Chapter XI: Introduction (5)

It is quite evident, even from the present surface survey of the part played by the Irish early in our history, that the Irish took a prominent part in the settlement of the original thirteen colonies. It seems strange, but yet it is true, that there is a paucity of recognition of the splendid services of the Irish emigrant on the part of some historians. Irish may be met with, however, everywhere in the early records. By hardy pluck and upbuilding, energy and sterling personality they made their way even in the face of prejudice and bigotry which were occasionally met with.

At the present day men of the Irish race and Irish ancestry are at the forefront in many lines of human endeavor, as might easily be shown by the quotation of names and achievements. I feel that in this glorious land of promise we have our eyes on the ideal and are ever improving, ever growing, doing our duty as we go, and leaving the world better, not only by deeds done and tasks performed, but better still by the cheering word and hearty sympathy, by the shedding of radiant happiness and buoyancy of spirit about us as the Irishman has been wont to do in all times and in all climes. We Americans of Irish descent can hold our heads high in the spirit of things done, in the fairness of our natures and the purity of our motives, seeking pure justice and asking but the favors that in all charity we give to others.

THE IRISH IN THE EARLY DAYS OF ST. LOUIS.

BY REV. CORNELIUS F. O’LEARY OF WELLSTON, MO.

“_Quae regio in terris nostri non plena laboris?_”

If our Mantuan bard could have looked into the not very distant future he would have beheld a people immeasurably more cosmopolitan than the Trojans, and infinitely more deserving of the above proud boast. Having in mind the scattered children of the Gael, could he not ask with greater truth: “What land on earth has not borne witness to our toil?”

Who has not heard of the military adventures of the ancient Gael pursuing his conquering march to the very walls of Rome and dictating to its proud citizens humiliating terms of surrender? It was on one of these occasions that a Roman general complained of the severity of the fine when the intrepid Gael added to the scale by placing thereon his sword, uttering the _Vae Victis_ of the Conqueror.

Abandoning the course of horrid war, which is hell let loose, the men of Erin turned their minds and hearts to Christianity. The land became dotted over with churches and monasteries until the very place became Religion. Then a beautiful chapter opens to us—the exodus of Irish missionaries to foreign lands—to England and Scotland, to Germany and France, to Belgium and even Italy, in allusion to which Darcy McGee remarks that the sun rises in the West and sets in the East—“Ireland enlightens Rome by the light derived from Rome”—

But the flight is far too long;
Weak the wings of worldly song;
David’s muse alone could rise
To a theme of such emprise
As to give in long array
Those who in that happiest day
Bore on faith’s bright flag unfurl’d
Erin’s name throughout the world.

Then came a dark night which brooded over the land, and Erin’s sons were forced to emigrate to France and Spain and finally to America, that Greater Island, by which name she was known ten centuries ago.

To pursue the history of the Irish in America is the pleasing and fruitful task set before the members of this grand society, and so I hope I am in harmony with its spirit and aim if I essay to trace the footsteps of the Irish in the early days of St. Louis.

By the Treaty of Paris 1762 New Orleans and Upper Louisiana became the property of Spain. The Kings of that country sent Antonio de Ulloa, Viceroy of Louisiana, to establish Spanish authority here in 1767. The French did not at first take kindly to Spanish domination, and so the gentle Ulloa is ignominiously expelled from New Orleans. Spain, in its anger, turned to an Irish officer in its military service, Count Alexander O’Reilly, who soon brought the French of Louisiana to see the folly of resistance. Count O’Reilly was born at Baltrassna, Co. Meath, Ireland, A. D. 1722. He had seen much service in European wars, chiefly under the flag of Spain. The following list of his titles shows the prominence he attained in military life: Don Alexander O’Reilly, Commander of Benfayon of the Order of Alcantara; Lieutenant-General of the armies of His Most Catholic Majesty, Inspector General of Infantry, and by Commission Governor and Captain-General of the Province of Louisiana. Promoted to be Field Marshal, he was subsequently sent to Havana, which he newly fortified and strengthened, and later was sent in June, 1768, to recover Louisiana. Though never having set foot in St. Louis, he is credited with having outlined its governmental policy.

In the year 1804, when the formal transfer of Louisiana occurred, we find mention of John Mullanphy’s arrival in the village of St. Louis. Born in 1758 near Enniskillen, Co. Fermanaugh, Ireland, John Mullanphy entered the Irish Brigade in the service of France at the age of twenty. At its dispersion, on the imprisonment of Louis XVI, Lieutenant Mullanphy returned to Ireland, and in 1789 married Miss Elizabeth Brown. Three years after this Mr. and Mrs. Mullanphy, with one child, sailed for America, landing in Philadelphia, which became their home for a time. They next resided in Baltimore, where they formed the acquaintance of Rev. John Carroll, afterwards the first bishop of America, between whom a strong friendship took root. Remembering the lines of Berkeley, “Westward the star of Empire takes its way,” our citizen of the world turned towards Kentucky, where he established his home in 1798. While here his home in Frankfort became the stopping place of the early Catholic Missionary, and the temporary chapel of the scattered children of the Church. In 1804 Mr. Gratiot coming to Frankfort, his acquaintance with Mr. Mullanphy grew into closest friendship, which led our hero to move to St. Louis, where he was appointed Justice of the Peace. Here fortune smiled upon him, but he was not the man whom riches could corrupt. He made to himself friends of the Mammon of Iniquity, and so filled his life with noble deeds. In 1827 he settled upon the Ladies of the Sacred Heart twenty-four arpents of land, adjoining the village, today worth millions, on which was a brick house, and gave them ready money for its necessary furnishings. The condition of this bequest was that the Sisters should care for and educate in perpetuity twenty young orphan girls. Mr. Mullanphy assisted in establishing an orphan home for boys. He likewise founded a home for aged and destitute widows, and, assisted by Bishop Rosati, brought out the Sisters of Charity—the spiritual daughters of St. Vincent de Paul—to take charge of a hospital, the first of its kind in St. Louis, which is now called by his name. Besides his never-failing daily charities, he in times of scarcity gave sums of money to the bakers to furnish bread to the hungry poor, and when the cholera was raging employed a young physician, Dr. Henry, to visit the sick throughout the surrounding country. Mr. Mullanphy died in St. Louis in 1833. His only surviving son, Bryan, was also remarkable for his great charities. In November the 14th, 1845, Judge Bryan Mullanphy was chairman of the Committee of Catholic gentlemen who founded the first conference of the St. Vincent de Paul society in the New World. He also established an immense fund for the relief of emigrants on their way to settle in the West.

