Recollections of a Lifetime, by Samuel Griswold Goodrich (New York & Auburn: Miller, Orton & Mulligan, 1856)

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LETTER XXIX.

Description of New London--Fort Trumbull--Fort Griswold--The British Fleet--Decatur and his Ships in the Thames--Commodore Hardy--Letters from Home--Performances of the Hartford Company--Fishing--A few British Broadsides--Apprehensions of an Attack--Great Preparations--Sober Second Thoughts--On Guard--A Suspicious Customer--Alarm, alarm!--Company called out--Expectations of instant Battle--Corporal T.'s Nightmare--Consequences--Influence of Camp Life--Return to Hartford--Land Warrants--Blue Lights--Decatur, Biddle, and Jones.

My dear C******

I must attempt to give you an idea of our position, as now established in our barracks. New London, as you doubtless know, is situated on the western bank of the River Thames, three miles from its mouth. It has now ten or twelve thousand inhabitants, but at the time I am speaking of, there were not more than four thousand. The entrance to the river is broad, and affords a fine harbor. This is defended by Fort Trumbull on the western side of the river, half a mile below the city. It was commanded, at two several periods, by my grandfather, Colonel Ely,* during the Revolutionary war, but was then a place of little strength. It fell into disrepair, but had been

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rebuilt, and contained a garrison of six or seven hundred soldiers during the war of 1812. It has recently been reconstructed on an ample scale, and is at present one of the most complete of our fortifications, mounting eighty heavy guns, and having accommodations for eight hundred men.

Opposite to New London is the village of Groton, the main street running along the river bank; on an eminence some hundred rods from the river, and commanding a view of the surrounding country, including the harbor and the islands which lie scattered near it in the Sound, is the site of Fort Griswold--the scene of one of the saddest tragedies in our revolutionary annals. Here is now a monument one hundred and thirty feet in height, erected by the State, in commemoration of this event. The old fort is, however, in ruins, though a small attached battery, lower down, and more suited to effective defense of the harbor, has been rebuilt. In my time, Fort Griswold was in tolerable repair. Our company, as well as other portions of the militia, labored upon it, and strengthened it, as well by completing its works as by erecting a small redoubt upon the southeastern side. To the defense of the latter, in case of attack, the Hartford company was assigned.

About a week after our arrival, over a thousand militia, gathered from various parts of the State, were stationed along the river, chiefly on the eastern bank. Decatur had drawn his three ships up the stream as

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far as possible, some twelve miles front its month, and near the city of Norwich. Here the river is reduced to three hundred feet in width, and flows between high rocky banks. On one of these, called Allyn's Mountain--commanding a wide view even as far south as the harbor--light intrenchments were thrown up, being deemed an effectual defense against any attack likely to be made by the enemy.

The British squadron had been for some time on the coast. As early as April, Commodore Hardy, in the flag-ship Ramiles, with the Orpheus and other vessels, having erected their standard on Block Island, cruised in this quarter. The people of New London, who had hitherto remained sheltered from the war, were now suddenly reminded of the British-fleet which came hither under the vindictive Arnold*

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thirty years before, and left behind him an imperishable remembrance of outrage and infamy.

The British commander, Hardy, conducted with the utmost courtesy and humanity, but still there was a feeling of uneasiness along the shore. This was deepened into anxiety and alarm, on the arrival of Decatur and his ships, and the consequent gathering of the British forces around the harbor, as if for at-

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tack. When we arrived, the squadron consisted, I think, of two ships-of-the-line, two frigates, and a number of smaller vessels. There was, however, a constant movement among them--the force being frequently diminished, and as frequently augmented. These changes were the occasion of constant alarm along the shore, and scarcely a day passed that we had not some rumor of a meditated attack.

Such was the state of public affairs on the surface. As to myself, I was soon drilled into the habits of a soldier. I had been permitted to go to New London and deliver my letters of introduction. I received letters from home, and in one of these, from my father, which I have preserved, I find the following passages;

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There, my dear C...., is a specimen of old Presbyterian, Blue Light, Hartford Convention Federalism, during the "late war!" It was good doctrine then, and it is good doctrine now: good to live by, and good to die by. At all events, as this letter came from home, and told me of the welfare of my friends; as it came also with a large bundle of tea, sugar, dried beef, and other things, with several pairs of stockings, mended up by my mother, and abundance of messages and good wishes, and sundry letters and scraps of letters--it put me in good heart, whether for peace or war. Who would not be a soldier, if

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thereby he becomes the object of such sympathy? Fortified by this aid and comfort,* I could cheerfully have gone to fight the British, or anybody else--"where duty called me."

The officers of our company were rigid disciplinarians, and accordingly we were drilled for about four hours each day. We soon gained much reputation for our martial exercises and our tidy appearance. Many people carne over from New London to witness our performances. Among these were often persons of distinction. On two occasions, Decatur, Biddle, and Jones carne to see us, and complimented us very heartily. On Sundays, we marched two miles to church. Being in our best guise, we caused quite a sensation. Men and women, boys and girls, streamed along at our flanks, often in a broiling sun, yet always with admiring looks.

