, ,v -^ .^0' ,-0' . >> "^ •' /, "-^ ' B J, ■^^ O ^0 o. '■'^ ^^. /- ^'^ ^^- ,<^'' v^ .^-' "^f-. \.^ ,0-' .s'^ o '^, ■ G^" ^ ^^ ^^em^l \^ 0^ v'?^ .■?-' A" xX . ^> '.^ -^ ■<< V ^^pigitiz^dj^by tPi^mferliet ArcftiVe !^^o" Jn 2011 with funding from j^o^ TM.yb!:^r}^ of CongVess -J- ^'^""''hftp://W3A/JH' THE ]S1TJ S E U M OF PERILOUS ADVENTURES AND DARING EXPLOITS; BEING A RECORD OF TllRlLLIKG MRKATiVES HEROIC ACIIIEVEME^^TS ilsTD HAZAHDOUS ENTERPRISES, KsTEESPERSED WITH NUMEROUS ACCOUNTS OF THE MOST SINGULAR AND ENTERTAINING FACTS, FOUND IN HISTORY ; A.H3 EilBRACING A. MOST OTTEtOUS AND nfTEKESTING VARIETY OF VALUABLE READING, FOTl ALL CLASSES, PREPARED FROM ATTTHENTIO D0GTJMENT8, iND EMBELLISHED WITH NUMEROUS A.ND EITERSLPIED COLORED ENGRAVINGS. CHICAGO, ILL.: O. F. GIBBS. 1863. ,A Y^*^ Entered according to Act of Congress in the jear 1859, hy a & F. BILL. SbHf ::\ TnrJ^i^\ PREFACE. Every person, whether of highly cultivated talents, or of ordinary acquirements, can be amused and entertained by the kind of reading which this book will place before him • and it is with a view to furnish recreation for the leisure of all classes of intelligent readers, that the pub- lisher undertakes the work. The object of the compiler .has been to embody, in a popular form, a well chosen selection of those treasured incidents of noble greatness, daring enterprise, and fearless intrepidity, which adorn the page of history, and exhibit the strong traits of human character, worthy of being imi- tated or avoided. It was a custom of the ancients, to keep continually before the minds of the young, the biographies of dis- tinguished men, and to make them familiar with the mci- dents of virtuous and heroic achievement ; and most of those great men whose actions have stamped them on the page of history, as the heroes and lawgivers of their time, have owed their celebrity to the impulse thus given to their youthful genius. With the belief that there is emphatically a call for such a work, the publisher has made every endeavor to bring before the public a book adapted to so laudable a pur- PREFACE. pose, and he confidently nopes it will be foui. patronage. The articles composing this work h compiled from a large mass of materials, replete wit. derful and intense interest, and selected with a particular care and discrimination. For the most part, the selections are confined to known ficts ; though, in some cases, articles are adopted particu arly on account of their interest, while their authenticity may not be so clear. CONTENTS. Tiger's Cave, . . * • Attempt to take Arn9ld, * . The Wild Turkey, . The Fire Ship, .... Trial for Murder, Incidents in the Battle of Lake Erie The black Assassin, . Adventure of a Kentucky Settler, Mutiny at Sea, . . . . The dead alive. The Backwoods of America, . Capture of Ticonderoga, . Mysterious interposition of Providence, Girl rescued from an Indian, . . Capture and Escape of General Wadsworth, State Prison Revolt, .... The Shark Sentinel lustice against Law, . . . . Horrid Punishment Toe Call, the Modern Hercules, . Massacre of Major Dade's Detachment, Chamberlain and Paugus, . . , The Resolute Lover, .... 1^, «rnd two Indians, . . 11 17 24 29 32 46 50 55 61 66 72 78 81 85 90 115 122 124 126 128 133 139 143 148 8 CONTENTS. Story of a Hunter, ..'....« * 153 Ascending Mount Blanc, ...••••• 15S Shipwreck, Suffering, and Murder, . . • • . « 163 Foolish Fright, . 169 Yates and Downing, * . . ■ , . • . 173 Thrilling Sketch, . 177 Remarkable Ssectral Elusion • • • • • . 182 The Prairie 185 Buried Alive, .... • • • . 191 Extraordinary Achievement, . . • ■ . 195 The Trysting Tree, .200 Revenge and Assassination in a Church, . . • • . 201 The Ill-fated Steamer Ben Sherrod . 205 General Arnold and the Spy, 213 Highland Honor, .216 One White Man to two Indians, ...... 219 Destruction of a Pirate Ship, ", . . . . . . 223 A Tragedy in Real Life, ... ... 228 Retribution 234 Execution in the Harem, ...... . 237 The Panther Hunter, 242 Female Heroism Exemplified, ....... 245 Loss of the Mexico, ......... Sid Loss of the Steamer Pulaski, . . . . . . , 255 Courtship on a Fragment of the Pulaski, 267 The Escape, 270 Caspar Karlinski, 277 Calum Dim, . . 27« The hardest fend-off — or, the Bear and the Alligator, . . . 286 Frightful Adventvu-e with a Tiger, 291 Battle Ground of Tippecanoe 296 Unparalleled Bravery of a Woman, ...... 300 Remarkable Presence of Mind 303 The Duchess Caroline of Wurtembeig, 306 The Tiger — or. Life in a Jungle, 315 The Midnight Revel, 319 Female Intrepidity, .,.••; ^ 323 CONTENTS. y PAGE Heroism of Madanse Lavergne, • • . e . 324 The Buried Aliva 328 Combat with a Bull, 331 The Young Warriors, . • 336 St. Mary's Spire, Manchester, 34J Mutiny at Sea 342 The Deserters, ......... 343 The Sky Leapers . . 35^ Traits of Waterloo, 3G0 Adventure in the Mammoth Cave, " . . . . . . 363 Singular Escape from Death, ....... 364 Escape from a Lion, 366 Remarkable Self-Possession, , 363 Stonington Heroism, 373 The Irish Magistrate 380 An Adventure, . . . . . • 384 The Lion, .387 A Perilous Situation, ....... . 392 An Adventure with a Cobra de Capella, ... .396 Elephant Hunting, , , 398 Putnam Outdone, . 403 The Generous Cavalier 407 Fight between a Tiger and an Elephant, 411 Intrepidity of an American Officer, ..... 415 Adventure with the Indians, 416 Poisoning in the Seventeenth Century, 423 Hannah Lamond and the Eagle, 431 Iroquois Boy, , . 436 Dreadful Mystery, 443 The Raid of Cillechrist, 445 Ingenuity of Sir Matthew Hale, . .... 451 Lion Hunt of the Malay Station, 455 The Man in the Bell, 457 The Madman, 463 Skill in Arctiery, ' 1 ....... . 468 Charles Hess .... 472 The Capture of the Frigate President, . . _ , , 478 10 CONTENTS. PAOt Wonderful Preservation, • • • 484 Bear Hunting in Maine, ...... . 492 Washington and the Horse, ..••••• 495 C' Modern Brutus, .....••«, t99 DARING EXPLOITS PERILOUS ADVENTURES. THE TIGER'S CAVE. On leaving the Indian vL age, we continued to wind round Chimborazo's wide base ; but its snow-crowned Head no longer shone above us in clear brilliancy, for a dense fog was gathering gradually around it. Our guides looked anxiously towards it, and announced their appre- hensions of a violent storm. We soon found that their fears were well grounded. The thunder began to roll, and resounded through the mountainous passes with the most terrific grandeur. Then came the viyid lightning ; flash following flash — above, around, beneath — everywhere a sea of fire. We sought a momentary shelter in a cleft of the rocks, whilst one of our guides hastened forward to seek a more secure asylum. In a short time, he returned, and informed us that he had discovered a spacious cavern, which would afford us sufficient protection from the ele- ments. We proceeded thither immediately, and, with great difficulty, and not a little danger, at last got into it. When the storm had somewhat abated, our guides ve n- lured out in order to ascertain if it were possible to con- tinue our journey. The cave in which we had taken refuge, was so extremely dark, that, if we moved a few paces from the entrance, we could not see an inch befoYe us ; and we were debating as to the propriety of leaving it, even before the Indians came back, when we suddenly heard a singular groaning or growling in the further end 12 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. of the cavern, which instantly fixed all our attention. Wharton and myself listened anxiously ; but our d^tr- ing and inconsiderate young friend Lincoln, togethe/ with my huntsman, crept about upon their hands and knees, and endeavored to discover, by groping, iron; whence the sound proceeded. They had not advanced far into the cavern, before w*' heard them utter an exclamation of surprise ; and thej returned to us, each carrying in his arms an animal sin gularly marked, and about the size of a cat, seemingly of great strength and power,and furnished with immense fangs. The eyes were of a green color ; strong claws were upon their feet ; and a blood-red tongue hung out of their mouths. Wharton had scarcely glanced at them, whe« he exclaimed in consternation, " We have come into the den of a — ." He was interrupted by a fearful cry of dismay from our guides, who came rushing precipitately towards us, calling out, "A tiger! a tiger!" and at the same time, with extraordinary rapidity, they climbed up a cedar tree, which stood at the entrance of the cave, and hid themselves among the branches. After the first sensation of horror and surprise, M^hich rendered me motionless for a moment, had subsided, I grasped my lire-arms. Wharton had already regained his composure and self-possession ; and he called to us to assist him instantly iny blocking up the mouth of the cave with an immense stone, which fortunately lay near it The sense of approaching danger augmented our strengtn for we now distinctly heard the growl of the ferociou* animal, and we were lost beyond redemption if he reach- ed the entrance before M^e could get it closed. Ere thif was done, we could distinctly see the tiger bounding to- wards the spot, and stooping, in order to creep into his den by the narrow opening. At this fearful moment, our exertions were successful, and the great stone kept the wild beast at bay. •There was a small open space, however, left between the top of the entrance and the stone, through which we could see the head of the animal, illuminated by his glow- ing eyes, which- he rolled glaringly with fury upon us. His frightful roaring, too, penetrated to the depths of the THE tiger's cave. 13 cavern, and was answ^ered by the hoarse growling of the cubs. Our ferocious enemy attempted first to remove the stone with his powerful claws, and then to push it with his head from its place ; and these efforts, proving abor- tive, served only to increase his wrath. He uttered a tre- mendous, heart-piercing howl, and his flaming eyes darted light into the darkness of our retreat. '•'Now is the time to fire at him," said Wharton with his usual calmness ; " aim at his eyes, the ball will go through his brain, and we shall then have a chance to get rid of liim." Frank seized his double-barrelled gun, and Lincoln his pistols. The former placed the muzzle within a few inches of the tiger, and Lincoln did the same. At Wharton's command, they both drew the triggers at the same moment ; but no shot followed. The tiger, who seemed aware that the flash indicated an attack upon him, sprang growling from the entrance, but, feeling himself unhurt, immediately turned back again, and stationed himself in his formei place. The powder in both pieces was wet. " All is now over," said Wharton ; " we have only now to choose whether we shall die of hunger, together with these animals who are shut up along with us, or open the entrance to the blood-thirsty monster without, and so make a quicker end of the matter." So saying, he placed himself close beside the stone, which, for the moment, defended us, and looked undaunt- edly upon the lightning eyes of the tiger. Lincoln raved, and Frank took a piece of strong cord from his pojcket, and hastened to the further end of the cave ; I knew not with what design. We soon, however, heard a low, stifled groaning ; and the tiger, which had heard it also, became more restless and disturbed than ever. He went backwards ana forwards before the entrance of the cave, in the most wild and impetuous manner ; then stood still, snd, stretching out his neck in the direction of the forest, broke forth in a deafening howl. Our two Indian guides took advantage of this oppor- tunity, to discharge several arrows from the tree. He was struck more than once ; but the light weaipons bounded back harm, ess from his thick sldn. At length, however 2 i4 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. one «jf them struck him near the eye, and the arrow re- mained sticking in the wound. He now broke anew into the wildest fury, sprang at the tree, and tore it with his claws, as if he would have dragged it to the ground. But having, at length, succeeded in getting rid of the arrow, he became more calm, and laid himself down, as before, ia front of the cave. Frank now returned from the lower end of the den,, and a glance showed us what he had been doing. In each hand, and dangling from the end of the string, were two cubs. He Jiad strangled them ; and, before we were aware what he intended, he threw them through the opening to the tiger. No sooner did the animal perceive them, than he gazed earnestly upon them, and began to examine them closely, turning them cautiously from side to side. As soon as he became aware that they were dead, he uttered so piercing a howl of sorrow, that we were obliged to put our hands to our ears. The thunder had now ceased, and the storm had sunk to a gentle gale ; the songs of birds were again heard in the neighboring forest, and sunbeams sparkled m the drops that hung from the leaves. We saw, tlnrough the aperture, how all nature was reviving, after the •wild war of ele- ments, which had so recently taken place ; but the contrast only made our situation the more horrible. We were in a grave from which there was no deliverance ; and a monster worse than the fabled Cerberus, kept watch over us. The tiger had laid himself down beside his whelps. He was a beautiful animal, of great size and strength ; and his limbs being stretched out at their full length, displayed his im- mense pov/er of muscle. A double row of great teeth stood far enough apart to show his large red tongue, from which the white foam fell in large drops. All at once another roar was heard at a distance, and the tiger im- mediately rose and answered it with a mournful howl. At the same instant, our Indians uttered a shriek, wliich announced that some new danger threatened us. A few moments confirmed our worst fears ; for another tiger, not quite so large as the former, came rapidly towards the spot where we were. Tte aowls which the tigress gave, when she had ex THE tiger's cave 15 amined the bodies of her cubs, surpassed every thing horri- ble that we had yet heard ; and the tiger mingled his mournful cries with hers. Suddenly her roaring was lowered to a hoarse growling, and we saw her anxiously stretch out her head, extend her wide and smoking nostrils, and look as if she was determined to discover immediately the murderers of her young. Her eyes quickly fell upon us, and she made a spring forward, with the intention of panetrating to our place of refuge. Perhaps she might have been enabled by her immense strength to push away the stone, had we not, with all our united power, held it against her. When she found that all her efforts were fruitless, she approached the tiger, who lay stretched out beside his cubs, and he rose and joined in her hollow roar- ings. They stood together for a few moments, as if in consultation, then suddenly went off at a rapid pace, and disappeared from our sight. Their howling died away in the distance, and then entirely ceased. Our Indians descended from their tree, and called upon us to seize the only possibility of our yet saving ourselves, by instant flight ; for that the tigers had only gone round the height to seek another inlet to the cave, with which they were, no doubt, acquainted. In the greatest haste the stone was pushed aside, and we stepped forth from what we had considered a living grave. We now heard once more the roaring of the tigers, though at a distance ; and, following the example of our guides, we precipitately struck into a side path. From the number of roots and branches of trees, with which the storm had strewed our way, and the slipperiness of the road, our flight was slow and difficult. We had proceeded thus for about a quarter of an hour, when we found that our way led along the edge of a rocky cliff, with innumerable fissures. We had just entered upon it, when suddenly the Indians, who were before us, uttered one of their piercing shrieks, and we immediately became aware that the tigers were in pursuit of us. Urged by despair, we rushed towards one of the breaks, or gulfs, in our way, over which was thrown a bridge of reeds, that sprang up and down at every step, and could be trod with safety by the light foot of the Indians alone. Deep in the 16 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. hollow below, rushed an impetuous stream, and a thou- sand pointed and jagged rocks tlu'eatened destruction on every side, Lincoln, my huntsman, and myself, passed over the chasm in safety ; but Wharton was still in the middle of the waving bridge, and endeavoring to steady himself, when both the tigers were seen to issue from the adjoining forest ; and the moment they descried us, they bounded towards us with dreadful roarings. Meanwhile, Wharton ha^ nearly gained the safe .side of the gulf, and we were all clambering up the rocky cliff except Lincoln, who remain- ed at the reedy bridge to assist his friend to step upon firm ground. Wharton, though the ferocious animals were close upon him, never lost his courage or presence of mind. As. soon as he had gained the edge of the cliff, he knelt down, and with his sword divided the fastenings by which the bridge was attached to the rock. He expected that an effectual barrier would thus be put to the further progress of our pursuers ; but he was mis- taken ; for he had scarcely accomplished his task, when the tigress, without a moment's pause, rushed tov^-ards the chasm, and attempted to bound over it. It was a fearfu sight to see the mighty animal suspended, for a moment, in the air above the abyss ; but the scene passed like a flash of lightning. Her strength was not equal to the dis- tance : she fell into the gulf, and, before she reached the bottom, she was torn into a thousand pieces by the jagged points of the rocks. Her fate did not in the least dismay her companion ; he followed her with an immense spring, and reached the opposite side, but only with his fore claws ; and thus he clung to the edge of the precipice, endeavor ing to gain a footing. The Indians again uttered a wilo shriek, as if all hope had been lost. But Wharton, who was nearest the edge of the rock advanced courageously towards the tiger, and struck his sword into the animal's breast. Enraged beyond all mea- sure, the wild beast collected all his strength, and, with a violent effort, fixing one of his hind legs upon the edge of the cliff, he seized Wharton by the thigh. That heroic man still preserved his fortitude : he grasped the trunk of a tree with his left hand, while, with his right, he wrench- ATTEMPT TO TAKE ARNOLD. 17 ed ana violenlj turned the sword that was still in the breast of the tiger. All this was the work of an instant. The Indians, Frank, and myself, hastened to his assist- ance ; but Lincoln, who was already at his side, had seized Wharton's gun, which lay near upon. the ground, and struck so powerful a blow with the butt end upon the head of the tiger, that the animal, stunned and overpower ed, let go his hold, and fell back into the abyss. ATTEMPT TO TAKE ARNOLD. General Washington having learned whither Arnold had fled, deemed it possible still to take him, .nnd bring him to the just reward of his treachery. To accomplish an object so desirable, and at the same time, in ^o doing to save Andre, Washington devised a plan, which, nlthough it ultimately failed, evinced the greatness of his powers and his unwearied ardor for his country's good. Having matured the plan, Washington sent to M-^joi Lee to repair to head quarters, (at Tappan, on the Bud- son.) " I have sent for you," said General Washington " in the expectation that you have some one in your corps who is willing to undertake a delicate and hazardous pro ject. Whoever comes forward will confer great obliga tions on me personally, and in behalf of the United States I will reward him amply. No time is to be lost ; he mus< proceed, if possible, to-night. I intend to seize Arnold and save Andre." Major Lee named a sergeant-major of his corps, by the name of Chamjye — a native of Vii'ginia, a man full of bone and muscle — with a countenance grave, thoughtful, and taciturn — of tried courage and inflexible perseverance. Champe was sent for by Major Lee, and the plan pro- posed. This was for him to desert — to escape to New York — to appear friendly to the enemy — to watch Arnold, and, upon some fit opportunity, with the assistance of some one whom Champe could trust, to seize him and conduct him to a place on the river, appointed, where boats should s. in readiness to bear him away. 2* 18 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. Champe listened to the plan attentively — ^but with tlie spirit of a man of honor and integrity, replied — " that it vras not danger nor difficulty that deterred him from im mediately accepting the proposal, but the ignominy of ds sertion and the hypocrisy of enlisting ivith the enemy I" To these 'objections I>ee replied, that although he would appear to desert, yet, as he obeyed the call of his com- mander-in-chief, his departure could not be considered as criminal, and that if he suffered in reputation for a time, the matter should one day be explained to his credit. As to the second^bjection, it was urged, that to bring such a man as Arnold to justice — loaded with guilt as he was — and to save Andre, so young, so accomplished, and so beloved — to achieve so much good in the cause of liis country, was more than sufficient to balance a wrong ex- isting only in appearance. , The objections of Champe were at length surmounted, and he accepted the service. It was now eleven o'clock at night. With his instructions in his pocket, the sei'geant returned to camp, and taking his cloak, valise, and orderly book, drew his horse from the picket, and mounted, put- ting himself upon fortune. Scarcely half an hour elapsed, before Captain Canies, the officer of the day, waited upon Lee. who was vainly attempting to rest, and informed him that one of the patrol had fallen in with a dragoon, who, being challenged, put spur to his horse, and had escaped. Lee, hoping to conceal the flight of Champe, or at least to delay pursuit, complained of fatigue and told the cap- tain that the patrol had probably mistaken a countryman for a dragoon. Carnes, however, was not thus to be quieted ; but withdrew to assemble his corps. On examination, it was found that Champe was absent. The captain now returned, and acquainted Lee with the discovery, adding that he had detached a party to pursue the deserter, and begged the major's written orders. After making as much delay as was practicable, without exciting suspicion. Lee delivered his orders — in which he directed the pai'ty to take Champe if possible. " Brmg }nm alive," said he, "that he may suffer in the presence of 'p?-^?^^^^/ , ATTEMPT TO TAKE ARNOLD. 21 the army, but kill him if he resists, or if he escapes after being taken." A shower of rain fell soon after Champe departed, which enabled the pursuing dragoons to take the trail of his horse, his shoes, in common with those of the horses of the army, being made in a peculiar form, and each having a private mark, which was to be seen in the path. Middle ton, the leader of the pursuing party, left the camp a few minutes past twelve, so that Champe had the start of but little more than an hour — a period by fai shorter than had been contemplated. During the night, the dragoons were often delayed m the necessary halts to examine the road ; but on the coming of morning, the impression of the horse's shoes was so apparent, that they pressed on with rapidity. Some miles above Bergen, (a village three miles north of New York, on the opposite side of the Hudson,) on as- cending a hill, Champe was descried, not more than half a mile distant. Fortunately, Champe descried his pur- suers at the same moment, and conjecturing their object, put spur to his horse, with tiie hope of escape. By taking a different road, Champe v/as for a time lost sight of — but on approaching the river he was again de- scried. Aware of his dange]% he now lashed his valise, containing his clothes and orderly book, to his shoulders, and prepared himself to plunge into the river, if necessary. Swift was his flight, and swift was the pursuit. Middle ton and his party were within a few hundred yards, when Champe threw himself from his horse, and plunged into the river, calling aloud upon some British galleys, at no great distance, for help. A boat was instantly despatched to the sergeant's assist- ance, and a fire commenced upon the pursuers. Champe was taken on board, and soon after carried to New York with a letter from the captain of the galley, stating the past scene, all of which he had witnessed. Adjoining the house in which Arnold resided, and at which it was designed to seize and gag him, Champe had taken off several of the palings, and replaced them so that,- with ease and without noise, he could readily open his way to the adjoining alley» Into this alley he intended 22 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. to convoy;.his prisoner, aided by his companion one or two associates, who had been introduced by the friend to whom Champe had been originally made known by letter from the commander-in-chief, and with whose aid and counsel he had so far conducted the enterprise. His other associate was, with the boat, prepared at one of the whanes on the Hudson river, to receive the party. Champe and his friend intended to have placed them- selves each under Arnold's shoulder, and to have thus borne him through the most unfrequented alleys and streets to the boat, representing Arnold, in case of being questioned, as a drunken soldier, whom they were con- veying to the guard-house. When arrived at the boat, the difficulties would be all surmounted, there being no danger nor obstacle in passing to the Jersey shore. These particulars, as soon as made known to Lee, were communicated to the comm.ander-in- chief, who was highly gratified with the much desired in- telligence. He desired Major Lee to meet Champe, and to take care that Arnold should not be hurt. The day arrived, and Lee, wdth a party of accoutred horses, one for Arnold, one for the sergeant, and the third for his associate, who was to assist in securing Arnold, left the camp, never doubting the success of the enterprise, from the tenor of the last received communication. The party reached Hoboken about midnight, where they were concealed in the adjoining wood — Lee, with three dra- goons, stationing himself near the shore of the river. Hour after hour passed, but no boat approached. At length the day broke, and the major retired to his party, and with his led horses returned to the camp, where he proceeded to head quarters to inform the general of the much lamented disappointment, as mortifying as inex- plicable. Washington having perused Champe's plan and communication, had indulged the presumption, that at length the object of his keen and constant pursuit, was sure of execution, and did not dissemble the joy such a con- viction produced. He was chagrined at the issue, and apprehended that his faithful sergeant must have been detected in the last scene of his tedious and difficult en- terprise. ATTEMPT TO TAKE ARNOLD. 23 In a few days Lee received an anonymous letter from Champe's patron and friend, informing him that on the day preceding the night for the execution of the plot, Arnold had removed his quarters to another part of the tow^n, to superintend the embarkation of troops, preparing, as was rumored, for an expedition to be directed by himself ; and that the American legion, consisting chiefly of American deserters, had been transferred from their barracks to one of the transports, it being apprehended that if left on shore until the expedition was ready, many of them might desert. Thus it happened, that John Champa, instead of cross- ing the Hudson that night, was safely deposited on board one of the fleet of transports, from whence he never de- parted, until the troops under Arnold landed in Virginia Nor was he able to escape from the British army until after the junction of Cornwallis at Petersburgh, when he deserted ; and proceeding high up into Virginia, he passed into North Carolina, near the Saury towns, and keeping in the friendly districts of that state, safely joined the army soon after it had passed the Congaree, in pursuit of Lord Rawdon. His appearance excited supreme surprise among his former comrades, which was not a httle increased, when they saw the cordial reception he met with from the late major, now lieutenant colonel, Lee. His whole story was soon known to the corps, which reproduced the love and respect of officer and soldier, (heretofore invariably enter- tained for the sergeant,) heightened by universal admira- tion of his late daring and arduous attempt. Champe was introduced to General Green, who very cheerfully complied with the promise made by the com- mander-in-chief, so far as in his power ; and having pro- vided the sergeant with a good horse and money for his journey, sent him to General Washington, who munifi- cently anticipated every desire of the sergeant, and pre- sented him with a discharge from furtner service, lest he might, in the vicissitudes of war, fall into the hands of the enemy, when, if recognised, he was sure to die on the gibbet. We shall only add respectmg the after life of this in teresting adventurer, that when General Washington was 24 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. called by President Adams, in 1798, to the command of the army, prepared to defend the country against French hostility, he sent to Lieutenant Colonel Lee, to inquire for Chamjie ; being determined to bring him into the field at the head of a company of infantry. Lee sent to Loudon county, Virginia, where Champe settled after his dis- charge from the army ; when he learned that the gallant soldier had removed to Kentucky, where he soon aftei died. THE WILD TURKEY. Fifty years ago, a stockade fort, enclosing a few has- tily constructed cabins, occupied part of the ground on which is now built the bustling and flourishing city of Wheeling. The immortal demi-Indian chieftain, Simon Girty, a warrior acting under the immediate auspices of his excellency Governor Hamilton, of Detroit, several times besieged this fort with a legion of blood-thirsty sav- ages, and was often repulsed, without the acquisition of any invincible quantity of laurels. Many other attempts were made by the Indians to possess these works, all of which proving abortive, they magnanimously resorted to the extremity of lying in ambush in places contiguous to the fort, by which means several of the settlers were de- coyed and killed. The lapse of a few years, however brought with it many changes in the features of the west many expeditions were sent out against the Indians, and these "lords of the soil," at the time of our story, were supposed to have been extirpated from the settlement of Wheeling. Perfectly confident of security, the hunters once more resumed their manly and soul-stirring vocation, and the young and timid fearlessly ventured far from their houses, without the least apprehension of danger. The hunters usually went out singlj^ for the purpose of avoiding noise and bustle as much as possible. One day a hunter heard the cries of a wild turkey, while hunting on the banks of the creek, in the vicinity of the fort, and while he was THE WILD TURKEY, 25 endeavoring to ascertain its location, he was fired upon and wounded by an unseen hand. Several others were deluded and decoyed by the same agent, and tradition saith, that the rifle of \\\q mysterious turkey has sent its leaden ball into more than one of its sturdy pioneers. The suspicion that an Indian, or a renegado, lurked in the neighborhood, soon insinuated itself into the acute com- prehension of the settlers, who, in a twinkling, determined to despatch him, and in about the same length of time abandoned their resolution. Under the concomitant ap- prehension of danger from the much dreaded turkey, the range of the hunters was materially abridged ; so much so, that the unusual scarcity of accustomed provisions be- gan to be severely felt ; for be it known, that, in those days, the backwoodsman depended almost entirely upon his success in the chase for aliment, both for the mind and body. About this time there dwelt, wherever there was a pros- pect of danger, a hardy veteran of the old school, yclept Lewis Wetzel, a hunter and warrior, whose deeds have been recorded in the chronicles of the West, as being of a nature and character which will for ever entitle him to the gratitude of the millions who live on the ground which he defended. When rumors and surmises about the mys- terious turkey were the constant theme of colloquy and gossiping among the good dames and the sprightly maidens, and the unvarying object of threats and dread with the hunters, Lewis Wetzel made his appearance at Wheeling. " It's nothing but a lazy, skulking Indian," our veteran re- pjied, after listening patiently to his informants. " I know something about that hole myself," (Lewis Wetzel had finished many a red skin in his day,) " and really I feel obliged to ye for letting me have the name of hooking this feller. Boys, if ye'd a Hved as much in the woods as I nave, and camped out as often, with no other kivering than these here old blankets, I rather suppose you'd know a little more about these red skins than you do. But never fear , if there's any faith in my old rifle here, boys, that red skin never sees the sun rise again !" Although the words grated awfully in the ears of the young and tender-hearted dam- sels, vet all felt a pleasing sensation m contemplating the 3 26 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. benefits that would arise from the exit of the mt/stenous turkey. " I know something about that hole," was alto- gether unintelligible to the hunters, and as they could make nothing out of it, philosopher like, they permitted the mat- ter to rest there without further inquiry. On the following morning, shortly after the Wheeling folks had vacated their snug and comfoi'table beds, which might have been in the neighborhood of day-light, the first unusual sound which saluted their ears, was the report of a rifle. This, however, was nothing extraordinary in the backwoods. Not long after, Lewis Wetzel entered the fort, and with perfect indifference walked up to a cabin, and resting his rifle against a door, leisurely began to wind a piece of tow round the ramrod, for the purpose of clean- ing his gun. Some one inquired, " Wetzel, was that you who fired?" " Fe^r." " What did you kill?" ''An Indian P' " An Indian ! what, the turkey ?" " / reckon so." " Huzza ! huzza, boys, the turkey''s dead /" shouted one and all, with such a tremendous din, that all the salted venison of the good housewives turned black ! After Lewis had taken much pains, and consumed a great deal of time in getting his rifle " in order," he yielded to the importunities of the bystanders, and conducted them to the death-bed of the mysterious turkey. A rapid walk of a few moments brought the party to the bank of the creek. A gigantic elm, torn from its roots by the rage of the tempest, had fallen into the stream. " Now," said Lewis Wetzel, " you see I come here last night and scrouged myself up in the bush of that there tree in the creek, with my rifle ready cocked. When day broke, the first thing I see'd was a rifle glistening in that there^olS over the creek, in that rock. Right behind it was an old red skin fast and snug asleep, with his black head dowsing upon his shoulders ; so I took a dead aim and banged away, and if any of you will wadg over and chmb up to the hole, vou'll find him in his last sleep." Accordingly, the " hole" was quickly entered, and the mysterious turkey was found to be a lifeless corpse, sur- rounded by various trophies of his victories and murders. The cavity can be seen to this day, in nearly its original state. It IS a ledge of rocks, probably about twenty-five THE FIRE i^HIP. 29 or thirty feet from the base. Part of the aperture has de- cayed and mouldered away, but sufficient yet remains to assure the visitant that the "hole" (now appellated the " Indian Rock") was a conafortable and secluded reUbject, therefore, was to obtain from the housekeeper (the mly person except the prisoner who could give any clue M this) such information as he could get, without alarmmg ler by any direct inquiry on the subject, which, as she could not help seeing its importance, would have led hei at once to a positive denial. He knew, moreover, that as she had not been in court, she could not know how much or how little the inquiry had already brought to light ; and by himself treating the matter as immaterial, he might lead her to consider it so also, and by that means draw forth all that she knew. After some unimportant questions, he asked her, in a tone and manner calculated rather to awa ken coafidence than to excite distrust — During the time you were in Mr. Smith's room, you stated that the candle stood on the table, in the centre oi the room ? — Yes. Was the closet, or cupboard, or whatever you call it opened once or twice, while it stood there ? — A pause ; no answer. I will call it to your recollection ; after Mr. Smith had laken the medicine out of the closet, did he shut the door or did it remain open ? — He shut it. Then it was open again for the purpose of replacing the bottle, was it 1 — It was. Do you recollect how long it was open the last time 1— Not above a minute. The door, when open, would be exactly between the dglit and the window, would it not ? — Tt would. 44 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. I forget whether you said the closet was on the right w left hand side of the window. — The left. Would the door of the closet make any noise in open- ing ? — None. Could you speak positively to that fact 1 have you evci opened it yourself, or only seen Mr. Smith open it ? — ] no\ (3r opened it myself. Did you never keep the key? — Never. Who did?— Mr. Smith, always. At this moment the witness chanced to turn her eyet towards the spot where the prisoner stood, and the effec\ was almost electrical ; cold, damp sweat sat upon his brow, -and his face had lost all its color ; he appeared a living image of death. She no sooner saw him than she shriek- ed and fainted. The consequences of her answers flashea across her mind. She had been so thoroughly deceived by the manner of the advocate, and by the little import ance he had seemed to attach to her statements, that she had been led on by one question to another, till she had told him all that he wanted to know. A medical man was immediately directed to attend her ; and during the inter- val occasioiied by this interruption to the proceedings, the solicitor for the prosecution left the court. In a short time the gentleman who attended the witness retun^ed into couit, and stated that it was impossible that she could at present resume her place in the box ; and suggested tha/ it W3uld be much better to allow her to v/ait for an houj or two. It was now about twelve in the day, and Lore Mmsfiekl having directed that the jury should be accom modated with a room where they could be kept by them- selves, adjourned the court for two liours. The prisoner was taken back to jail, and the witness to an apartment in the jailei''s house ; and strict orders were given that she should be allowed to communicate with no one, except in the presence and hearing of the physician. It was between four and five o'clock when the judge resumed his seat upon the bench, the prisoner his station at the bar, and the house- keej)er her's at the witness box ; the court in the interval had remained crowded with the spectators, scarce one of whom had left his place, lest during his absence it should be seized by some one else. TRIAL FOR MURDER. 45 The cross-examining counsel then addressed the wit- n ss — I have a very few more questions to ask of you , bu*^ beware that you ansv^^er them truly, for your own life hangs i^pon a thread. Do you know this stopper? — I do. To wnom does it belong? — To Mr. Smith. When did you see it last? — On the night of Mr. Thom son's death. At this moment the solicitor for the prosecution entered the court, bringing with him, upon a tray, a watch, two money bags, a jewel-case, a pocket-book, and a bottle ot the same manufacture as the stopper, and having a cork in it ; some other articles there were on it, not materia! to my story. The tray was placed orkthe table in sight of the prisoner and the witness ; and from that moment not a doubt remained in the mind of any man of the guilt of the prisoner. A few words will bi'ing my tale to its close. The house where the murder had been committed wa? between nine and ten miles distant. The solicitor, as soon as the cross-examination of the house-keeper had discover- ed the existence of the closet, and its situation, had set off on horseback witli two sheriff's officers, and, after pulling down a part of the wall of the house, had detected this important place of concealment. Their search was well rewarded ; the whole of the property belonging to Mr. Thomson was found there, amounting, in value, to some thousand pounds ; and to leave no room for doubt, a bottle was discovered, which the medical men instantly pronoun- ced to contain the very identical poison which had caused the death of the unfortunate Thomson. The result was too obvious to need explanation. The case presents the, perhaps, unparalleled instance of a man accused of murder, the evidence against whom was so slight as to induce the judge and jury to concur in a verdict of acquittal ; but who, persisting in calling a witness to prove his innocence, was, upon the testimony of that very witness, CONVICTED and EXECUTED. fcJkPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. INCviiENTS IN TPIE BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE. i3cRiNG the severely contested battle on LsJce Eric. wAich reflected so much honor on our brave ana intrepid «eamen, it was repeatedly the lot of Commodore Perry to see men swept from his side ; some, even, while convers- mg with him. One of these incidents displays the coolness and presence of mind that prevailed among the officers, and indeed, throughout the ship, enabling them to jest with present dangers. The second lieutenant of the Lawrence, while standing beside Commodore Perry, was struck in the breast by a chain-shot. The shot having passed through the bulwark, had no ether effect than to knock him down, ?ind lodged in the bosom of his waistcoat. He fell with an -exclamation, and remained for a moment stunned by the fiolence of the blow. Perry raised him up, and seeing no aiarks of a wound, gave him some cheering words, and iold him he could not be hurt. The lieutenant coming to aimself, put his hand into his bosom, pulled out the chain- shot, and exclaiming, " No, sir, but this is my shot," thrusi it with great sang froid into his pocket. In the course of the action. Perry noticed a prime and favorite sailor, who was captain of one of the guns, very much embarrassed with his. piece, which, in consequence of the forelock being broken, was rather unmanageable and rebounded. Perry approached him, and in his usual en- couraging manner, asked him what was the matter. The honest tar, who had been showing signs of infinite vexa tion, turned round, and, as if speaking of a favorite, ex claimed, reproachfully, " Sir, my gun behaves shamefully^ shamefully !" He then levelled it, and having taken aim, .'aised up and squared himself in a fine martial stj'le, when suddenly a cannon ball struck him in the breast, passed through him, and he fell dead, without a groan. Lieutenant Yarnell, of the Lawrence, behaved through- out with great brav^rv and coolness. He was dressed as a common seaman ; a red bandanna handkerchief was tied round his neck, and another around his head, to stanch two wounds he had received. From these, the blood trickled down his face, and a splinter having passed through INCIDENTS IN THE BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 47 fiis nose, it had swelled to a hideous magnitude. In this fnjllurul plight, looking like the very genius of carnage and ill iuck, he came up to Perry, in the hottest and" blood- iest of the fight, and announced to him that all the officers of his division were killed. Perry ordered others in their place. Shortly after, Yarnell returned with a repetition of the dismal tidings, that all the officers were shot down: * Tiien, sir," said Perry, "you must endeavor to make out by yourself. I have no more to furnish you !" One circumstance which Perry relates deserves parti- ;ular inention. It has in it something of sentiment that 'S above common life, and absolutely belongs to poetry. When, in the sweeping havoc that was sometimes made, a numLfcr of men were shot away fi*om around a gun, the survivors looked silently around to Perry — and then step- ped ihto their places. Whenever he looked at the poor fellowb- that lay w^ounded and weltering on the deck, he always found their faces turned towards him, and their eyes fixed on his countenance. It is impossible for words lo heighten the simple and afifecting eloquence of this anec- dote. It speaks volumes in praise of the heroism of the commander, and the loyal aflfection of his followers. When Perry went off from the Lawrence to shift his flag to the Niagara, he stood up in the boat gallantly wav- ing his sword, and was heard cheeringly to exclaim, " Pull away, my brave boys !" so earnest was he, that though the balls whistled around him, he could scarcely be made to lake a seat, and an old sailor, who had been in both bat- tles of the Constitution, absolutely held him down. Just after he had got on board the Niagara, and was on the quarter-deck, a sailor who commanded one of the guns, seeing all his men shot iown, turned with eagerness to Perry, and, laying both hands upon his shoulders, ex- claimed, " For God's sake, sir, give me some more men I" Such was the vivid animation that prevailed among all ranks, that they had lost all sense of danger, and thought of nothing but victory. When the Niagara dashed through the enemy's line, as she passed the Lady Provost, Lieutenant Buchan, the com- mander of that vessel, was shot through the face by a musket ball. The vessels were then within half pistol sho^ 48 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. SO that every thing could be seen distinctly from one to the other. The crew of the Lady Provost, unable, m their crippled state, to stand the fire of the Niagara, ran below , but their unfortunate commander remained on deck, and Perry saw him leaning on the companion-way, with his face on his hand, looking with fixed stare at his enemies. Perry immediately silenced the marines on the quarter- deck, and running forward, ordered the men to cease fu'ino;. He afterwards learned that the strange conduct of Lieutenant Buchan, was owuig to sudden derangement caused by^ his wound. He was a brave officer, and had distinguished himself in the battle of the Nile. While Perry was engaged at close quarters in the Niag- ara, Lieutenant Turnei-, a fine, bold young sailor, who cojnmanded the brig Caledonia, of three guns, spreading every sail, endeavored to get into the action. His foi-esail interfered between him and the enemy, but, rather than lake in an inch of canvass, he ordered his men to fire through it. Seeing the commodore engaged in the thickest of the fight, he proposed to the commaader of another small vessel, to board the Detroit ; the other, however, prudently declined the rash but gallant proposal. It has been mentioned tliat two Indians were on board the Detroit, stationed in the tops, to pick off our officers with their rifies. No sooner did the ships come into close action than they were dismayed by this new and tremen- dous species of battle, and slunk into the hold. When the ship was taken, they anticipated cruel treatment if their nation was discovered, and borrowed sailor's clothes that they might pass for Englishmen. Thus disguised, they lay in close concealment for two days, when word was brought (i) Perry, that two Indians were concealed below, who Iiad not tasted food for eight and forty hours. He had them brought upon deck, whe"e they made a most uncouth and ludicrous appearance, with their borrowed garments bagging about them. They expected nothing less than to be butchered and scalped, but, notwithstanding, preserved the most taciturn inflexibility of muscle. Perry, however, after jnitVmg a few good humored questions to them, or- dered them to be taken away and fed ; a degree of lenitv INCIDENTS IN THE BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE. 49 wnich seemed to strike them with more surprise than their stoic natures are apt to evince. The only time that the coohiess and self-command of Perry experienced any thing hke a shock, was on seeing his young brother, a midshipman, knocked down by a ham- mock, which had been driven in by a ball. In the momen- tary agony of mind, he gave him up as slain, but had the deiight to see him rise up perfectly unhurt. , Periy speaks highly of the bravery and good conduct of the negroes, who formed a considerable part of his crew. They seemed to be absolutely insensible to dan ger. When Captain Barclay came on board the Niagara, and beheld the sickly and party-colored beings around him, an expression of chagrin escaped him, at having been con- quered by such men. The fresh water service had very much impaired the health of the sailors, and crowded the sick list with patients. We shall close these few particulars of this gallant and romantic afi^aii', with the affecting fate of Lieut. Brooks, of the marines. It presents an awful picture of the scene? which the warrior witnesses in battle — his favorite com panions suddenly cut down before his eyes^ — those dread ful transitions from the flush of health and the vivacity o' youth, to the ghastliness of agonized death — from the cheer ing and the smile, to the skriek and the convulsion. Brooks was a gay, animated young officer, remarkabV for his personal beauty. In the midst of the engagement he accosted Perry in a spirited tone, with a smile on h)^ countenance, and was making some observations about the enemy, when a cannon ball struck him on the thigh, ans< dashed him to the opposite side of the deck. The blow shattered him dreadfully, and the sudden anguish forced from him the most thrilling exclamations. He implored Perry to shoot him and put an end to his torture : the lat ter directed some of the marines to carry him below and cons!o;n him to the surgeon. The scene was rendered more affecting, by the conduct of a little mulatto boy ol twelve years of age, a favorite of Brooks. He was carry- ing cartridges to one of the guns, but on seeing his master fall, he threw himself on the deck, with the most frantic gesticulations and piercing cries, exclaiming that his mas- 60 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. ter was killed ; nor could he be appeased until orders were piven to take him below, when he immediately re- tuinecl to carrying cartridges. Mr. Hamilton, the purser, who had worked at a gun like a common sailor, being wounded, was carried below and laid on the same mattress with Brooks. The wound of the. latter was stanched, and he lay composed, calmly awaiting his .approaching death. Hamilton observes, that (le never looked so perfectly beautiful as at this moment w len the anguish of his wound had imparted a fever- ish flush and lustre to his usually blooming countenance. He asked with great solicitude after Perry, and how the battle went. He gave a few directions about his own af- fairs, and, while his voice was growing weaker and weak- er, recommended his little mulatto to kindness and protec- tion, directing in whose hands he should be placed. While ae was yet talking, Hamilton's attention was attracted oy some circumstance which occasioned him to look an- other way for a moment^ — the voice of his companion died away upon his ear, and when he turned his face again, poor Brooks had expired. THE BLACK ASSASSIN. There are many situations of life that man is placed m, which will bring forth talent, strength, courage, and in- genuity, which himself and others deemed totally at vari- ance with his nature. I am one whose life has been an undisturbed scene of quietness. No quarrel or dispute ever rendeied it necessary for me to call forth iny moral ^T ])hysical strength, both of which I am now inclined to ^hink I possess ; at least, the reader will bear me out ♦vhen I have related the following adventure : I was on a journey in the fall of 1818 — it was towards ihe co(d evenings in the first fall month — when my horse itopped suddenly before a respectable house in New Hairvshire. 'I'here was something strange and remark- able in this action of my horse ; nor v^^ould he move a Ai^ n sjLi'.e of all i/iy exertions to urge him on. I deter THE BLACK ASSASSIN. 51 mined to gratify his whim ; and, at the same time, a strange presentiment which came over me, a kind of supernatural feeling, indescribable, seemed to urge me to enter Having knocked and requested to be conducted to the lady of the house, I was ushered into a neat sitting-room, where sat a beautiful girl of about twenty years of age. She rose a1 my entrance, and seemed a little surprised at the appear- ance of a perfect stranger. In a few words I related the strange conduct of my horse, and his stubborn opposition to my mind. " I am not," I observed, " superstitious, noi inclined on the side of the metaphysical doctrines of those. who support them ; but the strange, unaccountable feeling? that crept over me in attempting to pass your house, in duced me to solicit lodging for the night." " We are not," she replied, " well guarded, it is true but in this part of the country we have little to fear fron* robbers, for we have never heard of any being near us we are surrounded by good neighbors, and I flatter myself we are at peace with them all. But this evening, in conse- quence of my father's absence, I feel unusually lonesome, and if it were not bordering on the superstitious, I might reason as you have, and say I consent to your staying, foi similar feelings have been mine ere you arrived ; from what cause I cannot tell." The evening passed delightfully away ; my young host ess was intelligent and lovely ; the hours fled so quick, that on looking at my watch, I was surprised to find i( was eleven o'clock. This was a signal for retiring ; and by twelve, every inmate of the house was probably asleep, save myself. I could not sleep — strange visions floated across my brain, and I lay twisting and turning on the bed, in all the agony of sleepless suspense. The clock struck one ; its last yibrating sound had scarcely died away, when the opening of a shutter and the raising of a sash in one of the lower apai'tments, convinced me some one was entering the house. A noise followed as of a person jumping from the window sill to the floor, and then followed the light and almost noiseless step of one ascend- ing the stairway. I slept in the room adjoining the one occupied by the lady ; mine was next to the staircase ; thfc sliep came along the gal'ery, slow and cautious. 1 had 52 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. seized my pisfo], and slipped on pari of my clothes, deter- mined to watch or listen to the movements, seemingly mysterious or suspicious ; the sound of" the step stopped at my door — then followed one as if applying the ear to the keyhole, and a low breathing convinced me the villain was listening. I stood motionless — the pistol firmly grasped. JNot a musole moved, nor a nerve was slackened, for I felt as if heaven had selected me out as the instrument to effect its purpose. The person now slowly passed on, and I as cautiously approached the door of my bed-chamber. I now went by instinct, or rather by conveyance of sound ; for as soon as I heard his hand grasp the latch of one door, mine seized the other. A deep silence followed this movement ; it seemed g.s if he had heard the sound and awaited the re- petition ; it came not — ail was still ; he might have consi- dered it the echo of his own noise. I heard the door open softly — J also opened mine, and jhe very momeai 1 step- ped into the entry, 1 caught the glimpse of a tall man en- tering the lighted chamber of the young lady. I softly stepped along the entry, and approached the chamber; through the half opened door I glanced my eyes into the room. No object was visible save the curtained bed, within whose sheets lay the intended victim to a midnight assassin, and he, gracious heaven ! a negro I For at that moment a tali, fierce looking black approached the bed , and never were Othello and Desdemona more naturally represented by the bard's conception. I was now all sus- pense ; n)y heart sw^eiled in my throat almost to siiffoca- tion, my eyes to cracking, as 1 made a bound into the room. The black villain had ruthlessly dragged part < f the covering off the bed, Vv'hen the sound of my foot caused iiim to turn. He started, and thus confronted we stood gazing on each other a few seconds ; his eyes shot fire — fury was depicted in his countenance. He made a spring towards, me, and the next moment lay a corpse on the floor. The noise of the pistol aroused the fair sleeper ; she started in the bed, and seemed an angel in white clouds emerging forth from hei ^owny bed to soar up to tlie skies. ADVENTURE OF A KENTUCKY SETTLER. 55 The first thing that presented itself to her view was myself standing near her, with a pistol in my hand. " Oh, do not murder me ! take all : you cannot, will not murder me, sir." The servants now rushed in ; all was explained. The wretch turned out to be a vagabond, supposed to be a run away slave. I had the providential opportunity of rescu ing one from the worst of fates, who, in after years, called me husband, and related to our children the miraculous «Gcape from the bold attack of a midnight assassin. ADVENTURE OF A KENTUCKY SETTLEH. The late John Haggin, Esq., of Mercer county, came to Kentucky at an early period. On his arrival the few mhabitants resided principally at Harrodsburgh and Boons- borough. Lexington had not then been settled. Mr. Hag- gin, desirous of commencing the cultivation of the fertile land in this region of country, made some entries, that is, purchased several tracts from government ; among the rest, one at a place near where Harrison, Bourbon, and Fayette counties unite. He commenced the improvement of the place, removed some of the trees, erected a small log- house, and brought to his new residence some furniture ; an^ong other things a few iron kettles, to be used in making sugar from the sugar-trees, which were then, and are now abundant in that country. Owing to the want of roads and means of transportation, heavy iron utensils were of great value, and but few persons had or could procure them. Shortly after Mr. Haggin commenced working on his new place, the hostility of the savages became so alarming, that he was constrained to abandon his cabin and seek security in the fort at Harrodsburgh. Previously, however, to his depai'ture, he used the precaution of bury- ing his kettles. He was accompanied to Harrodsburgh by his v.'iie and one child, a daughter, who is now residing in Woodford county, united in marriage to a gentleman of respectabihty. Mr. Haggin spent the winter with his family in the fort, where they were somewhat incommo- 56 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. ded by the crowd of persons within so small a place. In the spring, perceiving no indications of the savages ii the vicinity, and desirous of getting out of the fort, he erected a cabin in the valley near the stream leading from the Big Spring towards the fort, on the side next to where the town of Harrodsburgh now is situated, less than a quarter of a mile distant from the fort, (the fort being on an emi- nence,) but directly in view. Mr. Haggin and his family spent the summer at their little tenement, engaged in do- mestic concerns, and cultivating a small portion of land ; released, to be sure, from the confinement of the fort, but under continual apprehension of a visit from the Indians. Each morning, before the door was unbarred, they peeped out of the cabin, " illuminated by many a Craimy,'' to spy out the insidious enemy, who, it was feared, mtght be lurk- ing about behind logs and trees, ready to rush m and mur- der the family; They remained, however, in a great mea- sure, uninterrupted until fall, when Mr. Haggin determined to re^visit his place on this side of the river, for the purpose of i-emoving some of his kettles to Harrodsburgh, prepara- tory to making sugar in winter. He set out in company with an active woodsman that he had hired to assist him. On the second day, they came in sight of Mr. Haggin's place, in the edge of what is now Harrison county ; they were riding slowly and cautiously along, watching for ene- mies, when, looking forward to the place where the cabin had stood, they perceived that it had just been burned down, and saw three or four Indians sitting near the ruins Haggm proposed to his companion that they should fal) back and prepare themselves, and then return and give the Indians battle. They retreated a few hundred yards, dismounted, took off their exterior clothing, retaining only their shirts, leggins, and moccasins, tied their other cloth- ing on their horses, and turned them loose, intending, m case of a retreat, to regain their horses ; but if they could not succee^d in that, they deemed it prudent to be lightly clothed, that they might lly with more celerity. Having examined their rifles, and seen that every thing was in order, they set out to attack the enemy. It was arranged that Haggin should proceed on foremost, fire his gun at the savages, and retreat to a tree ; that his companion ADVENTURE OF A KENTUCKY SETTLER. 59 should reserve his shot until the enemy approached, and then fire and retreat ; thus they v^^ould fire and load alter- nately. But this v^ell arranged plan, like many others ecjually sagacious, proved abortive. Whilst Haggin and nis companion were engaged in a council of war, ^ did not occur to them that the savages had seen them lud , wei'e concerting plans also. Mr. Haggin, agreeably to the mode of attack agreed on, advanced slowly, his body bent down, casting his eyes forward, intently watching for a sight of an Indian, to get shot at. He he&rd a low voice behind him ; he listened > his companion cried out in a quicker under tone, " Haggin, don't you see we are about to be surrounded ? kit us re treat." Haggin cast his eyes around and saw two hun dred Indians rise up from among the cane, having nearly surrounded him. He immediately fled ; they pursued, but did not then fire, lest in shooting across, they ^ould kill each other. The two flanks of the ambuscade began rapidly to close upon Haggin. He directed bis steps to- wards his horse, which was quietly feeding on the cane. Haggin was a very active man and a fleet runner ; but some of the savages appeared to equal him. He reichea his horse, and sprung from the ground, intending t'O leap into the saddle from behind. As he placed his hands on the horse's rump, an Indian ran the muzzle of his gun against Haggin's side, and fired. That moment Haggin leaped ; at the same instant the horse, being alarmed, sprang also ; Haggin fell, and thought he was mortally wounded ; but feeling no pain, rebounded to his feet and fled, exerting his whole strength. The savages perceiving that he had escaped and was ahead of them, commenced firing on him, and perhaps one hundred bullets were com- missioned to kill, but none took effect. The chase was Kept up for some hours, when the Indians, finding it fruit- less, ceased the pursuit. Haggin being very hot and much fatigued, went into a creek to cool his limbs. After he came out he sat down at the root of a tree and fell asleep ; when he waked, he discovered that it was snowing, and the air had become cold, and he was much chilled. Having lime now to think, the horrors of his situation arose to his view ; he had lost his horse, gun, and clothes, he was foriy 60 EXPLOITS AND iiDVENTURES. miles from Harrodsburgh, and twenty-five miles from the nearest other station, which was Boonsborough, without food or the means of getting any, night coming on, snow falling, no blanket to keep him warm, nor means of striking fire ; he might, perhaps, freeze to death. He determined to steer for Boonsborough. After indescribable difficulty m making his way through the cane, loaded with snow, and suffering from cold, loss of sleep, and fatigue, he reached Boonsborough the next morning. Havifig eaten something, he laid down and slept from that time uniil the following morning. In the mean time, the man who accompanied Mr. Haggin, had got to Harrodsburgh, and reported that he was killed, overwhelming his wife with the distressing mtelligence. Haggin, on the day of his arrival, set out for Boons borough, accompanied by a Mr. Pendergrast, for Har- rodsburgh. The wife of Mr; Pendergrast had been stay- ing for some time with Mrs. Haggin, in a little tenement near the fort at Harrodsburgh. Haggin had supplied himself with clothing and a gun before he left Boons- borough. The two friends journeyed on without inter- ruption, until they arrived at a little eminence near Mr. Haggin's residence. On casting their eyes to the spot where they expected to find what was most dear to thena on earth, their wives and children, what must have been their astonishment and horror, when they beheld the cabin a smoky ruin, and one or two hundred savages around the place. Haggin's feelings were now wrought up to despe- ration; he called on Pendergrast to follow, saying he no longer valued life, now his wife and children were mur- dered ; that he would die, but sell his life dear to the enemy. Pendergrast accompanied him ; they rushed di- rectly up to where the Indians were standing. The reck' less manner in which they approached, excited the sur- prise of the savages ; they stood inactive, not making any attempt to injure the two desperate men. At this moment one or both of them cast a look towards \he fort, and saWj or thought they saw, their wives on the wall of the fort, waving their handkerchiefs to them. The desire of living immediately returned to their hearts. They changed their MUTINY AT SEA. 61 course and sprang towards the fort. The Indians raisea the veil, darted after them, and many guns were fired. Both of the white men fell, in full view of the fort ; the wives screamed, believing their husbands were slain. In a moment Haggin was on his feet again ; he rushed for- ward, the savages in close pursuit ; one struck him on the back with his tomahawk, it proved harmless ; the gate flew open, and he was received with a shout of joy in the arms ( f his wife, having escaped entirely unhurt ; his fall had I (;en accidental. But poor Pendergrast fell to rise no more. His friends, from the fort, saw the savages take ihe scalp from his heeid. MUTINY AT SEA. A MUTINY of a most serious character broke out in the month of November, 1834, on board the barque Manly, Captain Davies, master, while at sea ; and which was put down in a most extraordinary manner. The vessel sailed from London on a whaling expedition to the South Seas, Ml August, with a crew of twenty-five men ; but in conse- quence of the mutiny was obliged to put into Buenos Ayres, from whence she arrived in the St. Katharine's Jock. The following particulars have been gleaned from ihe journals of the ship, and from copies of the depositions laken before the British consul at Buenos Ayres. It ap- pears thai some dissatisfaction evinced itself among the crew in the beginning of November, when preparations lA^ere about to be made for killing whales. On the nicrjit Df the 19th, some of the hands came aft and demanded a larger allowance of grog. The captain gave them an extra glass, as the night was stormy. The next day he informed them that he could not give a regular double al- lowance of spirits until they commenced taking seals, but they should have an extra glass on stormy nights, when reefing topsails. The men appeared satisfied ; but the next day they refused to have the allowance of spirits "which was served out. The steward informed the captain 6 62 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. of this, and intimated that a design existed on the part of the officers and men to take the command of the ship an^ tnrow him overboard. Some hours afterwards, White the chief officer, came into the c!;\bin, and said the dissatis- faction among the men was increasing, and he did nol know what to do with them. Thomas Goodfellcw, the carpenter, however, informed the '.aptain that Whjte Wfv the chief cause of the excitement. At ten o'clock, P. M on the 21st, the steward informed ;he captain thai somt thing was wrong forward, and the crew were on( y wait ing the first favorable opportunity io seize the shi}». Od the 22d the spirits were again refused by the cre"^v. Cap tain Davies then prepared for the worst, and secreiV i'"*' moved six barrels of gunpowder, each weighing 100 pound*- and 1,500 rounds of cartridges, into his state room. Kr then loaded two pistols. At 8, P. M., Wh-te, who it appear*- had been in consultation with the crew, '^.jitered the cabin The steward having heard words to the effi?!ct, " ;:hat the* would make a fine ship of the Manly," had befon.^ report ed these words to the captain, who, on White's appear ing, told him to look at his pistols, and pointing, to the gun powder, told him if any attempt was made ^o take tht ship, he would blot^ up every soul on board, W hite ad vised him not to be rash, and said he would stand by him. On Sunday, the 23d, White told the crew that the captain would blow up the ship next day if he did not find lapd^ and they had better secure him at once. At mia light, WiUiam Burwood came on deck, and was heard to sc»y that they had better seize the captain when he canr e ot deck at eight o'clock. At four, A. M., Burwood appeared^ with a drawn dirk in his hand, and told the man at the helm he meant to run the captain through if he made any resistance. It was then resolved that White should g(? below and seize the captain, and that on a given signa) the second and third mates should proceed to his assist- ance, secure the captain's hands and feet, and throw him overboard. The captain having full information of what was going on, from the steward, determined rather than the ship should be taken, to perish with all on board. After recommending his soul to God, he looked up the companion and observed the three mates, one of whom "W I- J U K- J N. MUTI- t 'T SEA. 65 had a rope in his hand ready to secure him. The captain then holding tlie muzzle of one pistol into a barrel of pow- der, and the other pistol in his right hand, prepared to meet them. White first came down, but appeared thun- derstruck when the captain, pointing his pistol towards him, declared if he moved an inch he would blow his brains out, and discharge the other pistol into the powder. White appeared petrified with fear, and the captain re- mained in this position several minutes, with the pistol ready cocked, observing that the slightest pressure on the trigger would send them all into the air. White begged for mercy, and the captain drove him with the muzzle of the pistol into a state "^^oom, where he locked him in. . The second mate came down soon after to look after White and on receiving a similar reception, ran up the compan- ion, and fell against his brother, who was standing on the hatchway v^th a rope destined to tie the captain hand and foot. The captain, finding the ship was going out of her course, went on the deck with the steward, well armed, and found some of the men inclined to relent. He threat- ejned to shoot the first man that disobeyed orders, afid re- .^ricted the crew to a particular part of the vessel. Having, however, heard that the crew were still disposed to seize Ae ship, he thought it best to run the ship into Buenos Ayres. White, in the interim, was released. The captain, v^arpenter, and steward, kept watch, well armed. Bur- wood, the second mate, made a confession of his guilt, which tended to implicate White as the ringleader of the mutiny. On the 7th of December, the vessel arrived in the River Plata, and anchored close to his Majesty's ship North Star, Captain Vernon Harcourt commander. An mquiry then took place, from which it appeared that the mutineers intended to have taken the vessel into Tristan d'Acunha. The depositions were taken before the British Consul at Buenos Ayres, and Captain Harcourt ; and the three officers, George White, William Burwood, and Jo- seph Burwood, together with John Breymen, boat-steerer, and Henry Best, were instantly placed under arrest on board the North Star. The proceedings against the other men were dropped, from the great expense attending their removal to England with the necessary evidence ; but 6* 66 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. Captain Harcourt undertook to detain them until tlie de- parture of the Manly. The conduct of Captain Davies, in this trying aflair. has been spoken of as above all praise. The Manly is a fine vessel, and there was every prospect of a profitable voy- age. She was formerly a fourteen gun brig, and was well provided with arms and ammunition, which is supposed to have excited the crew to mutiny, as being well adapted to a piratical expedition. THE DEAD ALIVE. There lived once in Switzerland, a rich bachelor, about forty years of age, called Peter Gortz, who had the repu- tation of being a very pious, but rather austere and thrifty man. He kept but one servant, an orphan, whom, as a child, he took to wait on him, and afterwards taught her to write and read, boasting her fidelity, and indulging her, as if she had been his daughter. He was her only friend. At sixteen, Carohne de Burgh was as comely a girl as eyes need see, with the gait of a peacock, and a skin like new milk ; but, from her silent and almost haughty dispo- sition, the young men called her prude, the young women, fool ; though mothers, even of less lowly station, would point her out to their own giddy geese, and cry, " Take pattern from poor Lina 1" Suddenly she appeared to grow timorous and melan- choly; and, one day, was seen by a neighbor to hurry from her master's house, in fearful agitation. Peter Gort2 pursued, but missed her ; the neighbor sought with better Ibrtune, and overheard her muttering to herself, " The virgin forbid I should be so rash — yet — any thing rather than that ! I can bear it no longer." This man instantly seized and questioned her on the meaning of these words ; but.^ as she only trembled, blushed, and wept, he forcibly led her back to her master, who looked pleased at her re- turn, and on what she had said being repeated to him, merely laughed out, " I was too strict this morning, per- haps ; silly wench, don't quarrel with thy second father.** . THE DEAD ALIVE. 67 ^¥Tiat was this person's amaze, when next morning his wealthy neighbor ran to him, all affright, with the tidings? that his house had been robbed of gold and plate to a large amount, though no locks were broken, and his ser- vant either murdered and concealed, or carried off alive, which seemed most likely, as every thing that had belong- ed to her was missing, and no sounds of contention had disturbed her master in the night. The menaces she had used, tempted the hearer at once to suspect her, though the loser did not. She must, it was supposed, have taken the road to her native village. Officers of justice pursued that route, and, overtaking a wagon, whose driver looked alarmed at their appearance, insisted on searching it. There, indeed, they found a female, answering the de- scription given them, hidden with her trunk amid the straw. She denied her name, but a sheathed knife waa found about her, on which it was graven. " Well," she cried, as if bewildered, " no law can force my return to him." Not heeding her, they lifted out her box. "'Tii* heavy enough," said one, significantly. " Is it 1" she screamed to the driver. This appeal caused them to arrest him also. Falling on his knees, he swore, by all the saints, that he only knew this girl as having hired him, in the next town, to come privately to a certain house, foi herself and baggage ; that he had gone, stolen in, moved the box from her chamber to his wagon, where, by an- other bribe, she had induced him to conceal her. The lid was forced, and at the bottom of her wardrobe, sewn into some articles of apparel, were discovered a sum of money and several articles of silver, bearing the initials of Peter Gortz. In positive distraction, Caroline skrieked, " I re- fused to be his wife, and I told him I would leave him. Oh, he threatened to punish me 1" " You had threatened it too," said one of her captors, " and now, of course, would fain criminate your accuser." " Nay, then, I am lost indeed !" she cried, and was conveyed to the prison of the town she had just left, amid the execrations of its assembled inhabitants, who had never before heard of such a way as hers, for requiting an offer of mai riage from a superior. She was tried immediately on her apj J^ehension, Wlio C8 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. could bear witness in her favor? Who knew her diaiac- ter as well as Peter Gortz himself? He gave his evidence with extreme reluctance ; every thing tended to provo her guilt. She was condemned to die without delay, yet the priest who attended her could gain no avowal of the theft. Finding her so impenitent, he tried all the power of terror on her soul, with but the result of unnerving her for the awful fate she was to meet. 1 cannot grace my story with a word of praise of her heroism. She begged for time ; she supplicated the virgin to interpose and save her young days ; she grovelled at the feet of her guards. Her shrieks and groans rung from the very scaffold. She struggled with her executioner, till even he was overpow- ered by her pleading beauty. At length, her strength and reason failed — she became insensible. The fatal cord was adjusted, and the poor wretch left to hang for the usually appointed hour. Her body, according to the sentence of the law, was given for dissection. It fell to the lot of a rising anato- mist, named Ebreson, who had it conveyed to the wont- ed scene of his scientific vigils, a large arched cellar be- neath his house, chosen for its coolness ; yet its air was noisome, and its walls discolored. It was lighted from the ceiling by an antique lamp, whose rays fell upon the in- struments of his labor, and the still more terrific looking preparations on which he had toiled. The operator was accustomed to attire himself, for those experiments, in a dark dress, which tightly fitted his gigantic figure, and left his lean arms bare. His fiery eyes, cadaverous and strong features, set off by black locks, which streamed over his shoulders, must have rendered him a frightful picture. Be- fore him, on the table, lay the body of Caroline, partially covered with a cloth, often before used for similar pur- poses, and here and there, stained from the dead. Ebre- son, who had hitherto been constrained to study from such revolting remnants as his elders might leave of their church-yard spoils, was gratified in attaining an entire figure, so recently deprived of life. He had not attended Caroline's trial, though he had Hstened, with a sad, shud- dering interest, to the account of her early crimes and punishiuent. He commenced his examination. The limbs THE DEAD ALIVE. 69 were scarce yet rigid ; and when he bared the face, he observed the manner of her death had neither blackened nor distorted it; for the first time was he aware of her identity with one he had seen walking the world in maiden pride ; oft had he felt inclined to ask the young thing's name. He knew it now — and half forgetting his art, sighed forth, "Had she but been as good as she was fair, this is not a breast that I could lacerate." He turned away to make some preparations for his hor- rid work, when a heavy sigh, which seemed to bear upon its breath the word, " Mercy !" recalled him to the side of Caroline. He seized her wrist, a feeble fluttering pulse vibrated, thrilHng to his touch. She opened her eyes, gazed round her, saw the surgeon, and all his accompanying horrors. She sprung from the board, and threw herself at his feet : her own disarray af- fected her not. The feelings of this world she believed had passed away for ever ; but in the most earnest ac- cents, she articulated, " I know not whether I am in the presence of God or a devil, but I am innocent 1" " Inno- cent !" repeated Ebreson, in his sepulchral voice. " Yes," she continued, wringing her hands ; " in pity, torture me not ; or say this dismal place is but purgatory — that I did deserve, for I did carry a knife about me, that I might put an end to my own life, rather than be his ; but of the crime for which I suffered, he knows me guiltless ; and ^hou, terrible being ! canst read in my soul that I speak ruth. Thou look'st just — this v/ill not last eternally. Spare, -save me ! and I will worship thee !" Such an appeal, in such circumstances, and under such delusion, could not for a moment be doubted. Ebreson, in a transport of grotitude, poured over that bruised throat the vinegar which he kept at hand as a disinfector, weeping forth — " Be calm, child ! and fear me not — you are with a fellow creature, who believes, and will protect you. This earth, and the life so miraculously preserved, shall still be en- deared to you." Instantly screening her limbs from the chill air, he led her to his own room, and consigned her to bed, brought her food and wine while his servant slept, and would have left her to rest, but that her state still bordered on deh 70 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. rium ; so he sat all night, like an elder brother, beside her But now what was to be done ? To announce her exist- ence to the world, cruelly as it had used her, and branded as was her lowly name, might but provoke fresh persecu- tions ; she had no power to prove the crimes of Gortz , her new benefactor's bare assertion of her innocence would not have impressed others with a hke conviction , for Ebreson was, as yet, an obscure and needy man. The only course left was to fly, call herself something else, and. in a distant part of the country, live in retirement; but how could she gain a living, while unable to mix with her kind ? Ebreson resolved never to abandon her — he could toil for both. He could trust no one with his secret. Caroline, he thought, would no longer be exclusively his, if he shared the knowledge of her life with his dearest friend. He had one brother in the place, a Catholic cure. Lociiing up his treasure, he stole out ere dawn, awakened this holy man, and borrowed all his money, by telling him that debts and some quarrels relative to a hasty marriage, forced him to change his name and i^esidence. The priest charged himself with forwarding all goods. Ebreson then hired a swift conveyance, bade Caroline array herself in his attire, packed up his books, instruments, and wardrobe, and started. When his servant rose, the cure was ready to account for any thing. Ebreson found in his poor Caroline such intellect and virtue, that he married her. The good cure settled with them, and they knew not what had become of Gortz, save that he had left the theatre of his wickedness. One night Frere Basil entered their abode, with a face of dismay : "Brother," he said, " I come from a shocking sight— -the death-bed of a despairing sinner. I was called in to ad- minister the consolations of religion to an aged man, who has not long resided here. He will have no physician, though the people about him think he cannot see another sun rise ; yet poverty is not the sole cause of his reckless- ness — he refused the last sacrament, calling himself un- worthy of it ; so 1 hastened to secure charitable aid. " What is this unhappy penitent's name ?" asked the wife." " Gortz, sister." " Now, all the gentle saints be praised !" she cried. " No questions, brother : our neighbor, the no- THE DEAD ALIVE. 71 taiy, must accompany us all. Pray heaven we are not too late !" This party accordingly hurried to the wretched abode of the dying man ; as they entered his chamber, they heard him rave : " Talk not to me of sealed confes- sions^the whole world gaped on her degradation — and I have wandered for twenty years, like the accursed, undy- \n^ Israelite — still no rest from that thought. I can give ye nothing, mercenaries ! If ye find any gold, bury it at the gallows foot, or lay it out in masses — but no ! no hopes of pardon for thy murderer, innocent Lina !" Caroline drew aside his curtain ; at first he stared, with- out recognition. When she called him by name, believing that he beheld a spirit, he coweringly hid his face ; but, removing his hand from his eyes, she whispered, "Peter Gortz ! take courage ! I bring you peace and pardon — you are no murderer. The queen of heaven enabled her true servant wondrously to save me from death, and you from despair. I am a happy wife and mother. Yonder is my husband, come to serve you, if he can." The moment Gortz was assured of her life, he started up, and — retributive justice again ! begged for one hour's — for but one half hour's breath. " Some potent restora- tive," he cried ; " my poor girl's fame must be cleared to all the world, and as much atonement made as wealth can do." The draught was given — the notary was ready : to him Peter deposed that, believing Caroline thought herselt entirely dependent and in his power, her rejection of his suit, and threats of departure, had stung him to vindictive madness. She told him she had packed up, ready to set forth with the first light, and insisted on leaving the house to seek a conveyance, telling him that she had left her trunk open, and he might search it if he would, for she had stolen nothing. These words gave his hitherto indefinite desire for revenge a feasible shape ; and, during her absence, he ijad actually sewn into her raiment the plate and money which he concealed at the bottom of her box, leaving it apparently just as he found it ; and when she returned, he bid her farewell with a semblance of relenting, and retired for the nighf. Having made this statement, he formally consigned the whole of his wealth to her, and sunk into d peaceful slumber, from which he never awoke in this world. 72 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. THE BACKWOODS OF AMERICA. BY A RESIDENT OF SIXTEEN YEARS. The North American wolf is naturally shy ; and if we may place confidence in those stories we hear of the lav ages committed by the wolves inhabiting some of the mountainous regions of Europe, he is, by comparison with nis brethren of the Old World, a very harmless sort ot creature. This great mildness of disposition is not, how- ever, owing to any physical deficiency ; for although cer- tainly less voracious than the European wolf, he is some- what larger and stronger. In America they are rarely Known to attack human beings ; for during a long resi- dence in a district where they were rather numerous, I never was able to make out a clear case where a person had been attacked by them. I have indeed heard of per- sons being pursued, or hunted, as the Americans call it, by a number .of wolves ; but in all such cases the individuals were on horseback ; and therefore the probability is, that the wolves pursued the horses, and not the men. How- ever, from the facts I am about to relate, it would seem otherwise. A medical gentleman residing not far from the Chemung river, a tributary of the noble Susquehanna, had one night, in the middle of winter, been visiting a sick person at a distance of eight or ten miles from his own house. The country in that vicintty was then quite new, and but very few settlers had encroached on the aboriginal forests. The doctor had been accustomed for some years to travel through those wild regions at all seasons, and at all hours, by day and by night, but never had been in any way mo- lested ; nor had he ever had the slightest apprehension of danger from the wolves that were known occasionally to mhabit the surrounding woods. On the night in question, he set off homeward at a late hour, as he frequently had been wont to do ; but before he had proceeded far, he became aware of his being pursued by a gang of wolves. The night was exceedingly frosty, but clear and star-light. For awhile they were only heard at a distance ; but bv- THE BACKWOODS OF AMERICA. 