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AUG 27 1903

LIBRARY

OF THE

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA.

GIFT OF

Class

Source-Readers in American History — No. Ill

HOW OUR GRANDFATHERS
LIVED

Source-Readers in American History — No. 3

HOW OUR
GRANDFATHERS LIVED

SELECTED AND ANNOTATED BY

ALBERT BUSHNELL HART

OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY
WITH THE COLLABORATION OF

ANNIE BLISS CHAPMAN
OF THE WORCESTER NORMAL SCHOOL

WITH MANY ILLUSTRATIONS

OF TH£

> \- 9-

NEW YORK

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
I9O2

Set up and electrotypcd November, 1902.

Norwood Press

S. Gushing & Co. — Berwick &f Smith
Norwood, Mass.t U.S.A.

Preface

VOLUMES I and II of this series of Source Readers deal with
periods beyond the memory of living persons ; but the romance
and interest of American life and American history are not at
all confined to the beginnings, and this volume relates chiefly
to the first half of the nineteenth century. Our grandfathers
and even our fathers passed lives full of interest and of unusual
incidents : the school, the field, the forest, the hunt, the stage
coach, and the steamboat are already remote from our present
generation. Distinct historic incidents are also abundant,
especially during the War of 1812, and have been freely used
in this volume. The selections on American education will be
novel to most children, and represent some picturesque con
ditions, now for the most part outgrown.

Special pains have been taken to illustrate the remarkable
life of the western frontier, now fast becoming only a tradition.
As in the other volumes of the series, nothing has been added
to these extracts, although there are omissions and occasionally
changes of words or phrases.

ALBERT BUSHNELL HART.

CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS,
August, 1902.

112105

Contents

F.'.GE

INTRODUCTION FOR 1 EACHERS

PART I

IN TOWN
PART II

PART III

PART IV

•

143

OUT WEST .
PART V

THE INDIANS

• 173

PART VI

AT SEA

• 2I7

THE ARMY .

PART VII

271

AT SCHOOL .

PART VIII

3-7

vii

INTRODUCTION FOR TEACHERS

THE place of sources in secondary schools is already
assured, and teachers using them are ready to testify to
their incalculable value in teaching history; but to put
sources into the hands of grammar school children is, in
the minds of many teachers, quite another matter. If,
however, sources give vividness and reality to the study
of history when pursued in the higher schools, why may
not the same hold true for elementary schools, provided
the selections are made carefully and are adapted to the
age and understanding of the pupils ?

In my own experience I have found the use of such
sources as Bradford's Journal, for instance, invaluable
both for giving reality to the study of the early years of
the Plymouth settlement and also for teaching children
where to go to settle a disputed point. I have put the
Journal in its antiquated form, as far as spelling and
construction are concerned, into the hands of eighth grade
pupils with excellent result ; it was gratifying to find that,
when two text-books disagreed on some point, the pupils
turned at once to Bradford for aid. Several of my stu
dents who, in connection with their course at the Normal
School, have taught in the grammar grades of the Worces
ter schools, have brought me testimony as to the assistance
they have found in the sources — particularly in connec
tion with colonial history — which they have put into the
pupil's hands.

This series of readers contains sources adapted for use

x Introduction

in elementary schools, and much study of the ordinary
history text-book would fail to do what is so easily done
by these selections. Moreover, it is worth while to make
children acquainted with some of the people who wrote
and from whose works we gain a knowledge of the past.
Furthermore, sources cultivate the imagination, because
they have the freshness of eye-witnesses, and so vitalize
history.

In the preparation of this volume, dealing as it does
with later periods than either of former ones of this series,
fewer changes have been made. Occasionally the spell
ing and phrasing have been modified, but in general the
selections have not been changed in any particular. The
use of this series of Source Readers as a regular reading-
book has been explained in the first volume. I shall
therefore confine myself to suggestions for the use of this
third volume in connection with the formal study of
history, a purpose to which it is well adapted.

When the Revolution, for instance, is studied, selections
1,2, and 3, rich in allusions to persons of that time, will
give an added interest to the work. Then such selections
as Brissot de Warville's Visit to Mt. Vernon (No. 15),
showing the simplicity of Washington's life, and Jeffer
son's Letters to his Daughters (No. 100) give a different
idea of the personality of these men from that gained
from the ordinary study of history. The anecdotes of
Hancock (No. 5) are of value in the same way, and may
also be noted as containing a hint of the feeling regarding
State Rights in 1790.

For illustrating the War of 1812 there is a wealth of
material. The Pleasures of Impressment (No. 73) will
naturally illustrate the causes of the war, while such
events as the capture of the Guerriere can be found both
in poetry and in prose, the latter being the official an-

Introduction xi

nouncement. Most children old enough to use this book
will probably be familiar with the Star-Spangled Banner
(No. 80), but if not, it would be worth while to vary the
reading by learning to sing what should be familiar to
every grammar school pupil in the country.

Practically the whole of Part VII should be used in
connection with the War of 1812. Dolly Madison's letter
describing the saving of Washington's portrait (No. 90)
deserves especial attention. One can fairly see the impa
tience of Mr. Carroll as he waited while the painting was
secured, and can almost hear the tramp of the invading
army. Such a selection as this does more to render con
ditions of war vivid than pages of the ordinary text-book.
Although there are not many descriptions of battle-fields,
two selections are given (Nos. 96 and 97) which show the
seamy side of war. It is worth while, sometimes, to let
children get a glimpse of some other phase than the
heroic. It will be noticed also that testimony from other
than American writers has been sought. Extracts have
been made from accounts by British officers or sympa
thizers (Nos. 89, 92, 96). It is worth while to call the
pupil's attention to this fact.

Another feature of this book which adapts it for use in
history study is the attention paid to the development of
the country. The rude life of one hundred years ago is
strikingly presented in Breck's account of the Mad-Caps
of Boston (No. 4), while Parts III and IV are rich in con
trasts with present conditions. To the majority of children
to-day a Canal Trip (No. 36) is an unknown experience,
and those familiar with the comforts of the modern steam
ship will enjoy the description of an early steamboat (No.
35) and such experiences in ocean travelling as Abigail
Adams gives in her letters (No. 72). Moreover, the life
described is not confined to our section alone ; it ranges

xii Introduction

from the receptions of prominent men (No. 5) to an
account of Philadelphia fashions (No. 6) ; from life in
Mexico (No. 9) to that in New York (Nos. 7 and 13) and
Philadelphia (No. 8); while foreign conditions are touched
upon in such a selection as A Japanese Reception
(No. 86).

Old customs, long since given up, are here brought to
the notice of the pupil for the purpose of adding vividness
to the life of the past. Especially interesting are such
old customs as those described in The Bells (No. 22), and
the old method of celebrating New Year's Day in New
York (No. 13). The accounts of such people as the
Shaking Quakers (No. 19) and the ceremonies at the
Moravian schools portrayed in The Children's Love Feast
(No. 101) are particularly good because of their unique
descriptions.

Primitive life is closest to a child's understanding:
hence the enjoyment of folk-lore, of fairy tale, of adven
ture and struggle on the frontier. The life and customs
of the Indians, with specimens of their folk-lore, are found
in abundance in Part V, while the craving for stories of
adventure may be met with in such selections as the Ex
periences of a Hunter during a Storm (No. 27); Boone's
Adventures (No. 49) ; In a Cave (No. 43) ; and Hewitt's
Escape from the Indians (No. 60).

Every teacher finds that stories of child life appeal
most strongly to children, and where could a more charm
ing story be found than in Sheldon's Incidents in the Life
of a Bound Boy (No. 21), with its pictures of the Thanks
giving festival, the work and play, the food and clothing
of a boy who lived over a hundred years ago ? A contrast
with this home life may be found in the experiences of a
boy at sea (Nos. 75, 82), while the Little Indian Captive
(No. 57) will serve to make the dangers of frontier life

Introduction xiii

real, as well as to show a side of Indian character that is
seldom portrayed.

The accounts of school life are rich in contrasts : in
the Old Fashioned Reading Book (No. 26) with all its ab
surdities ; in Daniel Webster's account of his school life
(No. 1 08), with its list of books and the confession of his
difficulty in making a declamation ; in the picture of the
Last Day of School (No. in); and in the quaint list of
books, of branches taught, and the careful attention to
manners that the Very Young School Mistress gives
(No. 114) there is a wealth of material for making vivid
the school life of the early part of the last century. More
over, we have nearly all varieties of school life given, —
that in the country (No. 114), at a French convent
(No. 1 1 6), at a boarding school (No. 115), and at college
(Nos. 105, 112).

It would be worth while to have a class represent in
drawings the exterior and interior of the District School
of 1833 (No. 109), following the descriptions given. Let
me suggest also that a miniature log cabin be built in
connection with the study of frontier life (No. 47). I
have seen admirable reproductions of the settlement of
Plymouth made with the moulding-board and miniature
houses, the latter copying as closely as possible the rude
houses of those early days. Special topics, suggested by
many of these selections, could be assigned to individual
pupils who could report to the class. Such work is val
uable training both to the one who prepares the subject
and to those to whom it is given. The note-book, a neces
sary adjunct to all such study, will be found especially
helpful in this work.

Let me emphasize, as my last point, the fact that this
book supplies a need. No grammar school history at
tempts to deal at any length with the life of the people.

xiv Introduction

General, and usually brief, accounts are given, but they
lack the reality and the vividness here obtained through
the words of the actors themselves. The life of a people
is a far more important study, certainly for children, than
wars and rumors of wars.

ANNIE BLISS CHAPMAN.

HOW OUR GRANDFATHERS
LIVED

PART I
IN TOWN

i. An American Lady in London

BY ABIGAIL ADAMS (1785)

To amuse you then, my dear niece, I will give you st.james =
an account of the dress of the ladies at the ball of T^ r°[al
the Comte d'Adhemar; as your cousin tells me that London?
she some time ago gave you a history of the birthday
and ball at Court, this may serve as a counterpart.
Though, should I attempt to compare the apartments,
St. James's would fall as much short of the French
Ambassador's, as the Court of his Britannic Majesty
does of the splendor and magnificence of that of his
Most Christian Majesty. I am sure I never saw an Most Chris-
assembly room in America, which did not exceed that
at St. James's in point of elegance and decoration ; France.
and, as to its fair visitors, not all their blaze of dia
monds, set off with Parisian rouge, can match the
blooming health, the sparkling eye, and modest de
portment of the dear girls of my native land.

As to the dancing, the space they had to move in
gave them no opportunity to display the grace of a
minuet, and the full dress of long court-trains and
enormous hoops, you well know were not favorable

2 In Town [NO. i

for country dances, so that I saw them at every dis
advantage ; not so the other evening. They were
much more properly clad ; — silk waists, gauze or
white or painted tiffany coats decorated with ribbon,
beads, or flowers, as fancy directed, were chiefly worn
by the young ladies. Hats turned up at the sides
with diamond loops and buttons of steel, large bows
of ribbons and wreaths of flowers, displayed them
selves to much advantage upon the heads of some of
the prettiest girls England can boast. The light
from the lustres is more favorable to beauty than
daylight, and the color acquired by dancing more
becoming than rouge, as fancy dresses are more
favorable to youth than the formality of a uniform.

There was as great a variety of pretty dresses,
borrowed wholly from France, as I have ever seen ;
and amongst the rest, some with sapphire-blue satin
waists, spangled with silver, and laced down the back
and seams with silver stripes ; white satin petticoats
trimmed with black and blue velvet ribbon ; an odd
kind of head-dress, which they term the " helmet of
The owl. Minerva." I did not observe the bird of wisdom,
however, nor do I know whether those who wore the
dress had suitable pretensions to it.

"And pray," say you, "how were my aunt and
cousin dressed ? " If it will gratify you to know, you
shall hear. Your aunt, then, wore a full-dress court
cap without the lappets, in which was a wreath of
white flowers, and blue sheafs, two black and blue
flat feathers (which cost her half a guinea apiece,
but that you need not tell of), three pearl pins, bought
for Court, and a pair of pearl earrings, the cost of
them — no matter what ; less than diamonds, how
ever. A sapphire-blue demi-saison with a satin stripe,

A LADY OF THE REPUBLIC.

In Town

[NO.

Lord North
was prime

durin-the
Revolution.

sack and petticoat trimmed with a broad black lace ;
crape flounce, etc. ; leaves made of blue ribbon, and
trimmed with white floss ; wreaths of black velvet
ribbon spotted with steel beads, which are much in
fashion, and brought to such perfection as to re
semble diamonds; white ribbon also in the Vandyke
style, made up of the trimming, which looked very
elegant ; a full-dress handkerchief, and a bouquet of
roses. " Full gay, I think, for my aunt." That is
true, Lucy, but nobody is old in Europe. I was
seated next the Duchess of Bedford, who had a
scarlet satin sack and coat, with a cushion full of
diamonds, for hair she has none, and she is but
seventy-six, too.

Well, now for your cousin ; a small, white Leghorn
hat, bound with pink satin ribbon ; a steel buckle and
band which turned up at the side, and confined a large
pink bow ; a large bow of the same kind of ribbon
behind ; a wreath of full-blown roses round the crown,
and another of buds and roses withinside the hat,
which being placed at the back of the hair, brought
the roses to the edge ; you see it clearly ; one red
and black feather, with two white ones, completed
the head-dress. A gown and coat of Chamberi gauze,
with a red satin stripe over a pink waist, and coat
flounced with crape, trimmed with broad point and
pink ribbon ; wreaths of roses across the coat ; gauze
sleeves and ruffles. But the poor girl was so sick
with a cold, that she could not enjoy herself, and we
retired about one o'clock without waiting for supper, by
which you have lost half a sheet of paper, I dare say.

I cannot close without describing to you Lady
North and her daughter. She is as large as Captain
Colton's wife, and much such a woman, with a much

NO. 2] Presentation 5

fuller face, of the color and complexion of Mrs.
Colton, who formerly lived with your uncle Palmer,
and looks as if porter and beef stood no chance
before her; she was dressed in white satin, trimmed
with scarlet ribbon. Miss North is not so large, nor
quite so red, but has a very small eye, with the most
impudent face you can possibly form an idea of,
joined to manners so masculine that I was obliged
frequently to recollect that line of Dr. Young's,

" Believe her dress ; she's not a grenadier,"

to persuade myself that I was not mistaken.

Thus, my dear girl, you have an account which
perhaps may amuse you a little. You must excuse
my not copying; I fear, now, I shall not get nearly
all my letters ready, — my pen very bad, as you see ;
and I am engaged three days this week, — to a rout
at the Baroness de Nolken's, the Swedish minister's,
to a ball on Thursday evening, and to a dinner on
Saturday. Do not fear that your aunt will become
dissipated, or in love with European manners ; but,
as opportunity offers, I wish to see this European
world in all its forms that I can with decency. I
still moralize with Yorick, or with one more expe
rienced, and say, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity."

2. Presentation at St. James

BY ABIGAIL ADAMS (1785)

CONGRATULATE me, my dear sister, it is over. I
was too much fatigued to write a line last evening.
At two o'clock we went to the circle, which is in the
drawing-room of the Queen. We passed through

6 In Town [NO. 2

several apartments, lined as usual with spectators
upon these occasions. Upon entering the antecham
ber, the Baron de Lynden, the Dutch Minister, who
has been often here, came and spoke with me. A
Count Sarsfield, a French nobleman, with whom I
was acquainted, paid his compliments. As I passed
into the drawing-room, Lord Carmarthen and Sir
Clement Cotterel Dormer were presented to me.
Though they had been several times here, I had
never seen them before. The Swedish and the Polish
ministers made their compliments, and several%other
gentlemen ; but not a single lady did I know until the
Countess of Effingham came, who was very civil.

There were three young ladies, daughters of the
Marquis of Lothian, who were to be presented at the
same time, and two brides. We were placed in a
circle round the drawing-room, which was very full,
I believe two hundred persons present. Only think
of the task ! The royal family have to go round to
every person, and find small talk enough to speak to
all of them, though they very prudently speak in a
whisper, so that only the person who stands next
you can hear what is said. The King enters the
room, and goes round to the right ; the Queen and
Princesses to the left. The lord in waiting presents
you to the King ; and the lady in waiting does the
same to her Majesty.

King George The King is a personable man, but, my dear sister,
he has a certain countenance, which you and I have
often remarked ; a red face and white eyebrows.
The Queen has a similar countenance, and the numer
ous royal family confirm the observation. Persons
are not placed according to their rank in the drawing-
room, but promiscuously ; and when the King comes

No. 2]

Presentation

in, he takes persons as they stand. When he came
to me, Lord Onslow said, " Mrs. Adams ; " upon
which I drew off my right-hand glove, and his Maj
esty saluted my left cheek ; then asked me if I had
taken a walk to-day. I could have told his Majesty
that I had been all the morning preparing to wait
upon him; but I replied, " No, Sire." " Why, don't
you love walking ? " says he. I answered, that I was
rather indolent in that re
spect. He then bowed,
and passed on. //y

It was more than two
hours after this before it
came to my turn to be pre
sented to the Queen. The
circle was so large that the
company were four hours
standing. The Queen
was evidently embarrassed
when I was presented to
her. I had disagreeable
feelings too. She, how
ever, said, " Mrs. Adams,
have you got into your house ? Pray, how do you
like the situation of it ? " Whilst the Princess Royal
looked compassionate, and asked me if I was not
much fatigued ; and observed that it was a very full
drawing-room. Her sister, who came next, Princess
Augusta, after having asked your niece if she was
ever in England before, and her answering " Yes,"
inquired of me how long ago, and supposed it was
when she was very young. And all this is said with
much affability, and the ease and freedom of old
acquaintance.

PRINCESS AUGUSTA SPINNING.

8 In Town [No.3

The manner in which they make their tour round
the room is, first, the Queen, the lady in waiting
behind her, holding up her train ; next to her, the
Princess Royal ; after her, Princess Augusta, and
their lady in waiting behind them. They are pretty,
rather than beautiful, well shaped, with fair complex
ions, and a look of the King's countenance. The
two sisters look much alike; they were both dressed
in black and silver silk, with a silver netting upon
the coat, and their heads full of diamond pins. The
Queen was in purple and silver. She is not well
shaped nor handsome. As to the ladies of the Court,
rank and title may compensate for want of personal
charms ; but they are, in general, very plain, ill-
shaped, and ugly ; but don't you tell anybody that
I say so. If one wants to see beauty, one must go
to Ranelagh ; there it is collected, in one bright con-
A pleasure stellation. There were two ladies very elegant, at
Court, — Lady Salisbury and Lady Talbot ; but the
observation did not in general hold good, that fine
feathers make fine birds. I saw many who were
vastly richer dressed than your friends, but I will
venture to say, that I saw none neater or more
elegant.

3. A Little Patriot and her Papa

BY ABIGAIL ADAMS (1785)

LONDON, June ist, 1785. To-day my father went
with Lord Carmarthen to the Palace, where he found
many gentlemen, known to him before. Lord C.
introduced him to his majesty, George III. Papa
made his speech when he presented his letter ; his.

NO. 3] A Little Patriot 9

majesty was affected, and said, " Sir, your words
have been so proper, upon this occasion, that I can
not but say I am gratified that you are the man
chosen to be the Minister."

June 4th. This is the anniversary of his majesty's
birth; consequently there was a Levee at St. James.
On this day their majesties speak to every person
present. The King speaks first to the Foreign Min
isters. He conversed a quarter of an hour with the
Spanish Minister, upon music, of which he said he
was passionately fond, particularly of Handel's ; he
respected the memory of Handel, for he owed to him
the greatest happiness of his life, and observed that
Handel had said of him when young "That young
man will preserve my music." My father observed
that he had never heard anything like conversation
at court before. One of the Ambassadors who had
attended at the French court thirty years, said Mon
sieur, the king's brother, had asked every time he had
been to court, which was generally every Tuesday,
" have you come from Paris to-day ? " and no other
question.

September 2d. About twelve o'clock, Mrs. Smith,
from Clapham, and Miss B. called upon us. Mamma
was just dressing, so I had to appear. Miss B. began
to question me, as to which country I liked best,
France or England ? I would not give a preference.
" But you undoubtedly prefer England to America ?"
" I must indeed confess, Miss, that I do not at pres
ent." Was it possible ! I acknowledged the excel
lencies of this country. There was more to please
and gratify the senses ; but I had formed such
friendships and attachments in America, as would
ever render it dear to me. " But surely, the culture

i o In 'Town [NO. 3

is carried to a much greater degree of perfection here
than in America." "Granted." "And you must,"
said Miss B., very pertly, " find a great difference
between America and this country ? " " In what,
pray, Miss?" said I. "Why, in the general appear
ance, in the people, their manners, customs, behavior,
and in everything." "Indeed," said I, "I do not;
there is so great a similarity in the manners of the
people, in the two countries, that I should take them
for one. If anything, I find a greater degree of
politeness and civility in America, than in the people
of this country. And the lower class of people in
America are infinitely superior to the lower class of
people here." Their astonishment was great — was
it possible I could think so ! Surely the distressing
war had been an impediment to all improvement and
education.

Dr. Bancroft came in and passed an hour. After
he had gone, we had some conversation upon the pic
tures below. Papa said they were spoiled ; he was
not at all content with his own, yet thought it the best
that had ever been taken of him. No one had yet
caught his character. The ruling principles in his
moral character, were candor, probity, and decision.
I think he discovered more knowledge of himself
than usually falls to the lot of man ; for, from my
own 'observation, I think these are characteristic of
him ; and I add another, which is sensibility. I have
never discovered a greater proportion of candor in
any character. I hope if I inherit any of his virtues
it may be this; it is a necessary attendant through
life. In whatever intercourse we have with society,
we find it necessary in a greater or less degree ; and in
the mind of a woman, I esteem it particularly amiable.

No. 4]

Mad- caps

1 1

4. Mad-caps

BY SAMUEL BRECK (1787)

ON my journey to Boston I chose the water-con
veyance, and reached my native town on the second
of July, 1787, after an absence of four years and a
half. I found my dear parents and family well. On
the Fourth of July, being a national holiday, there
was a great parade on the Common opposite to my
father's house, and a vast assemblage at the beautiful
residence of the governor of the State, the celebrated
John Hancock. This distinguished man lived in a
spacious stone house, built by his uncle. My father
introduced me to His Excellency and to all the prin
cipal people of the town. Five or six hundred militia
men paraded in rifle-frocks and queer dresses in
honor of the day ; a public oration was delivered by
Harrison Gray Otis, I believe ; and in the evening
squibs and fireworks closed the fete.

A few weeks after my arrival, and before I had
become acquainted with the boisterous manners of
the young men of those days, Isaac Parker, the pres
ent chief justice of Massachusetts, invited me to dine
with him. He was then a law-student, and the com
pany was composed of lads under age who were pre- The great
paring for various pursuits in life. There was more temPerance

.11 movement

noisy mirth after dinner than was in good taste ; but began abont
it was the fashion of the day to drink hard and then
kick up a row. Parker resided at the north end of
the town, and being in the neighborhood of Charles-
town, it was agreed by the company to adjourn to a
drinking-house on Breed's Hill. Thither we went, a

forty years
later.

good deal tipsy, making a

over the

12 In Town [NO. 4

bridge, and ascending the hill by a steep and narrow
street.

I was sober ; most of our party were otherwise, and
by their noise and insolence in passing a tailor's
house raised the anger of the whole shopboard, who
swore they would cuff and trim us, and send us home
with a stitch in our sides. Down jumped half a dozen
slipshod snips, who threw at our heads glass bottles,
stones and other missiles, and after a short contest
drove us back to Boston somewhat sobered. Near
the concert-hall we met an acquaintance named Minot,
who prided himself on his spirit in an affray. We
told him what had happened, and such was his rage
at our defeat that he went off determined to avenge
it. Having reached the bridge, he met two men who
smelt of cabbage, as the boys said, and very uncere
moniously asked them where they were going.

" We are going," said they, " to take out writs against
a parcel of wild chaps who have insulted us." " You
are ? " cried Minot. " I am happy to meet you ; "
and while he spoke he laid one fellow over the head with
his cane, which brought him to the ground, and drove
the other back to Charlestown ; after which, proud of
his victory, he returned home. And so did I, without
thinking any more about the business.

The next morning, however, my father came up to
my chamber with a very grave countenance, holding
in his hand a newspaper in which our party was lam
pooned in verse and strongly censured in prose. Nor
was this the worst.

" Prepare yourself," said my father, " to pay a
heavy fine and spend a few months in prison, for
there is a criminal prosecution on foot, which will end
in the punishment you all deserve." I soon con-

NO. 5] John Hancock £3

vinced that excellent parent that I was a non-comba
tant, which was confirmed by my name being omitted
in the suit that was brought against all the others,
including Sam Minot, the volunteer. They were sum
moned to Concord, about twenty miles from Boston,
and condemned to pay twenty dollars each. Minot,
some three or four years afterward, I met at Amster
dam, where he had been engaged unsuccessfully, I
think, in commerce. He was the same harum-
scarum fellow then as before, and died young.
Most of the other boys of that frolic who grew up,
distinguished themselves in their various walks in life,
and those who survive are now the magistrates, legis
lators, fathers and venerable square-toes of the com
munity wherever they reside.

5. Anecdotes of John Hancock

BY SAMUEL BRECK (1790)

AT the time when Admiral de Ponderez was lying
with his fleet in the harbor of Boston, the great Wash
ington, who was President of the United States, ar
rived in the town. He like a kind father was visiting
the vast country he had been called upon to govern.
His reception was most cordial. A broad arch was
purposely erected, with appropriate mottoes, across
Maryborough street, opposite to the old State House,
under which he passed in great state, and entering
the State House showed himself from the balcony to
the thousands who stood below. I placed myself on
this occasion in the front window of a handsome brick
church situated almost opposite. From that church

In Town

[No. 5

I saw everything, heard the fine anthems composed
for the occasion, and gazed upon the majestic person
and beneficent features of our immortal and unique
President — beloved, admired by everybody. The
procession moved from the State House to the house

selected for his
residence. It
was a handsome
brick building at
the corner of
Tremont and
Court streets. A
beautiful com
pany of light
infantry, com
manded by Har
rison Gray Otis,
served as a
guard of honor
and escort.

Governor Han
cock had pre
pared a great
dinner at his
house, to which

he invited the French admiral, the officers of his fleet
and the principal citizens. A notion had got into
Hancock's head that the governor of a State was a
kind of sovereign in his own territory, and that it
would be derogatory to his station to pay the first
visit to any one, even to the President of the United
States ; and acting always by this rule, he sent an
invitation to General Washington to dine with him,
but excused himself from calling on him, saying that

THE HANCOCK HOUSE.

NO. 5] John Hancock

sickness detained him at home, thus covering by a
lame apology the resolution which he dared not
openly exercise toward the President.

Washington, who had received' some hint of this
intended etiquette, was not very likely to submit to
it ; therefore, when he arrived at his residence he dis
missed Captain Otis's company, and instead of going
to dine with the governor, sent his aid-de-camp,
Major William Jackson, with a message declining the
invitation, and intimating that if Hancock's health
permitted him to receive company, it would admit of .
his visiting him.

My father dined at the governor's that day, and
about sunset brought home Admiral de Ponderez and
several officers, who spent the evening with us. The
dinner party went off heavily, as every one was disap
pointed at not meeting with the President. Mean
time, the French ships of war in the harbor were
illuminated with variegated lamps, and bonfires
blazed in every direction. The ladies wore bandeaux, Bandeaux=
cestuses and ribbons stamped and worked in with the fillets for the
name of Washington, some in gold and silver, and cestus=
others with pearls. The utmost joy and enthusiastic girdle.
affection pervaded all classes. Every honor and atten
tion was lavishly bestowed on the distinguished guest.

About ten o'clock in the evening I accompanied
the admiral to the wharf, where he took boat for his
ship. As we passed the residence of the President,
De Ponderez expressed his surprise at the absence of
all sort of parade or noise. " What ! " said he, " not
even a sentinel ? In Europe," he added, " a briga
dier-general would have a guard ; and here this great
man, the chief of a nation, dispenses with all military
show, so much insisted on with us ! "

1 6 In Town [NO. 5

The next day was Sunday, and immediately after
morning service Mr. Joseph Russell, an intimate
acquaintance of the governor's, called at our house
and told my father that His Excellency had swallowed
the bitter pill, and was then on his way to visit the
President ; to which step he had been urged by a
report that people generally condemned his false pride.

Hancock, who was a distant relation of ours, pos
sessed winning manners and fascinating conversation ;
yet with a hospitable heart and all the suavity of pol
ished breeding, he was so much swayed by state im
portance that he forfeited occasionally his claim to
those amiable qualities. An example has just been
given in the case of Washington ; and a few months
later the same thing occurred with the French ambas
sador, Comte de Moustier, who when visiting Boston
was not noticed by the governor, because the minister
would not pay him the first visit. It may be that the
governor was right here, but it was an idle piece of
etiquette, which disgusted De Moustier with Boston
— so much so that he dined nowhere, I think, except
at my father's.

I remember another occasion on which Hancock
showed an unkind feeling toward the general govern
ment, from an idea that it withheld from him that
deference which his post of governor of a sovereign
state entitled him to. He attached mighty impor
tance to the station of chief magistrate of an indepen
dent state, forgetting that a portion of that lofty
character was relinquished when Massachusetts be
came a component part of the Federal Union. His
solicitude upon this subject brings to my mind four
verses to the tune of " Yankee Doodle" often sung
by the British officers during the Revolution :

NO. 5] John Hancock 1 7

" Madame Hancock dreamt a dream ;

She dreamt she wanted something;
She dreamt she wanted a Yankee king,
To crown him with a pumpkin."

This official heartburning led him to neglect all those
who had anything to do with the Federal govern
ment. Thus it was that a party of Indian chiefs and
their squaws who were sent to Boston to see the town
were totally unnoticed by him.

I happened to meet with those children of the
woods on a journey from New York to Boston, and
spent some time in the same tavern on the road.
They travelled in two carriages under the care of
Captain Prior of the army. A Mr. d'Hauteville, a
Creole French planter, was with me, and we agreed
to show some attention to these strangers when they
arrived at Boston. Accordingly, we went to see
them, and made arrangements to give them a dinner
at our lodgings. Expecting that the governor would
entertain them, we waited several days. He, how
ever, took no notice of them, and on the appointed
day they came to us. Mrs. Eaton's house, where we
lodged, was spacious, and the courtyard was large
and retired, and well suited to accommodate the
crowd of spectators by which our red guests were
followed. Calamung coro ho are the Indian words
for " I drink your good health," and they were often
repeated that day. After the cloth was removed I
asked the chief for a toast. He rose with solemnity
and addressed me as follows : " Brother, I divide my
toast into three parts. First, I drink reverence to
the Great Spirit, our Father in heaven ; secondly, to
our Great Father on earth, the President of the
United States ; and thirdly, to our travelling father

1 8 In Town [NO. 6

and friend, Captain Prior." All this was delivered
with suitable emphasis and great gravity in the In
dian language, and translated by the interpreter of
the government, who dined with us. They stayed
about three hours, and conducted themselves very
well, retiring loaded with cigars and reasonably sober
for Indians.

6. Fashions in Philadelphia

BY DOLLY MADISON (1791)

AND now, my dear Anna, we will have done with
judges and juries, courts, both martial and partial,
and we will speak a little about Philadelphia and
the fashions, the beaux, Congress, and the weather.
Do I not make a fine jumble of them ? What would
Harper or beau Dawson say were they to know it,
ha, ha, — mind you laugh herewith me. Philadelphia
never was known to be so lively at this season as at
present ; for an accurate account of the amusements,
I refer you to my letter to your sister Mary.

I went yesterday to see a doll, which has come
from England, dressed to show us the fashions, and
I saw besides a great quantity of millinery. Very
long trains are worn, and they are festooned up
Bot>bin= a with loops of bobbin and small covered buttons,
kind of trim- the same as the dress ; you are not confined to any
number of festoons, but put them according to your
fancy, and you cannot imagine what a beautiful effect
it has. There is also a robe which is plaited very
far back, open and ruffled down the sides, without a
train, even with the petticoat. The hats are quite a
different shape from what they used to be : they have

NO. 6] Fashions in Philadelphia i g

no slope in the crown, scarce any rim, and are turned
up at each side, and worn very much on the side of
the head. Several of them are made of chipped
wood, commonly known as cane hats ; they are all
lined : one that has come for Mrs. Bingham is lined
with white, and trimmed with broad purple ribbon,

A GENTLEMAN OF THE REPUBLIC.

put round in large puffs, with a bow on the left side.
The bonnets are all open on the top, through which
the hair is passed, either up or down as you fancy,
but latterly they wear it more up than down; it is
quite out of fashion to frizz or curl the hair, as it
is worn perfectly straight. Earrings, too, are very

2o In Town [NO. 7

fashionable. The waists are worn two inches longer
than they used to be, and there is no such thing as
long sleeves. They are worn half way above the
elbow, either drawn or plaited in various ways, ac
cording to fancy ; they do not wear ruffles at all,
and as for elbows, Anna, ours would be alabaster,
compared to some of the ladies who follow the
fashion ; black or a colored ribbon is pinned round
the bare arm, between the elbow and the sleeve.
Some new-fashioned slippers for ladies have come
made of various colored kid or morocco, with small
silver clasps sewed on ; they are very handsome, and
make the feet look remarkably small and neat
Everybody thinks the millinery last received the
most tasty seen for a long time.

All our beaux are well ; the amiable Chevalier is
perfectly recovered, and handsomer than ever. You
can have no idea, my dear girl, what pleasant times
I have ; there is the charming Chevalier, the divine
Santana, the jolly Vicar, the witty and agreeable
Fatio, the black-eyed Lord Henry, the soft, love-
making Count, the giggling, foolish Duke, and some
times the modest, good Meclare, who are at our
house every day. We have fine riding parties and
musical frolics.

7. A Bride in New York a Hun
dred Years ago

(1800)

MY head is almost turned, and yet I am very
happy. I am enraptured with New York. You
cannot imagine anything half so beautiful as Broad-

No. 7]

U^edding Tour

way, and I am sure you would say I was more romantic
than ever, if I should attempt to describe the Battery, —
the fine water pros
pect, — you. can have
no idea how refresh
ing in a warm evening.
The gardens we have
notyetvisited; indeed,
we have so many de
lightful things to see
'twill take me forever.
My husband declares
he takes as much
pleasure in showing
them to me as I do
in seeing them ; you
would believe it if
you saw him.

I went shopping
yesterday, and 'tis a
fact that the little
white satin Quaker
bonnets, cap-crowns,
lined with pink or blue
or white, are the most
fashionable that are worn. But I'll not have one, for
if any of my old acquaintance should meet me in the
street, they would laugh : I would if I were they.

I have been to two of the Columbia gardens, near
the Battery, a most romantic place, it is enclosed in
a circular form and has little rooms and boxes all
around, with chairs and tables, these full of company ;
the trees are all hung with lamps, twinkling through
the branches ; in the centre is a pretty little building

A BRIDE'S BONNET.