The next Irishman who figured prominently in the early history of St. Louis was Mr. Jeremiah Connor. He came to St. Louis in 1805. He was the third sheriff of that city, appointed by Governor Wilkinson in 1806, serving as such for four years and acting also as collector and treasurer. He laid out Washington Avenue, one of the finest streets of the city, through the center of his private property, which he generously relinquished to the city without consideration. When Bishops Flaget and Dubourg came to St. Louis in 1818, the latter to establish his Episcopal residence there, Jeremiah Connor donated a thousand dollars towards his reception. Later he gave the bishop the site afterwards occupied by the Jesuit Church and College, known as the St. Louis University.

HON. ZENAS W. BLISS.

Lieutenant-Governor of Rhode Island.

A New Member of the Society.
]

Another son of the Emerald Isle, a man of ability and prominence, was Joseph Charless, Sr., who was born in Westmeath in 1772. Being implicated in the Irish rebellion in 1795, he fled to France and thence to America in 1796. After a few years’ stay in Philadelphia he removed to Louisville, Ky. He came to St. Louis in 1808, where he established the first newspaper west of the Mississippi River—the _Missouri Gazette_, the name being afterwards changed to _Missouri Republican_ when under the management of his son Edward in 1822. It continues to this day under the name of the _St. Louis Republic_.

Alexander McNair, born in Pennsylvania of Irish parents, was the fourth sheriff in St. Louis, succeeding Jeremiah Connor in that office. During the war of 1812 he raised a company of Mounted Rangers of which he was elected the captain. In 1816, when Congress established a land office for the St. Louis district, he was appointed by President Madison the first register of the same, and held office four years until he was elected, in 1820, the first governor of the state.

Quite a large number of Irish settlers came to St. Louis, rowing their own boat down from Pittsburg, and reaching St. Louis early in 1809. The leaders were John McKnight and Thomas Brady, who had formed a co-partnership in the east. They opened a store at once, and being enterprising, intelligent men, the house of McKnight & Brady was not long in acquiring prominence, and soon became extensively known for its enterprise and public spirit. In 1816 they erected a double brick house of two stories, which was opened as the Washington Hall—the seventh brick house in St. Louis, and the first built for a hotel, in which, on the twenty-second of February, 1817, the first observance of Washington’s birthday, west of the Mississippi, took place by a public dinner presided over by Gov. William Clark, brother of Gen. George Rodger Clark, styled the Hannibal of the Revolution, who were of Irish descent. Mr. Brady died October, 1821. The Rt. Rev. Bishop Dubourg officiated at the funeral obsequies. Mr. Brady’s father-in-law was John Rice Jones, then chief justice of the Supreme Court of the state.

We may form an idea of the strength of the Irish contingent in early history when we read of the following annals: 1818, Feb. 9—Erin Benevolent Society. A meeting of Irishmen to form a benevolent society was held at the house of Jeremiah Connor, Thomas Brady, Chairman, and Thomas Hanly, secretary. A committee of five: Jeremiah Connor, James McGunnegle, John Mullanphy, Alexander Blackwill and Arthur McGinnis, were appointed to frame resolutions. Adjourned to meet Tuesday, 24th inst., at 10 o’clock a. m., at the house of Thomas Brady.

1819, October 10—At meeting of Irish citizens held at the house of Jeremiah Connor at which he presided, and James Nagle, Esq., acted as secretary, adopted a constitution for the Erin Benevolent Society and adjourned to Thursday 21.

October 21—Met pursuant to adjournment and proceeded to the election: Jeremiah Connor, president; Thomas Hanly, vice-president; Hugh Ranken, treasurer; Laurence Ryan, secretary; Thomas English, James Timon, Robert N. Catherwood, Joseph Charles and Hugh O’Neil, standing committee; and John Timon, Robert Ranken and Francis Rochford, visiting committee.

1820, March 17—The first observance of the day in St. Louis by a procession of the society and a dinner at which a number of toasts and sentiments were drunk.

Another historic character of Irish birth was Col. Luke E. Lawless, who came to St. Louis in 1816. He was born in Dublin in 1781. He was called to the bar in 1805. In 1810 he passed over to France and entered the French military service under his uncle, General William Lawless. He was appointed military secretary to General Clark—Duc of Feltre,—and promoted to a colonelcy. On the return of Napoleon from Elba he read the address of congratulation from his regiment to the Emperor. After the final defeat of Napoleon, in 1815, he came to the United States, and adopted his former profession of law. Governor Dunklin appointed him Judge of the circuit of St. Louis. He died in 1846.

