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TRUTIT

All glorious Truth I thy ra.diant light
Difpels the dark sulphurions gloom of night ;
Firm as a rock that rears its ancient head,
With deep foundation laid on ocean's bed :
Though lightnings flash, though seas and thunders roar,
Thou wilt remain when Time shall be no more.

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HISTORICAL,
POETICAL AND PICTOKIAL
AMERICAI SCENES;

PBINOIPALLT

MORAL AND RELIGflOUS ;

BEIHO A SELECTION OF

INTERESTING INCIDENTS IN AMERICAN EISTORT :

TO WHICH [3 ADDED

By JOHN W BARBER,
(Author of Connecticut and Massachusetts Hist. CollectionsJ
AND ELIZABETH G. BARBER.

NEW HAVEN, CONN :
PUBLISHED BY J. W. & J. BAEBER,
FOE
J. H. BRADLEY.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853,
By JOHN W. BARBER,
In the Clerk's OfEoc cf the District Court for the District of Conn.

Stereotyped by J. H. BENUABI,
New Uavea, Conn.

PREFACE.

The object of this work, is to present to the reader a
series of Historical Incidents in American History, (some
of which may not be generally known,) in an historical,
pictorial, and poetic form. We are aware that the plan
of this work differs from any we have yet seen, but we
flatter ourselves that it will be found interesting and in
structive. In the historical introduction to each ofthe scenes de
scribed, we have aimed at accuracy and simplicity ; in
the lines that follow, there is, of course, latitude given to
introduce moral and religious reflections. Whatever we
have advanced of this nature, we ti-ust will he found
in accordance with the great and vital principles of
Christianity. Instead of glorifying mere military he
roes, as is too often the case among all nations, we
have aimed to give prominence to men who practised
the virtues of Christianity. Such men only are the real
patriots and nobles ofthe human race, and such only are
worthy of lasting remembrance.
In some instances, in the composition of the stanzas,
we have not hesitated to use the language, or mode of
expression used by others, whenever it would forcibly
convey what we wished to present. Simple illustrations

of the great truths of religion and morality have been
aimed at, rather than originality of thought, or ele
gance of diction. As this work is of an historical
nature, it was deemed proper to introduca several
scenes in the Secession War. This war being of ab
sorbing interest at this time, a Chronological Table is
given of the most important events which have taken
place, since the commencement of hostilities.
"Whatever may be thought of this work as a mere
literary production, we have aimed to produce strictly
an A'merican Book, the influence of which, we trust,
will be found on the side of " God and Humanity."
In a former edition of this work a slight historical
sketch was given of the several states. This is
omitted in this edition, and other matter more in ac
cordance wilh original design of the work takes its
place. From the manner in which the first edition
¦was received, we have reason to hope and believe
some part of it, at least, will, in some form, live, after
we, father and daughter, have left these mortal scenes.
J. W. B.
New Haven, Conn. E. G. B.

CONTENTS.

The Pilgrim Fathers, . . 7
Ancient Church of Jamest'n, 10
Pocahontas,  13
The Indian Mother, . . 14
Massasoit,  16
The Grave of Lady Fenwick, 18
First Settlers of Connecticut, 20
Roger Williams, ... 24
The Regicide Judges, . 26
Deliverance of Hadley, . 29
Preservation of Mr.Stoddard, 32
William Penn, . . .34
The Salem Martyrs, . . 36
The Indian Reformer, . 38
Destruction of D'Anville's
Fleet, . . . . 40
Zinzendorf,  42
Rescue of Major Putnara, 46
The True Wife and Mother, 43
The Mother's "Voice, . . 51
Col, Boone's First View of
Kentucky,  54
Anthony Benezet, , . . 56
Founding of Dartmouth
College, . . . , 58

Paga.
Washington's Acknowl
edgment,  60
Gen. Reed refasing the
Bribe,  62
Passing the Delaware, , . 64
Washington at Morristown, 67
Funeral of Gen. Frazer, . 69
Count Donop, .... 72
Death of Baron DeKalb, . 75
Moravian Indian Martyrs, 77
Prince Gallitzin, ... 80
Council of the Mohawk
Women,  82
Campbell's Grave, ... 85
The Western Missionary, 88
Perilous Passage on the Lakes,90
Shenandoa, the Oneida Chief, 93
First Born of the Reserve, 96
Han Yerry,  98
The Indian Blessing on
New Jersey, .... 100
The Mother Perishing -with
Cold,  102
Church in the Wilderness, 104
Thanksgiving, .... 106

VI.

CONTENTS.

DlSOOVKEIES AND SETTLE
MENTS,  103
War of the Revolution, 113
One of Many, .... 117
IltTERESTING EvENTS, Alf-
¦nQtiiTiEs, (fee, , , , 121
Round Tower at Newport, 121
Mortal sickness among
the Indians, , , , , 123
Pequot Expedition, , , 125
Death of Marquette, , , 127
Firat Settlers of Granville, 129
Attack on Brookfield, , 132
Destruction of Schenectady, 134
Escape of the Dustan
Family,  136
Burial of Mr, Treat, . , 138
Swedish Church at Wil
mington,  140
Church of the Blind
Preacher,  142
The New Haven Spectre
Ship,  145

Burial of De Soto, . . 148
Chief Justice Marshall, , 150
Dr, Franklin and the Pic
ture of the Crucifixion. 152
Baron Steuben and Lieut.
Gibbons,  154
The Faithful Indian Mes
senger, . .... 156
Gen. Herkimer, . . . 158
Red Jacket,  160
Two Honest Men, ... 162
Death of Lieut Woodward
— Oregon, . . . . 165
Tecumseh,  168
" Our Father," .... 171
The Union and the Con
federate Soldier, . . 173
Death of Gen. Mitchell, . 175
Iron clad Monitor, . . . 177
Soldier's last Letter, . . 179
Cheonologioal Table, . 181

Zjfmiing «/ the Fathers at Plymouth,

THE PILGRIM FATHERS.
The Colony at Plymouth, Mass., was the first permanent Eu
ropean settleraent in New England. It was planted principally
for the sake of the free and undisturbed enjoyment of religious
liberty. Being persecuted in England, their native country, they
went to Holland in 1608, where they remained till they sailed
for America. Having procurred two small ships, they departed
from Leyden, after having kept a day of fasting and prayer, with
Mr. Robinson, their pastor, for God to direct them on their way.
They proceeded to Plymouth, Eng., one of their ships being con
demned, the other, called the May Floicer, crowded with passen
gers, about one hundred in number, put to sea, September 6th.
After a long and dangerous passage, they arrived at Cape Cod,
November 9th. After exploring the country, they finally landed
at a place theycalled Plymouth, on the 22d of December, 1620.
The anniversary of their landing is celebrated by their descendants
as a religious festivaL

Dabk was the day with storms ! Old oceain rolled
in foam, and dashed its madd'ning billows on the
shore. Deep moaned the ancient forests to the

8
wintry winds. Their naked limbs they stretch
towards heaven and shiver in the northern blast.
The green earth, seared by frosts, is stiff with ice,
and white with snow.
In by-gone years these western shores were one
vast wild. The ravening beast, or man more
savage still, roamed in the forest shade and on the
misty hill.  A snow white sail is seen
towards the rising sun. A feeble band is on the
rolling surge. Westward the dove-like sail pursues
its way. 'Tis like the star of heaven amid the
shadowy clouds, the harbinger of day.
A germ of mighty Empire moves within that
fragile bark. The noblest born of earth are there ;
the men of soul who go where duty leads, against
a world in arms. Dauntless in Freedom's holy
cause, their eye on heaven, they quail not 'neath
a tyrants' power The mighty God alone they fear,
and him they love.
They near the icy shore. No rolling drum, nor
thundering cannon speak them near. Angelic spirits
hover round, and guard their onward way. The
ocean Eagle soared above the foaming waves
to see a sight so strange. The stormy sea in its
far distant roar, gave forth its note of joy. The
gently waving pine, with its soft, solemn music, vast
and deep, murmured a pleasant welcome.
Amid the forest gloom, far from their father land,
they stand undaunted. The sea bird's scream, the
wolf howl, and the yells of savage men around are
heard. In God's Great Teraple, in the open air,
they call on Hira they love, to guard them frora the
dangers pressing nigh. Their prayer is heard.
They raise their notes of joy. Their music sweet,
is borne by winds along, and the wild woods repeat
their hymn of praise !

9
No glittering raines of gold allured them to this
distant shore. They sought their wealth above,
and " Freedom to worship God " on earth. No
warrior's crown, nor Fame's loud trumpet blast,
impeUed them onw-ard. They sought a brighter,
yea, a holier, heavenly crown of life, undimraed by
tears and blood. They sought their honor from
above, utisoUed, and lasting as eternal years.
The times of old have rolled away ! the ashes
of the Pilgrims rest beneath the soil they trod.
Their spirit lives and broods around. Their sons
StUl westward press their way. The forests dark
and wild, still fall before them. The yellow grain,
waving in summer glow, and golden corn ripening
in the autumnal sun, stands thick around. The
heaven- ward pointing village spire is seen on hill
and dale. The Star of Empire rises in the mighty
West! Green is the earth o'er the Pilgrim graves, but
greener and brighter grows their fame. The hate
of despots can not blast, nor purblind bigot zeal
tarnish the brightness of their honored names.
Their record is secure on high : an adamantine
tower resting on ocean's bed, 'gainst which the an
gry surges roar, and foam, and dash in vain !
In Freedom's holy cause, our Fathers sufl^ered,
toiled, and died. The story spreads and widens with
advancing years. In regions yet unknown, where
the wild Indian roams, their names will yet be
known, and their example tell on generations yet
unborn. A mighty host shall yet arise towards the
setting sim, on to the broad Paciflc sea, who will
with thrilling accents celebrate that day when the
lone Pilgrim band first trod the ice-bound shore !
J. w. B.

10

Ruins of the Church at Jamestown.
ANCIENT CHURCH AT JAMESTOWN.
Jamestown, in ¦Virginia, the first permanent British settlement
in North America, was founded hy Capt. John Smith and his
companions. May 13th, 1607. The only vestiges of this ancient
town are the remains of the church steeple or tower, about thirty
feet in height, and a disordered group of tomb stones. The
precise date when this church was erected can not now be ascer
tained, but it is supposed to have been nearly two hundred and
forty years since. This place has been the scene of many
interesting events in the early history of 'Virginia.

Olu church ! beside thy ruined walls
The same bright waters flow.
And still the golden sunlight falls
On thee, as long ago.
When first amid the solemn wood.
Thy walls in stately beauty stood.

11
But thou art crumbling to decay,
This moss grown arch alone
Tells of the centui-ies passed away,
The generations flown ;
The " dark brown years" with storm and blast,
And withering blight, have o'er thee passed.
Where roams the dusky chieftain now ?
Where blaze the council fires ;
And where the race of paler brow,
Virginia's noble sires ?
The groups who filled yon house of prayer ?
Echo repeats, and answers " Where 1"
Lone relic of a by-gone age ;
The traveler seems to see
The story traced on History's page,
Revived again by thee :
The by-gone years return once more,
When first the white man trod the shore.
The gallant ship again has sped.
Her course the ocean o'er ;
The snowy sails once more are spread
By old Powhatan's shore ;
He seems to see its gallant band
Tread the fair soil of this new land.
He seems to see the group that bowed,
Old church, to worship here ;
The stately forms of rulers proud,

12
The gallant cavalier ;
The flower of England's chivalry,
Youth, beauty, age and infancy.
Here Pocahontas kneels again
To take the holy vow ;
And here Powhatan with his train
Of warriors mingles now ;
And gallant Rolfe, here claims his bride,
The Indian Princess by his side.
Old church, the Fathers long have slept,
They moulder now with thee ;
Above thine ancient walls have swept
The waves of Time's broad sea ;
Of spire and aisle and arch bereft,
But little now of thee is left.
So earth at last must pass away,
Each stately tower and dome ;
Its castles proud, its ruins gray ;
All fi-ail as ocean's foam.
Swept on by Time's resistless sea,
And lost in vast eternity.
But humble hearts that gathered here,
Shall rise in that great day.
When the Almighty shall appear.
And earth shall pass away ;
Above the mighty wreck shall soar
To live when " time shall be no more."

E. G B.

13
POCAHONTAS
In the preceding stanzas, the marriage of Pocahontas
with Mr. Rolfe is introduced. The following account
of this Indian princess, is frora Allen's American Bio
graphical Dictionary.
" Pocahontas, daughter of Powhattan, emperor of the Indians
of Virginia, n-as born about the year 1595. When Captain Smith
was taken prisoner in 1607, and it was determined that he should
be put to death, his head was placed upon two large stones at the
feet of Powhattan, that a number of Indians, who stood ready with
lifted clubs, might beat out his brains. At this moment, Pocahon
tas rushed to the spot and placed her own head upon his. From
regard to his daughter, the savage king spared his life. In 1609,
when but fourteen years of age, she went to Jamestown, in a dreary
night, and unfolded to Captain Smith a plot, which the Indians had
formed for the extermination of the English, and thus at the hazard
of her life saved them from destruction. In 1612, after Captain
Smith left the colony, she was, for a bribe of a copper kettle, be
trayed into the hands of Captain Argal, and detained a prisoner,
that better terras of peace might be made with her father. He
offered five hundred bushels of com for his daughter, but before
this negotiation was completed, a different and more interesting
one had commenced. A mutual attachment had sprung up be
tween her and Mr. Thomas Rolfe, an Englishman of good charac
ter, and with the consent of Powhattan they were raarried. This
event restored peace, and secured it for many years. Pocahonta.i
soon made a profession of Christianity and was baptized. In 161C
she accorapanied her husband to England, where she was received
with distinction at court. It is said, that king James expressed
great indignation, that one of his subjects would dare to marry
into a royal family. As she -was about to embark for Virginia, in
1617, she died at Gravesend, aged about twenty- two years. She
is represented as a pious Christian. She left one son, Thomas
Rolfe ; and from his daughter descended some of the most respec
table families in Virginia." 2

14

THE INDIAN MOTHER.
Pammehanuit, an Indian of distinction, with his wife on Mar
tha's Vineyard, having lost five children within ten days of their
birth, had a sixth child born about the year 1638, a few years be
fore the English first settled on the Island. The mother, greatly
distressed with-fear that she should lose this child also, and utterly
despairing of all human help, took up her little son, and went into
the fields to weep, alone. While here, it waa powerfiilly im
pressed upon her mind, that there is one Great Almighty Being,
who was to be prayed to for help. She accordingly called on
this God for mercy, and dedicated her child to him. It lived, and
afterwards became an eminent minister of Christ to the Indians.

The Indian Mother mourns her children gone,
For one by one, to fell disease a prey ;
Quickly they faded in life's earliest morn,
And only one is left to cheer her way.
She looks upon her child : must he too leave
Her lonely home for yonder spirit land ?

15
Must she be left alone on earth to grieve.
Bereft of all her smiling household band ?
Is there no help 1 her anxious heart inquires :
In vain the Jndian Powaw tries his skill :
No savage rite his demon God inspires,
The mother's heart is sad and cheerless still.
Despairingly she wanders with her boy,
Through lonely fields, in sorrow and forlorn,
'When suddenly a blessed gleam of joy
Breaks on her darkened soul like rays of morn.
" Oh yes ! there must be one who rules above,
The Great Good Spirit yet unknown to me,
The Lord of all, a God of boundless love.
The mighty maker of the earth and sea.
He made the sun to rise from ocean's bed.
And sink behind the western hiUs at night :
He makes the moon her silver light to shed.
The twinkling stars to shine with radiance bright.
By him the earth in summer verdure glows,
The forest boughs with smiling green are spread :
The yellow com in plenty he bestows.
He guards his chosen ones and gives them bread.
He feeds the little birds that skim the air,
The fishes gliding through the limpid -wuve :
His goodness and his love are every where,
On him I call, for he alone can save.
True faith was this, of that untutored mind,
Though long in darkness she had blindly trod,
The child she freely thus to Heaven resigned,
Was spared to be a servant of his God.

16

MASSASOIT, THE INDIAN SACHEM.
In 1623, Massasoit, the Indian Prince of Sachem, ofthe Mas
sachusetts Indians, being sick, the Governor of Plymouth Colony
sent Edward Winslow and Jonn Hambden to make him a visit.
They arrived at the Sachem's house about midnight, and found
him surrounded by his people, using their charms and incantations,
with hideous noises, in order for his recovery. He was so far ex
hausted that his sight was gone, but on being informed that two of
his English friends had come, he desired to speak with Mr. Wins
low, regretting that he could never see him more. Mr. Winslow
then carefully administered cordials which he had brought with
him, which operated kindly, and soon restored his sight and
strength. Upon his recovery he said, " Now I know the English
are my friends and love me, and I shall never forget their kind
ness." In gratitude to his English friends, he disclosed a plot
which the Indians had formed to destroy them. This timely no
tice probably saved the colony from destruction.

Stretched on a bed of pain, the Sachem lay,
Great Massasoit, to fell disease a prey.

17
Darkness broods round ! his soul is filled with fears.
Save ! Great Spirit save ! for death appears.
With savage rites, his tribe a clamorous crowd.
Have gathered rotmd with innovations loud ;
Louder, and louder rose the horrid strain,
The chieftain suffers still, and all is vain.
" His eyes are dim, no more will he behold
The king of day, with beams of brightest gold :
The silver moon, the lake, the rock-bound shore,
The smiling woodland, he will see no more.
No longer shall he seek the forest shade,
Or hunt the deer within the greenwood glade ;
In love he ruled the warriors of his race.
But death is near ! who ? who shall flll hia place ?"
So spake his people, as they gathered round
To see him die ; but hark ! what sudden sound
Of unexpected joy is heard this hour ?
Rejoice ! the white men come -with healing power.
They come in mercy, and with skillftil hand.
Beside the chieftain's couch, the travelers stand;
With soothing care the fell disease is stayed.
And gratefully, the chieftain owns their aid.
" The white men are my friends, they love me well !
In peace and love we will together dwell "
No more will we against the white man plot,
His deed of kindness, shall not be forgot."
The vow was kept, and as the years rolled round.
In Massasoit a faithful friend they found ;
He ne'er forgot the white man's kindly deed.
The aid they gave him in his hour of need.
2*

MonuTnent of Lad-y Fenwick, Saybrook, Conn.
THE GRAVE OF LADY FENWICK,
At the mouth of Connecticut River, about forty rods south of
the remains of Saybrook Fort, is a sort of tabular monument
erected over the remains of Lady Anne Bolder or Butler, the
wife of Col, Fenwick, the commander of the fort at Saybrook
Point, This lady was the daughter of an English nobleman,
and consequently tetained her maiden name. She accompanied
her husband into this then wilderness, and lived in a rude fort,
surrounded by hostile savages. She died in 1648, and was buried
on a small elevation called " Tomb Hill," near the water. Her
husband afterwards returned to England, and was appointed one
of the Judges for the trial of Charles I.
" The dark brown years have passed over it : she sleeps alone, far from
the land of her Fathers, • at the noise of the sounding surge!* Her tomb
is seen by the mariner, as he passes by on the dark rolling sea !" Ossian.
Not in a sunny vale
That blooms in beauty in her native isle.
Not in the heart of some secluded dale,
Where the blue skies with gentle radiance smile.

19
Not in some stately pile.
Or gorgeous vault beneath her castle home ;
Not in the Abbey's dim and shadowy aisle.
Where anthems peal through fi-etted arch and dome.
No ! they have made her grave
Afar, alone ! beside the rolling surge.
Where ocean birds their dusky pinions lave,
And foaming billows sound her ceaseless dirge !
Far out upon the wave
Where the wild breezes fill the snowy sail.
The hardy mariner makes her lonely grave.
And hears her requiem in the stormy gale.
Far from her native land.
Like some fair flower, she slowly'drooped and died.
The fairest, frailest, 'mid the Pilgrim band,
The gentle daughter of a house of pride.
What though no costly shrine
Her hallowed dust with stately pomp should grace.
The daughter of a long ancestral line.
Has won a holier, nobler resting place. »>-¦-
For lofty hearts and true.
Their holiest tribute to her memory paid ;
Hands strong, the spii-its high commands to do,
'Mid prayers and tears her resting place have made.
There let her calmly sleep,
Where the dark wave her ceaseless requiem sighs,
TiU the last Trump shaU break that slumber deep,
And she with myriad hosts of earth shall rise !
B. O. B.

20

Mr. Booker and Ms Congregatim passing through the WUdemtSB.
FIRST SETTLERS OF CONNECTICUT.
About the beginning of June, 1636, the Rev. Messrs. Hooker
and Stone, with their congregation of about one hundred men,
women and children, took their departure from Cambridge, near
Boston, Mass., and traveled more than two hundred miles,
througii a trackless wilderness, to Hartford, Conn. They had
no guide but their compass, and made their way over mountains,
through swamps, thickets and rivers, which were passed with great
difiiculty. They had no cover but the heavens, nor any lodgings
but those that simple nature afforded them. Mrs. Hooker, being
feeble, was carried upon a horse litter ; the company were nearly
a fortnight upon their joumey. " This adventure was the more
reraarkable, as many of this company were persons of figure,
who had lived in England, in honor, aiBuence and delicacy, and
were entire strangers to fatigue and danger." " The forest
through which they passed, for the first time resounded with the
praises of God ; the Indians following them in silent admiration,"
Bekeath the deep and verdant shade,
Amid a new found land,

21

Through forests wild, the wand'rers strayed,
A Pilgrim exile band.
The magic needle for their guide.
The changeless Polar star.
They wandered on, through paths untried.
To seek a home afar.
And manhood's stately form was there,
Fair childhood with its glee,
4.nd tottering age with hoary hair.
And smUing infancy.
And gentle woman with her smile.
Cheered danger's darkest hour.
Who blooraed of old in Britain's isle.
Of princely haUs the flower.
And one, a suffering one and meek.
They bore o'er hill and dale.
While o'er her pale and sunken cheek
Swept evening's chilling gale.
O'er rock and hiU, by stream and glade.
Through arches deep and high.
Where gorgeous hues of forest shade,
First met their wondering eye.
The forest monarchs stood in bands.
The stately oak and pine,
And spread abroad their leafy hands.
Like priests at nature's shrine.

22
And there, like incense, softly rose
The strains of prayer and praise,
And broke the Sabbath like repose
With soft harraonious lays.
And oft as evening's purple shade
Was lost in twilight dim.
Together in the forest glade
They sang their evening hymn.
And when the rosy raorning woke
The Pilgrira's song of praise.
There on the Indian's ear first broke.
In sweet harraonious lays.
And here the child of dusky brow,
Who long in darkness trod.
First learned in humble faith to bow.
And seek the Pilgrim's God.
Fair native land ! what led them thence.
The dazzling lure of gold ?
The thrilling tales of eloquence.
That Poet lips have told 1
Nay !. one whose name to song is dear.
Through many a land abroad.
Hath told what turned their footsteps here,
" Freedom to worship God ,'" E. G.

23
Thomas Hooker, the first minister in the colony of
Connecticut, was born in Leicestershire, England, in
1586, and was educated at Emanuel College, Cambridge.
After preaching for some time in London and Chelmes-
ford, he was silenced for his non-conformity. He came
to New England in 1633, in company with Mr. Cotton
and Mr. Stone. He had great influence in establishing
the order of the churches in Connecticut. He was re
markable in his manner of preaching. With a loud
voice, an expressive countenance, and a most comraand
ing presence, he preached with a zeal and energy sel
dom equaled. He appeared with such majesty in the
pulpit, that it was pleasantly said of him that " he could
put a king in his pocket." He died of an epidemic fe
ver, July 7th, 164'7. As he lay on his death bed, one
of his weeping fiiends said to him, " Sir, you are going
lo receive the reward of all your labors." "Brother,"
he replied, " I am going to receive mercy."
SA,M:irEL Stone, the teacher ofthe church at Hartford,
and colleague to Mr. Hooker, was born at Hartford,
England, and died July 20th, 1663. " While he was
regarded as one ofthe most accurate and acute disputants
of his day, he was also celebrated for his wit and humor.
Dr. Mather says of him, ' He was an extraordinary per
son at an argument ; and as clear and smart a disputant,
as most that ever lived in the world." The followiuE
inscription is on the monument erected to his memory
at Hartford. " New England's glory and her radiant crowne.
Was he who now in softest bed of downe.
Til glorious resurrection mome appeare
Doth safely, sweetly sleep in Jesus here,
Tis known beyond compare he did excell ;
Errors corrupt by sinewous dispute
He oppugne and clearly them confute ;
Above all things he Christ his Lord prefer'd
Hartford, thy richest jewel's here inter'd."

24

ROGER WILLIAMS.

Roger Williams, the founder of Rhode Island, was one of the
early Puritan ministers who carae over to New England. As
some of his religious sentiments differed fi-om most of those by
whom he was surrounded, and as he refused to cease preaching to
them, he was banished from the colony. In the depth of winter,
in 1636, he was obliged to leave his family in Salem, Mass., and
return into ihe wilderness of Rhode Island, where he might enjoy
religious freedom unmolested. Here he fixed upon a spot, which
in grateful remembrance of" God's merciful providence to him in
his distress," gave the name of Pkovidence. His memory is de
serving of lasting honor for the liberty and generous toleration
'^^'hich he gave " to all sorts of consciences," and for his kindness
and benevolence to the native Indians, and all others with whom
he was connected,
Williams, a name to human freedom dear.
True noble of the human race :
Firm in the truth of God, he feels no fear.
Though danger stares him in the face.

25
Freedom to think, to act, and worship God,
The great Creator gives to man :
Frail man would o'er his brother hold the rod,
And tell him where to pray, and when.
" Freedom to worship God," for this to gain,
WQliams retires into the wilderness ;
'Mid wintry snows he feels that God is near.
To kindly cheer him and to bless.
That God who kindly fed in times of old,
By ravens, in the desert wild and wide.
Doth keep his servant in these western wilds,
And aU his wants are weU supplied.
He buUds his cottage in a lonely place,
Trusting in God for his defence ;
Religious freedom kindly gives to aU,
And founds his city Providence.
From Persecution's fierce and cruel power,
A place of Refuge here is found :
To worship God as conscience prompts the soul :
Oh caU it " high and holy ground !"
Oh haste the hour, when persecuting men
No more shall curse the earth abroad.
When bigot fire and flames, no more consume
The servants of the li-ving God.
Great Power above 1 oh give us all to feel
Thee still our Father and our Guide ;
Be thou our Light through this dark wUderness,
For aU is dark and drear beside.
3

26

The Judges Cave, New Haven.
THE REGICIDE JUDGES.
On the restoration of monarchy in England, the Judges who
condemned King Charles I. to death, were obhged to flee the
kingdom to save their lives. General Goffe and Whalley, two of
the judges, made their escape to New England in 1660, but were
compelled to live in great secrecy to prevent being apprehended
by the King's commissioners. Sometimes they were hid in cel
lars, by the colonists who secretly befriended them, other times
they would resort to the woods, caves, and other hiding places.
They concealed themselves for a while, in a kind of a cave or ap
erture beneath some detached rocks near the suramit of West
Rock, about two miles from New Haven, Conn. This place is
now called the Judges Cave, and on one ofthe rocks is inscribed
" Opposition to Tyrants is obedience to God." If tradition be
correct, their remains now rest near those of Col. Dixwell, back of
the Center Church, in New Haven.
On the mountain, stem and high.
Bleak and lonely lies the cave.
Giant rocks around it lie.
Forest trees around it wave.

