The Scot in America
Introductory

THE Scots in America, with truth, claim to be equally loyal to the land they left and to the land of their adoption. Were it at all necessary to prove how perfectly just is this claim an abundance of evidence could readily be presented. But the claim is generally allowed even by the most rabid believers in "Know Nothingism." From time to time movements have spring up in America directed against a particular race or nationality, but no such attack has ever been made directly or indirectly upon those hailing from Scotland. They have generally been acknowledged as good exemplary citizens, people who had, as a people, no axe to grind, and who in all matters pertaining to America acted as citizens, and from the standpoint of citizenship unswayed by any claims of nationality. No politician, so far as is known, ever figured on "the Scotch vote," nor did any Scotch aspirant for political office ever count on the "solid support" of his countrymen. In all matters pertaining to the country the citizen of Scottish birth completely sinks his own original nationality and takes his place simply and individually with the other citizens in whatever matter is at issue.

The Scots at home somehow do not understand this. They do not see how it is possible for a Scotsman to remain loyal in heart to his own land and yet fight against it's government, as in the time of the Revolutionary War, nor even how a feeling of regard for the old nationality can remain in the breast of one who willingly takes an oath which absolves him from all fealty to the land of his birth.

But the Americans fully understand and appreciate it all, and as a result, no new citizens are more cordially welcomed to the great republic than those who hail from the Land o' Cakes. All over the country the Scot is looked up to with respect. He is regarded as an embodiment of common sense, a natural lover of civil and religious liberty, a firm believer in free institutions, in the rights of man, in fair play, and exemplary in his loyalty to whatever cause he may have adopted. They laugh at his reputed want of wit, at his little idiosyncrasies, at his dourness, at his dogged determination, at his want of artificiality, and several other peculiarities, but admire intensely the effectiveness of his work, the habit he has of "getting there" in whatever he sets out to do, the quiet way in which he so often climbs to the top, whether in banking or professional or military circles, the public-spiritedness he shows in all walks of life and his truly democratic spirit.

The fact is, from the beginning of their history the Scots have been model colonizers and have had the happy faculty of making themselves perfectly at home in all climes and in all circumstances. If we like to believe the earliest traditions, the Scots were originally a tribe of Greece. The tribe went to Egypt and their leader, as might be expected, became commander in chief of the forces in that country and married Scota, the daughter of the Pharaoh who flourished at that time, as was eminently fitting and characteristic. This Scotch warrior and his followers, or some of them, had sense enough not to be caught in the Red Sea when it swallowed up so many Egyptians, and when that catastrophe occurred they left Egypt. Poverty stricken and desolate, the original Scottish chiefs had no further use for the country, and so sought for other fields of usefulness. Making their way to Portugal they settled there, and naturally enough their leading chief, Galethus by name, became King. One of his descendants went to Ireland with a host of followers and became monarch of that unhappy country. They journeyed afterward to Scotland, but where they will go next the believers in this legend do not inform us, although some people assert that the migratory movement has already set in, with America as its objective point. There are other legends of the early wandering habits of the primitive Scots, some of which make them travel from Iceland, from Central Europe, and from Asia, without ever touching at Ireland at all. In fact, by the believers in these last theories the Irish idea is regarded as a national slander. Then if we credit the legend that Gaelic was the language spoken by Adam and Eve while they resided in the Garden of Eden and that Welsh was what they conversed in after their ignominious expulsion from that earthly paradise, we get an idea not only of the high antiquity but of the lost estate of the early Scots.

However we may regard these legends, they all point in an indefinite way to one fact -- and some fact can always be evolved out of the wildest and most incoherent mass of legends -- that the pioneers of the Scottish people of today were wanderers. This characteristic is borne out by their later and better authenticated history. We find them early noted in the military services of the continent of Europe, fighting with courage and fidelity, true soldiers of fortune, under whatever flag they happened to be enrolled, sometimes indeed, as in the case of the famous Scots Guard of France, trusted with interests deemed too sacred for the subjects of the realm they served to protect. We find them, also, occupying leading positions at the various seats of learning, and the history of such institutions as the Scots Colleges at Paris and Rome yet testify to the high regard in which the intellectual qualities of the nation were held even at a time when the general standard of education in Scotland itself was by no means high. There was hardly a position of importance in Europe in which the influence of the Scottish race was not at one time or other more or less directly felt, and what has been called the "ubiquitousness of the Scotch" has given rise to many curious yet amusing stories, which, however, all have more or less truth for their foundation. It is often asserted that when the north pole shall be discovered a Scotchman will be found astride of it, and we have read stories of Chinese mandarins, Turkish pashas, and South Sea Island chiefs who turned out on occasion to be natives of Scotland and proud of their nationality.

A story which illustrates this is given in Peter Buchan's "Historic and Authentic Account of the Ancient and Noble Family of Keith." It refers to an incident in the life of the greatest of the Earls Marischal -- Frederick the Great's most honored Field Marshal. It was copied by Buchan from Dr. James Anderson's "Bee," a forgotten weekly publication issued for three years, between 1790 and 1793. "The Russians and the Turks, in their war, having diverted themselves long enough in murdering one another, for the sake of variety they thought proper to treat of a peace. The commissioners for this purpose were Marshal General Keith (born at Inverugie) and the Turkish Grand Vizier. These two personages met, with the interpreters of the Russ and Turkish betwixt them. When all was concluded they arose to separate; the Marshal made his bow with his hat in his hand, and the Vizier his salaam with turban on his head. But when these ceremonies of taking leave were over, the Vizier turned suddenly, and, coming up to Keith, took him freely by the hand and, in the broadest Scotch dialect, spoken by the lowest and most illiterate of our countrymen, declared warmly that 'it made him very happy, now that he was sae far frae hame, to meet a countryman in his exalted station.' Keith stared with all his eyes, but at last the explanation came and the Grand Vizier told him: "My father was bellman of Kirkcaldy, in Fife, and I remember to have seen you, sir, and your brother occasionally passing.' "

The Scot abroad, however, does not always occupy high places. Sometimes his misses the tide which leads to fortune, but even then his national philosophical spirit does not leave him, and he makes the best of his circumstances, whatever they may be. An instance of this, and beyond question a true one, is given in the Rev. Dr. William Wright's very interesting work on "The Brontes in Ireland." He says: "On the coast of Syria I once arranged with a ragged rascally looking Arab for a row in his boat. My companion was a Scotch Hebrew Professor. It was a balmy afternoon and we enjoyed and protracted our outing. We talked a little to our Arab in Arabic and much about him of a not very complimentary character in our own tongue. I happened to drop some sympathetic words regarding the poor wretch, and suddenly his tongue became loosened in broad Scotch and he told us his story. It was very simple. Twenty years before, the English ship on which he served as a lad had been wrecked at Alexandretta, on the northern coast of Syria. He swam ashore, lived among the peole of the coast till he became one of themselves, and at the time we met him he was the husband of an Arab woman and the father of a dusky progeny. He was content with his squalid existence and never again wished to see his native heather."

The correctness of the last sentence is open to very grave doubt; in fact, it could only have been written by one who did not understand the Scottish character. Doubtless it is true that the Arab boatman did not want to revisit his native land in that character, and with its attendant poverty. But could he have managed to gather a few shekels together, the hope which every Scotsman abroad has in his heart of hearts of returning once more to his native land, even for a brief glimpse, would have been ever present, and ever increasing in intensity, as time passed on.

In spite, however, of their successes abroad, the Scots at home, especially in these later days, do not seem to value the services which their wandering countrymen have rendered to the glory of the old land, and have in fact made its name be honored and respected all over the world. Possibly this arises from a popular misconception of one of Sir Walter Scott's most carefully delineated creations -- Sir Dugald Dalgetty. He has been held up to ridicule as a timeserver, a cut-throat, a man without principle, and an embodiment of self. But there was nothing in his character as portrayed by Sir Walter's matchless pen to indicate that he was anything but the honorable cavalier he invariably described himself as being. His sword was his fortune, and he sold it to the highest bidder, but he never broke an agreement or betrayed a trust. He served the flag under which he was enrolled with the best of his ability, and his crowning hope was to gather enough money to enable him to spend his later years where his life began. His only fault was his poverty, and his life was devoted to the removal of that fault. After all, poverty at home has really been the cause which has always inspired the Scot to roam away from his native land. Said a well-known Scotch banker in New York once to the writer: "_______ is poor, but then we were all poor when we came here. If we had not been poor there is not a Scotsman in the banking business in New York who would ever have dreamed of leaving Scotland. Why should we?"

