Black Revolutionary War Soldiers Pay

See the below pay receipt documents from the WallBuilders library. These documents, from 1778, 1780, and 1782, are for three black soldiers who fought during the Revolutionary War.


black-revolutionary-war-soldiers-pay-1
1778 Pay Receipt for Pomp Kearns, a member of the Rehobath militia.

black-revolutionary-war-soldiers-pay-2
1780 Pay Receipt for Cuff Conomy, a member of the “Connecticut Line.”

black-revolutionary-war-soldiers-pay-3
1782 Pay Receipt for Nero Cross, a member of the “Connecticut Line.”

Lew Wallace

Here is a handwritten document by Gen. Lewis Wallace, Union General in the Civil War, Governor of New Mexico and U.S. minister to the Ottoman Empire. It consists of a portion of his novel, Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ.


lew-wallace-1

     The people arose, and leaped upon the benches, and shouted and screamed.  Those who looked that way caught glimpses of Messala, now under the trampling of the fours, now under the abandoned cars.  He was still; they though him dead; but far the greater number followed Ben-Hur in his career.  They had not seen the cunning touch of the reins by which, turning a little to the left, he caught Messala’s wheel with the iron-shod point of his axle, and crushed it; but they had seen the transformation of the man, and themselves felt the heat and glow of his spirit, the heroic resolution, the maddening energy of action with which, by look, word, and gesture, he so suddenly inspired his Arabs.  And such running!  It was rather the long leaping of lions in harness; but for the lumbering chariot, it seemed the four were flying.  When the Byzantine and Corinthian were half-way down the course, Ben-Hur turned the first goal.
And the race was Won!

Lew. Wallace.

Sermon – Memorial Day

John W. Sayers served as the chaplain for Camp Geary at Gettysburg in 1883 and delivered sermons as the Pennsylvania “post” chaplain of the Grand Army of the Republic (an organization of Union veterans) from 1894-1899. He also was the pastor of the Trinity Methodist Episcopal Church in Chester, PA from 1902-1910. The following is one of his many Memorial Day sermons, published in the book The More Excellent Sacrifice: Memorial Day Sermons by John W. Sayers (Cincinnati: Jennings & Graham, 1905).


Honorable Scars.

“I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus.” – Galatians VI, 17.

This is the language of a wholly consecrated man – one who had devoted his life to the service of his Master and who glorified in the evidences that he had suffered for his Master’s sake. Forms and ceremonies, outward professions, and meaningless rites were no part of the apostle’s religion. His Master had established a religious creed broad enough for all, capable of universal application. It was simple; it was effective. It commended itself to enlightened men and was fully adapted to human needs. Christ summed it up in a few words, “Thou shall love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thyself.” To this Master, Paul had bound himself; and to His religion he had consecrated his life. It needed no outward demonstration to convince the Master of the fidelity of His servant. The figure in the text doubtless refers to the ancient custom of branding slaves, not only that their subjection might be recognized by the multitude but that their ownership might be proved by a glance at the stigmata or mark of servitude that had been pricked or burned upon the body.

Slavery always meant subjection but did not always indicate degradation. Under the ancient system, prisoners of war were sold into slavery. Many of them were of refined, educated, and high born families. Aesop, whose fables have for ages charmed and instructed the race, was a slave. Epictetus, whose pure system of practical morality so largely influenced the philosophy of his time, was a slave. And others who have rendered great service to the world were once bondsmen to masters who had acquired ownership through the exigencies [demands] of war. Paul was not a slave in any sense of that word. He was a servant, it is true, but his servitude consisted of spiritual subjection to the will of the living God. By natural endowment he was one of nature’s noblemen: by birth a Jew, by adoption a Roman citizen, by religious faith a Pharisee. Tarsus, his native city, was celebrated for its learning and it was probably here that he became versed in Greek literature and imbued with the faith of the Pharisees. The Jews were largely divided into two principal religious sects, the Sadducees and the Pharisees, differing widely in their doctrines. The Sadducees followed a negative and speculative faith. They accepted the books of Moses but denied the traditions; they believed in God but denied the resurrection of the body and the existence of a future state. They believed in loving obedience to God but taught that man had been endowed with absolute control over his own actions. They were a sect of religious aristocrats, gathering around their altars the wealthy, the indolent, and the easygoing timeservers of the Hebrew faith.

The Pharisees, upon the other hand, were spiritual aristocrats, arrogating to themselves the only true worship. They were remarkable for their zealous support of the traditions of the elders. They believed in the resurrection of the dead, in spirits and angels, and in a future state of rewards and punishments. They called to their communion the more humble classes and through the adaptation of their faith to the common thought, they easily led the popular belief. Politically they were intensely patriotic, respecting authority, upholding the law, and loyally believing in Jewish infallibility. The foundation of their religion (as well as their national creed) was derived from the words of the Talmud [a commentary by leading Rabbis on Jewish law, ethics, customs and history], “The good Pharisee is he who obeys the law because he loves the Lord.” God was with them, as with us – the “All Father.” Between them and their brethren of the faith, the great equity of living was, “Do unto others as you would be done by.” They were essentially the representatives of all that was good in the Hebrew faith. Christ called them hypocrites [Matthew 15:7, Matthew 22:18, Matthew 23:13] not because of what they believed but because their practices were so greatly at variance with their teachings. They were acknowledged interpreters of the law, and though not forming a separate political party, were among the most powerful civil leaders of their times.

It was to this latter sect that Paul belonged. He styled himself, “a Pharisee, son of a Pharisee” [Acts 23:6]. Paul studied law at Jerusalem, under the preceptorship of Gamaliel, a learned jurist and eminent Jewish rabbi. From the High Priest he obtained a commission, and thus armed with an acquaintance with the law and with authority from the civil powers, he went forth to detect and punish the disciples of the new faith.

The importance of his mission, his prominence as a rising man, the authority with which he was clothed, made him widely known and feared throughout the land. In all this, God was preparing him for his great mission to the Gentile world and was laying, through him, the foundation for a faith that for eighteen centuries was to march triumphantly to the conquest of men’s hearts – a faith that should grow stronger through fiery opposition, appeal more effectively to men’s lives through its wounds and scars, and eventually carry its triumphant banner to the uttermost parts of the earth, for

“Jesus shall reign where’er the sun Does his successive journeys run.”

[Quoting from Isaac Watts’ famous hymn “Jesus Shall Reign,” published in The Psalms of David (1719).]

Paul unconsciously received his first lesson upon the living and surviving power of honorable wounds – typical, indeed, of the marks which were to speak from his own body – when the clothes of Stephen were laid at his feet while he witnessed the cruel mob with stones inflict the death wounds – wounds which to the present hour throw a halo around all martyrdom for the truth’s sake. Paul could not see behind the shadow of the future, but God was there “keeping watch above His own” [quoting from James Russell Lowell’s The Present Crisis (1844)] Stephen’s life was in His keeping, and God was holding it for the instruction of future generations. “He being dead, yet speaketh” [Hebrews 11:4]. Honorable wounds – glorious scars – indelible marks which tell the story of devotion and heroism as no written history can tell it. Surrounded by danger and persecution, facing an excited and threatening multitude, defiant before the maddened onslaught of hatred and wickedness, the heroic disciple raised the standard of eternal truth and stood ready to die for the Master’s sake and sealed that devotion with his blood – with every opening wound speaking eloquently for the future triumphs of the Gospel, with his life blood gushing in crimson streams which tinged the cloudlets of the closing day with their reflected brightness, giving earnest for a brighter dawning on the morrow, he passed to his reward, crying with his expiring breath, “Lord, lay not this sin to their charge” [Acts 7:60].

Centuries have come and gone, but those marks of the Lord Jesus are not forgotten, and many a victim of persecution has passed through the fire, gathering strength and courage from the wounds and blood of the first martyr. The standard, which was not lowered with the fall of its bearer, still floats aloft with millions of brave hands ever ready to hold it up.