22 In Town [NO. 7

with a fountain playing continually, and the rays of
the lamps on the drops of water gave it a cool
sparkling appearance that was delightful. This lit
tle building, which has a kind of canopy and pillars
all around the garden, had festoons of colored lamps,
that at a distance looked like large brilliant stars
seen through the branches ; and placed all around
were marble busts, beautiful little figures of Diana,
Cupid and Venus, which by the glimmering of the
lamps, partly concealed by the foliage, give you an
idea of enchantment.

As we strolled through the trees, we passed a box
that Miss Watts was in. She called to us, and we
went in, and had a charming refreshing glass of ice
cream, which has chilled me ever since. They have
a fine orchestra and have concerts here sometimes.

We went on toward the Battery. This is a large
promenade by the shore of the North River : there
are rows and clusters of trees in every part, and a
large walk along the shore, almost over the water,
gives you such a fresh delightful air, that every even
ing in summer it is crowded with company. Here,
too, they have music playing in boats on the water
of a moonlight night.

I am in raptures, as you may imagine, and if I had
not grown sober before I came to this wonderful
place, it would have turned my head.

NO. s] Philadelphia Streets 2 3

8. Philadelphia Streets in 1802

BY DR. FRANCOIS ANDRE MICHAUD (1802)

I QUITTED New York on the 8th of June, 1802, for
Philadelphia. The distance is one hundred miles.
The stages perform this journey, some in one day,
and some in a day and a half. The price is five
piastres for each person. At the taverns where the
stages stop, one piastre is paid for dinner, half a Piastre=
one for supper or breakfast, and the same for a bed. dollar-
The whole of the interval which separates these
two cities is cultivated, and the farms adjoin each
other. Nine miles from New York is Newark, a
very pretty little town, in New Jersey. The fields
with which it is surrounded, are planted with apple
trees : the cider made here is reckoned the best in
the United States, but I think it greatly inferior to
what is drank at Saint Loo, Coutances, or Bayeux. French
Among the other small towns met with on this road towns-
is Trenton. Its situation on the Delaware, and the
beautiful country around it must render it a delight
ful retreat.

Philadelphia is situated on the Delaware, one hun
dred and twenty miles from the sea. It is at present
the largest, the handsomest, and the most populous
city of the United States. There is not perhaps one
on the old continent built on so regular a plan. Its
streets, which intersect each other at right angles, are
from forty-five to fifty feet wide, except that in the The present
middle of the city which is twice that breadth. In it Broadstreet-
is built the market which is worthy of notice for its
extent and the extreme neatness preserved in it. It
is in the centre of the city, and occupies about one-

24 In Town [NO. g

third of its length. The streets are paved, and are
provided with broad bricked footways. Pumps, placed
on each side of them at about one hundred yards from
each other, supply an abundance of water. Each of
them has a lamp on its top. Several of the streets
have Italian poplars of a very handsome appearance
planted before the houses.

The population of Philadelphia is constantly in
creasing : in 1 749, there were 11,000 inhabitants; in
1785, 40,000; and, at present, the number is esti
mated at 70,000. The few negroes found here are
free, and are mostly employed as domestics. Provi
sions are a little cheaper at Philadelphia than at New
York ; the charge for boarding is, consequently, only
from six to ten piastres a week. In Philadelphia we
do not meet with any beggars, or any person bearing
the stamp -of misery in his countenance ; this dis
tressing sight, so common in the cities of Europe, is
unknown in America ; the love of and the necessity
for work, the scarcity of hands, the high price of
labour, an active commerce, just ideas — all these are
causes which oppose the introduction of mendicity,
either in the towns or in the country.

9. Society in Mexico

BY MAJOR ZEBULON PIKE (1806)

FOR hospitality, generosity, docility, and sobriety,
the people of New Spain exceed any nation perhaps
on the globe : but in national energy, or patriotism,
enterprise of character, and independence of soul,
they are perhaps the most deficient. Yet there are

NO. 9] Society in Mexico

men who have displayed bravery to a surprizing
degree, and the Europeans who are there, cherish
with delight the idea of their gallant ancestry. Their
women have black eyes and hair, fine teeth, and are
generally brunettes. I met but one exception to this
rule at Chihuahua, a fair lady, and she by way of
distinction was called the girl with light hair. Their
dresses are generally short jackets and petticoats, and
high-heel shoes, without any head dress : over this
they have a silk wrapper which they always wear,
and when in the presence of men affect to bring it
over their faces ; but as we approached the Atlantic
and our frontiers, we saw several ladies who wore the
gowns of our country women, which they conceive to
be more elegant than their ancient costume.

The lower class of the men are generally dressed
in broad-brimmed hats, short coats, large waistcoats
and small clothes, always open at the knees, owing, I
suppose, to the greater freedom it gives to the limbs
on horseback, a kind of leather boot or wrapper
bound round the leg, somewhat in the manner of our

A SPANISH MISSION CHURCH.

26 In Town [NO. 9

frontier men's leggins, and gartered on. The boot

is of a soft pliable leather, but not coloured. In the

eastern provinces the dragoons wear over this wrap-

Gaffs=the per a sort of jack-boot made of seal leather, to which

metal points are f astened the spurs by a rivet, the gaffs of which

on a spur. . . , . . 1 T-» i

are sometimes near an inch in length. But the spurs
of the gentlemen and officers, although clumsy to our
ideas, are frequently ornamented with raised silver
work on the shoulders, and the strap embroidered
with silver and gold thread.

They are always ready to mount their horses, on
which the inhabitants of the internal provinces spend
nearly half the day. This description will apply gen
erally for the dress of all the men of the provinces
for the lower class, but in the towns, amongst the
more fashionable ranks, they dress after the Euro
pean or United States mode, with not more distinc
tion than we see in our cities from one six months to
another. Both men and women have remarkably
fine hair, and pride themselves in the display of it.

Their amusements are music, singing, dancing, and
gambling; the latter is strictly prohibited, but the
prohibition is not much attended to. The dance is
performed by one man and two women, who beat
time to the music, which is soft, but sometimes
changes to a lively gay air. The fandango is danced
in various figures and numbers. The minuet is still
danced by the superior class only ; the music made
use of is the guitar and violin, and singers accompany
the music with their hands and voices.

Their games are cards, billiards, horse-racing, and
cock-fighting, the first and last of which are carried
to the most extravagant lengths, the parties losing
and winning immense sums. The present Comman-

NO. g] Society in Mexico 27

dant-General is very severe with his officers in these
respects, frequently sending them to some frontier
post, in confinement for months, for no other fault
than having lost large sums at play.

At every town of consequence is a public walk,
where the ladies and gentlemen meet and sing songs,
which are always on the subject of love, or the social
board. The ladies have fine voices, and sing in
French, Italian, and Spanish, the whole company
joining in the chorus. In their houses the ladies play
on the guitar, and generally accompany it with their
voices. They either sit down on the carpet cross-
legged, or loll on a sofa. To sit upright in a chair
appeared to put them to great inconvenience, and
although the better class would sometimes do it on
our first introduction, they soon demanded liberty to
follow their old habits.

In their eating and drinking they are remarkably
temperate. Early in the morning you receive a dish
of chocolate and a cake ; at twelve you dine on sev
eral dishes of meat, fowls, and fish ; after which you
have a variety of confectionary, and indeed an elegant
dessert : then drink a few glasses of wine, sing a few
songs, and retire to take the siesta, or afternoon nap,
which is done by rich and poor; and about two
o'clock the windows and doors are all closed, the
streets deserted, and the stillness of midnight reigns
throughout. About four o'clock they rise, wash, and
dress, and prepare for the dissipation of the night.
About eleven o'clock some refreshments are offered,
but few take any, except a little wine and water and
a little candied sugar.

The beggars of -the City of Mexico alone are esti
mated at sixty thousand souls ; what must be the

28 In Town [NO. 10

number through the whole kingdom? And to what
reason can it be owing, that, in a country superior to
any in the world for riches in gold and silver, produc
ing all the necessaries of life, and most of its luxuries,
there should be such a vast proportion of the inhabit
ants in want of bread and clothing ? It can only be
accounted for by the tyranny of the government, and
the luxuries of the rich : the government striving by
all the local restrictions possible to be invented, with
out absolutely driving the people to desperation, to
keep Spanish America dependent on Europe.

10. Anecdotes of Daniel Webster

BY JOSIAH QUINCY (1826)

ON Friday, February 17, 1820, I find an account of
a dinner at Mr. Webster's. The occasion was abso
lutely informal and very pleasant. Webster carved
the beef and was in a charming humor. He told
some good lawyer's stories, and gave us a graphic
account of the burning of his house in Portsmouth,
in the winter of 1813. "Though I was in Washing
ton at the time," he said, " I believe I know more
about the fire than many who were actively at work
on the spot. Besides, here is Mrs. Webster, who was
burned out. She will correct me if I am wrong."
He told us that all he possessed in the world was
lost, there being no insurance upon house or furniture ;
but as more than two hundred buildings were con
sumed in the fire, some of them belonging to those
less able to make a living than himself, he felt he had
no right to murmur. He was, nevertheless, troubled

NO. zoj Daniel Webster 2 g

about the loss of his library. His books were full of
notes and associations, and could not be replaced.

The sweet and playful manner of Webster is fixed
indelibly upon my memory. That manner I cannot
give, and it was everything. He was on the happiest
terms with the world, which had crowned him with its
choicest blessing, and stood forth in all respects as an
example and a hero among men.

The conversation was running upon the importance
of doing small things thoroughly and with the full
measure of one's ability. This Webster illustrated
by an account of some petty insurance case that was
brought to him when a young lawyer in Portsmouth.
Only a small amount was involved, and a twenty-
dollar fee was all that was promised. He saw that,
to do his clients full justice, a journey to Boston, to
consult the Law Library, would be desirable. He
would be out of pocket by such an expedition, and
for his time he would receive no adequate compensa
tion. After a little hesitation, he determined to do
his very best, cost what it might. He accordingly
went to Boston, looked up the authorities, and gained
the case. Years after this, Webster, then famous,
was passing through New York. An important
insurance case was to be tried the day after his
arrival, and one of the counsel had been suddenly
taken ill. Money was no object, and Webster was
begged to name his terms and conduct the case. " I
told them," said Mr. Webster, "that it was pre
posterous to expect me to prepare a legal argument
at a few hours' notice. They insisted, however, that
I should look at the papers ; and this, after some
demur, I consented to do. Well, it was my old
twenty-dollar case over again, and, as I never forget

3 o In Town [NO. 10

anything, I had all the authorities at my fingers'
ends. The court knew that I had no time to pre
pare, and were astonished at the range of my acquire
ments. So, you see, I was handsomely paid both in
fame and money for that journey to Boston ; and the
moral is, that good work is rewarded in the end,
though, to be sure, one's own self-approval should be
enough."

I may be pardoned for taking from my journal of
later date another after-dinner story which I heard
Mr. Webster tell with great dramatic effect. One of
the party mentioned that a president of one of the
Boston banks had that morning redeemed a counter
feit bill for fifty dollars, never doubting that his signa
ture upon it was genuine. This incident led to a
discussion of the value of expert testimony in regard
to writing, the majority of our company holding it in
little esteem. Mr. Webster then came to the defence
of this sort of testimony, saying that he had found.it
of much value, although experts were like children
who saw more than they were able to explain to
others. " And this reminds me," he said, " of my
story of the tailor. It was a capital case that was
being tried, and the tailor's testimony was very im
portant. He had been called to prove that he made
a certain coat for the criminal ; and he swore to the
fact stoutly. Upon cross-examination he was asked
how he knew that the coat was his work. ' Why,
I know it by my stitches, of course.' 'Are your
stitches longer than those of other tailors?' 'Oh,
no ! ' ' Well, then, are they shorter ? ' ' Not a bit
shorter.' ' Anything peculiar about them ? ' k Well,
I don't believe there is.' ' Then how do you dare to
come here and swear that they are yours ? ' This

NO. n] Turkey-shooting 3 1

seemed to be a poser, but the witness met it trium
phantly. Casting a look of contempt upon his ex
aminer, the tailor raised both hands to heaven and
exclaimed, ' Good Lord ! as if I didn't know my own
stitches!' The jury believed him, and they were
right in doing so. The fact is, we continually build
our judgment upon details too fine for distinct cog
nizance. And these nice shades of sensibility are
trustworthy, although we can give no good account
of them. We can swear to our stitches, notwith
standing they seem to be neither longer nor shorter
than those of other people."

ii. A Kentucky Marksman

BY JOSIAH QUINCY (1826)

I KNEW Larz Anderson, of Cincinnati, well in col
lege, and remember when he arrived in Cambridge,
a small, flaxen-haired boy, accompanied by two com
panions from the distant West. They had come all
the way from Kentucky on horseback, their effects
being borne in saddle-bags behind the riders. There
was no public conveyance, the roads were execrable,
and this manly mode of travelling was then the only
way of getting to Harvard.

Oxford Street, in Cambridge, is at present a very
decorous thoroughfare, not at all adapted to the wild
sport of turkey-shooting, for which purpose the
ground it occupies was used when I was in college.
We stood with our backs to the site of Memorial Hall,
and discharged rifles, at long range, at a turkey
which was dimly discernible in the distance. A small

In Town

[No. ii

fee was demanded for the privilege of shooting, and
the turkey was to be given to any one who could hit
it. But, except for some chance shot, like that made
by Mr. Tupman when out rook-shooting, it was safe
to predict that nobody would hit it. The usual end
of a Harvard turkey-shooting was the departure of
the proprieter of the turkeys with all his birds and
all our sixpences. Still there was the excitement of
a lottery about it, if nothing else. The ball, if dis
charged, must strike somewhere ; and, if so, why
might it not happen to strike the turkey ? The logic
was simply irresistible. A fowl of that size would
be a most desirable addition to the meagre fare fur
nished by the college commons ; and so the rifles
cracked, with small result to the students and splen
did profits to the turkey-man. One day a little tow-
headed fellow appeared on the field, and desired to
take part in the sport. Though he seemed almost
too young to be trusted with a rifle, the master of the

fowls (foreseeing future
gains) was quite willing
he should try. He must
first receive proper in
structions about the hold
ing and pointing of his
piece, and then there
would really be no dan
ger. Young Larz re
ceived the directions
with great good nature,
raised the rifle, and down
went the turkey. The
man stared in amaze-
A WILD TURKEY. ment, and then broke

NO. 12] ^4 Runaway 3 3

into a smile. "Try it again, young one," said he.
"'Most any one can throw sixes once, you know."
Another bird was procured, the ball flew to the mark
with the same result, and a second turkey was added
to the banquet upon which his friends would regale.
"Well, where in " — the United States, let us call
it — " did you come from ? " exclaimed the master of
fowls, who began to realize that his occupation was
gone.

" I came from the State of Kentucky, sir," answered
Larz Anderson, proudly ; " and next time you meet a
gentleman from that State, just remember there's not
much you can tell him about a rifle. That's all."

12. The Little Boy that ran away
from Providence

BY LYDIA MARIA CHILD (1842)

DOCTOR HAWKINS of Boston, coming home to
dine one day found a very bright-looking handsome
mulatto on the steps, apparently about seven or eight
years old. As he opened the door, the boy glided in,
as if it were his home. "What do you want?" said
the doctor. The child looked up with smiling con
fidence, and answered, " I am a little boy that ran
away from Providence ; and I want some dinner ;
and I thought maybe you would give me some." His
radiant face, and child-like freedom worked like a
charm. He had a good dinner, and remained several
days, becoming more and more the pet of the whole
household. He said he had been cruelly treated by

34 In Town [NO. xa

somebody in Providence, and had run away ; but the
people he described could not be found. The doctor
thought it would not do to have him growing up in
idleness, and he tried to find a place where he could
run of errands, clean knives, &c. for his living. An
hour after this was mentioned, the boy was missing.
In a few weeks, they heard of him in the opposite
part of the city, sitting on a door-step at dinner-time.
When the door opened, he walked in, smiling, and
said, " I am a little boy that ran away from Provi
dence ; and I want some dinner, and I thought maybe
you would give me some." He was not mistaken this
time either. The heart that trusted so completely
received a cordial welcome. After a time, it was
again proposed to find some place at service ; and
straightway this human butterfly was off, no one
knew whither.

For several months no more was heard of him.
But one bright winter day, his first benefactor found
him seated on the steps of a house in Beacon-street.
" Why, Tom, where did you come from ? " said he.
" I came from Philadelphia." " How upon earth did
you get here ? " " I heard folks talk about New- York,
and I thought I should like to see it. So I went on
board a steamboat ; and when it put off, the captain
asked me who I was ; and I told him that I was a
little boy that ran away from Providence, and I
wanted to go to New-York, but I hadn't any money.
'You little rascal/ says he, ' I'll throw you overboard.'
' I don't believe you will,' said I ; and he didn't. I
told him I was hungry, and he gave me something to
eat, and made up a nice little bed for me. When I
got to New- York, I went and sat down on a door-step ;
and when the gentleman came home to dinner, I

NO. 12] A Runaway 35

went in, and told him that I was a little boy that ran
away from Providence, and I was hungry. So they
gave me something to eat, and made up a nice little
bed for me, and let me stay there. But I wanted to
see Philadelphia ; so I went into a steam-boat ; and
when they asked me who I was, I told them that I
was a little boy that ran away from Providence. They
said I had no business there, but they gave me an
orange. When I got to Philadelphia, I sat down on
a door-step, and when the gentleman came home to
dinner, I told him I was a little boy that ran away
from Providence, and I thought perhaps he would
give me something to eat. So they gave me a good
dinner, and made me up a nice little bed. Then I
wanted to come back to Boston ; and every body gave
me something to eat, and made me up a nice little
bed. And I sat down on this door-step, and when the
lady asked me what I wanted, I told her I was a little
boy that ran away from Providence, and I was hungry.
So she gave me something to eat, and made me up a
nice little bed ; and I stay here, and do her errands
sometimes. Every body is very good to me, and I
like every body."

He looked up with the most 'sunny gaiety, and
striking his hoop as he spoke, went down the street
like an arrow. He disappeared soon after, probably
in quest of new adventures. I have never heard of
him since : and sometimes a painful fear passes
through my mind that the kidnappers, prowling
about all our large towns, have carried him into
slavery.

36 In Town [NO. i3

13. New Years Day in New York

BY LYDIA MARIA CHILD (1842)

NEW YORK welcomes the new year, in much the
same style that she does every thing else. She is
not prone, as the Quakers say, " to get into the still
ness," to express any of her emotions. Such a hub
bub as was kept up on the night of the 3ist, I never
heard. Such a firing out of the old year, and such a
firing in of the new ! Fourth of July in Boston is
nothing compared to it. The continual discharge of
guns and pistols prevented my reading or writing in
peace, and I took refuge in bed ; but every five min
utes a lurid flash darted across the walls, followed
by the hateful crash of fire-arms. If any good thing
is expressed by that sharp voice, it lies beyond the
power of my imagination to discover it ; why men
should choose it for the utterance of joy, is more than
I can tell.

The racket of these powder-devilkins kept me
awake till two o'clock. At five, I was roused by a
stout Hibernian voice, almost under my window,
shouting "Pa-ther! Pa-ther ! " Peter did not an
swer, and off went a pistol. Upon this, Peter was
fain to put his head out of the window, and inquire
what was wanted. " A bright New Year to ye,
Pa-ther. Get up and open the door."

The show in the shop-windows, during the week
between Christmas and New Year's, was splendid, I
assure you. All that Parisian taste, or English skill
could furnish, was spread out to tempt the eye. How
I did want the wealth of Rothschild, that I might
make all the world a present, and then, methinks, I

No. 13]

Old New York

could still long for another world to endow. The
happiness of Heaven must consist in loving and giv
ing. What else is there worth living for ? I have
often involuntarily applied to myself a remark made
by Madam Roland. " Reflecting upon what part I
was fitted to perform in the world," says she, " I could
never think of any that quite satisfied me, but that
of Divine Providence." To some this may sound

NEW YORK IN l82O.

blasphemous ; it was however merely the spontane
ous and child-like utterance of a loving and liberal
soul.

In New York, they observe this festival after the
old Dutch fashion ; and the Dutch, you know, were
famous lovers of good eating. No lady, that is a
lady, will be out on the streets on the first of Janu
ary. Every woman, that is " anybody," stays at

38 In Town [NO. i3

home, dressed in her best, and by her side is a table
covered with cakes, preserves, wines, oysters, hot
coffee, &c. ; and as every gentleman is in honour
bound to call on every lady, whose acquaintance
he does not intend to cut, the amount of eating and
drinking done by some fashionable beaux must of
course be very considerable. The number of calls is
a matter of pride and boasting among ladies, and
there is, of course, considerable rivalry in the magnifi
cence and variety of the eating tables. This custom
is eminently Dutch in its character, and will pass
away before a higher civilization.

To furnish forth this treat, the shops vied with
each other to the utmost. Confectionery abounded
in the shape of every living thing ; beside many
things nowhere to be found, not even among gnomes,
Merrows= or fairies, or uncouth merrows of the sea. Cakes
mermaids. were of every conceivable shape — pyramids, obe
lisks, towers, pagodas, castles, &c. Some frosted
loaves nestled lovingly in a pretty basket of sugar
eggs ; others were garlanded with flowers, or sur
mounted by cooing doves, or dancing cupids. Alto
gether, they made a pretty show in Broadway — too
pretty — since the object was to minister to heartless
vanity, or tempt a sated appetite.

There is one lovely feature in this annual festival.
It is a season when all past neglect, all family feuds,
all heart-burning and estrangement among friends
may be forgotten and laid aside for ever. They who
have not spoken for years may renew acquaintance,
without any unpleasant questions asked, if they sig
nify a wish to do so by calling on the first of January.

NO. i4] House-cleaning 3 g

1 4. House-cleaning

BY FRANCIS HOPKINSON (1785)

WHEN a young couple are about to enter on the
matrimonial state, a never failing article in the
marriage treaty is, that the lady shall have and enjoy
the free and unmolested exercise of the rights of
white-washing, with all its ceremonials, privileges,
and appurtenances. You will wonder what this
privilege of white-washing is. I will endeavour to
give you an idea of the ceremony, as I have seen it
performed.

There is no season of the year in which the lady
may not, if she pleases, claim her privilege ; but the
latter end of May is generally fixed upon for the
purpose. The attentive husband may judge by cer
tain prognostics, when the storm is nigh at hand.
If the lady grows uncommonly fretful, finds fault with
the servants, is discontented with the children, and
complains much of the nastiness of everything about
her : these are symptoms which ought not to be neg
lected, yet they sometimes go off without any further
effect. But if, when the husband rises in the morn
ing, he should observe in the yard, a wheelbarrow,
with a quantity of lime in it, or should see certain
buckets filled with a solution of lime in water, there
is no time for hesitation. He immediately locks up
the apartment or closet where his papers, and private
property are kept, and putting the key in his pocket,
betakes himself to flight. A husband, however be
loved, becomes a perfect nuisance during this season
of feminine rage. His authority is superseded, his
commission suspended, and the very scullion who

40 In Town [NO. x4

cleans the brasses in the kitchen becomes of more
importance than him. He has nothing for it but
to abdicate, for a time, and run from an evil which
he can neither prevent nor modify.

The husband gone, the ceremony begins. The
walls are stripped of their furniture — paintings,
prints, and looking-glasses lie in huddled heaps
about the floors : the curtains are torn from their
testers, the beds crammed into windows, chairs and
tables, bedsteads and cradles crowd the yard ; and
the garden fence bends beneath the weight of car
pets, blankets, cloth cloaks, old coats, under-petti-
coats, and ragged breeches.

This ceremony completed, and the house thor
oughly evacuated, the next operation is to smear the
walls and ceilings with brushes, dipped in a solution
of lime called white-wash ; to pour buckets of water
over every floor, and scratch all the partitions and
wainscoats with hard brushes, charged with soft
soap and stone-cutter's sand.

The windows by no means escape the general
Pent-house= deluge. A servant scrambles out upon the pent-
a shed or house, at the risk of her neck, and with a mug in

sloping roof • i • 111 •

projecting her hand, and a bucket within reach, dashes innu-
from the merable gallons of water against the glass panes,

main wall or . , r . ,

building. to tne great annoyance of passengers in the street.
I have been told that an action at law was once
brought against one of these water nymphs, by a
person who had a new suit of clothes spoiled by this
operation : but after long argument it was deter
mined, that no damages could be awarded ; inas
much as the defendant was in the exercise of a legal
right, and not answerable for the consequences.
And so the poor gentleman was doubly non-suited ;

NO. i4] House-cleaning 4. i

for he lost both his suit of clothes and his suit at
law.

These smearings and scratchings, these washings
and dashings, being duly performed, the next cere
monial is to cleanse and replace the distracted fur
niture. You may have seen a house-raising, or a
ship-launch — recollect, if you can, the hurry, bustle,
confusion, and noise of such a scene, and you will
have some idea of this cleansing match. The mis
fortune is, that the sole object is to make things
clean. It matters not how many useful, ornamen
tal, or valuable articles suffer mutilation or death
under the operation. A mahogany chair and a
carved frame undergo the same discipline : they are
to be made clean at all events ; but their preserva
tion is not worthy of attention. For instance : a fine
large engraving is laid flat upon the floor ; a number
of smaller prints are "piled upon it, until the super
incumbent weight cracks the lower glass — but this
is of no importance. A valuable picture is placed
leaning against the sharp corner of a table; others
are made to lean against that, till the pressure of the
whole forces the corner of the table through the
canvas of the first. The frame and glass of a fine
print are to be cleaned ; the spirit and oil used on
this occasion are suffered to leak through and deface
the engraving — no matter ! If the glass is clean
and the frame shines it is sufficient — the rest is not
worthy of consideration. An able arithmetician hath
made a calculation, founded on long experience, and
proved that the losses and destruction incident to
two white-washings are equal to one removal and
three removals equal to one fire.

This cleansing frolic over, matters begin to resume

42 In Town [NO. H

their pristine appearance ; the storm abates, and all
would be well again : but it is impossible that so
great a convulsion in so small a community should
pass over without producing some consequences.
For two or three weeks after the operation, the fam
ily are usually afflicted with sore eyes, sore throats,
or severe colds, occasioned by exhalations from wet
floors and damp walls.

PART II

IN THE COUNTRY

15. A Visit to Mount Vernon

BY BRISSOT DE WARVILLE (1788)

I HASTENED to arrive at Mount Vernon, the seat of
General Washington, ten miles below Alexandria on
the same river. On this route you traverse a consider
able wood, and after having passed over two hills,
you discover a country house of an elegant and
majestic simplicity. It is preceded by grass plats ;
on one side of the avenue are the stables, on the
other a green-house, and houses for a number of
negro mechanics. In a spgf 'ous back yard are
turkies, geese, and other poultry. This house
overlooks the Potowmack, enjoys an extensive pros
pect, has a vast and elevated portico on the front
next the river, and a convenient distribution of the
apartments within.

The General came home in the evening, fatigued
with having been to lay out a new road in some part
of his plantations. You have often heard him com- The Roman
pared to Cincinnatus ; the comparison is doubtless Dictator who
just. This celebrated General is nothing more at power to 1S
present than a good farmer, constantly occupied in return to his
the care of his farm and the improvement of culti-

In the Country

[No. 15

vation. He has lately built a barn, one hundred
feet in length and considerably more in breadth,
destined to receive the productions of his farm, and
to shelter his cattle, horses, asses, and mules. It is
built on a plan sent him by that famous English
farmer, Arthur Young. But the General has much
improved the plan.

THE BANQUET HALL AT MOUNT VERNON.

This building is in brick, it cost but three hundred
pounds; I am sure in France it would have cost
three thousand. He planted this year eleven hun
dred bushels of potatoes. All this is new in Vir
ginia, where they know not the use of barns, and
where they lay up no provisions for their cattle.
His three hundred negroes are distributed in differ
ent log houses, in different parts of his plantation,
which in this neighbourhood consists of ten thousand
acres. Colonel Humphreys, that poet of whom I have
spoken, assured me that the General possesses, in

No. 16]

The Settler

different parts of the country, more than two hundred
thousand acres.

Every thing has an air of simplicity in his house ;
his table is good, but not ostentatious ; and no devi
ation is seen from regularity and domestic economy.
Mrs. Washington superintends the whole, and joins
to the qualities of an excellent house-wife, that simple
dignity which ought to characterize a woman, whose
husband has acted the greatest part on the theatre
of human affairs ; while she possesses that amenity,
and manifests that attention to strangers, which ren
der hospitality so charming. The same virtues are
conspicuous in her interesting niece ; but unhappily
she appears not to enjoy good health.

M. de Chastellux has mingled too much of the
brilliant in his portrait of General Washington. His
eye bespeaks great goodness of heart, manly sense
marks all his answers, and he sometimes animates in
conversation, but he has no characteristic features;
which renders it difficult to seize him. He announces
a profound discretion, and a great diffidence in him
self ; but at the same time, an unshakable firmness
of character, when once he has made his decision.
His modesty is astonishing to a Frenchman; he
speaks of the American war, and of his victories,
as of things in which he had no direction.

Washington
was one of
the most far-
sighted busi
ness men of
his time.

A French
officer. For
the account
of Washing
ton see
Volume II
of these
readers.

1 6. From Poverty to Prosperity

BY BRISSOT DE WARVILLE (1788)

HE who begins a settlement in the woods, is gen
erally a man who has lost his fortune and his credit
in the cultivated part of the state. He emigrates in

48 In the Country [NO. 16

the month of April. His first work is to build a
little cabin for himself and family ; the roof is of
rough hewn wood, the' floor of earth. It is lighted
by the door, or sometimes by a little window with
oiled paper. A more wretched building adjoining it
gives shelter to a cow and two miserable horses.
This done, he attacks the trees that surround his
cabin. To extirpate them by the root, would re
quire too much labour. He contents himself by cut
ting them at two or three feet from the ground. The
space thus cleared is then plowed, and planted with
Indian corn. The soil, being new, requires little cul
ture ; in the month of October it yields a harvest of
forty or fifty bushels the acre. Even from the month
of September, this corn furnishes a plentiful and
agreeable nourishment to his family.

Hunting and fishing, with a little grain, suffice,
during the winter, for the subsistence of his family ;
while the cow and horses of our planter feed on the
poor wild grass, or the buds of trees. During the
first year, he suffers much from cold and hunger ;
but he endures it without repining. Being near the
savages, he adopts their manners; his fatigue is vio
lent, but it is suspended by long intervals of repose:
his pleasures consist in fishing and hunting ; he eats,
drinks, and sleeps in the filth of his little cabin.

Thus roll away the first three years of our planter
in laziness, independence, the variation of pleasure,
and of labour. But population increases in his neigh
bourhood, and then his troubles begin. His cattle
could before run at large ; but now his neighbours
force him to retain them within his little farm.
Formerly the wild beasts gave subsistence to his
family ; they now fly a country which begins to be

NO. 16] The Settler 49

peopled by men, and consequently by enemies. An
increasing society brings regulations, taxes, and the
parade of laws ; and nothing is so terrible to our
independent planter as all these shackles. He will
not consent to sacrifice a single natural right for all
the benefits of government; he abandons then his
little establishment, and goes to seek a second re
treat in the wilderness, where he can recommence
his labours, and prepare a farm for cultivation. Such
are the charms of independence, that many men have
begun the clearing of farms four times in different
parts of this State.

The labour bestowed by the first planter gives some
value to the farm, which now comes to be occupied
by a man of the second class of planters. He begins
by adding to his cabin a house. A saw-mill in the
neighbouring settlement, furnishes him with boards.
His house is covered with shingles, and is two stories
high. He makes a little meadow, plants an orchard
of two of three hundred apple-trees. His stable is
enlarged ; he builds a spacious barn of wood, and
covers it with rye-straw. Instead of planting only
Indian corn, he cultivates wheat and rye ; the last is
destined to make whisky. But the planter manages
ill ; his fields are badly plowed, never manured, and
give but small crops. His cattle break through his
fences, destroy his crops, and often cut off the hopes
of the year. His horses are ill fed, and feeble;
his cattle often die with hunger in the spring ; his
house and his farm give equal proofs of the want of
industry ; the glass of his windows has given place
to old hats and rags. This man is fond of company;
he drinks to excess ; passes much of his time in dis
puting about politics. Thus he contracts debts, and

5 o In the Country [NO. 16

is forced, after some years, to sell his plantation to a
planter of the third and last class.

This is ordinarily a man of property, and of a
cultivated mind. His first object is to convert into
meadow all his land, on which he can conduct water.
He then builds a barn of stone, sometimes a hundred
feet in length, and forty in breadth. This defends
his cattle from cold, and they eat less when kept
warm, than when exposed to the frost. To spare the
consumption of fuel, he makes use of economical
stoves, and by this he saves immense labour in cut
ting and carting wood. He multiplies the objects
of culture ; besides corn, wheat, and rye, he cultivates
oats and buckwheat. Near his house he forms a
garden of one or two acres, which gives him quanti
ties of cabbage, potatoes, and turnips. Near the
spring which furnishes him with water, he builds
a dairy-house. He increases the number, and im
proves the quality of his fruit-trees. His sons are
always at work by his side ; his wife and daughter
quit their wheels for the labours of the harvest. The
last object of industry is to build a house for his own
use. This building is generally of stone ; it is vast,
well distributed, and well furnished. His horses and
cattle, by their good appearance, their strength, and
fecundity, prove that they are well fed, and well
attended. His table abounds with delicate and
various dishes. His kitchen flows with milk and
honey. His wife and daughters manufacture their
clothing. In proportion as he grows rich, he per
ceives the value of the protection of the laws ; he
pays his taxes with punctuality ; he contributes to
the support of churches and schools, as the only
of insuring order and tranquillity.

NO. 17] Connecticut Girls 5 1

1 7. Those Fair Connecticut Girls

BY BRISSOT DE WARVILLE (1778)

CONNECTICUT appears like one continuous town. On
quitting Hartford, you enter Wethersfield, a town not
less elegant, very long, consisting of houses well built.
They tell me it gave birth to the famous Silas Deane,
one of the first promoters of the American revolution,
who from a schoolmaster in this town, was elevated
to the rank of an envoy from Congress to Europe.

Wethersfield is remarkable for its vast fields uni
formly covered with onions, of which great quantities
are exported to the West-Indies. It is likewise re
markable for its elegant meeting-house, or church.
On Sunday it is said to offer an enchanting spectacle,
by the number of young handsome persons who as
semble there, and by the agreeable music with which
they intermingle the divine service.