27
And the river far below.
Narrowed to a silver thread.
And the fields in summei-'s glow.
Far before the eye are spread.
While the city's distant spires.
And the blue and rolling bay,
Glisten in the crimson fires.
Kindled at the close of day.
Many a score of years ago.
Wilder scenes then met the eye.
Of the two who looked below.
From their rocky fortress high.
Lonely was the view, and wUd,
And the exile's cave was bleak,
Rocks by Nature rudely piled
Forraed the home, they came to seek.
Wintry winds came howling by.
Storms would in their midst intrude,
And the panther's gleaming eye,
Loedted upon their solimde.
Outcaets from their place of birth.
Like the holy men of old !
In the dens and caves of earth.
Parched with thirst, and chilled by cold.
Nobles of the Pilgrim race.
Fame like theirs will ne'er decay :
Still is seen their hiding place.
But the exiles, where are they 1
Still tbe Pilgrim's burial ground.
Keeps their ashes in its trust.
Hoary age, the spot has crowned
Earth to earth ! and dust to dust !
Earth shall keep their precept still,
" That to brave the tyrant's rod.
With a firm unfettered will.
Is obedience to God."

28
One ofthe Regicides, Col. John Dixwell, resided in New Ha-
»en. Conn., for a long period, under the assumed name of James
Davids. He was married in ih;s place, and left a wife and two
children. At his death, he discovered his true character to the
people. Fearing his enemies might dishonor his ashes, he re
quested that only a plain stone might be erected, inscribed with
his initials, J. D., Esq., with his age and time of his death. Af
ter a lapse ot one hundred and sixiy-one years, on Nov. 22, 1849,
his remains were disinterred by his relatives, and re-committed to
the earth, back of the Center Church, standing on the public square
or green. A tasteful and durable monument is placed over hia
reiuains. The inscription on the east side, is as follows, viz.

John Dixwell, a zealou.s patriot — a sincere christian,
an honest man, he was faithful lo duty through good and
through evil report, and having lost fortune, position and
home in the cause of his country, and of human rights,
found sheller and sympathy here, araong the fathers of
New England. His descendants have erected this mon
ument as a tribute of respect to his memory, and as a
grateful record ofthe generous protection extended to him,
by the early inhabitants of New Haven. Erected, A, D.
1849.
Inscription on the west side :
Here rest the remains of John Dixwell, Esq., ofthe Pri
ory of Folkestone, in the county of Kent, England, of a
faraily long prominent in Kent, and Warwickshire, and
himself possessing large estates, and rouch influence in
his country ; he espoused the popular cause in the revela
tion of 1640. Between 1640 and 1660, he was colonel
in the army, an active member of four parliaments, thrice
in the council of state, and one of the high court which
tried and condemned King Chorles the First. At the
restoration of the monarchy, he was compeUed to leave
his country ; and after a brief residence in Germany,
came to New Haven, and here lived in seclusion, but en
joying the esteem and fiiendship of the most worthy cit»
i2;eD3, till bis death in 1683-^3.

29

Gen. Goffe repulsing- the Indians.
DELIVERANCE OF HADLEY.
When Gen. Goffe, one of the judges of King Charles I, was
secreted in Hadley, Mass., in September, 1675, the Indians at
tacked the town, while the inhabitants were at public worship.
The men iramediately took to their arms, but were soon thrown
into the utmost confusion, till Goffe, entirely unknown to them,
white with age, of a commanding and venerable aspect, and in
an unusual dress, suddenly appeared among thera, encouraged the
affrighted inhabitants, put himself at their head, and by his mili
tary skill, led them on to an immediate victory. After the dis
persion ofthe enemy, he instantly disappeared. The wondering
inhabitants, alike ignorant whence he came, and where he had
retired, imagined him to be an angel, sent for their deliverance.
Hark ! hark ! the watchman's thrilling cry.
Falls wildly on the ear ;
To arms ! forth to the conflict fly !
To arms ! the foe is near.
3*

30
Pale grew the tender mother's cheek,
As silently she pressed,
With feelings woi-ds might never speak,
Her loved ones to her breast.
Now louder rose the savage yell.
The echoing woods along ;
These rav'ning wolves, who, who can queU ?
For they are fierce and strong.
Unused to mortal, savage strife.
Pale grew the Pilgrim's brow :
Disordered now he strives for life.
Oh ! who shall save him now !
The man of God has bowed him there,
His flock around him press ;
Wilt thou not hear thy servant's prayer,
While in this wilderness ?
" Save us, O God ! our Father, save,"
Was now the fervent cry ;
" No other refuge now we have.
Swift to our rescue fly !"
The prayer is heard ! a form is seen
Amid the frighted band.
Firm as a rock, bold and serene,
With flashing sword in hand !
His waving locks are snowy white.
Made venerable by time ;
And yet his eye is keen and bright
As that of manhood's prime.

31
" Courage ! cheer up ! ye pilgrim band!"
His tones are loud and clear.
Like one accustomed to comraand.
He stands unflinching here.
" Stand here ! stand there ! and thus control
These furious men of blood :"
Unwonted courage nerves the soul
Of him who trusts in God.
" Our leader bold ! he's from above.
He bears a charraed life,"
So spake the soul that saw him move.
Unharmed amid the strife.
Awed by his mien of majesty,
The lightning of his eye ;
The foe fall back in wild dismay.
They shrink, they run, they fly !
The strife is o'er ! the battle plain
The Pilgrim band has won ;
But wonderingly, they look in vain
For him who led them on.
Mysteriously the stranger came.
As strange his flight had been ;
None knew his story or his name.
Amid these wondering men :
But deemed him as an angel sent.
For their deliverance given ;
While many a prayer that evening went
From thankfiil hearts to heaven.

32

PRESERVATION OF MR. STODDARD.
Solomon Stoddard was for a long period the minister of the
Gospel at Northarapton, Mass., where he died in 1729, in the
86th year of his age. He " possessed probably more infiuence
than any other clergyman in the province, during a period of
thirty years. Here he was reg.-irded with a reverence which will
be scarcely rendered to any other man. The very savages are
said to have felt towards him a peculiar awe." It is said that
once when he was passing from Northarapton to Hatfield, a
Frenchman, or Canadian Indian, in ambush, pointed his gun at
him, but was warned by the Indians not to fire, because that raan
" was Englishman's God." He was also preserved, it is said, in a
similar manner, while meditating in an orchard back ofthe church
in Deerfield, on a sermon he was about to preach.
Unharmed where foes in ambush lay.
The man of God passed by,
Though danger frowned upon his way,
And sudden death was nigh.

33
For twice the foe with murderous aim
His heart a mark had made.
And twice the musket's fatal flame
The Indian's hand had stayed.
" The white man's God, thou shalt not harm,"
The dusky warrior cried ;
His gi-asp was on his comrade's arm,
His musket turned aside.
What wondrous power is this, that charmed
The savage Indian so?
That thus the man of God, unharmed,
ShotUd pass a lurking foe ?
Oh anxious hearts ! foreboding ill !
In this a lesson read ;
God's love, a shield is round you still.
Where duty's path shaU lead.
His presence like a wall of fire,
Will circle round your way ;
With awe the fiercest heart inspire.
And hate's feU weapon stay.
Oh timid hearts ! oh anxious souls !
This lesson keep in view ;
He who the threatened ill controls,
WiU he not care for you 1
Then on ! where duty's path shaU lead.
Away with doubt and fear!
Stand at your post ! your hour of need
Shall find a guardian near. E. 8, B,

31

WILLIAM PENN.
William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, came over to
America in 1682, with a colony of Friends or Quakers. He en
deavored to plant and sustain his infant colony, on the principles
of Christian Love. He gave free toleration to all religious sects,
purchased his land honestly of the Indians, and treated them
kindly : and it is said that in their wars with the whites, they
never killed a Quaker, knowing him to be such. He founded
his capital, which he called Philadelphia, or seat of brotherly love.
William Penn was the son of an Admiral in the English navy,
who persecuted himon account of his religious sentiments. He
also was imprisoned for the same cause, and suffered much in his
attempts to do good to others.
Moved by the love of God and man, he turned,
A friend indeed from childhoods stately home.
To mingle with the few, whora pride had spurn'd.
Afar araid the western wilds to roam.
A father's angry frown he heeded not —
The world's cold taunts ; the flattering voice of Fame ;
But with a humble sect, he cast his lot.
And meekly bore his Master's cross of shame.

35
He might have won amid his rative land,
A place where dazzling glories gleaming shone ;
He might have swayed the sceptre of coraraand.
With favored nobles near a kingly throne.
But loftier aspirations filled his mind,
To found an Erapire where sweet peace should reign ;
Friends, native land, he cheerfully resigned.
And sought a place beyond the rolling main.
Unarmed except by Love, in danger's hour.
He raoved midst savage men ; his power they feel ;
All conquering Love ! more mighty in thy power,
Thau thundering cannon, or the glittering steel.
Like coals of fire, it melts the stubborn will :
Those who had lurked like tigers for their prey,
With fell design, with murderous aim to kill.
Those Sdvage foemen quailed, and owned thy sway.
And he who wears the garb of Love may stand,
Firra as if circled by a wall of fire !
Hate will not lift 'gainst hira the raurderous brand.
And kindled flames of fell revenge expire !
Immortal Penn ! what though a crowd unkind.
Heaped cruel insult on thine honored name.
E'en prison walls could not suffice to bind
The noble spirit, fearless still of shame.
Immortal Penn ! thou hast not lived in vain.
Thy bright example still shall brightly shine.
And numerous voices here, and o'er the raain.
With deathless laurels shall thy name entwine.
And thou, blest Love ! descended from atove.
Myriads of voices yet shall pierce the skies.
Shall sing the raighty truth, that God is Love I
And many a Fhiladelphia, yet shall rise.

36

THE SALEM MARTYRS,

In 1692, occurred one of the raost surprising and afflicting
scenes ever witnessed in New England, from the supposed preva
lence of wilchcraft. At this period, many learned and eminent
men in England and America, fully believed in the existence of
Ihis crime. The exciteraent coraraenced in Salera and its -vicin
ity. About one hundred persons were accused ; about fifty con
fessed themselves guilty. Those who confessed themselves guilty
of this crime, appear to have done it in order to save their lives,
as they afterwards declared theraselves innocent. Twenty per
sons were executed for practicing witchcraft, most of whom ex
hibited a forcible exaraple ofthe strength of moral principle. It
appears that if they would only confess the crime like the others,
their lives raight have been spared. But these martyrs, (as they
may be truly called,) rather than confess •A'hat they knew to be
untrue, nobly preferred to suffer death.
When the wild storm so strange, burst o'er the land,
Dark was the hour, strong was the spell.

37
When high and low, to false accusers gave
The hearing ear, to slanders fell.
Oh sacred love of truth divine ! for thee.
Many the martyr's path have trod.
Though fire and shameful death their lot would be,
If they spoke truth before their God.
True sons and daughters of the Pilgrim race,
Their honor from above they seek ;
Their Hfe with all its charms they freely give.
Rather than lying words to speak.
Their friends with tears come round, and urge them on
To save their lives ; this, this they press,
Oh own what weak and frenzied men have said.
And live your fellow men to bless.
No, no ! these hero-martyrs firm replied.
Death in its shameful form we brave :
Nought but the simple truth shall pass our lips,
We can not lie our lives to save.
Oh blessed power that nerves the Christian soul j
His strength he feels is from on high :
Rather than in the least to swerve from truth,
He'U give up aU, and nobly die.
Then cease to sneer, nor raise the foolish laugh,
At weakness here, wherever found ;
How few in this dark world, can pierce beyondj
Be-wildering mists that float around.
But look with triumph on these noble souls,
Who duty's path have nobly trod :
For truth, like those of old, they gave up life,.
True martyrs ofthe living God. Jv w. ¦.
4

38

THE INDIAN REFORMER.
Is the year 1745, the devoted missionary, David Brainerd, la
bored among the Indians in Pennsylvania. When at a conside
rable distance from the English settlements, he met with an Indian
reformer, who, though dressed with bear skins, in a most wild
and fantastic manner, with a rattle in his hand, was evidently
sincere and honest in his way. Notwithstanding his outward
appearance, there was much in his character which appeared
christian-tike. He said that he formerly lived like the rest of the
Indians, but Ood had changed his mind and shown him what he
should do. Since that time he had tried to serve him, and he
loved all mankind as he never did before. He was derided by
most of the Indians as a precise zealot. He opposed their drink
ing strong drink (or fire water) with all his power, and when at
any time he could not prevent it, would go weeping to the woods.

In every, clime in this dark world abroad,
God can the thickest clouds dispel :
His being to the weakest mind can show.
By many signs infallible.

39
Oh let us not, the mercy of our God,
Confine to our own sect or place :
He is the Lord of all, of high and low.
Father of all the human race.
The Indian wild in the far lonely wood.
Feels the ¦" Great Spirit " ever near ;
His voice within he bears, and upward looks.
And calls on God, and God will bear.
This sura of heavenly truth, that " God is Love,"
On Pagan hearts this Light of day.
Pours forth new light I new Love inspires his soul.
And baleful passions die away !
He meekly strives his brethren to reclaim.
From the destructive power of sin.
To drink no more the fiery, maddening draught.
But strive to have all peace wilhin.
But if they were to his entreaties deaf.
His sou! was pained, his tears they fell ;
Into the forest depths he took his way.
Before the Lord his griefs to tell.
What though his sacredotal robes may seem.
Uncouth and barbarous to our sight.
Oh judge him not severe ! he fancies thus.
This mode of dress, he thinks it right.
Ha paler brother too, has modes and forms,
oif priestly dress ; in various ways.
Attracts the notice of his fellow men.
As fancy, or ae fashion ewaye.
With equal eye, tbe Father of us all.
Whether in skins or silks we dress.
He sees us all ! he knows our thoughts and aims.
With pity sees our weaknesses.
Throughout all time and place, lie that performs
The works of love and righteousness ;
God will accept, though lame his creed,
The upright man will surely bless. X.

40

DESTRUCTION OF D'ANVILLE'S FLEET.

In 1746, a powerfiil fleet from France, under the command ot
Doke D'Anville, consisting of about forty ships of war besides
transports, sailed to ravage and destroy the English settlements,
on the American coast. The consternation was great among the
eolonies, especially when they learnt that no fleet had sailed from
the mother country in quest of the French. But a kind Provi
dence appeared for their deliverance. A most remarkable series
of disasters pursued the French. The Duke D'Anville died in ^
Hudden and unexpected manner ; his successor, in a fit of delirium,
killed himself The fleet sustained much damage by storms, and
great loss by shipwrecks. In addition to this, a mortal sickness
prevailed, and swept off a large portion ofthe troops, and the re-
xruiinder soon after embarked for France. Such an instance of
preservation, without the aid of huraan power, seldom occurs;
and the pious people of that time, ascribed their deliverance to
that Being, who caused the Assyrian monarch to retum to hia
own country, without so much as shooting an arrow against Je-
roealeoi.

41
The darkening clouds of war are gathering fast.
The foe draws near with towering pride.
Threatening our land with fiery 'vengeance storm,
And desolation &r and wide.
In proud array the hostile fleet of France,
Are marshaled for the onset dread ;
A powerfiil force urged on by sweUing saUs,
By noble, warlike Captains led.
God of our Fathers ! kindly save us now.
Oh shield us by thy mighty power ;
Oh Father, hear us in our deep distress,
And save us in this trying hour.
Thine ancient people, when the mighty hosts
By proud Senacherib were led,
Their prayers they raised to thee : in one short night,
Thy power did lay them helpless, dead.
Our father's prayers were heard : sickness prevails ;
Death thins the ranks ; o'erpowers the foe ;
The frowning heavens above are dark with storms.
The foaming biUows rage below.
By stormy winds dismantled, and o'er-powered.
The mighty ships are sunk like lead :
Amid the waste of waters wide around,
The foe lies low among the de.id.
Disease and flood, and stormy winds, and death,
FulfiU the wiU ofthe Most High :
Strong is the power that kindly guards all those,
That on the mighty God rely.
4* J. W. Bt

42

'"V^C'jr .-Jt

ZINZENDORF, THE MORAVIAN MISSIONARY.
Ib 1742, Count Zinzendorf, the celebrated Moravian mission
ary, went araong the Shawnee Indians, in the Wyoraing valley
in Pennsylvania. Unable to appreciate the pure motives of his
mission, they suspected him of being a spy, or a land speculator in
disguise, and accordingly they sent some of their number to kill
him. Zinzendorf had kindled a fire in his tent, and was deeply
engaged in writing and meditation when the Indians stole upon
him, to execute their bloody commission. Warmed by the fire,
a large rattle snake crept forth, and glided harmlessly over the legs
of the holy man unperceived by him. The Indians, however,
were at this very moment looking stealthily into the tent and aaw
the movement of the serpent. Awed by this scene, they desisted
from their bloody purpose ; they soon retired, and informed their
countrymen that the Great Spirit protected this whitr man, and
ibey dared not raise their bands against him.
Alone ! and far from childhood's home.
He crossed the storray sea to roam.
An exile, in the forest wild.
To seek and save frail nature's child ;
The dusky Indian who hath made.
His home within the green wood shade.

43
Sweet love T O Charity divine !
What wondrous mighty power is thine !
Which thus the ties of nature rends.
And severs country, kindred, friends.
And ills to share, all perils brave,
A fallen sinful race to save.
Count Zinzendorf, of noble race,
Like him of Patmos finds a place.
To hold communion sweet, on high.
Where heavenly visions meet the eye ;
To write : and to the churches tell.
Though dark around, yet all is well.
Upward he looks I his spirit flies.
To far off bowers of Paradise,
To meet with spirits of the just.
Made perfect in their love and trust ;
Unmoved he sits, serene his brow.
What angel guards his musings now 1
For see ! what danger now betides !
A horrid serpent o'er him glides :
Calmly he sits, unconscious still
Of aught that now raay threaten ill ;
The poisonous reptile all disarmed.
Creeps on, and leaves him quite unharmed.
He rests ! while savage foes draw near.
Amazed they stand in wondrous fear :
What potent spell, what magic charm
Can shield the pale faced man frora harm ?
Some mighty power to them unknown.
Must guard tbis stranger when alone.
He sleeps ! but sleep like his, may speak
A lesson words are all too weak
To tell ; the white man's God hath power
To shield his servant at this hour ;
That he whom Israel's Watchman keeps.
Through threatened ills, untroubled sleeps.

44
MORAVIANS.
The United Brethren, or Moravians, of wholtn Connt
Zinzendorf was a distinguished member, derive their or.
igin from the Greek Church, in the 9th century. The
society, as at present, was placed on a permanent foim-
dation in 1722, by the Count, who gave the perse-juted
brethren in Moravia, a place of refuge on his estates in
Saxony. Zinzendorf, having adopted the sentiments of
the Brethren, was consecrated one of'their Bishops, and
from thenceforward devoted his life to the cause.
Under the guidance of the Count, certain article? of
union were agreed to, which embraced only the great
truths of Scripture. Individuals of all Protestant denom
inations, consequently have always been freely admitted
into their communities without renouncing their pecuUar
creeds. Discussions respecting controverted points are
avoided, but they make the merits of Christ their princi
pal theme, and hope of salvation.
The Brethren early turned their attention to this coun
try, in order to introduce Christianity among the Indians.
In 1741, they settled near the forks of the Delaware, in
Pennsylvania. Count Zinzendorf, then on his mission
ary tour in America, visited this place on Christmas in
that year, and lodged in a log-house, attached to which
was a stable. From this circumstance the name of
Bethlehem was given to the settlement.
" No people have probably done so much in the cause of mis
sions, in proportion to their means, as the Moravians. The suf
ferings and devotedness of their missionaries have been great.
They have oftentimes gone forth, single-handed and unknown,
among the slave population in the West Indies, the degraded and
filthy Greenlanders, and the savages of our own country. In some
instances ten, in others near fifty years have elapsed, ere they saw
any fruit ; yet they continued to labor, fiill of faith, and struggling
against misrepresentation, sufferuig, and loss of life."

43
Bethlehem, the largest town of Moravians in this
country, is about 48 miles north of Philadelphia, and
contains about 1600 inhabitants, mostly of German de
scent The town is beautifully situated, and is celebra
ted for its neat and orderly appearance. The foUowing,
respecting their religious customs, &c., is from a recent
publication. As usual among the Germans,- great attention is paid to music ;
almost every dwelUng has its piano,%and it forms one of the most
interesting features of their public worship. Before the Lord's
supper, they have a love feast, when all asserable expressly to listen
to vocal and instrumental music, interspersed with hymns, in which
the congregation join, while they partake of a cup of coffee, tea, or
chocolate, and light cakes, in token of fellowship and brotherly
union. Easter morning is devoted to a solemnity of a peculiar
kind. At sunrise the congregation assemble in the graveyard ; a
service, accorapanied by music, is celebrated, expressive of the joy-
fiil hopes of immortality and resurrection, and a solemn commem-
raoration of those who, in the course of the last year, have gone to
heaven. Soon as a person dies, the event is announced by solemn instru
mental music, from a band stationed in the church tower. Differ
ent tunes are played, signifying the age, sex, and condition of the
deceased ; so it is then usually known who is dead. These death
hymns, sounding, as they often do, upon the still morning or eve
ning air, must have a singularly melancholy effect upon the hearer,
reminding him that he too is mortal. Their funeral services are
, usually performed in church ; from thence the congregation march
to the grave, preceded by a band of music. If the deceased is a
female, the ladies follow first after the coffin ; if a male, the re
verse. They consider death as no evil, but the entrance to eternal
bliss, and therefore do not mourn for friends, nor wear insignia of
grief. In alluding to the departed, they use the expression, " helm
gehen," signifying that they have gone home. The graveyard,
like most of this denomination, is laid out as a garden, and planted
with trees, under which are seats for visitors. The graves are de
void of the disagredSble coffin-like shape of our own ; but resemble
flower beds, and in many cases are covered with myrtle and other
ornamental plants. The monuments are email slabs laid horizon
tally upon the graves, the inscriptions uppermost, and bearing sim
ply the name, age, and place of decease.

46

RESCUE OF MAJOR PUTNAM.
In 1758, Major Putnam, when near Fort Edward, during the
war with the French and Indians, was taken prisoner by the
latter. They deterrained to roast him alive. Accordingly they
stripped him, bound him to a tree, and piled up dry brush and
other fiiel in a circle around hira, which they set on fire. A sud
den shower damped the rising flame, StiU they strove to kindle
it, until at last the blaze ran fiercely round the circle. The sava
ges yelled in triumph, and Putnam fully believed that his final hour
had now corae. He suramoned all his resolution, and composed
his mind as far as he could, to bid farewell lo all he held most
dear. The bitterness of an agonizing death wan in a manner past,
and nature was quitting her last hold on life, when a French oflS-
cer rushed through the crowd, opened a way by scattering the
buming brands, and severely reprimanded the savages. This
was Molang, ihe commanding officer, who, having received in
formation of what was going on, rushed to the relief of Putnam,
and at the last moment saved his Ufe.
A FEAEFtTL sight now rises to the view.
In the dark northern forests wild ;
Putnam the brave is seized, condemned to death.
Fast bound amid the blazing pile.

47
The scorching fire begins to rise ;
Loud sounds the savage demon yell :
The suffering victim looks for help above.
From foes the children dire of hell I
Oh Father help him in this trying hour ;
Help him ! he calls on thy great narae :
The prayer is kindly heard, a sudden shower
Puts out the kindling, rising flame.
With fell revenge and hate, the savage crew
Kindle again the raging fire ;
Prepare a feast of death, and see once more,
A victim brave, in flames expire.
The savage yells in horrid triumph rise.
Like demons mad, they dance around ;
The crackling, roaring flaraes now mount on high.
The death-song swells with fearful sound.
My hour is come I I shall behold no more
My loved ones, and ray partner dear I
Perish I must ! within this scorching flame :
No human help doth now appear.
Yet Father thou canst save ! when all below
Is darkness to the human eye ;
Yet Father to thy stem decree I bow.
Submissive at thy feet I lie.
That raan is blessed, who puts his trust in thee.
Who lives, or dies at home, abroad :
Strong is the power that kindly guards him round.
Strong is his. helper. Father, God !
A voice is heard ! a noble form appears,
Molang, the generous Frenchman, braves.
Drives back the wretches with indignant frown,
Scatters the fire, the victim saves.
Oh noble thus ! our enemies to love.
Kindly assist them in distress ;
And him who reigns above, the Lord of all,
The merciful will surely bless.

48

THE TRUE WIFE AND MOTHER.
In 1764, Col. Boquet, having conquered the Indians in the vi
cinity of Carlisle, Pennsylvania, compelled them to sue for peace.
One of the conditions of peace was, that the Indians should de
liver up all the women and children whom they had taken into
captivity. Many of these had learned the language oftheir cap
tors, adopted their habits, and were bound to them by ties of affec
tion. The separation between the Indians and their prisoners
was heart-rending. Some afterwards made their escape, and re
turned to the Indians. One fiemale, who had been captured at
the age of fourteen, had become the wife of an Indian Chief, and
mother of several children. When informed that she was to be
delivered to her parents, her grief could not be alleviated. " Can
I," said she, "enter into my parents dwelling? Will they be
kind to my children t Will my old companions associate with
the wife of an Indian 1 And my husband, who has been so kind
— 1 will not desert him !" That night she fled to the camp of
her husband and children.

Strange is the forest scene,
\. sorrowing group is there ;

49
The Indian with his dusky brow.
And woman pale and fair.
The parting hour has come,
And tearfully they stand ;
WhUe friends their long lost kindred claim,
Amid that forest band.
" Back to the white man's care,
The captives we restore ;
But to the Indian's homes and hearts,
They wUl retum no more.
Mother, and wife, and maid,
From hiU, and streara, and dell ;
And from your homes beneath the shade.
Ye go : fareweU ! fareweU !"
These mournful words are heard.
Sad as a fiineral knell ;
And the proud Indian's bitter tears,
FaU with the word, fareweU !
Hark ! for 'tis woman speaks,
The Mother and the wife :
Hear ! for her kindred bid her rend
The ties more dear than life.
" They bid me seek again.
The home of childhood's years ;
But oh ! its fitr off beauty shines.
But dimly through my tears.
A dearer home is mine,
Within the green wood glade ;
5

60
There dweUs my love, my chUdren play,
Beneath its leafy shade.
My chUdren ! bom and reared
Amid the forest wild ;
¦WiU not the white man proudly spurn,
The Indian's dusky child ?
And those I loved of old,
My friends in years gone by,
WiU they not mark the Indian's wife
With cold averted eye ?
And he I loved so well.
That heart so kind and true ;
Can ye give back such love as his,
Which I resign for you ?
And shall I leave him 1 No !
I leave the white man's care ;
Back to the forest's depths I go.
My home and heart are there.
Yes I for a mother's love,
No laws of caste can bind ;
And only in one faithful heart,
Tbe -wife her home may find.
So woman's love wHl shine.
Alike through good or ill,
In palace haU, or forest shade.
Pure and unchanging still. E. 0. B.