75 and-by the doctor could clearly distinguish five or six oi them in full chase within less than twenty rods of him. The snow being pretty deep at the time, he found it was Impossible to leave them ; so he made up his mind to (juit his horse, and ascend the first tree which appeared favor- able for such a purpose. It was not long before such a one offered ; and, permitting his horse to go at large, he was amongst the branches in a few seconds, and quite out of the reach of his hungry pursuers. He never doubted but they would continue in pursuit of his horse, which he flattered himself would be able, now that he was relieved from his load, to make his escape. But, to his surprise, he beheld no fewer than eight large wolves come round the tree on which he had taken shelter, and, instead of pursuing his horse, quietly awaited his coming down. Al- though he had no wish to descend under such circum- stances, he was fully aware of the fate that awaited him should he find it expedient to remain until morning in his present situation. To escape from the effects of the keen frost he knew was impossible ; and therefore he deter- mined to maintain his position, in spite of the occasional serenading of the party below. What his feelings were during the night, or how the wolves contrived to amuse themselves for so many hours, I cannot precisely state ; but about day-dawn they united in a farewell howl, and left the poor benumbed doctoral liberty to descend. With great difficulty he succeeded in reaching the ground ; and with still more he managed to reach the nearest dwelling, distant about three miles, from whence he was conveyed to his own house in a sleigh. Had his family been aware that the horse had returned without his rider, they un- doubtedly would have gone in search of the doctor, and most probably have relieved him from his imprisonment at a much earlier hour. Bat although the horse had, no doubt, gallopped straight to its stable door, the family knew nothing of its arrival until daylight returned. The doctor did not escape without experiencing the ill effects of roosting for half a dozen hours in a leafless tree, n a severe North American January's frost ; for a morti- Ication ensuing in both his feet, the only chance of saving nis life was by amputating both his legs. However, the 76 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. doctor yet lives to narrate his adventure, or, as he terms it, " his wolf scrape ;" and is one of the few instances on record in his part of the world, of having been in real danger of becoming a supper for a few of those hungry aninjals. The winter was more than usually severe among the mountams on the north waters of the Susquehanna. The snow fell early in the month of December, so that w'nte" * might be said to have set in pretty decidedly some time before Christmas. I had been on a visit for a few weeks . in the vicinity of S L ; but had accepted of an invitation to meet a party of my own country people, at the residence of my kind friends, Mr. and Mrs. T , on the last day in December, with an understanding that we were " to dance in the new year ;" for even in the back settlements of America we could at times meet and dance, and enjoy whatever the country afforded, forgetting for a time the gayer and more splendid scenes we had once been familiar with in our dear native country. The distance I had to travel was but six miles ; yet the road — if a dim track through the woods might be so called — was at all seasons bad ; now the snow was so deep that it was ren- dered still worse, so that it took a considerable time to get through'it. At that season of the year the wolves occa- sionally infest the neighborhood ; and although at all sea- sons depredations are liable to be committed upon the small flocks of sheep in the vicinity, yet it is in winter, when they pack and hunt together, that the greatest danger is to be apprehended. The day previous to my proposed visit, a party of thirteen (for their numbers were easily ascertained by their tracks in the snow) had issued from their haunts in the adjoining forest, and had destroyed nearly fifty sheep belonging to the gentleman with whom I.was sojourning. Although they had probably sucked the blood of the chief part of the sheep they had killed, they of course had not been able to devour the carcasses of more than a fourth part ; it looked as if they had slaughtered them through sheer wantonness. My invita- tion to my friends was to dine at two o'clock ; for it is not customary to keep to the extremes of fashion in the back woods. I, however, for some reason or other, saw fit to THE BACKWOODS OF AMERICA. 77 defer going until evening, when, as my road lay close along the edge of the swamp the wolves were known to inhabit, I stood a good chance of being serenaded by their wild and melancholy howlings, and probably might arouse some of them from their lairs. My friends pressed me to travel by dayhght, but 1 kept my determination ; and jus/ as the shades of evening were closing in, I desired mj horse to be got ready ; and when the boy brought hiiB «!addled to the door, he called my attention to the howling of the wolves, which could be distinctly heard in the exact direction of the road I had to travel, although the noise seemed to proceed from a swamp at a couple of miles distance. Being prepared with a stout cudgel m Heu of a riding- whip, I mounted my horse, and set forward, already begmning to repent of having delayed my journey until so late an hour. By the time 1 had passed the scene of car- nage of the preceding day, and was about to enter the dark and almost trackless woods, daylight had totally dis- appeared, and nothing remained for me but to pursue my way, and make the best of it. I had not proceeded far ere I came to a steep descent where the water from an adjoining spring had overflowed the snow, which was consequently formed into a continued sheet of ice, all the way down the dechvity. My^lbrse being smooth-shod, I deemed it safer to walk ; therefore dismounting, and taking the bridle in my hand, I endeavor- ed to lead the way down the slippery path. Before, how- ever, I had got half way to the bottom, away slid both my feet, andidown I came. My horse was so startled at the suddenness of my fall, that he made a spring to one side of the track, lost his footing, and came down close beside me. But in the spring he made when I fell, from my hand being fast in the bridle, I was jerked back some dis- tance up the hill with such force, that, when I recoverea a little from the shock, I felt fully persuaded that my shoulder was dislocated. We both, however, gathered ourselves up as well as we were able ; and there we stood, in no condition to protect ourselves fromthe wolves, should they see fit to attack us ; for from the way in which my horse stood, I was afraid that he had suffered still more damage than myself. When the pain Df my shoulder had 78 EA-PLOITS AND ADVENTURES. somewhat subsided, I examined it more minutely, and convinced myself that it was not dislocated ; but the se- vere wrench had injured it so much that I had no hope of making use of that arm during the remainder of my ride. And as regarded my horse, I was pleased to find that In still possessed the use of his four legs, although one of them moved with less ease than it had done before. Hav- ing contrived to get to the bottom of the descent, I again mounted, with extreme difficulty — for I could only use my left hand — in which I had to grasp both the bridle and my war-club. Had the wolves attacked us, we should have been in considerable danger ; for I found, on preceding, that one of my horse's fore legs was severely sprained . but either they were not aware of our condition, or thoy were in no need of a supper ; for on getting beyond the confines of the swamp, 1 aroused several of them from their quiet hiding-places ; and instead of stopping to scru- tinize me and my horse, away they ran through the thick underwood, while I hallooed with all my might, giving eveiy tree within the reach of my club, a good left-handed blow or two. In this manner I continued along the dim ^nd unbroken track, feigning to be a very hero — although [ candidly confess that I only recollect one or two in- staiHes in my whole life when I felt so thoroughly intimi- dated. Afterwards, I could not help thinking that I had only received the i-eward of my folly — for I had sprained my own shoulder severely — injured my horse's leg — dis- appointed myself of the pleasant society of my friends for a few hours — and all this for the credit of being able to ooast of having dared to ride past the " wolf swamp'' after night-fall, when it was known that thirteen ravenous wolves were inhabiting it. CAPTURE OF TICONDEROGA. BY COL. ETHAN ALLEN. The first systematic, or bloody attempt at Lexington lo enslave America, thoroughly electrified my mind, ana CAPTURE OP TICONDEROGA. 79 fully determined me to take a part with my country. And while 1 was waiting for an opportunity to signalize myself In its behalf, directions were privately sent to me from the then colony, now State of Connecticut, to rally the Green Mountain boys, and, if possible, to surprise and take the fortress of Ticonderoga. This enterprise I cheerfully un- dertook ; and after guarding all the several passages that led thither, to cut off all intelligence between the garrison and the country, made a forced march from Bennington, and arrived at the lake at Ticonderoga with two hundred and thirty valiant Green Mountain boys ; and it was with the utmost difficulty that I procured boats to cross the lake. However, 1 had landed eighty-three men near the garrison, and sent the boats back for the vanguard, com- manded by Col. Seth Warner ; as the day began to dawn, and I found myself necessitated to attack the fort before the rear could cross the lake ; and as it was viewed haz- ardous, I harangued the officers and soldiers in the follow- ing manner : " Friends and fellow soldiers : you have for a number of years past been the scourge and terror to arbitrary power. Your valor has been famed abroad, and ac- knowledged, as appears by the orders to me from the General Assembly of Connecticut, to surprise and take the garrison now before us. I now propose to advance before you, and, in person, conduct you through the wicket gate ; for we must this morning either quit our pretensions to valor, or possess ourselves of this fortress, in a few minutes ; and, inasmuch as it is a desperate attempt, which none but the bravest men dare undertake, I do not urge it on any, contrary to his will. You that will undertake, voluntarily, poise your fii-elocks." The men being at this time drawn up in three ranks, each poised his firelock. I ordered them to face to the right ; and at the head of the centre file, marched them immediately to the wicket gate, aforesaid, where I found a sentry posted, who immediately snapped his fusee at me. I ran immediately towards him, and he retreated throJigh the covered way into the parade within the garri- son, gave a halloo, and ran under a bomb-proof. My party followed me into the fort. 1 formed on the parade in such 80 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. a manner as to face the barracks, which faced each other. The garrison being asleep, except the sentries, we gave three huzzas, which greatly surprised them. One of the sentries made a pass at one of my officers with a charged bayonet, and sliglitly wounded him. My first thought was to kill him with my sword, but in an instant I altered the design and fury of the blow to a slight cut on the side of the head ; upon which he dropped his gun, and asked quarters, which I readily granted him, and demanded where the commanding officer slept ; he showed me a pair of stairs in front of the garrison, which led up to the second story in said barracks, to which I immediately re- paired, and ordered the commander, Captain Delapiace, to come forth instantly, or I would sacrifice the whole garrison ; at which the captain came immediately to the door, with his breeches in his hand, when I ordered him to deliver up the fort, instantly. He asked me by what authority I demanded it. I answered him : " In the name of the great Jehovah, and the Continental Congress." The authority of Congress being very little known at that time, he began to speak again, but I interrupted him, and with a drawn sword near his head demanded an immediate sur- render of the garrison ; with which he then complied, and ordered his men to be forthwith paraded widiout arms, as he had given up the garrison. In the mean time some of my officers had given orders, and in consequence therpof sundry of the barrack doors were beaten down, and about one third of the garrison imprisoned, which consisted of said commander, a Lieutenant Felham, a conductor of ar- tillery, a gunner, two sergeants, and forty-four rank and file ; about one hundred pieces of cannon, one thirteen mch mortar, and a number of swivels. This enterprise was carried into execution in the gfay of the morning ol the 10th of May, 1775. The sun seemed to rise that morning with a superior lustre ; and Ticonderoga and its dependencies smiled upon its conquerors, who tossed about the flowing bowl, and drank success to Congress, and liberty and I'reedom to America. MYSTERIOUS INTERPOSITION OP PROVIDENCE. 81 MYSTERIOUS INTERPOSITION OF PROVIDENCE. Ir may be presumed that all wise and religious men have come to the settled conclusion, that, in regard to supposed remarkable providential interpositions, we ought neither to believe lightly, nor to reject sceptically ; neither to admit unproved tales, nor to fight against well supported facts. The general doctrine, that the all-powerful and all- wise Creator can and may afford extraordinary manifesta- tions, is not doubted by any Christian ; and that he occa- sionally does so, even in modern times, is both consistent with reason, and supported by evidence. Such facts, when fully substantiated, are too valuable to be overlooked ; they form a link between the visible and the unseen world ; and I am induced therefore to bring before your readers a re- markable narrative, which is seriously vouched for by the author of " Tremaine," and which, if true, must be capable of corroboration from other sources. I cannot, suppose that the writer, though anonymous, has fabricated the story, as Defoe did that of Mrs. Veal's ghost, to recommend Dre- lincourt's work on Death ; but in so serious a matter, I should wish for direct and well-authenticated testimony. The surviving friends of Sir Evan Nepean, or some gen- tleman in the public offices, must surely be able to vouch for the facts, if they really occurred. The narrative is as follows : " At the memorable dinner at Mr. Andrews, which I have mentioned, his story naturally recalled many others, of the same kind ; and one voluble gentleman, who had a greater range than accuracy of memory, asserted that Sir Evan Nepean, when under-secretary of state, had been warned by a vision to save the lives of three or four per- sons, who, but for this appearance, would all of them have been hanged through Sir Evan's neglect. '• You may well suppose we did not give much credence to this ; but knowing Sir Evan very well, 1 informed him of what he was charged with, and begged him to tell me what the ghost said. ' The gentleman,' said he, good hi»- moredly, ' romances not a little ; but what he alludes t<^ o the most extraordinary thing that ever happened to me 82 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. " He went on to tell me, that one night, several years before, he had the most unaccountable wakefulness thai could be imagined. He was in perfect health — had dined early and moderately — had no care, nothing to brood over and was perfectly self-possessed. Still he could not sleep, and from eleven to two in the morning, had never closed an eye. It was summer, and twilight was far advanced ; and to dissipate the emiui of his wakefulness, he resolved to lise and breathe the morning air in the park. There he saw nothing but sleepy sentinels, whom he rather en- vied. He passed the Home Office several times, and at last, without any particular object, resolved to let himself in with his pass-key. The book of entries of the day be- fore lay open upon the table, and, in sheer listlessness, he began to read. The first thing appalled him : ' A reprieve to be sent to York, for the coiners ordered for execution the next day.' It struck him that he had no return to his order to send the reprieve ; and he searched the minutes, but could not find it. In alarm, he went to the house of the chief clerk, who lived in Downing street, roused him up, (it was then long past three,) and asked him if he knew any thing of the reprieve being sent. In greater alarm, the chief clerk could not remember. ' You are scarcely awake,' said Sir Evan; 'collect yourself; it must have been sent.' The chief clerk said he did now recollect he had sent it to the clerk of the crown, whose business it was to forward it to Yf)rk. ' Good,' said Sir Evan ; ' but have you his receipt and certificate that it is done V ' No 1' Then come with me to his house ; we must find him, it /s so early.' It was now four, and the clerk of the crown nved in Chancery lane. There was no hackney coach, and they almost ran. The clerk of the crown had a coun- try house, and meaning to have a long holiday, he was at that moment stepping into his gig, to go to his villa. As- tonished at the visit of the under-secretary at such an hour, ne was still more so at his business. " With an exclamation of horror, cried the clerk of the crown, ' The reprieve is locked up in my desk.' It was Drought . Sir Evan sent to the post-office for the trustiest and fleetest express, and the reprieve reached York the MYSTERIOUS INTERPOSITION OF PROVIDENCE. 83 next morning, at the moment the unhappy people were ascending the cart." The above facts are so extraordinary, that they require ample verification. The narrative may have been incor- rectly transmitted ; and if Sir Evan Nepean cannot be proved to have related it circumstantial'y as it is given above, it might be resolved into the more simple state- ment, that not having received a return to his order to send the reprieve, he was uneasy, and went out in the night to his office, to satisfy his mind. This takes away the most wonderful portion of the story, though it still leaves several remarkable circumstances, which may be justly termed " providential," particularly the finding the crown clerk precisely as he was setting off" for the country, at four o'clock in the morning, so as just to allow time for the express to arrive at York before the execution. rJP tF tF vp ^ -X- But if the facts recorded of Sir Evan are correctly nar- rated, they are very extraordinary, and ought to be kept on record, as an instructive illustration of the providential care of God. Sir Evan's unaccountable wakefulness ; his getting up, and walking out in the park at two o'clock in the morning ; his promenading up and down before the Home Office, and determining to go in without any object ; his having the pass-key, and letting himself in through the doors and fastenings, unnoticed by the sentinels ; his find- ing the entry-book not deposited in its proper place, but left carelessly on the table ; his happening to notice the very entry upon which so much depended ; his not being satisfied with the chief clerk's statement, that the reprieve had been duly sent to the proper officer, the clerk of the crown, but repairing to that officer, at four o'clock in the morning, to know if it had been forwarded ; and his find- ing him before he set out on his intended journey, just in time, and barely in time, to prevent the execution — pre sent a chain of events little short, in their union, of a direct miracle, though each particular was of trivial occurrence. The whole depends upon the exact circumstances being accurately ascertained. There may be some mystery not unfolded. Sir Evan might be laboring under somnambu- lism, and have gone to his office, as persons under *hat in 84 EXPLOITS, AND ADVENl URES. i^uence have often done to the scenes of their daily affairs, aiui have taken down the book, and placed it on the table before he was awake. Still, the providential interposition would not be the less apparent. Or he might have gone to examine the office books in secret, more especially if he suspected any negligence or irregularity ; and he might not, for obvious reasons, wish to state this, but would rather pass off his visit, which the neglect about the re- prieve, had unavoidably brought to light, as a mere acci- dental circumstance. His having a pass-key to open, not merely office desks and presses, but outer doors, is some- vvnat singular, unless he thought it his duty to make occa- sional inspections, when the clerks and attendants were absent. Such facts require to be fully cleared up, before any decided conclusion can be grounded upon them. Immeasurably glorious and consolatory is the doctrine of a special individual providence. What can be more delightful than the consciousness, that we have an all-wise and almighty Friend, who is about our path, and about our bed ; who knows all our ways ; and without whose vigi lant superintendence, not a hair of our head falls to the ground. To understand and valufe this truth rightly, we must look at it in all its range. We must not confine it to a few striking incidents ; to the apparently strongly marked, isolated footsteps of the Divine power ; we must not be too anxious to catch at the extraordinary incidents, as if it were only in such events as these that the traces of omnis- cient Providence are to be found. Whether such narra- tives as those above related are correct or not, the grand truth of a superintending Providence lies much deeper; it extends throughout the whole course of human life ; it Degan, so far as concerns mankind, with Adaui, and it will not cease till the morning of the resurrection : and even if no such inspired histories as those of Abraham, or [saac, or Jacob, or Joseph, or Moses, or David, were on record ; and there were no such uninspired corrobora tions as the page of liistory amply affords ; still the last day will solve all difficulties, and show, amidst every para- dox, that there is " a God that judgeth in the earth." GIRL RESCUED FROM AN INDIAN. 85 (ilRL RESCUED FROM AN INDIATN". Previous to the revolution, when a few ordinary look- ing buildings occupied the present site of the pleasant vil- lage of Exeter, it is well known that the country around was generally a wilderness, inhabited by numerous tribes of Indians; The intercourse between them and the early settlers was fj-equent, though not of a friendly nature. The natives, improvident, indolent, and idle, were continually begging and stealing from their more frugal and industrious neighbors. As the benefit of such an intercourse was all on one side, and to the serious inconvenience and injury of the other, it was suffered to continue by the whites, only because they were the weaker party, and did not possess the power to discontinue it. At this time, an elderly farmer by the name of Rowe, lived on the south bank of the Exeter river, a short distance below the falls, and near, the present site of Furnald's tan- nery. Among the numerous natives that used to frequent nis house, was a young Indian from the borders of the Concheco river. Mr. Rowe had a daughter by the name of Caroline, a comely lass of seventeen, to whom this Indian became much attached, and wished to take her home with him, and make her his squaw. The young lady treated all his overtures with scorn and derision ; for she had no particular fancy for the Indian character, or his orccarious mode of life. Whether the Indian was capable of the most refined and delicate sensations of love, it is not necessary to determine ; but it is certain he exhibited all ihe frenzy of some of our modern lovers, on being so de- cidedly rejected and forbidden the hospitalities of the house. Finding entreaties vain, he did not give up in de- jpair ; but formed a resolution to possess himself of the object of his wishes, willing or unwilling. This was a bold and hazardous undertaking, and in which, if detected, his life would be the forfeit ; but his ungovernable feelings prompted him on at all hazards. One day, at early dawn, he glided up the river in his canoe, unperceived ; and to prevent given alarm, hid it on the opposite shore, swam across, and concealed himself f 8 86 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. near the house of Mr. Rowe. The family had not yet arisen ; and he waited there sometime in breathless anx- iety, for a favorable moment to seize his intended victim. At length he heard the family stirring in the house ; and soon after, saw Mr. Rowe come out of the door, and pass on to his rude built barn, to feed his cattle. When he was fairly out of sight, the Indian rushed into the kitchen, and to his great joy, found Miss Caroline there alone. He did not stop to parley, but folded her in his arms at once ; and, notwithstanding her screams and resistance, he triumph- antly bore her to the river, and with her plunged into the stream. Her father heard her cries, seized his pitchfork, the only weapon he had at hand, and pursued the Indian ; but he only arrived 'on the bank just as they leaped into the water. The father, being unequal to the task of swim- ming across, ran some distance up the stream for a boat — he luckily found one, jumped into it, and started off in pur- suit. Meanwhile the Indian swam across the river with his fair one, to his bark canoe, put her into it, and paddled off down the stream as fast as he could. The father, as he turned round the bend of the river, came in full view of the fugitives, and paddled after them with all his strength. There was an interesting aquatic race ; and the boats glided on the surface of the water, with the swiftness of an arrow. The Indian labored under some disadvantages — he had two in his canoe, and propelled i> with a paddle ; the old gentleman was alone in his boat had row-locks, and two good oars ; and would, beyonc* question, shortly have won the race, had not the Indian bolted. His keen eye soon observed that the other boat neared him fast in spite of all his efforts, and that he soon would be caught if he continued in the w^ater. He found a small creek on the west side of the river ; he ran his boat into it, and trusted to the swiftness of his feet and the dense forest of trees to elude his pursuer. The father fol- lowed on ; but after trying the forest awhile, he found it was a losing race to h^m. He could ply the oar with more effect than he could the foot. He lost sight of the fugi- tives ; but as he found no difficulty in tracing their foot steps in the frost, and in the occasional patches of snow he resolutely pushed forward. GIRL RESCUED FROM AN INDIAN. 9k The pursuit had continued for some hours — the father was an elderly man and somewhat infirm ; he became weary and began to falter. There seomed to be no pros- pect of his overtaking the Indian, or of rescuing his daugh- ter ; but as he could not think of returning without her, he still continued on, even against hope. At this critical juncture of severe trial and deep des- pondency, the welcome form of a youthful hunter, met his eye. He was on his return home, from a short excursion ill the woods. To him he unfolded his tale of wo, and the vigorous youth, fired at the outrage committed by a son ot the forest on the peace and dignity of a daughter of civilized life, started off" with zeal in the pursuit. Night had already commenced its reign ; but the moon wheeled its broad disk in the sky and shone almost as bright as day. He could follow their trail without much difficulty ; and a few hours active pursuit brought him in sight of them. The Indian had kept a good look out, and was aware of his approach ; but was artful enough to make the young lady his shield of defence. He made her walk between himself and the hunter, so that he could not fire without endangering her life. The hunter followed on at a distance for some time ; but the vigilance of the Indian rhwarted every attempt to attack him. At length the young hunter, determined at all events to rescue the young lady, hit upon an expedient which proved successful. He lingered behind as though he had become fatigued, and let the Indian pass on out of sight. He then took a sweep around the Une of their march as fast as he could, came out ahead on their route, concealed himself behind a tree, and shot the Indian through the head as he passed along. They were then in what is now the town of Medbury ; but they had travelled a long distance, as the Indian took a circuitous route, in order to elude his pursuers. Thus was the young lady rescued, and relieved at once from her tedious flight and from her fearful apprehensions of a hfe of wretchedness and wo, among the natives of the forest; and thus the rash and passionate Indian rightly paid the forfeit of his life for his bold and unjustifiable ab duction of a maiden, who had a positive dislike for himseli 90 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. and his nation. The graceful maiden and her generous deliverer immediately started on their return home. yVftcr travelling a short distance, they met her father, who had still continued on the track, notwithstanding his extreme fatigue. The chivalrous young hunter, as he surrendered his interesting charge to the arms of her father, and heard their warm-hearted acknowledgments for the signal ser vices he had rendered in their behalf, felt more true joy than ever actuated the breast of the great conqueror of tne world. Who might not be prompted to great and no- ble deeds of daring, even with a faint hope of obtaining such an interesting trophy of victory, and hearing from the lips of innocence and beauty the soul-stirring breathings of a grateful heart ! They all passed on to the house of the hunter, and the strangers partook of his hospitality and rested awhile their weary limbs. On taking leave the next day, the parting scene between the youthful hunter and the rescued daugh- ter was too interesting to be mistaken. It plainly inni- cated that their acquaintance, so suddenly, and under such strange and peculiar circumstances commenced, might not be doomed to an evanescent existence. The old gentle- man and his daughter soon reached home in safety, to re- lieve the anxiety and gladden the hearts of his family and friends. How strangely change the scenes of life ! Our great afflic- tions are often the very means by which we receive our greatest blessings. Six months after this event, the interest- ing Caroline was seen riding along, a willing bride, by the side of her gallant hunter, to bless his home and gladden his iieart. The rash abduction by the Indian, only hastened her on to the arms of a kind and affectionaie husband, and m his safe keeping, we may be allowed most respect fiillv to leave her. CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OF GENERAL WADSWORTH. After the failure of the expedition against, the British garrison at Penobscot, General Wadsworth was sent, in CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OF GEN. WADSWORTH. 91 {he spring of 1780 b^ the legislature of Massachusetts, to command the District of Maine. The principal objects ot his mission were to retain the inhabitants in their allegiance, ana in their attachment to the American cause, and to ob- struct the efforts of the eiiemy. In these employments he spent the summer of 1780, and the principal part of the following winter. Before the end of February he dis- missed his troops, the period of their enlistment being fini.shed, and began to make the necessary preparations foi his return to Boston. Mrs. Wadsworth, and a friend of ners, Miss Fenno, of Boston, had accompanied him, and continued here to this time. His prepax'ations for returning could not escape notice. A neighboring inhabitant, hostile to the American cause, had attentively observed his motions, and announced his design to the commander of the British fort ; observing, that, if he seized the present moment, he might make Gene- ral Wadsworth a prisoner ; that he was defenceless, having only six soldiers under his command ; that he would speed- ily leave the country ; and that the least delay would frus- trate this important object. The British commander lis- tened eagerly to the intelligence, and immediately sent a party of twenty-five soldiers, with their officers, to attack the house in wliich he lodged. They embarked in a small echooner, already equipped for a cruise, and proceeded to un inlet four miles from the general's quarters, called West South River. Here they arrived at the beginning of the "-vening, and lay concealed in the house of one Snow, a Methodist preacher, (professedly a friend to him, but really 1 traitor,) until eleven o'clock. The ground was covered tvith snow, and the weather severely cold. The surface, iU the neighborhood of the house, was hilly. An enemy could therefore advance within a few rods, without being discovered. For this reason the sentinel at the door was regularly ordered to fire his piece at the appearance of an enemy, and to escape without attemping to enter the house; as any effort of this nature would enable the enemy to en- ter at the same time. I'he party came suddenly upon the sentinel, who gave the alai-m by crying, " Who is there ?" His comrades in- stantly opened the door, and as he went in, the enemy fired 92 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. a volley into the kitchen, which was the soldier's guard- room, and entered it together with the sentinel. Anomer {)arty of them at the same instant fired through the win- dows of the room in which the general and his lady slept and blew the windows in. A third, at the same moment, forced their way through the windows, and took possession of the room in which Miss Fenno lay. Thus they were masters of the whole house, except the room where the general lay, which was strongly barred. The British officers, finding nobody in Miss Fenno's room, beside hej and Mrs. Wadsworth, who, hastily dressing herself, had escaped into it, ordered the firing there to cease. General Wadsworth had a pair of pistols, a blunder- buss, and a fusee. With the pistols, which he had dis- charged several times, he had defended the windows of his room, and a door which opened into the kitchen ; and pre- vented the assailants from entering. He now heard their feet advancing through the front entry, and snapped his blunderbuss at them. They retreated. He snapped it again at several of the soldiers, who were forcing their way through the pannel of the kitchen door. These re- treated also. He then seized his fusee, and discharged it upon some others, who were breaking through one of the windows. These also fled. The attack was then renewed through the entry. Against this he defended himself with his bayonet. His linen discovering him to the sol- diers in the kitchen, they fired at him ; and one of their balls went through his left arm, and terminated the con- test. Upon his announcing that he would surrender, the firing was ordered to cease. The soldiers, however, continued to fire from the kitchen. General Wadsworth, unbarring the door, and opening it, said, " My brave fellows, why do you fire after I have surrendered ?" The soldiers rushed into his room, and one of them, who had been badly wound ed, exclaimed, with an oath, " You have taken my life, and I will take yours," pointing a musket at his breast. The commanding officer, who had entered the room through the other door at that moment, struck the musket with his sword and saved the general's life. One of the officers now brought a candle from Miss Fenno's room, and ex- CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OP GEN. "WADS-WORTH. 93 claimed, " Sir, you have defended yourself too well ; you have done too much for one man. You must excuse haste. Shall we help you on with your clothes? You see we are in a critical situation." The soldiers were ordered out to parade before the door. The general's clothes were soon put on, except his coat which his wounded arm rendering it impossible for him to wear, was committed to a soldier. Mrs. VVadsworth and Miss Fenno came into the room , and, suppressing their intense emotion with admirable for- titude, proposed to examine the general's wound. This, liowe\er, the haste of the party prevented. . Mrs. Wads- worth threw a blanket over him, and Miss Fenno tied a handkerchief very closely around his arm, to check the copious c/Tusion of blood. A soldier then took him out of the house. He was much exhausted ; and, supposing the ball had cut an artery, told the officer he would not carry him far. Fortunately, however, the blood being congealed by the cold, and stayed by the bandage, ceased to flow and his strength and spirits speedily returned The parly withdrew in great haste, and increased their expedition m consequence of the report of a musket, fired at no great di^rtance, on the other side of the river. The two wounded British soldiers were mounted on a horse taken from General Wadsworth's barn. The general him- self and a wuunded American soldier, were on foot, but were aided in their march by their captors. When they had proceeded about a mile, a number of persons, who had gathered at a small house on the way, and who had seen the party when they went out, hailed them, and asked whether they had taken General Wadsworth. They said no ; and added, that they wished to leave a Wounded man with them ; that if they took good care of him, they should be well paid ; but if not, that they would come and burn their house. The wounded man, apparently dying, was then carried into the house ; and General Wadsworth, after be- ing warned that his safety depended upon his silence, was set on the horse behind the other wounded soldier. A part of their course lay over a frozen mill-pond, about a mile in length. At the head of this pond they were met by some of the party who had been left behind to take care of the Methodist preacher's house. These, having learned ihe 94 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES success of the enterprise, hurried back to the privateer, to carry the news. When the party reached the privateer some were overjoyed, and others swore bitterly. Tlie captain, particularly, was in a rage, on being informed that he must leturn with his privateer to the fort ; and, instead of sending the prisoner by a small boat, as had been origi- nally proposed, must convey him in his vessel. Seeing some of his men wounded, he demanded, with a furious voice, how he, the general, dared to fire on the king's troops, damned him for a rebel, and ordered him to go anO launch the boat, declaring, that if he did not, he would put his hanger through his body. General Wadsworth coldly answered, that he was a prisoner, was badly wounded, and could not assist in launching the boat, however he might think proper to ti'eat him. The commanding officer had gone into the house to take some refreshment ; but hearing this abusive behavior of the captain, returned immediately, and, in a manner very honorable to himself, told the captain, that the prisoner was a gentleman, had made a brave defense, and was to be treated accordingly. At the same time he informed him, that he must return with his privateer to Bagaduce, (the point on which the British fort stood,) boih on ac- count of the prisoner, and of his own wounded men ; and must therefore embark his own people, and the party, im- mediately. He added further, that his conduct should be represented to General Campbell, as soon as he arrived. The poor captain, thunder-struck with this denunciation, lost his importance in a moment. The men were embark- ed, the stern of the boat was given to the general, and aft(;r they had got on board, the best cabin and the most comfortable tnings which the vessel could afford. The general's arm was now benumbed, rather than painful. The vessel was soon under way ; and a cold northern wind drove her with such violence as seriouslj to incommode General Wadsworth and his fellow-suf ferers. I will now return to the ladies, who were left behind m their desolate house. Not a window in this habitation escaped the destruction. The doors were broken down, and two of the rooms were set on fire. The floors were CAPT URE AND ESCAPE OP GEN. WADSWORTH. 96 ds-enched with blood ; and on one of them lay a brave old so'dier, (through whose arm, near the shoulder johit, had oeen driven the whole charge of a mvsket, consisting of a wad, powder, and ball,) begging for dr^ath, that he might be released from nsisery. To add to the sufferings of these unfortunate ladies, a number of the neighboring in- habitaiits having heard of the disaster, flacked in and filled the house. Here they did nothing but gn-ze about with an die curiosit}^, or make useless, numerous, aid very trouble- some inquiries. Scarcely any thing couifi be more weari- some, or more provoking. At length the ladies assumed resolution enough to reprove them with aome severity '^ and thus restored them from the stupor, prodnced by these novel and disastrous events, to thought, feelmg, and exer- tion. As soon as they had fairly recovered themselves, they very cordially and kindly united their efforts to render the best offices in their power. The next morning the} repaired the doors and windows, cleansed the floors, dress ed the wounded man in the best manner in their powei and placed the family in as comfortable circumstances Or' the case would admit. "You will easily beheve, that the solicitude of both Gene ral Wadsworth and the ladies, particularly Mrs. Wads- worth, was extreme. What an affectionate wife must feel for a husband, situated as he was, nothing but the expe- rience of such a wife, in such circumstances, could enable even the female heart to realize. To all his other dis- tresses was added, in the mind of the general, the most excruciating anxiety respecting his little son, a boy of five years old. This child, and a sister younger than himself, slept with a maid in the bed-room, directly in the range oi the enemies' first discharge into the kitchen. As the gene • ral was leaving the door, after he had been made a pri» soner, the maid came to it with the younger child ; but he could not recollect that he had seen his son after the onset. This, he thought, could scarcely have happened, unless the child had been killed. Near the close of the day, the privateer approached the place of her destination. The signal of success was made ; the capture of General Wadsworth was announced ; and the shore thronged with spectators, to see the man, who 96 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. through the preceding year, had disappointed all the d*^ signs of the British in this quarter. They were composed of Britons, and American refugees, of every class. David has often deprecated, in the most pathetic manner, the triumph of his enemies. General Wadsworth was now furnished with an opportunity of realizing the import of the language, and entering deeply into the feelings of the Psalmist. The general left the privateer amid the loud shouts cj -he rabble which covered the shore, and was conduciod to the house of a very respectable refugee, until a report concerning the success of the expedition should be made to General Campbell, the commandant of the post, and his orders should be received. A guard soon came, with orders to bring the prisoner to the guard-room, within the fort, which was about half a mile from the landing. A guard, even of an enemy, was to him a very desirable accompaniment at the present time ; for among those who were around him, there were many persons from whom, in these circumstances, he had nothing to expect but abuse. When he arrived at the fort he was conducted into the officer's guard-room, ana was treated with politeness. Soon after. General Camp- bell sent a messenger to General Wadsworth, with his compliments, informing him that hk situation should be made as comfortable as it could be, and that a surgeon should attend him immediately, to dress his wouhd. The surgeon soon came, and upon examination found the joint of the elbow uninjured, and pronounced the wound to be free from danger, if the artery was unhurt. This, he said could not be determined until a suppuration had taken place After the wound had been dressed, and supper served, General Wadsworth retired to rest. In the morning the commandant sent an invitation to him to breakfast with him, and at table paid him very handsome compliments on the defense which he had made, observing, however, that he had exposed himself in a degree not perfectly justifiable. His guest replied, that from the manner of the attack he had no reason to suspect any design of taking him alive ; and that he intended, therefore, to sell his life as dearly as possible. " These things," said General Campbell, " are CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OF GEN^ 'WADSWORTH. 97 very natural to gentlemen of our profession. But, sir, I understand that the captain of the privateer treated you very ill. I shall see that matter set right." He ttien in- formed his guest that a room in the officers' barracks, with- in the fort, was prepared for him ; and that he should send his orderly sergeant, daily, to attend him to breakfast and dinner at his table, where a seat would be reserved for him, whenever he chose to accept of it. This polite proffei v\ as followed by other observations of the same general nature ; after which. General Wadsworth withdrew to his quarters. He was now alone. He was a prisoner. The ardor of enterprise was over. He had n:> object to engage his attention ; no plan to pursue ; no motive to excite an effort, or even , to rouse a vigorous thought. The calm, sluggish course, became absolutely dead wi, 'n contrasted by his mind with the storm of war which had just passed over. General Campbell, probably foreseeing that such must be his prisoner's situation, sent him, in the course of the fore- noon, several books of amusement ; and then calling upon him in person, endeavored, by cheerful conversation, to make the time pass agreeably. Not long after, the officers of the party came in to inquire concerning his situation ; and, while they were present, ap- peared the redoubtable captain of the privateer. He told General Wadsworth, that he called to ask pardon for what had fallen from him when in a passion ; that it was not in his nature to treat a gentleman prisoner ill ; that the unex- pected disappointment of his cruise had thrown him off his guard ; and that he hoped that this would be deemed a suffi- cient apology. General Wadsworth accepted it, and his visitors withdrew. Neither books nor company, however, could prevent the forenoon from being tedious and long. " Remembrance," in spite of amusement, would " awake with all her busy train." Anticipation, sometimes her very restless and intrusive companion, would present meiancholy pictures, and whisper prophecies of suffering and sorrow. About four o'clock, P. M. the orderly sergeant, presenting the compliments of the commandant, summoned General Wadsworth to dinner. He accepted the invitation, notwith- standing his sufferings, and particularly as he had a wish to 9 98 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. sec the guests. They were numerous, and consisted of all the principal officers of the garrison. Their conversation was evidently guarded, and particularly polite to the stran- ger. His arm, however, began to be painful ; and, having satisfied his curiosity, he respectfully withdrew^. The tirst object which now seriously engaged his atten (ion, was to obtain some knowledge concerning the situa- tion of his wife and family, and to communicate his own to them. For this purpose he wrote, the next murning, a billet to the commandant, requesting that a flag of truce might be sent to a militia officer in Camden, a town on the southwestern skirt of Penobscot Bay, not far distant from Bagaduce, with a letter to the governor of Massachusetts, and another to Mrs. Wadsworth. The request was im- mediately granted, on the condition that the letter to the governor should be inspected. . To this General Wads- worth made no objection. The letter contained nothing but an account of his own situation, a request that an ex- change might be speedily effected in his favor, and an exhibition of the obliging manner in which he had been treated since he had been made a prisoner. The letter was perfectly acceptable to the British commander. The flag was given to Lieutenant Stockton, the officer by whom General Wadsworth had been taken prisoner. As soon as the weather permitted, he set out for Camden in a boat ; and within a fortnight from the disastrous night mentioned above, returned with a letter from Mrs. Wads- worth. This letter, to his great joy, informed him that his wife and family were in more comfortable circumstances than he had been prepared to imagine, and particularl}^ that his son was alive. The child had slept through the whole of that dreadful night, and knew nothing of the family suf ferings until the next morning. This fortnight had been a painful one to General Wads worth. The increasing inflammation of his wound had confined him entirely to his room ; and the sudden transi- tion from domestic happiness to a gloomy solitude, and from liberty to a prison, admitted of few consolations. General Campbell continued his attention to him for some time. About half the officers in the' garrison called upon him as often as propriety permitted. Their conversation. CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OP GEN. WADSWORTH. 99 ti\ which political discussions were carefully avoided, was uiientionally made as agreeable to him as might be. They also sent him in succession a variety of entertaining books. Upon the whole, the connection formed between him and them, became not only pleasant, but interesting. At the end of five weeks his wound was so far healed, that he was able to go abroad. He then sent to General Campbell a note, requesting the customary privilege of a parole. The request was not granted. The reasons as- signed were, that it would be unsafe for General Wads- worth to expose himself to the hostility of the refugees, some of whom were his bitter enemies ; that the garrison might be endangered by the inspection of a military man ; and particularly, that General Campbell had reported his situation to the commanding officer at New York, and must therefore receive his directions, before he made any alterations in the circumstances of the prisoner. These reasons had weight, and General Wadsworth acquiesced. At the same time he was permitted to take the air in plea- sant Vi^eather, by walking some time, every convenient day, on the parade within the fort, under the care of the officer of the guard. In these walks he was attended by two sentinels, and accompanied by some of the officers of the garrison. These little excursions were very favorable, both to his health and spirits. Upon the whole, to use his own language, his confinement became tolerable. In about two months, when the mild season was ap preaching, and began to relax the chains of winter, Mrs. Wadsworth and Miss Fenno, under the protection of a passport from General Campbell, arrived at Bagaduce, and were conducted, with much civility, to his quarters. General Campbell, and many of his officers, cheerfully contribuled their efforts to render the visit agreeable to all concerned. It continued ten days. In the mean time, an answer, or rather orders, had arrived from the command- ing general at New York. This Gen. Wadsworth argued from the change of countenance in some of the officers. The import of the orders was intentionally concealed from Mrs. W. and Miss F. But, Miss F. had accidentally learn- ed their nature by a hint, which fell from an officer occa- sionally at the general's quarters, and indicated that ho 100 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. was not to be exchanged, but to be sent either to New York, or Hahfax, or some other place in the British do- minions. This information she carefully concealed until the moment of her departure ; when, to prevent Mrs. W. from suspecting her design, she barely said, with a signifi- cant air, " General Wadsworth, take care of yourself." The weather being fine, the ladies re-embarked, and, without any serious misfortune, landed the second day at Camden. Soon after the departure of the ladies, General Wads- worth was informed that a parole could not be given to him, because some of the refugees had communicated un- favorable information concerning him to the commander- m-chief at New York. From this time. General Campbell withheld his civilities. Other officers in the garrison, how- ever, visited him daily, treated him with polite attention, and beguiled by various amusements the tedious hours ot his captivity. He learned from the servants who attended him, that he was not to be exchanged, but sent to England, as a rebel of too much consequence to be safely trusted with his liberty. Not long afterwards, about the middle of April, Major Benjamin Burton, an agreeable, brave, and worthy man, who had served under General Wadsworth the preceding summer, was taken, on his passage from Boston to St. George's river, the place of his residence, brought to the fort of Bagaduce, and lodged in the same room with Gene- ral Wadsworth. Burton confirmed the report of the ser- vants. He had learned from a source which he justly regarded as authentic, that both himself and the general were to be sent, immediately after the return of a priva- teer, now out upon a cruise,- either to New York or Hali- fax, and thence to England. There they were to remain prisoners until the close of the war, and were to be treated afterwards as circumstances should direct. This intelli gence, thus confirmed, explained at once the monitory caution of Miss Fenno, and perfectly exhibited to General Wadsworth the importance of tailing care of himself. The gentlemen were not long in determining that they would not cross the Atlantic as prisoners. They resolved that they would effect their escape or perish in the attempt CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OF OEN. 'WADSWORTH. 101 When an enterprise, bordering on desperation, is resolute- ly undertaken, the means of accc/rnplishing it are rarely wanted. It must, however, be admitted, that scarcely any cir- cumstances could promise less than theirs. They were confined in a grated room, in the officers' barracks, within the fort. The walls of this fortress, exclusive of the depth of the ditch surrounding it, were twenty feet high, with fraising on the top and chevaux-de-frise at the bottom. Two sentinels were always in the entry, and their door, the upper part of which was a window sash, might be opened by these watchmen whenever they thought proper, and was actually opened at seasons of peculiar darkness and Filence. At the exterior doors of the entries, sentinels were also stationed, as were others in the body of the fort, and at the quarters of General Campbell. At the guard house a strong guard was daily mounted. Several senti- nels were daily stationed on the walls of the fort, and a complete line occupied them by night. Without the ditch, glacis, and abatis, another complete set of soldiers patrolled through the night also. The gate of the fort was shut at sunset, and a picket guard was placed on, or near, the isthmus leading from the fort to the main land. Bagaduce, on the middle of which the fort stands, is a peninsula, about a mile and a half in length, and a mile in breadth, washed by Penobscot Bay on the south, Bagaduce river on the east, on the northwest by a broad cove, and throughout the remainder of the circle by the bay and river of Penobscot. A sandy beach, however, connects it with the main land on the western side. From these facts, the difficulties of making an escape may be imper- fectly imagined. Indeed, nothing but the melancholy prospect of a deplorable captivity, in the hands of an enemy, exasperated by a long and tedious war, carried on against those who were deemed rebels, could have induced the prisoners to take this resolution. Not long after, a cartel arrived from Boston, bringmg letters from the governor and council to Gen. Wadsworth, with a proposal for his exchange, and a sum of money, &c., for his use. These were carefully delivered to him ; but the exchange being, as General Campbell said, not 9* !02 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. authorized, he refused fo liberate the prisoners. This de- termination they had expected. Several plans wei'e proposed by the gentlemen, for their escape, and successively rejected. At length they resolved on the following. The room in which they were confined was ceiled with boards. One of these they determined to cut off, so as to make a hole sufficiently large for a man to go through. After having passed through this hole, they pro- posed to creep along one of the joists, under which these boards were nailed, and thus to pass over the officers' rooms, bordering on it, until they should come to the next, or middle entry, and then to lower themselves down into this entry, by a blanket which they proposed to carry with them. If they should be discovered, they proposed to act the character of officers, belonging to the garrison, intoxi- cated. These being objects to which the sentinels were familiarized, they hoped in this disguise to escape detec- tion. If they should not be discovered, the passage to the walls of the fort was easy. Thence they intended to leap into the ditch, and, if they escaped without serious injury from the fall, to make the best of their way to the cove, on the surface of whose w-ater they meant to leave their hats floating, (if they should be closely pur- sued,) to attract the fire of the enemy, while they were softly and silently making their escape. Such was their original plan. Accordingly, after the prisoners had been seen by the sentinel, looking through the glass of the door, to have gone to bed. Gen. W. got up, the room being dark, and, standing in a chair, attempted lo cut with his knife the intended opening ; but he found the attempt useless and iiazardous. It was useless, be- cause the labor was too great to be accomplished with the necessary expedition. It was hazardous, because the noise made by the strokes of the knife, could not fail, amid the profound silence, of being heard by the sentinel, and be- cause the next morning must bring an unpleasant detec tion. This part of the design was therefore given up. The next day, a soldier, who was their barber, was requested to procure a large gimlet, and bring it with Aim when he came the next time tp dress General Wads- worth. This he promised and performed, without a sus CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OP GEN. -WADSWORTH. 103 picion that it was intended for any thing more than amuse- ment He received a dollar for Uiis piece of civility, and was sufficiently careful not to disclose a secret which might create trouble for himself. The prisoners waited with anxiety for the arrival of the succeeding night. To their surprise, the noise made by the gimlet was such as to alarm their apprehensions, and in- duce them again to desist. They were, however, not dis- couraged, but determined to make the experiment again during the day, when they hoped the noise would either not be heard at all, or would attract no notice. The eyes of the sentinels were now to be eluded, for the operation must in this case be performed at times when they might very naturally be employed in inspecting the room. It was necessary, also, to escape the observation of their ser- vants, who often came in without any warning, and that of the officers, who were accustomed to visit them at al- most all times of the day. But on these difficulties their persevering minds dwelt, only for the purpose of over- coming them. The two sentinels, who guarded the pri- soners, commonly v*^alked through the entry, one after the other, from the front of the building to the rear. This distance was exactly the breadthof two rooms. After they had begun their walk, the prisoners watched them with attention until they acquired a complete comprehension of the length of the intervals between the moments at which the sentinels successively passed their door. The prison- ers then began to walk within their room, at the same pace with that of their watchmen, the sound of their feet being mutually heard, and all passing by the glass door the same way, at the same time. The prisoners in this manner took two turns across the room, while a sentinel took one through the entry. This difference of time gave them all the opportunities which they enjoyed for using their gimlet. General Wadsworth, being of the middle stature, could, while standing on the floor, only reach the ceiling with the ends of his fingers. But Major Burton was very tall, and could reach it conveniently, so as to use the gimlet with- out the aid of a chair. This was a very fortunate circum- stance, as it saved appearances, and not improbably pre- 104 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. vented the discovery to which they were exposed from so many sources. Accordingly, whilst the garrison was under aims on the parade, and their servants were purposely sent away on errands, the gentlemen began their walk, and passed by the glass door with the sentinels. General Wadsworth then walked on ; but Major Burton, stopping short in the proper spot, perforated the ceiling with his gimlet, in sufficient season to join General Wadsworth on his return. Again they passed the door and returned, as if by mere accident, when the ceiling was in the same manner perforated again.. This process was repeated un- til a sufficient number of holes were bored. The inter- stices in the mean time were cut through with a pen-knife ; the wounds in the ceihng, which were small, being care- fully covered with a paste of chewed bread, almost of the same color with that of the board. The dust made by the gimlet was also carefully swept from the floor. In this manner they completely avoided suspicion, either from the sentinels, the servants, or the gentlemen by whom they were visited. In the course of three weeks a board was entirely cut asunder, except a small part at each corner, which was left for the purpose of holding the severed piece in its proper place, lest some accident should open the pas- sage prematurely. During all this time the prisoners had watched every thing which related to the return of the privateer in wiiich they were to be embarked. They had, also, made evtry unsuspicious inquiry in their power, while occasionally conversing with their visitors, and with the servants, con- cei-ning the exterior part of the fort, the ditch, the position of the chevaux-de-frise, the fraising, the posting of the outer sentinels and picket-guai'd. The scraps of information which were obtained in this cautious manner. Genera Wadsworth, who was tolerably well acquainted with tho place, was able to put together in such a manner as to form a complete view of the whole ground, to fix with pre- cision the place whce they should attempt to cross the wall, where, if separated by accident, they should meet again, and to determine on several other objects of the same general nature. Major Burton, whose first acquain- tance with Bagaduce commenced when he was landed as a CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OF GEN. WADSWORTH. 105 prisoner, was less able to form correct views concerning these subjects, and labored, therefore, under disadvantages which might prove serious. The privateer was now daily expected. It is hardly necessary to observe, that the prisoners regarded the mo- ment of her approach with extreme anxiety. They wished for a dark and boisterous night, to conceal their attempt, and to escape from the observation of their guard, but de- grmined that if such an opportunity should not be fur- 1 ished before the return of the privateer, to seize the best time which should occur. A part of the meat supplied for their daily meals, they laid up and dried, and preserved the crust of their bread, to sustain them on their projected ex- cursion. They also made each a large skewer of strong jvood, with which they intended to fasten the corner of a iarge bed-blanket to one of the stakes in the fraisingon the lop of the wall, in order to let themselves down more easily into the ditch. . When their preparations were finished, a whole week elapsed without a single favorable night. Their anxiety became intense. The weather became warm, and the butter which had been accidentally attached to some of the bread employed as paste to cover the holes in the ceil- ing, spread along the neighboring parts of the board, and discolored them to a considerable extent. This fact alarmed them not a little, particularly when their visitors were now and then gaziiig around the room in which thev were confined. Nor were their apprehensions at all less- ened by several incidental expressions of some British offi- cers, which, to the jealous minds of the prisoners, seemed to indicate, that their design was discovered. On the afternoon of June 18th, the sky was overcast. At the close of the evening, thick clouds from the south brought on an unusual darkness. The lightning began to blaze with intense splendor, and speedily became almost incessant. About eleven o'clock the flashes ceased. The prisoners sat up till this time, apparently playing at cards, but really waiting for the return of absolute darkness. Suddenly rain began to descend in torrents. The dark- ness was profound. The propitious moment for whjch they had so long waited with extreme solicitude, had, as EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. they believed, finally come, and more advantageously than could have been reasonably expected. They, therelbre went immediately to bed, while the sentinel was looking through the glass door, and extinguished their candles. They then imniediateiy rose and dressed tiietnselves. General Wadsworth, staiidiiig in a chair, aUempted to cut the coi'ner of the board which had been left to prevent tiie severed piece from falling, but found that he had made a slow progress. J^Iajor Burton then took the knife, and within somewhat less than an hour completed the intended opening. The noise attending this operation was consid erable, but was drowned by the rain upon the roof. Bur ton ascended first, and being a large man, forced his wa\ through the hole with difficulty. By agreement, he was to proceed along the joists till he reached the middle en- try, where he was to wait for his companion. The fowls, which roosted above these rooms, gave notice of his passage by their cackhng, but it was unheeded, and per- haps unheard, by the sentinel. As soon as this noise ceased. General Wadsworth put his blanket through the hole, fastened it with a skewer, and attempted with this aid to make his way through the passage, standing in a chair below. But he found his arm weaker ana of less service than he had expected. He did not accom plish his design without extreme difficulty. But the ur- gency of the case reanimated his mind, invigorated his hmbs, and enabled him at length to overcome every ob- stacle. The auspicious rain, in the mean time, roaring incessantly on the roof of the building, entirely concealed the noise which he made during this part of his enterprise, and which in a common season must certainly have be- trayed him. When the general had reached the middle entry, he could not find his companion. After searching for him several minutes in vain, he perceived the air blowing through the door of the entry, and concluded that Major Burton had already gone out and left the door ojjen. He therefore gave over the seacch, and proceeded to take care of himself. After passing through the door, he felt his way along the eastern side, the northern end, and a part of the western side of the building, walking directly under CAPTURE ABTD ESCAPE OP GEN. WADSWORTH. 107 the sheet of water which poured from the roof, that he might avoid impinging against any person accidently in his way, a misfortune to which he was entirely exposed by the extreme darkness of the night. After he had reached the western side of the building, he made his way towards the neighboring wall of the furt> and attempted to climb the bank ; but the ascent being steep, and the sand giving way, he found it impossible to reach the top. He then felt out an oblique path and as- cended to the top, as from his window he had observed the soldiers do when they went out to man the wall. Af- ter he had gained the top, he proceeded to the spot on the north bastion, where Burton and himself had agreed to cross the wall, if no accident should intervene. When he had arrived at this place, and was endeavoring to discover the sentry-boxes, that he might creep between them across the top of the wall, the guard-house door on the opposite side of the fort was thrown open, and the sergeant of the guard called, " Relief, turn out." Instantly there was a scrambling on the gorge of the bastion, opposite to that where he now was. This scrambling he knew must be made'^by Burton. The rain, in the mean time, kept the sentinels within their boxes, and made such a noise on thern, that they could not hear that which was made by the prisoners. In this critical moment, no time was to be lost. The relief-guard was approaching. General Wads- worth made all haste, therefore, to get himself, with his heavy blanket, across the parapet, upon the fraising, which was on the exterior margin of the wall, a" measure indis- pensable to prevent the relief from treading on him, as they came round on the top of the wall ; and he barely effected it during the time in which the relief was shiftirig sentinels. At the same time, he fastened with the skewer, the corner of his blanket round a picket of the fraising, so that it might hang at the greatest length beneath him. After the relief had passed on, the general, with great dif- ficulty, arising particularly from the lameness of his arm, slid with his feet fjremost off" the ends of the pickets of the fiaising, clinging with his arms and hands to the ends, thus oringing himself underneath the pickets, so as to get hold of the blanket hanging below. Then he let himself down 108 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTfRES. by the blanket until he reached the corner nearest to the ground. From this he dropped without injury on tho berrne. Leaving his blanket suspended from the fraising, he crept into the chevaux-de-frise nearest to the spot where he had descended, and moved softly along to the next an- gle. Here he remained without noise or motion, until the relief having gone round the walls and out of the gate to relieve the sentinels without the abatis, should have passed by. As soon as he had heard them pass, and before the sentinels had become accustomed to noise around them, he crept softly down into the ditch, went out at the water- course between the sentry-boxes, and descended the de- clivity of the hill, on which the fort stood, into the open field. Finding himself fairly without the line of sentries, and perceiving no evidence that he had been discovered, he could scarcely persuade himself that the whole adven- ture was not a dream, from which he might soon awake, and find himself still in prison. Both the rain and the darkness continued. He groped his way, therefore, among rocks, stumps, and brush, very , leisurely, to an old guard -house on the shore of the back cove. This building had been agreed upon between the prisoners as their place of rendezvous, if any accident should separate them. After searching and wailing for his companion half an hour in vain, he proceeded onward to the cove. The time was happily that of low water. Here he drew off his shoes and stockings, took his hat from the skirt of his coat, to which hitherto it had been pinned, girded. up his clothes, and began to cross the water, which was about a mile in breadth. Fortunately, he found it no where more than three feet in depth. Having safely arrived at the opposite shore, and put on his stock- ings and shoes, he found the rain beginning to abate, and the sky becoming less dark. Still he saw nothing of his iompanion. It was now about two o'clock in the morning. General vVadsworth had left the fort a mile and a half behind him, and had perceived no noise which indicated that the enemy iiad discovered his escape. His own proper course now lay, for about a mile, up a very gently sloping acchvity, on the summit of which was a road, formerly cut, under his CAPTDRE AND EScJAPE OF GEN. WADSWORTH. 109 liirection, for the purpose of moving heavy cannon. The whole ascent v^^as overspread with trees blown driwn by the wind, and to gain the summit cost him the labor of at least an hour. At length he reached the road, but, after keeping it about half a mile, determined to betake himself to the woods, and make his way through them to the river Here the day dawned, and the rain abated. Here, also he heard the reveille beat at the fort. He reached th? eastern shore of the Penobscot, just below the lower nar- rows, at sun-rise, and found a small canoe at the very spol where he first came to the river. But he was afraid to cross it in this place, lest the inhabitants on the opposite shore, through fear of the enemy or hostility to Am, shoula carry him back to the fort ; or lest their kindness, if they should be disposed to befriend him, should prove their ruin. He, therefore, made the best of his way up the river, at the foot of the bank, and kept as near as he could to the water's edge, that the flood tide, which was now running, might cover his steps, and prevent his course from being pursued by blood-hounds kept at the fort. In this manner, also, he escaped the notice of the inhabitants living on the eastern bank of the river. About seven o'clock in the morning the sun began to shine, and the sky became clear. At this time he had reached a place just below the upper narrows, seven milei from the fort." Here it was necessary for him to cross the river. At a small distance he perceived a salmon nel stretched from a point thickly covered with bushes, and a canoe lying on the shore. He therefore determined, aftei having cut a stout club, to lie by in the thicket, in order to rest himself, dry his clothes, and discover the persons wha should come to take fish from the net, that he might decide on the safety or danger of making himself known. In this situation he had spent near an hour, and made considera- ble progress in drying his clothes — not, however, without frequently looking down the river to see whether his ene- mies were pursuing him — when, to his unspeakable joy, he saw his friend Burton advancing towards him in the track which he had himself taken. The meeting was mutually rapturous, and the more so, as each believed the other to have been lost. 10 110 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. Major Burton, after having passed through the; hole in tlie ceiling, made his way directly into the second entry without inierruj)tion. As he had been able to escai)e from the ceiling only by the assistance of General Wadsworth, he concluded, early, that his friend would be unable to make his way through the same passage, and, rationally deter- mining it to be better that one should regain his liberty than that both should be confined in a British jail, made no stop to learn what had become of his companion. Passing out of the eastern door, (the same which Gen, Wadsworth selected,) he entered the area of the fort, taking the most watchful care to avoid the sentry-boxes. The night was so intensely dark, that this was a matter of no small diffi- culty. Fortunately, however, he avoided them all, and steered his course, providentially, to the northeastern cur- tain. At the moment of his arrival, the door of the guard- house was thrown open, and the relief ordered to turn out. Burton heard the orders indistinctly, and supposed that himself or General Wadsworth (if he had been able to make his way out of the barrack) was discovered. He leaped, therefore, from the wall, and fell into the arms of a chevaux-de-frise, containing only four sets of pickets. Had there been six, as is sometimes the case, he must have fallen upon the points of some of them, and been killed outright. Perceiving that he was not injured by the fall, he flung himself into the ditch, and, passing through the abatis, escaped into the open ground. As he had no doubt that either himself or General Wadsworth was discovered, and knew that in either case he should be closely pursued, he used the utmost expedition. It had been agreed by the prisoners, that if they should get out of the fort, and in this enterprise be separated from each other, they should direct their course by the wind. Unfortunately, the gale, which in the afternoon and early part of the evening had blown from the south, shifted, without being observed by Burton, to the east. Of the region round about him, except so far as General Wads worth had described it to him, he was absolutely ignorant In these unfortunate circumstances, instead of taking the direction which he had intended, he pointed his course towards a picket guard, kept near the isthmus, and came CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OF Gx5N. •WADSWORTH, 111 almost upon a senunel before he discovered his danger. Happiiy, liowever, he perceived a man at a small distance in motion, and dropped sotily upon the ground.* The movements of the man soon convinced Burton that he w^as a sentinel, and that he belonged to the jncket. By various means the two friends had made themselves acquainted with the whole routine of the duty performed by the garrison. Burton, therefore, from these circumstances, discerned in a moment where he was, and determined to avail himself of the discovery. Accordingly, whenever the sentinel moved from him, he softly withdrew, and at length got clear of his disagreeable neighbor. He then entered the water on the side of the isthmus next to the river, with the hope of being able t#advance in it so far above the picket as to land again undiscovered. The undertaking proved very hazardous, as well as very difficult. It was the time of low water. The rocks wei'e numerou^sin his course, and the river between them was deep. A great quantity of sea-weed also encumbered his progress. He swam, and climbed, and waded, alternately, for the space of an hour ; and having made in this manner a circuit, which, though small, he thought would be sufficient to avoid the guard, betook himself to the shore. Here, chilled with his long continued cold bathing, and excessively wearied by exer- tion, he began his course through the forest, directing him- self as well as he could towards the path which had been taken by General Wadsworth. After walking several miles through the same obstructions which had so much embarrassed his friend, he reached it, and without any further trouble rejoined the general. After their mutual congratulations, the two friends, as they saw no persons appear, went down to the canoe, and, finding in it a suit of oars, pushed it into the water. Burton informed General Wadsworth that a party of the enemy was in pursuit of them, and that their barge would soon come round the point below, and therefore proposed, that instead of crossing the river directly, they should take * Major Burton dropped a glove in this spot, which, being found in the morning, discovered, thus far, the course v/hich he had pursued in making his escape. 112 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. an oblique course, by which they might avoid being dis- covered. Not long after, the barge came in sight, moving moderately up the river, and distant from them about a mile. At this time the canoe w^as near half a mile from the eastern shore, but being hidden by some bushes on another point, escaped the eyes of their pursuers. Just at the moment, the crew of the barge, having rested for a minute on their oars, tacked, and rowed to the eastern shore, when one of the men went up to a house standing on the bank. The two friends seeing this, plied their oars to the utmost, and when the barge put off again, had it in their power to reach the western shore without any possi ble obstruction. ^H As they approached a landing place, they saw a number of people. To avoid an interview with these strangers, they changed their course, and landed on the north side of a creek, where they were entirely out of their reach, and safe from their suspicion. After they had made fast the canoe, they steered their course directly into the wilderness, leaving the barge ad- vancing up the river, but appearing to have made no dis- covery. The prospect of a final escape was now very hopeful, but as there could be no safety in keeping ihe route along the shore, since they undoubtedly would be way-laid in many places, they determined to take a direct course through the forest, to avoid inhabitants, and to pre- vent a pursuit. Accordingly, they steered towards the head of St. George's river. This they were enabled to do by the aid of a pocket-compass, which Burton had for- tunately retained in his possession. Their pockets supplied them with provisions, homely enough indeed, but such as satisfied hunger, and such as success rendered delightful. Two showers fell upon them in the course of the day, and the heat of the sun was at times intense. Their passage, also, was often incommoded by the usual obstructions of an American forest, fallen trees, marshy grounds, and other inconveniences of the like nature. But with all these difiiculties they traveled twenty-five miles by sunset. At the approach of night they made a .fire with the aid of a flint, which Major Burton had in his pocket, and some spu?ih, a substance formed by a partial decomposition of CAPTURE AND ESCAPE OF GEN. WADSWORTH. 113 the heart of the maple tree, which easily catches, and long retains, even the slightest spark. But as they had no axe, and as they did not commence this business sufficiently early, the wood of which their fire was made, being of a Dad quality, burnt ill, and was extinguished long before the morning arrived. The night was cold, notwithstanding the heat of the preceding day. Both extremes were equally injurious to the travelers, and increased not a little the lameness and soreness of their limbs. General Wadsworth sutfered severely. He had been a long time in confine ment, and had of course been prevented from taking any vigorous exercise. He was also possessed of a consiitu- tion much less firm than that of his companion, and was much less accustomed to the hardships of traveling in a forest. For these reasons they made a slow progress during the morning of the second day. By degrees, how- ever, the general began to recover his strength, and before evening they advanced, though not without much difficulty, twelve or fifteen miles. The sufferings of the preceding night effectually warned them to begin the employment of collecting fuel in better season. They had therefore a comfortable fire. Still the latter part of the night was very cold and distressing. On the third day. Gen. Wadsworth was so lame, and had suffered so much from this uncomfortable pilgrimage, that he was able to make very little progress. After many efforts, he proposed to stop in the wilderness, and wait for such relief as his friend, proceeding onward to the nearest settlements, might be able to bring him. Major Burton cut the matter short by an absolute refusal to leave him behind in circumstances so hazardous. At length they determined to refresh themselves with a little sleep, and then to recommence their progress. This determination was a happy one, for they found their sleep, in the genial warmth of the day, in a high degree restorative and invigo- rating. They were able to travel with more and more ease, and were not a little animated with the conscious- ness that their pilgrimage was drawing to a close. About six P. M.^ they discovered from an eminence the ascent of a smoke, and other signs of human habitations, and soon, to their unspeakable joy, arrived at the place to which they 10* 114 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. nad originally directed their course, the upper settlement* on the river St. George. The inhabitants flocked about them with a joy scarce!} mferior to theirs, and not only hailed them as friends long lost, but as men dropped from the clouds. Their surprise and their affection were equally intense, and their minds labored for modes in which they might exhibit sufficient kindness to their guests. At this friendly place they took horses, and, accompa- nied by all the inhabitants who were able to bear arms, proceeded down the river, within three miles of the house in which General Wadsworth had been taken prisoner. Here they crossed the river, and took up their lodgings on the other side, in a very comfortable inn. Their company had by this time increased to thirty men. Half of this force General Wadsworth gave to his faithful friend, who was then distant only three miles from his own house, a stone fort, anciently erected as a defense against the sav- ages. It was naturally suspected by both gentlemen, that concealed parties of the enemy would lie in wait for them ; and, if possible, carry them back again to their prison. Nor was the suspicion unfounded. Such a party actually way-laid Major Burton, on his return to his family ; and, had he not been accompanied by this body of armed men, he would again have been taken. Finding themselves frustrated, the lurking party seized a trading vessel, lying on St. George's river, and, returning to Bagaduce, carried the first information to the fort concerning the prisoners. As to General Wadsworth, he was now in a settlement where he could not be attacked with any hope of success, unless by a strong detachment of the enemy. He there- fore continued at this hospitable inn until the next day but one. Then, having recovered one of his horses, and re- newed his strength and spirits, he set out for Falmouth, (Portland,) where he hoped to find Mrs. Wadsworth. Du- ring the first day's journey he was accompanied by a small guard. From this time he was safe from the lurking par- ties of the enemy ; and proceeded to Falmouth as his own convenience permitted. Mrs. Wadsworth and Miss Fenno had, however, sailed for Boston before his arrival. On their passage they were STATE PRISON REVOLT. 115 overtaken by a violent storm, and barely escaped ghip- wreck. The vessel put into Portsmouth in distress, and neither of the ladies was acquainted with a single inhabi- tant. They took lodgings, therefore, at an inn. When they had in some measure recovered themselves from the anxiety and distress produced by the perilous situation from which they had just escaped, they found themselves in a new scene of trouble. Mrs. Wadsworth had left all tho specie in her possession with the general, when she risited him at Penobscot ; and during her residence in the district of Maine, the continental bills of credit had losl iheir currency. She was, therefore, without money and without any known friends. After meditating some time vm various expedients to extricate herself and her friend from this embarrassment, not a little perplexing to a female mind, she recollected that she had seen at New Haven, in the year 1770, Mr. Buckminster, tben a tutor in Yale Col- lege, and now one of the ministers of Portsmouth. From this gentleman, the ladies, after having made him acquainted with their circumstances, received every assist- ance which they could wish. When they were ready to proceed on their journey, he furnished a carriage to con- vey them to Newburyport. Here they met with the same friendly offices, and were supplied with the means of pro- ceeding pleasantly to Boston, where the distresses of both Mrs. Wadsworth and the general were speedily terminated by his arrival. STATE PRISON REVOLT A MORE impressive exhibition of moral courage, opposed to the wildest ferocity, under the most appalling circum- stunces, was never seen, than that which was witnessed by the officers of the Massachusetts State Prison, in the re- bellion which occurred several years since. Three con- victs had been sentenced under the rules of the pris'~>n to be whipped in the yard, and by some effort of one of the other prisoners, a door had been opened at midday, com- municating with the great dining hall, and through the 116 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. warden's lodge, with the street. The dining hall is Icng. dark, and damp, from its situation near the surface of the ground, and in this all the prisoners assembled, with clubg and such tools as they could seize in passing through the work-shops. Knives, hammers, and chisels, with every variety of such weapons, were in the hands of the ferocious spirits, who are drawn away from their encroachments on society, forming a congregation of strength, vileness, and talent that can hardly be equalled on earth, even among the famed brigands of Italy. Men of all ages and characters, guilty of every variety of infamous crimes, dressed in the motley and peculiar garb of the institution, and displaying the wild and demoniac appearance that always pertains to imprisoned wretches, were gathered together for the single purpose of preventing the punishment which was to be in- flicted on the morrow, upon their comrades. The warden, the surgeon, and some other officers of the prison, were there at the time, and were alarmed at the consequences likely to ensue from the conflict necessary to restore order. They huddled together and could scarcely be said to consult, as the stoutest among them lost all presence of mind in overwhelming fear. The news rapidly spread through the town, and a subordinate officer of most mild and kind disposition, hurried to the scene, and came calm and collected into the midst of the officers The most equable tempered and the mildest man in thi government, was in this hour of peril the firmest. He instantly despatched a request to Major Wainwright, commander of the marines stationed at the navy yard, for assistance, and declared his purpose to enter into the hall and try the force of firm demeanor and persuasion upon the enraged multitude. All his brethern exclaimed against an attempt so full of hazard ; but in vain. They offered him arms, a sword and pistols, but he refused them, and said, that he had no fear, and in case of danger arms would do him no service ; and alone, with only a little rattan, which was his usual walking stick, he advanced into the hall', to hold parley with the selected, congregated, and en- raged villains of the whole commonwealth. He demanded their purpDse in thus coming together STATE PRISON REVOLT. 