Comic History of the United States

The Carolinas were full of Tories, and opposition to English rule was practically abandoned in the South for the time, with the exception of that made in a desultory swamp-warfare by the partisan bands with such leaders as Marion, Sumter, and Pickens.

Two hundred thousand dollars of Continental money was the sum now out. Forty dollars of it would buy one dollar's worth of groceries; but the grocer had to know the customer pretty well, and even then it was more to accommodate than anything else that he sold at that price.

The British flooded the country with a counterfeit that was rather better-looking than the genuine: so that by the time a man had paid six hundred dollars for a pair of boots, and the crooked bills had been picked out and others substituted, it made him feel that starting a republic was a mighty unpopular job.

General Arnold had married a Tory lady, and lived in Philadelphia while recovering from his wounds received at Quebec and Saratoga. He was rather a high roller, and ran behind, so that it is estimated that his bills there per month required a peach-basket-full of currency with which to pay them, as the currency was then quoted. Besides, Gates had worried him, and made him think that patriotism was mostly politics. He was also overbearing, and the people of Philadelphia mobbed him once. He was reprimanded gently by Washington, but Arnold was haughty and yet humiliated. He got command of West Point, a very important place indeed, and then arranged with Clinton to swap it for six thousand three hundred and fifteen pounds and a colonelcy in the English army.

Major André was appointed to confer with Arnold, and got off the ship Vulture to make his way to the appointed place, but it was daylight by that time, and the Vulture, having been fired on, dropped down the river. André now saw no way for him but to get back to New York; but at Tarrytown he was met by three patriots, who caught his horse by the reins, and, though André tried to tip them, he did not succeed. They found papers on his person, among them a copy of Punch, which made them suspicious that he was not an American, and so he was tried and hanged as a spy. This was one of the saddest features of the American Revolution, and should teach us to be careful how we go about in an enemy's country, also to use great care in selecting and subscribing for papers.

In 1781, Greene, who succeeded Gates, took charge of the two thousand ragged and bony troops. January 17 he was attacked at Cowpens by Tarleton. The militia fell back, and the English made a grand charge, supposing victory to be within reach. But the wily and foxy troops turned at thirty yards and gave the undertaking business a boom that will never be forgotten.

Morgan was in command of the Colonial forces. He went on looking for more regulars to kill, but soon ran up against Cornwallis the surrenderer.

General Greene now joined Morgan, and took charge of the retreat. At the Yadkin River they crossed over ahead of Cornwallis, when it began for to rain. When Cornwallis came to the river he found it so swollen and restless that he decided not to cross. Later he crossed higher up, and made for the fords of the Dan at thirty miles a day, to head off the Americans. Greene beat him, however, by a length, and saved his troops.

The writer has seen the place on the Yadkin where Cornwallis decided not to cross. It was one of the pivotal points of the war, and is of about medium height.

A fight followed at Guilford Court-House, where the Americans were driven back, but the enemy got thinned out so noticeably that Cornwallis decided to retreat. He went back to Washington on a Bull Run schedule, without pausing even for feed or water. Cornwallis was greatly agitated, and the coat he wore at the time, and now shown in the Smithsonian Institution, shows distinctly the marks made where the Colonists played checkers on the tail.

The battle of Eutaw Springs, September 8, also greatly reduced the British forces at that point.

Arnold conducted a campaign into Virginia, and was very brutal about it, killing a great many people who were strangers to him, and who had never harmed him, not knowing him, as the historian says, from "Adam's off ox."

Cornwallis in this Virginia and Southern trip destroyed ten million dollars' worth of property, and then fortified himself at Yorktown.

Washington decided to besiege Yorktown, and, making a feint to fool Clinton, set out for that place, visiting Mount Vernon en route after an absence of six and a half years, though only stopping two days. Washington was a soldier in the true sense, and, when a lad, was given a little hatchet by his father. George cut down some cherry-trees with this, in order to get the cherries without climbing the trees. One day his father discovered that the trees had been cut down, and spoke of it to the lad.

GEORGE'S FATHER TAKING PAY FOR THE CHERRY-TREES.

"Yes," said George, "I did it with my little hatchet; but I would rather cut down a thousand cherry-trees and tell the truth about it than be punished for it."

"Well said, my brave boy!" exclaimed the happy father as he emptied George's toy bank into his pocket in payment for the trees. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

In speaking of the siege of Yorktown, the historian says, "The most hearty good will prevailed." What more could you expect of a siege than that?

Cornwallis capitulated October 19. It was the most artistic capitulation he had ever given. The troops were arranged in two lines facing each other, British and American with their allies the French under Rochambeau.

People came from all over the country who had heard of Cornwallis and his wonderful genius as a capitulator. They came for miles, and brought their lunches with them; but the general, who felt an unnecessary pique towards Washington, refused to take part in the exercises himself, claiming that by the advice of his physicians he would have to remain in his tent, as they feared that he had over-capitulated himself already. He therefore sent his sword by General O'Hara, and Washington turned it over to Lincoln, who had been obliged to surrender to the English at Charleston.

CORNWALLIS SENDING HIS SWORD BY GENERAL O'HARA.

