The Story of American History for Elementary Schools

It was a fierce struggle. English and American blood flowed like water before it was ended. The Indians never fought in open field, but always after their own fashion. They trusted to sudden attacks, especially at night, and to rapid raids, doing their savage work suddenly and retreating swiftly into the forest.

Lonely families and small settlements suffered most. Like lightning out of the clear sky came the horror of an Indian night attack. The war-whoop waked the midnight sleepers and the glare of burning cabins lighted up the darkness.

The massacre of defenseless women and children crimsoned the earth in scores of settlements during these cruel wars.

108. The Indian Attack on Deerfield in the Massachusetts Colony.– One bitter cold night in February, 1704, the French and Indians attacked the town of Deerfield in the western part of Massachusetts. For this purpose they had walked all the way from Canada on snowshoes. The people had been warned of their danger, but the watchmen fell asleep, and the villagers were awakened by the war-whoop of their savage foes. About fifty men, women, and children were killed, and nearly a hundred half-clad captives were marched off through the deep snows. Those who could not keep up were killed with the tomahawk.

The minister of the village, Rev. John Williams, his wife and six children, were among those captured and carried to Canada. The wife lagged behind and was killed. Strange to say, however, the minister and all his children, though they suffered all manner of hardships, and were sold as captives, after a time reached home in safety. The good man lived to write an account of his adventures.

One little girl seven years old was treated kindly by her captors and was brought up as one of their tribe. She married an Indian chief and long afterwards visited her people in Deerfield. She wore the Indian dress and had come to love the wild life. Her former friends and neighbors begged her to stay with them, but "she returned to the fires of her own wigwam, and to the love of her Mohawk children."

109. Hannah Dustin's Famous Adventure with the Indians.– The story of Hannah Dustin, of Haverhill, Mass., has often been told. One day in 1697 the Indians attacked the village. Mr. Dustin saved all his family except his wife and her nurse, who were captured. They marched these women and an English boy many long days to their camp on an island far up the Merrimac River. As Mrs. Dustin's babe prevented her keeping up well on the journey, an Indian cruelly killed it.

The boy, who understood the Indian language, heard the savages tell of the horrible tortures they intended to inflict upon their captives. When Mrs. Dustin heard of this she laid her plans. She made the lad slyly learn from the Indians how to swing a tomahawk and where to strike.

One night, when the savages lay around the camp-fire sound asleep, the three captives arose softly, each killed with one blow the Indian nearest, then three more, and so on till ten were finished. One young boy and one squaw escaped. It was an awful thing for Mrs. Dustin to do, but the memory of her murdered child made her brave and strong. They seized an Indian canoe, and the three paddled swiftly down the river, and half dead with hunger and fatigue reached home. Their friends could hardly believe their eyes. The heroic woman brought home ten Indian scalps as proof of what she had done.

110. How the Colonial Boys learned to shoot.– We can now well understand that the settlement of a new country amid hostile Indians demanded from our colonial fathers eternal vigilance, and developed in them remarkable skill with firearms.

Even the colonial boy, we are told, as soon as he was big enough to level a musket, was given powder and ball to shoot squirrels. After a little practice he was required to bring in as many squirrels as he was given charges for the gun, under penalty of a severe lecture, or even of having his "jacket tanned"!

At the age of twelve the boy became a block-house soldier, with a loophole assigned him from which to shoot when the settlement was attacked by the Indians.

Growing older, he became a hunter of deer, bears, and other wild animals, and had at any moment, day or night, to be in readiness to pit his life against those of hostile Indians.

111. Capture of Louisburg.– During the third French and Indian war, which began when George Washington was a boy of fourteen and which lasted four years, the New England colonists determined to strike a hard blow against France. They fitted out an army of about four thousand fishermen and farmers, put their expedition under the command of General William Pepperell, and sailed from Boston to capture Louisburg on the island of Cape Breton.

