DOG AVENGE AND The Magnanimity of Rohn-yen-ness, WOMEN CAPTURING THE HESSIAN, | The Battle of Bloody 5 Brook.) BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, New England News Co., Poston, Mass. t | | | 1 i { \} ‘ \ i ‘son-m X-uuow so Aatwuvuseyy ony, ert ES; DOG AVENGER: THE MAGNANIMITY OF ROHN-YEN-NESS, WONEY CAPTURING IMI HESSIAN, BATTLE OF BLOODY BROOK. NEW YORK: BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, 28 WILLIAM STREET. a ee 2S Entered according to Act of Congress, in the Year 1864. by Bzaviz snp CowPaxy. in the Clerk’s Office of the Disirtet Court in the United States for the Southern District of New York. THE WAGNANIMITY OF ROHN-YEN-NESS, We can well:imagine with what joy peace with, the Indians was welcomed) by the inhabitants, of those Western States, which ‘had, for ‘years, ‘been one -vast battlefield, where the white and red man hunted each other like wild beasts, and carried on a war of extermination. The settler could now leave his home for the field. without that awful dread of finding it in ashes, and his family massacred, on his return. ,The mother could hug her infant to her: bosom without the fear that ere another morn its little brains might be dashed out against the door-posts. | 'Thé confiiement of “stations” and “forts” was exchanged forthe freedom, of the groves and fields, and all nature seemed to weatia more cheering aspect. to those who had so Jong viewed her'‘in’ connection with the idea,of the lurking Indian—the attack, the struggle, the slaughter, and bloodshed of savage war, Among all those who rejoiced at the return of peace, none felt more hearty satisfaction that the strife was ended than Adam Poe... He had, like his neigh. bors, been forced to take up the rifle and tomahawk in de- fense of his home, and: had taken an active part in the struggle for supremacy but he welcomed, with a thankful heart, the period when the Indian and the pale-face might take each other by the hand and. be friends... The Wyandots, however could not forget the loss of their celebrated chiefs, “ Big Foot” and his brother, and they had nourished their revenge until it had become a matter of principle with'them to send the spirit of their slayer to accompany them to the “happy hunting-grounds ” of their tribe, They determined, therefore, 197, a Se 6 TALES AND TRADITIONS. upon the death of the white man, notwithstanding the pro. clamation of peace, and Rohn-yen-ness—one of their chiefs— was selected to carry the plan, into execution. At this time, Poe lived on the west side of’ the Ohio river, near the mouth of Little Yellow creek. , One, evening, just. as the family had sat down to thei? evening meal} a'tall, splendid-ldoking) In! dian was seen approaching the house. His appearance awakened no other_emotion than that of curiosity in the breasts of those who, a short time previous, would have been alarmed at the sight of a red warrior in such close proximity t6 their dwelling.’ Perhaps the recollection of former injuries arose'in the mind of the white:man, is his gaze! rested upon the noble form of the Indian’; ‘but, ‘be that as/itimay; he wel- comed hitt’to hi¥ cabin, atid, éxtending® to “him ithe hand ‘of friendship, invited him to partake'of the humble supper spread beforé them.” Without ‘any show/of hesitation, Rohntyen-néss took ‘his’ seat at’ the ® table, notowould the: most careful: '‘ob- server “havé'gléaned ‘any intimation from his conduct: of ‘the. deadly ‘errand’ tipon which he had’come. ') He! bore his rifle aiid’ shot-pouch, and ‘in his belt'was the keen-edgéd tomahawk and s¢alping-knifé.’ Biit these’ were theoimplements. of the chasé, a8 Well’as of war} ‘and’such was'the faith of the whites in regard’ to the integrity of the Indians in maintaining the peace'they had voluntarily souglit, that’ not the slightest sus- picion was entertained by Poe of’ the object of the visit.) It is Not ‘etiquette,’ according: to the Indian’s code; to seek to: learii the objects of: a’ warriot in Visiting 4 friend, and, Poe wis content, therefore; tolwwait ‘until the’ other saw fit to ex- plaiii’then’ 'Thé' evening was passed :inianimated coriversa- tidn’ between’ the’ hobt’and his! dusky guest, and when:the hour, for’ retiring ‘came, a> pallet; was laid: wpon: the:floor! for. the accommodation 6f. the Warrior. 0'Poe! dnd: his wife then: re- tired to-bed in the'same'room!! Rohn-yen-iess threw himself upon’ thé “floor but ‘not ‘to! sleep.i “A -violent struggle was going on ‘iit his breast) which increased in intensity ‘as the nioment approached: andthe opportunity «was offered for; the cotimission ‘of the'deed ‘for which’ he had been sent... Besides 198! || | THE, STILL, SMALL VOICE: 2 Poe and his wife, there ; were: no, other inmates. of the ‘cabin but their children, and/these slept apart from their parents. Sleep soon wrapped the unsuspecting family in oblivion, and nothing intervened to; prevent the full accomplishment of the Indian’s revenge, ‘except’ that. “ still, | Small’ voice,” which, emanating from an) Omnipresent Deity, pervades equally the mind of the white and the red man, and points hiny to his duty., Rohn-yen-ness .could ‘not. bring’ himself’ to /think! of murdering in cold.blood the man who’ had shown: himself so kind 'to him, without(a feeling of, great jinquietude.!,' Instead of distrust. and) suspicion, ‘he had. beeni | received with; the warmest. expressions of friendship and; confidence. ./ The} best the; hunter’s cabin, afforded had) been} laid: before him for use, and he had been treated with the, kindliest reception of the most favored, guest, without the sigh eaigears of distrust on the part of his host. ¢ The intellectual struggle of the noble savage was pecwolfal in the extreme. Now, thinking of the kind and’ brotherly: - treatment of his, host; now:of the promise to his tribe that:he would avenge the sacrifice of their brother warriors. In this conflict of mind, the passions and traditions of his people con- tended; with the. nobler and finer feelings of his nature; until long after midnight, when, the fire burning low, he felt if the deed was to be done at all, it must’ be quickly done, or it would be too late.|| Nerving himself. therefore to! the effort, as he thought of the derision of his tribe, and x unapipeased manes of his friends, he arose from his pallet and grasped the instruments of deaths;: With a’ catlike tread, he» approached the couch on-which Poe’ and: his wife were sleeping; without, the slightest intimation of the danger: whidli hung over them, and prepared to do his: bloody» work.» -Withi his:tomahawk in’ one hand, and his long, keen; and, glistening’ scalping-knife in the other, he'stdod ‘in ithe act of striking the fatal blows which would send two of the pale-faces into eternity, when his»eye rested upon the face:.of Poe, who was) dreaming and smiling | in ‘his! sleep, ‘and his purpose changed: in the twinkling: of: ameyé. The smile on the face of his host seemed to warn : 199 8 TALES AND TRADITIONS. him of the meanness and treachery’ of the act he was about to commit—-and his arm fell powerless at’ his ‘side. He felt how unworthy the character of a warrior it was to murder a friend while asleep; and he went back ‘to his) pallet, and’ throwing himself down, slept till morning. : ‘When Poe arose—entirely unsuspicious of the narrow escape from’ death he had had during the night—he loaded his: guest with blessings, and Y welcomed him to his ‘table with a sincerity which could not be assumed. He told him that once they were enemies, and would have killed each: other had they met; now there was peace between them, and‘having buried the hatchet, ‘he hoped it might:not again be dug up. ' Now they were broth- Hl ers, arid he hoped they:might always be such. After the : morning meal, Rohn-yen-ness, overwhelmed witha sense of the generosity of »his friend, left him to join his party, who were awaiting in anxious expectation the result of his expedition. Themore‘he reflected upon the course he had pursued the » more certain ihe felt that the Great Spirit was pleased with him. An act of kindness had changed this:once proud and revengéful warrior into’ a child, and” all: the plans ‘which ‘he had formed had been frustrated by the events of an evening: Rohn-yen-ness became one iof the earliesti converts’ to the i Christian faith among the Wyandots,' under the missionary: ‘, efforts of the’ Methodist ‘Episcopal ‘church; and invariably | ; used his»influence against the'traders’ and their fire-water. } A still more striking instance of the generosity which some- i times shines out:from the dark nature of the savage occurred i at the massacre of the River Raisin—a name suggestive of all iy that.is horrible in Indian warfare. \-At the mere mention of t; our mothers. still shudder, and over it our grandmothers wept bitter tears! for sons, the very flower of Kentucky, who there fella sacrifice to savage cruelty, and the perfidy of an’ English General. It is well ‘known that the first. conflict at Frenchtown resulted: favorably to our army, and that when ' the assailants renewed the attack, they for hours made good their frail stockades against the whole force of British and Indians combined.’ During the hottest: part of this latter 200 THE MASSACRE AT FRENCHTOWN. ¥ fight, Mr. C-+---,,then a, mere boy, was struck down. by. bullet, through the body, and carried to, ajlog-hut.in the rear, used as a hospital, forthe wounded, with whom. it was.soon crowded... After the surrender, which, was not made until the English commander pledged. his honor for the safety.of the prisoners, a number.of savages, drunk.with rage and whisky, rushed into the eabin and) began ‘to tomahawk and scalp the helpless inmates... Young C+—-, who happened to be lying in-such a position; as to be partially hid, but, yet able, to, see all that was. done, feigned death, hoping thereby to escape the hatchet, though he well knew it would not.save,him from the scalping-knife, for scalps then. bore a good price at the government offices. in-Canada,, While.trying, to, nerve him- self to,endure the horrible mutilation without, flinching, he noticed the entrance of an Indian who, instead, of taking any part in the barbarous.employment of his fellows, appeared to regard it with disapproval. . Grasping at,the slighest, hope of escape, the youth, determined to appeal, to, this man_ for protection.,;,Springing suddenly to his feet, and eluding some blows aimed.at him, he rushed to hig; side, and. earnestly begged to be received as his prisoner,,| The noble savage for a moment regarded his eager petitioner witha look of min gled doubt and pity, and then asked if he thought himself able to endure a rapid march to Canada. Receiving an assur- ance in the affirmative, he threw his blanket round, the youth and led him to his own camp, where he supplied him, with proper food, examined tenderly.into, the nature of his hurt, and watched. over his safety with the solicitude of a brother. During the subsequent day, when, so many of the prisoners were murdered. in cold blood by their guards, this Indian, by assistance and. encouragement, enabled his suffering protégé to keep so, well.up ‘with the party, in its, hasty march, as/not to attract. the attention of his less, merciful companions, who would have dispatched him if he had delayed their progress. At night, when the poor boy’s wounds kept him awake and tossing with pain, his red friend sat by him, trying to assuage his agony, and whenvhe at last. discovered that this. was best 201 — _ — = 10 TALES AND TRADITIONS. aécomplished by the patient lying across’ something; offered his own! person’ for that’ purpose, and - bore, without moving, the inconveniences ‘f ‘stich a position during the remainder of the ‘night. "The same conduct’ was’ continued~ until Mr. C-——— was delivered tothe British authorities at’ Malden. From that time he never saw or could hear ‘of his’ noble bene- factor; but ‘he always’ cherished his‘memory with feelings of the deepest gratitude. We think we ‘may challenge any historian of ‘civilized warfare to point out @ more striking in- stance of generosity than this. “Certainly a darker scene was never relieved by ‘a brighter gleam. In return for this, we ‘have a story of the magnanimity of Harrod, one of the representative border men of Kentucky— a leader in whom his companions had the fullest ‘confidence, anid toward whom the settlers turned in cases of danger, as to their ablest friend. Being on one occasion hotly pressed by a party of Indians, he plinged into the’ Miami; then in a flooded’ state, and ‘hold- ing his rifle above water with one hand, and swimming