To the Scot in America, the New World is a practical reality and Scotland a reminiscence, a sentiment. He throws himself with ardor into all things American, gives to it his best endeavors, takes up all the duties of citizenship, and does everything that lies in his power to promote the general wealth of the country by building up its commerce, by developing its resources, and by adding to its higher aspirations by widening and popularizing its educational, artistic, and literary aspirations and opportunities. He becomes an integral part by active citizenship in a commonwealth where the mere knowledge of his nationality secures him at the outset a warm welcome, and is a factor in the individual or general favor which enables him to mount ever higher without eliciting jealousy or ill-feeling or ill-nature on the part of the native element.

But he never forgets Scotland even though it becomes simply a sentiment, although even when the chance comes he does not forsake the interests and friendships which have grown around him and return to his own land, spend his gear, and enjoy a blink of affluent sunset before the darkness of the long night comes on. All over Scotland we find traces of the practical love which the Scot in America entertains for the "Land o' Cakes."

In the parish records of Kirkcudbright is an entry of the sum of L31 being left in 1803 by James R. Smyth of New York, the interest of which was to be devoted to the purchase of Bibles for the poor, and Robert Lenox of the famous New York family of that name was munificient in his gifts to the poor in the Stewartry. Miss Harriet Douglas, afterward Mrs. Congar of New York, gave during her lifetime L100 to the service of the poor in Castle Douglas and Gelston. Mr. John S. Kennedy gave a beautiful piece of statuary to adorn the West End Park of Glasgow, in which city he first learned the elements of business. Mr. Thomas Hope, merchant, New York, bequeathed a considerable sum for the erection and endowment of a hospital in his native place, Langholm, Dumfrieshire, and that charitable foundation, after considerable legal bickering, is now in successful operation. John McNider, once a noted merchant in Quebec, left at his decease L40 to the poor of his native town of Kilmarnock, and another Quebec merchant, John Muir, left L50 to be distributed among the needy in the beautiful Lanarkshire parish of Dalserf, where he started out on the journey of life. Such evidences of kindly remembrance of the old land might be multipled almost indefinitely, and instances are constantly being added, from the munificent donations of Andrew Carnegie, to the smaller sums sent by less affluent but not less kindly wanderers "furth" of Scotland.

A noted Scottish-American benefactor of his native parish was Robert Shedden of Beith, who was born there in 1741 and was the representative of an ancient Ayrshire family. He went to Norfolk, VA., in 1759 and entered into business there as a merchant. He married a Virginia lady and evidently intended to settle permanently in the country. When the Revolution broke out he remained loyal to Britain and was compelled to take refuge with his family on a British vessel, and soon afterward his property in Virginia was confiscated. After a short stay in Bermuda he went to New York, and there remained so long as the city was in the hands of the British. Then he went to England, where he resumed business as a merchant. His death took place in London in 1826. The lands of Gatend, Beith, were purchase by him and transferred to trustees, so that the rent, to the annual value of L50, might be ditributed in annuities not exceeding L10 and not less than L5 among residents of the parish. In connection with the same branch of the Sheddens a celebrated case was tried in the Scotch courts in 1861, in which a romantic story with incidents on both sides of the Atlantic was unfolded. Its occasion was the attempt of an American family of the name to be declared legitimate and so acquire considerable property in Ayrshire. But the attempt was not sustained by the Scotch courts, nor by those in London before which the case was carried on appeal.

In writing of the Scot in America we find the subject so vast that it is difficult to present an adequate view of the theme within the compass of a volume of ordinary size. The materials are so extensive and the subjects are to be found in so many and such varied walks of life that what is here written can only be indicative, or suggestive, of the important services the nationality has performed in the mighty work of building up the North American continent. We find the Scot wherever we turn in banking circles, colleges, legislative halls, pulpits, the fighting and the civil services, in editors' sanctums, merchants' offices, and in the mechanics' workshops and factories. About the only sphere in which  they have not shone is that of the prize ring, although a gang of six New York Bowery toughs once found to their cost that the Scots were born fighters, when a simple looking wayfarer from Stranraer whom they essayed to rob had them all sprawling on the sidewalk in front of him before they exactly realized what had happened. It is very seldom, too, that we hear of a Scot becoming what is known as a practical politician, a political "boss," with all that the designation implies. The nearest approach to it in the knowledge of the writer was the late Police Justice Hugh Gardner of New York, who was for several years regarded as the real leader of the Republican party in that city. Judge Gardner was born at Paisley in 1818, and long carried on business as a dyer in New York in partnership with the late Matthew McDougall, a native of Kilbarchan, who for many years held the office of United States Consul at Dundee. Gardner drifted into politics soon after his arrival here, and was at one time a Police Commissioner, but, although mixed up in all the "deals" and tricks and schemes which then, as now, disgraced local politics in his adopted city, "Hugh," as he was familiary called, passed through them all unscathed in his personal character, and died, as he had lived, with the reputation of an honest politician. He was a warm-hearted man and an enthusiast about Scotland. He delighted, in a quiet way, in doing a good turn to his countrymen, by exerting his influence in getting them appointed to official or other employment over which he had any control; but woe to the misguided wretch who openly boasted that the ties of a common motherland gave him any undue claims for assistance. Such a man in Gardner's eyes was a "fule." The only instance on record when he publicly did a good turn to a Scotsman, as such, was in connection with the first case he tried after his elevation to the bench. The prisoner had been arrested for being "drunk and disorderly," and in a Scotch accent promptly acknowledged his guilt. "Where are ye frae?" asked the Judge. "Frae Paisla," replied the prisoner. "Ye're dischairged, but dinna mak a fule o' yersel again," was the Judge's decision. The next prisoner, a hod-carrier, "with the map of Ireland depicted all over his face," as the Judge said when telling the story afterward,"tried the Paisley game, but I gied him a lang enough sentence to make up for the ither fellow, an' sae justice was satisfied." Hugh Gardner was brusque in his manner, but he was liberal, generous, and sympathetic, and showed these qualities in many ways, but always in each instance with the admonition to "say naething aboot it."

In treating of the influence of the race, the question of what is being done by people of Scottish descent should be borne in mind, although it is difficult at times to trace out the line of descent in a country where few people claim an ancestral tree, and where 99 per cent of the population boast of having Scotch blood in their veins. It is not proposed here to deal with the achievements of others than natives of Scotland except in a few instances which are adduced mainly for the sake of showing that the influence of a Scottish progenitor goes on through many generations. An instance of this, one that most readily occurs at the moment, is that of the American family founded by John Graham.

Mr. Graham was a native of Edinburgh, where he was born in 1694, and claimed descent, whether rightly or wrongly there are no means of determining, from one of the Marquises of Montrose. He was educated for the medical profession at Glasgow, practiced for a short time in Londonderry, and with some emigrants from the North of Ireland crossed the Atlantic in 1718 and took up his residence at Exeter, New Hampshire. While there he studied for the ministry, and in time became a minister at Stafford, Conn. From that charge he resigned for the frankly expressed reason that its emoluments were insufficient for his support, and in 1733 he became pastor of a church at Woodbury, Conn., where he remained for about forty years, or till his death in 1774. Mr. Graham was a powerful and popular preacher and was the author of several works, all of which, being controversial in their nature, are now very properly forgotten. His son, Andrew, was intense in his American patriotism. He was one of the most outspoken advocates for separation from the motherland when the events began which led to the Revolution of 1776, and in the war which accompanied it he took an active part. At the battle of White Plains he was captured by the British, but was released after the surrender of Cornwallis. Later he represented Woodbury for many years in the Connecticut Legislature. One of the sons of this patriot -- Andrew -- became recognized, before his death in 1841, as the most noted criminal lawyer in New York, and yet another son, John Hodges Graham, entered the navy as a midshipman in 1812 and two years later had command of Commodore McDonough's flagship in the famous engagement on Lake Champlain. In 1849 he became a Captain in the American navy, and died, full of years and honors, in 1878. Another grandson of the Scottish preacher, John Lorimer Graham, long a lawyer of eminence in New York, was Postmaster of that city between 1840 and 1844, and his services as such were recognized as being of great value to the community.