Another honored name of the early days is that of Charles Chambers, who was born in Dublin, in 1784. His father, John Chambers, was one of the oldest stationers and publishers of that city. He was a member of the Society of United Irishmen, and was arrested in that memorable year, 1798. He accompanied to New York, Thomas Addis Emmet, Dr. McNevin and Dr. Cummings. Charles Chambers came to New York in 1803. In 1817 he married Jane, the third daughter of John Mullanphy. We find him in St. Louis in the spring of 1819.

The Ranken brothers, Hugh, Robert and David, were born in Londonderry, Ireland. They emigrated to America, remaining in Philadelphia for some time. We find two of the brothers engaged in business as early as 1819, the third brother, David, arriving as late as 1850. They had been very successful in business.

In 1818 we find Capt. James McGunegle, a member and one of the founders of the Erin Benevolent Society, appointed Deputy Quartermaster-General for St. Louis. He purchased the Territorial Bank of St. Louis, which he held until his death, in 1822. He was buried with military honors by the St. Louis Guards.

About this time there came to America from gallant Tipperary a lad of twenty, named Edward Walsh, Sr. He came to Missouri, where he soon made his mark as a man of surpassing ability and indomitable courage. He turned his attention to many of the great utilities of this progressive age—from the mining industry to the construction of great lines of railroads, and from street car projects to the banking business. It may be truly said of him that he was a vital force in the life and development of St. Louis and entitled to be numbered among the city’s founders and promoters. He left a family of four sons and two daughters, who added to the lustre of his name.

James Tomon came to St. Louis in 1819. He was a man of superior character. His eldest son, John, became the much beloved bishop of Buffalo, N. Y.

Dr. James O’Fallen, born in Athlone, Ireland, served as a surgeon in the Continental Army under Washington. His wife was Frances Clark, the youngest sister of General George Rodger and William. Dr. O’Fallen died in Louisville in 1793, leaving two sons, John and Benjamin. In 1811, John O’Fallen, then twenty years of age, fought under Col. Davies at the battle of Tippecanoe, where he was severely wounded. While connected with the army he won much distinction. He settled in St. Louis, of which he became one of her most prominent and public-spirited citizens. He died in 1865.

The Morrison brothers were among the most noted of the early Americans of our territorial days, remarks Billon. They were of Irish origin and settled in and around St. Louis, and even at the present day their descendants are men of influence in Missouri and Illinois.

We find a Patrick Walsh, from the Town of Sligo, in St. Louis in 1820. Having been a merchant, he was commissioned by the governor a justice of the peace for the Township of St. Louis.

Patrick Dillon, from Londonderry, came to the United States in 1809. We find him engaged in the mercantile business in St. Louis as early as 1817. He laid out several additions to St. Louis, and one of the streets is named in his honor.

Patrick K. Dowling, a Waterford man, came to St. Louis in 1817. One of his sons, Richard, who died not many years ago, was a very interesting personage. He possessed a rich fund of historical reminiscences.

Thomas Hanley, who was the first secretary of the Irish Benevolent Society, came to St. Louis in 1816. He was a merchant.

John Finney and his family came to St. Louis about the year 1818. He and his sons acquired prominence and position in social and mercantile life.

Arthur McGinnes, born in County Antrim, Ireland, came to St. Louis in the year 1818. He was a young lawyer of considerable ability and force of character. He pushed his way to the front, attaining much social prominence. He removed to Washington, D. C., about the year 1840, where he continued to reside until his death, in 1848.

William Higgins came with his wife and family from Ireland to St. Louis in 1820. His youngest daughter, Winifred, married a Mr. Patterson. She became noted in later years for her princely gifts to charity. She deserves to have her name perpetuated in marble and bronze.

James Nagle and Hugh Johnson came to St. Louis in 1820. “They were two young Irishmen of good education,” remarks our annalist. They carried on a successful mercantile business for many years. After the death of Mr. Johnson, in 1825, Mr. Nagle entered into the practice of law.

And thus did the exiled children of Erin come to this Key City of the Mississippi Valley to grace every sphere of life. There is one sphere to which I have not alluded—that of the sanctuary. And here let me mention the illustrious name of Most Rev. Peter Richard Kenrick, who was born in Dublin in 1806, ordained for that diocese in 1832, and soon changed the field of his labors for America at the earnest solicitation of his illustrious brother, Francis Patrick, Archbishop of Philadelphia. Bishop Rosati of St. Louis, desiring a coadjutor, his choice fell on this brilliant young Irish priest. He was consecrated coadjutor-bishop of St. Louis in 1841.

DANIEL MORGAN—ABLE TRIBUTE TO THE MOST UNIQUE FIGURE IN THE ANNALS OF
AMERICAN COMMONWEALTHS.

_An address delivered before the Society, copy for which was received
too late for publication in Vol. VIII of the Journal._

BY HON. JOSEPH T. LAWLESS, NORFOLK, VA.

_Mr. President and Fellow Members_:

By the grace of your invitation, I have the honor of addressing this
Society a second time. With the invitation was coupled the admonition
that I should devote myself to the subject which our distinguished
President has just announced. Deeply distrusting my ability to
discharge the commission to your entertainment and within the
limitation of time the occasion prescribes, but taking courage from
your desire to have recorded the facts of unwritten history as they
affect the objects of this organization, and relying upon your
patience to hear, though your interest should wane, I have come
tonight in obedience to your summons to speak of the most unique
figure in the annals of American Commonwealths. The place of his birth
unknown even to himself—his parentage wrapped in an oblivion which he
steadfastly refused to penetrate—a farm laborer in the Valley of
Virginia in 1755—a teamster in the British army in the French and
Indian war—he advanced without the aid of adventitious circumstances
to the command of an army of his compatriots and fought and won at the
Cowpens the battle which made possible the triumph at Yorktown!