with the other, succeeded in reaching ‘the other shore untouched by the bullets which closely flew about his head. Two of the savages, as’ bold’ as‘ himself, followed, but the foremost, when in mid-stream, reeeived’a shot and disappeared, with a stifled yell, beneath the tushing waters, ‘while the’ other, watned by his-comrade’s fate, turned back, and the chase was given up. An hour or two afterward; as Harrod approached the rivera few miles below'the point where this. encounter had taken place, he saw something struggling in an eddy, and was not a little astonished when he beheld a’naked warrior draw himself painfully-upon a ‘pile of driftwood, where, hav- ing with difficulty fixed himself, he proceeded to apply a rude bandage to his shoulder, down which the’ blood was flowing from a deep rifle-shot wound.» Rightly conjecturing this to be the same Indian whom he had ‘shot, who'had contrived to save himself ‘by clinging to some piece of floating timber, and moved by an imiptilsé such as few white men of his time’ would have tinderstood, he resolved to lend what assistance 202 THE. WOUNDED. WARRIOR; 1d) he could, to, his, disabled adyersary,, But, how, to,approach him was the first, difficulty ; for Harrod well knew, that if he should,present himself in the guise of an enemy,;the savage would not. hesitate, to plunge again, into the;stream rather than allow a foeman the honor of carrying away |hiis:scalp-as a trophy (of victory.) ‘Stealing cautiously, therefore, to: one: of the trees.on the bank.a few yards from where:the,'uncon- scious, object, of| his, kindness, sat; he laid aside his,.gan, knife, and, hatchet, and. then. slipped \suddenly: into view. with his arms extended, in token of'-peace, and..to,show that) hei was without any weapon, .At the’first sight of him the savage started in act to plunge into the stream, but a second! glance assuring him that no immediate hostility was intended, he for- bore his | purpose, but’ remained , watching with the jealous gaze.of.a disabled wild beast the stranger’s' approach, ready at the first. suspicious! motion| to seek death inthe foaming river rather than await it.at the hands of an/eneniy. » At length the encouraging gestures and open, kindly countenance of the other convinced him) that nothing | unfriendly was. intended, when he suffered himself to be approached. , Harrod, finding him almost fainting from cold. and, loss of: blood; gently: as- sisted him to the shore, where he dressed: ‘his hurt witha portion of his’ own clothing, and then taking him»on his baék, bore him several miles to. a beautiful little cavej which he had discovered years before; and used as’ a: lodging’ in inclement weather during his excursions into this region.,, Here:he eon- tinued to feed and. nurse his latefoemanas long ashe required such attentions,\and finally disniissed! him :in safety to his tribe. Such was James amr to his friends ; and—a en test of character—such was he to'his enemies. il It, is said, that neither Boone. nor! Harrod sittidaed that vindictive hatred \of the Indians which was, felt by most of the border men.; They fought. them when the welfare of the community, demanded it, but they were not, like/ Kenton ‘and others, Indian haters, who could not) cross the path, ofa: red- skin without taking his life, if possible... Harrod, in particular, 203 12 TALES AND TRADITIONS. was not surpassed’ in magnanimity by any hero of chiv- alry. He was,in every essential, a knight “ without fear and without reproach’;” and ‘his life was a true romance of the forest. Born’ it’ is not: certainly known’ where, ignorant of letters but intelligent from observation, with a spirit as lofty and as gentle as that of Sidney himself, he appeared among the earliest’ settlers of the country—or rather preceded them, for when Boone came first to Boonesborough, Harrod’s eabin already marked ‘the site) of Harrodsburg—and, after spend- ing his prime of manhood ‘in protecting the lives and property without deigning to grasp the immense fortune’ his own en- terprise had placed within reach, at last, when all around him was ‘peaceand prosperity, when an affectionate family made his home pleasant, and age’was beginning to silver his jetty cutls and: steal the vigor from his stalwart’ tread—when it was natural that he would settle quietly down, beloved by neighbors to whom he had shown so much kindness, and hon- ored by the commonwealth that he had helped to build up, he suddenly plunged into 'the ‘forest and disappeared ‘as mys- teriously as he had come. The beginning and end of his life no: man knows; nor can any one point out the spot where his cradle stood or his bones repose. Mr. Jenkins, a resident of Wyoming, was taken prisoner by the Indians in 1777. He was on a ‘scouting party up the river, nearly fifty miles; Mr. York, father of the Rev. Minor York, was one of his companions; Lemuel Fish was another. They were ambushed, not far from Wyalusing, by a party of Indians, and taken to the British lines. An Indian chief of some celebrity was prisoner to the Americans in Albany, and Colonel John Butler sent: Mr. Jenkins, under an escort of In- dians, to be exchanged for the chief. On the way he suffered exceedingly, and, had it not beén that a young savage had become warmly attached to him, Mr. Jenkins thought that he should have been massacred, and was almost sure he should have been starved. But the young Indian,’ amidst rum and riot, for the eaptive’s sake kept himself sober and calm, fed him, protected him. Arrived at Albany, the 204 INDIAN ‘FIDELITY, 138 chief for whom:he was to have been exchanged had just died of small-pox. The Indians insisted ;upon taking Mr. Jenkins back with them. From their character and: conduct: he felt certain that they intended to take his life, in revenge for that ‘of their ‘chief, the moment they were beyond the, reach of pursuit. But he was still protected by. his savage: friend, and found his way back, eventually, to his friends.. Mr. Jen- kins was prompt ‘at-all: times to do. justice to his Indian friends, though, from the cruelties. practiced in that vicinity, the savages were generally: held in such detestation. When General Scott arrived at the American encampment in the Northwest, he found three Indian; prisoners under a charge of murdering the whites, The evidence was slight, and an application had been sent on to Washington to obtain their release. But the President| had gone to the Hermitage, and the Seeretary of War to Detroit... No answer, of course, was obtained. In the mean, time, the cholera, broke out among the American troops at. Rock river; many became victims; one of the three Indians also took it and died. The General, seeing the danger they were exposed to, de- termine’ upon letting the two survivors out, of confinement, and told them: if they would confine themselves to the island in the river he would, permit them to go there, Their word being pledged; he directed them to go to the extreme part of the island, where they might. keep somewhat out of the way of our troops. They accordingly repaired ‘to the quarter designated, but they never once left the island, though they might easily have! effected their ‘escape. Meantime the chol- era spread and the danger thickened. . The General then told them that he would, permit them to go to their tribe, upon ‘condition that they would: return to camp so soon as he gave them notice that the cholera had disappeared. They assénted to the terms and went home. These men were under.a charge of murder, and might have lost their lives had they been put upon trial. But notwith- standing this circumstance, the moment General Scott had determined to hold his great conference with the!Indians, he 205 14 TALES! AND) TRADITIONS. informed the prisoners ‘that they must core in, which order they did not: hesitate ‘to obey: .'They! repaired, among ithe first of their brethren, to: the American éncampment. The ‘reader: will like to bear that: they, were ‘ultimately “acquitted, though one of them had: to:pledge himself to at- tend asa witness against’ another Indian, who was. charged with murdering the whites, This» duty, too, he fulfilled, though at much inconvenience: to! himself. : ; The story: of the highly noble race” of ‘aborigines, ‘the Natchez, ‘is so full of a melancholy interest: that-its narration always serves’ to enlist. sympathy for the Indian race... The Natchez, at:the | time of the French domination in Louisiana territory—1688+1762—were a powerful people, possessed of many arts and-customs which clearly demonstrated their close - alliance with those tribes: of South America! and Mexico whose “magnificence of barbaric civilization has astonished the! world and: confounded all speculations in the history. of the origimof man’ The French in Louisiana, like the Spaniards in Mexico and Peru, found-excuses to wage war upon the Natchez, and carried on awar with the’ tribe until it actually was’ extermi- nated. No people ever perished more suddenly and more:ef- -fedctually ; and’ now, all that we have of their history is the record)of their destruction, through; which record we catch glimpses: of their native: greatness and ey develop- ment in'a barbaric’ civilization. ‘ ‘Bienville; the founder of the ‘first French sidan in ‘the Louisiana territory, soon became acquainted with the Natchez, and made it’ a study-to retain their friendship... His successor, . Cadillac, a conceited scion of an old French family, disdained allallianée with the Indians, and took early occasion to insitlt »the Natchez,-who' resented the: act by a murder of French | ‘emissaries in their midst.. To punish the tribe for this aict, Cadillac dispatched Bienville with a small foree up the: river. By stratagem: he succeeded in obtaining possession of a! num- ber of their leading chiefs, whom he put to death as a recrim- ination for the murder of the Frenchmen.) One of the number was called Chief of the Beard, from the fact of his :having!,a 206 THE ‘CHIEFS OF “DHE BEARD. 15 long beard—a remarkable. cirenmstance;among Indians, whose faces are always beardless. This savage, when, ledjout.to, be shot, chanted a war-song which: has; been 'preserved., by Ga- yarre, in his “ History of Louisiana.”|; We. quote from it, as showing something of the intelligence-and nobility of nature which marked this great but’ now extinct race. “Let there be joy in the hearts.of; the Natchez! for a wit- ted chief, worthy of the race.of their Suns; has, been, born to them, in thee, my son; a noble chief, with beard on his chin! Listen to the explanation of that prodigy. .,In days of.old, a Natchez maid, of the race of their-Suns, was on a visit tothe Mobilians.., There she ‘soon loyed.the youthful chief, of that nation, ‘and her wedding-day was;nigh, when there came from the big salt lake, south; “a host'of bearded, men,. who, sacked the town, slew the red chief |with their thunder, and one, of these accursed! evil-spirits,used’ violence tothe maid, when her lover’s» corpse was hardly, cold, in,death:, She found, in sorrow, her way: back to the Natchez. hills, where she, became amother; and lo! ithe’ boy had beard on his chin! and when he: grew: to nntlergthnd his mother’s words, she whispered in his ear: “Son of the Chiefs of the Beard, Born from a bloody day, , Bloody be thy hand, bloody be thy life, Until thy, black beard with blood becomes red. “Let there be joy in the; hearts of. the Natchez! In my first, ancestor, a long line of the best hunters, of chiefs, and of warriors, of the,race, of their, Suns, had been born to them, with; beard on their,chin! , What chase was ever unsuccess- ful, when, over, it they presided ? When they spoke in the council of’ the, wise men of, the nation, did it not always turn out that their advice, whether adopted or rejected, was the _best.in the end? In, what. battle, were they. ever defeated ? When were they known to be worn out with, fatigue,. hard- ships, hunger or thirst, heat or cold, either on land or on water? Who ever could stem, as they, the rushing current of the father cf rivers ? Who can count the numLer of scalps which they brought from distant expeditions? Their names (207 16 TALES AND TRADITIONS. have always been famous in the wigwams of all the red, na tions. They have struck terror into the boldest. breasts of the enemies of’ the Natchez; and «mothers, wlien their sons paint their bodies in the colors of war, say to them ; “Fight where and with whom you please, © But beware,,oh! beware of the Chiefs of the Beard ! Give way to them, as you would to death, Or their black beards with your blood will be red? “Tet there be joy in the hearts of the Natchez!’ When the first Chief'of the Beard first trimmed the’ sacred. fire in the temple, 4 voice was heard, which said, ‘ As long as there lives a chief, of the'tace‘of the Suns, with beard on his chin, ‘no evil can happen to the Natchez nation; but if the white race should éver résume the blood which it gave, in a bloody day, woe, three times woe to the Natchez! of them nothing will remain but the shadow of a name!’ 'Thus spoke the invisible prophet. Years rolled on, years thick on years, andi none of the:ac- cursed ‘‘white-faces were seen! ‘But, they appeared at last, wrapped up in their pale skins, like shrouds ofthe dead; and the father of my father, whom tradition had taught to guard against the predicted danger, slew two of the hated strangers ; and my father, in his turn, killed four! “Praise be to the Chiefs of the Beard! Who knew how to avenge their old ancestral injury! When with the sweet blood of a white foe, Their black béard they proudly painted red.” There is something so proudly defiant, so inherently great, in this savage chant, as the victim stood before his execu- tioners, that it commands our admiration, and makes ‘us re- gret that so much nobility as the ‘American’ savage has re- ‘peatedly betrayed, should have been permitted to waste itself upon the battle-field and in the merciless ‘war of éxtermina- tion. Perhaps if we had been more humane in out civilization, the savage of the wilderness would have been less of the tiger in his ferocity. MR, LYBROOK’S: CHILDREN. 19 THE HEROIC DOG. Catt it sagacity, instinct, or by ~whatever.name: we please, there is a faculty of the brain possessed by some orders of the animal creation which is so near akin, to reason that, it would argue the possession of a considerable amount of critical acumen on the part of him who-should attempt to. say. where instinct ceases and reason begins. So, many .authentic in- stances of canine intelligence are on record going, to. prove that the dog, above all other animals, possesses the power of intelligently associating cause and effect, that it would be the work of supererogation to advance an’ argumentin favor, of his reasoning capacity. How far the possession of this power is limited by the size of the brain of the individual, is a subject for the metaphysicians } it isienough for our present purpose, that it is a generally conceded fact that the mastiff, of all the canine: species, is the most intelligent ‘and judicious. The Newfoundland dog, it is true, exhibits traits of character and mind which have rendered him: famous}, but -for true intelligence and readiness in time of danger, the mastiff is ever the most reliable. i The family of Mr. Lybrook, who settled on New river, Giles county, Virginia, possessed a large and valuable dog of the mastiff breed, which did good::service on one occasion in saving the life of one of his» children ; ‘and in doing so, exhibited a degree of sagacity which would have been credit- able to one of the genus homo. | Mr. Lybrook’s children—J ohn, a boy of ten or twelve, a brother: about:six, and his sister, of some thirteen years of age—~were playing one morning in the month of July, 1774, with other children-on the banks of New river, when they were surprised by 4 party!of four Indians, who succeeded in killing and scalping all, but John. and -his sister. . 211 H Ey 20 TALES | AND. TRADITIONS On leaving the house, the children were accompanied by the dog, who, feeling as desirous as they of a good play-spell, ran bounding before them toward a sunny bank near the river, which he knew to be their playground. They were at first disposed to send him back; \but; finding ‘their efforts to that effect unavailing, they gave up the attempt, and very fortu- nately, as it ‘afterward proved. ac When tired of play, the little ones had grouped themselves on the bank, and while some were busy in building miniature cabins under the roots of a pin-oak; others of the younger ones were making sand-pies and mud-houses nearer the shore, while the dog had strayed off, probably on the scent) of some small game. While thus situated, and little dreaming of danger, they heard a crackling in:the bushes, and) looked up, expecting to see their good-natured canine companion come bounding through the: underbrush—instead: of which, they were terrified at beholding thepainted and otherwise hide- ous face of an Indian peering at them over the top of a shrub oak which grew by the'side of the path leading toward their home. Their first impulse’ was to run toward a canoe ‘whick lay on the edge of the stream, andin which they had. amused themselves during’ the afternoon, childlike, thinking this their only ark of safety. John had presence of mind enough, how- ever, to endeavor:to reach home by running around: another way. This the Indian was not satisfied to let him do, and took after/him at the» top of his ‘speed!’ A. short: distance would, of course, soonhave ended the race, but for a deep and wide gulley which lay-across their path, and “which, when John came to it, he ‘attempted to leap. It was twelve feet wide where he made the attempt, and very deép.. Any one not flying:for his ‘life would have hesitated, perhaps, before essaying so great .a feat; but John, collecting allshis. power into one tremendous: effort, cleared it. ata bound, and: the Indian not: being’ prepared to follow, he escaped. » Meantime, three other red-skins had followed the remaining \children into the canoe, where they were huddled together! in an agony of fear, and commenced to kill and scalp them. John’s sister, 212 THE DOG AND ‘THE INDIAN. 21 ® in the confusion, slipped out of the canoe, and making good use of her feet, fled down the path toward home. The Indian who had pursued John, returning from his race at this , moment, discovered her ere she was out of sight, and started in pursuit. Tearing his approaching footsteps, the poor girl gave vent to her fears ina series of heartrending shrieks, which rung through the forest, and had the effect to recall the straying dog, who came bounding through the wood, and threw himself between his ‘young mistress and her pursuer. The Indian, not liking ‘his appearance, endeavored to avoid him; but, quick as the bolt from heaven, the faithful animal sprung at his throat, and, although the savage tried to ward his grasp, such was the dog’s certainty of spring, that they both went tothe ground together. ‘Then commenced a series of struggles between the Indian and his canine antagonist—the one pulling, tearing and jerking at his enemy’s throat, while the other endeavored in every way to loose his hold or to stun him with his war-club. The dog had already received one or two severe blows, when, apparently perceiving his dis- advantage, he threw himself across the body of the Indian in such a manner as to rest partly upon his right arm, and thus avoid the blows. This was the result of reason.’ How else could he so effectually shield himself, and still maintain his ascendeney, as by throwing his body directly under the ‘arm which was inflicting the blows, so that they must necessarily pass over him? In this position he remained tugging at the throat of his antagonist, until the other Indians, having finished their bloody work, drove him off by a heavy blow on his head, which nearly deprived him of life. His young mistress had escaped, however, and the Indiaus fearing pursuit, hastily gathered up their scalps, and taking their wounded comrade upon their shoulders, décamped. The dog, when he returned to consciousness, managed to crawl to the canoe where lay the mutilated bodies of five of the children, and laid himself down beside them, as though determined to spend his little remaining’ strength in watehing over and shielding them from further injury. 213 a 22: TALES AND TRADITIONS, ‘When the parents, who had, been alarmed by John and. his sister, came tothe spot, they found him still at his post , endeavoring to recall, to life the mangled bodies. of his. play- mates, by licking their, gaping wounds, and exhibiting the most, affecting evidences of sorrow, at his want. of success. Tenderly;and sadly the lifeless. remains of the murdered innocents were removed; to the. cabins of their respective parents for burial, and then and there went up a wail of sorrow from the hearts of their bereaved relatives, which might have moved the pity of the most.sayage; warrior to hear.:; One of the little ones was yet unaccounted, for—the youngest Ly- brook, Seareh was immediately instituted to find his hiding place. . The dog, too, was. missing. In the hurry and con- fusion. consequent.upon; the. removal; of the bodies, no note had been taken of his. movements, and now he was nowhere to be found.. When. the: party returned to the canoe, they heard his pitiful howl in the adjacent woods, and upon going to the spot, they found. the still faithful animal by the side of the dying; boy, who had received a blow on. his head which fractured his skull, and, was stripped of his sealp. Thus had the noble mastiff remained true to the last. A still more surprising instanceof the sagacity of the canine race, occurred justi after the raising of the siege of Fort: Stan- wix, in the Mohawk valley., Captain Gregg and a corporal were out, shooting during the day,,when, as evening drew near, they. prepared to. return,to the fort, parties of Indians being known ‘to, still linger. in the vicinity... But a. flock of pigeons alighting near,.them,, they were about to fire upon them, when two shots were. heard, and Gregg saw his: com- panion fall dead, while he felt .a wound in his own side which so weakened him that; he speedily fell. Two Indians then appeared from, thicket... Gregg,at once saw that, his. only hope was to feign death.,.,Qne of the savages struck him in the head ,with, a hatchet; and| then, with,a knife, drew a circle around his crown, and-pulled off his scalp with his teeth. The Indians them ,decamped;:and,.soon as they were fairly gone, Gregg, although ,suffering terribly from. the wounds in his 214 : _ CAPTAIN ,GREGG. 23 side and head, endeayored, to, reach his,.companion, froma belief that, could he place his head on the corporal’s body, the, anguish of the wound, in. his head would be alleviated. Making an effort to rise, he no sooner attained. his. feet, than he sunk again; again he,made the' attempt; the, third time he so far succeeded as to,,stagger. slowly to the spot where his friend lay, whom he found lifeless.and scalped; He placed his head upon the, bloody body, and;,.as; he expected, this po- sition, afforded him some relief. But his comfort, was destroyed by the annoyance of a small dog, which had accompanied him in his expedition, who now came up to himjin great, distress, leaping, yelping, and. whin- ing about, his master.,;,Wearied by his efforts to force, the dog from lim, he exclaimed, involuntarily : f “Tf you, wish so much.to help me, go and call some one to my relief.” ' To his surprise, the dog immediately bounded off through the iorest at _his;utmost, speed. The animal made,his way to where three men were fishing, about a mile fromthe scene of the tragedy; and as he came up to them, began |to cry and whine, and endeavored to attract their attention by hounding off into, the woods, returning, and urging them to follow him., They proceeded some distance, and. finding nothing, while darkness. .was’.settling around, making the forest dangerous, they determined to return. But no, sooner did ‘they attempt to. retrace, their steps, than the animal .began., to. cry, out..with almost: human_ earnestness, caught hold of their coats with his teeth, and.endeavored to force them to follow. As they continued to return his viod lence increased, until the men; astonished at, his pertinacity, _ concluded to go with him... Presently they,;came to where Gregg was lying, whom they found still living... They buried the corporal and carried ;the captain into the fort.,; Surprising as it may seem, the) wounds, of Gregg),healed up, and he recovered his usual health. It is not possible to read this extraordinary instance of brute sagacity without) feeling that. nature has implanted in 215 24 TALES AND TRADITIONS. the animal mind something’ more than mere instinct: We see displayed by this mastiff not only great courage, but ‘a persistence which seemed to indicate that: the animal knew how much was dependent upon’ his overcoming the savage. Then the manner in which’ the d6g conducted ‘the’ struggle so as to avoid the war-club, would demonstrate beyond)a doubt a canine reason scarcely to' be identified with any mere physical: or mental instinct. .'The numerous: instances ‘of! sagacious exhibition of powers of mind ‘demanding: reason and combination for their’ explanation,’ gives: philosophers plentiful data to build up doubts’ of ‘the'old' received opinion that’ animals ‘are mere brutes, devoid of all ‘mental powers save those of a purely animal nature.” The bear} the fox, the horse, the elephant, the beaver, the squirrel, the deer, the rat, the cat—all have powers not 'reconcilable at all with the long-propounded opinion of their merely brute, instinctive action. Of the dog and his powers of mind; Dr. Lazarus says’: The dog is, in every society founded like ours on individual property, the vigilant guardian and heroic defender of ‘what is called public order’and property. That citizen with hoarse voice and tattered garments has a look rathér’suspicious for property ; the dog stops him, rudely to ask his passport. But as the majority has its principles, the minority also has its own, and both have their dogs, whom they have taught to venerate their institutions. The dog of the thief will then profess, on matters of public order and commerce, prin” ciples diametrically opposite to those of the magistrate’s dog. The dog discusses no question of right—his duty is to obey and keep quiet; he obeys without murmuring. The dog is the finest conquest evermade by man. He is the first element of human progress. Without the dog, man would have been compelled to vegetate eternally in the limbos of the savage state. It is the dog that causes society to pass from the savage to the patriarchal state, by giving him the herd; without the herd, no assured subsistence, no leg ‘of mutton nor roast beef at will, no wool, no time to spare, no astro- 216 THE DOG AND THE ARAB ‘CHIEF. 