After the morning drill, we were generally at leisure for the rest of the day, taking our turns, however, on guard, and in other occasional duties. Most

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of the soldiers gave up their rations of mess beef and potatoes, and lived on their own resources. We formed ourselves into a general club for a supply of fresh fish. Every day three of us went out fishing, and generally returned with a half-bushel basketful of various kinds, among which the blackfish or tataug--now so greatly esteemed--was always abundant. I was employed by the captain to keep his journal of our proceedings, and sometimes I was dispatched to New London, or to some one of the officers along the line, with a letter or a parcel. I established a friendly acquaintance with old Mrs. Avery, who kept a supply of excellent bread and butter, milk and eggs. I visited Fort Trumbull, and the blockaded fleet up the river. Frequently I strolled into the country, and now and then went to see "Mrs. Bailey," who even at that early period was a celebrity of Groton. I have never seen such fierce democracy as in this village, fed, as it doubtless is, upon the remembrance of the British massacre at the fort; and Mrs. Bailey was filled with its most peppery essence. The story of the flannel petticoat* was then

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recent, but it had marked her for immortality. All the soldiers went to see her, and she sang Jefferson and Liberty to them with great spirit. Once a soldier talked "old federalism" to her, by way of jest: whereupon she got up, and holding out her petticoat, danced and sang Jefferson and Liberty at him, as if that were sufficient to strike him dead.

I remember that on one occasion H.... A...., my special companion, and myself, were sent with a letter to a lieutenant, who commanded a small picket on the eastern shore, near the mouth of the river--that is, at Point Groton. It was a distance of some three miles. The weather was pleasant, and our route lay along the shore of the stream, which opens into a wide bay, as it meets the Sound. As we approached the southern point of the shore, we found ourselves quite near to the British squadron. One of 'the vessels, which we knew as the Acasta*--for we had learned all their names--was under full sail in a light wind, and coming up toward the shore. She was already so near that we could see the men, and note every movement on the deck. While we were admiring the beautiful appearance of the ship, we suddenly saw several white puffs issue from her sides,

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and uncoil themselves into volumes of smoke. Then came a deafening roar; a moment after, and in the very midst of it, there were wild howls in the air, above our heads. At a little distance beyond, the ground was plowed up, scattering the soil around, and the top of one of the forest trees, of which a few were scattered here and there, was cut asunder, and fell almost at our feet.

We understood the joke in an instant, and so did the lieutenant who commanded the picket. He was the object of the attack, and the broadside of the Acasta, sending its shot over our heads, had hurled one or two balls crashing through the roof of the little fish-hut, which he and his men occupied. In less than five minutes, they were seen trotting off at a round pace, with their cannon, jerking right and left, over the rough ground behind them. Several other shots were given, but the party escaped in safety. My companion and myself ensconced ourselves behind the rocks, and though it was grave sport, we enjoyed it exceedingly. We could trace the cannon-balls as they flew by looking like globes of mist, twinkling through the air. Several of them passed close over our heads, and grooved the earth, in long trenches, at our sides. The noise they made, as they rose high in the air, was a strange mixture, between a howl and a scream. After having thus showed her teeth, and made a great noise, the frigate returned to her anchorage, and all was quiet. I hope I shall not de-

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grade myself, as a soldier, in your eyes, by confessing that this was the only battle in which I was engaged during this glorious war!

I must, however, mention one circumstance, which, tried the souls of our company. Let me premise that, on a certain Saturday, a large accession to the British force arrived in the bay, the whole number of vessels, of all kinds, amounting to fourteen. This looked very much like an attack, and accordingly there was a feverish anxiety among the inhabitants of New London and the vicinity, and a general bustle in the army, from Groton Point to Allyn's Mountain. A large body of militia was set to work upon Fort Griswold. Our company was drilled in the little redoubt which we were to defend, and every preparation was made to give the enemy a warm reception. The general idea was, that a landing of British troops would be made on the eastern side, and that we should take the brunt of the first attack.

The sun set in clouds, and as the evening advanced, bursts of thunder, attended by flashes of lightning, muttered along the distant horizon. Our company were admonished to sleep on their arms. Every thing wore a rather ominous appearance. There were no signs of cowardice in the men, but they looked thoughtful; and when Bill W...., the laureate wit of the company, let off some of his best jokes--which would ordinarily have set the whole corps in a roar--he was answered by a dead silence. It chanced

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that I was that night on guard. My turn came at ten o'clock. Taking my gun, I paced the bank of the river, back and forth, in front of our barracks. I had received orders to let nothing pass, by land or water. It was intensely dark, but at frequent intervals, thin flashes of lightning sprang up against the distant sky, behind dark rolling masses of clouds.

Gradually the lights in the streets and windows of New London, stretching in a long line on the opposite side of the river, were extinguished one by one, a few remaining, however, as sentinels, indicating anxiety and watchfulness. The sounds on all sides were at last hushed, and left the world to darkness and to me. More than half of my two-hours' watch had passed, when I heard the dip of oars and the flapping of waves against the prow of a boat. I looked in the direction of the sounds, and at last descried the dusky outline of a small craft, stealing down the river. I cried out--"Boat ahoy! who goes there?" My voice echoed portentously in the silence, but no answer was given, and the low, black, raking apparition glided on its way. Again I challenged, but there was still no reply. On went the ghost! I cocked my gun. The click sounded ominously on the still night air. I began to consider the horror of shooting some fellow-being in the dark. I called a third time, and not without avail. The rudder was turned, the boat whirled on her heel, and a man came ashore. According to my orders, I marshaled him to the guard-

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room, and gave notice of what had happened, to the captain. The man was only a fisherman, going home, but he was detained till morning. So, you see, I can boast that I made one prisoner. My watch was soon over, and returning to my station, I laid down to sleep.

All was soon quiet, and I was buried in profound repose, when suddenly there was a cry in the main barrack-room, overhead--"Alarm! alarm!"

"Alarm! alarm!" was echoed by twenty voices, attended by quick, shuffling sounds, and followed by a hurried rush of men down the staircase. A moment after, the guard in front discharged his musket, and was answered by a long line of reports, up and down the river, from the various sentinels extending for half a dozen miles. Then came the roll of drums, and the mustering of the men. Several of our company had been out to see what was going on: they came back, saying that the enemy was approaching! J. M.... distinctly heard the roar of cannon, and positively saw the flashes of muskets. B. W.... found out that the attack had already begun upon our southern pickets. Nobody doubted that our time had come!