With its walls of masonry thirty feet high this was the strongest fortress on the continent except Quebec, and was known as the "Gibraltar of America." It commanded the entrance to the Gulf and the mouth of the St. Lawrence. With the aid of a British fleet the colonists laid siege to the great fortress.

After a lively contest of about six weeks, Louisburg was taken (1745). The colonial army returned to Boston and was received with shouts of joy. But at the close of the war Louisburg was restored to the French. Great was the wrath of the colonists, who spoke of the day of surrender as "a black day, to be forever blotted out of New England calendars."

112. The Struggle beyond the Alleghanies.– For a long time the Alleghany Mountains served as a natural boundary between the English settlements in the East and the French trading-posts and forts in the West.

Meanwhile the English settlers were steadily pushing westward over the mountains and beginning to trade with the Indians on the other side. The French merchants often met their hated rivals in the woods and quarreled with them. From the first, England claimed all this country as her own, and looked upon the building of French forts as an invasion of her territory. The French stirred up the Indians to drive the English away, and would not even allow them to make so much as a survey of land in the rich Ohio valley.

113. Young George Washington selected for an Arduous Undertaking.– This action of the French aroused the wrath of the prosperous Virginia colony and of its energetic governor. He decided to send a letter to the French commander warning him to leave the country. Governor Dinwiddie selected for this task a land surveyor only twenty-one years of age. His name was George Washington. He was even then known for his courage, his sound judgment, and his knowledge of the Indians.

It was a journey of more than a thousand miles there and back, through an unbroken wilderness. With seven companions young Washington set out on his perilous trip in the fall of 1753. They climbed mountains, swam streams, and threaded their way through mountain ravines, following Indian trails which no white man had ever seen before.

After many hardships they reached the French posts. The French commander read the letter that Washington had brought from the governor of Virginia. He replied that he was there by command of his superior officers, and that he meant to drive every Englishman out of the Ohio valley! There was nothing for Washington to do but to start for home. Winter had now set in and it was soon severely cold. The homeward journey became a serious matter. The pack-horses gave out. The brave young leader and his guide pressed ahead on foot. Often as they lay down at night their wet clothing froze fast upon them. They secured an Indian as a guide, but he proved a scamp. One evening at dusk he raised his gun and fired at Washington, but missed his aim. The guide seized the savage, flung him to the ground, and would have killed him, but Washington spared his life. After many hardships and dangers the two men reached home in safety.

114. The Beginning of the Final Struggle.– The final struggle was now impending between England and France to determine which should control America. The contest began in earnest in Virginia. Washington had taken advantage of his perilous errand to the French commander to select a place for an English fort. It was at the point where the Alleghany and Monongahela rivers unite to form the Ohio. This is the spot where the city of Pittsburgh now stands. It was the main entrance to the valley of the Ohio. For many years it was called the "Gateway of the West." The English built a fort on this spot, but the French easily captured it and held it under the name of Fort Du Quesne.

115. Braddock's Ill-Fated Expedition.– Affairs now became so serious that General Braddock was sent out from England with two regiments of regulars. Early in the year 1755 he began his march through the Virginia forests to recapture the French stronghold. He selected Washington as a member of his staff. "I want you," said the British general, "to take your Virginia riflemen and go with me and my veterans to drive the French from Ohio." Washington consented. He joined Braddock's army with three companies of Virginia riflemen.

The English general and his regulars were brave, but they knew nothing about fighting Indians. Never did an army seem better prepared. They felt sure of victory. Soon they plunged into the forest. There were no roads there. After a hard march of four weeks they came within a few miles of the French fort. Washington warned the proud British general of his peril. "The Indians," said he, "may attack us in yonder deep pass. Let me go ahead with my riflemen and skirmish for the savages."