25 nomical observations, no science, no arts.’ It isthe dog who gives man these opportunities. “Phe ‘East /is* the eradle of civilization, because the East is the country of the dog. Take the dog from Asia, and Asia ‘is no more than’ Americas the Roman, the Greek, the Eeyptian, the Chinese, then the tribes of the Western continent.’ (Is not'Peru a brilliant exception ?) To what, indeed, are limited ‘all the’ efforts’ of intelligence, _ all the labors of the Mohican, who ean live only by the chase ? To study the great art of trackifig out and of following by the scent the game or the enemy. Now; ‘a young hound knows more of this difficult science after six monthis’ studies, than the most skillfal savage in‘forty years of practice.’ The indigenous races of the East who had the dog, have then been dispensed with ‘giving themselves up to the painful labors which absorbed all the time and all the’ficulties: of the red- skins. They have had time to spare, and they could employ it in creating industry. Here is the origin of arts and: trades, the differénce between the old and new continents. »Histori- ans have written thousands of ‘volumes upon this er ave’ ques- tion without having discovered this’ very simple ‘truth, and brave anatomists continue to disse¢t American skulls, to seek in them the causé of the inferiority of this race,*without sus- pecting that, they are a hundred leagues from the solution of the problem. d The novel work of Mr. Toussenel gives us many anecdotes of the dog not recorded by the naturalists. This author re- gards the dog as a sentient being, and discourses accordingly. We may repeat some of his anecdotes, even though we may reject his purely speculative hypotheses regarding the dog’s mental manifestations. The author writes : The hunting dog is often ‘seen running before the soldiers, in company of the little boys, at the entrance of a regiment into the city. It is because the regiment is the hearth of friendship and of devotion—the two’ sentiments that vibrate most strongly in the heart of the dog: similis simili gaudet. The same reason explains the affaetion of the dog for infancy, the age of equality, of friendship, of candor: ‘The ;spaniel 2b7 aes Tiwi e S Se Seen Ss gae=e ne Sees ae ae geese os 26 TALES, AND..TRADITIONS. has many troubles with the child on account of its long, lus- trous, and silken’ ears,;which the latter loves to pull; but he has also many! delights in regard to slices of bread and. but- ter, and conformity of tastes. I should not be far from be- lieving that there was much to be done for the colonization of ‘Algiers by the organization of the dog, and especially, by that of the township or commune, The dog aspires to battles like the horse ; he is intoxicated with the smell of powder, and goes into ecstasies of, gayety at the sight, of a gun. I had one in Africa who as willingly attacked the Arab asthe hare, and who perished as a victim of ‘his passion for war., He was a charming animal—an ad- mirable mixture of the brack and bull-dog; his ears had been cut, but:in compensation he had a superb.tail, that curled like a hunting bugle. One day, when a large party of Hadjouts had surprised us poaching toward the fragrant, border of the dark orange-masses jof.Allouya, just at the foot of.the Atlas, and ~wlien the conversation in saltpeter grew warm, Bichebou —it was the name of my companion in arms—amused himselt in playing the shuttlecock between us and the enemy, running at each shot'to see what we had killed. To this’ exeusable vice of; curiosity the animal united, alas, that of holding too fast to his master’s game, and of having a hard tooth. It happened then that an Arab chief, superbly mounted, fell in the direction of my piece ; the intrepid Biche- bou thought his honor.at,stake in fetching him to me. | Per- haps success might ;haye crowned the attempt with a dead enemy, but this one was not so; he was only winged in his right atm, and seizing in his left, his terrible yataghan, he dealt his aggressor a huge wound in the side... Poor Biche- bow! I think Ivstill see you stretched upon the red arena, ex- tending to me, in.sign.of last adieu, and without moving your head, your. bloody paw,,and with look and tail saluting me with a last caress; then, trying to rise once more at the well- known sound .of my piece, and: falling, back .exhausted with the ‘effort: . They, say,,over there that I have avenged his death ; it is not impossible—I have looked to that 218 HUNTING DOGS: az The chase with running dogs began one day when man was very much at a loss what to do with himself... It isa long time'ago. It was some ages after the Edenie period, on the banks of the Indus or Ganges, the Tigris or the Euphra- tes, in full patriarchal. Man had gathered in his harvests; he was no longer in love, and knew not what to turn’ his hand to. . Then he took his dog aside—his dog of the herd— and said to him: It seems to me that we have been very good hitherto to suffer the ‘hyenas, the wolves and the jack- als to come to carry off our sheep and ourfowls from, amid our dwellings. Might we not in turn push a little reconnois- sanee among these incorrigible enemies, and retaliate on, them? The dog, who had laid his head on his master’s knees; to read in his eyes and feel his words, made one bound, frum his place to the door of the tent—an, eloquent manner of answering that this. warlike proposition fulfilled his dearest wishes, And then‘he ‘confided to his master, that hardly'a day passed, but in conducting his sheep to,pasture, or in’ reconnoitering near them, he meets some defenseless leveret, some timid! pig, some innocent game or other, which he. amused, ‘himself. in hunting for diversion, and also to vary his nourishment.a little. Moti Up to that time he had said nothing to his master, but-he did not less ardently sigh for the hour when it should be per- mitted him to lay aside his pastoral functions to give himself up to the full spring of his dominant passion: A treaty: was immediately concluded between the man and the beast, whose conditions were that the dog should undertake the, hardest and thorniest.,part ‘of; the: task, on account of which should be conceded to him, asthe price of ‘his assistance, the entrails of the victims. Dating from this day, a great, number of dogs, and these the most honorable, have refused ‘any other employment than that of the chase. Of his own! dog, Castagno, this piquant; Frenchman tells several. anecdotes, which, 7/ true, certainly give us ‘reason to doubt all of our hitherto received ;explanations. of canine na- ture and mentality. M. Toussenel relates: ’ 219 28 TALES AND TRADITIONS. The setter has far too much intelligence. I: know some that abuse it‘ odiously to exploit the credulity of their mas- ters. My rogue Castagno “is of this number. I desire that these lines may not come to his hearing. Once, when I had winged'a water-hen that swam to an islet covered with reeds in the midst of the Seine, I requested Monsieur Castagno, by voice and gesture, to make perquisition’ in the said place. The water was cold, the stream was rough with floating ice. The winter bath didnot appear, this day, to be to the taste of the cunning beast. He, however, pretended to obey me, and directs his steps in a small trot toward the bank; but doubtless he met in his course a piece of glass bottle ora sharp stone, for he suddenly utters a plaintive whine, and limps back to me, raising his right foot. ‘Lhave a master; it is to make use of him. Castagno is in’ the habit of recurring to my assistance for this sort of ac- cidents. I then examine and feel the painful limb in every point; impossible to find the slightest scratch. ‘The animal has lied. To the water, do you see, and quick; and pretend- ing a serious indignation, and taking out my whip, I strike the air with energy. The liar runs off on all ‘his legs, com- plaining bitterly of the whipping I have not given him, hav- ing taken great care, as I always do, to strike aside. Having come to the edge of the water, he wets his foot there and trembles through his whole body, and turns toward me, imploringly, ‘a last; look. Have I softened? ‘It is possible, for here he comes creep- ing wp to me, to finish my defeat ; but, unfortunately for him, the wretch could not tell a straight lie to the end. Just now, you recollect, it was the right foot that limped—now it is the left’; the fear of the lash has taken away his memory. The cheat was too visible, and I got’angry in earnest at this last piece of impudence ; but the traitor perceived his own awkwardness first, and finding his trick discovered, he takes his part brave- ly, leaps into the freezing waves, looks out the game, brings it and lays it at my feet with an air of vexation, seeming to say: a I thought you less of a rake than that. THE SETTER, CASTAGNO. 29 af Then, without losing, time, he sets off in full gallop,,on his four feet, for a field where he has seen some stacks of grain— straw towels, whoseuse he knows perfectly well, and returns to mein a few minutes with his skin dry;and shining; It, is a certain way of considerably humbling Castagno to remind him of this event, though ,he persists in pretending that any one else than his master would have been taken in the snare. The same. fellow, since he has remarked that I sometimes use the leaves of the “Spirit. of the Times” to wad my gun, never enters a house) in the village without lay- ing his grip on all the almanacs:, He is a well-trained setter, that never flushes in the fields—was raised:in Vendee, where the pheasant is unknown. . I ask. myself, then, where he has learned that two or three light barks are sufficient to make a pheasant fly up from the ground on a tree ; for after hunting two months in a forest, where pheasants abound, Castagno was not ashamed to use this method of the basset any, more than to steal partridges out of the.game-bags of my com- panions and, bring them, to me.. One of my friends, who knew the rogue thoroughly; and had more than once been a victim of his tricks, has surnamed him Rodin., One of Cas- tagno’s favorite sports is to hide the hunting-whips, instru ments.of which he has had cause to, complain, it would seem, ‘in his youth. _When the scamp is too. far, before me in,,the woods or field, and I permit myself to regall. him, his first impulse, the best, is to obey me; but doubtless he reflects afterward that; it may be dangerous. to allow a:master to ac- quire'a bad ‘habit, for he suddenly pretends, to have got a scent of game, and,stops motionless ina posture of interro- gation and ina half set.; It is a mode. of proceeding that means to say: My master, you see that I am fastened, here by my countersign, and that it is impossible for me to obey your orders; could you not give yourself the trouble to come tome? NowT have hardly caught up with him, when he breaks