We must now rapidly pass over the remaining quarter of a century, and in so doing merely pause upon such events as give a marked character to the progress of the years.
The first which we shall notice is of a moral rather than a political character; one calculated to produce infinite results for the happiness of humanity. It was in the year 1826 when temperance societies took their first organised form. At that time one of the besetting sins of the Americans was the use of ardent spirits; and so widely-spread was this pernicious habit of dram-drinking, that the statistics of that period present a calculation that, out of a white population of 10,000,000, between 3,000,000 and 4,000,000 were habitual spirit-drinkers, of whom 375,000 drank daily on an average three gills of ardent spirits, while an equal number consumed more than twice the quantity, and of course were drunkards—a disgrace to themselves and their country, and a perpetual source of discomfort to their relatives and friends. In this situation of things, continues Hinton, in his History, from which we have taken the above calculations, a few individuals in the state of Massachusetts undertook the gigantic and seemingly impracticable task of bringing about a reformation. The means which they proposed was the establishment of temperance societies, the members of which bound themselves to total abstinence from spirituous liquors. The scheme was considered as ridiculous; and even many who beheld drunkenness with disgust smiled at the inadequate weapon with which it seemed to them this monster vice was about to be attacked. But God crowned their grain-of-mustard-seed-effort with gigantic success. Societies on the plan of the parent-institution, and zealously co-operating with it, sprang up in all parts of the Union. In September, 1832, there were in the state of New York alone, about 4,000 temperance societies, of which one-thirtieth of the whole population were members. And since that time the cause has progressed immensely. In 1841 there were 2,000,000 pledged teetotallers, 15,000 whom were reformed drunkards; and in 1846 about 5,000,000. In Maine, Massachusetts, New York, Vermont, Maryland, Wisconsin and Michigan, legislative enactments have first restrained, then prohibited, under pains and penalties, the traffic in intoxicating liquors.
One other event, which occurred during the presidentship of John Quincy Adams, and in which he took a very lively interest, must be mentioned—the formation of the anti-masonic societies. The cause was this: One William Morgan, a quiet, inoffensive man, a citizen of Batavia, in Genesee County, New York, was about to publish a book, disclosing, as was said, the secrets of Freemasonry. On the 11th of September, 1826, it being then Sunday, this man was taken from his home, his wife, and children, under colour of a criminal process, into Ontario County, examined and discharged. The very same day, however, instead of being allowed to return home, he was again arrested and thrown into jail by the persons who brought the first charge against him. Again these same people paid his debt, and immediately upon his issuing from prison, which was then in the darkness of night, he was again seized, gagged, and forced into a carriage, which was rapidly driven 150 miles, relays of horses and carriages being prepared along the whole line of road, and in this manner conveyed, as after inquiry showed, to the Canadian frontier, lodged in solitary confinement within the walls of an old fortress, and after five days was supposed to be transported, at the dead of night, “to the wide channel of the Niagara river, by four royal archcompanions and sunk to the bottom. Nine days were occupied in the execution of this masonic sentence; and at least 300 worthy brethren and companions of the order were engaged as principals or accessories in the guilt of this cluster of crimes.”[79]
It was in vain that the legislature of New York passed an act ordering a strict investigation of the subject. Although numerous persons were proved to be implicated in the abduction, it was impossible to procure any evidence of the manner in which the unfortunate man had been destroyed. All that could be learnt was, that a body, said to be that of Morgan, was found below Fort Niagara. It being impossible, therefore, to bring forward testimony which would warrant a charge of murder, it was resolved to prosecute on that of abduction. But here again insuperable difficulties were thrown in the way by the masonic fraternity. Many witnesses were removed out of reach, grand juries were packed, intimidation exercised, and every art put in practice to insure impunity to the criminals. And although in some instances convictions were obtained, and the conspirators punished, all the chief actors managed to set the law at defiance.
Morgan’s abduction, and the formidable influence which the masonic fraternity was found to possess, in the attempt to convict for that crime, excited extreme indignation and disgust against these secret and powerful societies in the minds of the citizens of New York, who argued that secret societies were not only dangerous, but incompatible with the institutions of a republican government, that their oaths and mysteries were illegal and immoral, and that the use of them must disqualify for offices of public trust. A political party, called Anti-Masonic, soon rose in the western part of the state, which acquired such great influence that its leaders became members of the legislative body. The example of New York was followed by the states of Vermont, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New Jersey, Maryland, Delaware, Ohio, and the territory of Michigan. But freemasonry existed through it all.