117 with arms, in violation of the prison laws. They replied that they were determined to obtain the remission of the punishment of their three comrades. He said it was im- possible ; the rules of the prison must be obeyed, and they must submit. At the hint of submission, they drew a little nearer together, prepared their weapons for service, and, as they were dimly seen in the further end of the hall, by those who observed, from the gratings that opened up to the day, a more appalling sight cannot be conceived, nor one of more moral grandeur, than that of the single man, stand- ing within their grasp and exposed to be torn limb from limb instantly, if a word or look should add to the already intense excitement. That excitement, too, was of a most dangerous kind. It broke not forth in noise and imprecations, but was seen only in the dark looks and the strained nerves, that showed a deep determination. The officer expostulated. He re- minded them of the hopelessness of escape ; that the town was alarmed, and that the government of the prison would submit to nothing but unconditional surrender. He said that all those who would go quietly away, should be for- given for this offence ; but that if every prisoner was killed in the contest, power enough would be obtained to enforce the regulations of the prison. They replied that they expected that some would be killed, that death would be better than such imprisonment, and with that look and tone, which bespeaks an indomi- table purpose, they declared, that not a man should leave the hall alive, till the flogging was remitted. At this period of the discussion, their evil passions seemed to be more inflamed, and one or two offered to destroy the officer, who still stood firmer, and with a more temperate pulse, than did his friends, who saw from above, but could not avert the danger that threatened him. Just at this moment, and in about fifteen minutes from the commencement of the tumult, the officer saw the feet of the marines, whose presence alone he relied on for suc- cour, filing by the small upper lights. Without any appa- rent anxiety he had repeatedly turned his attention to their approach, and now he knew that it was his only time to escape, befoie a conflict for life became, as was expected, 118 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. one of the most dark and dreadful in the world. IIo stepped slowly backwards, still urging them to depart, be- fore the officers were driven to use the last resort of fire- artns. When within three or four feet of the door, it was opened, and closed instantly again, as he sprang through and was so unexpectedly restored to his friends. Major Wainwright was requested to order his men to fire down upon the convicts through the little windows, first with powder and then with ball, till they were willhig to retreat; but he took a wiser as well as a bolder course relying upon the effect which firm determination would have upon men so critically situated. He ordered the door to be again opened, and marched in at the head of twenty or thirty men, who filed through the passage and formed at the end of the hall opposite to the crowd of criminals hud died together at the other. He stated that he was empowered to quell the rebellion, that he wished to avoid shedding blood, but that he should not quit that hall alive, till every convict had returned to his duty. They seemed balancing the strength of the twj parties ; and replied that some of them were ready to die, and only waited for an attack to see who was most power- ful, swearing that they would figiit to the last, unless the flogging was remitted, for they would not submit to any punishment in the prison. Major Wainwright ordered hia marines to load their pieces, and, that they might not be suspected of trifling, each man was made to hold up to view the bullet which he afterwards put in his gun. This only caused a growl of determination, and no one blenched or seemed disposed to shrink from the foremost exposure. They knew that their number would enable them to bear down and destroy the handful of marines after the first discharge, and before their pieces could be reloaded. Again they were ordered to retire ; but they answered with more ferocity than ever. The marines were ordered to take their aim so as to be sure to kill as many as possible — their guns were presented — but not a prisoner stirred, except to grasp more firmly his weapon. Still desirous to avoid such a tremendous slaughter as must have followed the discharge of a single gun, Major Wainwright advanced a step or two, and spoke even more STATE PRISOM REVOLT. 121 firmly than before, urging them to depart. Again, and wnile looking directly into tiie muzzles of the guns, which they had seeri loaded with ball, they declared their inten- tion *' to fight it out." This intrepid otiicer then took out his watch, and told his men to hold their pieces aimed at the convicts, but not fire till they had orders ; then turning to the prisoners he said, ''you must leave this hall — I give you three minutes to decide — if at the end of that time a man remains, he shall be shot dead." No situation of greater interest than this can be con- ceived. At one end of the hall a fearful multitude of the most desperate and powerful men in creation, waiting foi the assault — at the other, a httle band of disciplined men, waiting with arms presented, and ready, upon the least motion or sign, to begin the carnage — and their tall and imposing commander, holding up his watch to count the lapse of three minutes, given as the reprieve to the lives of numbers. No poet or painter can conceive of a spectacle of more dark and terrible sublimity — no human heart can conceive a situation of more appalling suspense. For two minutes not a person or a muscle was moved, not a sound was heard in the unwonted stillness of the prison, except the labored breathings of the infuriated wretches, as they began to pant, between fear and revenge. At the expiratioii. of two minutes, during which they had faced the ministers of death, with unblenching eyes, two or three of those in the rear and nearest to the further en • trance, went slowly out — a few more followed the exam pie, dropping out quietly and deliberately, and before hall of the last minute had gone, every man was struck by the panic and crowded for an exit ; and the hall was cleared as if by magic. Thus the steady firmness of moral force, and the strong effect of determination, acting deliberately, awed the most savage men, and suppressed a scene of car- nage, which would have instantly followed the least preci- pitancy or exertion of physical force. 122 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. THE SHARK SENTINEL. With my companion, one beautiful afternoon, rambling over the rocky cliffs at the back of the island, (New Pro- vidence, W. I.,) we came to a spot where the stillness and the clear trasparency of the water invited us to bathe. It was not deep. As we stood above, on the promontory, we could see the bottom in every part. Under the head- land, which formed the opposite side of the cove, there was a cavern, to which, as the shore was steep, there was no access but by swimming, and we resolved to explore it. We soon reached its mouth, and were enchanted with its romantic grandeur and wild beauty. It extended, we found, a long way back, and had several natural baths, into all which we successively threw ourselves ; each as they receded further from the mouth of the cavern, being colder than the last. The tide, it was evident, had free ingress, and renewed the water every twelve hours. Here we thoughtlessly amused ourselves for some time. At leno;th the declining sun warned us that it was time to take our departure from the cave, when, at no great distance from us, we saw the back or dorsal fin of a mon- strous shark above the surface of the water, and his whole length visible beneath it. We looked at him and at each other in dismay, hoping that he would soon take his depar- ture, and go in search of other prey ; but the rogue swam to and fro, just like a frigate blockading an enemy's port, and we felt, I suppose, very much as we used to make the French and Dutch feel the last war, at Brest and the Texel. The sentinel paraded before us, about ten or fifteen yards in front of the cave, tack and tack, waiting only to serve one, if not both of us, as we should have served a shrimp or an oyster. We had no intention, however, in this, as in other instances, of " throwing ourselves on the mercy of the court." In vain did w^e look for relief from other quarters ; the promontory above us was inaccessible ; the tide was rising, and the sun touching the clear, blue edge of the horizon. I, being the leader, oretended to a little knowledge in THE SHARK SENTINEL. 123 .chthyology, and told my companion that fish could liear as well as see, and that therefore the less we said the better ; and the sooner we retreated out of his sight, the sooner he would take himself off. This was our only chance, and that a poor one ; for the flow of the water would soon have enabled him to enter the cave and help himself, as he seemed perfectly acquainted with the locale, and knew that we had no mode of retreat, but by the way we came. We drew back out of sight, and I don't know when I ever passed a more unpleasant quarter of an hour A suit in chancery, or even a spring lounge at Newgate? would have been almost a luxury to what I felt when the shades of night began to darken the mouth of our cave, and this infernal monster continued to parade, hke a water- bailiff, before its door. At last, not seeing the shark's fin above the water, I made a sign to C larles, that cost what it might, we must swim for it, for we had notice to quit by the tide ; and if we did not depart, should soon have an execution in the house. We had been careful not to utter a word, and, silently pressing each other by the hand, we slipped into the water ; and, recommending ourselves to Providence, we struck out manfully. I must own I never fell more assured of destruction, not even when I once sw^am through the blood of a poor sailor — while the sharks were eating him — for the sharks then had something to occupy them ; but this one had nothing else to do but to look after us. We had the benefit of his undivided attention. My sensations w^ere indescribably horrible. I may oc casionally write or talk of the circumstance with levity, but w^henever I recall it to mind, I tremble at the bare recollection of the dreadful fate that seemed inevitable. My companion was not so expert a swimmer as I was, so that I distanced him many feet, when I heard him utter a faint cry. I turned round, convinced that the shark had seized him, but it was not so ; my having left him so far behind had increased his terror, and induced him to draw my attention. I returned to him, held him up, and en- couraged him. Without this he would certainly have sunk ; he revived with my help, and we reached the sandy beach in safety, having eluded our enemy, who, when he neither 124 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. saw or heard us, had, as I concluded he would, quitted the spot. Once more on terra firma, we lay gasping for some minutes before we spoke. What my companion's thoughts were, I do not know ; mine were replete with gratitude to God, and renewed vows of amendment ; and I have every reason to think, that although Charles had not so much room for reform as myself, that his feelings were })erfectly in unison with my own. We never afterwards repeated this amusement, though we frequently talked of our escape and laughed at our terrors, yet, on these occasions, our conversation always took a serious turn ; and, upon the whole, I am convinced that this adventure did us both a vast deal of good. JUSTICE AGAINST LAW. About two years ago, Gen. Houston, in company with two others, left Nashville, (Tenn.,) for Texas. They tra- veled several days, through marshes and over mountains, among Christians as well as savages, without any thing very interesting or marvelous crossing their path. Late one beautiful moonlight evening, they entered d village, a county town in the state of Missouri, where they took lodgings for the night. The news was very soon spread over the town, that Gov. Houston, from Tennessee, had taken lodgings at the hotel, where, in a short time, he was greeted by judge and jury, counsel and client, (the court being in session,) by the accomplished female, as well as the backwoods' rustic, all of whom received the saluta- tions of a gentleman and scholar in the person of Gen. Houston. There was an old man, with his interesting and beautiful daughter, who seemed to claim the attention of the general more than all the other visitors. There was an expression in the old man's look, differing from the rest — he looked a language which said, " can you help me ?" and echo answered from the heaving breast of the daughter, can you help ? The old man, many years ago, had taken up a large JUSTICE AGAINST LA"W. 125 fract of land in that country, on which he settled with his young family, and which, through industry, he had con- verted into a very extensive and profitable plantation, but had, inadvertently omitted to enter it. Some time previous to this event, a knowing one ascertaining that the old man could be ejected, and legally too, set to work, had the farm entered in his own name, got a writ of ejectment, had it served, and in an hour the old man and his family were turned out of " house and home," almost pennyless. The old man entered suit in the court for the recovery of his lost farm, but having no money, he had no friends ! (how true.) The general listened to his tale of woe, and inti- mated that he would help him on the morrow, as on that day the case would be decided. It was a delightful morning ; the sun shone cheeriiigly, but the old man scarcely felt his influence. Trut, he thought a little light had broken in on the gloom of his mind — perhaps he may come to my help ; but, alas I I have no money, and counsel do not often labor for naught. During these reveries, the court was called — the counsel for the defendant opened an appeal to the jury on the legality of his client's claim to the farm, and labored long and hard in defense of his plea ; it was thought by some that his arguments were incontrovertible. During this time there sat the old man — no friend to console him— the governor was not there — he had not been as good as his inhmation. The counsel was about closing his appeal, and in all probability the decision would go against the plaintiff — hark I a rustling noise is heard — a move is in the crowd — a tall, genteel personage enters. T'le old man lifts his eye and recognizes the governor — he steps for- ward, introduces himself to the court, volunteers for the old man — all eyes were upon him, and when the words, " Gentlemen of the Jury," fell from his lips, the current of opinion began to change ; there was an unction m the words to w^hich the inmates of that house were unaccus- tomed — he proceeded eloquently, feelingly — his words fell on the listeners like the rushing of many waters — the white handkerchiefs of the ladies were soon brought into requisi- tion — the stern jurors were seen to throw away the briny drop— -the judge changed his position frequently — anon, 11* 126 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURE8. the whole house, judge and jury, counsel and client, spec* tators — all — were suffused in tears. He closed his argu- ments, his eloquent and his impressive appeal to the jury — walked out — and the jury, without leaving their box, gave the old man back his farm. HORRID PUNISHMENT. J The following thrilling account of the execution of Robert Francis Damiens, in the winter of 1757, we take from the London Monthly Review of the same year. Damiens had attempted the assassination of King Louis XV., of France, from motives prompted by religious en- thusiasm, and nurtured by the enemies of that prince. After undergoing mechanical torture until the ministers of justice had wrung from him the name of his accom- plices, he was stripped for execution. When stripped, it w^as observed that he surveyed and considered all his body and limbs with attention, and that he looked round with firmness on the vast concourse of spectators. Towards five o'clock he was placed on the scaffold which had been erected in the middle of the enclosed area and was raised about three feet and a half from the ground ■ the length from eight to nine feet, and of about the same breadth. The criminal was instantly tied, and afterwards fastened by iron gyves, which confined him under the arma and above the thighs. The first torment he underwent was that of having his hand burnt in the flame of brim- stone ; the pain of which made him send forth such a ter- rible cry as might be heard a great way off. A moment afterwards he raised his head, and looked earnestly at his hand, without renewing his cries, and wjth- out expressing any passion, or breaking out into any im precation. To this first torment succeeded that of pinching him with red hot pincers, in the arms, thighs, and breasts. At each pinch he was heard to shriek in the same manner as when his hand was burnt. He looked and gazed at each wound, and his cries ceased as soon as the pinchmg HORRID PUNISHMENT. 127 jvas over. They afterwards poured boiling oil, and melt- ed lead and rosin, into every wound, except those of the breast, which produced in all those circumstances the same effect as the two first tortures. The tenor of his articu- lated exclamations, at times, was as follows : " Strengthen me, Lord God ; strengthen me ! — Lord God, have pity on me 1 — O Lord, my God, what do I not suffer ! — Lord God, give me patience !" At length they proceeded to the ligatures of his arms, legs, and thighs, in order to dismember them. This pre- paration was very long and painful, and drew new cries from the sufferer ; but it did not hinder him from viewing and considering himself with a strange and singular curi osity. The horses having been put to the draught, the pulls were repeated for a long time, with frightful cries on the part of the sufferer ; the extension of whose members was incredible, and yet nothing gave signs of the dismem- berment taking place. In spite of the straining efforts of the horses, which were young and vigorous, and, perhaps too much so, being the more restive and unmanageable foi drawing in concert, this last torment had now lasted for more than an hour, without any prospect of its ending The physician and surgeon certified to the commissaries that it was almost impossible to accomplish the dismem berment, if the action of the horses was not aided by cutting the principal sinews, which might, indeed, suffer a length of extention, but not to be separated without aD amputation. Upon this attestation the commissaries sen» an order to the executioner to make such an amputation with regard especially to the night coming on, as it seem ed to them fitting that the execution should be over before the close of the day. In consequence of this order, the sinews of the sufferer were cut at the joints of the arms and thighs. The horses then drew afresh, and, after several pulls, a thigh and arm were seen to sunder from the body. Damiens still looked at this painful separation, and seemed to preserve some sense and knowledge after both thighs and one arm were thus severed from his bo- dy; nor was it till the other arm went away that he expired. As soon as it was certain that there was no life left, the body and scattered limbs were thrown into a fire i28 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. prepared for that purpose near the scaffold, where they were all reduced to ashes. JOE CALL, THE MODERN HERCULES. There are incidents in the life of every individual, how ever insignificant his station may be in society, which, if fairly written out, would be looked upon by the sneering wiseacres of this skeptical age, as little better than sheer fiction. But the true philosopher, with a deeper vision, sees truth stamped upon them, and only wonders at the mysterious Providence who has thus seen fit to weave the beautiful flowers of romance in the dark woof of or- dinary hfe. The life of the late Joseph Call, Esq., of Lewis, in New York, was rife with such incidents, and although it is foreign to our purpose, in the present article, to play the part of biographer to his memory, yet we have thought an idle hour would not be unprofitably spent in rescuing frdm oblivion a few desultory instances in which was displayed the great and almost incredible strength with which he was gifted. Of his early childhood we know but little, except that he was the leader and champion of all the boys in his neighborhood. One incident, however, has been related to us, which — although it does not show our hero in a very favorable light as a scholar — displays that peculiar trait of humor for which he was so remarkable. It seems thai upon a certain occasion, Joe had been guilty of a breach of the rules of school, and accordingly the worthy peda- gogue called him up to administer the requisite correction. Joe, indignant at the idea of being publicly whipped, no sooner made his appearance on the floor, than seizing upon the astonished knight of the birch, as uncle Toby did upon the fly, he incontinently flung him neck and heels out of the window, amidst the tumultuous shouts of his com- panions. As he grew older, his natural joviality of disposition led him to frequent whimsical displays of his physical superi- JOE CALL. 1 IE MODERN HERCULES. 129 ority. At one time, he would lift a barrel of cider to his lips, and after having latisfied his own thirst from the bung-hole, would grave!;' oifer to pass it round to the com- pany. At another, stea 'ng silently behind a teamster's wagon, he would seize 1 old of the wheel, and suddenly bringing the team to a halt, would quietly remark, "A l)reathing spell to your n&frs, neighbor !" At one period of his li'V?, when a teamster himself, he used frequently to find his immense strength of great ser- vice ; for whenever his teaM would happen to get set in a mud-hole, he would crawl mder his vv^agon, and placing his broad shoulders againsi the bottom, would raise the wagon, load and all, gradu? ly up, until his horses were able to drag it f )rth witjiout Uv'Ticulty. A celebrated wrestler froL\^ Albany, having heard of Joe's reputation, once made Iv'm a visit for the express purpose, as he declared, "of giving him a touch of the fancy !" Joe, wiih his usual modesty, disclaimed all knowledge of the exercise, but i.\7on the stranger's press- ing him, finally consented "to ta\e hold." Accordingly, they grappled, the stranger throwir.v^ himself into the most scientific position, whilst Joe, pretending utter ignorance of ail rule, assumed the most carel\\^iS and exposed atti- tudes. They had scarcely got fair i\old, when the stran- ger, placing his foot on Joe's toe, attec>T>ted, with a sudden jerk, to throw him by what is termed t! e " toe lock." But Joe, anticipating his movement, quicdy permitted hin? to, assume the necessary position, and \hen, as he ^tooc* for a moment balancing on Joe's toe, £ 3.vely raised hin? into the air, and danced him about, as ^ mother woulnt they were beset by the enemy every night, and were piishiag Oil. Tiie sufferings of Clarke and Sprague, particularly ol the former, must have been most excruciating. Clarke says he crept on his hands and knees, more than two thirds of the way, having traveled the sixty-five miles in about Uie same number of hours. The force of the Indians could not have been less than three hundred and fifty men. This I judge of from the extent of ground which they must have covered while in ambush. Thomas estimated them at four hundred ; Clarke's estimates vary from six hundred to one thousand ; and Sprague thinks there were from five to eight hundred. The attack was made about 10 o'clock A. M., and con- tinued with little or no intermission, save that after the* first repulsion, until between three and four o'clock P. M The chosen ground of the Indians seemed to be very inju- dicious, being an open pine woods, with very little under- growth, and excepting the grass and p»?inettos, on the right of the road, afforded them no shelter. But they well knew of the small force against which they were to con- tend, and their object in selecting that ground was to mas- sacre the whole party, and not leave one to tell the sad tale of their destruction ; whereas, if they had attacked in a thick and dense country, many would have escaped. Wahoo Sw-amp, the residence of Jumper and his people, was four miles west, and Pilaklakaha, the home of Mican- opy, was four miles east from the massacre ground ; but these towns were deserted immediately succeeding the murder of Charley Amathla. In the following February, an expedition under General Gaines, on their route to attack the hostile Indians at Alpea river, visited the ground occupied by the ill-fated party of Dade. On the morning of the 20th, the appearance of large flocks of vultures but too plainly foretold the ap- proach of the army to the sad spot of slaughter. The ad- vanced guard having passed the battle ground without halting, the general and his staff came upon one of the most appalling and affecting scenes that the human eye ever beheld. A short distance in the rear of the little field work, lay a few broken cartridge boxes, fragments of ia* 138 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. clothing, here and there a shoe or an old straw hat, whica perhaps had been exchanged for a military cap ; then a cart partly burnt, with the oxen still yoked lying dead near it ; a horse had fallen a little to the right, and here also a few bones of the hapless beings lay bleaching in the sun ; while the scene within, and beyond the triangular enclosure, baffles all description. One would involuntarily turn aside from the horrible picture, to shed a tear of sor- row, and " wish that he had nothing known or nothing seen." From the positions in which the bodies of this de- voted little band were found, it was evident that they had been shot down in the faithful execution of their duty ; their bodies were stretched with striking regularity nearly parallel to each other, and it is very doubtful whether the Indians touched them after the battle, except to take some few scalps and to divest the officers of their coats. A short distance further, in the middle of the road, was the advanced guard, about twenty-eight in number, and imme- diately in the rear lay the remains of poor Dade, while a few feet to the right, in the rear, was that of the estimable Captain Fraser. To guard against surprise, our troops had been immediately formed into a quadrangular line, and soon after, a detail of the regulars commenced the pleasing though mournful task, of consigning the remains of their mutilated brethren in arms to the earth. Within the enclosure two large graves were dug, into' which the b(jdies of ninety-eight non-commissioned officers and pri- vates were placed, and outside of the northeast angle of the work, another grave received the bodies of eight offi- cers, at the head of which, the field piece, which had been spiked and concealed by the enemy, but recovered, was planted vertically. The regular troops, formed into two columns and led by the immediate friends of the deceased officers, then moved, with reversed arms, in opposite di rections, three times around the breastwork, while the bauds j)layed the Dead March. ■^f*:^y^. CHAMBER-LAIN AND PAUGUS. 139 CHAMBERLAIN AND PAUGUS. One of the first settlers of New Hampshire was a man i y the name of Chamberlain. He moved from the thick settled towns near the sea-shore, and penetrated into the wilderness of that state, far from any settlement or dwell- ing of the whites. Here he built himself a cabin, and though surrounded by hostile Indians and ravenous beasts of prey, he feared no danger and felt no harm. The roof of his hut was hung about with the flesh of the bear, and he lay at night on the fur of the catamount and panther. He was tall — higher than the tallest Indian — strong — four of them, with their tomahawks, were no match for him with his heavy hatchet. He was swift of foot — he could outrun the moose in fall trot. Artful and cunning, he en- trapped the Indian in his ambush, and surpassed him in traversing the pathless wilds. The Indians passed cau- tiously and harmlessly by the dwelling of Chamberlain ; and a score of them would lie still when they watched in ambush, and suffer him to go on unmolested, lest their rifles might miss his body, and bring him in vengeance upon them ; for he valued them as lightly as did Samson the men of Askelon.* Around the shores of the largest lake in New Hamp- shire, there dwelt, at that time, a powerful tribe of Indians. Their chief was Paugus. He was a savage 'of giant size and strength — swift, cunning — deadly with his rifle and tomahawk, and cruel — vengeful beyond the native ven- geance of the Indians. He was the terror of man, woman, and child, along the frontiers, and even among the smal. cities on the very edge of the sea. Bands of soldiers had often penetrated to the shores oi this lake, to find out the retreat of this terrible savage, and, if possible, to slay or take him prisoner. But he was too cunning, and always eluded their search ; though at one time they came so near that he saw the blaze of his wigwam, as they set it on fire, and the smoke of it curlmg among the tree tops that were then above his head. * See Judges, 'i'\tk chapter and. 19tl» verse 140 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. Often had Chamberlain sought, in the Indian battles he was engaged in, to find out the form of Paugus, to make him the mark of his rifle, or to encounter with his hatchet the tomahawk of this fearful warrior. But they never iiad chanced to meet, although Paugus had learned of his tribe the character and prowess of Chamberlain. A small body of brave men, under the command of Captain Lovell, were on their way through the wilderness, in pursuit of the Indians, and by chance passed near the dwelling of Chamberlain. He saw them, and learned the object of their march, he joined them, and was considered by them all as a great addition to the strength of their de- voted httle band. They traversed the woods, and encoun- tered an overwhelming body of Indians neai Lovell's Pond. This took place in May, 1725, and will long be remembered as one of the most obstinate and hard fought battles in the history of Indian warfare. After the thickest and most desperate of the conflict was over. Chamberlain, weary with fighting — thirsty and faint under the hot sun — had retired to the edge of the pond to drink and to wash out his gun, which had grown so foul with frequent firing that at last he could not make it go off Scarcely had he arrived there, when lo, from the thicket, at a short distance from him, emerged the stately figure of Paugus, covered over with dust and blood, making his way to the water. The warriors at once knew each other. Chamberlain's gun was useless, and he thought of rushing upon Paugus, with his hatchet, before he could load his rifle ; but the Indian's gun was in the same condition with his own, and he had come to the pond to quench his thirst, and hastily scour out his foul rifle. The condition of their guns be- came immediately known to the warriors, and they mutu- ally agreed not to attack each other till they washed them out, and both were ready to begin to load. They slowly and with equal movements, cleansed their guns, and took their stations on the outer border of the beach. " Now, Paugus,'' said Chamberlain, " I'll have you," and with the quickness and steadiness of an old hunter, sprang to loading his rifle. " Na, na," replied Paugus, " me have vou — ^me kill you quick" — and he handled his gun with a THE RESOLUTE LOVER. 143 dexterity that made the bold heart of Chamberlain beat fasi, and he almost raised his eyes to take his last look upon the sun. They rammed their cartridges ; and each at the same instant cast his ramrod upon the sand ; " I'll have you, Paugus," shouted Chamberlain, as he almost resolved to rush upon the savage with the britch of his rifle, lest he should receive his bullet before he could load. The woods across the pond echoed back the sound. Paugus trem- bled as he applied his powder-horn to the priming. Cham- berlain struck his gun britch violently upon the ground — - the rifle ^^ primed herself" — he aimed — and his bullet whistled through the heart of Paugus. He fell, and as he went down, the ball from the mouth of his ascending rifle touched the hair upon the top of Chamberlain's head, and passed off" into the bordering wilderness, without avenging the death of its dreadful master. Chamberlain, after recovering from the shock of such a fearful and imminent encounter, cast a look upon the fallen savage. The paleness of death had come over his cop- per-colored forehead. He seized upon his rifle, bullet- pouch, and powder-horn, left him on the leafy sand, and sought again the lessened ranks of the white men, as they wearily defended themselves against the encircling sav- ages. He shouted to them of the fall of Paugus. The Indians looked about them — the tall figure of their chief was nowheie in sight. In grief and despair they ceased iheir fire, and withdrew into the woods, leaving Chamber- iain, and ihe few who survived the conflict, to retrace their k<6ps to the distant settlement. THE RESOLUTE LOVER. A GREAT reverse of fortune, one of those catastrophes ^hich bankers meet with everyday, precipitated Madame De Pons from the height of a most brilliant position in so- ciety, to the most humble fortune. Events of this nature are so common, and, moreover, so sudden, that it is by no means a rarity, in our times, to receive an invitation to a 144 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. grand party in the Rue de la Paix, and to pay your visit to the prison of St. Pelagie. The splendid salons of Madame de Pons were reduced to one small garret in the Marais, and yet it was too large for the number of those who came to share her bad fortune. In Paris, matters are settled thus : you give parties — it makes you one of the world ; I make a part of this world — you give me pleasure, I give you my company ; when your supper is over, and your wax lights extinguished, we are quits ; for, after all, your party is but a party. In return for your invitation to me, I have the right of com- plaining, if the music at your concert is bad, that I have been your dupe ; if the invitation was to a ball, that it was very tedious. After the death of her husband, who blew out his brains as a compensation to his creditors, Madame de Pons found her circle of acquaintance much reduced. For all that, the Count de Marigny, who had been an old friend of M. de Pons, remained still the friend of his wife. Madame de Pons was a fine woman. M. de Marigny was a man of distinguished appearance ; he was the indis- pensable at every ball ; the most elegant centaur in the Bois de Boulogne ; tied the best neckcloth, and wore the finest diamonds ; in fact, he was a man of the first fashion. As for the rest, nobody could tell where he obtained the means for this luxurious splendor ; nobody knew any thing of his ancestors, nor his origin, nor his property ; yet he lived like a prince, paid his way, had the most polished manners, and was witty. He was adopted into society — and, in Paris, this adoption of a certain part of the world stands in lieu of every thing, fortune, probity, ancestry — because, if you have got none yourself, society will make them for you. Reverse of fortune is the only affliction, the pangs of which, in a vain mind, no philosophy, of whatever kind, can allay. Far from getting weaker, they increase with age ; thus Madame de Pons felt keenly the loss of that society, where she had been almost worshiped. There remained to Madame de Pons an uncle, immensely rich, and without children, and who had brought her up as his THE RESOLUTE LOVER. 145 own; but this uncle, hard-hearted and unrelenting as adversity itself, seemed to consider the misfortune of her nusband a crime in his niece. He forgot that his kindness might dry up her bitter tears, and his egctism, coming to the assistance of his logic, proved to him that misfortune is a crime, and indulgence the accomplice of that crime and that the best way of avoiding all the cares of life, was to have no smile of kindness but for those who were fortu- nate. With such cruel sentiments as these, did the uncle of Madame de Pons reply to the letter which informed him of the miseries which overwhelmed her ; and he made no secret that he would deprive her, by his will, of that part of his fortune destined to the members of a family of which she had proved unworthy. Her self-love thus assailed, her vanity wounded, she had need of all the attentions, all the love, of the count, to con- sole her. This change of fortune, the injustice of her family, were of course the text of their conversation. Another circumstance happened to increase her sorrows. M. de Marigny informed her that it was necessary he should go on a journey to regulate some family affairs. She perceived in his departure a certain constraint, an ab- sence of mind, which led her to suspect it to be a pretext ; and when you are in misfortune, suspicion changes so quickly to certainty, that she could no longer support it- — she fainted. With much difficulty the count persuaded her of his truth, and left her. After a lapse of two months, an attorney called on Ma- dame de Pons, announced to her the death of her uncle, and presented to her a will, by which she was appointed bis sole heiress. What could she tliink ? She was more surprised at this sudden change in her uncle's last disposi- tion of his property, than in the immense change it would make in her fortune. This excellent uncle had made ap for his former faults so well, that she sincerely lament- ed him. A few days after, the Count de Marigny returned to fill the measure of her happiness, which wanted but his presence. During the few first weeks, Madame de Pons' happi- ness appeared complete ; she had gained her position in 13 146 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. society, the man she loved was near her, her house had become the rendezvous of fashion, her vanity and her heart were alike satisfied. But in a few days longer, with that acuteness which a woman always exercises in regard to the conduct of him she loves, she perceived that there was no longer room to doubt that, since his return, the charac- ter of the count was totally changed. She mentioned this to him at first vaguely ; but on© evening, when they were alone, and in that intimacy which allows us more easily to enter into the sorrows of a friend, she pressed him closely on the subject. The count rose from his seat, and taking from the chimney-piece a cup of beautiful porcelain, " What would you say, Amelia, if at one blow I should dash to pieces this elegant vase ?" " I should say that it was a singular instance of folly*" "But if some necessity compelled me to do so?" " Then I should regret nothing which happened to me through you," replied Madame de Pons, with an air of tenderness. "You disarm me, and yet I stand in need of courage." " Come, come, my friend, you want to create som<* diver sion in our tete-a-tete, by that episode after the drais?^ c/ the new school." But just then casting her eyes on the count, who sj»* opposite to her, she saw his lips compressed, his forehe9«' care-worn, his whole body trembling ; she rose up in ter ror, and seizing his hands, exclaimed, " What is the mat ter ? In the name of heaven, conceal nothing from me V The count rose, and recovering his calmness, said " Now I am able to speak ; sit down, Amelia, 1 will tek you all." Pale and breathless with doubt, she sat opposite to the count. M. de Marigny took both her hands in his, and fixing on her a magnetic look, said, " There are but three resources left me, Amelia ;" this last word scarcely escaped his lips, so much were they compressed and trembling. " Oh, how you frightened me !" said Madame de Pons, smiling. " Thi-ee resources ! When you have but one, even then you should not despair." " Listen to mine ! The choice is to blow my brains out, or mai'ry you." THE RESOLUTE LOVER. 147 At this instant, all the love Madame de Pons entertained for. the count vanislied ; and the horrible image of the dreadful end of her first husband interposed between her and him, who, standing erect, looked like the same hideous spectre of misery. She hesitated. She did not yet refuse him ; but the stern regard of the count could not mistake her meaning. " I understand you," said he ; " you force me, then, to ny third and last resource. You have hesitated when I gave you the choice between the preservation of my Ufe and the offer of my hand. At this very hour I place before you the alternative of the loss of your fortune, or this hand to share it with you. Yes, Amelia, either you marry me to-day, or I ruin you to-morrow." " But this fortune," replied Madame de Pons, with terror " I possess from the bounty of my uncle ; it belongs to me, entirely to me. Your mind is wandering, my friend ; tell me, frankly, your situation. If you are in want of money, if any delay tell me ; you should not refuse to your best friend the pleasure of obliging you. What do you require 1" " The whole of your fortune ; and since you wish foi an explanation, listen : — You know, Amelia, that I became acquainted with your uncle when he was here ; he took notice of me, and expressed a wish to see me at his house in Baden, His hard-heartedness to you ; the disdain which had driven you from your family — those regrets at the change in your fortune which caused those tears which you vainly endeavored to conceal from me — all these sor- rows, which it was out of my power to remedy, increased the love I bore towards you ; I could not bear to see you wretched, humiliated, rejected from society. I pretended business of consequence — it was yours. I set off alone — I watched the motions of your uncle, who, I knew, was about to go to the waters of Baden. Three days after my ai rival, he departed for that place. I followed at a distance of two stages. Arrived at an inn, I feigned an illness which the ignorance of the physicians quickly changed into a real malady. I had feigned such an ill- ness, that it was but natural I should put my affairs in order. A notary was called in. I took the name of your 148 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. uncle, made a will in his name, and the testament whioh appointed you sole heiress, was enregistered in the proper lorm. Next day I got better, and went to Baden ; your uncle and I renewed our former acquaintance — we were inseparable. One day, just as dinner was over, after a conversation which I had endeavored to make as animated as possible, I took a pinch of fine Macouha, the excellence of which your uncle much admired. I offered it to him. Jkarcely had he smelt it, when he fell dead on the spot '' "Oh! horror!" " Among people of rank, an accident of this kind is always a fit of apoplexy. Just so was this ; but it was caused by a tremendous and deadly acid, which was con- cealed in the double bottom of my snuff-box. Now, then, Ameha, you know to whom you owe your fortune. But remember, that if I have gone thus far to get it for you, think you that I will stop at any thing to take it from you ? The facts ai'e now before you clearly, the necessity plainly demonstrated. I begin again. Behold, anew, I offer you my hand in exchange for your fortune. Decide, Amelia, or in an hour all Paris shall know how it was obtained " Sshe married him. POE, AND TWO INDIANS. It was about the close of the revolution that a party of six or seven Wyandot Indians crossed over to the south side of the Ohio river, fifty miles below Pittsburg, and m their hostile excursions among the early settlers, killed an old man, v/hom they found alone in one of the houses which they, plundered. The news soon spread among the white people ; seven or eight of whom seized their rifles and pursued the marauders. In this party were two brothers, named Adam and Andrew Poe, strong and active men, and much respected in the settlement. They followed up the chase all night, and in the morning found themselves, as they expected, upon the right track. The Indians could now be easily followed by their traces on the dew. The print of one verv large foot was seen, and it was thus POEj AND TWO INDIANS. 151 known that a famous Indian, of uncommon size and Btrength, must be of the party. The track led to the river. The whites followed it directly, Adam Poe except- ed ; who, fearing that they might be taken by surprise, broke oif from the rest. His intention was to creep along the edge of the bank under cover of the trees and bushes, and to fall upon the savages so suddenly, that he might get them between his own fire and that of his compan- ions. At the point where he suspected they were, he saw the rafts which they were accustomed to push before them when they swam the river, and on which they placed their blankets, tomahawks, and guns. The In- dians themselves he could not see, and was obliged to go partly down the bank to get a shot at them. As he de- scended with his rifle cocked, he discovered two — the celebrated large Indian and a smalle; one — separated from the others, and holding their rifles also cocked in their hands. He took aim at the large one, but his rifle snap- ped, without giving the intended fire. The Indians turn- ed instantly at the sound. Poe was too near them to retreat, and had not time to cock and take aim again. Suddenly he leaped down upon them, and caught the large Indian by the clothes on his breast, and the small one by throwing an arm round his neck : they all fell together, but Poe was uppermost. While he was struggling to keep down the large Indian, the small one, at a word spoken Dy his fellow-savage, slipped his neck out of Poe's embrace, and ran to the raft for a tomahawk. The large Indian, at this moment, threw his arms about Poe's body, and held him fast, that the other might come up and kill him. Poe watched the approach and the descending arm of the small Indian so well, that at the instant of the intended stroke he raised iiis foot, and by a vigorous and skillful blow, knocked the tomahawk from the assailant's hand. At this, the large Indian cried out with an exclamation of contempt foi the small one. The latter, however, caugnt his tomahawk Eigain, and approached more cautiously, waving his arm up and down with mock blows, to deceive Poe as to the stroke which was intended to be real and fatal. Poe, however, was so vigilant and active that he averted the tomahawk fro^ 1 his head, and received it upon his wrist with a consi- 1,3* 152 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. derable wound, deep enough to cripple, but not entirely to destroy the use of his hand. Jn this crisis of peril he made a violent effort, and broke loose from the large Indian. He snatched a rifle, and shot the small one as he ran up a third time with his lifted tomahawk. The large Indian was now on his feet, and grasping Poe by the shoulder and the leg, hurled him in the air, heels over head, upon the shore. Poe instantly rose, and a new and more desperate struggle ensued. The bank was slippery, and they fell into the water, when each strove to drown the other. Their efforts were long and doubtful, each alternately under and half strangled ; until Poe, fortunately, grasped with his unwounded hand the tuft of hair upon the scalp of the Indian, and forced his head into the water. This appeared to be decisive of his fate, for soon he manifested all the symptoms of a drowning man, bewildered in the moment of death. Poe relaxed his hold, and discovered too late the stratagem. The Indian was instantly upon his feet again, and engaged anew in the fierce contest for vic- tory and life. They were naturally carried further into the stream, and the current becoming stronger, bore them beyond their depth. They were now compelled to loosen their hold upon each other, and to swim for mutual safety. Both sought the shore to seize a gun ; but the Indian was the best swimmer, and gained it first. Poe then turned immediately back into the water, to avoid a greater dan- ger — meaning to dive, if possible, to escape the fire. For- tunately for him, the Indian caught up the rifle which had been discharged into the breast of the smaller savage. At this critical juncture, Poe's brother Andrew presented him- self. He had just left the party who had been in pursuit of the other Indians, and who had killed all but one of them at the expense of three of their own lives. He had heard that Adam was in great peril, and alone in a fight with two against him ; for one of the whites had mistaken Adam in the water with his bloody hand for a wounded Indian, and fired a bullet into his shoulder. Adam now cried out to his brother to kill the big Indian on the shore ; but Andrew's gun had been discharged, and was not again loaded. The contest was now between the savage and Andrew. Each labored to load his rifle first. The In- STORY OP A HUNTER. 153 dian, after putting in his powder, and hurrying his motions to force down the ball, drew out his ramrod with such violence as to throw it sonie yards into the water. While he ran to pick it up, Andrew gamed an advantage, as the Indian had still to ram his bullet home. But a hair would have turned the scale ; for the savage was just raising his gun to his eye with unerring aim, when he received the fatal fire of the backwoodsjnan. Andrew then jumped into the river to assist his wounded brother to the shore ; but Adam, thinking more of carrying the big Indian home, as a trophy, than of his own wounds, urged Andrew to go back and prevent the struggling savage from rolling him- self into the current and escaping. Andrew, however, was too solicitous for the fate of Adam to allow him to obey ; and the high-souled Wyandot, jealous of his honor as a warrior, even in death, and knowing well the inten- tion of his white conquerors, succeeded in retaining life and action long enough to reach the current, by which his dead body was swept down beyond the chance of pursuit. STORY OF A HUNTER, The following story comes to us from a friend, who actually heard it related by a person in the manner herein described. About thirty-five years ago I moved into this country, which was then nearly a wilderness ; no settle- ments having been made, excepting in a few places on the borders of the lake. I arrived in the spring of the year, and commenced a clearing on the farm I now occupy. By fall I had built a good log-house, and temporary stables for my cattle — had put in the ground ten acres of wheat, and looked forward to the ensuing year for the reward of my labors. My wife and child were all my family ; neighbors there were none, nearer than five or six miles, so that visiting or amusements were entirely out of the question. You may, therefore, suppose, that on the ap- proach of a long northern winter, I had ample time to gratify my love for hunting, for which I had always a great fondness. Winter had set in early, and all my cares were 154 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. confined to keeping a sufficient stock of wood on hand for fuel, which you may imagine was not difficult, when the trees stood at my door, and taking care of the few cattle of which I was then owner. It was one day, I think in the fore part of December, when, having finished my morning's work, I took down my gun, and told my wife that I would, on my return, please her with the sight of a fat deer. Deer are now very plentiful in this part of the coun- try, but then they were so much more so, that there was little merit or difiiculty in achieving what I had promised. I took my departure about a northwest course from my cabin, which led me directly into the forest. The snow was about a foot deep, and the wind blowing hard from the north, it drifted much in openings ; yet this, I thought, was in my favor, as the noise made among the trees by the wind, prevented the game from hearing my ap- proach in still hunting. But I was mistaken in my calcu- lations ; for I had traveled five or six miles from home, and had not got a shot at a single deer, though I had seen numbers of them ; but they were always on the run, and at too great a distance, and all the trees which I saw show ed that they had scarcely walked during the day. I was then a young hunter, but I have since learned that this animal is always on the move, and generally runs tnroughout winter days, probably from the apprehension of danger from wolves, which follow its scent through the snow. At length I arrived at a large cedar swamp, on the edge of which I was struck by the singular appearance of a large stub, twenty-five or thirty feet high, with its bark off". From its scratched surface, I had no doubt it was chmbed by raccoons or martins, which probably had also a. den in it. From its appearance, I judged it was hollow. The stub at its base might have been seven or eight feet through, but eight or ten feet higher up, its size was much diminished, so that I could grasp sufficiently to ascend it, and ascertain what was within. My gun and great-coat were deposited in a secure place, and being an expert climber, I soon gained the top. As 1 anticipated, the stub was hollow, the aperture being about two and a half feet in diameter. The day, you will observe, was dark and cloudy, and looking down the hollow, I fancied STORY OP A HUNTER. 155 I could see the bottom at no great distance ; but having nothing to put in to ascertain its depth, I concluded that I would try to touch the bottom with my feet. I therefore placed myself in the hole, and lowered myself gradually, expecting every moment that my feet would come in con- tact with some animal, or the foot oi the hollow ; but feel- ing nothing, I unthinkingly continued letting myself down, until my head and hands, and my whole person, were completely within the centre of the stub. At this moment _ a sudden and strange fear came over me ; I know not from what cause, for I am not naturally timid. It seemed to affect me with a sense of suffocation, such as is expe- rienced in dreams under the effects of nightmare. Ren- dered desperate by my feelings, I made a violent attempt to extricate myself, when the edges of the wood to which I was holding, treacherously gave way, and precipitated me to the bottom of the hole, which I found extended to a level with the ground. I cannot wholly account for it, but probably from the erect position in which ray body was necessarily kept in so narrow a tube, and my landing on my feet on a bed of moss, dried leaves, and other soft sub- stances, I sustained little or no injury from so great a fall ; and my clothes were but little deranged in my descent, owing, probably, to the smoothness of the surface, pro- duced by the long and frequent passing of the animals to and from their den — for a den I found it to be. After re- covering from my fright, I had time to examine the inte- rior. All was dark, and putting out my hands to feel the way, they came in contact with the cold nose, and then the fur of some beast, which I immediately knew was a half grown cub, or young bear. Continuing to examine, I ascertained there were three o"" four of those animals, which aroused by the noise made in my descent, came around and smelt of me, uttering a mourning noise, taking me, at first, no doubt, for their dam ; but, after a little examination, snufhng and snorting as if alarmed, they quietly betook themselves to their couch, on the moss, and left me to my own gloomy reflec- tions. I knew they were too young to do me any injury, but with that knowledge came the dreadful certainty, that tlie mother whose premises I had so heedlessly entered, 15ff EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. was quite a different personage, and that my life would date but a short period after she arrived, as arrive sht certainly would, before many hours could pass over my head. The interior of the den grew more visible after my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, and aided by a Uttle light from the top, I discovered that the den was cir- cular, and on the ground, was five or six feet in diameter, its circumference diminishing, at the height of seven or eight feet, to a diameter of less than three, owing to the singular formation of the trunk, as I have before remarked. All my attempts to reach the narrow part of the hollow, in the hopes of working my way out, as a chimney sweej might have done, were fruitless. My escape in this way, therefore, was impossible. To cut through the trunk a hole sufficient to let out my body, with a small pocket knife, the only one I had, would have been the work of many weeks, and even months, as from the examination which I had made of both the exterior and interior, I knew that it could not be less than a foot thick. The knife was the only weapon which I possessed, and a hug of my tre- mendous adversary would deprive me of the power to use even so contemptible an implement ; and even if I suc- ceeded in killing the bear — which was not to be expected — my case was equally hopeless, for I should only ex- change a sudden death for one, if possible, even more hor- rid, a lingering one of famine and thirst — for my tracks in the snow I knew were long since covered by the drift, and there was no possibility of my friends finding me, by search- ing in a wilderness of many miles in circuit. My situation was indeed hopeless and desperate. As the shades ot evening were now fast approaching, I thought of my cheerful home ; my wife seated by the fire with our child in her arms, or preparing our evening meal, looking out Anxiously, from time to time, expecting my return. These, and many more such thoughts, rushed through my mind^ and which way soever, they were teeming with horror. At one time I had nearly determined to wreak my feelings upon the cubs, by destroying them, but the wanton and useless cruelty of the act, as they could be of no service to me, then prevented me. Yes, I would be merciful. Oh I you know not how merciful one is, when he feels that STORY OP A HUNTER. 157 he himself would willingly be an object of mercy from others. Two hom's had probably elapsed, and to me two of the longest that I ever experienced, when suddenly the little light which had illuminated me from above, was gone ; 1 looked up and could no longer see the sky. My ears, which at the time were peculiarly sensitive, were assailed witn a low, growling noise, such as a bear makes on dis covering an enemy, and preparing for an attack. I thought that my fate was at hand, as this was the mother descend- ing to her cubs, having, by acute organs of smell, discover- ed that her den had been entered by some enemy. From the time I had ascertained my true situation, I had opened my knife and held it ready in hand for the encounter, come when it would. I now, therefore, braced myself for a death-grapple with my terrible antagonist, feverishly await- ing her descent. Bears always descend in the same man ner as they ascend trees ; that is, the head is always up ward, consequently heu most assailable part was exposed to me. A thought, quick as lightning, rushed through my mind, that escape was possible, and that the bear might be the means. Just as she reached that part where the hollow widened, and where, by a jump, I could reach her, I made a desperate spring, and with both hands firmly caught hold of the fur which covered her extremities, giv ing at the same time a scream, which, in this close den, sounded a thousand times louder than any human voice in the open air. The bear, and she w^as a powerful one, taken by surprise, and unable to get at me — frightened, too, at the hideous and appalling noise which I made — • scrambled for life up the hollow. But my weight, I found, was an impediment to her ; for about half way up I per- ceived that she began to lag, and notwithstanding I con- tinued to scream, at length came to a dead stand, appa- rently not having strength enough to proceed ; knowing that my life depended on her going on, I instantly let go with the hand in which I had my knife, driving it to the haft into the flesh, and redoubling the noise which I had already made. Her pain and fears gave her new strength, and by another effort she brought me once more to the light of day, at the top of the stub ; nor did she stop thers to receive ray thanks for the benefit which she had confer- 14 158 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. red on me, but hastily descended to the ground, and maae her way with all speed to the swamp. I sat for some time on the stub out of breath, and hardly crediting the reality of my escape. After giving thanks to that Providence which had so wonderfully preserved me, I descended to the ground, found my coat and gun where I had left them, and reached home, after a fatiguing walk tnrough the woods, about nine o'clock in the evening. ASCENDING MOUNT BLANC. Every one who has studied geography, knows that Mount Blanc, or White Mountain, (so called because always covered with snow,) on the borders of Switzerland, is the highest mountain in Europe. It is 15,666 feet, or about three miles above the level of the Mediterranean Sea ; and two and a quarter above the valleys that sur- round it. The top of this peak may be seen about 150 miles. The highest part is a small ridge about six feet wide, called the dromedary's hack. Up this mountain many parties of travelers have climbea, amid snow and ice, and the greatest peril ; and in these foolish expeditions many lives are lost. Among the more striking accounts of climbing this dangerous moun- tain, is that of Dr. Raffles, who ascended it in 1817, and whose story is as follows. The ascent is exceedingly steep, and is frequently made in part upon mules ; but" we performed the whole on foot. Our guide was Michael Ferrez, one of those who accom- panied M. de Saussure in his first ascent to Mount Blanc, a robust, careful, civil, and intelligent man, to whose assist- ance and information we were greatly indebted. At the commencement of the expedition, we were each furnished with a long pole, with a spike at the end, for which we found abundant use before our return. In our ascent we observed the ruin which had been wrought by man}^ avalanches, while our ears v»^ere assailed by the thunders of others, occurring in higher districts of the mountains, and out of our sight. Trees torn up by the M \ X \\ /ill , .W . i;| ."%. "^jg^^i^A ASCENDING MOUNT BLANG ASCENDING MOUNT BLANC. 16J roots, withered branches and blasted trunks, were scattered in every direction round us, and sometimes a considerable space was completely cleared by one of these tremendous agents of destruction. An avalanche (great mass of ice) that fell about two hundred years ago, completely buried the principal village situated at the foot of the mountain, in consequence of which the inhabitants who escaped, re- moved to the opposite side of the Arve, which flows through the centre of the valley, and built the present village of Chamouni, or the priory. The higher we ascended, the more steep and difficult the way became, and we began to find the poles with which the guide had furnished us of considerable service. His mode of using them, however, was very different from that which my previous habits suggested. He taught us to hold them with both hands, resting the weight of the body upon them, and at the same time inclining the figure towards the face of the mountain. In this case, a false step would have been less dangerous than if the inclination of the body had been towards the valley. But soon their assistance became absolutely essential, when we reached the shoots or rivers of frozen snow that, towards its sum- mit, descend down the sides of the mountain, and over which the traveler must pass. The danger here was cer- tainly considerable, the inclination of the ice being ex- tremely steep, and the surface perfectly smooth ; one false step would have been inevitable destruction. Our guide crossed first, making holes for our feet with his own. He then returned, and taking one at a time by the left hand, while the right grasped the pole which was to preserve the balance true, directed us to look neither above, nor on one side, but only at our feet ; for if we stumbled, and touched the ice with any part of the body but the foot, nothing could save us from being precipitated down the ice, and dashed against the rocks, or the stumps of trees below. You may be sure we implicitly followed his directions, and having passed the first in safety, the rest, for there were several, appeared less formidable ; while the danger was diminished in proportion to the confidence we acquired. Ladies, however, frequently cross these icy shoots, sup- 162 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. ported and defended from danger by two poles, which pass under the arms, and are carried by two guides in the manner of a sedan chair. In this way the daughter of Admiral Navarre passed, two days before us, being the first heroine who had climbed to the summit of Montan- vert, this season. Upon one of these shoots, our guide showed us the way in which Mons. de Saussure and his party descended from J^Iount Blanc. It was an interesting, but somewhat terrific exhibition, and by no means adapted to spectators, much less to practitioners, of delicate nerves. He ascended the mountain, and got upon the shoot of ice, about a hundred feet above us, and planting his heels firmly in the frozen snow, he placed his pole under his right arm, leaned the whole weight of his body upon it, and then starting down the shoot, he passed us with the swiftness of an arrow from a bow — his body almost in a sitting posture, his heels and the spikrid end of the pole alone touching the ice, and deeply indenting it. The effect was horrible. It seemed impossible that he should evei recover himself. But, to our astonishment, we soon perceived him slacken his pace, turn himself round, with all the ease of an experienced skater, ana leaving the i^e, walk towards us without any appearance of alarm or fatigue. In this way, he said, they descendet many miles in the space of a very few minutes. We, inhabitants of cities and plains, should be long ill learning such a dangerous art. My companion, howevei from his familiarity with perilous exploits at sea, was fai. less apprehensive of danger in these icy expeditions, thaa myself; and I shall not easily forget the benevolent anx- iety with which the guide, who was helping me across one of the sheets of ice, cried out to him, (in French,) " J'ai crainte pour vous," when he saw him fearlessly following us, with no assistance but his pole. The carefulness of the guides is very great. Every con- sideration, indeed, conspires to make them cautious. The lives of travelers are committed to them, and their bread depends upon the safety with which they conduct them. I believe no accident was ever known to happen, where the pfkiiTii had an accredited guide, and followed his direa SHIPWRECK, SUFFERING, AND MURDER. 163 tions. Those who will go alone, or act independently, must take the consequences, and they have often been calamitous and fatal. SHIPWRECK, SUFFERING, AND MURDER. The files of late English papers are largely occupiea with the details of a narrative, which has no parallel foi sufiering and horror, even in the annals of shipwreck. The facts transpired at a police investigation in London. It seems that in 1835, the ship Stirling Castle, Captain Frazer, was wrecked on a coral reef, on a passage from Sydney to Singapore. The captain's wife, Mrs. Eliza Ann Frazer, together with eighteen men and two boys, com- prised the souls on board. Two of the men, who were at the wheel at the time when the ship struck, were instantly killed, and the cabins were dashed into the hold, together with all the bread, pork, and other provisions. But the following harrowing narrative, taken down before the Lord Mayor of London, in the language^ of Mrs. Frazer herself, while it cannot but excite a shudder in every phi- lanthropic mind, will be read with interest and sympathy. We may add, that the statement of Mrs. F. was fully cor- roborated, and even with additional horrors, by John Bax- ter, the second mate. Mrs. Frazer deposed that the crew, when the tempest ceased, contrived to cut away the masts, in the expecta- tion that the ship wouid right herself, and she did, in some degree, change her position, but not to any serviceable extent : they therefore determined to get away as well as they could in the long boat and pinnace, which they had contrived to keep secure, thp two other boats which were attached to the ship, having been swept away by the fury of the elements. They knew they were to the northward of Moreton Bay, a portion of the settlements of the British crown, and they determined to make frr that place with as much expedition as possible. Accordingly, having worked with the most desperate industry until four o'clock on Sunday, they quitted the vessel, and took to the boats 164 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. The ship's carpenter, the cook, the cook's mate, John Fra- zer, the captain's nephew, the boatswain, Edward Stone, and Bill Lorton, a seaman, took to the pinnace ; while the captain, his wife, chief mate, the second mate, the two boys, and the rest of the crew, took to the long-boat. Four days after they committed themselves to the care of Provi- dence, Mrs. Frazer was delivered of a child, while up to her waist in water, in the long-boat. The infant was born alive, but after a few gasps was drowned ; and the chief mate wrapped up the body in a part of his shirt, which he tore from his back for the purpose, and let it go along with the tide. The poor mother could- not account for the extraordinary vigor with which she was able to bear up a^'ainst this calamity, added to the other calamities to wLiich she was doomed to be exposed. Fortunately, she wa'. for some time in a state of insensibility, and was not, unti) a considerable time after the child was consigned to the Goep, aware that it was brought into the world, from whicL it was so rapidly hurried away. For a great many days tiiey endeavored in vain to reach Moreton Bay, be- ing all ihe time without any food, except a small quantity of the Ices of hops, which they found in a cask. They suffered Jteadfully from thirst as well as hunger, while in this awful situation. At last they reached a large rock, to which the> fastened their boats, and then went in quest of oysters and water ; but their disappointments were multi- plied upon ihem, and they stretched themselves along the rock, in expectation of a speedy release from their suffer- ings, by the interposition of another tempest. In the morn- ing, those who belonged to the longboat, were astonished to find, that the pinnace and the men who had occupied her, had altogether disappeared. These unfortunate fel- lows were never heard of more, and their comrades in calamity could not conjecture.what their motive could be for making an experiment by themselves, without the aid of the experience of the captain and mates, whom they left behind. The captain's aim was all along, after they had been obliged to quit the ship, to reach Moreton Bay ; but find- mg that wind and current were so dead against his object, and his companions being reduced to the extremity of lying SHIPWRECK, SUFFERING, AND MURDER. 165 on their backs in the boat, with their tongues out, to catch the damp of the dews that fell, he resolved to make fo; the nearest land. It was a choice of awful evils, for he knew that the shore which it was probable they would reach, was visited by tribes of savages. They bore away before the wind, prepared to meet death in whatever shape it might present itself, and so exhausted with suffering, as to be careless whether they were to die by the hands of the natives, or to be overwhelmed by tlie waves. At last, they came in sight of land, and soon afterwards, their boat ran into and landed in a place called White Bay. They were about one hundred miles north of Moreton Bay, which is the principal of the penal settlements, to which the incorrigible convicts were sent to pass the remainder of their days in uninterrupted labor ; and just as they touched the land, they caught sight of vast crowds of naked savages, who soon approached the beach, evidently delighted with the prize that presented itself The sav- ages surrounded the boat, and raising it up, carried it from the beach to the bush, with its crew just as they were The moment they laid the boat on the ground, they began to strip the men of their clothes, commencing wiih the captain and chief officers. John Baxter, the second mate, endeavored to hide a shirt ornament, in which his aunt's hair was contained, having willingly yielded up every thing else ; but the savages became infuriated at the attempt at concealment, and beat him dreadfully. It is unnecessary to say that the trinket was torn from him. They broke in pieces the watches and chronometers, and each took a portion of the machinery to stick in their noses and ears, and after they had divided among themselves the various portions of apparel, of which they stripped their captives, they threw to them the heads and entrails of the fish upon which they had been lately making their meal. The sav- ages, after having detained them two days, took them fur- ther up into the bush, and drove them onward, that they might, as they soon ascertained, fall into the hands of othei tribes, by whom an ingenious variety was to be given to their sufferings. The captain had endeavored to prevail upon them to accept the services of the poor crew for a longer time, being apprehensive that any change among 166 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. tne natives would be for the worse ; but they beat all the now naked whites on before them, until fresh tribes came up, and took each of them a prisoner, and set him to work m carrying pieces of trees, and toiling in other exhausting ways. Mrs. Frazer being the only woman, was not selected by any of the tribes, but was left by herself, while they all went onward ; but her husband got an opportunity to mention to her not to stir from the place in which she was at the moment, and that he would contrive to see her in a few hours. During that night, she lay in the clefts of a rock, and in the morning, after looking about without see- ing a creature, she determined to follow some foot-marks and after having proceeded to some distance, she saw a crowd of black women approach. These, however, be- longed to the tribe of savages by whom her husband had been taken up in the bush, on the preceding day ; and they set her to work in cutting wood and lighting fires. Being quite naked, and presenting a contrast in her skin which the women did not like, she was compelled by thera to rub herself all over with gum and herbs, which had the effect of making her nearly as dark as themselves. They likewise tattooed her all over, and having pulled her hair out, covered her head with a sort of gum, and stuck the feathers of parrots and other birds all over it. One of the women having two children, obliged her to nurse one of them, notwithstanding the severe labor she had to perform, and if the child was out of temper, the nurse was kicked, and scratched, and thumped, for its peev- ishness. At the expiration of four days, Mrs. Frazer saw her husband, for the first time since their separation. He was dragging along a tree, and was greatly fatigued. She had just begun to inquire how it happened that he did not manage to let her know where he was, and he replied that he dared not look for her, when his tribe suddenly appear- ed ; one of them having seen them together, made a push at the captain with a spear, and pierced him right through the body, and he fell dead in an instant. Mrs. Frazer ran to her husband, and cried out — " Jesus of Nazareth, I can endure this no longer," and pulled the spear out of hia body, but his breath was gone forever. She then fell SHIPWRECK, SUFFERING, AND MURDER. 167 senseless, and remained so for a considerable time, and ^-"nen she recovered her senses, she found herself along with the tribe -which she was obliged to serve; but what oecanie of the body of Captain Frazer, she never could learn, and of course the barbarous region in which she was enslaved, was no place for sympathy. Shortly after this catastrophe, the first officer of the ship having been inform- eU that the captain had been murdered by one of the tribes formed, in a fit of desperation, a plan of revenge, fettered and' exhausted with labor as he was. This intention was, however, discovered, and horrible was his punishment. Mrs. Frazer had just lighted a fire, by order of her tribe and the unfortunate man's leg was thrust into it and con sumed, while he, by the violence of his contortions, ac- tually worked for the rest of his body, a grave in the sand in which he was imbedded. Two days after this horrible event, a fine looking young man, named James Major, was disposed of Captain Fra- zer, who knew a good deal of the character and habits of the savages on this coast, had mentioned to Major, that the savages would take off his head for a figure-bust for one of their canoes. It seemed, too, that it was usual for the savage who contemplated that sort of execution, to smile in the face of his victim immediately before he struck him to the earth. While Major was at work, the chief of his tribe approached him, smiling, and tapped him on the shoul- der. At that instant, the poor fellow received a blow on the back of the neck from a waddle, or crooked stick, which stunned him. He fell to the ground, and a couple of savages set to work, and by means of sharpened shells, severed the head from the body, with frightful exclama- tions. They then ate parts of the body, and preserved the head with certain gums of extraordinary efficacy, and affixed it as a figure-bust to one of their canoes. The rest of the crew, of course, expected nothing less than death. Their apprehensions appeared to relate rather to the mode of inflicting the extreme penalty, than to the fact that they iliust prematurely die. Two of the seamen, named Doyle and Big Ben, contrived to steal a canoe, and endeavored to cross an island, but were drowned in the attempt to escape from, perhaps, a more fearful deatri. 168 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. There was a black man, named Joseph, who had been steward on board the Stirling Castie. When the savage? seized the long-boat in which the crew had entered White Bay, they stripped this Joseph, as well as the rest, but as he was of their own color, they inflicted no punishment upon him, and he had the privilege of going about, which was denied to any other of the wretched strangers. This man, who was continually watching an opportunity to escape, had assured Mrs. Frazer that if he could get awa)^, the first life he should think of saving, would be that of his mistress. He succeeded in stealing a canoe, in which he rowed off, and in six weeks reached Moreton Bay, where he informed the commandant of the penal settlement, of the horrible circumstances which had taken place at While Bay, and of the servitude in which the survivors of the crew were detained. By this time, Mrs. Frazer was separated, and at a con- siderable distance from the different members of the crew, and she had given up all hopes of ever being liberated from the frightful bondage in which she was detained. The Moreton Bay commandant immediately upon hearing this, inquired in the barracks, whether any of the military would volunteer to save a lady and several of the crew of ihe wrecked vessel, from the savages in the bush, and a number offered their services at a moment's notice.. By a system of manoeuvering, entered into by a convict, who had been for some years in the bush amongst the savages, the object was effected. All the survivors were, to the best of Mrs. Frazer's belief, rescued from the savages. At the camp, the commandant and the commissary, and in fact, all the individuals who were in the service of the government, treated Mrs, Frazer and her companions in misfortune, with a degree of kindness which it is evident the former has a very warm recollection of She was placed under medical care immediately, and every thing that was considered likely to abate the sense of what she had undergone, in witnessing the murder of her husband and the other horrors with which she was surrounded. was done. The captain of the Mediterranean packet, in which Mrs. Frazer arrived from Sydney at Liverpool, stated that he FOOLISH FRIGHT. 169 was at Sydnc\ «t the time of the arrival of that lad/, ana that the circun^stances detailed, caused the greatest excite- ment ihere. 1 he convict, to whose extraordinary exer- tions Mrs. Frazer owed her escape, received a free pardon from the government there, and a reward of thirty guineas. The Lord Mayor asked what were the circumstances of Mrs. Frazer ? He was convinced that, if she were in ne- cessity, the ladies in London, who were constantly looking for such objects, would speedily relieve her. The captain said that the unfortunate lady was not mistress of a far- thing ; the clothes on her back had been given to her by the commandant's wife ; and Capt. Frazer had been the sole support of her and three children, who were in the Orkney Islands, to which she was anxious to go, as soon as possible. She was lame, had almost lost the use of one arm, and the sight of one eye, by the severity of the inflic- tions to which she had been subjected. The Lord Mayor said, " I shall willingly receive contributions for her benefit, and I am sure the call will soon be answered. 1 never heard of any thing so truly dreadful, in all my experience.' FOOLISH FRIGHT. A STORY IS thus related by Mr. Vernon :— I was com- mg home one night on horseback, from a visit that I had just been making to a number of neighboring villages, where I had quartered my recruits. There had fallen a great deal of rain that day, since noon, and during all the evening, which had broken up the road, and it was raining still with the same violence ; but being forced to join my company the next morning, I set out, provided with a lantern, having to pass a narrow defile between two mountains. I had just cleared the defile, when a gust of wind took off my hat, and carried it so far, that I despaired of recov- ' ering it again, and therefore gave up the matter. By great good fortune, I had on a large scarlet cloak. I covered up my head and shoulders with it, leaving nothing but a httle hole to see my way and breathe through ; and for fear the 15 170 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. wind should take a fancy to my cloak as well as hat, 1 passed my right arm across my body to secure it, so mat riding on in this position, you may easily perceive that my lantern, which I held in my right hand, was under my left shoulder. At the entrance of a village, on a hill, I met three trav- elers, who no sooner saw me, than they ran away, as if they were possessed. For my part, I went on with a gallop, and when come into the town, alighted at an inn, where I designed to rest myself a little ; but soon after, who should enter but my three poltroons, as pale as death itself. They told the landlord and his people, trembling as they spoke, that on the road they had encountered a great figure of a man all over blood, whose head was like a flame of fire, and to increase the wonder, it was placed beneath his shoulder. He was mounted on a dreadful horse, said they, quite black before, and gray behind, which, notwithstanding it was lame, he spurred and whip ped right up the mountain with extraordinary swiftness. Here they ended their relation. They had taken care to spead the alarm as they were flying from this wondrou? apparition, and the people had come with them to the ii;n in such a drove, that upwards of a hundred were all squeezed together, opening their mouths and ears at this tremendous story. To make up in some sort for my dismal journey, I re solved to laugh a little and be merry at their cost, intendinj^ at the same time to cure them of such frights, by showing them their folly in the present instance. With this view I mounted my horse again behind th*i inn, went round about, till I had rode the distance of hall" a mile ; then turning, I disposed of my accoutrements, tha. is to say, my cloak and lantern, as before, and on I came upon a gallop towards the inn. You should have seen the frighted mob of villagers, how they hid their faces at the sight, and crowded into the passage. There was no one but the host that had courage to remain and keep his eye upon me. I was now before the door, on which I shifted the position of my lantern, let my cloak drop down upon my .shoulders, and appeared the same figure he had seen me by his fire. — < -•i YATES AND DOWNING. 173 It was not without difficulty that we could bring the simple people from their terxor, who had crowded in for safety ; the three travelers in particular, as the first impres- sion was still strong within them, could not credit what they saw. We finished by a hearty laugh at their ex- pense, and talking of the man whose head was like a flame of fire, and placed beneath his shoulder. This is my ghost story ; and perhaps if I had not afford- ed these people such a conviction of their groundless apprehension, the story of my strange appearance woula have passed from one old woman to another, and for cen turies occasioned mortal fears throughout the country YATLS AND DOWNING, JSoME of the adventures of our countrymen, with the Indians of the west, are so striking, that, though true, they have the appearance of fiction. In August, 1786, two young men near the Slate Creek Iron Works, in Kentucky, by the names of Yates and Downing, set out together in pursuit of a horse which had strayed into the woods. Towards evening they found themselves six or seven miles from home, and, at that time exposed to danger from the Indians. Downing even be- gan to fancy he heard the cracking of sticks in the bushes 'behind them, but Yates, who was somewhat experienced as a hunter, only laughed at his fears. Downing, however, was not satisfied. He still thought the Indians were following them, and at last determined tc find out. Gradually slackening his pace, he allowed Yates to get several rods before him, and immediately after descending a little hill, he suddenly sprung aside and hid himself in a thick cluster of whortleberry bushes. Yates was humming over a song just at the time, and did not think of Downing or the Indians any more for several minutes. No sooner was he out of sight, than Downing saw two savages come out of a canebrake, and look cautiously after Yates. Fearful they had also seen him secrete himself 15* 174 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. he determined to fire on them, but his hand was so un ■ steady that he discharged his gun without taking aim, and then ran. When he had run ten or twelve rods, he met Yates, who, having heard the report of the gun, was com- ing back, to inquire what was the matter. The Indians were now in full pursuit, and Yates was glad to run with Downing. Just at this place the road divided, and at some distance further on, came together again. Yates and Downing took one road, and the two Indians, probably to get ahead of them, took the other. The former, however, reached the junction of the two roads first. But coming nearly at the same time to a deep gulley. Downing fell into it, while the Indians, who crossed it a little lower down, not observ ing his fall, kept on after Yates. Here Downing had time to reload his gun, but he did not think of it ; for he was busy m climbing up on the banks of the ditch to learn the fate of his companion. To his surprise he saw one of the Indians returning to search for him. What should he do now 1 His gun was no lon- ger of use, so he threw it aside, and again plied his heels, with the Indian after him. Coming at length to a large poplar tree which had been blown up by the roots, he ran along the body of the tree upon one side. While the Indian followed on the other, to meet him at the root. It happened, however, that a large she bear was suckling her cubs, in a bed she had made at the root of the tree, and as the Indian reached the spot a* moment first, she sprang upon him, and a prodigious up- roar took place. The Indian yelled, and stabbed with his knife ; the bear growled, hugged him closely, and endea- vored to tear him, while Downing, not anxious to stand long to see the end of the battle, took to his heels with new courage, and finally reached home in safety ; where Yates, after a hot chase, had arrived some time before him. On the next morning they collected a party and re- turned to the poplar tree to ascertain what had become of the Indian and bear, but could find no traces of either. Both, they concluded, escaped with their lives, though noi without injury. THRILLING SKETCH. 