his set, and observes to me, with an air of perfect frankness, that it was only an old scent, and that he is very sorry to have called me for so small an affair! But, I have 221 30 TALES AND TRADITIONS. come three-quarters of the way, and the idle fellow has spared his trouble. He asked no more. I have often invited Castagno to vary this mystification, which he abuses; he unfortunately sticks to it, and finds it always excellent. “Charming gossip he is besides, powerfully titled in cabalism, and pushing the corporate spirit even to fanaticism. Once, when Charles Dain, the brilliant orator, the eloquent and impassioned painter of tropical nature, was relating to us a dramatic episode of the Antilles—the history of a hunter of Martinique, saved from the bite of a trigonocephalus by the devotion of his dog—Castagno, who had seemed to take an immense interest in the'relation, did not await the end of it, to offer to the narrator the energetic expression of his per- sonal satisfaction. And ‘since that day he never meets the orator without renewing the assurance of his sympathies and gratitude. At every meeting it is a siege of caresses, and all sorts of affectionate demonstrations, that seem to ‘say’: Ah, whet will you tell us another of those beautiful hunting stories that you tell so delightfully ? This will do for dog stories. If this article induces’ the reader to regard the dog more kindly, it is well to add’ that there should be discrimination even in love of the dogs. So riany of the race are such uniitigated nuisances, such public pests, that we have often urged a general ‘slaughter of the entire canine population of the States, rather than endure their disgusting habits’ and vicious propensities. It is only the occasional appearance of a truly noble and: highly intelli- gent dog that saves the race from malediction. If, therefore, the reader will own dogs, let him be sure to choose one wor- thy of his place as a household pet and companion. 222 THE BRITISH AT PERTH AMBOY $1 THE WOMAN CAPTURING THE HESSIAN, Wut the’British were in possession of the city of New York, large bodies of troops Were stationed upon Staten Tsl- and, and in the vicinity thereof, and that part of the State of ‘New Jersey embraced within a circle of ten or twelve miles from Perth Amboy, was the favorite foraging-ground of the royal troops. Numerous are the traditions preserved among the families and descendants of the sufferers from their’ rav- ages—of the midnight excursion, the bloody skirmish,’ the hasty retreat, or the rapid pursuit, as thé various patrolling parties of British soldiers, Hessian hirelings, and American militia met on this, the bloody neutral ground of New Jersey. Dunlap, in his “ History of the Arts Of Design,” describes some of the scenes to which he was ar eye-witness “while a boy, at Perth Amboy, in the following language: “Here was tobe seen a party of Forty-second Highlanders in national costume, and there a regiment of Hessians, their arms and dress a perfect contrast to the first. The slaves of Auspach and Waldech were there—the first somber as night, the sec- ond gaudy as noon. Here dashed by a party of the Seven- teenth dragoons, and there scampered'’a party of Yagers. The trim, neat, and graceful English grenadier ; the careless and half-savage Highlander, with his flowing robes and naked knees, and’ the immovably stiff German, could hardly be taken for parts of one army. Here might be seen soldiers driving in cattle, and others guarding wagons loaded with household furniture, instead of the"hay and oats they had been sent for! The landing of the grenadiers and light infantry from the ships which transplanted the troops from Rhode Island; their proud march into the hostile neighborhood, to’ gather ‘the produce of the farmer for the garrison’ the ‘sound of ‘the : 223 a = sces 3: eg = —- <= => err aS $2 TALES AND TRADITIONS. musketry, which soon rolled back upon us; the return of the disabled veterans who could retrace their steps; and the heavy march of the discomfited troops, with their wagons of groaning wounded, in the evening, are all impressed upon my mind, as pictures of, the eva and soul-stirring scenes of war. ; So frequent were these incursions,.so dangerous was this proximity to the; enemy’s stronghold, that frequently whole neighborhoods were left without the protection, of a, solitary able-bodied, man. All who were capable. of shouldering.a musket either, were enrolled, in. the ranks of the. army, or banded;together, in, small. companies. of independent. militia, which jwere, constantly patrolling the country in the-hope of cutting off the foraging parties..of, the British.. The women who were left, at home, in constant fear of attack, and never knowing when the brutal soldiery might, make their appear- ance, constantly; kept,a horse in, harness; ready at a moment’s warning to hitch up to, the wagon, into which, they would throw such valuables,.as the exigency of the case, would al- low them. to seize, and start for the; mountains, some miles distant, where they would remain until.the threatened danger was averted, or the troops had departed. ‘They, however, sometimes exhibited a spirit worthy, of the wives and daugh- ters of revolutionary sires and husbands, and many incidents are related of their daring and courage. ; On one, occasion a young, woman, whom I shall call Nancy Field, was,going from her own ;-home in Woodbridge to the house of a friend at the other end, of the willage. ‘She had been urged by her mother not. to trust, herself out of doors, as a,party of soldiers had but just passed through the place, and there was great danger that some straggler might still be;lurking. in the rear, Whose respect, for persons might not be so great as to prevent him from abusing the fair] Nancy, should she fall,into his hands, .But.she, being of a bold and _ daring disposition, and fearing no danger, determined to go upon, her errand. She;did so ; and,:as she was passing a de- _Serted house, she observed some one moving about in.one of ; 224 The Woman Capturing the Vessian. of Nae license aa SSeS NANCY).FIELD’S PRISONER. 85 the lower rooms. . Being attracted by curiosity to know who could -be;an inmate, of the, empty dwelling, she approached the window and looked in. Her gaze rested upon the figure of a half-drunken, Hessian soldier, who had straggled from his company, and was engaged in rummaging,among the odds and ends which lay,scattered about on! the floors,and in the cupboards of the deserted. mansion. Fora moment, Naucy was disposed to run; but, reflecting that: in his halfmaudlin state the soldier was not.so very dangerous, and) thinking that now was’presented an-opportunity of exhibiting her courage, she turned her steps: homeward, There, investing herself in a suit of her brother’s clothes, and, shouldering an old rusty firelock which had been cast aside as useless, she returned. to where she had left the Hessian. Carefully recfm@itering the premises, she discoyered that he had lit ‘his, pipe, prgierse having a quiet smoke in the chimney corner, sitting gti bun- dle which:he had made up. Entering the house, she ‘made boldly at him, and, presenting her firelock, demanded. his im- mediate surrender. The first impulse of the drunken German was to seize his musket, which lay upon:the floor; before him, but, in his endeavor'to. reach it, he tumbled over upon all fours, and having still sense enough left to see his apparent danger, he exclaimed, in pitiful'tones:; “I gifs up; mein Got! don’t shoot, I gifs up.”). Whereupon Nancy took possession of his musket, and ordered him to get up and march. Stag- gering to his feet, the captive, in the humblest manner, be- sought his captor not to kill him, Nancy, in imperative tones, ordered him to move on, which the, poor fellow was perfectly willing to do, provided he knew whither his captor would lead. him. . This was a stickler, for now that, Naney had secured her prisoner, she did not know what to do. with him. Luckily she bethought herself of,a. pieket).of Ameri- cans, Which she had heard was stationed two,or three miles from the village, to whom she determined to deliver her charge, , and ordered him to move in that direction.,. Fortunately, be- fore she had proceeded far on the way, she met, a, patrol, to whomishe delivered him up, glad to be rid.of her charge. 227 » — = Sees ae oe
Se — ined h i apn eens alligtlesdeearS ee eee a es Se 40 TALES AND TRADITIONS. stationed at Bordentown. He visited Mrs. Borden one day, at her elegant mansion, and’ made an effort to intimidate her. He told her that if''’she’ would persuade her husband and son, who were then in the’ American army, to join his forces, none of her property should’ be destroyed 5 but if she refused to make such exertions, he would burn her house and lay: waste her wihidle estate. ‘Unintimidated and ‘patriotic, she made the folldwing bold reply, which caused ‘the ‘execution! of the threat! “The sight’ of my house in flames would be a treat to me, for T have seen énough to know that you never injure what you have power to keep and enjoy.’ The application of a torch to my dwelling I should regard as the signal for your departite.” And such it was. We Have before us a private journal kept by the wife of an officer ih! the continental ‘army during his absence. The lady lived on Long‘ Island, on a farm lying back from Astoria, on the Est river ; and as, after Washington’s defeat-on Long Island, August 29th, 1776, the country round about Brooklyn was given ‘up to British occupation, the lady. witnessed many things worthy of record. Her journal has been published; and, as it presents a true picture of the times, we make a few extracts for our readers” profit ‘ 1776) Dee. 30th. The ‘year has’ closed disastrous) gloomy 5 panic ahd despair reign in many a°breast. ~All the future is uncertain ; none can foretell what another year’may bring forth!” Our great commander ‘is still diopeful; although he prays Congress for more effort and assistance, he never speaks a discouraging word as tothe result of the struggle. If Congress would appropriate more money, and men could be enlisted ‘on longer terms, say during the war, and properly equippéd, greater things could be done. Now, ‘no sooner are they organized, arid become a little drilled, than: the term of enlistment expires, and raw recruits take their place. 1777. Monday. Our trials in this quarter, I have no doubt, appear to you trifling and insignificant. - In comparison with the great sacrifices and noble deeds now enactingron a broader field, they are so. Nevertheless, they are irritating and 232 BANDITS OF ‘THE REVOLUTION. 41 exasperating in the extreme, and hard to be borne. Were I to undertake to relate the injuries, insults, horrors, and. suffer- ings our poor fitters are subject to, I should never finish the story They take the fence rails to burn, so thatthe fields are all-left open, atid'the cattle stray away and are often lost; burn fires all night’'on the ground, and. to, replenish them go into thé’ woods and’ cut dowmall the young saplings, thereby destroying thé growth of ages. ; But worse than all, robbers come ver from the main shore in boats, and keep us in constant ‘alarm.’ They belong to no party, and spare none; freebooters, cowardly! midnight: assassins, incendiaries, indis- criminate, bold’ and ‘daring.’ “Their hand is against every man, and every man’s hand is against them.” We have been spared, ‘as yet, on account of the Hessians and officer which’are quartered here, whonii they fear... Thus, “some strangé: comfort every state attends.” James Parker, a farmer near by, was driving, home late last evening, from the town’; the night was uicommonly dark. He passed a large tree; behind it stood: aman with a loaded gun. _A voice ordered'the traveler to stop; it) was unheeded, The robber fired and hit him; he fell off his seatand expired. The horses took fright, and running three:miles, came toa noted tavern kept by Increase Carpenter, where they stopped under a shed, and stood still until morning, when they were discovered with their sad burden, the dead man. ‘The goods in the wagon were of course untouched, owing tothe horses running away. ' The indignation of the people is without bounds, and very active measures of defense are talked. of. Friday. The farmers have devised a scheme to make known through the ‘neighborhood the presence: of ‘the ‘ Runners.” They are generally seén lurking about at twilight, spying the points most favorable ‘for attack; if observed, théy walk on in an unconcerned manner, whistling or singing. Sometimes they will stop, ‘and’ inquire the way to ‘some place; suddenly disappearing, they’ aré unexpectedly seen ‘again in the edge of the wood, or from béhind a haystack im the field, peering about, terrifying everybody, above all; women andichildren. 