Then, too, we find Scotsmen doing good work for the country and for humanity in ways that can hardly be classified for the purposes or scope of this work. A case in point is that of William Steel, once one of the most noted and practical of that band of Abolitionists and social reformers who did so much to mitigate the horrors of slavery, to make it unpopular, and finally were the means of bringing about the removal of that most baneful of institutions from the American social system. Steel was born at Biggar, Lanarkshire, in 1809, and settled in or near Winchester, Va., with his parents, in 1817. Afterward he moved to Ohio. There he was soon noted for his hatred of slavery, and he became one of the most successful workers on the once mysterious "underground railroad" by which so many slaves were carried to places where their liberty was secure, where the words in the Declaration of Independence that "all men are created equal" meant more than a figure of speech or were held to apply to any particular class or race. Steel used to boast that no slave was ever retaken after getting into his hands, and the boast was amply borne out by facts. He had many curious experiences, many hairbreadth escapes while carrying on this humane work, but he passed through them all unscathed. As for many years he was regarded as the leader of the abolitionists in Ohio, he was a marked man and, had circumstances permitted, the slave owners, in Virginia especially, would have made of him a terrible example. Indeed, they at one time offered a reward of $5,000 for his head, but he only laughed at all such evidences of ill-will and even offered to carry his head on his own shoulders into the enemy's territory if the money was placed in responsible hands so that he was sure it would be paid after they had completed their intentions and satisfied their hate. Notwithstanding his engrossing labors in connection with the anti-slavery crusade, Steel acquired a moderate fortune in business, but it was swept away in the financial panic of 1844. He lived to see the principles for which he had worked so hard become completely successful, although at a terrible cost, and the last few years of his life were pleasantly spent with his sons, at Portland, Oregon. There he died in 1881.

Mention might be made here also of another noted abolitionist worker, Judge James Brownlee of Ohio. He was born in a hamlet near Glasgow in 1801, and used to boast that many of his ancestors had fought "For Christ's Crown and Covenant." He settled in the United States in 1827, and three years later his parents and the rest of the family followed him. They bought a beautiful tract of land in Mahoning County, Ohio, and prospered greatly. In his "Historical Collections of Ohio" Henry Howe writes: "For his first thirty years in this country Judge Brownlee was engaged chiefly in the buying and selling of cattle, purchasing yearly thousands and thousands of cows and beeves for the great markets of the West and East. He was always active in politics, an enthusiastic and ardent Whig; but while acting with the Whigs he astonished the Abolitionists by attending an indignation meeting held at Canfield against the passage of the Fugitive Slave law, when he drew up a resolution so audacious that the committee feared to adopt it, it seeming treasonable. He offered it personally, and it was carried in a whirl of enthusiasm. He was 'Resolved, That, come life, come death, come fine or imprisonment, we will neither aid nor abet the capture of a fugitive slave but, on the contrary, will harbor and feed, clothe and assist, and give him a practical godspeed toward liberty.'  * * * Judge Brownlee held many positions of public and private trust. For years he held his life in jeopardy, having repeatedly heard the bullets whistling around his head when obliged to visit certain locailites still remembered for their opposition to the [civil] war and the operations of the revenue system. He died January 20, 1879, at Poland, Ohio. He was a stanch Presbyterian, and his friends were numbered among the rich and the poor, who found in him that faith and charity which make the whole world kin." A daughter of this typical Scot -- Mrs. Kate B. Sherwood -- has contributed several volumes of high-class verse, including many stirring lyrics, to the literature of her own country, the country of her father's adoption.

In quite another although possibly less important department of usefulness old John Allan, the once noted antiquary and book collector, might be recalled. He was born at Kilbirnie, Ayrshire, in 1777. His father was a "small farmer" there and, like most people of his class, had a hard task in constantly wrestling with the soil to produce enough to make ends meet, and so the family became scattered in early life, after their schooling was completed. John crossed the Atlantic in 1794 and, settling in New York, got a position as clerk. Afterward he became a collector of accounts and real estate agent, but he never acquired what would even then be called moderate wealth. Therefore it is extraordinary how he managed to gather such a wonderful variety of curiosities, antiquities and literary treasures of all sorts. His house at 17 Vandewater Street was a veritable museum. It was crowded from cellar to attic with books, pictures and knick-knacks of all ages and countries. Allan had a particular penchant for collecting snuff-boxes -- a hobby which was once a favorite one among Scotch antiquaries -- and his possessions in this field were more numerous than had ever before been gathered together in America. He had also a craze for illustrating books -- a craze which is by no means to be commended, or which would ever be entertained by one who loved literature for its own sake -- and his "illustrated" copies of such works as the life of Washington and the poems of Robert Burns were extraordinary not merely for their bulk, but for the wealth and variety, and sometimes the rarity and uniqueness of the material which had been used in them. The destructiveness of this form of literary amusement, if such it can be called, is fully set forth in a delightful passage on "Grangerites" in John Hill Burton's "Bookhunter," for the hobby is not, as has sometimes been said, an American invention, but had its rise in England, or was at least in vogue there long before it crossed the sea. Allan took no special interest in Scotland, mixed rarely, if ever, among his countrymen in the city in which he had his home, but devoted his time and his means to increasing his collections. After his death they were dispersed at public auction, and realized nearly $38,000.

In studying the history of the Scot in America we come upon many curious facts in the early history of the continent. For instance, the first paper mill ever erected in Canada was due to the business enterprise of James Crooks, a native of Kilmarnock, where he was born in 1778. He was a good soldier as well as business man, and served with distinction in the royal army in the Battle of Queenstown Heights and in other engagements of the War of 1812. Afterward he won eminence as a representative of the people in the legislative chambers of Canada, and died full of years and honors at West Flamborough, Ontario, in 1860. During the course of these pages several other instances will be recorded of the first steps in important industries being undertaken by Scotsmen.

Then knowledge of the race in America comes to us in indirect ways. In the poems of our national bard are several in honor of Miss Jeannie Jaffrey, whose "two lovely een o' bonnie blue" apparently played havoc with the heart of the poet. Miss Jaffrey was the daughter of the Rev. Andrew Jaffrey, minister of Lochmaben. She married a gentleman named Renwick, and, after residing several years in Liverpool, removed with her husband to the United States. Scott Douglas, in his library edition of Burns's poems, says: "Her husband's name was [William] Renwick and her position in the chief city of the United States was one of distinguished respectability. Washington Irving was proud of her friendship and society, and some years after her death, in October, 1850, her memoirs were published along with a collected volume of her writings." Her son James (born in Liverpool) became in 1820 Professor of Natural Philosophy and Chemistry in Columbia College, New York, and was one of the Commissioners who laid out the early boundary line of the Province of New Brunswick and a frequent and welcome writer, mainly on scientific subjects. He died in 1863. One of his sons, Henry B. Renwick, who died in 1895, was a noted engineer and expert in patent cases and was the first Inspector of Steam Vessels for the Port of New York. He was engaged by the United States Government in many important engineering works, notably the construction of the Sandy Hook and Egg Harbor breakwaters. He was also one of the Government surveyors in the matter of fixing the boundary line between Maine and New Brunswick. Another son, James, who also died in 1895, was the architect of Grace Church, the Roman Catholic Cathedral on Fifth Avenue, and other important buildings in New York, the Smithsonian Institution and the Corcoran Gallery, Washington, and of Vassar College. The whole of the Renwick family, however, were of more than ordinary ability, as might be expected from the descendants of a "heroine of Burns," and who was one of the sprightliest and most charming of Scottish-American ladies.

If it was thought necessary to introduce sensational matters in a volume of this kind, very considerable space might be given to the exploits of Allan Pinkerton, the ablest detective who ever assisted justice in America. Sketches of this man's career, however, are plentiful enough, and his successes and experiences have been told in a series of volumes bearing his name, but evidently written by some literary gentleman who seems to have been a believer in the art of embellishing truth with fiction, so much so that it is impossible to know what to regard as truth and what to place to the credit of embellishment. Pinkerton was born at Glasgow in 1819, his father being a policeman. He certainly became the best-known detective in America, acquired a national reputation, in fact, and was a terror to evildoers of all classes. He died at Chicago in 1884.