In a very few minutes our company was drawn up in line, and the roll was called. It was still dark, but the faint flashes gave us now and then a glimpse of each other's faces. I think we were a ghostly looking set, but it was perhaps owing to the bluish complexion of the light. J. S...., of West Hartford, who

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marched at my left shoulder--usually the lightest-hearted fellow in the company--whispered to me " Goodrich, I'd give fifty dollars to be at "West Division!" For myself, I felt rather serious, and asked a certain anxious feeling in my stomach--"What's to be done?" I thought of my father's letter, and my uncle's injunctions, and having settled it in my mind that I must fight, I closed my thoughts against all consequences, and felt that I was ready for the conflict. I was indeed almost anxious to have it come, as the suspense was painful. I afterward found, on conversing with several members of the company, that very similar trains of thought had occurred to them. Johnson, our captain, was a man of nerve and ready speech. When the roll was finished, he said in a clear, hearty tone, "All right, my good fellows! Every man at his post!" These few words--which were, however, more politic than true, for one fellow was taken with sudden colic, and could not be got out--were electrical. We were ready to take our places in the redoubt. Messengers were now sent to the two neighboring posts to inquire into the state of facts. Word was brought that the first alarm came from our barracks! The matter was inquired into, and it turned out that the whole affair was originated by our Corporal T...., who, in a fit of nightmare, jumped up and cried, "Alarm! alarm!"

Our martial ardor soon reconciled itself to this rather ludicrous denouement, though several persons,

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who had been somewhat chapfallen, became suddenly inflated with courage, which signalized itself with outbursts of--"D---- the British!" "They're a pack of sneaking cowards, after all!" and the like. The next morning was fresh and fair. The skirmishing thunder-gusts of the night had cleared the air, and even distant objects seemed near at hand. Before us lay the whole British fleet, still and harmless, in the glassy bay. My left-hand chum, J. S...., who, in the dark hour, would have given fifty dollars to be at West Division, was now himself again. "Come on here, you black old Ramiles!" said he--dashing the doubled fist of his right hand into the palm of his left: "come on here, you black-hearted British bull-dogs, and we'll do your business for you!" &c.

Notwithstanding our military duties, you will readily comprehend that we had a good deal of leisure. For the most part, this idle time was wasted, or worse than wasted. The atmosphere of a camp presents a fearful ordeal for all, but more especially for the young soldier. The restraints of society being withdrawn, the seducing and corrupting influences which naturally spring up and riot in such a soil, too often lead captive the strong as well as the weak. The military spirit is opposed to reflection: it is reckless, banishes thought, and teaches a kind of self-abandonment. Our officers set an excellent example, and there was less of degradation in our company than in others. Still, among us, there was a general reading

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of bad books, a great deal of petty gambling, and not a little tippling. It was easy to see, week by week the gradual wearing away of the sense of propriety of gentlemanly tastes, and general conservatism, in at least one-half the young men of our company. A similar declension was visible throughout the whole body of militia along the line. My own conviction was and is, that military life is exceedingly degrading, and especially to militia, who are suddenly called away from the usual safeguards of virtue, and exposed to new and unexpected seductions.

Fortunately our period of service was brief. In about six weeks from the time of our departure, we were dismissed, and returned to our homes. Thus closed my military career, so far as relates to active service. The remembrances of my first and last campaign are, on the whole, pleasant. There were feelings of fraternity established between the members of the company which have continued to this day, save only in regard to those which the grave has sundered. My country has not been unmindful of my services; for I have received two land-warrants--giving me a title to some hundred and sixty acres--with the fresh virgin soil of the Far West upon them. Say not that republics are ungrateful!

A few words more, and this chapter is done. You have doubtless heard about the "Connecticut Blue Lights," and of course conceive the term to imply some ignominious stain upon the reputation of this,

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the "land of steady habits." You will expect me, therefore, to tell yon the story of its origin.

The preceding pages have shown you that Decatur, commanding the American frigate United States, after a brief and glorious career upon the ocean, subsequent to the declaration of war, had been driven into the Thames with his prize, the Macedonian, and the sloop-of-war Hornet. Here they were all cooped up, like strong men bound hand and foot. You can readily imagine the effect of such a situation upon a person like Decatur. He was--as all the world knows--of an ardent and impetuous temperament--impulsive, impatient, irascible. No man was ever less qualified to endure the protracted and inglorious idleness of his present position. He was high-hearted, patriotic, proud of the navy: he was ambitious, and panted for glory, His bleeding country needed his services: his fellow-officers of the navy were lighting the face of the ocean in both, hemispheres with their brilliant exploits. He was imprisoned, and with him three noble ships. How then must he have panted to be free!

I have told you that I saw him on several occasions. He was rather below the middle size, but of a remarkably compact and symmetrical form. He was broad-shouldered, full-chested, thin in the flank: his eye was black, piercing, and lit with a spark of fire. His nose was thin, and slightly hooked: his lips were firm, his chin small, but smartly developed. His

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whole face was long and bony; his complexion swarthy; his hair jet black, and twisted in ropy curls down his forehead and over his ears. Altogether he was a remarkable looking man, and riveted the attention of every one who saw him. By the side of the quiet, thoughtful Jones, and the dark, handsome, complacent Biddle--his fellow-prisoners--he seemed like a caged eagle, ready to rend in atoms the bars which restrained him.