51

V .A A«_

THE MOTHER'S VOICE.
In 1764, Col. Boquet of Pennsylvania, having defeated the In
dians, compelled them to sue for peace. One of the conditions
¦jpon which peace was granted, was that the Indians should re
store all the women and children they had taken captive from
the white settlements. Many had been seized when very young,
forgot their own language, and grew up to maturity, in the wig
wams of the savages, adopting their manners and customs. A
great number of the restored prisoners were brought to Carlisle,
— many a mother found a lost child, but others could not desig
nate their children. Among these, was an aged woman, whose
child, little girl, had been tsken from her several years before ;
but was unable to recognize her daughter, or converse with the
released captives. With a breaking heart, she lamented to Col.
Boquet her hapless lot. The Colonel requested her to sing a
hymn which she used to sing to her daughter when a little child.
This was no sooner complied with, than the long-lost daughter
rushed into ihe arms of her mother.
In strange fantastic dress arrayed.
The rescued captives stand.

52
With warriors ofthe forest shade
Amid the little band.
Of friends that here their kindred claim.
Repeating each familiar name.

And here the mother seeks with tears.
Her loved, her long lost child.
So changed by lapse of weary years,
From the young face that smiled.
Upon her in her childish glee.
In days of helpless infancy.

Dark was the storm of war that swept
The peaceful country o'er ;
When friends and kindred sadly wept,
For those they saw no more :
And many a mother mourned her chUd
Borne captive to some foi-est wild.

What tone, that long lost child shall reach,
What voice her tale impart ?
She knoweth not her loved one's speech ;
And with a heavy heart.
She looks from face to face with tears.
To seek the one, long lost for years.

Is there no dear familiar word.
Which on her ear should break ?
Is there no lay in childhood heard
Sweet memory's chords to -wake,
To free that spirit from its spell ?
The soldier bade the mother telL

53

She sings the song of other days,
The hymn so sweet and mild ,
One ofthe simple cradle lays.
She sang her infant child.
And learned that loved one's childish tone.
To mingle sweetly with her own.
A mother's voice ! what magic art
It hath to touch the soul ;
It enters in the inmost heart,
Its passions to control :
That voice that lulled the babe to rest,
In slumber on a mother's breast.
A mother's voice, it teUs of love.
Such as few hearts may know,
Such as the angels feel above.
For those they guard below ;
A love the world can never chill.
Pure, undefiled, and changeless still.
Oh blessed voice ' oh long lost strain
Thy tone has p. erced one ear !
The daughter echoes back again,
The song to ma nory dear :
She rushes to her r lother's breast !
A mother's heart n ust think the rest !
5 ¦ E. e. B.

54

COL. BOONE'S FIRST VIEW OF KENTUCKY.
In 1769, Col. Daniel Boone, and a few others from Virginia,
raade an exploring expedition into the wilderness westward.
After a long fatiguing march over a mountainous region, they
came to the top of an eminence, from whence, with joy and won
der, they discovered the level and beautiful landscape of Ken
tucky. " Here," says Col. Boone, " nature was a series of won
ders, and a fund of delight. Here she displayed her ingenuity
and industry, in a variety of flowers and fruits beautifully colored,
elegantly shaped, and charmingly flavored : and we were diverted
with numberless animals, presenting theraselvee perpetually to
our view. The buffaloes were more nuraerous than cattle on
other settleraents — their numbers were amazing."
Fair was the scene that lay,
Before the little band.
Which paused upon its toilsome way,
To view this new found land.

Field, stream, and valley spread,
Far as the eye could gaze.

55
With Summer's beauty o'er them shed.
And sunlight's brightest rays.
Flowers ofthe fairest dyes.
Trees clothed in richest green ;
And brightly smiled the deep blue skies.
O'er this enchanting scene.
Such was Kentucky then.
With wild luxuriance blest ;
Where no invading hand had been :
The garden ofthe West.
Such raust have seemed the land,
Columbus found of old ;
Whose beauties lay on every hand,
Whose charms were never told.
So to the Christian's eyes.
The land of proraise seems :
So many a fairy vision lies.
Before our gaze in dreams.
Kentucky ! years have passed
Since first they pressed the sod ;
Another race its lot has, cast.
Where once the Indian trod.
Fair as thou wert of old.
The patriot's cause be thine,
Thy sons for Liberty be bold.
For Freedom's rights divine. E. G. B.

56

Benezet instructing colored children.
ANTHONY BENEZET.
This celebrated philanthropist was a native of France. On
account of religious persecution in that country, his parents, in
1731, removed to London. While here, the faraily adopted the
religious opinions ofthe Society of Friends, and in 17.'U, emigra
ted to Philadelphia. In his zeal to do good, he left a profitable
mercantile business, and devoted hiraself to the instruction of
youth. He was a friend to the poor .-md distressed of every de
scription, and labored most earnestly for their relief and welfare.
He made great exertions to have the slave trade suppressed. The
unfortunate and degraded situation of the African race in thia
country, deeply moved his sympathy, and he made strong efforts
for their elevation and improvement. The loss of this benevolent
man was deeply felt, and his funeral was attended by all religious
denominations. Many hundred colored persons, with tears, fol
lowed his remains to the grave. An American officer of the
Revolutionary army, in returning from the funeral, pronounced a
striking eulogium upon him. " 1 would rather," said he, " be
Anthony Benezet, in that coffin, than the great Washington with
all bis honors."

67
Servant of God ! thy work is done.
No raore thy thoughts employ
On earth below : the victory's won !
" Enter tby master's joy."
Like him thy suffering bosom heaved.
Thy tears like rain-drops flowed.
For suffering, fallen, wretched man.
Thy soul with mercy glowed.
Long didst thou meekly strive and toil.
To raise an injured race.
And give them hope 'mid keen despair.
And beings lost erabrace.
The widow and the fatherless.
With sighs and tears deplore.
This benefactor of our race
On earth, they see no more.
Oh, sainted one ! in this dark world
Too few like thee are seen ;
" Like angel heavenly visitants.
Too few and far between."
No hollow, false, deceitful tears,
O'er Benezet are shed.
Thy meraory will live above.
When earth gives up its dead.
No rattling drara, no volley loud.
Speaking of war's dread trade ;
No gaudy banners proudly wave.
Where thy remains are laid :
Oh no I angelic hosts attend.
Thy spirit to convey.
From these dark bewildering scenes.
To endless, perfect day.
Kind heaven doth guard thy sleeping dust.
Though scattered round, abroad ;
Thy spirit sweetly rests within
The bosom of thy God !

58

FOUNDING OF DARTMOUTH COLLEGE
In 1770, Dr. Wheelock removed from Connecticut, his family
and school to Hanover, New Harapshire, and laid the foundation
of Dartmouth College at that place. The roads at that period,
being rough and unfinished, the pupils performed the journey on
foot. The site selected for the college and other buildings, was
an extensive plain, shaded with lofty pines, with no accommoda
tions except two or three log huts. A college and other buildings
were erected and partially finished before the autumnal snows
set in. In the ensuing winter, the snow lay four feet in depth,
between four and five months. " Sometimes standing in the
open air, at the head of his numerous family. Dr. Wheelock pre
sented to God their morning and evening prayers : the surround
ing forests, for the first time reverberated the solemn sounds of
supplication and praise."
In the deep shadow ofthe soleran wood.
With rusthng pines, and woodland songsters nigh.
The raan of God araid his scholars stood.
And raised the tuneful song of praise on high.
Dartmouth, endeared to science is thy name.
Thy bounteous gift yet still shall long endure.

59

These dauntless hearts, these weary travelers came.
Thy gift for unbom thousands to secure.

No pompous rites the pleasing service crowned.
No organs swell, no costly robes wore there.
But murmurs of the forest reigned around.
Unbroken save by sounds of praise and prayer.
It was a simple structure which they reared.
Deep in the heart of that secluded grove.
But by the labor of their hands endeared.
And hallowed by a blessing from above.
Far different this from proud ancestral piles.
Beyond the sea, 'mid England's stately homes.
Where shadowy stillness reigned in cloistered aisles,
The dust of centuries, on ponderous tomes.
¦Where pale monastic men still pondered o'er.
Old volumes saved frora all destroying tirae.
Not such faraed Dartmouth, was thy treasured store.
Nor dim religious splendor such as theirs, was thine.
But through the winter's storm, and summer's heat.
Fair Science, did thy children gather there.
The Indian youth sat at Instruction's feet.
With his white brother, void of slavish fear.

Deep lay the snow its humble walls around,
¦When winter's wind came howling fiercely by ;
Their couch oft-times in suraraer's heat the ground.
And the blue vault above, their canopy.
Such Dartmouth, were thy " founding times " of old,
Clouds of the mora that ushered in thy days.
Of calm prosperity when we behold
Thy numerous sons, rehearse old Dartmouth's praise. E. a. B.

60

Washington asking pardon of Mr. Payjie.
WASHINGTON'S ACKNOWLEDGEMENT.

In 1754, Washington, then a young man of 22 years of age,
was stationed with his regiment at Alexandria. At this tirae, an
election for public ofiicers took place, and the contest between
the candidates becarae exciting and severe. A dispute took place
between Mr. Payne and Washington, in which the latter, (an
occurrence very uncoraraon with hira,) became warm, and said
something which gave Mr. Payne so much offense, that he
knocked Washington down. Instead of flying into a passion,
and sending hira a challenge to fight a duel, as was expected,
Washington, upon mature reflection, finding that he had been
the aggressor, he resolved to ask pardon of Mr. Payne on the
morrow. Accordingly he raet Mr. Payne the next day, and ex
tended his hand in a friendly manner : " Mr. Payne," said ho,
" to err is nature : to rectify error is glory. I find I was wrong
yesterday : but I wish to be right to day. You have had some
satisfaction : and if you think that was sufficient, here's my hand :
let us be fiiends." It is hardly necessary to state, that ever after
wards they were so.

61
Great Washington ! more noble far thou wert.
When like a suppliant thou didst meekly yieU,
Than when thy banners waved in victory high.
O'er foemen prostrate on the battle field.
Thou canst forgive ! oh heavenly blessed power!
Our brother frail, his insults to forgive.
To rise above revenge, that passion strong.
And good for evil, kindly, nobly give !
True courage this ! that nobly dares do right.
Nor heeds the proud, the puny worldling's scorn j
Fears not the slanderous tongue, or hellish spite.
But bravely, boldly, meets the thick'ning storm.
He soars above the fogs that close him round,
The dark sulphureous clouds that frown below,
To realras above, where seraph voices sound.
Where Love and Friendship pure, forever glow.
So like Monadnock's lofty towering height.
When all below the murky clouds deform ;
Though lightning's flash, though loud the thunder rolls.
In sunshine peers above the raging storm.
Oh little souls, that have no strength to rise
Above an insult : choose the better part.
Cherish the noble feeling ofthe soul.
That crushes hate when rising in the heart.
Be like the Father of your country bold,
'Tis Godlike thus, for evil good inspire ;
It calms the stubborn spirit sweetly down,
Melting the soul with coals of heavenly fire !
6 J. W. B«

GEN. REED REFUSING THE BRIBE.
In May, 1778, when Gen. Joseph Reed, of Pennsylvania, was
a member of the American Congress, three Commissioners from
Great Britain, Governor Johnstone one of them, addressed pri
vate letters to Francis Dana, Robert Morris, and Gen. Reed, to
secure their influence towards restoring harmony with the mother
country, by giving up their independence. But the atterapt was
in vain with these patriots. Gen. Reed, who was soraewhat des
ponding of ihe Araerican cause, had a direct proposition made to
hira, by a lady employed by Gov. Johnstone, that if he would
effect a re-union between the two countries, that ten thousand
pounds, and the best office in the gift of the crown in Araerica,
should be at his disposal. He replied, " that he was not worth
purchasing, but such as he was, the king of Great Britain was
not rich enough to do it."

No honors high, bestowed by kingly hands ;
No glory bright, to gain the mob's applause ;
Nor titles proud to cluster round his name.
Can move the hero from his country's cause.

63
No mines of gold can draw the patriot's soul,
Who to his country stands : no golden shower
Can blind his vision to his country's good;
In virtue strong, he scorns the tempter's power.
When titled men clothed with official power,
To tempt his soul with wealth and honor high.
He spurns the bribe ! and nobly, boldly tells.
Though poor, no king is rich enough to buy.
No threats of dangers, chains or banishment.
Or gifts of wealth, or power, or titled name.
Can daunt, or lure tiie noble lofly soul.
That feels, oh Liberty ! thy sacred flame.
My country ! sacred home ! I feel the power
These magic watch words give the inmost soul ;
More potent far than kingly mandates are.
The patriot's noble spirit to control.
Though tyrant's stalk around with pomp and power,
Boasting with pride that God hath made them so.
Freedom " though crushed to earth shall rise again,"
And men its lasting triumphs yet shall know.
What hosts are crushed by dire oppression's chain.
Throughout the wide-spread earth around, abroad ;
And creep and cringe before their fellow-worms,
Who claim the high prerogative of God.
Go make those little craven servile souls,
Their birth-right for a mess of pottage give ;
The high bom soul disdains the proffered bribe,
And nobly scorns in slavery's garb to live !
J. W. B.

64

PASSING THE DELAWARE.
The suraraer and fall ofthe year 1776, was the raost gloomy
period of the American Revolution. After a series of disasters.
Gen. Washington was obliged to retreat frora New York towards
Pennsylvania. The anny, which had consisted of 30,000 raen,
w-as reduced to about 3000. Many of these were ragged, without
shoes, and pinched with hunger. 'Iheir footsteps through the
ice and snow, were marked with blood as they fled before the
eneray. The American cause seeraed desperate, and Congress
recommended to each ofthe Slates, to observe " a day of solemn
fasting and humiliation before God." Washington saw the ne
cessity of striking a successful blow for the salvation of his coun
try. On the night of Dec. 25th, 1776, the army re-crossed the
Delaware, and advanced to attack a division of Hessians, who
lay at Trenton in fancied security. They were taken by surprise.
A few with their commander. Col. Rahl, were killed, aud 1000
were made prisoners.
The oppressor's marshalled hosts mighty in arms
advance. The sons of Freedom flee before their
haughty foes. The fiiU fed tyrants stalk around.

¦ ¦ X"

65

The men of servile souls creep forth and do them
homage. The lonely star of Freedom bright shi
ning on these western shores, grows dim, and dark
sulphureous storms now brood around.
In war's dread strife, our father's ranks grew thin
and scattered. They bent before the raging storm.
Through ice and snow, their footsteps marked their
path with blood. With fleets and armies strong,
the foe pursued, resolved to crush the feeble few,
who nobly stood in arras for freedom's holy cause.
The heavens grew dark with clouds ; the tem
pest thickened round their path, their fi-iends grew
sad and silent. Crushed down, but not destroyed,
our fathers hearts grew firm and strong. Like
the firm oak that shoots its roots into the earth,
more deep and strong, when rudely shaken by the
whirlwind blast I
One band remained. Firm in their country's
bleeding cause, they scorn to yield. One mighty
effort raore to make for freedom, sinking beneath
the tyi-ant's power, they forward move. With lion
hearts, and arras of steel, resolved on victory high,
or nobly fall as martyrs for the rights of raen.
They cross the raging flood, 'mid wintry blasts
and crackling ice. Safely they reach the other shore.
Their ranks in stern array are formed. Onward
they press on icy pavement strong. The mortal
conflict hastens on. An Empire's fate hangs trem.
bling in the breeze. Freedom is lost, or victory
won. The thoughts of home steal o'er and fiU their
souls. Perhaps the coming stoi-m -wUl lay them low
in blood, and those they love wiU see their forms no
6»

66

more. Their souls are moved within. They curse
that lust of power and pride that swims in tears
and blood. To crush this power, they boldly breast
the leaden, deadly, thundering storm I
The sun had tipped the distant hills with silvery
light, when roused from sleep, the foe appeared in
sight. Columbia's chieftain rises in his might, and
waves aloft his flashing steel. Once more ! my
fellow soldiers brave ! once more ! he cried. For
Freedom high now boldly strike !
As when some mighty storm, with whirlwind
power, sweeps o'er the plain, so rushed our fathers
on the haughty foe. Dismayed, o'er-powered and
crushed, they fell before the fiery tempest. They
lay their weapon in the dust and ask for life. Fair
Freedom smiled in tears of joy, that now this west
ern world was free !
Though storms may rage, and blacker grow the
skies, desert not Truth, or Freedom's holy cause.
With heart sincere, oh flrmly breast the howling
storm, and quail not before the lightning's flash.
The right shall yet prevail, the foe shall fall, and
final victory yet shaU come !

67

WASHINGTON AT MORRISTOWN, N. J.
I.N- 1777, the Araerican array were obliged to retire before the
superior force of the enemy, in the vicinity of Philadelphia, and
encaraped at Valley Forge, about 22 miles distant. The army
arrived at this place, about the 18th of December, and it is said
that they raight have been tracked, by the blood of the soldiers
feet, in marching bare-footed over the hard, frozen ground. The
army built tbemselves log-huts, or cabins, for a shelter ; but they
endured extreme suffering, from the want of provisions, blankets
and clothing, and many perished from privations and disease.
The American array had also suffered rauch the previous winter,
when they lay at Morristown, N. J. It is related, that on one
occasion, Washington told one of his hungry men, to go to his
table and refresh himself, while he would take his gun and per
form the duty of a common soldier, as a sentinel in his place.
The commander-in-chief, by raany sirailar acts of condescension,
greatly endeared himself to the American soldiers.
'Mid winter's howling storms of snow and ice,
Tne soldiers still with hope inspired.
Reared their rude cabins 'mid the chilling blast.
With love of home and freedom fired.

68
ni clad they shivered in the wintry wind.
No blasts could cool their hearts desire ;
By hunger sore, and fell disease they fell.
And in their country's cause expire.
True heroes th.-se ! that stand like valiant men.
Though sufferings many, keen and long;
No bribes can raove them frora their country's cause.
For freedom firm ! in virtue strong !
Great Washington their life of hardships shares.
With courage bold and martial grace
His presence cheers the faint desponding heart.
He takes the hurablest soldiers place.
Greatness of mind is this, that soars above
The petty place of rank and birth,
That feels for every man a brother's love ;
Such are the noblest rainds on earth.
The noble chieftain scorns, disdains to leave
His soldiers in their sore distress ;
He shares the sufferings, dangers, toils.
Which round his soldiers hourly press.
Thy spirit Liberty ! our Fathers felt.
With lion hearts, and upward eye ;
Firmly they stood in Freedom's holy cause.
Nor cowered beneath the angry sky.

C9

FUNERAL OF GEN. FRAZER.
In Octoher, 1777, Gen. Bursoyne, when advancing upon the
Northern Stales frora Canada, was efTectually checked in his
progress at Saratoga. Near this place, a bloody battle was
fought, in which Gen. Frazer, one of the principal officers of t^e
enemy, fell, mortally wounded, by a shot from one of Morgan's
rifle raen. As he lay dying he was heard to exclaira, " oh fatal
arabition !" " oh my pcor wife I" Ho was buried according to
his request, on an elevation near Hudson river, on which was a
battery. His remains were attended to the grave, at 6 o'clock
in the evening, by the general officers ; and the funeral scene \%
described as unusually solemn, impressive and awful, by the voice
of the chaplain, being accompanied by constant peals from the
American artillery, and the cannon shot which fiew thick around
and near the procession.

The warrior sleeps, he wakes no more.
At glory's voice of chivalry :

70
His part am'd the strife is o'er ;
He starts not at the cannon's roar.
Nor rolling drum, nor musketry.

No more the soldier leads the band.
Of Britain's warlike infantry.
They hear no more his stern command.
Nor gleams his sword, nor waves his hand.
Urging to death or victory.

The rifle lays the chieftain low.
By Morgan, aimed so fatally.
He falls where streams of life blood flow.
Where comrades 'neath the deadly blow,
Have fallen, wounded mortally.

So " glory leads, but to the grave,"
Such was the soldier's destiny.
To meet his doom he crossed the wave.
His life blood flowed, his deeds so brave.
Were given for chains and slavery.

In evening shadows sinks the sun.
And life departs thus mournfully.
Its brightness fades in shadows dun.
And so the hero's course was run.
And ended thus in tragedy.

His lifeless form is bome on high.
In solemn martial pageantry
While threat'ning clouds obscure the sky.
And fires of death are flashing nigh.
And roar of dread artiUery.

71
They grant the soldier's last request,
Though death flies round so fearfully.
They lay the warrior down to rest.
The turf upon his lifeless breast.
His grave is in the battery.

Ashes to ashes ! dust to dust !
The chaplain's voice thus steadilj'.
Gives back to earth its mournful trust.
Slowly and sadly as he must,
Amid war's dread artillery.

And in the soldier's native land.
The tidings fall most heavily ;
The wailings of his household band.
O'er him, laid low by war's dread hand.
The spirit move to sympathy.

Oh when shall war's dread tumult cease,
And brothers dwell in unity.
The captive from his chains release :
Father of aU ! oh give us peace.
And heaven bom love and harmony.

72

Count Donop mortally wounded at Red Bank.
COUNT DONOP.
In 1777, Col. Donop, a brave Hes-ian officer, raade an attacK
on the Red Bank, an American foitification, on the New Jersey
side of the Delaware. Col. Greene, the commander, having
retired to an inner fort before the attack, the Hessians entered
the out-works with shouts, supposing they had gained the victory.
But as they advanced a short distance, a most terrible and over
whelming fire, strewed the ground with ihe dead and dying.
Count Donop, mortally wounded, was conveyed to the house of
a Friend near by, where he expired. " See in me," said the dy
ing Count, " the vanity of human pride ! I have shone in the
courts of Europe ; and am now dying in the house of an obscure
Quaker !"

Dark lowering clouds float o'er the sky afar.
Fit emblem ofthe daik'ning shade of war :
Above the smiling land of peace outspread,
Where bannered armies of invaders tread.

73
The Hessian warrior onwai-d leads the way
To scenes of blood, in battles proud array ;
Bright visions dazzling float before his gaze,
When sovereign tongues shall speak the soldier's praise :
When laurel -wreaths shall crown his brow with fame ;
When beauty's Ups shall proudly speak his name ;
When minstrel harps amid his native land,
ShaU sound the victories of his conquering hand.
With pride he bids the band of freemen brave.
Who nobly sought their native land to save.
Lay down their hostUe arras, or else prepare.
The traitors ignominious doom to share.
His soldiers mount the walls, and victory cry.
Their shouts exulting, and their banners high.
When see ! they downward sink ! in groans they fall I
A storm of deatUy fire sweeps o'er them aU !
Alas, poor Donop ! whither now have fled
The dreams which their enchantment round thee shed ;
Thy noble form aU crashed and mangled lies,
In blood, in groans, in mortal agonies.
" Oh cursed ambition ! false deceitflil spell.
Hath lured me on to leam the trade of heU ;
Hath led me far across the rolling sea,
To crush a nation stmggUng to be free.
Sinking in death, uncared for, and unkno-wn,
I lie, who 'mid the pomp of courts have shone :
No gentle voice shaU whisper words of peace.
Or bid the parting spirit sweet release I"
7

74
Not so the Christian Soldier ! though he dies.
He wins a cro-wn beyond the starry skies :
With peaceful hope he yields his latest breath,
And gains the victory in the hour of death.
No mad ambition goads him lo the field.
Against the widow, and the orphan steeled ;
To gain on History's briUiant page a name.
Though men may bleed, may die to give him fame.
But Love, sweet Love ! impelled alone by thee,
The Christian Soldier, fetterless and free.
The wretched cheers ! the drooping heart shall raise.
Though none on earth may ever speak his praise.
But when the dread and final hour shall rise.
And rolling thunders cleave the parted skies ;
When dire convulsions rend the stormy spheres ;
And o'er the wreck of time the Judge appears :
The Christian Hero, in that hour shall stand,
Arrayed in shining robes at his right hand ;
On Life's fair book shall there be traced his name,
In lines of living Light ! to deathless fame !

75

DEATH OF BARON DE KALB.

The Baron de Kalb, a General in the American Revolutionary
army, was a native of Germany, bom about the year 1717. He
fell mortally wounded in a battle near Camden, S. C, while
vainly attempting to prevent the defeat of the Americans under
Gen. Gates, August, 1780. He appears to have had a kind of
presentiment, that he would fall in the approaching contest, which
he expressed to several ofthe Araerican officers, who were deeply
affected by this circumstance Said this brave foreigner, " To
die, is the irreversible decree of Him who raade us. Then what
joy to be able to raeet death without dismay. This, thank God,
is my case. The happiness of man is my wish : that happiness
I deem inconsistent with slavery. And to avert so great an evil
fi-om an innocent people, I will gladly meet the British to-mor
row, at any odds whatever."
An aged hero from a distant land,
' For freedom's cause hath crossed the sea ,
The brave de Kalb, a name to freemen dear,
PerUed his aU for Liberty.

76
Tyrants and despots with their iion power.
Have cursed the earth, both far and wide ,
Millions condemned to'suff"ering, toil and death,
To bloat their fellow- worms with pride.
The warlike Britons marshalled hosts draw near ,
Aloud they raise the battle cry :
" The foe I'll meet ; on to the conflict go.
Though in the bloody storm I die."
" To die, is the irreversible decree
Of Him who governs all below :
I feel within the solemn time draws nigh.
When from these mortal scenes I go."
De Kalb thus spoke : he leaves his friends in tears^
With high resolve, come death or life ;
He meets the foe, he braves the fearful storm,
For others good he joins the strife.
With thundering cannon, and with rolling dmm,
The storm of death sweeps wildly by ;
With overpowering numbers rush the foe,
With deafening shouts the fearful fly.
The stranger hero quails not ! still he stands,
Nerved to the conflict, scorns to flee :
Wounded he faUs, his life-blood freely flows,
Sacred to Freedom ! Liberty !