About the time that the anti-masonic party began to decline, the anti-slavery party arose. It still has its work to do; to battle with oppression and crime a thousand times greater than that of freemasonry. May God help the right!
The presidential election of 1828 was decided in favour of General Jackson of Tennessee, with whose arbitrary and decisive military movements we are already acquainted; and John Calhoun, of South Carolina, was chosen vice-president. When, on the 4th of March, 1829, Jackson assumed the reins of government, he found the country rich and prosperous, at perfect peace with all nations, and having in the national treasury a surplus of more than 5,000,000 dollars.
During the year 1828, congress enacted a tariff law, laying protective duties on such imported articles as competed with certain manufactured goods and agricultural products of the United States, by means of which additional duties were laid on wool and woollen goods, iron, hemp and its fabrics, distilled spirits, silk-stuffs, window-glass and cottons. The manufacturing states were well pleased with this law, which, however, was highly unsatisfactory to cotton-planters of the southern states. This tariff law was the fertile source of agitation, and almost revolution, during the presidentship of General Jackson.
In April of 1832, the Winnebagoes, Sacs, and Foxes, Indian tribes inhabiting the upper Mississippi, commenced hostilities under their celebrated chief, Black Hawk, re-entering the lands which had been sold to the United States, and which were now occupied by the citizens of Illinois. The so-called sale of Indian lands was frequently anything but with the free-will of the red man, and, as in this very instance, the Sac Indians were extremely unwilling to vacate their lands; but American generals, of the same character as the president, unscrupulous and resolute, not troubled either with too much conscience or too much sensibility, were ever at hand ready to pledge themselves “within fifteen days to remove the Indians, dead or alive, over to the west side of the Mississippi.” The conduct of Black Hawk on this occasion is worthy to be related. Gaines, the American general, rose in the council of the chiefs, and said that the president was displeased with the refusal of the Sacs to go to the west of the great river. Black Hawk replied that the Sacs, of which he was the chief, had never sold their lands, and were determined to hold them.
“Who is this Black Hawk? Is he a chief?” inquired the general. “What right has he in the council?”
Black Hawk rose, and gathering his blanket round him, walked out of the assembly. The next morning he was again in the council, and rising slowly, said, addressing the American general: “My father, you inquired yesterday, ‘Who is this Black Hawk? Why does he sit among the chiefs?’ I will tell you who I am. I am a Sac; my father was a Sac; I am a warrior, and so was my father. Ask those young men who have followed me to battle, and they will tell you who Black Hawk is; provoke our people to war, and you will learn who Black Hawk is.”
The people were provoked to war, and the Americans learned to know Black Hawk. He and his warriors came mounted and armed into the country which they still claimed as their own, and broke up the settlements of the white intruders, killing whole families and destroying their dwellings. Generals Scott and Atkinson were sent out against them. But an enemy more formidable than the red man went with them, and thinned their ranks more remorselessly than the hatchet of the savage. This was the cholera. The troops embarked in steamboats at Buffalo, and the disease made its first appearance on board. Great numbers died; great numbers also deserted on landing, and fled to the woods, where they perished either from the disease or starvation. Scott was not able to reach the scene of action. Atkinson, by forced marches, came up with Black Hawk’s party on the 2nd of August, near the mouth of the Upper Iowa. The Indians were routed and dispersed, and Black Hawk and his two sons and several great warriors made prisoners. Nothing in the history of humanity is much sadder than the putting down and destroying the last remnants of these once powerful tribes. Driven out from their fertile lands, thousands literally died of starvation; and if, as in the case of the Sacs, they were headed by a chief of superior intellect, who could not patiently submit to be uprooted like a weed from the soil of his fathers, and who clung to it with a love as intense as that of the Swiss for his mountains, then fire and sword swept him and his followers from the land, and they were killed as traitors. God sees these things, and permits them; nevertheless they are great iniquities. Black Hawk and his sons were sent to Fort Jefferson, and put in irons; they were taken to Washington, and had an interview with President Jackson, when a treaty was concluded, and the captives relinquished all claim to their territory, and consented to remove west of the Mississippi. After this they were taken through several of the eastern cities, that they might see the power and greatness of the whites, and how hopeless it was to contend against them. Black Hawk ended his days on the Des Moines river, where his people had settled. He had a bark cabin, which he furnished, in imitation of the whites, with chairs, a table, a mirror, and mattresses. He was no longer the great warrior; in the summer he is said to have cultivated a few acres of land, on which he grew corn, melons, and other vegetables. His last speech was at Fort Madison, on the 4th of July, a festival to which he had been invited, and thus he spoke: “It has pleased the Great Spirit that I am here to-day. I have eaten with my white friends. The earth is our mother; we are now on it, with the Great Spirit above us. It is good. I hope we are all friends here. A few winters ago I was fighting against you. Perhaps I did wrong—but that is past; it is buried—let it be forgotten. Rock River was a beautiful country; I loved my towns, my corn-fields, and the home of my people. I fought for it. It is now yours; keep it as we did; it will produce you beautiful crops.”