I am speaking to men today who can appreciate this beautiful figure – men who have followed their country’s flag upon the march and who, in the midst of privation and discouragement, have been cheered and animated by its emblematic beauty as it waved its graceful folds under the skies about the camp ground – men who have followed that banner into the battlefield and have rallied round it at many a point in the midst of the fight where Death was swinging his scythe with awful carnage, and who have defiantly flaunted it in the enemy’s face, turning back the impetuous charge and carrying signal defeat into their overconfident ranks. Many an armless sleeve – many a missing leg – many a sightless eye – many a crutch – and many a scar attest your love for that old flag and your devotion to your country’s cause. You are here today upon this peaceful camping ground because you were here when the tumult of war wakened the echoes and shook the earth in that terrible strife [Sayers is here referring to the Civil War and is speaking to veterans of that conflict] which laid low the sleeping thousands in these peaceful graves: because you were upon other battlefields which drove back the tide of rebellion against a righteous government – because you stood upon the blue field of constitutional fidelity, under the brightest stars of heaven’s glorious promise of liberty, in defense of the emblematic stripes of Union, against inauspicious stars of evil omen and symbolic bars of human bondage – because through your loyalty, that liberty which was once proclaimed throughout all the land still survived.

From brave and loyal men whose bodies bear such honorable scars, I am sure that it is not too much to ask that you rally round the banner of the cross of Christ as loyally as you have rallied around the glorious banner of you country. During the war, the state military agent at Nashville, passing by the Post Hospital, stopped to hear a voice from within singing the familiar words,

“Rally round the flag, boys.”

[From George F. Root’s Battle Cry of Freedom (1862).]

The agent remarked to a nurse standing in the doorway, “That patient is quite merry. He must be recovering.” “You are mistaken, sir,” was the reply, “he is dying. I am his nurse and the scene so affected me that I was obliged to leave the room.” Stepping into the ward, he found the singer just struggling with death. As his voice grew more feeble, he poured forth from his patriotic soul the words that had so often cheered him on the march and in the fight, “rally once again” and, as he sank back into his death slumber, his last words, which came incoherently were, “The flag, boys.” As he passed with his colors into the ranks upon the other side of the river, a score of voices from his sick and wounded comrades joined in that grand old hymn,

“Am I a soldier of the cross?”

[Quoting from Isaac Watts’ famous hymn “Am I a Soldier of the Cross?” (1721).]

The harmony of the singing was mingled with sympathetic sobs and tears from a hundred bystanders who never forgot the loyal singer or his wounds. Over that death scene, loyalty to the Union was again and again pledged and strengthened. Paul was loyal to his religion, as, in his interpretation, it became to him the will of his Master. His conversion was unexpected by him and was as remarkable as it was sudden. Convinced of the miraculous power which laid him prostrate upon the earth, and realizing that God had spoken in the voice that came to him, he once inquired the Divine will and turned obediently to do as God had directed. Henceforth worldly honor was to be cast behind him. His learning, his religious zeal, his natural force of character, his great genius, were all passports for him to the highest social and political positions among his countrymen. His birth and citizenship, his profession as a lawyer, entitled him to privileges with which but few of his people were favored. Now the world had suddenly changed to him – another field, in which the harvest was plenteous but the laborers few [Matthew 9:37, Luke 10:2], a mission of much work but of little worldly profit. In place of honor, he was to find contempt. Instead of reward, he was to receive persecution and stripes. In lieu of a master, he was to be a servant. In place of being an influential lawyer, he was to be the advocate of an unpopular cause. His life was to be of little value to himself, but it was to be of immense importance to others. His servitude was not of dishonor. The marks of that servitude – the scars of his scourging, the wounds of his maltreatment – were to become a record from which the world was to compile the most remarkable of all its cherished histories, a record from which was to be taught the great object lesson of the centuries through which men were to be lifted nearer to God. Henceforth, faith was to have a deeper significance. Fidelity and loyalty were to receive a higher meaning. The foundation principles of human justice, “Do unto others as you would have them do to you” [Matthew 7:12], was to have a Divine rather than an human interpretation. It was to be equitable; it was to be reciprocal; and it was to be fraternal and Godlike.

The path of duty once clearly opened before him, Paul was never to turn back. No matter what barrier were raised against him by his personal enemies or the foes of his cause, he was to be steadfast and immovable. He had given himself to Christ without reserve and his powers were consecrated to the cross of the Redeemer. The language of the text is that of a glorious retrospect of one who gloried in the honorable marks of an important and successful campaign – one who had fought a good fight and for whom the reward was already prepared. Paul, from the experience of his former antipathies, had doubtless anticipated some suffering for his Master’s cause but its fearful extent had not been revealed to him. He had been converted and entered upon his warfare like one who had had not only raised his colors but had nailed them to the mast – one with whom the issue must be victory or death. “I live for Christ; if need be I die for Him.”

The mark which the master branded upon the slave was ineffaceable. It must be carried with him to the end of life as a badge of servitude. Paul had entered the Divine service and at once clearly displayed the willingness of his submission in his speech and upon his character and in his daily walk, but thenceforth he was to bear the marks of that submission upon his body. He carried his colors into the face of danger but he was not to escape from the conflict without scars. Once he was ambitious of worldly distinction. He had doubtless looked up from his seat at the feet of Gamaliel in proud anticipation of the honors of an exalted professional life. He possibly imagined a future where he should command and others should obey – when everywhere he would be welcomed as among the great ones of the earth. In these flattering dreams, so common to early manhood, he had not fancied the real future through which he was destined to journey. He could not foresee that at Iconium he would be persecuted [Acts 14:1-5], or that at Lystra the fickle crowd would offer him Divine honors and afterward stone him nearly to death [Acts 14:8-19], that at Philippi they would beat him [Acts 16:22], or that at Melita he should be shipwrecked [Acts 27:42- 28:1], and that at Rome he should be imprisoned, and perhaps martyred [Acts 28:17-20].

In God’s plan for reclaiming of the world this had all been written, and although hidden from Paul, was being gradually fulfilled. After many of these things had been realized in Paul’s experience – when wounded and scarred – he had become a prisoner at Rome, and when some of the Churches for which he had faithfully labored had forgotten his teachings and become recreant [unfaithful] to their trust, he calls them to account for their unfaithfulness. To the Galatians, he writes a reproachful letter because they had departed from the Gospel doctrine of justification by faith in Christ – a doctrine for which he had fought and suffered for his Master and for which he now “bore in his body the marks of the Lord Jesus” [Galatians 6:17].

Let us turn for a few moments to this question of suffering. We cannot comprehend its import; we suffer and we complain and murmur. The wisdom of it is not always manifest to us. Its distress and painfulness are abundantly realized by us, but its utility is clouded with uncertainty. The problem of evil and the mystery of suffering have always been puzzling to human faith. Their attempted solution has sometimes led to distrust and doubt. We are told that suffering is the result of sin – sin against God’s laws, sin against natural laws, sin against our own bodies and spirits. We do not easily understand why sin of any kind is permitted to abound and flourish, even against the strenuous efforts of good men to exterminate it. We cannot comprehend why the just should suffer because of the sins of the unjust.

I am not here to answer these eager questionings of the human heart. They appear to be a part of God’s great plan for wise and holy purposes. “God moves in a mysterious way” [from William Cowper’s (1731-1800), God Moves in Mysterious Ways] and our times are in His hands. The way to glory seems to be through suffering, even as the Captain of our salvation was made perfect through suffering [Hebrews 2:10]. The whole creation groaneth, waiting its deliverance from the bondage sin [Romans 8:18-22]. The very earth on which we live has been rendered habitable for man by terrible convulsions, and by centuries of slow processes – by tearing apart and bringing together under new conditions. Disintegration and restoration; ground up, and consolidated, and ground up again. The rocky crust of the earth has been bruised and broken until its surface became a fitting place for vegetation, over which seed time, when the elements shall again melt with fervent heat. Look up those hillsides and down these valleys. Go to the Western Sierras, whose tall peaks reach the heavens. Go to our great Northern and Southern plateaus, those thousands of square miles of land which have lifted bodily hundreds of feet above the old surface; and wherever the eye wanders, the scars of the old earth, in its conflict with the early elemental forces, are everywhere visible. How they tell the story of creation, just as the finger of the Creator has written it! How they exalt our minds and draw our lives closer to Him whose fiat, “Let there be light” [Genesis 1:3], revealed all this grandeur to us! When the Creator saw that His work was good, He crowned it with man, and said to him, “Subdue the earth and have dominion over it” [Genesis 1:28].