All this, indeed, did Daniel Morgan. But he did more. He conquered his
own weaknesses, and scorned the allurements of unworthy preferments.
He overcame the excesses of youthful appetite; he flouted the
proffered temptations of a commission in the royal army of Great
Britain while a ragged prisoner of war amidst the snows of Quebec; and
in the hour of his subsequent glory on the field at Saratoga, he
disdained the persuasions of Gates to join the “Conway Cabal” and
remained loyal to Washington and to the liberties of his country.

With his lineage unknown, his birthplace unestablished, his advent
unheralded, and his history but sparsely written, no man can speak
with certainty of the race from which he sprung. But if there be aught
distinctive in racial characteristics; or aught indicative in that
accent of human speech which makes the Irish brogue sound as music on
the ear, Daniel Morgan was of that race which has ennobled Celtic
history, and the lullaby which first soothed him into sleeping was the
crooning of a mother’s voice that spake the Irish tongue. But, my
countrymen, whatever his lineage and wherever the place of his birth,
tonight, on the one hundred and twenty-fifth anniversary of his
greatest battle, when we have assembled in New York’s banquet hall to
honor his memory and to make better known a renown which should be as
firmly established as the liberties of his country, we may well pause
to trace the course of those wonderful activities which have no
parallel in Revolutionary lore.

The earliest, and perhaps his sole biographer, James Graham, declares
he was of Welsh extraction, and that he went to Virginia from the
banks of the Delaware. This declaration is based on a manuscript
prepared for the biographer by Dr. William Hall, of Winchester, who
knew General Morgan in his lifetime and attended his bedside during
his last illness. The uniform refusal of Morgan to discuss his
parentage and the resultant uncertainty which surrounds his racial
extraction, entitle such a statement on the part of a person who was
his friend in life to consideration and respect. But I submit a
statement of another person who knew him during life to substantiate
the belief which exists in Virginia that he was of Irish blood.

The grandmother of Colonel Charles Triplett O’Ferrall, a late Governor
of that Commonwealth, lived near and knew Daniel Morgan. During a
close association at Richmond, Governor O’Ferrall frequently told me
anecdotes of him which he learned from the lips of his grandmother,
who in her early life saw much of Morgan and was present at his
funeral. In reciting some of these anecdotes the Governor would
imitate the Irish brogue which appeared to distinguish the accent of
Morgan. Born within a few miles of Morgan’s home, O’Ferrall lived in
the Valley all his life and for twelve years represented that District
in the House of Representatives of the United States. Three times in
that body he introduced a bill having for its object the erection of a
monument to mark the grave of Morgan. No citizen gave more thought to
the personality of the man and his career as a soldier than did
Governor O’Ferrall. In his published memoirs he closes the last
chapter with a tribute to him and expresses the hope that some
successor in Congress from the Valley District will be able to
persuade Congress to mark his lowly grave. “I had set my heart on its
passage,” he says, on page 358; “every emotion of my soul was aroused
in its behalf. I had carefully studied the hero’s life and character
and it read like a romance to me.” Concerning Morgan’s brogue, he
could not have been misinformed by his grandmother. _Res ipsa
loquitur._ Himself of Irish extraction and as game a cavalryman as
ever drew a blade, who can doubt that it was because of the blood that
ran in Morgan’s veins, scarcely less than his services to his country,
that impelled O’Ferrall to so interest himself in his career?

When about the age of seventeen, in the year 1753, a tall, raw-boned
boy, calling himself Daniel Morgan, “turned up” near the village of
Winchester in Virginia. There was nothing about him to excite the good
opinion of those frontiersmen, except his willingness to work. He had
scant acquaintance with the three R’s. His writing was barely legible;
his reading, painful to everybody who heard—especially to himself; his
knowledge of the simplest principles of arithmetic, was small; his
manners were rude; and his conversation so unpolished as to class him
with the humblest order of men. The only occupation he understood was
that of a land-grubber and rail-splitter, and it was at these hard
tasks that he sought employment. He found it. And such was his
strength and his industry that no man engaged Daniel Morgan to clear a
piece of new land or to split white-oak rails for a snake-fence and
ever regretted his contract! Within a year he became a wagoner for
Nathaniel Burwell, Esquire. In a little more than two years his
industry and thrift enabled him to purchase a wagon and team of his
own; and then—a forerunner of the Wells Fargo—he established an
express between the Valley and points beyond the Blue Ridge, east of
the Range.

As his fortunes improved, there came improvement in his mind. His
manners, too, changed. The raw-boned boy of seventeen had developed
into the man of twenty-one, and with the development came a reputation
for great physical strength and a courage that was dauntless—great
virtues, always, on the frontier. With these qualities he coupled a
natural wit, a quick intelligence, a manliness, and a frankness of
manner which won the admiration of his sturdy neighbors.

When Braddock landed his army on the upper banks of the Potomac to
make good the claim of his sovereign to the fertile region west of the
Alleghanies, Morgan became a teamster with the ill-fated soldiers and
accompanied the baggage train of the Second Division. In 1756 he was
sent to Fort Chiswell with a wagon-load of supplies. It was while at
this post that he received the terrible beating on his bare back which
would have cost a less hardy man his life. A British lieutenant
insulted him by striking him with the flat of his sword and was
immediately stretched senseless on the ground by a blow from the
teamster’s fist. A drum-head courtmartial sentenced him to receive
five hundred lashes. He was forthwith stripped and tied to a white-oak
tree. At the end of the castigation his flesh hung in tags. But his
spirit was unbroken and King George was never forgiven for the cruelty
his soldiers then inflicted.