Decatur did not conceal his impatience: his ill-humor rendered him unjust. He was not chary in his speech, and in fact he made himself many enemies by the freedom and vehemence with which he expressed his political opinions. Certainly he and the citizens of New London were heartily tired of each other. The latter were indeed most anxious to get rid of him and his squadron, inasmuch as their presence in the Thames brought upon the inhabitants all the dangers, anxieties, and miseries of war.

That Decatur should desire to escape, and that he should have the co-operation of all the people of New London, heart and hand, would seem to be matters of course. At last he resolved to make the attempt. In October he began, gently and quietly, to drop down the river, and by the last of November was in the harbor of New London. On the night of the 12th of December all things were prepared, and the vessels were about to depart, in the hope of eluding the blockading squadron in the darkness.

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Now note the ominous fact: at different times, from eight to ten o'clock in the evening, blue lights were thrown up, apparently from the land, along the shore, and on both sides of the river. Decatur assumed, at once, that these were signals, sent up by traitorous Americans, announcing to the enemy his intended departure. So positive was the conclusion, that he totally suspended his operations, and from that time made no further efforts to escape. He wrote a letter, giving an account of the affair, and did not scruple to charge the assumed treason upon the people of New London! That letter--unjust, untrue, and absurd as it was--passed into the history of the time, and party rancor, seizing upon the slander, has .continued to use it to the present day. Blue Lights, meaning treason on the part of Connecticut federalism during the war, is a standard word in the flash dictionary of low democracy.

Now, let me make one or two suggestions. Be it remembered, that, from the beginning, Decatur was mainly indebted to the federalists of Connecticut for protection: the general government had no force sufficient to keep the enemy at bay, when he sought shelter in the Thames. His presence there brought expense, anxiety, gloom, upon the State. It involved the people of New London in every species of vexation, disquietude, and danger. How absurd, then--how contrary to all logic--to accuse them, or any of them, of attempting to prevent his departure, which,

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above all things, was what they desired! Nothing but the obliquity of a mind diseased by disappointment, can excuse such a charge, made in the face of such plain and palpable contradiction.

But what were these blue lights? Now you must understand that I had left New London in July, and these events occurred in December. Yet while I was there, blue lights, and indeed lights of various other colors, were often seen, apparently along the shore; and it was generally understood that these were signals thrown up from the British ships, or perhaps from parties of the enemy cruising in boats among the islands, or going ashore on the main land. It was impossible, in most cases, to determine whether these came from the land or the water;* at all events,

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they were very common. They were always attributed to the British, and excited no particular interest. They were regarded only as telegraphs of the enemy, which, in general, they and they only could read.

Now, there is not one particle of evidence that these blue lights, seen by Decatur, were in any respect different from the others, familiar to everybody living in New London. They were never traced, even by suspicion, to any individual. There is no proof that they came from the land; and even if they did, they might still have come from British parties ashore. Or, if they were the work of traitors--Americans--these were isolated individuals, and their conduct would have been held in abhorrence by the whole people. To charge it, then, upon the inhabitants of New London--to attempt thus to stain the character of a city, and indirectly a whole State--was one of those acts which should have excited the indignation of every honorable mind.

I need only add, that I have never met an individual, living in New London at the time, who did not consider this imputation as absurd in itself, and

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as having no foundation, except in the warped and excited imagination of Decatur. I believe every member of the Hartford company--and they had good opportunity to judge of the matter--regarded it in this light. It was a wrong act on his part, and those who desire to cherish his fame--which after all is one of the glories of our country--should admit that it was an error, and do what they may to repair it. Those who seek to make the scandal live, only perpetuate the memory of the injustice which originated it.*

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LETTER XXX.

Continuation of the War--The Creeks subdued--Battles of Chippewa and Bridgewater--Capture of Washington--Bladensburg Races-- Humiliation of the President--Defense of Baltimore--The Star-spangled Banner--Ravages of the Coast by the British Fleet--Downfall of Napoleon--Scarcity of Money--Rag Money--Bankruptcy of the National Treasury--The Specie Bank-note, or Mr. Sharp and Mr. Sharper--Scarcity and exorbitant Prices of British Goods--Depression of all Kinds of Business--My Pocket-book Factory--Naval and Land Battle at Plattsburg--Universal Gloom--State of New England--Anxiety of the Administration--Their Instructions to the Peace Commissioners--Battle of New Orleans--Peace--Illuminations and Rejoicings.

My dear C******

I must lay aside, for the present, my own personal history, that I may complete this hasty sketch of the war. I now approach the last year--that of 1814--which happily closed the inglorious struggle.

Merely noticing important events, I remark that the Creek war, conducted on our part by General Jackson, and ending in a complete humiliation of the savages, early in this year--however it abounded in striking incidents--made little immediate impression upon us at the North, partly because the theater of operations was remote, and partly because it was over-

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shadowed by the more important struggle with Great Britain. The battles of Chippewa and Bridgewater, in July, displaying gallant deeds on the part of our troops--officers as well as men--everywhere excited lively demonstrations of sympathy. I think the success of our arms was always cheered, even by the federalists--the feeling of national pride, and the real hostility to Great Britain, triumphing over party feeling. When the news came that--August 24th--the city of Washington had been invaded, captured, desolated--the President and his cabinet having actually fled like a flock of sheep--there was a deep, burning sense of indignation and shame: indignation, at the want of forethought, courage, and conduct on the part of the national executive; and shame, at the humiliating spectacle we presented to the world--we who had begun the war in boasting, now seeing our officials disgraced by pusillanimity, and our capital desecrated by the. presence and occupation of an enemy! I shall let this humiliating page in our history pass, with the simple remark, that the feeble and cowardly President seems on that occasion to have drunk deep of the bitter cup of humiliation, in recompense for having bartered the peace of the country for the poor bauble of a second term of office. The future has, doubtless, some instructive light to shed upon this passage of our national history.*