One Scotsman whose influence is still felt in this country, although not on account of any practical work he did while in it, was John Loudon Macadam. He was born in the parish of Carsphairn, Kirkcudbrightshire, according to the article in the Statistical Account of Scotland on the parish of Carphairn by the Rev. David Welsh. Some authorities state, however, that his birthplace was Ayr, and the date September 21, 1756, and as this claim is also put forward in the volume of the same statistical account relating to that country, an example is afforded of how even an authority can differ on a matter on which no such confusion should exist. That the family belonged to Carsphairn there is no doubt, however, and there was a tradition in it that their original name was MacGregor, that the MacAdams were descended from that once formidable Highland clan, and that the patronymic was assumed when the original name was proscribed by law. Macadam was educated at Maybole, and when a young man was sent, on the death of his father, to an uncle, who was a merchant in New York. He became himself a successful merchant, but as he retained his loyalty at the time of the Revolution, he lost the greater part, if not the whole, of his property. For a time he acted as agent for the sale of prizes at the Port of New York, but in 1783 was compelled to leave the country. He secured an appointment in England and it was while residing at Bristol and holding the office of a local road trustee that he showed his genius for roadmaking and put into effect the system which still bears his name and which is everywhere recognized as the best ever conceived. Its principle is simply to have the roadbed made level and to cover it with about three inches of rock broken into fragments of two cubic inches each. The fame of the roads built under his superintendence and according to his ideas quickly spread all over England, and soon he and his sons had more business on hand as road surveyors and builders than they could easily handle. Mr. Macadam's last years were pleasantly spent in Scotland, where he was recognized as a public benefactor and as a generous-handed friend to the poor. He refused the honor of knighthood, which, however, was bestowed on one of his sons, and in 1836 passed away to his reward, at Moffat, at the ripe age of eighty-one. It is possible that it was the wretched condition of the roads in America, and the fact that the means to improve them were on hand on every side, that first turned his thoughts to the subject of the improvement of public highways. America was slow to appreciate the need and utility of anything beyond a clearing being required for a highway, but now that a demand for "good roads" has sprung up all over the continent, the cry for "macadamized" streets, boulevards and thoroughfares of all sorts shows that the lifework of this ingenious Scot has become an important factor in the current thought and endeavor of the land where he once had his home and where he doubtless intended to round out the entire measure of his existence.

This chapter having dealt in a promiscuous and off-hand sort of way with a few representative Scots in varied walks of life, it may not be out of keeping with its tenor to introduce here notices of one hero who owes his prominence mainly to the caricature of a novelist and of two others who might have claimed to belong to the race, although they are not generally regarded from a Scotch standpoint. In Smollett's novel of "Humphrey Clinker" a peculiar type of Scotsman is introduced -- Lieutenant Lismahago. According to the story, this warrior, while serving in America, was captured by the French and escaped, only to be recaptured by a tribe of Indians. The treatment Lismahago and his companion in misery received at the hands of their savage captors need not be retailed here, but its harrowing details ended with the marriage of the Lieutenant to Squinkinacoosta, the princess of the tribe. "The Lieutenant," according to the novel, "had lived very happily with his accomplished squaw for two years, during which she bore him a son, who is now the representative of his mother's tribe; but at length, to his unspeakable grief, she had died of a fever occasioned by eating too much raw beef which they had killed on a hunting excursion. But this time Mr. Lismahago was elected Sachem, acknowledged first warrier of the Badger tribe, and dignified with the name or epithet of Occacanastaogarora, which signifies 'nimble as a weasel.' " It is said that the original of this Caledonian-Indian Chief was Richard Stobo, a native of Glasgow, where his father was a wealthy merchant. He was born in 1724 and about 1743 went to Virginia, where he engaged in business but without, apparently, meeting with much success. He held a good social position, however, and probably he sacrificed his business prospects to further his military ambition. In 1754 he was appointed Captain in a regiment that was raised to meet the French and of which George Washington was in command. It was Stobo who designed the works which formed the stronghold which Washington grimly called "Fort Necessity," and when it was surrendered Stobo was one of the two hostages given to the French. While in durance at Fort Duquesne, Stobo kept his eyes open, and managed to send his own side of the lines a letter containing a plan of the fort and suggestions for its capture. One part of his letter "breathes a loyal and generous spirit of self-devotion," as Washington Irving says in his life of the first American President. "Consider the good," Stobo wrote, "of the expedition without regard to us. When we engaged to serve the country it was expected we were to do it with our lives. For my part I would die a hundred deaths to have the pleasure of possessing this fort for one day. They are so vain of their success at the Meadows it is worse than death to hear them. Haste to strike."

One of Stobo's letters fell into the hands of his captors, and as a result he and his fellow captive were sent to Quebec. From that fortress he escaped, was captured, and condemned to death as a spy. He again escaped, was recaptured after three days, escaped once more by means of a birch canoe, and in thirty-eight days, after encountering all sorts of adventures, reached the British forces before Louisbourg. During his enforced absence he had been promoted Major in his Virginia regiment, and so much were his services appreciated and his sufferings pitied that the Legislature of that colony voted him a grant of £1,300. Going to England in 1760 Stobo was commissioned Captain in the Fifteenth Infantry and served in the West Indies. Returning to England in 1770 he settled down as a man of leisure, cultivated literature and the friendship of literary men, among others of Tobias Smollett, and published a little book descriptive of his adventures in America, a work which is now very rare. How much of Smollett's descriptions of penury and adventure of which Lismahago is the theme be exactly true, we cannot of course determine, but it is certainly not a very flattering picture for one friend to draw of another, to say nothing of the existence in the heart of the novelist of a sentiment of national price which might have induced a softening of the sketch. Lockhart, in his brilliant life of Burns, excuses or accounts for this peculiar state of things as a sort of deference to the prevailing dislike of Scotsmen entertained in London at the era when Smollett wrote. "A still more striking sign of the times," Lockhart says, "is to be found in the style adopted by both of these novelists, (Dr. Moore and Smollett), especially the great masters of the art, in their representations of the manners and characters of their own countrymen. In 'Humphrey Clinker,' the last and best of Smollett's tales, there are some traits of a better kind. but, taking his works as a whole, the impression it conveys is certainly a painful, a disgusting one. * * * When such high-spirited Scottish gentlemen, possessed of learning and talents, and, one of them at least, of splendid genius, felt or fancied the necessity of making such submissions to the prejudices of the dominant nation, and did so without exciting a murmur among their own countrymen, we may form some notion of the boldness of Burns's experiment, and in contrasting the state of things then with what is before us now it will cost no effort to appreciate the nature and consequences of the victory in which our poet let the way, by achievements never in their kind to be surpassed."

But however the personality of the doughty Lieutenant may be obnoxious to us, and however much it may belie the fair name or distort the true story of the career of Richard Stobo, many originals for such stories may be found in the early history of the Indian tribes of North America; that is, their early history so far as their associations with Europeans go. One of the more noted chiefs of the Creek nation -- one of the most powerful on the continent -- in the eighteenth century was Alexander McGillivray. His father was Lachlan McGillivray, a native of Mull and said to have belonged to the house of McGillivray of Dunmaglas -- a branch of the Clan Chattan -- probably on account of the same degree of relationship that makes all Stewarts "sib" to the King. Alexander's mother was a Creek princess whose father had been a French officer of Spanish descent, so that Alexander had Scotch, Indian, Spanish and French blood in his veins, and as his uncle, his father's brother, was a Presbyterian minister at Charleston and a member of the St. Andrew's Society there, he could boast, at least, that he was respectably connected. McGillivray was a genius, a born diplomat, a natural leader, and in time became acknowledged as a supreme head of his tribe. He was by turns a speculator, merchant, politician, diplomatist, and always a warrior. He was well educated, his early years having been passed under the care of his uncle the clergyman, and it was expected that he would, on reaching manhood, cling to his father's people. But he preferred his maternal relatives and returned to the haunts and adopted the ways of the Indians so completely that he became not only their most trusted leader, but the virtual autocrat of the Creek nation and its allies.

McGillivray once visited New York, in 1790, in his capacity of leader of the Creeks, and the incidents attending that visit are thus told in Booth's history of that city, "Colonel Marinus Willet * * * invited McGillivray to go with him to New York to talk with the Great Father. To this proposal McGillivray consented, and set out in the beginning of the Summer, accompanied by twenty-eight chiefs and warriors of the nation. Their arrival excited considerable interest in the city. On landing they were met by the Tammany Society, arrayed in Indian costume, which escorted them to their lodgings on the banks of the North River, at the tavern known henceforth as "The Indian Queen." Here they remained for more than six weeks, negotiating the terms of a treaty with General Knox, and, the matter being at length satisfactorily arranged, the treaty was ratified in true Indian style in Wall Street on the 13th of August. At 12 o'clock the Creek deputation was met by the President and his suite in the Hall of the House of Representatives, where the treaty was read and interpreted, after which Washington addressed the warriors in a short but emphatic speech, detailing and explaining the justice of its provisions; to each of which, as it was interpreted to them, McGillivray and his warriors gave the Indian grunt of approval. The treaty was then signed by both parties, after which Washington presented McGillivray with a string of wampum as a memorial of the peace, and with a paper of tobacco as a substitute for the ancient calumet, grown obsolete and unattainable by the innovations of modern times. McGillivray made a brief speech in reply, the 'shake of peace' was interchanged between Washington and each of the chiefs, and the ceremony was concluded by a song of peace, in which the Creek warriors joined with enthusiasm. The warriors indeed had good reason to be satisfied with this treaty, which ceded to them all the disputed territory and distributed presents and money liberally among the nation. * * * The visit of the Indians closed the official career of New York as the capital city of the United States."