Braddock was an old soldier, and he thought he knew more than his young staff-officer who had learned from experience how to fight Indians. The general laughed at the well-meant advice. Next day, as they were marching through a deep ravine, suddenly came the yells of savages and the crack of rifles. The British veterans were eager to fight, but they could see no foe. The men were shot down like sheep.

The young Virginian and his riflemen leaped behind trees and rocks and fought the Indians in their own way. All was confusion. Braddock acted bravely. He had five horses killed under him. He did all that a valiant man in such a situation could do; but it was in vain.

116. Washington saves Braddock's Army from Destruction.– Washington and his Virginia rangers saved Braddock's army from destruction. The French and the Indians knew well the tall figure of Washington, who was in the thickest of the fight, and they kept firing at him. Two horses were shot under him. Four bullets passed through his clothing, but he did not receive a scratch.

Many years afterwards an old Indian chief came to see Washington, and told him that he had fired from ambush on the dreadful day of Braddock's defeat, and both he and his young warriors had often aimed at him as he rode about delivering the general's orders; but as they could not hit him, they had concluded that he was under the protection of the Great Spirit and could not be slain in battle.

Braddock was at last hit. He sank to the ground mortally wounded. "What is to be done now?" he faintly asked. "We must retreat," replied Washington.

A retreat was ordered, and Washington and his riflemen defended the rear so well that what was left of the routed army at last reached a place of safety. More than seven hundred of them had fallen, including Braddock himself and three-fourths of his officers. What a penalty the proud British general paid for refusing to take good advice!

117. The Virginians fight desperately for their Homes.– The French were now left in full possession of all the region west of the Alleghanies. The Indians took advantage of the situation to make fresh attacks upon the Virginia colonists.

The Virginians fought with desperation for their homes. Washington was put in command of the forces. He wrote that "the supplicating tears of the women and the moving petitions of the men melted him into deadly sorrow." Three years after the Braddock calamity, Washington again marched his men through the woods against Fort Du Quesne and recaptured it.

The capture of this stronghold was an important event to the colonists, for a highway which was never afterwards closed was then opened to the great West. The name of the fort was changed to Pittsburgh, in honor of England's illustrious prime minister, William Pitt, who had planned the expedition.

It was just this experience in hard fighting against the French and Indians that providentially aided in fitting Washington to win success as commander-in-chief of the American forces in the fast approaching war of the Revolution.

118. Quebec, the carefully guarded Stronghold.– We must remember that there had been fighting for nearly two years in America before England really declared war against France in 1756. During this time the French had held the mastery, and the English had met with sad reverses. A new leader had now come into power in England, the great statesman, William Pitt.

The influence of this remarkable man changed the course of affairs as if by magic. He fully understood America's greatest needs. From this time the English were everywhere successful. Important forts were taken from the French, such as Niagara, Ticonderoga, and Crown Point.

There was only one great stronghold left to the French. This was Quebec on the St. Lawrence. It was not only one of the strongest fortresses in the world, but it was commanded by the Marquis de Montcalm, one of the ablest generals of his time.

119. How Quebec was taken.– A brave young officer, General Wolfe, was sent out from England to command the attack on Quebec. The outlook was enough to discourage any one, however experienced and skillful. The fort itself is on a high point of land overlooking the city. The English troops were on the river-bank, hundreds of feet below.

Every movement of the English was reported at once to the French. Wolfe was at first repulsed at every point. One day, as he was reconnoitering, he discovered a steep and narrow path which led up the precipitous bluff to a level spot known as the Plains of Abraham. He made up his mind to climb it with his men.

Soon afterwards the English troops were quietly rowed down the river, under the cover of darkness, to a little bay since known as Wolfe's Cove. As the young English general glided along in his boat, he quoted extracts from Gray's "Elegy in a Country Churchyard." As he repeated the stanza beginning, "The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power," he said that he would rather have written that poem than take Quebec. The little pathway was reached. Wolfe leaped first on shore. Under his leadership the English soldiers climbed the steep.