77

1 ^^'j-'^r^

THE MORAVIAN INDIAN MARTYRS.
Several depredations having been coraraitted by hostile Indi
ans, on the frontier inhabitants of Pennsylvania and Virginia, a
company of upwards of- lOO men, under the command of Col.
Williamson, crossed ihe Ohio, deterrained on vengeance. On the
Sth of March, 1782, ihey came upon the Moravian settleraents at
Salera and Gnadenhutten, and by false pretences, caused the
Christian Indians to asserable at the latter place. Here they
were treacherously iraprisoned and barbarously murdered. These
Indians, ninety in number, consisting of men, women and children,
when their immediate death was determined on, kneeled down
and prayed to God their Savior, took affectionate leave of each
other, and then sang a hymn of praise to Him who would soon
relieve them from all pain and sorrow. Impatient of delay, the
blood-thirsty wretches interrupted the last hymn they could sing
on earth, and demanded if they were not ready for death. They
answered yea, and added, they had coraraended their souls to God,
with tne assurance that he would receive theni. They were then
put to death.  Those of the soldiers, eighteen in nuraber, who
opposed these murders, stood at a distance, wringing their hands,
aud calling God to witness, " that tbey were innocent of the liTes
7*

78

of these harmless Christian Indians." The unchristian savages
were themselves amazed at this bloody deed. They said that
they had endeavored to draw their brethren back to heathenism,
but that the Great Spirit, in order to prevent it, had taken them
to himself

Our time is come ! -when we must go.
Into the " Spirit Land " on high ;
The cruel white man false has proved,
And basely led us here to die.
Great God of all ! on thee we call ;
Our murderous foes around us press ;
Our souls receive : be with us now.
Nor leave us jn our sore distress.
'Mid pale faced savage, cruel men,
These Christian Martyrs meekly stood,
Like harmless lambs, 'mid cmel wolves,
Like those of old, they call on God.
He gives his servants mighty power.
Courage to meet their threatened doom,
And with his smile to cheer the hour.
Of danger's deepest, darkest gloom.
These servants ofthe living God,
Unite in hymns of joyflil praise,
Meet the last earthly summons dread,
And loud their songs of triumph raise.
" Make haste ! no longer sing and pray ;
Make haste, your blood we wait to shed :"
So spake the fell, infernal crew,
LUie wolves impatient to be fed.

79

One loved, and long, and last embrace ;
They pardon all, and are forgiven :
Meekly they die, calling on God,
Like Stephen, look, and rise to heaven.
Oh sacred power ! that nerves the soul,
To suffer death 'raid scenes like this :
Above the world the spirit soars,
Resting in lasting heavenly bliss.
SUent in death these martyrs lay ;
They triuraphed in the darkest hour :
Like saints of old, they nobly fell
'Mid heUish spite, and demon power.
The savage pagan hears the tale.
How white men kill the men that pray ;
Amazed he stands at deeds like this.
Murder most foul in open day.
" Oft have we tried to draw them back.
No more the Christian's God to love,"
This to prevent, the red men said,
" Their God has taken them above."

80

Prince Gallitzin at Loretto Penn
PRINCE GALLITZIN.

Gallitzin, a Catholic clergyman oi
was born at Munster, in Gerraany His

Demetrius Augustus
Cambria Co., Penn
father, Prince de Gallitzin, ranked among the highest nobility of
Russia ; his mother was the daughter of a celebrated Field Mar
shal, under Frederick the Great. The young Prince held a high
commission in the Russian army from his infancy. While quite
a youth, he came to America, and landed at Baltimore in 1782.
He soon turned his attention to the christian ministry, and for 43
years exercised the pastoral office in Cambria County. When he
first came to this place, situated among the Alleghany raountains,
he found it a wilderness, but by great labor and privations, and
after expending a princely forturfe, he succeeded in making " the
wilderness to blossom as the rose." He who might have reveled
in princely halls, spent thirty years in a log cabin, denying him
self, that he might raise the fallen, clothe the naked, and feed the
hungry. He died in May, 1840, at Loretto, near Ebensburg,
aged 70 years.
Servant of God ! thy heavenly mission's o'er.
Thy work in this dark world is done ;

81
Thy Master calls thee to a throne above ;
'Thy conflict's past ! thy victory's won !
Though bom in princely halls and nursed with pride,
Though wealth was thine, and honor, fame ;
Too poor it proved, to fill a soul like thine,
That sought a new and holier narae.
Then ask not with a bigot's purblind zeal.
Which ? Paul or Cephas he preferred :
But did he strive to do his master's will.
And did he humbly walk with God 1
Oh for that love of Trath ! that looks above.
The feeling of a bigot's heart ;
That tramples down the walls that men would raise.
To keep God's servants wide apart.
Gallitzin! bom a nobleman of God,
Thyself thou didst not seek to please.
By shrinking far away to cloistered walls.
To doze out life in listless ease.
Oh no ! but like thy master, thou didst toil.
Among a fallen race, around, abroad.
And preach his gospel to the humble poor,
And call the wandering back to God.
The splendors of a royal Court were left.
To hush the cries of sore distress :
To clothe the naked, feed the hungry poor.
The widow and the orphan bless.
Did glory bring thee to the tented field.
And warlike hosts await thy nod 1
Oh no ! thou liv'st to save the lives of men.
Yes ! like thy Savior, Jesus, God.
Oh for that time ! when men like Christ shall live !
Too few like thee, oh sainted one,
¦Thy heavenly Master's footsteps here have trod :
Servant of God, well done ! well done ! J. W. B.

82

COUNCIL OF THE MOHAWK WOMEN.

Justice has hardly been done to the virtues of the Indian wo
men of our country. Instances have been known, when by their
influence as peace-makers, they have prevented many bloody
wars. Alive to the interests of those dear to them, they have
iraplored those who had the power to stop the traffic of spirituous
hquors, the use of which has ruined so raany tribes. In May,
1802, the Mohawk women asserabled in council, to which they
called the celebrated Capt. Brant, and other chieftains of the tribe.
Addressing thera as Uncles, in the Indian manner, they laraented
the many misfortunes araong thera caused by drinking the "fire
waters," and iraplored thera to stop the trade. There being con
tentions among the Mohawk warriors and chieftains, they en
treated them to bury all disputes, and added, that as they had in
a great measure been the cause of stirring up their raale relations,
they would do it no raore. Capt. Brant replied, addressing them
as " nieces," that they would do their best to have these evils don
away. Blest are the messengers of peace,
Who come with soothing power,

83
To bid tlie storms of passion cease,
In hatred's darkest hour.

In every clime, fair woman mild,
Her gentle sceptre -wields.
And man's proud spirit, stern and wild,
Beneath its influence yields.

When the accursed " fire waters '
Among the Indian race.
To kindle hatred to a flame,
With misery and disgrace.

Then gentle woman's voice was heard.
The Mohawk matron's prayedj
The honored chieftains of their race.
For Right to lend their aid.

The white man comes with draughts of fire.
To barter here for gain ;
Sons, brothers, sires, the poison drink.
With misery on its train.

The mother's prayers, the -wife's deep sighs.
The sister's hapless lot ;
The tears that fall from orphan's eyes,
Alike are heeded not.

Brother -with brother madly strives.
Ruled by a demon sway,
And. fiercely shed each others blood.
Like ravenous beasts of prey.

84
" Oh bid the murderous traffic cease,
Ye chieftains of our race ;
And to the reign of peace and love.
These fiendish deeds give place.

Oh drive the poison far away.
And bid the white man bring
The maddening liquor here no more.
Nor touch the accursed thing.

So let our simple prayer be heard.
Our by-gone joys restore ;
Bury the hatchet in the earth.
And live in peace once more."
The chieftains listened to their prayer,
And pledged their vow that day,
To touch no more the poisonous draught.
But drive it far away.

So woman should thy voice be heard,
And so thine influence given ;
Queuing the stormy passions power.
Leading the soul to Heaven.

85

CAMPBELL'S GRAA^E.
On the 5ih of July, 1779, a body of 3000 men, under the com
mand of Gen. Tryon, landed near New Haven, Conn., and pro
ceeded to the invasion of that place. About 1500 ofthe enemy,
under Gen. Garth, landed at West Haven Point, and took up
their march for New Haven. Their march along die sutamit of
Milford Hill, with their scarlet uniform, and well burnished arms
flashing in the sun beams, is described as a most imposing scene.
Adjutant Campbell, tall and elegant in person, of splendid mili
tary appearance, and the idol of the soldiers, commanded one of
the advance guards of the enemy. He was shot down by some
ofthe militia, who had hastily assembled to oppr.se their progress-
He was carried into a humble dwelling near by, where he ex
pired. His body was found on a bed unattended, and was car
ried on a sheep-rack to his grave. The spot is still to be seen,
designated by a small rough stone, on which is inscribed, " Camp
bell, 1779," erected, by the Author of this work, in Sept, 1844.
No marble monument is thine ;
No stately pile, no massive torab,
8

86
Where waving banners proudly shine.
Amid the Abbey's gloom :
No pompous strains to teU thy praise ;
No child of song awakes his lays ;
No organ's peal through arches high,
A requiem to thy memory.

No, thine is but a lowly grave.
Beneath New England's deep blue sky ;
Its summer flowerets o'er thee wave.
Its winds thy requiem sigh :
A lowly grave, one simple stone.
Tells of thy song linked name alone ;
Alone, afar I above the plain.
Thy sleeping dust doth still remain.

Sleep on, oh gaUant soldier thou !
Sleep on and take thy dreamless rest ;
Death's seal upon thy noble brow.
The turf upon thy breast :
But calm beneath these smiling skies.
The forest city near thee lies.
The murmuring river rolls between.
Her stern old rocks, her bowers of green.

Perhaps amid thy native land.
Thine own fair isle beyond the sea,
The loved ones of thy household band,
Looked long in vain for thee :
For thee they watched through long bright hours •
For thee they decked their green wood bowers ;
And listened at the homestead door.
For footsteps they should hear no more.

87
Oh bright thy country's banners danced,
And fluttered in the morning light ;
And flashing steel and scarlet glanced,
All bathed in radiance bright :
At night their path was lone once more.
The drum was stiU, the strife was o'er :
And thou the noblest of them all.
Doomed in the foremost ranks to fall.

Full many a year since then has passed.
Of toil for blood bought liberty :
Right manfully the die was cast.
For death or victory.
And now our flag floats far and wide.
Its stars and stripes, our conntry's pride.
And we a people brave and free.
To God alone bow heart and knee.

But when the last dread tmmp shall sound.
And like a scroll roll back these skies,
From every bloody battle ground.
Earth's myriad hosts shall rise ;
And marshaled rank on rank shall stand.
The warrior hosts of eveiy land ;
Then forests wild, and ocean's bed,
AUke that day give up their dead. E. G. B«

88

THE WESTERN MISSIONARY.
About the year 1800, at the period of the first settlement of
cur western states, itinerant missionaries were sent from the east
to labor in the new setUements scattered here and there in the
wilderness. In order to extend the light of religion, and lay the
foundation of happiness and intelligence to a great people yet to
come, ihese devoted men endured much toil, danger and suffering
in the tedious forests, unknown deserts, and trackless uninhabited
regions. One of these missionaries, while travelling in the north
ern section, in the depth of winter, became bewildered and be
numbed by the chilling frost. He was found sometime after
wards, having been frozen lo death while on his knees, in the
attitude of prayer.
True Patriot ofthe human race is he,
A suul of noble, yea of heavenly birth ;
Who lives to scatter li^ht and love abroad.
The faithful servant of his God on earth.

No golden region far doth lure him on.
Nor hope of honor bright, nor selfish love

89
Inspires his breast : his soul, with eagle eye,
Looks upwards to the reahns above.
¦What though thy lowly name will not appear
Upon the musty rolls of human fame.
In God's own book of everlasting life
Is found inscribed thy new and holier name.
The proud of earth may scorn thy humble mien,
Despise thy work, disdain thy feeble voice ;
Angels attend thee in thy mission round.
And ever in thy labors kind rejoice.
Through forests dark and wild, o'er mountains high.
In wilds wherever human foot has trod.
To dark benighted, fallen, wretched men.
Thou art the high Ambassador of God.
No ravening beasts, nor savage cruel men.
Thy firm and dauntless heart can ever move,
Nor summer's burning heat, nor winter's cold.
Can stay thy noble embassy of love.
Thou laborest still ; waiting thy raasters will,
To be discharged, and calmly then obey,
The summons to thine everlasting rest,
In realms of endless light ! eternal day !
The tirae is come I fierce howls the wintry blast ;
No farther onward can the wanderer go ;
Kneeling, on God he calls ; calmly he dies.
Amid a lonely wilderness of snow.
Oh thus to die I and nobly thus to fall!
When on a mission, holy, high like this ;
Iraraortal honor bright, it gives the soul,
" Sacred, substantial, never fading bliss."
Angelic hosts now hail thee welcorae home ;
Thy godlike spirit dwells araong the just ;
Though ravening wolves may howl, and roam aroimd.
Thy God will guard his servant's sleeping dust.
8* t. w. >.

90

PERILOUS PASSAGE ON THE LAKES.
The North American Indians appeared to have far more cor-
rfrt views of the Deity than most heathen nations. Though gefl-
einlly Polytheists, or believers in many gods, yet ihey believed
th re w.-is one Supreme God or Great Spirit who ruled over all.
A person long resident araong the Indians, states that he has of-
l.-ii seen them pray to the Great Spirit when about to engage in
..-!ity enterprise of moment, or hazard. An Indian woman of his
•j.-i-|iiaintance, wishing to visit an island in one of our great North-
p.-n Lakes, was in trouble on account of the great hazard of the
n'uiertakino'. Placing herself in the attitude of prayer, she fer-
''¦'¦nlly prayed to the Great Spirit to give her a safe passage.
'1 hen addressing herself with energy to paddling her frail canoe
brough the foaming waters, she was landed on the desired shor*»
^Q safety.

The thickening foam is on the deep.
The tall grass waves around.
And through the pines, the storm winds sweep,
With wild and mournful sound.

91

Afar the sullen w-aters roar.
And low the wild bird flies ;
While threatening clouds portentous soar.
And darker frown the skies.
The Indian matron views the scene ;
Far off yon island lies ;
Loud roars the pathless gulf between.
The lake's broad billows rise.
Undaunted stands the fearless form.
Of one who dares to brave,
Tho fiiry ofthe coraing storra.
The madness ofthe wave.
" Great Spirit, thou dost rule the sea.
By thine Almighty power;
Thy feeble creature calls on thee.
Oh save me in this hour !
When as the wreaths of smoke rolled by.
The fieiy deluge came,
Wrapping the prairie, and the sky,
In one broad sheet of flame.
And when the deer flew quickly past,
Urged on by terror wild.
And perished in the fieiy blast.
Then thou didst save thy child.
When the fierce wolf, and panther howled.
Around their forest den.
And round my pathway wildly howled,
Still thou wert with me then.

92
When cruel foemen like a flood,
O'erwhelmed our srailing land,
Nor spared the tender infants blood.
Thou savest me from their hand.
Great Spirit ! creature of thy care,
To thee alone I bow ;
Thou didst of old in danger spare,
Oh save thy servant now !"
The frail canoe has left the shore ;
Far, far behind it lies ;
The lii^htnings flash, the thunders roar,
And darker grow the skies.
But still she calls on God to save ;
She plies the nimble oar ;
The bark flies on, she skims the wave i
She nears, she gains the shore !

E. G. B.

03

SKENANDOA, THE ONEIDA CHIEF.
Skenandoa, the celebrated Oneida chief, was the firm and effi
cient friend of the United States during the Revolutionary war.
He was very savage, and addicted to dmnkenness during his youth,
but by the effort of Rev. Mr. Kirtland the missionary, and his
own reflections, he lived a reformed man more than sixty years,
and died in Christian hope. He died in 1816, at Oneida Castle,
near Utica, N. Y., at the advanced age, it is said,of one hundred
and ten years He desired to be buried near Mr. Kirtland, his
beloved minister and father, that he might, (to use his own ex
pression,) " Go vp with him. at the great resurrection." To a
fiiend who called on him a short time before his death, he thus
expressed himself through an interpreter:
"I am an need hemlock. The winds of an hundred winters have
¦whistled throuirh my branches ; I am dead at the top. The genera
tion to which I belonijed h^ve run awny and left me ; why I Uve,
the Great Good Spirit only knows. Pray to my Jesus that I may
have patience to wait my appointed time to die 1"
Time with unsparing hand,
Sweeps all away, the dark brown years have sped ;

94
An aged hemlock, grey tvith years I stand.
My leaves are scattered, and my top is dead.
An hundred winter's winds have o'er me past.
And left my branches bare amid the chilling blast.
An hundred springs have brought
The swelling buds, the flowers, the early rain.
The sun's bright rays, the forest depths have sought
Aild f-eed the streamlets from their icy chain ;
They brought the songs of many a woodland bird.
And the green leaves by balmy breezes stirred.
But they shall bring to rae
The ton. ler foliage of my youth no more ;
My Spring is past, and wasted stands the tree
Whose beauty, Suraraer's breath can ne'er restore ;
Spring, Summer, Autumn, with their charms have flown,
And in my Winter time I stand alone.
And all I used to love
In by-gone years, amid my race are gone ;
Still sraile the fields, where we were wont to rove ;
My comrades heed no more the blushing dawn,
Or the wild notes that called thera to the chase.
Like morning vapor, gone ! who, who shall fill their place 7
The streams go bubbling by.
Beside whose banks, the red raan used to stray ;
The skies as warmly sraile ; with softest sigh,
Araid the moaning grove the breezes play :
" Will ye come back, oh friends I loved of yore ?"
The winds reply " No more ! they come no more !"
Like them I too niust go, —
The good Great Spirit, soon for me -wiU call ;

95

Why thus so long, I linger here below,
I know not ; but my Savior knoweth all ,
Oh friends, that he will grant me patience, pray.
That I may calmly wait, through long delay.
And w hen that call, I hear.
And longing, weary, I shall go to rest.
Lay me by him, who taught rae first to fear
The white man's God, the Father ever blest ;
Lay me by him, that I with hira may wake.
When the Great Resun-ection raorn shall break.
Oh brave and honored chief I
Death's summons found thee waiting for the day.
Whose peaceful coming brought thee sweet relief.
And called the prilgrim from his weary way.
To join the blood-washed throng around the throne.
Where age steals on no more, nor grief is known.

96

a I
iu.1Jtal|b.. /

Death of the child of Judge Kingsbury.
FIRST BORN OF THE RESERVE.
Amove the first families that wintered on the Connecticut
Western Reserve, (the north-eastern section of Ohio,) was that
of Judge .Taraes Kingsbury. They anived al Conneaut, (some
times termed the Plymouth of the Reserve,) during the summer of
1796, soon afier the country was first surveyed. Being compelled
by business to visit the State of New York, with the expectation
of a speedy retu.-n to h'u family, .Tudge Kingsbury was detained
by a severe sickness till winter set in. As soon as he was able,
he proceeded on his return, with an Indian to guide him through
the wildeine.-is. His horse having- been disabled, he left him in
the snow, and mounting a bag of flour on his own back, he urged
his way onward towards his family. 'He finally arrived in safety,
and found the partner of his car.s. reduced by famine to the last
stages in which life can be supporiel ; and near her, on a little pal
let, lay the remains of his younijest child, born in his absence, who
had just expired for the want of that nourishment which the mo
ther was unable to give.
Child of Ohio's pioneers !
first in its northern wilderness !

97
'Mid wintry storms and forests wild.
Suffering by hunger, sore distressed I
The Mother helpless, lonely, sad.
In a rough dwelling famished hes :
Her Bufferings keen ; her friends away ;
Her little one, it moans and dies !
Through forest branches bare and high.
Fierce sweeps the wind the cottage pass ;
The Wolf-howl and the Panther's scream.
Are heard above the wintry blast.
Where is the husband 1 father, where?
When will he come 1. O see thy child !
Vain is the call ! louder the wind
Is heard along the forest wild.
A weary wanderer, lost, forlorn.
Perhaps he roams the forest o'er ;
_ Perhaps by ravening beasts he's torn,
Or chilled, he sinks to rise no more.
So spake in tears the suffering wife ;
Beside her lay her infant dead.
First bom upon the wild Reserve,
By hunger sore its spirit fled.
Through suffering thus, Ohio rose
Thy fields, from out the wilderness ;
Thy brave and hardy pioneers.
Millions of freemen yet shall bless.
And such was woman's love, that led
Through western -wilds, her fragile form ;
Like rainbow beauty, softly shed.
And gleaming brightest through the storm.
9

98

RAN YERRY, AND JUDGE WHITE'S GRAND-CHILD.
InDGE White, the first settler of Whitetown, N. Y., removed
to that place in 1784. Han Yerry, an Oneida Chief, yvho lived
m the vicinity, called on the Judge one day, and asked him if he
was his friend ? Yes, he replied. Well then, said the Indian, do you
believe that I am your friend 1 The Judge again replied, yes.
Then said Han Yerry, I will tell what I want, then I shall know
whether you speak irue words. The Indian then pointed to a
little child, the daughter of one of his sons, two or three years old,
and said : my wife wants to take her home to stay one night with
us, and we will bring her home to-raorrow. The feelings of the
grand-father and the mother were put to a severe test. They
however concluded it would be best to put confidence in the word
of the savage, and thus appeal to his sense of honor. They were
told to take the child. A long night and day succeeded, -with
many foreboding fears on the part of the mother. At the close of
the day, the little child was brought back, arrayed in all the finery
of Indian attire. This adventure was the cause of an ardent at
tachraent between the whites and Indians.
The Indian clasped the smiling babe.
And bade the prattler rest.

99
[n childhood's fearless innocence,
Upon his dusky breast.
And towards his forest home he turned.
While yet the mother's eye
Looked on her child, and red-browed guest.
In strduge anxiety.
' Let ns be friends," the Indian said.
This prattling child shall ba.
Between the pale faced race, and mine,
A pledge of amity.
Bade to the Indian's forest home.
This child I bear awhile ;
For one amid the woodland wild
WiU love his infant sraile."
He turns him to depart once more ;
Pale grows the mother's cheek !
The confiict 'twixt her love and fear,
A mother's heart may speak.
How shall she let the dear one go,
Far from its mothei-'s breast ;
She must, or make a deadly foe
Of her dark Indian guest.
Slow through' the forest winding path,
She sees their figures fade ;
She gazes still, till they are lost
Amid the deep'ning shade.
The night wears on, and comes the day.
But come no chief or child :
Slow pass the tedious hours away.
The mother's heart is wild.
But sudden up the woodland path,
A stately forra appeara ;
They corae I the Indian and the child ;
Sad mother, dry thy tears.
Then anxious mother be at rest.
Kind hearts thy child restore ;
Thy confidence hath made thy guest
A friend for evermore.

100

Arms of New Jersey.
THE INDIAN BLESSING, ON NEW JERSEY.

Is 1832, a petition was presented by Bartholomew S. Calvin,
.-in aged Delaware Indian, for some compensation for relinquish
ing sorae rights his tribe had in hunting and fishing in New Jersey.
The Legislature received the petition, and granted 9,000 dollars,
being all that was solicited. Calvin returned a letter of thanks to
ihe Legislature, in which be feelingly bears his testimony to the
high sense of justice ever shown by the people of New Jersey, to a
feeble and wasted people. Said he, " not a drop of our blood have
you spilled in battle. — Not an acre of our land have you taken
but by our consent. * * * There may be some who would despise
an Indian benediction: but when I retum to my people, and
make known the result of my raission, the ear of the Great Sove
reign of the Universe, which is still open to our cry, will be pen
etrated with our invocation of blessings upon the generous sons ol
New Jersey. * * » » Unable to return them any other corapensa
tion, I fervently pray that God will have thera in his holy keep
ing, * * * and receive thera into his kingdora above."
Brothers ! to you the mighty and stout hearted.
To you, who fitly speak the white man's power;
Type of a race, whose glory is departed.
Aged and weak I come to you this hour.
These broad green fields, these hills, these woodlands hoarj
The chieftains of our nation trod of old :

101
Our smiling lakes, our rivers fraught with story.
We offer to your pale faced race for gold.
For proudly to your honor, be it spoken.
Since first the white raan sought these vales we tiead.
No treaty of our peace, has yet been broken.
No drop of Indian blood has yet been shed.
Farewell ! we go, and blessings be upon you :
The Indian's path is towards " the setting sun ;"
Your kindly deeds, your noble acts have won you
The Red Man's thanks, long as his life shall run.
Let others scorn the humble boon we proffer.
An Indian's benediction on your lot,
'Tis all we have to give ; and this we offer.
Though humble, hearts like yours, will spurn it not.
And when towards home, our journey we are wending,
And tell the deeds of noble hearts and true ;
Then grateful prayers, and warmest blessings, blending,
ShaU reach the Almighty's ears for yours, and you.
So spake the Indian, and no prouder story
E'er graced the lists of worldly rank and fame ;
No other State can boast the meed of glory.
That's linked New Jersey with thine honored name.

9»

102

THE MOTHER PERISHING WITH COLD.
In December, 1827, Mr. Blake, with his wife and infant daugh
ter, while traveling in a sleigh over the Green Mountains in
Vermont, were overtaken by a snow storm. The storm was so
thick and fiirious, that their horse refused to stir. Mr. B., realiz
ing his dangerous position, after protecting his wife and child as
well as he could against the storm left them, intending to seek
for aid at the first house he could find. He was soon benumbed
by the cold, and fell, and found himself unable to rise. His wife,
as is supposed, alarmed" at his long absence, left the sleigh in or
der to find him. When within thirty rods of her husband, she
was overcome by the cold. Knowing her fate, she stripped her
self of the thickest part of her clothing and wrapped up her infant
daughter. Mr. Blake was found alive the next morning, with
his hands and feet badly frozen : the body of his wife was found
lifeless and cold : and lifting up the infant from its snowy bed,
the hearts of the beholders were rejoiced to see it smile. In the
following stanzas, some extracts are taken from Mrs. Seba
Smith's expressive lines on this touching incident.
The storm was fierce, the wintry blast
Howled deep at close of day ;

103
And where the snow fell thick and fast.
The travelers pressed their way :
The husband, wife, and infant child.
Alone, araid the tempest wild.
To save that cherished wife and child.
The husband braves the snow ;
But the fierce storm grew slill more wild.
He can no farther go :
'Tis vain against the blast to press,
He sinks amid the wilderness.
And she the raother with her child !
Sweet woman's song has told.
How bravely in the tempest wild.
She braved the blast so cold :
And how that frail defenceless form
Pressed op, still on, amid the storm.
And how the mantle from her breast.
She folded round her child ;
And as she sank at last to rest.
Upon her infant smiled ;
With love that death could never chill.
Pressed to her heart that infant still.
Now fiercely howled the wolf afar.
And loudly roared the blast.
With chill of death : the morning star
Its ray around him cast ;
And waving pines, with mournful sound.
So deep and solemn, wailed around.
At dawn the traveler passed by,
And found her icy form.
Who, when no earthly friend was nigh.
Perished araid the storra :
" He raoved the robe from off the childe
The babe looked up and sweetly smiled."
A mother's love ! thus, thus through all
It lives through every ill :
No storms its courage can appal.
Nor icy blast can chill :
Like evergreens 'mid wintry snows,
With brighter beauty ever glows.