New Haven yields not to Wethersfield for the beauty
of the fair sex. At their balls during the winter, it is
not rare to see an hundred charming girls, adorned
with those brilliant complexions seldom met with in
journeying to the South, and dressed in elegant sim
plicity. The beauty of complexion is as striking in
Connecticut, as its numerous population. You will
not go into a tavern without meeting with neatness,
decency, and dignity. The tables are served by a
young girl, decent and pretty ; by an amiable mother,
whose age has not effaced the agreeableness of her
features ; by men who have that air of dignity which
the idea of equality inspires ; and who are not ignoble
and base, like the greatest part of our tavern-keepers.
On the road you often meet those fair Connecticut

52 In the Country [NO. is

girls, either driving a carriage, or alone on horse-back,
galloping boldly ; with an elegant hat on the head, a
white apron, and a calico gown ; — usages which prove
at once the early cultivation of their reason, since
they are trusted so young to themselves, the safety
of the road, and the general innocence of manners.
You will see them hazarding themselves alone, with
out protectors, in the public stages — I am wrong to
say hazarding ; who can offend them ? They are
here under the protection of public morals, and of
their own innocence : it is the consciousness of this
innocence, which renders them so complaisant, and
so good ; for a stranger takes them by the hand, and
laughs with them, and they are not offended at it.

1 8. Mary will Smile

BY WILLIAM CLIFTON (1795)

THE morn was fresh, and pure the gale,

When Mary, from her cot a rover,
Pluck'd many a wild rose of the vale

To bind the temples of her lover.
As near his little farm she stray'd,

Where birds of love were ever pairing,
She saw her William in the shade,

The arms of ruthless war preparing.
"Though now," he cried, " I seek the hostile plain,
Mary shall smile, and all be fair again."

She seized his hand, and " Ah ! " she cried,
" Wilt thou to camps and war a stranger

Desert thy Mary's faithful side,
And bare thy life to every danger ?

NO. 19] The Shaking Quakers 5 3

Yet go, brave youth ! to arms away !

My maiden hands for fight shall dress thee,
And when the drum beats far away,

I'll drop a silent tear and bless thee.
Return'd with honor, from the hostile plain,
Mary will smile, and all be fair again.

The bugles through the forest wind,

The woodland soldiers call to battle,
Be some protecting angel kind,

And guard thy life when cannons rattle ! "
She sung, and as the rose appears

In sunshine, when the storm is over,
A smile beam'd sweetly through her tears,

The blush of promise to her lover.
Return'd in triumph from the hostile plain,
All shall be fair, and Mary smile again.

19. The Shaking Quakers

BY MOSES GUEST (1796)

SUNDAY, October 10. Having heard various ac- The shaking
counts of the very singular mode of worship prac- Quakers or
tised by the people called Shaking Quakers, I

this day went to visit them. I found the house at ties. the inen

which they were assembled, situated nine miles north- ^separate"

west of Albany, and two miles from the Mohawk large houses.

river ; it is built of logs, neatly squared, and is fifty j^n ve"^

feet in length, and twenty-four in width, with a chim- industrious

ney at each end. When I entered this building, I and well-to-

beheld twenty-four men dancing at one end of the present few

54 In t/ie Country [NO. 19

young people room, and twenty women at the other. They ap-
-sect Peared to be from the age of fourteen to eighty

is dying out. years ; and were formed four deep. Two of their
elders were singing a song tune, called the rose tree.
They kept good time, though they frequently trem
bled as if much convulsed — this they call the work
ing of the spirit.

After continuing in this way for about an hour and
a half, the elders stopped singing ; this stopped the
dancing for the present. The men then put on their
coats, and they all retired to a house, but a short
distance from that in which they had been dancing;
where they partook of some refreshment; but soon
commenced singing a kind of gibberish, which they
call an unknown tongue. They say they can speak
several different languages, and though the living
cannot understand them, they are intelligible to the
departed spirits, with whom they say they hold fre
quent converse.

After about an hour's intermission they assembled
again, and formed two deep ; they then all sang in
their unknown tongue, appearing, at times, to be very
much convulsed. They continued dancing and trem
bling half an hour ; then ceased singing, and after
many heavy sighs and groans, and much twisting
and trembling, one of their elders, in broken accents,
muttered out, " Let us, my dear friends, endeavour
to praise God in the dance; prepare yourselves."
The men then put off their coats and waistcoats ;
then after opening their collars, and tying up their
sleeves, they formed four deep, the women also form
ing in the same manner. One of their elders then,
after groaning and trembling for a few minutes, said,
" My dear friends, you that are blest with the gift of

NO. i9] The Shaking Quakers 5 5

songs, I hope will praise God by singing a few tunes
for us." Immediately two young men stepped out
from the ranks, and began to sing, at which time they
all commenced dancing.

In this way they continued about an hour, appear
ing, at times, very much agitated. They then all
stopped dancing, and one of their elders, after vio
lently shaking his head and arms, thus addressed
them — " My dear friends, I hope you will endeavor
to walk worthy of the vocation wrherewith you are
called ; and praise God for separating you from the
wicked world ; for in like manner as Lot escaped out
of Sodom, so have you, my friends, escaped, and have
been separated from the wicked world." He was
soon seized with a very violent shaking of the head,
after which, with a heavy sigh and groan, he told his
trembling audience that they might put on their gar
ments and retire, which they soon did.

They say that all the churches in the world, except
themselves, are antichristian. They also say they
are commissioned to judge the world ; that the books
are now open ; and that the souls of all those persons
who have died are daily appearing before them and
that all who have died in an imperfect state have gone
to a place of torment, there to pay the debt due to
divine justice, by suffering in proportion to their sins ;
and that after passing through several degrees of
punishment, and paying the whole debt, they then
appear before them, are acquitted, and sent to heaven.
If any man comes to them for instruction, whose hair
is longr they read to such person the i ith chapter of
ist Corinthians, I4th verse; they then inform him, if
he wishes to be instructed, he must have his hair cut
short, as he wears the mark of the beast.

56 In the Country [NO. 20

20. Home, Sweet Home !

BY JOHN HOWARD PAYNE (1823)

'Mm pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home ;
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with
elsewhere.

Home, Home, Sweet, Sweet Home !

There's no place like Home !

An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain,
O, give me my lowly thatched cottage again !
The birds singing gayly, that came at my call —
Give me them, — and the peace of mind, dearer than
all!

Home, Home, Sweet, Sweet Home !

There's no place like Home !

21. Incidents in the Life of a
Bound Boy

BY ASA G. SHELDON (1797)

ON April I4th, 1797, while I was still in my ninth
year, Mr. Daniel Parker came to my father's house
to get a boy to live with him. Mother said he
might take his choice, Samuel or Asa. " I will take
Asa," he said, " because he is the youngest." Ac
cordingly, my father went over with me to the
Parker place.

No. 21]

A Bound Boy

I found the family to consist of Mr. Parker, who
was about forty years of age, and wife, of nearly the
same age ; David, about eighteen and two daugh
ters, Patty and Sally, who were a few years younger.

AN OX CART.

Mrs. Parker told me to call her " mother," and cer
tainly she acted the part of a mother to me. She
fed me when hungry ; dried my clothes when wet ;
cared for my every want ; and when troubles as
sailed that she could not alleviate, she pitied and
sympathised with me. In short, she was as kind as
my own mother.

On first entering the house, I found no one at
home except Mrs. Parker and her two daughters.
After sitting a few minutes, she said, " You may go
to the barn and see the calves." There were six of
them, and I employed the forenoon in cleaning the
stalls and clearing up. After dinner I went with
Mr. Parker to split oak butts into wheel spokes.
Thus ended my first day's servitude.

58 In the Country [NO. 21

Our spring ploughing that year was done by four
oxen and a horse, and it was my constant business
to drive them. In hoeing, the plan was for me to
take every alternate hill and follow back on the
same row, thus keeping alongside the men. The
summer passed pleasantly away. I had the privi
lege of attending winter school, and as is common
for youth, formed a lasting attachment to a school
mate — Daniel Putman, a boy nearly my size and age.

My father needed a cow ; he agreed with Mr.
Parker to take one for twenty-two dollars, and I was
to work for him another year, or till the next May, to
pay for her, and I was to have winter schooling. Mr.
Parker was so miserly, that he was unwilling to let me
slide on the ice, because it wore my shoes out ; but
thanks to Mother Parker's good will, I found frequent
opportunities to enjoy an hour on the ponds.

At the commencement of my third year, Mr. Parker
frequently urged that I should be bound to him, tell
ing my father that he would give him twenty dollars
in cash, and would give me one hundred dollars on
becoming twenty-one. To this my father agreed, and
the necessary documents were signed without mother's
knowledge. Great was her anguish on learning that
her son was a " bond slave," as she was pleased to
call it.

In my fourth year of service, there was no snow
for sledding till February or March, when a nice fall
of snow coming, created an ambition in me to drive
a load of wood to Salem town and sell it. When at
Salem a baker agreed with me for a load of faggots,
or twigs bound in bundles, for heating ovens. With
the hope that Mr. Parker would give me all the
money if I could contrive to make them without tak-

No. 21]

A Bound Boy

was 16%
cents, and
the " nine-

ing his time, I kept my hatchet in the cow pasture,
and when I found the cows handily I could make
eight or ten bundles, and then run and catch up with
them. If I did not find them readily, I made less,
and so on.

I drove the load to Salem, and brought home five
dollars and eighty cents and gave it to Mr. Parker,
and he was niggardly enough to offer me twelve and
a half cents for all my labor, hurry and toil. Mother
Parker seeing me about to take it, gave a stamp with
her foot, when the ninepence dropped on the floor, The " New
and I hastened out of the house. Soon after, Mother
Parker went to Salem herself and brought home a
nice hat for me, that cost three dollars. There was
but one other hat worn in town that was so nice. On pence was
presenting it she said, " There Asa, that will do you i2Va cents.
more good than ninepence."

Once in April, when the snow was falling fast, Mr.
Parker came to me and said, "If you will leave vine
stripping and go and get the sheep up, I will pay
you for it." I did, and found a wee little lamb in
the snow. Taking off my frock I wrapped it up
and brought it home. " Now, Asa," said Mr. Parker,
" if you will make that lamb live, you may have it to
pay for going after the sheep, and all the ewe lambs
she has I will keep for you for their wool, and the
male lambs you may sell to the butchers." All
night I watched the wee bit of a creature and in the
morning it was able to draw its own "rations" from
its dam.

Early in the autumn, the frigate Essex was to be
launched. All the boys in the neighborhood were
going. I wanted to go, but Mr. Parker said no.
And it was not till several boys had interceded with

60 In the Country [NO. 2I

him that he gave his consent. We started at mid
night, eighteen in all, and walked to Salem, saw the
Essex leave " the home of her birth," and slide gently
down the greased ways, with her precious cargo of
curious mortals, anxious to catch the first ride in her
as she bathed herself for the first time in the briny
deep.

Afterwards we walked about town to see the
" elephant," ate gingerbread and pies, and toward
night set our faces toward home. It was a most
formidable journey for boys of our age, and before
we reached home our fatigue was such that we lay
down on the ground to rest every half mile.

In the summer season, brown bread and milk was
the constant food, for the whole family, morning and
night. By brown bread is meant bread made of
rye and Indian meal, raised and baked in large
loaves in a brick oven. Supper for Saturday was
uniformly roast potatoes and salt; no butter was
used. The winter rations were beef -broth, with
brown bread crumbled in, and for a change, bean
porridge. This porridge was made by boiling a
piece of pork, with a handful of beans, till they had
become soft and smashed ; these were then dipped
into dishes with bread crumbled in. Our Sunday
dinner was invariably baked beans with salt pork,
and a baked Indian pudding. A little butter was
allowed for the pudding.

The Thanksgiving festival was indeed a luxury.
We commonly had fowls and roasted pork, or spare-
rib, and plum puddings, with as many as three kinds
of pies, — mince, apple and pumpkin. We had as
nice a treat at Thanksgiving then, as they have now,
and ate it with a greater zest.

NO. 22] Bells 6 1

My clothes in summer were a straw hat, tow
shirt and tow trousers. When the mornings were
cool, I put on my vest such as it was, and my frock
if required. I had no shoes until the ground began
to freeze.

For winter I wore striped blue and white wool
len trousers, fulled cloth vest and jacket. They were
commonly made of Parker's or Dave's old cast-off
ones, which good Mother Parker took care to have
well mended, much to my comfort. I was never
allowed an overcoat while I lived there, or a pair of
boots. I was allowed but one pair of shoes for two
years. Parker used to tell me, when I went to get
my foot measured, to put on two pair of stockings,
and tell the shoemaker to be sure and make them
large enough to last two years.

The first year I put old flannel, or baize as it was
then called, around my feet to keep the shoes from
slipping and wearing out my stockings. Mr. Parker
kept shoemaking tools on hand, and when they
needed repairs, would tap them with old upper stuff Tap=puton
and fill them full of nails to make them last well; asole'
and Mother Parker would make me leggings from
his old stocking legs.

22. The Bells

BY GEORGE SHELDON (1800)

IT was the custom in my younger days to toll the
Passing Bell on the death of any person in the com
munity. Nine strokes of the bell at half minute in
tervals, announced the death of a man, six that of a

In the Country

[NO. 22

woman, and three that of a child. After a short
pause a succession of quick strokes gave the age in
years, of the departed.

As every dangerous sickness was known to the
whole community, all activities ceased at the first
peal. In the silence, everybody waited with bated
breath to the last, to know what family among them
was now bereaved, r , and where kindly

help was needed
How long this
isted, I do not
discontinued about
ago. At funerals
called together by
Minute strokes
procession moved
continued until the
spoken. Then at
service was con-
strokes giving the
From early times
bell was a regular
universally under-
signal for bed-time,

AN OLD BELFRY.

and most welcome,
custom had ex-
know, but it was
forty or fifty years
the people were
the tolling bell,
were given as the
to the grave and
closing words were
a given signal, the
eluded by rapid
age of the departed,
the nine o'clock
institution. It was
stood to be the
and it was an un

written law that every body should give heed to it.

Custom and courtesy alike demanded that all visit
ors who had dropped in to make a call or spend the
evening, should make a move to do up the knitting
work or look for the hat, at the first stroke of the
bell. To any polite request for a longer tarry, the
sufficient answer was, " Oh, no, the bell is ringing."
It was an old and common saying on such occasions,
" It is nine o'clock, time for honest men to go home
and rogues about their business."

NO. 22] Bells 6 3

This was doubtless the Curfew Bell of Old Eng
land, established by William the Conqueror, and
brought over by our fathers. The name " Curfew," "Curfew"
however, was never heard this side of the water. It ^over the
was considered by the Puritan, I suppose, analo- fire."
gous to dancing round the Maypole, Christmas fes
tivity, and other things on account of which the
emigrant had shaken off the dust from his feet.

As there were few clocks and fewer watches, the
nine o'clock bell was a great convenience. Of course
in cases of calls, or evening parties, the participants
did not feel obliged to be " tied to the bell-rope."

To supply the lack of almanacs, as well as of time
pieces, it was the custom to wind up the nine o'clock
bell with light, quick taps, indicating the day of the
month.

The bell was also rung in summer at twelve
o'clock M. This was chiefly for the benefit of those
working in the meadows — generally the larger part
of the male population. The sound filled the waiting
ear of tired man and beast with joyful music.

It was not a summons to home and a hot dinner,
but to a welcome hour of rest after six or seven hours
of labor. In planting time there was a team, usually
two yoke of oxen, though often three or four yoke
with a horse for leader, a man for plough holder and
a boy for driver. These had been slowly but steadily
turning the foot deep furrows.

The team was first cared for. After being watered
at the most convenient pond or stream, the oxen were
chained to the wheels on either side of the cart. They
were made happy with a bountiful supply of fragrant
hay from the big bundle. The horse tied on one
side took his rations over the foreboard of the cart.

64 In the Country [No.23

The hungry men and boys seated themselves on
the ground under the spreading branches of the dinner
tree, to discuss the contents of the ample dinner box.

The beef, pork, turnips, and potatoes, the bread
and butter, the gingerbread and nut cakes, disappeared
like magic, while the jug of cider passed from hand
to hand and mouth to mouth.

23. The Tax on Old Bachelors

BY SEBA SMITH (about 1830)

I DREAMED a dream in the midst of my slumbers,

And, as fast as I dreamed, it was coined into numbers ;

My thoughts ran along in such beautiful metre,

I'm sure I ne'er saw any poetry sweeter.

It seemed that a law had been recently made,

That a tax on old bachelors' pates should be laid ;

And in order to make them all willing to marry,

The tax was as large as a man could well carry.

The Bachelors grumbled, and said 'twas no use,

'Twas cruel injustice and horrid abuse,

And declared that, to save their own heart's blood

from spilling,

Of such a vile tax they would ne'er pay a shilling.
But the Rulers determined their scheme to pursue,
So they set all the bachelors up at vendue.
A crier was sent thro' the town to and fro,
To rattle his bell, and his trumpet to blow,
And to bawl out at all he might meet in the way,
" Ho ! forty old bachelors sold here to-day."
And presently all the old maids in the town,
Each one in her very best bonnet and gown,

NO. 24] Trade without Money 65

From thirty to sixty, fair, plain, red, and pale,

Of every description, all flocked to the sale.

The auctioneer then in his labors began,

And called out aloud, as he held up a man,

" How much for a bachelor ? who wants to buy ? "

In a twink every maiden responded — " I — I."

In short, at a hugely extravagant price,

The bachelors all were sold off in a trice :

And forty old maidens, some younger, some older,

Each lugged an old bachelor home on her shoulder.

24. Trade without Money

BY WILLIAM ASHE (1806)

THE storekeepers are obliged to keep every article
which it is possible that the farmer and manufacturer
may want. Each of their shops exhibit a complete
medley, — a magazine where are to be had both a needle
and an anchor, a tin pot and a large copper boiler, a
child's whistle and a pianoforte, a ring dial and a clock,
a skein of thread and trimmings of lace, a check frock
and a muslin gown, a frieze coat and a superfine cloth,
a glass of whiskey and a barrel of brandy, a gill of
vinegar and hogshead of Madeira wine, &c. Hence
you will perceive that money is not always necessary as
a circulating medium : however, as farmers and manu
facturers advance in business, and find their produce
more than equal to the wants of their families, they
contract with the storekeeper to receive the annual
balance of the latter, either in cash, or in land to an
equal amount ; for though no person cultivates a
tenth part of the land that he possesses, every one

66 In the Country [NO. 24

wants to buy more. Thus the great landholders ulti
mately absorb all the hard money ; and as they prin
cipally reside in the large towns in the Atlantic States,
the money finds its way back to those, and leaves many
places here without a single dollar. This causes dis
tress to small farmers who supply the markets with
provisions; for whatever they have to sell, whether
trivial or important, they receive in return nothing
but an order on a store for the value in goods ; and
as the wants of such persons are few, they seldom
know what articles to take. The storekeepers turn
this circumstance to advantage, and frequently force
on the customer a thing for which he has no use ; or,
what is worse, when the order is trifling, tell him to
sit down at the door and drink the amount if he
chooses. As this is often complied with, a market
day is mostly a scene of drunkenness and contention,
fraud, cunning, and duplicity ; the storekeeper deny
ing the possession of a good article, till he fails in
imposing a bad one. I have known a person ask for
a pair of shoes, and receive for answer that there
were no shoes in the store, but some capital gin that
could be recommended to him. I have heard another
ask for a rifle gun, and be answered that there were
no rifles, but that he could be accommodated with the
best Dutch looking glasses and German flutes in the
western country. Another was directed by his wife
to bring her a warming pan, smoothing irons, and
scrubbing brushes ; but these were denied ; and a
wooden cuckoo-clock, which the children would not
take a week to demolish, was sent home in their
stead. I could not help smiling at these absurdities,
though I believe they deserve the name of imposi
tions, till an incident reduced me to the condition of

NO. 25] Robert of Lincoln 67

those whom I have just described. I rode an excel
lent horse to the head of the waters ; and finding him
of no further use from my having to take boat there,
I proposed selling him to the best bidder. I was
offered in exchange for him salt, flour, hogs, land,
cast iron, salt pans, Indian corn, whiskey — in short,
every thing but what I wanted, which was money.
The highest offer made, was cast iron salt pans to
the amount of one hundred and thirty dollars. I
asked the proprietor of this heavy commodity, how
much cash he would allow me instead of such an
incumbrance ; his answer was, without any shame
or hesitation, forty dollars at most. I preferred the
pans ; though they are to be exchanged again for
glass bottles at Pittsburg, tobacco or hemp in Ken
tucky, and dollars in New Orleans. These various
commercial processes may occupy twelve months ;
nor am I then certain of the amount, unless I give
thirty per cent to secure it.

The words buy and sell are nearly unknown here ;
in business nothing is heard but the word trade.
" Will you trade your watch, your gun, pistols,
horses ? &c." means, " Will you change your watch,
gun, &c. for corn, pigs, cattle, Indian meal ? &c."
But you must expect all this from the absence of

money.

•*

25. Robert of Lincoln

BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT (1849)

MERRILY swinging on brier and weed,
Near to the nest of his little dame,

Over the mountain-side or mead,

Robert of Lincoln is telling his name :

In the Country

[No. 25

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Snug and safe is that nest of ours,
Hidden among the summer flowers.
Chee, chee, chee.

BOBOLINKS.

Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest,

Wearing a bright black wedding coat ;
White are his shoulders and white his crest.
Hear him call in his merry note :

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Look, what a nice new coat is mine,
Sure there was never a bird so fine.
Chee, chee, chee.

NO. 25] Robert of Lincoln 69

Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,

Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings,
Passing at home a patient life,

Broods in the grass while her husband sings :
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink;
Brood, kind creature ; you need not fear
Thieves and robbers while I am here.
Chee, chee, chee.

Modest and shy as a nun is she ;

One weak chirp is her only note.
Braggart and prince of braggarts is he,
Pouring boasts from his little throat :
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink ;
Never was I afraid of man ;
Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can !
Chee, chee, chee.

Six white eggs on a bed of hay,

Flecked with purple, a pretty sight !
There as the mother sits all day,

Robert is singing with all his might :
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink ;
Nice good wife, that never goes out,
Keeping house while I frolic about.
Chee, chee, chee.

Soon as the little ones chip the shell,
Six wide mouths are open for food ;

Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well,
Gathering seeds for the hungry brood.

jo In the Country [NO. 26

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,

Spink, spank, spink ;
This new life is likely to be
Hard for a gay young fellow like me.
Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln at length is made

Sober with work and silent with care ;
Off is his holiday garment laid,
Half forgotten that merry air :
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink ;
Nobody knows but my mate and I
Where our nest and our nestlings lie.
Chee, chee, chee.

Summer wanes ; the children are grown ;

Fun and frolic no more he knows ;
Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone ;
Off he flies, and we sing as he goes :
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink ;
When you can pipe that merry old strain,
Robert of Lincoln, come back again.
Chee, chee, chee.

26. An Old Fashioned Reading
Book

This piece is Mrs. Lismore. You are quite breathless, Charles,

sho^what where have y°u been running so violently ?

poor readers Charles. From the poultry yard, mamma, where I

children had have been diverting myself with the bravado of the

NO. 26] Reading Book 7 1

old gander. I did not observe him till he came tow- three quar-
ard me very fiercely, when, to induce him to pursue tersofacen-

-r r i • TT r 11 1-11 -i turyago.lt is

me, I ran from mm. He followed, till, supposing he taken from a
had beaten me, he returned to the geese, who ap- b°ok called
peared to receive him with acclamations of joy, cack- tionTon Cat
ling very loud, and seeming actually to laugh, and to urai History
enjoy the triumph of their gallant chief. Children5"^

Emma. I wish I had been with you, Charles ; I
have often admired the gambols of these beautiful
birds, and wondered how they came by the appella
tion of silly, which is generally bestowed on them.
I remember Martha, our nursery maid, used often to
call me a silly goose. How came they to deserve that
term, mamma ? they appear to me to have as much
intelligence as any of the feathered tribe.

Mrs. Lismore. I have often thought with you,
Emma, and supposed that term, like many others,
misapplied, for want of examining into the justice of
so degrading an epithet.

CJiarles. What a superb bird this is, Emma; I
should think it quite a treasure.

Mrs. Lismore. It would be a very troublesome one
to you, Charles, and its loquacious disposition would
ill accord with the silence requisite for a student.
But this is indeed a beautiful little animal ; it is a
paroquet, and is a native of the Brazils. They are
more highly prized than any of the species. See how
rich and variegated its plumage is, what an elegant
crest adorns its head ! I think it may be called the
sovereign of birds, at least in point of beauty, and
its crest its crown. Do you know its character,
Emma ?

Emma. My uncle said he purchased it when very
young, and has had it in his possession three years ;

72 In the Country [NO. 27

it is extremely docile, very good natured and amus
ing, speaks the English language almost as intelligibly
as its master, and has a great variety of songs and
phrases and playful tricks in store, with which it
endeavours to please.

27. A Hunter hides from a
Storm in a Hollow Tree

BY JOHN A. McCLUNG (1777)

WITH the Indians nothing can make up for igno
rance of the woods. Young Smith, for losing himself,
was degraded from the rank of a warrior, and reduced
to that of a boy. Two years afterwards, he regained
his rank, and was presented with a rifle, as a reward
for an exhibition of hardihood and presence of mind.
Soon after he went out to hunt, in company with an
old chief, and several other Indians. A deep snow
lay upon the ground, and the weather was tempestu
ous. On their way home, some racoon tracks were
seen in the snow, and Smith was directed to follow
them and observe where the creatures treed.

He was thus led off to a much greater distance
than was supposed, and the hunters were several
miles ahead of him, when he attempted to rejoin
them. At first their tracks were very plain in the
snow, and although night approached, and the camp
was distant, Smith felt no anxiety ; but his situation
became critical about dusk. The weather became
suddenly much colder, the wind blew a perfect hurri
cane, and whirlwinds of snow blinded his eyes and
filled up the tracks of his companions. He had with

NO. 27j A Hunter Hides 73

him neither a gun, flint, nor steel — no shelter but a
blanket, and no weapon but a tomahawk.

For several hours he plodded on, ignorant of his Before
route, stumbling over logs, and chilled with cold, until matcheswere

. • invented

the snow became so deep as seriously to check his people made
footsteps, and the flakes fell so thick as to render it a fire
impossible to see where he was going. He shouted
aloud for help, but no answer was returned, and as steel and
the storm every instant became more outrageous, he
began to think that his last hour had come. Provi- punk,
dentially, in stumbling on through the snow, he came
to a large sycamore, with a con
siderable opening on the wind
ward side. He hastily crept
in and found the hollow large
enough to accommodate him for
the night, if the weather side
could be closed so as to exclude
the snow and wind, which was
beating against it with great
violence. He instantly went to
work with his tomahawk and cut
out a number of sticks, which
he placed upright against the
hole, and piled brush against it
in great quantities, leaving a
space open for himself to creep
in. He then broke up a decayed
log, and cutting it into small
pieces, pushed them one by one
into the hollow of the tree, and

lastly crept in himself. With these pieces he stopped
up the remaining holes of his den, until not a chink
was left to admit the light.

74 In the Country [NO. 27

The snow, drifting in large quantities, was soon
banked up against his defences, and completely shel
tered him from the storm, which still continued to
rage with undiminished fury. He then danced vio
lently in the centre of his den for two hours, until he
was sufficiently warmed, and wrapping himself in his
blanket, he slept soundly until morning. He awoke in
utter darkness, and groping about, he found his door
and attempted to push it away, but the snow had
drifted against it in such quantities, that it resisted
his utmost efforts. His hair now began to bristle, for
he feared that he had with great ingenuity contrived
to bury himself alive. He lay down again for several
hours, meditating upon what he should do, and
whether he should not attempt to cut through the
tree with his tomahawk — but at length he made one
more desperate effort to push away the door, and suc
ceeded in moving it several inches, when a great
bank of snow fell in upon him from above, convincing
him at once of the immense quantity which had fallen.

At length he burrowed his way into the upper air,
and found it broad daylight, and the weather calm
and mild. The snow lay nearly four feet deep — but
he was now enabled to see his way clearly, and by
following the marks in the bark of the trees, he was
able to return to camp. He was received with loud
shouts of joy and congratulation, but not a single
question was asked until he had despatched a hearty
meal of venison, hominy, and sugar.

The old chief, Tecaughnetanego, then presented
him with his own pipe, and they all remained silent
until Smith had smoked. When they saw him com
pletely refreshed, the venerable chief addressed him
in a mild and affectionate manner, (for Smith at that

NO. 28] Camp Meeting 7 5

time, was a mere boy in their eyes) and desired to
hear a particular account of the manner in which he
had passed the night. Not a word was spoken until
Smith had concluded his story, and then he was
greeted on all sides with shouts of approbation.

Tecaughnetanego arose and addressed him in a
short speech, in which his courage, hardihood and
presence of mind were highly commended. He ex
horted the young brave to go on as he had begun,
and assured him that one day he would make a very
great man. He told him that all his brothers rejoiced
in his safety, as much as they had lamented his sup
posed death, that they were preparing snow shoes
to go in search of him when he appeared ; for as he
had been brought up effeminately among the whites,
they never expected to see him alive. In conclusion,
he was promoted again from the rank of a boy to that
of a warrior, and assured that when they sold skins
in the spring, at Detroit, they would purchase for him
a new rifle. And they faithfully observed their

promise.

— -* —

28. A Georgia Camp Meeting

BY EMILY BURKE (about 1840)

To the country people in the Northern part of
Georgia, the season of the annual camp-meeting
furnishes a date, from which and before which, all
the most important events of the whole year are
reckoned. This convocation is to them, what the
Thanksgiving day is to the New England people, and
it occurs at about the same time of the year. By it,
the time for the closing of the summer schools and

7 6 In the Country [NO. 2s

commencement of the winter schools is regulated, and
many business transactions refer to this time, and for
months previous to an event of so much importance
to all, every member in the family from the oldest
to the youngest, anticipated an addition to his or her
wardrobe. This is so well understood by the city
merchants and milliners, that they endeavor to make
their arrangements, if possible, to meet all the de
mands upon their stock of fancy and dry goods, during
this, as I have heard them say, their best harvest-time
in all the year ; while Christians in anticipation of
a glorious revival of religion, often recall to mind the
most eloquent speakers of the past year, and ask who
are expected to be the coming season ; and the prin
cipal topics of conversation among the young and
gay will be, costly and elegant articles of dress, who
was the " belle " last year and who probably will be
this. This rage for dress is not confined to the
parlor and keeping rooms, but extends with equal
ardor to the kitchen and field, and you might hear the
cook at the corn mill and women bending over the
plough, each saying, she must have a new pair of shoes,
or a new frock, or a new handkerchief for her head.

All past events are reckoned from the last camp-
meeting. For instance, you will hear one woman
say, she has had a bad cough ever since the camp-
meeting, such a person was taken sick with a fever
soon after the camp-meeting, another died or was
married so many months after the camp-meeting.

The removal of planters from their summer to
their winter residences occurs at this time, for the
hospitable and generous planter of the South, on
occasions such as I am now describing, not only
makes provision for the entertainment of his own

NO. 28] Camp Meeting 7 j

family and numerous relations, but also for a large
company of strangers ; therefore he is obliged to
take with him all those household conveniences that
are indispensable to the comfort and good order of a
well regulated family at home. Consequently, they
make their arrangements, in order to avoid the trouble
of one extra move in the year, to go with all their
goods and chattels from their summer homes to the
camp-ground, and from thence to their winter quarters.

The camp-ground I visited was a beautiful square
lot of forest land about one acre and a half in extent,
laid out amid a native and gigantic growth of oaks
several miles from any plantation. On every side of
the square, all fronting the centre, the fathers of the
principal families constituting these assemblies have
each their own family residence. These little habi
tations are built of logs, having. a piazza in front, and
their number is sufficient to enclose the entire square ;
while in the background are arranged all the out
houses belonging to each, such as the kitchens, stables
for the horses, as also pens for the swine and folds
for the herds and flocks, and coops for the chickens,
all of which have been previously stalled for the com
ing slaughter ; and I ought not to forget to mention
in this connection, the kennels for the hounds and
watch dogs, which are needed even more at such
places than on the plantations, and which in many
parts of Georgia and South Carolina, constitute the
only police of the place.

For several days previous to the commencement of
worship, persons from all quarters within the distance
of fifteen or twenty miles, are busy in the transpor
tation of all kinds of food and articles of furniture :
chairs, tables, beds and bedsteads, cradles for babies,

In the Country [NO.

and coops for chickens, all heaped upon cotton Jer
sey carts, together with scores of men-servants and
women-servants accompanied by a large supply of
the canine race equally as well pleased as their mas
ters with every thing new and exciting, are all on
the move to the same spot.

After every article of household furniture is ar
ranged in its proper place, as the sailor would say,
in "sea trim" and every thing reduced to order and
quiet, the whole scene within the camp-ground as
sumes an aspect not only imposing but beautiful and
romantic in the extreme, and particularly so in the
evening and during the intervals of worship, when
hundreds of young and joyous people, richly and
gaily dressed, could be seen moving in all directions,
or standing in small groups beneath the shade of
some wide spreading tree.

Every man has erected in front of his own house
a platform about six feet from the ground and four
or five feet square, upon which is laid earth to the
depth of about one foot, for the purpose of making a
foundation for a fire, which is lighted every evening
as soon as the stars begin to appear. This light is
kept burning till towards midnight by a constant
supply of pitch wood furnished by boys whose busi
ness it is to see that the whole camp-ground is suffi
ciently lighted during the convocation. These great
fires at this elevation sent forth such a broad and
brilliant sheet of light in all directions, that those
who seated themselves in front of their dwellings
could read with perfect ease without the aid of any
other light, and while millions of sparks emitted
from the burning fagots were carried up amid
wreaths of curling smoke and lost among the thick

NO. 28j Camp Meeting 79

boughs of the trees. The older members of the
families would seat themselves beneath the piazzas
to witness the pastimes of the children, all collected
together to vie with each other in the dexterity of
trundling the hoop, throwing the ball, jumping the
rope or running races. In all these sports the dogs
sustained a part by no means the least conspicuous,
with caninish glee running to pick up the fallen hoop,
bringing back the ball that had bounded too far, and
in the race, often outstripping all the children.

The first thing in the morning, just as the sun is
rising, this sleeping congregation is aroused from its
slumbers by several loud and long blasts from a hunt
ing trumpet, to attend early prayers, consequently
with a slight attention to the toilet, the members
of each family are soon collected together for wor
ship. I shall never forget the impression made upon
my mind, the first time I ever had the pleasure of be
ing present at one of these scenes. On that morning
as soon as we were assembled the master of the family
arose and in a sweet, clear and strong voice, sung,

"A charge to keep I have,
A God to glorify.11

We were assembled in that part of the house called
the " dining hall," the front of which was all open
to the public view, and as all the other families
were similarly situated, the songs of praise which
went up from each could be distinctly heard by all
the rest, as they resounded that morning through
every part of the camp-ground. I never expect to
enjoy another scene like this beneath the skies, but
in the language of the poet I could sincerely say,

" My willing soul would stay,
In such a scene as this.11

PART III

TRAVELLERS

29, A Visit to the Natural Bridge

BY THE MARQUIS DE CHASTELLUX (1782)

I AM too near the Natural Bridge to stop at other The Natural
objects. We set out at nine o'clock in the morning, Bridge is in

, , , 1 1 11 i r • i the moun-

and to say the truth, rather heedlessly ; for in these tains of west-
mountains, where there are either too many or too em Virginia.
few roads, people always think they have given
sufficient directions to travellers, who seldom fail to
go astray. This is the common fault of those who
instruct others in what they themselves are well ac
quainted with ; nor are the roads to knowledge exempt
from this inconvenience. After riding about two
miles however, we luckily met a man who had just
got his horse shod at a neighbouring forge, and was
returning home, followed by two or three couple of
hounds.