The news reached Philadelphia in the night, and when the watchman cried, "Past two o'clock, and Cornwallis is taken!" the people arose and went and prayed and laughed like lunatics, for they regarded the war as virtually ended. The old door-keeper of Congress died of delight. Thanks were returned to Almighty God, and George Washington's nomination was a sure thing.

England decided that whoever counselled war any further was a public enemy, and Lord North, then prime minister, when he heard of the surrender of Cornwallis through a New York paper, exclaimed, "Oh, God! it is all over!"

Washington now showed his sagacity in quelling the fears of the soldiers regarding their back pay. He was invited to become king, but, having had no practice, and fearing that he might run against a coup d'état or faux pas, he declined, and spoke kindly against taking violent measures.

In 1783, September 3, a treaty of peace was signed in Paris, and Washington, delivering the most successful farewell address ever penned, retired to Mount Vernon, where he began at once to enrich his farm with the suggestions he had received during his absence, and to calmly take up the life that had been interrupted by the tedious and disagreeable war.

The country was free and independent, but, oh, how ignorant it was about the science of government! The author does not wish to be personal when he states that the country at that time did not know enough about affairs to carry water for a circus elephant.

It was heavily in debt, with no power to raise money. New England refused to pay her poll-tax, and a party named Shays directed his hired man to overturn the government; but a felon broke out on his thumb, and before he could put it down the crisis was averted and the country saved.

WASHINGTON BEGAN AT ONCE TO ENRICH HIS FARM.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE FIRST PRESIDENT

It now became the duty of the new republic to seek out the man to preside over it, and George Washington seems to have had no rivals. He rather reluctantly left his home at Mount Vernon, where he was engaged in trying the rotation of crops, and solemnly took the oath to support the Constitution of the United States, which had been adopted September 17, 1787. His trip in April, 1789, from Mount Vernon to the seat of government in New York was a simple but beautiful ovation.

Everybody tried to make it pleasant for him. He was asked at all the towns to build there, and 'most everybody wanted him "to come and make their house his home." When he got to the ferry he was not pushed off into the water by commuters, but lived to reach the Old Federal Hall, where he was sworn in.

In 1791 the seat of government was removed to Philadelphia, where it remained for ten years, after which the United States took advantage of the Homestead Act and located on a tract of land ten miles square, known as the District of Columbia. In 1846 that part of the District lying on the Virginia side of the Potomac was ceded back to the State.

President Washington did not have to escape from the capital to avoid office-seekers. He could get on a horse at his door and in five minutes be out of sight. He could remain in the forest back of his house until Martha blew the horn signifying that the man who wanted the post-office at Pigback had gone, and then he could return.

MARTHA BLEW THE HORN.

How times have changed with the growth of the republic! Now Pigback has grown so that the name has been changed to Hogback, and the President avails himself of every funeral that he can possibly feel an interest in, to leave the swarm of jobless applicants who come to pester him to death for appointments.

The historian begs leave to say here that the usefulness of the President for the good of his country and the consideration of greater questions will some day be reduced to very little unless he may be able to avoid this effort to please voters who overestimate their greatness.

It is said that Washington had no library, which accounted for his originality. He was a vestryman in the Episcopal Church; and to see his tall and graceful form as he moved about from pew to pew collecting pence for Home Missions, was a lovely sight.

As a boy he was well behaved and a careful student.

At one time he was given a hatchet by his father, which–

But what has the historian to do with this morbid wandering in search of truth?

Things were very much unsettled. England had not sent a minister to this country, and had arranged no commercial treaty with us.

Washington's Cabinet consisted of three portfolios and a rack in which he kept his flute-music.

The three ministers were the Secretary of State, the Secretary of War, and the Secretary of the Treasury. There was no Attorney-General, or Postmaster-General, or Secretary of the Interior, or of the Navy, or Seed Catalogue Secretary.

Hamilton, the Secretary of the Treasury, advised that Congress at the earliest moment provide itself with a national debt, which was done, the war debt being assumed by the Congressional representatives of the thirteen Colonies.

A tax was levied on spirits, and a mint started, combining the two, and making the mint encourage the consumption of spirits, and thus the increase of the tax, very likely.

A Whiskey Rebellion broke out in 1794. Pennsylvania especially rebelled at the tax on this grocery, but it was put down. (Those wishing to know which was put down will find out by consulting the Appendix (#x10_pgepubid00072), which will be issued a year from this winter.)

A few Indian wars now kept the people interested, and a large number of the red brothers, under Little Turtle, soon found themselves in the soup, as Washington put it so tersely in his message the following year. Twenty-five thousand square miles north of the Ohio were obtained by treaty from the Indians.

England claimed that traffic with America was not desirable, as the Americans did not pay their debts. Possibly that was true, for muskrat pelts were low at that time, and England refused to take cord-wood and saw-logs piled on the New York landing as cash.

Chief-Justice Jay was sent to London to confer with the king, which he did. He was not invited, however, to come to the house during his stay, and the queen did not call on Mrs. Jay. The Jays have never recovered from this snub, and are still gently guyed by the comic papers.