104

CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS.
In the western part of Virginia, in the mountainous region, the
country is thinly settled, and the roads few. In sorae counties
there are no settled clergymen, and the inhabitants are princi
pally dependent on itinerant preachers, to conduct the public
worship of their larger religious assemblies. In order to enjoy
their religious privileges, they assemble together from a large
district of the surrounding country, and once every year form a
kind of religious Encampment. The engraving is from an orig
inal drawing from Howe's Hist. Coll. Virginia, and represents
one of these encampments. The rude structure seen in the cen
tral part, is for public religious services. It ia sui-rounded on
three sides by rows of log cabins, built for the convenience ofthe
people who assemble here to worship God, in the depth of a wild
forest. In the lone forest, solemn, dark and wild.
Where raen from worldly turmoil meet :
Oh sacred spot ! where God is worshipped.
In love and unity complete !
No towering turrets meet the wondering eye ;
No massive structure high and wide ;

105
No columns high, nor gaudy frescoed walls.
Speaking of wealth, of power, of pride.
Oh no ! nought but a simple, lowly shed,
A cover from the sun-lit heat ;
No doors to close 'gainst him with " raiment vile,"
Nor is he sh^wn a beggar's seat.
0 blessed place I where Christians love to meet.
In this dark wilderness of sin ;
To talk of Him they love, oh converse sweet I
Their heavenly work they thus begin.
No pompous priest attempts, with flowery words,
To gain on earth a brilliant narae ;
Who loves the fleece raore than the flock itself:
A stigraa on the Christian name.

No puppet men are wanted here to teach.
To show forth things they never knew.
Like tinkling cymbals, and like sounding brass
Like changing winds, like raorning dew.
But in the humble stand, the man of God appears.
With zeal divine, and ardent love ;
His soul yearns kindly o'er his feUow men.
And longs to turn their thoughts above.
They feel the flame I they raise their notes of praise ;
The forest echoes with their voice :
Oh heart-felt joy ! they feel that heaven is near ;
They in the love of God rejoice.
Oh for that time I when holy, heavenly power,
Shall cleanse this fallen world from sin ;
When every heart, the power of Christ shall prove.
And life immortal feel within. /. W. P.

106

THANKSGIVING.
The first settlers of New England, having no regular set fasts
and festivals in their church discipline, appointed days of fasting
on special occasions, such as times of great mortality, scarcity of
provisions, and times of public dangers in times of -«-ar. Days
of Thanksgiving were appointed on occasions of great joy, such
as the termination of Indian and French wars, remarkable deliv
erances from dangers, &c., and especially for abundant crops.
This ancient practice is stiU kept up, and has been extended to
many States of our Union, who now annually appoint a day of
fa.sting and humiliation in the spring, anda day of Thanksgiving,
generally in the last of November, of each year. The " church
going bell," sumraons the people to the house of God, where tho
preacher on these occasions, generally recounts the mercies of ihe
past and other years. The scattered merabers of each family
meet under the paternal roof, and it is of gratitude, hilarity and
joy. The rolling year has well nigh fled ! Crowned
with the mercy of our God each season passed away !
Our garners fiill ! enough for each, and all. The

107
father, grey with years, caUs his offspring round ;
the mother, with willing hand, prepares the dainty
treat. The festive board groans with the choicest
food. Brothers and sisters meet, in friendship dear,
and chastened joy.
This festal day, the happiest of the year, is hailed
with joyful welcorae. The aged sire, with fond re-
merabrance, and with grateful thanks, tells of the
scenes of old. The young in years, blooraing in
life's fair morn, now meet in childish glee. The
merry laugh, the noisy gambols of the joyous
youth are heard around.
In times of old, the red man of the forest shade,
lurked round our Father's dwellings. Thirsting for
blood, he raised the murderous hatchet, and aimed
the swift-winged arrow fraught with death. His
eye spared not the beauteous maiden bathed in tears,
the whitened locks of age, nor infants smiling at
theu- mother's breast.
Oh give your thanks to God, for he is good and
kind. The savage lurks around no more ! His
fearful yells no longer rouse us from our midnight
slumbers. His bloody hatchet, buried in earth, re
mains ; his knife is broken, and his an-ow wings its
deadly flight no more !
The men of France, with their dusky allies,
moved from the north, with hostile steps. Red des
olation marks their path 'mid wintiy snows : in silent
watches ofthe night they burst in upon the sleeping
viUagers. In horror wakened, they fall in blood.
The flames rise high ! the morning sun looks on the
sraoking ruins round.
Give thanks ! The mother with her oflfspring at
her breast, trembles no more ! The mighty ships

108
of France, freighted with death, are scattered by the
tempest blast, or sunk like lead, beneath the raighty
waters ! The foe's strong hold, high on the frowning
rock, is taken, and on these western shores, he bears
his sway no more.
The hostile British hosts, pass o'er' our land.
Their path is marked by fire and blood. With iron
power they strive to crush a people struggling to be
free. With proud contemptuous scorn, they forge
our chains. They claim the right divine, to guide
our thoughts, to take our hard-earned bread, and
lord it o'er our land.
Give thanks ! that now no despots have the pow
er to say, where, when, and how, to worship God.
Give thanks ! no one can take our children's bread
to feed and pamper lordly pride. No royal pauper
here, to feed and clothe, by the hard earnings of the
laboring poor. We reap on soil we claim our own,
and toil for those we love.
Earth's struggling millions crushed to the dust,
look upward with their longing eyes. The bow of
Promise glows on dark'ning clouds, that flee before
the orb of day. Give thanks I The Despot's pow
er, hoary with age, grows weak ; fetters and chains,
brown with the rust of time, now break away.
With bosom bare, her eye on heaven, fair Truth
advances, and the shades of night retire. A voice
is heard above, that " God's unsuffering kingdom
soon shall come !"

109

DISCOTERIES AND SETTLEMEIVTS.
IN THE ORDER OF TIME.
1492. Long centuries ago, the Genoese,
The bold Columbus crossed the stormy seas,
With courage bold, with spirit firm and brave,
A land to find beyond the western wave.
1497. Sebastian Cabot, son of Venice, came
In later years, this new found land to claim,
To find for unborn millions here a home,
Where savage men alone were wont to roam.
1512. Next Ponce tie Leon, sought thy verdant bowers,
Fair Florida, the lovely land of flowers ;
1528. And next de Narvaez, with his hostile band,
Sought to invade, and conquer this fair land.

1535. Far to the North, where wild Canadians roam,
Cartier, the Frenchman, sought to find a home ;
16

110

1539. And in the South, De Soto sought for gold.
Where the great Mississippi's waters roUed

1562. And next, the Frenchman Ribault, ¦with, his band,
Of fearless exiles sought Columbia's strand,
And near the blue Edisto, sought in vain,
A home amid the western wilds to gain.

1584. Raleigh, the knight, and soldier, bold and brave,
Sent forth his comrades o'er the Atlantic wave,
And this fair Southern State, Virginia named,
From England's virgin Queen, in history famed.

1586. Next Grenville, crossed the ocean with his band,
A Colony to plant in this new land :
Again, and yet again, come o'er the wave,
Virginia's pioneers, the bold and brave.

1602. Years passed away ; on Massachusetts shore.
The daring Gosnold turned his prow of yore :
1608. Next Chesapeake, brave Smith explored thy bay,
And far Quebec, arose to mark the day.

1609. Brave Hudson next, to this new country came.
And blue Manhattan gave thy later name ;
1611. Champlain, the Frenchman, many a year ago,
His record left where tUvery waters flow.

1614. The sea-girt coast, throughout our cotmtry famed.
By Charles the monarch, was New England
named ;
While Holland's sons fllled fair Manhattans isle,
And where New Jersey's fhiiifld vaUies smUe.

Ill
1620. And next the glorious " Pilgrim Fathers" came.
To Plymouth rock, a spot endeared to fame ;
1623. New Hampshire next, Columbia's Switzerland,
Was peopled by the Pilgrim's hardy band.

1627. Fair Pennsylvania, smiling Delaware,
The Swedes, and Fins, first sought a dweUing thee .
1633. Next Maryland, the noble Baltimore,
With his adherents sought thy fertile shore.
1635. Then old Connecticut, along thy side.
Thine early settlers laden vessels glide ,
Old Windsor still repeats the red man's name,
And Hartford tells her early settlers fame.

1636. Next dauntless Williams, with a spirit free,
Rhode Island, found a hiding place in thee,
A fugitive who gained a deathless fame.
And with his country's annals linked his name.
1637. New Haven next, city, and colony.
Thy noble founders sought a home in thee ;
1639. Next Narraganset in thy rolling bay.
The vessels of fair Newport's settlers lay.
For twelve bright years, behold new scenes arise !
Oh fair Columbia 'neath thy smiling skies,
Connecticut, Rhode Island, Carolina fair.
With bright New Jersey's annab mingling there.

1682. Next Penn of memory well beloved and great,
The ocean crossed to found a peaceful State ;
A city where sweet Peace and Love should reign,
And richest blessings foUow in their train.

1!2
1682. While brave La Salle bestowed his monarch's
name.
Where now a home the generous Frenchmen claim;
1702. And Louisiana, 'neath thy smiling skies,
We next behold a New Orleans arise.

1723. The settler turns to thee. Green Mountain State,
And Trenton, linked with our young country's fate ;
1733. The increasing tide fair Georgia moves to thee,
1740. Exploring thy fair b-5rders Tennessee.
1749. Next Nova Scotia, on thy strand so bleak.
The sons of Britain came a home to seek ;
1765. To Tennessee and Carolina fair.
New groups of hai-dy settlers now repair.
1773. And fair Kentucky to thy fertile land.
Came hunter Boone and his adventurous band ;
1 787. Next fair Ohio, 'neath thy smUing skies.
Amid thy woods the log buUt cabins rise.

113

Scene at Lexington,
WAU OF THE KEVOEUTION.
EIGHT YEARS.
1775.
[The first year of the Sevolution.]
[n seventeen hundred seventy-five began.
Our countiy's struggles for the rights of man :
In Massachusetts, firm for freemen's right.
On Lexington's green plain began the fight.
On Bunker's bloody hiU, where Warren feU,
The sons of Freedom strong, their prowess tell ;
And brave Montgomery, with ardor fired.
Before Quebec, 'mid wintry snows expired.
The people spurn their tyrant's hateful sway.
The Royal Governors now flee away ;
10'

114
A youthful nation, (men, both bold and true,)
For Freedom strong, now rises to the view.
1776.
In " Seventy-six," George Third, the British king,
Commands his Hessian soldiers, forth to bring
Their burnished arms, and cross the stormy sea,
To crush a people struggling to be free.
Our fathers now their freedom strive to gain,
Their Independence boldly now proclaim ;
They pledged their " Fortunes, sacred Honor, Life,"
And perUed all amid the deadly strife.
Great Britain's hostile troops in proud array,
New York they take, and onward press their way ;
Our father's fled, but still for Freedom brave.
At Trenton's fight, their bleeding country save.
1777.
In " Seventy-seven," from far Canadian snows,
Behold Burgoyne advancing with our foes ;
Let Bennington rehearse that foe's defeat.
And Saratoga's plains, the tale repeat.
Let Brandywine, ans fathers prowess speak,
And the bright waters of the Chesapeake :
When driven from the land of peaceful Penn,
Death's dangers darkened o'er oiur gallant men.
And while the Patriots forced to quit the field,
Resolved on Independence, scorned to yield ;
" Mother of States, and Statesmen," stUl in thee,
Was fotrnd a shelter for tho noble free.

115
1778.
In " Seventy-eight," from sunny France, a band
Of gallant spirits, gave a brother's hand :
And now, araid the clouds of gloomy fears.
Freedom looked up, and brightly smiled through tears.
Blue Narraganset, in thy rolling bay.
The generous Frenchmen's freighted vessels lay ;
While gallant Steuben, far from " Fatherland,"
In warlike science, gave his heart and hand.
See fair Savannah, sti-uggling with the foe.
Behold within her walls the life blood flow :
Now Carolina's plains were darkened o'er.
With clouds of war, they feel the foemen's power.
1779.
In " Seventy-nine," through want and much distress,
Our fathers still for Freedom onward press :
Red ruin stalks around, the flames rise high,
Norwalk, and Fairfield, low in ashes lie.
O'er deep morass, o'er mountain, and o'er plain,
Led by their brave commander, gallant Wayne,
Our troops press on, at lonely midnight hour.
The fort they gain, their foes they overpower.
See now the red man with the foe allied.
The " Continental " force, they now defied ;
'Gainst SuUivan, their tribes they fight in vain.
Their country wasted, and their warriors slain.
1780.
In " Eighty," Carolina ravaged by the foe,
Beheld her gaUant patriot sons laid low ;
Her army close besieged, and forced to yield,
Charleston now falls, and Britons gain the field.

]16

Comwallis to the South, now bends his way,
Gates he defeats, who flees with sore dismay.
The foe stalks round, with haughty power and pride.
With fire and sword spreads devastation wide.
Arnold, a traitor's perjury is thine.
The sword once laid on Freedoms sacred shrine,
Against thy country's injured cause was turned.
While patriot souls, the foul Apostate spurned
1781
Behold the routed foe on Cowpens field.
By Morgan's gallant band corapelled to yield ;
While proud Cornwallis, forced at last to fly.
And gallant Green's brave band, won victory.
And northward still, the invading forces came,
Invading peaceful homes, with sword and flame,
While once again, fi-om sunny France a fleet,
Appeared our Father's sinking hearts to greet.
Then quailed at last, our country's haughty foes,
Then Freedom's sun, in glorious brightness rose ;
At Yorktoum with humiliation sore,
Cornwallis yields : — the bloody strife is o'er.

117

UNITED STATES.

Colombia ! land of Liberty — home of the brave and free ;
The pilgrim sons of many a clime have found a horae in thee !
Along thy wide-spread shore, the flag of every clime is furled.
And Hope's prophetic eye stiU turns to greet this Western World.

ITAET.

Columbia ! centuries ago, the daring Genoese,
The far off mighty West to seek, sailed over unknown seas :
The pride and power of Italy, since then, have passed away ;
The " Star of Empire" in the West has risen, since that day.
Oh, Italy I thine exile sons, in fair Columbia see
The tokens of a mightier power than ever dwelt in thee ;
The Eagle that unfurled its wing o'er Capitolian dome.
Broods o'er the Western Empire now, as once o'er ancient Rome.

1/8

SPAIIV.

Thy sons, fair Spain, were earliest here, from out thy orange bowers ;
DeLeon sought sweet Florida, thy lovely land of flowers ;
And proud de Narvaez gained thy shore, and with his warrior band
In vain essayed, iu olden time, to conquer this new land.
Then, seeking for the golden stores of whieh the Spaniards told.
Came brave DeSoio with his band, twelve hundred comrades bold
He sought the flowery wUds beyond, and on, still on, he pressed,
Where the dark Mississippi rolled , with calm majestic breast.
What though the haughty Spaniard now, the Indian's dusky race,
To children of a paler brow at last have given place ?
Their sunny homes are southward still ; their naraes are storied o'er
Along the blue Pacific wave, and Mexico's bright shore.

FRANCE.

Where once the wild Canadian tribes were wont of old to roam.
The gay and generous Frenchmen came to seek another home.
By fair Edisto's glancing stream, on Carolina's plain.
And northward, 'neath a colder sky, along the blue Champlain.
Thy sons, sweet France, throughout our land, are scattered far and
wide ;
Their place is seen where crystal waves of proud St. Lawrence
glide ;
By old Quebec's stem fortress rock ; by Montreal's dark towers ;
And where of old the Huge^not sought CaroUna's bowers.

And Louisiana, through her fields, thy fame in music tells.
And where the Mississippi's tide all proudly ebbs and swells ;
And far from France, a New Orleans, the stately Southem Queen,
A home is theirs, and Florida with vales of changeless green.

1)9

ORE AX BRITAIN.

Old England hither sent her sons, in by-gone days of yore.
When gallant Ealeigh sent his fleet to old Virginia's shore.
That whispers, in her name, the fame of England's virgin Queen,
And Eoanoke tells the tale along its banks of green.
While Jamestown wears its laurels yet, Virginia tells with pride,
Of noble sons and statesmen, still to Britain's blood allied ;
And Massachusetts wears it yet her glory and her crown.
That hoary Plymouth rock is hers, a spot of broad renown.
¦Where first the Pilgrim sires set foot, a noble exile band.
Whose sons are scattered far and wide, throughout our happy land ;
Their sails are set on every streara, their feet on every shore ;
They cUmb the mountains, tread the vales, and skim each ocean o'er.

SWEDEN.

Where the blue Baltic laves the rocks of Sweden's mgged strand.
There came from out its forests dark, a hardy northern band ;
A band of Swedes and Fins to seek a distant shore more fair ;
The sylvan horae of peaceful Fenn, and smiling Delaware.

NORWAY.

Tradition tells not when these came, the children ofthe North,
The bold Norwegians, from the land of waving forests forth,
And left their rade memorials, Rhode Island, on thy shore.
The relics of a hardy race, that lingers here no more.
But on New Jerseys fertile soil, along her verdant plains.
Still courses old Norwegian blood, in hardy freemen's veins ;
On Bergen's hills then- homes they rear, and slill they find a place.
Strong, brave and firra for Freedom's rights, the bold Norwegian

ISO

HOEEAND.

Where sluggish streams roU slowly past, in Holland's distant land.
There came to seek these western wilds a brave adventurous hand ;
Their dwellings in a stranger land, crowned fair Manhattan's isle.
And where, past hills and banks of green, the Hudson's waters smile.
Where rolled the " fresh" Connecticut, their vessels on its breast.
Where lies a smiling city now, their fortress they possessed ;
And o'er New Jersey's srailing plains their horaes are scattered wide.
And crown the verdant banks that line the blue Manhattan's side.

GERMANY.

And westward still they also turn, the noble, sturdy band
Of patriot souls and loving hearts, from distant " Fatherland ;"
Old Pennsylvania tells their praise, and on the inland shore
That lines our mighty chain of lakes, 'heir feet have gone before.
And slill the tide comes sweeping in, and o'er the giant West;
The labor of their busy hands, the fertde soil hath blessed ;
They build them there a happy horae, they plant anew the vine,
And in the broad Ohio, find another river Rhine.

Thus let the raighty tide set in, from many a distant land ;
We have for all an ample home, for all a welcome hand ;
And what our land hath ever been, it is its pride to be,
A refuge for the exile still, a dwelling for the free. e.

ISl

INTERESTING EVEiNTS, ANTIQUITIES, &e.

ROUND TOWER AT NEWPORT, R. I. '
On the summit of the hill, on the declivity of which Newport, R.
I., is built, is an interesting relic of antiquity usually denomi
nated the " Stone Mill." Some suppose it was built bythe first set
tlers for a kind of wind mill, others believe that it was a watch tower,
erected by the Scandinavians, or Northmen, long before the dis
covery of Columbus. This last opinion is not without reason, as it
is weU known that about A.D. 1000, a number of Norwegian na
vigators visited our coast, and attempted to plant colonies. This
tower is about thirty feet in height, resting on arches supported by
circular pillars. The top is without a roof, and the interior desti
tute of any fixtures. The stones of which it is constmcted are
small and appear to have been laid in a mortar made of sand and
oyster shells, cementing the whole mass together like a solid rock.
By whose hands erected, or for what purpose, no tradition remaina
to give an answer.
From ofl" this watch-tower's lonely height.
What eyes looked o'er the waters dark.
If.

192
And marked afar, the sail of white.
The plunging prow, the wandering bark 7
Who reared thy mystic wall 1 his name"
I ask thee, but I ask in vain.
Tell me, ye wUd and dusky race.
Who trod these hiUs and shores of old 7
Can ye the mystic story trace
In dark traditions ye have told 7
Silent in death the warrior lies,
1 No sign remains, no voice replies.
Ye stormy winds that sweep on high,
O'er the lone hill, with fitful wail ;
Ye waves that sound your minstrelsy.
Have ye no voice to tell the tale 7
The winds sweep on, the wild wave roar,
No voice wUl tell, on sea or shore.
Was it the fierce and hardy band
Of wandering Northmen, famed of old,
Who lefl; their far off rugged land
Of waving pines, and endless cold,
That helped this ancient wall to rear.
And fought the warrior's battles here 7
Deeds that the bards rehearsed in song ;
Tales that the ancient sages told
Of midnight revels, loud and long.
Of shouts that crowned the warrior bold,
Who drank the life blood of his foes,
And chased the wolf o'er polar snows 7
I ask in vain ! thou canst not tell
Thy story of the hidden past ;
The rolling seas may ebb and swell,
And wildly howl the stormy blast,
StiU shall thou sUent stand to be
A wonder and a mystery ! e. g. i

123

MORTAL SICKNESS AMONG THE INDIANS.
About the year 1618, just before the settlement ofthe
colony at Plym nth, a mortal sickness or plague swept off
the greater part ofthe Indians along the eastern shores
ofthe United States. In 1619, Capt. Dermer, an Eng
lish adventurer, having wintered at an Indian town on
the northern coast sailed southward on his way to Vir-
ginia, and landed at several places where he had been
before. He found many towns depopulated ; in others
but few of the natives remained alive and those suffering
from the disease which appears to have been a kind of
plague, as they showed their sores and described those
of which their companions died.
The mortality among the Indians app jars to have pre
vailed a number of years. In 1622, the Plymouth set-
tiers went to Massachusetts (now Boston) to purchase
com of the natives ; they found them afflicted with a
"great sickness not unlike the plague." It is stated by

l.?4
creditable historians, that of the thirty thousand Indians
composing the Massachusetts tribe only about three hun
dred were left alive. When the settlers ai-rived, in
1620, they found the bones of those who had perished,
in many places left unburied. At Plymouth, which was
forraerly a populous place, every human being had died
ofthe pestilence.
There appears to be considerable difference of opin-
ion with regard to the nature of the disease which
swept off so many of the natives. Some suppose it to
have been the small pox, others, the plague, which
raged at this time in many parts of the world, while
many suppose it to have been the yellow fever, as it was
stated by some of the Indians who survived, that the
bodies of their companions who died were " exceeding
yellow all over before they died, and afterwards."
Whatever the disease was, it appears to have broken
down the spirits ofthe survivors, to that extent, that for
a number of years they made but little opposition to the
settlers. The following occurrences relative to this
pestilence, have been related. A few years before the
sickness, a French ship was wrecked on Cape Cod, but
the men and cargo were saved. The natives, however,
killed all but three or four of the crew and divided their
goods. The men who were spared were sent to one
tribe and another as slaves. One of them learned so
much of their language as to tell them that God was
angry with them for their cruelty and would destroy
them and give their country to another people. They
answered " that they vvere too many for God to kill."
He replied "that God had many ways to kill of which
they were ignorant." Afterwards, when the great pes
tilence came, they remembered the man's words, and
when the Plymouth settlers arrived at Cape Cod they
feared the other part of the prediction would soon be
accomplished.

125

Soldiers reposing by Porter's Rocks.
EXPEDITION AGAINST THE PEQUOTS.
The expedition in 1637 against the Pequot Indians in Connec
ticut, one of the most haughty and warlike tribes that ever existed
in this country was a memorable event attended with remarkable
circumstances. At this time the colony of Connecticut consisted
of three towns, Hartford, Wethersfield and Windsor. The Pequots
having murdered a number ofthe inhabitants and threatened the
destruction of the whole colony, it was determined to make war
against thera. For this purpose ninety raen were mustered at
Hartford, being about half the eflicient force ofthe whole colony.
They were commanded by Captains Mason and UnderhiU, and
were ai;corapanied by Mr. Stone the teacher of the church at
at Hartford, as chaplain.
Previous to the marching of the expedition, tradition says th»
soldiers were addressed in a most eloquent manner by Mr. Hook
er, the minister of Hartford. He told them that they were not aa-
IL*

f 1?6
gemhled by ferocious passions, but to secure safety for their wives
and harmless babes, and above all the liberties, and lives of Christ's
church in this new world. Their eneraies had blaspheraed God
and slain his servants ; you are only the ministers of his justice.
They were ripe for destruction ; their cruelty was notorious ; and
cruelty and cowardice are always united. " March, then," said
he, " with Christian courage, and your enemies shaU fall like leaves
under your feet."
The expedition having arrived at Saybrook fort, Capt. Mason
and his officers being somewhat divided in opinion whether it
would be best to raarch through the wUderness directly lo the Pe
quot fort, or go round by the Narragansett country and endeavor
to take the fort by surprise. In this state of affairs, the officers
earnestly desired Mr. Stone, to pray that their way might be di
reeled, and tbat their enterprise might be crowned with success.
Mr. Stone, accordingly, spent most of the night in prayer, and the
next morning informed Capt. Mason that he had done as he had
desired, and was entirely satisfied that the plan of going round by
Narragansett was the best. The council of officers was again
called, and they unanimously agreed with Mr. Stone.
Having proceeded to the Narraganset country they were joined
by about 200 of that tribe. Frora that place they went westward
towards the Pequots. As the little army drew near the fort ofthe
terrible Pequots many of the Indians betrayed much fear and re
tired into the rear. Uncas, however, with his Mohegans remained
faithful. On the evening before the attack, they arrived at Porter's
Rocks, near the head of Mystic, in Groton, where they encamped.
" The men were faint and weary, and though the rocks were their
pillows, their rest was sweet."
About two hours before the dawn of the 26th of May, the men
were roused with all expedition, and briefly commending them
selves and their cause to God, raarched to the fort, about two
mUes distant. The fate of Connecticut was to be decided by sev
enty-seven brave men. The barking of a dog, when within a few
rods of the fort, aroused the sentinel, who cried out, Owannux !
Owannux .' i. e. Englishmen I Englishmen ! Capt. Mason entered
the fort, the enemy fought desperately, and the conflict seemed
doubtful. Seizing a fire-brand, Capt. Mason set fire to a wigwam
which set the whole fort in a blaze. The roar of the flaraes, the
yells of the savages, the discharge of the musketry formed an aw
ful and terriflic scene. The destruction of the Pequots was terri
ble. Out of five or six hundred only fourteen escaped the fire and
Bword; of these seven were captured. The English lost but two
men ; and about twenty wounded. Connecticut was saved, and
the most warlike tribe in New England defeated and mined.

l!^7

DEATH OF MARQUETTE.
Among the discoverers and raany adventurers who came over to
the new world, some appear to have been actuated by higher rao
tives than worldly gain, or honor. Of this class was Jaraes Mar
quette, a devoted French Catholic raissionary, from Canada. He
was accorapanied by M. Joliet, of Quebec, and five boatraen. This
httle corapany passed through the straits of Mackinac, and then
passed over to the Mississippi, which they explored south, to a con
siderable extent. Through all their difficulties and wanderings.
Father Marquette appears to have acted the part of a Christian mis
sionary, and endeavored to cultivate a spirit of peace and love
among the Indians. On his return. May 18th, 1675, up Lake Mi
chigan, he proposed landing at the mouth of a sraall stream on the
Peninsula, to perform religious devotions. Leaving his men with
the canoe, he went apart to pray, ihey waiting for him. As much
tirae passed, and he did not return, they called to mind that he said
something of his death being at hand, and anxiously went to seek
him. They found him dead ; where he had been praying, he had
died. His companions dug a grave near the mouth of the stream,
and buried him in the sand.