We soon entered into conversation with him, and
what seldom happens in America, he was curious to
know who I was, and whither I was going. My
quality of a General Officer in the French service,
and the desire I expressed of seeing the wonders of
his country, inspired him with a kind of affection for
G 81

Travellers

[No. 29

me, and he offered to be our conductor. He led us
sometimes through little paths, at others through
woods, but continually climbing or descending moun-

THE NATURAL BRIDGE.

tains ; so that without a guide, nothing short of witch
craft could have enabled us to find the road. After
we had thus travelled for two hours, we at last de
scended a steep declivity, and then mounted another ;
during which time he endeavoured to render the
conversation more interesting. At last, pushing his
horse on briskly, and stopping suddenly, he said to
me, " You desire to see the Natural Bridge, don't
you Sir ? You are now upon it, alight and go twenty

NO. 29] Natural Bridge 83

steps either to the right or left, and you will see this
prodigy." I had perceived that there was on each
side a considerable deep hollow, but the trees had
prevented me from forming any judgment, or paying
much attention to it.

Approaching the precipice, I saw at first two great
masses or chains of rocks, which formed the bottom
of a ravine, or rather of an immense abyss ; but
placing myself, not without precaution, upon the
brink of the precipice, I saw that these two buttresses
were joined under my feet, forming a vault, of which
I could yet form no idea but of its height. After
enjoying this magnificent but tremendous spectacle,
which many persons could not bear to look at, I went
to the western side, the aspect of which was not less
imposing, but more picturesque.

But it is at the foot of these rocks, on the edge of
a little stream which flows under this immense arch,
that we must judge of its astonishing structure. The
arch is not complete, the eastern part of it not being
so large as the western, because the mountain is more
elevated on this than on the opposite side. It is very
extraordinary that at the bottom of the stream there
appear no considerable ruins, no trace of any violent
laceration, which could have destroyed the kernel of
the rock, and have left the upper part alone subsist
ing ; for that is the only hypothesis that can account
for such a prodigy. We can have no possible recourse
either to a volcano or a deluge, no trace of a sudden
conflagration, or of a slow and tedious undermining
by the water.

84 Travellers [NO. 30

30. A Tavern near the Hudson

BY MARQUIS DE CHASTELLUX (1788)

BEING very dark, it was not without difficulty I
passed two or three rivulets, on very small bridges,
and got to Courtheath's Tavern. This Inn is lately
established, and kept by young people without for
tune, consequently the best parts of the furniture are
the owner and his family. Mr. Courtheath is a young
man of f our-and-twenty, who was formerly a travelling
dealer in stuffs, toys. The depreciation of paper
money, or perhaps his own imprudence, so far ruined
him as to oblige him to leave his house at Morris-
Town, and set up a tavern in this out of the way
place, where nothing but the neighbourhood of the
army can procure him a few customers. He has two
handsome sisters, well dressed girls, who wait on trav
ellers with grace and coquetry. Their brother says,
he will marry them to some fat, clumsy Dutchmen,
and that as for himself, as soon as he has got a little
money, he shall resume his commerce, and travel
about as formerly. On entering the parlour, where
these young women sit, when there are no strangers,
I found on a great table, Milton, Addison, Richardson,
and several other works of that kind. The cellar
was not so well stored as the library, for there was
neither wine, cider, nor rum. The bill they pre
sented me the next morning amounted nevertheless
to sixteen dollars. I observed to Mr. Courtheath,
that if he made one pay for being waited on by his
pretty sisters, it was by much too little ; but if only
for lodgings and supper, it was a great deal. He
seemed a little ashamed at having charged too high,

NO. 3i] Stage Coach 85

and offered to make a pretty considerable abatement,
which I refused, content with having shown him, that
though a foreigner, I was no stranger to the price of
articles, and satisfied with the excuse he made me,
that being himself a stranger and without property
in the country, he was obliged to purchase every thing.
I learned, on this occasion, that he hired the inn he
kept, as well as a large barn which served for a stable,
and a garden of two or three acres, for eighty-four
bushels of corn a year : in fact, the depreciation of
paper has compelled people to this manner of making
bargains, which is perhaps the best of all, but is
unquestionably an effectual remedy to the present
disorder.

31. A Day in a Stage Coach

BY BRISSOT DE WARVILLE (1788)

I WENT from New York the 25th of August, at
six o'clock in the morning, and had the North River
to pass before arriving to the stage. We passed the
ferry in an open boat, and landed at Paulus Hook: North River
they reckon two miles for this ferry, for which we ^Hudson.
pay sixpence, money of New York.

The carriage is a kind of open wagon, hung with
double curtains of leather and woollen, which you
raise or let fall at pleasure. But the road was so fine,
being sand and gravel, that we felt no inconvenience
from that circumstance. The horses are good, and
go with rapidity. These carriages have four benches,
and may contain twelve persons. The light baggage
is put under the benches, and the trunks fixed on

Travellers

[No. 31

behind. A traveller who does not choose to take the
stage, has a one-horse carriage by himself.

Let the Frenchmen who have travelled in these
carriages, compare them to those used in France ; to

A STAGE COACH OF 1829.

those heavy diligences, where eight or ten persons
are stuffed in together; to those cabriolets in the
environs of Paris, where two persons are closely con
fined, and deprived of air, by a dirty driver, who
torments his miserable horses : such carriages have
to run over the finest roads, and yet make but one
Three miles, league an hour. If the Americans had such roads,
with what rapidity would they travel, since, notwith
standing the badness of many highways, they now run
ninety-six miles in a day. Thus, with only a century
and a half of settlement, and in the face of a thousand
obstacles, they are already superior to people who have
been undisturbed in their progress of fifteen centuries.
You find in the stages, men of all professions.
They succeed each other with rapidity. One who
goes but twenty miles, yields his place to one who

NO. 3i] Stage Coach 87

goes farther. The mother and daughter mount the
stage to go ten miles to dine ; another stage brings
them back. At every instant, then, you are making
new acquaintances. The frequent passing of these
carriages, the ease of finding places in them, and the
low and fixed price, invite the Americans to travel.

The stage-coaches have another advantage, they
keep, up the idea of equality. The member of Con
gress is placed by the side of the shoemaker who
elected him. You see no person here taking upon
himself those important airs, which you too often
meet with in France. In that country, a man of con
dition would blush to travel in a diligence : it is an
ignoble carriage ; one who knows not with whom he
may find himself. Besides, it is in style to run post ;
this style serves to humiliate those who are con
demned to a sad mediocrity. It is then fortunate for
America, that the nature of things prevents distinction
in the mode of travelling.

The son of Governor Livingston was in the stage
with me ; I should not have found him out, so civil
and easy was his air, had not the tavern-keepers from
time to time addressed him with respectful familiarity.
I am told that the governor himself often uses those
stages. You may have an idea of this respectable
man, who is at once a writer, a governor, and a plow
man, on learning that he takes a pride in calling him
self a New Jersey farmer.

The American stages, then, are the true political
carriages. I know that the pctits maitrcs of France Dandies.
would prefer a gay well-suspended chariot ; but these
carriages roll in countries of Bastilles, in countries
afflicted with great inequality, and consequently with
great misery.

8 8 Travellers [NO. 32

32. A Troubled Journey

BY FRANCIS HOPKINSON (1790)

Though Mr. OUR jaunt had been the daily subject of discussion

Hrobab]S°n at Breakfast, dinner, and supper for a month before

never made the time fixed upon for putting it in execution. As

precisely this our daughter Jenny could by no means be left at

journey, he , .

recounts the home, many and great were the preparations to equip
ordinary Miss and her Mamma for this important journey; and
the' way! yet' as my w^e assured rne, there was nothing pro
vided but what was absolutely necessary, and which
we could not possibly do without.

At last, the long expected day arrived. No
sooner was it fair day-light, but up started my
notable wife, and soon roused the whole family. The
little trunk was stuffed with baggage, even to bursting,
and tied behind the chair, and the chair-box was
crammed with trumpery which we could not possibly
do without. Miss Jenny was drest, and breakfast
devoured in haste : the old negro wench was called
in, and the charge of the house committed to her
care; and the two apprentices and the hired maid
received many wholesome cautions and instructions
for their conduct during our absence, all which they
most liberally promised to observe.

At length, however, we set off, and turning the first
corner, lost sight of our habitation, with great regret
on my part, and no less joy on the part of Miss Jenny
and her Mamma. When we got to Poole's Bridge,
there happened to be a great concourse of wagons,
and carts, so that we could not pass for some time —
Miss Jenny frightened — my wife very impatient and
uneasy — wondered I did not call out to those im-

NO. 32] Troubled journey 89

pudent fellows to make way for us. Having got
through this difficulty, we proceeded without obstruc
tion — my wife in good humour — Miss Jenny in high
spirits. At Kensington fresh troubles arise — " Bless
me, Miss Jenny," says my wife, " where is the band
box? " " I don't know, Mamma; the last time I saw
it, it was on the table in your room." What's to be
done? the band-box is left behind — it contains Miss
Jenny's new wire-cap — there is no possibility of doing
without it — As well no New York as no wire-cap
-there is no alternative, we must even go back
for it.

Teased and mortified as I was, my good wife
administered consolation by observing, " That it was
my business to see that every thing was put into the
chair that ought to be, but there was no depending
upon me for any thing; and that she plainly saw I
undertook this journey with an ill-will, merely because
she had set her heart upon it." Silent patience was
my only remedy. An hour and an half restored to us
this essential requisite — the wire-cap, and brought us
back to the place where we first missed it.

After innumerable difficulties and unparalleled dan
gers, occasioned by ruts, stumps, and tremendous
bridges, we arrived at Neshamony ferry : but how to
cross it was the question. My wife protested that
neither she nor Jenny would go over in the boat with
the horse. I assured her that there was not the least
danger ; that the horse was as quiet as a dog, and
that I would hold him by the bridle all the way.
These assurances had little weight : the most forcible
argument was that she must go that way or not
at all, for there was no other boat to be had. Thus
persuaded, she ventured in — The flies were trouble-

9°

Travellers [NO. 32

some — the horse kicked — my wife in panics — Miss
Jenny in tears.

As we started pretty early, and as the days were
long, we reached Trenton by two o'clock. Here
we dined. My wife found fault with every thing ;
and whilst she disposed of what I thought a toler
able hearty meal, declared there was nothing fit to
eat. Matters, however, would have gone on pretty
well, but Miss Jenny began to cry with the toothache.
After dinner we again entered upon our journey

- my wife in good humour — Miss Jenny's tooth
ache much easier — various chat — I acknowledge
every thing my wife says for fear of discomposing
her. We arrive in good time at Princeton. My wife
and daughter admire the College. We refresh our
selves with tea, and go to bed early, in order to be up
by times for the next day's expedition.

In the morning we set off again in tolerable good
humour, and proceeded happily as far as Rocky-hill.
Here my wife's fears and terrors returned with great
force. I drove as carefully as possible ; but coming
to a place where one of the wheels must unavoidably
go over the point of a small rock, my wife, in a great
fright, seized hold of one of the reins, which happen
ing to be the wrong one, she pulled the horse so as to
force the wheel higher up the rock than it would
otherwise have gone, and overset the chair. We were
all tumbled hickledy-pickledy, into the road — Miss
Jenny's face all bloody — the woods echo to her cries

— my wife in a fainting fit — and I in great misery.
Matters begin to mend — my wife recovers — Miss
Jenny has only received a slight scratch on one of
her cheeks — the horse stands quite still, and none
of the harness broke. Matters grew worse again ;

NO. 32] Troubled ^Journey gi

the twine with which the band-box was tied had broke
in the fall, and the aforesaid wire-cap lay soaking in
a nasty mud-puddle — grievous lamentations over the
wire-cap — all my fault because I did not tie it better
- no remedy — no wire-caps to be bought at Rocky-
hill.

After passing unhurt over the imminent dangers of
Passaiack and Hackensack rivers, and the yet more
tremendous horrors of Pawlas Hook ferry, we arrived,
at the close of the third day, at cousin Snip's in the
city of New York.

Here we sojourned a tedious week ; my wife spent
as much money as would have maintained my family
for a month at home, in purchasing a hundred use
less articles which we could not possibly do without.

On the seventh day my wife declared that my
business would not admit of a longer absence from
home — and so after much ceremony, in which my
wife was by no means exceeded by her polite cousin,
we left the famous city of New York ; and I with
heart-felt satisfaction looked forward to the happy
period of our safe arrival in Water-street, Philadelphia.

But this blessing was not to be obtained without
much vexation and trouble — we were caught in a
thunder storm — our horse failed, by which we were
benighted three miles from our stage — my wife's
panics returned — Miss Jenny howled, and how very
miserable I was made. Suffice it to say, that, after
many distressing disasters, we arrived at the door of
our own habitation in Water-street.

Travellers

[No. 33

The journey
was in west
ern New
York.

33. Travelling by Canoes

BY ISAAC WELD (1796)

HAD it been practicable, it was our intention to
have proceeded from Bath by water ; but finding that
it was not, we once more set off on foot, and pursued
our way along the banks of the river till we came to
a small village of eight or ten houses, called New-
town, about thirty miles distant from Bath. Here
we found the stream tolerably deep, and the people
informed us, that excepting at one or two narrow
shoals, they were certain that in every part of it,
lower down, there was sufficient water for canoes ;
accordingly, determined to be our own watermen, as
we were five in number including our servants, we
purchased a couple of canoes from two farmers, who
lived on the banks of the river, lashed them together,
in order to render them more steady and safe, put our
baggage on board, and boldly embarked.

It was about three o'clock on a remarkably clear
though cold afternoon that we left the village, and
as the current was strong, we hoped to be able to
reach before night a tavern, about six miles below
Newtown. For the first two miles we got on ex
tremely well ; but beyond this the river proving to
be much shallower than we had been led to believe,
we found it a matter of the utmost difficulty to pro
ceed. Our canoes repeatedly struck upon the shoals,
and so much time was consumed in setting them again
free, that before we had accomplished more than two-
thirds of our voyage the day closed.

As night advanced a very sensible change was
observable in the weather ; a heavy shower of hail

NO. 33] Canoes 9 3

came pouring down, and involved us in thick dark
ness, while the moon was obscured by a cloud ; our
canoes were drifted on a bank in the middle of the
river by the current. In endeavouring to extricate
ourselves unfortunately, owing to the darkness, we
took a wrong direction; and at the end of a few min
utes found our canoes so firmly wedged in the gravel
that it was impossible to move them. Nothing now
remained to be done but for every one of us to jump
into the water, and to put his shoulder to the canoes.
This we accordingly did, and having previously un-
lashed them in order to render them more manageable,
we in a short time contrived to haul one of them into
deep water. Here, however, the rapidity of the cur
rent was so great, that notwithstanding all our en
deavours to the contrary, the canoe was forcibly
swept away from us, and in the attempt to hold it
fast we had the misfortune to see it nearly filled with
water.

Deprived thus of one of our canoes, and of a great
part of our baggage in it, which, for aught we knew,
was irrecoverably lost, we determined to proceed
more cautiously with the remaining one ; we returned,
therefore, to the bank, and carried every thing that
was in the canoe on our shoulders to the shore,
which was about forty yards distant ; no very easy or
agreeable task, as the water reached up to our waists,
and the current was so strong that it was with the
utmost difficulty we could keep our feet. As soon
as the canoe was emptied, we brought it, as nearly as
we could guess, to the spot where the other one had
been swept away from us ; and one of the party then
got into it with a paddle, and we committed it to the
stream, hoping that it would be carried down after

94 Travellers [NO. 33

the other, and that thus we should be able to recover
both with the things which they contained.

In a few seconds the stream carried the canoe out
of our sight, for the moon shone but faintly through the
clouds, and as the men were all totally unacquainted
with the river, we could not but feel some concern
for the personal safety of our companion. Before
many minutes elapsed, we had the satisfaction of
hearing his voice at a distance, and as soon as we
could make our way along the shore to the spot
whence the sound proceeded, we had the satisfaction
to find that he had been carried in safety close beside
the canoe which had been lost. We were not a little
pleased also at finding our portmanteaus at the bot
tom of the canoe, though well soaked in water ; but
such of our clothes as we had taken off preparatory
to going into the water, together with several light
articles, were all lost.

It froze so hard that in a few minutes our port
manteaus, and such of our garments as had been wet,
were covered with a coat of ice, and our limbs were
quite benumbed, in consequence of our having waded
so often through the river. Desirous, as we were to
get to a house, we determined first of all, to put our
baggage in a safe place, lest it might be pillaged.
A deep hollow under some fallen trees seemed well
adapted for the purpose, and we stowed it there, and
covered it with leaves, before we advanced forward.
There were no traces whatsoever of a path in the
woods where we landed, and for upwards of a mile
we had to force our way through the bushes along
the banks of the river ; but at the end of that distance
we hit upon one, which in a short time brought us to
a miserable little log house. At this house no accom-

NO. 33] Canoes 95

modation whatsoever was to be had ; but we were
told, that if we followed the path through the woods
for about a mile farther, we should come to a wagon
road, upon which we should find another house, where
probably we might gain admittance. We reached this
house according to the directions we had received and
readily gained admittance ; the blaze of an immense
wood fire, piled half way up the chimney, soon made
us amends for what we had suffered.

The cold of the air, together with the fatigue
which we had gone through in the course of the
day, had by this time given a keen edge to our appe
tites. No sooner had we warmed ourselves than we
began to make enquiries about what we could get to
satisfy the calls of hunger ; but had we asked for a
sheep or an ox for supper at an inn in England, the
man of the house could not, I verily believe, have
been more amazed than was our American landlord
at these enquiries : " The women were in bed " —
"He knew not where to find the keys" — " He did
not believe there was any thing in the pantry"
" Provisions were very scarce in the country" — "If
he gave us any there would not be enough for the
family in the morning" — Such were his answers to
us. However we plied him so closely, and gave him
such a pitiable description of our sufferings, that at
length he was moved ; the keys were found, the
pantry opened, and to satisfy the hunger of five
hungry young men, two little flour cakes, scarcely as
big as a man's hand each, and about a pint and a half
of milk, were brought forth. He vowed he could give
us nothing more ; his wife would never pardon him
if he did not leave enough for their breakfasts in the
morning. Obliged therefore to remain satisfied, we

Travellers [NO. 33

ate our little pittance, and then laid ourselves down
to rest on our furs, which we had brought with us on
our shoulders.

In the morning we found our canoes and baggage
just as we had left them. We embarked once more,
and made the best of our way down to the house
where we had ordered breakfast, which stood on the
banks of the river. The people here were extremely
civil ; they assisted us in making fresh paddles, in
lieu of those which we had lost the night before.

After breakfast we continued for about seven miles
down the river, but in the course of this distance we
were obliged to get into the water more than a dozen
different times, I believe, to drag the canoes over the
shoals. By the time we arrived at a house in the
afternoon, we were completely disgusted with our
water conveyance ; and had we not been able to pro
cure two men, to conduct our canoes to the mouth of
Tayoga River, where there was reason to imagine
that the water would be found deeper, we should
certainly have left them behind us.

We found no difficulty, in hiring from amongst the
watermen accustomed to ply on the river, a man that
was perfectly well acquainted with it. After ex
changing our two canoes, according to his advice,
for one of a very large size, capable of holding us all
conveniently, we renewed our voyage.

NO. 34] The Ohio 97

34. A Fiddler on the Ohio

BY JAMES HALL (1820)

IN the early part of our voyage we overtook a flat This gives a
boat floating down the stream, and in passing, were hye[y Plcture

..... of the life on

hailed by a person on the roof, who was no sooner the Ohio
recognized by our boatmen than a murmur of joy River-
ran throughout the boat. In a few minutes the
stranger came on board, and was received with a

A RIVER SCENE.

hearty welcome by our men, who saluted him by the
title of " Pappy." He seemed to be about fifty years
of age, but his eye had all the fire, and his step the
elasticity, of youth ; a continual smile lurked among
his sly features, and the jest was ever on his lips;
while an affected gravity, a drawling accent, and a
kind, benevolent manner, which accorded well with
the paternal appellation given him by the boatmen,
marked him as an eccentric being.

Travellers [NO. 34

"Our Pappy " was a humorist, and his sway among
his fellow boatmen was unlimited. To the great
joy of the crew, he was hired for the trip, and has
tened back to the flat, to bring, as he expressed it,
" Katy and his plunder on board." Katy, whose
merry voice we soon heard, was no other than a vio
lin, and his plunder consisted of a small parcel of
clothing tied up in a bandanna handkerchief. It was
I suppose his all — had it been less, " Old Pap " would
still have been merry ; if it had been infinitely greater
he would still have joked and fiddled. While others
worked, he would sit for hours scraping upon his
violin, singing catches, or relating merry or marvel
lous tales. When he chose to labour he went to the
oar, when inclined to trifle he held off, and no one
questioned his motions ; but, whether at work or at
play, he applied himself with all his heart. If the
boat grounded on a sand-bar, he was the first to
plunge into the water ; if a point was to be weath
ered, or a rapid to be passed, his was always the
best oar ; if a watch was to be kept at night, who so
wakeful as he ? And on such occasions, he would
fiddle and sing the live-long night. In short, with the
affectation, and somewhat of the appearance of age, he
was the gayest, most active, and stoutest man on board ;
and I was told that there were but few men along the
river, who would have undertaken to handle "Old Pap."

This new recruit proved a great acquisition, for,
like all other merry men, he was the cause of merri
ment in others. He kept our own crew in good
humour, and hailed every boat we passed with some
stroke of pleasantry. More than once he enacted
chief musician at dances, at the hovels along shore,
near which we lay by for the night.

NO. 35] Early Steamboat 99

35. An Early Steamboat

BY FRANCIS HALL (1816)

I EMBARKED on the Qth of March, in the Paragon
steam packet, from New York to Albany. The win
ter had been less severe than usual, which induced
the captain to attempt making his way up the Hudson
earlier than is customary. These steam-boats are
capable of accommodating from two to three hundred
passengers ; they are about one hundred and twenty
feet in length, and as elegant in their construction as
the awkward-looking machinery in the centre will
permit. There are two cabins, one for the ladies,
into which no gentleman is admitted without the con
currence of the whole company. The interior ar
rangements on the whole, resemble those of our best
packets. I was not without apprehension, that a din
ner in such a situation, for above a hundred and fifty
persons, would very much resemble the scramble of
a mob ; but I was agreeably surprised by a dinner
handsomely served, very good attendance, and a gen
eral attention to quiet and decorum. Indeed when
the cabin was lighted up for tea and sandwiches in
the evening, it more resembled a ball-room supper,
than, as might have been expected, a stage-coach
meal. The charge, including board, from New York
to Albany, one hundred and sixty miles, is seven dol
lars.

We started under the auspices of a bright frosty
morning. The first few minutes were naturally spent
by me in examining the machinery, by means of
which our huge leviathan, with such evident ease,
won her way against the opposing current. More

I-OO

Travellers

[No. 35

interesting objects are breaking fast on the view ; on
our right are the sloping sides of New York Island,
studded with villas, over a soil from which the hand
of cultivation has long since rooted its woodland glo
ries, and substituted the more varied decorations of
park and shrubbery, intersected with brown stubbles
and meadows ; on our left, the bold features of
nature rise, as in days of yore, unimpaired, unchange
able ; grey cliffs, like aged battlements, tower perpen-

AN EARLY STEAMBOAT.

dicularly from the water's edge to the height of
several hundred feet. Hickory, dwarf oak, and
stunted cedars twist fantastically within their crevices,
and deepen the shadows of each glen into which they
occasionally recede ; huge masses of disjointed rocks
are scattered at intervals below ; here the sand has
collected sufficiently to afford space for the wood
man's hut, but the narrow waterfall, which in summer
turns his saw-mill, is now a mighty icicle glittering
to the morning sun ; here and there a scarcely percep-

NO. 35] Early Steamboat 101

tible track conducts to the rude wharf, from which
the weather-worn lugger receives her load of timber
for the consumption of the city.

Evening began to close in as we approached the
highlands : the banks on either side towered up more
boldly, and a wild tract of mountain scenery rose be
yond them. The river, which had been gradually
widening, now expanded into a capacious lake, to
which the eye could distinguish no outlet ; flights of
wild fowl were skimming over its smooth surface to
their evening shelter, and the last light of day rested
faintly on a few white farm houses, glimmering at
intervals from the darkening thickets. Ver-Planks
Point shuts the northern extremity of this first basin ;
then the river continues its course within a cliff-
bound channel, until, after a few miles, it again opens
out amid the frowning precipices of West Point.
Here are the same features of scenery as at Ver-
Planks Point, but loftier mountains skirt the lake ;
and cliffs of more gigantic stature almost hang over
the gliding sail.

This was the land of romance to the early settlers :
Indian tradition had named the highlands the prison
within which Manetho confined the spirits rebellious
to his power, until the mighty Hudson, rolling
through the stupendous defiles of West Point, burst
asunder their prison house ; but they long lingered
near the place of their captivity, and as the blasts
howled through the valleys, echo repeated their groans
to the startled ear of the solitary hunter, who watched
by his pine-tree fire for the approach of morning.
The lights, which occasionally twinkled from the
sequestered bay, or wooded promontory, sufficiently
told that these fancies, like the Indians, who had in-

i o 2 Travellers [NO. 36

vented or transmitted them, must by this time have
given way to the unpoetic realities of civilised life.

Masses of floating ice, which had, at intervals
through the evening, split upon the bow of our ark,
became so frequent immediately on our passing West
Point as to oblige us to come to anchor for the night ;
a pretty sure prognostic that there was nearly an end
to our feather-bed travelling. The next morning we
found ourselves lying close to the flourishing little
settlement of Newburgh, on the right bank of the
river. Our captain concluded to terminate his voyage
here, and moved over to Fishkill, on the opposite
shore, to give us means of accommodating ourselves
with conveyances, in the best way we could.

36. A Canal Trip

BY C. D. ARFWEDSON (1825)

ON returning to Schenectady, I availed myself of
a canal-boat on the point of starting for Utica. These
boats are generally very long, but low, in conse
quence of the many bridges thrown across the canal,
beneath, which they must pass. They are fitted up
with two rooms, one inside the other, taking up the
whole length of the boat, with small windows on
the sides. The inner room belonged exclusively to
the ladies, and was considered as a sanctuary into
which the profane dared not set foot ; the outer one
again was used both as a drawing, dining, and bed
room for the gentlemen.

When — as was the case now — the number of trav
ellers exceeded thirty, the prospect of remaining on

NO. 36j _A Canal Trip 103

board twenty-two hours was not very agreeable. It
was impossible either to walk, to sit, or to lie down.
Moving about upon deck was out of the question,
owing to the number of bridges beneath which we
had to pass ; at every passage it became necessary
for the whole company to lie down flat, to avoid
being swept away by the beams of the bridge. As
soon as we approached one, which happened every
five minutes, the steersman called out, " Bridge ! "
and at the same instant the company fell prostrate.
It was ludicrous for a while to take part in this
manoeuvre ; in the long run, however, it became weari
some, and no other alternative was left but to go down,
by way of change, into the close and narrow cabin.

Night made our situation still more uncomfortable.
Although three tiers of beds, one above another, had
been fitted up on the sides, their number proved
insufficient; the floor was covered with mattresses.
Had I been permitted to select a sleeping place, I
should unquestionably have preferred a mattress on
the floor, for the beds on the sides were only slung
by a cord to the top : had that given way the whole
sleeping apparatus would have been precipitated to
the floor ; and the consequences might have been
serious, from the weight of some of the travellers.
Unfortunately, nearly all had the same idea as .my
self. The captain, a peaceable man, who wished to
accommodate every one, saw that it was not in his
power to do so, except by drawing lots for the berths.
I drew my number with a trembling hand, and behold !
it turned out to be one of the lowest beds on the side.

The prospect now darkened indeed : to lie down,
having two other berths occupied by heavy inmates
above, and only supported by small cords, was not a

1 04 Travellers [NO. 36

pleasant prospect. But what was to be done ? I had
no other chance but quietly to take my place, unless
I chose to spend the night on deck ; and this was
still more objectionable, owing to a heavy rain which
continued till the following morning. I thought it
prudent, however, to enter into a conversation with
the occupants of the upper regions, stipulating that
they should remain quiet in their berths, and that, if
a change of position became absolutely necessary,
they should inform me beforehand of their intention,
to guard against the possibility of accidents. Imme
diately above me lay a young man, who, by his re
served and strange behaviour, had already attracted
my attention ; and above him rested an excessively
fat man, whose frame took up more room than was
allotted to two.

The beginning of the night was rather auspicious ;
I already felt reconciled to my unpleasant situation,
and amused myself by listening to the different
sounds, from the finest tenor to the strongest bass,
proceeding from the snoring gentry. A sudden
thump against my side of the boat at length spread
consternation among the travellers. The shock,
occasioned by another craft coming too close to ours,
was so violent, that the beams cracked, and the doors
flew open. About a dozen sleeping individuals were
precipitated from the second and third tier on the
unfortunate beings who were lying on the floor.
One cord gave way after another. Snoring ceased :
lamentations filled the room. All were running,
shoving against each other, and making a noise in
the dark : confusion, in short, was at its height, until
the captain reported that there was no danger, and
the berths were soon again in use.

FANNY KEMBLE.

i o 6 Travellers LN°- 37

37. Hudson River and Young
Folks

BY FRANCES ANNE KEMBLE (1832)

AT six o'clock Dick roused me; and grumpily
enough I arose. Really by way of a party of
pleasure, 'tis too abominable to get up in the mid
dle of the night this fashion. At half past six,
Colonel Wilson came, and we set off to walk to
the quay. Just as we were nearing the bottom of
Barclay street, the bell rang from the steamboat, to
summon all loiterers on board ; and forthwith we
rushed, because in this country steam and paddles,
like wind and tide in others, wait for no man. We
got on board in plenty time, but Dick was nearly
killed with the pace at which we had walked, in
order to do so. One of the first persons we saw
was Mr. Hoyt, who was going up to his father's
place beyond West Point, by name Hyde Park,
which sounds magnificent. I did not remain long
on the second deck, but ascended to the first with
Colonel Wilson, and paced to and fro with infinite
zeal till breakfast time.

The morning was grey and sad looking, and I
feared we should not have a fine day : however,
towards eight o'clock the grey clouds parted, and
the blue serene eyes of heaven looked down upon
the waters, the waves began to sparkle, though the
sun had not yet appeared ; the sky was lighter, and
faint shadows began to appear beside the various
objects that surrounded us, all which symptoms
raised our hopes of the weather. At eight o'clock

NO. 37] Hudson , River 107

we went* down to breakfast. Nobody who has not
seen it, can conceive the strange aspect of the long
room of one of these fine boats at meal-time. The
crowd, the hurry, the confusion of tongues, like the
sound of many waters, the enormous consumption of
eatables, the mingled demands for more, the cloud
of black waiters hovering down the sides of the
immense tables, the hungry, eager faces seated at
them, form altogether a most amusing subject of
contemplation, and a caricaturist would find ample
matter for his vein in almost every other devouring
countenance.

As far as regards the speed, safety, and conven
ience with which these vessels enable one to perform
what would be in any other conveyance most fatigu
ing journeys, they are admirable inventions. The
way in which they are conducted, too, deserves the
highest commendation. Nothing can exceed the com
fort with which they are fitted up, the skill with
which they are managed, and the order and alac
rity with which passengers are taken up from, or
landed at the various points along the river. The
steamer goes at the rate of fifteen miles an hour,
and in less than two minutes when approaching any
place of landing, the engine stops, the boat is low
ered — the captain always convoys his passengers
himself from the steamer to the shore — away darts
the tiny skiff, held by a rope to the main boat ; as
soon as it grazes the land, its freight, animate and
inanimate, is bundled out, the boat hauls itself back
in an instant, and immediately the machine is in
motion, and the vessel again bounding over the water
like a race-horse.

Doubtless all this has many and great advantages ;

i o 8 Travellers [NO. 37

but to an English person, the mere circumstance of
being the whole day in a crowd is a nuisance. In
spite, therefore, of all its advantages, this mode of
journeying has its drawbacks. And the greatest of
all, to me, is the being companioned by so many
strangers, who crowd about you, pursue their con
versation in your very ears, or, if they like it better,
listen to yours, stare you out of all countenance, and
squeeze you out of all comfort. I think this constant
living in public is one reason why the young women
here are much less retiring and shy than English
girls. Instead of the domestic privacy in which
women among us are accustomed to live and move,
and have their being, here they are incessantly, as
Mr. Mayne says, "en evidence" Accustomed to the
society of strangers, mixing familiarly with persons
of whom they know nothing earthly, subject to the
gaze of a crowd from morning till night, pushing,
and pressing, and struggling in self-defence, con
versing, and being conversed with, by the chance
companions of a boarding-house, a steamboat, or
the hotel of a fashionable watering-place ; they
must necessarily lose everything like reserve or
bashfulness of deportment, and become free and
familiar in their manners, and noisy and unrefined
in their tone and style of conversation. An Eng
lish girl of sixteen, put on board one of these Noah's
arks, (for verily there be clean and unclean beasts in
them,) would feel and look like a scared thing. The
term which I should say applied best to the tone
and carriage of American girls from ten to eighteen,
is hoydenish ; laughing, giggling, romping, flirting,
screaming at the top of their voices, running in and
out of shops, and spending a very considerable por-

NO. 3s] Child 's Voyage 109

tion of their time in lounging about in the streets.
In Philadelphia and Boston, almost all the young
ladies attend classes or day schools, and in the latter
place, I never went out, morning, noon, or evening,
that I did not meet, in some of the streets round the
Tremont House, a whole bevy of young school girls,
who were my very particular friends, but who, under
pretext of going to, or returning from school, appeared
to me to be always laughing, and talking, and run
ning about in the public thoroughfares ; a system of
education which we should think by no means desir
able. The entire liberty which the majority of young
ladies are allowed to assume, at an age when in Eng
land they would be under strict nursery discipline,
appears very extraordinary ; they not only walk alone
in the streets, but go out into society, where they take
a determined and leading part, without either mother,
aunt, or chaperon of any sort ; custom, which renders
such an appendage necessary with us, entirely dis
penses with it here ; the reason of this is obvious
enough in the narrow circles of these small towns,
where every body knows every body.