Man stood in Eden in sinless simplicity and grandeur. He was a monarch in a realm as pure and holy as the heavens prepared for the future abode of the righteous. The beasts of the earth, the fowls of the air, were given him as a heritage. His abode was paradise – a place so beautiful and lovely as to be typical of heaven. In the midst of the garden stood a tree that was good to look upon, its fruit was good for food. Ah, it was more. God had said of it, “But of the tree of knowledge of good and evil thou shalt not eat” [Genesis 2:17]. Why not? Here was a test of man’s fidelity. “In the day thou eatest therof thou shalt surely die” [Genesis 2:17]. But what is death? It had not come into the world. Here was the problem. It was a tree to be desired to make one wise. The tempter came and said, “Ye shall not surely die; eat. Your eyes shall be opened; ye shall be as God, knowing good from evil” [Genesis 3:4-5]. The tempter triumphed and man fell. Man sought to obtain by disobedience what by obedience might freely have been his own. He received a curse in place of a blessing. In consequence of his sin he must now struggle for his bread and eat it in sorrow all the days of his life. Thorns and thistles came forth to wound his hands as he tilled the earth. He began to bear not the honorable wounds of righteous warfare, but the marks of ingratitude and disobedience.

Paul’s marks were the scars of an honorable conflict. He could exhibit them without shame. He could refer to them with pride; he could contemplate them with satisfaction. They were the marks that the Master would recognize when he came to call together His own.

Let us not forget this lesson in our individual lives. There are marks of honor and marks of dishonor – scars that will commend us and scars that will condemn. We battle for the right and our scars are our glory. We contend for the wrong and its marks become our disgrace. In all the mythologies and theologies of the world, this problem of evil has been prominent. Night has struggled against the day; darkness has opposed the light; evil has sought to vanquish the good. Satan has contended against the Almighty. We have fallen from a high state. How low we have fallen we cannot, in our present condition, fully realize. The descent was easy and rapid. How shall he ascend again? Not so easily as he fell. He must toil up the ascent. He must fight his way back. He must suffer. He must receive wounds and scars. The marks of the fire are upon him, but he shall come from the furnace purified from the dross of baser self and more perfect.

We rise also by mental suffering. Losses over which we sometimes grieve often strengthen our determination and courage and broaden our sympathies for the distress of others. Sorrows that so often multiply about us soften our lives and bring us into comforting fellowship with others. Human life is exalted and men are made better and rise higher through their afflictions. When analyzed under the searching test of Gospel chemistry, sufferings are not unmixed evils. They may sometimes leave upon our bodies the undesirable marks of our folly, yet in all essentials which advance men toward God they unify the race. Human government, the child of aggressive and advancing civilization, has come to its present condition through conflict and sufferings. Enlightened men of all ages have ever seen brighter light ahead. But the governments grow slowly. Society advances by painful steps and against fearful opposition from the powers of darkness. Men must fight if they would be free. The wounds and scars received in such a warfare are the highest insignia of honor. No sacrifice is too great for man to make his fellows as he lifts the world toward truth.

“He is a free man whom the truth makes free” [from William Cowper’s The Task (1785), Book V, “The Winter Morning Walk.”], and that which exalts truth is an undoubted instrument of God. The soul that bears the marks of suffering for truth’s sake is accepted of God. Such marks were Paul’s passports to glory…

The history of our own country is replete with incidents. Every one of these periods has been marked with blood from the earliest Colonial strife down to the great war which forever settled the perplexing question under our Constitution – a war that not only broke the cords of human bondage but which gave true manhood to the slave. These times of strife and blood have each accomplished a higher and more permanent purpose than could have been reached by any other means. They have all commenced new periods of more rapid advancement. The actors in the last great struggle alone survive. Other generations have died and passed away. History records what they did. We know the wounds they received. History exhibits what they did. We know the wounds they received. History exhibits to us the scars and the body politic retains the marks as honorable exhibits for our instruction and profit. We know by these marks what they did for us.

I have not attempted to solve the problem of evil or to explain the mystery of suffering; I refer to these historical incidents and facts to show you that in the order of God’s providence, they exist for good and wise purposes which, in His own time, He will make known to us. He is using theses scourgings for our benefit and through them He is lifting us up toward Him. They are the lights upon our earthy path which show us the way to higher attainments. Do you want a better proof of these facts than your own agency in the preservation and perpetuation of our own government and the strengthening of its principles and broadening of its policy? Your own lives have marked an epoch in history such as the world has never experienced within the same limit of years. Prior to the war in which you were actors, the Union was in danger – the country was in a state of transition. The most perplexing question under our Constitution was to be definitely settled, and that settlement was to be definitely settled, and that settlement meant either a Union dissolved or a Union strengthened. Long years of discussion had not settled it. Legislation, wise and unwise, only aggravated it. Compromise scarcely afforded temporary quiet. Slavery and liberty were opposites that would never coalesce. Blood only could wipe out the natural stain. From Sumter to Appomattox, how the whole land groaned! How the earth drank the blood of loved ones from ten thousand peaceful homes! How bravely young and old offered their lives in defense of that Union, symbolized by the old flag which so peacefully floats today! The sacrifice was terrible but the object was beyond price. It was life for life; it was life for freedom; it was life for one inseparable union of States; it was life for one flag and one country. The thunders of the battles which rent the air during those years of conflict shook the nations, and thrones and kingdoms trembled under the reverberations. Human government the world over learned a lesson and gained an experience in those four years that no century of events had ever imparted before. Look today at our working millions, paying homage to the Stars and Stripes and saying to the nations with whom we have entered into honest rivalry with our industries, “There is not strife between us. We have neither jealousies nor envies. Come under our flag, and its stripes shall represent the union that dwells among us.”

See again the visiting thousands who come from afar as they mingle with our people and observe their prosperity today. Follow them as they return to their homes, carrying with them new impressions of our country and of our people – a clearer knowledge of the extent and greatness of our country and of our people – a profound admiration for the peaceful, well furnished and comfortable Christian homes of our working classes. Listen to their report of what a free and united government can do for the masses who created the governing power, and you will say that this year will be America’s benediction to the world. The blessings which are ours today have not come through a long reign of peace, for you, my comrades, bear in your bodies today the marks of the strife which preserved this nation in its integrity and unity. They are honorable marks of a glorious warfare for the right. Napoleon honored his brave soldiers with badges of distinction. England bestowed medals upon those who contributed to her victories, and these were proudly worn as evidences that in the day of trial they were not found wanting.

You wear the badge of an honored brotherhood whose organization was the most remarkable victory of peace in all history. But that badge is more. It is an evidence that you served your country under patriotic enlistment and an honorable discharge at the termination of your service. It is a mark of distinction that your country not only honors but loves. But to some who wear the badge are added honors in the wounds they bear, in the speaking scars that tell of conflict, of loyalty, of glorious victory – glorious and honorable marks and scars.

During the war a soldier lay upon his cot in one of our hospitals, just reviving from the sleep of chloroform which and been administered to remove his right arm. He missed it, and lifting the blood stained sheet, requested that the missing member be show him. His request was granted and reaching out his left hand he grasped the cold hand of the right and shaking it cordially, said, “Good-bye, old arm. We have been a long time together, but we must part now. You will never again write a letter to mother or sister, never fire another carbine, nor swing another saber for the government, but I don’t begrudge you. You have been torn from my body that not a single state should be torn from our Union.” Glorious marks:

“They tell of courage never quelled, Of duty noble done, Of that dark, awful, lonely death, Of everlasting glory won, And dearer still, a nation’s love.”

[From William Ross Wallace’s, “In Memory of the Heroic Captain Herndon,” in The United States Democratic Review, (New York: Conrad Swackhamer, 1857), Vol. XI, p. 458.]