233 Fae ae Seanad vases = ———— enn chdaigaeaarmene oe ammhaoutt aged ee 42 TALES AND: }TRADITIONS,;- Thesé signs are not to be mistaken... We are on our guard ; the “¢reat gun” with which all are provided, is loaded and fired off. Pop! pop! go the answering guns for, fiye miles round; each house takes up the alarming talepand thus it spreads, warning of impending danger, and frightens away he enemy, for that time at any rate. Aug. 14th. Neighbor: Pattison, of his peace-loving spirit, and horror of the ‘ murderous weapon,” -hath, made a large conch-shell do the office of a gun; it makes.a noble sound, and being close in our vicinity,’ is a’ well-known signal. Charles no sooner hears it than he is onthe alert ; out comes papa’s rusty great gun, whose loud report is. soon responded to by the whole neighborhood. Monday. On every Monday, exercising is practiced oppo- site our house. ‘To-day, when the maneuvering was over, a man who had been found sintoxicated: the, night before was Stripped and whipped severely, with a ratan, till the blood streamed down his back.’ Oh, it is dreadful. to witness such horrors! | I fled from the sight, but the heart-piercing cries of the poor creature followed me. I could no longer refrain from running out of the house, and begging them to desist. They paid no attention, and closed the gate upon me. The ratan struck his cheek, perhaps. by accident, cut it open, and it bled terribly, I screamed out “‘murpER!” They were star- tled, and stopped. The appealing look of gratitude I received from the poor: maimed! soldier was sweet. reward. Mary Pattison, whose sympathy for the suffering never failed, took the poor creature in ; commiserating his pitiful condition, she dressedvhis wounds, which were. frightfully deep, and, like the good Samaritan, poured i in the oil of consolation. 1778. Monday. There is an_old proverb which saith, “ It is an ill wind which blows nobody good.” The Hessians and soldiers: billeted about. here for six months past left to-day for the mainland campaign, and the robbery, from which we have for‘some time been exempt, will now go on again. The vil- lains feared the soldiery ; dreadful tax as it is to keep them, it'is nothing in comparison to the other evil. - 6234 WASHINGTON AND THE QUAKERS. 48 1780. Monday. This neighborhood is. still infested with the odious Hessians. They are so filthy and lazy, lounging about all day long, smoking and sleeping. «The :patiencé of the good Friends is inexhaustible: . After filling up their par- lors, kitchens, and bedrooms, the whole winter, with: chests, liquor-casks, hammocks, bird-cages, guns, boots, and powder- flasks, they were last: week ordered to,Jamaica.) ‘Oh, the-re- joicing! It would flash out of the eye, though their discreet tongues spake it not. The moment the Hessians took their léave, Friend Pattison caused the broken places in the wall to be: repaired; for the Colonel’s lidy had the room ornamented all around with stuffed parrots, perched on’ sticks driven in the wall. The quarterly meting of the Society is nearat hand. They ex- pect friends a: d. relations to stop with’ them, and) make pre- parations for tl eir reception. Well, all wer putting their houses in order, when the ap- palling news spread like wildfire, ““ Zhe Hessiansiare-coming back !” ty Running to the window, ‘I deseried: them» in the» dis- tance like a cloud ot'locusts, dusty and dim; but the fife and drum, assailing our ews, if we needed additional’ evidence, convinced us that it/was too true. They had indeed been or- dered back. How many tears of vexation I shed! Thursday. No news of. importance.) A‘ deputation of Friends. was sent last montis to a place called Nine Partners, about twenty miles east of the Hudson river.. Henry Patti- son was oné of the number; h2 gives a very interesting : ac- count of their progress: They crossed the water ‘to’ Mama- roneck, and: proceeded :to "White Plainse ‘They had some questioning to undergo from the enemy, as they were obliged to pass the Continental lines; ‘and. coming from Long Island, where the British power is supreme, they had fears of being stopped ; still, believing themselves to:be in’ the way of their religious duty, they persevered. | They:passed near General Washington’s, head-quarters. On ‘approaching, they were stopped, examined severely, and handed over to the Committee 285 44 TALES AND TRADITIONS. of Safety, which declared they ¢ould not allow them. to\pro- ceed consistently with the orders they had:received. They then désired that: General Washington might: be in- formed. of their detention, and requested that he would give them an! interview. It was!igranted; they were received with marked deference and respect.’ It is the custom»of this peculiar sect to speak with moderation, never in strong terms, either'incondemnation or praise, complimentary langnage be- ing specially disapproved of. But I can gather from their quaint, though guarded phrase, that they were much struck with the elegance and dignity of General Washington’s) per- son and:address. Friend Pattison admitted that: he was a) likely man, and conducted with great) propriety—as much ‘praise .as)' they could be expected to bestow upon “a fighting character.” After politely requesting them to) be seated, the- General made close inquiry relating to the British force on the island. His) manner being calculated to inspire confidence, they very candidly told all they knew, and acquainted him’. with some facts before unknown ‘to him. General Washington inquired where they passed the night, and: said) he was entirely convinced, from his, knowledge of their Society,:and of the person with whom \they tarried; that their object was,/as they represented, entirely religious. He apologized for their detention, saying it seemed unavoid- able, and if they returned the same way, he should be happy to hear of their success ini seeing their friends. When the humble company entered the General’s presence. anaid’ stepped up and hinted to them the propriety of remov- ing their hats: Heury Pattison said: “In presence of God; in prayer alone, do. we: bow. the uncovered:‘head.' Before kings, or the mightiest of earth’s potentates, this respect is not shown. In His sight, there'is no respect of persons; in ours, all men are bretliren.” General Washington said he was/well acquainted with their customs, and some of his best friends were of their body. He advised them to go forward, and always plainly tell the truth. 236 TIDINGS OF PEACE. 45 On their return; passing again near the, camp, they availed themselves of General: Washington’s invitation. .He;appeared deeply interested:in their relation.of what they, had, seen and heard, and dismissed them with’ kind; assurances, of, regard, réquesting them!to represent to the,enemy whatever, they chose, as he knew they would tell only,the onibaie which. he was willing tortrust: 1782. Awg.L0th. News of Levid North’s peice of the office of Prime Minister, and the forming a new e¢abinet, who advise his majésty to discontinue, the war., Glorious news! Heaven grant it may be'true. . It.is,certain the war hag proved but great loss of life and tiéasure, without any real.gain to English ‘valor, or concession on the part of the Colonies, Faces of men, women and children, byighten with expecta- tion of better times... May their hope be;not again, over- clouded! In war there is'not.a gleam of light to illuminate the’darkness. Its»practi¢es yare adverse, to, the law. of. con- science, and lacerating-to the feeling heart. We are ready to shout the pean, of victory, to exult afar off in the triumph, arid to cheer onjthe conflict.. But could we witness: the? heart-sickening; details, see, the loathsome -reality; hear the piercing: groan, the horrid ,imprecation,, the fiendish laugh; «wei )should,;“ rejoice; with. trembling,”,and mourn the necessity while,we,return|thanks for, the, victory. Then let us ‘pause iin silence, and, while the. good, angel. of our thoughts brings to. ourirecollection.the frightful Gorgon- brood of evils which follow in the train of War, pray, with- out ceasing that Péeaéd may: come and reign im our land, April23/The: cry of peace resounds! ; The news came to-day. The! children’ ran from, school, dismissed, by the -téacher, that ‘all might share in the; general joy, ‘They are told that ‘some great» good’ has, happened, they know, not what. The time will come when, they will. experience, and treasure! it:’s the: highest, favor mnnohaNtesy by a kind, Provi “dence. | Godbe praised !> The soldiers and Hessians are moving off j in bands, and the sick are left’ behind, to. follow),after.,,, Many of, the poor 287 46 TALES AND TRADITIONS. creatures’ have formed attachments, and the ities of kindness and gratitude are hard to break:: The human heart, of whatever clime or station, wil respond to good treatment; and it is cheering and delightful to observe that, in spite of the great- est personal inconvenience, by patience and: good offices, we may awaken ititerest'and gratitude in those beneath us. Many of them begged to be permitted to,remain, in some menial capacity’; but the ties of kindred. prevailed with the greater part. This diary, it will be perceived, is couched. in a. spirit, of trust in God which makes its -patriotic utterances all, the more impressive. ‘Unquestionably the religious ¢lement was largely ‘developed among the leading’classes during the great struggle for our independence. The men of .’76, we are firm- ly perstiaded, when compared’ with any other body of men who have brought about impertant political changes, will ap- pear eminent for general purity of character, for the absence of egotism in all: its shapes, for a selftrenouncing lovejof country, and for that deep'sense of religion which lies at, the bottom of all really noble qualities. In illustration of this, we may mention an incident: in the life of one of them, who is scarcely known out of ‘his‘own State, and far too little in it. The Governor of Virginia,’ at-thetime of the siege of Yorktown, was a gentleman ‘who, at the commencement of the Revolutionary struggle, possessed; in addition to other advantages, the largest fortune in that then wealthy colony. He not only took his part in the ordinary dangers of that era, he not ‘only periled his life inthe high places of the field, but he likewise laid his ample fortune as an offering on the altar of his country. “The‘close ofthe war left that country free, and him. impoverished: and contented.'. This forgetful- ness of self, this loftiness of spirit, was not the characteristic of a few distinguished men—it was the temper of ‘the people at that day. The common*soldiers, marching to battle, might he tracked by the blood issuing from their naked and. lacer- ated feet. ‘Duty was the watchword. There was a fervent religious 238 a ee ee RELIGIOUS ELEMENT OF THE REVOLUTION. 