38. A Child's Voyage on the
Ohio '

BY HENRY M. BRACKENRIDGE (1834)

THE good squire brought me back to Pittsburg,
riding behind him on horseback. I remember the
smell of the coal-smoke in coming down Coal Hill,
and was pleased with the appearance of the syca-

1 1 o Travellers [NO. 3s

mores growing along the bank of the Monongahela,
with the milk-white bark of their trunks and branches.
My father seemed pleased with my speaking Ger
man, which would not have been the case if he had
understood the language. He always entertained a
very high idea of the importance of this kind of
acquirement, and would often repeat the saying,
" that a man doubles himself by learning another
language." For this reason, or perhaps in conse
quence of some original plan of education, he con
ceived the idea of sending me to a French village in
Louisiana, in order to pass the time in acquiring that
important language, which might otherwise have been
spent in rolling hoops or playing marbles in the street.
A French gentleman of his acquaintance was about
to visit St. Genevieve, a village on the Mississippi,
and consented to take me with him. Without re
garding the distance, which was fifteen hundred
miles, through a wilderness, and at that time the
theater of a bloody Indian war, it was resolved to
seize the opportunity which presented itself of exe
cuting his design. It was therefore settled that I
should accompany the French gentleman, who en
gaged to place me in a French family, where I might
learn the language. Although nothing could have
been better intended than this measure, it is one
which few persons will approve. It is true I learned
the French language, from which I afterward derived
both pleasure and advantage, and it was my fortune
to fall into good hands ; but it might have been other
wise.

It must have been in the spring of the year when
I left Pittsburg, for the water was high, and I recol
lect seeing some garden-flowers growing wild. When

No.38j Child's Voyage 111

I went into the flat-boat, poor Joe could with diffi
culty be prevented from accompanying me ; he wept
bitterly and embraced me affectionately. With the
exception of the French gentleman in whose charge
I was placed, my companions, at least for a consider
able part of the way, were, of all others, the most
likely to be pernicious to a child of my age ; they
consisted of common soldiers, to the number of thirty,
under the command of an ensign, on their way to the
army. It was fortunate for me that, owing to the
high waters, this part of our voyage was short in its
duration, although the distance was five hundred
miles.

A little incident also happened shortly after our
departure, which placed me at some distance from
my companions of the voyage. My trunk was
broken open, and six shillings in silver, which had
purchased my consent to depart from my native
spot, were taken out by one unknown. The soldiers
were suspected ; the ensign, who was indignant, made
strict search to no purpose, and on receiving some
insolent language from a corporal or sergeant, drew
his sword, struck him over the head — the purple
stream followed the blow. Such circumstances stamp
themselves strongly on the infant mind, and I ascribe
to it a dislike which I have to military discipline.

I can recollect but few particulars of the voyage.
In my childish simplicity, I thought we had reached
the end of the river when we came to a part where
the stream turns suddenly to the left, apparently pre
senting a barrier of hills athwart its course. Being
by this time tired of the voyage, I asked them to
take me back. In the evening I was put to a new
trial ; a piece of fat pork, chocolate in a tin cup, and

ii2 Travellers [NO. 3s

some ship-biscuit were given to me for supper. The
fat meat disgusted me ; the chocolate was unpala
table ; but being afraid to make known these an
tipathies, the offensive mess was privately thrown
overboard. I soon found, however, that there is
no cure like starving for an overdelicate appetite ;
and after awhile my disgust was gradually placed
under control. I consider this a valuable practical
lesson. How many a spoilt child have I seen, who
might be cured by the discipline of the flat-boat !

In ten days we reached the encampment of General
Wayne, at a place called Hobson's Choice, now a part
of the City of Cincinnati. I have no distinct recol
lection of the appearance of the Ohio River in the
course of our descent, except that, instead of being
enlivened by towns and farms along its banks, it was
a woody wilderness, shut in to the water's edge.
Excepting the openings and clearings made for the
camp, the ground was covered by lofty trees and
entangled vines.

We remained here but a few days, when we floated
off again into the stream ; our party now consisted
of my guardian (as I will call him) and another man,
and a little boy about my own age. We now pro
ceeded as silently as we could, keeping, as near as
possible, on the Kentucky side of the river, from
apprehension of the Indians.

I do not remember Louisville, or " the Falls " as
the place was then called ; the waters being high, the
rapids were probably not visible, and the boat passed
over them as over any other part of the river From
this place to the mouth of the river, about five hun
dred miles, the banks presented an uninterrupted
wilderness; the solitude was not disturbed by a single

NO. 38] Child' 's Voyage 113

human voice out of our boat. We encountered a
river storm, not many miles from the Mississippi;
the waves tossed us about, and dashed over the sides
of the boat, threatening either to overwhelm us, or
to cast us on a desert shore. What a contrast to the
gentle Ohio was presented when we entered the
current of the mighty " father of rivers," with his
prodigious volume rolling in turbid eddies and whirls,
with whole forests of driftwood on his surface ! We
were swiftly hurried along, and soon reached New
Madrid, the termination of our voyage. This place
was then a small Spanish military post ; as we
approached the landing, a soldier or officer made
his appearance on the bank, and nourished his sword
with a fierce, consequential air ; all this for the
purpose of indicating the place for us to land.

A TOLL GATE.

ii4 Travellers [NO. 39

39. A Bear Fight

BY HENRY M. BRACKENRIDGE (1834)

IN ascending the Ohio, as the banks were unin
habited, and there were no boats going down, we
often suffered severely from the want of provisions.
Excepting two log-cabins, at Red Bank, there was no
habitation until we reached the Falls. I shall never
forget the painful sensations of hunger which I en
dured, when we were a day, or sometimes two days,
without anything to eat. A sufficient supply of pro
visions had not been laid in before starting, and our
hunters frequently disappointed us. Not far from
the Wabash, on the Indian side of the river, a small
herd of buffaloes was one day observed, perhaps
among the last ever seen on the banks of the Ohio.
Our boat landed, in order to afford an opportunity to
those who had guns to approach the game through
the woods. Four of the men slipped up through
the bushes, and, selecting a buffalo bull, fired their
rifles at once at his head ; but they either missed, or
their bullets could not penetrate his skull. Another
was more fortunate, or more judicious, in choosing
out a large calf, which he shot and secured, and
brought us a most acceptable supply of fresh meat.

Once, having encamped somewhat later than usual,
in the neighborhood of a beautiful grove of sugar-
trees, we found, after kindling our fires, that a large
flock of turkeys had taken up their night's lodgings
over our heads : some ten or twelve of them were
soon taken down for our supper and breakfast. But
it was not often we were so fortunate ; and one after
noon in particular, after having suffered much from

NO. 39] A Bear Fight 115

hunger, the men bethought themselves of trying the
river mussels : they were fried, and covered with pep
per and salt, but they could not be eaten.

I must not omit an incident of our voyage of some
what unusual interest, which was nothing more nor
less than what may be called a naval combat with a
bear. One afternoon bruin was espied crossing the
river from the Indiana to the Kentucky side ; every
exertion was made, and with success, to cut him off
from the shore. We now had him fairly in the mid
dle of the river. All the guns we had on board were
leveled at him ; but such is the extraordinary tenacity
of life in this animal, that, although severely wounded,
he not only continued to swim, but now enraged, and
finding his retreat impracticable, made directly for
the boat, champing his teeth, and his eyes red with
rage. Before the fire-arms could be reloaded, he laid
his paw on the side of the boat, as if to try the last
desperate experiment of boarding ; and if he had suc
ceeded, the probability is he would have cleared the
decks. Some one had the presence of mind to seize
an axe and knock him in the head ; after which, he
was dragged into the boat, and proved to be of enor
mous size. We encamped early, and fires were joy
fully kindled along the rocky shore, in anticipation of
the feast : one of the paws fell to my share, and, being
roasted in the ashes, furnished a delicious repast.

Our boat was very badly contrived to encounter
inclement weather. At the stern- there was a small
cabin, if such it might be called, formed by a canvas
drawn over hoops something like those of a covered
wagon. But the space it covered was too narrow to
shelter more than four or five persons. The hull of
the boat was entirely filled with peltries. One night,

1 1 6 Travellers [NO. 39

when it rained incessantly, so many crowded in that
I was fairly crowded out, and lay, until daylight, on
the running-board (a plank at the edge of the boat,
on which the men walk in pushing with the pole),
exposed to the falling torrents of rain, accompanied
with incessant thunder and lightning. We little
know what we can bear until we try, although one
might think this would deserve to rank among the
experiments of Peter the Great, who attempted to
accustom his midshipmen to drink salt water ! I did
not sleep, but drew myself as nearly into the shape of
a ball as I could, with no other covering than a thin
capote. Shortly after my arrival at Louisville, I was
sejzec[ wiih a f ever and ague, occasioned either by my
exposures and sufferings, or by imprudently eating
some unripe watermelon, or both together. It was
nearly a year before I was entirely cured of the ague,
and I felt the effects long after.

My guardian, having disposed of the principal part
of his cargo at Louisville, purchased a canoe or
peroque, which he loaded with some valuable furs
remaining unsold, and employed a stripling from the
Monongahela to assist him in pushing with the pole.
Thus far, I have said little of my guardian. The
reader must have discovered that he was engaged in
trade between Pittsburg and Upper Louisiana ; but
he will hardly suspect that he was a French gentle
man of education, and bred to the bar in his own
country, and of a distinguished family there. He
might now be seen, pole in hand, pushing at the
stern, and his man Duncan at the bow, while Pill-gar-
lick was deposited among the skins, half way between
them. When the unfortunate ague came on I dis
turbed the equilibrium of the canoe, or rather of those

NO. 4o] A tf^ise Old Mule 117

standing up in it, to the no small displeasure of mon
sieur, whose temper was none of the sweetest.

As the season was advanced, and also rainy, I suf
fered much from constant exposure. Duncan took
care of me ; we slept together, and the few blankets
we had were disposed in the most judicious manner.
One of these was drawn over bent twigs, each end in
the ground ; another was laid on leaves, or fresh
boughs, and a third was used for covering. In this
way, the night was passed more comfortably than the
day ; although, on one occasion, we had to shake off
the snow which had fallen upon us somewhat early
in the season. Having a regular return of the ague
every day, and growing weaker, my guardian con
sidered it most prudent to leave me at the first
settlement, where I could be safely deposited and
taken care of. Accordingly, on our arrival at Galli-
polis, I was taken to a house in the village and left
there.

40. A Wise Old Mule

BY EDWIN BRYANT (1846)

ABOUT midway upwards, in a canon of this moun
tain, I noticed the smoke of a fire, which apparently
had just been kindled by the Indians, who were then
there, and had discovered our party on the white
plain below ; it was the custom of these Indians to
make signals by fire and smoke, whenever they
notice strange objects. Proceeding onward, I over
took an old and favorite pack-mule, which we famil
iarly called " Old Jenny." She carried our meat and
flour — all that we possessed in fact — as a suste-

i i 8 Travellers [NO. 40

nance of life. Her pack had turned, and her burden,
instead of being on her back was suspended under
neath. With that sagacity and discretion so char
acteristic of the Mexican pack-mule, as she was
behind and followed the party in advance, she had
stopped short in the road until some one should come
to rearrange her cargo and place it on deck instead
of under the keel. I dismounted and went through,
by myself, the rather tedious and laborious process
of unpacking and repacking. This done, " Old
Jenny " set forward upon a fast gallop to overtake
her companions ahead, and my own mule, as if not
to be outdone in the race, followed in the same gait.
" Old Jenny," however, maintained the honors of the
race, keeping considerably ahead. Both of them, by
that instinct or faculty which mules undoubtedly
possess, had scented the water on the other side of
the valley, and their pangs of extreme thirst urged
them forward at this extraordinary speed, after the
long and laborious march they had made.

As I advanced over the plain the spreading of the
fires in the canon of the mountain appeared with
great distinctness. The line of lights was regular
like camp-fires, and I was more than half inclined
to hope that we should meet and be welcomed by an
encampment of civilized men — either hunters, or a
party from the Pacific bound homeward. The moon
shone out about nine o'clock, displaying and illumi
nating the unnatural, unearthly dreariness of the
scenery.

" Old Jenny " for some time had so far beat me in
the race as to be out of my sight, and I out of the
sound of her footsteps. I was entirely alone, and
enjoying, as well as a man could with a crust of salt

NO. 4o] A tt^ise Old Mule 1 1 g

in his nostrils and over his lips, and a husky mouth
and throat, the singularity of my situation, when I
observed, about a quarter of a mile in advance of me,
a dark, stationary object standing in the midst of the
hoary scenery. I supposed it to be " Old Jenny " in
trouble once more about her pack. But coming up
to a speaking distance, I was challenged in a loud
voice with the usual guard-salutation, "Who comes
there ? " Having no countersign, I gave the common
response in such cases, " A friend." This appeared
to be satisfactory, for I heard no report of pistol or
rifle, and no arrow took its soundless flight through
my body. I rode up to the object and discovered it
to be Buchanan sitting upon his mule, which had
become so much exhausted that it occasionally re
fused to go along. He said that he had supposed
himself to be the " last man," before " Old Jenny "
passed, who had given him a surprise, and he was
quite thunderstruck when an animal, mounted by a
man, came charging upon him in his half-crippled
condition. After a good laugh and some little delay
and difficulty, we got his mule under way again, and
rode slowly along together.

We left, what seemed to us, in our tired condition,
the interminable plain of salt, and entered upon the
sagey slope of the mountain about ten o'clock. Hal
looing as loudly as we could raise our voices, we ob
tained, by a response, the direction of our party who
had preceded us, and after some difficulty in making
our way through the sage, grass, and willows, (the last
a certain indication of water in the desert,) we came
to where they had discovered a faint stream of water,
and made their camp. Men and mules, on their first
arrival, as we learned, had madly rushed into the

i 2 o Travellers [NO. 40

stream and drank together of its muddy waters, —
made muddy by their own disturbance of its shallow
channel and sluggish current.

Delay of gratification frequently gives a temporary
relief to the cravings of hunger. The same remark
is applicable to thirst. Some hours previously I had
felt the pangs of thirst with an acuteness almost
amounting to an agony. Now, when I had reached
the spot where I could gratify my desires in this
respect, they were greatly diminished. My first care
was to unsaddle my mule and to lead it to the stream,
and my next to take a survey of the position of our
encampment. I then procured a cup of muddy
water, and drank it off with a good relish. The fires
before noticed were still blazing brightly above us on
the side of the mountain, but those who had lighted
them, had given no other signal of their proximity.
The moon shone brilliantly, and Jacob, Buchanan,
McClary, and myself, concluded we would trace the
small stream of water until we could find the foun
tain spring. After considerable search among the
reeds, willow, and luxuriant grass, we discovered a
spring. Buchanan was so eager to obtain a draught
of cold, pure water, that in dipping his cup for this
purpose, the yielding weeds under him gave way, and
he sank into the basin, from which he was drawn
out after a good ducking, by one of those present.
The next morning this basin was sounded to the
depth of thirty-five feet, and no bottom found. We
named this spring " Buchanan's well."

We lighted no fires to-night, and prepared no
evening meal. Worn down by the hard day's travel,
after relieving our thirst we spread our blankets upon
the ground, and laying our bodies upon them, slept

NO. 4i] A Bull Fight 121

soundly in the bright moonshine. Several of our
party had been on the road upwards of seventeen
hours, without water or refreshment of any kind,
except a small draught of cold coffee from our
powder-keg, made of the salt sulphur-water at our
last encampment, and had travelled the distance of
seventy-five miles. The Salt Plain has never at this
place, so far as I could understand, been crossed but
twice previously by civilized men, and in these in
stances two days were occupied in performing the
journey of seventy-five miles.

41. A Mimic Bull Fight

BY WILLIAM BULLOCK (1825)

THE next thing was dancing to a guitar, strummed
by a pretty little girl about twelve years old, and
some of the ladies accompanied with their voices the
movements of their feet. Whilst this amusement
was going on, a fine young bull was brought and tied
by a long cord to the stump of a tree : the beautiful
little animal seemed for a while to enjoy the noisy
sport as much as any of the company, till he had
received several very marked insults, when he lost his
temper, and with considerable violence ran at an Ind
ian, against whom he had already shown marks of
hostility. Several persons now joined in the attempt
to work him up to the highest point of irritation ; the
young men advanced in front of him, with only a
pocket handkerchief, and when they had provoked
him to attack them, would merely step aside, and
leave the handkerchief covering his face. The con-

122 Travellers [NO. 42

test had continued without any one being endangered,
till in a furious charge at his Indian friend, the bull
broke the rope ; but the sable adversary very dexter
ously turned short and seized him by the tail, and
contrived so to hold him, till another rope was passed
round his body, and he was again secured. A soldier
next leaped on his back, but after a few efforts, the
animal threw him to a considerable distance, and he
fell with violence. It now became quite furious,
when an Indian sprang upon its back, clasping its
sides with his legs, and resisting every effort of the
bellowing brute to dislodge him ; and then finally
galloped off into a wood.

It was the first time I had ever witnessed any thing
like a bull-fight, even of this mimic kind ; and as the
parties did not seem to apprehend any peril, the
laughter, in which the ladies had no inconsiderable
share, was occasionally very boisterous and long
continued.

42. A Storm on Lake Erie

BY ISAAC WELD (1795)

AT daybreak we found ourselves entirely clear of
the land ; but instead of the azure sky and gentle
breezes which had favored us the preceding day,
we had thick hazy weather, and every appearance" in
the heavens indicated that before many hours were
over we should have to contend with some of the
dangerous storms so frequent on Lake Erie. It was
not long before the winds began to blow, and the
waves to rise in a tremendous manner. A number of
old French ladies, who were going to see their grand-

NO. 42] Storm on Lake Erie 123

children in Lower Canada, and who now for the first
time in their lives found themselves on the water,
occupied the cabin. The hold of the vessel, boarded
from end to end, and divided simply by a sail sus
pended from one of the beams, was rilled on one side
with steerage passengers, amongst which were several
women and children ; and on the opposite side with
passengers who had paid cabin price, but were unable

AN OLD FORT.

to get any better accommodation, amongst which num
ber was our party. Not including either the old ladies
in the cabin, or the steerage passengers, we sat down
to dinner each day twenty-six in number. The
greater part of the passengers, drooping under sea
sickness, begged for heaven's sake that the captain
would put back ; but bent upon performing his voy
age with expedition, he was deaf to their entreaties.
What the earnest entreaties, however, of the pas
sengers could not effect, the storm soon compelled.

124 Travellers [NO. 42

It was found absolutely necessary to seek for a place
of shelter to avoid its fury ; and accordingly the helm
was ordered up, and we made the best of our way
back again to the islands in a bay, between two of
which we cast anchor. Here we lay securely
sheltered by the land until the next morning, when
the watch upon deck gave the alarm that the vessel
was driving from her anchor and going fast towards
the shore.

The dawn of day only enabled us to see all the danger
of our situation. We were within one hundred yards
of a rocky lee shore, and depended upon one anchor,
Which, if the gale increased, the captain feared very
much would not hold. The day was wet and squally
and the appearance of the sky gave us every reason
to imagine that the weather, instead of growing
moderate, would become still more tempestuous than it
either was or had been ; nevertheless, buoyed up by
hope, and by a good share of animal spirits, we ate
our breakfasts regardless of the impending danger,
and afterwards sat down to a. game of cards. Scarcely
had we played for one hour when the dismal cry was
heard of, " All hands aloft," as the vessel was again
drifting towards the shore.

As the day was very cold, I threw a blanket over
my shoulders, and fastened it round my waist with a
girdle, in the Indian fashion,, but I was incapable of
managing it like an Indian, and stopped to disen
cumber myself of it before I went on deck, so that, as
it happened, I was the last man below. The readiest
way of going up was through the hatchway, and I
had just got my foot upon the ladder, in order to
ascend, when the vessel struck with great force upon
the rocks. Before two minutes had passed over, the

NO. 42] Storm on Lake Erie 125

vessel struck a second time, but with a still greater
shock ; and at the end of a quarter of an hour, during
which period she had gradually approached nearer
towards the shore, she began to strike with the fall
of every wave. As the storm increased, the waves
began to roll with greater turbulence than before;
and with such impetuosity did they break over the
bows of the vessel, that it was with the very utmost
difficulty that I, and half a dozen more who had
taken our station on the forecastle, could hold by our
hands fast enough to save ourselves from being carried
overboard.

For upwards of four hours did we remain in this
situation, expecting every instant that the vessel
would go to pieces, and exposed every three or four
minutes to the shock of one of the tremendous
breakers which came rolling towards us. At last, we
were so benumbed with cold that it would have been
impossible for us to make any exertions in the water
to save ourselves if the vessel was wrecked ; so we
determined to go below, there to remain until we
should be again forced up by the waves.

Some of the passengers now began to write their
wills on scraps of paper, and to inclose them in what
they imagined would be most likely to preserve them
from the water ; others had begun to take from their
trunks what they deemed most valuable ; and one
unfortunate thoughtless man, who was moving with
his family from the upper country, we discovered in
the very act of loading himself with dollars from
head to foot, so that had he fallen into the water in
the state we found him he must inevitably have
been carried to the bottom.

Words can convey no idea of the wildness that

126 Travellers [NO. 43

reigned in the countenance of almost every person as
the night approached.

Till nine o'clock at night the vessel kept striking
every minute, during which time we were kept in a
state of the most dreadful suspense about our fate ;
but then happily the wind shifted one or two points
in our favour, which occasioned the vessel to roll in
stead of striking. At midnight the gale grew some
what more moderate ; and at three in the morning
it was so far abated, that the men were able to haul
in the anchor, and in a short time to bring the
vessel once more into deep water, and out of all dan
ger. Great was the joy, as well may be imagined,
which this circumstance diffused amongst the pas
sengers ; and well pleased was each one, after the
fatigue and anxiety of the preceding day, to think
he might securely lay himself down to rest.

The next morning the sun arose in all his majesty
from behind one of the most distant islands. The
azure sky was unobscured by a single cloud, the air
felt serenely mild, and the birds, as if equally delighted
with man that the storm was over, sweetly warbled
forth their songs in the adjacent woods; in short,
had it not been for the disordered condition in which
we saw our vessel, and every thing belonging to us,
the perils we had gone through would have appeared
like a dream.

43. In a Cave

BY JOHN ASHE (1806)

I HAD descended but twenty-two miles from the
Wabash when I came to on the Indiana shore to

NO. 43] In a Cave 127

examine a very grand and interesting natural curi
osity. It is a cave in a rock which presents itself to
view a little above the water when high, close to the
bank of the river, and darkened by the shade of some
Catalpa trees standing before the entrance. On each
side the gently ascending copses of wood, and the
extensive view of the water, profound, wide and trans
parent, tend to render the cave an object truly delight
ful and worthy of the most minute attention. I
resolved to explore it, though it bore the reputation
of being the residence of a band of robbers who for
many years have infested the river. But I find the
cavern at first became an object of terror and aston
ishment from having been the retreat of the remains
of an Indian nation who were exasperated against
the Americans, and resolved to put as many of them
as possible to death, to revenge the injuries and in
sults they and their friends had experienced.

It was a party of the Illinois who adopted this fatal
resolution, and who carried it on for several years
with the most bloody effect, till a large party of Ken-
tuckians resolved to attack and exterminate them.
With this intent fifty well armed men descended to
the cave and attacked the Illinois who were double
that number. Several fell on both sides, and the vic
tory was doubtful till the Illinois rushed upon the
enemy with lifted tomahawks and horrid cries, and
drove them to the cave which they entered, and made
a long and terrible resistance. In an instant the Illi
nois changed their mode : they cast up a heap of dry
wood, reeds and cane, immediately before the en
trance which they undoubtedly guarded, and set fire
to the piles ; this suffocated all those who had not
resolution to rush through the flame and brave death

128 Travellers [NO. 43

in another effort with their successful enemy. Some
had vigour to make this desperate attempt. It was
fruitless. The life of one man alone was spared.
The rest perished by the fire, or fell under the
hatchet. The man, whose life was given him, was
sent back to the Government of Kentucky with this
message : "Tell your wise men, that the Illinois have
glutted their vengeance, and that their spirit is satis
fied and appeased. On the borders of the lake we
will bury the hatchet. Woe to those who make us
take it from the ground." Soon after this act they
departed, and reside to this time on the spot they
mentioned for their intended retreat.

About three years after this distinguished act of
national and Indian vengeance, the cave was seized
by a party of Kentuckians, called " Wilson's Gang."
Wilson, in the first instance, brought his family to the
cave, fitted it up as a spacious dwelling, and erected
a sign post on the water side, on which were these
words: "Wilson's house for entertainment." The
novelty of such a tavern induced almost all boats
descending the river to call and stop for refreshment
and amusement. Attracted by these circumstances,
several idle characters took up their abode at the
cave. Out of such customers as these Wilson found
no difficulty in forming a band of robbers, with whom
he formed the plan of murdering the crews of every
boat that stopped at his tavern, and send the boats,
manned by some of his party, to New Orleans, and
there sell their lading for cash, which was to be con
veyed to the cave by land through the states of Ten
nessee and Kentucky ; the party who returned with
it were instructed to murder and rob, on all good
occasions, presented by the road. After a lapse of

No. 43]

In a Cave

i 29

some time, the merchants of the upper country began
to be alarmed, when they found that their property
made no return, and their people never came back.
Several families and respectable men who had gone
down the river were never more heard of, and the losses
became so frequent that it raised at length a cry of
individual and general distress. This naturally led
to inquiry, and large rewards were offered for the
discovery of the perpetrators of such unparalleled
crimes.

THE CONESTOGA WAGON.

It soon came out that Wilson, with an organized
party of forty-five men, was the cause of such waste
of blood and treasure. The publicity of Wilson's
transactions soon broke up his party ; some dispersed,
others were taken prisoners, and he himself was
killed by one of his associates, who was tempted by
the original reward offered for the head of the cap
tain of the gang.

I ordered light and arms, and entered the cave, and
found it to measure two hundred feet long, and forty

130 Travellers [NO. 43

feet high : the entrance formed a semicircular arch
of ninety feet at its base, and forty-five in its perpen
dicular. The interior walls are smooth rock stained
by fire and marked with names of persons and dates
and other remarks, etched by former inhabitants and
by nearly every visitor. The floor is very remark
able ; it is level through the whole length of its
centre, and rises to the sides in stone grades, in the
manner of seats in the pit of a theatre. On a dili
gent scrutiny of the walls, I could plainly discern
that the Indians, at a very remote period, made use
of the cave as a house of deliberation and council.
The walls bear many hieroglyphics, well executed in
the Indian manner : and some of them represented
animals which bear no resemblance to any I have
ever heard of or seen.

While occupied in this research, I discovered an
opening in the roof of the cave, which appeared to
work up a funnel to the surface of the earth. It was
as large as an ordinary chimney, and placed directly
in the centre of the roof. The access was very diffi
cult, and yet an increase of curiosity determined me
to find out whither the passage led. In consequence
I ordered a long hickory tree to be cut down, to be
notched for the feet, and reared up against the mouth
of the opening. My men seemed to think the pas
sage might lead to the lurking place of a bandit.
They were much alarmed and used every persuasion
to turn me from my design. • It was to no purpose.
With a dirk at my breast, and a pair of pistols in my
girdle, I mounted by means of the tree, and received
a light from my servant, who insisted on following
me, while Cuff remained as a sentinel below, ready
to fire a signal on any person's approach.

NO. 43] In a Cave 131

With much difficulty I strained through the aper
ture, which appeared to form a perpendicular pas
sage of fourteen feet ; and to my great astonishment
arrived in an apartment of greater magnitude than
that from which I had ascended, and of more splen
dor, magnificence and variety. As I advanced, by
the assistance of the lights, I began to discover the
outlines of a large vault of great height and extent.
The roof, which was arched, the sides and natural
pillars that supported it, seemed at first sight to
be cut out and wrought into figures and ornaments,
not unlike those of a gothic cathedral. These were
formed by a thousand droppings of the coldest and
most petrifying water. At the farther end of this
large vault was an opening, which served as a descent
to another vault of very great depth, as I judged
from a stone cast in, whose reverberation was not
returned for the space of several seconds.

About half an hour later I fired a pistol off, which
I knew would bring my faithful Mandanean, but I
did not know that its effect would be terrific and its
report tremendous. No thunder could exceed the
explosion, no echo return so strong a voice. My man
fell as if insensible at my feet, and I staggered sev
eral paces before I could recover my equilibrium.
The light extinguished ; the echo of the shot again
rebounded, and all the demons of the place awoke at
once to appal and confound me. Owls screamed in
their retreats, bats fluttered through the air, and a
direful contention of sounds and cries vied with each
other to scare the heart and fill the soul with horror
and dismay. Before the tumult ceased, I discovered
beams of light issuing from the lower cave, and in
a moment after appeared my trusty Indian rising

132 Travellers [NO. 44

through the opening with a torch in one hand and a
sabre in the other, and exclaiming, " My chief, my
chief, have a strong heart." We found here abun
dance of shells of the mussel kind. They were all
open and lay scattered on the floor and shelving sides
of the cave, in a manner that fully convinced me they
were there originally inhabited by fish, at a period
when the place in which I found them was a sub
marine vault.

44. What became of the Buffaloes

BY JOHN ASHE (1806)

AN old man, one of the first settlers in this country,
built his log-house on the immediate borders of a salt
spring. He informed me that for the first several
seasons, the buffaloes paid him their visits with the
utmost regularity. They travelled in single files,
always following each other at equal distances, and
formed droves on their arrival, of about three hun
dred each. The first and second years, so un
acquainted were these poor brutes with the use of
this man's house or with his nature, that in a few
hours they rubbed the house completely down ; taking
delight in turning the logs off with their horns, while
he had some difficulty to escape from being trampled
under their feet, or crushed to death in his own ruins.
At that period he supposed there could not have been
less than ten thousand in the neighbourhood of the
spring. They sought for no manner of food ; but
only bathed and drank three or four times a day, and
rolled in the earth, or lay in the adjacent shades;
and on the fifth and sixth days separated into dis-

NO. 44] The Buffaloes 133

tinct droves, bathed, drank and departed in single
files, according to the exact order of their arrival.
They all rolled successively in the same hole ; and
each thus carried away a coat of mud, to preserve
the moisture on their skin ; when hardened and
baked by the sun, this layer would resist the stings
of millions of insects that otherwise would persecute
these peaceful travellers to madness or death.

In the first and second years this old man with
some companions killed from six to seven hundred
of these noble creatures, merely for the sake of the
skins, which were worth only two shillings each ;
and after this work of death, they were obliged to
leave the place till the following season. In the
two following years, the same persons killed great
numbers out of the first droves that arrived ; but
they soon had reason to repent of this, for the re
maining droves, as they came up in succession,
stopped, moaned or lowed aloud, and returned in
stantly to the wilderness in an unusual run, without
tasting their favourite spring, or licking the salt earth,
which was also once their most agreeable occupation;
nor did they, or any of their race, ever revisit the
neighbourhood.

The simple history of this spring is that of every The same
other in the settled part of this western world; the Destruction

has gone on

carnage or beasts was everywhere the same. 1 met since 1870
with a man who had killed two thousand buffaloes in the west~
with his own hand ; and others, no doubt, have done
the same. In consequence of such proceedings, not
one buffalo is at this time to be found east of the
Mississippi, except a few domesticated by the curi
ous, or carried through the country as a public show.
The first settlers, not content with this sanguinary

134 Travellers [NO. 45

extermination of the animal, also destroyed the food
to which it was most partial; which was cane, grow
ing in forests and brakes of immeasurable extent.
To this the unsparing wretches set fire in dry seasons,
in order to drive out every living creature, and then
hunt and persecute them to death.

Deer, which also abounded in this country, have
nearly shared the same fate as the buffalo ; and they,
too, would be entirely annihilated, if they were not
capable of subsisting in places almost inaccessible to
man. The small number that remain, frequent the
mountains ; their desire for the water of the saline
springs, however, occasionally brings them into the
plains, where they do not want for enemies, for there
is no settler who would not abandon the most impor
tant business, in order to pursue this species of game.

The salt lake and springs are also frequented by
other kinds of beasts, and by birds : and from the
most minute inquiries, I am justified in asserting that
their visitations were periodical ; except doves, which
appear to delight in the neighbourhood of salt springs,
and to make them their constant abode. In such
situations they are seen in immense numbers, as
tame as domestic pigeons, but rendered more interest
ing by their solitary notes and plaintive melody.

45. A Deer Hunt in Florida

BY GEORGE MC€ALL (1822)

PENSACOLA, December i, 1822.
MY DEAR HARRY: —

I am mounted at last — and splendidly. I found
here a short time ago a blooded mare from Virginia ;

NO. 45] A Deer Hunt 135

she was brought hither through Tennessee and Ala
bama by a Mr. Anderson, a gentleman who came to
look at Florida lands and live-oak timber. Kate, as
I have christened her, is a dark bay, almost a brown,
with the most beautiful head, saucily set upon a fine
neck, which springs proudly from a deep and well
thrown-back shoulder ; a short back, fiddle hips, and
a clean set of limbs finish the portrait. She has a
fair share of woman's wilfulness ; but that is amply
illuminated or adorned by a light pair of heels and
great powers of endurance. I have ridden her after
the hounds several times. A party was made up this
week. The day appointed for the hunt was an un
common one for the time of year, though not the
less welcome than unexpected.

We mustered eight dogs and moved on through
the woods, where the long-leaved pine, sparsely
distributed, towers up among the red and the white
palmetto. At length we came upon the hunting-
ground, and Jupiter was ordered with the pack to
drive a branch or arm of the bayou that shot out
from the main body of the hummock. He had not
advanced far before a single note, low, deep-toned,
and prolonged, brought glad tidings and true to the
ears of his master.

"Hark to him!" cried the Captain. " Listen to
old Enoch ; that was his voice, and it is a voice that
never deceives. He has struck a cold trail and
carefully and truly will the old fellow follow it.
Hark again ! another note ; he will soon track the
deer to his lair, and rouse him from his noon-day
repose. We must separate, and be ready for him
when the dogs force him from cover."

Old Enoch continued his course slowly and accu-

136

T ravel I e

[No. 45

rately, from time to time giving notice of his prog
ress ; when all at once the whole pack, bursting into
full cry, proclaimed that the deer was up. Each
horseman concealed himself and horse as much as
possible behind a tree or bush, and waited in silence
and anxious expectancy for the moment when the
deer, on being closely pressed, should leave the
hummock. In a few minutes, however, Bell, having
listened attentively to the cry, put spurs to his mare,

dashed down the
branch to its junc
tion with the bayou,
threw the reins on
his mare's neck, and
sat loosely in the
saddle, prepared to
deliver his fire at
the first bound of the
deer from cover. His
judgment proved to
be correct : the bois
terous cry of the
pack passed, succes
sively, each of the disappointed hunters stationed
above; but as the deer approached the junction, he
caught the wind of his enemy, and declined to leave
the cover ; and the cry of the pack soon proved that
he had directed his flight up the main bayou. As
Bell rode back, he called out,

" This fellow is disposed to breathe our horses.
We are entered for a good mile race by this manoeuvre.
The stand is the first cove above this branch ; if we let
him pass that, he is safe for the day. Come on." An
animated whoop started us at full speed, and in another

AN EARLY LOCOMOTIVE.