Such was the spirit of the old, exiled Indian chief; he was a Christian in practice, though not in name.
As the last chief of a once great and powerful people, we must be allowed to say a few more words respecting Black Hawk, which we give from the pen of one who knew him personally. “A deep-seated melancholy,” says he, “was apparent in his countenance and conversation, and he spoke occasionally of his former greatness with an inexpressible sadness, representing himself as at one time master of the country north-east and south of us. In the autumn of 1838 he set out for the frontier, where payment was to be made to the tribe of a portion of their annuity. The weather was both hot and wet, and he appears to have imbibed on his journey the seeds of the disease which terminated his life. In October the commission was to meet the tribes at Rock Island, but Black Hawk was then too ill to accompany them. On the 3rd of October he died, after an illness of seven days. His only medical attendant was one of the tribe who knew something of vegetable antidotes. His wife, who was devotedly attached to him, mourned deeply for him during his illness. She seemed to have a presentiment of his approaching death, and said, ‘He is getting old—he must die; Monotah is calling him home!’
“After his death, he was dressed in the uniform presented to him at Washington, and placed upon a rude bier with bark laid across, on which he was carried by four of his braves to the place of interment, followed by his family and about fifty of the tribe, the chiefs being all absent. They seemed deeply affected and mourned in their usual way, shaking hands and muttering in gutteral tones prayers to Monotah for his safe passage to the land prepared for the reception of all Indians. The grave was six feet deep and of the usual length, situated upon a little eminence about fifty yards from his wigwam. The body was placed in the middle of the grave in a sitting posture, upon a seat constructed for that purpose. On his left, the cane given him by Henry Clay was placed upright, with his right hand resting upon it. Many of his old trophies, his favourite weapons and some Indian garments were placed in the grave. The whole was then covered with plank, and a mound of several feet in height thrown over, and the whole enclosed with pickets twelve feet in height. At the head of the grave was placed the American flag, and a post was raised at the foot, on which, in Indian characters was inscribed his age, which was about seventy-two.”
As an instance of the rapid growth of civilization in the wilderness of the West, we will give a few sentences from the graphic pen of Judge Hall, when speaking of this very region in the year of Black Hawk’s death. “The country,” says he, “over which Black Hawk, with a handful of followers, badly mounted and destitute of stores or munitions of war, roamed for hundreds of miles, driving off the scattered inhabitants, is now covered with flourishing settlements, with substantial houses and large farms—not with the cabins and clearings of border-men, but with the comfortable dwellings and the well-tilled fields of independent farmers. Organised counties and all the subordination of social life are there; and there are the noisy school-house, the decent church, the mill, the country store, the fat ox and the sleek plough-horse. The Yankee is there with his notions and his patent-rights, and the travelling agent with his subscription book; there are merchandise from India and from England, and in short all the luxuries of life. And all this within six years. Six years ago the Indian warrior ranged over that fertile region which is now covered with an industrious population, while the territories of Wisconsin and Iowa and vast settlements in Missouri have since grown up, beyond the regions which was then the frontier and the seat of war.”
Such was the state of the West in 1832. Now in twenty years from that time the white population has advanced still farther and farther westward, removing at every step the Indian frontier. Iowa, Missouri and Wisconsin have now taken their position as states of the Union, and religion and education are establishing true civilization in the former wilderness, and may atone to heaven for the wrongs done to the Indian on this very soil.