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A few weeks after the capture of Washington, the British troops, led by General Ross, landed at North Point, fourteen miles from Baltimore, and immediately commenced their march toward the city. They were met by the American militia, and in a skirmish, the British general was killed. The enemy advanced the next morning as far as the defenses of that place, hastily thrown up by the Americans; here they made several threatening demonstrations, but such was the firm and formidable front of the Americans, that the nest morning they silently withdrew, and speedily embarked on board their shipping. While the British were marching on Baltimore, the fleet advanced up the Patapsco, and bombarded Fort McHenry nearly a whole day and night. The gallant and effectual defense of that fortress, gave rise to the beautiful national song of the "Star-spangled Banner."*

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As summer advanced, the clouds seemed to thicken over our country on every side. The coasts of New York and New England were kept in a constant state of anxiety and alarm, by British squadrons sweeping our shipping from the sea, and occasionally making descents upon the land. The treasury of the United States was exhausted,* and the government

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seemed on the point of bankruptcy. And more than all--Napoleon had fallen, and on the 4th of April had departed for his exile at Elba; the allies had triumphed--Great Britain, the mistress of the sea, the leading power of the world, was now free to turn her whole power against us in America. She was exasperated by the feeling that we had declared war against her, with the design of aiding her great enemy at the very time she was struggling for self-preservation against nearly all Europe, which he had combined against her. Already the veterans who had triumphed under Wellington, were collecting in Canada, and the ships, long occupied in the European war, were crowding hither, like vultures, eager for their prey. Dismay spread along the whole maritime frontier, where the inhabitants, no longer placing any reliance upon the general government, which seemed totally paralyzed, were all up in arms, mustering and drilling with one hundred and twenty thousand militia in the field. Portland, Boston, Providence, New Haven, New York, Baltimore, Richmond, Norfolk, Charleston, Savannah, were busy in throwing up fortifications.*

I remember perfectly well, the universal state of anxiety and depression which prevailed in New England at this time. The acts of government, the movements of fleets and armies, furnish no idea of the con-

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dition of society in its daily life. Let me give you a few items as indications of the embarrassments, vexations, and privations which the war had brought into every man's house and home. Such a thing as silver or gold money was almost unknown. The chief circulation consisted of bills of suspended banks, or what were called "facilities;" that is, bank-notes, authorized by the legislature of Connecticut, redeemable in three years after the war. These were at fifteen to twenty-five per cent. discount compared with specie. Banks issued notes of fifty, twenty-five, and twelve-and-a-half cents. Barbers put out bills, payable in shaving, and various institutions adopted a similar course. This whole mass acquired the title of "rag money," "shin-plasters," &c.: a large portion of it was notoriously worthless, either as being counterfeit, or issued by irresponsible parties, yet it generally passed without scrutiny. I recollect a person at a turnpike-gate offered a five-dollar bank-note, and received in change a large, greasy wad of bills, of various names, hues, and designs. He glanced at it, and said to the keeper--"Why, half of this is counterfeit!"

"I know it," was the reply; "but it passes just as well as any other."

A specie bank-bill* was almost an object of worship. An anecdote will illustrate this. In our city of H....

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there were a shrewd man and a greedy man, who had some dealings with each other about these days, when the following scene occurred;

Shrewd Man. Do you recollect giving me a ten-dollar bill in change yesterday, Mr. C....?

Greedy Man. No, I don't: why do you ask?

S. M. Well, I found a specie bill of ten dollars in my purse, and I thought, perhaps, I might have received it of you. You remember I was only entitled to a facility, and not to a specie bill?

G. M. Well, I dare say you had it of me: let me see it.

S. M. There it is!

G. M. Oh yes; I recollect it perfectly. I'll take it, and give you a facility. There!

S. M. Are you sure, Mr. C...., that you gave me that specie bill?

G. M, Certainly, certainly: I recollect it distinctly.

S. M. Well, I'm glad you are sure, for they tell me the specie bill is counterfeit!

At this period, all kinds of British merchandise had become very scarce, and many had entirely vanished from the market. There was a small supply of certain articles, from time to time, furnished by the vessels captured by our ships and privateers, and some convenient and necessary goods were smuggled in from Canada. There was, in fact, a large amount of money--and this was all specie--sent to the British Provinces for pins, needles, jewelry, laces, muslins,

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cambrics, chintzes, silks, sewing-silk, buttons, &c., &c. These merchandises were so costly that a man would frequently carry the value of a thousand dollars in a pair of saddlebags, sometimes on his shoulders, and sometimes on horseback. The life of the smuggler along the line, at this period, was one of danger and adventure. In some instances, persons laid the foundations of future fortune in this illicit traffic. I recollect very well the prices at which we sold some of these articles: calico, now worth twelve and a half cents, readily brought seventy-five cents the yard; cotton-cambric, now twenty cents, then a dollar; linen handkerchiefs, now fifty cents, then two dollars; fine broadcloth, now five dollars, then twelve, or even fifteen dollars. The average prices of British goods, at retail, were about four times what they are now.

In point of fact, however, our dry-goods trade was almost destroyed. Domestic products were enormously dear--flour at one time eighteen dollars a barrel--at Boston! I had personal experience of the universal depression. In the summer of 1814, I was out of my time, and cast about for some employment. I went to New York for this object, but found not the slightest encouragement. After some reflection, I established a manufactory of pocket-books, in connection with one of my friends, J. S. S...., who furnished the capital. The greatest difficulty was to find the materials. I made expeditions to Boston, Charles-

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ton, Providence, &c., and was not able to obtain over fifty pieces of morocco fit for the purpose. In December I went to New York, and was more successful. I had made a considerable purchase, and dispatched my goods by the wagoner, for you will remember that Long Island Sound was in the occupation of the enemy.* Pretty well content with my success, I had gone in the evening to a concert at the City Hotel. While listening to the music, there was a murmur in the streets. Soon the door of the concert-room was thrown open, and in rushed a man all breathless with excitement. He mounted on a table, and swinging a white handkerchief aloft, cried out--

"Peace! Peace! Peace!"