According to all accounts, McGillivray was a brave man, had wonderful powers of endurance, and possessed all the noted Indian traits of stolidity and deception in abundance. His enemies never knew very well what to make of him, but all courted his friendship as long as possible, and he was probably the only man who ever lived who at one and the same time was a British Colonel, a Spanish General, and a General in the forces of the United States. With all his brilliant qualities, however, he had few admirers, and one of his adversaries, Gen. Robertson, summed up his character in these unmistakable words: "The Spaniards are devils, but the biggest devil among them is the half Spaniard, half Frenchman, half Scotsman, and altogether Creek scoundrel, McGillivray." This redoubted warrior died in Florida in 1793.

Quite a similar case in many ways was that of William McIntosh, another Creek chief, who was born in Georgia in 1775. His father was a Highland officer and his mother a Creek princess. He cast in his lot with his mother's tribe and became its chief. During the war of 1812 he fought against the British and held the dignity of Major in the United States Army. He was one of the first Indians to perceive that the white man had taken possession of the country for good, and the policy of his life seems to have been to conciliate the whiteskins and to live with them on the best terms attainable. This policy, undoubtedly the most far-sighted and prudent that could have been adopted, led to his death, for he was assassinated in his native State in 1825 by some Indians who were opposed to an agreement he had entered into which involved the selling of some of the lands held by the Creeks to the United States Government.

Many weird tales are yet told along the eastern coast of the wild doings of Capt. Kidd, many romances have been evolved out of his career, romances which have terrified the nursery and aroused the sympathetic ardor of lovers of fiction in the parlor. Thousands of dollars, too, have been spent in the search after Capt. Kidd's treasures, and hardly a Summer passes without bringing us a story or two of expeditions being organized. William Kidd was born at Greenock about 1650, and was, it is said, the son of a clergyman. Of his early training and career nothing is known. The first authentic glimpse we get of him is from the records of the New York Colonial Assembly for 1691, when on one occasion he was thanked for services rendered the commerce of the colony, and on another when £150 was voted him for similar services. What these were is not exactly clear, but it has been surmised, and the surmise is plausible, that he acted as a sort of protector to the coast commerce from pirates and unlawful depredators. In 1696, Capt. Kidd was placed by Gov. Bellamont in command of a vessel, with the view of sweeping the coast of pirates, and he did his work so well that after his first cruise he was awarded a fresh grant of money, this time of £250. Then he started on another cruise, and leaving the coast, started out as a priate on his own account. He sailed to the Indian Ocean, made Madagascar his headquarters, and committed such depredations, scuttling, stealing, and robbing ships, that his name became famous and feared throughout the maritime world. After a time he returned to American, and it is said, had any number of hiding places along the seaboard. His headquarters, were, however, mainly on Long Island, and for safe keeping he is reported to have buried his treasures in different localities, but where has been the puzzle to succeeding generations of those acquainted by reading or tradition with his career. The stories in connection with this section of Capt. Kidd's life story are of the most vague and unintelligible order, but the following from the pen of Mr. D. W. Stone of the New York "Commercial Advertiser" is as moderately written and as reliable as anything that has appeared:

"It is beyond doubt true that Long Island contained several of his hiding places. 'Kidd's Rock' is well known at Manhasset, up on Long Island, to this day. Here Kidd is supposed to have buried some of his treasures, and many have been the attempts of the credulous in that section to find the hidden gold. There is also no doubt that he was wont to hide himself and his vessel among those curious rocks in Sachem's Head Harbor, called the 'Thimble Islands.' In addition to the 'Pirates' Cavern,' in this vicinity, there is upon one of these rocks, sheltered from the view of the Sound, a beautiful artificial excavation in an oval form, holding, perhaps, the measure of a barrel still called 'Kidd's Punch Bowl.' It was here, according to the traditions of the neighborhood, that he used to carouse with his crew. It is also a fact beyond controversy that he was accustomed to anchor his vessel in Gardner's Bay. Upon an occasion in the night he landed upon Gardner's Island and requested Mrs. Gardner to provide a supper for himself and his attendants. Knowing his desperate character, she dared not refuse, and, fearing his displeasure, she took great pains, especially in roasting a pig. The pirate chief was so pleased with her cooking that on going away he presented her with a cradle blanket of gold cloth. It was of velvet inwrought with gold and very rich. A piece of it yet remains in the possession of the Gardner family, and a still smaller piece is in my possession, it having been given to my father, the late Col. William L. Stone, by one of the descendants of that family. On another occasion, when he landed upon the island, he buried a small casket of gold containing articles of silver and precious stones in the presence of Mr. Gardner, but under the most solemn injunctions of secrecy.

"Repairing, soon after this occurrence, to Boston, where Lord Bellamont chanced to be at the time, he was summoned before His Lordship and ordered to give a report of his proceedings since he had sailed on his second voyage. Refusing, however, to comply with this demand, he was arrested on the 3d of July, 1699, on the charge of piracy. He appears to have disclosed the fact of having buried treasure on Gardner's Island, for it was demanded by the Earl of Bellamont and surrendered by Mr. Gardner. I have seen the original receipts for the amount, with the different items of the deposits. They were by no means large, and afford no evidence of such mighty 'sweepings of the sea' as have been told of by tradition. Of gold, in coins, gold dust and bars, there were 750 ounces; of silver, 506 ounces, and of precious stones, 16 ounces."

But there are hundreds of places along the Hudson and the New England and the New Jersey coasts where search has been made for more treasure, and at Asbury Park may still be seen steel diving rods which were once used by experts who located one or more of the pirate's chests where Ocean Grove and Bradley Beach are now located.

Kidd was sent to Britain in 1701, tried for piracy on the high seas, and also for murder, and with six of his crew, was hanged in chains at Execution Dock, London, in the same year. The news of his fate recalled attention to his exploits, and the notoriety of his name increased, and rumor magnified his daring, his crimes, his depredations and everything connected with him a thousandfold, and even formed themes for a score or so of ballads. So far as we know, he was the only Scottish-American who ever was celebrated by the rhymes of the sheet vocalist and wandering minstrels of the curb and kitchen.

Of course, nothing can be said in defense of piracy, and even though Kidd was guiltless of the crime of murder or of any of the acts of cruelty and barbarism attributed to him, his course as an adventurer on the high seas would still leave his memory badly tarnished. Robbery is plain, vulgar robbery, whether committed on land or sea. It is a pity, however, that more of the history of this redoubtable pirate was not known, for we are convinced that his character would appear in a more amiable light under the microscope of truth than it seems in the misty haze of tradition. Indeed, we fancy it would then be seen that the services for which the New York Legislature granted him gifts of money were really little short acts of piracy in whose proceeds they shared and which they negatively authorized. "Connivance at piracy," writes Mr. Ellis H. Roberts, in his interesting volumes on the history of the State of New York, "was a charge not infrequent against prominent persons in the Colonies at this time (around 1700). Privateering was encouraged by the Government, and reputable persons became partners in vessels sent out under daring sailors to secure prizes. The sailors did not always observe nice distinctions when such captures were possible, and privateering not infrequently fell more and more into audacious piracy. * * * He (Capt. Kidd) cannot have deemed himself a criminal in any great degree, if at all, for, after selling his ship, he appeared openly in Boston, where the Earl of Bellamont recognized him and put him under arrest." The trouble with Kidd was that the stories of his having hidden treasure withdrew from him the support of his confederates among the authorities. As modern Amiercans would say, he lost his "pull," and so his power. In considering the case of Capt. Kidd we should remember that among his partners in his privateering expeditions were such men as King William, the Earl of Bellamont, and Robert Livingston, and while this does not justify Kidd's conduct in any way, it makes him simply a spoke in a wheel which he had cut out and fashioned for himself.