But we must now return to the events of our general history.
The tariff bill, which passed into operation at the close of the session of 1832, caused, as we have said, great excitement in the southern states. South Carolina was the head-quarters of the opposition; and the party adverse to the bill called themselves the State-rights party, afterwards “nullifiers,” because having in November held a convention at Columbia, they issued an ordinance in the name of the people, declaring that congress had exceeded its powers in laying on protective duties, and that all such acts should from that time be utterly null and void. And finally they declared, that should congress attempt by force to bring their act into operation, the people would not submit; and that any act of congress authorising the employment of a naval or military force against the state, should be null and void; and that in such case the people would hold themselves absolved from any political connexion with the other states, and would forthwith proceed to organise a separate government, and do all other acts and deeds which a sovereign and independent state has a right to do.
Further still; the legislature of South Carolina met on the 27th of November, when Governor Hamilton gave in his concurrence to the ordinance, and recommended that the authorities of the state and of the city of Charleston should request the withdrawal of the United States troops, which had been stationed there to guard against a slave insurrection; that the militia should be called out, and provision made for obtaining heavy ordnance and other munitions of war.
This novel doctrine, says Willson, of the right of a state to declare a law of congress unconstitutional and void, and to withdraw from the Union, was promptly met by a proclamation of the president, in which he seriously warned the ultra-advocates of “States-rights” of the consequences that must ensue if they persisted in their course of treason to the government. He declared that, as chief-magistrate of the Union, he could not, if he would, avoid the performance of his duty; that the laws must be executed, and that any opposition to their execution must be repelled if necessary by force.
This proclamation was extremely popular, and was supported even in South Carolina, where there existed a strong party called “Friends of the Union.” Party animosities were for the moment forgotten throughout the States, and all united in agreeing to support the president in asserting the supremacy of the laws. Nor did the president talk only; with his usual prompt decision he caused Castle Pinckney, a fortress which commands the inner harbour of Charleston, as well as the town, to be put in complete order of defence; strongly garrisoned Fort Moultrie, and ordered several ships of war to be stationed in the bay. Every one saw that he was in earnest, and even the most violent nullifiers shrunk back from a contest against the whole nation with a man like General Jackson at its head.
Fortunately for the peace of the nation, the cause of discord and discontent was in great measure removed by a compromise bill, introduced into congress by Henry Clay. This bill was for modifying the tariff, and ultimately reducing the duties to a proper standard. It was strongly opposed by the supporters of the manufacturing interests, but nevertheless, having passed both the House of Representatives and the Senate, received the president’s signature early in March, 1833. It was, however, accompanied by an act which provided for the collection of duties on imports, and was called the Enforcing Bill, which was strongly objected to as giving the president an almost unlimited power over commerce. On the 4th of March, 1833, General Jackson entered his second presidential term, Martin Van Buren, of New York, being elected vice-president. Very soon after the re-election of President Jackson, a great excitement was occasioned on account of the removal from the Bank of the United States of the government funds deposited there, and their transfer to certain state banks. The opponents of the administration censured this measure as an unauthorised and dangerous assumption of power by the executive; and the public confidence in the moneyed institutions of the country being shaken, the pecuniary distresses of 1836 and 1837 were charged upon the hostility of the president to the Bank of the United States; while, on the other hand, these very distresses were ascribed to the management of the bank, which the president declared to have become “the scourge of the country.”[80]
Again the pent-up and out-driven Indian tribes making, as it were, a dying effort to save themselves, rose into rebellion, and the story again is very sad. The Chickasaws and the Choctaws had, during the last few years, quietly emigrated west of the Mississippi, into the territory bordering on Arkansas, which had been allotted to them instead of their own lands, and as an inducement to remove voluntarily, the United States had paid the expenses of their journey, and supplied them with a year’s provisions. Other tribes there were, however, who were not so easily managed, and it is of their struggles to maintain a footing on their own lands that we have now to speak. The Cherokees were the most civilised of the Indian tribes; they had an established government, a national legislature, and written laws. Their rights had been protected during the administration of John Quincy Adams, against the claims of Georgia. Under the administration, however, of the unscrupulous and aggressive General Jackson, the legislature of Georgia, which acted very much in the spirit of the president, extended its laws over the Indian territory comprised within their boundaries, and among other severe enactments it was declared, that “no Indian nor the descendants of an Indian, residing within the Creek or Cherokee nation of Indians, should be deemed a competent witness or party to any suit, in any court where a white man is a defendant.” It was in vain that the Supreme Court of the United States protested against these acts as unconstitutional. Georgia persisted in its hard enactments, and President Jackson informed the alarmed and anxious Cherokees that “he had no power to oppose the sovereignty of any state over all who may be within its limits.” Their case was precisely as if a fly, caught in a spider’s web, had appealed for deliverance to another spider, when the advice would have been that of President Jackson to the Cherokees—“they must abide the issue, without any hope that he would interfere.”