At sunrise on the morning of Sept. 13, 1759, the British army, five thousand strong, stood on the Plains of Abraham. Great was the amazement of the French general, for he thought it impossible for any one to scale the cliffs. Montcalm chose to come out of the fortress and fight the English on the open ground. This was a fatal mistake, for after a fierce struggle the French were defeated.

In the hour of victory Wolfe was fatally wounded. While dying he heard the cry, "They run! they run!" Rousing himself he asked, "Who run?" Upon being told it was the French he exclaimed: "Now God be praised; I will die in peace!" Montcalm was also fatally wounded. When told he could not live, the gallant Frenchman cried out, "So much the better; I shall not live to see the surrender of Quebec!"

The French retired within their fortifications, but in a few days Quebec was surrendered into the hands of the English. The fate of Canada was decided by the fall of this city.

120. The End of the War and the Result.– Although the victory at Quebec practically ended the French and Indian War, it was not until 1763 that peace was declared. By the treaty France gave up to England the whole of Canada, together with all the territory between the Alleghanies and the Mississippi, except the city of New Orleans. She retained a few barren islands near Newfoundland as a shelter for her fishermen. The vast region spreading westward from the Mississippi towards the Pacific, under the name Louisiana, together with the city of New Orleans, was made over to Spain.

CHAPTER IX.

EVERYDAY LIFE IN COLONIAL TIMES

121. Severe and Curious Punishments.– In the early colonial times the laws were for the most part rigid and the punishments severe. Criminals were occasionally branded with a hot iron. If a man shot a fowl on Sunday, he was often publicly whipped. Small offenses were punished in a way which would not be tolerated in our times. A woman who had been complained of as a scold was placed in front of her house with a stick tied in her mouth. Sometimes a common scold was fastened to what was known as a "ducking stool" at one end of a seesaw plank, and ducked in a pond or river!

Some crimes were punished by making the offender stand up on a stool in some public place, while fastened to his breast was a large placard on which his crime was printed in coarse letters, as LIAR or THIEF. There were in some colonies public whipping-posts for the special benefit of hardened offenders. In other cases the stocks were used, the culprit being seated on a bench in a public place, his feet projecting through holes in a plank; or the pillory, where he had to stand up with his neck and wrists painfully confined in a similar way. These last two modes of punishment were a source of no small amusement to the throng that gathered around, whose jeers and scorn must have been hard to bear. Once a couple of men in Plymouth county had a brisk little quarrel, and they were punished by being bound together for twenty-four hours, head to head and foot to foot.

122. How Sunday was kept.– Sunday was rigidly observed in New England. In olden times, and almost to our own day, the Lord's Day was made to begin at sunset on Saturday evening. Sunday schools were not then known. But every person was compelled to attend religious service or be punished. If a man stayed away from church for a month without a good excuse, he might be put in the stocks or into a wooden cage. No word could be spoken with impunity against the church or the rulers. He who used his tongue too freely was placed in the pillory or stocks, or was fined, and in some extreme cases he lost his ears.

The minister was the great man of the village. He was looked up to and consulted about nearly everything, and he generally decided what punishment should be inflicted on evil-doers. In earliest times the people were called to meeting by drumbeat or by the blowing of a horn. The log meeting-house had oiled paper windows, or, if of glass, small diamond-shaped panes set in leaden frames made in England.

Inside there was no fire and there were no cushions. Families did not sit together as now; but old men, young men, and women all sat by themselves. Boys occupied the pulpit steps or the gallery. On a bench just below the preacher sat the row of deacons, facing the congregation. If aged, they wore bright-colored flannel caps to protect their heads from numerous drafts. It was the business of the deacons to "line off" the Psalms as the people sang them. Books being very scarce, most of the congregation did not have any: accordingly the deacon would read aloud two lines, and when these were sung, read the next two, and so on. Every one sang. There was no choir, no organ, no instrumental music of any kind, and no hymns such as we have now. They sang the Psalms, which were arranged in metre for convenience in singing.