Paul gloried in the marks of his devotion to the cause of Christ. No sacrifice was too great for him to make. He had formerly persecuted the followers of his present Master under devotion to the old faith, which, from the days of Abraham, had descended along the Hebrew line, with many changes and through many conflicts, down to the days of the Messiah. Christ came to introduce a reign of peace – to lay the foundation of a faith which, when universally adopted, would solve the problems of suffering and evil. He came not to destroy but to fulfill [Matthew 5:17] and bring men back to their true relationship with their Maker. That faith was sealed with Christ’s blood. The faith was for you. Under it, for nearly nineteen hundred years, the world has been growing better. Mankind has been growing more fraternal, government more humane, and faith more pure. Paul bore in his body the marks of this faith for his Maker’s sake. It was because of this faith that you made the sacrifice which bears testimony to your loyalty – for it you bear honored marks today. He says, “As you have been true to your country, so be true to Me. You are Mine. I have bought you with a price. [1 Corinthians 6:20] That price as My blood. I was wounded for your transgressions and by My stripes ye are healed” [Isaiah 53:5].

I appeal to you as brave men whose courage none can doubt – men who answered their country’s first trumpet call to battle, and throughout fire and smoke and danger fought till the war was over and victory won.

Another trumpet calls – another banner waves, blood stained and glorious with victory. An army gathers under it and gives true allegiance to the great Captain – the Lord Jesus. As you answered your country’s call and fought for her safety, answer now the call of the Lord Jesus, and under her banner, following His leadership, fight and win and save your souls. Find for sin and death an Appomattox that will open the gates of the New Jerusalem through which you will pass to a reward greater and grander than any yet won on earthly field and where the heroes and martyrs of all the ages and all the fields of honor will give glad welcome to him, who having fought the fight and kept the faith, shall bear in his body the marks of the Lord Jesus.

Sermon – Life & Character of Joseph Smith – 1877


This sermon was preached by William Henry Brooks in Boston in 1877.


sermon-life-character-of-joseph-smith-1877-1

THE STRONG STAFF AND THE BEAUTIFUL
ROD BROKEN

A SERMON

COMMEMORATIVE OF THE LIFE AND CHARACTER

OF

JOSEPH SMITH

LATE REAR-ADMIRAL IN THE NAVY OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

PREACHED ON

SEPTUAGESIMA SUNDAY, JAN. 28, A.D. 1877

IN

ST. ANDREW’S CHURCH, HANOVER

DIOCESE OF MASSACHUSETTS

BY THE REVEREND
WILLIAM HENRY BROOKS, S.T.D.
MINISTER OF THE PARISH

 

JEREMIAH XLVIII. 17.

“All ye that are about him, bemoan him; and all ye that know his name, say, How is the strong staff broken, and the beautiful rod!”

“A power has passed from the earth.”

A “strong staff” of greatness and a “beautiful rod” of goodness, joined together more closely and more inseparably than if “with hoops of steel,” has been broken.

All that were “about him,” whether as kindred, friends, companions in arms, or compatriots, “bemoan” his departure hence. “All that knew his name,” as that of one of the ablest, bravest, and purest defenders of their country, can truly say that “a prince and a great man is fallen.”

“Greatness and goodness are not means, but ends!
Hath he not always treasures, always friends,
The good great man? Three treasures,—love and light,
And calm thoughts, regular as infant’s breath;
And three firm friends, more sure than day and night,—
Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death.”

On the 17th of January, in the year of our Lord 1877, “very early in the morning,” “when it was yet dark,” at the capital of our nation,—just one day after the completion of sixty-eight years he had been in the service of his country,—it pleased Almighty God, in His wise providence, to take out of this world the soul of Joseph Smith, Rear-Admiral in the Navy of the United States, the oldest officer in that branch of the public defence.

Had he lived in this world until the 30th of the coming March, he would have attained the goodly age of eighty-seven years.

“The mere worldling,” obedient to the powers of the Devil, “is torn from the world which is the only sphere of delight which he knows, as the fabled mandrake was torn from the earth shrieking and with bleeding roots.

“He is like the ship which by some fierce wind is dragged from its moorings, and driven furiously to perish on the rocks;” but this servant of God, obedient to the powers of the world to come, was “as a ship, which has been long waiting in harbor, and joyfully, when the signal is given, lifts its anchor, and makes sail for the harbor of eternity.”

When his spirit returned unto God who gave it, there was no long and bitter struggle, so painful to witness; but,—

“Like a shadow thrown
Softly and lightly from a passing cloud,
Death fell upon him;”

And, in the valley of that death-shade,—

“There calm at length he breath’d his soul away.”

The quiet and composure of his departure from earth to Paradise—unbroken even by a solitary sigh—reminds us how “the Jewish doctors taught that the angel Gabriel drew gently out with a kiss, the souls of the righteous from their mouths; to something of which kind, the phrase so often used to express the peaceful departure of the saints, In osculo Domini obdormivit, must allude.”

The secretary of the Navy (the Hon. George M. Robeson) in a Special Order, remarkable for its simplicity, directness, and beauty, with deep regret announced the death of Rear-Admiral Smith, as that of the oldest officer in the naval service; spoke of this gallant officer as having risen rapidly in his profession, and honorably distinguished himself in every grade; and, after expressing the opinion that his death would be universally lamented by the service and the country, ordered that the customary honors belonging to his rank be paid to his memory at all the navy-yards and naval stations of the United States, and on the flag-ships of the several squadrons of the navy of the same.

On January the 20th, the Friday following his death, his body was borne on the shoulders of eight seamen—eight distinguished officers of the army and navy acting as pall-bearers—into St. John’s Church, Washington,—in the presence of a large congregation, very many of which were officers of the navy,—where he had so long worshipped, and of which he had so long been a useful member.

Here the first part of the Burial Office—the sentences, the psalms, and the lesson—was said.

The second part of the Burial Office—the meditations, the solemn interment, and the prayers—was said in the chapel at Oak Hill Cemetery, Georgetown, D.C., after which his precious dust was placed in the family vault in the family vault in that “Acre of our God.”

At his own request, all the services and all the honors on this occasion were of the simplest character, compatible with Christian and naval propriety.

Joseph Smith—the son of the Hon. Albert Smith and Anne Lenthall Eells, his wife—was the second of nine children, and was born in Hanover, Mass., on the 30th of March, A.D. 1790.

At the time when he, an innocent, happy little boy, was playing in the green fields of Hanover, the country, of which he was to be a brilliant ornament and gallant defender, did not possess even a single ship of war. But such was the rapidity of change in this particular, that, ere threescore years and ten had winged their flight, he saw his beloved country in the number and power of her ships of war almost, and in the skill and efficiency with which they were served quite, the peer of any nation of the world.

From the merchant-service, he entered the Navy of the United States, as Midshipman, on the 16th of January, 1809.

He was appointed Lieutenant on the 24th of July, 1813. Having entered the service but three years before the last war between our own and the mother country, he was soon called upon to give evidence of his willingness and ability to “be a safeguard unto the United States of America, and a security for such as pass on the seas upon their lawful occasions.”

In the time of testing, he was not found wanting. In will and in deed, he was fully abreast with the occasion.

Being one of the officers in the gallant squadron on Lake Champlain, under the charge of the able and dauntless Commodore Thomas McDonough; serving as First Lieutenant of “The Eagle,” commanded by Capt. Henley,—of whose competency and bravery he ever cherished a very high opinion,—in the hard-fought battle of Plattsburg Bay, which occurred on the 11th of September, 1814, he was entrusted with responsible duties, which for one so young—he being then in this twenty-fifth year only—were discharged with wonderful zeal, fidelity, and skill. In the efforts resulting in the happy victory gained by our countrymen in that fierce and bloody contest with superior number, we are quite safe in ascribing to him, under the guidance and blessing of the Almighty, “who is the only Giver of victory,” and instrumentality of the very first importance.

During the battle “The Eagle” was exposed to a destructive and almost constant storm of iron hail; and, as “the booming shots” in rapid succession reached their intended destination, it was readily seen with almost “brave despair” that the furious cannonade would soon disable the ship.

The time came when the entire armament of one side of the vessel, through the well-served guns of its foes, was rendered useless; and it seemed as if “The Eagle” of the water, which, like the eagle of the sky after which it was named, had been—

“Proudly careering her course of joy:
Firm, on her own mountain vigor relying,
Breasting the dark storm, the red bolt defying,”—

was now, wounded, lacerated, the life-blood ebbing away, about to fall a prey into the hands of her enemies.