They did abide the issue, until, worn out by oppressions and vexations, some of their chiefs were induced to sign a treaty of evacuation. In vain the Cherokees as a nation protested against it; lived quietly and inoffensively; availed themselves of the civilisation of the whites, and wished to profit by it; they were still the red men, the aborigines of the forest, and they must become once more dwellers in the wilderness. There was no help for them. Their general emigration was decided upon in 1835, but it was not effected until three years later.
The same year in which the removal of the Cherokees was decided, the Seminole Indians of Florida began to resist the settlement of the whites in their vicinity, the immediate cause of their hostility being again an attempt to remove them west of the Mississippi. In September, 1823, soon after the purchase of Florida by the United States, a treaty had been made with the Seminoles, by which they relinquished their claims to large tracts, reserving certain portions to themselves for residence. The terms of this treaty being disputed, a second was made at Payne’s Landing, in Florida, in 1832, when it was stipulated that the Seminoles should relinquish their reservation, and remove west of the Mississippi, a delegation of their chiefs being sent out at the expense of the United States to examine the country assigned to them, whither the Creeks were already gone; and, according to the treaty, if it were found that they, the Creeks, would live amicably with them, and that the country was agreeable to them, then the treaty should be binding. The report of the delegates was not satisfactory. The country which was assigned to them was of a stern character, unlike that of their native Florida; it produced no light-wood for fuel, which was easy to fell, and to which the Seminoles were accustomed. The savage wilderness of Nebraska did not allure them; and the Indians, they reported, were bad; they preferred to remain in Florida, and they accordingly maintained that the treaty was not binding. Macanopy, their king, opposed their removal, and Osceola, their most celebrated chief, said that he “wished to rest in the land of his fathers, and for his children to sleep by his side.”
But the wishes of Macanopy and Osceola were as nothing beside the will of President Jackson; and General Wiley Thompson was sent as the government agent to Florida, to arrange the removal of the Seminoles. Thompson reported that the Seminoles were unwilling to emigrate, and received for reply that they must go; that his military force should be increased, and that the annuities which the Seminoles received under the treaty of 1823 should not be paid until they consented to leave the country. The Seminoles took council together and promised to go the following spring; and Thomson, writing to the president, said, “I believe that the whole nation will come into this measure, but it is impossible not to feel a deep interest and much sympathy for this people.”
But when the spring came, and government measures began to be put in operation for their removal, the heart of the whole people was roused as one man, and they declared that they “could not leave their homes and the graves of their fathers.” This persistance in opposition was attributed to Osceola, whose bearing was proud and gloomy, and by order of General Thompson he was put in irons. Dissembling his wrath, Osceola obtained his liberty, and not only gave his consent to the removal of the whole nation, but so completely won the confidence of the government agent as to be entrusted with various commissions in different parts of the country, which he executed faithfully. In the meantime, however, he was concerting with the Indians a plan of deep revenge, which in the month of December began to take effect.
The remainder of this mournful history we will briefly relate from Marcius Willson. “At this time General Clinch was stationed at Fort Orange in Florida. Being supposed to be in danger from the Indians, and also in want of supplies, Major Dade was despatched from Fort Brooke, at the head of Tampa Bay, with upwards of 100 men, to his assistance. He had proceeded about half that distance, when he was suddenly attacked by the enemy, and he and all but four of his men were killed; and those four, horribly mangled, afterwards died of their wounds. At the time of Dade’s massacre, Osceola with a small band of warriors was prowling in the vicinity of Fort King. While General Thompson and a few friends were dining at a store only 250 yards from the fort, they were surprised by a sudden discharge of musketry, and five out of nine were killed. The body of General Thompson was found pierced with fifteen bullets. Osceola and his party rushed in, scalped the dead, and retreated before they could be fired upon by the garrison.