We cannot close this chapter with such a dubious character as a representative of the nationality, and therefore, as a sort of redeeming offset, turn to the long list of heroes for an example or two, and this we do with the more readiness, as the chapter which will deal with heroes will treat mainly of those who fought on the popular side during the War of the Revolution.

In the early history of the United States and Canada, Highlanders, as we have seen and will frequently be reminded in the course of this volume, were welcomed as settlers, and in many places, as in Nova Scotia, Cape Breton, Glengarry, North Carolina, and around Caledonia, N.Y., as well as in other localities, the direct descendants of these pioneer immigrants from Albyn may yet be found. In many places they yet speak the language of their ancestors; in others they are still distinguished by their manners, their ways, their industry, thrift, and godliness. Several bands of Highlanders came over here in military service, and their prowess, endurance, skill, and intrepidity are freely acknowledged in the ordinary histories. Such was notably the case in Canada with Fraser's Highlanders, and in the other colonies, as well as in America, with the Black Watch. But there were other Highland soldiers whose deeds were equally worthy of record with those generally mentioned; but they are simply spoken of as Highlanders without any more definite designation.

Such was the case with as gallant a band as ever maintained the name of the Scottish soldier in foreign lands -- Montgomerie's Highlanders. Famous as they were in their day, they are now practically forgotten; but there are few commands which earned a better record as soldiers and as men. They were formally enrolled as the Seventy-seventh Regiment, and were only in existence some six years when they were disbanded. Thus in glancing over their career we can start out with them on their campaign and remain with them until their flags were finally furled without undertaking a very considerable task. Their history is a brief one; but, brief as it is, there is no lack of incident in the story. It is full of interest from beginning to end for Highlanders everywhere, and particularly for all who love to read about the early doings of the Scot in America.

In 1756, after considerable wirepulling, Major Archibald Montgomerie got permission to raise a regiment of Highlanders for service in North America. So successful was he that he soon was at the head of a body of about 1,400 officers and men, and in January, 1757, he received his commission as Colonel. Col Montgomerie was a military man of great promise and was very popular among all classes. He was a son of the ninth Earl of Eglinton, and ultimately succeeded to that title himself. His father, of course, was a nobleman, but he was one of those aristocrats who believed the country was made expressly for their benefit. He was a shrewd business man, it is said, made three fortunate marriages, turned everything into cash, and even sold his vote to England for £200, at the time the Treaty of Union was being considered. Col. Montgomerie's mother, the Countess Susannah, was one of the most beautiful women of her time, and was noted for her wit and her love of literature. It was to her that Allan Ramsay dedicated his "Gentle Shepherd." Col. Montgomerie appears to have inherited the qualities which made his mother so popular and so generally beloved, without any of the sordid spirit which was his father's main characteristic.

The regiment embarked at Greenock in 1758. Its officers, with two exceptions, all bore good old Highland names -- as Grant, Campbell, Mackenzie, Macdonald, and the like. The two exceptions were the Colonel and his young kinsman, Capt. Hugh Montgomerie, who in turn succeeded to the earldom. The regiment landed at Halifax and was at once sent en route to Fort Duquesne (Pittsburgh) as part of a force which was to capture the stronghold from the French or their Indian allies. It was a terrible journey at that time, but the Highlanders stood its fatigues and dangers nobly, although there is no doubt they were glad when they reached Philadelphia and enjoyed a brief season of rest in its new and comparatively comfortable barracks before starting out again for their destination.

The Philadelphia barracks extended between Second and Third Streets, from St. Tamany to Green Street, and the buildings were arranged in the form of a hollow square. The officers' section faced on Third Street, and consisted of a large three-story brick house, while the soldiers' quarters were two stories high, and of wood, with a veranda running on a level with the second floor. In the centre of the square was a drillyard, or parade ground. Many Highland regiments were quartered there from first to last, and at times, when its accommodations were overtaxed, the officers took rooms in the house of a Scotch widow, Mrs. Cordon, who kept a high-class boarding establishment for many years on Front Street. It is said that at one time her house was filled with the officers of the Forty-second Highlanders. The barracks, which seem to have been first occupied by Montgomerie's regiment, have been built over long ago.

The expedition against Fort Duquesne was an imposing one, as such things went in those days. Gen. Forbes was in chief command, and one of the officers was George Washington, who rendered good service by his knowledge of the country. The first stopping place for more than a night was Raystown, ninety miles from the fort. From there a smaller expedition was sent on to Loyal Hannen, fifty miles from Duquesne, and in this expedition were Montgomerie's Highlanders. From Hannen a still smaller expedition set out commanded by James Grant of Ballindalloch, Major in the Highland regiment. He had with him some 400 of his own comrades and 500 Colonial troops. Having no knowledge of Indian warfare, Major Grant advanced upon the fort in grand style, with drums beating and pipes playing. The soldiers in the fort made a gallant resistance, and being helped by a large band of Indians, poured a terrible fire into the ranks of the invaders, while they themselves were protected by the foliage of the surrounding forest. It was an awful massacre. The Highlanders were unaccustomed to fight an unseen enemy, and when it was found useless to continue the contest any longer, 230 of them were lying on the field, dead or wounded. Only 150 made their way back to Loyal Hannen. Several were taken prisoners by the Indians, who at once set about killing them with all the atrocities for which those redskins were famous. After seeing a dozen of his comrades butchered with the most horrible cruelty, one of the Highlanders, Allan Macpherson, revolved a little scheme in his mind. When his turn came he told his captors that he knew the secret of an herb, which, when applied to the skin, would make it resist the strongest blow from sword, knife, or tomahawk. An herb of this sort was the very thing the Indians wanted, and they agreed to let him go to the woods, under escort, to gather the herb, the conditions being that he should rub the stuff on his own neck and so prove its efficiency. Macpherson gathered some roots, boiled them, and then, anointing his neck with the liquid, declared himself ready, and invited the strongest man to try to break his skin. A most powerful Indian stepped forward and with one terrific blow cut Macpherson's head off and sent it flying through the air for several yards. The Indians then understood that the Highlander had outwitted them, and escaped the lingering death to which he had been doomed. It is said that they were so pleased with his ingenuity that they desisted from inflicting further cruelties upon the remaining prisoners.

Disastrous as was the fate of this adventure, the defenders of Fort Duquesne, however, saw that they had a determined force to deal with, and so when the main body of the invading expedition came up they evacuated their stronghold, leaving behind them their cannon, stores, and provisions. Gen. Forbes, on taking possession, changed the name of the place to Pittsburgh. There the Highlanders enjoyed another respite from field service.

In May, 1759, they were part of Gen. Amherst's forces at Ticonderoga, and along Lake Champlain and Lake George, and then returned to Pennsylvania and marched in fighting order as far as the border of Virginia. Their numbers during these campaigns were not strengthened by recruits from Scotland or elsewhere; but they certainly made up in determination, courage, and endurance for their want of numbers. They were now veteran campaigners, and as careful of ambuscades as before they were careless. They understood Indian fighters and methods as well as any battalion of frontier scouts. As usual, too, with Highland regiments, even to this day, the more dangerous and difficult the task the more certain was it to be allotted to them by whoever was commander in chief.

Such a task was the expedition to Martinique, in which Montgomerie's Highlanders and the Forty-second (Black Watch) next took the most important part. When that trouble was over, both these regiments went to New York, and Montgomerie's men remained there, while the Forty-second was sent to Albany. Two companies of Montgomerie's regiment, which had previously been detached from the main body, had formed part of a force which was sent to St. John's, Newfoundland, to capture that town from the French. When this was accomplished the two companies -- or what was left of them -- rejoined the rest of the regiment in New York, where the Winter of 1762 was passed. Next Spring peace was declared between Great Britain and France, and the former became mistress of the French colonies in America. Then Montgomerie's Highlanders were disbanded, and, while some of the veterans returned to their "ain countrie," not a few took advantage of the offer of grants of land and settled in America.

Such in brief is the story of an old Highland regiment, whose doings are well worthy of being recalled. They who fought in it were an honor to the country which sent them forth, and their deeds at Pittsburgh, as well as at Ticonderoga and elsewhere, entitle them to a prominent place in the long list of Scotland's military heroes.

It would be an interesting study to follow the fortunes of the gallant Black Watch in North America, or to relate the stirring story of such regiments as the old Seventy-first, but such records would occupy a volume in telling, and even a recapitulation of them would swell this work beyond due proportions. This is all the more unnecessary as the records of such commands are easily accessible.