In this exigency Lieut. Smith obtained permission from his superior officer to send out a small boat, with an anchor, which, when cast into the water sufficiently distant from the ship, enabled it, through the cable attached to the anchor, so to be shifted as to bring the uninjured armament on its other side to bear, with its missiles of defence and destruction, on the wooden walls of its surprised assailants.

Having delivered its fire, he would have the vessel shifted, so as to present to the enemy its useless side,—thus securing comparative protection while preparing for another broadside,—and, when the guns were ready for action, would have the vessel hauled into position, when it would again pour upon the enemy its storm of shot and shell.

While this simple expedient of changing the side of the vessel next to the foe—consuming, perhaps, not more than fifteen minutes each time—prevented the vessel from becoming a prey to captors, it also had no small influence in contributing to the general victory obtained by the brave defenders of our country in that famous naval contest.

In appreciation of his gallantry on this occasion, the Congress of the United States bestowed upon him a medal.

During this battle, by the compression of the air resulting from the passage of one of the balls from the enemy’s cannon very near to him, his coat was very much torn, and himself was thrown senseless upon the deck.

He was taken up for dead; but, by the blessing of God upon the use of proper remedies, he was soon restored to consciousness, “and felt no harm.”

An incident in connection with the manning of “The Eagle” will serve to show his quickness and fertility of resource in availing himself of aid, when, perhaps, to almost any other person, none would have seemed attainable.

Six weeks before the launching of “The Eagle,” the timber of which it was constructed was quietly growing in its native home in the adjacent forests.

When launched, it was found that to be properly and efficiently manned, one hundred men would be required, while there were but about thirty available for this work. Receiving from Commodore McDonough a requisition on Gen. Macomb, who was in command of the land forces at Plattsburg, for a detail of soldiers for completing the crew of “The Eagle,” he presented it in person, and was told in reply by the General that he was expecting the enemy in superior numbers—fourteen thousand—under Gen. Prevost, the Governor-General of Canada, to come at any time, and that as his own force—about two thousand—was so much inferior numerically, he could not furnish him with the sorely needed men. The Lieutenant, after thinking a few moments, asked the General if he had not some men under discipline for military offences.

He replied that he had, and that he would gladly part with them.

The Lieutenant, having received the proper warrant, proceeded to a spot where the men, under a guard, were at work in a red clay soil, throwing up breastworks.

With but very scanty clothing, matted hair, and smeared with the unsightly clay, these poor fellows presented a pitiable sight.

They were well content to exchange the scene of their labor and punishment for a place on “The Eagle,” whither they were speedily carried in small boats.

Arrived on board, the Lieutenant saw that they were provided with the means for bathing, procured for them all the clothing that could be obtained, had the cook prepare for them a supper of the best the vessel afforded, and furnished them with blankets, that they might enjoy a comfortable and refreshing sleep.

This was ingenious—more than that, this was humane—most of all, this was Christian.

These very men, who were not only no help to Gen. Macomb, but, on the contrary, were a source of weakness, as the guard necessary for their oversight and detention detracted from the total sum of his efficient soldiers, were converted into useful helpers, and did good, loyal service in the day of battle.

It pleased God so to order it, that he should be the last of those naval officers who, in the second war with Great Britain, distinguished themselves.

Would it be unjust to them, and untrue of him, if it should be said,—

“This was the noblest Roman of them all.

* * *

His life was gentle, and the elements
So mix’d in him, that Nature might stand up,
And say to all the world, This was a man.”

In the following year, 1815, he was in the Mediterranean squadron, under the gallant Commodore Decatur; and in the war with the Dey of Algiers,—occasioned by his plundering, capturing, and condemning American vessels, and selling their crews into slavery,—at the capture on the 18th of June, OF THE Algerine vessels (a frigate of forty-four guns, and a brig), he rendered great assistance, and behaved with extraordinary courage, favorable mention of which was appreciatively made in the official report.

On the 3d of March, 1827, he was commissioned as Commander; being at that time attached to the Navy Yard in Charlestown, Mass.

In 1834 he became Commandant of that extensive and very important yard.

On the 9th of February, 1837, he was commissioned as Captain.

In 1840 he was Commander of the Receiving-Ship “Ohio,” at least one of the noblest ships, if not the noblest ship of the line, over which a flag ever floated.

In 1845 he had the command of the Mediterranean Squadron.

Amiable, considerate, exemplary in word and deed, it is not surprising that he should have had great influence with the crew of his ship.

A single instance will abundantly illustrate this point. Many years ago, when the crew were entitled by law to a daily ration of grog,—a mixture of spirit and water, not sweetened,—they were allowed, if so disposed, to commute it for a sum of money equal to its value.

Through his influence, every one of the crew, with a single exception, commuted.

This solitary sailor declined to commute, and insisted on the enjoyment of his legal right in this regard.

Accordingly, each morning, at the proper time, the grog-tub was brought forth, the usual call of summons was made, and the officer having this duty in charge dealt out to the solitary recipient his legal quantity of stimulant.

Finding that this insister on his regulation rights was determined to persevere in the course he had entered upon, he was subsequently transferred to another ship; thus rendering the entire crew, in this particular, one in sentiment and one in action.

On the 25th of May, 1846, he was appointed Chief of the Bureau of Yards and Docks, the duties of which office he discharged with great ability and faithfulness until the spring of 1869, when bodily infirmity constrained him to resign.

On the 16th of July, 1862, he was commissioned as Rear-Admiral.

He went on the Retired List, but rendered valuable service to the country in the performance of special duty at the Navy Department, in Washington.

In 1871 he withdrew entirely from active service, and

“In sober state,
Through the sequester’d vale of “private” life,
The venerable patriarch guileless held
The tenor of his way.”

In these days, when instances of corruption, bribery, and theft, on the part of those holding positions of trust, are far from being rare exceptions to a general rule; when good citizens, grieved and discouraged at the manifestations of “conceiving and uttering from he heart words of falsehood,” are tempted to say, “Judgment is turned away backward, and justice standeth afar off: for truth is fallen in the street, and equity cannot enter. Yea, truth faileth,” it is not only refreshing but salutary to look upon the example of a man who, placed in a position where he had the opportunity, if so disposed, to amass vast wealth by the prostitution of his office to his own personal advantage, and who, if he had availed himself of the opportunity, could have concealed his conduct from the knowledge of all save a few interested ones, and the all-seeing eye of the Almighty, so conducted himself in office with—

“That chastity of honor which felt a stain like a wound,”—

that no one, who understood his character, would have dared to suggest, either for or without reward, the deviation on his part of a hair’s-breadth from the line of strict integrity.

If the prophet, in the capital of our country, had proclaimed the opening words of the First Lesson of this morning, “Run ye to and fro through the streets, . . . and see now and know, and seek in the broad places thereof, if ye can find a man, if there be any that executeth judgment, that seeketh the truth,” this incorrupt and incorruptible servant of his country could have said—if his shrinking modesty could have been sufficiently overcome to allow him to speak words affirming the integrity of his public life, both in purpose and execution—what Samuel said to all Israel: “Whose ox have I taken? Or whose ass have I taken? Or whom have I defrauded? Whom have I oppressed? Or of whose hand have I received any bribe to blind mine eyes therewith? And I will restore it you.”

And, in such an event, what would his fellow-countrymen have replied, but in the words of all Israel in answer to the testifying by Samuel to his own integrity?—“Thou hast not defrauded us, nor oppressed us; neither hast thou taken ought of any man’s hand.”

Whatever of worldly substance he accumulated, was the result of honest industry. To that substance may be truly applied the words spoken by John Randolph, concerning a temporal estate gathered by a man of rigid integrity: “Sir, there is not a dirty shilling in it.”

When such an one, whose example in public life has been “without spot, and blameless,” passes from the life that now is, how can we refrain from the prayer of the heart, if we do from that of the lips?—“Help, Lord; for the godly man ceaseth; for the faithful fail from among the children of men.”

He was a “man that had seen affliction,” grievous to be borne, time and time again repeated.