“Two days later, General Clinch engaged the Indians on the banks of the Withlacoochee, and in February of the following year, General Gaines, the commander of the north-western division, was attacked near the same place. In May, several of the Creek towns and tribes joined the Seminoles in the war. Murders and devastations were frequent; the Indians obtained possession of many of the southern mail-routes in Georgia and Alabama, attacked steamboats, destroyed stages, burned several towns, and compelled thousands of the whites, who had settled in their territory, to flee for their lives. A strong force, however, joined by many friendly Indians, being sent against them, and several of the hostile chiefs having being taken, the Creeks submitted; though such was their desperation, that many Indian mothers killed their children rather than that they should become prisoners to the pale-faces. During this summer great numbers were transported west of the Mississippi.
“In October, Governor Call took command of the forces in Florida, and with nearly 2,000 men marched into the interior, when several engagements took place.”
The time for the election of president being now come, Martin Van Buren was chosen, and Richard M. Johnson, of Kentucky, vice-president. The war in Florida, though it still raged, was for the time disregarded, owing to the monetary and mercantile distresses of the country, which reached their crises almost immediately after the accession of Van Buren. And yet so prosperous had the country been, only in the preceding June, that a large amount of surplus revenue had accumulated, which was given up to the people, and distributed in three instalments among the several states in proportion to their respective representations in congress. While this extraordinary prosperity lasted, there was a perfect frenzy of speculation; hundreds made immense fortunes, and tens of thousands were reduced to want. During the months of March and April of 1837, the failures in the city of New York alone amounted to nearly 100,000,000 dollars. The great extent of the business operations of the country, and their intimate connexion with each other, caused the evil to extend into all channels of trade. It was felt from the highest to the lowest. The third instalment of the surplus revenue, which we have already mentioned, having not yet been paid to the different states, was now applied to the necessities of government; but no means of relief were attempted for the people, it being contended that the case did not call for governmental interference, but a reformation in individual extravagance and a return to the old neglected ways of industry. A destructive fire in New York, which occurred at the close of 1835, and the loss by which was estimated at 17,000,000 dollars, added to the present distress.
Nevertheless growth, which is the principle of American life, went on. In September, 1835, Wisconsin was erected into a territory, and Arkansas into a state; and now, in the midst of the general distress, Michigan was admitted into the Union, making the twenty-sixth state; the original number of thirteen being doubled.
We must now resume and conclude our account of the Seminole war, which at this critical moment added to the expenses of the nation; while the climate of a country abounding in swamps and marshes, amid which the war was carried on, proved more fatal to the whites than even the Indians themselves. After several encounters early in the season, a number of chiefs came to the camp of General Jessup, and signed a treaty, by which hostilities were to cease, and the Seminoles engaged to remove beyond the Mississippi. But again the war broke out, and Osceola being suspected as the cause, was seized in the month of October, when, with several other chiefs and about seventy warriors, he arrived under the protection of a flag of truce at the American camp. This was the finishing stroke to the misfortunes of the Seminoles. It was a base action; but the treachery of Osceola was pleaded in its palliation. The Indian chief was now in the safe custody of the pale-faces, but the strength of the Seminoles was not yet broken. He was confined in Fort Moultrie, on Sullivan’s Island, opposite Charleston. Though a captive, he was not treated with unkindness. He was visited by the principal people of Charleston, and all was done for him which could render him comfortable, but his spirit was broken. It is related by one gentleman who visited him frequently, that the expression of his countenance was the most melancholy that could be conceived. He, however, is said never to have uttered any lamentation, although he often spoke with bitterness of the manner in which he had been taken prisoner, and of the injustice which had been done to his people. His person was handsome, his voice melodious, and his eyes filled with a gloomy fire.