As an example of the men who fought in these commands, we select the name of John Small, who was born at Strathardale, Perthshire, in 1720, and died at Guernsey, with the rank of Major General, in 1796. Early in life he entered the army, and his career throughout was an eventful one. He first saw service with the Scotch Brigade in the Dutch Army, and then received an ensigncy in the Black Watch, being promoted to Lieutenant soon after joining that corps. He was under Abercrombie in the attack on Ticonderoga in 1758, was in Montreal two years later, and then went to the West Indies, where he won his Captaincy. In 1775, after holding a commission for a short time in the Twenty-first Regiment, he was commissioned Major in the Second Battalion of the regiment known as the Royal Highland Emigrants, raised in Nova Scotia to aid the Crown, and was present at the battle of Bunker Hill. In Trumbull's painting of that skirmish, Major Small's figure occupies a prominent place. This regiment, mention of which is again made in the  closing chapter of this volume, was named the Eighty-fourth, and Small was continued in command of the Second Battalion, and with it served mainly in the State of New York under Sir Henry Clinton. The regiment was disbanded in 1783, after the conclusion of hostilities, and many of the officers and soldiers in Small's battalion retired to Nova Scotia, where they received grants of land -- 5,000 acres to a field officer, 3,000 to a Captain, 500 to a subaltern, 200 to a Sergeant, and 100 to a private. Before leaving America Small was gazetted a Lieutenant Colonel and was Military Governor of the Island of Guernsey at the time of his death.

So much for an officer. In an old issue of the London magazine, "The Humanitarian," we read an account of one of those who served in the ranks in the same campaign, under Sir Henry Clinton, with Major Small. As the story is interesting, we quote it in full:

"An old Highland soldier -- Sergt. Donald Macleod, of the Forty-second Highlanders -- was in 1791 an out-pensioner of Chelsea Hospital, in the one hundred and third year of his age. This veteran was a native of Skye, born at Ulinish on the 20th of June, 1688, as appears from the parish register of Bracadale. He enlisted in the Royal Scots, and his first campaign was under Marlborough in 1704-13, where he served with his regiment in the battles of Blenheim, Ramillies, &c.; he was in the Hanoverian Army in 1715, and greatly distinguished himself against his own countrymen at Sheriffmuir; he then saw foreign service again at the battle of Fontenoy; after this we find that he was in America under Gen. Wolfe. At the battle of Quebec Sergt. Macleod had his shin bone shattered by grape shot, and received a musket ball in his arm; but when Gen. Wolfe was seriously wounded the old soldier offered his plaid, in which his beloved commander was borne to the rear by four Grenadiers. Owing to his wounds Macleod was invalided, and returned to England in November, 1759, in the frigate that bore the body of Gen. Wolfe. On arriving in England he was admitted an out-pensioner of Chelsea Hospital on the 4th of December, 1759. His wounds soon healed, and he went on a recruiting expedition to the Highlands, where he married his third wife. Although now seventy-two years of age, he again took to the wars on the outbreak of hostilities, and served as a volunteer under Col. Campbell on the Continent, and in the course of different engagements during the campaign of 1760-61 he was wounded several times. Even these hard knocks were not sufficient to end the old man's military career, as we find him again in America under Sir Henry Clinton."

Passing over the kittle times of the Revolution and the War of 1812, we find many instances of the continuity of the heroic side of the story of Scotland's sons in America. Take the career of Col. John Munroe as one which is an example of a thousand others, too soon, alas, forgotten. Monroe was born in Ross-shire in 1796 and settled in America with his parents when a boy. In 1814 he graduated at West Point and was appointed to the United States Army as a Third Lieutenant. Promotion in Uncle Sam's Army, except at fortunately rare intervals, is rather slow, and it was not till 1825 that Munroe received his commission as Captain. In 1838, for brilliant services against the Florida Indians, he was brevetted Major, and in 1846 was appointed Major in the Second Artillery. That same year he was Gen. Zachary Taylor's Chief of Artillery, and was brevetted Lieutenant Colonel for gallantry at Monterey, and Colonel for his services at Buena Vista. For over a year (1849-1850) he was military and civil Governor of New Mexico, and made an admirable Executive. After retiring from the army he took up his residence in New Brunswick and died there in 1861.

This warrior's death brings us down to the opening of the great civil war -- a conflict in which, on both sides, Scotsmen exhibited the native valor of their country. We cannot even estimate the number of Scotsmen who took part in that political convulsion -- possibly 50,000 would be under the mark -- as the volunteer records at Washington do not define nationality. But it is acknowledged on all sides that Scotsmen did their full duty according to their consciences, whether they wore blue or gray.

One of the earliest commands to answer the call of President Lincoln was the Highland Guard of Chicago, which was originally formed in 1855. It commenced its term of active service in 1861, under Capt. J. T. Raffen, and made a brilliant record. Its first commander was John McArthur, who was born at Erskine in 1826, and was originally a boilermaker. In the civil war he bore himself with great gallantry and rose step by step until he was brevetted Major General at the battle of Nashville for conspicuous bravery. After the war he returned to Chicago and entered into business, which was interrupted by his four-year term of service as Postmaster of Chicago, an office he administered with great tact and executive ability.

Another Scotsman who rose to the rank of General in the civil war was Gen. James Lorraine Geddes, who died at Ames, Iowa, in 1887. There were many, very many, Scotch field officers in the war, so many that it seems somewhat invidious to single out any one, but Gen. Geddes had such a varied career and, on the whole, was so typically representative of the Scot abroad that we cannot refrain from relating its most salient points. It is very few nationalities that can point to a son who begins life as a private soldier and ends as the President of a college. Geddes was born at Edinburgh in 1829, and in 1837 was taken by his father to Canada. As soon as he was old enough, after he had received his schooling, he went to sea. But he soon got tired of that life, and while in Calcutta, enlisted in the Royal Artillery. He fought under Sir Charles Napier and Sir Colin Campbell in the Crimea, and received the regulation silver medal and clasp. When he was discharged he made his way back to Canada, where after a time, he was elected Colonel in a local cavalry organization. In 1857 he left the Dominion and settled at Vinton, Iowa, where he got employment as a teacher. When the civil war broke out he enlisted (Aug. 8, 1861,) as a private in the Eighth Iowa Volunteers, and went to the front. His promotion, as might be expected from his past experience, was rapid, and by 1865 he had passed upward through all the intermediary grades and was brevetted a Brigadier General. He was wounded at Shiloh, and was once taken prisoner, but soon exchanged, and he served under Grant at Vicksburg and under Sherman at Jackson, Miss. While acting as Provost Marshal at Memphis, he saved that city from being taken by the Confederate forces under Gen. Forrest, and during the Mobile campaign his capture of Spanish Fort was regarded as the most brilliant feat of that chapter in the history of the great interstate struggle. When the war was over Gen. Geddes returned to Vinton, and for some time had charge of the blind asylum there, but his later years were identified with the Iowa Collage, at Ames, in which, besides directing in an executive capacity, he was Treasurer and Professor of Military Tactics. He was a poet as well as a soldier and teacher, and wrote several popular war songs, among which "The Soldiers' Battle Prayer" and "The Stars and Stripes" are still remembered and have won a place among the national songs of America.

This record of men and war may fittingly terminate with a reference to the Seventy-ninth Highlanders of New York, which made a record worthy of auld Scotia in the civil war. The nucleus of this command was a company called the Highland Guard, which, with uniforms patterned after the Black Watch, used to delight the eyes of the Scotch residents of New York in the fifties. The regiment was practically organized in 1861 and promptly offered its services to the national Government. It was accepted, and it fought through the entire struggle, "fighting more battles and marching more miles than any other New York regiment," as the State record sums up its story. Its first Colonel, Cameron, was killed at the first battle of Bull Run, and it was afterward commanded by several noted officers. On the conclusion of peace the regiment returned to New York, was mustered out of service and at once enrolled as a State regiment of militia. It was finally mustered out in 1875, when under the command of Col. Joseph Laing, a native of Edinburgh, and a good soldier. The deeds of this gallant regiment have been fully told in a portly volume, and thus a knowledge of the details of its campaigns is fairly on record and can be read by all Scots who desire additional topics for illustration of Scottish heroism on American soil.