NO. 45] A Deer Hunt 137

moment we were sweeping through the rattling pal
mettos with the sound of a hurricane. Stands were
taken as the judgment of the individual dictated, and
scarcely were we disposed of, ere the chase came
thundering on. Again we were disappointed ; the
deer, having approached to the very edge of the hum
mock, again caught the wind of his pursuers, and
doubling back, returned in the same trail he had
advanced upon.

The pack came dashing out above almost as the
buck went in again to the hummock below : they
circled round where the deer had doubled, and with
out for a moment faltering followed him back again.
The cry of the pack soon told that the buck as he
regained the cover had dashed through to the banks
of the bayou, where plunging in he swam the stream
and hied him off to the northward.

A few hundred yards farther brought us through
the thicket, and we at once came upon a large
savannah. When we entered upon the opening,
Bell cast his eye down the bayou and discovered the
buck coming up on the opposite side of the savannah,
steadily pursued by the dogs, (though at some dis
tance,) whence they sent forward the intelligence of
their coming in deep-toned and eager cries. The
poor buck, nearly exhausted with the long and unin
terrupted run, was laboring under the weight of his
branching antlers ; his parched tongue lolled from his
husky throat.

The Captain, at a glance, perceived his condition,
and called out to me, " We can take him as he passes
the head of the pond."

Again putting spurs to our horses, we gained the
head of the savannah in advance of him. On reach-

138 Travellers [NO. 46

ing the savannah, the buck had been compelled to
leave the wind, the only medium through which he
receives warning of danger in front ; for when hotly
pursued, his eyesight soon fails him, and his ears are
filled with the fearful cry of the hounds in his rear.
It followed, then, that when we drew up at the dis
tance of some two hundred yards in his front, he con
tinued his course, unconscious of our presence. The
Captain whispered, " The first shot is yours; fire."

I drew up my piece, and fired ; but the excitement
of the chase, and the fatigue of my bridle-arm, caused
my aim to be unsteady, and my bullet cut the leaves
from the bushes above his head.

The buck sprang forward at the report, and re
doubled his efforts. The white mare now stood
statue-like, with ears erect and eyes fixed upon the
noble deer still advancing; and before the fated
patriarch of the wilds had made two leaps, the Cap
tain's piece rang forth his death-knell. The buck
made one tremendous leap ; staggered forward a few
yards in quick, irregular plunges ; recovered himself ;
and then, expending the remaining energies of vital
ity in one majestic bound, fell lifeless on the plain.

46. Alligators

BY GEORGE MCCALL (1830)

THE weather is now delightful, though quite warm
at mid-day. The alligators, who have lain torpid all
winter, packed away in their dens in the river-banks,
have come abroad to enjoy the genial sunshine, and
to commit havoc on all animals who venture into the
water which they inhabit. The Colonel lost a very

NO. 46] Alligators 139

fine Northern cow a few days ago by one of these
monsters. She had waded into the river by the side
of the wharf just about daylight or soon after, and,
although almost under the eye of the sentinel, was
seized, terribly lacerated and dragged under water.
Another officer lost a good pony much in the same
way ; he had waded into the water at noon to drink
and cool his flanks, when he was caught by the hock
and completely hamstrung. • After suffering under
such depredations, orders were given, as you may
well suppose, that the sentinel posted at the wharf
should fire upon every alligator that showed his nose
above water. In this way quite a number have been
killed.

I will give you my experience in one or two cases
occurring under my own eyes. In the first place, I
must tell you that a short time since, being on duty
as officer of the day, I made the round of visiting the
different guards and sentinels, the last inspected
being at the subsistence stores, in front of which is
the wharf. I observed several officers seated under
a large live-oak, just below the store-houses. Here,
at ten o'clock in the morning, they were enjoying the
refreshing sea-breeze then coming over the placid
bay. I joined them with a glad appreciation of the
shade and the delicious air so welcome after an
hour's walk under a hot sun.

I had not been many minutes in conversation with
these gentlemen, when the top of an alligator's skull,
his cold, hard, unmeaning eye, and the tip of his
nose, all that he usually shows above water as he re
connoitres "the land ahead," appeared suddenly in
the stream, not thirty yards from the sentinel's post.
The latter happened to be a man of my own com-

140 Travellers [NO. 46

pany, who was, I knew, a crack shot. I gave him a
signal to fire. Without an instant's pause, he brought
his musket to his shoulder and made a "snap-shot."
The huge creature sprung half out of water, and
falling upon his back, lashed the water with his tail.
This was apparently a large fellow, and I directed
two of the guard, who were standing by as spectators,
to take a canoe that lay at the wharf, and bring the
reptile ashore. He was dragged up near to the tree
under which we sat, and measured thirteen feet.

As I wanted a good tooth from which to fashion a
powder-charger for my rifle, I sent for an axe. With
this the man struck two heavy blows, driving the
edge of the axe up to the eye into the animal's skull,
destroying, as one would think, all the brain,
if any there was left after the shock produced by the
musket-ball, which had passed entirely through it.

While we still sat under the oak, perhaps half an
hour after the alligator had undergone the operation
so thoroughly performed by the axe-man, we were
not a little surprised to see the fellow, who lay with
his head turned from the water, rise upon his feet,
wheel completely round, and walk directly into the
water, a distance of about ten feet. He made his
way through the bulrushes, at least ten feet more,
until he reached a depth that brought the water to
the top of his back, and there he lay, I presume,
until the high tide floated him off, for he had not
moved when the call of " Roast-beef" upon the drum
and fife summoned us to dinner, at one o'clock.

Another instance is a rather comical one that hap
pened to myself. I had been out to ride, one morn
ing, with Lieutenant Alexander, when, in returning,
we saw in the road in front of us, at the distance of

NO. 46] Alligators 141

a couple of hundred yards from the guard-house, an
alligator about seven feet in length. He had come
from the river, and was crossing the road to a pond
near by. As we drew up for a moment to look at
him, I happened to see lying by the road-side a pine
pole of some ten feet long, and as thick as my arm,
that had fallen from a passing wagon. This sug
gested to my mind the idea of having a little en
counter with the fellow, with a view to capture him
if I could. Accordingly I dismounted, and giving
the reins to Alexander, I seized the pole, which was
quite as much as I could manage with both hands.

As I approached Mr. Alligator, swinging the pole
in quite a threatening attitude around my head, he
showed no disposition to back out ; but, on the con
trary, he at once faced me and advanced boldly with
head erect, and hissing like forty geese. I stopped
to receive him, and as he came within reach, I brought
the pine pole down upon his head with all the force
I was master of. This neither appalled him nor
checked his advance, and he continued his charge,
slowly to be sure, but with great determination, still
uttering his hissing defiance, and totally regardless
of the heavy blows I continued to pile upon his head.
I was compelled to move backwards to keep out of
reach of his open jaws, but I continued to hammer
him well over the head all the time.

At length my perseverance and the weight of the
pine pole brought his head to the ground. I then
took hold of the end of his tail with my left hand,
and mounting my horse dragged my victim into the
garrison. Having arrived at my quarters, I hitched
my horse to the ring in a large live-oak in front, and
leaving the alligator where he lay by the side of the

14.2 Travellers [NO. 46

horse, I entered my sitting-room where the company
clerk was engaged in making out some returns.

While standing at the table looking at his work, a
loud shout and a merry laugh from the parade-ground
called me to the door. Here I beheld my friend,
Master Alligator, with head up, marching with great
dignity across the parade-ground toward the soldiers'
barracks, while the men were collecting round him
in high glee. Being much interested in my returns
to be sent to Washington by the vessel now looked
for, I resumed my work and heard no more of the
alligator. He of course was only stunned by the
hammering he had received, but many of the blows I
gave him would singly have killed a horse.

PART IV

OUT WEST

47. Building a Log Cabin

BY A PIONEER (1822)

IN building our cabin it was set north and south ;
my brother used my father's pocket compass on the
occasion, for we had no idea of living in a house that
did not stand square with the earth itself. This
showed our ignorance of the comforts and conven
iences of a pioneer life. The position of the house,
end to the hill, necessarily elevated the lower end,
and the determination to have both a north and south
door, added much to the airiness of the house, par
ticularly after the green ash puncheons had shrunk
so as to leave cracks in the floor and doors from one
to two inches wide. At both the doors we had high,
unsteady, and sometimes icy steps, made by piling up
the logs cut out of the wall. We had a window, if it
could be called a window, when, perhaps, it was the
largest spot in the top, bottom, or sides of the cabin
at which the wind could not enter. It was made by
sawing out a log, and placing sticks across ; and then,
by pasting an old newspaper over the hole, and apply
ing some hog's lard, we had a kind of glazing which
shed a most beautiful and mellow light across the
cabin when the sun shone on it. All other light en
tered at the doors, cracks, and chimney.

J43

144

Out West

[No. 47

Our cabin was twenty-four feet by eighteen. The
west end was occupied by two beds, the centre of each
side by a door, and here our symmetry had to stop,
for on the side opposite the window were our shelves,
made of clapboards, supported on pins driven into the
logs. Upon these shelves my sister displayed, in
ample order, a host of pewter plates, basins, dishes,
and spoons, scoured and bright. It was none of your
new-fangled pewter made of lead, but the best of

A LOG CABIN.

London pewter, which our father himself bought of
the manufacturer. These were the plates upon which
you could hold your meat so as to cut it without slip
ping and without dulling your knife. But, alas ! the
days of pewter plates and sharp dinner knives have
passed away.

To return to our internal arrangements. A ladder
of five rounds occupied the corner near the window.
By this, when we got a floor above, we could ascend.

NO. 47] A Log Cabin 145

Our chimney occupied most of the east end; there
were pots and kettles opposite the window under the
shelves, a gun on hooks over the north door, four
split-bottom chairs, three three-legged stools, and a
small eight by ten looking-glass sloped from the wall
over a large towel and combcase. Our list of furni
ture was increased by a clumsy shovel and a pair of
tongs, made with one shank straight, which was a cer
tain source of pinches and blood blisters. We had
also a spinning-wheel and such things as were neces
sary to work it. It was absolutely necessary to have
three-legged stools, as four legs of anything could not
all touch the floor at the same time.

The completion of our cabin went on slowly. The
season was inclement, we were weak-handed and
weak-pocketed, — in fact laborers were not to be had.
We got our chimney up breast high as soon as we
could, and got our cabin daubed as high as the joists
outside. It never was daubed on the inside, for my
sister, who was very nice, could not consent to " live
right next to mud." My impression now is, that the
window was not constructed till spring, for until the
sticks and clay were put on the chimney we could
have no need of a window ; for the flood of light which
always poured into the cabin from the fireplace would
have extinguished our paper window, and rendered it
as useless as the moon at noonday. We got a floor
laid overhead as soon as possible, perhaps in a month ;
but when finished, the reader will readily conceive of
its imperviousness to wind or weather, when we men
tion that it was laid of loose clapboards split from
red oak, the stump of which may be seen beyond the
cabin. That tree must have grown in the night, for
it was so twisting that each board lay on two diago-

146 Out West [NO. 48

nally opposite corners ; and a cat might have shaken
every board on our ceiling.

It may be well to inform the unlearned reader
that " clapboards " are such lumber as pioneers split
throughout ; they resemble barrel staves before they
are shaved, but are split longer, wider, and thinner ;
of such our roof and ceiling were composed. " Pun
cheons " are planks made by splitting logs to about two
and a half or three inches in thickness, and hewing
them on one or both sides with the broad-axe; of
such our floor, doors, tables, and stools were manu
factured. The " eave-bearers " are those end logs
which project over to receive the butting poles, against
which the lower tier of clapboards rest to form the
roof. The " trapping " is the roof timbers, composing
the gable end and the ribs. The " trap logs " are those
of unequal length above the eave-bearers, which form
the gable ends, and upon which the ribs rest. The
" weight poles " are small logs laid on the roof, which
weigh down the course of clapboards on which they
lie, and against which the next course above is placed.
The " knees " are pieces of heart timber placed above
the butting poles, successively, to prevent the weight
poles from rolling off.

48. The Bear Tree

13 v A PIONEER (1820)

AMONG the first settlers of a new country, there
are always found men of great courage. Indeed
courage and daring are characteristic of the pioneers
of any new region. All know (or ought to know)

NO. 4s] The Bear Tree 147

before starting for a wilderness, that they will be
called to encounter great dangers and difficulties.
There is, however, a kind of venturous daring peculiar
to the first settlers of a new country, such as General
Putnam showed when he ventured into the wolf's
den, at the time of the first settlement of Pomfret,
Connecticut.

A case of as great risk, intrepidity, and danger,
took place at Greensburgh, Trumbull County, Ohio,
soon after the commencement of the settlement at
that place. In December, 1820, a man named Icha-
bod Merritt, with two other companions (one of whom
had been a sailor) went upon a hunting trip, and
came upon the track of a full grown bear. There
was a light snow, and after following for a time, they
found he had ascended a huge white-wood. The tree
had been broken off some seventy feet from the ground
and they supposed that the bear must have secreted
himself within its hollow at the top.

Unwilling to lose their game, and ready for any
daring enterprise, they looked about for ways and
means to accomplish their object. They first proposed
cutting the tree down ; but they had only one axe,
and that a dull one, and the tree was sound at the
root and not less than eighteen feet in circumference.
They could not cut it down before sunset, and if left
over night the bear would escape. The sailor pro
posed that if a smaller tree could be felled and lodged
against the large one, he would climb it to the top
and shoot the bear. A beech tree was therefore cut
and lodged accordingly. The sailor, who had often
ascended the waving mast, had now a chance to show
his intrepidity upon a forest tree.

Now he began to think how dangerous would be

148 Out U^est [NO. 48

his perch, should he succeed in gaining the top and
miss his first shot. The enraged bear would un
doubtedly claim the premises, especially should it be
a she bear with her cubs ; she would doubtless claim
her right and title to that elevated position, and might
have the best of the battle. In this case all would
agree that the bear would have a choice of location
and the advantage of position. In the struggle, too,
the beech might be dislodged from the white-wood,
and the sailor would either fall with it to the ground,
or be left at the top of the tree. The first would be
certain death, and the other would not be amusing.

These were solemn thoughts for the sailor, and they
weakened his nerve, so that when he attempted to
climb, he could not ascend, after repeatedly trying,
an inch farther than his companions could push him.

Merritt was so vexed that he told the sailor to come
down and let him try what he could do. He then
slung his rifle to his hunting belt with the muzzle
downwards and began to ascend the beech tree. He
succeeded in getting from the topmost branches of
the beech upon the limbs of the white-wood just high
enough to look over into the hollow. It was dark,
and all he could see was a pair of eyes several feet
below him. He told his companions, charged them
to shoot the bear the moment it came out of the tree,
and called on them for protection, if he missed.

Thereupon he fired into the tree, retreated back
to the top of the beech and instantly re-loaded.
Immediately the bear with two cubs came out of the
hollow of the tree : one of the men below fired, but
he missed. The cubs took to a limb while the old
bear made towards Merritt. She was in a menacing
attitude and but a few feet above him when he fired

NO. 49] The Pioneer 149

a second shot The bear fell, just brushing against
him as she went. Another hunter now came up and
shot one of the cubs, and Merritt at his leisure re-loaded
and shot the other. The hero of this brave hunt made
his way down in safety and carried home plenty of
meat for his family.

49. The Pioneer's Watchful Dog

BY FELIX RENICK (1842)

AT a time when the Indians still occasionally com
mitted depredations on the settlements in the neigh
borhood of the Virginia town of Clarksburg, Hughs
and one of his neighbors had business on the Ohio :
they therefore agreed to go together ; and, as the
saying is, to kill two birds with one stone, for they
concluded to make a hunting expedition of it. They
set out by a new route, traveled slowly and killed
what game they could, leaving the skins to take
home with them on their return. On the second or
third evening of the trip, they made their camp in
time to prepare and eat their supper before nightfall.

Here is a good place to describe the dress and
habits of such bold foresters. They always chose a
camping-place as near water as convenient, and kin
dled their fire by the side of the largest suitable log
that could be found. Ground was chosen somewhat
inclined, so that they might lie with the feet to the
fire and the head uphill. The common mode of pre
paring food, was to sharpen a stick at both ends and
stick one end into the ground in front of the fire,
with their meat on the other end. The stick and its
burden could be turned round, as occasion required,

LEWIS IN INDIAN DRESS.

NO. 49] The Pioneer 151

so as to roast through. Bread, when there was flour
to make it of, was either baked under the ashes,
or the dough was rolled in long rolls and wound
round a stick like that prepared for roasting meat,
and managed in the same way.

The pioneer's dress consisted principally of a tow
linen shirt and pantaloons, manufactured by wives
and daughters. The rest of their dress was nearly
all of buckskin, killed with their guns and dressed
by their own hands. Their moccasins fitted the foot
neatly, and dry oak leaves usually supplied the place
of socks or stockings. Above these they wore a pair
of buckskin leggins, or gaiters, made to fit the leg
and tie in with the moccasins at the ankle ; thence
extending some distance above the knees, and held
by a strap from the hip of the pantaloons. These
leggins were a defence against rattlesnakes, briars,
and nettles. In cutting the leggins, the surplus left
on the outer seam was hung out from one to two
inches in width, and was cut into an ornamental
fringe. The hunting shirt comes next. It too was
made of dressed buckskin, and in the same way orna
mented with the fringe down the outside of the arms,
around the collar, cape, belt, and skirts, and some
times down the seams under the arms.

Such was the equipment of the hero of our narra
tive and his friend. As was customary, they took
off their moccasins to dry them. The gaiters and
hunting shirt were usually taken off and placed under
their owner's head in place of a pillow. A huntsman
without a dog would have been considered a fool ;
accordingly, a dog, faithful and well trained, Hughs
and his friend had with them. At dusk they began
to make some preparations for lying down, by

152 Out ffiest [NO. 49

unbuttoning their leggins and loosing their belts.
Hughs soon discovered that his dog was very rest
less. He would run out a few steps, snuff and scent
the air, and frequently give a low stifled growl.

Hughs' suspicion made him decline undressing
any further, and he buckled up his belt again ; but,
unfortunately, as may be seen from the sequel, he
forgot to button the straps of his leggins to the hips
of his pantaloons. After watching his dog for some
time, he spoke to his friend, and told him that he
was afraid there were Indians about. His friend
thought it hardly possible, for they had discovered
no Indian signs, nor heard the crack of any rifle but
their own : he could not believe that they were followed.

This reasoning did not satisfy either Hughs or his
dog. Hughs told his friend that they had better
leave the camp and watch it from a little distance ;
if there were Indians about, as he was convinced,
they would break on the camp as soon as they sup
posed the white men had gone to sleep, or in the
morning ; if he was right in his suspicion, they could
kill at least two Indians, and then, perhaps might
get off.

Nothing could induce his friend to believe that
there was any danger, and he refused to leave the
camp. Hughs then told him that he would not leave
him alone, but they must sleep on their arms and be
ready for anything that might happen. To this his
friend agreed. Hughs and his dog had a poor night's
rest ; and as soon as day began fairly to break, the
dog broke out into a furious bark. They both sprang
to their feet at the same instant that a volley of rifle
shot was poured in upon them. Hughs' friend was
killed on the spot, but he himself received no injury

NO. 5o] Frontier Neighbours 153

except a bullet or two through his hunting-shirt.
He took to his heels with a whole band of Indians
close after him ; but luckily for him, their guns were
empty. At first he out-ran them with ease, but his
loosened leggins slipped down about his ankles, and
got over his feet and hampered him so much, that
the Indians began to gain on him. He must get
clear of his leggins or lose his scalp. Straining
every nerve, he ran up a ridge and a little beyond
the top he stopped, and tore off his leggins. By this
time the Indians came up nearly within tomahawk
distance of him ; relieved of his embarrassment, he
again set off at the top of his speed and soon gained
a safe distance. As he passed over the top of the
next high ridge he gave a loud shout of triumph, well
understood by the Indians ; for they gave up the
chase, and let him make for home at his leisure.

50. A Frontier Neighbour and a
Kentucky Conjurer

BY JAMES HALL (1835)

THE individual alluded to, settled here at a time
when there was not a single white man but himself
in the vicinity, and here he had resided, with his wife,
for a year, without having seen the face of any other
human being. Perhaps, as it was his choice to re
side in a wilderness, he thought it prudent to con
ceal his place of abode from the Indians, for he
erected his cabin in an inhospitable waste, difficult
of access, where there were no pastures to invite the

154 Out litest [NO. 5o

deer or buffalo, and no game to allure the savage
hunter, and where his family remained secure, while
he roved with his gun over some hunting ground at
a convenient distance.

After passing a year in this mode of life, he wan
dered one day through the woods in search of game,
when he heard the barking of a dog, and supposing
that an Indian was near, concealed himself. Pres
ently a small dog came running along his track, with
his nose to the ground, as if pursuing his footsteps.
It had nearly reached his hiding-place, when it
stopped, snuffed the air, and uttered a low whine, as
if to warn its master, that the object of pursuit was
near at hand. In a few minutes the owner of the
dog came stepping cautiously along, glancing his
eyes around, and uttering low signals to the dog.
But the dog stood at fault, and the owner halted,
within a few yards of our hunter, and fully exposed
to view.

The new comer was a tall athletic man, completely
armed, with rifle, tomahawk, and knife ; but whether
he was a white man or an Indian, could not be deter
mined, either by his complexion or dress. He wore
a hunting shirt and leggins, of dressed deer skin, and
a hat from which the rim was entirely torn away, and
the crown elongated into the shape of a sugar loaf.
His face, feet, and hands, which were exposed, were
of the tawny hue of the savage, but whether the col
our was natural, or the effect of exposure, could not
be ascertained even by the keen eye of the hunter.
His features were so disguised by dirt and gunpow
der, that their expression afforded no clue, by which
could be decided, whether the individual was a friend
or a foe.

NO. 5oj Frontier Neighbours 155

There was but a moment for deliberation, and after
a hasty scrutiny, the pioneer, inclining to the opin
ion that the stranger was an Indian, cautiously drew
up his rifle, and took a deliberate aim ; but the bare
possibility that he might be pointing his weapon at
the bosom of a countryman, induced him to pause.
Again he raised his gun, and again hesitated, while
his opponent with his rifle half raised towards his
face, and his finger on the trigger, looked eagerly
around. Both stood motionless and silent, one
searching for the object of his pursuit, the other in
readiness to fire. At length the hunter, having re
solved to delay no longer, cocked his rifle ; the tick
reached the acute ear of his opponent, who instantly
sprung behind a tree. The hunter imitated his ex
ample, and they were now fairly opposed, each
covered by a tree, from behind which he endeav
oured to get a shot at his adversary without exposing
his own person. Now a series of stratagems began,
each seeking to draw the fire of the other until the
stranger, becoming weary of suspense, called out,
" Why don't you shoot, you coward ? " " Shoot, your
self, you red-skin," retorted the other. " No more a
red-skin than yourself." "Are you a white man?"
" To be sure I am, are you?" "Yes — no mistake
in me." Whereupon each being undeceived, they
threw down their guns, rushed together with open
arms, and took a hearty hug.

The hunter now learned, that the stranger had
been settled, with his family, about ten miles from
him, for several months past, and that they had often
roamed over the same hunting grounds each suppos
ing himself the sole inhabitant of that region. On
the following day the hunter saddled his horse, and

156 Out U^est [NO. 5o

taking up his good wife behind him, carried her
down, to make a call upon her new neighbour, who
received the visit with joy.

An anecdote is told of Boone, which is highly
characteristic of the humour and the coolness of the
pioneer. He was once resting in the woods, with a
small number of followers, when a large party of
Indians came suddenly upon them and halted ;
neither party had discovered the other until they
came in contact. The whites were eating ; and the
Indians, with the ready tact for which they are
famous, sat down with perfect composure and com
menced eating also. It was obvious that they wished
to lull the suspicions of the white men, and to seize
a favourable opportunity for rushing upon them.

Boone affected a careless inattention ; but in an
under tone, quietly admonished his men to keep
their hands upon their rifles. He then strolled
towards the Indians, unarmed, and leisurely picking
the meat from a bone ; the Indian leader, who was
similarly employed, rose to meet him. Boone saluted
him, and then requested to look at the knife with
which the Indian was cutting his meat. The chief
handed it to him without hesitation ; and our pio
neer, who, with his other accomplishments, possessed
considerable expertness at sleight of hand, deliber
ately opened his mouth and affected to swallow the
long knife, which, at the same instant, he threw
adroitly into his sleeve.

The Indians were astonished ; Boone gulped,
rubbed his throat, stroked his body, and then, with
apparent satisfaction, pronounced the horrid mouth
ful to be very good. He enjoyed the surprise of the
spectators for a few moments, then made another con-

NO. 5o] Conjurers 157

tortion, drew forth the knife, as they supposed, from
his body, and civilly returned it to the chief. The
latter took the point cautiously between his thumb and
finger, as if fearful of being contaminated by touch
ing the weapon, and threw it from him into the
bushes. The pioneer sauntered back to his party;
and the Indians, instantly despatching their meal,
marched off, desiring no farther intercourse with a
man who could swallow a scalping-knife.

A singular manoeuvre was practised by a party of
Indians, who had stolen some horses on Elkhorn, in
1788. They were pursued by a superior number of
Americans, for about twenty miles, and overtaken
at a spot in a brushy copse of wood where they had
halted to rest. The whites came upon them sud
denly, and the parties discovered each other simul
taneously. The pursuers made preparations to fire ;
the Indians sprang up from the ground, on which
they were sitting, and gave a yell ; but, instead of
making any show of resistance, ran about as if dis
tracted. One, who was probably the chief, threw
himself between the two parties, and continued to
scream and jump, dodging from side to side, springing
aloft, and throwing his body into violent contortions.

This strange exhibition attracted the attention of
the Kentuckians, and prevented them from firing ;
while the other Indians, gathering up their guns and
blankets, disappeared. When the dexterous savage,
perceiving that his comrades were so scattered as to
be safe from immediate danger, he suddenly threw
off his feigned character, dashed into the bushes, and
made his escape, leaving a foe superior in numbers,
bewildered with amazement at this extemporaneous
display of ingenuity.

158 Out W^est [NO. 5i

51. A Bear Hunt in Lake
Michigan

BY CHARLES CLEAVER (about 1830)

As for Wilson's bear story, it is actually true that
he took a large bear in Lake Michigan, or rather out
of the lake, northwest of Waukegan. I was going
up to Milwaukee at the time, in one of the big steam
ers, and was sitting reading in the cabin, when the
Captain rushed in, evidently very much excited, and
snatched his glass from the table. I inquired what
was the matter ; he said there was something in the
lake about two miles ahead, and they could not make
out what it was. Of course my book was dropped
in a moment, and I hastened after the Captain to the
bow of the boat. There I found most of the few
passengers on board anxiously trying to make out
this strange object. Those used to sailing can form
some idea of the commotion caused on board a craft
when anything unusual is sighted.

The Captain, after examination by glass, first said
it was a horse, then a deer, and, on getting nearer,
declared it to be a bear. He decided at once that he
would catch him at all hazard, and, on calling for
volunteers, found no want of men willing to under
take the task. So the small boat was lowered, with
four stalwart sailors at the oars, the mate at the helm,
and a man at the bow, with a rope, in which he made
a slip-noose. They started for poor Bruin, and when
he found that they were after him, he made most excel
lent time toward the middle of the lake, and for a mile
or two led them a splendid race, before they came up

NO. 5i] ^4 Bear Hunt 159

with him. After two or three attempts, the man at
the bow threw the fatal noose over his head. Di
rectly the bear found he was caught, he turned and
made for the boat, evidently intending to carry the
war into the enemy's camp ; but they were too quick
for him, since they did not like the idea of having a
bear for a passenger. They turned and rowed for
the steamer with all their might. This brought poor
Bruin's nose under the water, and, by the time they
reached the steamboat, which had been following
pretty close in the wake of the pursuers, he was
almost drowned.

The rope was thrown to the deck ; we soon hauled
him in ; and then held a council-of-war as to what
should be done with him. It was at first suggested
that he should be chained up, and a large chain was
brought and put round his neck. Then some ladies
came to look at him, and exclaimed, " Oh the horrid
great creature ! do kill him ! " Some person stand
ing by put his hand on the animal's heart and said
he was fast recovering, and, if he was not killed, would
soon be master of the boat. On which a bevy of
female and some male voices, cried out to the Captain
to have him killed at once. On a butcher offering
to do the job, the Captain consented, and the bear
was doomed to have his throat cut and die as igno
minious a death as any common porker.

He was a noble fellow, black and tan, seven or
eight feet in length, and, when he was skinned,
showed such claws and muscles that the volunteers
rejoiced that he did not make good his entry into the
boat, for he 'would certainly have driven them into
the water if they had escaped his claws and teeth.

It was reported that a farmer drove him into the

i 6 o Out U^est [NO. 52

lake. On my return to land, two days after, I made
several inquiries, and was told he was driven into the
lake the evening before ; but I always doubted the
truth of his swimming in the water all night and half
the next day. I am inclined to the opinion that he
was driven in that same morning, and, when he found
'he was watched from the shore, put well out into
the lake for safety. It is certain that when first
seen by us he was swimming from the shore, and
was fully five miles out.

52. Killing a Panther

BY RANDOLPH BARNES MARCY (1852)

IN the evening, shortly after we had turned out our
animals to graze, and had made everything snug and
comfortable about us, one of the hunters came into
camp and informed us that a panther had crossed the
creek but a short distance above, and was coming
towards us. This piece of intelligence, as may be
supposed, created no little excitement in our quiet
circle. Everybody was up in an instant, seized mus
kets, rifles, or any other weapon that came to hand,
and, followed by all the dogs in camp, a very general
rush was made towards the spot indicated by the
Delaware. On reaching the place, we found where
the animal, in stepping from the creek, had left water
upon his track ; this was not yet dry, and showed
that he had passed within a short time. We pointed
out the track to several of the dogs, and endeavored,
by every means which our ingenuity could suggest,
to inspire them with some small degree of that enthu
siasm which had animated us. We coaxed, cheered,

NO. 52] Killing a Panther 161

and scolded, put their noses into the track, clapped
our hands, pointed in the direction of the trail, hissed,
and made use of every argument to convince them
that there was something of importance on hand ; but
it was all to no purpose. They did not seem to enter
into the spirit of the chase, or to regard the occasion
as one in which there was much glory to be derived
from following in the footsteps of their illustrious
predecessor. On the contrary, the zeal which they
showed in starting out from camp, suddenly abated
as soon as they came in contact with the track, and
it was with very great difficulty that we could prevent
them from running away.

At this moment, however, our old bear-dog came
up, and no sooner had he caught a snuff of the at
mosphere than, suddenly coming to a stop and rais
ing his head into the air, he sent forth one prolonged
note and started off in full cry upon the trail. He
led off boldly into the timber, followed by the other
dogs, who had now recovered confidence, while the
men followed at their heels, cheering them on and
shouting most vociferously, each one anxious to get
the first glimpse of the panther. They soon roused
him from his lair, and after making a few circuits
around the grove, he took to a tree. I was so fortu
nate as to reach the spot a little in advance of the
party, and gave him a shot which brought him to the
ground. The dogs then closed in with him, and
others of the party coming up directly afterwards,
fired several shots, which took effect and soon placed
him "hors du combat." He was a fine specimen
of the North American cougar, measuring eight
and a half feet from his nose to the extremity of
the tail.

I 62 Out If^CSt [No. 53

53. A Beaver Dam

BY RANDOLPH BARNES MARCY (1852)

A COMMUNITY of beavers have selected a spot upon
the creek near our camp, for their interesting labors
and habitations. I know of no animal concerning
which the accounts of travellers have been more
extraordinary, more marvellous or contradictory, than
those given of the beaver. By some he is elevated
in point of intellect almost to a level with man. He
has been said, for instance, to construct houses, with
several floors and rooms ; to plaster the rooms with
mud in such a manner as to make smooth walls, and
to drive stakes of six or eight inches in diameter into
the ground, and to perform many other astounding
feats, which I am inclined to believe are not sup
ported by credible testimony. Laying aside these
questionable statements, there is quite enough in the
natural history of the beaver to excite our wonder
and admiration. For instance, at this place, upon an
examination of the dam they have constructed, I was
both astonished and delighted at the wonderful sa
gacity, skill, and perseverance which they have shown.

Having chosen a spot where the banks on each side
of the creek were narrow and sufficiently high to
raise a head of about five feet, they selected two
cotton-wood trees fifteen inches in diameter, situated
above this point, and inclined towards the stream :
these they cut down with their teeth, (as the marks
upon the stumps plainly showed,) floated them down
to the position chosen for the dam, and placed them
across the stream with an inclination downward,
uniting in the centre. This formed the foundation

NO. 54] A Wild Horse 163

upon which the superstructure of brush and earth
was placed, in precisely the same manner as a brush
dam is made by our millwrights, with the bushes and
earth alternating and packed closely, the butts in all
cases turned down the stream. After this is raised
to a sufficient height, the top is covered with earth,
except in the centre, where there is a sluice or waste-
wier, which lets off the superfluous water when it
rises so high as to endanger the structure. In exam
ining the results of the labors of these ingenious ani
mals, it occurred to me that the plan of erecting our
brush dams must have been originally suggested from
seeing those of the beavers, as they are very similar.
I watched for some time upon the banks of the
pond, but could see none of the animals. I presume
they think we make too much noise in our camp to
suit them, and deem it most prudent to remain con
cealed in their sub-marine houses. I observed one
place above the pond where they had commenced
another dam, and had progressed so far as to cut
down two trees on opposite sides of the creek ; but
as they did not fall in the right direction to suit their
purposes, the work was abandoned.

54. A Horse in a California Bar
room

BY MRS. D. B. BATES (1858)

WHILE stopping at the Tremont House, I witnessed
what to me was a novel sight ; and I will endeavor
to relate, in a manner which I hope will interest, the
method of taming a wild horse. The first thing I

164 Out IPeSt [No. 54

saw was an unusual collection of people, and in their
midst a horse blindfolded, with a Mexican vaquero in
the act of mounting. When once seated on the back
of these wild, fleet animals of the plains, it is next to
an impossibility to unhorse these men. From the
nature of their pursuits and amusements, they have
brought horsemanship to a degree of perfection
challenging admiration, and exciting astonishment.
All things being in readiness, the blinder was re
moved. The horse, for the first time in his life
feeling the weight of man upon his back, with dis
tended nostrils, eyes glaring like orbs of fire, and
protruding from their sockets, gave a succession of
fierce snorts, performed sundry evolutions which
would have puzzled the master of a gymnasium to
have imitated, and then dashed off at a furious rate,
determined to free himself from his captor, or die in
the attempt.