177 THRILLING SKETCH. A PORTAL of the arena ope led, and the combatant, with a mantle thrown over his fac3 and figure, v/as let in the amphitheatre. The lion roared and ramped against the bars of his den at the sight. The guard put a sword and buck-' ler into the hand of the Christian, and he was left alone. He drew the mantle from his face, and bent a slow and firm look around the amphitheatre. His fine countenanc and lofty bearing raised a universal shout of admiration. He might have stood for an Apollo encountering the Python. His eyes, at last, turned on mine. Could 1 believe my senses ? Constantius stood before me. All my rancor vanished. An hour past, I could have struck the betrayer to the heart : I could have called on the severest vengeance of man and heaven to smite the destroyer of my child. But to see him hopelessly doomed — the man whom I had honored for his noble qualities, whom I had even loved, whose crime was at the M^orst but the crime of giving way to the strongest temptation that can bewilder the heart of man — to see this noble creature flung to the savage beast, dying in toi'tures, torn piecemeal before my eyes, and his misery wrought by me, I would have circled heaven and earth to save him. But my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth. My limbs re- fused to stir. I would have thrown myself at the feet of Nero ; but I sat like a man of stone — pale, paralyzed. The beating of my pulse stopped — my eyes seemed alone alive. The gate of the den was thrown back, and the lion rushed in with a roar and a bound, that bore him half across the arena. I saw the sword glitter in the air , when it waived again it was covered with blood. A howl told the blow had been driven home. The lion, one of the largest from Numidia, and made furious by thirst and hunger, an animal of prodigious power, crouched for an instant, as if to make sure of his prey, crept a few paces onward, and sprung at the victim's throat. He was met with a second wound, but his impulse was irresistible. A cry of natural horror rang round the amphitheatre. The 178 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. struggle was for instant life ( r death. They rolled over each other ; the lion reared upon his hind feet, and with gnashing teeth and distende 1 claws, plunged on the man ; again they rose together. Anxiety was at its wildest height. The sword now swung round the champion's head in bloody circles. They fell again, covered with blood and dust. The hands of Constantius had grasped ihe lion's mane, and the furious bounds of the monstei could not loose the hold ; but his strength was evidently giving way ; he still struck terrible blows, but each weaker than the one before ; till collecting his whole force for a last effort, he darted one mighty blow in the lion's throat, and sunk. The savage yelJed, and spouting blood, fled howhng round the arena. But the hand still grasped the mane, and his conqueror dragged whirling through the dust at his heels. A universal outcry now arose to save him, if he were not already dead. But the lion, though bleed- ing from every vein, was still too terrible, and all shrunk from the hazard. At last the grasp gave way, and the body lay motionless upon the ground. What happened for some moments after, I know not. There was a struggle at the portal, a female forced her way through the guards, rushed in alone, and flung herself upon the victim. The sight of a new prey roused the lion ; he tore the ground with his claws ; he lashed his stream- ing sides with his tail ; he lifted up his mane, and bared his fangs. But his approach was no longer with a bound ; he dreaded the sword, and came snuffing the blood on the sand, and growling round the body, in circuits still diminishing. The confusion in the vast assemblage was now extreme. Voices innumerable called for aid. Women screamed and fainted, men burst into indignant clamors, at this prolonged cruelty. Even the hard hearts of the populace, accus- tomed as they were to the sacrifices of life, were roused to honest curses. The guards grasped their arms, and waited but for a sign from the emperor. But Nero gave no sign. I looked upon the woman's face ; it was Salome ! I sprang to my feet. I called on her name ; called on her bv every feeling of nature, to fly from that place of death THRILLING SKETCH. 181 to come to my arms, to think of the agonies of all that loved her. She had raised the head of Constantius on her knee, and was wiping the pale visage wdth her hair. At the sound of my voice she looked up, and calmly casting back the locks from her forehead, fixed her eyes on me. She still knelt ; one hand supported the head ; with the other she pointed to it, as her only answer. I again adjured her. There was the silence of death among the thousands around me. A fire flashed into her eyes — her cheek burn- ed ; she waived her hand with an air of superb sorrow. " I am come to die," she uttered, in a lofty tone. " This bleeding body was my husband. I have no father. The world contains to me but this clay in my arms. Yet," — and she kissed the ashy lips before her — " yet, my Con- stantius, it was to save that father, that your generous heart defied the peril of this hour. It was to redeem him from the hand of evil, that you abandoned your quiet home ! — Yes, cruel father, here lies the noble being that threw open your dungeon, that led you safe through the conflagration, that to the last moment of his liberty, only thought how he might preserve and protect you." The tears at length fell in floods from her eyes. " But," said she, in a tone of wild despair, '• he was betrayed, and may the power whose thunders avenge the cause of his people, pour dov/n just retribution upon the head that dared — !" I heard my own condemnation about to be pronounced from the lips of my own child. Wound up to the last de- gree of suffering, I tore my hair, leaped upon the bars before me, and plunged into the arena by her side. The height stunned me — 1 tottered a few paces, and fell. The lion roared, and sprang upon me. I lay helpless under him ; I felt his fiery breath ; I saw his lurid eye glarmg ; I heard the gnashing of his white fangs above me. An exulting shout arose ; I saw him rear, as if struck : gore filled his jaws. Another mighty blow was driven to his heart. He sprung high in the air, with a howl. He dropped ; he was dead. The amphitheatre thundered with acclamations. With Salome clinging to his bosom, Constantius raised me from the ground. The roar of the lion had roused him 182 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. from his swoon, and two blows saved me. The falchion had broken in the heart of the monster. The whole mul- titude stood up, supplicating for our lives, in the name of filial piety and heroism. Nero, devil as he was, dared no* resist the strength of popular feeling. He waved a signal to the guards ; the portal was opened, and my children, sustaining my feeble steps, showered with garlands and ornaments from innumerable hands, slowly led me from the arena. REMARKABLE SPECTRAL ILLUSION. BY DR. BREWSTER. Those who have read Dr, Hibbert's admirable work on the Pliilosophy of Apparitions, and have appreciated the ingenious views which he has taken of this remarkable class of mental phenomena, will peruse with double inter- est, the very singular case of spectral illusion, which forms the subject of this paper. It was communicated to me by the gentleman whose ladv was under its influence, and who was himself present dunng W.2 whole progress of the illusion which affected the eye. Were I permitted to mention his name, his sta- tion in society, and as a man of science, would authenti- cate the minutest particulars in the following narrative and satisfy the most scrupulous reader that the case has been philosophically, as well as faithfully described. The gentleman and lady, indeed, were previously well aware of the existence and nature of this class of facts, and, so far from regarding the present case as at all supernatural, or even out of the ordinary course of things, they watched it from the commencement, as a case of spectral illusion, and nave, therefore, impressed upon the narrative, a character which does not belong to any previous case, where the patient and the narrator were the same person. On the 26th of December, 1829, about half past four in the afternoon, Mrs. was standing near the fire in the hall, and on the point of going up stairs to dress, when she heard, as she supposed, my voice caUing her by nanae. REMARKABLE SPECTRAL ILLUSION. 18 '' , come here, come to me !" She imagined that 1 was calling at the door to have it opened, went to it, and was surprised on opening it to find no one. She returned towards the fire, and again heard the same voice calling, very distinctly and loud," -, come, come here." She then opened two other doors, of the same room, but seeing no one, she returned to the fireplace. After a few mo- ments, she heard the same voice still calling, " , come to me, come, come away," this time in a loud, plain- tive, and somewhat impatient tone. She answered as loudly, " Where are you ? I don't knovv where you are," — still imagining that I was somewhere in search of her ; but receiving no answer, she shortly went up stairy. On my return to the house, about half an hour afterwards, she inquired why J had called to her so often, and where I was : and was of course surprised to hear I had not been near the house at the time. On the 30th of the same month, at about four o'clock P. M., Mrs. came down stairs into the drawing-room, Vi'hich she had quitted a few minutes before, and on enter- ing the room, saw me, as she supposed, standing with mj^ back to the fire. She addressed me, asking how it was 1 had returned so soon. (I had left the house for a walk half an hour before.) She said I looked fixedly at her, with a serious and thoughtful expression of countenance, but did not speak. .She supposed I was busied in thought, and sat down in an arm chair near the fire, and close, within a couple of feet at most, of the figure she siill saw standing before her. As, however, the eyes still continued to be fixed upon her, after a few minutes, she said, " Why don't you speak, ?" The figure, upon this, moved towards the window, at the further end of the room, the eyes still gazing on her, and passed so very close to her in doing so, that she was struck by the circumstance of hearing no step nor sound, nor feeling her clothes brushed against, nor even any agitation in the air. The idea then aj'ose for the first time in her mind, that it was no reality but a spectral illusion ; (being a person of sense, and habit- uated to account rationally for most things, the notion of any thing supernatural was out of the question.) She re- collected, however, your having mentioned that there was 184 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. a sort of experimentum crusis applicable to these cases, by which a genuine ghost may be distinguished from one con- jured up by merely natural causes : namely, the pressing the eye in order to produce the effect of seeing double, when, according to your assertion, a true Tartarian ghost would be duplicated, as well as every thing else ; while the morbid idea being, I suppose, an impression on the retina, would, or ought to remain single. I am sorry, however, to say that the opportunity for verifying your theory was unfavorable. Before Mrs. — r^ was able dis- tinctly to double her vision, my figure had retreated to the window, and disappeared there. The lady followed, shook the curtains, and tried the window, being still loth to be- lieve it was not a reality, so distinct and forcible was the impression. Finding, however, that there was no natural means of egress, she became convinced of having seen a spectral apparition, such as are recorded in Dr. Hibbert's work, and, consequently, felt no alarm or agita- tion. The appearance lasted four or five minutes. It was bright daylight, and Mrs. is confident that the appa- rition was fully as vivid as the reality ; and when standing close to her, it concealed, of course, the real objects behind it. Upon being told of this, my visible appearance in the spirit, having been only audible a few days before, I was, as you may imagine, more alarmed for the health of the lady, than for my own approaching .death, or any other fatality the vision might be supposed to forbode. Still, both the stories were so very much en regie as ghost stories, the three calls of the plaintive voice, each one louder than the preceding, the fixed eyes and mournful expression of the phantom, its noiseless step and spirit-like vanishing,"were all so characteristic of the Wraith, that I might have been unable to shake off some disagreeable fancies, such as a mind once deeply saturated with the poison of nursery tales, cannot altogether banish, had it not been for a third apparition, at whose visit I myself assisted, a few days afterwards, and which, I think, is the key-stone of the case, rendering it as complete as could be wished. On the 4th of this month, (January, 1829,) five days aftei' the last apparition, at about ten o'clock at night, I 'vas sitting in the drawing-room with Mrs. , and in rPHE PRAIRIE. 185 the act ot stirring the fire, when she exclaimed, *' Why there's the cat in the room." I asked, "Where?" She replied, " There, close to you." " Where ?" i repeated. »« Why, on the rug, to be sure, between yourself and the coal scuttle." I had the poker in my hand, and I pushed it in the direction mentioned. " Take care," she cried out, " take care, you are hitting her with the poker." I again asked her to point out exactly where she saw the cat. She replied, "Why, sitting up there close to your feet, on the rug — she is looking at me : it is kitty — come here, kitty." There are two cats in the house, one of which went by this name ; they were rarely, if ever, in the drawing-room. At this time, Mrs. had cer- tainly no idea that the sight of the cat was an illusion. I asked her to touch it. She got up for the purpose, and seemed ^i.s if she was pursuing some thing which moved away. She followed a few steps, and then said, " It has gone under that chair." I told her it was an illusion. She would not believe it. I lifted up the chair : there was nothing there, nor did Mrs. see any thing more of it. I searched the room all over, and found nothing. There was a dog lying on the hearth, who would have betrayed great uneasiness had a cat been in the room. He was perfectly quiet. In order to be quite certain, however, 1 rang the bell, and sent for the two cats. They were both found in the housekeeper's room. The most superstitious person could now doubt no longer as to the real character of all these illusory appearances ; and the case is so com- plete, that I hope there will be no renewal of them, symp- tomatic as they of course are, of a disordered state of the body. I am sorry to say Mrs. , as well as myself forgot to try the experimentum crusis on the cat. THE PRAIRIE. BY AUDUBON. On my return from the Upper Mississippi, I found my- self obliged to cross one of the wide prairies, which, in that portion of the United States, vary the appearance of the 16* 186 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. countiy. The weather was fine; all around me was as fresh and blooming as if it had just issued from tiie bosom of nature. My knapsack, my gun, and my dog, were all I had foi baggage and company. But, although welf moccasined, I moved slowly along, attracted by the bril liancy of the flowers, and the gambols of the fawns around their dams, to all appearance as thoughtless of danger as J felt myself My march was of long duration ; I saw the sun sinking boneath the horizon long before I could perceive any ap pearance of woodland, and nothing in the shape of a man had I met with, -that day. The track which I followed was only an old Indian trace, and as darkness overshaded the prairie, I felt some desire to x^each at least a copse, in which I might lie down to rest. The night-hawks were skimming over and around me, attracted by th" buzzing wings of the beetles which form their food, and tht distant howling of wolves gave me some hope that I should soon arrive at the skirts of some woodland. I did so, and almost at the same instant a fire light at tracting my eye, I moved towards it, full of confidence, that it proceeded from the camp of some wandering In- dians. I was mistaken : I discovered by its glare that ii was from the hearth of a small log cabin, and that a tal^ figure passed and repassed betvi^een it and me, as if busily engaged in household arrangements. 1 reached the spot, and presenting myself at the door, asked the tall figure, which proved to be a woman, if 1 might take shelter under her roof for the night. Her voic« was gruff", and her attire negligently thrown about her. She answered in the affirmative. I walked in, took a wooden stool, and quietly seated myself by the fire. The next object that attracted my notice, was a finely formed young Indian, resting his head between his hands, with his elbows on his knees. A long bow rested against the log wall near him, while a quantity of arrows, and two or three racoon skins, lay at his feet. He moved not ; he apparently breathed not. Accustomed to the habits of the Indians, and knowing that they pay little attention to the approach of civilized strangers, (a circumstance which in some countries is considered as evincing the apathy ot THE PRAIRIE. 187 their character,) I addressed him in French, a language not unfrequently partially known to the people in that neighborhood. He raised his head, pointed to one of his eyes with his finger, and gave me a significant glance with tiie other. His face was covered with blood. The fact was, that an hour before this, as he was in the act of dis- charging an arrow at a racoon in the top of a tree, the arrow split upon the cord, and sprung back with such vio- lence into his right eye, as to destroy it for ever. Feeling hungry, I inquired what sort of fare I might expect. Such a thing as a bed was not to be seen, but many large untanned bear and buffalo hides lay piled in a corner. I drew a fine time-piece from my breast, and told the woman that it was late, and that I was fatigued. She had espied my watch, the richness of which seemed to operate upon her feehngs with electric quickness. She told me that there was plenty of venison and jerked buffalo meat, and that on removing the ashes I should find a cake. But my watch had struck her fancy, and her curiosity had to be gratified by an immediate sight of it. I took off the gold chain that secured it from around my neck, and presented it to her. She was all ecstacy, spoke of its beauty, asked me its value, and put the chain around her brawny neck, saying how happy the possession of such a watch would make her. Thoughtless, and as I fancied myself, in so retired a spot, secure, I paid little attention to her talk or her movements. I helped my dog to a good supper of venison, and was not long in satisfying the de- mands of my own appetite. The Indian rose from his seat, as if in extreme suffering. He passed and repassed me several times, and once pinched me on the side so violently, that the pain nearly brought forth an exclamation of anger. I looked at him. His eye met mine ; hut his look was so forbidding, that it struck a chill into the more nervous part of my system. He aga-in seated himself, drew his butcher-knife from its greasy scabbard, examined its edge, as 1 would do that of a razor suspected dull, replaced it, and again taking his tomahawk from his back, filled the pipe of it with tobacco and sent me expressive glances whenever our hostess chanced to have her back towards us. 188 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. Never until that moment had my senses been awakened to the danger which I now suspected to be about me. I returned glance for glance to my companion, and rested well assured that, whatever enemies I might have, he was not of their number I asked the woman for my watch, wound it up, and under pretence of wishing to see how the weather might probably be on the morrow, took up my gun, and walked out of the cabin. I slipped a ball into each barrel, scraped ,he edges of my flints, renewed the primings, and return- ing to the hut, gave a favorable account of my observa- tions. I took a few bear skins, made a pallet of them, and calling my faithful dog to my side, lay down, with my gun close to my body, and in a few minutes was, to all appearance, fast asleep. A short time had elapsed, when some voices were heard, and from the corner cf my eyes I saw two athletic youths making their entrance, bearing a dead stag on a pole. They disposed of their burden, and asking for whiskey, helped themselves freely to it. Observing me and the wounded Indian, they asked who I was, and why the devil that rascal (meaning the Indian, who, they knew, under- stood not a word of English) was in- the house. The mother, for so she proved to be, bade them speak less loudly, made mention of my watch, and took them to a corner, where a conversation took place, the purport of which it required little shrewdness in me to guess. I tapped my dog gently. He moved his tail, and with indescriba- ble pleasure, I saw his fine eyes alternately fixed on me, and raised towards the trio in the corner. I felt that he perceived danger in my situation. The Indian exchanged a last glance with me. The lads had eaten and drank themselves into such a condition, that I already looked upon them as Iwrs de corn- hat ; and the frequent visits of the whiskey bottle to the ugly mouth of their dam, I hoped would soon reduce her to a like state. Judge- of my astonishment, reader, when 1 saw this incarnate fiend take a large carving knife, and go to the grindstone to whet its edge. I saw her pour the water on the turning machine, and watched her working away with the dangerous instrument, until the sweat BURIED ALIVE. 191 covered every part of my body, in despite of my determi- nation to defend myself to the last. Her task finished, she walked to her reeling sons, and "said, " There, that'll soon settle him ! Boys, kill you , and then for the watch." 1 turned, cocked my gun-locks silently, touched my faithful companion, and lay ready to start up and shoot the first who might attempt my life. The moment was fast approaching, and that night might have been my last in this world, had not Providence made preparations for my rescue. All was ready. The infernal hag was advancing slowly, probably contemplating the best way of despatch- ing me, while ner sons should be engageii with the Indian. I was several times on the eve of rising and shooting her on the spot : but she was not to be punished thus. The door was suddenly opened, and there entered two stout travelers, each with a long rifle on his shoulder. I bounced up on my feet, and making them most heartily welcome, told them how well it was for me, that they should have arrived at that moment. The tale was told in a minute. The drunken sons were secured, and the woman, in spite of her defense and vociferations, shared the same fate. The Indian fairly danced with joy, and gave us to under- stand that, as he could not sleep for pain, he would watch over us. You may suppose we slept much less than we talked. The two strangers gave me an account of theii once having been themselves in a somewhat similar situa- tion. Day came, fair and rosy, and with it the punishment of our captives. BURIED ALIVE. An accident happened on an estate near the city of Ly ons, on the 4th of September, 1836, which is remarkabl(? alike for the patient endurance of the sufferer, and his as- tonishing deliverance from the living grave in which he was inhumed for several days, sixty-three feet below the surface. Some workmen employed in digging a well in a sandy taid loose soil, had reached a depth of sisty-three feet, when 192 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. they thougnt they perceived the drums which are used to pievent tlie sand, from breaking in, bending, and feared that they were just ready to yield to the pressure of tlie weight around them. The workmen made haste to re- ascend ; but in their haste they Jeft at the bottom of the well a number of their valuable tools. The contractor, wishing to repair this forgetful ness, went down himself to bring up the tools, but on arriving at about three quarters of the depth, a part of the drum save way, the ground crumbled in, and shut out all retreat from the imprudent man, to whom there remained no means of communication with the outside, except from the crevices left in the wood work which had served to form the drum. In this position he still remains. He can speak, and is able to receive food and drink, which is sent down to him to support him till his deliverance can be effected. The efforts which have been made for this pur- pose have been thus far fruitless. The name of the unfor- tunate man is Dufavel, and though he has passed consid- erable time in this horrible position, he still shows great coolness and courage. He can communicate verbally with men who descend into the upper part of the well, which remains undisturbed, and in this way he has receiv- ed a visit, at his own request, from M. Thevenet, the vicar of the parish of St. Just, who did not hesitate, notwith- standing the danger of the attempt, to descend into the neighborhood of this unfortunate man, and bestow upon him the consolations of his holy ofiice. Dufavel has sent up all the valuables he had about him. such as his watch, his silver money, ear rings, &:c. He kept nothing but his knife, to use, as he says, to put a period to his miseries, if he should perceive that ail the efforts for his deliverance prove fruitless. He recommends them not to work over nis head, and has pointed out, as the only means for ins fescue, that they should dig a well parallel with the first, with which they can open a communication by means of a subterranean gallery. The public authorities have dis- played a praiseworthy zeal on this occasion. M. Chinard, a physician, and one of the city government of Lyons, has not quitted the spot since the disaster, and he is accom- panied by other members of the government. They encour- BURIED ALIVE. 193 vas useless. Now came the tryin-g moment. Hundreds leaped from the burning wreck into the waters. Mothers were seen standing on the guards with disheveled hair praying for help. Their dear little innocents clung to the side of their mothers, and with their tiny hands beat away the burning flames. Sisters called out to their brothers in unearthly voices, " save me, oh, my brother." Wives crying to their husbands to save their children, in total for- getfulness of themselves. Every second or two, a despe- rate plunge of some poor victim falling on the apalled ear — the dashing to and fro of the horses on the forecastle, groaning audibly for pain of the devouring element — the continued puffing of the engine, for it still continued to go — the screaming mother, who had leaped overboard, in the desperation of the moment, with her only child — the flames mounting to the sky, with the rapidity of lightning — shall I ever forget that scene — that hour of horror and alarm ? Never, were I to live till the memory shall forget all else that ever came to the senses. The short half hour tha- separated and plunged into eternity two hundred humaj» beings, has been so burnt into the memory, that even novj 1 think of it more than half the day. I was swimming to the shore with all my might, endea voring to sustain a mother and child. My strength faileo me. The babe was nothing — a mere cork. " Go, go,' said the brave mothei", " save my child, save my ,* and she sunk to rise no more. Nerved by the resolutiop of that w^oman, I reached the shore in safety. The babe I saved. Ere I reached the beach, the Sherrod had swung, off the bar, and was slowly floating down, the engine hav- ing ceased running. In every direction heads dotted the surface of the river. A new, and still more awful appear- ance, the burning wreck, now wore. Mothers were seen clinging, with the last hope, to the blazing timbers, and dropping off one by one. The screams had ceased. A sullen silence rested over the devoted vessel. The flames became tired of their destructive work. 212 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. While I sat dripping and overcome upon the beach, a steamboat, the Columbus, hove in sight, and bore for the wreck. It seemed like one last ray of hope gleaming across the dead gloom of that night. Several wretches were saved. And still another, the Statesman, came in sight. More, more were saved. A moment to me had only elapsed, when high in the heavens the cinders flew, and the country was lighted all around. Still another boat came booming on. I was happy that more help had come. After an exchange of words with the Columbus, he continued on his way, under full steam. Oh, how my heart sank within me 1. The waves created by this boat sent many a poor mortal to his long home. A being, by tlie name of D , was the captain of that merciless boat. Long may he be remembered I ' My hands were burnt, and I now began to experience severe pain. The scene before me ; the loss of my two sisters and brother, whom I had missed in the confusion, all had steeled my heart. I could not weep — I could not sigh. The cries of the babe at my side, were nothing to me. Again — another explosion ! and the watei^s closed slowly and suddenly over the scene of disaster and death. Dark- ness resumed her sway, and the stillness was only inter- rupted by the distant efforts of the Columbus and States- man, in their laudable exertions to save human life. I could tell of scenes of horror that would rouse the in- dignation of a stone ; but I have done. As to myself, I could tell you much to excite your interest. It was more than three weeks after the occurrence, before I ever shed a tear. All the fountains of sympathy had been dried up, and my heart was as the stone. As I lay on my bed, the 24th day after, tears, salt tears, came to my relief, and I felt the loss of my sisters and brother more deeply than ever. Peace be to their spirits : they found a watery grave. In the course of all human events, scenes of misery will occur. But where they arise from sheer carelessness, it requires more than Christian fortitude to forgive the being who is in fault GENERAL ARNOLD AND THE SPY. 213 GENERAL ARNOLD AND THE SPY. BY THE LATE S. ADAMS. I ENLISTED in the revolutionary army at about the age of eighteen, in the early part of the contest, and was placed under the command of Benedict Arnold. It was the most gloomy period of the revolution, when Gen. Washington, with his remnant of an army, was retreating through the Jerseys, while Sir Henry Clinton was in possession of New York, and Burgoyne of Ticonderoga. The British com- mander had formed a plan of establishing a line of fortifi- cations from Lake George to New York, for the purpose of cutting off the commnnication between the rebels of the east and the south. A detachment of about one thousand British and tories, under St. Leger, was sent from Ticon- deroga to carry this plan into effect, who, in conformity with the true British policy of the period, were reinforced by about the same number of Indians, his majesty's faith- ful allies. It became an object of the utmost importance to intercept this detachment, and break up the communi cation. The work was assigned by Washington to Ar- nold ; but he could spare for this important service no more than about seven hundred men. I was in this de- tachment. One evening, after a tedious march, we took up our quarters in a little farming village, and shortly after the halt, a notorious spy was brought into camp. His name was Cuyler, a tory and a cowboy, in the employ- ment of St. Leger. He was tried by a court martial, and I recollect well that the famous General Hull, of Canada memory, then a major, was on the court martial. Proof was abundant, and he was sentenced to death, and as time was pressing, he was ordered to be executed in the morn- mg. Cuyler was ironed, put in an upper chamber, in the house where Arnold quartered, and I was selected to gtiard the door. As the prisoner's father lived not far distant, he requested that he might be sent for ; and, at early dawn, the old man, his wife, and another son, were introduced into the chamber. The meeting was a most affectionate one. In the midst of their weeping, Arnold 214 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. Happened to pass the door, and hearing the lamentation, went in. The aged mother immediately fell at his feet, and becrsed the life of her son. " He must die in one hour," said Arnold, and left the room. Instead~of passing out of the passage, he hngered at the door, and after lin gering for a moment, he began to pace backv\''ard and for ward in the passage way, apparently in deep thought. Hi again went in, and again the mother entreated. " Is there no way he can be spared ? We will make any sacrifice, perform any service, only save my poor boy." Arnold hesitated ; on perceiving v»^hich, the mother renewed her entreaties, 'and was seconded by the father and brother. He at length replied, " he can be saved, but the condition is, that he shall proceed immediately to the encampment of St. Leger, and inform him, that General Arnold is com ing with an army of four thousand men, &c., prepared to give immediate battle." The prisoner professed the most cordial acquiescence. " But, you rascal," said Arnold, " I shall not trust you. If you brother will consent to remain an hostage, you may go ; but, mark me, (he continued, with a tremendous oath,) if your report does not send St. Leger upon his back track, your brother's life is forfeited." All acquiesced in this, but the brother, who demurred at the conditions, dis- ti'usting, perhaps, the fidelity of the spy, as well as his skill in framing a report that should produce the desired effect. The entreaties of the mother prevailed here also, and her mgenuity aided the spy in framing the story. Arnold, per ceiving that the matter was arranged, left the room. He had eyed me during the scene, as I stood looking in at the half opened door, and as he passed me, only remarked^ "you know your duty." The father and mother retired. In a few moments an officer came and transferred the irons from one to the other of the brothers, and both were left in the room. A movement among the men below, convinced me that arrangements were making to clear the coast. An old womsm brought a knapsack, and placed it beside the door of the prison room, and presently put into it a slice of fat pork, and about half a loaf of bread. I then retired into a nook, yet so that I could see what was going on. Cuyler presently shouldered the knapsack, passed out. GENERAL ARNOLD AND THE SPY 215 and, after dodging from the corn-house to the barn, skulked to the woods which were near by. Arnold was confident in the success of his artifice. He learned from the spy, that St. Leger was in the vicinity of Fort Scliuyler ; he took up a* rapid march, and the next day at noon, we found ourselves in the British encamp- ment. A most curious spectacle here presented itself. The artillery and baggage of the enemy were left scattered in the utmost confusion ; not a tent was removed, and the fires were actually smoking under their kettles, which con- tained an excellent dinner, ready cooked to our hands They had not been gone an hour when we arrived. Our men partook hastily of the viands left by our hospitable foe, gave three cheers, and then sat about clearing up the encampment. I afterwards learned from Cuyler the particulars of his mterview with St. Leger. On his arrival, he immediately repaired to the tent of the commander, with his hat and his coat pierced with bullet holes for the occasion. He found St. Leger surrounded with the officers and Indian chiefs, and proceeded forthwith to deliver his message, telling a horrible tale of his capture and escape ; of the bullets which had grazed his check and pierced his coat, and withal that Arnold was coming on hke a chafed tiger with a force sufficient to swallow them up. He had not finished his tale, when the Indian chiefs slank away in ter- ror and anger, to convey their tidings to their followers. They had been promised much booty and httle fighting and now, with a prospect of bloody fighting and no booty they broke out in open mutiny. The panic spread from the Indians and officers to the common soldiers, and nothing could now restrain them. They made their escape ;n the most terrified confusion, with barely their arms in their hands. The above affair, although trivial in itself, when com- pared with many others, resulted in the most important events, and was one of the first of that train of circum- stances which indicated a turn in affairs favorable to the American cause, in the struggle for our independence. 216 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. HIGHLAND HONOR. The field of Culloden, and the scenes of cruelty which followed it, though fatal to" the hopes of the Highlanders, who enthusiastically espoused the cause of Charles, yet did not utterly crush their hardy and predatory disposi- tion. The clansmen retired, it is ti je, to the rocky fast- nesses of their secret glens ; but still they mourned their cottages burned, and their wives and children massacred at dead of night, or arrested in melancholy flight by death, amidst the snows of winter. Savage heroism was not altogether subdued within them, by calamities calculated to bend less lofty souls to the very dust of subjection. With them the effect was like that produced by attempting to curb the mountain cataract, — they were divided into small- er and less important bodies, and their power was no longer forcible in its native stream ; but each individual portion seemed to gain a particular character and conse- quence of its own, by separation from the main body, •fi'here it had been undistinguished and unobserved. It was thus that, lurking in little parties, among pine-clad precipices, in caverns known only to themselves, they now waged a minor warfare — that which had the plundering of cattle for its object. But let us not look upon those men, driven as it were to desperation, as we do upon the wretched cow^-stealers of the present day. That which is now considered as one of the basest of crimes, was then, in the eyes of the mountaineer, rather an honorable and chivalrous profession. Nothing was then more creditable than to be the leader of a daring band, to sweep the low country of its live stock, and, above all, it was conceived to be perfectly fair to drive "Morayland where every gentleman had a right to take his prey." It was about this period, and, though it may surprise many, it was not much more than fifty years ago, that Mr. R., a gentleman of the low country of Moray, was awak ened early in a morning by the unpleasing intelligence of the Highlanders having carried oflf the whole of his cat- tle from a distant hill, grazing in Brae Moray, a few miles above the junction of the rapid rivers Findhorn and Levie, HIGHLAND HONOR. 217 and betwecii both. He was an active man, so that, after a few questions put to the breathless messenger, he lost not a moment in summoning and arming several servants : and, instead of taking the way to his farm, he struck at once across the country, in order to get as speedily as pos- sible to a point, where the rocks and woods, hanging ovei the deep bed of the Findhorn, first begin to be crowned by steep and lofty mountains, receding in long and misty perspective. This was the grand pass into the boundless waste frequented by the robbers ; and here Mr. R. forded the river to its southern bank, and took his stand with his httle party, well aware, that if he could not intercept his cattle here, he might abandon all further search after them. The spot chosen for the ambuscade was a beautiful range of scenery, known by the name of the Streens. So deep is the hollow, in many places, that some of the little cottages, with which its bottom is here and there sprinkled, have Gaelic appellations, implying, that they never see the sun. There were no houses near them ; but the party lay concealed amongst some huge fragments of rocks, shivered by the wedging ice of the previous winter, from the summit of a lofty crag, that hung half across the nar- row holm where they stood. A little wav further down the river, the passage was contracted to a rude and scrambling footpath, and behind them the glen was equally confined. Both extremities of the small amphitheatre were shaded by almost impenetrable thickets of birch, hazel, alder, and holly, whilst a few wild pines found a scanty subsistence for their roots, in midway air, on the face of the crags, and were twisted md writhed, for lack of nourishment, into a thousand fantastic and picturesque forms. The serene sun of a beautiful summer's day was declining, and half the narrow haugh was in broad and deep shadow, beautifully contrasted by the brilliant, gol- den light that fell on the wooded bank on the other side of the river Such was the scene where Mr. R. posted his party ; and they had not waited . long, listening in the silence of the evening, when they heard the distant lowing of the cattle, and the wild shouts of the reavers, re-echoed as ihey approached by the surrounding rocks. The sound 19 218 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. came nearer and nearer ; and, at last, the crashing of tho boughs announced the appearance of the more advanced part of the drove, and the animals began to issue slowly from the tangled wood, or to rush violently forth, as the blows or shouts of the drivers were more or less impetuous. As they came out, they collected themselves into a group, and stood bellowing as if unwilling to proceed further. In the rear of the last of the herd, Mr. R. saw, bursting singly from different parts of the brake, a party of fourteen Higii landers, all in the full costume of the mountains, and armed with dirks, pistols, and claymores, and two or three of them cai'rying antique fowling-pieces. Mr. R's party consisted of not more than ten or eleven ; but, telhng them to be firm, he drew them forth from their ambuscade, and ranged them on the green turf. With some exclamations of surprise, the robbers, at the shrill whistle of their leader, rushed forward, and ranged themselves in front of their spoil. Mr. R. and his party stood their ground with deter- mination, whilst the robbers appeared to hold a council of war. At last their chief, a little, athletic man, with long red hair curling over his shoulders, and with a pale and thin, but acute visage, advanced a little way beyond the rest. " Mr. R.," said he, in a loud voice, and speaking good English, though in a Highland accent, " are you for peace or war? If for war, look to yourself; if for peace and treaty, order your men to stand fast, and advance to meet me?' " I will treat," replied Mr. R. ; " but can I trust to your keeping faith V " Trust to the honor of a gentleman !" rejoined the other, with an imperious air. The respective parties wei'e ordered to stand their ground, and the two leaders advanced about seventy or eighty paces each, towards the middle of the space, with theh loaded guns cocked, and presented at each other. A cer tain sum was demanded for the restitution of the cattle : Mr. R. had not so much about him, but he offered to give what money he had in his pocket, being a few pounds short of what the robber had asked. The bargain was con- cluded, — the money paid, — the guns uncocked and shoul- dered, — and the two parties advanced to meet each other in perfect harmony. " And now," said the leader of llie band, " you must look at your beast, to see that none of ONE WHITE MAN TO TWO INDIANS. 219 them be wanting." Mr. R. did so. " They are all here,** said lie, " but one small dun quey " ""Make yourself easy about her," replied the other, " she shall be in your pasture before daylight to-morrow morning." The treaty being thus concluded, the robbers proceeded up the glen, and were soon hid beneath its thick foliage ; whilst Mr. R's people took charge of the cattle, and began to drive them homewards. The reaver was as good as his word ; the next morning the dun quey was seen grazing with the herd. Nobody knew how she came there; but her jaded and draggled appearance bespoke the length and nature of the night journey she had performed. ONE WHITE MAN TO TWO INDIANS. David Morgan, a relative of the celebrated General Daniel Morgan^ settled upon the Monongahela river, during the early part of the revolutionary war, and ventured to occupy a cabin at the distance of several miles from any settlement. One morning, having sent his younger chil- dren out to his field, at a considerable distance from the cabin, he became uneasy about them, and repaired to the field, armed as usual, with his rifle, where he found them. While sitting on the fence, giving them some directions concerning the work, he observed two Indians upon the other side of the field, gazing earnestly upon himself and the children. He instantly called to the latter to run home, while he covered their retreat. The Indians had the decided advantage over Mr. Morgan, not only as two to one, but he was about seventy years of age, and of course, unable to contend with his enemy in running. The cabin was more than a mile distant ; but the children, having upwards of two hundred yards the start, and being effectually covered by their father, they were soon so far m front, tliat the Indians tin^ned their attention entirely to Morgan himself. The old man ran for several hundred yards with an activity which astoni-^hed himself. But per- ceiving that he would be overtaken long before he coula 820 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. reach the cabin, he fairly turned at bay with the enemy and prepared for a serious resistance. The woods, through which they were running, wero very thinly covered with small saplings, behind which it was impossible to obtain shelter. Among them, standing .ike a patriarch, was a large black-jack, which Morgan, after passing about ten steps, determined to regain. The Indians were startled at his sudden advance towards them, and halted among the saplings, behind which, they strove to shelter themselves. This, however, was impossible ; and Morgan, who was an excellent marksman, saw enough of the body of one to justify a shot. He took dehberate aim, pulled the trigger, and the Indian fell, mortally wounded. The other Indian, taking advantage of Morgan's empty gun, sprang from his shelter, and advanced rapidly upon him. The old man, having no time to re-load, was com- pelled to fly a second time ; but being almost exhausted the Indian gained rapidly upon him, and when within twenty yards, fired, but without effect, the ball passing through his coat collar. - He now thought of equal rights, and again stood at bay, drawing his rifle to make a blow, w hile the Indian, dropping his empty gun, advanced rapidly, brandishing his tomahawk. The combatants met. Both struck at the same time, with effect. Morgan broke the breech of his rifle over the head of the Indian, and the latter cut off two of the old man's fingers with his toma- hawk. Both now became disarmed, equal rights still pre- vailing. The Indian, attempting to draw his knife, Morgan grasped him by the head, and bore him to the ground, on which, a furious struggle ensued. The old man's strength soon failed, and the Indian succeeded in turning him. Planting one knee on the breast of Morgan, and yelling loudl)% as is the custom among them on the turn of for- tune, he again felt for his knife, in order to terminate the struggle at once. But having lately stolen a woman's apron, and tied it round his waist, his knife was so con- fined, that he had great difficulty in finding the handle. Morgan, in the meantime, understanding how to play eels m the mud, according to the custom of Virginia, and per- fectly at home, when undermost, taking advantage of the KING PHILIP, DESTRUCTION OP A PIRATE SHIP. 223 Indian's awkwardness, got one of his fingers between hia teeth, and at the same time slipped his thumb into hi? eye. The latter tugged and roared, struggling to extricate him- self, but all in vain. Morgan, still keeping his hold, by this time, began to assist him in hunting for his knife. Each seized it at the same time, the Indian by the blade, and Morgan by the handle, but with a very slight hold. The Indian began (o draw it from the sheath, when Morgan, giving his finger & furious bite, twitched the knife dexterously through his hand, cutting it severely. Both now sprang to their feet Morgan brandishing his knife and holding on to the finger of the Indian. In vain the latter now struggled to get away, braying and ranting like an unbroken jack, when at length the old man succeeded in giving him a stab in the side with the knife. The Indian received it without fall- ing, the knife having struck one of the ribs ; but a second blow, aimed at the stomach, proved effectual, and he fell. Morgan thrust the knife, handle and all, into the cavity, directing it upwards to the heart ; then walked deliberately to his cabin, with the loss only of two fingers. DESTRUCTION OF A PIRATE SHIP. To windward in the east, the deep blue of the sky had begun to be broken by the faintest tinge of light, while before its pale silvery line of gray, the herald of the day's approach, the stars seemed counseling the night to with- draw. In the middle of this dim gleam, I beheld a dark mass uprearing itself. It was the seventy-four in chase of the pirate, on board which Will Watch and I were captured. With the most beautiful effect which it is pos- sible to conceive, a sudden gleam of flame bursting from its base, seemed to spread itself over the whole space of sea and sky ; tlie plunging of a shot about half a mile to windward, and the heavy, sullen sound succeeding, an- nounced that our pursuer had commenced firing. Look- ing, on the instant, towards the quarter-deck, to see how this summons would be received by Mackay, the captaio 224 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. of the pirate, I saw him standing by the wheel with up- turned eyes, momentarily expecting to see some of his spars go overboard, or it might have been ransacking that receptacle and engenderer of guilty thoughts, his brain, for some new resource against approaching fate. If thus employed, it was in vain. His ship had been beaten on her best point of sailing. For a quarter of an hour after the first gun, no further notice was taken of us, than by her continuing to bear gradually down. At the end of this time, one, two, three successive flashes, again lit up the scene around us, with uncommon grandeur and beauty : nor was that all — the flash was succeeded by a sudden tear, and crack went some of the canvass aloft, rending it into strips. I looked up ; a ball had passed through the leach of the weather fore-top-mast-studding-sail, and the wind following up the mischief which the shot had begun, m two seconds reduced the sail to rags. The captain re- garded the spectacle with a mingled iook of fury and de- spair, which would beggar all description. He uttered no sound, but stooping down, as I thought, to hide his coun- tenance, he patted the head of his spaniel, which w^as sit- ting at his feet ; while I heard him say to the hehnsman, in a husky voice, " Take that poor creature below, and tie her up out of the way of them devil's messengers," meaning the shots ; after which little trait of kindness,*he took the steerage into his own hand, and cried out, in a sullen voice, " All hands shorten sail I Aft here, Roberts, and hoist the red ensign." The studding-sails were now, by his orders, successively taken in, and the top-gallant-sails clewed up, when the ship's canvass being sufficiently reduced, he rounded hoi to the wind, and hove the raain-topsail aback. After this. he called his mate aft, and gave some orders, which the latter executed, by placing several of the crew in different stations. I, in the meanwhile, had been lying perdu, as it were, " among the pots," wondering not a little that he had never asked for one, whose existence so strongly threat- ened his own. The seventy-four, for such as Will had pronounced her she now appeared to be came rapidly up with us ; nor since her last summons, had she fired another shot. Before day had well broken, she too had shortenea DESTRUCTION OP A PIRATE SHIP. 225 sail, and hove to, at the distance of six hundred yards, iipon our quarter. Having us now pretty safe, she low- ered down one of her barges, and manning it, sent a lieu- tenant and a midshipman to board us. How wildly my heart beat at this sight ! my breath seemed to be impeded by my excess of joy, at this approaching deliverance. Scarcely did I permit the lieutenant to ascend from the boat, and gain a footing on the quarter-deck, where the captain was waiting to receive him, when I rushed forward, threw myself between them, and claimed the officer's pro- tection. At this sight of me, Mackay, who before seemed cowed beneath the weight of his own guilt, now became transported with the most deadly rage. Stepping aside, and swinging round his head an iron bar — a monkey-tail which he had hitherto kept behind his back, I suppose, for the demolition of the lieutenant — he struck directly at me. Shrinking myself, however, into as small a space as possible, I darted on one side to escape the blow, which thus fell upon one of Mackay's own "gang," and so effec- tually was the poor fellow's skull cleft, that he fell instan- taneously dead upon the deck. Incensed at this outrage, the lieutenant's sword was in a moment drawn, and point- ed at the captain's throat. " Sway away the mainyard," roared Mackay, to his crew, who, it seems, had been ready primed for this occasion, and now surrounded the king's officer so closely, that it was impossible to get at the chief object of his vengeance. The captain flew to the gangway, where one of his men was opposing the entrance of the barge's bowman ; and thrusting at the seaman with all his strength, the blow hurled the poor fellow back into his boat ; he at the same time, knocking down two of the boat's crew, who were epringing up to their officer's assistance. Under these vvere thus buried the boat-hooks that had held the barge fast alongside, while the captain's order for swinging the mainyard, having been instantly obeyed, the ship had, in a few seconds, gathered sufficient way, to drop them ten or twenty yards astern, while all their pulling availed them not to regain their former position. No sooner, however, did Will Watch, who was on the weather-gangway, hear the scuffle to leeward, than he sprang to our assistance, 226 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. but not until the barge alongside had been detached by the attack of Mackay. The last named personage, looking round for me, encountered Will, face to face. Between these two, a desperate struggle now began. Size was rather in favor of the captain, but youth, strength, and activity w^ere possessed by Will Watch, in a greater de- gree. The crew, fancying, however, that the latter had met more than his match, seemed to direct all their animo- sity against the lieutenant, who, most gallantly combating with his sword, the disproportioned host assailing on all sides with every species of weapon, was being slowly borne by his foes to the taffrail, though every backstop he took was followed by a stream of blood. One fellow only, it seems, thought of me, as I lay alone, half-stunned, among the guns, where I had been thrown in the scuffle. See-. ing this wretch approach — a drawn claspknife in his hand — I suppose with the kindly purpose of despatching me, I sprang upon one knee, and, as the villain stooped down, drew Will's pistol from my breast, and presenting it at his, fired. Not until I felt myself borne down by his falling body, and weltering in his blood, did 1 know what I had done. Then it was, I suppose, the dash of the Black Douglas first showed itself in my disposition. Jumping on my feet, I seized the first object that presented itself as a weapon of defense, and looked round to see who should be my next assailant. To my horror, I was just in time to behold the unfortunate lieutenant hurled overboard from our weather-quarter, when the villains who perpetrated this outrage, made a rush in a body towards me. My days are over, thought I, as with all the fortitude I could summon, I awaited my approaching fate. To my utter surprise, I beheld them, one and all, with terror in their countenances, dart down the companion-ladder, to the deck below. Thus left to myself, I endeavored to discover the cause to which I owed my safety, and beheld the seventy-four, her enormous spread of canvass distended by the powerful breeze, tearing across the waves towards us, like some infuriated giant of the deep, now within so short a distance on our quarter, as to form, without any exaggeration, a sight at once terrific and sublime. The object of fear fromi which the pirate's men had fled. DESTRUCTION OP A J?IRATE SHIP. 227 was sufficiently obvious. Swarming on her forecastle, her bowsprit, and fore-shrouds, appeared her grim-visaged crew, their naked cutlasses in their hands, ready to pour upon our devoted decks. " Will Watch !" I shouted, in the utmost despair, believing that he must be lying wound- ed, or perhaps even dead, near me, and that I alone was on deck. No one answered me, and I, scarcely knowing what I did, or what to do, sprang over to windward, where, the first object that struck my eye, was Will, locked in a death struggle with Mackay. The expression of their coun- tenances was horrible to behold ! Their eyes seemed start- ing from their heads — Will's, as if with the fell intensity of his rage ; Mackay's, from the agony of his despair 1 The activity and strength of Watch, had, as I expected, told well in the encounter with his bulkier opponent, who, with his back bent round upon the steerage wheel, his feet entan- gled with its ropes, his head jammed in between its spokes, and his face rapidly growing pui-ple from the suffocating grasp which Will maintained upon his throat, seemed like the Bengal titter in the strangling embrace of the more slight, but deadly boa. " Port your helm ! — port — hard-a- port !" shouted a hundred voices from the approaching seventy-four, their hoarse accents of command mingling with the roar of waters, the crashing of spars, and an in- finity of other sounds. " Watch ! Watch !" I exclaimed, frantically clasping my hands, ignorant of what to do, and unable to withdraw my gaze from the horrid struggle going on before me. Will replied not a word, but scowled upon his foe with eyes that only seemed to regret they had not the power, as fully as the wish, to slay. Without loosening his deadly hold, he looked around for some speedier mode of destruction ; then, catching a sight ot the approaching line-of-battle ship, something, with tne speed of lightning, appeared to flash across his mind, asf with one hand he rapidly untied a silk handkerchief from his waist. At this moment, a sudden crash seemed to shiver the vessel into a thousand atoms, and the shock threw me with a violent blow upon the deck. I looked up — the figure-head of the seventy-four was directly over me, her cutwater grinding us into the yeast of waves be neath. " Watch — Will Watch ! for mercy's sake 1" but 228 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. before I could utter another word, some one lifted me *«; his arms, and springing on the sinking bulwark of our prison-ship, caught hold of one of the man-of-war's ropes, hanging from above, and by this means seated himself upon the protruding muzzle of one of her guns. Frightfully insecure as was such a station, I did indeed feel thankful for attaining even that ; and, looking round to see who had thus rescued me, found, to my inexpressible joy, that I was again indebted to my old friend. Will. Panting from the deadly contest in which he had been so recently engaged, he was only able to point to the scene on the deck of our late tyrants below. I shudder even to recall it, Writhing upon the steerage-wheel, to which his neck was bound by Will's silk handkerchief, and struggling in vain to get free — his blackened and distorted face the image of despair and guilt, and his hand uplifted in appeal to those whom he had taught any lesson but that of iriercy — I beheld Mackay whirled head downwards, by a sudden movement of his ship's rudder, which left no part of him visible, save his feet, struggling in the air. In the next instant, the seventy-four, like some vindictive and relent- less monster of the deep, seemed to ride over the crushed decks of the pirate, with her stem ; and while her crew were starting from their hiding-places, with ghastly looks of horror, she disappeared swiftly from our view beneath, A mass of wreck amid the foaming surge — a slight per ceptible grating of the keel for a second or two, over the finking and dissevered hull, was all that seemed to evi- dence the fact to our senses ; and the line-of-battle ship sprang on, upon the blue bosom of each succeeding wave as uninterruptedly as if, within a few brief seconds, she had not despatched so many human beings to their irrevo cable doom 1 A TRAGEDY IN REAL LIFE. The vicinity of the northern provinces of the kingdom of Naples, to the papal territories, and the ease with which mp-IsHactors of both countries respectively gain ap 20 A TRAGEDY IN REAL LIFE. 231 asylum, by passing the frontiers, opened a door to the commission of the most flagitious acts. Conversing one day at Portici, on this subject, with Lady Hamilton, she related to me the following story, which I shall endeavor to give in her words : — About the year 1743, a person of the name of Ogilvie, an Irishman by birth, who practised surgery with great reputation at Rome, and who resided not far from the " Piazza di Spagna," in that city, being in bed, was called up to attend some strangers, who demand ed his professional assistance. They stopped before hi house in a coach ; and on his going to the door, he found two masked men, by whom he was desired to accompany them immediately, as the case which brought them ad- mitted of no delay, and not to omit taking with him his lancets. He complied, and got into the coach ; but, no sooner had they quitted the street in ■ vhich he resided, than they informed him that he must submit to have his eyes bandaged ; the person to whom they were about to con- duct him being a lady of rank, whose name and place of abode it was indispensable to conceal. To this requisition he likev^'ise submitted ; and after driving through a num- ber of streets, apparently with a view to prevent his form- ing any accurate idea of the part of the city to which he was conducted, the carriage at length stopped. The two gentlemen, his companions, then alighted, and each taking him by the arm, conducted him into a house. Ascending a narrow stair-case, they entered an apartment, where he was released from the bandage tied over his eyes. One of them next acquainted him, that it being necessary to put out of life a lady who had dishonored her family, they had chosen him to perform the office, knowing his profes- sional skill ; that he would find her in the adjoining cham- ber, prepared to submit to her fate ; and that he must open her veins with as much expedition as possible ; a service, for the execution of which, he should receive a liberal recompense. Ogilvie, at first, peremptorily refused to commit an act so highly repugnant to his feeUngs. But the two strangers assured him, with solemn denunciations of vengeance, that his refusal could only prove fatal to himself, without afford- ing the slightest assistance to the object of his compassion ; 232 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. that her doom was irrevocable, and that, unless he chosf to participate in a similar fate, he must submit to execute the office imposed on him. Thus situated, and finding ab entreaty or remonstrance vain, he entered the room, where he found a lady of a most interesting figure and appear- ance, apparently in the bloom of youth. She was habited in a loose undress, and immediately afterwards, a female attendant p.'aced before her a large tub, filled with warm water, in which she immersed her feet. Far from oppos- ing any impediment to the act which she knew he was? sent to perform, the lady assured him of her perfect resig- nation, entreatin«^ him to put the sentence passed upon her into execution, with as little delay as possible. She added, that she was well aware no pardon could be hoped for from those who had devoted her to death, which alone could expiate her trespass ; felicitating herself that his hu- manity would abbreviate her sufferings, and soon terminate their duration. After a short conl^i^.t with his own mind, perceiving nc means of extrication cr escape, either for the lady or him- self; being moreover rirged to expedite his work by the two persons without, who, nnpatient at his reluctance, threatened to exercise violence on him, if he procrasti- nated, Ogilvie took out h,'g lancet, opened her veins, and bled her to death in a short time. The gentlemen having carefully examined the body, in order to ascertain that she was no more, after expressirg their satisfaction, offered him a purseof zechins,as a remuneration ; but he declined all recompense, only requesting to be conveyed from 9 scene on which he could not reflsct without horror. With this entreaty they complied ; and hiving again applied the bandage to his eyes, they led him dcvm the same staircase to the carriage. But, it being narrcw, in descending, he contrived to leave on one or both of the walls, unperceived by his conductors, the marks of his fiDgers, which were stained with blood. After observing pi^^.autions similar to those used in bringing him thither froff his own house he was conducted home ; and, in parting, the two mask? charged him, if he valued his life, never to divulge, and if possible, never to think of the past transact'ow Thej? added, that if he should embrace any measures whh » A TRAGEDY IN REAL LIFE. 233 View to render it public, or to set on foot an inquiry into it, he should be infallibly immolated to their revenge. Hav- mg finally dismissed him at his own door, they drove off, leaving him to his own reflections. On the subsequent morning, after great irresolution, he determined, at whatever risk to his personal safety, not to participate by concealing so enormous a crime. It formed, nevertheless, a delicate and difficult undertaking to sub- stantiate the charge, as he remained altogether ignorant of the place to which he had been carried, or of the name and quality of the lady whom he had deprived of life Without suffering himself, however, to be deterred by these considerations, he waited on the secretary of the apostolic chamber, and acquainted him with every parti- cular ; adding, that if the government would extend to him protection, he did not despair of finding the house, and of bringing to light the perpetrators of the deed. Benedict XIV., [Lambertini,] who then occupied the papal chair, had no sooner received the information than he immedi- ately commenced the niost active measures for discovering the offenders. A guard of the sbirn, or officers of justice, was appoint- ed by his order to accompany Ogilvie ; who, judging from various circumstances, that he had been conveyed out of the city of Rome, began by visiting the villas scattered without the walls of that metropolis. His search proved ultimately successful. In the villa Papa Julie, constructed by Pope Julius III., [del monte,'] he found the bloody marks left on the wall by his fingers, at the same time that he re- cognized the apartment in which he had put to death the lady. The palace belonged to the Duke de Bracciano, the chief of which illustrious family, and his brother, had committed the murder on the person of their own sister ! They no sooner found that it was discovered, than they fled to the city of London, where they eluded the pursuit of justice. After remaining there for some time, they ob- tained a pardon, by the exertions of their powerful friends, on payment of a considerable fine to the apostolic cham- ber, and under the further condition of affixing over the chimney-piece of the room where the crime had been per- petrated, a plate of copper, commemorating the transac- 20* 234 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. tion, and their penitence. This plate, together with the inscription, still continued to exist there, till within these few years. RETRIBUTION. During the revolution, which conferred the blessings of independence upon the once flourishing, but oppressed colonies of Great Britain, many outrages were committed on the defenseless inhabitants of our country, against all the laws of humanity and civilization. Among such we may number the subject of the present sketch. It is one which is revolting to every tender feehng of the breast, but which shows that ingratitude does not always fail of meet- ing the vengeance due to a crime so dark. On a bleak and tempestuous night, a lone widow and hei son were seated at the cottage fireside, the former busily employed in knitting stockings, to provide against the piercing cold of tne approachmg winter. From beneath a neat, yet plain and homely cap, her gray locks fell, tinged with the sorrows and the snows of more than sixty win- ters ; her dress was formed of the coarsest materials, but the tidy manner of its adjustment indicated the strict economist, and the careful housewife. The son appeared to be about eighteen years of age. His form gave evidence of a robust and active constitu- tion ; the ruddy cheek, the sparkling eye, and the benig- nant cast of his countenance, told the character of his heart. Ardently devoted to his only remaining parent, each look from her was a command, and every expression was watched with a desire to promote her comfort. In short, he was the staff which supported her in her desolate and toilsome journey down the vale of years. Sitting by the fireside, she conversed with her son, and thanked heaven, that although poverty was their lot, still they had honesty and loyalty to sweeten it. They were startled by a loud knocking at the door, and, at the hospi- table welcome of " Enter, in God's name," a dragoon, clad in the livery of England, entered the iowly cot, followed RETRIBUTION. 235 by a dozen more, in the same dress. They were a party detached from the main body of British, to intercept some provisions which were on their way to the American camp. But their search had proved unsuccessful ; and, during the whole day, they had not tasted a morsel of any thing. Hungry, fatigued, and irritated at their ill success, they had come upon the widow's house, determined to procure something to satisfy their appetites. Sergeant Holsey (for that was the name of their leader) presented an exterior which seemed to have borne the brunt of many a hard contest. His visage was seamed with scars, and a large pair of black whiskers added a ferocity to his appearance, which was sufficiently terrific by nature. " Rouse up, old crone," he cried, addressing the widow, " and give me and my men wherewithal to appease our hunger. Here, younk- er, let our horses have some hay, and see that you rub them down well." The dame was nothing daunted by this incivility, but directing her son William to supply the strangers with Indian corn, she placed before them a dish of new milk ; at the same time assuring them, that it was all her stock. The captain of the party inquired, with seeming kindness, " how she lived V " Indeed," quoth she, " the cow and a few hills of corn, are all I own." He rose, ordered the cow to be killed, and the corn to be cut down. The good dame threw herself at his feet, and besought him, for the sake of the mother that bore him, not to de- prive her of her all, but take some mercy on her infirmi- ties. But she might as well have appealed to the sur- roifhding rocks, as to the hard heart of Holsey. He but frowned sternly, and repeated his order. It was impossible for filial affection any longer to en- dure diis scene of cruelty ; and standing up to the source of their woe, his face flushed with anger, and his eye dart- oig fire. William thus addressed him : — " Does the king we honor and serve, permit such cruelties to be inflicted on his peaceable subjects 1 and are such monsters, with impunity, allowed to visit and plunder the honest citizens of these colonies ? Mark my words. The day ma7/ come when the blood of your innocent victim, whom you have hurried to an untimely grave, shall return upon your head, with tenfold vengeance." The soldier listened contemptu- 236 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. ously during this harangue ; then, without noticing it i-ar ther than by a slight exclamation, he ordered his troop to remmnt. And soon the retiring sounds of the horses' feei, told Sh*^ family that their persecutors had left them. liat the cup of their misery was not yet full ; in a few days, the widow was consigned to the dust, dying of a broken heart : and the disconsolate youth, her son, wan- dered away beyond the inquiring of friends or the search of compassion. Years rolled on ; and in that time great changes had taken place with regard to our young hero. The desire of roA enge still burnt in his bosom, and, as a more certain mode of discovering the enemy of his peace, he enlisted under the banner of England. AH attempts to trace him were, however, in vain ; still the desire was not diminished. But vengeance was yet to come ; that fire which slept within him, was yet to have fuel to be consumed before its power. He was one day in company with some bro- ther officers, who were making merry with wine, and recounting their exploits. "I," cried one of the dragoons, " once starved an t)ld witch in America ; I killed her cow, and rr>aped her corn, and soon after I heard that she had gone off herself." " I thank you," cried William, his lips quivei'ing, his voice faltering, and his whole frame trembling with rage. "Be- lieve me, it is the only happy moment I have known for Sjars. Draw 1 villain ; that ivo?nan was my mother i raw 1 ere I send thy dastard soul to the torments it so justly merits. I only live to meet thee ; that fondest wish is accomplished, now, welcome death." They fought, and the sword of the young man passed twice through the body of the dragoon ; he fell heavily to the ground, and expired. " Thus," cried William, as he gazed on the bloody corpse of his enemy, " thus may the retribution of Heaven evei fall on such as thou." EXECUTION IN THE HAREM. 237 EXECUTION IN THE HAREM. ""When 1 saw her, she was sitting, in her fine clothes, on a dirty mat, in a corner of the room in which she haa been confined. She did not weep, and there was no ex- pression of deep anguish in her countenance ; neither could I say that it betrayed any signs of fear. Her large, dark, hazel eyes, (what things I have seen rolling about m them !) were fixed on the opposite corner of the apart- ment. She was pale, and some disorder of her hair, and of her dress, showed that she had suffered violence, a.nd told that she was a prisoner. You might have taken hei for a pensive lunatic, or for an imprudent girl, who had been detected in forbidden company ; but never would you have guessed that she was a prisoner for murder. So much calmness with her dejection. How softly her long black eyelashes seemed to repose on her fair cheek, as she sat with her eyes half closed ! How delicate, and downy, and smooth, the pale cheek on which those eyelashes rest- ed — how beautiful the whole countenance — how fine the expression — with much in it of pride, and more of gentle- ness ! Can it be that such a creature is a murderer ? I fear — I fear it is too true. What lovely skins some snakes are allowed to wear !" My companion ceased ; and as we approached the room in which she was confined, I per- ceived some commotion about the door, arid heard the sound of harsh voices. As I crossed the threshold of the ante-room, a shrill scream pierced me through, and made my heart flutter with agitation. Still I joined the execra- tions which were poured upon the prisoner. Before I had yet got within sight of her, (for the crowd was considera- ble.) I could hear a low, indistinct, suppressed moaning. Pushing forward a little further, I saw two men bending over the culprit, who lay prostrate on the floor. One of them held firmly, with his left hand, the ear of the wretched girl, and in his right, brandished a large knife, which, from time to time, he applied to her ear, or to her throat, to extort from her answers to the questions he had put to her. One of his knees was planted on her tender neck, and, ever and anon, he threw his whole weight upon it, till I 238 EXPLOITS AVfD ^VENTURES. thought it must have broken under him. I shut my eves in disgi'.st at a spectacle so revolting ; but scarcely nau done io, when another scream forced me to open them. The tirst thing that met my sight was her delicate white ear, now sprinkled with blood, which the merciless man had severed from her head, and held up in triumph, with a fearfu^. smile of self-complacency. I looked down, and saw the horrible v/ound, the blood pouring from it down her necl", and over her cheek and long locks. The man- gled head was still pressed down by the kne*^, of the exe* cutioner ; and though I could not see her face, there was an expression of even more dreadful import at such atirae^ in the convulsive movements of her frame. They deliberately rolled her over on the other side Her hair was hanging loose, and her countenance was so covered with it and with her blood, that I could distinguish nothing of her features ; but the struggling, suffocating op- pression of her breathing, was unendurable. Some tried to keep up their ferocity by ejaculations of the coarsest kind, but few joined them ; and I could hear the shortened breathing of every one around me. The kniie was again brandished. Many questions were put, but no reply was given. " Are you so obstinate ?" demanded the executioner ; " are you determined to an- swer none of my questions 1 Then Bishmillaul Rackhman ul Raheem:" (In the name of God, the most merciful, the most benevolent ;) and as he uttered the words, a single stroke of his knife separated the other ear from her head ; but no scream, no moan followed ; no struggle could be perceived. Some said she was dead, some that she had fainted ; I hoped the first was true, but I was mistaken. Slowly she began to revive, and her hair had been re- moved from her face, and a cup of water thrown over it ; they raised her up, and she sat, for a time, bewildeied ; at length a checked respiration marked the return of ccm sciousness. I saw it, and felt, at that instant, a pang which I had never felt before. I knew that the sentence which had been passed upon her had not yet been fulfilled, and that she had yet much to suffer, before she was led to end the last scene of hear existence. She knew it, too, and mv heart bled for her EXECUTION IN THE HAREM. 239 though I tried to fortify it by painting to myself her crime and her depravity, in the most revolting and irritating point of view; but it would not do, — and I felt, that had the power been in my hands, her punishment would now have ended ; I felt, too, the wisdom of the ancient custom, according to which, all offenders .should receive their pun- ishment in the presence of the judge who has condemned them to suffer it, whether he be king or governor, and lamented that in this instance it had been set aside ; for I knew that the Shah had a merciful heart, more merciful than any prince who had ever sst on the throne of Persia, though his servants, alas 1 had no pity in their bosoms. They returned to their work — one of them thrust his knife between her teeth, and forced open her jaws ; she tried to struggle, but she was faint and weak, and even had she not been so, any resistance she could have made would equally have been in vain. Her mouth was forced open, and then they fixed an iron hook in her tongue, and drew it out — her bosom heaved as if it would have burst, a cold sweat stood upon her brow, her eyes glared wildly, and she uttered an agonizing cry, like the laugh of a maniac — it was but an instant, and then, that portion of her tongue which protruded, was cut off, and hung, like a bit of cold, raw flesh, upon the hook. Her tortures were now over, for a while, and I felt relieved : but when she asked for water, the hollow mum- bling which issued from the bloody, empty cavern of her mouth, was to me more heart-rending than all I had seen her endure. With a composure which calmed us all, she washed her own wounds and her hair, and hastily arranged her disor- dered dress ; then returned to the mat on which I had feen her seated in the morning. Her countenance gradu- .'iilly resumed the expression it had then borne, and, as the handkerchief, which she throw over her head, covered her wounds, you could have discovered nothing but the blood upon the floor, by which to guess what had happened. I returned home, exhausted with the excitement, and with the heat and pressure of the crowd, and related to my family, with an air of indifference, and even of triumph, Uie punishment of the wretch who had poisoned her mi* 240 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. tress My women lavished upon her every opprobnous epithet they could think of, and almost provoked me to say something in her behalf; but I thought it more prudent to dwell on the horrors of the punishment, which, what- ever might have -been the feelings of my listeners, extracted nothing but assurances that it was well merited — assur- ances which I could not help suspecting, were intended rather to screen themselves from suspicion, than to express v», '^at was in their hearts. 1 had been obliged, in a great measure against my will, to witness the horroi's of the preceding evening ; and it now seemed probable that I should be forced, in the same way, to be present at the execution this morning. * * * The certainty of being obliged to witness the execution, now appeared to me to be a much smaller evil than I had at first considered it, and my whole attention was directed to preserving myself from being thrown down and tram- pled to death by the crowd which carried me along with it. We had not, however, far to go ; for, as every body knows, the place of execution is not twenty paces from the gate of the ark. When we halted, I found myself en- closed in a dense ring of spectators, in the midst of which stood a great brass mortar, raised on a mound of ea.ih, and, beside it, stuck in the ground, was a linstock with a lighted match. The nussukchees ranged themselves on each side of this horrible engine ; and it was not without some difficulty that I succeeded in gaining a position which appeared to me to secure me from the danger attending the explosion, and its consequences, when it should take place. Having taken my station, I began to look around me, and saw the officers of justice still pouring into the circle, which was widened for their reception, by dint ot blows. After them, or rather between two of them, came the prisoner. She was enveloped, from head to foot, in a black robe, which also covered her face. Her step was firm, and her carriage stately. She frequently spoke a few words to an eunuch, w4io accompanied her ; but the noise was so great, that I could hear nothing of their dis- course. As she approached, the spectators became more quiet : and when she had reached the mortar, not a sound was *o be heard. Taking advantage of the silence, sha EXECUTION IN THE HAREM. • 24l spoke aloud, with a distinctness and composure that aston islied every one, and made her words intelligible to all.* " I am a tool," she said, " and suffer for a crime which was not originated by me. I have been deceived, but I have sworn to be secret, and I scorn to betray my friends. Tell the whole harem, that tortures have extracted from me no confessions, and that the near approach of death, in nc most appalling form, has not shaken my soul. " I know that they, whose characters I have preserved at the price of my life, are, at this moment, longing foi the sound which will announce that I am no more, and trembling lest I should redeem my hfe by sacrificing theirs It is no matter. They will know better what I was, when all is over. " Tell the king that, had he used me more gently, I might have been induced to warn him of dangers from which he cannot now protect himself. But I thank him for his cruelty. Had he left me a life better worth pre- serving, I might have been tempted to redeem it, even by betraying my accomplices ; but he has taken from me the wish to live, and, king as he is, he cannot now tempt m.Q to be false." The officer, perceiving that her wild address made some impression upon the multitude, here interrupted her She made no attempt to proceed, but resigned herself into their hands. They led her in front of the mortar, and yet her step never faltered — neither did she speak or implore, as it is common for even men to do in her situation ; neither did she curse, as some do — neither did she weep. They told her to kneel down, with her breast against the muzzle, * This statement, made even by so respectable a person as the Mcerza, is somewhat starthng. We can scarcely, in this country, imagine a lady whose tongue had been cut out in the evening, addressing a crowd the next morning, with an articulation which made her quite intelhgible. Yet there can be no doubt that this woman actually did so. Instances of persons speaking intelligibly, whose tongues have been cut out, are numerous in Persia. It is singular enough, that those who ha\'e lost only the lip of the tongue, are often unable to make themselves under, stood, while those who have lost a much larger portion, speak almost dm tmctly. This circumstance is so well known, that a second amputation o/ a tongue, which has been sparingly dealt with by the executioner, is oftea ftfsorted to. 21 242 ^EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. and she did so. They put cords around her wnsts, and bound them to stakes which had been driven for tnat pur- pose — still she showed no signs of emotion — she laid her head upon the mortar, and waited her fate with a compo- sure, which a soldier might have envied. At length, the signal was given — the match was raised — it descended slowly — and, at the moment when it was about to touch the powder, an audible shudder ran through the crowd. The priming caught fire — a moment of sickening suspense followed — a groan burst from the spectators — the smoke passed away — no explosion followed — and the unfortunate wretch rais^id her head, to see what had happened. A faint liope glimmered in my own heart that this was, perhaps, a device to save her life ; but it was not permit- ted to live long. It had scarcely began to rise within me, when I saw the priming renewed, and the match raised again. The condemned wretch laid her head once more on its hard pillow, and uttered a low groan, as if her spirit had parted. It had scarcely been uttered, w^hen the ex- plosion took place, and the smoke covered every thing ii'om my view. As it gradually cleared away, it drew a veil from over a horrid and revolting spectacle. The two bodiless arms hung, with their mangled and blackened ends, from the stakes to which they had been bound ; and a few yards distant lay a scorched and shattered foot and leg. No trace of body or of head remained, and a few tattered remnants of clothes were all besides that were left. The arms were unbound from the stakes, and two women, who had issued from the ark at the sound of the explosion, rushed to the spot, seized them, and, concealing them under their veils, hurried to the harem, with these proofs that the demands of justice had been fulfilled. THE PANTIIER HUNTER On the banks of the beautiful Susquehannah, lived, some years ago, an individual whose life had been devoted to the woods and the storm. He had grown old in the forest, THE PANTHER HUNTER. 243 but like the aged and knotty oak, a vestige still remained of his antiquity and hardihood. When 1 saw him first, he reminded me of a dilapidated and deserted fortress decaying, but still strong. I courted his acquaintance, and many is the time that I have warmed myself, during the drearj^ months, at the brigl:it fire the industry of age haa kindled. I loved the old man, but that love could not have originated in pity for his misfortunes — no, he was happy as spring birds ! The only regret he ever expressed was, that the " clearings" around, had driven away the game, He was himself a pioneer of the forest, and civilization had deprived him of half its charms, yet he would tell over the tales of his eventful life, and weep and laugh as he recol- lected them. " Oh," said he once to me, " 1 have seen the foot-prints of the Indian and the panther, where now tha fields are white with harvest ; they have passed away with the wildness, and my own gray head will soon lie down m dust. I must not murmur — yet I shall be the last who has witnessed nature on this spot, in her simple and soli- tary grandeur ; but if I could once again exhibit a pan- ther-skin, as the trophy of my age, I could even forget that "******** The day was fast waning away, and the shades of the surrounding trees enveloped the watchful hunter, as he paced the margin of an almost inaccessible ravine, eager to discover his prey ; but the panther appeared not, and he began to fear he had been doomed to watch in vain. At length, he leaned his rifle against a tree, and commenced partaking a scanty repast he had provided ; all was still around him — his dog lay quietly by his rifle — a few yards beyond him the clear and sparkling waters of the West Branch might be seen meandering in loveliness, beneath the craggy bank or precipice, lifting itself towards the skies. more than a hundred feet. Thitherward the hunter stray- ed, iOoking upon the stream and valley below, crimsoned by tne setting sun, while thoughts of other days chased one another across his brain, as summer clouds cast their flick- ering shadows over a harvest field. He was aroused from his lethargy by a rustling in the shrubbery near him, and turning, he beheld a panther cross his path. He shudder- ed, for his rifle still leaned against the tree, where he left 244 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. it, and the panther was between him and that tree. "Oh God," he cried, " be thou merciful to me." The animal seen.ed to have observed him, and springing into the tree with a growl, now surveyed the horror-stricken hunter, while his fierce and fiery gaze made him recoil to the very brink of the precipice. He cast his eyes over the abyss — there was no retreat — death stared him in the face on either side, and he gave himself up to the hopelessness of despair. Yet there might he hope — he held his knife in one hand, whilst, unconscious of what he did, he firmly grasped a small sapling with the other; his dog, however instead of relieving his fears, only excited them, irritating his foe by an angry bark, as it lay crouched upon the limb like a cat, ready to spring upon her prey ; but still his spring was delayed, as if it felt conscious that its prey was sure, and a pleasure in holding its victim in terrific sus- pense. At length, ripping up the bark with a ferocious and quick growl, it drew its recumbent length together, then suddenly expanding itself, sprang through the air to- wards its victim. The hunter, who had eagerly watched its motions, with a shriek of horror sprang aside, but fortu- nately held to the sapling with an almost convulsive grasp. The sharp claws of the animal fixed in his clothing, and seemed nigh to have carried him headlong with it over the dread abyss — for a moment, it seemed that the panther would recover its footing, but with an intuitive presence of mind, the old man ripped asunder his clothing, and it fell from crag to crag, marking the sharp projection of the rocks with its blood, till the welcome sound of its fall to the earth, struck on his ears, as joyfully as the sound of liberty to the captive. He rushed forward to his rifie, fearful, perhaps, that life was not extinct in his enemy. Soon, however, the contents of his piece were lodged in the head of his foe, while a prayer went up to heaven from his lips, in gratitude for his preservation. The hunter ex- hibited his trophy, but the terror and toil had been too great — he expired in a short time after. FEMALE HEROISM EXEMPLIFIED. 