47 spirit existing, more: than their descendants generally un- derstand ‘or acknowledge. Religion did not use the same dialect, or wear the same garb, as at present; she did not make broad her phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of her garments as at present ; but it may well be questioned whether her principles:were not as deeply seated in the minds of men, whether her practical influence was not as powerful and happy, whether her results were not’ as acceptable to God, and‘ as profitable to:man. How solemn and how fre- quent are the recognitions. of Divine Providence in the public documents of that day! ‘Days of humiliation for national sins, and of national thanksgivings for national/mercies; were solemnly appointed and devoutly observed. During the Revolutionary war, Mr. Jefferson, then a mem- ber of the House of Delegates of Virginia, from the county of Albemarle, wrote to the minister of the) parish in that county, urging upon him the most solemn observance of a fast, then recently appointed by the Legislature. This proves either that Mr. Jefferson’s own sentiments on religious. sub- jects were, at’ that’ time, more sound than they became after his residence in Paris, and his intercourse with) the French Encyclopedists, or that he knew the strength of the religious feelings of the people; and wished them enlisted in favor of the cause in which he was embarked. In either point of - view it is significant. Of this religious feeling there was a remarkable expression in the Convention which framed our present Constitution. Their deliberations were not proceeding happily, and there seemed to be danger that they would break up without effect- ing the object for which they had met. _ Under these cireum- stances, Dr. Franklin, a man not considered remarkable among his cotemporaries, for a devotional spirit, rose and said, “that he had lived a long time, and’ the longer he lived the more convincing proofs he saw that God governed in the affairs of men, je firmly believed what, was taught, in the sacred writ- ings, that ‘except the Lord build the house, they labor.in vain who, build) it”. "That. he attributed ‘their ill-suecess to 239 il cena sees ren SS SS eae Seg Eg Rg ed 48 TALES AND TRADITIONS: their not humbly applying to the Father of Lights to illumi- nate their understandings; and he moved that prayers, implor- ing the assistance:of ;Heaven, ‘and its: blessing on,their delib- erations, be henceforth: held.” How sublime and affecting. was ‘the sight, when, according to his proposal, that assemblage of »world-famons. ‘men, gal- lant: warriors, eminent statesmen, illustrious: sages, knelt in prayer,and asked | for the wisdom*which they confessed they had not. It :was indeed a.:characteristi¢)cand, memorable scene. Those) magnanimous’ men, thati had recently. brayed the fury ofthe most:powerfulménarch upon earth, that, had never feared:the face of mortal, now: hunibled: themselves like little children before: Almighty, God, ,acknowledged their weakness, and» craved -his fatherly hélp'and blessing. And shall-we not bélieve’ that they received it? Nothing could make us: doubtvit! but the degenéracy of: their, descendants. Whg could now say of jan: American Congress; what; Lord Chatham said. of the Congress of his day, that,.‘* compared with a Roman Senate,;:it) deserved ‘the preference for dignity and for wisdom.” How bitter a sarcasm)would such,an ob- servation be, after one of those scenes of personal altercation and reviling which disgrace every session, and which make the cheek of a true-hearted American to burn with shame and indignation when he reads. them. “¢ THE BATTLE OF BLOODY, BROOK, In the Autumn of ‘the year 1675, @ little !army of brave men had assembled at the town of Hadley, onthe banks of the Connecticut river, to defend that place’and the’ neighboring hamlets'‘from the attacks of the Indians) Who, banded together under the command ofthe brave Philip, had committed many and serious depredations along the valley of the river. Among 240 "490197 Apoolg 30 anand ans ‘yoorg Apoojg JO ewg oy, Nit f ey ~sr ANY ALP Wg) ‘ASLAN, SS “LA, ; ES i i i i ryt ‘PHILIP’S AMBUSCADE. 51 other towns which had suffered from the malignant hate of the savages, was Deerfield, a few miles above Hadley. This place had been. partially burned and the inhabitants scattered during the previous summer, and there yet remained in the fields some three thousand. bushels of wheat, in stacks, just as the husbandman had left it when.driven from his home. It was desirable not only to obtain this for the use of the little army and the numerous families who had assembled at, Had- ley for protection, but also to keep it from falling into the hands. of the Indians, and it was decided to send a party to thresh it out and transport it to head-quarters, Captain La- throp was appointed to command the detail of sixty-six men and eighteen teamsters, who had been selected for the expe- dition. It was made up of young men, the very “flower of the country,” who burned to distinguish themselves in aid of the cause which they were assembled to defend—the sanctity of their-homes and firesides, Many a cheek was wet as they took up their march toward their destination, and many a maiden heaved a deep-drawn sigh as her lover disappeared from her sight; for, although no immediate danger was apprehended, yet. none knew in those troublous times when the storm might break upon their “devoted heads, and overwhelm them in its fury. The depart- ure of so considerable a body of their choicest men, therefore, gave cause of uneasiness to all, and unnumbered prayers were offered to Heaven for their. safe return. Arriving in safety at. Deerfield, the men commenced with a will the performance of their work, and the grain was threshed out, the teams loaded, and with light hearts they started to return to their expectant friends. The savage enemy had, howeyer, through their numerous spies, obtained intelligence of the expedition, and determined to cut it off. Collecting a body of. between six and seven hundred warriors, Philip* narrowly watched the movements of Captain Lathrop and his * History makes no mention of Philip as connected with this battle. But from well authenticated Indian tradition, as wellas from the fact that he is known to have been absent from Mount Hope—~his residence—at the time, it is almost certain that he planned and led on the tHe 243 et A an ere a ae Bi oa 52 TALES AND TRADITIONS. party, and when they started to return, he planned an ambus- cade at a spot which in every way was suited to his purpose. After leaving Deerfield, for some three miles the road ran nearly parallel with the Connécticut river, through a level country ; it then diverged, and for half a mile ran along the edge of a morass, which it crossed, and took a southerly di- rection toward Sugar-loaf hill, across what are now the “ home lots,” to the eastward of the village of South Deerfield. The morass was covered with a thick growth of underbrush, which afforded concealment for the savage foe, who, with nos- “trils dilated and eyes gleaming with deadly hate, lay in wait- ing, like a’ cotichant tiger, trembling in their 'éagerness to spring upon their unsuspecting victims. Little dreaming of the danger which lurked in their path, the littlé company of ‘brave hearts came onward to their fate. "With. lamentable carelessness, Lathrop failed’to throw out flankers on his front and flanks, but marched blindfold into the snare laid for him ‘by the ‘cunning Philip. Crossing the niorass, without. sus- pecting the proximity of their foe, the little band reached the banks of a small stream, or rivulet, which crossed the road, near which, tradition informs us, gréw gredt quantities of the luscious ‘wild grapes, which were ripening in the’ sun, and “the! tempting ‘bunches hung in profusion from among the branches of the surrounding trees. While waiting for the teams to draw their heavy loads through the morass, they carelessly piled their ‘arms and hastened to partake. of the tempting repast so bountifully spread. Now was the opportunity for the savage foe, and“ quick as fire from smitten steel,” a volley was poured upon the de- voted youths which laid low many a promising form. Cool and calm under all circumstances, and as brave as cool, they rallied at the word, and, seizing their arms, dealt back upon their fiend-like enemy a shower of balls which made many a warrior bite the dust. A’ second, and a third, aimed with a clear eye and steady, nerves, told so well that the savages be- gan to waver, A gleam of hope broke through the fearful prospect, ‘and fora moment they dreamed of’ victory. But 244 THE, MASSACRE. 53 now appears the savage form of the Wampanoag chief, and in tl under-tones he cheers on his band. The dusky warriors rally at the sound of his thrilling voice, and surrounding the brave pale-faced youths, they dealt death, on every side. With half their number slain, the heroic little band perceives now the hopelessness of their situation and the certainty of their fate. Nota nerve thrilled with fear, not a heart faltered, but calmly, they determined to sell their lives at fearful cost to the foe. One by one they fall, a gory harvest to their mother earth, and the crimson life-blood, from their still beating hearts, finds its way in many a rill to the neighboring stream, and, mixing with its waters, christens it ‘“ Bloody Brook.” Early in the action their brave leader was shot down while cheering on his men, and now, falling faster as their numbers decrease, a solitary few are all that are left to contend against the overwhelming force of the enemy. The foremost. of these, turning to encourage his comrades, finds but seven remaining of all that goodly company. Finding that further resistance will only add to the scalps of the vic- tors, they dashed through their enemy’s line and ran for the Deerfield riyer, pursued by two hundred savage warriors. Two only lived to reach its banks. One attempted to swim the stream, but sunk, pierced by.a dozen balls; the other managed to slide silently into the water, where he fae screened by a fallen tree and the rank grass, until the Indians gaye up the search and returned to the bloody field to secure the scalps of the dead and dying. When all was still, and during the darkness ot the night, he swam across the river, and, stiff and cold, began his march for Hadley, where he arrived on the following day, the last and only survivor of the battle of Bloody Brook. Returning to the ensanguined field, the savages commenced to strip the much- coveted trophies from the still warm bodies of their victims.. Not satisfied with this, they severed the heads from their trunks, in their infernal joy, and raising them upon the points of poles, danced around them in fiendish glee, while fresh streams’ o blood added their purple tint to tho 245 se a RE EE ——— a 54 TALES AND TRADITIONS. little brook, which for days ran red with the richest tide that ever rivulet bore. Their savage revelry was suddenly stopped, however, by the appearance of a party unde? the command of Captain Mosely, who, having heard the firing, had. hastened to Lathrop’s relief. But, alas! too late. Fired with ven- geance at the sight of their mangled comrades, they broke through the savage foe, and charging back and forth, cut down all within range of their shot. After several hours of hard fighting, and Captain Treat coming up with ‘additional force, the Indians were compelled to retreat, with a loss of ninety-six warriors. Mosely lost only two killed. The dead were collected and buried, and, within a few years, 4 marble monument has been erected over the spot where they fought and fell. =! Another massacre, quite similar in its character—owing its fatal success to the betrayal of the enterprise to the savages— was the night conflict at the creek just above Detroit, now called, in commemoration of the event, ‘ Bloody Run.” Dur- ing the memorable siege of Detroit by the Indians under the great Ottawa chief, Pontiac, 1763, the brave English garrison was reinforced by a strong detachment sent up frém Niagara, in bateaux, under command of Captain Dalzell.’ This réin- forcement reaching the beleaguered. post in safety, placed the garrison in a position of offense.’ ‘The savages, composed of the “ braves” of the combined tribes of Potawatomies, Wy- andots, and Ottawas, were. as watchful and as ferocious’ as hyenas, but they had to deal with men as brave as they, and who, in the end, triumphed over thei barbarous assailants. Seeing how affairs stood, the bold Dalzell-at once conceived the enterprise of a night attack upon the savages encamped beyond the stream above referred to. Gladwyn; at first, did not favor the sally, knowing the strength and ceiseless vigi- lance of the great chief; but,the lion-hearted Captain would hear no refusal, and was. so urgent and strenuous that the commandant at length yielded.* * This is the'same Dalzell who was a joint hero with Israel Putnam in many of his most memorable adventures. 246 « CANADIAN TREACHERY. 