It was an exciting and cruel sport to witness. The
reeking sides of the poor beast were covered with
foam and blood, which had been drawn by driving
those merciless spurs into the flesh. Both horse and
rider would disappear for a few moments in some
distant part of the town, then reappear again, dash
ing madly on. Finally, the horse, in passing the
Tremont Hotel, which was all thrown open in front
to admit air, sprang, quick as a flash, upon the piazza,
and dashed into the bar-room. In making his ingress
so suddenly, the Mexican's head had been forcibly
struck against the top of the door, and he fell
stunned to the floor. The inmates of the bar-room,
about twenty in number, fled in every direction. The
bar-keeper, a very corpulent person, went out through
a small back window — so small, that, upon ordinary

NO. 54] A IFild Horse 165

occasions, he would never have had the presumption
to attempt it, for -it actually endangered his life sud
denly to thrust his portly figure through so small an
aperture ; but now, out of two evils, he was forced to
choose the least. The horse, finding himself in un
disputed possession of the room, stood for a moment
looking at himself in a large mirror hung behind
the long marble slab. Then he dashed furiously at
the bar, upset it, smashed the splendid mirror into a
thousand pieces, broke the cut-glass decanters, while
the contents ran upon the floor. He also broke to
pieces several large arm-chairs, valued at twelve dol
lars apiece. Then he passed through a side-door into
a large saloon, and crossed that without doing any
material damage. As the horse was leaving the house,
the Mexican, who recovered his senses, sprang with
surprising agility upon his back, and the race for
freedom again commenced ; but this time it was not
for long. The horse, reduced almost to prostration,
yielded to the superior power of man, and was taken,
more dead than alive, to a stable, rubbed down,
placed in a stall, fed, and petted ; and, from the
hour in which he unwillingly gave up a life of free
dom, never more to roam with a wild herd over broad
plains and flowery vales, he was a gentle, submissive
slave.

The wild horse is gracefully formed, with flowing
tail and mane ; but I never saw one that was fat :
they race their flesh off. The man who owned the
horse readily paid the expenses of refitting the bar
room. The amount of property he destroyed was at
that time estimated at a thousand dollars.

i66

Out West

[No. 55

55. On the Road

BY FRANCIS PARKMAN (1847)

WE were moving slowly along, not far from a patch
of woods which lay on the right. Jack rode a little in
advance, when suddenly he faced about, pointed to
the woods, and roared out to his brother, —

"O Bill! here's a cow."

The Captain instantly galloped forward, and he
and Jack made a vain attempt to capture the prize ;

THE OREGON TRAIL.

but the cow, with a well-grounded distrust of their
intentions, took refuge among the trees. Rob joined
them, and they soon drove her out. We watched
their evolutions as they galloped around her, trying
in vain to noose her with their trail-ropes, which they
had converted into lariettes for the occasion. At
length they resorted to milder measures, and the cow

NO. 55] On the Road 167

was driven along with the party. Soon after, the
usual thunder-storm came up, and the wind blew with
such fury that the streams of rain flew almost hori
zontally along the prairie, and roared like a cataract.
The horses turned tail to the storm, and stood hang
ing their heads, bearing the infliction with an air of
meekness and resignation ; while we drew our heads
between our shoulders, and crouched forward, so as
to make our back serve as a shed for the rest of our
persons.

Meanwhile the cow, taking advantage of the
tumult, ran off, to the great discomfiture of the Cap
tain. In defiance of the storm, he pulled his cap
tight over his brows, jerked a huge buffalo-pistol
from his holster, and set out at full speed after her.
This was the last we saw of them for some time, for
the mist and rain made an impenetrable veil; but at
length we heard the Captain's shout, and saw him
looming through the tempest, the picture of a Hiber
nian cavalier, with his cocked pistol held aloft for
safety's sake, and a countenance of anxiety and ex
citement. The cow trotted before him, but exhibited
evident signs of an intention to run off again, and the
Captain was roaring to us to head her. But the rain
had got in behind our coat collars, and was travelling
over our necks in numerous little streamlets, and being
afraid to move our heads, for fear of admitting more,
we sat stiff and immovable, looking at the Captain
askance, and laughing at his frantic movements.
At last the cow made a sudden plunge and ran off ;
the Captain grasped his pistol firmly, spurred his
horse, and galloped after, with evident designs of
mischief. In a moment we heard the faint report,
deadened by the rain, and then the conqueror and

1 68 Out West [NO. 56

his victim reappeared. Not long after, the storm
moderated, and we advanced again. The cow walked
painfully along under the charge of Jack, to whom
the Captain had committed her, while he himself
rode forward in his old capacity of vidette. We were
approaching a long line of trees, that followed a
stream stretching across our path, far in front, when
we beheld the vidette galloping towards us apparently
much excited, but with a broad grin on his face.

" Let that cow drop behind ! " he shouted to us ;
" here's her owners."

And, in fact, as we approached the line of trees, a
large white object, like a tent, was visible behind
them. On approaching, however, we found, instead
of the expected Mormon camp, nothing but the lonely
prairie, and a large white rock standing by the path.
The cow, therefore, resumed her place in our proces
sion.

56. The Bee-hunter

BY THOMAS THORPE (1846)

IT was on a beautiful Southern October morning,
at the hospitable mansion of a friend, that I first had
the pleasure of seeing Tom Owen. He was on this
occasion straggling up the rising ground that led to
the house of my host. His head was adorned with
an outlandish pattern of a hat ; his legs were clad in
a pair of trousers, beautifully fringed by the brier-
bushes through which they were often drawn ; coats
and vests he considered as superfluities ; hanging
upon his back were a couple of pails ; and an axe in

NO. 56] The Bee- hunter 169

his right hand formed the varieties that represented
Tom Owen. As is usual with great men, he had
his followers, and with a courtier-like humility they
depended upon the expression of his face for all their
hopes of success.

The usual salutations of meeting were sufficient to
draw me within the circle of his influence, and I at
once became one of his most ready followers. " See
yonder ! " said Tom, stretching his long arm into
infinite space, " see yonder — there's a bee." We all
looked in the direction he pointed, but that was the
extent of our observation. " It was a fine bee," con
tinued Tom, " black body, yellow legs, and into that
tree," pointing to a towering oak, blue in the dis
tance. " On a clear day I can see a bee over a mile,
easy!"

After a variety of wandering through the thick
woods, and clambering over fences, we came to our
place of destination as pointed out by Tom ; he
selected a mighty tree whose trunk contained the
sweets, the possession of which the poets have lik
ened to other sweets that leave a sting behind. The
felling of a great tree is a sight that calls up a variety
of emotions ; and Tom's game was lodged in one of
the finest in the forest. But " the axe was laid at the
root of the tree," which, in Tom's mind, was made
expressly for bees to build their nests in, that he
might cut them down and obtain possession thereof.
The sharp sounds of the axe as it played in the hands
of Tom, and was replied to by a stout negro from the
opposite side, rapidly gained upon the heart of the
lordly sacrifice. There was little poetry in the thought
that long before this mighty empire of states was
formed, Tom Owen's " bee-hive " had stretched' its

i 7 o Out West [NO. 56

brawny arms to the winter's blast and grown green
in the summer's sun. Yet such was the case, and
how long I might have moralized I know not, had
not the enraged buzzing about my ears satisfied me
that the occupants of the tree were not going to give
up their home and treasure without showing consid
erable practical fight. No sooner had the little in
sects satisfied themselves that they were about to be
invaded than they began one after another to descend
from their airy abode and fiercely pitch into our faces ;
anon a small company, headed by an old veteran,
would charge with its entire force upon all parts of
our body at once. It need not be said that the better
part of valor was displayed by a precipitate retreat
from such attacks.

In the midst of this warfare the tree began to trem
ble with the fast-repeated strokes of the axe, and then
might have been seen a bee-hive of stingers precipi
tating themselves from above on the unfortunate
hunter beneath. Now it was that Tom shone forth
in his glory.

His partisans, like many hangers-on about great
men, began to desert him on the first symptoms of
danger ; and when the trouble thickened, they one
and all, took to their heels, and left only our hero
and Sambo to fight their adversaries. Sambo, how
ever, soon dropped his axe and fell into all kinds of
contortions ; first he would seize the back of his neck
with his hands, then his shins, and yell with pain.
" Don't holler, nigger, till you get out of the woods,"
said the sublime Tom, consolingly ; but writhe he did,
until he broke and left Tom " alone in his glory."

Cut — thwack! sounded through the confused hum
at the foot of the tree, marvellously reminding me of

NO. 56] The Bee- hunter 171

the interruptions that occasionally broke in upon the
otherwise monotonous hours of my school-boy days.
A sharp cracking finally told me the chopping was
done, and looking aloft, I saw the mighty tree bal
ancing in the air. Slowly and majestically it bowed
for the first time towards its mother earth, gaining
velocity as it descended, shivering the trees that in
terrupted its downward course, and falling with thun
dering sound, splintering its mighty limbs and burying
them deeply in the ground.

The sun, for the first time in at least two centuries,
broke uninterruptedly through the chasm made in the
forest, and shone with splendor upon the magnificent
Tom standing a conqueror among his spoils.

As might be expected, the bees were very much
astonished and confused, and by their united voices
they proclaimed death to all their foes. But the wary
hunter was up to the tricks of this trade, and, like a
politician, he knew how easily an enraged mob could
be quelled with smoke ; and smoke he tried until his
enemies were completely destroyed. We, Tom's
hangers-on, now approached his treasure. It was
a rich one, and, as he observed, " contained a rich
chance of plunder." Nine feet, by measurement, of
the hollow of the tree was full, and this afforded many
pails of pure honey. Tom was liberal, and supplied
us all with more than we wanted, and with Sambo's
help, " toted" his share to his own home, where it
was soon devoured and replaced by the destruction
of another tree and another nation of bees.

PART V
INDIANS

57. A Little Indian Captive

By MRS. JULIETTE A. KINZIE (1779)
I

ON a bright afternoon in the autumn of 1779, two
children of Mr. Lytle, a girl of nine, and her brother,
two years younger, were playing in a little dingle or
hollow in the rear of their father's house. Some
large trees, which had been recently felled, were
lying here and there, still untrimmed of their
branches, and many logs, prepared for fuel, were
scattered around. Upon one of these the children,
wearied with their sports, seated themselves, and to
beguile the time they fell into conversation upon a
subject that greatly perplexed them.

While playing in the same place a few hours pre
vious, they had imagined they saw an Indian lurking
behind one of the fallen trees. The Indians of the
neighborhood were in the habit of making occasional
visits to the family, and they had become familiar
and even affectionate with many of them, but this
seemed a stranger, and after the first hasty glance
they fled in alarm to the house.

174 Indians [NO. 57

Their mother chid them for the report they brought,
which she endeavored to convince them was without
foundation. "You know," said she, "you are always
alarming us unnecessarily — the neighbors' children
have frightened you to death. Go back to your play
and learn to be more courageous."

So the children returned to their sports, hardly
persuaded by their mother's arguments. While they
were thus seated upon the trunk of the tree, their
discourse was interrupted by the note, apparently, of
a quail not far off.

" Listen," said the boy, as a second note answered
the first, " do you hear that ? "

" Yes," was the reply, and after a few moments'
silence, " do you not hear a rustling among the
branches of the tree yonder ? "

" Perhaps it is a squirrel — but look ! what is that ?
Surely I saw something red among the branches. It
looked like a fawn popping up its head."

At this moment, the children who had been
gazing so intently in the direction of the fallen tree
that all other objects were forgotten, felt themselves
seized from behind and pinioned in an iron grasp.
What were their horror and dismay to find them
selves in the arms of savages, whose terrific coun
tenances and gestures plainly showed them to be
enemies !

After a toilsome and painful march of many days,
the party reached the Seneca village, upon the head
waters of the Allegany, near what is now called
Clean Point. On their arrival the chief, their con
ductor, who was distinguished by the name of Big-
White-Man, led his prisoners to the principal lodge.
This was occupied by his mother, the widow of the

NO. 57] ^4 Little Captive 175

head-chief of that band, who was called by them the
Old Queen.

On entering her presence, her son presented her
the little girl, saying :

"My mother — I bring you a child to supply the
place of my brother, who was killed by the Lenape
six moons ago. She shall dwell in my lodge, and be
to me a sister. Treat her kindly — our father will
give us many horses and guns to buy her back
again."

The Old Queen fulfilled the injunctions of her son.
She received the prisoners, and every comfort was
provided them that her simple and primitive mode of
life rendered possible.

A treaty was immediately entered into for the ran
som of the captives, which was easily accomplished
in regard to the younger child. But no offers, no
entreaties, no promises, could procure the release of
the little Eleanor, the adopted child of the tribe.
" No," the chief said, " she was his sister ; he had
taken her to supply the place of his brother who was
killed by the enemy — she was dear to him, and he
would not part with her."

Finding every effort unavailing to shake this reso
lution, the father was at length compelled to take his
sorrowful departure with such of his beloved ones as
he had had the good fortune to recover.

Time rolled on, and every year the hope of recover
ing the little captive became more faint. She, in the
meantime, continued to wind herself more and more
closely around the heart of her Indian brother. Noth
ing could exceed the consideration and affection with
which she was treated, not only by himself, but by his
mother, the Old Queen. All their stock of brooches

176 Indians [NO. 57

and wampum was employed in the decoration of her
person. The principal seat and the most delicate
viands were invariably reserved for her, and no
efforts were spared to promote her happiness, and
to render her forgetful of her former home and
kindred.

The only drawback to the happiness of the little
prisoner, aside from her longings after her own dear
home, was the enmity she encountered from the wife
of the Big- White-Man. This woman, from the day of
her arrival at the village, and adoption into the family
as a sister, had conceived for her the greatest ani
mosity, which, at first, she had the prudence to con
ceal from the observation of her husband.

One afternoon, during the temporary absence of
the Old Queen, her daughter-in-law entered the lodge
with a bowl of something she had prepared, and
stooping down to the mat on which the child lay,
said, in an affectionate accent,

" Drink, my sister. I have brought you that which
will drive this fever far from you."

On raising her head tQ reply, the little girl per
ceived a pair of eyes peeping through a crevice in
the lodge, and fixed upon her with a very peculiar
and significant expression. With the quick percep
tion acquired partly from nature, and partly from her
intercourse with this people, she replied faintly,

" Set it down, my sister. When this fit of the fever
has passed, I will drink your medicine."

The squaw, too cautious to use importunity, busied
herself about in the lodge for a short time, then with
drew to another, near at hand. Meantime, the bright
eyes continued peering through the opening, until
they had watched their object fairly out of sight, then

NO. 57] A Little Captive 177

a low voice, the voice of a young friend and play
fellow, spoke,

" Do not drink that, which your brother's wife has
brought you. She hates you, and is only waiting an
opportunity to rid herself of you. I have watched
her all the morning, and have seen her gathering the
most deadly herbs. I knew for whom they were
intended, and came hither to warn you."

"Take the bowl," said the little invalid, "and carry
it to my mother's lodge."

This was accordingly done. The contents of the
bowl were found to consist principally of a decoction
of the root of the May-apple, the most deadly poison
known among the Indians.

It is not in the power of language to describe the
indignation that pervaded the little community when
this discovery was made known. The squaws ran to
and fro, as is their custom when excited, each vying
with the other in heaping invectives upon the culprit.
No further punishment was, however, for the present
inflicted upon her, but the first burst of rage over, she
was treated with silent abhorrence.

The little patient was removed to the lodge of the
Old Queen, and strictly guarded, while her enemy
was left to wander in silence and solitude about the
fields and woods, until the return of her husband
should determine her punishment.

In a few days, the excursion being over, the Big-
White-Man and his party returned to the village.
Contrary to the usual custom of savages, he did not,
in his first transport at learning the attempt on the
life of his little sister, take summary vengeance on
the offender. He contented himself with banishing
her from his lodge, never to return, and condemning

i78

Indians [NO. 57

her to hoe corn in a distant part of the large field or
enclosure which served the whole community for a
garden.

Although she would still show her vindictive dis
position whenever, by chance, the little girl with her
companions wandered into that vicinity by striking
at her with her hoe, or by some other spiteful mani
festation, yet she was either too well watched, or
stood too much in awe of her former husband to
repeat the attempt upon his sister's life.

Four years had now elapsed since the capture of
little Nelly. Her heart was by nature warm and
affectionate, so that the unbounded tenderness of
those she dwelt among had called forth a correspond
ing feeling of affection in her heart. She regarded
the Chief and his mother with love and reverence,
and had so completely learned their language and
customs as almost to have forgotten her own.

So identified had she become with the tribe, that
the remembrance of her home and family had nearly
faded from her memory; all but her mother — her
mother whom she had loved with a strength of affec
tion natural to her warm and ardent character, and
to whom her heart still clung with a fondness that
no time or change could destroy.

The peace of 1783 between Great Britain and the
United States now took place. A general pacifica
tion of the Indian tribes was the consequence, and
fresh hopes were renewed in the bosoms of Mr. and
Mrs. Lytle.

They removed with their family to Fort Niagara,

NO. 57] A Little Captive 179

near which, on the American side, was the great
Council Fire of the Senecas. Col. Johnson readily
undertook a fresh negotiation with the Chief, but in
order to ensure every chance of success, he again pro
ceeded in person to the village of the Big-White-Man.

His visit was most opportune. It was the " Feast
of the Green Corn," when he arrived among them.
Every one appeared in his gala dress. That of the
little adopted child consisted of a petticoat of blue
broadcloth, bordered with gay-colored ribbons ; a sack
or upper garment of black silk, ornamented with
three rows of silver brooches, the centre ones from
the throat to the hem being of large size, and those
from the shoulders down being no larger than a
shilling-piece, and set as closely as possible. Around
her neck were innumerable strings of white and pur
ple wampum, an Indian ornament manufactured from
the inner surface of the mussel-shell. Her hair was
clubbed behind, and loaded with beads of various
colors. Leggings of scarlet cloth, and moccasins of
deer-skin embroidered with porcupine quills, com
pleted her costume.

Col. Johnson was received with all the considera
tion due to his position, and to the long friendship
that had subsisted between him and the tribe. The
Chief was induced to promise that at the Grand
Council soon to be held at Fort Niagara he would
attend, bringing' his little sister with him.

The time at length arrived when, her heart bound
ing with joy, little Nelly was placed on horseback to
accompany her Indian brother to the great Council of
the Senecas. She had promised him that she would
never leave him without his permission, and he relied
confidently on her word thus given.

i 8 o Indians [NO. 5s

The father and mother, attended by all the officers
and ladies, stood upon the grassy bank awaiting their
approach. They had seen at a glance that the little
captive was with them.

The Chief held his darling by the hand until the
river was passed — until the boat touched the bank —
until the child sprang forward into the arms of the
mother from whom she had been so long separated.

When the Chief witnessed that outburst of affection
he could withstand no longer.

" She shall go," said he. " The mother must have
her child again. I will go back alone."

With one silent gesture of farewell he turned and
stepped on board the boat. No arguments or en
treaties could induce him to remain at the council,
but having gained the other side of the Niagara, he
mounted his horse, and with his young men was soon
lost in the depths of the forest.

Little Nelly saw her friend the Chief no more, but
she never forgot him. To the day of her death she
remembered with tenderness and gratitude her brother
the Big- White-Man, and her friends and playfellows
among the Senecas.

58. A Scotchman and an Indian
Joke

BY HECTOR ST. JOHN CREVECCEUR (1782)

A FEW days after it happened the whole family of
Mr. Phillip Rand went to meeting, and left Andrew
to take care of the house. While he was at the door,
attentively reading the Bible, nine Indians just come

NO. 58] Indian Joke i 8 i

from the mountains, suddenly made their appearance,
and, unloaded their packs of furs on the floor of the
piazza. Conceive, if you
can, what was Andrew's
consternation at this ex
traordinary sight ! From
the singular appearance of
these people, the honest
Hebridean took them for
a lawless band come to
rob his master's house.

He therefore, like a faith- A CRILD,S MOCCASINS-
ful guardian, precipitately

withdrew, and shut the doors ; but as most of our
houses are without locks, he was reduced to the
necessity of fixing his knife over the latch, and then
flew up stairs in quest of a broad sword he had brought
from Scotland. The Indians, who were particular
friends of the family, guessed at his suspicions and
fears ; they forcibly lifted the door, and suddenly took
possession of the house, got all the bread and meat
they wanted, and sat themselves down by the fire.

At this instant Andrew, with his broad sword in
his hand, entered the room ; the Indians earnestly
looking at him, and attentively watching his motions.
After a very few reflections, Andrew found that his
weapon was useless, when opposed to nine toma
hawks ; but this did not diminish his anger ; on the
contrary, it grew greater on observing the calm im
pudence with which they were devouring the family
provisions. Unable to resist, he called them names
in broad Scotch, and ordered them to desist and be
gone ; to which the Indians (as they told me after
wards) replied in their equally broad idiom. It must

i 8 2 Indians [NO. 5s

have been a most unintelligible altercation between
this honest Barra man, and nine Indians who did not
much care for anything he could say. At last he
ventured to lay his hands on one of them, in order to
turn him out of the house. Here Andrew's fidelity
got the better of his prudence ; for the Indian, by his
motions, threatened to scalp him, while the rest gave
the warwhoop. This horrid noise so effectually fright
ened poor Andrew, that, unmindful of his courage,
of his broad sword, and his intentions, he rushed out,
left them masters of the house, and disappeared. I
have heard one of the Indians say since, that he never
laughed so heartily in his life.

Andrew at a distance, soon recovered from the
fears which had been inspired by this infernal yell,
and thought of no other remedy than to go to the
meeting-house, which was about two miles distant.
In the eagerness of his honest intentions, with looks
of affright still marked on his countenance, he called
Mr. Rand out, and told him with great vehemence of
style, that nine monsters were come to his house —
some blue, some red, and some black ; that they had
little axes in their hands out of which they smoked ;
and that like highlanders, they had no breeches ; that
they were devouring all his victuals, and that God
only knew what they would do more. " Pacify your
self," said Mr. Rand, "my house is as safe with these
people, as if I was there myself ; as for the victuals,
they are heartily welcome, honest Andrew ; they are
not people of much ceremony ; they help themselves
thus whenever they are among their friends ; I do
so too in their wigwams, whenever I go to their
village : you had better therefore step in and hear
the remainder of the sermon, and when the meet-

NO. 59] Puc- Puggy 183

ing is over we will all go back in the wagon
together."

At their return, Mr. Rand, who speaks the Indian
language very well, explained the whole matter ; the
Indians renewed their laugh, and shook hands with
honest Andrew, whom they made to smoke out of their
pipes ; and thus peace was made, and ratified accord
ing to the Indian custom, by the calumet.

59. Puc-Puggy and the Rattle
snake

BY WILLIAM BARTRAM (1791)

I WAS in the forenoon busy in my apartment in the
council-house, drawing some curious flowers ; when,
on a sudden, my attention was taken off by a tumult
without, at the Indian camp. I stepped to the door
opening to the piazza, where I met my friend the old
interpreter, who informed me that there was a very
large rattlesnake in the Indian camp, which had taken
possession of it, having driven the men, women and
children out, and he heard them saying that they
would send for Puc-Puggy (for that was the name
which they had given me, signifying " the Flower
Hunter ") to kill him or take him out of their camp.
I answered that I desired to have nothing to do with
him, fearing some disagreeable consequences. My
old friend turned about to carry my answer to the
Indians. I presently heard them approaching and
calling for Puc-Puggy. Starting up to escape from their
sight by a back door, a party consisting of three young

184 Indians [NO. 59

fellows, richly dressed and ornamented, stepped in,
and requested me to accompany them to their en
campment. I desired them to excuse me at this
time ; they pleaded and entreated me to go with
them, in order to free them from a great rattlesnake
which had entered their camp. They said that none
of them had freedom or courage to expel him ; and
they understood that it was my pleasure to collect all
their animals and other natural productions of their
land. Therefore they desired that I would come with
them and take him away ; I was welcome to him,
they added. I at length consented and attended
them to their encampment, where I beheld the
Indians greatly disturbed.

The men with sticks and tomahawks, and the
women and children were collected together at a
distance in fright and trepidation, while the dreaded
and revered serpent leisurely traversed their camp,
visiting the fireplaces from one to another, picking
up fragments of their provisions and licking their
platters. The men gathered around me, exciting me
to remove him ; being armed with a lightwood knot,
I approached the reptile, who instantly collected him
self in a vast coil (their attitude of defence). I cast
my missile weapon at him, which, luckily taking his
head, despatched him instantly, and laid him trem
bling at my feet. I took out my knife, severed his
head from his body. Then I turned about, and the
Indians complimented me with every demonstration
of satisfaction and approbation for my heroism and
friendship for them. I carried off the head of the
serpent bleeding in my hand as a trophy of victory,
took out the mortal fangs, and deposited them care
fully amongst my collections.

NO. 59] Puc-Puggy 185

I had not been long retired to my apartment, be
fore I was again roused from it by a tumult in the
yard. Puc-Puggy was called on, so I started up, when
instantly the old interpreter met me again, and told
me the Indians were approaching in order to scratch
me. I asked him for what ? He answered, for kill
ing the rattlesnake within their camp. Before I could
make any reply or effect my escape, three young fel
lows singing, arm in arm, came up to me. I observed
one of the three was a young prince who had, on my
first interview with him, declared himself my friend
and protector, and told me that if ever occasion should
offer in his presence, he would risk his life to defend
mine or my property. This young champion stood
by his two associates, one on each side of him. They
affected a countenance and air of displeasure and im
portance, instantly presented their scratching instru
ments, and flourishing them, spoke boldly, and said that
I was too heroic and violent, that it would be good for
me to lose some of my blood to make me more mild
and tame ; for that purpose they were come to scratch
me. They gave me no time to expostulate or reply,
but attempted to lay hold on me. I resisted; and
my friend, the young prince, interposed and pushed
them off, saying that I was a brave warrior and his
friend and they should not insult me, whereupon
instantly they altered their countenance and behavior.
They all whooped in chorus, took me by the hand,
clapped me on the shoulder, and laid their hands on
their breasts in token of sincere friendship, and laugh
ing aloud, said I was a sincere friend to the Seminoles,
a worthy and brave warrior, and that no one should
hereafter attempt to injure me. Then all three joined
arm in arm again and went off shouting and pro-

i 8 6 Indians [NO. 59

claiming Puc-Puggy was their friend. Thus it seemed
that the whole was a ludicrous farce to satisfy their
people and appease the manes of the dead rattlesnake.
These people never kill the rattlesnake or any other
serpent, because if they do so, as they believe, the
spirit of the killed snake will excite or influence his
living kindred or relatives to revenge the injury or
violence done to him when alive.

In my youth, attending my father on a journey to
the Catskill Mountains, in New York, I had gained
the summit of a steep rocky precipice, ahead of our
guide, and was just entering a shady vale, when I saw
at the root of a small shrub, a singular and beautiful
appearance, which I remember to be a large kind of
fungus called Jews' ears. I was just drawing back
my foot to kick it over, when at the instant, my father
being near, cried out, " A rattlesnake, my son ! " and
jerked me back, which probably saved my life. I
had never before seen one. This was of the kind
which our guide called a yellow one ; it was very
beautiful, speckled and clouded. My father pleaded
for his life, but our guide was inexorable, saying he
never spared the life of a rattlesnake, and killed him ;
my father took his skin and fangs.

Some years after this, when again in company with
my father on a journey into East Florida, I attended
him on a botanical excursion. Some time after we
had been rambling in a swamp about a quarter of a
mile from the camp, I was ahead a few paces, and
my father bade me observe the rattlesnake before my
feet. I stopped and saw the monster formed in a
high spiral coil, not half his length from my feet :
another step forward would have put my life in his
power, as I must have touched if not stumbled over

NO. 60] Escape from Indians 187

him. I instantly cut off a little sapling and soon
despatched him : this serpent was about six feet in
length, and as think as an ordinary man's leg. I cut
off a long tough withe or vine, fastened it round the
neck of the slain serpent, and dragged him after me,
his scaly body sounding over the ground, entered the
camp with him in triumph, and was soon surrounded
by the amazed multitude, both Indians and my coun
trymen. The adventure soon reached the ears of
the commander, who sent an officer to request that,
if the snake had not bit himself, he might have him
served up for his dinner. I readily delivered up the
body of the snake to the cooks, and being that day
invited to dine at the governor's table, saw the snake
served up in several dishes ; Governor Grant was
fond of the flesh of the rattlesnake. I tasted of it
but could not swallow it. This dreaded animal is
easily killed ; a stick no thicker than a man's thumb
is sufficient to kill the largest at one stroke, if well
directed, either on the head or across the back. They
cannot make their escape by running off, nor indeed
do they attempt it when attacked.

60. Hewit's Escape from the
Indians

BY HENRY HOWE (1792)

SOMETIME in the month of May, 1792, while living
at Neil's station, on the little Kenawha, Mr. Hewit
rose early in the morning, and went out about a mile
from the garrison in search of a stray horse, little

i88

IndL

lans

[No. 60

expecting any Indians to be near, for he had heard
of none in that vicinity for some time. He was
sauntering along at his ease, in an obscure cattle
path, thinking more of his stray animal than of
danger, when all at once three Indians sprang from
behind two large trees, that stood one on each side
of the track, where they had been watching his

INDIAN PLAYING CARDS.

approach. So sudden was the onset, and so com
pletely was he in their grasp, that resistance was
vain, and would probably have been the cause of
his death. He therefore quietly surrendered, think
ing that in a few days he should find some way of
escape. For himself, he felt but little uneasiness ;
his great concern was for his wife and child, from
whom, with the yearnings of a father's heart, he

NO. 60] Escape from Indians 189

was thus forcibly separated, and whom he might
never see again.

In their progress to the towns on the Sandusky
plains, the Indians treated their prisoner, Hewit,
with as little harshness as could be expected. He
was always confined at night by fastening his wrists
and ankles to saplings, as he lay extended upon his
back upon the ground, with an Indian on each side.
By day his limbs were free, but he always marched
with one Indian before, and two behind him. As
they approached the prairies, frequent halts were
made to search for honey, for the wild bee could
be found in astonishing numbers in every hollow
tree, and often in the ground beneath decayed roots.
This afforded them many luscious repasts, of which
the prisoner was allowed to partake. The coming
of the European honey bee to the forests of North
America, since its colonization by the whites, is, in
fact, the only real addition to its comforts that the
red man has ever received from the destroyer of
his race ; and this industrious insect, so fond of
the society of man, seems also destined to destruc
tion by the bee moth, and like the buffalo and the
deer, will soon vanish from the woods and the
prairies of the West.

While the Indians were occupied in these searches,
Hewit closely watched an opportunity for escape, but
his captors were equally vigilant. As they receded
from the danger of pursuit, they were less hurried in
their march, and often stopped to hunt and amuse
themselves. The level prairie afforded fine ground
for one of their favorite sports, the foot race. In this,
Hewit was invited to join, and soon found that he
could easily outrun two of them, but the other was

i go Indians [NO. 60

more than his match, which discouraged him from
trying to escape, until a more favorable opportunity.
They treated him familiarly, and were much pleased
with his lively, cheerful manners. After they had
come within one or two day's march of their village,
they made a halt to hunt, and although they had
usually taken him with them, they left their prisoner
at their camp, as he complained of being sick. To
make all safe, they placed him on his back, and fast
ened his wrists with stout thongs of raw-hide to
saplings, and tied his legs to a small tree. After
they had been gone a short time, he began to put
in operation the plan he had been meditating for
escape, trusting that the thickness of his wrists, in
comparison with the smallness of his hands, would
enable him to withdraw them from the ligatures.
After long and violent exertions, he succeeded in
liberating his hands, but not without severely lacer
ating the skin and covering them with blood. His
legs were next freed by untying them, but not with
out a great effort.

Once fairly at liberty, the first object was to secure
some food for the long journey which was before
him. As the Indian's larder is seldom well stocked,
with all his search he could only find two small pieces
of jerked venison, not more than sufficient for a single
meal. With this light stock of provision, his body
nearly unclothed, and without even a knife or a toma
hawk, to assist in procuring more food, he started for
the settlements on the Muskingum, as the nearest
point where he could meet with friends. It seems
that the Indians returned to the camp soon after his
escape, for that night, while cautiously traversing a
wood, he heard the crackling of a breaking twig not

NO. 6oj Escape from Indians i g i

far from him. Dropping silently on to the ground
where he stood, he beheld his three enemies in pur
suit. To say that he was not agitated, would not be
true ; his senses were wide awake, and his heart beat
quick, but it was a heart that never knew fear. It so
happened that they passed a few yards to one side of
him, and he remained unseen. As soon as they were
at a sufficient distance, he altered his course, and saw
no more of them.

Suffering everything but death from the exhaust
ing effects of hunger and fatigue, after nine days he
struck the waters of the Big Muskingum, and came
into the garrison at Wolf Creek Mills. During this
time he had no food but roots and the bark of the
slippery-elm after the two bits of venison were ex
pended. When he came in sight of the station, he
was so completely exhausted that he could not stand
or halloo. Torn, bloody and disfigured, by the briers
and brush, he thought it imprudent to show himself,
lest he should be taken for an Indian, and shot by
the sentries. In this forlorn state Hewit remained
until evening, when he crawled silently to the gate
way, which was open, and crept in before any one
was aware of his being near. As they all had heard
of his capture, and some personally knew him, he
was instantly recognized by a young man, as the
light of the fire fell on his face, who exclaimed,
" Here is Hewit." They soon clothed and fed him,
and his fine constitution directly restored his health.

i g 2 Indians [NO. ei

6 1. The Indian and the Tide

BY ISAAC WELD (1796)

THE young Wyandot, whom I before mentioned,
as having made such a wonderful day's journey on
foot, happened to be at Philadelphia when I was
there. He appeared highly delighted with the
river, and the great number of ships of all sizes upon
it ; but the tide attracted his attention more than any
thing else whatsoever. On coming to the river the
first day he looked up at the sun, and made certain
observations upon the course of the stream, and gen
eral situation of the place, as the Indians never fail
to do on coming to any new or remarkable spot.
The second time, however, he went down to the
water, he found to his surprise that the river was
running with equal rapidity in a contrary direction to
what he had seen it run the day before. For a mo
ment he imagined that by some mistake he must have
got to the opposite side of it ; but he soon recol
lected himself, and being persuaded that he stood on
the very same spot from whence he had viewed it the
day before, his astonishment became great indeed.

To obtain information upon such an interesting
point, he immediately sought out an aid-de-camp of
General Wayne, who had brought him to town. This
gentleman, however, only rendered the appearance
still more mysterious to him, by telling him, that
the great spirit, for the convenience of the white men,
who were his particular favourites, had made the
rivers in their country to run two ways. The poor
Wyandot was satisfied with the answer, and replied,
" Ah, my friend, if the great spirit would make the

NO. 62] TecumseKs Speech 193

Ohio to run two ways for us, we should very often
pay you a visit at Pittsburgh." During his stay at
Philadelphia he never failed to visit the river every
day.