When he arrived at about the age of twenty-three, he was a strikingly
handsome man. In height, he was upward of six feet; his frame was
massive and symmetrical; and, without carrying an ounce of superfluous
flesh, his weight was two hundred pounds. But his conduct was not
exemplary. He became at this time a trencherman of distinction. Yet so
powerful was his constitution he was able to bear excess of liquor
without becoming entirely under its influence. As a card player, he
was as skillful as the most skillful, and he used his talent to add to
his estate. So great was his prowess at fisticuffs and so constant his
engagements thereat, that the little town of Berryville in the County
of Clarke, where these combats were always held, is called
“Battletown” to this day by the older residents of the Valley.

This, indeed, was the most unpromising time of Daniel Morgan’s life.
To most of the vices which end in ruin, he was addicted. But, in the
Providence of God, he was not overwhelmed. Grave faults, indeed, he
had in plenty; but they appear to have proceeded, not from a depraved
heart but from the rollicking, devil-may-care nature of a young
frontiersman. Without parents to advise or friends to admonish, his
bold wayward spirit was conscious of no restraint when impulse
impelled it to action. What he needed to round the man was adventurous
enterprise—dangerous commissions! The dash within him—the spirit of
command—needed war. And, war came! Like Hotspur, he must have blows
and “pass them current, too.”

First it was “Lord Dunmore’s War” for the protection of the frontier
against the Indians under Chief Logan and Cornstalk. General Andrew
Lewis, an Irishman born and thirteen years of age before he left
Ireland for Virginia, was ordered to raise four regiments in the
Southwestern counties; and while Lewis was organizing his forces,
Morgan, now holding a commission by grace of William Nelson, Esquire,
President of His Majesty’s Council and Commander-in-chief of the
Colony and Dominion of Virginia, took the field under Major Angus
McDonald. He became at once an active factor. His splendid judgment,
his knowledge of woodcraft, his understanding of the Indian character
and their methods of warfare, his boldness and his courage, soon
distinguished him among his comrades in arms as a man fit for
leadership.

“Lord Dunmore’s War” ended with the defeat of Cornstalk at Point
Pleasant and Morgan’s command turned homeward. When they reached the
mouth of the Hockhocking, those stupendous events which had been
happening in England and the Colonies during their absence became
known to these Virginians, fresh from the wilderness. They learned
that the Parliament of Great Britain had ordered the port of Boston to
be closed. They were informed that the General Assembly of the mother
colony had protested against such despotic legislation. They were told
with solemn voices that representatives of the people were then
assembled at Philadelphia to consider ways and means to resist the
encroachments of the crown. And then and there, amidst the solitude of
that wilderness, far from the outposts of civilization, Daniel Morgan
and his band of liberty-loving Virginians resolved upon their course.
“Upon hearing these things,” he wrote in an all-too-inadequate sketch
of his military services, “we, as an army victorious, formed ourselves
into a society, pledging our words of honor to each other to assist
our brethren of Boston in case hostilities should commence.” I need
not ask you New Englanders tonight how well they kept that pledge!

On the 22d day of June, 1775, by a unanimous vote of the Committee of
Safety of Frederick County, he was appointed to command one of the two
companies of Riflemen which the Continental Congress had ordered to be
raised in Virginia. “In less than ten days after the receipt of his
commission,” says Graham, “he raised a company of ninety-six young,
hardy woodsmen, full of spirit and enthusiasm and practised marksmen
with the rifle. John Humphreys, who was killed in the assault on
Quebec, was his first lieutenant. William Heth, afterwards a Colonel,
who greatly distinguished himself in the subsequent events of the war,
was his second lieutenant. His ensign was Charles Porterfield,
afterwards a Colonel, and an officer who by his many brilliant and
daring achievements had earned a proud name among the defenders of his
country, and was rapidly rising to distinction when he fell in the
bloody field of Camden. A finer body of men than those who composed
his company are seldom seen. One that rendered better service, or that
shed a brighter lustre on the arms of their country, never had
existence.”

In twenty-one days, Morgan, at the head of this company, each Rifleman
wearing a cap with the legend “Liberty or Death,” marched a distance
of six hundred miles to Boston, and when the roll was called every
member of the command was present and ready for duty.

He was now come for the first time on that broader field of action in
which he won a renown which will never die. It is not my purpose to
dwell on the hardships of that extraordinary march into Canada led by
Arnold. The sufferings endured by the Americans in the midst of the
snow’s and ice of the Canadian winter are beyond the power of human
speech to depict. Half-clad, bare of foot or shod only with moccasins,
half-starving, with their comrades in arms dropping in their weary
tracks to die—such sufferings could only be endured by men whose
natural hardihood and love of country could not be overwhelmed by the
agonies of physical torture. At intervals, some helpless hero would be
overcome by the hardships of the march and tenderly laid aside to die,
with a single devoted comrade to hunt for a squirrel or jay or to
gather wild herbs for his food, the while he watched his expiring
breath and caught the last whispered message of affection for the
loved ones at home. Morgan himself was dressed in a costume similar to
that of an Indian. He wore leggings and a cloth about the middle. His
thighs were bare and their laceration because of it was painfully
obvious. But he appeared to be impervious to pain. Judge Henry, who
was a member of the expedition, in his “Campaign” describes Morgan at
this time as being “a large, strong-bodied personage”—“with a
stentorian voice”—“whose appearance gave the idea history has left us
of Belisarius.” Those high qualifications for command, which became
more and more distinguished as the war progressed, manifested
themselves on this occasion. He led the vanguard. And in eight weeks’
time he penetrated an unexplored wilderness for six hundred miles and
stood ready with his Riflemen to assault the fortified walls of
gun-fringed and snow-crowned Quebec.