He recognized it as God’s visitation, perhaps to try his patience for the example of others, or perhaps that this faith might be found, in the day of the Lord, laudable, glorious, and honorable, to the increase of glory and endless felicity; and so, when “woe succeeded a woe as wave a wave,” he, through the help of the Holy Ghost, never cast away his confidence in the Father of mercies, nor placed it anywhere but in Him, making the sentiment of the words, and the words themselves, of the patriarch Job, his own: “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.”

His wife, “the desire of his eyes,”—previously Harriet Bryant, of Maine,—a faithful, devoted, and Christian companion, “an help meet for him,” was taken from him by “a stroke” of a peculiarly painful character; dying from the effects of a fearful railroad accident, a very few days after its occurrence.

A son,—Joseph Barker,—“a creature of heroic blood,” while in command of the fine frigate “Congress,” of eighteen hundred and sixty-seven tons burden, during her engagement, on Saturday, the 9th of March, 1862, in the James River, with the mailed monster “Merrimac,” was killed by a shell from the enemy.

“The ‘Merrimac,’ choosing her position distant from the frigate about a hundred yards only, discharged broadside after broadside of her hundred pound shot and shell, raking the frigate from stem to stern.

“The carnage was awful.

“The decks were in an instant covered with dismounted guns, and mangled limbs, and gory blood.

“She was set on fire in three separate places.

“The fresh breeze fanned the flames, which timbers and planks, dry as tinder, fed. The fiery billows burst forth as from a volcano.

“The wounded could not escape, and were exposed to the horrible doom of being slowly burned alive.

“This sight could not be endured by the surviving officers and crew.

“With tears and anguish, the flag was drawn down.”

When the depressing tidings, that “The Congress” had struck her flag, came to the ears of the father of her intrepid commander, without knowing “that the chieftain lay unconscious of his” noble parent, he said, “Then Joe is dead.”

These words—the expression of well-founded faith in the inflexible purpose of his son, never to yield victory to the foe—we “should not willingly let die.”

Another son,—Albert Nathaniel,—who commanded a vessel in the squadron under Commodore Farragut, at the capture of New Orleans, on the 25th of April, 1862, acquitted himself on that occasion with that wisdom and bravery which were his, both in his own right, and by virtue of descent from his illustrious sire.

This son, well accomplished in the science and practice of naval warfare, subsequently became Chief of the Bureau of Equipment and Recruiting.

He died of disease contracted in the service of his country; to which he had ever been loyal and true.

In these afflicting dispensations from the Father’s hand, that religion in which he implicitly believed supplied him with all needed support and consolation, since—

“’Tis hers to pluck the amaranthine flower
Of Faith, and round the Sufferer’s temples bind
Wreaths that endure affliction’s heaviest shower,
And do not shrink from sorrow’s keenest wind.”

He did not submit to the will of God.

To do this is not Christian; for it is to yield to another because on the side of that other there is power, and to do otherwise would be worse than useless.

It is enforced resignation, and consequently is but little worth, because it is not the making of God’s will the will of His creature. He did more and better than this:—he acquiesced in God’s will; by the help of Divine grace, substituting that holy, wise, and unerring will for that which by nature was his.

Thus, through Divine power, did he “glory in tribulations: knowing that tribulation worketh patience, and patience, experience, and experience, hope, and hope maketh not ashamed,” “which hope he had as an anchor of the soul, unfailing and steadfast, and reaching, as it were, by a cable laid out of the Ship,—the vessel of the Church,—and not descending downward to an earthly bottom beneath the troubled waters of this world, but, what no earthly anchor can do, extending upward above the pure abysses of the liquid se of bright ether, and stretching by a heavenward cable even into the calm depths and solid moorings of the waveless harbor of Heaven; whither our Forerunner Jesus has entered, and to Whom the Church clings with the tenacious grasp of Faith: as a vessel is moored by a cable or an anchor firmly grounded in the steadfast soil at the bottom of the sea.”

All alone, he received the manifold gifts of grace in Confirmation, or laying-on of hands, from Bishop Eastburn; and, by the reception of that Apostolic rite, ratified and confirmed the solemn obligations entered into on his behalf, in his tender age, at the time when in Holy Baptism he was grafted into the body of Christ’s Church.

At his confirmation, he wore the full uniform of his high rank,—the highest attainable in the navy in those days; not that he might thereby deepen the impression of his eminent position on those then present,—for vanity and ostentation, in all their forms, were foreign to his nature,—but that he might declare that, in this repeating of his oath of fidelity to “the Sovereign Commander of all the world,” it was not merely as a private disciple, but also as an officer in that branch of the nation’s service which “hath ever been its greatest defence and ornament;. . . its ancient and natural strength,—the floating bulwark of our” country.

It is not often that the eye rests upon a sight so touching and suggestive as that which, in the closing years of his life, was presented by his attendance upon and the reception of the Holy Communion in St. John’s Church, Washington, at an hour so early in the morning of the Lord’s Day, that very many of the inhabitants of the capital of our country had not even awaked.

To behold his reverent deportment, to look upon his sweet and peaceful face, to witness his infirm steps as he slowly approached the chancel-rail, to see him in meek devotion “fall low on his knees before the footstool” of the Great King,—knees stiffened with age, the bending of which must have caused him pain,—while partaking of the blessed Sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ,—was a sight which, on those who were privileged to see it, would be indelibly impressed.

At the time of his death, he was, as he had been for twenty-one years, the senior Church-Warden of St. John’s Church, Washington. Such was the esteem in which he was held by his fellow-parishioners, that when, owing to his physical inability, he could no longer discharge the duties of that high and important office, and he desired to give place to another, they declined to accede to his desire, and continued him in office; and, in thus honoring him, highly honored themselves.

That branch of the Church Catholic in which, by the reception of the Seal of the Lord in Confirmation, he was strengthened with the Holy Ghost the Comforter, and assumed the vows of Christian discipleship, found in this upright and God-fearing man one intelligently and firmly attached to its principles, which are those of Christianity “as understood by the Primitive Church, grounded upon Holy Scripture, as interpreted by universal primitive consent and practice,” and one abundantly satisfied with its provisions for the nourishing and developing of the life of God in the soul of man.

Under the tutelage of the gentle and bountiful Church,—“the Mother of us all,” descended from the Apostles of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, through the Church of England,—fed with “the sincere milk of the word,” he grew in grace; nourished with that ‘strong meat” which “belongeth to them that are full age,” he developed into a full-grown man in Christ Jesus; and through her Sacraments, sacramental ordinances, and other means of grace, in

“An old age serene and bright,
And lovely as a Lapland night,”

matured for glory.

Tenderly and lovingly did she hold him in her patient and unwearied arms, until she humbly commended his soul into the hands of the Almighty, the faithful Creator, and most merciful Saviour, most humbly beseeching Him that it might be precious in His sight, having been washed in the blood of that immaculate Lamb, that was slain to take away the sins of the world.

Never did she cease her labor, her care and diligence, to bring him unto that agreement in the faith and knowledge of God, and to that ripeness and perfectness of age in Christ, that there might be no place left either for error in religion, or for viciousness in life, until he was received, out of her strong and comforting arms, into those heavenly habitations where the souls of those who sleep in the Lord Jesus enjoy perpetual joy and felicity.

We have thus endeavored to show that, in the character of this distinguished citizen of our country, the two elements that so largely and strongly influence the world in which we live—greatness and goodness—were powerfully and beautifully combined.

In the words of the First Lesson of this evening, “Weep ye not for the dead, neither bemoan him: but weep sore,” that our beloved country can no longer lean upon the “staff” of his lofty, symmetrical, and robust greatness, and can no longer carry with her, in the various walks of the public service, the “rod” of his earnest, unvarying, and whole-hearted goodness.

Well may we feel that while, by the taking-out of the world of the soul of our deceased brother, Paradise is the richer, the present world is the poorer.

We sorrow, but not as others without hope, for him who now sleeps in Jesus.

While we mourn for our loss of him, as a true-hearted friend, a patriotic citizen, a faithful servant of the Republic, we should especially and chiefly mourn for our loss of him as a Christian, for the all-sufficient reason that

“A Christian is the highest style of man.”