1,^8
Hark, hark ! a voice now calls thee from above,
Servant of God ! tby work is nobly done ;
The mission kind, thine embassy of love
On earth is closed ; thy. final victory's won.
The fragile bark shall bear thee here no more.
Through inland seas, and waters deep and wide ;
'Mid rocky islets, and a rugged shore.
Nor on the rapid Mississippi's tide.
'Mid chilly wintry blasts, and fervid suraraer's glow,
Through deserts wild, thy feet shall range no more.
Or pass the prairie vast, or fields of snow ;
Nor shall thou hear again Niagara's roar.
No brilliant golden dreams did lure thee here
To toil through this dark howling wilderness,
'Twas love that drew thee on, devoid of fear.
Thy God was ever with thee for to bless.
No more amid these earthly scenes to sigh.
Thy feeling heart wUl cease to swell with grief;
The bitter tear no more shall fill thine eye.
At sorrow where thou couldst not give relief.
Oh press me not to criticise his creed ;
Away virith tests of sects, and bitter zeal ;
Did he the naked clothe, the hungry feed ?
And childlike. Christlike, in his spirit feel 7
Yes, yes ! he felt the power of Christ within.
In love, he scattered heavenly light abroad ;
Faithful he lived in this dark world of sin.
He rests above ! he sweetly rests with God. J. W. B.

139

tiered nvusic heard in the Wilderness.

FIRST SETTLERS IN GRANVILLE, OHIO.
The flrst settlers of GranviUe, Ohio, emigrated from
Massachusetts, in the autumn of 1805, and were forty
two days on their journey. Their first business on their
arrival was to hear a sei-mon. The novelty of worship
ing in the woods, the forests extending every way for
hundreds of miles, the dangers to which they were ex
posed, the hardships which they had undergone, with the
thoughts of the horaes they had left, all conspired to make
this time one of deep interest. When they began to
sing, the echo of their voices among the trees was so
different from what it was in the beautiful meeting-house
they had left, that they could no longer restrain their
tears. Like the Jews of old, " They wept when ihey re
membered Zion."
Tt appears that two or three years previous to this time,
that Mr. Reese, a pious Welsh Baptist, had built a cabin

130
a mile or two north of where these settlers were located.
While searching for his cattle, he ascended the hills near
by, and heard the singing of the choir. The reverbera
tion ofthe sound from the hill tops and trees, threw the
good man into a serious dilemma. The music at first
seemed to be behind, then in the tops of the trees or the
clouds. He stopped till he had caught the accurate direc
tion ofthe sound, and then passing the brow of the hill, he
saw the audience sitting on the level below. He went
home and told his wife that God's promises were sure,
and that religion would finally prevail everywhere. He
said, " these must be good people — [ ara not afraid to go
among them." Though he could not understand Eng.
lish yet he afterwards constantly attended their meetings.
Hakk, hark ! what voices rise in sweetest notes,
Borne on the autumn breeze ;
What strain of heavenly music floats
Amid the whispering trees ?
Is it a far off seraph angel song
Comes downward from the skies.
So sweetly swells, and rising >»-»- peals along
In soirit melodies ?
So asks the wondering good man as he strayed
And heard the melting ray
Rise o'er the valley, up the hiU, the glade,
Aroimd his winding way.
For only in these lonely wilds before
His listening ear had heard
The panther's horrid scream, the winds deep roar,
Or notes of woodland bird.

131
It was new England's hai-dy wandering band.
That gathered in these woods.
Sang the sweet hymns of far off native land.
Amid these solitudes.
The dark old forests wild, re-echoed there
The chorus as they sung.
And with their sweetest n#es of praise and prayer
The woodland arches i-ung.
The thoughts of distant home came back again,
The sweet sad memories.
And mournful tears were mingled with the strain
That floated to the skies.
But he who speU-bound paused that strain to hear.
Glad on his way returned
And told his household, one above was near
Whose proraise he had learned.
Oh sweetest tones of heavenly melody,
That on the stUlness broke.
It was our kindest Father's voice on high
That -with your music spoke.
Not in the roUing thunder's awfiil voice.
Not in the Ughtning's glare.
But swelling tones that made the heart rejoice
Proclaimed that God was there.

132

ATTACK ON BROOKFIELD
In August, 1675, soon after the commencement of
Philip's war, the little town of Brookfield, Mass., was
attacked by the savages. The people of the village,
about seventy persons in all, on the first alarm fled to a
house slightly fortified, which was soon surrounded by
the enemy, who, for two days and nights, endeavoured
to destroy the house, or its inmates. For this purpose
they shot burning arrows, and thrust long poles with fire
brands at the ends toward the house. This proving in
effectual, the savages filled a cart with hemp, flax and
other combustible matter, and setting it on fire, thrust it
forward towards the house by long poles spliced to
gether. The destruction ofthe poor people now seemed
inevitable. At this critical time an unexpected shower
of rain put out the fire.

133
Major Willard, at this time, was at Lancaster with a
company of forty-eight horsemen, hearing of the critical
situation of the people at Brookfield, hastened on about
thirty miles, and reached the besieged garrison in the
night. A drove of cattle which had been frightened fi-om
the place by the yeUs and firing of the Indians, happen
ing to be on the route, which Major Willard took, fell
into his rear, and followed him into the village. The
Indians " hearing the noise of a great host," fled like the
Syrians that were encamped against Samaria.
The viUagers in terror fled, dismayed.
Beneath an humble roof a shelter made,
Pursued by foes with deadly hate inspired,
Their herds are scattered, and their homes are fired.
The murderous fiery arrow flies in vain.
See now on wheels they forward send the flame :
God only now can save — on him thay call,
Their cry is heard : the rain-drops quickly faU.
Quenched is the flame, but still the foes draw near,
But God protects them, and they feel no fear ;
A troop of horsemen through the twilight shade,
Are heard far off; they corae to give them aid.
The noise of trampling hoofs is heard around,
The scattered cattle in the troop are foimd.
The savage band now deem that hosts are nigh,
And quick into their native forests fly.
So thus Samaria lay besieged of old.
As in the page of holy writ 'tis told :
The warlike Sp-ian hosts were made to hear
The sound of horses, chariots, thundering near. -
With -wild amaze, they trembling, quickly fled.
The city's saved, the famished poor are fed ;
So thus the Lord will guard with kindly care
His suffering chosen people everywhere.
17

134

DESTRUCTION OF SCHENECTADY.
In the war between England and France, the French,
when they were in the possession of Canada, incited the
Indians to fall on the frontier settlements, and often ac
companied them in their expeditions. On February 8th,
1690, a body of 200 French and fifty Mohawk Indians,
after marching twenty-two days, came to Schenectady.
On Saturday evening, about midnight, the French and
Indians entered the place through a gate which had been
carelessly left open. In order that every house might be
surprised nearly at the same time, they divided them
selves into parties of six or seven each. The inhabi
tants were in a deep sleep, an d the first notice they had
of the enemy was given by their horrid yells at their
doors. In this dreadfal surprise and consternation it was
in vain to resist, and this wretched people became an
easy prey to their enemies after suffering the most horrid
atrocities too shocking to relate.

135
Sixty-three persons were killed and twenty-seven carried into
captivity. A few persons effected their escape towards Albany
with no other covering but their night clothes, the distress of whose
condition was mueh enhanced by a great fall of snow, twenty-five
of whom lost their limbs from the severity of the frost.
It was the hour of night.
And weary eyes had closed in quiet sleep.
And hearts were revelling in the visions bright,
The happy dreams that come' with slumber's deep :
Stern, wintry freezing midnight reigns around
AU, all is hushed in silence, deep, profound.
And far around was spread
The fleecy raantle ofthe winter's snow.
The trees were stiff with ice : all foliage dead.
And the dark earth lay frozen far below.
No faithfiil sentry paced their dwellings past,
Or braved that midnight hour, the freezing blast.
There seemed no danger nigh ;
And thus they slept, unconscious yet of iU ;
Hark, hark ! close by, the savage fearful cry
Bursts on the chilly air, the war-cry shrUl !
Rouse, rouse from sleep ! the foe, the foe is near !
With fearfol shouts, their horrid forms appear.
Hear on the midnight air
A voice of wailing with the savage yell,
The child's faint shriek, the mother's dying prayer,
The piercing cry for mercy wildly swell.
And flashing see, where blood in streams is poured
The Indian's tomahawk, and the Frenchman's sword.
Oh, wild and fearful night !
Oh night of horror ! thus to usher in
That Sabbath day of rest, of calm delight
Which they were wont with praises to begin,
Now scattered wide, the morning's early glow
Showed blackened ashes round, and blood-stain'd snow.

i:j6

ESCAPE OF THE DUSTAN FAMILY.
On the 15th of March, 1697, the Indians made a des
perate attack upon Haverhill, Mass., murdering and cap
turing nearly forty ofthe inhabitants. They approached
the house of Thomas Dustan. who was at that time en
gaged at his daily labor. Mr. Dustan hearing the yells
ofthe savages, seized his gun, mounted his horse, and
hastened to his house with the hope of hurrying them to
a place of safety. His wife (who had been recently
confined) was trembling fer her safety, and the children
weeping and calling on their mother for protection. He
instantly ordered seven of his children to fly in an oppo
site direction frora that in which the danger was ap
proaching, and went himself lo assist his wife. But he
was too late — before she could rise from her bed the
Indians were upon them.

137
Seeing there was no hope of saving his wife, Mr.
Dustan mounted his horse, and rode full speed after his
flying chUdren. The agonized father supposing it im
possible to save but one, determined to seize the one
most dear to him and leave the rest to their fate. He
looked for the favorite child from the eldest to the
youngest but he could not find it, all called him father,
and stretched out their little hands toward him for pro
tection. He could not make a selection, and therefore
resolved to Uve or die vrith them all.
A party of the Indians pursued Mr. Dustan as he flea
from the house in pursuit of him and his children. He
dismounted from his horse, placed hiraself in the rear of
his chUdren, and returned the fire ofthe enemy often and
vrith good success. In this manner he retreated for
more than a mile, alternately encouraging his children
and loading and firing his gun, until they all arrived at a
place of safety.
Mrs. Dustan also escaped in a most remarkable man
ner. After kiUing her infant, the Indians took her and
her nurse off with them to a small island, since called
Dustan's Island, in the river above Concord, in New
Hampshire. After staying here for a short time, they
were informed that they must soon start for a distant set
tlement, where they would be obliged to run the gauntlet
stripped of their clothing. This they determined to avoid
or perish in the atterapt. Being assisted by an English
lad, and arming themselves with tomahawks, they arose
in the night, and when the Indians were asleep kiUed ten
of twelve Indians on the island, took off their scalps,
saUed down the river and made their escape to the set
tlements.

17 •

138

BURIAL OF MR. TREAT.

Oni ofthe greatest snows in this country fell in February, 1717.
It was so deep that people stepped out of their chamber windowi
on snow shoes. Wilh the fall of snow there was a great tempest
which was so violent that all communication with near neighbors
for a time ceased. Great numbers of cattle were destroyed, raany
of whora were found dead standing on their feet as if alive raany
weeks afterwards, when the snow had melted away.
It was during this storm that Mr. Treat, the first min-
nister at Eastham, on Cape Cod, died. He was distin
guished for his evangelical zeal and labors, not only
among his o\vn people, hut also among the Indians in his
vicinity ; and he was the instrument of converting many
of them tothe Christian faith. He learnt their language,
visited them at their wigwams, and by his kindness and
affability, won their affections ; they venerated him as
their pastor, and loved hira as their father. At the time

139
of his death the roads were impassable owing to the
great depth of snow. His body was therefore kept sev
eral days, till an arch could be dug through which it
could be borne to the grave, the Indians, at their earnest
request, being permitted, in turn, to carry the corpse, and
thus pay the last tribute of respect to the remains of their
beloved pastor.
They bore him to his grave,
JNot through the vallies clothed in smiling green,
They saw not round their path the long grass wave,
Nor the blue sky above, vvith smiles serene.
They laid him down to rest.
Not in the church-yard where his fathers lay ;
No waving willows murmured o'er his breast.
No summer birds raade music on the spray.
No ! through the chilling snow,
Whose fleecy mantle far and wide was spread,
When the cold earth lay frozen far below.
With steps unequal, bore they on their dead.
On through the bitter cold,
The Indians bore their pastor to his rest ;
Deep in that snowy mantle's chilly fold.
And the white shroud of winter on his breast.
But in that world of Light,
To which so oft he turned their spirit's gaze,
Trusting that he had joined the Seraphs bright,
That ever dwell 'neath Eden's noontide raya.
Where there .shall be no snow.
No tempest blast, but endless sumraer reigns.
And Life's fair River sparkles in the glow
Of Heaven's own glory o'er these boundless plains !
E. G. B.

140

SWEDISH CHURCH AT WILMINGTON, DEL.
The first permanent settlements along the Delaware
were raade by the Swedes. The successful enterprise
of the Dutch at New Amsterdam, (New York,) awa
kened the attention of Gustavus Adolphus, the illustrious
monarch of Sweden, who now determined to plant a
colony in the new world. His death, in 1632, prevented
his main project, but it was revived, on a smaller scale,
under the minority of Queen Christiana, and a number of
Swedish vessels were sent to the Delaware with colo
nists. They first landed on a spot near Cape Henlopen,
and were so charmed with the appearance of the place
that they called it Paradise. They proceeded up the river
and made a settlement on Christiana Creek. As " the
Swedes never left their religion behind them" they paid
the earliest attention to its institutions. The church rep
resented in the engraving was built of stone in 1698,
ijear the banks of the Christiana. It is said that the
Swedish women assisted in its erection, by preparing
mortar, and conveying it to the workmen.

141

Cer the Atlantic's wilderness of w-aters
From the far Northland, cold, and bleak, and dark.
There carae a band of Sweden's sons and riaughlei-s,
And hither turned their wandering storiu-less'd bark.
Here from the hearths of new found homes repairing.
Thro' long long days of toil, their church ihey reared.
Here women came, their cheeiful labor sharing,
Wilh heart and hand and smile their labor cheered.
Here bowed the matron, and the blue eyed maiden.
And stalwart manhood, smut of heart and hand ;
The " faint old man," with years and labor laden.
The grey-haired pastor of the exile band.
And while the shadows, in the east are speading
Their sombre mantle over earth and sea.
With reverent steps, his lowly pathway treading.
Relic of olden time, I come to thee !
Scathed by the tempest, dark with years, and hoary.
Thy tower is crowned with fading sunlight now.
Pure as the halo, with its golden glory.
Old painters wreathed around some sainted brow.
How changed the scene ! the Swedish sires have slumbered
For many a year, beside this silver streara ;
Those days of old, by hoary ages numbered.
Have fled with all their changes, like a dream.
In the sweet blush, the snowy saUs are gleaming.
Fair Christiana, on thy placid breast.
Floating like white-winged spirits in our dreaming.
Slowly and softly past this place of rest.
Years, that have marked the rise and fall of nations.
Have smiled on Sweden's lone and exile band.
Have seen amid earth's widening generations.
Their beauteous homes that rise in this fair land.
Farewell old church ! ntey coming years long spare thee.
To be as now, a spot of broad renown.
And the green banks of Christiana wear thee,
A fadeless gem, amid old History's crown. c, o. B.

142

CHURCH OF THE BLIND PREACHER.
The above is a representation of a wooden building in
a forest near the little village of Gordonville, Orange
county, about seventy miles from Richmond, Va. Though
an humble structure, yet it possesses a peculiar interest,
from its being the building in which was heard the thrill
ing eloquence of the " Blind Preacher," so enthusiasti
cally described by Mr. Wirt in the celebrated work en
titled the " British Spy." This blind preacher was James
Waddel, D.D., for a long period a Presbyterian clergy
man in Virginia, who died in 1805, at the age of seventy
years. In the latter part of his life he was afflicted with
blindness, and it was during this period, in 1803, he was
heard by Mr. Wirt.
Itwas one Sunday "(says Mr. Wirt,) as I travelled
through the county of Orange, that my eye was caught
by a cluster of horses tied near a ruinous old wooden
house in the forest, not far from the road side. Having

143

frequently seen such objects before in travelling through
these states, I had no difficulty in understanding that this
was a place of religious worship.
Devotion alone should have stopped me, to join in the duties of
the congregation ; but I must confess to hear the preacher of such
a wilderness was not the least of ray motives. On entering, I was
struck with his preternatural appearance. He was a tall and very
spare old man. His head, which was covered with a white linen
cap, his shriveUed hands, and his voice, were all shaking under the
influence of a palsy ; and a fe\k moments ascertained to rae that he
was perfectly bUnd.
The first eraotions which touched ray breast were those of raing-
led pity and veneration. But ah ! sacred God I how soon were all
my feelings changed! The lips of Plato were never more worthy
of a swarm of bees, than were the lips of this holy raan ! It was a
day of the adrainistration of the sacrament ; and his subject, of
course, was the passion of our Saviour. I had heard ihe subject
handled a thousand tiraes. I had thought it exhausted long ago.
Little did I suppose that in the wild woods of America I was to
meet with a raan whose eloquence would give to this topic a new
and more sublirae pathos than I had ever before witnessed.
As he descended from the pulpit to distribute the mystic symbols,
there was a peculiar, a more than human solemnity in his air and
manner, which made my blood run cold and my whole frame
shiver. He then drew a picture ofthe sufferings of our Saviour; his trial
before Pilate ; his ascent up Calvary ; his cmcifixion, and his death.
I knew the whole history ; but never, until then, had I heard the
circurastances so selected, so arranged, so colored ! It was all
new, and I seemed to have heard it for the first time in my life.
His enunciation was so deliberate that his voice trembled on every
syllable, and every heart in the assembly trembled in unison. His
peculiar phrases had that force of description that the original scene
appeared to be, at that moment, acting before our eyes. We saw
the very faces of the Jews : the staring, frightful distortions of malice
and rage. We saw the buffet ; my soul kindled with a flame of
indignation, and my hands were involuntarily and convulsively
clenched. But when he came to touch on the patience, the forgiving meek
ness of our Saviour; when he drew, to the life, his blessed eyea
streaming in tears to heaven ; his voice breathing to God a gentle
prayer of pardon on his enemies, " Father, forgive thera, for they
know not what they do" — the voice ofthe preacher, which had all
along faltered, grew fainter and fainter, until his utterance being

114

i-nt-rely obstructed by the force of his feelings, he raised his hand
kerchief to his eyes, and burst into a loud and irrepressible flood of
grief. The effect is inconceivable. The whole house resounded
w-ith the mingled groans, and sobs, and shrieks of the congrega
tion. It was some time before the tumult had subsided so far as to per
mit him to proceed. Indeed, judging by the usual, but faUacious
stand of my own weakness, I began to be very uneasy for the situ
ation ofthe preacher. For I could not conceive how he would be
able to let his audience down from the height to which he had
wound them, without impairing the solemnity and dignify of his
subject, or perhaps shocking them by the abruptness of the fall.
But — no ; the descent was as beautiful and sublime as the elevation
had been rapid and enthusiastic.
The first sentence, with which he broke the awful silence, was a
quotation from Rousseau," Socrates died like a philosopher, but
Jesus Christ like a God."
This man has been before my imagination ever since. A thou
sand times, as I rode along, I dropped the reins of ray bridle,
stretched forth my hand, and tried to imitate his quotation from
Rousseau ; a thousand times I abandoned the attempt in despoir,
and felt persuaded that his peculiar manner and power arose from
an energy of soul which nature could give, but which no human
being could justly copy. In short, he seems to be altogether a
being of a former age, or of a totally different nature frora the rest
of men. As I recaU, at this moment, several of his striking at
titudes, the chilling tide, with which ray blood begins to pour
along my arteries, reminds rae of the emotions produced by the
first sight of Gray's introductory picture of his bard :
" On a rock, whose haughty brow.
Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood.
Robed in the sable garb of woe.
With haggard eyes the poet stood ;
(Loose his beard and hoary hair
Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air:)
And with a poet's hand and prophet's fire.
Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre."

145

THE NEW HAVEN SPECTER SHIP.
The first settlers of New Haven, Conn., were principally mer
chants from London, men of substance, piety, and raoral worth.
They intended to found a comraercial colony, but the attempt
proved unsuccessful. In 1647, they freighted a ship for England,
with the greater part of their raerchandize, having on board
several of their principal men. After cutting for her a passage
through the ice, the ship left New Haven harbor in the month of
January. She was supposed to have foundered at sea, as she was
never heard of afterwards. The following Spring, no tidings
having arrived of the ship, the pious people of the Colony were.
led to pray " that God would let them know (if it was hi.^
pleasure) the fate of their friends." In the ensuing June, (as it
is related by Rev. Mr. Pierpont,) after a great thunder storm,
about an hour before sunset, the sky being serene, a ship like
that which they fitted out, appeared in the air, for about half an
hour, under full saU,from the mouth of the harbor, directly against
the wind. This strange occurrence drew out raany spectators.
The vessel at length came so near as to be apparently vvithin a
stone's throw of those on shore. At this time her masting
seemed to be blown off ; her hull overset, and finally all appear-
13

146
ances vanished into the clear air. It is supposed by some that
this appearance in the clouds was caused by a refiection of a
ship sailing at the time, on the ocean, south of the harbor.
However this may be, the New Haven people considered it as
an answer to their prayers, whereby the fate of the vessel and
their friends were mercifully made known.
Mid wintry storms and ice, the Pilgrim bark,
freighted with forest riches, moves with the swell
ing sail. The icy barrier strong, removed, she
onward plows her way. She bears on board
the men of high born souls, and courage bold.
Mid rautual prayers and tears, they leave their
loved corapanions on these western wilds, and
venture on the ocean wide.
The wintry blasts are hushed. Fair is the
opening flower that springs to life araid the
withered foliage of the departed year. The sum-
mer's sun advances, and the wide earth rejoices
in his coming beams. The hills and dales, the
forests high and wide, all, aU, are clothed in living
green. The notes of birds as yet unknown, warble
on high at morning's dawn. When evening's
shades appear, myriads of voices from the low
earth, and shady pools around, lull the tired laborer
to repose.
Oft to the south, the pilgrims turn their eyes to
see the swelling sail coming with those they love.
They look in vain ! The ocean rises and falls
again : now roaring, foaming, lashed into fury
by the whirlwind storm, or in calm repose with
glassy surface, brightly gleaming 'neath the noon
tide sun, or in the softer beams of the pale moon
by night.
Summer advances ; and the earth gives promise
of the harvest full. But the hope of the lone
strangers grows lesser still, for those that ventured

147
on the mighty deep.  Their thoughts
arise to Him who holds the winds and waves,
and rules above, below. With due submission
to His will, they ask to know the fate of those
they love.
 The heavens grow black with clouds ;
the lightnings flash, the thunder rolls ; the storm
roars wildly round.  The storm is o'er ;
the winds are still. The herbs and flowers with
rainbow hues display their beauty bright ; tho tall
tree lifts its green head on high, and all the earth
around is clad in beauteous green, and every herb,
and flower, and tree, praise Him above, with fall
ing tears of joy, that glisten in the parting beams
of day.
A sight, now passing strange, appears ! On to
the south, mid cloudy vapors high, a ship with
swelling sails is seen. Onward she comes direct
against th' opposing breeze. Nearer, and to the
wondering eye the long lost ship appears. But
lo ! the shadowy form now fast dissolves. Tho
masts are blown away. The bark so bravely
riding, is seen dismantled, and overturning soon
in shadowy mists ascends on high.
The pilgrim prayer is heard.  They read
its answer in the misty cloud. Their ship is
wrecked amid the mighty waters, and their friends
have sunk into their ocean graves amid the foam
ing billows.  Great God ! unfathomed are
thy ways, yet wc believe thee good and kind.
Though loud the tempest howls, though lightnings
flash, and the loud thunders shake creation wide,
yet calmly on thy throne above, thou rulest all,
and doest aU things well.

148

BURIAL OF DE SOTO.
In May, 1539, Ferdinand De Soto, who had served undor
Pizarro in the conquest of Pern, landed in Florida. He hud
asked and obtained permission of the king of Spain to conquer
Florida, at his own cost. Lured by the hope of finding gold, a
body of upwards of thirteen hundred men were collected, many
of whora were of the nobility of Spain. He penetrated into the
conntry northward of the Gulf of Mexico, and wandered about
in search of the precious metals, exposed to famine , hardships,
and opposition of the natives. In this extraordinary expedition
of more than four years' duration, more than half the men
perished. Having arrived at the mouth of Red River, on the
Mississippi, De Soto died under the weight of his troubles, and
his companions, to conceal his death from the Indians, sunk hia
reraains in a hollow oak in the waters of the Mississippi.
Not with the proud array.
That through the forest in its splendor passed.
The whispering pines, high arching o'er their way.
And the bright banners to the breezes cast.

149
When came the soldier brave,
The cavaUer with glancing sword and plume.
The flower of chivalry, from o'er the wave.
Where Spain's bright bowers in fadeless beauty bloom.
The dark robed priest was there,
Bearing the cross amid that soldier band ;
The trumpet's thrilling voice burst through the air.
And joyous voices haUed this new found land.
There pranced the fiery steed.
The Andalusian charger, o'er the sod.
Proudly, as bearing home to glory's meed.
His lord, the fields of old CastUe he trod.
And sraihng far away.
Wooing them on, still on, to orange bowers ;
In the blue distance Louisiana lay.
And all their path wound through a land of flowers
Not with this proud array.
They bore De Soto near the flowing tide.
From where wilhin his soldier's carap he lay.
And none dare weep when this brave soldier died.
In Mississippi's wave.
Where its dark water's turbid currents flow.
The hollow oak his coffin, and his grave
The river's bed, full many a fathom low.
Where were the visions bright
That bade his followers hearts beat proud and high t
All vanished, bearing wilh them in their flight.
The thought of conquest, power, and pageantry.
So fade the drearas of earth.
The golden dreams of pride, and pomp, and power.
Perish alike with hopes that gave them birth.
The fair, fraU offspring of a parting hour. S. V. B.
13*

160

CHIEF JUSTICE MARSHALL.
It is not long since a gentleman was traveling in one of the
counties of Virginia, and about the close of the day slopped at
a public house to obtain refreshment and spend the night. He
had been there but a short lime, before an old man alighted from
his gig, with the apparent intention of becoming a fellow guest
with him at the same house. As the old man drove up, he ob
served that both the shafts of his gig were broken, and that they
were held together by withes formed from the bark of a hickory
sapling. Our traveler observed further that he was plainly clad,
that his knee buckles were loosened, and that something like
negligence pervaded his dress. Conceiving him to be one of the
honest yeomanry of our land, the courtesies of strangers passed
between them, and they entered the tavern. It was about the
same time that an addition of three or four young gentlemen was
made to their nuraber ; raost, if not all of them of legal profes
sion. As soon as they became conveniently accommodated, the
conversation was turned, by one of the latter, upon an eloquent
harangue which had that day been displayed at the bar. It was
replied by the other, that he had witnessed, the same day, a de-

1.-7
gree of eloquence no doubt equal, but that it was from the pulpit.
Something like a sarcastic rejoinder was made to the eloquence
of the pulpit ; and a warm and able altercation ensued, in which
the merits of the Christian religion became the subject of dis
cussion. Frora 6 o'clock until 11, the young champions wielded
the sword of argument, adducing, with ingenuity and ability,
every thing that could be said, pro and con. During this pro
tracted period, the old gentleman listened with all the meekness
and raodesty of a chUd, as if he was adding new inforraation to
the stores of his own mind ; or perhaps, he was observing, with
phUosophic eyes, the faculties of the youthful mind, and how
new energies are evolved by repeated action ; or, perhaps, with
patriotic emotion, he was reflectingiipon the future destinies of
his country, and on the rising generation upon whom those
destinies must devolve ; or, most probably, with a sentiraent of
moral and religious feeling, -he was collecting an argument,
which, characteristic of himself, no art would be " able to elude,
and no force lo resist." Our traveler remained a spectator, and
took no part in what was said.
At last one of the young men, remarking that it was impossi
ble to combat with long and established prejudices, wheeled
around, and with some familiarity exclaimed, " Well, my old
gentleman, what think you of these things V If, said the
traveler, a streak of vivid lightning had at that moment crossed
the room, their amazement could not have been greater than it
was with what followed. The most eloquent and unanswerable
appeal was made for nearly an hour by the old gentleman that
he had ever heard or read ; so perfect was his recollection that
every argument urged aga.nst the Christian reUgion, was met
in the order in which it was advanced. Hume's sophistry on
the subject of miracles was, if possible, more perfectly answered
than it had already been by Campbell. And in ihe whole lecture
there was so mucft simplicity and energy, pathos and sublimity,
that not another word was uttered. An attempt to describe it,
said the traveler, would be an attempt to paint the sunbeams.
It was imraediately a matter of curiosity and inquiry who the
old gentleman was; the traveler concluded it was the preacher,
from whom the pulpit eloquence had been heard ; but no, it was
the Chief Justice of the United States. — American Anecdotes,

152

DR, FRANKLIN AND THE PICTURE OF THE CRUCIFIXION
The following anecdote of Dr. Franklin, the American states
man and philosopher, is related upon good authority. As the
doctor, after a long and eventful life, lay upon his death-bed,
some weeks before he expired, he requested his old nurse, Sarah
Humphries, of the Society of Friends, to bring into his room a
picture of the crucifixion which he had in his collection. His
face brightened up as he looked at it ; and he s|jd, " Aye, Sarah,
there's a picture worth looking at ! that's the picture of Him who
came into the world to teach raen to love one another !" He
requested her to put it up over the raanlel piece, where he could
see it constantly as' he lay in his bed. He was often limes ob
served looking at it with attention, and it appears that his last
look was directed to the representation of Him " who went about
doing good."
" PiACE it before my failing eyes.
That I may view in silence now.
The suffering victim as he dies.
The streaming side, the saint-like brow.