If the fame of Daniel Morgan as one of the most intrepid of soldiers
depended alone on his conduct at the storming of Quebec, it would live
as long as the heroic deeds of the Revolution are remembered of men.
At the height of a tempest in which the blinding snow was driven with
terrible effect, in the early hours of the first day of the New Year,
1775, the assault began. Armed with scaling-ladders and spontoons, as
well as rifles, Morgan’s men, with their captain at their head, were
first over the walls. With a sublime courage and a voice which rang
above the roar of the tempest he commanded his men, and they, with a
devotion as faithful as it was unquestioning, obeyed. Into the heart
of the town they fought their way. But, alas, the brave fellows were
not supported. The disastrous results of the assault—the wounding of
Arnold at its commencement, the death of Montgomery, the brave, while
leading those sixty heroes from New York, and the capture of Morgan,
of the lion’s heart—are tales of devotion which every American
schoolboy knows and which were so extraordinary as to become the
subject of public eulogy in the Commons of Great Britain. With “the
flower of the rebel army,” Morgan was “cooped up” in the town. His
half-starved and poorly clad men were all but frozen in the terrible
northeast storm. Their eyes could not endure the hail; their faces
were “hoar with frost” and weird with pendant icicles; their rifles
were practically useless. Finding himself alone with a few of his men
and a sprinkling of brave Pennsylvanians, and confronted in a narrow
street by his massed enemies, he resolved to cut his way through. The
attempt was madness itself. At last, he stood at bay with his back to
a wall. With tears streaming down his face, he refused to surrender
and challenged his enemies to come and take his sword. A hundred
muskets were levelled at his breast, when several of his men begged
him to resist no further. Denouncing his enemies as cowards, he
acquiesced in the importunities of his followers, but refused to
surrender his sword to any person save a noncombatant priest who
chanced to be near.

The heroism of the Americans in this assault attracted the admiration
of the world. Frederick, of Prussia, praised Montgomery as a military
chieftain. In the British Parliament, Barrè, Montgomery’s veteran
friend and comrade in the war with France which annexed Canada to the
crown, “wept profusely,” in extolling his virtues and the bravery of
his men. Edmund Burke pronounced him a hero and his men brave
patriots. Lord North, in reply for government, cursed the virtues of
the Americans and denounced them as rebels. “The term rebel,” retorted
Fox, “is no certain mark of disgrace. The great assertors of liberty,
the saviors of their country, the benefactors of mankind in all ages
have been called rebels. We owe the constitution which enables us to
sit in this house to a rebellion.” And North was silent!

It was during his confinement in “The Seminary,” following his
capture, that Morgan was tempted by the British to desert the cause of
his country. Had he been made of common clay he might have yielded. He
was half-naked; the few garments he wore were in tatters; he was a
thousand miles from home; he was a prisoner of war with no prospect of
release. But beneath the ragged hunting shirt of this nobleman from
the Virginia forests beat a heart as full of loyalty as of love for
his country. The polished and generous Governor-General, Sir Guy
Carleton, knew of his wonderful courage in the assault. Through the
mediation of a subordinate, he tendered Morgan in delicate and
diplomatic language “the commission, rank and emoluments of a colonel”
in the British Army. “I hope, sir,” was his disdainful reply, “I hope,
sir, you will never again insult me in my present distressed and
unfortunate situation by making me offers which plainly imply that you
think me a scoundrel.”

On the 10th day of August, 1776, the prisoners of war in Quebec were
released on parole, and a month later landed from the transports at
Elizabethtown Point. General Washington gave Morgan a flattering
reception. His high qualifications as an officer had become known
throughout the army, and the Commander-in-chief desired to avail of
his talents at once. From the Heights of Harlem, on the 20th day of
September, 1776, General Washington addressed a communication to the
President of Congress urging the appointment of Morgan to succeed
Colonel Hugh Stephenson of the Rifle Regiment lately ordered to be
raised. He stated “his conduct as an officer, in the expedition with
General Arnold last fall, his intrepid behavior in the assault on
Quebec, when the brave Montgomery fell, the inflexible attachment he
professed to our cause during his imprisonment, and which he
perseveres in,” all entitled him “to the favor of Congress.” After his
release from his parole, Congress acted on the recommendation and
Captain Morgan became “a Colonel of the Eleventh Regiment of Virginia
in the army of the United States.” Before the year 1776 closed he was
once more in the field of active operations.

He was ordered northward with a regiment of his own recruiting to
check the ravages of the Indians attached to Burgoyne’s army. During
that ever memorable campaign under Gates, Morgan and his men were in
the thick of every engagement until the capitulation of the British at
Saratoga. “Sir, you command the finest regiment in the world,” was
Burgoyne’s outburst to him when they were introduced after the
surrender. And in his “Review of the Evidence taken before the House
of Commons,” in which Burgoyne’s conduct was a subject of
investigation, in speaking of Morgan’s regiment having driven the
British light infantry from the field and attacked them in their
entrenchments, Burgoyne remarks: “If there can be any person who,
after considering that circumstance and the positive proof of the
subsequent obstinacy of the attack on the post of Lord Balcarras, and
various other actions of the day, continue to doubt that the Americans
possess the _quality_ and _faculty_ of fighting (call it by whatever
term they please) they are of a prejudice that it would be very absurd
longer to contend with.”