55 On the thirtieth of July, orders were issued, and prepara: tions made for,the attack. With an unpardonable want of discretion, some of the officers allowed several Canadians to know. their. intentions, one of whom betrayed it all to Pon- tiac. As might -have been expected, the wily chief made every thing ready to: receive the assailants.. At two o’clock in the morning, two hundred and fifty soldiers, two deep, passed noiselessly through the gates and marched up the left river- bank. Two. large bateaux, each containing a swivel, kept abreast of them, in the Detroit river. The advanced guard of twenty-five was led, by Lieutenant Brown, the center by Captain Gray; and the rear by Captain Grant. “The night was still, close and sultry, and the men marched in light un- dress. On their right was the dark, gleaming surface of the river, with a margin of sand intervening; on their left a succession of Canadian houses, with barns, orchards and corn- fields, from. whence the clamorous barking of wateh-dogs saluted them. as they passed. The inhabitants, roused from sleep, looked from) the windows in astonishment and alarm. An old man has told the writer how, when a child, he climbed on the roof of his father’s house, to look down on the glim- mering bayonets, and how, long after the troops had passed, their heayy and measured tramp sounded from afar through the still night. Thus the English moved forward to the at- tack, little thinking that, behind houses and inclosures, Indian scouis watched every yard of their progress—little suspecting that Pontiac, apprised by the Canadians of their plan, had broken up his camp, and was coming against them with all his warriors, armed and decorated for battle.” The Indian village or camp is beyond a small stream which puts in from the western shore, a short distance above De- troit. At the point where the bridge crosses it, the stream descended, through ,a deep and wild-looking hollow, while “upon the opposite side, the river-bank rose in several ridges. Here Pontiac had erected several intrenchments, besides throwing together several piles of cordwood, further on. * 247 j psc naan pirmas tee perenne a are a TT i St Sa ee ee aed = See ae Sawesaiaeerape 56 TALES AND TRADITIONS. Behind these were crouching hundreds of Indians, who, with guns ready-cocked, listened to the dull tramp of the approach. ing soldiers. The advanced guard had crossed the bridge, and the main body was just entering, when loud yells burst forth, anda sheet of fire flamed along the whole ridge, like the broadside of a frigate.’ One-half the advanced guard fell dead, and the others recoiled in. terror; but Dalzell, in his clear, stirring voice, inspired his men with his own courage. Advancing to the front; he led them to the attack. A second volley was poured into them, when, furious with rage, he led the men on a rapid run across the ridge; but not an Indian was visible. Half frantic with fear and fury, the’soldiers charged behind the fence and the intrenchments, but the agile savages were gone. The night had now become of inky darkness, and the men were soon scattered and lost among the houses and inclosures. The only resource left was to retreat and wait for daylight. Accordingly, Captain Grant led his men across the bridge, where the others soon followed, with the exception of a small party, which remained ‘to check the rapid pursuit of the enemy. Amid a hot firing upon both sides, the dead and wounded were placed in the two bateaux. ' Immediately after, the rapid report of musketry was heard im the rear, where Captain Grant was stationed. The shots had come from the house of Meloche and the surrounding orchards, where large numbers of savages had intrenched themselves. Captain Grant charged right at them, driving them at the point of the bayonet from the orchard and from the house, , where they found two Canadians, who stated that the Indians had gone in great numbers to occupy the houses below, from which they intended to cut off their retreat. This being the case, the only hope was in instant retreat. The men were collected in marching order, and the march commenced, Captain Grant leading, and Dalzell bringing up the rear. Numbers of Indians dogged them, and when their fire became too galling, the soldiers wheeled and returned it. Tn this manner they proceeded for over half a nrile, when 248 DALZELL’S. RETREAT; 57 they came abreast of a number of, barns protected by strong pickets. These were safely passed: by the adyance party ; but when the center and rear came opposite, loud yells greet- ed them, ‘and a most murderous volley was poured. into their ranks. The men shrunk, hesitated. and reeoiled, and. had it not been for Dalzell, would have broke -and; fled... Though severely woundéd himself, he commanded, threatened, and, it is said, smvute several timid ones with the.flat. of his sword. His ‘persistent: efforts partially restored the. men, when. the fire was returned with considerable effect. It was now near daybreak, andsthe incessant rattle of rifles, together with the horrid yells of the Indians, so drowned the voices of the leaders that their commands could not be heard. The soldiers read their orders only in the excited faces and frenzied gestures. One of the houses had been filled by the savages and from its windows scores of rifles were.continually . _ flashing. Major Rogers at/the head of /his rangers split open the door with an ax and burstin among them like)a thunder- bolt. They fled in every direction, as the rangers swarmed in. At the same instant, Oaptain Gray was sent.to dislodge a number that were firing from, behind the fences. .. He charged them at the head of his company, but.fell with a mortal wound before he reached them. His men kept on and routed the In- dians. The retteat was now resumed with comparatively good order. The fire of the Indians -had nearly ceased, but, leaping forward they seized the stragglers, cut, them. down and scalped them without mercy. A poor sergeant of. the 55th, so wounded that he could not walk, raised himself on his hands and gazed after his: retreating comrades with such a despairing, beseeching expression, thatthe noble-hearted Dalzell, now wounded himself’ in two places, ran toward him with the intention of rescuing the man from his. inhuman enemies. As he reached out his arms: to,seize the wounded soldier, a shot struck him and he fell dead before him. None paused to see their fate. There was no time. Death was hanging on their rear, The Indians were rapidly concentrating theilftburabers 249 ee - =i rahe al ln een ee eee ———— = = a - — 58 TALES ANDi TRADITIONS. again, and the massacre would» have been far more dreadful, had not Rogers with his. rangers taken possession of another house, which commanded the road and protected ‘the retreat. The account of this battle by Parkman is so graphic and truthful that we transcribe’that portion descriptive of the re- maining part of the fight: “ Rogers entered this house with some of his men, while many panic-stricken regulars broke in after him, in their eager- ness to gain'a temporary shelter. ‘The house was a large and strong one, and the-women of the neighborhood had crowded into the cellar for refuge. “While some of the soldiers looked in blind terror for a place of concealment, others seized upon a’ keg of whisky in one‘of the rooms, ‘and ‘quaffed the liquor with eager thirst, while others, again, piled packs of furs, furniture, and all else within their reach, against the windows, to’serve as a barricade. Panting and breathless, their. faces moist with sweat and blackened with gunpowder, they thrust . their muskets through the openings, and fired out upon the whooping assailants. At intervals a bullet flew whizzing through a crevice, striking down. a man, perchance, or rap- ping harmlessly against the partitions. Old Campau, the master of the house, stood on a’ trap-door to prevent: the frightened soldiers from seeking shelter among the women in the cellar. ‘A ball grazed his gray head, arfd buried itself in the wall, wheré'a few ‘years since it might’ still have been seen. The screams of the half-stifled women below, the quivering war-whoops without, the shouts and curses of ‘the soldiers, the groans and blaspheming of the wound¢d. men, mingled in a scene of clamorous confusion, and it was long before the authority of Rogers could restore order. “Tn the mean time, Captain Grant, with his/advance party, had moved forward about half a mile, when he found some | 2 orchards and inclosures, by means of which he could maintain 1 himself until the center’ and rear should arrive. Frony this he pointihe detached all the men he could, spare to occupy the th houses below ; and as soldiers soon began to come in from the i | rear, hé was enabled to reinforce these, detachments, until a ; 250 CAPTAIN GRANT. 59 complete line of communication was established with the fort and the retreat effectually secured. Within an hour the whole party had arrived, with the exception of Rogers and his men, who were quite unable to come off, being besieged in the house of Campau, by full two hundred Indians. »'The two armed bateaux had gone down to the fort, laden with the dead and ‘wounded: ‘They now returned, and, in obedience to an order from Captain Grant, proceeded up the river to a point opposite Campau’s house where ‘they opened a fire of swivels, which’ swept the ground above and below it, and completely scattered the assailants. Rogers and his party now came out and marched down the road, to unite them- selves with Grant. The two bateaux accompanied them closely, and by a constant fire, restrained the Indians from making an attack. Scarcely had Rogers left the house at one door; when the enemy entered it at another, to obtain the scalps from two or three corpses left behind. Foremost of them all, a withered old squaw rushed in, with a shrill scream, and slashing open one of the dead bodies with her knife, scooped up the blood between her hands, and quaffed it with a ferocious ecstasy.” The retreat was conducted so admirably by Captain Grant that not another of his men was injured. At eight o’clock in the morning, the last man of the decimated detachment was received within the walls of the fort, when it was found that fifty-nine had been killed and wounded. [The Indians had not lost more than one-fourth that number,* it was after- ward ascertained. | The death of the noble Dalzell, and so many of his brave men, spread a gloom for the time over Detroit. All felt that, had not the Canadians proved traitors, the Indians would have been most completely punished. The condition of the garrison, however, was now much better than it had ever been. There were over three hundred men within t clo- sure, every one of whom had had abundant expepience in * Some authorities give the losses of the English as seventy, es forty wounded, 2. i ~ sg hth 60 TALES AND TRADITIONS. Indian warfare. These were well provided with ammunition and provisions, and Gladwin felt that the raising of the siege was only a question of time, and perhaps of eternity with a few more of his brave fellows. Pontiac was so overjoyed with his success, that he sent his runners for hundreds of miles through the adjoining country, with news of the battle. Vast numbers came from great dis tances to join him, until over a thousand were dancing and yelling in his village, and he became stronger in.his_ belief that the garrison would eventually fall into his hands. The vision of vengeance which haunted him seemed to demonize all around him. 252 — i ) | 5 | a Bt! iy i F Ht ay) 1 : aq i i | 4 i | Hy \ Hy 1 | ® i il ft } . ae = ¥ a SE aE = Soar => a = = es re ees : ——s = —— = —— saees = St rae I = — = =— =e i Be a2 Us es Se - a —— — — ra =e See edaiecs oeeane ee ree = Se a eee ae ee ee cHAC FH ROUS BHA 2 es 14, of the DKS OF ROMANCE AND ADVENTURE! epted, among other delightful narratives, the true story of THE BEAUTIFUL SPY; ORY Put’s” Dangerous Guest. wet Monericff has been: the theme of story and song, .A romantic girl of t major in the British army—sought the protection of the American army, hh s of war, bat really to act the part of spy for Lord Howe, How she fj ‘she pursued, this volume tells. It also gives, as well: Emily Geiger’s Brave Jj he True Heart of the Hudson; Col. Crawford’s Fatal Campaign; a Border 7@ mpe’s True Story, ete., elc.—altogether making a very delightful and: inspirit- | fi | ad, Four full-page illustrations in each volame! The best and | 4 S PREV LOUSLY PUBLISHED : CRUSOE. A beautifully ilnstrated edition, printed in large oc- | § illustrations from oriyinal designs by GrorGk WHITE, s or, the Cruise of the Adelnide, A says’ Tale of etnies’ | Marshall °4 2 CHIC , The Qoaker- Among the Red-skins. By J, Stanley BORD ER. BOY; Simon Keriton’s Indian Torture-Ride ; Murphy Saving f Eh Gi RL SOLDIER; Joe Logston’s Fight with an Indian; General Mor- i on Boys’ Eseape. A Great Hunting Adventure; Elerson’s Famous. Ra E BOY SENTINEL; Tecumseh and the Prison mo) Prat T HE BOY CAPTIVE; + Womén Defending the Wagon; Moody, the Refagee ; TRY ee THE TYRANT; The Chieftain’s Appeal ; Mrs. = imb ¢ Moore's KEN TON SAVING BOONE; The Minnesota Captive ; Stephen Ball} Palmer and Putnam MA D ANN, T THE HUNTRESS; Jacob Wetzel Saved by hi Ey ; Coucoochee'’s Talk. 12 PETER FRANCISCO, THE WESTERN SAMSON ; T= x Howard; Hughes Killing the Turkey ; ; Hamiltoa Saving his Cloth. 13--THE DOG AVENGER; Magnanimity of Rohn-yen-ness ; Women Captur a lessian ; Battle of Bloody Brogk. « ‘ i : The above books are sold by all newsdealers; or sént, ‘eaaiak to any address, ov Tee BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publisher 98 William tre ease N. a OS xe ceip re