245 FEMALE HEROISM EXEMPLIFIED. The female character, when life passes smootn ana tranquil, appears to be made of tenderness and depend- ence. It shrinks from the gaze of the rude, and recoils from the slightest touch of the impudent. But however it may appeal to these circumstances, certain it is, when dangers impend, traits of heroism and intrepidity dart on amid this tenderness and dependence, like lightning from the soft fleecy clouds of a summer's evening. So, when we stand by the ocean's side, and view its smooth and tranquil bosom, we little suspect the energy of its waves, when lashed into fury by the winds ! The following fact confirms these remarks: In the year 1750, Henry and Emily, a new married pair, and children of wealthy parents, in Boston, left their paternal abode, determined to effect a permanent settle- ment at a place called Dedham, Mass. Emily had been brought up in the midst of afiiuence, and was unacquainted with distress and poverty, only in the abstract. Her char- acter was made of all those qualities which we most admire m her sex ; but no one would have suspected the presence of those which her subsequent life so abundantly evinced. After the lapse of five years, their house and farm pre- sented the appearance of neatness and comfort ; except being sometimes startled from their midnight slumbers, by the yell of the savage, or the howl of the wolf, they had themselves suffered no molestation. The prospect from the house was bounded on all sides by the forest, except in one direction, where there was a deep valley, from which the wood had been cleared, to open a communica- tion with the adjoining town. The rays of the setting sun, shooting almost horizontally into the valley, enabled the eye to reach a great distance, and formed a great contrast to the deep gloom which bounded both sides of the way. It was through this opening that Henry might frequently be seen, at the close of the day, returning from labor in a distant field. It was here, too, that the eye of affection and hope, first caught a view of a beloved object. One evening, at the end of June, Henry was seen about 21* 246 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. half way up the valley, on his return home. At this in- stant, a tall, stout Indian, leaped upon the unprotected and unsuspicious Henry, and appeared to be taking his scalp. The forest around, rang with savage yells, and four Indians were soon bounding over the fields towards the house. In an instant, the tender and depending Emily, was trans- formed into the bold and intrepid heroine. She delibe- rately fastened the doors, removed her two sleeping chil- dren into the cellar, and with her husband's rifle, stationed herself at the window, facing the Indians. The foremost Indian had just disappeared behind a small hillock ; but as he rose to view, he fell in the grasp of death. She hastily re-loaded, and anxiously awaited the approach of the three remaining Indians, who appeared to be exhausted with running. Two of them met a fate similar to that of their companion ; but the third succeeded in reaching the door and commenced cutting it down with his hatchet. Our heroine, with admirable presence of mind, recollecting tha* she had a kettle of boiling water above the stairs, took V and poureil the same down on this son of the forest, wh^.- that instant looking up, received the whole contents in his face and eyes. Blinded, scalded by the water, and ren- dered desperate by being thus outwitted by a woman, (which, of all things, a savage abhors,) he ran furiously round the corner of the house, and stumbled into a deep well. Freed from the immediate personal danger, she became anxious to know the fate of her husband. On looking to- ward the spot where he had been seized by the Indian, she beheld him, not only alive, but struggling with fearful odds against his foe, both covered with blood. She immedi- ately ran to his relief, and, unperceived, deliberately des- patched a ball through the head of his adversary. On the discharge of her gun, both fell, the one in the convulsions of death, the other by exhaustion ; the one restored to his mother earth, the other restored to the arms of an affec- tionate, and truly heroic wife. LOSS OF THE MEXTCO. ' 249 LOSS OF THE MEXICO. The barque Mexico, Capt. Wiiislow, sailed from Liver^ pool on the 25th of October, having on board, a crew consisting of twelve men, and one hundred and four pas Zr.t IW /T'' the H^hland Lights on SaturXy h Twftl f . ' • ""^ ^""^^^ "^^™'"g' '^^ ^as off the TJnltr > ''" T'^ square-rigged vessels-all having signals flying for pilots, but not a pilot was there m sight, Ihe Mexico continued standing off and on the Hook till m^drnght ; and at dark, she, and the whole fleet o?7hins displayed lanterns from their yards, for pilots Still no pilot came At midnight, the wind increised to a v dent to ho^r; ' • T^'T'' '.'^' '^^'•^"^ ^^« "« ^^^Ser able ornP i ^"^dward, and was blown off, a distance of frn^n^ A ^' ^^'' ^™^' ^^^ «^ ^'^^ ^^^^ Were badly ho.t-bitten, and the captain, mate, and two seamen, were ad that were left able to hand and reef the sails. Or Monday morning, at eleven o'clock, standing in shore' they made the southern end of the woodlands" when she was wore round, and headed to the north, under a close- reefed mam-topsail, reefed foresail, two reefed trysail, and forestay-sail. At four o'clock the next morning the mate that he had fifteen fathoms water. Supposing from til soundings as laid down in the chart, that with this depth ot water, he could stand on two hours longer with safety InLZ^uVT ""'i^'' '° ''^^* ^ff^^*' ^"d w^« the more induced to do It, as the crew were in so disabled a state and the weather so intensely cold, that it was impossible .ul7 "^Th '^™T ''".^^^^ '°"S^^ than half an hour at L tT . ^''''"^ ,^^' '''^^"' t'^^t the information ,aive» by the mate as to the depth of water, was incorrect": h^ error probably arose from the lead-lme being frozen st^ at the time it was cast. Fifteen minutos afterwards, the ship struck the bottom wenty-six miles east of Sandy Hook, at Hempstoad bS and not more than a cable's length from the shore The scene that ensued on board, we leave to the reader's ima- gination, lor one hour and three quarters, she continued 250 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. thumping heavily, without making any water, the sea, however, breaking continually over her. Her rudder was now knocked off, and the captain ordered the mainmast to be cut away. The boats were then cleared, the long- boat hoisted out, and veered away under her bows, with a stout hawser, for the purpose of filling it with passen- gers, letting it drift within reach of the people, who crowd- ed the beach, then hauling her back again, and thus saving the unfortunate people on board ; but this intention was frustrated, by the parting of the hawser, which snapped hke a thread, as soon as the boat was exposed to the heav ing surf. The yawl was next got alongside, and stove to pieces, almost instantly. At seven o'clock, the same morn- ing, the ship bilged and filled with water. Orders follow- ed fiom the captain, to cut away the foremast ; and that every soul on board should come on deck. In inexpressi- ble agony they thus remained, until four o'clock in the afternoon, when a boat was launched from the beach, and succeeded in getting under the bowsprit of the wreck. This boat took off Capt. Winslow and seven men, and succeeded in reaching the shore with them in safety. The attempt, however, was attended with such imminent dan ger, that none could be induced to repeat it. And now, the horrors of the scene were indescribable. Already had the sufferings of the unhappy beings been such, as to sur- pass belief. From the moment of the disaster, they had hung round the captain, covered with their blankets, thick set with ice, imploring his assistance, and asking if hope was still left to them. When they perceived that no fur ther help came from the land, their piercing shrieks were distinctly heard at a considerable distance, and continued through the night, until they one by one perished. The next morning, the bodies of many of the unhappy creatures were seen lashed to different parts of the wreck, imbedded in ice. None, it is believed, were drowned, but all frozen to death. Of the one hundred and four passengers, two thirds were women and children It is but justice to the people on the shore to say, that everything which human beings could accomplish to save the unfortunates, was done. The only boat which board LOSS OF THE MEXICO. 251 ctf the vessel, was hauled a distance of ten miles, and was manned by an old man and six others, four or five of whom were the old man's sons and grand-sons. For thirty-five j^ears has he been living on the sea-shore, during which he has rendered assistance to numerous wrecks, and never before have he or his comrades shrunk from the surf; but, in addition to its violence, on the present occasion, such was the extreme cold, that a second attempt to rescue, was more than they dared venture ; it would have inevita- bly proved fatal to them. The Mexico was a substantial, eastern built vessel, of two hundred and eighty tons, eleven years old, owned by Samuel Broom, of New York, When off the Hook, the Mexico, besides her signal for a pilot, had her flag flying Union down, as a signal of dis- tress, in consequence of the frost-bitten state of the crew, and the shortness of provisions. The unfortunate passengers were of a very superior class, and had considerable property with them. On the bodies which drifted ashore, gold to some amount was found. The following extract of a letter, written by a gentleman in New York to a friend, gives an affecting description of the appearance after death, of the unfortunate individuals, who were lost in the barque Mexico : On reaching Hempstead, I concluded to go somewhat oflf the road, to look at the place where the ship Mexico was cast away. In half an hour, we came to Lott's tav- ern, some four or five miles this side of the beach, where the ship lay ; and there, in his barn, had been deposited the bodies of the ill-fated passengers, which had been thrown upon the shore. I went out to the barn. The doors were open, and such a scene as presented itself to my view, I certainly never could have contemplated. It was a dreadful, a frightful scene of horror. Forty or fifty bodies, of all ages and sexes, were lying promiscuously before me, over the floor, all frozen, and as solid as marble — and all, except a few, in the very dresses in which they perished. Some with their hands clenched, as if for warmth, and almost every one, with an arm 252 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. crooked and bent, as it would be, in clinging to the rag- ging. There were scattered about among the number, four or five beautiful little girls, from six to sixteen years of age, their cheeks and lips as red as roses, with their calm blue eyes open, looking you in the face, as if they would speak. I could hardly realize that they were dead. I touched their cheeks, and they were frozen as hard and as solid as a rock, and not the least indentation could be made by any pressure of the hand. I could perceive a resemblance to each other, and supposed them to be the daughters of a passenger named Pepper, who perished, together with his wife and all the family. On the arms of some, were seen the impression of the rope which they had clung to — the mark of the twist deeply sunk into the flesh. I saw one poor negro sailor, a tall man, with his head thrown back, his lips parted, and his now sightless eye-balls turned upwards, and his arms crossed over his breast, as if imploring heaven for aid. This poor fello^^ evidently had frozen while in the act of fervent prayer. One female had a rope tied to her leg, which had bound her to the rigging ; and another little fellow had been cry- ing, and thus frozen, with the muscles of the face just as we see children, when crying. There were a brother and sister dashed upon the beach, locked in each other's arms ; but they had been separated in the barn. All the men had their lips firmly compressed together, and with the most agonizing expression on their countenances, I ever beheld. A little girl had raised herself on tiptoe, and thus was frozen, just in that position. It was an awful sight ; and such a picture of horror was before me, that I became unconsciously fixed to the spot, and found myself trying to suppress my ordinary breathing, lest I should disturb the repose of those around me. I was aroused from the reverie by the entrance of a man — a coroner. As I was about to leave, my attention became directed to a girl, who, I afterwards learned, had come that morn- ing from the city to search for her sister. She had sent for her to come over from England, and had received in LOSS OF THE MEXICO. 253 telligence that she was in this ship. She came into the Darn, and the second body she cast her eyes upon, was hers. She gave way to such a burst of impassioned grief and anguish, that I could not behold her without sharing in her feelings. She threw herself upon the cold and icy face and neck of the lifeless body, and thus, with her arms around lier, remained wailing, mourning, and sobbing, till I came away ; and when some distance off, I could hear her calling her by name, in the most frantic manner. So little time, it appears, had they to prepare for their fate, that 1 perceived a bunch of keys, and a half eaten cake, fall from the bosom of a girl, whom the coroner was removing. The cake appeared as if part of it had just been bitten, and hastily thrust into her bosom, and round ner neck was a ribbon, with a pair of scissors suspended. And to' observe the stout, rugged sailors, too, whose iron frames could endure so much hardship — here they lay, masses of ice. Such scenes show us, indeed, how power- less and feeble are all human efforts, when contending against the storms and tempests, which sweep with resist- less violence over the face of the deep. And yet the ves- sel was so near the shore, that the shrieks and moans of the poor creatures were heard through that bitter, dread- ful night, till towards morning, when the last groan died away, and all was hushed in death, and the murmur of the raging billows was all the sound that then met the ear. After the storm, the wreck was approached, and here and there were seen -columns, pillars of ice, which had formed on the frozen bodies, as the sea broke over them. ' Twas in the morning M^atch — a cheerless morn — Keen smote the blast which heralded the day, When a stout bark, her crew with hardship worn, Dash&i toward the port, with none to point her way ; Clear streamed aloft her lantern's signal ray, But brought, alas ! no pilot's friendly hail ; The frequent gust a shower of frozen spray Swept from the shrouds, encased in icy mail. And scarce the shivering tars could raise the stiffened saiL The humble inmates of the crowded berths, The richer few, who costlier couches prest. Perchance were dreaming of the cheerful hearths, Where, soon, they hoped for welcome and for ^es^^ 22 254 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. Perchance of home, and those who made it blest : Long had they seen, with weary eye, the sun Sink day by day into the landless west, But now the boon they coveted was won, The shore they sought was near, their travail well nigh done. The matron murmured softly in her sleep. Of prosperous days, and clasped her infant boy ; The maiden dreamed of one who o'er the deep Went to seek her a home, and in her joy Hung round his neck, too happy to be coy ; The husband deemed his toil with riches crowned, Which titled power could tithe not, nor destroy • Aerial Hope all eyehds fluttered round, - And beckoned with her wings to Freedom's haLo.wed ground* From such blest dreams, if such were theirs, they woke To all that thought can picture of despair ; High o'er the bark the insatiate ocean broke. And death was in the paralysing air ; Oh ! when the remnant mercy deigned to spare, Safe from the bulging wreck were seen to glide, What were the pangs of those left hopeless there 2 With tossing arms, they thronged the vessel's side, Shrieking to heaven for aid, while howling seas replied I They perished, one by one, that pilgrim crowd — The silver-haired, the beautiful, the young ! — Some were found wrapt as in a crystal shroud Of waves congealed, that tombed them where they clung J Some on the strand the sounding breakers flung. Linked in affection's agonized embrace ; And to the gazer's eyes the warm tears sprung, As they beheld two babes — a group of grace — Locked in each other's arms, and pillowed face to face ? They rest in earth — the sea's recovered prey — No tempests now their dreamless sleep assail ; But when to friends and kindred far away, Some quivering Mp shall tell the dismal tale, From many a home will burst the voice of wail ; But when it ceases, and the tear-drop laves The cheek no more, shall gratitude prevail^^ Yearnings of love towards those beyond the waves^ Who bore, with solemn rites, the exiles to their gravsfc LOSS OF THE STEAMER PULASKI. 255 LOSS OF THE STEAMER PULASKI. From the Baltimore Chronicle of Monday, June 18, 1833. The intense interest taken by the public in the recitai of the details of this most heart-rending disaster, has in- duced us to seek, from all the sources within our reach, all particulars that we can rely upon as authentic. The annexed narrative is derived from information which we procured, in person, from J. H. Couper, Esq,, of Glynn count}^ Georgia, and Major James P. Heath, of this city, two of the survivors. The arrival of the latter among us, at the moment when the whole city had given him up as lost, excited the most pleasurable sensation, and was the occasion of universal joy. The Pulaski sailed from Savannah on Wednesday the 13th of June, 1838, having on board about ninety passengers. She arrived at Charleston the same afternoon, and sailed the next morning with sixty-five additional passengers. The following list of passengers, who were on board the Pulaski, we copy from the Charleston paper : — Mrs. Nightingale,* child and servant, Mrs. Fraser and child, Mrs. Wilkins and child, Mrs. Mackay, child and ser- vant, Mrs. Wagner, child and servant. Miss A. Parkman, Miss C. Parkman, Miss T. Parkman, Mrs. Hutchinson, two children and servant, Mrs. Lamar, Miss R. Lamar, Miss M. Lamar, Miss R. J. Lamar, Miss E. Lamar, Miss C. Lamar, Mrs. Dunham, Mrs. Gumming and servant, Mrs. Woart, Mrs. Stewart and servant, Mrs. Taylor, Miss Dray- ton, Mrs. Pringle and child, Miss Pringle and nurse, Mrs. Murray, Miss Murray, Mrs. Britt, Miss Heald, Mrs. Rut- ledge, Miss Rutledge, Mrs. H. S. Ball, nurse, child and servant, Miss Trapier, Mrs. Longworth, Mrs. Edings and child. Miss Mikell, Mrs. Coy and'child. Miss Clarke, Mrs. B. F. Smith, Mrs. N. Smith, Mrs. Gregory, Mrs. Davis; Mrs. Hubbard, Mrs. Merritt, Miss Greenwood, Col. Dun- ham, Col. Hudson, Gen. Heath, Dr. Wilkins, Dr. Gum- ming, Dr. Stewart, Dr. Ash, Rev. E. Crofts, Rev. Mr. Murray, Major Twiggs, Judge Rochester, Judge Cameron, Messrs. S. B. Parkman, G. B. Lamar, C. Lamar, W. La- • Daughter of John A. King, Esq., of Long Island 256 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. mar, T. Lamar, R. Hutchinson, R. Brower, S. Livermor« B, W. Fosdick, H. Eldridge, C. Ward, G. Huntington, J H. Couper, H. B. Nichols, L. Bird, A. Lovejoy, W. W. Foster, J. L. Woart, W. A. Stewart, A. Hamilton, S. Mil- ler, R. W. Pooler, R. W. Pooler, jr., W. C. N. Swift, A, Burns, N. H. Carter, E. P. Pringle, Rutledge, H. S. Ball, Longworth, F. M'Rea, T. C. Rowand, W. E'dings, R. Sea- brook, J. Seabrook, S. Keith, G. W. Coy, T. M. Whaley, O. Gregorie, N. Smith, B. F. Smith, Davis, R. D. Walker. E. W. Innis, Hubard, J. Auze, Bennett, Clifton, Merritt R. L. Greenwood, Evans, Freeman, master Murray, and master Parkman, B. W. Fosdick, A. G. Bennett, Lieut. J B. Thornton, U. S. Army, and Andrew Stewart, a deck hand. In the afternoon the wind was fresh from the east, and produced a heavy sea, which retarded her progress, and required a full pressure of steam. At half-past ten the wind continued fresh, with a clear star light — and there was every promise of a fine night. At eleven o'clock, the starboard boiler exploded with a tremendous violence, blowing off the promenade deck above, and shattering the starboard side about midships ; at the same time the bulk ^ead between the boilers and forward cabin was stove in. ^,he stairway to it blocked up, and the bar-room swept away. The head of the boiler was blown out, and the top rent, fore and aft. In consequence of the larboard boiler and works being comparatively uninjured, the boat heeled to that side, and the starboard side was kept out of the water, except when she rolled, v^hen the sea rushed in at the breach. The boat continued to settle rapidly, and in about forty minutes the water had reached the promenade deck above the la- dies' cabin. Previous to this period, the ladies, children, and ihe gentlemen who were in the after part of the boat, were placed on the promenade deck. About the time when the water reached that point, the boat parted in :avo with a tremendous crash, and the bow and stern rose some- what out of the water ; but the latter again continued to sink, until the water reached the promenade deck, when it separated in three parts, upset, and precipitated all on it into the water Many then regained the detached per- LOSS OF THE STEAMER PULASKI. 25?" tions. The gentlemen who occupied the forward cabin took refuge on the extreme point of the bow, wlien the boat broke in tv/o, and clung to it and the foremast ; others had placed themselves on settees, and the fragments of the wreck. There were four boats belonging to the boat ; two being ijwung to the sides, and two placed on the top of the pro- menade deck. The side boats were both lowered down, within five minutes of the explosion. In that on the star- ooard side the first mate, Mr. Hibberd, Mr. Swift, and one other person, had placed themselves ; in that on the lar- iboard side were Mr. J. H. Couper, with Mrs. Nightingale and child, and Mrs. Fraser and her son, who were under his charge. Captain R. W. Pooler and son, and Mr. Wm. Robertson, all of Georgia ; Barney and Solomon belong- mg to the crew, and two colored v. omen. By direction of the mate, two of the crew launched one of the deck boats and got into her ; but as, from her long exposure to the sun, her seams were all open, she immediately filled, and Mr. Hibberd removed the men to his boat. The boats aiet, when those in the second proposed to Mr. Hibberd to .itrike for the land, as it had on board as many as it could ivith any safety carry. This he declined to do, as he said ''le was determined to stay by the wreck until day-light, And had yet room for more persons. Both boats then con- tinued to row about the wreck until the mate's boat had picked up as many as she could carry, when Mr. Hibberd ■fielded to the propriety of consulting the safety of those in ihe boats, by going to the land, as their further stay would endanger them, without affording any aid to their suffering friends — and they left the wreck at three P. M. The boat took a N. W. course, being favored by a heavy sea and strong breeze from S. E. We take the following particulars of the loss of this boat from the Wilmington (N. C.) Advertiser of the 18th instant, as given by the first mate, Mr. Hibberd, who had charge of the boat at the time of the explosion. The explosion took place about eleven o'clock on the night of the 14th instant, off the North Carolina coast, about thirty miles from land. The weather was moderate at the time, and the night very dark. The boat went down in about forty- Q2* 258 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. five minutes after tbe explosion, with all the passengeri and crew, except those whose names are to be found be- low. Mr. Hibberd says : That, at about ten o'clock at night, he was called to the command of the boat, and that he was pacing the prome- nade deck in front of the steerage house ; that he found himself, shortly after, upon the main deck, lying between the mast and side of the boat ; that upon the return of con- sciousness, he had a confused idea of having heard an ex plosion, something like that of gunpowder, immediately before he discovered himself in his then situation. He was induced therefore to rise and walk aft, where he discover- ed that the boat midships was blown entirely to pieces ; that the head of the starboard boiler was blown out, and the top torn open ; that ihe timbers and plank on the star- board side were forced asunder, and that the boat took in water whenever she rolled in that direction. He became immediately aware of the horrors of their situation, and the danger of letting the passengers know that the boat was sinking before lowering the small boats. He proceeded, therefore, to do this. Upon dropping the boat he was asked his object, and he replied that it was to pass round the steamer to ascertain her condition. Before doing this, however, he took in a couple of men. He or- dered the other boats to be lowered, and two were shortly put into the water ; but they leaked so much in conse- quence of their long exposure to the sun, that one of them sunk after a fruitless attempt to bail her. He had in the interim taken several from the water, until the number made ten. In the other boat afloat there were eleven While they were making a fruitless attempt to bail the small boat, the Pulaski went down with a dreadful crash, in about forty-five minutes after the explosion. Both boats now insisted upon Mr. Hibberd's directing their course to the shore ; but he resisted their remon- strances, replying that he would not abandon the spot Jintil daylight. At about three o'clock in the morning they started, in the midst of the wailings of the hopeless beings who were floating around in every direction upon pieces of the wreck, to seek land, which was about thirty miles distant. After pulling about thirteen houis, t'ne persons in LOSS OF THE STEAMER PULASKI. 259 both boats became tired, and insisted that Mr. Hibberd should land. This he opposed, thinking it safest to pro- ceed along the coast, and to enter some one of its numer- ous inlets ; but he was at length forced to yield to tho general desire, and to attempt a landing upon the beach, a utile east of Stump Inlet. He advised Mr. Couper, of Georgia, who had command of the other boat, and a couple of ladies, with two chil- dren, under his charge, to wait until his boat had first landed, as he apprehended much danger in the attempt and should they succeed, they might assist him and the ladies and children. There were eleven persons in the mate's boat, having taken two black women from Mr. Couper's. Of these, two passengers, one of the crew, and the two negro women were drowned, and six gained the shore. After waiting for a signal, which he received from the mate, Mr. Couper and his companions landed in about three hours after, in safety. They then proceeded a short distance across Stump Sound to Mr. Redd's, of Onslow county, where they remained from Friday evening until Sunday morning, and then started for Wilmington. The mate and two passengers reached here this' morning, June 18, about nine o'clock, Passengers saved in the two yawls. Mrs. P. M. Nightingale, servant and child, of Cumber- land Island ; Mrs. W. Fraser and child, St. Simon's, Geor- gia ; J. H. Couper, Glynn, Georgia ; P. W. Pooler, Sa- vannah, Georgia ; Capt. Pooler, sen. ; Wm. Robertson, Savannah, Georgia ; Elias L. Barney, North Carolina ; Solomon ; S. Hibberd, first mate Pulaski ; W. C. N, Swift, New Bedford ; Z. A. Zeuchtenberg, Munich ; Charles B. Tappan, New York ; Gideon West, New Bed- ford boatswain ; B, Brown, Norfolk, steward. Persons drowned in landing. Mr. Bird, of Bryan county, Georgia ; the Hon. William B. Rochester, of Buffalo, New York, and recently from Pensacola ; a young man, name unknown ; Jenny, a color- ed woman ; Priscilla, a colored woman, stewardess. 260 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. The other boat continued to keep off until about sunset, when finding the night approaching, and there being no appearance of aid or change in the wind, which was blow- ing freshly in to the land, and the persons in the boat hav- ing previously refused to attempt to row any further, Mr. Couper reluctantly consented to attempt a landing. Before making the attempt, it was thought necessary, to prevent the infant of Mrs. Nightingale, which was only seven months old, from being lost, to lash it to her person, which was done. Just as the sun was setting, the bow of the boat was turned to the shore, and Mr. Couper sculling, and two men at the oars, she was pulled into the breakers. She rose without difficulty upon the first breaker, but the second, coming out with great violence, struck the oar from the hand of one of the rowers. The boat was then thrown into the trough of the sea, and the succeeding breaker struck her broadside, and turned her bottom up- ward. Upon regaining the surface Mr. Couper laid hold of the boat, and soon discovered that the rest of the" party, with the exception of Mrs. Nightingale, were making for the shore. Of her, for a few seconds, he saw nothing ; but presently, feeling something like the dress of a female touching his foot, he again dived down, and was fortunate enough to grasp her by the hair. The surf continued to break over them with great vio- lence ; but after a struggle, in which their strength spent its last efforts, they reached the shore, utterly worn out with fatigue, watching, hunger, thirst, and the most intense and overwhelming excitement. Besides this, the ladies and children were suffering sevei-ely from the cold. The party proceeded a short distance from the shore, where the ladies lay down upon the side of a sand hill, and their protectors covered them and their children with sand, to prevent them from perishing. Meantime some of the party went in quest of aid, and about ten o'clock the whole of them found a kind and hospitable reception, shelter, food, and clothing, under the roof of Mr. Siglee -Redd, ot Onslow county. Mrs. Nightingale is the daughter of John A, King, Esq., of New York, and grand-daughter of the late distinguish- ed Rufus King. Luring the whole of the perils through LOSS OP THE STEAMER PULASKI. 261 which they passed, she and Mrs. Fraser displayed the highest qualities of fortitude and heroism. They owe the preservation of their own and their children's lives, under Providence, to the coolness, intrepidity, and firmness of Mr. Couper and his assistants, and to the steadiness with which they seconded the wise and humane eiforts of that gentleman in their behalf. The forward part of the boat, after her separation, con- iinued to float. On it were Major Heath and twenty-one others. We have had a long conversation with Major Heath, in which he related with great minuteness, every thing attending the preservation of the persons who were on the wreck with him. It is impossible to convey in words any thing more than a faint idea of the suffering they underwent, or of the many harrowing and distressing circumstances w^iich occurred during the four days they were on the wreck. But a short time previous to the explosion, it was re- marked by one of the passengers to Major Heath, that the guage showed thirty inches of steam. On the attention of the engineer being called to this fact, he replied that it would bear with safety forty inches. Major Heath had just retired to the after cabin. A number of passengers were lying on the settees ; and when the boiler burst, the steam rushed into the cabin, and, it is thought, instantly killed them, as they turned over, fell on the floor, and never were seen by the major to move afterward. He had, on hearing the noise of the explosion, got out of his berth and run to the steps, the steam miceting him in the cabin. He got under the steps, as did also Mr. Lovejoy of Georgia, and they were thus shielded from its effects. In a few moments he went on deck, and found all dark He called for the captain, and receiving no answer, mado for the mast, as he felt that the boat was sinking. Before he could secure himself the sea burst over him and carried him away. Fortunately, however, a rope had caught round his leg, and with this he pulled himself back. The mast, as soon as he had been washed from it, fell and crushed one of the passengers, Mr. Auze, a French gentle- man, of Augusta. The boat now broke in two, and the deck forward of the mast was carried away from the rest 262 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. of the vessel, seemingly very swiftly. Nothing more war seen after this by Major Heath of the yawl, or the aftei part of the boat ; but, in about half an hour, he heard a wild shrill scream, and then all was quiet. This must have been when the promenade deck turned over, with at leasl one hundred human beings upon it ! When daylight broke, he found that there were twenty- ^wo on the wreck with him — among them Capt. Pearson, who had been blown out into the sea, but vdio had caught a plank, and succeeded in reaching them during the night. The danger of their situation was at once fully reahzed. The heavy mast lay acz'oss the deck on which they rested, and kept it about twelve inches under water, and the planks were evidently fast parting ! Capt. Pearson, with the rest, set himself at work to lash the wreck together by the aid of the ropes on the mast — letting the rope sink on one side of the raft, which passing under came up on the other side, and by repeating this operation they formed a kind of net-woi'k over it. They also succeeded in lashing two large boxes to their raft, which formed seats. Friday passed without any vessel coming in sight. Their thirst now became intense. The heat of the sun was very oppressive — its rays pouring down on their bare heads, and blistering their faces and backs — some not having even a shirt on, and none more than a shirt and pantaloons. The suffering of the younger portion of their company, at this time, became very great. Major Twiggs, of the U. S. A., had saved his child, a boy of about twelve years of age. He kept him in his arms nearly all the time ; and when he would call on his mother, who was safe at home and beg for water, his father would seek in vain to com- fort him by words of kindness, and clasping him closer to his heart. On Saturday they fell in with another portion of the wreck, on which were Chicken and three others, whom they took on their raft. Towards the close of evening they had approached within half a mile of shore, as they thought, and many were anxious to make an effort to land. This was objected to by Major Heath, as the breakers ran very high, and would have dashed the raft to pieces on the shore. LOSS OF THE STEAMER PULASKI. 263 Mr. Greenwood, from Georgia, told the major that he was one of the best swimmers in the country, and that *he would tie a rope around him and swim to the shore. " No no !" replied the major, " you shall not risk your life foi me: under these circumstances, and in such an attempt you would lose your life. No 1 I am the oldest man in danger, and will not increase the risks of otherSo" All hope of landing then was shortly afterwards given up, as a slight breeze from the shore was now carrying them Ciut into the sea. Despair now seemed to seize on some of them — and one suggested ttiat if relief did not soon reach them it would be necessary to cast lots. The firmness and decision of Major Heath soon put this horrid idea to flight. " We are Christians," he told them, " and we cannot innocently imbrue our hands in the blood of a fellow creature. A horrible catastrophe has deprived hundreds of their lives, brought sorrow to many a hearth and thrown us upon the mercy of the winds and waves. We have still life left ; let us not give up all manliness, and sink to the brute. We have all our thoughts, about us, and shouJd face death, which must sooner or later overtake us, with the spirit that becomes us as Christian men. When that hour arrives I will lay down my life without a mur- mur, and I will risk it now for the safety of any one of you ; but I will never stand by and see another sacrificed that we may drink his blood and eat his flesh I" With such words as these did he quiet them, and reconcile them to await the issue. The day wore away again without the sight of a vessel to cheer their drooping spirits. On Sunday morning it commenced raining, with a stiff^^ breeze from the" north-east, which soon increased to a severe gale. Every effort was made to catch some of the falling rain in the piece of canvass which they had taken from the mast; but the sea ran so high that the little they did catch was nearly as salt as the water of the ocean Still the rain cooled them, and in their situation was re- freshing and grateful. On Monday morning they saw four vessels. They raised on a pole a piece of the flag that was attached to the mast, and waved it, but in vain. The vessels were too far off, and hope was nearly lost, as they watched them, one after 204 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. another, pass from their sight. They had now been with' out food or water for four days and nights ; — their tongues were dry in their mouths — their flesh burnt and bhstered oy the sun, and their brains fevered — and many of them oegan to exhibit the pecuhar madness attendant on starva- tion. They could not sleep either, as the raft was almost always under water ; and it required continued watchful- ness to keep themselves from being washed overboard by the sea. Major Heath tells us, that never for one moment did he lose his consciousness ; and we hear from others that his cheerful spirit and encouraging conversation kept alive the hope of safety in the breast of others, and ban- ished despair from their minds. On Tuesday morning a vessel hove in sight, and her track seemed to lie much nearer them than those they had seen before. They again waved their flag, and raised their feeble voices. Still the vessel kept on her track, which now appeared to carry her away from them. " She is gone," said one of the crew — a poor fellow who had been dreadfully scalded, and he laid himself down on one of the boxes, as he said, " to die." Captain Pearson, who had been closely watching the vessel, cried out, " She sees us ! She is coming toward us 1" And so it was — all sails set, and full before the wind — the vessel made for them. The schooner proved to be the Henry Camerdon, bound from Philadelphia to Wilmington, N, C. As soon as the captain came within speaking distance, he took his trumpet and cried out, " Be of good cheer — I will save you 1" It was the first strange voice that had reached their ears for live days, which were to them as an age. When the schooner came alongside, .they all rushed frantically on deck — and it was with some difficulty that die captain could keep them from the water-casks. He tmmediately gave each of them a half pint of water sweet- ened with molasses, and repeated it at short intervals His prudence, doubtless, preserved their lives. During the morninp'. Major Heath and his company had seen another portion of the wreck, with several persons on it, and as soon as the captain of the Henry Camerdon was told of it, he sailed in the direction it had been seen m, and shortly afterwards came in sight. On this wreck; LOSS OF THE STEAMER PULASKI. 265 which was a part of the promenade deck, were Miss Rebecca Lamar, Mrs. Noah Smith, of Augusta, Master Charles Lamar, of Savannah, and Mr. Robert Hutchinson, also of Savannah. The two ladies were much exhausted, and Master Lamar was almost dead. Every comfort that the schooner was possessed of was freely bestowed by the captain — and Major Heath, on behalf of those who were saved with him, has asked us to return, thus publicly, to him, the thanks, the deep and heart-felt thanks, of the be- mgs whom he rescued from a condition of such misery and peril, that the heart sickens at the contemplation of it. Mr. Hutchinson had lost in this disaster his wife and child. His wife was the daughter of Mr. Elliott, formerly in the United States Senate from Georgia. When the promenade deck separated from the hull, many persons took refuge on this portion of it. Among them were Mr. G. B. Lamar, of Savannah, and two chil- dren, the Rev. Mr. Woart and lady, of Florida, and a child of Mr. Hutchinson, and the second mate of the Pulaski. On Saturday morning, fii\ding that there was no other hope of safety, the mate proposed to take the boat which they had secured — being the second deck boat — and with five of the most able of those on the raft, to endeavor to reach the shore, and to send out some vessel to cruise for them. This being assented to, the mate, with Mr. Lamar and four others, took their departure, and on Wednesday morning they reached New River Inlet in safety. The passengerrt remaining on the raft, with the exception of the four men tioned as taken off by the Henry Camerdon, died fron? exhaustion — among them were the Rev. Mr. Woart ano lady, whose Christian resignation to their fate excited the admiration of all around them. They expired within a few minutes of each other. Seven persons were reported to have died on Monday. The body of Mr. Parkman, of Sa vannah, floated to the raft, and was recognised by his friends It was ascertained at Wilmington, on Wednesday morn- ing, that eight other persons from the wreck had reached New River Inlet, but their names, with two exceptions, are unknown. The passengers who escaped, were almost without ex- ception in the clothes in which thev were sleeping, and 23 266 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. suffered severely from the blistering effects of the sun, and thechilly winds of the night. They were entirely desti- tute of water or food of any kind. Those who were last saved were most of them in a dreadful state of ulceration and debility. The cause of the disaster was obviously the neglect of the second engineer, in permitting the water to boil off, or to blow off, in the starboard boiler, and then letting in a full supply of water on the heated copper. One of the hands saved had, a few minutes before the explosion, ex- amined the steam guage, and found it fluctuating rapidly from twenty-six to twenty-nine inches. Another had just left the engine room when he heard the shrill, whistling sound of high pressure steam, as the engineer tried the water cock. In a few seconds the explosion took place. Captain Dubois was seen asleep in the wheel-house ten minutes before the explosion. Captain Pearson, the second captain, was blown out of his berth into the sea, as was also Chicken, the first, engineer. They both regained the bow -of the boat. The following is a recapitulation of the number saved at different times : In the two boats, . . . . . .16 On the two rafts, ..... 30 In the boat with Mr. G. B. Lamar, . . 5 On other fragments, . . - . 8 • 59 No baggage of any kind was saved. All the passengers had money, which was in their trunks, and it was estimated that at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, in bank notes and specie, have been lost, and upward of ten thousand dollars in watches and jewellery. By a later slip from the Wilmington Advertiser, it is stated that thirty more of the passengers in the Pulaski have been saved. They were found hanging to the upper deck of the wreck, in a very exhausted state — having been so for four days. They were taken off the wreck by a schooner, 17 days from Wilmington, for Philadelphia. The following are the names of the persons taken from the wreck : COURTSHIP ON A FRAGMENT OF THE PULASKI. 267 A. Lovejoy, Camden county, Georgia ; Mr. Greenwood, Augusta, Georgia ; Mr. O. Gregory, do. ; Mrs. Noah Smith, do. ; Miss Rebecca Lamar, do. ; Mr. A. Hamilton, do. ; ■ Chicken, first engineer ; E. Joseph, New York ; D. Walker and Thomas Downing, Charleston ; , un- known ; , fireman ; a colored woman ; Patrick and Bill, deck hands ; Blajor Heath, Baltimore ; Major Twiggs and son, Richmond county, Georgia ; Charles Lamar, Sa- vannah ; Robert Seabrook, Edisto Island, South Carolina Masters T. and W. Whaley, do. ; Mr. Edings, do. ; Mr R. Hutchinson, Savannah ; Mr. C. Ward, do. ; Captain Pearson, Baltimore ; C. W. Chfton, Canton, Mississippi ; Warren Freeman, Macon, Georgia ; John Cape, fireman, Baltimore ; Rhynah, a colored woman. The whole number on board, it is said, was about one hundred and eighty. Fifty-nine have been rescued. COURTSHIP ON A FRAGMENT OF THE PliLASKl. - From the Delaware Gazette. Many interesting as well as painfiil incidents connected with that awfiil disaster, are related to us by those who have seen and conversed with persons saved from the wreck. Amongst others the following is told of a Mr. Ridge, from New Orleans, and a Miss Onslow, from one of the Southern States, two of the unfortunates who were picked up on the fifth day, about fifty miles from land. It is stated of the gentleman, that he had been sitting on the deck alone, for half an hour previous to the accident. Another gentleman who was walking near him at the time of the explosion was thrown overboard, and himself was precipitated nearly over the side of the boat, and stunned. He recovered immediately, as he supposed, when he heard some one i-emark, "get out the boats — she is sinking" He was not acquainted with a solitary individual in the boat. Under such circumstances, it is as natural to suppose that he would feel quite as much concern for himself as for any one else. He was consequently among the foremost who sought the small boat for safety, and was about to step into it, wh,he glen, like red devils, as they are, mony o' their best warriors fell at the furthest entrance o' the pass, every man o' them wi' a hole in his breast, and its fellow at his Dack." He had taken a long arrow out of the sheaf, and stood playing with it in his hand while speaking, seemingly feady to give to the first man who should bend the bow. The M'Gregors were tail, muscular men, in the prime of youth 282 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. and manhood. The young chief took up the bow, and after examining its unbending strength, laying all his mighi to it, strained till the blood rushed to his face, and his ten* pies throbbed almost to bursting ; but in vain — the string remained slack as ever. Evan and the other M'Gregor, w^ere alike unsuccessful ; they might as well have tried to root up the gnarled oaks of their native mountains. " There is not a man," cried the young chief of M'Gre- go;; greatly chagrined at the absence of Calum Dhu, and his own clansmen's vain attempts to bend the bow — " there is not a man in your clan can bend that bow, ani if Calum Dhu was here, he should not long bend it 1' Here he bit his lip, and suppressed the rest of his sentence, for the third M'Gregor gave him a glance of caution. " Ha !" said the old man, still playing with the long ar- row in his hand, and without seeming to observe the latter part of M'Gregor's speech ; " if Calum was here, he would bend it as easy as you wad bend that rush ; and gin ony o' the M'Gregors were in sight, he wad drive this lang arrow through them, as easily as ye wad drive your dirk through my old plaid, and the feather wad come out at the other side, wet wi' their heart's bluid. Sometimes, ever, the man behind is wounded, if they are ony way thick in their battle. I once saw a pair of them stretched on the heather, pinned together with one of Calum's long arrows." This was spoken with cool composure, and with the simphcity of one who is talking to friends, or is careless if they are foes. A looker-on could have discerned a checkered shade of pleasure and triumph* in his counte- ance, as M'Gregor's lip quivered, and the scowl of anger fell along his brow, at the tale of his kinsman's destruction, by the arm of his most hated enemy. " He must be a brave warrior," said the young chiet, compressing his breath, and looking with anger and aston- ishment at the tenacious and cool old man ; " I should like to see this Calum Dhu." " Ye may soon enough, an' gin ye were a M'Gregor, feel him too. But what is the man glunching and gloom- ing at ? Gin ye were Black John himsel', ye couldna look mair deevlish like ; and what are you fidgeting at mon ?" CALTTM DHtr. 283 addressing the third M'Gregor, who had both niarked and felt the anger of his young chief, and had slowly moved nearer the old man, and stood with his right hand below the left breast of his plaid, probably grasping his dirk, ready to execute the vengeance of his master, as it was displayed on his clouded countenance, which he closely watched. The faith of the Gael is deeper than " to hear is to obey," the slavish obedience of the East ; his is to an- ticipate and perform — to know and accomplish, or die. It IS the sterner devotedness of the North. • But the old man kept his keen gray eye fixed upon him, and continued in the same unsuspecting tone : " But is there ony word o' the M'Gregors soon coming over the hills ? Calum would like to try a shot at Black John, their chief; he wonders gin he could paffe an arrow through his great hardy bulk, as readily as he sends them through his clansmen's silly bodies. John has a son, too, he wad like to try his craft on ; he has the name of a brave warrior ; I forget his name. Calum likes to strike at noble game, though he is sometimes forced to kill that which is Httle worth. But I'm fearfu' that he o'errates his ain strength i his arrow will only, I think, stick weel through Black John ; but" — " Dotard, peace !" roared the young chief, till the glen rang again, his brow darkening like midnight ; " peace ! or I shall cut the sacrilegious tongue out of your head, and nail it to that door, to show Calum Dhu that you have had visitors since he went away, and that he may bless his stars that he was not here." A dark flash of suspicion crossed his mind as he gazed at the cool old tormentor, who stood before him, unquail- ing at his frowns ; but it vanished as the imperturbable old man said, " Haoh ! ye're no' a M'Gregor ; and though ye were, ye surely wad na mind the like o' me ! but about bending this bow," striking it with the long arrow, which he still held in his hand, " there is just a knack in it, and your untaught young strength is useless, as ye dinna ken the gait o't. I learned it frae Calum ; I'm sworn never to tell it to a stranger. There is mony a man in the clan I ken nothing about, but as ye seem anxious to see the bow bent, I'll nae disappoint ye ; rin up to yon gray 284 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. stane — stand there, and it will no be the same as if ye were standing near me "when I'm doing it, but it will just be the same to you, for ye can see weel enough, and when the string is on the bow, ye may come down an ye like, and try a flight ; it's a capital bow, and that ye'll fin." A promise is sacred with the Gael ; and as he was under one, they did not insist on his exhibiting his art while they were in his presence ; but curious to see the sturdy boW bent, a feat of which the best warrior of their clan would have been proud, and which they had in vain essayed ; and perhaps thinking Calum Dhu would arrive m the interval ; and as they feared nothing from the indi vidual who seemed ignorant of their name, and who could not be supposed to send an arrow so far with any effect ; they therefore walked 4away in the direction pointed out, nor did they once turn their faces till they reached the gray rock. They now turned, and saw the old man (who had waited till they had gone the whole way) suddenly bend the stubborn yew, and fix an arrow on the string. In an instant it was drawn to his very ear, and the feather- ed shaft, of a cloth breadth length, was fiercely launched in the air. " M'Alp — hooch !" cried the young chief, meaning to raise the M'Gregor war cry, clapping his hand on his breast, as he fell. " Ha !" cried Calum Dhu, for it was he himeslf, "clap your hand behin' ; the arm shot that, that never sent arrow that came out where it went in ;" a rhyme he used in battle, when his foes fell as fast as he could fix arrows to the bowstring. The two M'Gregors hesitated a moment, whether to rush down and cut to atoms the old man who had so suddenly caused the death of their beloved young chief; but seeing him fix another arrow to his bow, of which they had just seen the terrible effects, and fearing they might be prevented from carrying the news of his son's death to their old chieftain, and thus cheat him of his revenge, they started over the hill like roes ; but a speedy messenger was after them ; an arrow caught Evan as he descended out of sight, over the hill ; sent with powerfu^ and unerring aim, it transfixed him in the shoulder. It must have grazed the bent tliat grew on the hill-top to CALUM DHU. 285 catch him, as only the shoulders could be seen from where Calum Dhu stood. On flew the other M'Gregor, with little abatement of speed, till he reached his chieftain with the bloody tidings of his son's death. " Raise the clan 1" was Black John's first words ; " dearly shall they rue it." A party was soon gathered ; breathing all the vengeance of mountain warriors, they were soon far on the way of fierce retaliation, with Black John at their head. Calum Dhu was, in the mean time, not idle ; knowing, from the escape of one of the three M'Gregors, that a battle must quickly ensue, he collected as many of his clansmen as he could, and taking his terrible bow, which he could so bravely use, calmly waited the approach of the M'Gre- gors, who did not conceal their coming, for loud and fiercely their pipes flung their notes of war and defiance on the gales as they approached ; and mountain, cliff, and glen, echoed far and wide the martial strains. They ar- rived, and a desperate struggle immediately commenced. The M'Gregors carried all before them ; no warriors at '^his time, could withstand the hurricane onset, sword in hand, of the far-famed warlike M'Gregors. Black John raged thi'ough" the field like a chafed lion, roaring in a voice of thunder, heard far above the clash, groans, and yells of the unyielding combatants — " where is the murderer of my son V None could tell him ; none was afforded time ; for he cut down, in his headlong rage, every foe he met. At length, when but few of his foes remained, on whom he «ould wreak his wrath or exercise his great strength, he spied an old man sitting on a ferny bank, holding the stump of his leg, which had been cut off in the battle, and who beckoned the grim chief to come nearer. Black John rushed forward, brandishing his bloody sword, cry- ing, in a voice which startled the yet remaining birds from the neighboring mountain cliffs — " where is my son's murderer ?" " Shake the leg out o' that brogue," said the old man, speaking with difficulty, and squeezing his bloody stump with both hands with all the energy of pain, " and bring 285 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. me some o' the water frae yon burn, to drink, and I wl show you Calum Dhu, for he is yet in the field, and lives: rin, for my heart burns and faints." Black John, without speaking, shook the leg out of tne brogue, and hasted to bring water, to get the wished for intelligence. Stooping to dip the bloody brogue in the little stream, " M'Alp — hooch !" he cried, and splashed lifeless in the water, which, in a moment, ran thick with his blood, " Ha !" cried Calum Dhu, for it was he again, " clap your hand behin' ; that's the last arrow shot by the am" that sent those which came not out where they went in.'' THE HARDEST FEND OFF— OR, THE BEAR AND THE ALLIGATOR. On a scorching day in the middle of June, 1830, whilst I was seated under a venerable live oak, on the ever-green banks of the Teche, waiting for the fish to bite, I was startled by the roarings of some animal, in the cane-brake, a short distance below me, apparently getting ready for action. These notes of preparation were quickly succeed- ed by the sound of feet, trampling down the cane, and scattering the shells. As soon as I recovered from my surprise, I resolved to take a view of what I supposed to be two prairie bulls, mixing impetuously in battle, an oc- currence so common in this country and season, when, as Thompson says, " Through all his lusty veins The bull, deep-scorched, the raging passion feels." When I reached the scene of action, how great was my astonishment, instead of bulls to behold a Im-ge black bear, reared upon his hind legs, with his fore-paws raised aloft as if to make a plunge. His face was besmeared with white foam, sprinkled with red, which, dropping from his mi^uth, rolled down his shaggy breast. Frantic from the smarting of his wounds, he stood gnashing his teeth, and growling at his enemy. A few paces in his rear was the THE BEAR AND THE ALLIGATOR. 289 cane-brake from which he had issued. On a bank of snow-white shells, spotted with blood, in battle array stood Bruin s foe, in the shape of an alligator, fifteen feet long ! He looked as if he had just been dipped in the Teche, and had emerged, like Achilles, from the Styx, with an invulnerable coat of mail. He was standing on dptoe, his back curved upwards, and his tongueless mouth thrown open, displaying his wide jaws, two large tusks, and rows of teeth. His tail, six feet long, raised from the ground, was constantly waving, like a boxer's arm, to gather force. His big eyes, starting from his head, glared upon Bruin, whilst sometimes uttering hissing cries, then ] oaring like a bull. The combatants were a few paces apart when I stole upon them, the "first round" being over. They remained in the attitudes described about a minute, swelling them- selves as large as possible, but marking the slightest motions with attention and great caution, as if each felt confident lie had met his match. During this pause I was concealed behmd a tree, watching their manoeuvre in silence. Bruin, though evidently baffled, had a firm look, which showed he had not lost confidence in himself If the diffi- culty of the undertaking had once deceived him, he was preparing to go at it again. Accordingly, letting himself down upon all fours, he ran furiously at the alligator. The alligator was ready for him, and throwing his head and body partly around to avoid the onset, met Bruin half way, with a blow of his tail, that rolled him on the shells. Old Bruin was not to be put off by one hint ; three times, in rapid succession, he rushed at the alligator, and was as often repulsed in the same manner, being knocked back by each blow just far enough to give the alligator time to recover the swing of his tail, before he returned. The tail of the alligator sounded like a flail against the coat of hair on Bruin's head and shoulders, but he bore it without flinching, still pushing on to come to close holds with his scaly foe. He made his fourth charge with a degree of dexterity, which those who have never seen this clumsy animal exercising, would suppose him incapable of. This time he got so close to the alligator, before his tail struck him, that the blow came with half Jts usual effect The • 25 290 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. alligator was upset by the charge, and before he could recover his feet. Bruin grasped him round the boAy, below the fore legs, and holding him down on liis back, seized one of his legs in his mouth. The alligator was now in a desperate situation, notwithstanding his coat of mail, which is softer on his belly than his back, from which " The darted steel with idle sliivers flies." As a Kentuckian would say, "he was getting used up fast." Here, if I dared to speak, and had supposed he? could understand English, I should have utieiea ttie ru- couraging exhortation of the poet : — "Now, gallant kuig-ht, now hold thy own, No maiden's arms are round thee thrown." The alligator attempted in vain to bite; pressed dowt as he was, he could not open his mouth, the upper jaw oi which only moves, and his neck was so stiff he could nov turn his head short round. The amphibious beast fetcheo a screem, in despair ; but being a warrior, " by flood and by field," he was not yet entirely overcome. Writhing his tail with agony, he happened to strike it against a small tree, that stood next the Bayou ; aided by this purchase he made a convulsive flounder, which precipitated himself and Bruin, locked together, into the river. The bank, from which they fell, was four feet high, and the water below seven feet deep. The tranquil stream received the combatants with a loud splash, then closed over them in silence. A volley of ascendhig bubbles an- nounced their arrival at the bottom, where the battle end- ed. Presently Bruin rose again, scrambled up the bank, cast a glance back at the river, and made off*, dripping, to the cane-brake. I never saw the alligator afterwards, to know him no doubt he escaped in the water, which he certainly would not have done, if he had remained a few minutes longer on land. FRIGHTFUL ADVENTURE WITH A TIGER. 291 FRIGHTFUL ADVENTURE WITH A TIGER. " " Now, then, lads," exclaimed old Lorimer, bustling up, with his heavy rifle across his shoulder, " let's to work, and see who'll win the tiger skin. Bones of my ancestors ! boys, I never saw so pretty a place to kiil a tiger, in ali my life ; but come see. I think I have arranged it so he can hardly slip through our fingers." The place into which the tiger had been trailed was a small ravine at the back of the village, the tangled brush- wood, which grew out of the side, meeting over it in the form of an arch, so as to exclude the rays of the sun, even at mid-day. A few large trees grew along the banks, perched upon which, the sportsman might defy the rage of their formidable enemy ; and the ground, for several hundred yards on each side, was open and free from brushwood, so that the tiger could not break cover with- out exposing himself to a murderous fire. " Now, then, gentlemen, we have no time to lose," said Lorimer. " You must each climb into one of these trees. Ishmael and his gang will scour the ravine with rockets ; and the moment the tiger is afoot, you will be good enough to give the alarm, in order that the beaters may fall back to the shelter of the village. As to you, father longlegs," addressing the doctor, " I beg that you will keep your eyes open, and try, for once, to shoot hke a gentleman. By the beard of the prophet I if you allow the tiger to pass you, as you did the deer yesterday, I shall be tempted to send you a messenger from old ' kill-devil,' that will make you jump off your perch like an electrified frog." The doctor sprang to the nearest tree, into which he climbed with wonderiui agility ; and having perched him- self astride a comfortable branch, sat dangling his long legs, and grinning defiance, like an overgrown baboon. The rest of the party followed his example, and were soon perched on the various trees which skirted the ravine Old Lorimer alone remained on foot, being too unwieldy to attempt such feats of agility. " What do you intend to do, sir," inquired Mansfield 292 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. hailing him from tne tree ; " you are not going to remain on foot, are you ?" " Not exactly on foot," said Lorimer ; " I intend to sit on that bush," pointing to one, on a little rising ground, about two hundred yards from the ravine. " I shall look on, and if you all miss the tiger, I shall be ready to wipe your eye — so mind your hits." " You don't mean to say you will trust yourself on ihatbush?" inquired Mansfield, in astonishment. "Why, it is not three feet from the ground, and if the tiger charges, you are perfectly at his mercy." " It is not the most desirable seat in the world," replied the old gentleman, laughing ; " but it is better than nothing. The tiger is less likely to charge me here, than if I were on foot ; and, supposing he does come at me, I must just trust to Providence and old 'kill-devil,' as I have often done before. Here, Ishmael, just throw a cumbley over it, to keep out the thorns, and then help me to get up. So, so — that's very comfortable — now, my rifle, and then to work. Don't spare the rockets — singe his whiskers for him, the blackguard !" Ishmael grinned a fiendish smile, as he moved off, to obey his orders. The bush which Lorimer had selected for his seat, was one of those thorny shrubs, which, grow- ing in round isolated masses, become so densely matted and interwoven together as to afford an excellent seat, which, when covered with a thick blanket to defend one from the thorns, is almost as comfortable as a hair cushion. On the top of this sat old Lorimer, much to the amuse- ment of his younger companions, with his legs crossed under him, and his rifle resting on his knees, looking very happy, and very much like a Chinese mandarin, on a mantle-piece. Whiz — crack — away goes a rocKet, darting through the tangled brushwood in a zig-zag course, like a fiery serpent ; it is answered by a tremendous roar, which makes the earth tremble. Hurrah 1 a whole volley of rockets sweep the ravine, like a storm of fire. Now, then, he must show himself — nothing but a salamander can stand this. Every gun is cocked, and every eye is strained to catch a glimpse of the skulking savage. FRIGHTFUL ADVENTURE WITH A TIGEB " Look out, he is afoot !" shouted Mansfield, as a lOw growl and rustling in the bottom of the ravine announced that the tiger was at hand. " Be ready for a start, Ishmael, ^nd see that the beaters make a dash for the village the moment he shows himself." Again all was hushed in breathless silence, but no tiger appeared. "Confound the skulking brute," roared ok' Lonmer, hitching about the top of his bush m an agony of impatience. " Blaze away, Ishmael. give him more fire, man: blow the cowardly beast to the devil !" Again a shower ot rockets shook the ravine from end to end. Again the beaters rent the air with their shouts ; but still no tiger. Ishmael actually foamed with rage, and Mansfield, unable longer to restrain his impatience, sprang from the tree. " I see how it is," cried he, snorting like a war-horse. "He has got into the cave again, as these rascally tigers do when^they can. But though it be deep and dark as Ere- bus, I'll have him out. Here my hearties, lend a hand to cut away ^some of these bushes, that we may see what we are about." The bushes having been partly cleared away, so as to admit sufficient daylight, Mansfield cautiously de- scended into the ravine, closely followed by the trusty Ishmael. After a short search, they discovered a small rocky cave, in the bank of the ravine, the entrance to which was about four feet from the ground. " He must have taken shelter here," remarked Mansfield, " and if so, it strikes me I shall not be able to manage him. The en- trance to the cave being so high above the ground, I car, peep in, without showing any thing but my head ; and if I can catch the glare of his eyes, I think I can plant a bal oetween them, before he has time to make up his mind foi a charge." " It is a dangerous experiment," replied Ish mael, shaking his head, " but your fortune is great, Sahih, the tigers tremble at your presence; we shall try it.'' " Not both of us, Ishmael, you can be of no service to me here ; I must attempt it alone. But do you go and with- draw the beaters to a safe distance, and tell the gentlemen to be ready to pour in a volley, in case he should charge." Ishmael felt much inclined to grumble at this arrangement, which prevented his sharing in the adventure. But he well knew that Mansfield's ord^s were not to be disputed, 25* 294 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. and acconlingly withdrew, muttenng prayers, and invok- ing the aid oClhe pnjphet in his hehalf. Mansfield iiaving removed the caps from his rifle, to ascertain that the pow- der was well up in the tubes, replaced them with fresh ones, so as to prevent the possibility of his weapon missing fire. He then crept quietly along, till he was directly un- der the cave, and raising his head, f)eeped cautiously into the gloomy recess. At first all was impenetrable dark- ness ; but as his eye became gradually accustomed to the subdued light, he perceived two bright green orbs glaring upon him from the inmost recess of the cavern. Now, then, for a steady hand, thought Mansfield, as he slowly raised himself so as to bring his rifle to bear. A low, surly giowl, announced that the tiger was on the alert, and a certain impatient switching of the tail, which invariably precedes a determined charge, did not escape the practised ear of Mansfield. Full well he knew there was no time to be lost. Quickly, but steadily, the heavy rifle was raised to his shoulder, his finger was on the trig- ger — another instant would have sent a two ounce ball crashing through the tiger's skull, when a terrific roar burst from the cave ; a huge mass of yellow fur shot over his head, as if projected from some powerful engine — the rifle exploded in the air, and our hero found himself sprawl- ing on his back at the bottom of the ravine, and sti'ange to say, unhurt. With one bound, the tiger gained the top of the opposite bank, and, brushing through the tangled underwood, started across the open ground, at racing speed. A shower of balls saluted him as he made his ap- pearance ; but not a single shot took eflfect. The only chance now remained with old Lorimer, and every eye was fixed upon him, as " kill-devil" was brought to bear apon the tiger. " O I sir, hurra! — he's dead," shouted the doctor, almost screaming with delight, 'as "kill-devil" poured forth its deadly contents, and the wounded tiger, uttering a shrill roar, bounded high into the air. But this triumphant shout was changed to a groan of horror, as the enraged brute turned from his course, and dashed with terrific bounds towards the bush on which Lorimer was seated. Again his rifle was raised with the coolness of despair ; again tho FKIfiHTFUL ADVENTURE WITH A TIGER. 295 report was answered by a short, angry roar, announcing that the ball had taken effect ; but the tiger only dashed forward with increased speed. No power now seemed capable of saving old Lorinier By an immense spring the tiger dashed towards him, with all that terribleness of mien for which he is terrifically re- markable. Only those who have experienced those mo- ments of imminent peril, which men are sometimes called upon to encounter, can realize or imagine the world of agonizing feelings that pass in a moment through the mind of a spectator, who witnesses such a scene. Every rifle had been discharged, and the whole company seemed to be riveted to the spot where they sat or stood, in an anxiety too intense to be utterable ; and with their eyes fixed on the object who seemed thus doomed to destruction, with an interest so powerful, that though they felt the catastro- phe they were about to witness would create a most ex- quisite torture, yet they were unable to avert their look. With the desperation of a last hope, Lorimer raised his rifle, like a club, as the tiger gathered himself together for his last spring, with the intent to strike him, as he approach- ed ; but ere even that feeble effort of resistance could be made, the weight of the tiger, with the velocity of his mighty springs fell on him, and the last ray of expiring hfe seemed to be extinguished by the terribleness of the shock. Every one expired the long breath that for more than a minute they had held in the intenseness of their anxiety, as if now the catastrophe was past, when the sudden re- Dort of a rifle started every ear. The ragged ball whistled through the air, and the tiger, rearing up to his full height, fell gasping in his last agonies, and Lorimer started upon nis feet, with an agility, which the intensity of the excite- ment gave him, far beyond the ordinary limits to which his bulk and infirmities confined him. A simultaneous shout of triumph burst from the assembled multitude, as Mansfield stepped from the ravine, and dropping the butt end of his rifle to the ground, drew a long breath, like one who had just had a heavy load of anxiety removed from his mind. " JMy blessing on you for a trusty companion," murmured he, regarding his favorite weapon with a look of affection, as if it had been a living creature. *' You 296 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. have stood my friend in many a hard pinch, but never bc« fore did you put forth your beauties in so good a cause. There was life and death on that shot — I had but orfe bar- rel left, and had I failed — it makes me shudder to think what that poor old man would now have been." The moment it was ascertained that the tiger was un- able to rise, the beaters and villagers rushed down in a body, to glut their eyes with the dying struggles of their vanquished foe, and many were the curses and maledic- tions showered upon the dying tyrant, as he . lay, terrible even in death, still glaring fiercely on his tormentors, and making feeble efforts to growl, whilst the frothy blood bubbled in his throat, and choked his dying sobs. " God bless you, my boy," exclaimed old Lorimer, grasping Mansfield's hand in both of his, and squeezing it hard, whilst the tear of gratitude dimmed his eyes; "I have not words to thank you as I could wish, but I feel it, I feel it in the bottom of my heart, and my poor, dear, motherless child, will bless you and pray for you while she lives, foi havuiff saved her old father from a cruel death." BATTLE GROUND OF TIPPECANOE. There are few scenes in the western country so full of interest to the stranger, as the battle ground of Tippe- canoe. He who looks upon the page of his country's heroism, as the bright heraldry of a young and vigorous republic, and v>^hose bosom swells at the recital of those glorious deeds of daring bravery, which distinguished our frontier wars, cannot look unfeelingly on this interesting spot. His mind wanders back to those days of privation and hardship, which were endured by the western rangers, in their attempts to quell the haughty souls of our savage bonders ; and chords of memory and feeling are touched, to v'hich language is ^ncapable of giving expression. A" hour and a half's pleasant ride from the agreeable little village of Lafayette, (Indiana,) on the Wabash, will place you on the spot, and you will generally find some one in the neighbajrijOtod who will accompany you over K E E -0 - K U K , J THE BATTLE GROUND OF TIPPECANOE. 297 the ground, and point out to you the position of the (Toops during the battle ; the point of first attack by the enemy ; the rock upon which Daviess fell and ex- pired ; and the grave of the fallen. On the 20th of May, 1832, 1 visited the battle ground, in company with an elderly gentleman and his son, from Louisville, Kentucky. It was a clear, calm day, and, after a pleasant ride from Lafayette, we halted upon the memorable spot. Many of those who fell beneath the rifle fire of the dark-eyed Pottowattomie, and the blood-thirsty Shawnese, had been the intimate friends of Mr. H., my companion. He spoke of theii manly virtues with warmth and energy, and a tear fur- rowed down the old man's cheek, as he gazed upon the rude grave that contained their remains. The incidents of the battle are pretty generally known to the backwoodsmen, but if a sketch, gathered from one of the actors in the scene, can give any interest to this paper, there can be no impropriety in adding it here. General Harrison, with his forces, consistmg of a few hun- dred mounted Kentucky rangers, and a large number of foot soldiers, arrived on the evening previous to the en- gagement, at the Prophet's town, one mile from the battle ground. The few Indians that the troops found here, manifested a disposition to treat with General Harrison, and pointed out to him the spot on which the battle was subsequently fought, as a proper place for his encampment, where they promised the chiefs of the band should wait upon him on the following morning. Many of the officers doubted the faith of the Indians, and were incHned to camp in some other place. However, the site was a favor- able one ; our troops were much fatigued, from a contin- ued forced march for several days ; and, after making the necessary precautionary arrangements, the tents wera struck, and the camp-fires kindled. On either side of the encampment was a slight declivity, at the base of which a fork of the Tippecanoe creek mean- dered slowly through the prairie, and united a hundred yards or so, below the encampment. The soldiers slept with their rifles in their arms, prepared to nght at the word, should the Indians prove treacherous, and attempt an 298 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. attack. Before daylight the Indians advanced in a large body, and arranged themselves, unperceived, beneath tFie brow of the encampment hill, on both sides. A sentinel, at the extreme rear of the camp, was fired upon, toma- hawked, and scalped, before "alarm" had aroused the camp. Harrison shouted his men to arms, but the favor- able situation of the enemy prevented the fire of the whites from being at all destructive ; while, on every side, were falling the bravest of our men. Defeat stared the white man in the face, and the chill look of death was settling in every countenance. The bravest quailed and tottered be- neath the thunder of the savages' fire ; and the war-whoop rang upon the still morning air, as the knell of bright anti- cipations and glorious hopes. The chances of victory were against the white men, and the duskiness of the morn- ing preserved the enemy from the consequences of the firing of the forces. Memory wandered back to the fire- side of the soldier, and imagination pictured the widow and the orphan resting upon the charity of the cold world. Ai this critical juncture, Daviess shouted to his Kentucky rangers to follow him to the charge, as the only measure of success. His command was obeyed ; they rushed down the declivity upon the foe, on the left of the encampment, and received manfully the fire of the Indians. Daviess fell ; yet with his last breath, he cheered his men to victo- ry. One impulse, and the conquest is ours. The deter- mined spirit of the rangers struck terror to the savages ; the prediction of their prophet was proved false, and their line gave way. Numbers of the red men lay dead upon the spot. The retreating whoop of the fugitives started the remaining wing, and in a few moments the field was in the quiet possession of the white men. What a scene did the ground exhibit upon the return of daylight. Forty of the bravest and stoutest of that camp lay weltering in their gore ; and the groans of the wounded sounded awfully in the ears of the survivors. A deep grave was dug between two or three large oaks, and the fallen soldiers slept there together. No long funeral train accompanied the corses of the worthy dead to their last dwelhng place on earth. No aflfectionate wife bent over the couch of the fallen warrior, and wiped off the clammy BATTLE GROUND OF TIPPECANOE. 299 sA^'eat of death that gathered upon his manly, but stricken brow ; but brave and stern hearts were bowed low upon that battle ground, and many dxi unspoken prayer ascended to the throne of Omnipotence, that the worthy dead might be happy in a future world. The troops left the encampment the second morning after the engagement, and the ground was not visited by whi^e men for several weeks. It appeared, however, that the Indians had returned, so'ne few days after the battle and disinterred the remains of the dead bodies, stripped them of their clothing, and lf;ft their naked bodies exposed upon the ground. Up to 1821, their bones were bleach- ing upon the theatre of their glorious death, unhonored and unsepulchred. On the 4th of July, of that year, a nume- rous assemblage of persons, among whom were many sur- vivors of the battle, and relatives of the fallen, met upon the battle ground ; and having collected the scattered ana bleached bones, placed them together in one large coffin, bearing upon the lid the inscription in gilt letters, " Rest, warriors, rest !" and reinterred them, with the honors of war, upon the side of the hill, on the right of the engage- ment ground. No marble obelisk rears its gorgeous form above that grave ; no sculptured monument gives the story of their glorious death to the visitor ; but a far more holy feeling than the sight of such honor would conjure up, burns within the bosom of the American, as he gazes upon the rude mound of earth that is thrown up above their bones. " Lowly may be the turf that covers The sacred grave of their last repose, But oh ! there is a glory around it hovers, Broad as the daybreak, and bright as its close." A rude pannel fence is around the grave ; and the wmd whistles wild through the large oak that stands at the head of the enclosure. The memory of those who fell in that struggle will be cherished until America forgets to honor her brave forefathers ; till she loses the recollection of the deeds which have made her what she is. My companions and myself had stopped longer on the ground than we intended. As the old gentleman g^ave a last look at this interesting spot, he said, " Here is the death ground of Daviess, the brave and excellent Joe Daviess, 300 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. ' of Kentucky; of Owings, and of many others, as wortny fellows as ever fired a gun. God grant that they are now happy in heaven ;" and he repeated, with a melancholy cadence, the inscription upon the coffin, " Rest, warriors, rest !" as he turned to leave the memorable battle ground of Tippecanoe. UNPARALLELED BRAVERY OF A WOMAN. One of the most daring acts of villainy that has been recorded for some time past, was committed in Tennessee, by a negro fellow belonging to Mr. John Mathews, living five or six miles south of Columbia. The outrage was so great, the circumstances so revolting, and the presence of mind, bravery, self-possession, activity, strength, and skill, of the lady, on whom the murder was attempted to be per- petrated, so uncommon, and so almost unnatural in wo- man, that we cannot forbear giving all the circumstances, as related to us. Mr. Mathews was absent from home, and his wife, three small children, and the negro, composed the family the night this demon attempted to take the life of his mistress. Mr. M. was said to have a considerable sum of money, and there is scare a doubt but his negro, in partnership with some other, either white or black, had made a plot to take the life of Mrs. M. to get possession of the money. Mrs. Mathews, unconscious of danger, was attending to her usual business, when, early in the night, a whistle was two or three times heard at the window, the negro being in the house with his mistress, having just finished making a large fii-e. When the whistle was heard, the negro, pretending to be as much alarmed as his mistress, remarked, that he would go out and get the axe to defend themselves with, if danger should approach them. He did so, and placed it against the side of the house. In a short time, while Mrs. Mathews was stooping to pick up something she had dropped, tho negro caught her by the neck with one hand and reached the other for the axe, swearing he intended to kill her. She rose from her stooping posture, broke his UNPARALLELED BRAVERY OF A WOMAN". 301 gi asp, and threw him so far from her, by her quick motion and strength, as to be able to get the axe first, which she did, and fearing he might take it from her, pitched it out as far as she could in the dark, where she thought he could hardly again find it. The negro, thinking he could accom- plish the demoniacal purpose without it, again rushed at Mrs. M., with the intention of throwing her into the fire. He threw her upon the hearth, but she rose, as she says, with renewed strength, and strange as it may seem, threw him upon the floor. A scuffle for some minutes ensued, when the negro rather getting the advantage, got her out of the house, and by her hair, di'agged her some distance, m the direction of a pond, where he said he intended to drown her. Having a gate of bars to pass through, she there once more regained her feet, and determined to make another struggle for her life. He here thought of, and drew a large dirk-knife from his pocket, with which he hoped to despatch her. She saw it, and immediately, fearlessly, and vigorously grasped it. Each endeavored to wrest it from the other, in which neither succeeded. She finally, how- ever, turned his weapon upon himself, and although yet firmly grasped by each, she succeeded in cutting his throat. Thus it ended. He supposed his Hfe near enough ended, and left her. She immediately gathered up the children, and set out for the nearest neighbor's, where she gave the alarm, and a search for him was commenced. We learn ihat he has since been found, and that the wound in the ihroat is not quite severe enough to cause his death. The struggle lasted for a considerable time, and we ?iave given the particulars as near as we can recollect ihem. Mrs. Mathews certainly deserves a great deal of oraise for her conduct. Where is the woman in a thou- sand, that would not, from the great alarm, have surren- dered her life immediately into the hands of the demon' He told her, during the fight, that he had mad' i large fire for the purpose of burning her and her children in t that night, and at one time came very near putting Mr in it. 26 302 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. REMARKABLE PRESENCE OF MIND. On the banks of the Naugatuck, a rapid stream whicn rises in and flows through a very mountainous part of the state of Connecticut, a few years since, lived a respectable family, by the name of B . The father, though not a wealthy, was a respectable man. He had fought the bat- tles of his country in the revolution, and from his familiarity with scenes of danger and peril, he had learned that it is a ways more prudent to preserve and affect an air of con- fidence in danger, than to betray signs of fear ; and espe- cially so, since his conduct might have a great influence upon the minds of those about him. He had occasion to send a little son across the river to the house of a relation, on an errand, and as there was then no bridge, the river must be forded. The lad was familiar with every part of the fording- place, and when the water was low, which was at this time the case, would cross without danger. But he had scarcely arrived at his place of destination and done his errand, when suddenly, as is frequently the case in moun- tainous countries, the heavens became black with clouds, the winds blew with great violence, and the rain fell in torrents ; it was near night, and became exceedingly dark. By the kindness of his friends, he was persuaded to relin- quish the design of returning in the evening, and to wail until morning. The father suspected the cause of his de- lay, and was not over-anxious on account of any accident that might happen to him during the night. But he knew that he had taught his son to render the most obse- quious obedience to his father's commands ; that he pos- sessed a daring and fearless spirit, and would never be restrained by force ; he would, as soon as it should be sufficiently light in the morning, attempt to ford the river on his return. He knew also, that the immense quantity of water that appeared to be falling, would, by morning cause the river to rise to a considerable height, and make it dangerous even for a man, in the full possession of strength and fortitude, to attempt to cross it. He, there- ffr' "^Wi^Pift, " mmWM 'III w m liiii ^^.