123. The Discomforts of attending Church in Colonial Days.– As the meeting-house was bitter cold in midwinter, women often carried foot-stoves, small sheet-iron boxes containing a few hot coals, which were a source of great comfort. The sermons were tedious, lasting two hours or even more; for those patient people valued a sermon very much according to its length. On the pulpit stood an hour-glass, which a deacon would reverse when the sands of the hour had fallen through.

Since the seats were hard, and the sermons long, and the men and women had worked early and late through the week, it was no wonder that some of the hearers were sleepy. It was, however, a serious offense to sleep in meeting. The watchful tithing-man, as he was called, was always on the lookout for drowsy people. It was his duty to see that the Lord's Day was respected by every person. He was armed with a long rod, one end tipped with a hare's foot and the other with a hare's tail. If the slumberer was a woman, he used to touch, possibly to tickle, her face with the soft fur. But if a youngster nodded, his head got a sharp rap from the rabbit's foot.

People in those days had to be thrifty. To save wear and tear, boys and girls walked barefoot to church in summer, with their shoes and stockings under their arms. They put them on as they entered the meeting-house, taking them off again as they started for home.

124. The Food in Olden Times; what it was, and how it was served.– In old colonial times our wheat bread was comparatively unknown. Loaves were made of mixed Indian meal and rye, not unlike the brown bread of our time. Baked pumpkin with milk was a favorite dish. Bean porridge was always a common article of food, and in some parts of the country it is still popular. It was made by boiling beans with the liquor in which corned beef had been cooked. It was very convenient for wood-choppers in winter to carry a frozen piece of porridge in their pockets and thaw it out for dinner in the woods. The longer it was kept, the better it tasted. Hence the common rhyme, "Bean porridge hot, bean porridge cold; bean porridge in the pot; nine days old."

In well-to-do families the cupboard or dresser shone with well-scoured pewter plates, platters, and porringers. Square wooden plates were often used; but with some poorer families there was one common dish used, from which the whole family helped themselves with their fingers.

Instead of forks, which were not known, they had thick and clumsy pewter spoons. These were easily broken, and they often had to be melted up and run over again into moulds by men who traveled from house to house for this purpose. In fact shoemakers, tailors, dressmakers, butchers, and other highly useful artisans traveled about from one family to another in pursuit of work.

125. Schools in Olden Times; the Schoolmaster; Schoolhouses and how they were furnished.– In most of the colonies the settlers were hardly located in their new homes before they began to provide schools for their children. In 1635 the town of Boston "voted to entreat brother Philemon Pormont to become schoolmaster," and, in 1647, the law was passed which is the foundation of the splendid educational system of Massachusetts.

Only six years after Boston was founded, the sum of two thousand dollars was set apart to found "a seminary at Cambridge," which has now become Harvard University. For years afterwards, every family gave annually one peck of corn, or one shilling in money, to support the young college.

Besides the usual branches, the early schools were required to teach religion and morals and the laws. They taught little enough of what we call school studies.

The schoolhouses were rough and crude. They usually had but one room. Within the room, the door and the big fireplace were on one side, while against the other three walls was a long, rough shelf, in front of which was a seat made of a split log with legs driven beneath. The pupils faced the wall with their backs to the teacher. In front was another lower bench filled by the younger pupils. The teacher sat near the middle of the room, and there the classes stood to recite. The sessions were long, seven or eight hours a day. The boys had to furnish the firewood, and if any unlucky fellow failed to bring in his share, he had to sit in a cold corner for that day. When the fire was brisk, the scholars were almost roasted on one side and nearly frozen on the other.

The teachers were often incompetent, either broken-down men or needy widows. The children brought each a few pennies a week for tuition. There were not many text-books, and the supplies were very scanty. The scholars often learned to write and "cast accounts" on pieces of white birchbark.