Although his bearing and his fate awoke, as we have said, a universal interest for him, and Mr. Edin in particular, who felt an enthusiasm for the handsome and unhappy Seminole chief, brought him presents, he was indifferent to all; he grew more and more silent, and from the moment when he was put in prison his health declined, though he did not appear to be ill. He ate very little and refused all medicine. The captive eagle could not live when deprived of the free life and air of his forest.[81]
Osceola was a captive, but his people were not quelled. They, however, after they lost his leadership, strove not so much to maintain a hold on their country as to fight out the quarrel with their enemies. Accordingly, for three years more the war went on. In 1839, General Macomb, who had assumed the chief command of the army, induced a number of chiefs in the southern part of the peninsula again to sign a treaty of peace. By this treaty they were permitted to remain in the country until they could be assured of the prosperity of their friends, who had already emigrated. Again the treaty was broken, and in June of that year the territorial government offered 200 dollars for every Indian, dead or alive; and thus a war of extermination having begun, was continued till the year 1842.
In 1837, a patent was granted to S. F. B. Morse, for the Electric Telegraph.
The census of 1840 gave the population of the United States as 17,068,666.
The Democratic or Whig party succeeded, in the following election, in returning William Henry Harrison, “the hero of the Thames and the Tippacanoe,” as president, in opposition to Van Buren, and John Tyler, of Virginia, as vice-president. On March 4th, 1841, Harrison was inaugurated, and exactly one month afterwards, his health being feeble, he expired; when the vice-president, according to the Constitution, became president.
Monetary affairs were at this time engrossing public attention, and so great were the present pecuniary difficulties, involving many mercantile houses in ruin, that congress adopted the extraordinary expedient of passing a bankrupt law, which operated throughout all the states. And not only did this law become available for individuals, but was taken advantage of by various states themselves, and a great obloquy for the time was cast on the nation—this was called repudiation. With returning prosperity, however, most of the states resumed payment, and little, if any state repudiation of debt has remained.
In 1842, a long existing dispute between the United States and England, regarding the north-eastern boundary, was adjusted. Lord Ashburton was sent from England as a special envoy, and Daniel Webster and he arranged the terms of a treaty by which this important question of north-eastern boundary, which had even threatened war, was amicably and finally settled.
In 1844, serious disturbances occurred in the state of New York, called the Anti-Rent Disturbances, of which a few words must be permitted us, and which we will give principally from Mrs. Willard.
“In the early history of the state, we have seen, that under the Dutch government certain settlers received patents of considerable portions of land, that of Van Renssalaer being the most extensive, comprehending the greater part of Albany and Renssalaer counties. These lands were divided into farms, containing from one hundred to one hundred and sixty acres, and leased in perpetuity on the following conditions. The tenant must each year pay to the landlord or ‘patron,’ a quantity of wheat, from twenty-two-and-a-half bushels to ten, with four fat fowls, and a day’s service with wagon and horses. If the tenant sold his lease, the landlord was entitled to one-quarter of the purchase money. The landlord was also entitled to certain privileges on all water power, and a right to all mines. In process of time the tenants began to consider these legal conditions as anti-republican, as a relic of feudal tyranny. Stephen Van Renssalaer, who came into possession of his patent in 1780, had in the kindness of his nature omitted to exact his legal right until 200,000 dollars of back rent was owing, which, on his death in 1840, was found appropriated by will. The enforcement of these long-neglected demands gave rise to much dissatisfaction, and finally they were forcibly resisted, when the States’ government called out the military, but still to no purpose.
“In the summer of 1844, the anti-rent disturbances broke out with great violence in the eastern towns of Renssalaer, and in the Livingston Manor in Columbia County. The anti-renters formed themselves into associations to resist the law, and armed and trained bands, disguised as Indians, scoured the country, compelling every person whom they met to give in their allegiance to this revolt, by saying ‘Down with the Rent!’ Not contented with this, they proceeded to violence, and tarring and feathering, and other outrages of the most fearful kind took place. Sometimes a thousand of these pretended Indians, more fearful even than the real ones, assembled in a body. Similar disturbances occurred at the same time in Delaware, where Steele, the deputy sheriff, was murdered in the execution of his official duties.
“In 1846, Silas Wright was chosen governor of the state, and by his wisdom and firmness the public order was restored. On the 27th of August, he proclaimed the county of Delaware in a state of insurrection; resolute men were made sheriffs, military aid was given, and the leading anti-renters taken and brought to trial. The murderers of Steele were condemned to death, but their punishment commuted to perpetual imprisonment.”
March 3rd, 1845, the two former territories of Iowa and Florida were admitted as states into the Union.