the street.

The captain was in the vehicle.

"Why are you cheering? Who has arrived?" he demanded.

"Major Stevens, who saved Mariana, when the British were about to take it," the orator answered.