That is honorable testimony from an able adversary of the part Morgan
bore in those momentous days. And yet the name of Morgan was omitted
from the official account of the surrender which he did so much to
compel. The reason was not far to seek and is now well-known.
Again—this time on a triumphant field—did the innate nobleness, the
loyalty and love of country of Daniel Morgan overcome the
blandishments of the tempter and scorn his proffered preferments.
General Gates sought to persuade the honest woodsman to join him and
his co-conspirators in the “Conway Cabal,” which had for its object
the promotion of Gates over Washington. He refused. Had he yielded,
his name would have blazoned the dispatches announcing the
capitulation. When Gates had concluded his request, the frank and
honest soul of Morgan was aflame with indignation. “I have one favor
to ask of you, sir, which is never to mention that detestable subject
to me again; for under no other man than Washington as
commander-in-chief would I ever serve.”

Vain was the attempt to ignore the services of Morgan and his regiment
in the campaign against Burgoyne! The omission of his name by Gates in
the dispatches should be supplied by the mighty pen of his grateful
countrymen, and writ large, in letters of gold, upon the imperishable
annals of the Republic. His enemies paid homage to his gallantry. An
incident occurred at this time, as related by Lee in his Memoirs,
which illustrates the resentment of Gates towards Morgan and
demonstrates how unworthy and undeserved was his malice. Shortly after
the rejection by Morgan of General Gates’ proposition to join the
“Conway Cabal,” Gates gave a dinner to the principal officers of
Burgoyne’s army. The principal officers of the American army were also
present. But Morgan was not invited. Having occasion to seek an
interview with General Gates before the entertainment was concluded,
the British officers, observing the noble mien and soldier-like
carriage of Morgan and that he wore the uniform of a field officer,
made inquiries concerning his identity immediately upon his
withdrawal. When informed that he was Colonel Morgan, of the Rifle
Regiment, they arose to a man, and overtaking him in the road
severally introduced themselves and declared their admiration for his
bravery and skill as a commander.

After the surrender, Colonel Morgan, by express command of General
Washington, marched southward to join him. The commanderin-chief was
then operating on the Hudson and in New Jersey and Pennsylvania and
was anxious to avail himself of the remarkable talents of Morgan,
whose Rangers were now become the _elite_ rifle-corps of the army. To
follow him in all of his engagements while under the immediate command
of Washington would prolong this address beyond the limitations which
patience and the conventions prescribe. No undertaking having for its
object the success of the American cause was too hazardous, no service
too difficult for him to perform. It was during this period that
developed those intimate personal relations between Colonel Morgan and
General Lafayette which continued through life and which is
affectionately manifested in the correspondence of the polished
Marquis with his unaccomplished friend. In a letter from Fishkill,
November 28, 1778, Lafayette, in thanking Morgan for the friendship
and good opinion he expressed for him on the eve of his departure for
France, said: “Both are extremely dear to my heart; and I do assure
you, my dear sir, that the true regard and esteem and the sincere
affection you have inspired to me, will last forever.

* * * * *

“Farewell, my dear sir, don’t forget your friend on the other side of
the great water, and believe me ever,

“Your affectionate,
“LAFAYETTE.”

But while he was held in the highest esteem by his superior officers and had rendered extraordinary services to his country, Congress ignored him in dispensing its favors and continued to promote over his head men of smaller talents who had friends at court. Finally he determined to resign. Not even the influence of Washington, once his mind had been formed, was powerful enough to dissuade him from his purpose. Early in July, 1779, he presented a laudatory letter from Washington to Congress and offered his resignation. It was accepted, and the war-worn hero mounted his horse and rode homeward to the verdant valley of the Shenandoah. Greatly was his departure regretted in the army. In a letter to him dated “Haverstraw, Nov. 9, 1779,” General John Neville, then an officer in Woodford’s brigade, said: “Then, say they, for old Morgan a brigadier, and we would kick the world before us. I am not fond of flattery; but I assure you, on my word, that no man’s ever leaving the army was more regretted than yours, nor no man was ever wished for more to return.”

For fifteen months he remained with his family, a close student of passing events in the progress of the war. The attention of the British was now directed towards the South and Morgan was filled with apprehension by the preparations being made to bring it under British subjection. Leading three thousand fresh troops from New York, Cornwallis had arrived near Charleston to take command in that section. So rapid and effective were his operations that on the 12th day of May, 1780, when he was ready to assault the town by land and water, General Lincoln signed a capitulation of the city and surrendered his army. By the end of June, the British commander was able to report that he had put an end to all resistance in South Carolina and Georgia; and that in accordance with his plan of operations, he would after the September harvest reduce the province of North Carolina, continue his march to the Chesapeake, and from that base conquer the province of Virginia.

Disregarding the wishes of Washington, Congress on the 13th day of June unanimously named General Gates, instead of General Greene, to succeed Lincoln in command of the Southern Department. It proved to be one of the saddest blunders of the war.

In receiving this independent command, Gates was instructed to report directly to Congress and not to the commander-in-chief. He was authorized to appoint his own staff-officers; to address himself directly to Virginia and to the States north of it for supplies; and to engage his army in such manner for the defense of the South as his judgment alone should approve. Ambitious as Lucifer, and vain by nature, this mark of great distinction—bestowed in spite of the known opinion of Washington concerning its unwisdom—gave Gates unlimited confidence in his abilities. Miscalculating the fighting strength of his “grand army,” two thirds of which consisted of raw militia from the various provinces that had never been paraded together, he marched against the best disciplined troops in the world, led by Cornwallis, at Camden, and suffered a defeat which demoralized the entire South, deprived him of his command and terminated his military career. “Two thirds of the army ran like a torrent,” he wrote, forgetting to add that he ran with them and did not quit running until he arrived, ahead of the fleetest of the fugitives, at Hillsborough, North Carolina, two hundred miles away—making the distance in the splendid time of three and one half days!