^M-J'i REMARKABLE PRESENCE OP^MIND. 305 fore, passed a sleepless night ; anticipating, with all a father's feelings, what might befall his child in the morning. The day dawned ; the storm had ceased, the wind was still, and nothing was to be heard, but the roar of the river. The rise of the river exceeded even the father's expecta- tions, and no sooner was it sufficiently light to enable him to distinguish objects across it, than he placed himself on the bank, to watch for the approach of his son. The son arrived on the opposite shore at the same moment, and was beginning to enter the stream. All the father's feel ings were roused into action, for he knew that his son was in the most imminent danger. He had proceeded too far to return ; in fact, to go forward or return was to incur the same peril. His horse had arrived in the deepest part of the channel, and was struggling against the current, down which he was rapidly hurried, and apparently mak- ing but little progress toward the shore. The boy became alarmed, and raising his eyes towards the landing-place, he discovered his father. He exclaimed, almost frantic with fear, "O! I shall drown, I shall drown!" "No!" exclaimed his father, in a stern and resolute tone, and dis- missing, for a moment, his feelings of tenderness, " if you do, I'll whip you to death ; cling to your horse." The son, who feared a father more than the raging elements, obeyed his command, and the noble animal on which he was mounted, struggling for some time, carried him safe to shore. " My son," said the glad father, bursting into tears, " remember hereafter, that in danger you must possess fortitude, and determining to survive, cling to the last hope. Had I addressed you with the tenderness and fear which I felt, your fate was inevitable ; you would have been carried away in the current, and I should have seen you no more." What an example is here ! The heroism, bravery, philosophy, and presence of mind, of this man, even eclipses the conduct of Cesar, when he said to hia boatman, Quid times ? Caesarem veiiis. 26* 306 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. ri-IE DUCHESS CAROLINE OF WURTEMBERG. The following singular story emanates from one of the Imperia Chamberlains, who alleges that he heard it re- lated b} Napoleon himself, one evening, at Malmaison. The conversation happening to turn oa the Princess of Wurtemberg, the emperor addressed to his chamberlain the following question : " How old is the present king of Wurtem.berg ?" " He is no longer a young man, sire. Frederick Wil- liam is seventy. He was born in 1734. In 1780, he married Princess Caroline, of Brunswick Wolfenbutel ; and he became a widower in September,. 1778." " Yes, he became a widower," remarked the emperoi The tone of voice in which Napoleon uttered these words, riveted the attention of every one present. A pause ensued, and the emperor broke silence by narrating the following story : — On the 4th of October, 1788, about 8 o'clock in the morning, a man called on M. Dietrich, the preteur* of Strasburg. The servant, when he entered to announce the visitor to his master, looked pale and terrified. " What is the matter, Franz," inquired the preteur. " Sir ," said the servant, trembling. " Why do you not answer ?" " Sir," replied Franz, " it is the executioner." " What can he want 1 No matter, show him in, and go away." The executioner of Strasburg was a man infinitely su- perior to those who in other countries exercise his fearful calling. He was pious, and well informed. He had stu- died surgery, and was skillful in curing fractures and setting broken limbs. His gratuitous services in this way had conferred on him a sort of popularity among the poorer classes. They pitied rather than despised him ; yet his presence seldom failed to excite an invincible feeling of terror. When introduced into the presence of the preteur, an expression of gravity, even greater than usual, was ob- servable on his countenance. * The functions of a preteur are equivalent to those of a mayor, but he IS invested vs^ith more extensive authority. THE DUCHESS CAROLINE OP WURTEMBERG. 307 " What have you to say to me ?" inquired M. Dietrich. " I come," replied the executioner, " to discharge a duty imposed on me by the imperative mandate of my con- science. I entreat, sir, that you will receive a disclosure which I wish to make to you, and that you will write it down as I deliver it. It is an affair of great importance, and I must state ii>in detail ; for on a due consideration of all the facts, I look for m.y justification." It will readily be supposed that these preliminary remarks excited the curiosity of the preteur. He imme- diately seated himself at his writing table, and the execu- tioner thus commenced his extraordinary disclosure : About a week ago, that is to say, on the night of the 26th of last month, I was at home in my retired dweUing, in the suburbs of Kiel, on the right bank of the Rhine. It was past midnight. I had gone to bed, and I was sud- denly startled by a loud knocking at my door. My old house-keeper being awakened by the noise, hurried down stairs to open the door. She was not alarmed, for I am often called up at all hours of the night, by poor persons who come to solicit those acts of service which I am too happy in being able to render to my suifering fellow crea- tures. I had also risen, and was proceeding down stairs, when I discovered that the poor old woman was disputing with two men, whose faces were masked, and who were holding a pistol to her throat. " Murder me," she exclaimed, " but spare my master." "No harm will betide him," said one of the two men. " On the contrary, he will be largely rewarded. But he must go with us immediately. His life depends on his compliance." Seeing me descending the staircase, the men rushed upon me, and leveled the pistol at my breast. In the first moment of my alarm, I imagined that they had come to take revenge on me for an execution which had been or- dered by the king, and a natural impulse prompted me to implore that they would spare my life. " Your life is not in danger," said they, " if you obey us punctually. But if you manifest the least hesitation, rest assured that your death is certain. Provide yourself with your best axe, and we must tie a bandage over your eyes ; be silent, ind 308 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. follow US." All this time the pistol was leveled at me. Resistance was vain, and I accordingly submitted to their commands. My eyes were bandaged, and I was helped into a carriage, into which the two strangers immediately seated themselves, and the horses set off at a gallop. 1 left my old house-keeper almost petrified with terror and amazement ; and as I drove off I heard one of the men tell her that if she did not carefully conceal her knowledge of their secret visit, my doom was sealed. I rode on in a painful state of perplexity. I commended myself to the Holy Virgin, to whom I mentally addressed a prayer. After having invoked the holy name of the mother of Christ, I felt my mind somewhat more at ease, and I tried to discover in what direction we were travel ing. On this point I could arrive at no satisfactory con- jecture ; but according to the best calculation that I could make, the journey must have occupied between eighteen and twenty hours. On reaching the place of our destina- tion, I was carefully assisted out of the carriage. The two strangers ranged themselves on either side of me, and each took hold of one of my arms. Having walked in this way for the space of a few minutes, we ascended a staircase, which appeared to be very spacious, judging from the re- sounding noise of our footsteps. I was then led into a large apartment, where the bandage was removed from my eyes. A sumptuous repast was served, consisting of the most exquisite dishes ; but I could not help remarking, that the allowance of wine was very sparing. At nightfall I was directed to hold myself in readiness to perform my duty as executioner, by decapitating a person who had been condemned to death. Though long inured to the painful duty which the law imposes on me, and though I sa.d never for a moment misapprehended the motive of my strange journey, j'^et, when that motive was thus formally announced, a thrill of horror unnerved me. But I recover- ed my presence of mind, and I was expostulating with all the energy I could command, when a person, whose voice I had not hitherto heard, said, in a tone of calm decision, *' do as you are required, and without hesitation ; other- wise you merely seal your own doom, without being able to avert that of tbe culprit." THE DUCHESS CAK^juiNE OP WrRTEMBERG. 309 I found that further protestation would oe vain, and, yielding to compulsion, 1 consented. I repent my weak* ness, and I bitterly reproach myself for it ; but it was cer- tainly a case in which the law of necessity was implacable. The axe was placed in my hands, a black veil was thrown over my head, and two men, grasping my arms, conducted me through a suit of several apartments. At length we entered a room larger than the rest, and there my con- ductors halted. The black veil was removed from my face, and I beheld in the center of the room a scaffold, raised to the height of about three feet from the floor. A black velvet drapery covered the wood work, and that part of the floor immediately around it, was strewed with a thick layer of red-colored saw-dust. I was in a painful state of anxiety, and bewildered in a maze of conjecture respecting the victim on whom I was to strike the fatal blow. My conjectures were soon at an end. In a few moments, a female was led, or rather carried into the room. She was of tall stature, and her complexion was brilliantly fair. Her light hair, of which she appeared to have a great profusion, was confined under a cap of black crape. Her dress, which was of black velvet, was con- fined with a purple silk cord ; her hands were also bound with silken cords, of the same color. Her face was con- cealed by a mask, so that no part of her person was visi- ble except her neck and shoulders, which were dazz'ingly white. She made no complaint and oflfered no resistance. As she approached, I perceived with increased horror, that her mouth was gagged. Eight or ten men, all of whom were masked, raised her on the scaffold ; she inclined her head, and laid it on the block. * * * * I need say no more ! I trust that heaven will forgive me. I doubt not that the victim was a person of illustrious rank, and 1 should not be surprised to hear that all the courts of Eu- rope have gone into mourning. Having performed my horrible task, I was conducted back to the apartment in which I had partaken of the re- past on my arrival. There I found the table replenished, and new bottles of wine placed on it. I sat down a few moments to compose myself, uncertain what was to be my fate, but perfectly resigned to the will of God. 310 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. After the lapse of a little time, I again stepped into the carriage, followed by my two masked companions. We journeyed all the night, and part of the following day. Nearly twenty hours elapsed before I reached my home, at the door of which I was set down, and a purse, contain- ing two hundred louis, was presented to me. Here is the money ; M. Dietrich, I place it in your hands, and beg you will make whatever use of it you think fit. I was expressly recommended to observe the most inviolable silence respecting this extraordinary event. " On your discretion," said the two masked men, " your safety de- pends. Any attempt to discover the secret of this afiair, will be utterly vain, and if you reveal to any one what has transpired, the disclosure will be at once fatal to yourself and to those who receive it." The preteur of Strasburg listened with deep interest and attention to the tragical and mysterious history related by the executioner. He declined to take charge of the two hundred louis which the executioner wished to lodge in bis hands. "If you will not receive the money," said tlie executioner, " I will dispose of it in paying for masses, and ^'elieving the wants of the poor." His deposition was read Dver to him by the preteur, and, after signing it, he took lis leave. As soon as he was gone, the preteur put the docum^int under cover, carefully sealed it, and sent it by a confiden- tial courier to the Baron de Breteuil, who was at the head of the French cabinet. Two weeks elapsed, and at the expiration of them, M Dietrich received a packet, transmitted to him by the gov ernor of Strasburg. It enclosed a letter from the min ister, M. de Breteuil, which was nearly in the following terms : " I have laid before the king the written copy of the de- position which you forwarded to me, and I have received his majesty's commands respecting it. It is the king's desire that the individual who made the disclosure shall keep the sum of money presented to him, and his ma- jesty adds to it a sum of equal amount, on condition that inviolable secrecy be observed respecting all that has Dassed." THE DUCHESS CAROLINE OF WURTEMBERG. 311 " Now," pursued Napoleon, " I will give you the key to this adventure, which is of a nature not so rare as may be supposed, in the history of courts. " The Duke of Wurtemberg's first wife, who was a beautiful and accomplished woman, was accused of re- garding with too favorable an eye, a young page in the service of the duke. This page, emboldened by the kind- ness which the princess extended to him, took the libcrtj' of quitting the ducal slates, without the permission of his illustrious master. On arriving at the frontier, he alighted at an inn, where lie ordered supper. On sitting down to table, he saw inscribed on one of the Dresden china plates, the words. Return, or tremble ! He did return. At the first meal to which he sat down in the palace, a beautiful glass of rock crystal v*'as presented to him, and on it were inscribed, in letters of gold, the words, Deparf, or tremble ! He would have been wise had he obeyed this second man- date as readily as he did the first ; but love is venturous, and the page remained. " The page lodged in the palace ; his chamber was at the uppermost part of the building ; the door opened into a long corridor, or passage, beneath which there was a similar corridor, or passage, at every story, down to the ground of the palace. It was known that the page every night passed along this corridor to a private staircase, which led to the apartments of the princess. A most sin- gular plan was devised for his destruction. In each of these corridors, descending from story to story, a few boards were removed from the flooring, which boards were afterwards neatly fitted into their places, but left unfastened, so as to form a succession of trap-doors. The unfortunate page, having no idea of the gulf that was ready to open beneath his feet, was at the usual hour hur rying to his apartments. He had not advanced more than a few yards, when the flooring gave way under his feet. He struggled to save himself, but in vain ; he was dashed from a fearful height to the flooring of the last corridor, immediately above the princess' chamber. The ceiling of this apartment had, of course, been left untouched ; but the removal of the flooring above it rendered it sufficiently fragile. It immediately yielded beneath the weight of the 312 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. falling body ; and in another moment, the lifeless and mu tilated remains of the page lay at the feet of the princess. " The sudden horror rendered her for some time insensi- ble : her attendants, alarmed by the dreadful crash, rushed in, and the apartment was soon filled by persons from the most distant parts of the palace. Most of them were lost in conjectures respecting the cause of the tragical event : but there were a few to whom that cause was sufficiently well known. These latter attributed it to the decayed state of the building ; and under pretence of preventing any recurrence of the accident, all the corridors were fastened up, until the flooring was completely repaired. Thus the multitude regarded the affair merely as a me- lancholy accident, unattended by any mysterious circum- stances. The princess, recovering herself sufficiently, understood the fate that awaited her, and resolved to quit the domain of her father-in-law. She communicated hei intention to her principal fenivie de chajnhre, whom she implored to assist her in escaping from enemies, in whose hands she felt assured that her life was not secure. The femmede chamhre threw herself at her mistress' feet, and thanked her for this proof of her confidence. She assured the princess that she was both able and willing to aid her. Her brother, she said, was attached to the police depart- ment, and with the assistance of his agents, it would be easy to rescue the princess from her persecutors. It was agreed that on the following night the princess and her attendant should escape from the palace by a subterrane- ous passage, which led through some ancient vaults, to a retired house beyond the boundaries of the city. There a carriage was to be in readiness for them. " Assured of her own safety, the unfortunate princess was reflecting with bitter regret on the fate of her lover, when she received a message from her husband, request- ing an interview with her. Instead of granting this inter- view, she listened only to the dictates of her passion and her pride. She wrote to the sovereign master of her des- tiny a note, to the following effect: " ' You have shed the blood of a blameless victim. You will have to answer for his death in the presence of God. where, probably, vou will likewise have to answer for THE DUCHESS CAROLINE OF WURTEMBERG. 313 mine. If you were capable of being just, I would bow -O you as my judge ; but I feel too well convinced that you desire to be, not my judge, but my executioner. I will not see you ; and may heaven's vengeance await you 1' " Such a letter could not fail to exasperate the already irritated feelings of a betrayed husband. Night arrived. The princess had collected in a large casket, her diamonds, her gold, and her letters. She retired to rest at her usual hour ; but no sooner had her attendants withdrawn, than she arose and dressed herself, assisted by her confidential femme de chamhre. She wrapped herself in a large silk cloak, such as was usually worn by females of the middle rank, in that part of Germany. She hoped, by help of this disguise, to elude observation. Quitting the ducal apart- ments, the princess and her attendant descended a narrow staircase, and then passed along a corridor, which was parallel with the kitchens, which received its light from them. Some of the servants were up and engaged in theii work, but the princess courageously pursued her course. " There still remained a long range of passages to be passed, when, on opening a door, the keys which the femme de chamhre carried fell from her hand. The noise alarmed the fugitives : fortunately, it was heard only by themselves ; they collected their keys and proceeded. " They now entered a spacious vault, in which they had advanced some distance, when they were stopped at a closed door. This was the last door they had to pass within the walls of the castle. What was their distress on finding that none of their keys would fii the lock ! " They naturally concluded that this key must have fallen along with the rest, and that they had omitted to pick \\ up. It was agreed that the femme de chamhre should go back to seek it, and that the princess should wait until she returned. She waited alone, and in profound darkness. A considerable time had elapsed, and the princess listened anxiously for the approaching footsteps of her companion ; but she listened in vain. Unable longer to endure the painful suspense, the princess resolved to go in search of her attendant. But how or where was she to find the door of the vault? Excess of fear frequently inspires courage. To find the outlet of the vault, she thought she 27 314 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. could adopt no better plan than to walk straight foi ward until ner hands came in contact with the wall. Having reached the wall, she kept her hand upon it, and groped her way along until she reached an opening, which assured her that she had gained the door. She entered a narrow passage communicating with the vault, and was creeping along cautiously, in order to avoid stumbling against some fragments of stone which lay scattered here and there ; suddenly she was startled by the sound of footsteps above lier head, and a gleam of light penetrating through a nar- row grating, rendered her in an instant motionless as a statue. The sound of voices was heard, and in a few mo- ments the princess was roughly seized by two hands, and dragged from the spot in which she had been standing, transfixed with terror. The violence of her assailants roused her from her insensibility ; she shrieked, struggled, and called loudly for help. Her cries were unheeded ; she was thrown brutally on the ground, and bound hand and fool. Her supplications for mercy were unheeded ; she was enveloped in a cloak, or rather sack, of black satin ; and, to complete the outrage, a gag was forced into her mouth. From that moment, God alone heard her complaints." Here the emperor ceased to speak, and after a few mo- ments' silence the empress said, with profound emotion, " Gracious heaven ! was this the fate of the first wife of the Duke of Wurtemberg ? And was she the victim who perished by the hand of the executioner of Strasburg ?" "So report affirmed," resumed Napoleon. "But the public voice is always so ready to calumniate the great, that we ought not to give too ready credence to popular rumor. The mention of the name of the elector of Wur- temberg reminded me of this sad story. I related it be« cause I knew it would interest you ; but for its truth or falsehood, I do not take upon me to be responsible. Be lieve it or not, as you please." THE TIGER — OR, LIFE IN A JUNGLE. 3L5 THE TIGER— OR, LIFE IN A JUNGLE. BT AN OFFICER OF THE EAST INDIA COMPANY. I WAS encamped a few miles to the eastward of this spot, settling a disputed boundary on the frontier, in a very tigerish country, where it happened. My people had been out every day on the trail of a wandering tiger, which had been doing a deal of mischief; but they failed to mark him down, and on the last day I could remain, I resolved to make one more attempt to destroy him, by watching at night. The spot I selected was the edge of a tank, where he used to drink. There was a large tamarind tree on its banks, and here I took my post. A village Shikaree ac- companied me, and soon after sunset, we took up our position on a branch, about twelve feet from the ground. I should first mention that we had fastened an unfortunate bullock under the tree for bait. Well, we remained quietly on our perch for a couple of hours, without any stirring. The moon had arisen, and so clear was the light, that you could see the jackals at the distance of half a mile, sneak- ing along towards the village. It might be about eight o'clock, when a party of Brinjarries passing by, stopped to water their bullocks at the tank. They loitered for some time, and becoming impatient, I got off the tree with a single ritle in my hand, and walked towards them, saying that I was watching a tiger ; upon which they started off immediately. I was sauntering back to my post, never dreaming of danger, when Shikaree gave a low whistle and at the same moment a growl rose from some bushes between me and the tree. To make my situation quite decided, I saw his black arm pointing nearly straight under him, on my side of his post. It was very evident that I could not regain the tree, although I was within twenty paces of it. There was nothing for me to do but to drop behind the bush, and leave the rest to Providence. It would have been certain death to run. A tiger is fai more alert by night than by day, and if I had moved then, he would have had me to a certainty ; besides, I trusted to his killing the bullock and returning to the jungle as 316 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. soon as he had finished his supper ; and so he would, if 1 had not been a fool. It was terrible to hear the moans of the wretched bullock, when the tiger approached. He would run up to the end of his rope, making desperate exertions to break it, and then lie down, shaking in every limb, and bellowing in a most piteous manner. The tiger saw him plain enough, but suspecting something wrong, he walked growling round the tree, as if he did not ob- serve him. At last, he made a fatal spring, with a horrid shriek rather than a roar. I could hear the tortured bul- lock struggling under him, uttering faint cries, which be- came more and more feeble every instant, and the heavy breathing, half growl, half snort of the monster, as he hung to his neck, sucking his Ufe's blood. I know not what pressed me at the moment, but I could not resist the temptation of a shot. I crept softly within ten yards of him, and kneeling behind a clump of dates, took deliberate aim at his head, while he lay with his nose buried in the bullock's throat. He started with an angry roar from the carcass, when the ball hit nim.- He stood listening for a moment, then dropped in front of me, uttering a sullen growl. There was nothing but a date bush between us ; I had no weapon but my discharged rifle. I felt for my pistols ; they had been left on the tree — then I thought that my hour was come, and all the sins of my life flashed, with dreadful distinctness, across my mind. I muttered a short prayer, and tried to prepare for death, which seemed to be inevitable. My peon, as I afterwards learnt, poor fellow, was try mg in vain to fire my double rifle ; but all my locks have bolts which he did not understand, and he could not cock it. He was a good Shikaree, and knew that was my only chance ; so when he could do no good, he did nothing If Mohakeen or Fukeera had been there, they would soon have relieved me, but I had sent them both in another fUrection that day. Well, some minutes passed thus. The tiger made no attempt to come at me ; a ray of hope cheered me — he n.ight be dying. I peeped through the branches, but my heart sunk within me, when his bright green eyes met mine, and his hot breath absolutely blew upon my face. I slipped back upon my knees in despair THE MIDNIGHT REVEL. 319 antJ a gtewl warned me that even that slight movement was noticed. It was not his nature to attack me at once. A tiger is a suspicious, cowardly brute, and will seldom charge, un- less he sees his prey distinctly. Now I was quite con- cealed by the date leaves, and while I remained perfectly quiet, I had still a chance. Suspense was becoming intol- ierable. My rifle lay useless by my side : to attempt to load it would have been instant death. My knees were bruised by the hard gravel, but I dared not move a joint. The tormenting musketoes swarmed round my face ; but I feared to raise my hand to brush them off". Whenever the wind ruffled the leaves that sheltered me, a hoarse growl grated through the stillness of the night. Hours, that seemed years, rolled on. I could hear the village going clock strike each hour of that dreadful night, which 1 thought would never end. At last came the welcomed dawn, and oh I how gladly did I hail the fii'st streaks of light that shot up from the horizon, for then the tiger rose and sulkily walked away to some du-'tance. I felt that the danger was over, and rose with a fee/ig of relief, which I cannot describe. I sent off the peon for the elephant immediately, and be- fore eight o'clock, old Golian had arrived. We started immediately in pursuit, and in less than half an hour it was all over with him. The tiger rushed to meet me as soon as I entered the cover, and one ball in the chest dropped liim dead. It was a great satisfaction to see the brute fall after the cruel way in which he had bullied me, w ^ \yig me like a rat in a trap, for nine hours. THE MIDNIGHT REVEL. The wind of November whistled shrill and cold among the rocky precipices that jutted over the mountain road from Aylesbury, towards Northumberland, as, at the de- cline of day, two travellers, on horseback, were crossing with weary pace the long range of ridges towards the great elbow of the Susquehanna ; and notwithstanding that tlu 320 EXPLOlTis AND ADVEJNTURES. clouds lay heavily on the dark and distant mountain tops, and the shadows of approaching night gathered rapidly, they paused upon the northern extremity of the last eminence, dismounted, and appeared to be taking a survey of the country around them — a country embodying some of the most grand and sublime scenery in nature. To the north and east and south, one vast extent of forest lay out- stretched, broken and diversified by hill and valley, now dimly seen, but not less interesting in its aspect. In one direction was to be seen seven stupendous pyramidic piles : pushing their pined crowned summits through the black clouds, they seemed fit habitations for the fierce spirits of the restless elements, and one could almost fancy the angels of the tempest gathering to their awful dwelUngs in those unvisited realms, a pniverse of stormy clouds ; while in the west a peaceful river flowed away in calm and un- broken sohtude, through its devious course. Such was the scene the travellers were left surveying, when twihght fol lowed the declining sun, and the dreary night came swift upon the transient glooming. A long three miles from this, on a dim and narrow road, was a small public house, called in those days, the " Inn of the Forest." There was a thin settlement from this for some miles on, chiefly men of the rudest cast in life, often honest and kind in their way, but who, nevertheless, brooked not the control of law, and living far off" from -city and town, enjoyed their game, and were themselves the only umpires of each other's rights and wrongs : such as these made up the company that gathered in the tavern Ibat night, and as the winds blew louder, and the weather grew colder without, so did their noise and their rioting, and the turbulence of their spirits, increase within. Mingling with this tumultuous assembly around the bar room fire, and the long card table stretched out before it, was now to be seen the two strangers ; they were wrapped up in fur-hunting cloaks, and while one of them took part in the boisterous laugh, and played his game at the card lable, and drank freely, the other stretched himself to sleep m a corner. The more sociable stranger soon acquired the confidence of his new companions ; and as he himself professed to be a tavern keeper, he gained the special favoi THE MIDNIGHT REVEL. 32-. of the landlord, a black whiskered, down cast, dark look- ing mail, upon whose countenance the stamp of" vice was fixed, and who was the loudest and most clamorous in the circle, and drank, and played, and boasted, and cursed, with a kind of desperate and frenzied infatuation. These rioting^ were kept up throughout the midnight hours ; and while the wearied and inebriated guests, one by one, dropped asleep, and while, without, the storm sung in melancholy and plixintive sweetness through the seared pine trees, that single stranger kept the little circle he had gathered round him by ihe hre, in fixed and wakeful atten- tion to harrowing tales of hell-devised murders, and fear- ful retributions, and walking ghosts, and marvellous facts, brought to the light of day by supernatural agencies ; and detailed a thousand instances to prove that Murder, though it hath no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ. In vain the host endeavored to turn, at every period, the subject. In vain he stirred the dying embers, and in- vited the guests to sleep. In vain he trembled and turned pale ; the traveler seemed invincible, and at every change, murder and its bloody consequences were still his theme, and still his eye was fixed on the disquieted features of the host. It was dark and penetrating ; and his voice grew hoarse as he bid them hearken to the screeching wind. It seemed to him, he said, to be burdened with a voice ; in the words of Macbeth, " Still it cried, sleep no more, to all the house." The company started and listened ; some thought they heard the voice, and some fancied they distinguished those very words. What can it mean ? was the inquiry that went round. " Ilai'k," said vhe stranger, " heard you not .hat ? listen !" " Rolland, Rulland, a mother and six inno- deiit children murdered by your hand., summon, you to the grave with tliem !" A heavy charge, said he, as he turned towards the host, who, startled at the awful import of the words, rose in wild agitation, and clenching his fists, hal- loed, as to the voice — " If I slew you, it was at another's instigation, and the money I got h\ it I buried in the 322 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. rapids of the Susquehanna !" "Yet for that crime," said the other stranger, who had till now laid silent, and appa- rently asleep, " by virtue of a state's warrant, and in the name of the commonwealth of Pennsylvania, we arrest you, Dubois Rolland, to answer at the bar of your coun- try 1" And as he said it, he deliberately rose, drew a pair of double barreled pistols from his cloak, and calmly laid them on the table before him ; while the other, throwing off his loose garment, stood before the astonished man, in the garb of an officer of justice, completely armed with dirk and pistols. Resistance was in vain ; the murderer was seized and carried to the skirts of the adjoining wood, where he was mounted on horseback, secured, carried thirty miles, and lodged in jail before ten o'clock the next morning. This was the plan adopted and executed by the mem- bers of a weak village police, in a country where the supremacy of the law had often to be maintained rather by stratagem than open force, and by which was brought to justice and the scaffold, one of the most bloody villains that ever hung upon the gallows ; a man who had mur- dered, according to his own confession, afterwards made, a mother and her orphan family, for a price paid him by a relative who was the next heir to a small and petty estate. FEMALE INTREPIDITY. About twenty or thirty years since, a gentleman named Webster, who lived in the Woodlands, a wild, unculti- vated, barren range of hills in Derbyshire, bordering upon the confines of Yorkshire, had occasion to go from home. The family, besides himself, consisted of the servant man, a young girl, and the housekeeper. At his departure, he gave his man a strict charge to remain in the house, with the females, and not on any account to absent himself at night, until his return. This the man promised to do ; and Mr. W. proceeded on his journey. At night, how- ever, the man went out, notwithstanding all the earnest entreaties and remonstrances of the housekeeper to the FEMALE INTREPIDITY. 323 contrary ; and not coming in, she and the servant girl, at the usual time, went to bed. Some time in the night, they were awakened by a loud knocking at the door. The housekeeper got up, went down stairs, and inquired who was there, and what was their business ? She was informed that a friend of Mr. W., being benighted, and the night wet and stormy, requested a night's lodging. She forth- with gave him admittance, roused up the fire, led his horse into the stable, and then returned to provide something to eat for her guest, of which he partook,'and was then shown to his chamber. On returning to the kitchen, she took up his great-coat in order to dry it, when, perceiving it to be, as she thought, very heavy, curiosity prompted her to ex- amine the Jackets, in which she found a brace of loaded pistols, and their own large carving knife ! Thunderstruck by this discovery, she immediately perceived what sort of a guest she had to deal with, and his intentions. How- ever, summoning up all her courage and resolution, she proceeded softly up stairs, and, with a rope, fastened, as well as she could, the door of the room in which the villain was ; then went down, and in great perturbation of mind awaited the event. Shortly after a man came to the win- dow, and in a low, but distinct tone of voice, said, " Are you ready ?" She grasped one of the pistols with a despe- rate resolution, presented it to his face, and fired ! The report of the pistol alarmed the villain above, who attempt- ed to get out of the room, but was stayed in his purpose by her saying, " Villain, if you open the door, you are a dead man." She then sent the servant girl for assistance, while she remained, with the other pistol in her hand, guarding the chamber door. When help arrived, the vil- lain was taken into custody ; and, on searching without, they found the servant man shot dead. Another villain, who was taken shortly after, met with his deserts ; and the housekeeper, who had acted with such fidelity and guch unparalleled intrepidity, was united to Mr. Webstei 324 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. HEROISM OF MADAM2 LAVERGNE. The beautiful and accomplished Madame Lavergnt had been married but a very short time to M. LavergnOj governor of Longwy, when that fort surrendered to tiie Prussians. The moment Longwy was retaken by the French, the governor was arrested, and conducted to one of the prisons of Paris. Madame Lavergne followed to the capital. She was then scarcely twenty years of age, and one of the loveliest women of France. Her husband was upwards of sixty ; yet his amiable qualities first won her esteem, and his tenderness succeeded to inspire her with an affection as sincere and fervent as that which he possessed for her. That dreadful epoch of the revolution had already ar- rived, when the scaffold reeked daily with the blood of its unfortunate victims ; and while Lavergne expected to be summoned before the dreadful tribunal, he fell sick in his dungeon. This accident, which at any other moment would have filled the heart of Madame Lavergne with grief and inquietude, elevated her hope and consolation. She could not believe there existed a tribunal so barba- rous as to bring a man before the judgment-seat, who was suffering under a burning fever. A perilous disease, she imagined, was the present safeguard of her husband's life ; and she promised herself, that the fluctuation of events would change his destiny, and finish in his favor that which nature had so opportunely began. Yain expectation ! the name of Lavergne had been irrevocably inscribed on the fatal list of the 1 7th Germinal of the 2d year of the repub- lic, June 25, 1794 ; and he must on that day submit to his fate. • Madame Lavergne, informed of the decision, had re course to tears and supplications. Persuaded that she could soften the hearts of the representatives of the peo- ple, by a faithful picture of Lavergne's situation, she pre- sented herself before the committee of general safety; she demanded that her husband's trial should be delayed whom she represented as a prey to dangerous and cruel disease, deprived of his strength, of his faculties, and o*" all HEROISM OF MADAME LAVERGNE. 325 those powers either of body or mind, which could enable hini to confront his intrepid and arbitrary accusers. " Imagine, oh ! citizens," said tlie agonizing wife of Lavergne, " such an unfortunate being as 1 have de- scribed, dragged before a tribunal about to decide upon his life, while reason abandons him, while he cannot un- derstand the charges brought against him, nor has suffi- c.ent power of utterance to declare his innocence. " His accusers, in full possession of their moral and phy- sical strength, and already inflamed with hatred against him, are instigated by his helplessness to more than ordi- nary exertions of malice; while the accused, subdued by bodily suftering and mental infirmity, is appalled or stupi- fied, and barely sustains the dregs of his miserable exist- ence. Will you, O citizens of France, call a man to trial while in the phrensy of delirium ? Will you summon him, who, perhaps, at this moment, expires upon the bed of pain, to hear that irrevocable sentence, which admits of no medium between liberty and the scaffold ? And if you unite humanity with justice, can you sufler an old man " At these words, every eye was turned on Madame Lavergne, whose youth and beauty, contrasted with an aged and infirm husband, gave rise to very differ- ent emotions in the hearts of the members of the commit- tee, from those which she had hoped to inspire in them. They interrupted her with coarse jests and indecent rail- lery. One of the members assured her, with a scornful smile, that young and handsome as she was, it would not be so difficult as she appeared to imagine, to find means of consolation for the loss of a husband, who, in the com- mon course of nature, had lived ah'eady long enough. Another, equally brutal, and still more ferocious, added, that the fervor with which she pleaded the cause of her husband, was an unnatural excess ; and therefore, the committee could not attend to her petition. Horror, indignation, and despair, took possession of the soul of Madame Lavergne : she had heard the purest and most exalted affection, for one of the worthiest of men, contemned and vilified as a degraded appetite ; she had been wantonly insulted, while demanding justice, by the administrators of the laws of a nation ; and she rushed in 28 326 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. silence from the presence of those inhuman men, to hide the bursting agonies of her soul. One faint ray of hope yet rose to cheer the gloom of Madame Lavergne's de- spondency. Dumas was one of the judges of the tribunal and him she had known previous to the revolution. Her repugnance to seek this man in his new career, was sub- dued by a knowledge of his power, and the hopes of his mfluence. She threw herself at his feet, bathed them with her tears, and conjured him, by all the claims of mercy and humanity, to prevail on the tribunal to delay the trial of her husband till the hour of his recovery. Dumas re- plied coldly, that it did not belong to him to grant the favor she solicited, nor should he choose to make such a request of the tribunal ; then, in a tone somewhat ani- mated by insolence and sarcasm, he added, "And is it then so great a misfortune to you, madam, to be delivered from a troublesome husband of sixty, whose death will leave you at liberty to employ your youth and charms more usefully ?" Such a reiteration of insult roused the unfortunate wife of Lavergne to desperation ; she shrieked with insupport able anguish, and, rising from her humble posture, she ex- tended her arms towards heaven, and exclaimed, " Just God, will not the crimes of these atrocious men awaken thy vengeance ? Go, monster," she cried to Dumas, " 1 no longer want thy aid ; I no longer want thy pity ; aAvay to the tribunal ; there will I also appear ; then shall it bo known whether I deserve the outrages which thou, and thy base associates have heaped upon me." From the presence of the odious Dumas, and with the fixed determination to quit a life that had now become hateful to her, Madame Lavergne repaired to the hall of the tribunal ; and, mixing with the crowd, waited in silence for the hour of trial. The barbarous proceedings of the day commences. M. Lavergne is called for. The jailors support him thither on a matress ; a few questions are proposed to him ; to which he answers, in a feeble and dying voice ; and sentence of death is pronounced upon him. Scarcely had the sentence passed the lips of the judge, when Madame Lavergne cried, with a loud shnek, " Vive le Roi !" The persons nearest the place wherein she stood. HEROISM OF MADAME LAVERGNE. 327 c?agcrly surrounded, and endeavored to silence her ; but the more the astonishment and alarm of the multitude augmented, the more loud and vehement became her cries of \ive le Roi. The guard was called and directed to lead her away. She was followed by a numerous crowd, mute with consternation and pity. But the passages and staircase still resounded, every instant, with Vive le Roi, iill she was conducted into one of the rooms belonging to the court of justice, into which the public accuser came, to interrogate her on the motives of her extraordinary conduct. " I am not actuated," she answered, " by any sudden mpulse of despair, or revenge for the condemnation of M. Lavergne ; but from the love of royalty, which is rooted m my heart. I adore the system that you have destroyed. J do not expect any mercy from you, for I am your enemy. I abhor your republic, and will persist in the confession I nave publicly made, as long as I live." Such a declaration was without reply. The name of Madame Lavergne was instantly added to the list of sus- pected. A few minutes afterwards, she was brought before the tribunal, where she again uttered her own accusation, snd was condemned to die. From that instant, the agita- ijjon of her spirits subsided ; serenity took possession of her ^ind ; and her beautiful countenance announced only the oeace and satisfaction of her soul. On the day of execution, Madame Lavergne first as- cended the cart, and desired to be so placed that she might fiehold her husband. The unfortunate Lavergne had fallen into a swoon, and was in that condition, extended upon straw in the cart, at the feet of his wife, without any signs Df life. On the way to the place of execution, the motion of the cart had loosened the bosom of Lavergne's shirt, and exposed his breast to the scorching rays of the sun, until his wife entreated the executioner to take a pin from her handkerchief and fasten his shirt. Shortly afterwards^ JMadame Lavergne, whose attention never wandered from her husband for a single instant, perceived that his senses returned, and called him by his name. At the sound of that voice, whose melody had so long been withheld from him, Lavergne raised his eyes, and fixed them on her, with < 328 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. a look at once expressive of terror and affection. *' Be not alarmed," she said, " it was your faithful wife, who called you. You know I could not live without you, and we are going to die together." Lavergne burst into tears of gratitude ; sobs and tears relieved the oppression of his heart ; and he became able once more to express his love and admiration of his virtuous wife. The scaffold, which was intended to separate, united them forever. THE BURIED ALIVE. 1 HAD been for some time ill of a low and hngenng fever. My strength gradually wasted, but the sense of life seemed to become more acute, as my corporeal pow- ers became weaker. I could see by the looks of the doctor that he despaired of my recovery ; and the sofl and whispering sorrow^ of my friends taught me that I had nothing to hope. One day, towards the evening, the crisis took place. I was seized with a strange and indescribable quivering ; a rushing sound was in my ears. I saw around my couch innumerable strange faces ; they were bright and vision- ary, and without bodies. There was light and solemnity and I tried to move, but could not. For a short time a terrible confusion overwhelmed me, and when it passed off, all my recollection returned with the most perfect dis- tinctness ; but the power of motion had departed. I heard the sound of weeping at my pillow, and the voice of the nurse say, " He is dead." I cannot describe what I felt at these words. I exerted my utmost power of volition to stir myself, but I could not move even an eyelid. Aftei a short pause, my friend drew near, and sobbing, and con- vulsed with grief, drew his hand over my face, and closed my eyes. The world was then darkened, but I still could hear, and feel, and suffer. When my eyes were closed, I heard by the attendants that my friend had left the room, and I soon after found ik\e undertakers were preparing to habit me in the gar mcnts of the grave. Their thoughtlessness was more aw* THE BURIED ALIVE. 329 tul than the grief of my friends. They laughed at one another as they turned me from side to side, and treated what they beUeved a corpse with the utmost appalling ribaldry. When they had laid me out, these wretches retired, and the degrading formality of affected mourning commenced. For three days, a number of friends called to see me. I heard them in low accents speak of what I was ; ana more than one touched me with his finger. On the thira day, some of them talked of the smell of corruption in the room. The coffin was procured — I was lifted and laid in — my friend placed my head on what was deemed its last pillow and I felt the tears drop on my face. When all who had any peculiar interest in me had for a short time looked at me in the coffin, I heard them re- tire ; and the undertaker's men placed the lid on the cof- fin, and screwed it down. There were two of them pre- sent ; one had occasion to go away before the task was done. I heard the fellow who was left, begin to whistle, as he turned the screw nails ; but he checked himself, and finished the work in silence. I was then left alone — every one shunned the room. I knew, however, that I was not yet buried ; and though darkened and motionless, I had still hope ; but this was not permitted long. The day of interment arrived — I felt the coffin lifted and borne away — I heard and felt it placed in the hearse. There was a crowd of people around — some oF them spoke sorrowfully of me. The hearse be- gan to move — I knew that it carried me to the grave. It halted, and the coffin was taken out. I felt myself car- ried on shoulders of men, by the inequality of the motion. A pause ensued. I heard the cords of the coffin move — I felt it swing as dependent by them — it was lowered, and rested on the bottom of the grave — the cords were drop- ped upon the coffin lid — I heard them fall. Dreadful was the effort I then made to exert the power of action, but my whole frame was immovable. Soon after, a few handfuls of earth were thrown upon the coffin ; then there was another pause ; after which the shovel was employed, and the sound of the rattling 28* 330 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. mould, as it covered me, "was far more tremendous than thunder. But I could make no effort. The sound grad- ually became less and less, and by a surging reverberation m the coffin, I knew the grave was filled up, and that the sexton was treading in the earth, slapping the grave with the fiat of his spade. This too ceased, and then all was silent. I had no means of knowing the lapse of time — and tlie silence continued. This is death, thought 1, and am I doomed to remain in the earth till the resurrection ? Pre- sently the body will fall into corruption, and the epicurean worm, that is "only satisfied with the flesh of man, will come to partake of the banquet that has been prepared for him with so much solicitude and care. In the con- templation of this hideous thought, I heard a low and un- der sound in the earth over me, and I fancied that the worms and the reptiles of death were coming, and the mole and the rat of the grave would soon be upon me. The sound continued to grow louder and nearer. Can it be possible, I thought, that my friends suspect they have buried me too soon ? The hope was truly like light burst- ing through the gloom of death. The sound ceased, and presently I felt the hands of some dreadful being, working about my throat. They dragged me out of the coffin by the head. I felt again the living air, but it was piercingly cold'; and I was car- ried swiftly away — I thought to judgment, perhaps to perdition. When borne to some distance, I was then thrown down like a clod — it was not upon the ground. A moment after I found myself on a carriage — and by the interchange of two or three brief sentences, I discovered that I was in the hands of two of those robbers who live by plundering the grave, and selling the bodies of parents, and children, and friends. One of the men sung sketches and obscene songs, as the cart rattled over the pavement of the streets. When it halted, I was lifted out, and I soon perceived, by the closeness of the air, and the change of temperature, that I was carried into a room ; and being rudely stript of my shroud, was placed naked on a table. By the con versation of the two fellows with the servant who admit- ted them, I learnt that I was that nisrht to be dissected. COMBAT WITH A BULL. 331 My eyes were still shut — I saw nothing — but in a short hme I heard by the bustle in the room, that the students of anatomy were assembUng. Some of them came around the table, and examined me minutely. They were pleased to find that so good a subject had been procured. The demonstrator himself at last came in. Previous to beginning the dissection, he proposed to try on me some galvanic experiment, and an apparatus was arranged for that purpose. The first shock vibrated through ill my nerves — they rung and jangled hke the strings of a larp. The students expressed their admiration at the con- ulsive effect. The second shock threw my eyes open, md the first person I saw was the doctor who had attend- ;d me. But still I was as dead. I could, however, dis- cover among the students, the faces of many with whom I was familiar — and when my eyes were opened, I heard my name pronounced by several of the students, with an accent of awe and compassion, and a wish that it had been some other subject. When they had satisfied themselves with the galvanic phenomena, the demonstrator took the knife and pierced me on the bosom with the point. I felt a dreadful crack- ling, as it were, through my whole frame — a convulsive shuddering instantly followed, and a shriek of horror rose from all present. The ice of death was broken up — my trance ended. The utmost exertions were made to re- store me, and in the course of an hour I was in the full possession of all my faculties. COMBAT WITH A BULL. All was in readiness. Alonso cast a look on Hamet, in which there was something less severe than his usual expression : " Art thou prepared ?" said the king. " Aye, for life or death !" replied Hamet. " Then God be thy judge, young man," said Alonso, as he raised his arm and fi-ave the signal. The trumpet gave one clear and hollow blast. It curdled the blood : for it sounded like the knell )f death, to all but the obdurate. Ere the echo of the 332 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. surrounding mountains had finished repeating the awful clarion, the barriers were thrown open ; and, with one bound, the bull burst out. With nostrils smoking, as he uttered fearful bellowings, he stood gazing around, shook his sides, pawed the ground with his broad hoofs, but did not advance to the combat. He was black in color ; and, therefore, had he been named Nero. Whilst thus he stood, wild cries issued from the circus. They were strange and mingled ; some seemed uttered in joy, that the animal showed little symptoms of being willing for the attack. The more brutal Portuguese, however, those t^ie lovers of the game, who could forget even humanity in their sports, greeted the creature with yells, hoots, r'nd hissings ; since it was always deemed an infalhble m "\rk of cowardice in the bull, if he did not instantly attack his foe. Hamet was ready to receive him — his wood-knif'^ in his hand, his eye fixed on his enemy. His fine per-on drawn to its utmost height, every muscle in his slender limbs seemed to swell and to show its power, as he stood, "hke a grayhound on the slip," eager for the hardy "En- counter. The bull having been irritated by turning digs out upon him, (a usual practice whenever the ani^ial showed any delay in attack,) now sufficiently convin< ed all the spectators, that such delay was not from want of spirit. With an aspect full of savage fury, he lashed 'mss sides with his broad tail, bellowed, tore up the ground \v*h his hoofs and horns, and darted forward toward Hamet The youth, by leaping with an agility alone to be con^ pared to the nimble-footed chamois, as it springs from roc^ to rock, endeavored, but in vain, to avoid the continuer' pursuit of the bull — his eye ever watchful for the momen of attack. -No such moment ocurred ; and it seemed evi dent that his life would terminate with the time in whicF he should become spent and breathless, from the violent exertions he made to preserve it. Hassan saw this. He clasped his hands together in agony — he looked up to heaven — he uttered fearful cries, that mingled even with his prayers. " He will die I he will die !" exclaimed Hassan. " Oh for an angel's wing, to waft him hence in safety ! Mortal aid, is there none to save him. But see prophet of Mecca ! what a daring act ! He has seized COMBAT WITH A BULL. 335 the terrible animal by the horns ; he suffers himself to be dragged around the arena ! Now he hangs by one hand ; he stabs him in the throat ; the blood spouts like a fount of waters ; but the brute still lives. Look I Hamet falls from his hold — God save thee. He is up again ! he is on his feet ! Oh, Allah, how I thank thee ! He flies ; he flies ! — but look ! the brute is mad with fury, gored with wounds. See, how he tears up the sand. He follows — he follows : how will Hamet escape ? He has driven the youth close to the barrier ; there is no escape, no hope — he must fall !" " He falls not ! he falls not !" exclaimed Cassim. " Oh, noble Hamet !" At this instant, d, loud, continued, and deafening shout of applause, shook the arena ; for Hamet, bold, active, quick of eye, and vigor- ous of Hmb, with one bound, the very instant the bull was about to toss him on his horns, sprang upon his back, and leapt over him. He ran forward. Nero had already re- ceived more than one stab from the knife. None of them, however, reached any mortal part ; still he bled fast, and there was hope ; could Hamet but keep him at bay till the creature was somewhat spent by loss of blood, he might even yet despatch him. So great was the interest excited in the breasts of the spectators, that many called out to him, to make for the extremity of the arena, under the king's pavilion, as being furtherest removed from the enemy. The bull had, indeed, turned again to the pur- suit ; and that with so much fierceness, the last efforts of his rage, that the sight of it impressed horror. His blood streamed from his flanks ; he bounded, rather than ran forward, with dreadful bellowings. He shook his neck and sides, tossed the sand in his career, whilst volumes of smoke arose from his mouth and nostrils. Hamet, as a final effort, determined to spring upon him ; and, for that purpose, when within a few yards of the bull, turned to confront him. His foot slipped — he fell — and the knife dropped from his hand. All hope fled ; for at that instant he stood close to the barrier, which cut off all retreat, and the wild bull was making towards him, with head bent to gore him to death with his horns. A cry of horror arose from the arena. Hamet sprung up. There was no es- cape. Ines de Dastro set immediately above the spot 336 EXPLOIT;^ AND ADVENTURES. where the youthful Moor was in so much danger Quick in feeling and in thought, she tore from her shoulders the crimson mantle in which she was wrapt, and threw it into the arena, with so true a hand, that Hamet caught it — cast it over the bull's head as he prepared to gore him— anc. ere the beast could disentangle himself from the blind thus thrown over him, Hamet recovered his knife, that lay cose at his feet, and stuck it into the spine. His mighty enemy fell, a convulsed corpse. . THE YOUNG WARRIORS. For the substantial accuracy of the following story, 1 can truly vouch. One of the parties is intimately known to me. The tragic scene, while it affords a true develop- ment of the individual sufferings and horrors incident to war, especially to border wars, discloses traits of youthful courage and presence of mind, eminently worthy of public record. Towards the close of the late war with Great Britain, in 1812 or 1814, when the American arms had been so far victorious as to alarm and intimidate the Indians on these frontiers, they acceded to a proposition to meet American commissioners at Greenville, in Ohio, for the purpose of making a treaty of peace, and of cession and indemnities. The British authorities in Canada, learning the intelligence of this contemplated convention, became anxious to pre- vent as many of the tribes, disposed to attend it, as possi- ble, from doing so. For this purpose, they detached a force of Canadian savages, commanded by a French Ca- nadian officer, whose object was to intercept a tribe of American Indians, and overawe them from proceeding to Greenville. This scheme soon became known to the mili tary authorities of the United States on the frontier. They promptly adopted measures to counteract the projects of the enemy. They selected a lad, about sixteen years of age, the son of a respectable native of this county, who had enjoyed the confidence and good will of the Indians ail his life. The father having died, they transferred their , THE YOUNG WARRIORS. 337 affcAchment to the son. This boy, arming himself with a tomahawk, scalping knife, musket, and ammunition, en gaged as his companion a half-breed, the nephew of the Canadian commander of the hostile Indian force, some what older than himself, and proceeded from Detroit tc visit the friendly Indians, and to induce them, by his here ditary influence, to proceed on their mission to Greenville as well as to warn them against the meditated attempt of the enemy to intercept them. The two lads marched will celerity, amidst trying difficulties and dangers. The), passed a Pottawatomie village, with the aboriginal inhabi- tants of which the American lad was a great favorite These Pottawatomies were aware of the movements of the Canadian Indians, and after the two lads had left their vil- lage, in pursuit of the business on which they had been despatched, they became apprehensive that their youthful favorite and his companion might be captured and massa- cred by the hostile force ; they therefore sent a number of their warriors after them, for the purpose of affording them protection. Before these generous allies overlook them, the two boys had begun to cross a river in a canoe. On the opposite shore they descried a detachment of the savage enemy ; but it was too late ; they were ordered by the Canadian commander of the detachment, to come on shore, and surrender themselves. Feigning submission, our young heroes, as they approached the enemy, whose commander was advancing towards them alone, came to the determi- nation to sell their lives dearly, and not to be taken alive, if captured at all They formed the plan of walking up as near as possible, with safety, to the Canadian officer, and of shooting him down on the spot, each pledging himself to the other to fire simultaneously. As they came near to him, the half-breed discovered that the officer was his uncle. For a moment he fluttered ; but reinspired by the determined . spirit and energy of the American lad, he marched fearlessly up towards the commander. Within a few steps of him, he demanded an immediate surrender of themselves and their arms. They looked around them. They perceived that the hostile savage detachment were stationed on the brow of a hill, about fifty yards from them. They felt their perilous situation; but with un- 29 338 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. daunted firmness and desperate resolution, they \oId the Canadian officer not to come any nearer to them ; if he did, they would certainly kill him. At first he laughed at them. He could not suppose it possible, that two boys, neither of them eighteen years of age, would, in the face of a large detachment of savage enemies, burning with re- sentment, and flushed with hope, dare to execute their threat. Finding that they were in no wise intimidated by the dangers which on all sides surrounded them, the Cana- dian conimani^N yiLLAG BTONINGTON HEROISM. 377 1 shall not attempt to describe the agitation which this message occasioned. Its brevity, its awful import, the overwhelming force of the enemy, our defenceless condi- tion, and the short time allowed us to remove our " unof- fending" women and children, and to prepare for the con- flict, awoke sensations which can be more easily ccnceived , than expressed. The brief space allotted us, was diligently employed in taking out non-combatants to places of safety, and in collecting whatever ammunition could be found in the possession of individuals, whilst ten determined volun- teers took their stand at the breastwork, to observe the first movements of the enemy. All remained quiet until eight o'clock in the evening, when the Terror commenced the bombardment, by throwing a shell into the town, and continued with short intervals to fire bombs and carcasses through the night. Nothing was done, at that period, on our part, except once discharging an eighteen-pounder at the brig, which had suspended a lantern in her shrouds, but immediately hauled it down, from the apparent eflfect of the shot. As soon as the day broke on Wednesday, the enemy's barges appeared at a short distance from the east side of the point, and commenced firing their rockets at the buildings. Immediately a sufficient number of the volunteers dragged one of their guns across the point, attacked the barges from the open field, sunk one of them, compelled the rest to retire, and, in the midst of a raking fire from the brig, returned to the breastwork in safety. At sunrise, the brig of war commenced firing upon the town, approaching within grape-shot distance of the shore. At the same moment the Terror resumed the discharge of I'ockets, and throwing of shells and carcasses. Whilst the brave men at the guns were doing their duty, others, equally fearless, followed the rockets and carcasses to the buildings, and extinguished the fires they were kindling — a perilous service, which they continued to perform to the end of the conflict. The men at the breastwork had ammunition for one gun only, which they aimed with deadly effect, hulling the brig at every shot ; but their pow- der at length failing, they reluctantly retired for a short time, until the express which they had despatched to New London should return with a supply. 32* 378 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. This, to their great joy, arrived at eleven o'clock A. JM, when they instantly repaired to their post, nailed theit colors to the staif, opened their fire anew, and with such effect that the brig, in no great length of time, to avoid being sunk, cut her cable and retired, leaving her cable and anchor behind, which were afterwards secured, and are still preserved. During this exhibition of desperate valor, the men were driven to the expedient of making cartridges with clothing torn from their bodies, and weeds collected around the breastwork ; and when the match- rope failed, they fired the cannon with a small gun snap- ped over the vent. The number of men thus engaged, at no time exceeded twenty, all equal in command. The bombardment continued until Thursday, when a cessatior of hostilities took place, and a flag was sent from Com- modore Hardy, with a message, the purport of which was, to require us to send on board his ship, Mrs. Stewart, the British consul's wife, then in New London, and to give a pledge that we would not send torpedoes to annoy his ships. On our comphance with these terms, he engaged the bombardment should cease. With a spirit becoming the occasion, he was told in reply, that no compliance could be expected from us, and no favors were asked of him, beyond what the rules of honorable warfare required. The bomb ship then re-commenced her fire of shells and carcasses; and on Friday, after the Ramilies had fired two broadsides at the town, the squadron, about noon, retreated to the place from whence it came, with little cause of triumph, it is believed, at the result of the expedition. Should it be asked, how many lives were lost on our part, I must answer, with gratitude to God, not an indi- vidual was killed. One young man received a woimd ir the knee, and died six months afterwards.* This statement may appear incredible, when it is considered that dunng a part of the conflict, the men were wholly exposed to the enemy's fire — that their breastwork was merely a mound of earth — that the star-spangled banner, which hung low over their heads, was pierced with many balls, and the board fence and buildings in their rear were perforated m a manner so remarkable, as would seem to render it im- STONINGTON HEROISM. 379 ossible that any of them could have escaped uninjured, t will also be see'n that those who were engaged in watch- ing the houses, and guarding them against the effects of tlie rockets and shells, were exposed to dangers of no ordinary kind. Their unremitting efforts prevented a sin- gle mstance of conflagration, although many buildings were greatly injured by the balls and shells, and some were wholly destroyed. The bombardment, it is perceived, lasted from Tuesday gvening to Friday noon ; during which many incidents of an interesting nature occurred, which cannot now be de- tailed. One instance, however, of female fortitude and ^lial piety united, I feel it a duty to record. A few rods •n the rear of the breastwork stood a small house, in which -'esided an aged widow and her daughter. The mother jvas sick and could not be removed. Her daughter re- aiained alone with her through the night of Tuesday, and he battle of Wednesday, until the mother died. The laughter then went forth to announce the fact, and obtain 4ssistance to bury the dead. No female aid could be had ; all had fled. A few men assembled, but perceived they could do nothing with the body except to take it with the bed and covering and bury them together. Accordingly, they carried all to the nearest burying ground, where they found a hole made by the fall and explosion of a shell, in which the whole were interred, and where they have since remained. The composure, the passive courage as well as dutiful affection of the daughter, astonished all who saw Jier. Without calling for aid or uttering a complaint, she continued at the bed side of her dying mother, until her death, while cannon balls were often passing through the house, and even the room where she sat. Her name is Huldah Hall. She is still living, poor in worldly sub- stance but, " rich in faith," and I doubt not, an " heir of glory." The writer of the foregoing narrative has furnished no estimate of the enemy's loss, as he probably possessed no certain evidence of its amount. But if we may credit the account published at the time, it was far from proving a bloodless affair to the assailants. Expresses were also sent to convene the neighbonag S80 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. militia, who promptly assembled, were organized in the confines of the town, and stood ready to meet the enemy if a landing had been effected. THE IRISH MAGISTRATE. A FEW years before the battle of Knocktuadh, an extra- ordinary instance of civil justice occurred in this town which, in the eyes of its citizens, elevated their chief magis- trate to a rank with the inflexible Roman. James Lyncb Fitz-Stephen, an opulent merchant, was mayor of Galway in 1493. He had made several voyages to Spain, as a considerable intercourse was then kept up between that country and the western coast of Ireland. When return- ing from his last visit, he brought with him the son of a respectable merchant, named Gomez, whose hospitality he had largely experienced, and who was now received by his family with all that warmth of affection, which, from the earliest period, has characterised the natives of Ireland Young Gomez soon became the intimate associate of Wal ter Lynch, the only son of the mayor, a youth in Kis twen ty-first year, and who possessed qualities of mind and bodif which rendered him an object of general admiration ; hni to these was unhappily united a disposition to hbertinism, which was a source of the greatest affliction to his father. The worthy magistrate, however, was now led to entertain hopes of a favorable change in his son's character, as he was engaged in paying honorable addresses to a beautiful young lady, of good family and fortune. Preparatory to the nuptials, the mayor gave a splendid entertainment, at which young Lynch fancied his intended bride viewed hia Spanish friend with too much regard. The fire of jealousy was instantly lighted up in his distempered brain, and, at their next interview, he accused his beloved Agnes of un- faithfulness to him. Irritated at its injustice, the offended fair one disdained to deny the charge, and the lovers parted in anger. On the following night, while Walter Lynch slowly passed the residence of his Agnes, he observed young Go THE IRISH MAGISTRATE. 381 mez to leave the house, as he had been invited by her father, to spend that evening w^ith him. All his s>ispicions now received the most dreadful confirmation, and, in mad- dened fury, he rushed on his unsuspejcting friend, who, alarmed by a voice which the frantic rage of his pursuer prevented him from recognizing, fled towards a solitary quarter of the town near the shore. Lynch maintained the fell pursuit till his victim had nearly reached the water's edge, when he overtook him, darted a poniard into his heart, and plunged his body, bleeding, into the sea, which, during the night, threw it back again upon the shore, where it was found and recognised on the following morning. The wretched murderer, after contemplating for a mo- ment the deed of horror which he had perpetrated, sought to hide himself in the recesses of an adjoining wood, where he passed the night, a prey to all those conflicting feelings which the loss of that happiness he had so ardently expect ed, and a sense of guilt, of the deepest dye, could inflict. He at length found some degree of consolation, in the firm resolution of surrendering himself to the law, as the only means now left to him of expiating the dreadful crime which he had committed against society. With this deter- mination, he bent his steps towards the town, at the earliest dawn of the following morning ; but he had scarcely reached its precincts, when he met a crowd approaching, amongst whom, with shame and terror, he observed his father on horseback, attended by several officers of justice. At present, the venerable magistrate had no suspicion that his only son was the assassin of his friend and guest ; but when young Lynch proclaimed himself the murderer, a conflict of feehng seized the wretched father^ beyond the power of language to describe. To him, as chief magis- strate of the town, was entrusted the power of fife and death. For a moment, the strong affection of a parent pleaded in his breast, in behalf of his wretched son ; but this quickly gave place to a sense of duty in his magisterial capacity, as an impartial dispenser of the laws. The latter feeling at length predominated, and though he now per ijeived that the cup of earthly bliss was about to be for ever tiashed from his lips, he resolved to sacrifice all persona- 382 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. considerations, to his love of justice, and ordered the guard to secure their prisoner. The sad procession moved slowly towards the prison, amidst a concourse of spectators, some of whom expressed the strongest admiration of the upright conduct of the magistrate, while others were equally loud in their lamen- tations for the unhappy fate of a highly accomplished youth, who had long been a universal favorite. But the firmness of the mayor had to withstand a still greater shock, when the mother, sisters, and intended bride of the wretched Walter, beheld him who had been their hope and pride, approach, pale, bound, and surrounded with spears. Their frantic outcries affected every heart, except that of the inflexible magistrate, who had now resolved to sacrifice hfe, with all that makes life valuable, rather than swerve from the path of duty. In a few days the trial of Walter Lynch took place, and in a provincial town of Ireland, containing, at that period, not more than three thousand inhabitants, a father was be- held sitting in judgment, like another Brutus, on his only son ; and, like him too, condemning that son to die, as a sacrifice to public justice. Yet the trial of the firmness of the upright and inflexible magistrate did not end here. His was a virtue too refined for vulgar minds ; the popu- lace loudly demanded the prisoner's release, and were only prevented by the guard from demolishing the prison, and the mayor's house, which adjoined it ; and their fury was increased by hearing that the unhappy prisoner had now become anxious for life. To these ebullitions of popular rage, were added, the intercession of persons of the first rank and influence in Galway, and the entreaties of hi? dearest relatives and friends ; but while Lynch evinced alJ the feeling of a father and a man placed in his singularly distressing circumstances, he undauntedly declared that the law should take its course. On the night preceding the fatal day appointed for the execution of Walter Lynch, this extraordinary man en- tered ihe dungeon of his son, holding in his hand a lamp, and accompanied by a priest. He locked the gate after him, kept the keys fast in his hand, and then seated him- self in a recess of the wall. The wretched culprit drew THE IRISH MAGISTRATE. 383 near and, with a faltering tongue, asked if he had any thing to hope. The mayor answered, "No, my son — your life is forfeited to the laws, and at sunrise you mus* die ! I have prayed for your prosperity : but that is at ai end ; with this world you have done for ever ; were anj other but your wretched father judge, I might have drop- ped a tear over my child's misfortune, and solicited for his life, even though stained with murder ; but you must die • These are the last drops which shall quench the sparks of nature ; and, if you dare* hope, implore that heaven may not shut the gates of mercy on the destroyer of his fellow- creature. I am now come to join with this good man in petitioning God to give you suph composure, as will enable you to meet your punishment with becoming resignation." After this affecting address, he called on the clergyman to offer up their united prayers for God's forgiveness to his unhappy son, and that he might be fully fortified to meet the approaching catastrophe. In the ensuing supplications at a throne of mercy, the youthful culprit joined with fer- vor, and spoke of life and its concerns no more. Day had scarcely broken, when the signal of prepara- tion was heard among the guards without. The father rose, and assisted the executioner to remove the fetters which bound his unfortunate son. Then, unlocking the door, he placed him between the priest and himself, lean- ing upon an arm of each. In this manner they ascended a flight of steps, lined with soldiers, and were passing on to gain the street, when a new trial assailed the magistrate, for which he appears not to have been unprepared. His wretched wife, whose name was Blake, failmg in her per sonal exertions to save the life of her son, had gone in dis- traction to the heads of her own family, and prevailed on them, for the honor of their house, to rescue him from ignominy. They flew to arms, and a prodigious concourse soon assembled to support them, whose outcries of mercy for the culprit, must have shaken any nerves less firm than those of the mayor of Ga'way. He exhorted them to yield submission to the I&t their country ; but, finding all his efforts fruitless, to accomplish the ends of justice, at the accustomed place, and by the usual hands, he, by a des- perate victory over pair-^tal feeling, resolved himself to 384 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. perform the sacrifice, which he had avowed to pay on its altar. Still retaining a hold of his unfortunate son, he mounted with him by a winding stair within the building, that led to an arched window overlooking the street, which he saw filled by the populace. Here he secured the end of the rope, which had been previously fixed round the neck of his son, to an iron staple, which projected from the wall, and, after taking from him a last embrace, he launched him into eternity. The intrepid magistrate expected instant death from the fury of the populace ; but the people seemed so much overawed or confounded, by the magnanimous act, that they retired slowly and peaceably to their several dwell- ings. Th^ innocent cause of this sad tragedy, is said to have died soon after of grief; and the unhappy father of Walter Lynch, to have secluded himself, during the re- mainder of his life, from all society, except that of his mourning family. His house still exists in Lombard street, Galway, which is yet known by the name of " Dead Man's Lane," and under the front window, are to be seen a skull and cross bones, executed in black marble. AN ADVENTURE. A YOUNG man residing near Bangor, in Maine, was returning lately from a visit to his lady love ; his path lay through wooaland, from which, except a few straggling pines, the trees had been cut down, and were lying on the ground. He skipped over the logs and stumps, with light foot and Hghter heart. His fair mistress had received him kindly. Suddenly, on leaping over a fallen tree, he found himself within a few feet of a ravenous be.ar. He sprang to the nearest pine, and climbed up, the bear clambering after him. Making good use of his feet, he dashed his antagonist to the grcmd. The bear returned, and was again repulsed, carrying with him one of our hero's boots. Bruin ascended a third thne, and with more caution. The young man, hoping to escape, ascended the tree about fifty feet, and as the bear approached him, attempted to THE LIO . 387 shake him off; but in vam, as his foot was held by the paws of the infuriated animal, who had lost his hold of the tree, and hung suspended by the poor lover's leg. The young man's strength becoming exhausted, he let go his nold on the tree, and down they went with a tremendous concussion, to the ground. Our hero struck on the bear and rebounded eight or ten feet distant. Scarcely know- ing whether he was dead or alive, he raised himself on his arm, and discovered Bruin gazing wildly at him, and evi- dently dumfounded by such lofty tumbling. The affrighted pair sat eyeing each other for some time, when tlie bear, who was the more severely bruised of the ivfo, showing no signs of fight, the young man rose and fled, leaving his hat and boot behind him, his friend of the shaggy coat casting at him an expressive look, accompa- nied by a growl and a shake of the l:;:ad, which convinced our hero, that had it been possible, it would have been a shake of the paw. The young lover soon recovered from his bruises, and the fair damsel, who had been the indirect cause of the adventure, which had placed his life in such immediate peril, poured balsam on his wounds, and made Ms heart whole, by naming " an early day." THE LION. It is said, that when the lion has once tasted human flesh, he henceforth entirely loses his natural awe of hu- man superiority ; and it is asserted, that when he has once succeeded in snatching some unhappy wretch from a Bush- man kraal he never fails to return regularly every night, in search of another meal ; and often harasses them so dread- fully, as to foree the horde to desert their station. From apprehensions of such nocturnal attacks, some of these wretched hordes are said to be in the habit of placing their aged and infirm nearest the entrance of the cave or covert where they usually sleep, in order that the least valuable may first fall a prey, and serve as a ransom for the rest. The prodigious strength of this animal does not appear to have been overrated. It is certain that he can drag the 388 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. heaviest ox with ease, a considerable way ; and a horse, neifer, harte beast, or lesser prey, he finds no difficulty in throwing upon his shoulder, and carrying off to any dis tance he may find convenient. I have myself witnessed an instance of a very young lion conveying a horse about a mile from the spot where he had Rilled it ; and a more extraordinary case, which occurred in the Sneeuwberg, has been mentioned to me on good authority, where a lion, having carried off a heifer of two years old, was followed on the spoor, or track, for full five hours, by a party on horseback, and throughout the whole distance, the carcass of the heifer was only once or twice discovered to have touched the ground. Poor Gert Schepers, a vee-boor of the Cradock district was out hunting in company with a neighbor, — whoso name, as he is yet alive, and has been sufficiently punished, I shall not make more notorious. Coming to a fountain, surrounded, as is common, with tall reeds and rushes, Gert handed his gun to his comrade, and alighted to search for water • but he no sooner approached the fountain, than an «nof '-"ous lion started up close at his side, and seized him .J aie left arm. The man, though taken by surprise, stood g'.ock still, without struggling, aware that the least attempt to escape, would insure his instant destruction. The ani- mal also remained motionless, holding fast the boor's arm in his fangs, but without biting it severely, — and shutting his eyes at the same tmie, as if he could not withstand the countenance of his victim. As they stood in this position, Gert, collecting his presence of mind, began to beckon to his comrade to advance and shoot the lion in the forehead. This might have been effected, as the animal not only con- tinued still with closed eyes, but Gert's body concealed from his notice any object advancing in front of him. But the fellow was a vile poltroon ; and in place of complying with his friend's directions, or making any other effort to save him, he began cautiously to retreat to the top of a neighboring rock. Gert continued earnestly to beckon for assistance for a long time, the lion continuing perfectly quiet ; and the Hon hunters affirm, that if he had perse- vered a little longer, the animal would have relaxed Piis Id, anl left him uninjured. Such eases, at least, they 33 THE LION. 391 maintain, have occasionally occurred. But Gerl, indigo nant at the pusillanimity of his comrade, and losing pa- tience with the lion, at last drew his knife, (a weapon which every back country colonist wears sheathed at his side,) and with the utmost force of his right arm, plunged it into the animal's breast. The thrust was a deadly one, for Gert was a bold and powerful man ; but it did not prove effectual in time to save his own life, for the enraged sav- age, striving to grapple him, and held at arm's length b; the utmost efforts of Gert's strength and desperation, so dreadfully lacerated the breast and arms of the unfortu- nate man with his talons, that his bare bones were laid open. The lion fell at last, from loss of blood, and Gert fell along with him. The cowardly companion, who had witnessed this fearful struggle from the rock, now, however, took courage to advance, and succeeded in car- rying his mangled friend to the nearest hoUse, where such surgical aid as the neighbors could give, was immediately, but vainly applied. Poor Gert expired on the third day after, of a lock-jaw. The hero of the following story is a Hottentot of the Agter Sneeuwberg. I have forgotten his name, but he was alive two years ago, when the story was related to me at Cradock, m that neighborhood. This man was out hunting, and perceiving an antelope feeding among some bushes, he approached, in a creeping posture, and had rested his gun over an ant-hill, to take a steady aim, when, observing that the creature's attention was suddenly and peculiarly excited by some object near him, he looked up and perceived with horror, that an enormous lion was, at that instant, creeping forward, and ready to spring upon him. Before he could change his posture, and direct his aim upon his antagonist, the savage beast bounded for- ward, seized him with his talons, and crushed his left hand, as he endeavored to guard him off with it, between his monstrous jaws. In this extremity, the Hottentot had the piesence of mind to turn the muzzle of the gun, which he still held in his right hand, into the lion's mouth, and then drawing the trigger, shot him dead through the Drain. He ost his hand, but happily escaped without further injury 392 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. A PERILOUS SITUATION. Those of my readers who have walked on the banks of the Adige, below Rovigo, (in Italy,) will know, that about a league and a half from that town, there are one or two islands in the midst of the channel, between which and the shoz'e, the water is not more than a foot deep ; and those who have never stirred from home, have proba- bly heard that the Adige is extremely subject to violent inundations, equally remarkable for the suddenness of their rise and fall, owing to its mountainous origin and short course. On the evening of one of the last days in May, I arrived opposite to one of these islands. The water was as pure as crystal, gently flowing over a fine pebbly channel ; the island, which might be about forty yards from the shore upon which I stood, though more than double that distance on the other side, was inviting, from its extreme greenness, and from a profusion of hyacinths upon one side — a flow- er to which I am extremely partial. Three or four trees also grew upon its edge, the trunks inclining over the wa- ter, and with but few branches. After a day's walk^ nothing is more agreeable than wading in a stream ; and as 1 had sufficient time to spare, I resolved upon reaching the island. This was soon accomplished ; I found the depth nowhere to exceed two feet, and the island, when I reached it, as agreeable as I fancied it to be ; and having culled a large boquet, I lay down upon the hyacinth bank, find gave myself up to those pleasant recollections of home and past scenes, which the fragance of this flower brought along with it. I had lain, I think, about a quarter of an hour, entirely forgetful of time and place — a busy actor in scenes far removed by both — when my attention was slightly roused by a distant sound, which I supposed at first to be thunder, a good deal having been heard to the northward in the course of the day ; and when it continued, and grew louder, I still supposed it was one of those pro- longed peals which ai^e so frequent to the south of the Alps. Soon, however, the sound changed, and seemed like the sea ; and, as it became still louder, I started up in some 33* A PERILOUS SITUATION. 