May God the Holy Ghost, the Sanctifier of the faithful, daily increase His manifold gifts of grace in this congregation who knew and loved him, and who, in this consecrated house of prayer, have with him worshipped the Triune God, that they like him, having been received into the ark of Christ’s Church, and being steadfast in faith, joyful through hope, and rooted in charity, may so pass the waves of this troublesome world, that, finally, they may come in safety to the haven where he now is, and where they would be,—the land of everlasting life!

“He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.

“Then are they glad because they be quiet: so He bringeth them unto their desired haven.”

Paying Off the Barbary Pirates

The following document is a type-signed Act of Congress enabling the President to pay the extortion fee to the Emperor of Morocco as a way to avoid conflict in what is now known as the Barbary Wars.The signatures include Speaker of the House, Frederick Augustus Muhlenberg, President of the Senate, John Adams, and President of the United States, George Washington.


paying-off-the-barbary-pirates-1


Congress of the United States:

At the Third Session,

Begun and held at the City of Philadelphia, on

Monday the sixth of December, one thousand

Seven hundred and ninety.

An Act Making an Appropriation for the Purpose Therein Mentioned

Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress, assembled, That for the purpose of effecting a recognition of the treaty of United States with the new Emperor of Morocco,1 there be, and hereby is appropriated a sum not exceeding twenty thousand dollars, to be paid out of the monies which prior to the first day of January next, shall arise from the duties imposed upon spirits distilled within the United States, and from stills by the act entitled, “An act repealing after the last day of June next, the duties heretofore laid upon distilled spirits imported from abroad, and laying others in their stead, and also upon spirits distilled within the United States, and for appropriating the same,” together with the excess of duties which may arise from the duties imposed by the said act on imported spirits beyond those which would have arisen by the act entitled “An act making further provision for the payment of the debts of the United States.” And the President is hereby authorized to take on loan, the whole sum by this act appropriated or so much thereof as he may judge requisite, at an interest not exceeding six per cent per annum, and the fund established for the above mentioned appropriation, is hereby pledged for the repayment of the principal and interest of any loan to be obtained in manner aforesaid, and in case of any deficiency in the said fund, the faith of the United States is hereby also pledged to make good such deficiency.

Frederick August Muhlenberg,
Speaker of the House of Representatives.

John Adams, Vice-President of the United States,
and President of the Senate.

Approved, March the third, 1791.

George Washington, President of the United States.


1 “Treaty with Morocco,” June 28 & July 15, 1786, The Avalon Project, https://avalon.law.yale.edu/18th_century/bar1786t.asp; George Washington to the Emperor of Morocco, March 31, 1791, National Archives.

Battle of Trenton

Below is a picture depicting George Washington in the Battle of Trenton. George Washington’s horse was wounded during the battle.1 The Battle of Trenton marked a significant victory for the American Army. They carried that momentum into another victory a few days later at the Battle of Princeton. Below is an account of God’s Divine protection of Washington.

battle-of-trenton-1

Historical Account

The heroism of Washington on the field of Princeton is matter of history. We have often enjoyed a touching reminiscence of that ever-memorable event from the late Colonel Fitzgerald. Who was aid to the chief, and who never related the story of his general’s danger and almost miraculous preservation, without adding to his tale the homage of a tear

The aid-de-camp had been ordered to bring up the troops from the rear of the column, when the band under General Mercer became engaged. Upon returning to the spot where he had left the commander-in-chief, he was no longer there. And, upon looking around, the aid discovered him endeavoring to rally the line which had been thrown into disorder by a rapid on-set of the foe.

Washington, after several ineffectual efforts to restore the fortunes of the fight, is seen to rein up his horse, with his head to the enemy, and in that position to become immovable. It was a last appeal to his soldiers, and seemed to say, Will you give up your general to the foe? Such an appeal was not made in vain. The discomfitted Americans rally on the instant, and form into line. The enemy halt, and dress their line.

The American chief is between the adverse posts, as though he had been placed there, a target for both. The arms of both lines are levelled. Can escape from death be possible? Fitzgerald, horror-struck at the danger of his beloved commander, dropped the reins upon his horse’s neck, and drew his hat over his face, that he might not see him die. A roar of musketry succeeds, and then a shout. It is the shout of victory.

The aid-de-camp ventures to raise his eyes, and 0, glorious sight! The enemy are broken and flying, while dimly amidst the glimpses of the smoke is seen the chief. “Alive, unharmed, and without a wound,” waving his hat, and cheering his comrades to the pursuit.

Colonel Fitzgerald, celebrated as one of the finest horsemen in the American army, now dashed his rowels in his charger’s flanks, and, heedless of the dead and dying in his way, flew to the side of his chief, exclaiming, “Thank God! your excellency is safe!” The favorite aid, a gallant and warm-hearted son of Erin, a man of thews and sinews, and “albeit unused to the melting mood,” now gave loose rein to his feelings, and wept like a child, for joy.

Washington, ever calm amid scenes of the greatest excitement, affectionately grasped the hand of his aid and friend, and then ordered—”Away, my dear colonel, and bring up the troops—the day is our own!”2


Endnotes

1 Bulletin of Information for Cavalry Officers (Washington: October 1920), 510.
2 George Washington Parke Custis, Recollections and Private Memoirs of Washington, by His Adopted Son (New York: Derby & Jackson, 1860), 190-192.

American troops land at Omaha Beach during the D-Day landings of 1944.

War Bond Posters

During WWI and WWI, war bonds were sold by the U.S. Treasury Department to help fund the war efforts. To promote the bonds and encourage their purchase by citizens, the government produced posters that would promote patriotism and stir pro-American feelings. Below are some of the official posters printed by the U.S. Government Printing Office; notice that each has a strong religious theme. For example, in the WWII posters, the enemy is attacking the Bible — the book that represented the heart and core of America and her beliefs and values. Notice that in the poster with President Franklin D. Roosevelt, a family is gathered around a cross. Others contain Bible themes and even point to the birth of Christ. Among the WWI posters is a mother and child offering a prayer, and an image of religious leader and hero Joan of Arc. Such messages, conveyed by the official mechanisms of the federal government, were never seen to be unconstitutional nor were they even questioned by citizens. To the contrary, Christian and Biblical principles were seen as indivisible from America.


World War II Posters

war-bond-posters-1          war-bond-posters-2

war-bond-posters-3          war-bond-posters-4

war-bond-posters-5


World War I Posters

war-bond-posters-6          war-bond-posters-7

A member of the American military stands beside a US flag raised after the Battle of Iwo Jima.

John Basilone Magazine Cover

Sergeant John Basilone showed great heroism during his service in WWII. During the Campaign of Guadalcanal (August 1942-February 1943), he and his handful of men were responsible for holding back a Japanese assault on October 24-25, 1942. Throughout this engagement, he personally repaired and manned multiple machine guns. When his small detachment ran low, Basilone fought his way through the Japanese lines to resupply critically-needed ammunition. The Americans eventually won this long campaign. As a result of his actions, Basilone was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Later in the war at the Battle of Iwo Jima (February 19-March 26, 1945), Basilone came ashore with the first wave of Marines. Shortly after landing, his unit was trapped by machine guns from Japanese blockhouses. Basilone worked his way around one of these blockhouses and single-handedly destroyed it. As he was making his way towards an airfield, he came across an American tank trapped in a minefield. While under fire, he guided the tank out of the minefield and to safety. He was later killed by flying shrapnel. Basilone was awarded the Navy Cross for his courageous actions during the battle.