153
'Tis he, fhe wonderous Son of God,
Who fi-om the Father's throne above.
The paths of earth in meekness trod.
And taught us here that " God is love."
'Tis he, whose yearning heart could feel
The tears, the woes of all mankind :
Who came the sick, the maimed to heal,
And pardon for the guilty find."
So spake the statesman, in the hour
Which closes life's eventful day.
When its bright dreams of fame and power,
Like morning vapors pass away.
Around his brow, the wreath of fame
A nation's hand had proudly placed :
In other lands, a Franklin's name
On glory's brilliant page was traced.
Yet not his philosophic themes.
Nor Science, with enlightening power.
Nor manhood's proud and lofty dreams.
Could cheer like this his dying hour.
No precepts of a by-gone age.
No schemes of proud philosophy.
No ancient hero, saint, or sage.
Could boast of deeds so great and high.
What love so sacred, so sincere !
For enemies, the God-like died !
" Oh ! let me see, and feel him near.
Oh ! let rae view the crucified."

154

BARON STEUBEN AND LIEUT. GIBBONS
The Baron Steuben was a Gerraan officer of distinction under
Frederic the Great, King of Prussia, who carae over to America
as a volunteer, and introduced a railitary system of order and
discipline into the American array. At a review, the Baron
caused Lieut. Gibbons, a brave and valuable officer, to be arrested
and ordered into the rear, for a fault which it appeared afterwards
another had coramitted. At a proper moment, the commander
of the regiraent carae forward and inforraed the Baron of his mis
take, and of Lieut. Gibbons' accute feelings under his unmerited
disgrace. •- Desire him to corae to the front," said the Baron.
Taking off his hat, although raining at the time, he, addressing
the heutenant, said : " Sir, the mistake which was made, might,
in the presence of an enemy, been attended with fatal conse
quences. I arrested you as ils author, but I have reason to believe
I was raistaken. 1 therefore ask your pardon. Return to your
command. I would not deal unjustly by any ; much less by one
whose character as an officer is so respectable."
" After the capture at Yorktown, the superior offi
cers of the American army, together with their allies,

155

vied with each other in acts of civility and attention to
the captive Britons. Entertainments were given by all
the major-generals except Baron Steuben. He was
above prejudice or meanness, but poverty prevented
hira fi-ora displaying that liberality towards them which
had been shown by others. Such was his situation,
when, calling on Col. Stewart, and informing him of
his intention to entertain Lord Cornwallis, he requested
that he would advance a sura of money, as the price of
his favorite charger. ''Tis a good beast,' said the
baron, ' and has proved a faithful servant through all
the dangers of the war ; but, though painful to my
heart, we must part.' Col. Stewart immediately ten
dered him his purse, recommending the sale or pledge
of his watch, should the sum prove insufficient. ' My
dear friend,' replied the baron, ' 'tis already sold. Poor
North was sick, and wanted necessaries. He is a
brave fellow, and possesses the best of hearts. The
trifle it brought is set apart for his use. My horse must
go — so no more. I beseech you not to turn me from
my purpose. I am a major-general in the service of
the United States ; and my private convenience must
not be put in a scale with the duty which my ranks
imperiously caUs upon me to perform.' "
The principal part of the town of Steuben, in Oneida County,
State of New York, was granted to Baron Steuben for his ser
vices in the revolutionary war. He resided on his farm on tbis
tract till his deaih. The annexed inscription to his memoi-y
was formerly on a tablet on the wall of the German Lutheran
Church in the city of New York : —
" Sacred to the meraory of Frederick William Augustus Bwron .Steuben,
a German ; kniiiht of the order of fidelity ; aid-de-camp to Frederick the
Great, king of Prussia; major-genf;ral anil inspector-ijeneral in the revolu
tionary war ; esteemed, respected, and supported by Wa.shington. lie
gave mihtary skill and discipline to the citizen soldiers, who. fulHllin j the
decrees of heaven, achieved the independence ofthe United St.ites. The
highly polished manners ofthe baron were graced by the raust noble feel
ings of the heart. His ^and, open as day for melting charity, closed only
in the strong grasp of death. This memorial is inscribed by an Americnn,
who had the honor to be his aid-de-camp, the happiness to be his I'riuBd.
Ob. 1795.-'

156

THE FAITHFUL INDIAN MESSENGER.
In 1788, a nuraber of the citizens of Massachusetts sent a
Committee into the Indian country of the Six Nations, to treat
with the natives for a tract of land. After the Committee had
arrived it became neces-ary for one of them (Major Schuylei )
to write to the commanding officer at Fort Niagara forh'S assist
ance to negociale the treaty. An Indian mes-ienger undertook
to carry the leller to Niagara, and bring back the answer. In
the meantime, Maj. Schuyler was taken sick, and sent towards
Albany. I'he messenger returned with a letter to Maj. Schuyler,
and not observing hira among the Committee, refused to deliver it
to any one else. They offered him fifty dollars if he would deliver
il ; but he spurned the offer. They then threatened to take it
by force. When this was interpreted to him, he sternly clenched
the letter in one hand, and his knife in ihe other, threatened
-' he w ii'ld plunge it into his own breast before lie would br
guilty of a breach of trust." He was accordingly suffered to go
after Major Schuyler, and perforra his engagement.
Oh ! not alone on Chri.^tian ground
The noblest hearts are found.

157
Not Nature's dark untutored child,
On desert sands, or forest wild.
In God's own image made, retains
Some gleams of brightness mid his stains ;
Some scattered wrecks of the divine.
That in his fallen nature shine.
So with the forest's dusky child.
Though reared in regions dark and wild.
Though known not by a Christian name,
Untaught -what Honor's laws may claim.
His noble soul no bribe can lure.
He holds his missive still secure,
No threats can shake his purpose true,
No dazzling gold can tempt his view ;
Nay, rather than be false, to die
Defending his fidelity.
If this untutored savage heart
Thus nobly acts the Hero's part.
How we who bear the Christian name,
Should view the scene and blush with shame
If from our path we turn aside.
Allured by wealth, or pomp, or pride.
Be ours through life the purpose high,
To nobly act our part, or die !
Like Abdiel, what e'er surround,
" Faithful amid the faithless found."
14

158

GEN. HERKIMER.
The faraily of Gen. Nicholas Herkiraer was among the Ger
mans who first settled the Mohvviik Valley. When the British,
tories and Indians besieged Fort Stanwix, at Rome, Gen. Herki-
mei summoned the militia to march lo the relief of the garrison.
On the Sth of August, 1777, having arrived at Oriskany, he de
termined to halt for reinforcements. Sorae of his principal offi
cers, eager to press forward, began to denounce their commander
as a tory and coward. The brave old man calmly replied, that
he considered himself placed over them as a father, and did not
wish to lead tbem into any difficuliy frora which they could not
be extricated. Their clamor however increased, and their gen
eral being stung by their reproaches, at length gave the order to
" march on." They soon fell into an arabuscade of the enemy,
and a most bloody fight ensued ; the officers so eager for the
conflict were the first to flee. Gen. Herkimer fell wounded in
the early part of the action, and was placed on his saddle against
the trunk of a tree for a support, where, exclaiming, "/ will
face the enemy," he continued for six hours to issue his orders
with firmness and decision.

159
After the battle was over, he was conveyed to his house, be
low Little Falls on the Mohawk, on a litter, '- where," says Col.
Stone, " his leg, which had been shattered five or six inches be
low the knee, was amputated about ten days after the buttle, by
a young French surgeon in the army of Gen. Arnold, and con
trary to the advice of the general's own medical adviser, the late
Dr. Petrie. But the operation was unskillfuUy performed, and it
was found impossible by his attendants to staunch the blood.
Col. Willet called to see the general soon after the operation.
He was sitting up in his bed, with a pipe in his mouth, smoking,
and talking in excellent spirits. He died the night following that
visit. His fiend. Col. John Roff, was present at the amputa
tion, and aflnrmed that he bore the operation with uncommon
fortitude. He was likewise with him at the time of his death.
The blood continuing to flow — there being no physician in imme
diate attendance — and being himself satisfied that the time of his
.departure was nigh, the veteran directed the Holy Bible to be
brought to hira. He then opened it and read, in the presence
of those who surrounded his bed, with all the composure which it
was possible for any man to exhibit, the 38th psalm — applying it
his own situation. He soon after expired ; and it may well be to
questioned whether the annals of man furnish a raore striking
example of Christian heroism — calra, dehberate, and firm in the
hour of death — than is presented in this remarkable instance.
Of the early history of (jen. Herkimer, but little is known. It
has been already slated that his family was one of the first of
the Germans who planted themselves in the Mohawk valley.
And the massive stone mansion, yet standing at Gerraan Flatts,
bespeaks its early opulence. He was au uneducated man — with,
if possible, less skill in letters, even than Gen. Putnam, which is
saying much. But he was, nevertheless, a man of strong and
vigorous understanding — destitute of sorae of the essential re
quisites of generalship, but of the most cool and dauntless cour
age. These traits were all strikingly disclosed in the brief and
bloody expedition to Ori.=kany. But he must have been well
acquainted with that most important of all books — The Bible.
Nor could the most leamed biblical scholar, lay or clerical, have
selected a portion of the Sacred .Scriptures raore exactly appro
priate to the situation of the dying soldier, than that to which
he himself spontaneously turned. If Socrates died like a phi
losopher, and Rousseau like an unbelieving sentimentalist, Gen.
Herkimer died like a Christian Hero."

160

Eed Jacket and his Cabin on the Buffalo Reservation.
RED JACKET.
Red Jacket, the celebrated Seneca Chief, was born in 1756.
His Indian narae was Sa-go-ye-wat-ha, a word signifying one who
keeps awake by magical influence. He was a true specimen of
the Indian character, as a chief, and as an orator. He was the
foe of the white man. His nation was his god. He died on
the Buffalo Reservation in 1839. A short time previous to his
death, he went around araong his people, at their cabins, and
told them that he was passing away, and his counsels would soon
be heard no raore, and the craft and avarice of the white men
would prevail. " Many winters," said he, " I have breasted the
storm, but I am an aged tree, and can stand no longer ; my
leaves are fallen, and soon my aged trunk will be prostrate. I
go to join the spirits of my fathers, but my heart fails when I
think of my people, who are soon to be scattered and forgotten."
His tribe was divided into two parties, one called the Pagan, the
other Christian. He belonged to the Pagan, while his w-ife be
longed to the Christian party. During the laat sickness of Red
Jacket, there seemed to be quite a change in his feelings respect-

161
ing Christianity. He repeatedly reraarked to his wife, he was
sorry he had persecuted her — that she was right and he wrong,
and as his dying advice told her, " Persevere in your religion, it
is the right way."
The home of our Fathers' shall know us no more.
We are passing away from the hill and the shore,
We leave the green meadows, the rock and the stream.
For the days of our glory have passed like a dream.
A nation of strangers is taking our place.
But none will lament for the red man's lost race.
Like the light of the sun at the close of the day,
Like the dew and the mist, we are passing away.
A tree of the forest, no more I shall brave
The tempests of winter, that over me rave.
My branches all withered, my foliage all strowa
I soon shall lie prostrate, decaying and lone.
I go to the land of the Spirits above,
And there shaU my feet through their hunting grounds rove.
So spake the old chieftain, as onward he strayed
Mid the homes of his tribe, by the stream and the glade.
Dark sons of the forest, as widely ne roam.
From the woods and the streams, that of old were your home.
As the homes of the white raan spread wide through the land.
And the forests behind you are bowed by his hand :
May the sunshine of faith on your vision arise,
Which guides to a lovelier land in the skies ;
The hope that is changeless, your twilight illume.
And gild, with its brightness, your path through the tomb.
S. O. B.
I'J*

162

TWO HONEST MEN.
Many years since, two aged men living near, or in the State
of Pennsylvania, traded, or in the common phrase, " swapped
horses," on this condition, that after a week's trial of each other's
animals, the one who thought he had the best of the bargain,
should pay to the other two bushels or bags of wheat. The
time of trial having expired, the two men loaded their horses
with the wheat, and as it happened met each other about half
way from their respective homes. " Where art thou going V
said one. " To thy house with the wheat," answered the other
" And whither art thou riding?" " Truly," replied the first " I
was taking the grain to thy house." Each pleased with' his
bargain thought the wheat justly due his neighbor, and was
gorag to pay it.
Tkub Honesty 's a virtue rare.
Too little seen on earth ;
Many its praises may declare.
But few show forth its worth.

163
" 'Tis naught, 'tis naught," the buyer says,
" The quality is poor,
'Tis worth but half the price," but strives
The bargain to secure.
But when the bargain he has made,
And gained the end in view,
He straitway boasts his skill in trade,
What cunning craft can do.
Two men in Pennsylvania State,
Of Honesty possessed.
Their horses " swapped," but could not tell
Which horse would prove the best
Loving their neighbor as theraselves.
They sought each other's good.
And so with friendly hearts agreed,
This plan was understood :
Should one his bargain chance to find
The best, two bags of grain
Should be the surplus he would bring.
To make it right again.
Each thought his neighbor's horse the beat,
Each proved an honest man.
For each concluded now to act,
Upon their settled plan.
Said one, " I think in this affair
I have th' advantage quite ;
And so in duty bound, I'll go
And make the matter right.'

164
He took his wheat, away he went
His journey to pursue,
When lo ! half way he met his friend
Mounted, and loaded too.
" I'm glad to see thee, friend," he criod,
" As we our word have given,
I find my bargain proved the best.
This grain will make it even."
With much surprise his friend replied,
" My errand is the same,
My trade was best, to bring your due.
Loaded like you, I carae."
How they at last the matter fixed.
We know not ; but 'tis plain.
That mid the tricks and arts of trade.
Some Honesty reraains.

16,')

DEATH OF LIEUT. WOODWARD— Orfgon.
Since the coramenceraent of this publication, the authors, with
many others, have been called to mourn with the widow and
fatherless, for the loss of a husband and father, on the distant
shores of the Pacific. Lieut. K. S. Woodward wis an officer
of much promise in the U. S. Revenue Service, esteemed and
respected by his associates. Above all, he was a decided Chris-
lian, " firm for his Gud to live or die." On account of his nauti
cal skiU, he was entrusted wilh the comraand ofthe U. S. schooner
Patuxent, to cruise on the dangerous coast of California and
Oregon, above San Francisco. On Nov. 9th, 1850, while en
gaged in the perilous undertaking of sounding a passage through
the surf at the mouth of Klaniet river, in Southern Oregon, his
boat was upset, and after an ineffectual struggle in a foaming
sea, perished in the service of his country, al the age of thirty-
four. His remains were recovered, and buried near the place
where he was lost.
Far onward to the setting sun, to where the
broad Pacific waters, vast and deep, foam, dash
and roar, from thence the mournful tidings come !

166
We ne'er shaU see him more ! He whom we
loved so well, lies cold and lonely on that rock-
bound shore !
Far onward to the setting sun,
From the Pacific's rock-bound shore.
Of him we love, the tidings come,
" On earth we ne'er shall see him more."
No warrior's crown, bedimmed with tears and
blood : No rolling drum, speaking of war's dread
trade : nor trumpet voice of Fame, moved thee
onward. No. Duty to those most dear; duty
to thy country and thy God, impelled thee to
this distant sea.
No w<arrior's crown, bedimmed with blood.
Nor Fame allured thee thus from home ;
Love to thine own, duty to God, ,
Impelled thee far abroad to roam.
A seaman's and a Christian's heart was thine.
Generous and brave, with high resolve, thou
didst not fear to own thy Master, though a world
might frown or sneer. On land and sea, 'mongst
high and low, firm to thy purpose, still for God to
live and die !
A Christian seaman's heart was thine.
Noble and brave, tbat knew no fears ;
Thou darest to own God's truth divine,
'Mid high or low, 'mid frowns or sneers.
Thy God did try thee, and he found thee stead
fast still. It is enough. No more thy Master
tries thee here. Temptation shall no more assail,
nor trials move thee more. Man is but mortal
here. From future ills, thy God and Father sum
mons thee above.
Thy Master tried thee — found thee true,
Finished thy toils : thy work ia done,
No more on earth for thee to do ;
The final victory now is won.
A seaman's death was thine ! No mortal
hands removed thee hence. Out on thy ocean

167
home, araid the roar and foam of God's own
mighty sea, the summons came. Vain is the
help, or skill, or power of man. Thy God hath
called thee, for thy time hath come !
A seaman's death on ocean's wave
Was thine, from early years thy home.
Thy summons came, no power could save,
God called thee I for thy hour had come I
High rise the feurful billows, swelling, foaming,
dashing on the adamantine shore ! The sea-bird
screaras above the rolling waters. The winds
howl round, and the vast sea in its turaultuous
roar, joining, will sound thy ceaseless dirge !
High rise the billows 'gainst the shore ;
Tumultuous moans the foaming surge ;
The sea-bird's scream, the sea's wild roar.
Shall sound thy ceaseless funeral dirge I
Safe in the bosom of thy God, we have no
tears lo shed for thee. But who shall break the
tidings dire, to the lone widow and orphans far
away. Their souls were one. Great God! be
thou their strength and shield, through this dark
vale of tears !
Safe in the bosom of thy God,
We have no tears to shed for thee ;
To those who feel thy chastening rod,
A Husband and a Father be.
There rest awhile, my son. On that -wild
and rugged shore, angelic beings watch thy dust.
When the last trump shall sound, and the roll-call
from the Book of Life is heard, then wilt thou
answer frora thy lowly "bed, and in the twinkling
of an eye, wilt rise and stand among the chosen
ones of God !
There rest, my brottier, on that shore.
Till Life's roU-call shall waken thee ;
Thy form all glorious, up shall soar,
Forever with thy God to be. J. w. B. and s. o. a.

168

-'•il *5~-:

^\ ..-^-.-

4*^"^'

Harrison House, Vincinnes, Ind, the place of the iutervicw between TeeumBek
and General Harrison.
TECUMSEH, THE INDIAN CHIEFTAIN.
The celebrated Tecumseh was the son of a Shawnee
Chieftain, and was born it is stated at Piqua, Clarke Co.,
Ohio, about the year 1768. — Like Napoleon, in his boyish
pastime he showed a passion for war, and was soon acknowl
edged as a leader among his tribe, by whom he was loved
and respected, having great power and influence over them.
In the spring of 1810, Gen. Harrison (afterwards Presi
dent of the U. S.) being Governor of the Northwestern Ter
ritory, resided at Vincennes, the seat of government.
Having learned that Tecumseh had been visiting the Indian
tribes along the valleys of the Illinois and Wabash, for the
purpose of uniting them against the whites, invited him to
meet him in council.
Gov. Harrison, the officers of the territory, some of the
principal inhabitants, with a, military company, made suit
able preparations to receive their distinguished visitor.
The council was held in an open lawn before the Governor's

169
house, in a grove of trees which then surrounded it, a few
which, with the house, are now remaining. At the time
appointed, Tecumseh with some fifteen or twenty warriors,
made their appearance. As he approached the elevated
platform on which the Governor and his officers were seat
ed, the Governor invited him through his interpreter, to
come forward and take a seat with him and his counsellors,
premising the invitation by saying " It was the wish of
their ' Great Father,' the President of the United States,
that he should do so." The Chief paused for a moment af
ter these words were uttered, and raising his tall form to
its greatest height, surveyed the Iroops and the crowd
around him. Then for a moment fixed his keen eyes on
the Governor, turned them to the sky above, with his sin
ewy arm pointed towards the heavens, and with a lone and
manner indicative of scorn and contempt for the paternity
assigned him, said in a clarion voice heard throughout the
whole assembly :
" Jfjr Father'! — ?%« sun is my father — the earth is my
mother — and on her bosom will I recline." Having finish
ed, he stretched himself with his warriors on the green
sward. The effect, it is said was electrical, and for some
moments there was perfect silence.
The Govemor then informed him, that he understood that
he had complaints to make of injuries done the Indians,
and that he, (Tecumseh,) asked redress for grievances. To
this, he would reply, that he felt disposed to hear all just
complaints and redress all wrongs. That as between him
self and so great a warrior as Tecumseh, there should be no
concealment but every thing should be done " under a clear
sky and open path."
Tecumseh arose as soon as the Governor had finished.
Noble in forth, dignified but graceful, he seemed the perfect
orator. In a voice at first low but musical, he commenced
his reply. As he warmed with his subject, his clear and
" trumpet-like" tones could be heard at a great distance.
Perfect silence prevailed, except when his warriors gave
their gutteral assent to some eloquent recital of the red
man's wrongs and the white man's injustice. Fully ac
quainted with the hislory and traditions of the Indians, he
in a speech which occupied an hour in the delivery, recap-
15

110
itulated the wrongs of the red man, from the massacre of
,the Moravian Indians, during the revolutionary war down
to the time he had met the Governor in council.
Governor Harrison "in his reply stated that the charges
made by Tecumseh of bad faith against the government
were unfounded. That in all their dealings with the red
men they had always been governed by strict rules of right
and justice. That the government had a right to purchase
lands of the Miamis who were the re.il owners, being a dif
ferent people from the Shawnees who had no right to inter
fere. The interpreter commenced explaining the speech to
Tecumseh, who after listening to a portion of it, sprung to
his feet and began to speak with great vehemence of
manner, and told the interpretor to tell the Governor that
" he lies." When this was made known, the Governor told
Tecumseh " he would hold no further council with him,"
and the meeting broke up. Upon Tecumseh niaking an
apology the next day for his language, the council was con
tinued. At its conclusion, the Governor asked if there
would be any danger to the person who had been appointed
to run the boundary line around the lands recently pur
chased. Tecumseh, although surrounded by a force four
times the number of his own, flrm and intrepid informed him
it would be at the peril of their lives. Then said the Gov
ernor, " the United States will support their claim by the
sword," " So be it," was the stern and haughty reply of
the "Shawnee Chieftain," as he took his leave and termi
nated the last conference between two of the most celebra
ted men of the West.
Upon the breaking out of the war of 1812, between the
United States and Great Britain, Tecumseh joined the lat
ter. At the battle of the Tharaes, in Upper Canada, be
tween Gen. Harrison and Gen. Proctor, the latter was as
sisted by a body of 1,200, or 1,500 Indian warrians led on
by Tecumseh. While the battle raged, his terrible voice
was heard encouraging his warriors ; he fell at their head,
and with him fell the last hope of our Indian enemies. " He
was endowed with a powerful mind, and the soul of a hero.
There was an uncommon dignity in his countenance and
manners, and by the former he could be only distinguished
even after death, among the slain, for he wore no insignia
of distinction."

171

' - The Slave Boy and hia Teacher..
" OUR FATHER."
In those States where Slavery is established by la'w, it is
deemed unsafe to teach the slaves to read. Accordingly, laws
are passed to punish those who make the attempt. Persons,
therefore, who wish to give religious instruction to these poor
people, must do it oraUy, i ». by word of month. On one oc
casion, while the instructor was teaching a little slave boy the
" Lord's Prayer," he was directed to repeat the words- after
him. The teacher began with the two first words, " Our Fa
ther." " What," said the slave boy, addressing hia teacher, " is
he your Father ?" " Certainly," said the teacher. " And ia he
mine too," asked the boy. " Yes," was the reply. " Then we
are brothers," replied the boy ; a logical deduction from premi-
Bea which cannot be set aside. If indeed then we are all
brethren, a brother's treatraent is due to our fello'w-man, even
if his skin is of a darker shade than our own.

Is he your Father? is he truly mine?
'"Tis true," the teacher said, "'tis thus we're taught,"
" If we ono Father have," the slave boy said,
" Then surely are we brothers, are we not f"

172
Reasonings like this, we all should truly see.
Nor dare discard our mighty sovereign's word ;
Clear as the noon-day's sun, his precepts be —
He is our loving Father, Maker, God.
Why should we feel above the lowly poor.
And give no friendly hand to help him rise ;
Did not " Our Father " make his colored skin —
Then let us not his work on earth despise.
Then give to him, a brother's treatment, kind :
Oppress, discard him not, and do not fear.
To do thy duty toward thy fellow-men,
Though fools may laugh, and proud oppressors sneer.
What though he's poor, and has a darken' d skin.
He has a soul like thine, of priceless worth ;
If proud and haughty ; thou art poor and vile.
If Christian ; he's a nobleman by birth.
To put to everlasting shame, the sin,
'Mongst mortals vile, the sin of human pride.
Our sovereign Lord was in a stable born.
Despised ; and like a malefactor died.
Father of all ! we on thy footstool dwell, —
0 make us all our every duty see : —
Crush down our foolish, hateful, cruel pride.
And Christ- like, let our every action be.