393 K3irm, and what a sight met my eye ! At the distance of I few hundred yards, I saw a mountain of dark waters fjshing towards me with inconceivable velocity, like a perpendicular wall, and now roaring louder than the loud- est thunder. Not a moment was to be lost ; the level of the island would be instantly covered, and to gain the fihore was impossible, for we cannot run through water with the swiftness with which we pass over dry ground. ( instantly made for the largest of the trees, and had gain- ed an elevation of about ten feet above the island, when the flood reached it. As it came nearer, its power ap- peared resistless ; it seemed as if it would sweep the island from its foundation ; and I entertained not a ray of hope that the trunk upon which I was seated, would escape the force of the torrent. It came, and the tree remained firm ; — it covered the island and all its vegetation in an instant ; and I saw it rush beneath me, bearing along with it the insignia of its power and fury — huge branches and roots, fragments of bridges, implements of household use, and dead animals. As regarded myself, the first and immediate danger of destruction was over; but a moment's reflection, one glance around me, showed that I had but little cause for congratulation. Betwixt the island and the shore, a torrent that no human strength could withstand, rolled impetuously on ; and although not fifty yards over, it would have been as impracticable an attempt to pass it, as if its breadth had been so many leagues. The first rush had left the tree unloosened, yet a second might carry it away; and the flood was still rising ; almost every minute I could perceive the distance betwixt me and the water diminish, and, indeed, I was not more than four feet above its sur- face. I had only two grounds of hope — the most languid, however, that ever was called by the name — it was pos- sible that some person might see my situation from the shore, before nightfall, and bring others to my assistance ; and it was possible, also, that the river might rise no higher, and speedily subside. The first of these chances was one of very improbaole occurrence, for this part of the country is but thinly inha- bited — the high road did not lie along the river side, and 394 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. the shore, for three or four hundred yards from the cnaii nei of the river, was overflowed to the depth of proba- bly three or four feet; and if a rope or a cord could be thiown so far, it was extremely improbable that I should catch it, as it was impossible for me to stir from the tree upon which I was seated, and as to any likelihood of the water subsiding, there was no appearance of it; it was, at all events, impossible that this could happen before nightfall. In this dreadful and perilous situation, evening passed away. No one appeared, and the river still contin- ued to rise. The sky lowered and looked threatening ; the torrent rushed by, darker and more impetuous every few moments, reminding me, by the wrecks which it bore along with it, of the frailty of the tenure by which I held my existence. The shores, on both sides, were changed into wide lakes ; and the red sun went angrily down, over a waste of red waters. Night at length closed in, and a dreadful night it was. Sometimes I fancied the tree w^as loosening from its root, and sloped more over the water • sometimes 1 imagined the whole island was swept away, and that I was sailing down- the torrent. I found that my mind occasionally wandered, and I had the precaution to take out of my pocket a silk handkerchief, which I tore in several strips, and tying them together, bound myself round the middle, to a pretty thick branch which supported my back ; this, I thought, might prevent me falling, if gid- diness seized me, or momentary sleep should overtake me. During the night, many strange fancies came over me, be sides that very frequent one of supposing the island sailing down the torrent. Someiimes i fancied I was whirlini* round and round ; at other times I thought the torrent wis flowing backw^ard ; now and then I fancied I saw huge black bodies carried towards me upon the surface, and I shrunk back to avoid contact with them ; at other times I imagined something rose out of the water beneath, and at- tempted to drag me down ; often I felt convinced I heard screams mingle with the rushing torrent, and once, all sound seemed entirely to cease, and I could have almost ventured to descend, so certain I felt that the channel was dry : once or twice I dropped asleep for a moment, but ahiTOst instantly awoke, with so violent a start, A PERILOUS SITUATION. 39 that if I had not been fastened I must have fallen fron my seat. The night gradually wore away — it was warm and dry so that I suffered no inconvenience from cold. I became nearly satisfied of the stabihty of the trunk- which was my only refuge ; and, although deliverance wai uncertain, at all events distant, 1 made up my mind to en- dure as long as I could ; and thus I passed the night, undei a starless sky, and the dark flood roaring beneath me Before morning broke I felt assured that the waters had began to subside ; the noise, I thought, was less; I fancied I saw shrubs appear above water on the island, and the trees upon shore assumed their usual appearance ; and with the first dawn of day, I joyfully perceived that I had not been mistaken : the waters had fallen at least three feet , and before sunrise the greater part of the island was left dry. Never did a criminal, reprieved upon the scaffold, shake off" his bonds with more joy than 1 did mine, that bound me to the tree. I crept down the trunk, which still hung over the torrent, and stepped about knee-deep in the waler ; 1 then waded to the part which was dry, and lay down exhausted with the night's watching, and aching with the position in which I had been obliged to remain. The water now continued to fall perceptibly every mo- ment — soon the island was entirely dry, and the inunda- tion on shore had subsided into the natural channel, but still the torrent was too strong and deep to attem.pt a passage, especially weakened as I was by the occurrence of the last twelve hours, and by the want of food. About ihree in the afternoon I accordingly entered the stream j I found it then nowhere deeper than four feet, and, with a little struggling and buffeting, succeeded in gaining the bank, which I once thought I should never have trodden more. The bunch of hyacinths, which I had not forgotten to bring from the island, 1 still held in my hand. I have dried a few of them, and kept them ever since. Never do I smell this flower, as I walk through ihe woods or the fields, that I do not experience in part the sensations 1 felt when I lifted up my head and saw the impetuous flooa rushing towards me ; and, however drea'Jful reality mav be, the recollection of it is not unmixed with pleasure. 396 EXPLOITa AND ADVENTURES. I often open the leaves where lie these withered hyacinths and i cannot say, that, when I look upon them, I evci diink they have been dearly purchased. AN ADVENTURE WITH A COBRA DE CAPELLA. From a letter dated Kirkee, near Poonah, July 5th, 1836. " I HAD escaped for a day from the incessant routine df military duties, for which the Potsdam of India is so justly celebrated. It was about the conclusion of the monsoon of 1835 ; the quail were abundant, and after some hours hard fagging, through dark and heavy grass, I felt inclined to rest ; an adjacent tamarind tree, of noble growth, yielded an inviting shelter from a sun, that, for the season of the year, was oppressively hot. The few beaters who had accompanied me, had set off to a neighboring |i(aum, to obtain some refreshments. Left to myself, I was himployed much to my satisfaction in counting over the oontents of a well-filled game bag, and mentally portion- ing off lots to my different friends. From this state of pleasing indolence, which a sliooter is apt to indulge in, after severe fatigue, I was aroused by the furious barking of my dogs ; on turning round I beheld a snake, of the cobra de capella species, directing its course to a point that would approximate very close upon my position ; in an instant I was upon my feet. The moment the reptile became aware of my presence, in nautical phraseology, it boldly brought to, with expanded hood, eyes sparkling, and neck beautifully arched ; the head raised nearly two feet from the ground, and oscillating from side to side in a manner plainly indicative of a resentful foe. I seized the " nearest weapon of my wrath," a short bamboo, left by one of the beaters, and hurled it at my opponent's head ; 1 was fortunate enough to hit it beneath the eye. The reptile immediately fell from its imposing attitude, and lay apparentlv lifeless. Without a moment's reflection, I seized it a little below the head, hauled it beneath the shelter of the tree, and very coolly sat down to examine the mouth for the poisonous fangs, of which naturalists AN ADVENTURE WITH A COBRA BE CAPELLA. 397 speak so much. While in the act of forcing the mouth open with a stalk, I felt the head sliding through my hand, and, to my utter astonishment, became aware that I now had to contend against the most deadly of reptiles, m its full strength and vigor. Indeed, I was in a moment con- vinced of it, for as I tightened my hold of the throat, its body became wreathed round my neck and arm. I hao raised myself from a sitting posture to one knee ; my righl arm (to enable me to exert my strength) was extended. I must, in such an attitude, have appeared horrified enougl to represent a deity in the Hindoo mythology, such as wt often see rudely emblazoned on the portals of their native temples. It now became a matter of self defense: to re- tain my hold it required my utmost strength to prevent the head from escaping, as my neck became a purchase for the animal to pull upon. If the reader is aware of the universal dread in which the cobra de capella is held throughout India, and the almost instant death which in- variably follows its bite, he will in some degree be able to imagine what my feelings were at the moment ; a shudder, a kind of faint disgusting sickness, pervaded my whole frame, as I felt the cold, clammy fold of the reptile's body tightening around my neck. " To attempt any delineation of my sensations, would be absurd and futile : let it suffice, they were most hor- rible — I had almost resolved to resign my hold. Had I done so, this tale never would have been written ; as no doubt the head would have been brought to the extreme circumvolution to inflict the deadly wound. Even in the agony of such a moment, I could picture to myself the fierce glowing of the eyes, and the intimidating expansion of the hood, ere it fastened its venomous and fatal hold upon my neck and face. To hold it much longer would be impossible. Immediately beneath my grasp there was an inward working and creeping of the skin, which seemed to be assisted by the very firmness with which I held it ; my hand was gloved. Finding, in defiance of all my efforts, that my hand was each instant forced closer to my face, I w^as anxiously considering how to act in this horrid dilemma, when an idea struck me that, were it in my power to transfix the mouth with some sharp instrument, 34 398 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. it would prevent the reptile from using its fangs, should it escape my hold of it. My gun lay at my feet ; the ram- rod appeared the very thing required, which, with some difficulty, I succeeded in drawing out, having only one hand disengaged. "My right arm was now trembhng from over exer- tion, and my hold becoming less firm, when I happily succeeded in passing the rod through the lower jaw, up to its centre. It was not without considerable hesitation that I let go my hold of the throat, and suddenly seized the rod in both hands : at the same time bringing them over my head with a sudden jerk, I disengaged the fold from my neck, which had latterly become almost tight eiiough to produce strangulation. There was then little difficulty in freeing my right arm, and ultimately to throw the reptile from me to the earth, where it continued to twist and writhe itself into a thousand contortions of rage and agony. To run to a neighboring stream, to lave my neck, hands, and face, in its cooling waters, was my first act, after despatching my formidable enemy." Thus concludes a true, though plainly told tale. As a moral, it may prove, that when a man is possessed of de termination, coolness, and energy, combined with reason, he will generally come off triumphant, though he may have to circumvent the subtlety of the snake, or combat the ferocity of the tiger. ELEPHANT HUNTING. All the party went into the bush, the Hoiteniots first, Aith their large guns, then their wives, and the gentlemen 'ollowing. The first Hottentot frequently spoke to his companion, in a low voice, and was heard to say, " look, look :" on mquiring the cause, he pointed out to them the fresh track of an elephant. The bush became thicker, and the sun had no power to shine through the thick fohage ; they passed the spot which the Hottentot marked out as the place where he had wounded the first elephant, and soon afterwards they saw the dead buffalo. The party ADVENTURE WITH A COBRA DE CAPELLA. ELEPHANT HUNTING. 401 Went on, resolving to see the dead elephant ; and, winding along through the bush, till they came to a sand hill, the Hottentots pointed out one of the carcasses at some dis- tance, lying on another sand hill ; but, on looking at it for a second, it appeared to move, and the Hottentot discov- ered that it was a young calf by the side of the cow. The whole party immediately went on, and, when within mus- ket shot, they found that there were two calves, lying by their dead mother ; a piteous and interesting sight. The young ones rose, and some dogs that the Hindoos had in- cautiously taken into the bush, barked violently. At thi» moment the bushes moved, and the stupendous father stalk ed in : he looked around him quietly, and even sorrow- fully ; and, after viewing the party for a second, he walked on, and was soon hid behind some trees. The situation they had placed themselves in had now become extremely critical ; the bush was continuous for miles in extent, and where to fly, in case of an attack, was very difficult to de- termine. They were all warned not to run against the wind ; and the direction of the house was pointed out, a? v.'^ell as circumstances would allow ; but while they were debating the matter, the dogs ran in among the young ele- phants ; they set up a deafening yell, and made directly towards the party, some of whom lay down by the path, with the hope of seizing the smallest calf; but they were very glad to make their escape, as they discovered it to be larger than they expected. The bull elephant, called back by the cry of his young, again appeared, but totally differ- ent in aspect, and even in form. His walk was quicker his eye fierce, his trunk elevated, and his head appeared three times the size. My friend called to the Hottentot to look, and he immediately replied, in broken English, " Yes, mynheer, dat is de elephant will make mens dead." The alarm was extreme ; but while the animal stood hesi- tating, the cry of the young sounded from a distant quar- ter, and the enraged father took the shortest cut towards them, crushing the branches as he stalked along ; and the party thus most providentially escaped. It was ascer ♦ained that the elephant had made off towards the sea. They went up to the dead elephant, merely to exaraint it ; for the Hottentots leave the tusks till the flesh become 34* 402 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. softened, as it would take up too much time to separalt- them. One of these men took out his knife, and cu( a cir- cular piece off the head, about an incli deep ; he then pointed out a dark spot, similar to what is calted the ker nel in beef; this he probed with his knife, and biought (lut a small twig ; but it was broken. He distributed a little piece, as a great favor, then carefully wrapt the remainder up, as they have an idea that whoever wears it, can ne^ er be killed by an elephant: and this valuable charm was transferred by my friend to me. It is remarkable that ud naturalist has ever noticed this circumstance. There is no outward appearance, and it is impossible to imagine how It becomes enclosed, or of what use it is to the animal. They set off, a party of fourteen in number, and found upwards of three score elephants encamped on the banks of the Kounap river. It was late when the party arrived, therefore an attempt would have been useless and dan- gerous. Large fires were lighted, to keep off lions as well as elephants, and the party being much fatigued, they lay down and slept. The elephants awoke them early, with breaking and pulling up trees by the roots, and rolling themselves in the water, &:c. The party immediately pressed for the attack, and now commenced the sport. The elephants, upon re- ceiving the first shot, as if by mutual consent, gave chase, though not for above six or seven hundred yards. This answered the desired effect. One of the party aalloped oetween the elephants and the bush, which they had just left, commencing at the same time a very heavy fire, which harassed them to such a degree that they fied to the plains, leaving behind them a thick cover, in which they might have been perfectly secure from the shots. On these plains great numbers of small bushes are found, id no great distance from each other, so that if one party con- sents to drive the elephant out of one bush, the other will conceal themselves and by this mean^ may get some good shots. One large bull elephant stationed himself in the middle of one of these small bushes; and at leaU two lunn-'red rounds were fired without being able to bring aim down or make him move from the place in which he liaJ sta- PUTNAM OUTDONE. 403 110 ned hin.self. At every shot he received, he was ob- served to blow a quantity of water into the wound, and vlien tear up a large lump of earth to endeavor to stop the blood. The Catfers do the same thing when they have been shot — that is, tear up a handful of grass, and thrust it into the wounded place ; and it is thought they have learnt this from seeing the elephants do it. At length the great bull dropped. The party then entered the bush, and, to their great surprise, found that the reason he would not leave this spot was, that he had there found a pool of water, with which he had been washing his wounds ; his height measui'ed seventeen feet and three quarters, and his teeth weighed one hundred and ninety pounds. Be fore the day's sport was over, they had killed thirteen. PUTNAM OUTDONE. An exploit performed lately in a rencontre with a wolt, )y the son of Benjamin Fowie, Esq. of Caledonia, a lad of Meen years of age, is unparalleled either in the story of Putnam, or in that of the no less celebrated bear hunt of jNi'Doiiaid, in Scotland. For some time previous, many of the farms of Caledonia, and of the neighboring towns, complained loudly of the ravages committed in their sheep- folds, by some voracious animal, infesting the forests and swamps of the vicinity, supposed to be a wolf A large number of sportsmen having been rallied, and appearing in the costume of hunters, with rifles, bugle horns, &c. went in quest of the lawless depredator. After an unsuc cessful chase for several days, the wolf cunningly eluding iheir pursuit, and, mean time, extending his mischief, they started, on the morning of the 7th inst., with a view of acting more systematically in concert. Mounted on horse- back, young FowIe had distanced his companions nearly a mile, when he discovered the wolf making his way ahead, over a piece of rising ground, with his utmost speed. Ap- plying his whip to his horse, he soon overtook and passed him, as he was on the eve of entering an almost impene- trable swamp. 404 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. Having diverted the wolf from his course, and being without firearms, he tried, at first, to run his horse on him, in order to disable and impede him, until he could be de- spatched, but the horse, of less courage than the rider, shrinking from the contest with so ferocious an enemy, the boy dismounted, took ofl" a rope halter, thrust it into his bosom, and followed '>n foot. Again overtaking the wolf, who was plenteously gorged with the flesh of the animals which he had devoured^ and nearly exhausted, he seized him by the tail with both hands, and, with his feel well braced, held him fast. He continued thus for some minutes, waiting for hk companions, when the wolf, having recovered in some measure from his excessive fatigue, turned round to attack him ; the boy, with an intrepidity rivaled only in the battle of Decatur, with a barbarous foe of another kind, seized his antagonist by the nppe of the neck, with his right hand, having still hold of his tail with his left, and a struggle took place between them, the one whirling round the other four or five minutes, till the boy fell uppermost. The wolf being nearly covered in the deep snow, the boy bore down upon his neck with his right foot, to prevent his biting, and succeeded in tying one of his hind legs, with a halter, to a small tree. He then with a leap, placed himself out of his reach. Breaking off a large sapling, which was the best weapon he could procure, he beat him on the head till th^ blood gushed from his nostrils. The wolf, after several unavailing attempts to extricate himself, was maddened to desperation, exhibiting so frightful an appeirance. as, for a moment, to damp the courage of the boy, and make hin? shudder at the idea of the danger he had encountered The boy continued to watch him for nearly half an hour in the mean time halloing, with all his might for the rest of the company to come up. At length, growing impa- tient, and thinking that perhaps they had missed his track, he remounted his horse, and rode after them. When he returned, the wolf had gnawed off the rope, and made his escape ; but every appearance confirmed the story of the boy. Several of the party, however, thought it incredible, and were not satisfied until the next day, when the wolf was shot, and lo I a piece of the identical rope haltei wa>. THE GENEROUS CAVALIER. 407 fu'iuid ii})on him, wound twice round his leg, and fastened in a gordian knot. The wo!f measured three fet^t in height^ and SIX in length, from the nose to the end of the tail. THE GENEROUS CAVALIER. Two knights of Portugal, both of whom are probably still in existence, entertaining a mortal enmity towards each other, were incessantly occupied in studying the surest means of taking revenge. The one, however, who first conceived himself injured, surpassed his adversary in me vigilance with which he watched every occasion of carrying his designs into execution. This ferocious dispo- sition was further nurtured by the circumstance of his inability, either in force or courage, successfully to contend widi his enemy, which, while it compelled him to stifle the expression of his hatred, led him to reflect upon every secret method of annoying him, in his power. Though formerly of a noble and virtuous disposition, this unhappy feud had so far disordered his better feelings and his judg ment, as to induce him to commit one of the most atro- cious actions recorded in history. He watched his oppor- tunity of surprising and assassinating both the father and brother of his noble foe ; intelligence of which fact having reached the court, a proclamation was forthwith issued by the king, forbidding his subjects, under the severest penal' ties, to harbor the author of so foul a crime ; while officers were despatched on all sides in pursuit of him. After perpetrating the deed, the assassin, hearing tha proclamation every where bruited in his ears, and believ ing it impossible long to elude the vigilance of his pur- suers, torn at the same time by the agonies of remorse and guilt, came to a resolution, rather of dying by the hand of him whom he had so deeply injured, than await ing the more tardy and ignominious course of justice. For, having satiaied his revenge, the idea of what he had once jeen, and of his lost fame and honor, rushed with an over- whelming sense of despair across his mind ; and he felt a dark and fearful satisfaction in yielding himself up to tho 408 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. sword of his deeply injured adversary. With this view, ne secretly issued from his retreat, under cover of the night, and having before daybreak reached the residence of him whom he deemed his executioner, he presented him- self in his astonished presence, with the fatal poniard in his hand, kneeling and baring his bosom, as he offered it to the grasp of his foe. Impelled by a sudden feehng of revenge, and viewing the assassin in his power, the cavalier was in the act of plunging the steel into his breast ; but, restraining his pas- sion, and conceiving it dishonorable to take so inglorious an advantage, he flung it from him, and turned his face away. . At length, commanding his emotion, he declared that he would never stain his hands with the blood of a defenseless man, much less of an unarmed knight, be his offences what they would ; and with singular greatness and generosity of soul, proceeded to assure the assassin of his safety, df> long as he remained with him. Witnessing the terrors of remorse and guilt which seemed lo sting him to the quick, and leaving his further punishment to heaven, bis generous foe attended him the ensuing night, on horseback, beyond the confines of his kingdom. Yet, on his return, unable to forget the sad source of his resent- ment, he hastened to the court of Portugal ; and, on obtaming an audience of his majesty, said that he had heard of his enemy's escape from the country, and he was now probably beyond the reach of justice, glorying in his miquity. It was therefore incumbent upon him to adopt some other means of redressing the wrongs he had suffer- ed, and his majesty would oblige him by granting a safe conduct to his foe, to re-enter the kingdom, so that he might meet him in single battle. " There is only one con- dition," conlinued the knight ; " I would beseech your ma- jesty to grant, that, if I should be so unfortunate as to fall beneath his arm, your majesty will please to absolve him from all his offences, and permit him to go free ; and if, as I firmly trust, I should come off victorious, that his fate shall rest in my hands." The king, with some difficulty, being prevailed upon to grant these terms, the noble cava- lier immediately despatched messengers, bearing at once a safe conduct, and a public defiance to his enemy to meet 35 FIGHT BETWEEN A TIGER AND AN ELEPHANT. 411 lura in the field, and jield him satisfar.tion in single combat, according to the laws of honor, before the knight and court. Willing to afford his enemy the revenge he sought, the assassin, to the astonishment of the people, made his appearance on the appointed day, in the lists, clothed in complete armor, and accepted the challenge proposed. On the heralds sounding a charge, they both engaged with apparently equal fury ; but the injured knight shortly wounded his antagonist severely in several places, and stretched him on the field, weltering in his blood. Instead, however, of despatching him, as every one expected on the spot, he raised him up, and, calling for surgical assistance, had him conveyed to a place of safety. His wounds prov- ing not to be mortal, the noble cavalier, on his recovery accompanied him into the presence of the king, and de clared publicly before the whole court, that he granted him his liberty and his life, entreating, at the same time, the royal pardon for him, and permission to reside in any part of his majesty's dominions. In admiration of his unequalled magnanimity, the king readily conceded what he wished ; while the unhappy ob ject of their favor, overwhelmed with feelings of remorse and shame, humbled himself before his generous conqueror, and ever afterwards evinced sentimentsof the utmost grati- tude and respect to the noble cavalier, being at once the most faithful friend and follower he ever had. FIGHT BETWEEN A TIGER AND AN ELEPHANT. In the midst of a grassy plain, about half a mile long, and nearly as much in breadth, about sixty or seventy fine elephants were drawn up in several ranks, each animal being provided with a mahawat, who guided his move- ments. On one side were placed convenient seats ; the governor, mandarins, and a numerous train of soldiers, be- ing also present at the spectacle. A crowd of spectators occupied the side opposite. The tiger was bound to a stake, placed in the centre of the plain, by means of a rope fastened round his loins. We soon perceived how une- 412 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES qual was the combat. The claws of the poor animal had been cut, and a strong stitch bound his lips, and kept him from opening his mouth. On being turned loose, he at tempted to bound over the plain, but finding all attempts to extricate himself useless, he threw himself at length upon the grass, till seeing a large elephant with long tusks approach, he got up and faced the coming danger. The elephant was, by this attitude, and the terrible growl of the tiger, too much intimidated, and turned aside, while the tiger pursued him heavily, and struck him with his fore paw upon the hind quarter quickening his pace not a little The mahawat succeeded in bringing the elephant to the charge again, before he had gone far; and this time he rushed on furiously, driving his tusks into the earth under the tiger, and lifting him up fairly, giving him a clear cast to the distance of about thirty feet. This was an interest- ing point in the combat. The tiger lay along the ground as if he were dead, yet it appeared that he had sustained no material injury, for on the next attack, he threw him- self into an attitude of defense ; and as the elephant was again about to take him up, he sprang upon his forehead, fixing his hind feet upon the trunk of the former. The elephant was wounded in this attack, and so much fright- ened, that nothing could prevent him from breaking through every obstacle, and fairly running oflf. The ma- hawat was considered as having failed in his duty, and, soon after, was brought up to the governor, with his hands tied behind his back, and on the spot received one hun- dred lashes of the rattan. Another elephant was now brought : but the tiger made less resistance each succes- sive attack. It was evident that the tosses he received must soon occasion his death. All the elephants were furnished with tusks ; and the mode of attack, in every instance, (for several others were called forward,) was that of rushing upon the tiger, thrusting their tusks un- der him, and throwing him to a distance. Of their trunks they evidently were very careful, rolling them up cautiously under their chin. When the tiger was perfectly dead, an elephant was brought up, who, instead of raising the tiger with his tusks, seized him with his trunk, and, in eneral, cast him to the distance of thirty feet. 35* INTREPIDITY OF AN AMERICAN OFFICER. 415 INTREPIDITY OF AN AMERICAN OFFICER, Gen. Van Dyke was engaged on a tour to the north- west, some time ai'ter the late war, for the purpose (among other objects) of selecting and obtaining from the Indians a site for a military post. He was attended by a small party, and they were unarmed. Before he had succeeded in his object, the Indians had conceived a design af mur- dering him and his party, and they accordingly fixed tho time for carrying their purpose into execution. A trader, who resided on the spot, communicated the plot to the "genei-al, and proposed, as the only possible chance of escape, that he should take shelter in his house, supposing that he might perhaps have interest with them sufficient to keep them from breaking into his house to perpetrate the intended massacre. The general received the intelli- gence — his own observation of the countenances of the Indians, left him no room to doubt its correctness — but he was unwilling to accept the offer of the trader. He thought it would derogate from the character he had obtained, to leave his tent and take shelter in a private house. His situation was perilous. The hour had almost arrived, and there was no possibility of escape or defense. In this extremity he determined on a bold experiment. With the aid of the trader, though not without difficulty, he succeeded in col- lecting the chiefs in council ; but their menacing conn- tenances gave evidence of the determination they had formed. At that critical moment, the assembly exhibited a most interesting scene. The general, with his little handful of men, all unarmed in the heart of the Indian country, was surrounded by many times their own number, of Indians, determined on the work of death, equipped for the horrid purpose, and waiting only for the signal of onset. The general arose with composure. He told them the object of his visit — that their happiness was also contem- plated — that he came among them as among brothers. lie had brought no forces, nor even arms with which to defend himself You see, said he, I have nothing but tltis, 416 EXPLOITS AND ADVENIURES. stretching out his hand with his cane. He reminded them that he was in the midst of their people, and he looked to them for protection.. They had listened with increasing attention to his discourse thus far. But here they could no longer remain in silent attention. They leaped from their seats, and rushing to him with all the ardor of friend- ship, they caught him in their arms — hugged him — gave him every assurance of protection, and during his stay among them, fully realized their promises. The result of this affair was highly creditable to the parties. But the principal object of introducing it here, is to illustrate the beneficial effects of pacific measures. ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS. The celebrated Colonel Boon was taken prisoner m 1778, by the Indians, and although ever watchful for an opportunity of escape, considered the attempt too hazard- ous, until roused by the dangers which threatened the early settlers of Kentucky. He discovered that five hun- dred warriors, under the command of some Canadian officers, had been embodied for the purpose of attacking Boonsborough. Taking advantage of the privilege allowed him from his skill in hunting, he, under pretence of killing a deer, boldly turned his course towards the settlement, and traveled incessantly, day and night, about two hundred miles, until he arrived at the stockade, or station, named in honor of himself. Mr. Smith was, at this time, commandant of the littie colony. His rank as major in the militia of Virginia, and nis personal qualifications, occasioned him to be chosen leader of the small band of heroic settlers, who, with the assistance of Colonel Boon, signalized themselves in the memorable defense of that place. We mean not to dwell upon the bravery of their conduct. Who, among Ameri- cans, could act otherwise than bravely, when defending their wives, their sisters, or their children 1 Major Smith had another, not less powerful motive, to stimulate his natural courage. The tender feelings of love had kindled ADVENTURE -WITH THE INDIANS. 417 into a flame, and made every emotion of his heart burn with a desire to distinguish himself in defense of the object of his affection, who, with her parents, had, some time previous, sought an asylum m the fort. The Indians invested the stockade before the garrison had completed the digging of a well, which they had com- menced on receiving information of the intended attack. Delay was absolutely necessary to complete this import- ant object, as their numbers were too small to permit its being accomplished, when employed in self-defense. They, consequently, entered into a deceptive negotiation for the sni render of the fort, which circumstance, fortunately, gave them time to complete their undertaking. Major Smith, who, with some others of the garrison, had engaged to meet an equal number of the enemy at a spring, within pistol shot of the station, for the purpose of arranging terms of capitulation, anticipated the usual treachery of the savages, and placed a number of his men on the side opposite the place of rendezvous, with strict orders to fire indiscriminately on the party, if a concerted signal should be given. Tiie conference was held, and the proposals for surrender declined by our countrymen, at the same time they observed a party of Indians secretly creeping towards the place. The hostile chiefs, who advanced under pretence of taking leave, attempted to seize our officers. At this moment, Smith waved his hat, when a voltey from the garrison prostrated four of the enemy. It was perhaps owing to the deliberate coolness of our marks- men, that their own party escaped into the fort, with the exception of one person, wounded by the fire of those who had secretly advanced towards the spring. The siege was thus begun, and continued with incessant firing, night and day, until the losses of the besiegers eventually obliged them to withdraw. Major Smith's manly heroism, his cool and humane con- duct throughout the defense of Boonsborough, which then consisted of only a few log cabins stockaded together, pro- duced sensations in the bosom of our young heroine, such as his previous respectful attention had not effected. These feehngs were heightened by solicitude for the life of her defender, who experienced a violent attack of fever 418 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. m consequence of the fatigues he had undergone during the uiege. After a few weeko. the inhabitaiits of Booneborough re- sumed the peaceful employment of husbandry, and t!iG proprietor of a farm, on the opposite side of Kentucky river, removed his family, and re-occupied the former cabins. It happened that our hendiie, whom we shall de- signate as Miss A., accompanied by a young female friend, took a walk on the banks of that romantic stream, for the piu pose of exercise and amusement. They rambled along the shore, and, meeting with a canoe, determined to visit their opposite neighbors. Although totally unaccustomed to the management of a boat, yet, as the river was low they did not doubt their ability to accomplish their object The tottering vessel was pushed from the shore, and, with hearts gay and light as the zephyrs which ruffled the pel- lucid element, our female navigators commenced their enterprise. Mutual raillery and laughter were excited by their own want of skill. The canoe was whirled round, until at length it struck a sand bar in a short bend of the river, beyond the immediate view of the fort, though not far distant from it. They were compelled to wade to the shore, wliere, after adjusting their light summer dresses, they proceeded to climb the bank, for the purpose of pay- ing their intended visit. At this moment, three Indians rushed from a bushy covert, and with savage manaces of instant death, forced them along. The horror of their unexpected situation, and the dread of the uplifted tomahawk, propelled them forward at the will of tiieir captors, and they ascended, with wonderful expedition, the steep ravine which led to the summit of the marble cliff of the Kentucky. Although breathless and exhausted, not a moment was allowed for respiration: their tangled clothes were torn by the bushes, without their daring to look back, in order to extricate them ; their shoes were soon destroyed by the rocks, and their wounded feet and lin)bs stained with blood. Without a moment's respite, fatigue, despair, and torture, attended every step, ami deprived them of all recollection, until our heroine was aroused »y certain attentions which one of the Indi- ans displayed It was a true savage evincement of lov^ ADVENTURE 'WITH THE INDIANS. 419 for while goading on our helpless females with a pointed stick, or using it with reiterated blows, he, in broken. English, gave Miss A. to understand, thi^t her present suf- ferings should be recompensed by her becoming his squaw, on their arrival at his nation. This information provod an acme of misery, which at once roused the mind of our heroine, and determined her to risk every hazard She broke the small branches of plants and bushes, as they passed along, and when night overtook them, delayed the [>arty as much as possible, by blundering movements an(? retarded steps. The Indians repeatedly discovered hei actions, and knowing, that if pursued by the garrison, il would occasion their own destruction, they rushed forward for the purpose of killing her — several attempts of this kind were restrained by her Indian lover, who, with threats of recrimination, warded off their blows. In this manner, oui female captives traveled throughout the night, and or return of day, were exhausted with fatigue and misery A momentary delay took place, while the Indians shot a butfalo, and cut oti' some pieces of its flesh. This oppor- tunity was not lost by Miss A., who endeavored to influ- ence the feelings of her Indian lover, by pomting to her wounded frame and bleeding teet. Her pallid countenance betokened exhausted nature, and with bitter tears she be- sought him to end her miseries at once, or else allow some respite to her suffering. The heart of the savage was affected, and after traveling a few miles further, he per- suaded his compani(ms to stop ; and, while they cooked part of their game, he occupied himself iu making a paii of moccasons for his fair captive. 8ot)ie few hours after the departure of the ladies from the foi-t, Major Smith, at that time in a state of convales- cence, in(iuired after them, and walked to the river for the purpose of joining their party. He hailed the inhabi- tants on the opposite bank, and finding tliat the ladies were not there, became alarmed, and proceeded, with another person, down the river to the canoe, which they reached by crossing the sand bar. Upon arriving on the other side, they discovered moccason tra«:ks, and proceed- ed with eager and rapid strides up the ravine, until the\ assured themselves that there were traces of only three 420 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. * Indians, who had seized theu female friends. Smith, with an agonized mind, sat down, whilst his companion return- ed to the garrison for arms, and with directions to obtain the assistance of two of the besf woodsmen. Another party was ordered likewise, immediately to proceed on horseback, to the upper Blue Licks, which, at that time was the usual pass for all northern Indians. Not a moment was lost. Major Smith and his com- rades soon began to follow the devious track of the In- dians. Whilst daylight lasted, his sagacious eye rapidly traced every indistinct sign. The bended blade of grasS; the crushed lichen, the smallest stone displaced, were un- erring guides in the pursuit, through places especially chosen for the purpose of preventing a discovery of the route. They fortunately had sufficient time to unravel the first intricate mazes pursued by the Indians, and when the sun was settkig, were convinced that the savages in- tended to make for the Blue Licks. This enabled our party to follow the general direction of the route all night, and, after some search, on the following morning, they recovered the Indian trace, at a short distance beyond the place where they had killed the buffalo. Some drops of h]ood which had fallen from the meat, alarmed our com- mander, and they turned back with the dreadful appre- hension that their female friends might be murdered. Their anxious minds, however, were happily soon relieved, and Smith, with silent expedition, resumed the trace, tell- ing his companions that they would meet their enemies at the next water course. On their arrival at the creek, see- ing no marks on the opposite side, they waded dowii the stream, with the utmost precaution, until they found a stone wet by the splashing of water. The major now silently arranged his men, ordered one abvove and another below the spot, whilst his third com- panion was stationed at the landing, as a central support. Smith cautiously crept forward on his hands and knees, until he saw the curhng smoke of the Indian fire. With deathlike silence he crawled through the bushes, and with- m thirty yaids, discovered an Indian stooping over the flame. The click of his rifle-lock startled the savage, who with eager gaze, looked around. At this moment, the POISONING IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 423 whistling bullet pierced his heart, and he fell prostrate on the fire. The two ladies sprang towards the major, and clung about him, just as the second Indian rushed forward with his tomahawk. Smith threw them off by a sudden effort, and turning his gun, aimed a blow, which his anta- gonist evaded, by springing on one side. The movcmen was of little avail, for he received his mortal wound from the person stationed at the rear The third Indian ran up the creek, and met his fate from the hands of the person stationed in that quarter. * We cannot pretend to describe the sudden change of bursting joy felt by the two young ladies. The blanket coats of our woodsmen were cut into garments for the females, whilst every humane assistance and tender care, to lessen their fatigue, were afforded, during the slow pro- gress of their journey homewards. No alarm was excited, except for a moment, on the ensumg day, when the party of horsemen overtook them. They had proceeded to the Blue Licks, and discovering no Indian trace, pursued a different route to the garrison, which led them on the trace of the victorious and happy party. POISONING IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. Marie Marguerite d'Aubray was the daughter ot M, d'Aubray, a gentleman who held a considerable judi cial office in Paris. In 1651, she married the Marquis dt Brinvillier. The Marquis de Brinvillier was a colonel oi a regiment of foot. While on service he had contracted an intimacy with a gentleman of the name of St. Croix, s captain of cavalry. There was some mystery about thii man's birth. It was known that he was from Montauban Some thought him an i'legitimate scion of a noble house ; others said he belonged to a respectable family ; but all agreed that he was totally destitute of the gifts of fortune. The Marquis de Brinvillier was much addicl^ed to pleasure. &<;. Croix got into his good graces, and was introduced into his house. At first he was only the husband's friend but presently he became the wife's lover ; and their attach 424 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. ment became mutual. The dissipation of the marqms !ife prt;vt;ii!i:fl hiii; rri>m <4>:i(..-viiig !iis wife's conduct, so that the pair carried on a guiiiy cniomerce without any suspicion on Ins part. His atlkirs became so disordered, liiat his wife succeeded on this ground in obtaining a sef)ara!ion, and after this paid no respect to decency or conceahnent in her connexion with her paramour. Scan- dalous, however, as her conduct was, it made no impres- sion on the mind of the marquis, whose apathy inciuced the marchioness' father, M. dlr\.ubray, to use his paternal auth(jrity. He obtained a lettre de cachet against St. Croix, who was arrested one day, when he was in a carnage with the marchioness, and carried to the bastile, where he remained for a year. Absence, far from abating the mar- chioness' passion, only inflamed it ; and the constraint to which she found it necessary to subject herself, in order to prevent a second separation, inflauied it still more. She Conducted herself, however, vviih such apparent propriety that she regained her father's t'avor, and even his confi- dence. St. Cnjix availed himself of the power which love had given him over his mistress, to root every good prin- ciple of feeling from her mind. Under his horrid lessons she became a monster, whose atrocities we hope and be- lieve, have liardly ever been paralleled. He resolved to take a dreadfid revenge on the family of d'Anbray, and at. the same time to get hjs whole property into the posses- sion of the n)archioness, that they might spend it together in thtir pleasures. Whilo St. Croix was in the bastile he nad firmed an acquaintance with an Italian, of the name of Exili, to whom he communicated his views. Exili ex- cited him to vengeance, and taught him the way to obtain It with impunity. Poisoning may be called, ^area^ce/Zewe, an Italian art. They acquired the art of composing poi- sons so disguised in their appearance and subtle in their ctiects, that they baffled the penetration and art of the physicians of that age. Some were slow, and consumed the viials of the victim by almost in)perceptible degrees ; otliers were sudden and violent in their action ; but few of them left any traces of their real nature ; for the symp- toms they produced were generally so equivocal, that they jiiight be ascribed to manv ordinary diseases. St. Croix POTSONINO IN THE SEVENTEENTn CENTURY. 423 irrecflijy dvivonred the instructions of his fellow prisoiuir, aiiii iefl the hastiit; prepared to exercise hi.s i'lfernai art. His first object of veugeauce was IM. d'Aubray iiimself ; ami he soon found means to persuade the daughter to be come the agent in the destruction of her father. The old gentleman had a house in the country, where he used to spend his vacafions. All his fondness for his daughter, « hom he now believed to have been " more sinned against tlian sinnuig," had returned; and she, on her part, behaved to him with an aj)pearance *of affectionate duty. She anx- iously attended to his every comfort ; and, as his health had suffered from the fatigues of his office, she employed herself in superintending the preparation of nice and nourishing broths, which she gave him herself, with every appearance of fender care, it is needless to say that these aliments contained some articles of Italian cookery ; and the wretch, as she sat by his bed-side, witnessing his sufferings, and listening to his groans, shed abundance of crocodile tears, while she eagerly administered to him remedies calculated to insure the accomplishment of her object. But neither the agonies of the poor old man, nor his touching expres- sions ol love and gratitude to the fiend at his side, could turn her for a moment from her fell purpose. He was carried back to Paris, where, in a few days, he sunk under the effects of the poison. No suspicion was entertained of the cause of his death ; the idea of such a crime could not even have entered into the imagination of any one. She returned as soon as possible to the arms of her para- mour, and made up for the restraint imposed on her dur- ing her father's life, by spending the money she had in- herited by his death, in undisguised profligacy. It after- wards appeared that this abandoned woman had made sure of the efficacy of her drugs by a variety of experi- ments, not only upon animals, but upon human beings. She was in the habit of distributing to the poor, poisoned Discuits, prepared by herself, the effect of which she found means to learn, without committing herself. But this was not enough ; she desired to be an eye witness of the pro- gress and symptoms of the effects produced by the poison; and for this purpose made the experiment on Francoise IlousseJ, her maid, to whom she gave, by way of treat, h 36* 426 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. p]ate of gooseberries and a slice of ham. The poor gir WIS very ill, but recovered ; and this was a lesson to St. Croix to make his doses stronger. M. d'Au bray's inheritance was not so beneficial to his infamous daughter, as she had expected. The best part of his property went to his son, M. d'Aubray, who suc- ceeded to his father's office, and another brother, a coun- selor. It was necessary, therefore, to put them out of the way also ; and this task St. Croix, thinking his accomplice had done enough for his purpose, took upon himself He had a villain at his devotion, of the name of La Chaussee This man had been in his service, and he knew him to be a fit agent in any atrocity. The marchioness got La Chaussee a place as servant to the counselor, who lived with his brother, the magistrate, taking great care to con- ceal from them that he had ever been in the service of St. Cr )ix. La Chaussee's employers promised him a hundred pistoles and an annuity for life, if he succeeded in causing the death of the magistrate, who was the first object of attack. In the beginning of April, 1670, the magistrate went to pass the Easter holidays at his house in the coun- try. His brother, the counselor, was of the party, and was attended by La Chaussee. One day, at dinner, there was a gibiet pie. Seven persons who eat of it became very ill, w^iile those who had not partaken of it, suflTered no uneasiness. The two brothers w^ere among the former,, and had violent fits of vomiting. They returned to Paris a few days afterwards, having the appearance of persons who had undergone a long and violent illness. St. Croix availed himself of this state of things to make sure of the fruit of his crimes. He obtained from the marchioness two promissory deeds, one for thirty thousand livres, in his own name, and another for twenty-five thousand livres, in the name of Martin, one of his familiars. The sum at first sight appears a small one, amounting only to about two thousand three hundred pounds sterling ; but the immense difference in the value of money since the seventeenth cen- tury, must be taken into account. Such, however, at al! events, was the price paid by this demon for the death of her two brothers. Meanwhile, the elder d'Aubray became worse and worse ; he could take no sustenance, and vom« POISONING IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 427 ited incessantly. The three last days of his life he felt a fire in his stomach, which seemed to be consuming its very substance. At length, he expired on the 17th of June, 1670. On being opened, his stomach and duodenum were black, and falling to pieces, as if they had been on a large fire ; and the liver was burnt up and gangrened. It was evident that he h^ been poisoned ; but on whom could suspicion fall ? There was no clue whatever to guide it. The marchioness had gone to the country. St. Croix wrote her that the magistrate was dead, and that, from his brother's situation, he must soon follow. It so turned cut. The unfortunate counselor died, after having lingered three months in excruciatmg torments ; and he was so far from suspecting La Chaussee of any hand in his death, that he left him a legacy of three hundred livres, which was paid. These three murders were still insufficient. There was yet a sister, who kept from the marchioness the half of the possessions, which she wished to gain by the death of her father and brothers. The sister's life was repeatedly attempted in the same way ; but the shocking occurrences in her family nad made her suspicious, and her precautions preserved her. The poor Marquis de Brinvillier was intended by his fury of a wife for her next victim. " Ma- dame de Brinvillier," says Madame de Sevigne, in another of her letters, " wanted to marry St. Croix, and for that purpose poisoned her husband, repeatedly. But St. jCroix, who had no desire to have a wife as wicked as him- self, gave the poor man antidotes ; so that, having been tossed backward and forward in this way, sometimes poisoned, and sometimes Mwpoisoned, (desempoisonne,) he has, after all, got oflfwith his life." Every body was con- vinced that the father and his two sons had been poisoned, yet nothing but very vague suspicions were entertained aa to the perpetrators of the crime. Nobody thought of St. Croix, as having had any thing to do with it. He had for a long time ceased, to all appearance, to have any connec- tion with Madame de Brinvillier ; and La Chaussee, the immediate agent, had played his part so well, that he was never suspected. At last, the horrible mystery was dis- covered. St. Croix continued to practise the art which had been so useful to him ; and, as the poisons he mad« 428 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. were so subtle as to be fatal even by respiration, he usea to intercept their exhalations while compounding them, by a glass mask over his face. One day the mask by acci- dent dropped off, and he fell dead on the spot ; " a death," eays the French writer, who mentions this occurrence, " much too good for a monster who had inflicted it by long and agonizing pangs on so many^aluable citizens." A judicial inquiry was set on foot, and many witnesses were examined. The testimony elicited was overwhelm- ing against the marchioness, and the supple tool, Chaussee, who was convicted of having poisoned the magistrate and the counselor, and condemned to be broken alive upon the wheel, after having been put to the question ordinary and extraordinary to discover his accomplices ; and the Mar- chioness de Brmvillier was condemned, by default, to be beheaded. Under the torture. La Chaussee confessed his crimes, and gave a full account of ail the transactions we have related, in so far as he was concerned with them. He was executed in the Place de Greve, according to his sentence. Desgrais, an officer of the Marechaussee, was sent to Liege, to arrest the marchioness. He was provided with an escort, and a letter from the king to the municipa- lity of that city, requesting that the criminal might be delivered up. Desgrais was permitted to arrest her and carry her to France. Among the pi-opfs against her, that which alarmed her the most was a written confession, con- taining the narrative of her life, kept by her in the caske^ which she made such desperate efforts to recover. No wonder she was now horrified at what she had thus com mitted to paper. In the first article she declared herself an incendiary, confessing that she had set fire to a house Madame Sevigne, speaking of this paper, says, " Madame de Brinvillier, tells us, in her confession, that she was de- bauched at seven years old, and has led an abandoned life ever since ; that she poisoned her father, her bnjthers, and one of her children ; nay, that she poisoned herself, to try the effect of an antidote. Medea herself did not do so much. She has acknowledged this confession to be of her writing — a great blunder; but she was in a high fever when she wrote it — that it was mei'e frenzy — a piece of extravagance which no one can read seriously." in a sub POISONING IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 429 jetftient letter, Madame de Sevigne adds, "Nothing is talked of but the sayings and doings of Madame de Brinvillier. She says, in her confession, that she has murdered her father — she was afraid, no doubt, that she might forget to accuse herself of it. The peccadilloes which she is afraid of forgetting, are admirable 1" Her confused, evasive, and contradictory answers ^o the questions put to her on her interrogatory by the court — a very objectionable step, by the way, of French criminal procedure — were considered as filling up the measure of evidence against her ; though, m this case, it was sufficently ample, without the aid either of her confessions or examinations before the judges. The corpus delicti, in the language of the law, was certain. The deaths of her two brothers by poison, were proved by the evidence of several medical persons ; and the testimo- ny of other witnesses established the commission of their crimes by St. Croix and her, through the instrumentality of La Chaussee. At length, by a sentence of the supreme criminal court of Paris, on the 16th July, 1676, Madame de Brinvillier was convicted of the murder of her father and her two brothers, and of having attempted the hfe of her sister; and condemned to make the amende honorable before the door of the principal church of Paris, whither she was to be drawn in a hurdle, with her feet bare, a rope about her neck, and carrying a burning torch in her hands ; from thence to be taken to the Place de Greve, her head sever- ed from her body on a scaffold, her body burnt, and her ashes thrown to the wind ; after having been, in the first • place, put to the question ordinary and extraordinary, to discover her accomplices. Though she had denied her crimes as long as she had any hopes of escape, she con- fessed every thing after her condemnation. During the latter days of her life, she was the sole object of public curiosity. An immense multitude assembled to see hei execution, and every window, on her way to the Place de Greve, was crowded with spectators. Lebrun, the cele- brated painter, placed himself in a convenient situation for observing her, in order, probably, to make a study for his ''passions." Among the spectators were many ladies of distinction, to some of whom, who had got very near her 430 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. she said, looking them firmly in the face, and with a sar» castic smile, " A very pretty sight you are come to see." Madame de Sevigne gives an account of this execution the day it took place, in a tone of levity which is not a little offensive, and Unbecoming a lady of her unquestion- able elegance and refinement. " Well 1" she says, " it is all over, and La Brinvillier is in the air. Her poor littW body was thrown into a large fire, and her ashes scatter- ed to the winds ; so that we breathe her, and there is no saying but this communication of particles may produce among us some poisoning propensities, which may surprise us. She was condemned yesterday. This morning hei sentence was read to her, and she was shown the rack ; but she said there was no occasion for it, for she would tell every thing. Accordingly, she continued till four o'clock giving a history of her life, which is even more frightful than people supposed. She poisoned her father ten times successively, before she could accomplish her object ; then her brothers ; and her revelations were full of love affairs, and pieces of scandal. At six o'clock she was taken, in her undress, and with a rope round her neck, to Notre Dame, to make the amende lionorable. She was then replaced in the hurdle, in which I saw her drawn backwards, with a confessor on one side, and the hangman on the other. It really made me shudder. Those who saw the execution, say she ascended the scaffold with a great deal of courage. Never was such a crovi^d seen nor such excitement witnessed in Paris." In another let- ter, the writer says : " A word more about Brinvillier. Sh? died as she lived — that is, boldly. When she went int(7 the place where she was to undergo the question, and saw three buckets of water, ' They surely are going to drow» me,' she said, ' for they can't imagine that I am going t(? drink all this.' She heard her sentence with great com posure. When the reading was nearly finished, she de- sired it to be repeated, saying, ' The hurdle struck me first, and prevented my attending to the rest.' On her way to execution, she asked her confessor to get the executioner placed before her, ' that I may not see that scoundrel Desgrais, she said, ' who caught me.' Her confessor re proved her for this sentiment, and sh? saiu, ' Ah, my God HANNAH LAMOND AND THE EAGLE 431 1 beg your pardon. Let me continue then to enjoy thig agreeable sight.' She ascended the scaffold alone and barefooted, and was nearly a quarter of an hour in being trimmed and adjusted for the block by the executioner; a piece of great cruelty, which was loudly murmured against. Next day, persons were seeking for her bones ; for there w^as a belief among the people that she was a saint." HANNAH LAMOND AND THE EAGLE. Almost all the people in the parish were leading in their meadow hay, (there was not in all its ten miles square, twenty acres of rye grass,) on the same day of midsum- mer, so drying was the sunshine and the wind ; and huge heaped up wains, that almost hid from view the horses that drew them along the sward, beginning to get green with a second growth, were moving in all directions, towards the snug farm-yards. Never had the parish seemed before so populous. Jocund was the balmy air, with laughter, whistle and song. But the Tregnomons threw the shadow of ''one o'clock" on the green dial face of the earth — the horses were unyoked, and took instantly to grazing— groups of men, women, lads, lasses, and children, collected under grove, and bush, and hedge-row — graces were pro- nounced, some of them rather too tedious, in presence of the mantling milk cans, bullion bars of butter, and crack ling cakes ; and the great Being who gave them that day their daily bread, looked down from His Eternal Throne, well pleased with the piety of his thankful creatures. The great golden eagle, the pride and the pest of the parish, stooped down and took away something in his talons. One single, sudden, female shriek — and then «houts and outcries, as if a church spire had tumbled down on a congregation at a sacrament I " Hannah Lamond's bairn I" " Hannah Lamond's bairn I" was the loud, fast- spreading cry. " The eagle's ta'en off Hannah Lamond's bairn I" and many hundred people were in another instant Uurrvinar towards the mountain. Two miles of hill, and 432 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. dale, and copse, and shingle, and many intersecting brooks lay between ; but irf an incredibly short time, the fool of the mountain was alive with people. The eyrie was wel known, and both old birds were visloie on the rock ledge But who shall scale the dizzy cliff, which Mark Stewartf the sailor, who had been at the storming of many a fort, attempted in vain. All kept gazing, weeping, wringing of hands, in vain, rooted to the ground, or running back- wards and forwards, like so many ants, essaying their new wings in vain attempts. " What^s the use — what's the use o' ony puir human means ? We have no power but in prayer !" and many knelt down — fathers and mothers thinking of their own babies — as if they would force the deaf heavens to hear I Hannah Lamond had, all this while, been sitting- on a rock, with a face perfectly white, and eyes like tlioso of a mad person, fixed on the eyrie. Nobody had noticed her • for strong as all sympathies with her had been, at thg swoop of the eagle, they were now swallowed up m the agony of eyesight. " Only last Sabbath was my sweei wee wean baptized in the nanie of the Father, and the Soru and the Holy Ghost !" and on uttering these words, sh« flew off through the biakes, and over the huge stones, up up, up, faster than ever hunt>sman ran in to the de&th fearless as a goat playing among the precipices. No one doubted, no one could doubt, that she would soon be dashed to pieces. But have not people who walk in theii sleep, obedient to the mysteriouis guidance of dreams, clomb the walls of old ruins, and found fooii. ^, even in decrepitude, along the edge of the unguarded bail'ements, and down dilapidated staircases, deep as draw veils, or coal pits, and returned with open, fixed, ind unseeing eyes, unharmed to their beds at midnight '( It is all the woik of ,the soul, to whom the body is a slave : and shall not the agony of a mother's passion, who sees ber baby, whose warm mouth has just left her breast, hurried off by a demon, to a hideous death, bear her limbs aloft wherever there is dust to dust, till she reach that devouring den ; and fiercer and more furious far, in the passion of love, than any bird of prey that ever bathed its beak in blood, throtiie itie fiends, that with their heavy wings, would tain HANNAH LAMOND AND THE EAGLE. 433 flap her down the cliffs, and hold up her child in deliver- ance, before tlie eye of the all-seeing God ? No Stop, no Slay — she knew not that she drew hei breath. Beneath her feet Providence fastened every loose stone, and to her hands strengthened every root. How was siie ever to descend ? That fear, then, but once crossed her heart, as up, up, to the little image made of her own flesh and blood. "The God who holds me now from I'erishing, will not the same God save me when my child is on my bosom ?" Down came the fierce rushing ol the eagle's wings ; each savage bird dashed close to hei head, so that she saw the yellow of their wrathful eyes. All at once they quailed and were cowed. Yelling, they flew off to the stump of an ash jutting out of a cliff, a thou- sand ^feet above the cataract and the Christian mother falling across the eyrie, in the midst of bones and blood clasped her child, dead, dead, dead, no doubt ; but un mangled and untorn, and swaddled up just as it was when she laid it down asleep among the fresh hay, in a nook of the harvest field. O ! what pangs of perfect blessedness transfixed her heart, from that faint, feeble cry, " It lives, it hves, it lives !" and baring her bosom, with loud laughter, and eyes dry as stones, she felt the lips of the unconscious innocent, rmce more murmuring at the fount of life and love ! " Oh, thou great and thou dreadful God ! whither hast thou brought me, one of the most sinful of thy crea- tures ? Oh, save my soul, lest it perish, even for thy own name's sake ! O thou, who diedst to save smners, have mercy upon me !" Cliffs, chasms, blocks of stones, and the skeleton? jf old trees, intervened between her and safety ; while tar, far down, and dwindled into specks, were seen a thousand creatures of her own kind, stationary, or run- ning to and fro ! Was that the sound of the waterfall, or the faint roar of voices? Is that her native strath? and that tuft of trees, does it contain the hut in which stands the cradle of her child ? Never more shall it be rocked by her foot ! Here must she die ; and when her breast is ex- hausted, her baby too ! And those horrid beaks, and eyes, and talons, and wings, will return, and her child will be devoured at last, even within the dead bosom that caa protect it no more. 37 434 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES, Where, all this while, was Mark Stewart, the sailor? Halfway up the cliffs. But his eye had got dim and Ins Head dizzy, and his heart sick ; and he, who had so often reefed the top-gallant sail, when, at midnight, the coming of the gale was heard afar, covered his face with his hands and dared look no longer on the swimming heights. " And who will take care of my poor bed-ridden mother," thought Hannah, whose soul, through the exhaustion of so many passions, could no more retain in its grasp, that hope whic i it had clutched in despair. A voice whispered, " God." She looked round, expecting to see an angel, but nothing moved except a rotten branch, that, under its own weight, broke off from the crumbling rock. Her eye, by some secret sympathy of her soul with the inanimate object, watched its fall ; and it seemed to stop, not far off, on a platform. Her child was bound within her bosom* sh^ remembered not how or when ; but it was safe ; and scarcely daring to open her eyes, she slid down the shelv- ing rocks, and found herself on a small piece of firm, root- bound soil, with the lops of bushes appearing below. With fingers suddenly strengthened into the power of iron, she swung herself down by briar, and broom, and heather, and dwarf-birch. There, a loosened stone leaped over the ledge, and no sound was heard, so profound was its fall. There, the shingle rattled down the screes, and she hesi- tated not to follow. Her foot bounded against the huge stone that stopped them, but she felt no pain. Her body was callous as the cliff. Steep as the wall of a house, was now the side of the precipice. But it was matted with ivy, centuries old, long ago dead, and without ^ single green leaf; but with thousands of arm-thick stems peinfj^d into the rock, and covering it as \yith a trellice. She Dound her baby to her neck, and with hands and feet, clung to that fearful ladder. Turning round her hear! and looking down, lo ! the whole population of the parish — so great was the multitude, on their knees ! and, hush — the voice of psalms ! a hj'Tjn, breathing the spirit of one united in prayer ! Sad and solemn was the strain, but nothing dirge-like, breathing not of death, hut deliverance. Often had she sung that tune, perhaps the very words, but them she heard not — in her own hut, she and her mother— or ai HANNAH LAMOND AND THE EAGLE. 435 the kirk, along with all the congregation. An unseen hand seemed fastening her fingers to the ribs of ivy, and in a sudden inspiration, believing that her life was to be saved, she became almost as fearless as if she had been changed into a winged creature. Again her feet touciied stones and earth ; the psalm was hushed ; but a tremendous sob- bing voice was closed beside her, and lo I a she goat, with two little kids, at her feet ! " Wild heights," thought she, ' do these creatures climb ; but the dam will lead down iier kids by the easiest paths, for oh ! even in the brute creatures, what is the holy power of a mother's love !" and, turning round her head, she kissed her sleeping baby, and for the first time, wept. Overhead frowned the front of the precipice, never touched before by human hand or foot. No one had ever dreamt of scaling it, and the golden eagle knew that well, in their instinct, as before they built their eyrie, they had brushed it with their wings. But all the rest of this part of the mountain side, though scarred, and seamed, and chasmed, was yet accessible. — and more than one person in the parish had reached the bottom of the Glead's Cliff. Many were now attempting it ; and ere this cautious mo- ther had followed her dumb guides a hundred yards, though among dangers, that, although enough to terrify the stout- est heart, were traversed by her without a shudder, the head of one man appeared, and then the head of another, and she knew that God had delivered her and her child in safety, into the care of their fellow-creatures. Not a word was spoken — eyes said enough ; she hushed her friends with her hands, and with uplifted eyes pointed to the guides sent to her by heaven. Small green plots, where those creatures nibble the wild flowers, became now more frequent — trodden fines, almost as easy as sheep patns, showed that the dam had not led her young into danger ; and now the brush-wood dwindled away into straggling shrubs, and the party stood on a little eminence above the stream, and forming part of the strath. There had been trouble and agitation, much sobbing, and many tears, among the multitude, while the mother was scaling the cliffs — sublime was the shout that echoed afar, the moment she reached the eyrie — then succeeded 436 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. a silence deep as death ; in a little while arose that hymn- ing prayer, succeeded by mute supplication — the wildnesy of thankful and congratulatory joy had next its sway ; and now that her salvation was sure, the great crowd rustled like a wind-swept wood. And for whose sake was all this alternation of agony? A poor, humble creature, un- known to many, even by name ; one who had but few ft Jends, nor wished for more, contented to work all day hare, there, any where, that she might be able to support her aged mother and her little child ; and who, on Sab- bath, took her seat in an obscure pew, set apart for pau pers, in the kirk ! " Fall back and give her fresh air 1" said the old minis- ter of the parish ; and the circle of close faces widened round her, lying as in death. " Give me the bonny bit bairn into my arms," cried first one mother and then another, and it was tenderly handed round the circle of kisses, many of the snooded maidens bathing its face in tears. " There's not a single scratch upon the puir inno- cent, for the eagle, you see, maus hae stuck its talons into the lang claes and the shawl. Blin, blin, maun they b© who see not the finger o' God in this thing I" Hannah started up from her swoon, and looking wild?) round, cried, " Oh, the bird — the bird I — the eagle — the eagle 1 The eagle has carried off my bonny wee Walter is there nane to pursue ?" A neighbor put her baby to hei breast, and shutting her eyes, and smiting her forehead the sorely bewildered creature said, in a low voice, " And waaken — oh I tell me if I'm waaken, or, if a' this be the wark of a fever, and the delirium of a dream ?" IROQUOIS BOY. The following is extracted from "The Travelers," a tale, by the author of Redwood. A family of travelers is represented as having stopped on a point of land at the junction of the Oswegatchie with the St. Lawrence, to view the remains of an old fortification. While they were viewing this monument of olden time, a gentleman ap- iRoauois BOY. 437 peared, who, like them, had been attracted to the spot by curiosity, and, after introducing himself, begged leave to relate a traditionary story, which he had picked up in his journey through Canada, some of the events of which had been located at this place. The family very readily as- sented to the proposal, and the stranger related the follow- ing particulars: A commandant of this fort (which was built by the French, to protect their traders against the savages) mar- ried a young Iroquois, who was, before or after the mar- riage, converted to the Catholic faith. Her brother lurked in the neighborhood, and procured interviews with her, and attempted to win her back, by all the motives of na- tional pride and family affection ; but all in vain. The young Garanga, or, to call her by her baptismal name, Marguerite, was bound by a threefold cord — her love to her husband, to her son, and to her religion. Mecumeh, finding persuasion ineffectual, had recourse to stratagem. The commandant was in the habit of going down the river often, on fishing excursions, and when he returned he would fire his signal gun, and Marguerite and her boy would hasten to the shore to greet him. On one occasion he had been gone longer than usual- Marguerite was filled with apprehension, natural enough at any time, when imminent dangers and hair-breadth escapes were of every day occurrence. She had sat in the tower, and watched the returning canoe till the last beam of day had faded from the waters. The deepening of twilight played tricks with her imagination. Once she was started by the water-fowl, which, as it skimmed along the surface of the water, imaged to her fancy the light canoe, impelled by her husband's vigorous arm. Again she heard the leap of the heavy muskalonghi, and the splashing waters sounded to her fancy like the first dash of the oar. That passed away, and disappointment and tears followed. Her boy was beside her; the young Louis, who, though scarcely twelve years old, already had his imagination filled with daring deeds. Born and bred in a fort, he was an adept in the use of the bow and the nmsket ; courage seemed to be his instinct, and danger Ills element, and battles and wounds were " household 37* 438 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. words" with him. He laughed at his mother's fears ; but in spite of his boyish ridicule, they strengthened, till appre- hension seemed reality. Suddenly the sound of the signal gun broke on the still of the night. Both mother and son sprang on their feet, with a cry of joy, and were pressing, hand in hand, towards the outer gate, when a sentinel stopped them, to remind Marguerite that it was her hus- band's order that no one should venture without the walls after sunset. She, however, insisted on passing, and telling the soldier that she would answer the commandant for his breach of orders, she passed the outer barrier. Young Louis held up his bow and arrow before the sentinel, say- ing, gaily, " I am my mother's body-guard, you know." Tradition has preserved these trifling circumstances, as the events that followed rendered them memorable. The distance (continued the stranger) from the fort to where the commandant moored his canoe, was trifling, and quickly passed. Marguerite and Louis flew along the foot path, reached the shore, and were in the arms of Mecuraeh and his fierce companions. Entreaties and re- sistance were alike vain. Resistance was made, with manly spirit, by young Louis, who drew a knife from the girdle of one of the Indians, and attempted to plunge it into the bosom of Mecumeh, who was roughly binding his wampum belt over Marguerite's mouth, to deaden the sound of her screams. The uncle wrested the knife from him, and smiled proudly on him, as if he recognised in the brave boy a scion from his own stock. The Indians had two canoes ; Marguerite was conveyed to one, Louis to the other, and both canoes were rowed into the Oswegatchie, and up the stream as fast as it was possible to impel them against the current of the river. Not a word or cry escaped the boy ; he seemed inten on some purpose ; and when the canoe approached near the shore, he took off a military cap he wore, and threw it so skillfully that it lodged, where he meant it should, on the branch of a tree which projected over the water. There was a long white feather in the cap. The Indians had observed the boy's movement — they held up their oars for a moment, and seemed to consult whether they should return and remove the cap ; but after a moment, IROQUOIS BOY. 439 lliey again dashed their oars into the water and proceeded forward. They continued rowing for a few miles, and then landed ; hid their canoes behind some trees on the river's bank, and plunged into the woods with their pris- oners. It seems to have been their intention to have re- turned to their canoes in the morning, and they had not proceeded far from the shore, when they kindled a fire and prepared some food, and offered " to share it with Marguerite and Louis. Poor Marguerite, as you may suppose, had no mind to eat ; but Louis, saith tradition, ate as heartily as if he had been safe within the walls of the fort. After supper, the Indians stretched themselves before the fire, but not till they had taken the precaution to bind Marguerite to a tree, and compel Louis to lie down in the arms of his uncle Mecumeh. Neither of the prison- ers, as you may imagine, closed their eyes. Louis kept his eyes fixed on his mother. She sat upright beside an old decayed oak ; the cord was fastened around her waist, and bound around the tree, which had been blasted by lightning ; the moon poured its beams through the naked branches upon her face, convulsed with agony of despair and fear. With one hand she held a crucifix to her lips — ■ the other was on her rosary. The sight of his mother in such a situation, stirred up daring thoughts in the bosom of the heroic boy ; he lay powerless in his, uncle's naked, brawny arms. He tried to disengage himself, but, at the slightest movement, Mecumeh, though still sleeping, seem- ed conscious, and strained him closer to him. At last the strong sleep, that in the depth of the night steeps the senses in utter forgetfulness, overpowered him ; his arms relaxed their hold, dropped beside him, and left Louis free. He rose cautiously, looked for one instant on the In- aians, and assured himself they all slept profoundly. He then possessed himself of Mecumeh's knife, which lay at his feqj;, and severed the cord that bound his mother to the tree. Neither of them spoke a word ; but with the least possible sound they proceeded to the shore ; Louis in the confidence, and Marguerite with the faint hope of reach- ing it before they were overtaken. You may imagine how often the poor mother, timid as a fawn, was startled by the evening breeze stirring the 440 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. 'eaves ; but the boy bounded forward as if there was neither fear nor danger in the world. They had nearly attained the margin of the river, where Louis meant to launch one of the canoes and drop down the current, when the Indian yell, resounding through the woods, struck on their ears. They were missed, pursued, and to escape was impossible. Marguerite, panic-struck, sunk on the ground. Nothing could check the career of I^ouis. " On — on, mother," he cried, " to the shore — to the shore." She rose, and instinctively followed her boy. The sound of pursuit came nearer and nearer. They reached the shore, and there beheld three canoes coming swiftly up the river. Animated with hope, Louis scream- ed the watch-word of the garrison, and was answered by his father's voice. The possibility of escape, and the certain approach of ner husband, infused new life into Marguerite. " Your father cannot see us," she said, " as we stand here in the shade of these trees ; hide yourself in that thicket, I will plunge into the water." Louis crouched under the bushes, and was completely hidden by an overhanging grapevine, while his mother advanced a few steps into the water, and stood erect, where she could be distinctly seen. A shout from the canoes apprised her that she was recognised, and at the same moment, the Indians, who had now reached the shore, rent the air with their cries of rage and defi ance. They stood for a moment, as if deliberating wha? next to do : Mecumeh maintained an undaunted and re solved air ; not so his followers ; the aspect of armed men. and a force thrice their number, had its usual effect — they fled. He looked after them, cried " shame !" and then, with a desperate yell, leaped into the water, and stood beside Marguerite. The canoes were now within a few yards ; he put his knife to her bosom. " The daughter of Tecumseh," he said, " should have died by the judgment of our warriors ; but now by her brother's hand must she perish ;" and he drew back his arm to give vigor to the fatal stroke, when an arrow pierced his own breast, and he fell, insensible, at his sister's side. A moment after, JNIarguerite was in the arms of ^er husband, and Louis, with his bow unstrung, bounded trom the shore, and was DREADFUL MYSTERY. 443 receivea into his father's canoe ; and the wild shores rang with the acclamations of the soldiers, while his father's tears of pride and joy were poured like rain upon his cheek. DREADFUL MYSTERY. is the year 1805, as a poor mason was returning one ijvening from his daily labors, he was met in an obscure «1reet in Paris, by a well dressed man, whose face he never remembered to have seen before, but who stopped him, And inquired of him to what trade he belonged. On be- ing answered that he was a mason, the man said, that if lie would wall up a certain niche which would be shown lo him, he should receive as his reward fifty louis d'ors The stranger added, that he must submit to have his eyes covered, and to be carried in that state for a considerable distance. To all this the mason readily consented, partly from curiosity, and partly from the greatness of the reward offered to him for so inconsiderable a work. The stranger immediately placed a bandage over his eyes, and having led him by the hand for a few paces, they came to the spot where a carriage waited for them, into which they both got, and it drove rapidly off. They soon got out of Paris ; at least so the mason conjectured, from the noise of the wheels going over the stones having ceased. After having proceeded thus for about two hours, the rattling "of the stones returned, and they seemed to the mason to have entered another town ; shortly after which, they stopped, and the mason was taken out of the carriage, and led through several passages, and up a flight of stairs, till they came to a place where he heard the sound of voices. Here his eyes were uncovered, and he found himself in a arge room, the walls, roof, and floor of which, were en- tirely hung with black cloth, excepting a niche on one side, which was left open. By the side of it, were placed a considerable quantity of stones and mortar, together with all the tools necessary for the work upon which the raason was to be employed. 444 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. There were also several men in the room, whose faces were covered with masks. One of these came up to the mason, and addressing himself to him, said, " Here are fifty louis d'ors which were promised you ; and there is only one condition to be exacted from you, which is, that you must never mention to any person, what you may see, or hear, in this place." This the mason promised ; and at this instant, another man, who was also masked, entered the room, and demanded if all was ready. Upon being answered in the affirmative, he went out, and returned again in a few minutes with two other men, both masked, and one of whom, from the whiteness of his hair, the ma- son supposed to be an old man. These thi'ee dragged in with them a very beautiful young woman, with her hair disheveled, and her whole appear- ance betokening great disorder. They pushed her with great violence into the niche, into which they succeeded .n forcing her, notwithstanding her struggles and resist- ance. During this time she never ceased alternately utter- mg dreadful screams, and crying for mercy in the most piteous manner. Once she got loose from her persecutors and immediately prostrated herself at the feet of the old man, and embracing his knees, besought him to kill her at once, and not to let her suffer a cruel and lingering death ; but all in vain. When the three men had at last forced her into the middle of the niche, they held her there, and commanded the mason to commence his work, and waii her up. Upon witnessing this dreadful scene, the mason fell on his knees, and entreated to be permitted to depart, without being accessory to this act of cruelty. The men, how- ever, told him, that this was impossible. They menaced him, il' he refused to perform his promise, with instant death ; whereas, on the other hand, if he complied, they said he should receive an additional fifty louis d'ors, when he had completed his work. This united threat and promise had such an effect upon the mason, that he instantly did as he was commanded, and at last, actually walled up the poor victim, so as to render her escape impossible. She was then left to perist bv slow degrees, without light or sustenance. THE RAID OF CILLECHRIST. 