The music ceased: the hall was speedily vacated. I rushed into the street, and oh, what a scene! But, I beg your pardon, I have not yet done with the war!

Amidst general gloom and despondency, a broad ray of light came suddenly from the north--the general scene of disaster and disgrace. In the spring of this year, General Wilkinson was superseded by General Izard, but while the latter, with the flower of the American army, was drawn off toward Sackett's Harbor, the British general, Provost, advanced across the country toward Plattsburg, situated on the western side of Lake Champlain. Hitherto the enemy's

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force in this quarter had been small, but now, replenished by the veterans who had fought in the Peninsula under Wellington, and who had seemed invincible, he mustered twelve thousand men. Macomb, the American commander, left with only three thousand regular troops, was soon reinforced by three thousand militia from Vermont and New York. He was strongly intrenched behind the Saranac--which flows through Plattsburg to the lake--and here the enemy assailed him. The British fleet, under Commodore Downie, came gallantly on to their assistance: Macdonough,* commander of the American squadron, now closed with them, and then came such a fight as is seldom seen. It was a deadly action of more than two hours--ship to ship, broadside to broadside. At last the enemy was silenced--victory was on our side. Nearly the whole British fleet was captured. This was decisive of the conflict in this quarter. Simultaneously with the naval attack, the land forces of the enemy had advanced against the Americans under Macomb. But the defeat of the naval

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force disheartened them, a panic ensued, and under cover of a storm, they hastily retreated, leaving behind them their sick and wounded, and a part of their baggage and stores. Their whole loss was estimated at no less than two thousand five hundred men! This double victory--Sept. 11, 1814--was indeed some compensation for the disgrace inflicted upon us a few weeks before at Washington.

The clouds of despondency, however, still lowered over our country, in its length and breadth. It is now known that the Administration was deeply alarmed at the perilous condition into which it had brought the country. The humbled and dismayed President, in his message to Congress in September,* evidently thinking no more of conquest, was solely occupied with the means of self-preservation. But however painful the condition of other parts of the United States, New England, beyond all question, was exposed to peculiar and trying difficulties. Her preparation for the war had been a series of destructive acts on the part of the government, which had spread general poverty throughout her entire territories. Commerce, which was then her life, had nearly perished under embargoes and non-intercourse acts, to

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which had now been added three years of war.* And in this condition she had been left by the general government without defense, having a coast of seven hundred miles exposed to the enemy. That enemy, in the full triumph of his arms over Napoleon, was gathering his forces along the northern frontier, and spreading his navies over our waters, and in the very sight of our seaports. Already portions of our territory were in his possession, and our towns and villages were not only exposed, but some of them had been actually subjected, to ravage and plunder.

There was evidently no hope but in the people themselves. The general government had abandoned them: it is historical, and beyond dispute, that while the policy of the Administration allowed and encour-

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aged the democratic governors of several States to call out the local militia for defense, permitting them to have their own officers and paying the expenses thus incurred, a totally different system was adopted in respect to the federal States of New England. Here the general government insisted upon the exclusive control of military movements, and flatly refused paying the militia, because they were not placed under the command of United States officers. What was then to be done? This was the anxious question in city, village, and hamlet, from one end of the country to the other. The people--the great body of the people--were agitated with a deep sense of injury, of suffering, of anxiety. In this state of things, a project was suggested, in the good old Puritan county of Hampshire, in Massachusetts, which resulted in the Hartford Convention. It had been the custom, from time immemorial--in days of doubt and danger--for the inhabitants of the Pilgrim land to call together their wise men, to seek, by counsel and co-operation, the path of duty and deliverance. The history of New England tells us that, on almost every page. Had they not a right to do so now? Was it not natural for them to take this course--to follow the example of their fathers? Is it fair, is it just, is it reasonable, to seek any other motive than this, which lies open and plain upon the face of things, with nothing to contradict it?

I have a few more words to say on that subject,

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but I lay them aside for the present, that I may complete my chronological memoranda of the war. This done, I will give you my recollections of that famous or infamous assembly.

It was now evident to the whole country that we had changed positions with the enemy. At the outset, the war was aggressive on our part: we had sought to invade and conquer a portion of his territory: in this we had failed, and now released from his embarrassments, he was threatening us on all sides, thus calling upon us for defense. It appears that the Administration now felt the absolute necessity of bringing the war to a close. Great Britain had made an offer to treat for peace, and our government accepted it, appointing J. Q. Adams, Henry Clay, Jonathan Russell, Albert Gallatin, and J. A. Bayard, as Commissioners for that object. The instructions at first given, required them to insist upon a withdrawal of the pretensions of Great Britain to the right of search and impressment--the only substantial object of the war. After the news of the prostration of Napoleon, other instructions were given, directing that even this should not be insisted upon. The agents of the two governments met at Ghent, in Belgium, in August. As we had withdrawn every material obstruction, a treaty of peace was finally agreed upon and signed, at Ghent, Dec. 24, 1814.