173

Tfu dying Union Soldier attended hy a Confederate.
THE UNION AND THE COXFEDERATE SOLDIER.
In the Secession War, when raging in Virginia, a Union
Soldier, mortally wonnded, lay on the baltle field in a dying state,
while die enemy was passing by. FeeUng his end approaching,
he called to some one passing by. Upon coming to the i-pot where
he lay, he earnestly inquired if there was any Christians among the
Confederate soldiers; it so, he wished one would come to his side.
Such an one was found, and he was directed by his superior to
attend ihe dying soldier in his last momenta. These two soldiers,
though widely diffi-rent frora each other as far as worldly interests
were concerned, found themselves, as Christians, closely united.
The dying Unionist, as Iii:. brother Christian was earnestly praying
for hira, forgetting irll worldly differences, grasped his hand and
held it till he departed, as a token of union and love.

The murderous conflict now has past.
And left the soldier in his gore ;
His life-blood flows, he sinks apace.
And far off friends he'll see no more.
15*

174
Dread hour I to take our final leave.
Of all below we hold most dear ;
To wing our flight to unknown worlds.
And at God's judgment bar appear.
No thoughts to spend on human strife ;
Our dying soldier looks above,
Where hateful scenes can never rise.
And naught appears but heavenly love.
" 0 how I want God's people near.
And all the love of Christ to feel,
To meet me in this trying hour.
And humbly by my side to kneel."
'Twas thus the Christian soldier felt,
And soon his prayer was heard on high, —
A foeman seen in battle strife.
Doth now appear a brother nigh.
" Give me thy hand, my brother kind.
We two are in sweet unity ;''
'Twas thus the dying soldier spoke —
" One, ever one ! so let us be."
A blessed hope sustains us here.
While passing through this world of sin ;
We rise above all party hate,
And feel the love of Christ within.

175

DEATH OF GEN. MITCHELL.
Maj. Gen. 0. M. Mitchell, coramander of the Department of
the South was one of the noblest, accomplished and ef
ficient officers in the United States army in the Secession War.
Previous to the breaking out of the hostilities he had devoted
himself to Astronomical pursuits. By the lectures he gave in
the most prominent places in our land on this sublime science,
he acquired a reputation, it is believed, superior to all others
who have ever spoken on this subject in this country. Above
all, he was a devoted Christian. Although having no prede-
lictions for military service, yet from patriotic motives he was
induced to make great personal sacrifices, and offer his services
to his country in her hour of peril. His military career was
of the first order, striking and efficient. At all proper times
and occasions, he assembled his comraand, and as one fellow-
being to another, urged the importance of a religious life.
The scene presented of a military chieftain in the open air, in
wild and mountainous districts, as an ambassador from Heaven
to those under him, was one of surpassing interest and sub
liraity. When ordered to Hilton Head, near Charleston, S. C,
he found the poor slaves (or contrabands as they are called)

176
subject to ill-treatment from the prejudiced whites. His first
work, almost, was to see to their comfort. He erected houses
for them away from the soldiers' camp. A church was erected
for them, and he was at its dedication and spoke to them as a
kind father to his children. When striken down by the yel
low fever, he was not only calm and resigned, but triumphant
in the hopes of rederaption. When his speech had failed, his
eyes were turned upward, and he pointed towards Heaven.
He expired October SOth, 1862.
Amid the distant realms on high of starry light.
Immensity above, around, abroad,
And worlds before unknown, bring to our sight,
'Twas thine the lot, to show these works of God. —
His country calls I on to the rescue fly I
Foemen move on, draw near with purpose dire.
Our Hero in this cause, fears not to die,
Standing for right, and martyr-like expire !
While moving 'mid the scenes of warring strife
The Christian Hero tells of joys above ;
Points out the pathway to the realms of Life ;
Invites, entreats, persuades with Christian love.
Eyes to the blind ; feet to the helpless lame -,
This was thy heavenly mission here : —
In noble, heavenly work like this,
Too few alas I in this dark world appear.
Dark was the hour, when snatch'd from us below.
One fit to live amid the worlds on high ;
But since, Great God I thou wiliest so ;
Low at thy feet, we would submissive lie.- — -
Soldier of Christ ! thy work is nobly done :
The order comes 1 retire from flelds of strife :
The conflict's past ! the final victory's won :
Receive thy erown of glory, Heavenly Life 1 —
Hear, 0 most High ! our earnest, constant cry ;
Protect us I save us I when our foes draw near :
0 may our country's hosts on thee rely,
And Christian Leaders in our ranks appear.

177

L

sinking of the Monitor off Cape Halteras,
THE IRON-CLAD MONITOR.
One of the most important events in naval history is the con
flict between the iron clad Confederate steamer Merrimac and
the U. S. iron clad boat the Monitor, at the" mouth of James
River, Virginia, March 9th, 1862. The Monitor was built un
der peculiar circumstances. Washington was blockaded — a
Confederate fleet threatened it, and the Confederate iron clad
Merriraac was almost ready to ruin our wooden raen-of-war,
towards the close of 1861. To meet this formidable ship a
kind of raft boat was constructed by Capt. Ericsson, in which
the crew were below the water Une, except those who worked
the two guns placed in the revolving turret, placed on the iron
clad deck which appeared a few inches above the water.
The Merrimac commenced her work of destruction by sink
ing the frigate Curaberland, and burning the Congress, she then
proceeded to destroy the Minnesota. At this critical time,
-when all hearts were filled with dismay, the Monitor arrived
from New York, and by a few well directed shots forced her to
retire. This was considered by many, as a special interposition of

178
Providence, as the Merrimac never afterwards committed any
depredations, and was finally destroyed to prevent her frora
falling into the hands of the Unionists. The Monitor after un
dergoing some repairs, at the close of the year, set forward on
a Southern expedition, manned with a force full of hope and
brilliant expectations. But Divine Providence oi'dered other
wise. When towed by the gunboat Rhode Island, during a
violent storra, off Gape Hatteras, she sprang a leak, and with
five officers and twelve raen, sunk down and perished amid
the mighty waters, Dec. 81, 1862.
Our forlorn hope was like a David sent.
To meet our foe in our extremity ;
Who like Goliath clad in armor strong: —
Vanquished he falls ; the boasting foemen flee.
Our Monitor, a nation's boast and pride,
Goes forth again to meet the stubborn foe,
Onward she presses round the stormy Cape,
Battling with winds above, and foaming waves below.
But man is weak 'mid elemental strife.
Weak is his power, and vain his boasted skill : —
When God directs the storm, the swelling tide.
And stormy winds, fulfil His sovereign will.
Our Monitor ; brave ship, the nation's pride,
A grateful people will thy loss deplore ;
Thy mission guided by a mighty arm
Has been performed ; no one shall view thee more.
Save us from trusting to an arm of flesh.
But let us put our trust, 0 Lord, in thee ;
O hear our prayer, when dangers press around.
And always thus, our helper, guardian, be.

179

Capt. Willard on the field of Antietam, Sept. 16, 1862.
THE SOLDIER'S LAST LETTER.
War is a great evil, but as men now are, it seems unavoidable.
The soldier who engages in it, if actuated by Christian principles
is in a mission, one of thi highest and nobleat on earth, and is as
much a rainister of God, as he who preaches salvation to a lost
race. If he falls in the defence of the right, he falls a martyr to
aave his country, and imitates Him from Heaven who gave his
life for the world. On the eve of battle, standing on the verge of
two worlds, liable to be ushered in a moment into that unseen and
unknown, tries the inmost soul, and is indeed an honest and sol
emn hour. The true soldier now thinks of " sacred home" he
leaves his last message ; or writes his " last letter" to those he
loves. An example of this is found in the diary kept by Capt.
S. F. WiUard of Madison, Conn, who fell in the battle of Antie
tam, Sept. 1862. Within a few minutes afier he had made his
last entry in his diary, he was killed by a shot from the eneray.
He was a professed Christian, and an ardent lover of his country.
He entered its service, from the •highest motives of exalted
patriotism. Middletown Valley, Monday moming, Sept. 1 5, 1862.
These may be my last words ; if so, they are these : — I hare full faith in
Jeaua Christ, my Saviour ; I do not regret that I have fallen in defence of

180
my country ; I have loved you truly, and know that you have loved me,
and in leaving this world of sin, I go to another and better one, where I am
confident I shall meet you. I freely forgive all my enemies, and ask them
for Christ's sake, to forgive me. If my body ehould ever reach home, let
there be no ceremony ; I ask for no higher honor than to die for my country,
lay me silently in the grave, imitate my virtues, and forgive all my errors. — ¦
I prefer death in the cause of my country, to life in sympathy with its ene
mies. And now my precious wife, good bya. — May the grace of God sus
tain you, and we will meet at last in heaven Signed in the valley on the
battle.ground near Bolivar Heights, Md. SAMUEL FRANCIS WILLARD.
Tuesday morning, — later.
The battle has commenced; one man killed within 20 rods of me, by
a shell. My faith ia in God ; If I die, I die in the faith of my Lord and
Savior Jeeus Christ, who died that I might liva. We are now to go into
battle. God save my men, God save me, God save the United Statee of
America, God bless you my own dear wife, and may we meet at last in
Heaven where there will be no war or sin.
The death storm thunders near I my Saviour, God,
In this dread hour I put my trust in thee : —
Thy will I know not, but I know and feel,
Safe as Almighty power, would have me be.
Sulphureous clouds darken the sky above,
The rolling drum, the bugle's warlike blast,
The thundering cannon, and the clash of steel
Are raging : foes and friends are falling fast.
While on the verge of death, my soul to thine.
Dearest on earth, is with thee hovering near ;
Weep not : if now I leave this world of sin.
My faith is strong in God : I feel no fear.
My enemies I freely now forgive,
Trusting they will do the same by me,
I ask no higher, nobler honor here,
My country I than to give up life for thee.
The battle comes ! Great God on thee I call.
My men, my country, thou our Savior be, —
I fall : — Safe in the bosom of my God
My spirit waits, 0 deft-est one for theo.

IMPOETANT EVENTS
IN THE
 ^^••^^ 
I860.

December 20. — Ordinance of Se-
ession unanimously adopted by
he South Carolina Convention at
/harleston.— Dec. 24. South Caro-
ina delegation withdraw from U
I. Congress. — Dec. 26. Major An-
lerson with 60 men withdraws from
l^ort Moultrie to Fort Sumter. —
Dec. 30. United States Arsenals in
South Carolina seized.

Confederate Ftoff.

1861.

January 3. — Fort Pulaski near Savannah, seized by
order of the Governor of Georgia. — Jan. 3. South Carolina
Commissioners at Washington return to Charleston. — Jan.
4. National Fast. United States Arsenal at Mobile seized.
Jan. 9. Star of the West, with reinforcements for Fort
Sumpter fired on and forced to return. — Jan. 10. Secession
of Mississippi and Florida. — Jan. 11. Alabama secedes.
Jan. 19. Georgia secedes. — Jan. 25. Louisiana secedes.
February 1. — Texas secedes. — Feb. 4. Southern Con
vention at Montgomery, Md. — Feb. 9. Jefferson Davis
elected President, and A. H, Stephens Vice-President of
the Confederate States of America. — Feb. 25. News re
ceived of the treason of Twiggs at Texas.
March IL — Constitution of the "Confederate States"
unanimously adopted by a Congress at Montgomery, Ala.
16

182

April 13. — Fort Sumter with a garrison of 100 men
under Major Anderson, surrendered after a bombardment

Attack on Fort Sumter.
of 34 hours. — April 15. President Lincoln calls for 75,000
men. Tremendous excitement. — April 19. Massachusetts
6 th Regiment assailed by a mob ; 3 soldiers killed and sev
eral of the mob. Blockade of the Southern ports. — April
20. Gosport Navy Yard near Norfolk burnt, including ships,
frigates, &c , mounting over 400 guns.
May. 3. President Lincoln calls for volunteers to serve
for three years.— May 22. Seat of the Confederate Govern
ment transferred from Montgomery to Richmond. — May 24.
First movement of United States forces into Virginia. Col.
Ellsworth killed at Alexandria. About thirty millions of
dollars raised in various States to sustain the Union.
June 3. — Gen. Beauregard in command of the Confed
erate troops at Manasses Junction. — June 12. Harpers'
Ferry abandoned by the Confederate troops. Union Con
vention at Wheeling; Government of Virginia re-organ
ized; T, H. Pierrepont, Governor. — June 28. Marshall
Kane, chief police offlcer in Baltimore, arrested.
July 4. — Meeting of United States Congress. A Na
tional Loan of $250,000,000 authorized.— July 21. Battle
of Bull Run ; Federal troops routed with the loss of 481
killed, 1011 wounded and 1216 missing; 25 cannon and
2500 muskets taken. Gen. McClellan arrives at Washing
ton, to take command of the army of the Potomac.
August 1. — Gen. Fremont at St. Louis, commander of

18S

the Western army. — Aug. 10. Battle near Springfield, Mo.
Gen. Lyon killed ; Federal forces retired to Rolla with a
loss of 223 kiUed and 721 wounded. — Aug. 28. Hatteras
Inlet, N. C, forts captured by Commodore Stringham and
Gen. Butler. — ^Aug. 30, — Gen. Fremont proclaims martial
law in Missouri ; property of rebels conflscated, slaves
emancipated. Septemher 4. — Gen. [Bishop] Leonidas Polk took posses
sion of Columbus, Ky. — Sept. 11. Gen. Rosecrans defeats
the Confederates near Gauley river, Va. — Sept. 15. John
A. Washington, Confederate, kiUed near Cheat Mountain,
Va — Sept 16. Many of the Maryland Legislature arrested,
their meeting prevented. — Sept. 21. Col. Mulligan with
2.600 men at Lexington, Mo., surrendered to a superior
Confederate force.
October 11. — Com. Hollins with a Confederate Steam
Ram attempts to sink the Union fleet at the passes of the
Mississippi ; unsuccessful. — Oct. 21. Battle at Ball's Bluff;
Union troops driven back ; Gen. Baker killed. — Oct. 31 .
Retirement of Gen. Scott, Gen. McClellan appointed com
mander of the National troops.
November 2. — Gen. Fremont removed from his command
at the West. — ^Nov. 7. Bombardment and capture of the
Forts at Hilton Mead, Port Koyal, S. C, by Com. Dupont

Port Royal Forts Bombarded.
and Gen. Sherman. — Nov. 9. Mason and Slidell captured
by Com. Wilkes of the United States ship San Jancinto.
Nov. 20. The inhabitants of Accomac and Northampton
Counties, Va., return to their allegiance. — Nov. 23. Con
federate batteries bombarded by Fort Pickens, and the
United States ships.

184
December 4. — Ship Island, Miss., occupied by the Union
troops. — Dec. 11. Great fire in Charleston ; loss estimated
at $7,000,000 — Dec. 28. Suspension of Specie payments in
New York. — Dec. 30. Mason and Slidell surrendered.

1862.
January 19. — Battle of Mill Spring, Ky., Confederates
defeated, Gen. Zollicoffer killed. Union loss 246. Confed
erate 349, and large amount of stores, &c.

Com. Yoote's Flotilla bombarding Ft. Henry,
February 6. — Commodore Foote, with 7 gun-boats cap
tured Fort Henry on the Tennessee River. Gen. Tighlman
and 60 men taken prisoners. Three U. S. gun-boats went
up the river to Florence, Alabama. — Feb. 8. Battle of
Roanohe I. N. C, by the Union military and naval forces, un
der Gen Burnside and Com Goldsborough entrenchments
stormed Unionists captured 3 500 stand of arms 75 tons

Battle of Fart Donelton.
of ammunition and 2,500 prisoners. — Feb. 16. Fort Donel-

185
ion, Tenn., captured by Gen. Grant, Gen. Buckner and
14,000 men surrendered. Gen. Pillow and Floyd escaped
with 5000 men. — Feb. 25. Nashville surrendered to the
Union forces.
March 3. — Columbus, Ky., evacuated by the Confede-
i-ates. — March 8. Confederate iron clad steamer Merrimac at
tacks the Union ships in Hampton Roads, the Cumberland

Covflict beliceen tiu Monitor and Merrimac
sunk, the Congress burnt. March 9. The Monitor attacks
the Merrimac and after a contest of 5 hours forces her to
retire in a sinking state.— March 6, 7 and 8. Battle of Pea
Ridge, Ark., Unionists under Gens. Curtiss, Sigel, defeat
the Confederates under Gens. Van Dorn, McCullock and
Price. Gen. McCullock killed.— March 12. Centerville and
Manassas occupied by the Union troops. St. Augustine,

GeiL. Burnside'a Expedition
Fla, surrendered. — March 14. Newbern, N C, captured
by Gen Burnside.— March '23. Victory at Winchester, Va.,
by the Unionists, under Gen. Shields, over the Confeder
ates under Jackson. 16*

186

April 5. — Attack on Yorktown, Va., under the direction
of Gen. McClellan. — April 6 and 7. Battle of Pittsbtirg
Landing or Shiloh, Confederates captured Gen. Prentiss
and most of his troops. April 7. Confederates checked by
gun-boats, and reinforcements under Gen. Buell. Confed
erates driven towards Corinth. Union loss 13,000. Con
federates supposed to be greater. Island No. 10 in the
Mississippi captured by the Union gun-boats under Com.
Foote. — April 11. Huntsville, Ala., taken by Gen. Mitchell.
Fort Pulaski, near Savannah, Ga., taken. — April 16. Sla
very abolished in the District of Columbia. — April 24.
Com. Farragut after a bombardment of nearly a week of

^^^is5-T

Com Farragut passes the Forts below New Orleans.
Forts Jackson and St. Philip, below New Orleans, passes
them, and removes obstructions in the Mississippi. — April
25. Fort Macon at Beaufort, N. C, surrendered. — April
26. New Orleans captured by Commodore Farragut,
with the Union fleet. Gen. Butler soon after takes pos
session of the city.
May 4. — Yorktown, Va., evacuated by the Confederates.
May 10. Norfolk, Va., surrendered. Gosport Navy Yard
burnt. May II. The Merrimac burnt. May 20. General
McClellan's advance reached New Bridge, 8 miles from
Richmond. — May 23. Severe fighting by Gen. Banks' ad
vance at Front Royal, Va. — he afterwards reaches the Po
tomac. — May 29. Confederates successfully evacuate Cor
inth, Miss. — May 31. Battle of Fair Oaks, near Richmond,
commenced. June 1. — Severe battle of Fair Oaks. Union loss during
two days 5,739. Confederates driven out of Strasburg, Va.

187
by Gen. Fremont's force.— June 6. Memphis, Tenn., occu
pied by the Union troops. Great gun-boat battle at Mem
phis ; 7 Confederate gnn-boats and rams destroyed. — June
7. W. B. Mumford executed for tearing down the Ameri
can flag at New Orleans. — June 16. Battle of James Island,
near Charleston, S. 0. Unionists repulsed — June 24.
Evacuation of the White House Landing by Gen. McClel
lan commenced. — June 26. Terrific and bloody battles com
menced before Richmond and lasted about six days. Gen.
McClellan falls back fi'om the Chickahominy to a more se
cure position on Janies River. Union loss in killed, wound
ed and missing, 15,224. Confederate loss supposed about
80,000. — June 27. Gen. Fremont relieved from his com
mand in Virginia Fremont's, Banks', and McDowell's
forces consolidated under Gen. Pope.
July 1. — President Lincoln, calls for 300,000 additional
men, for the army. — June 11. Gen. Halleik assigned to
the command ofthe land forces of the United States. June
15. Confederate iron clad gun-boat Arkansas ran past the
Union vessels and reached Vicksburg. — June 23. Gen. Pope
issues stringent orders against disloyalists in Virginia.
July 25. The President issues a proclamation to all persons
to return to their allegiance in 60 days on pain of confisca
tion, &c.
August 4. — A draft for 300,000 men for 9 months, ordered.
Aug. 5. Baton Rogue, La., attacked; 5000 Confederate
troops under Gen. Breckenridge, defeated. Gen Williams
killed. — Aug. 6. The iron clad Confederate steamer Arkan
sas destroyed by the Essex — Aug. 9. Battle of Cedar Moun
tain between 7000 Union troops, under Gen. Banks, and
12,000 Confederates under Gen. Jackson, who retreated
next day. — Aug. 16. Union troops evacuated Harrison
Landing, Va. — Aug. 18. Gen. Pope commenced his retreat in
Va. — Aug. 29. Battle of Groveton, near Bull Run. Gen.
Sigel's corps engaged. Confederates defeated. Col. Fletcher
Webster killed.
September 1. — Generals Kearney and Stephens killed in
an engagement near Fairfax Court House. — Sept. 2. Gen.
McClellan assigned for the defence of Washington. — Sept.
5. Confederates crossed the Potomac into Maryland near
Point of Rocks. — Sept. 6. Confederate force under Gen.
Hill, occupied Frederick City, Md.— Sept. 7.Bowling Green

188
occupied by the Unionists, under Gen. Ncgley. Gen. Pope
assigned to the command of the army of the North West.
Sept. 10. Confederates approach Cincinnati, Ohio, great ex
citement: 3000 laborers called to the trenches. — Sept. 13.
Gen. McClellan's head quarters at Frederick City. — Sept.
14. Battle of South Mountain, Md. Confederates defeated.
Union loss 2,325. Gen. Reno killed. — Sept. 15. Harper's
Ferry and 12,500 Union troops surendered by Col. Miles.
Sept. 16, 17. Battle of Antietam. Confederates defeated.
Gen. Mansfield killed. Union loss 12,469. Estimated Con
federate loss at South Mountain and Antietam 25,542.
Cumberland Gap, Ky., evacuated by the Unionists under
Gen. Morgan. 4,600 Union troops captured at Munlords-
ville, Ky. — Sept. 22. President Lincoln's Etmmcipation
Proclamation issued, declaring the slaves in any State in
rebellion on Jan. 1, 1863, forever free. — Sept. 24. Conven
tion of Loyal Governors at Altoona, Penn.
October 4.— Battle at Corinth, Miss. Confederates under
Price and Von Dorn defeated. Union loss 9,359. Confed
erates 9,303. — -Oct. 5. Galveston, Texas, occupied by Union
troops. — Oct. 8. Battle of Perryville ; the Confederates un
der Bragg, Polk, Cheatham, Buckner and Anderson, re
pulsed, loss 2,500 Union Gens. Jackson and Terrell kill
ed. — Oct. 22. At Maysville, Arkansas, Union forces under
Gen. Blunt, routed the Confederates ; supposed to be 5000
to 7000 strong. — Oct. 24. Gen. Buell removed, and Gen.
Rosecrans succeeded to the command of the army in Ken
tucky. — Oct. 30. Gen. 0. M. Mitchell commander of the
Department of the South, died of yellow fever at Beaufort,
South Carolina.
November 7. — Oen. McClellan removed from the com
mand of the Army of the Potomac— succeeded by Gen.
Burnside. — Nov. 10. Gen. Rosecrans arrived at Nashville,
Tenn. Nov. 15. A. J. Hamilton appointed Military Gov
ernor of Texas — Nov. 25. Confederate troops 4000 strong
under Gen. Martin, make an unsuccessful attempt to take
Newbern, N. C. — Nov. 27. Most of the political prisoners
released from the forts and prisons of the Government.
December 3. — Gen. Hovey, with 20,000 men left Helena,
Ark. and took possession of Grenada, Miss. — Dec. 4. Win
chester, Va. surrendered to Gen. Geary. — Dec. 7. The Con
federates under Gens. Hindman, Marmaduke unsuccessfully

189
attacked Gen. Blunt's Union forces under Gen. Herron at
Crawford Prairie, near Fayetteville, Ark. Union loss 1000;
Confederate over 2000. Dec. 10. Bill for the admission of
the new State of West 'Virginia, passed. Dec. II. Bom
bardment of Fredericksburg, Va. Dec. 13. Battle of Fred
ericksburg. Union army repulsed with the loss of 8,850
killed, wounded and missing. Gen. Bayard killed. Rail
Road at Goldsboro, N. C. broken up by Gen. Foster. Con
federates defeated with a loss of 400 men. — Dec. 15. Frede
ricksburg evacuated by the Union army. — Dec. 16. Com
mand of the Department ofthe Gulf, tran-ferred from Gen.
Butler to Gen. Banks. — Dec 23. President Jeff. Davis is
sues a retaliatory proclamation against Gen. Butler and
others. — Dec. 29. Gen. Sherman repulsed in an attack on
Vicksburg — Dec 31. The Monitor foundered off Cape Hat
teras.
1863.
January 1. — All persons held as slaves in North Caroli
na, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Arkan
sas, Texas, and parts of Virginia and Louisiana, declared
free, by the President of the United States — number of
slaves declared free about 3,120,000 : number excepted by
it, about 830,000. Galveston, Texas, re-captured ; the Har
riet Lane taken — Jan. 2. Battle of Murfreesboro ; aftera
conflict of three days, Gen. Rosecrans defeats the Confede
rates under Gen. Bragg, forcing him to retreat. Union loss
about 1000 killed, 5,500 wounded and 4000 prisoners.
Confederate loss in killed, wounded and missing, 15,500.
Gen. Carter, with 1000 cavalry, penetrated to East Tennes
see and broke up a portion of the East Tennessee and Vir
ginia Rail Road. — Jan. 8. The Confederates under General
Marmaduke defeated in an attack on Springfield, Mo.- — Jan.
11. Arkansas Post, Ark., with about 5000 men captured. —
Jan. 24. Gen. Burnside relieved from the command of the
Army of the Potomac ; he is succeeded by Gen. Hooker —
Jan. 31. Several Confederate iron clad gun-boats and steam
ers at Charleston, make an unsuccessful attempt to raise
the blockade ; the Princess Royal, a prize vessel, captured.
February 2.— The Ram " Queen of the West," ran by
Vicksburg. — Feb. 3. The Confederates make an unsuccess-

190

ful attack on Fort Donelson. — Feb. 20. The Monitor gun
boat Indianola runs by the Confederate batteries at Vicks
burg ; the " Ram Queen of the West," soon afterwards cap
tured up the Red River. — Feb. 24. 'The Indianola captured
by the Confederates. — Feb. 28. The Confederate steamer
Nashville destroyed at Fort McAlister, near Savannah, by
the Ufiion Monitor gun-boat Montauk.
March 5. — Col. Coburn, with 1,300 men captured by a
superior Confederate force under Gen. Forest, near Frank
lin, Tenn. — March 14. Admiral Farragut with the Hartford
and Albatross, passed Port Hudson batteries.

Attack on Fort Sumter April 7 1863
April 7. — Admiral Dupont with 7 Monitors, 2 guns
each, and two other iron-clads, carrying in all 30 guns,
made an attack on Fort Sumter. This fortification, with
four others having about 300 guns fired 3,500 rounds at the
boats, which at the distance from 300 to 600 yards re
turned but 150 rounds. By obstructions placed in the
channel, the boats were prevented from reaching Charles
ton, and after sustaining a fire from five forts and batte
ries, the most terrific on record, for half an hour, the Mon
itors retired from the conflict. The boats were but little
injured, excepting the Keokuk which sunk the morning
after the action. Loss on the fleet, 1' killed and 11
wounded. April 14. — Gen. Foster in a steamer passes the Confed
erate batteries between Washington, N. C, and Newbern.

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