MAJOR JOHN W. BOURLET.

Of Concord, N. H.

Many years in charge of the printing and publishing of the volumes of
the Society.

Deceased, January 19, 1910.
]

At this juncture, Cornwallis was the most conspicuous figure in the British Army in America. Already “the pride and delight” of Lord George Germain, his successes vindicated the opinion which that minister entertained of his military talents, and he was now designed by the Cabinet to supersede Clinton as commander-in-chief—being considered “the one man on whom rested the hopes of the ministry for the successful termination of the war.” Proud of this favoritism on the part of the Cabinet and conscious of the hopes and expectations of the King, Cornwallis began preparations for his northward march. Success had elated him. He believed he would swing from victory unto victory until he had brought all of the people south of the Delaware again under the dominion of the crown.

He began the work of subjugation by inaugurating a reign of terror not excelled in point of barbarity in the annals of civilized warfare. After his victory at Camden, he erected a gibbet, and began the summary and indiscriminate execution of those among his prisoners who had formerly received their parole. He gave stringent orders to his subordinates to imprison all who refused to enter the British Army and thus became the instrument of their own subjection. The confiscation of property and the destruction of life assumed hideous forms. “South Carolina,” says Bancroft, “was writhing under the insolence of an army in which every soldier was licensed to pillage, and every officer outlawed peaceful citizens at will.” The gold and silver plate and other valuables divided amongst the victors at the fall of Charleston amounted in value to a million and a half dollars, the dividend of a major-general alone being four thousand guineas. Cold-blooded assassinations by men holding the King’s commission, often in the presence of the wives and children of the helpless victims, were frequent. No engagements by capitulation were respected. Woodsmen in their rude cabins were suddenly surrounded and put to death, not because they were in arms against the King, but because they were not in arms for him. The tomahawking in June, 1777, of poor Jane McRae by one of the two Indians in the British service who were escorting her under British protection from Fort Edward, New York, to her expectant betrothed in the British lines, and who quarreled over the reward promised for her safe arrival, found a fitting complement three years later in South Carolina when Colonel Tarleton, of His Majesty’s service, personally beat the wife of a general officer of the Continental army because of his activity in the cause of his country. Equalling this villainy, Lord Rawdon, one of Cornwallis’ commanders on the Santee, who had found great difficulty in forcing his Irish Regiment to fight against the American patriots, issued an order dated July 1, 1780, in which he said: “I will give the inhabitants ten guineas for any deserter belonging to the volunteers of Ireland and five guineas only if they bring him in alive.”

To the disgrace of the ministry of Lord North, these practices were not only known to but were approved by the Cabinet. Indeed, they met the “hearty and repeated applause” of those charged with the conduct of the war, Germain declaring in orders to Clinton that “no good faith or justice is to be expected from them and we ought in all our transactions with them to act upon that supposition.”

Such was the temper of the British and such was the condition of the people of South Carolina when Cornwallis moved forward.

The army was in three divisions—the main body under Cornwallis, at Camden; Tarleton’s Legion, at Winnsborough; and the Brigade of Provincial troops under Major Ferguson, at Post Ninety-Six. It was at this time that Morgan again took the field. The defeat of Gates at Camden had stirred his patriotism to its very depths. In the distress of his country he buried all resentment of the ill-treatment he had received from both Gates and the Congress—the hardy warrior again drew his sword. And Gates with his pride humbled and his heart filled with humility by adversity, desiring to retrieve his fallen fortunes, resolved upon giving Morgan an independent command. The British began their march in the second week of September—a delightful season in the southern clime, perhaps the loveliest of the year. The earlier cereals had yielded to the sickle, and the sheaves, standing like mute sentinels in the field, had been bound by the reapers. The maize was nearly ripe. Supplies for the troops were plentiful. Indeed, the proud Cornwallis had no thought of care for his army that did not dissolve in the kindling prospect of glory and renown.

In the opinion of Bancroft, the ablest British partizan officer at that time in America was Major Patrick Ferguson, in command of the left division of the army. He was ordered to enlist as he passed northward, the young loyalists who had fled to the mountains for security and those fugitives whose love of plunder would find indulgence and protection under the British standard. House-burners and assassins, plunderers and wrongers of women and children, were massed in his command. But neither Ferguson nor his desperate troops were fated much longer to pillage, burn and kill. At King’s Mountain, on the 7th day of October, the backwoodsmen from the Virginia mountains, the commands of Isaac Shelby and John Sevier, the men from North Carolina under McDowell and Cleaveland—all by common consent under the command of the redoubtable Virginian, William Campbell, a brother-in-law of Patrick Henry—every man armed with his own rifle and riding his own horse, determined to avenge the wrongs which they and their kinsmen had suffered at the hands of the British troops. A bloody battle was fought and Ferguson was pierced through the heart. His entire command was captured.

Six days after this event, on the recommendation of Thomas Jefferson, Governor of Virginia, and John Rutledge, the great chief magistrate of South Carolina, Congress appointed Daniel Morgan a Brigadier-General in the army of the United States. The news of the death of Ferguson and the surrender of his army at King’s Mountain reached Cornwallis on the march from Charlotte to Salisbury. The destruction of one-third of his army, at a single blow, and the death of his ablest commander were reverses as stunning as they were unexpected. His fears were at once aroused for the safety of the posts in his rear, now being constantly menaced by Marion and Sumpter.