The news of this event did not reach the United States until the llth of February, 1815--a space of

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forty-nine days--for then steam navigation had not brought the Old and New World within ten days' sail. While the tidings of peace were thus lagging across the Atlantic, the war still lowered over our country. It was soon apparent that the enemy meditated a blow at some portion of the Southern States. At length, after various movements, and some severe encounters with our forces under General Jackson, the British general, Packenham, advanced against the American intrenchments, four miles below New Orleans, with a force of twelve thousand men. Their design evidently was to capture New Orleans. Behind their breastworks of bales of cotton, sis thousand Americans, mostly militia, awaited the attack. It came, but our well-aimed cannon and deadly rifles mowed down the enemy like a scythe. The plain was speedily covered with the dead and the dying. General Packenham was killed, and his successor, Gibbs, was mortally wounded. The British troops--most of them veterans, and conquerors in many a bloody field--were panic-stricken, and fled. The loss on their side was seven hundred killed and one thousand wounded: the loss on ours was seven killed and six wounded! The Saxon had met the Saxon: the American rifle had triumphed over the British bayonet. It was on our part a glorious victory; but let it be remembered, that it was in defense of our territories--our homes and firesides. The moral of the war is well told in its opening and

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closing scenes: in attempting conquest, our flag was humbled at Detroit; in self-defense, it became immortal at New Orleans!

This great victory on the part of General Jackson--which afterward carried him into the presidential chair--took place on the 8th of January, 1815--fifteen days after the signing of the treaty of peace. The rumor of this triumph had reached Washington, and began to raise the drooping spirits of the country; but a still more cheering event was at hand. As I have already stated, the news of the treaty of peace arrived in New York on the 11th of February, 1815. It was about eight o'clock on Saturday evening, that the tidings circulated through the city. I have told you that I was there. In half, an hour after the news reached the wharf, Broadway was one living sea of shouting, rejoicing people. "Peace! peace! peace!" was the deep, harmonious, universal anthem. The whole spectacle was enlivened by a sudden inspiration. Somebody came with a torch: the bright idea passed into a thousand brains. In a few minutes, thousands and tens of thousands of people were marching about with candles, lamps, torches--making the jubilant street appear like a gay and gorgeous procession. The whole, night Broadway sang its song of peace. We were all democrats, all federalists! Old enemies rushed into each other's arms: every house was in a revel: every heart seemed melted by a joy which banished all evil thought

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and feeling. Nobody asked, that happy night, what were the terms of the treaty: we had got peace--that was enough! I moved about for hours in the ebbing and flowing tide of people, not being aware that I had opened my lips. The next morning I found that I was hoarse from having joined in the exulting cry of peace, peace!

The next day, Sunday, all the churches sent up hymns of thanksgiving for the joyous tidings. I set out in the stage-coach on Monday morning for Connecticut. All along the road, the people saluted us with swinging of hats and cries of rejoicing. At one place, in rather a lonesome part of the road, a schoolmaster came out with the whole school at his heels to ask us if the news was true. We told him it was: whereupon he tied his bandanna pocket-handkerchief to a broom, swung it aloft, and the whole school hosannaed--"Peace! peace!" At all our stopping-places, the people were gathered to rejoice in the good tidings. At one little tavern, I looked into a room, by chance, the door being open, and there I saw the good wife, with a chubby boy in her lap--both in a perfect gale of merriment--the child crying out, "Peath! peath!" Oh, ye makers of war, reflect upon this heartfelt verdict of the people in behalf of peace!

We arrived at New Haven in the evening, and found it illuminated: the next day I reached Hartford, and there was a grand illumination there. The news

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spread over the country, carrying with it a wave of shouts and rejoicings. Boston became clamorous with pealing bells; the schools had a jubilee; the blockaded shipping, rotting at the dilapidated wharves, got out their dusty buntings, and these--ragged and forlorn--now flapped merrily in the breeze. At night the city flamed far and wide--from Beacon-street down the bay, telling the glorious tale even unto Cape Cod. So spread the news over the country, everywhere carrying joy to every heart--with, perhaps, a single exception. At Washington, the authors of the war peeped into the dispatches, and found that the treaty had no stipulations against Orders in Council, Paper Blockades, or Impressments! All that could be maintained was that we had made war, charging the enemy with very gross enormities, and we had made peace, saying not one word about them! Madison and his party had in fact swallowed the declaration of war whole, and it naturally caused some uneasy qualms in the regions of digestion. "Let us, however," said they, "put a good face upon it: we can hide our shame for the moment in the smoke of Jackson's victory; as to the rest, why we can brag the country into a belief that it has been a glorious war!" Madison set the example, in a boasting message, and his party organs took up the tune, and have played it bravely till the present day.

But what saith history--not partisan history, not

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history addressed to Buncombe, not history written in subservient demagogism to national vanity--but history, speaking the truth and fearing not? What saith the record?* Assuredly this, that the war had its origin in partisan interests, and was carried on in a similar spirit; that it was the war of the Administration, and not of the nation, and so far was disastrous and disgraceful. It was begun without preparation, it was carried on in weakness; it was characterized by failure, it was terminated by a treaty which left us where we began--save only that a hundred millions of dollars and thirty thousand lives had been expend-

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ed in the inglorious struggle. All the lights of this period belong to the people or to the opposition--all the shadows to the war-makers. Hull's surrender, Dearborn's blunders, Wilkinson's abortions, were the work of the Administration, attempting the conquest of Canada: the desecration of Washington is wholly chargeable to the personal weakness and pusillanimity of the President and his cabinet. The glory of the navy belongs to the federalists, who were its fathers--the democrats being its open and avowed enemies and opposers: the victories of Plattsburg, Baltimore, and New Orleans, belong not to the spirit of Madison, who would conquer Canada, but to that spirit which is indigenous to the country, to the people--democrats and federalists--everywhere--who will fight and conquer in defense of our soil, even though the war be brought upon us by a feeble and unpatriotic government.