Probably the central figure of the Seventy-ninth Highlanders -- the fighting Seventy-ninth -- during the war was Col. David Morrison, who died in New York in February 1896. His career is an illustration of that of hundreds of good men who took up arms in response to the call from Washington at the outbreak of the civil war. David Morrison was born at Glasgow in 1823, and learned the trade of a brassfounder. After a short term in the British Army, Morrison settled in New York and soon started in business. When the war broke out he went with the Seventy-ninth to the front as one of its Captains, and steadily rose until he was made Colonel, and commanded the regiment. He proved a brilliant leader and his personal bravery was beyond question. His men loved him, trusted him, and executed whatever order he gave unquestioningly, and he was the personal friend of every man who marched under the Seventy-ninth's banners. He, with the regiment, and while acting as commander of a brigade, took part in many battles and skirmishes, and the story of their campaigns is one of the most wonderful in the history of the conflict. When the struggle was over, Col Morrison returned to New York with the brevet rank of Brigadier General, and again resumed his business, prospering day after day -- as he deserved. Except to attend a meeting of the Seventy-ninth veterans, or a St. Andrew's Society dinner, he devoted his spare time to his home and family, and was rarely seen at public gatherings. But he gave away liberally in charity, and many a war veteran was helped over an emergency by his thoughtful generosity. "A brave soldier, a good man, and a Christian gentleman" was what one of his comrades said in speaking of his merits when the news of his death became public, and a whole volume of anecdote could not more fittingly or truthfully describe the man.

We give one anecdote, as it occurred long after the tie between Gen. Morrison and the Seventy-ninth had become merely one of sentiment, and shows that his heart continued warm to his old comrades until the end, for the incident occurred only a few years before his death. "A year or two ago," says our informant,  writing in 1896, "the members of old St. Andrew's Division in the course of their temperance work, learned of the case of an old member of the Seventy-ninth Regiment who was steadily 'going down into the depths' from a love for liquor. The man held a fair social position, had a luxuriously furnished home, a good business, and but for 'the drink' would have had a happy life all round. The St. Andrew's men who were interested in the case pleaded with the man, but to no avail. Then it was suggested that Gen. Morrison should be told of the matter and his aid invoked. The trouble was laid before him and he at once willingly volunteered to accompany the division folk on a night that was designated. When the night arrived, however, it was feared that the General would not turn up. It was one of those Winter evenings when it was raining one minute, freezing the next, and with an interval of sleet between. The streets were slippery, the rain was drenching, and those who knew how fond Gen. Morrison was of his home did not believe it possible that he would venture out. But, exact to the moment agreed upon, he turned up at the home of the then head of the division, Mr. Thomas Cochrane, plumber, a native of Glasgow, and when wonder was expressed at his presence under the circumstances he said he felt that a duty had been assigned to him and it would take queer weather to make him fail. It was not long before we were in the home of the man we were trying to aid, and without any preliminary fencing, the General quietly opened fire. He did not say much, but what he did say was so sincere, so evidently from the heart, that in a very short time the man was in tears and promised no only to abstain, but to join the division. We do not wish to repeat what was said, for the proceedings were private, but we never heard a shorter or better temperance lecture than the General gave. It was practical, kindly, and touching. After the promise was given we spent a very happy night, and when we were escorting the General to the cars he expressed the pleasure he would feel if he thought he had been of service, and said St. Andrew's Division had a right to call on him or any one else to help in its work. Perhaps had New York contained more Scotsmen of his stamp the division might have been alive to-day. The strange thing was that none of us ever questioned whether Gen. Morrison was himself a teetotaller or not. We had implicit faith that he would help us to do what was right and that such a faith existed is as green a wreath as can be placed on the grave where now, alas! rest his honored remains."

It is interesting to know how widely scattered become the members of a command like the Seventy-ninth after fighting together for nearly four years in defense of the Union. The veterans' organization of the old soldiers of the regiment numbers 168 members at present. The number is decreasing yearly, but that, in the nature of things, is to be expected. The following notes of the present whereabouts and standing of several of the best known of the veterans is taken from the "New York Scottish-American," the information being called forth in connection with the death of Gen. Morrison. "Col. Joseph Laing was Captain of G Company when the regiment first went to the front. He was wounded on several occasions -- once severely -- and his comrades are unanimous in bearing testimony to the pluck and soldierly qualities he showed on the field. His place of business at the corner of Fulton and Water Streets, this city, where he is an engraver and print-seller, has long been a house of call, both for old members of the regiment and soldiers belonging to other corps. Col. A. D. Baird is a properous citizen of Brooklyn. A few years ago he was the Replublican candidate for Mayor, and at present he is a Commissioner for the new East River bridge. Along with his son, he carries on extensive stone works in the Eastern District. He is, now that Gen. Morrison has gone, the association's best friend, Capt. Robert Armour, again, is at the head of an important bureau in the Quartermaster's Department of the War Office at Washington. Mr. Crammond Kennedy, the Chaplain of the regiment, who was once known as the "boy preacher," now practices law with success at the national capital. Major Hugh Young, who is a resident of this city, has acquired a competency from a patent of his invention which is used in all stone yards. Dr. David McKay has a good practice as a physician in Dallas, Texas, and Dr. Charles E. Locke is the owner of silver mines in Colorado, and a member of the State Senate. Lieut. D. G. Falconer, who lost a leg in the war, is a prominent lawyer in Lexington, Ky. Mr. Thomas Moore, who was President of the assiciation when it visited Louisville, is a manufacturer of horse collars in Pearl Street, this city. He is prominent in the Masonic fraternity, and has been honored with some high offices in the brotherhood, being at present Trustee of its hall and asylum. William Webster, who was a private in the regiment, went after the war to the Old Country, and became a Captain in the Coldstream Guards, a position which he only recently resigned. Mr. John Spence, who was also a private, has a large and profitable plumbing business in the upper part of this city. Sergt. James McLean is a manufacturer of ice-boxes and butchers' fixtures, his works being in Eleventh Avenue. Private John H. Grant was for more than twenty-five years a police Sergeant, and is now Acting Captain at One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street. Sergt. Major Joseph Stewart, having faithfully served the city for more than twenty years in the Police Department, is now a retired Sergeant, and a respected and trusted employe of the Nassau Trust Company of Brooklyn. A good number of the other members also reside in this city and neighborhood, among them Adjt. Gilmour, is connected with the business of his father-in-law, the late Gen. Morrison; Capt. John Glendinning is employed by the Board of Works, Capts, Thomas Barclay, F. W. Judge, and Robert Gair live in Brooklyn; Capt. William Clark is employed in the Post Office here, Lieut. John S. Dingwall resides up town, and Mr. J. S. Martin, popularly known as 'Crackers,' keeps his comrades in a state of merriment at all their social gatherings. Mr. Malcolm Sinclair, who was well known here, is now at Cumberland, Md. The rest of the veterans are scattered far and wide over the country. There are a good number in Staten Island, several in Chicago, some in the Soldiers' Homes at Hampton, Va., Kearny, N.J., or elsewhere. Some are living happily with their friends the enemy down in Dixie, while Middletown, Conn., Syracuse, N.Y., Auburn, Neb., Denver, Col., Davenport, Iowa, Pittsburgh, Penn., Sterling, Kan., and various other places are among the addresses found on the roster. Whatever they are they are all animated by one feeling -- that of pride in the record of their old regiment."

The names mentioned in this rambling introductory chapter will give an idea of the ramifications and ways through which the history of the Scottish race in America is to be traced. The men we have already spoken of are mainly random instances, but all, even the Scoto-Indian chiefs, did something toward making the country what it is to-day. As we proceed we will find much more direct and important examples of the influence of the nationality and of the good work that influence accomplished. It is a knowledge that Scotsmen have done their share in building up the great Republic that makes them proud of its progress and inspires them to add to its glories and advantages in every way. Scotsmen, as a nationality, are everywhere spoken of as good and loyal citizens, while Americans who can trace a family residence of a century in the country are proud if they can count among their ancestors some one who hailed from the land of Burns, and it is a knowledge of all this, in turn, that makes the American Scot of to-day proud of his country's record and his citizenship and impels him to be as devoted to the new land as it was possible for him to have been to the old had he remained in it. In America, the old traditions, the old blue flag with its white cross, the old Doric, are not forgotten, but are nourished, and preserved, and honored, and spoken by Scotsmen on every side with the kindliest sentiments on the part of those to whom they are alien. Americans know and acknowledge that the traditions and flag and homely speech have long been conserved to the development of that civil and religious liberty on which the great confederation of sovereign republican States have been founded. In the United States, Sir Walter Scott has more readers and quite as enthusiastic admirers as in Scotland, and if Americans were asked which of the world's poets came nearest to their hearts, the answer would undoubtedly be -- Robert Burns.

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