445 When the mason had finished, he received the fifty addi- tional louis d'ors ; his eyes were again covered ; he was led through various pav«!sages, as on his arrival, and finally put into the carriage, which drove oif as rapidly as before. When he was again taken out of it, his eyes were uncov- ered, and he found himself standing on the exact spot in Paris, where he had first met the stranger. The same man now stood beside him, and addressing him, desired him not to stir from the place where he then was, for five minuteS; after which, he was at hberty to return home ; adding, that he was a dead man if he moved before the time prescribed. He then left him ; and the mason, having waited the five minutes, proceeded straight to the police officers, to whom he told his story ; and they carried him immediately to the Duke of Abrantes. The duke at first imagined his account to be an invention ; but upon his producing the purse containing the hundred louis d'ors, he was compelled to believe it. The strictest search was immediately made in and about Paris, for the discovery of the perpetrators of this horrid murder, but in vain. The Emperor Napoleon immediately interested himself in it, and special orders were issued by him to the officers of the police, to leave no means untried to attain their object. Many houses were searched, in hope of finding some place which had been lately walled up, and which answered the account given by the mason; but notwithstanding all these endeavors, nothing furthei has ever transpired respecting this dreadful mystery. THE RAID OF CILLECHRIST. Bordering clans, like neighboring nations, were never upon terms of hereditary concord ; vicinity prcjduced rivalry, and rivalry produced war : for this reason, the Mac Donells and the Mac Kenzies were never long, without some act of hostility or feud ; firing houses, driving herds, raising rents, and slaughtering each other's'clansmen, were feats of recreation, which each was equally willing to exer- cise upon his neighbor ; and if either was more deficient 3S 446 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. than the other, it was more for want of opportunity, than lack of good will Among all the exploits, which were thus occasioned between the two clans, none was more celebrated, nor more fearful, than the burning of the Cillechrist, (Christ's church ;) it gave occasion and name to the pibroch of the Glengarrie family, and was provoked and performed in the following manner : — In the course of a long succession of fierce and sanguinary conflicts, the Mac Lelans, a race who were followers of the Mac Ken- iies, took occasion to intercept and assassinate the eldest son of Donald Mac Angus, of Glengarrie. Donald died shortly after, and his second son who succeeded to the chieftaincy of the clan, was too young to undertake the conduct of any enterprise, to revenge the death of his brother ; his cousin, however, Angus Mac Raonuill, of Lundi, acted as his captain, and gathering the Mac Donells, m two separate raids, swept off the rents from the greater part of Lord Seaforth's country. Still, this revenge seemed to him too poor an expiation for the blood of his chief ; the warm life of the best of his foemen was the only sacrifice, which he thought he could offer as an acceptable oblation lo appease the manes of the murdered ; and he, there- fore, projected a third expedition, resolving, in this, to fill the measure of vengeance to the brim. In the prosecution of his design, he awaited a favorable opportunity, and, gathering a small band of men, penetrated into the country of the Mac Kenzies, early on Sunday morning, and sur- rounded the Cillechrist, while a numerous congregation were assembled within its walls. Inexorable in his pur- pose, Angus commanded his men to set fire to the build- ing, and slaughter all who endeavored to break forth. Struck with despair, when the flames rushed in upon the aisle of the church, and they beheld the circle of bare claymores glancing beyond the door, the congregation, scarce knowing what they did, endeavored to force their way through the weapons and the flames ; but pent within the narrow pass of a single arch, they were not capable to make way over each other, far less to break the ring of broad swords, which bristled around the porch : men, women, and children, were driven back into the blazing pile, or hewn down and transfixed at the gorge of the en THE RAID OF CILLECHRIST THE RAID OF CILLECHRIST. 447 tiance. The flames increased on every side ; a heavy column of livid smoke rolled upward to the air, and the roar of infuriated men, the wailing of suffering infants, and the shrieks of despairing women, rung from within the dissolving pile. While the church was burning, the piper of the Mac Donells marched round the building, playing, as was customary on extraordinary occasions, an extem- pore piece of music : the pibroch which he now played was called, from the place where it was composed, Cille- christ, and afterwards became the pibroch of the Glen- garrie family. At length the flames poured forth from every quarter of the building, the roof fell in, there was one mingled j'ell, one crash of ruin ; the flame sunk in smouldering vapor, and all was silent. Angus had looked on with stern, unrelenting determination ; but the deed was done, and recollection now warned him of the danger of delay. He immediately gave orders to retreat, and leading off his men, set off, with the utmost expedition, for his own country. The flames of the church had, however, lighted a beacon of alarm, which blazed far and widf> : the Mac Kenzies had gathered in numerous bodies, and took the chase with such vigor, that they came in sight of the Mac Donells, long before they got to the border of their own country. Angus Mac Raonuill, seeing the de- termination of the pursuit, and the superiority of its num- bers, ordered his men to separate, and shift each for him- self; they dispersed accordingly, and made every one his way to his own home, as well as he could. The com- mander of the Mac Kenzies did not scatter his people ; but, intent on securing the leader of the foemen, held them together on the track of Angus Mac Raonuill, who, with a few men in his company, fled towards Loch Ness. Angus always wore a scarlet plush jacket, and it now served to mark him out to the knowledge of his pursuers. Perceiv- ing that the whole chase was drawn after himself, he separated his followers, one by one, till at length, he was left alone ; but yet the pursuers turned not aside, upon the track of any other. When they came near the bum of Alt Shian, the leader of the Mac Kenzies had gained so much on the object of his pursuit, that he had nearly over- taken him. The river, which was before them, ruas in 448 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. this place through a rocky chasm, or trough, of immense depth, and considerable breadth : Angus knew that death was behind him, and gathering all his strength, he dashed at the desperate leap, and, being a man of singular vigor and activity, succeeded in clearing it. The leader of the Mac Kenzies, reckless of danger, in the ardor of pui-suit, followed also at the leap; but, less athletic than his adver- sary, he failed of its length, and slipping on the side of the crag, held by the slender branch of a birch tree, which grew above him on the brink. The Mac Donell, looking back in his flight, to see the success of his pursuer, beheld him hanging to the tree, and struggling to gain the edge of the bank. He turned, and drawing his dirk, at one stroke severed the branch which supported the Mac Ken- zie : " I have left much behind me with you to-day," saia he, " take that, also." The wretched man, rolling from rock to rock, fell headlong into the stream below, where, shattered and mangled by the fall, he expired in the water. Angus Mac Raonuill continued his flight, and the Mac Kenzies, though bereft of their leader, held on the pursuit. Checked, however, by the stream, which none of them dared to leap, Angus was gaining fast upon them, when a musket, discharged at him by one of the pursuers, wounded him severely, and greatly retarded his speed. After pass- ing the river, the JMac Kenzies again drew hard after him, and as they came in sight of Loch Ness, Angus, perceiving his strength to fail with his wound, and his enemies press- ing upon him, determined to attempt swimming the loch ; he rushed into the water, and, for some time, refreshed by its coolness, swam with much vigor and confidence. His limbs would, however, in all probability, have failed him, before he had crossed half the distance of the opposite bank ; but, Frasor of Fyars, a particular friend of the Glengarrie family, seeing a single man puisued by a party out of ihe Mac Kenzies' country, and knowing that the Mac Donells had gone upon an expedition in that direc- tion, got out a boat, and hastening to the aid of Angus, took him on board, and conveyed him in safety to the east side of the loch. The Mac Kenzies, seeing their foe- men had escaped, discontinued the pursuit, and Anguii returned at his leisure to Glengarrie. INGENUITY OF SIR MATTHEW HALE. 451 INGENUITY OF SIR MATTHEW HALE. A GENTLEMAN, of Considerable independence, in the north of England, had two sons, the eldest of whom caused him much anxiety, from his dissipated character afid conduct ; the young man himself, tired of restraint, asked permission of his father to go to some foreign clime, which was readily granted, and a sum of money advanced him for that purpose. He had not, however, long left ' home, before the ship he was on board of, was taken by the Algeriiies, and, consequently, he was taken prisoner to Algiers, where he remained a considerable number of years, without the least opportunity offering of sending, or hearing from home ; at length, however, he fortunately effected his escape, and returned to his native land, almost destitute of clothing, and entirely pennyless. When he arrived at the village where he drew his first breath, to his first inquiry, he was informed that his father had been dead many years, and his younger brother in full possession of .he estates ; on this information, he proceeded immedi- itely to his brother's house, where, on his arrival, he stated who he was, and recounted his misfortunes. He was at first received with evident tokens of surprise ; but what was his astonishment, after hi? brother had a little recov- ered himself, to find that he, the younger brother, was determined to treat him as an impostor, and ordered him to quit the house, for that he had a number of witnesses to prove the death of his elder brother abroad ! Being thus received, he returned to the village, but met with no suc- ceos, as those who would have been likely to give him as&istance, were either dead or gone away; in this predi- cament, he succeeded in finding an attorney at a little dis- tance, to whom he related the circumstances exactly as they stood, and requested his advice. The attorney, see- ing the desperate state in which the affair stood, observed, that as his brother was in possession, he would be likely to have recourse to every unjust means, by suborning wit- nesses, &c. ; but, however, he would undertake to advo- cate the cause, on condition that if he proved successful, he should be paid a thousand pounds ; if the contrary, said 452 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. the attorney, (as you have nothing to give,) I shall demana nothing: to this proposal, of course, the elder brother agreed. It should be remarked, at this time bribery and corruption were at such a pitch, that it was no uncommon circumstance for judge, jury, &c., in short, the whole court, to be perverted on one side or the other : the lawyer natu rally concluded, this being the case, that the elder brother stood but a very indifferent chance, although he himself had no doubt of the validity of his claim ; in this dilemma tie resolved to take a journey to London, and lay the case before Sir Matthew Hale, then Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench, a character no less conspicuous for his abili- ties, than for his unshaken integrity and strict impartiality. Sir Matthew heard the relation .of circumstances with pa- tience, as likewise the attorney's suspicions of the means that would be adopted to deprive the elder brother of his rig it. He (Sir Matthew) desired him to go on with the regular process of the law, and leave the rest to him. Thus matters rested until the day of trial came on ; a few days previous to which, Sir Matthew left home, and trav- eled till he came within a short distance of the town, where the matter was to be decided, when, passing a miller's house, he directed the coachman to stop, while he alighted from his carriage, and went into the house ; after saluting the miller, he told him he had a request to make, which he hoped would be complied with, which was, to exchange clothes with him, and allow him to leave his carriage, &c., there, until he returned, in a day or two. The miller at first thought Sir Matthew was, joking; but on being cor- 'vinced to the contrary, he would fain have fetched his bes suit ; but no. Sir Matthew would have none but the work ing-dress the miller had on ; the exchange was soon effect- ed, and Sir Matthew, equipped with the miller's clothes, hat, and wig, proceeded on foot, the following morning. Understanding the trial between the two brothers was to take place that day, he went early to the yard of the court hall, without having h-^d communication with any one on the subject. By mixing in the crowd, he had soon an op- portunity of having the elder brother pointed out to him ; he soon after accosted him with, " Well, my friend, how is yom cause likely to go on ?" " I do not know," replied he, INGENUITY OF SIR MATTHEW HALE. 453 " but I am afraid but badly, for I have every reason to suppose, that both judge and jury are deeply bribed : and for myself, I have nothing but the justice of my cause to depend on ; unsupported by the property which my brother can command, 1 have but faint hopes of succeeding." He then recounted to the supposed miller, the whole of his tale, and finished by informing him of the agreement which had taken place between him and the lawyer : although Sir Matthew was in possession of the principal part of the cu-cumstances, yet the ingenuous relation he had now heard, left no doubt in his mind, of his being the person he represented himself, and, consequently, heir to the estate in question. Sir Matthew,' being determined to act ac- cordingly, he, with this view, begged of the elder brother not to be low-spirited on the subject, " for," said he, " per- haps it may be in my power to be of service to you — I don't know that it will, being, as you see, but a poor mil ler, but I will do what I can ; if you will follow my advice, it can do you no harm, and may be of use to you." The elder brother willingly caught at any thing that might give the least prospect of success, and readily promised to adopt any reasonable plan he might propose. " Well, then," says the pretended miller, " when the names of the jury are called over, do you object to one of them, no matter whom . the judge will perhaps ask you what your objections are ; let your reply be, I object to him by the rights of an Eng lishman, without giving my reasons why ; you will then, perhaps, be asked whom you would wish to have in the room of the one you have objected to : should that be the case, I'll take care to be in the way ; you can look round and carelessly mention me. If I am empanneled, although 1 cannot promise, yet I entertain great hopes of being useful to you." The elder brother promised to follow these directions, and shortly after the trial came on, when the names of the jury were calling over, the elder brother, as he had been instructed, objected to one of them. "And pray," says the judge, in an authoritative tone, " why do you object to that gentleman as a juryman ?" " I object to him, my lord, by the rights of an Englishman, without giving you ray reasons why." " And whom." says the judge, " do you 454 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. wish to have in the room of that gentleman V " I would wish to have an honest man, my lord, no matter who ;*" looking round, "suppose yon miller be called." "Very well," says his lordship, " let the miller be sworn/' He was accordingly called down from the gallery, where he had been standing, in view of the elder brother, and em panneled with the rest of the jury. He had not been long in the box, when he observed a little man very busy with the jury, and presently he came to him, and slipped five guineas into his hand, intimating it was a present from the younger brother : and, after his departure, the miller dis- covered, on inquiry of his neighbors, that each of them had received double that sum. He now turned his whole attention to the trial, which appeared to lean decidedly in favor of the younger brother ; the witnesses, having sworn point blank to the death and burial of the elder brother. His lordship proceeded to sum up the evidences, but with- out taking notice of several palpable contradictions which had taken place between the younger brother and his wit- nesses. After having expatiated with perfidy, on every evidence in favor of the younger brother, he concluded ; and the jury being questioned in the usual manner, if they were all agreed, the foreman was about to reply, not ex- pecting any opposition, when the miller stepped forward, caUing out, " No, my lord, we are not all agreed !" " And pray," said his lordship, "what objections have you, old dusty wig?" " I have many objections, my lord • in the first place, all these gentlemen of the jury have received ten broad pieces of gold from the younger brother, and 1 have received but five I" He then proceeded to point out the contradictory evidence which had been adduced, in such a strain of eloquence, that the court was lost in astonish- ment : the judge, at length, unable longer to contain him- self, called out with vehemence, " Who are you ? — where do you come from ? — what is your name ?" To which in- terrogatories the miller replied : " I come from Westmin ster Hall — my name is Matthew Hale — I am Lord Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench : and, feeling, as I do, a thorough conviction of your unworthiness to hold so high a judicial situation from having observed your iniqui- tous and partial proceedings this day, I desire you to come LION HUNT OP THE MALAY STATION. 455 down from that tribunal, which you have so much dis- graced, and I will try this cause myself." Sir Matthew then ascended the bench, in the miller's wig, «fec., had a new jury empanneled — re-examined all the witnesses, proved them to have been suborned ; and circumstances being completely turned, the case was decidedly pronoun ced in favor of the elder brother's rights. LION HUNT OF THE MALAY STATION. The sporting gentlemen were informed, that three lions had been discovered in a small jungle two miles from Beereije. Immediate preparations were made to assemble a large party, and proceed to chase them from thence. Accounts were received that the size and ferocity of the animals had struck a panic into the adjacent village ; that six of the natives, who had unwarily approached their flaunts, had been torn and mangled, &n^ left to expire in the greatest agonies ; and that it was no longer safe for the inhabitants to proceed to the usual occupations of hus- bandry, or to turn out their cattle to pasture, as several ot them had been hunted down and killed. These accounts only stimulated the British Nimrods ; and a party of six- teen gentlemen having assembled, proceeded to the scene of action, accompanied by a company of armed peons from the audulet and revenue departments. The guides took them to the precise spot where three of the royal family were reposing in state. The party advanced with due caution to within a few paces of the jungle, without dis- turbing the residents. At that instant three dogs, which had joined the hunt, unconscious of danger, approached the very threshhold of the presence, and were received with such a sepulchral groan, as for a moment " made the bravest hold his breath." One of the dogs was killed — the other two fled, and were seen no more. Presently, a lioness was indistinctly seen-at the mouth of the den ; a few arrows were discharged, with a view to irritate her ; and to induce her to an attack on her assailants ; but th 5 did not succeed, as she broke cover in an opposite dire^. ion with two cubs, about two thirds grown. 456 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. They pursued the fugitives on foot as fast as the nature of the ground, newly ploughed, would admit ; when, sud- denly one of the men who had been stationed in the trees, called out to the gentlemen to be on their guard. This arrested their progress. They turned on one side, to some heights, when they descried an enormous Hon, which was approaching them, through an open field, at an easy canter and lashing his tail in a style of indescribable grandeur The foremost of the party presented their pieces and fired, just as the animal had cleared at one bound, a chasm which was between them, of twelve feet broad. He was, appa- rently, wounded in the shoulder ; but, nevertheless, sprung on Mr. JVI., whose arm he lacerated dreadfully; but feel- ing, at the same time, a peon's lance, he relinguished his first hold, seized the poor man by the throat, and strangled him before the party dared fire, lest they should kill his victim. He was now at bay, but sheltered in such a man- ner as rendered it difficult to bring him down — when, sud- denly, the man on the look-out gave another alarm, and the party almost immediately perceived a honess, which had broken cover, approaching their rear. The same instant their oars were assailed by the shrieks and yells of men, women, and children, occasioned by the animal crossing the road in the midst of the coolies that were car- rying tiffis to the village. A woman and a child were almost immediately sacrificed to her fury. The woman was literally torn to pieces. This proved not the last calamity of this memorable hunt. The gentlemen, with the peons, left their former enemy to attack the lioness, who threatened the village. The party, from the rapid manner in which the beast was followed, were not able to keep very compact ; and, most unfortunately, four of the collector's peons advanced upon the place where the Honess had lain down. She immediately sprang upon the nearest, and brought him to the ground, and crushed his skull, and tore his face, so that no feature was discernible, and the skin Hterally hung in the wind. A companion, who advanced to his assistance, she seized by the thigh ; the r lan, in the agony of pain, caught the beast by the thro .t, when she quitted his thigh, and fastened on his arms and breast. At this moment the gentlemen advanced THE MAN IN THE BELL. 457 * within fifteen paces, and as she was still standing over her unfortunate victim, lodged twenty balls in her body. She retreated to the hedge, where some more shot terminated nei existence. She had abundance of milk, which, from che novelty, most of the party tasted. Both of the peons lied in a few hours. THE MAN IN THE BELL. In my younger days, bell-ringing was much more m fashion among the young men of Venice, than it "is now. Nobody, I believe, practises it there at present, except the •servants of the church, and the melody has been much in- jured in consequence. Some fifty years ago, about twenty empted, by that strange feeling which calls on a man, whose head is dizzy from standing on the battlement of a lofty castle, to precipitate himself from it, and then death would be instant and tremendous. When I thought of this, I became desperate. I caught the floor with a grasp which drove the blood from my nails, and I yelled with the cry of despair. I called for help, prayed, shouted ; but all the eflR)rts of my voice were, of course, drowned in the bell. As it passed over my mouth, it occasionally echoed my cries, which mixed not with its own sound, but preserved their distinct character. Perhaps this was but fancy. To me, I know, they then sounded as if they were . the shouting, howling, or laughing, of the fiends with which my imagination had peopled the gloomy cave which swung a>ver me. You may accuse me of exaggerating my feelings ; but I do not. Many a scene of dread have I since passed through, but they are nothing to the self-inflicted terrors of this half hour. The ancients have doomed one of the damned, in their Tartarus, to be under a rock which every moment seems to be descending to annihilate him ; and an awfiil punishment it would be. But if to this, you add a clamor as loud as if ten thousand furies were howling THE MAN IN THE BELL. 461 about you — a deafening uproar banishing reason, and •inving you to madness, you nr^ust allow that the bitterness of the pang was rendered more terrible. There is no man, firm as his nerves may be, who could retain his courage in this situation. In twenty minutes the ringing was done. Half of that time passed over me without power of computation — the other half appeared an age. When it ceased, I became gradually more quiet, but a new fear retained me. I knew that five minutes would elapse without ringing, but at the end of that time, the bell would be rung a second time, for five minutes more. I could not calculate time ; a minute and an hour were of equal duration. I feared to rise, lest the five minutes should have elapsed, and the ringing be again commenced ; in which case I should be crushed, before I could escape, agaii.st the wall or frame work of the bell ; I therefore still continued to lie down, cautiously shifting myself, however, with a careful gliding, so that my eye no longer looked into the hollow: thiswas^ of itself, a considerable relief. The cessation of the noise had, in a measure, the effect of stupifying me, for my atten- tion being no longer occupied by the chimeras I had con- jured up, began to flag. All that now distressed me, was the constant expectation of the second ringing, for which, however, I settled myself with a kind of stupid resolution. I closed my eyes, and clenched my teeth as firmly as if they were screwed in a vice. At last the dreaded moment came, and the first swing of the bell extorted a groan from me, as they say the most resolute victim screams at the sight of the rack, to which he is for a second time destined. After this, however, I lay silent and lethargic, without a thought — wrapt in the defensive armor of stupidity, I defied the bell and its intonations. When it ceased, I was roused a little by the hope of escape — I did not, however, decide on this step hastily, but, putting up my hand with the utmost caution, I touched the rim. Though the ring- ing had ceased, it still was tremulous from the sound, and shook under my hand, which instantly recoiled as from an electrio jar. A quarter of an hour probably elapsed, be- fore I again dared to make the experiment, and then I found it at rest. I determined to lose no time, fearing that 39* 402 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES 1 might have lain already too long, and that the bell for evening service w^ould catch me ; this dread stimulated me, and I slipped out with the utmost rapidity, and rose. I stood, I suppose for a minute, looking with silly wonder on the place of my imprisonment, penetrated with joy at escaping ; but then rushed down the stony and irregular stairs with the velocity of lightning, and arrived in the bell-ringer's room. This was the last act I had power to accomplish. I leant against the wall motionless and de- prived of thought, in which posture my companions found me, when in the course of a couple of hours, they returned to their occupation. They were shocked, as well they might, at the figure before them. The vAnd of the bell had excoriated my face, and my dim and stupified eyes were fixed with a lack lustre gaze in my raw eye-lids. My hands were torn and bleeding ; my hair disheveled ; and my clothes tattered. They spoke to me, but I returned no answer ; they shook me, but I remained insensible. They then be- came alarmed, and hastened to remove me. He who had first gone up with me in the forenoon, met them as they carried me through the church-yard, and through him, who was shocked at having, in some measure, occasioned the accident, the cause of my misfortune was discovered. I was put to bed at home, and remained for three days delirious, but gradually recovered my senses. You may be sure the bell formed a prominent topic of my ravings, and if I heard a peal, they were instantly increased to the utmost violence. Even when the delirium abated, my sleep was continually disturbed by imagined ringings, and my dreams were haunted by the fancies which almost maddened me while in the steeple. My friends removed me to a house in the country, which was sufficiently dis- tant from any place of worship, to save me from the ap- prehensions of hearing the church-going bell ; for what Alexander Selkirk, in Cowper's poem, complained of as a misfortune, was then to me as a blessing. Here I recover- ed ; but, even long after recovery, if the gale wafted the notes of a peal towards me, I startled with nervous apprehen sion. I felt a Mahometan hatred to all the bell tribe, and envied the subjects of the commander of the faithful the THE M/ OMAN. 463 sonr»rous voice of their Me zin. Time cured this, as it does the most of our follies ; but, even at the present day, if by chance my nerves be unstrung, some particular tones of tne cathedral bell have power to surprise me into a momentary start. THE MADMAN. I NEVER recur to an incident which occlirred in tae latter year of my college residence, without a feeling of horror, and an involuntary shudder runs through my frame. We were reading hard for the honors of the sen- ior year, a season of anxious interest to the ambitious stu- dent, when Washington Greyling, one of the idols of the class, suddenly lost his reason. He had attracted a great deal of attention in college. At the beginning of the fresh- man year, he appeared among us from some where be- yond the Mississippi, in an extraordinary costume, which might have been the work of a Chickasaw tailor, aided by the superintending taste of some huntsman who remem- bered faintly the outhne of habiliments he had not seen for half a century. He was soon put into the hands of a tailor-proper, and with a facility which belongs to his countrymen, became, in a month, the best dressed man in college, and, at the end of the fiist term, he would have been called a high-bred gentleman, m any court in Europe All were startled at hearing that GreyHng was delirious. He had not been otherwise ill, and had, apparently, in the midst of high health, gone mad, at a moment's warning. The physicians scarce knew how to treat him. The con- finement to which he was at first subjected, however, was thought inexpedient, and he seemed to justify their lenity, by the gentlest behavior when at liberty. He seemed op- pressed by a heart-breaking melancholy. We took our turns in guarding and watching with him, and it was upon my first night of duty, that the incident happened which I have thus endeavored to introduce. It was scarce like a vigil with a sick man, for our pa tient went regularly to bed, and usually slept well. I took 464 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. my " Lucretius" and the " Book of the Martyrs," which was just then my favorite reading, and with hot punch, a cold chicken, books and a fire, I looked forward to it, as merely a studious night ; and, as the wintry wind of Jan- uary rattled in at the old college windows, I thrust my feet into slippers, drew my dressing-gown about me, and congratulated myself on the excessive comfortableness of my position. The Sybarite's bed of roses would have been no temptation. It had snowed all day, but the sun had set with a red rift in the clouds, and the face of the sky was swept in an hour, to the clearness of — I want a comparison — ^your own blue eye, dear Mary I The all-glorious arch" of heaven was a mass of sparkling stars. Greyling slept, and I, wearied of the cold philosophy of the Latin poet, took to my " Book of Martyrs." I read on, and read on. The college clock struck, it seemed to me, the quarters, rather than the hours. Time flew ; it was three. " Horrible ! most horrible 1" I started from my chair with the exclamation, and felt as if my scalp was self- lifted from my head. It was a description, in the harrow- ing faithfulness of the language of olden time, painting almost the articulate groans of an impaled Christian. I clasped the old iron-bound book, and rushed to the window as if my heart was stifling for fresh air. Again at the fire. The large walnut faggots had burnt to a bed of bright coals, and I sat gazing into it, totally un- able to shake off the fearful incubus from my breast. The martyr was there — on the very hearth — with the stakes scornfully crossed in his body; and as the large coals cracked asunder, and revealed the brightness within, I seemed to follow the nerve-rending instrument from hip to shoulder, and suffer with him pang for pang, as if the burning redness were the pools of his fevered blood." "Aha!" It struck on my ear like the cry of an exulting fiend. "Aha!" I shrunk into the chair as the awful cry was repeated, and looked slowly, and with difficult courage, over my shoulder A single fierce eye was fixed upon me from the THE MADMAN. 467 mass of bed-clothes, and, for a moment, the relief from the fear of some supernatural presence, was like water to a parched tongue. I sank back relieved, into the chair. There was a rustling immediately in the bed, and, start- ing again, I found the wild eyes of my patient fixed still steadfastly upon me. He was creeping stealthily out of bed. His bare foot touched the floor, and his toes worked upon it, as if he were feeling its strength, and in a moment he stood upright on his feet, and, with his head forward, and his pale face livid with rage, stepped toward me, I looked to the door. He observed the glance, and, in the next instant, he sprang clear over the bed, turned the key, and dashed it furiously through the window. " Now 1" said he. " Greyling I" I said. I had heard that a calm and fixed gaze would control a madman, and with the most difficult exertion of nerve, I met his lowering eye, and w(- stood looking at each other for a full minute, like men oJ marble. " Why have you left your bed ?" I mildly asked. " To kill you !" was the appalling answer ; and in another moment, the light-stand was swept from between us, and he struck me down with a blow that would have felled a giant. Naked as he was^ I had no hold upon him, even if in muscular strength I had been his match: and with a minute's struggle I yielded, for resistance was vain. His knee was now upon jny breast, and his left hand in my hair, and he seemed, by the tremulousness of his clutch, to be hesitating whether he should dash out my brains on the hearth. 1 could scarce breathe with his weight upon my chest, but I tried, with the broken words I could com- mand, to move his pity. He laughed, as only maniacs can, and placed his hand on my throat. Oh, God! shall I ever forget the fiendish deliberation with which he closed those feverish fingers ? " Greyling ! for God's sake 1 Greyling !" " Die ! curse you 1" In the agonies of suffocation, I stuck out my arm, and almost buried it in the fire upon the hearth. With an ex- piring thought, I grasped a handful of red-hot coals, and i68 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. had just strength sufficient to press them hard against his side. " Thank God !" I exclaimed with my first breath, as my eyes recovered from their sickness, and I looked upon the famiKar objects of my chamber once more. The madman sat crouched like a whipped dog, in the furthest corner of the room, gibbering and moaning, with his hands upon his burnt side. I felt that I had escaped death by a miracle. The door was locked, and, in dread of another attack, [ threw up the broken window, and to my unutterable joy, the figure of a man was visible upon the snow, near the outbuildings of the college. It was a charity student, risen J^efore day to labor in the wood-yard. I shouted to him, and Greyling leaped to his feet. " There is time yet 1" said the madman ; but as he came loward me again, with the same panther-like caution as before, I seized a heavy stone pitcher standing in the window-seat, and hurling it at him with a fortunate force and aim, he fell stunned and bleeding on the fldbr. The door was burst open at the next moment, and calling for assistance, we tied the wild Missourian into his bed, bound up his head and side, and committed him to fresh watchers. * * * * We have killed bears together at a Missouri Salt Lick since then ; but I never see Washington Greyling with the smile off his face, without a disposition to look around for the door. _ SKILL IN ARCHERY MiRACHA, who was the cause of the death of Tamer- lane, his father, succeeded him in the empire of India. All the Rajas were not equally submissive to the son of their vanquisher. The kinor of Cascar took arms against Mu'a- cha, and the evil genius which constantly persecuted the son of Tamerlane, delivered him into the hands of the In- dian king. He was made prisoner in a combat ; but the conqueror made a generous use of his victory He re- SKILL IN ARCHERY. 471 stored his captive to liberty on the sole condition of tht kingdom of Cascar being for the future exempt from tri bute. Miracha, who had as often as seven times expe- rienced fortune adverse to his arms in his wars with the prince, was at last so fortunate as to defeat and take him prisoner in his turn. The Tartar proved that he had less humanity and generosity than the Indian. He kept him prisoner, and put out his eyes. Ingratitude of so deep a die was punished by the very individual who had been the subject of it. He made use of the following artifice : — The Tartars have always had the reputation of being supe- rior in archery, and in darting the javelin, to all other na- tions. The Tartar soldiery were daily accustomed to the exercise of shooting at a mark. Miracha himself excelled in this kind of diversion, and as he fancied'himself unrivaled, he was astonished to learn that the Raja Cascar, blind as he was, could hit a mark with the greatest precision, provided he heard a sound to proceed from the spot at which it was necessary to take aim. The story of this surprising skill of the Raja appeared to the king quite fabulous. He therefore commanded that his prisoner should be brought into his presence, being surrounded at the time by all the officers of his court. A bow and arrow were placed in his hands, and he was ordered to suspend drawing the bow till the word commanding him to do so should be given. The Raja assuming in his misfortunes an air of haughti- ness which became him : " I shall not obey," he said, " in this place, any one but my conqueror ; no other person has a right to command me. As soon as I hear the king's voice, commanding me to let fly the arrow, I shall obey his mandate." Having thus spoken, he placed himself in an attitude to obey the prince, as soon as he should give the word. Miracha then raising his voice, ordered him to let fly the arrow at the spot whence his voice proceeded. At those words the Raja obeyed ; the bow was drawn, and the arrow entered the body of Miracha. He was carried off expiring, and the Raja was ln^wn in pieces by Miracha's guards. Miracha died in the year fourteen hundred and fifty-one, after a reign of forty-six years. 45 2 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. CHARLES HESS. Charles Hess, who attended Major Taliaferro to Washington, a few years since, in the character of inter- preter to a tribe of northwestern Indians, was a remark- able illustration of the superiority of white intellect over aboriginal genius and cunning, when placed on an equal footing in the native haunts, and with the same experience «nd habits as the Indian. Where he came from, or what his parentage was, he had no recollection, having been evidently among the Indians since his infancy. He had a faint recollection of having witnessed the burning of his paternal roof, and the slaughter of his family by a party of Indians ; and as he retained his language and remem- bered his name, he believed himself an American. Hav- ing lived several years a savage, and being many times transferred from one tribe to another, he found himself at last on the Red River of the north, and entered the ser- vice of the North American Fur Company, where his talents and activity soon obtained him a clerkship.* Ac- cording to the custom of the country, he married a Chip- peway squaw, by whom he had several children. In the winter of 1816, Hess was stationed at the Lake of the Woods. An Indian, called Opawgun Mokkeetay, or the Black Pipe, took offence at him, for having refused to give him as much liquor as he desired. Shortly after, Hess had occasion to go on a journey, and employed the Black Pipe as a guide. They traveled together half a day, without suspicion on the part of Hess. As they came to a ravine, the Indian proposed to stop and smoke before crossing it, and the white man cheerfully complied. *' Brother," said Opawgun Mokkeetay, " you have always been very kind to me. The other day you refused to let me make a fool of myself; you were right. I have a fast hold on your heart."f * In the Indian trade, he who is entrusted with an outfit is called a clerk, whether he can read or write, or not. t / have hold on your heart. One of the few figurative expressions the Indians use— meaning, «' I love you." CHARLES HESS. 473 " I am glad," replied Hess, " that you are wise at last j but we have far to go ; let us push on." " Directly," rejoined the other, examining the lock and priming of his gun. " Go on, brother. I will but tie my moccason, and then follow." Hess took up his own piece and crossed the gap ; jusl as he attained the level ground on the other side, he heard the report of an Indian's weapon, and felt his side grazed by a bullet. He turned, and saw that Opawgun Mokkee- tay had taken to his heels as soon as he fired. A ball from the white man's gun overtook him, and he fell. The weapon leveled for the destruction of Hess had been charged with two bullets, and this contrivance to make sure of him, had saved his hfe. The balls had diverged — one grazed his right side, and the other cut his belt in twain on his left. He returned in a few days to his house. Two or three evenings after his return, a cousin of the deceased, by name Squibee, or the Drunkard, entered hia apartment with his gun in his hand, and his face painted black.* He seated himself before the fire without saying a word. Hess saw that he was bent on mischief, and thought it best to temporize. He offered the Drunkard a pipe, which was refused. He then set before him a wooden platter of Jpoiled venison, but he would not taste it. He spoke several times to the savage, but received no answer. Squibee sat sullen and immovable, his eyes steadfastly fixed on the blazing logs before him. At intervals his eyes turned in their sockets, though his head did not move, and he cast furtive and scowling glances around. The engages belonging to the establishment, who were much attached to their principal, looked in ; but when they saw the expression of the Indian's features, they shrunk back, and loaded their guns. After a silence of half an hour, Hess determined to bring matters to an issue. " Nitchie," (i, e. friend,) said he, " what makes your heart sorrowful, and what do you seek in my house ?' " My brother Opawgun Mokkeetay is dead," replied * His face fainted black. A black face signifies grief, or an intentioB of revenge 40* 474 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. the savage. " My eyes are dry, and I want something to make tears come in them." Hess went into his store-house and drew a glass of spirits, which he gave to the Indian. The latter he'd it up between his eyes and the light, and then threw it into the fire. It blazed above the chimney. " Why did you not drink it ?" said Hess. ^i It is not good ; it is no better than water," he replied. " It burned as if it was good," said Hess, still desirous to conciliate him. " I thought it was strong enough ; I vvill get some more." And he went out to do so. Squibee was evidently working himself to the pitch of resolution for some desperate action. He began to ex- amine his gun, and to look uneasily about him. At one moment he seemed to relent. He wiped the smut from one side of his face with the corner of his blanket ; but one of the Canadians happening to look in, he turned away his head. The instant the man withdrew, he scraped some soot from the chimney-back with his fingers, spit upon it, and renewed the color of his visage with the mix- ture. He had scarcely finished, when Hess re-appeared. " Here," said the trader, " is liquor that is strong as fire. Drink." The Indian doggedly put the glass to his lips, took a mouthful, and spit it out again. He threw the remainder into the fire, saying, " Neither is that good. Bring more." Hess turned to obey ; and as he stooped to pass through the door, heard the explosion of Squibee's gun, and saw the splinters fly from the timber over his head. Without testifying any concern, he went out, and was asked by Menard, one of his people, " What is the matter ? Are you hurt, mon bourgeois?" " I believe not," he replied ; " but I have had a narrow escape. I felt the scoundrel's bullet stir in my cap." He took it off, and saw that he had indeed been near death ; the ball had gone through it within an inch of his skull. Without uttering another word, he went into his store, drew a third glass of alcohol, and returned with it to the room where he had left the Indian sitting. He offered hrnti the liquor, saying, " You have been at the fort at the forks of the Assineboin river, and have seen the scales thai CHARLES HESS. 477 aie there used to we'gh furs go up and down. Shall I live ? Shall I die ? Dog I" he continued, his choler rising as he saw that the Indian's countenance did not relax its ferocious expression, "your life is light in the balance. Look at that sun. It is the last time you shall ever look upon it. Drink that liquor ; it is the last you shall ever dnnk." Squibee, as ready to suffer as he had been to inflict ^uifei-ing, took the glass, coolly emptied its contents, and drew his blanket over his head. Hess leveled a pistol and blew out his brains. Menard and other engages rushed into the room at thfi report, with their guns, and discharged them into the bleed- ing body of the Chippeway. " If any harm is come to yoj, mon bourgeois," cried Menard, " we are resolved t© sliare it. If the Indians revenge themselves on you, thej shall kill us also." Some days after, the Drunkard's brothers sent to invite H^ss to a feast in their lodge. The wigwam, like all Chippeway lodges, was made of n,ats of rushes, spread upon a frame of slight poles, of an c/al form: the fire was in the centre, and the smoke escaped through a hole in the top. Hess found the three I rothers of the man whom he had slain, sitting with theii bgs crossed under them ; each had a wooden bowl full 4^f dog's flesh before him. A bear skin to sit upon, and a similar repast, were placed for Hess. The Indians had painted their faces black, and their arms were laid before them. " Sit," said the elder of the brothers, and Hess sat down. The speak- er then produced a red stone pipe, with a stem three feet long, curiously ornamented with eagle feathers, porcupine quills, and human hair, died red, which had been taken from the scalp of a Dahcotah. He filled it with a mis- lure of tobacco and the dried and pulverized inner bark of the red willow ; which compound is called kinnikkinnik, in the Chippeway tongue. He lighted the pipe, took a few whiffs, and passed it to the next, who imitated his exam- ple. When the brethren had smoked, it was handed to Hess, the elder saying, " our brothers whom you have kill- ed, were foolish young men and deserved their fate. We O EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. Know the}' sought it, and that you were blameless in wha» nas happened. If they had followed our advice, ihey would now be alive : but they were fools, and a fool soon comes to his end. We offer you this pipe, and ask you to eat out of the dish before you, in token of amity and assu- rance that no harm shall befall you for what you have been compelled to do." " Brothers," replied Hess, " I am a man. If you had intended me harm, I should not have fallen alone." And be showed the butts of two brace of pistols that he had brought under his garment. " But," he continued, " I am not to blame for what has come to pass. If you wish me to believe your words, or to smoke your pipe, or to par- .ake of your feast, you must first wash the black color of your faces away ; and then I will comply with your invi tation. I am not a woman, nor a child, to believe every bird that sings." The Indians rose, left the lodge, and soon returned with their faces washed. One of them said, " If our faces were black, our hearts were clean. It was not in sign of malice owards you, but of grief for our relations, that we were tainted. Eat, then, and smoke, without doubt or fear." Hess smoked and ate. When he had finished, the elder vidian said, " we hope, brother, that you will give the widows and children of the dead something to cover their nakedness, and to relieve their hunger." And Hess com- plied with the request, for he was a humane man, when left quiet. Whether, if they had not washed their faces, the family would have avenged their slain relatives or not, cannot now be ascertained ; but it is certain that he was never afterwards molested for what he had done. THE CAPTURE OF THE FRIGATE PRESIDENT FROM A SAII.OE'S JOURNAL OF HIS FIRST CETTISE. On the fifteenth of January, 1815, at four bells, m tne forenoon-watch, the boatswain called, " All hands, up an- THE CAPTURE OF THE FRIGATE PRESIDENT. 479 chor," on board the President frigate, Commodore Deca- Tir, then lying in New York harbor, off the Battery. We walked it up in the turning of an hour-glass, and dropped u'own the bay, the wind at nor'-west, and came to an an- chor in the Horse-shoe. Now, it was high water on the bar, at a quarter past nine that evening : but Decatur, for some reason, which nobody ever knew, called, " all hands, up anchor," at fvjur bells in the first dog-watch. As soon as the pilot heard :he order, he went to Decatur ; " Commodore," says he, ' the ship cannot go over the bar till high water." " She must go, sir," says Decatur. That settled the business, and we weighed anchor ; but It blew such a gale o' wind, that the only sail we set, was a double-reefed foretopsail, and so stood out for the Hook. When the ship was about twice her length from the bar, the pilot went to Decatur again. " Commodore Decatur." says he, " the ship cannot go over the bar ; it's an impos- sibility. She'll strike, and thump to pieces." "Well, sir," says Decatur, "if that's the case, let go the anchor." So we let go the larboard-bower, and veered away cable enough to bring her to. The ship swung round by the anchor, and her stern struck on the bar. " Cut away the cable !" says Decatur. We had hemp- cables in those days, and a few blows with an axe cut it away, and we swung round, and struck broadside on the bar, and there she thumped. Then it was, "Down top- gallant and royal yards 1" and, as I was captain of the maintop, I was expected to show a lead. So we lay aloft, but could not get any higher than the tops ; for, when the ship struck, which she did every minute, it was all we could do to hold on, let alone sending down yards, and, for the same reason, the foretopsail had not been furled, and so it was flapping as if it would carry away the yard. So we lay and thumped on the bar till high water, and then she floated. ' Now, sir," says Decatur, to the pilot, " take me b.ack to New York." " It is impossible, sir," says the pilot, " it is blow'.ng a gale o' wind from the northwest, and no ship that ever floated could beat up against it." So there was nothing 480 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURE". to be done but go to sea ; and, as the wind had moae- rated a little, we made sail on her and stood out, and,^a we knew the English fleet was watching for us, we doused every light, except the binnacle-lamps, and kept very still fo*', as it was very dark, we did not know how near we might be to them, and so, with every thing she could stag- ger under, we were off, southeast-by-east. About seven bells, in the mid-watch, a blue light was burnt by the English admiral's ship, and was repeated by all the ships of his squadron, to show him where they were. They were all around us, and, to avoid them, we hauled close on the wind, boarded our larboard-tacks, and stoo(/ in for the Long Island shore. When daylight came, we found that the English fleet was all around us. The Tene- dos, frigate, was on our starboard-bow ; the Pomone, fri- gate, on the larboard-bow ; the Endymion, frigate, right ahead ; the Despatch, brig, clear out to sea, ahead, and the Majestic, seventy-four, astern. We could not stand all that ; so we up helm, and bore away to the southward and east'ard, and setting a foretopmast stu'n -sail, although it blew a gale of wind, we left Johnny Bull to take care of himself ; and, in two hours, the Endymion was the onlj ship within ten miles of us. But then the wind began to lase off", and, though we crowded all sail, the Endymion begun to gain upon us. She was the fastest sailer in the English fleet, and was kept light and in complete sailing trim. She drew her provisions from the other ships, and was, of course, only in ballast ; while we had on board six months and thirteen days' provision, beside stores of all kinds, and were very heavy with shot, and to add to all this weight, we had knocked our false-keel to pieces on the bar; some of it was gone, and the rest stood athwart-ships, and hindered our sailing very much. Well, the Endymion kept on, gaining on us, and came on hand-over-fist ; so, the commodore gave orders to lighten the ship. First and foremost we threw over all the provision, except ten days' allowance, but the wind still easing oflf, the Endymion still gained on us ; so we threw over the boats, spare rigging, and spars, then the anchors, and cutting the cables into lengths of five or six fathopis, so that they would be of no use to any one, we •THE CAPTURE OP THE FRIGATE PRESIDENT. 481 sent them overboard too, and every thing else, except our fighting-traps. In spite of all we could do, the Endymion still gained on us, and it was very plain she would over- take us. So, at six bells, in the afternoon-watch, when she w^as about four miles astern. Commodore Decatur called all hands aft. "Now, my lads," says he, "the Endymion will overtake iis, and we can't help it; bat when she comes alongside, I want you to give her one broaaside, double-shotted, and then every man and boy in the ship must board her ; and we will take her and go off in her, (for she is the fastest ship in the English squadron,) and leave the President where she is. No man must leave the ship till you see me mount the ham- mock-nettings, and then will you follow me V " Ay, ay, sir, we will that," says we, and gave him three cheers. By this time the Endymion was within three miles of us, and, training one of her bow-chasers on us, she let drive ; but the shot fell short, about twice the ship's lentyth ; so we tried her with our stern-chasers, to do her some hurt, if possible, and help us along ; but our shot fell short, too. At two bells, in the first dog-watch, the Endy- mion's shot overreached us, (she was within a mile of us,) and shot told well on both sides ; but the Tonedos and Pomone came up so fast, that we saw we could not get away. " Now, my boys," said Decatur, " we must surrender ; but I want you to unrig the Endymion for me first. Will you do it ?" "Ay, ay, sir," says we, and cheered him again. Just at this minute, a shot from the Endymion carried away our tvheel, and killed the quartermaster-at-the-cun and three men. The ship broached-to, and then the drums beat to quarters; we manned our starboard-batt 3ry, and in seventeen minutes the Endymion was a wreck ; the only spar standing was about eighteen feet of her foremast. All this time, Decatur stood on the spar-deck with hia speaking-trumpet, singing out, "Don't overshot your guns, my brave boys; don't overshot }our guns." He was afraid the guns would burst, as they grew hot, if we over- Bhotted them ; but his advice did no good. We put three round shot into each gun, and as tho Endymica was only 41 482 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. about fifty feet from us, you may know how the shot told. The Endymion, of course, would not strike to us, when the rest of their squadron was so near, and so we continued the battle ; but as it was now too dark to fight by the flag, we set up a light, and they did the same. By this time, the Endymion had dropped astern, but the Tcpedos was on our larboard-bow, and the Ponione on ou5 t .arboard-quarter. " iSow, Commodore Decatur," says Robinson, " I wish you would sink the Tenedos, and then the Majestic wil) sink us, and we'll all go to the bottom together, for our larboard-guns are all shotted, and one broadside will send her straight to the bottom." " No, sir," says Decatur, " I will not throw away the lives of my brave fellows so. Now, go below, my lads, we must surrender ; and you want refreshment : so, go below." We turned-to, and threw all our muskets, pistols, cutlasses, boarding-pikes, and every thing, overboard, and cutting loose both batteries, we went down to the berth- deck, to get something to eat and drink, for we had touched nothing since we left the Hook, and had not slept a minute either. I was going along forrard on the berth-deck, when I stumbled over a dead marine, and as I was getting up, I found two bottles of devilish fine wine, for the commodore had ordered his stores to be given to the sailors, and that was the reason I found this wine knocking about the dfck. Just as I got upon my feet, one of the topmen, named Harry Brown, came along, whose scalp had been torn up by a musket ball, and hung over his face, so that he could not see. So I gave him one bottle of the wine, and it did him a great deal of good ; but he was down-hearted, and iiought he should die ; so he told me to take a large gold chain, which he wore, and give it to his wife, when 1 j?ot home ; and I did so, and kept it, in spite of the English, thieves, and gave it to her according to orders. When we went below, Decatur took his trumpet, and went for- ward to the fo'castle, and standing on the larboard-cathead, he hailed the Tenedos. " 1 have surrendered, sir ;" they pretended not to heai him, and let drive a whole broadside into us. ** I have surrendered, sir " says Decatur, again. THE CAPTURE OP THE FRIGAWE PRESIDENT. 483 «To whom?" says the Tenedcs. « To the squadron, sir," says Decatur ; for he was tot proud to say he had surrendered to any one ship. Bang ! came another broadside from the Tenedos. Now, when they fired this second broadside, the first heutenant, with other officers, and a boat's crffw.had just boarded us from tlie Pomone, which lay on our starboard-quarter, close aboard of us ; and the shot from the Tenedos killed two officers and five men, on board the Pomone. -So the first lieutenant of the Pomone run forrard, and hailed the Tene- dos: " Cease firing, sir 1" says he ; " his Britannic majesty's oflicers are aboard, sir." Then the Tenedos stopped finng, and the Englishmen boarded us by the hundred, and m five minutes there were four hundred of thero aboard, in spite of the tremendous sea, and the gale %7 wind. Then they had their hands full, for all our guns we?& cruis- ing about decks, rolling with the roll of the ship, m every direction. It was as much as a man's life was woYih, to be on our main-gundeck then ; for if a long thirty-two pounder had rolled over a fellow, he would be about used up ; and so the Englishmen danced and swore, a good deal, when they came to secure the batteries again, and wanted us to lend them a hand : but devil the bit would we do, so they had the fun all to themselves. After they iad got every thing snug again, they took half of us, and sent us aboard the Tenedos ; and as it was now near four bells, in the first watch, they stowed us away in the fore- hold, in double-irons, to keep us safe till morning. Then it was, " down all boats, and search for the En dymion ;" for she had dropped so far astern, that they did Hot know where she was, but at last they found her, and towed her up as the wind lulled, and when we were taken out of the hold, in the morning, she was alongside. Well, that afternoon they sent all hands of us aboard ot the Endymion ; and stowed half of us in the fore-hold and the rest on the main-gundeck, amidships, in irons; and, as she had jury-masts rigged, they all bore away for Bermuda. Now, the Endymion was still the fastest ship, m the squadron, and not being very full manned, we agreed to rise and take her, and bear away for some port in the 484 EXPLOA-S AND ADVENTURES. States ; and we had it all arranged, and m three rmnutet more, the ship would have been our own, when the main- iurymast went by the board, and dished all our plans. In a couple of days we made Bermuda, and there we were landed and marched through the town ; and such a set of looking fellows no man effer saw. We had not been shaved for so long a time that we looked like bears; water was no shipmate of ours ; and, as the English thieves had stolen every thing we had, the clothes that we wore were both few and small ; for example, my thumb- nail is as well clothed as we were ; and as we went along with our hands behind our backs, two and two, the boys pelted us with mud, eggs, dead cats, and such like. Then they put us aboard the Ardent, sixty-four, commanded by- a mean old hunks, Sir William Barnaby, or " Captain Bill," as we used to call him ; and we lay in port,, aboard of her, till the peace. The ladies of Bermuda gave us clothing and knickknacks, and tried to make us comfort- able ; but, under " Captain Bill," that was an impossibility. So, when the peace came, they shipped us to New York and we arrived there in June, safe and sound. WONDERFUL PRESERVATION. James Richards lived on a cape. His house, a neat one story building, was situated on the furthermost part of the cape, towards the sea. He was an old sailor, and had followed the sea until he was three score years of age, when he bought this spot and built him a house. It was a dangerous part of the coast ; and this was one great rea- son, he said, why he settled there. " For he meant to keep a bright light burning in the dark night, to light his brother tars on their way." Richards' family consisted of himself, wife, and two sons, the eldest thirty, and the youngest twenty-five years of age. " And smart, active boys, they are too," the old man woald Bay, " as any about these parts." The afternoon of the day on which our story opens, had been lowry, and the appearances betokened a tempest. WONDERFUL PRESERVATION. 485 The two young men had been absent about a week on a fishing cruise. They were, therefore, anxiously looked for all the afternoon by their parents ; more especially, as they had then out-stayed their usual time of absence. As the day wore away, and the appearance of a storm m- creased, the mother's fears arose proportionally ; although the father was too much of a sailor to be frightened, as he expressed himself, at a black cloud. However, as the day drew near its close, and the wind began to increase, tWo old man became uneasy, and his eye was directed oftener than usual, seaward. The sun went down luridly in the west, and the large waves began to heave in their feathery 4ops. The old man left the house and proceeded to the shore. There was a smooth, sandy cove, which made a snug httle harbor : but save this, the cape was lined with high, rugged, and shelving rocks. Mr. Richards seated himself on the highest eminence — Broad Stone, it is called, directly on the pitch of the cape, from whence he could overlook the sea at all points. Here, as he sat gazing off, he would mutter to himself, " I don't like that white streak in the east : it is a weather- lifter, and bodes no good ; and the scud there in the south looks badly, skimming over the water at such a rate. It will be an ugly night this. The plague is m the boys that they don't come home — they ought to know bolter than to be abroad in such weather as this 1" Time and ag.iin as the dusk crept on, he would visit Broad Stone, and throw anxious glances about, in hopes of detecting the ap- pearance of a sail, and then he ^vouli give vent to his spleen for their absenting thems<:./es, in which, however, fear, as could easily be seen, rather .han anger, was pre- aominant. Darkness settled down on earth and ocean ; still nothing met the ey of the anxious watchers, but the dark green waves, rolling turbidly to the shore, with a sullen, fearful murmur. The wind blew furiously, and the rain came with a heavy plash to the earth. As the hour grew late, and the heavy gusts of wind swept by, and Mr. Richards had been once or twice to the shore without any signs of Jheir approach, their anxiety became too great for silence, and impassioned prayers were put up by the mo ther for her sons' safety ; while the father, in a voiccj 486 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. slightly trembling, tried to comfort her, by saying. " feaf not, wife — the boys are strong, and a better boat nevei- swam ; they are well acquainted with the coast. Besides^ God will have them in his keeping, and will not leave u« ciiildless in our old age. Cheer up, and put your trust in Ilim, at whose bidding — ' peace, be still' — the waves can not harm." Ten o'clock came and went by. The boys came not The storm was at its height. After walking the rooif* awhile Mr. Richards asked his wife to prepare a lantern. " I am going," said he, in answer to his wife's inquiries, " to kindle a fire on Broad Stone, if possible. Keep a good heart — trust in God, and all will be well." So say- ing, he left the house. It was but a short time before ho had a bright fire kindled on the Broad Stone, which threw 'ts light far on the troubled waters. " Pray God tlie youngsters may see it !" the old man muttered to himself as he heaped on the brush. " He will not leave me deso- late in my old age ! Take me, Father Almighty," dropping on his knees, and raising his arms on high, in a prayerful attitude — " take me, but spare my children ! take me, who am nothing worth — a worn out hulk; but spare the boys to comfort and support their aged mother !" A hand this moment was laid on his shoulder, and a trembling voice said hastily, "James, James — His will, not ours, be done 1" " Wife, how came you here 1 You should not be out in this tempest" " Hark ! there it is again — I was sure I heard it !" " Heard what ?" said her husband, in astonishment. " Hark— -listen 1" said the woman, pointing her arm seaward. It was but a moment, when a bright flash was seen, and a faint report was borne on the breeze from the seaward. " They are coming — the boys are coming !" burst simul- taneously from the aged pair. " They see the light," said the wife, hurriedly — " let us heap on more wood, James — praise God I" " We have reason to praise Him, wife, and may He who has protected them thus far, restore them to us in safety !" " He will — he will," said the agitated wife, as sha heap- ed a large quantity of brush on the fire. WONDERFUL PRESERVATION. 48^* As the flames shot up in the air, and were curling about in the wind, the old man and his wife seated themselves to await the approaching vessel, that contained all that was dear to ihem. Their eyes were strained towards the cove, in the hope of seeing her in that direction ; but hap- pening to turn their eyes, they saw the little schooner dashing over the waves, right towards the rocky part of the cape. They both uttered a cry of horror. Death, inevitable death, seemed the doom of those on board. Onward she came, now rising high on a towering wave, fluttering on its top like a frightened bird, and now plung- ing down into the gulf of foaming waters, as if to destruc- tion — then slowly rising again, still struggling towards the rock. The aged pair stood for a moment like statues gazing on the scene before them, until the little bark shot into the shade made by the cliff", and was lost to sight. Instead of running frantically about, accomplishing no- thing, as is too often the case in scenes of alarm and dan- ger, the ^^old sailor" was put on. Bidding his wife ad- vance to the edge of the cliff" with the lantern, Mr. Richards, with the speed of one some tvi^o scores of years younger, went to the house, procured a coil of rope, and a fishing line, and was back to the cliff" nearly as soon as his wife. At this place the cliff" rose forty feet, perhaps, above the level of the sea. About two thirds or more of the way down was a shelf, projecting out three or four feet. It was here the boat came ashore. " Husband !" said Mrs, R., wringing her hands in agony " what can be done ? Father in Heaven, couldst thou not have spared them to us ?" " Peace, wife, peace ! — wouldst thou chide thy Maker ? Say not a word, but attend to me ; it is no place to be womanish here. Now, wife, pitch your voice to its shril- lest tone, above that of the wind, and see if the poor boys are alive, to give answer." The woman did as she was bid ; and bending over the cliff", screamed in a high, sharp tone, " John — Samuel ! my children 1" Her voice, rang shrilly above the dash of the waves and the blast of the gale. " Quick, the light — ^there is hope i" said Mr. R. Imm© 488 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. diately ihe lantern was lowered down oy the line, and by its feeble light the oldest son could be seen on the shell' leaning back agaVhSt the jagged rock, Jooking upwards. " There is but one — it is John ! ' said the old man wildly, as he bent in eagerness fearfully over the edge of the cliff. " The rope, wife, the rope !" shouted he. In a second it was lowered down, swayed to and fro by the wind. John was not long in possessing himself of it. But what was the old man's horror, when he saw his son cast off his jacket, and grasping the end of the rope, walked to the edge of the shelf, as if to jump into the waters that foamed at his feet. " What is he doing ? he is leaping into the sea ! merci- ful Parent ! boy, boy, will you leave me childless, in my old age ?" shouted he, in a voice hoarse with emotion, as he saw his son dive into the sea. He stood transfixed with horror. In a few minutes, however, John appeared or the shelf, and made signs for those above to pull the rope. The old man commenced giving directions to his wife to A^atch the motions of John. He soon made signs to stop hauling, and then was seen to hft the apparently lifeless body of his brother on the shelf. After examining the rope, he made signs for them to hoist again. It was a sight to witness that old man, by the uncertain light of the fire, the rain beating upon his gray head, straining himself t? raise the corpse of his own son from the dark depths below : and when the body was raised to the cliff, to see he aged mother clasp it in her arms, and hear her voice, nick with agony — " Samuel, my son, would to God I sould have died for you !" — the wind and the rain the while beating down upon her uncovered head, and fling ing her gray and tangled tresses to the air. The old man's attention was now directed toward res- cuing his other son, who was in imminent danger, as the tide "was setting in, and ere long would probably wash him off, the force of the wind having raised it more than its usual height. He made fast the rope to a neighboring tree, and bending over the cliff, gave directions to his son to avoid the sharp rocks that jutted out, as he attempted the per lous ascent, steadying the rope, and encouraging him the while. WONDERFUL PRESERVATION. 491 " Father, your hand !" said John, breathing thi'^kly, lift- ing his arm to the edge of the clilf, well nigh exhausted. At the moment He uttered these words, the rope, which had worn against t!ie sharp rocks, parted, leaving him dangling over the horrid depth below, holding by one hand to the edge of the cliff, and by the other to the tired arm of his father. " Wife ! wife !" shouted the old man, in a voice hoarse with agony, "leave the dead, and attend to the living." His wife was so absorbed in grief, she paid no attention. " Woman !" shouted he, in a voice of despair, " will ye sacrifice the living to the dead ? Will you see your first born perish ? Quickly, for my strength fails." " What would ye, my husband ?" said she, starting up, and seeing the situation of her husband, stretched on the ground at full length, holding one arm of her son ; she sprung forward, and bending down grasped the other hand, and with almost supernatural strength, by one effort, lifted her son safe on the cliff", and then sunk beside him, with no more strength than a child. She soon recovered, and the excitement of the moment being over, their atten- tion was turned to the younger son, who lay stretched out on the wet ground, without sense or motion, exhibiting a pale and ghastly face, as the light of the fast expiring fire occasionally flashed over it. "Is he-dead, father?" said John, as he gazed wildly in his face. " It was an ugly blow the main boom gave him, as we struck." " Heaven be praised !" said the father, " that we have one left — and thankful I am that the waters did not devour him. Wife, let us be comforted that his grave will be on the land, and that he was not fated to float on the cold caverns of the deep." '• Father — mother !" said John, who had bent beside his orother, " he lives ! I feel his heart beat !" And fruly enough it did beat with returning life, and by midnight they were all gathered, a happy group, in the front room of the cottage, congratulating each other, and thanking God for their safety. * * * * Where stood the humble cottage of James Richards, a ©rUliant light-house now stands — and it is the " best light'* kQ2 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. on the eastern coast, Old John Richards is the keeper of it. Visit him, and he will tell you the story I have related, far better than I have done ; and will shovs^you the graves of his father and mother, and will tell you how he and Sam worked for them and made them comfortable in their old age — how, after they were dead, Sam w€nt to sea, and found, after all, a grave in the " cold caverns of the deep ;" and that he never lights the la nps of the light- house, without thinking how anxiously he watched the fire kindled by his father on " Broad Stone," in the night of the tempest, when he was off in the boat, tumbled about by the waves : and ho\y upon the dark and angry waters, he vowed, if God spared his life, he would consecrate it to him, forever and ever, and try to sin no more — how Sam broke his vow that he made on his knees beside him, at that terrible hour — ever since which, the world went hard with him, until he was punished by a drowning death : of his own vow he speaks not ; but from appearances, he has not forgotten it. BEAR HUNTING IN MAINE. As a man by the name of Bradbury, of Brownfield, was at work with his team in a wood about eighty rods from his house, he discovered a hole under the decayed root of a large tree, which he was induced to examine, from the supposition that it might have been the former resort of some wild beast. After considerable knocking at the en- trance of the den, and finding no one had the politeness to bid him " walk in," he returned to introduce the end of his ox-goad ; upon which a large bear, not so well acquainted with this kind of treatment as Old Buck and Golding, utter- ed a horrid growl and sprang at him ; but failing in her attempts to seize his hand, she retreated to the back part of the cavern, where her voice, united with that of two companions, formed a language not very well calculated to charm the hearer. Mr. B., not to be intimidated by the singular and un- couth noise, and waiting with patience at the mouth of the den till their passion somewhat subsided, then ran n few WASHINGTON AND THE HORSE. 495 rods, picked up his axe, and returned ; and, after spending neai four hours in fruitless exertions to obtain assistance^ he formed the resolution of attempting to dispatch them himself. He accordingly stepped into the entrance of the den, and a second time introduced the end of his ox-goad ; which he had no sooner done, than Bruin, with his two companions, rushed out upon him, when he gave the fore- most one a blow with his axe, which severed his head from his body ; the second was stunned, and the third, which appeared to be the old dam, received a blow that broke her upper jaw, and obliged her to retreat into the den. After dispatching the one which he had already stunned, Mr. B. attempted to force the old dam from her retreat : but not relishing her first interview, she kept her quarters, which compelled him to make an attack in another direction. He consequently stopped the entrance of the den, and then cut a hole through the top, and no sooner was an opening made than she sprang out upon him ; when she received the whole blade of the axe in her head, which was repeated three times before she was brought to the ground. WASHINGTON AND THE HORSE. The following incident is related in Mr. Custis's Recol actions of Washington: " The blooded horse was the Virginia favorite of those days, as well as these. The mother, fond of the animal to which her deceased husband had always been particularly attached, had preserved the race in its greatest purity, and at the time of our story, possessed several young horses of superior promise. " One there was, a sorrel, destined to be famous, (and for much better reason than the horse which a brutal emperor raised to the dignity of consul.) This sorrel was of a fierce and ungovernable nature, and resisted all attempts to subject him to the rein. He had reached his full size and vigor, unconscious of a rider, and ranged as free as air, which he snuflTed in triumph, tossing his mane to the winds, and spurning the earth, in the pride of his freedom. 496 iSXPiOITS AND ADVENTURES. "It was a matter of common remark, that a man never would be found hardy enough to back and ride this vicious horse. Several had essayed, but deterred by the fury of the animal, they had desisted from their attempts ; and the steed remained unbroken. The young Washington proposed to his coi^panions that if they would assist him in confining the steea, so that a bridle could be placed in his mouth, he would engage to tame this terror of the parish. Accordii.gly, early the en- suing morning, the associates decoyed thp horse into an enclosure, where they secured him and forced a bit into .-.s mouth. Bold, vigorous, and young, the daring chief spiang t<> his unenvied seat, and bidding his comrades re- mo^-e iheir tackle, the indignant courser rushed to the plain- " As if disdaining his burden, he at first attempteu itr fly ; but soon felt the power of an arm which could have tamed his Arab grand sires, in wildest course, on their native deserts. The struggle now became terrific to the beholders, who almost wished they had not joined in an enterprise so likely to be fatal to their daring associate. But the youthful hero, that ' spirit-protected man,' clung to the furious steed, till, Centaur like, he appeared to make part of the animal itself Long was the conflict ; and the fears of the associates became more relieved as, with matchless skill, the rider f)reserved his seat, and with matchless force controlled the courser's rage, when the gallant horse, summoning all his power to one mighty effort, reared, and plunged with tremendous violence, burst his noble heart, and died in an instant 1 "The rider, 'alive, unharmed, and without a wound,' M'as joined by the youthful group, and all gazed upon the generous steed, which, now prostrate, ' trailed in dust the honors of his name,' while from his distended nostrils gushed in torrents the life-blood that a moment before had swollen in his veins. " The first surprise was scarcely over, with a ' what's to be done V ' who shall tell this tale V when the party was summoned to the morning's meal. A conversation the most mal-apropos to the youthful culprits, became in- troduced by the matron's asking, ' Pray, young gentlemen, nave you seen my blooded colts in your rambles 1 I hope A MODERN BRUTUS. 499 they are well taken care of: my favorite, I am told, is as large as his sire.' Considerable embarrassment being observable, the lady repealed her question ; when George Washmgton replied, ' Your favorite, the sorrel, is dead, madam.' ' Dead I exclaimed the lady ; why, how hds this happened V Nothing dismayed, the chief continued; ' that sorrel horse has long been considered ungovernable, and beyond the power of man to back or ride him : this morn- mg, aided by my friends, we forced a bit into his mouth— I backed him — I rode him — and in a desperate struggle for the mastery, he fell under me, and died o-n the spot.'° The hectic of a moment was observed to flush upon the matron's cheek ; but, like a summer cloud, it soon passed away, and all was serene and tranquil, when she remarked, ' It is well : but while I regret the loss of my favorite, / rejoice in my son, who always speaks the truth.' " A MODERN BRUTUS. It was in the summer of 1819, that the incident occui- red which I am about to relate, and which agitated all that part of France which was the scene of its enactment. I was studying the antiquities of Rouen, that beautiful city, on which the character of the middle ages is so deeply imprinted. I had already surveyed and admired its won- derful cathedral, its castles, its fountains, and its venerable crosses, when I found myself, one morning, before the hall of justice. Crowds were flocking to it from every quarter, the expression of whose eager faces seemed to announce the expectation of some deeply interesting judicial drama. The doors were not yet opened, and I awaited patiently the moment which should give entrance to the multitude and leave me to the uninterrupted enjoyment of my anti quarian researches, and of the reflections on the past which they should call up in my mind. It came at length, and I was left in solitude. Hours were passed in wandering from one interesting relic to another — examining, verifying, and comparingwecalling the scenes and incidents of ancient days, and contrasting them with what now existed around me ; when my utten- 500 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. lion was awakened by the animated looks and gestures of two advocates, who had halted at the foot of the great staircase, and from time to time directed their eyes to- ward the hall of justice, as if anxiously awaiting the result of some important trial. They approached me, and the loud tone of their conversation made me involuntarily ac- quainted with its subject : it was the judgment of a father, the murderer of his only son. My curiosity was aroused, and, yielding to its impulse, I drew near the speakers, who saluted me with courtesy, and readily obliged me with the following narration. " Arnaud Magnier, who is at this moment under trial, is a retired veteran, whose spirit is as loyal and true to honor, as his temper is quick and violent. He had an only son, a young man of about nineteen, who, inheriting the energetic character, without the rectitude, of his father, early became the slave of corrupt and degrading passions. Frequent complaints had been laid before the old man, of his son's excesses, and more than once he had inflicted upon him severe punishment ; which, so far from working a reformation, only seemed to harden the spirit of the in- corrigible offender. One evening, Magnier received a visit from an old and valued friend, M. Duval, the proprie tor of an extensive manufactory at some distance from the city, who had accepted the invitation of his ancient com- rade, with the intention of returning home at night. " Edward, the son, who had for some time apparently renounced his dissipated and licentious habits, was present, and cheerfully aided his father in fulfilling the duties of hospitality. The cheerful glass and merry jest went round, and the flight of time was unheeded, until at length the eyes of M. Duval chanced to fall upon the mantle- clock, which indicated the hour of eleven : he arose hastilyj and, resisting the entreaties of his friend to pass the re- mainder of the night under his roof, fastened on his belt, from which the clink of gold was distinctly heard, mounted his horse, and set off" for home. " He had proceeded nearly half a mile, and was about entering a little wood, through which the road w^as carried, when suddenly, at the termination of a glade, conspicu- OL^lv lighted by the moonbeams, he saw approaching him^ A MODERN BRUTUS. 60S a man whose face was blackened, and whose movements indicated a hostile purpose. The merchant drew a pistol from his holster, and giving his steed the spur, quickly found himself confronted by the strang^i. "'If you would save your life, give up your purse !' ex- claimed the latter, in a hoarse and apparently assumed voice, presenting a pistol in each hand. M. Duval had his finger upon the trigger of his own, and was on the point of firing, when a sudden thought appeared to strike him, and he dropped his hand. ' My purse !' he replied : ' take it — there it is ;' and he detached his belt, and placed it in the hand of the robber. The unknown turned, and was quickly out of sight; while the merchant resumed his journey, buried in thought, and allowing the bridle to hang !^ose upon the neck of his horse, whose pace gradually dwindled to a walk, without appearing to attract the no tice of the rider. " Thus he continued to proceed for nearly half an hour, when, raising his head, like one who had arrived at a con- clusion, M. Duval suddenly checked his horse, and turning the rein, set off at a full gallop on his way back to the place from whence he had come. He drew up in the suburbs of the city, near the house of his friend, left the horse at an inn, and proceeded to the gate, which opened upon the garden at the back of Magnier's dwelling. He entered, and advancing with cautious steps to the window of the veteran's sleeping apartment, which was upon the ground floor, tapped gently against the glass. The signal was heard, and M. Duval speedily admitted. ' My friend,' said he, to the old man, who was impatient to know the cause of his quick return, ' I have been waylaid and rob- bed — the voice, the figure, and, so far as I could distin- guish them under their disguise, the features of the robber, struck me — they have given rise to a strange thought — I may be deceived, but my conviction is strong, that the honor of your house — ' " ' What dr. your words portend ? For heaven's sake, explain.' " ' Listen — heavy charges are brought against your son —I hope that my suspicions may be wrong — forgive me-— it is my friendship for you ' 504 EXPLOITS AND ADVENTURES. " ' In mercy, speak out at once — what would you say V *' * Alas, my poor friend, J am forced to suspect — r— ' "'Whom? What? That it was Ae?' *•' Calm yourself — let us examine quietly, and, if possi- ble, convince ourselves that it was nothing more than a resemblance.' " ' Come,' exclaimed the old soldier, taking up the lamp, and leading the way to the chamber of his son. They entered cautiously, and found him buried in a profound slumber. The old man, whose hand trembled violently, passed the light before his eyes, to assure' himself that the sleep was real, and then turned to his friend, with a deep sigh, like that of one who is relieved from a terrible sus- pense. The merchant bent down over the sleeper, and doubt and fear again resumed their sway in the mind of the unhappy father, whose eyes roamed fearfully around the apartment — they rested at length with horror upon a blacks ened cloth, a pair of pistols, and the leathern belt which the robber had imperfectly concealed beneath his pillow. " ' Still this proves nothing,' exclaimed the merchant, who shuddered at beholding tTie ghastly workings of the old man's face ; ' besides, 1 was on horseback, and how could he overtake me on foot ?' " ' There is a foot-path that is much shorter,' answered the father, with a dreadful look ; ' and if proof were want- ing, it is here,' he continued, pointing to the shoes and gaiters of the young man, which were covered with damp mud. M. Duval cast down his eyes, without a word. " ' And he sleeps,' the old man muttered, while his eyes glowed with a fearful light ; then, with a desperate hand he grasped one of the pistols, and before the merchant could even move to interrupt his purpose, he lodged its contents in the brmin of his guilty son. " This is the crime upon which the court is now engaged in passing judgment, and it is the result of the trial, that we, and the crowds whom you have seen entering the hall, are so anxiously awaiting." Just then a multitude of people hurried down the stair- case, and amid the confusion of voices that broke upon my ear, I heard frequently repeated the words, " banishment for life." *-.-t». 712 V ,•0' '' * ^'^ :^^,-% -^qX ^ ^^^ '0^ o5 '^^ V ^ > ,^' ^. #'