Let us be frank, and confess the truth: the war, in the aspects in which history thus presents it, was disgraceful to the authors of it: it was, in many respects, disastrous to the country; and yet it has left us som[e] wholesome lessons. It has shown the danger and folly of plunging a great country into a national conflict, for narrow and selfish purposes, because--under such circumstances--the people will be divided, and it will be a partisan and not a patriotic war; it has put on record another instance in which war has been declared in boasting, and ended precisely where it be-

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gan, after years of violence, sorrow, and bloodshed; it has shown our weakness in a war of conquest, and our strength in a war of defense; it has shown us that the sea is the true theater upon which we should ever be prepared to attack and repel every European enemy. It has shown us that without preparation, and with divided counsels, we are weak, but that with union of heart and proper precautions, we need not fear any combination the world can bring against us. It has shown, also--in connection with subsequent events--the superiority of peace to war, even in obtaining the ends of justice, for let it be remembered, that Daniel Webster extorted from Great Britain by the force of argument, that which the sword could not achieve. His letter to Lord Ashburton* silenced, and doubtless forever, the British pretensions to the "right of search"--thus demonstrating the superiority of an old federal quill, to all the gunpowder that mere Madison democracy could command! The pen is master of the sword.

And now, my dear C...., I ask you in all serious-

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ness--is it not time for that arrogance to cease--which claims for democracy all the patriotism, all the success, all the glory of the war of 1812, and charges upon federalism a uniform course of secret or open treason, with the responsibility of all the failures, disasters, and disgraces which attended the conflict?

Let me observe, by the way, that I do not condemn the feelings of the great body of the democrats, in their support of the war. Believing it to be just and proper, their ardor, their patriotism, their perseverance in the maintenance of the struggle, were honorable to them. I do full homage to their spirit, to their patriotism. I can overlook that partisan bigotry which burned in their bosoms at the time, and even embittered the intercourse of society. It was natural for them to feel indignant at the conduct of those who--holding opposite opinions--pursued an opposite course, in so serious a question as that of war with a foreign enemy. Nor was their example, in this respect, very different from that of the federalists. Both parties were wrought into a kind of frenzy by the irritation of mutual opposition and mutual hostility.

While doing this justice to the democracy, I claim the same candor for the federalists. They acted according to their convictions, as I have before said, and this was not only their right but their duty. The doctrine of the war partisans, holding legal, constitutional opposition to an administration which has declared war, to be treason, is alike dangerous and

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despotic. A war may be declared merely to serve a party: the administration may be base, incompetent, treacherous; yet, if this doctrine be true, the people--having lost the greatest of all rights--the right to think, speak, and act, according to their convictions--are bound to give a blind and slavish support to those who, either by incompetence or corruption, are leading the country to ruin.

Let me invite your attention to the principles of New England--the federalists of New England--as stated by Daniel Webster, in a Fourth of July oration, at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, a few days after the declaration of war:

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That was the federal doctrine, and that the federal practice. Now I put it to your conscience--is not

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this more manly, more American, more in the spirit of true liberty, than the slavish doctrine which, holds every man to be a traitor who does not support the administration--good or bad, wise or unwise--even against his honest convictions?*

If, then, the people of New England had a right to follow their convictions, what was their actual conduct? Look closely into the history of the times--peruse the acts of legislatures, the doings of authorized public assemblies--and you will find a uniform, unswerving loyalty to the Constitution, the country, and the laws. The federalists of New England did not--like Albert Gallatin and other democrats, afterward supporters of the war, and believers in the doctrine that opposition is treason--rise in rebellion, and seek to overthrow the government. They did not--like Calhoun, another democrat, and one of the chief authors of the war, as well as one of the promoters of this gag-law of conscience--array the States in arms, and cry out for a dissolution of the Union! They did not--as is now the fashion, even with certain democrats in full communion with the party--claim that the Union shall be

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torn asunder, whenever the administration of the government does not altogether please them. No: their standard of duty was higher than that--resistance and insurrection formed no part of their creed or their conduct: they were taxed, and they paid; their personal services were required, and they rendered them to the extent of their constitutional liability; they defended the country, and even the property of the United States, when the general government was powerless to protect them; they stood by the Constitution, as a thing too sacred to be violated, even under the extremest oppression of what they deemed an unwise and unpatriotic government!

Who, then, has a right to accuse them of treason? Not the Nullifier, nor the Disunionist, nor the Secessionist--all clamorous for the destruction of the Union, whenever, in their opinion, the government is not properly administered; surely no member of a party, who holds in its bosom, and cherishes as in full fellowship, individuals who are chiefly distinguished for bearing these names, and for asserting and propagating these doctrines! Strange is it--passing strange--that from the beginning--in peace or war--New England Federalism should have furnished a steady example of loyalty to the Constitution, and that--springing from her bosom, and expressive of her spirit--she should have given to this country the acknowledged Champion of the Constitution and the Union; that at the same time, South-

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ern Democracy should have been the breeder cf secession and disunion; that it should have furnished to the country the Arch Nullifier himself; and yet that this same Democracy presumes to point its finger at New England, and cry--"Treason, treason to the Union!" Certainly a democrat may steal a horse, but a federalist may not look over a hedge!

Let us, my dear C...., be just--just in the sight of God and man; let us render homage to the patriotism of the great body of the people of the United States--democrats and federalists--during the war of 1812-14. We may sincerely admire that cheerful, gallant, devoted spirit, which sustained the struggle without inquiring as to its justice or its prudence; at the same time, we are bound equally to respect that calmness and equanimity with which a people, deeply conscious of injury and injustice, observed the laws, and, within their limits, defied alike the aggressions of a partisan government and a foreign enemy. Doing this justice to the people, on both sides and of both parties, let history hold to a stern reckoning the selfishness of those men who declared or promoted the war, merely or mainly to subserve the interests of party!