Below is a June 24, 1944 Collier’s magazine cover with a picture of Sergeant Basilone as well as a brief note by him.


john-basilone-magazine-cover-1

john-basilone-magazine-cover-2

 

General Order Respecting the Observance of the Sabbath

At the height of the Civil War in 1862, President Abraham Lincoln issued this General Order regarding the observance of the Sabbath in the military. In his General Order, President Lincoln quoted from two separate General Orders (February 26, and July 9, 1776) issued by George Washington during the Revolutionary War.


general-order-respecting-the-observance-of-the-sabbath-1


GENERAL ORDER RESPECTING THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH DAY IN
THE ARMY AND NAVY

EXECUTIVE MANSION,
Washington, November 15, 1862

The President, Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy, desires and enjoins the orderly observance of the Sabbath by the officers and men in the military and naval service. The importance for men and beast of the prescribed weekly rest, the sacred rights of Christian soldiers and sailors, a becoming deference to the best sentiment of a Christian people, and a due regard for the divine will demand that Sunday labor in the Army and Navy be reduced to the measure of strict necessity.
The discipline and character of the national forces should not suffer nor the cause they defend be imperiled by the profanation of the day or name of the Most High. “At this time of public distress,” adopting the words of Washington in 1776, “men may find enough to do in the service of God and their country without abandoning themselves to vice and immorality.” The first general order issued by the Father of his Country after the Declaration of Independence indicates the spirit in which our institutions were founded and should ever be defended:

The General hopes and trusts that every officer and man will endeavor to live and act as becomes a Christian soldier defending the dearest rights and liberties of his country.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN


George Washington’s original General Orders:

February 26, 1776

All Officers, non-commissioned Officers and Soldiers are positively forbid[den from] playing at Cards, and other Games of  chance. At this time of public distress, men may find enough to do in the service of God and their country without abandoning themselves to vice and immorality.

July 9, 1776

The Hon. Continental Congress having been pleased to allow a Chaplain to each Regiment, with the pay of Thirty-three Dollars and one third pr month—The Colonels or commanding officers of each regiment are directed to procure Chaplains accordingly; persons of good Characters and exemplary lives—To see that all inferior officers and soldiers pay them a suitable respect and attend carefully upon religious exercises. The blessing and protection of Heaven are at all times necessary but especially so in times of public distress and danger—The General hopes and trusts that every officer and man will endeavor to live and act as becomes a Christian soldier defending the dearest rights and liberties of his country.

[Source: The Writings of George Washington, ed. John C. Fitzpatrick (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1931), 4:347, February 26, 1776 Order; Writings (1932), 5:244-245, July 9, 1776 Order.]

Robert Smalls Honored with Medal


The following newspaper article is about the Gold Medal presented to Robert Smalls. Robert Smalls, a former slave at the time of the printing of this article, was pressed into service in the Confederacy as the quartermaster for the steamer Planter. On May 12, 1862 he was given an opportunity, as a result of the removal of the Confederate officers of the steamer, to take the steamer and make his escape. He piloted the steamer to freedom and surrendered it to the Union. The complete story of his inspiring escape can be found in this WallBuilders Newsletter. The New York newspaper, The Evening Post from October 7, 1862, gives the account of the presentation of Smalls with a Gold Medal from the “colored citizens of New York.”


smalls1

The Black Hero of the Planter Among His People.

PUBLIC RECEPTION OF ROBERT SMALLS – INTERESTING CEREMONIES AT SHILOH CHURCH

smalls2A great concourse of the colored people of this city assembled last evening at Rev. Henry Highland Garnett’s (Shiloh) Church, at the corner of Prince and Marion streets, to participate in the ceremonies of a public reception and presentation to Robert Smalls , the heroic pilot of the secession steamer Planter, which, with a crew of slaves, he ran out of Charleston harbor, passing six fortifications, including Sumter, and achieving freedom for himself and all on board. The gathering was most respectable in character; nearly all the noted colored men of New York and Brooklyn were present, and the demonstration was in every respect worthy of the occasion. The spectacle of a great and intelligent gathering of black men and women to do special honor to a recognized hero, who has honored not only himself but his race, was sufficiently sublime.

Ransom F. Wake called the meeting to order and nominated J. H. Townsend for President, and twenty vice-presidents, who were elected by acclamation. Mr. Townsend, on taking his seat, made an address, referring in suitable terms to the object of the gathering. A prayer was offered by the Rev. J. T. Raymond [Pastor of First Independent Baptist Church in Boston].

The first regular speech at the meeting was delivered by Rev. S. N. Gloucester, of the Siloam Presbyterian Church of Brooklyn. The speaker reviewed the history of the colored race in this country, form the time of Attocks {sic}, who was murdered in the streets of Boston for his hatred of England and his insults to British soldiers, to the present day. The most notable instances of courage and many resolution that have been developed in all that period, and finally, the crowning act of Smalls, not less difficult nor dangerous than many which have been undertaken that did not prove so signally successful – were referred to by the speaker; and he held that they were sufficient to establish the claims of the African-American race, notwithstanding the disadvantages under which it labored, to respectful recognition among the other races. Mr. Gloucester also spoke of the emancipation proclamation, regretting the delay of ninety days, but regarding it simply as an act of grace, which would not be accepted by the rebels. The hero of the evening received a flattering notice.

robertsmallsThe next speaker was Professor J. B. Wilson, principal of the Brooklyn colored public school. His remarks were directed principally to the question of emancipation, and the condition of the colored people of the South in the new sphere of life which he held they were about entering. He believed the slaves would remain permanently where they are at present – perhaps on the plantations they were now cultivating, and which they would finally possess. The war would, he thought, bring about this result. The colored men would obtain their livelihood as hitherto by the cultivation of the soil; and eventually either by purchase (which was most likely), from the government or individuals, or by possible confiscation and results which might grow out of the war, they would peaceably acquire the lands in small parcels. The fact that if the struggle continues, the rebel male population will be so diminished as to render it impracticable if not impossible for the agricultural interests of the South to be managed by the whites now resident there, had also in the estimation of the speaker an important bearing on the question. The South was the natural home of the blacks; there they desired to remain; and would not be removed, for the reason, if for no other, that as the only available laboring force their place could not be filled. Colonization, while it was unpopular, was yet also, he held, impossible; and the destiny of the southern states was inseparably connected with that of the black race, which constituted the bone and sinew of their prosperity.

Robert Smalls entered the church as Professor Wilson closed his remarks and advanced to the front of the pulpit in company with reception committee. The entire audience, as he was recognized, rose and received him with demonstrations of extreme delight. The scene during the five minutes ensuing was the most remarkable, perhaps, of tis kind that ever occurred. The period of the reception and its object, with the new light the congregation felt was dawning on their race, combined to intensify the welcome and to impart to the cheers and various wild and enthusiastic outbursts of feeling which were manifested, an electrifying effect that can scarcely be conceived. No description that we could give would convey any adequate appreciation of the occasion.

smalls3A gold medal was presented to Mr. Smalls on behalf of the colored people of the city by Mr. J. J. Zuille, in a presentation speech, in which he expressed his doubt if there was a rebel in Charleston, who would have had even the presumption to undertake or the courage to execute such an act as his people has assembled to honor Robert Smalls for accomplishing.

The medal is of gold, and bears a representation of the steamer Planter leaving Charleston harbor, when near Sumter. The federal fleet is seen in the distance. On the reverse it bears this inscription:

“Presented to Robert Smalls by the colored citizens of New York, October 2, 1862, as a token of their regard for his heroism, his love of liberty and his patriotism.”

Mr. Smalls responded. He gave a narrative of his escape, that we need not here repeat. Mrs. Smalls and the little boy Robert were presented to the audience. They were greeted with wild and prolonged cheering.

Professor Reason presented a set of resolutions recapitulating the facts; holding that Smalls was a representative man, and asserting the easy possibility of accomplishing emancipation in the rebel states.

After the resolutions were approved, Rev. Mr. Garnett made a brief speech. He had, he said, always hated South Caroline, but he had reason to change his mind if this (Mr. Smalls) was the kind of men she now presented. He urged his people to wait patiently the President’s emancipation policy, which he thought would result in freeing every slave in this country. Mr. Garnett’s remarks, as well as the remarks of all the speakers, were much applauded.

At 11 o’clock the ceremonies of the reception closed with a general handshaking and congratulations.

We understood that Mr. Smalls will proceed to Port Royal on Monday, and that he will become the regular pilot of the Planter, receiving the government pay and allowances. He was, according to the decision of the government, a one-quarter interest in the vessel, equal to $7,000 which will be paid him. It is stated that the authorities of Charleston have offered a reward of $4,000 for Smalls. He does not, however, propose to return to the rebels until his services can be made available in conducting a Union fleet into the harbor of the cradle of the rebellion.