62. Speech of Tecumseh

BY TECUMSEH (1813)

FATHER,
Listen to
your chil
dren ! — You
have them
now all be
fore you. In
the war be
fore this, our
British father
gave the
hatchet to his
red children,
when our old
chiefs were
alive. They
are now dead.
In that war,
our father
was thrown
on his back
by the Ameri
cans, and our

father took them by the hand without our knowledge ;

and we are afraid that our father will do so again at

AN INDIAN CHIEF.
(RED JACKET.)

194 Indians [NO. e2

this time. Summer before last, when I came forward
with my red brethren, and was ready to take up the
hatchet in favour of our British father, we were told
not to be in a hurry — that he had not yet determined
to fight the Americans.

Listen ! — When war was declared, our father
stood up and gave us the tomahawk, and told us that
he was now ready to strike the Americans : that he
wanted our assistance; and that he would certainly
get us our lands back which the Americans had taken
from us.

Listen ! — You told us that time, to bring forward
our families to this place ; and we did so, and you
promised to take care of them, and that they should
want for nothing, while the men would go and fight
the enemy ; that we need not trouble ourselves about
the enemy's garrisons ; that we knew nothing about
them ; and that our father would attend to that part
of the business. You also told your red children that
you would take good care of their garrison here, which
made their hearts glad.

Listen ! — When we went last to the Rapids, it is
true we gave you assistance. It is hard to fight
people who live like ground hogs.

Listen Father ! — Our fleet has gone out — we
know they have fought — we have heard the great
guns, but know nothing of what has happened to our
father with one arm. Our troops have gone one way,
and we are very much astonished to see our father
tying up every thing and preparing to run away the
other, without letting his red children know what his
intentions are. You always told us to remain here,
and take care of our lands ; it made our hearts glad
to hear that was your wish. Our great father, the

NO. 62] Tecumse/is Speech 195

king, is the head, and you represent him. You
always told us, that you would never draw your foot
off British ground ; but now, father, we see you are
drawing back, and we are sorry to see our father do
ing so, without seeing the enemy. We must compare
our father's conduct to a fat animal, that carries its
tail upon its back, but when affrighted, it drops it
between its legs, and runs off.

Listen Father ! — The Americans have not yet
defeated us by land ; neither are we sure that they
have done so by water : we therefore wish to remain
here, and fight our enemy, should they make their
appearance. If they defeat us, we will then retreat
with our father.

At the battle of the Rapids, in the last war, the
Americans certainly defeated us ; and when we re
treated to our father's fort, at that place, the gates
were shut against us. We were afraid that it would
now be the case, but instead of that, we see our Brit
ish father preparing to march out of his garrison.

Father ! — You have got the arms and ammunition
which the great father sent for his red children. If
you have any idea of going away, give them to us
and you may go and welcome for us. Our lives are
in the hands of the Great Spirit — we are determined
to defend our lands, and if it is his will, we wish to
leave our bones upon them.

i 9 6 Indians [NO. 63

63. How Indians Write

BY JOHN HECKEWELDER (1818)

THE Indians do not possess our art of writing ; they
have no alphabets, nor any mode of representing to
the eye the sounds of words spoken, yet they have
certain hieroglyphics, by which they describe facts
in so plain a manner, that those who are familiar
with those marks can understand them with the great
est ease, as easily, indeed, as we can understand a
piece of writing. For instance, on a piece of bark,
or on a large tree with the bark taken off for the
purpose, by the side of a path, they can and do give
every necessary information to those who come by
the same way ; they will in that manner let them
know, that they were a war party of so many men,
from such a place, of such a nation and such a tribe ;
how many of each tribe were in the party ; to which
tribe the chief or captain belonged ; in what direction
they proceeded to meet the enemy ; how many days
they were out and how many returning ; what num
ber of the enemy they had killed, how many prisoners
they had brought ; how many scalps they had taken ;
whether they had lost any of their party, and how
many; what enemies they had met with, and how
many they consisted of ; of what nation or tribe their
captain was ; all which, at a single glance, is perfectly
well understood by them. In the same manner they
describe a chase : all Indian nations can do this,
although they have not all the same marks ; yet I
have seen the Delawares read with ease the drawings
of the Chippeways, Mingoes, Shawanos, and Wyan-
dots, on similar subjects.

NO. 63j Writings 197

While Indians are travelling to the place of their
destination, whether it be on a journey to their distant
hunting grounds or on a war excursion, some of the
young men are sent out to hunt by the way, who,
when they have killed a deer, bear, or other animal,
bring it to the path, ready to be taken away by those
who are coming along (often with horses) to the
place of encampment, when they all meet at night.
Having hung up the meat by the side of the path,
these young men make a kind of sun-dial, in order
to inform those who are coming of the time of day
it was at the time of their arrival and departure. A
clear place in the path is sought for, and if not
readily found, one is made by the side of it, and a
circle or ring being drawn on the sand or earth, a
stick of about two or three feet in length is fixed in
the centre, with its upper end bent towards that spot
in the horizon where the sun stood at the time of
their arrival or departure. If both are to be noted
down, two separate sticks are set ; but generally one
is sufficient, namely, for the time of departure.

Hunters have particular marks, which they make
on the trees, where they strike off from the path to
their hunting grounds or place of encampment, which
is often at the distance of many miles ; yet the women,
who come from their towns to fetch meat from these
camps, will as readily find them as if they were con
ducted to the spot.

I shall conclude this chapter with an anecdote,
which will at once show how expressive and energetic
is this hieroglyphic writing of the Indians. A white
man in the Indian country, saw a Shawanos riding
a horse which he recognised for his own, and claimed
it from him as his property. The Indian calmly

i 9 8 Indians [NO. 64

answered, " Friend ! after a little while, I will call
on you at your house, when we shall talk of this
matter." A few days afterwards, the Indian came
to the white man's house, who insisting on having
his horse restored, the other then told him : " Friend !
the horse which you claim belonged to my uncle who
lately died ; according to the Indian custom, I have
become heir to all his property." The white man
not being satisfied, and renewing his demand, the
Indian immediately took a coal from the fire-place,
and made two striking figures on the door of the
house, the one representing the white man taking
the horse, and the other, himself, in the act of scalp
ing him ; then he coolly asked the trembling claimant
" whether he could read this Indian writing ? " The
matter thus was settled at once, and the Indian rode
off.

64. How the Indians talk to the
Animals

BY JOHN HECKEWELDER (1818)

I FOUND that the Indians paid great respect to the
rattle-snake, whom they called their grandfather, and
would on no account destroy him. One day, as I
was walking with an elderly Indian on the banks of
the Muskingum, I saw a large rattle-snake lying
across the path, which I was going to kill. The
Indian immediately forbade my doing so ; " for,"
said he, "the rattle-snake is grandfather to the
Indians, and is placed here on purpose to guard us,
and to give us notice of impending danger by his

NO. 64j Talk to Animals

rattle, which is the same as if he were to tell us,
'look about!' Now," added he, "if he were to kill
one of those, the others would soon know it, and the
whole race would rise upon us and bite us." I ob
served to him that the white people were not afraid
of this ; for they killed all the rattle-snakes that they
met with. On this he enquired whether any white
man had been bitten by these animals, and of course,
I answered in the affirmative. " No wonder, then ! "
replied he, " you have to blame yourselves for that !
you did as much as declaring war against them, and
you will find them in your country, where they will
not fail to make frequent incursions. They are a
very dangerous enemy ; take care you do not irritate
them in our country ; they and their grandchildren
are on good terms, and neither will hurt the other."

These ancient notions have, however, in a great
measure died away with the last generation, and the
Indians at present kill their grandfather the rattle
snake without ceremony, whenever they meet with
him.

That the Indians, from the earliest times, consid
ered themselves in a manner connected with certain
animals, is evident from various customs still pre
served among them, and from the names of those
animals which they have collectively, as well as in
dividually, assumed. It might, indeed, be supposed
that those animals' names which they have given
to their several tribes were mere badges of distinction,
but if we pay attention to the reasons which they
give for those denominations, the idea of a supposed
family connexion is easily discernible. The Tortoise,
or as it is commonly called, the Turtle tribe, among
the Lenapes, claims a superiority and ascendency over

2OO Indians [NO. 64

the others, because their relation, the great Tortoise,
a fabled monster, the Atlas of their mythology, bears
according to their traditions this great island on his
back, and also because he is amphibious, and can live
both on land and in the water, which neither of the
heads of the other tribes can do. The merits of the
Turkey, which gives its name to the second tribe,
are that he is stationary, and always remains with
or about them. As to the Wolf, after whom the
third tribe is named, he is a rambler, by nature, run
ning from one place to another in quest of his prey ;
yet they consider him as their benefactor, as it was
by his means that the Indians got out of the interior
of the earth. It was he, they believe, who by the
appointment of the Great Spirit, killed the deer whom
the Monsey found, who first discovered the way to
the surface of the earth, and which allured them
to come out of their damp and dark residence. For
that reason, the wolf is to be honoured, and his name
preserved forever among them. Such are their
traditions, as they were related to me by an old man
of this tribe more than fifty years ago.

These animals' names, it is true, they all use as
national badges, in order to distinguish their tribes
from each other at home and abroad. The Turtle
warrior draws either with a coal or paint here and
there on the trees along the war path, the whole
animal carrying a gun with the muzzle projecting
forward, and if he leaves a mark at the place where
he has made a stroke on his enemy, it will be the
picture of a tortoise. Those of the Turkey tribe
paint only one foot of a turkey, and the Wolf tribe,
sometimes a wolf at large with one leg and foot
raised up to serve as a hand, in which the animal

NO. 64] Talk to Animals 201

also carries a gun with the muzzle forward. They,
however, do not generally use the word " wolf," when
speaking of their tribe, but call themselves Pauk-sit
which means round-foot, that animal having a round
foot like a dog.

The Indians, in their hours of leisure, paint their
different marks or badges on the doors of their
respective houses, that those who pass by may know
to which tribe the inhabitants belong. Those marks
also serve them for signatures to treaties and other
documents. They are as proud of their origin from
the tortoise, the turkey, and the wolf, as the nobles
of Europe are of their descent from the feudal barons
of ancient times, and when children spring from
intermarriages between different tribes, their geneal
ogy is carefully preserved by tradition in the family,
that they may know to which tribe they belong.

I have often reflected on the curious connection
which appears to exist in the mind of an Indian
between man and the brute creation, and found
much matter in it for curious observation. Although
they consider themselves superior to all other animals
and are very proud of that superiority ; although
they believe that the beasts of the forest, the birds
of the air, and the fishes of the waters, were created
by the Almighty Being for the use of man ; yet it
seems as if they ascribe the difference between them
selves and the brute kind, and the dominion which
they have over them, more to their superior bodily
strength and dexterity than to their immortal souls.

I have already observed that the Indian includes
all savage beasts within the number of his enemies.
This is by no means a metaphorical or figurative
expression, but is used in a literal sense, as will

2 o 2 Indians [NO. 64

appear from what I am going to relate. A Delaware
hunter once shot a huge bear and broke its back
bone. The animal fell and set up a most plaintive
cry, something like that of the panther when he is
hungry. The hunter, instead of giving him another
shot, stood up close to him, and addressed him in
these words : " Hark ye ! bear ; you are a coward,
and no warrior as you pretend to be. Were you a
warrior, you would show it by your firmness and not
cry and whimper like an old woman. You know,
bear, that our tribes are at war with each other, and
that yours was the aggressor. You have found the
Indians too powerful for you, and you have gone
sneaking about in the woods, stealing their hogs ;
perhaps at this time you have hog's flesh in your
inside. Had you conquered me, I would have borne
it with courage and died like a brave warrior ; but
you, bear, sit here and cry, and disgrace your tribe
by your cowardly conduct." I was present at the
delivery of this curious invective ; when the hunter
had despatched the bear, I asked him how he thought
that poor animal could understand what he said to it ?
" Oh ! " said he, in answer, " the bear understood me
very well ; did you not observe how ashamed he
looked while I was upbraiding him?"

Another time I witnessed a similar scene between
the falls of the Ohio and the river Wabash. A
young white man, named William Wells, who had
been when a boy taken prisoner by a tribe of the
Wabash Indians, by whom he was brought up, and
had imbibed all their notions, had so wounded a large
bear that he could not move from the spot, and the
animal cried piteously like the one I have just men
tioned. The young man went up to him, and with

No.65] The White Man 203

seemingly great earnestness, addressed him in the
Wabash language, now and then giving him a slight
stroke on the nose with his ram-rod. I asked him,
when he had done, what he had been saying to this
bear? " I have," said he, " upbraided him for acting
the part of a coward ; I told him that he knew the
fortune of war, that one or the other of us must
have fallen ; that it was his fate to be conquered, and
he ought to die like a man, like a hero, and not like
an old woman ; that if the case had been reversed,
and I had fallen into the power of my enemy, I
would not have disgraced my 'nation as he did, but
would have died with firmness and courage, as be
comes a true warrior."

65. An Indian Opinion of the
White Man

BY JOHN HECKEWELDER (1818)

THEY sometimes amuse themselves by passing in
review those customs of the white people which ap
pear to them most striking. They observe, amongst
other things, that when the whites meet together,
many of them, and sometimes all, speak at the same
time, and they wonder how they can thus hear and
understand each other. "Among us," they say,
" only one person speaks at a time, and the others
listen to him until he has done, after which, and not
before, another begins to speak." They say also that
the whites speak too much, and that much talk dis
graces a man and is fit only for women. On this

2 o 4 Indians [NO. 65

subject they shrewdly observe, that it is well for the
whites that they have the art of writing, and can
write down their words and speeches ; for had they,
like themselves, to transmit them to posterity by
means of strings and belts of wampum, they would
want for their own use all the wampum that could be
made, and none would be left for the Indians.

They wonder that the white people are striving so
much to get rich, and to heap up treasures in this
world which they cannot carry with them to the next.
They ascribe this to pride and to the desire of being
called rich and great. They say that there is enough
in this world to live upon, without laying anything
by, and as to the next world, it contains plenty of
everything, and they will find all their wants satisfied
when they arrive there. They, therefore, do not lay
up any stores, but merely take with them when they
die as much as is necessary for their journey to the
world of spirits.

The Indians also observe, that the white people
must have a great many thieves among them, since
they put locks to their doors, which shows great ap
prehension that their property otherwise would not
be safe : "As to us," say they, "we entertain no such
fears ; thieves are very rare among us, and we have
no instance of any person breaking into a house.
Our Indian lock is, when we go out, to set the corn
pounder or billet of wood against the door, so that it
may be seen that nobody is within, and there is no
danger that any Indian would presume to enter a
house thus secured." Let me be permitted to illus
trate this by an anecdote.

In the year 1771, while I was residing on the Big
Beaver, I passed by the door of an Indian, who was

NO. 65] The White Man 205

a trader, and had consequently a quantity of goods in
his house. He was going with his wife to Pittsburg,
and they were shutting up the house, as no person
remained in it during their absence. This shutting
up was nothing else than putting a large hominy
pounding-block, with a few sticks of wood outside
against the door, so as to keep it closed. As I was
looking at this man with attention while he was so
employed, he addressed me in these words : " See, my
friend, this is an Indian lock that I am putting to my
door." I answered, " Well enough ; but I see you
leave much property in the house, are you not afraid
that those articles will be stolen while you are gone ? "
-" Stolen! by whom?" -"Why, by Indians, to be
sure."- — " No, no," replied he, "no Indian would do
such a thing, and unless a white man or white people
should happen to come this way, I shall find all safe
on my return."

The Indians say, that when the white people en
camp in the woods they are sure to lose something ;
that when they are gone, something or another is
always found which they have lost, such as a knife,
flints, bullets, and sometimes even money. They
also observe that the whites are not so attentive as
they are to choosing an open dry spot for their
encampment ; that they will at once set themselves
down in any dirty and wet place, provided they are
under large trees ; that they never look about to see
which way the wind blows, so as to be able to lay the
wood for their fires in such a position that the smoke
may not blow on them ; neither do they look up the
trees to see whether there are not dead limbs that may
fall on them while they are asleep ; that any wood will
do for them to lay on their fires, whether it be dry or

206 Indians [NO. 65

wet, and half rotten, so that they are involved during
the whole night in a cloud of smoke ; or they take
such wood as young green oak, walnut, cherry, chest
nut, etc., which throws sparks out to a great distance,
so that their blankets and clothes get holes burned in
them, and sometimes their whole camp takes fire.
They also remark that the whites hang their kettles
and pots over a fire just kindled, and before the great
body of smoke has passed away.

They, however, acknowledge that the whites are
ingenious, that they make axes, guns, knives, hoes,
shovels, pots and kettles, blankets, shirts, and other
very convenient articles, to which they have now be
come accustomed, and which they can no longer do
without. " Yet," say they, " our forefathers did with
out all these things, and we have never heard, nor
has any tradition informed us that they were at a loss
for the want of them ; therefore we must conclude
that they also were ingenious ; and, indeed, we know
that they were ; for they made axes of stone to cut
with, and bows and arrows to kill the game : they
made knives and arrows' points with sharp flint stones
and bones, hoes and shovels from the shoulder blade
of the elk and buff aloe ; they made pots of clay, gar
ments of skins, and ornaments with the feathers of
the turkey, goose and other birds. They were not
in want of anything, the game was plenty and tame,
the dart shot from our arrows did not frighten them
as the report of the gun now does ; we had therefore
everything that we could reasonably require ; we lived
happy ! "

NO. 66] A Chief's Precept 207

66. The Memorable Precept of
an Indian Chief

BY JOHN TRUMBULL (1841)

AT the age of nine or ten a circumstance occurred
which deserves to be written on adamant. In the
wars of New England with the aborigines, the Mo-
hegan tribe of Indians early became friends of the
English. Their favorite ground was on the banks of
the river (now the Thames) between New London
and Norwich. A small remnant of the Mohegans
still exists, and they are sacredly protected in the
possession and enjoyment of their favorite domain on
the banks of the Thames. The government of this
tribe had become hereditary in the family of the cele
brated chief Uncas. During the time of my father's
mercantile prosperity, he had employed several In
dians of this tribe in hunting animals, whose skins
were valuable for their fur.

Among these hunters was one named Zachary, of
the royal race, an excellent hunter, but as drunken
and worthless an Indian as ever lived. When he had
somewhat passed the age of fifty, several members of
the royal family who stood between Zachary and the
throne of his tribe died, and he found himself with
only one life between him and empire. In this
moment his better genius resumed its sway, and he
reflected seriously, " How can such a drunken wretch
as I am, aspire to be the chief of this honorable race
— what will my people say — and how will the shades
of my noble ancestors look down indignant upon such
a base successor ? Can /succeed to the great Uncas ?

2 o 8 Indians [NO. 66

I will drink no more ! " He solemnly resolved never
again to taste any drink but water, and he kept his
resolution.

I had heard this story, and did not entirely believe
it ; for young as I was, I already partook in the pre
vailing contempt for Indians. In the beginning of
May, the annual election of the principal officers of
the then colony was held at Hartford, the capital :
my father attended officially, and it was customary
for the chief of the Mohegans also to attend. Zach-
ary had succeeded to the rule of his tribe. My
father's house was situated about midway on the road
between Mohegan and Hartford, and the old chief
was in the habit of coming a few days before the
election, and dining with his brother governor.

One day the mischievous thought struck me to try
the sincerity of the old man's temperance. The
family was seated at dinner, and there was excellent
home-brewed beer on the table. I addressed the old
chief — "Zachary, this beer is excellent; will you
taste it?" The old man dropped his knife and fork
— leaned forward with a stern intensity of expression;
his black eye sparkling with indignation was fixed on
me. "John," said he, "you do not know what you
are doing. You are serving the devil, boy ! Do you
know that I am an Indian ! I tell you that I am, and
that if I should taste your beer, I could never stop
until I got to rum, and become again the drunken,
contemptible wretch your father remembers me to
have been. John, while you live, never again tempt
any man to break a good resolution."

Socrates never uttered a more valuable precept —
Demosthenes could not have given it in more solemn
tones of eloquence. I was thunder-struck. My

NO. 67] A Ball Game 209

parents were deeply affected ; they looked at each
other, at me, and at the venerable old Indian, with
deep feelings of awe and respect. They afterwards
frequently reminded me of the scene, and charged me
never to forget it. Zachary lived to pass the age of
eighty, and sacredly kept his resolution. He lies
buried in the royal burial-place of his tribe, near the
beautiful falls of the Yantic, the western branch of
the Thames, in Norwich, on land now owned by my
friend, Calvin Goddard, Esq. I visited the grave of
the old chief lately, and there repeated to myself his
inestimable lesson.

67. An Indian Ball Game

BY W. B. PARKER (1845)

UPON entering upon the prairie, we observed in the
distance a crowd of natives in gay clothing, the brill
iant colours blend
ing with the ver
dure, and making
at sunset a truly
picturesque scene.
Riding up, we wit
nessed a scene
never to be for
gotten. It was
a ball-play. De-

scribed as this AN INDIAN CAM*.

sport has been, by

the able pencil of Catlin, description falls far short of

reality. About six hundred men, women and children,

were assembled, all dressed in holiday costume, and

2 i o Indians [NO. 67

all as intent upon the game as it is possible to be
where both pleasure and interest combine. The in
terest is one tribe against another, or one county of
the same tribe, against a neighboring county ; the
pleasure, that which savages always take in every
manly and athletic sport.

In this instance the contestants were all Choctaws,
practising for their annual game with the Creeks, and
I was struck with the interest taken by all the lookers
on, in the proficiency of each of the players. About
sixty on each side were engaged in this exciting play,
than which no exercise can be more violent nor
better calculated to develop muscle and harden the
frame. Each player provides himself with what are
called ball-sticks. They are in shape like a large
spoon, made of a piece of hickory about three feet
long, shaved thin for about nine inches at the end
forming the spoon, then bent round until brought into
shape, the end securely fastened to the handle by
buckskin thongs, the under side or bottom of the
spoon covered with a coarse net work of the same
material. He has one in each hand, and the ball,
about the size of a large marble, is held between the
spoons and thrown with an overhand rotary motion,
separating the spoons, when the top of the circle is
reached.

The game is this : two poles are set up, each
about seventeen feet high and a foot apart at the
bottom, widening to three feet at top. At the dis
tance of two hundred yards, two similar poles are
set up facing these. To strike the poles, or throw
the ball between them counts one, and twelve is
game. An umpire and starter takes the ball, advances
to a mark equi-distant from each .end of the course,

NO. 67] A Ball Game 211

and throws it vertically into the air ; it is caught, or
falling upon the ground is eagerly struggled for and
thrown toward the desired point. We saw some
throw the ball the whole distance.

At each brace of poles, judges are stationed, who,
armed with pistols, keep close watch, and whenever
a count is made fire their pistols. The ball is then
taken and started anew.

Among the players, are the runners, the throwers,
and those who throw themselves in the way and
baffle the player who succeeds in getting the ball.

The runners are the light active men, the throwers
heavier, and then the fat men, who can neither throw
nor run, stand ready to seize a thrower or upset a
runner.

When a runner gets the ball, he starts at full speed
towards the poles ; if intercepted, he throws the ball
to a friend, a thrower, perhaps, he is knocked down,
then begins the struggle for the ball; a scene of push
ing, jostling, and striking with the ball sticks, or per
haps a wrestle or two, all attended with hard knocks
and harder falls. Whilst looking on, one man was
pitched upon his head and had his collar bone broken ;
another had part of his scalp knocked off, but it was
all taken in good humour, and what, among white
men, would inevitably lead to black eyes and bloody
noses, here ended with the passage or possession of
the ball, a good lesson in forbearance and amiability,
worthy of imitation.

The combatants are stripped entirely naked except
a breech cloth and moccasins, and gaudily painted ;
they fasten at the centre and small of the back, a
horse's tail, gaily painted and arrayed like a tail that
has been nicked by a jockey; some wore bouquets of

212 Indians [NO. 68

flowers instead of the tail, but these were evidently
the exquisites of the party, which the rings worn in
the ears, nose and under lips, and manner of arrang
ing the hair — one having it cut to a point and drawn
down over his right eye, whilst his left eye was painted
green — clearly proved. The grotesque appearance
of the players, the excitement, yells and shouts of the
crowd, old and young, and the gaudy finery displayed,
all combined to make an indelible impression upon
our memories. The aged men of the tribe were the
most noisy and excited. One old fellow, blind of an
eye and seventy years old, was quite wild with ex
citement; shaking his red handkerchief, he continued
to shout, hoo, ka, li — hoo, ka, li — catch, catch,
when the ball was thrown, and chi, ca, ma, — good,
when a count was made, until quite hoarse. Doubt
less, like the old war horse at the sound of the bugle,
he felt all the fire of his youth, as he entered into the
full spirit of this truly and only Indian sport.

68. An Indian Fable

ONE pleasant evening, as Nan-nee-bo-zho walked
along the banks of a lake, he saw a flock of ducks,
sailing and enjoying themselves on the blue waters.
He called to them :

" Ho! come with me into my lodge, and I will teach
you to dance ! " Some of the ducks said among them
selves, " It is Nan-nee-bo-zho, let us not go." Others
were of a contrary opinion, and his words being fair,
and his voice insinuating, a few turned their faces
towards the land. All the rest soon followed, and

NO. 68] A Fable 213

with many pleasant quackings, trooped after him, and
entered his lodge.

When there, he first took an Indian sack, with a
wide mouth, which he tied by the strings around his
neck, so that it would hang over his shoulders, having
the mouth unclosed. Then placing himself in the
centre of the lodge, he ranged the ducks in a circle
around him.

" Now," said he, " you must all shut your eyes tight,
whoever opens his eyes at all, something dreadful will
happen to him. I will take my Indian flute and play
upon it, and you will, at the word I shall give, open
your eyes, and commence dancing, as you see me do."

The ducks obeyed, shutting their eyes tight, and
keeping time to the music by stepping from one foot
to the other, all impatient for the dancing to begin.

Presently a sound was heard like a smothered
" quack," but the ducks did not dare to open their
eyes.

Again, and again, the sound of the flute would be
interrupted, and a gurgling cry of " qu-a-a-ck " be
heard. There was one little duck, much smaller than
the rest, who at this juncture, could not resist the
temptation to open one eye, cautiously. She saw
Nan-nee-bo-zho, as he played his flute, holding it with
one hand, stoop a little at intervals and seize the duck
nearest him, which he throttled and stuffed into the
bag on his shoulders. So, edging a little out of the
circle, and getting nearer the door which had been
left partly open to admit the light, she cried out :

" Open your eyes — Nan-nee-bo-zho is choking you
all and putting you into his bag ! "

With that she flew, but the Nan-nee-bo-zho pounced
upon her. His hand grasped her back, yet, with des-

214 Indians [NO. 69

perate force, she released herself and gained the open
air. Her companions flew, quacking and screaming
after her. Some escaped, and some fell victims to
the sprite.

The little duck had saved her life, but she had lost
her beauty. She ever after retained the attitude she
had been forced into, in her moment of danger — her
back pressed down in the centre, and her head and
neck unnaturally stretched forward into the air.

69. A Great Many Crullers
needed

BY MRS. JULIETTE A. KINZIE (1830)

AT an early hour the next morning I had quite a
levee of the Ho-tshung-rah matrons. They seated
themselves in a circle on the floor, and I was sorry to
observe that the application of a little soap and water
to their blankets had formed no part of their holiday
preparations. There being no one to interpret, I
thought I would begin the conversation in a way in
telligible to themselves, so I brought out of the side
board a china dish, filled with the nice brown crullers,
over which I had grated, according to custom, a goodly
quantity of white sugar. I handed it to the first of
the circle. She took the dish from my hand, and de
liberately pouring all the cakes into the corner of her
blanket, returned it to me empty. " She must be a
most voracious person," thought I, "but I will manage
better the next time." I refilled the dish, and ap
proached the next one, taking care to keep a fast hold

NO. 69] Plenty of Crullers 215

of it as I offered the contents, of which I supposed
she would modestly take one. Not so, however.
She scooped out the whole with her two hands, and,
like the former, bestowed them in her blanket. My
sense of politeness revolted at handing them out one
by one, as we do to children, so I sat down to delib
erate what was to be done, for evidently the supply
would not long answer such an ample demand, and
there would be more visitors anon.

While I was thus perplexed those who had received
the cakes commenced a distribution, and the whole
number was equitably divided among the company.
But I observed they did not eat them. They passed
their fingers over the grated sugar, looked in each
other's faces, and muttered in low tones — there was
evidently something they did not understand. Pres
ently one more adventurous than the rest wet her
fingers, and taking up a few grains of the sugar put
it cautiously to her mouth.

" Tah-nee-zhoo-rah ! (Sugar !) was her delighted
exclamation, and they all broke out into a hearty
laugh ; it is needless to say that the cakes disappeared
with all the celerity they deemed compatible with
good-breeding. Never having seen any sugar but the
brown or yellow maple, they had supposed the white
substance to be salt, and for that reason had hesitated
to taste it.

Their visit was prolonged until Shaw-nee-aw-kee
made his appearance, and then, having been made
happy by their various gifts, they all took their de
parture.

PART VI
AT SEA

70. " A Gallant Ship that flew
the Stars and Stripes '

Tis of a gallant Yankee ship that flew the stripes and This old

Qtarc: song

bldrb' describes the

And the whistling wind from the west-nor'-west blew course of the

through the pitch-pine spars, cap Jn"^'

With her starboard tacks aboard, my boys, she hung j0hn Paul

upon the gale ; Jones, in

On an autumn night we raised the light on the old I77 '
Head of Kinsale.

It was a clear and cloudless night, and the wind blew

steady and strong,
As gayly over the sparkling deep our good ship

bowled along;
With the foaming seas beneath her bow the fiery

waves she spread,
And bending low her bosom of snow, she buried her

lee cat-head.

There was no talk of shortening sail by him who

walked the poop,
And under the press of her pond'ring jib, the boom

bent like a hoop !

217

2 i 8 At Sea [NO. 7o

And the groaning water-ways told the strain that

held her stout main-tack,
But he only laughed as he glanced aloft at a white

and silvery track.

JOHN PAUL JONES.

The mid-tide meets in the channel waves that flow

from shore to shore,
And the mist hung heavy upon the land from

Featherstone to Dunmore
And that sterling light in Tusker Rock where the

old bell tolls each hour,
And the beacon light that shone so bright was

quench'd on Waterford Tower.

NO. 7o] "^ Gallant Ship '' 219

The nightly robes our good ship wore were her three

topsails set
Her spanker and her standing jib — the courses being

fast ;
" Now, lay aloft ! my heroes bold, lose not a moment

yet!"
And royals and top-gallant sails were quickly on each

mast.

What looms upon our starboard bow ? What hangs
upon the breeze ?

'Tis time our good ship hauled her wind abreast the
old Saltee's,

For by her ponderous press of sail and by her con
sorts four

We saw our morning visitor was a British man-of-war.

Up spake our noble Captain then, as a shot ahead of

us past —
" Haul snug your flowing courses ! lay your topsail

to the mast ! "
Those Englishmen gave three loud hurrahs from the

deck of their covered ark,
And we answered back by a solid broadside from the

decks of our patriot bark.

"Out booms! out booms!" our skipper cried, "out

booms and give her sheet,"
And the swiftest keel that was ever launched shot

ahead of the British fleet,
And amidst a thundering shower of shot, with stun'-

sails hoisting away,
Down the North Channel Paul Jones did steer just

at the break of day.

220 At Sea [NO. 7i

71. How to Catch Whales

BY HECTOR ST. JOHN CREVECCEUR (1752)

THE vessels most proper for whale fishing, are brigs
of about one hundred and fifty tons burden ; they al
ways man them with thirteen hands, in order that they
may row two whale boats ; the crews of which must
necessarily consist of six, four at the oars, one stand
ing on the bows with the harpoon, and the other at
the helm. It is also necessary that there should be
two of these boats, that if one should be destroyed in
attacking the whale, the other, which is never engaged
at the same time, may be ready to save the hands.
Five of the thirteen are always Indians ; the last of
the complement remains on board to steer the vessel
during the action. They have no wages ; each draws
a certain established share in partnership with the
proprietor of the vessel ; by which economy they are
all proportionably concerned in the success of the
enterprise, and all equally alert and vigilant. None
of these whale-men ever exceed the age of forty :
they look on those who are passed that period not to
be possessed of all that vigour and agility which so
adventurous a business requires. Indeed if you at
tentively consider the immense disproportion between
the object assailed and the assailants ; if you think
on the diminutive size, and weakness of their frail
vehicle ; if you recollect the treachery of the element
on which this scene is transacted ; the sudden and
unforeseen accidents of winds, you will readily ac
knowledge, that it must require the most consummate
exertion of all the strength, agility, and judgment,

NO. 7i] W r haling 221

of which the bodies and the minds of men are capa
ble, to undertake these adventurous encounters.

As soon as they arrive in those latitudes where
they expect to meet with whales, a man is sent up
to the mast head ; if he sees one, he immediately
cries out await e pawana, here is a whale ; they all
remain still and silent until he repeats pawaiia, a
whale, when in less than six minutes the two boats
are launched, rilled with every implement necessary
for the attack. They row toward the whale with
astonishing velocity ; and as the Indians early became
their fellow labourers in this new warfare, you can
easily conceive, how their expressions became familiar
on board the whale-boats. Formerly it often hap
pened that whale vessels were manned with none but
Indians and the master.

There are various ways of approaching the whale,
according to their peculiar species ; and this previous
knowledge is of the utmost consequence. When
these boats are arrived at a reasonable distance, one
of them rests on its oars and stands off, as a witness
of the approaching engagement ; near the bows of
the other the harpooner stands up, and on him princi
pally depends the success of the enterprise. He
wears a jacket closely buttoned, and round his head
a handkerchief tightly bound : in his hands he holds
the dreadful weapon, made of the best steel, marked
sometimes with the name of their town, and some
times with that of their vessel. To the shaft of this
the end of a cord of due strength, coiled up with the
utmost care in the middle of the boat, is firmly tied ;
the other end is fastened to the bottom of the boat.
Thus prepared they row in profound silence, leaving
the whole conduct of the enterprise to the harpooner

222 At Sea [NO. 7i

and to the steersman, attentively following their direc
tions. When the former judges himself to be near
enough to the whale, that is, at the distance of about
fifteen feet, he bids them stop ; launches it forth -
she is struck: from her first movement they judge of
her temper, as well as of their future success.

Sometimes in the immediate impulse of rage, she
will attack the boat and demolish it with one stroke
of her tail ; in an instant the frail vehicle disappears
and the assailants are immersed in the dreadful ele
ment. At other times she will dive and disappear
from human sight ; and every thing must then give
way to her velocity ; or else all is lost. Sometimes
she will swim away as if untouched, and draw the
cord with such swiftness that it will set the edge of
the boat on fire by the friction. If she rises before
she has run out the whole length, she is looked upon
as a sure prey. The blood she has lost in her flight,
weakens her so much, that if she sinks again, it is
but for a short time; the boat follows her course
with an almost equal speed. She soon re-appears ;
tired out at last she dies, and floats on the surface.

At other times it may happen, that she is not danger
ously wounded, though she carries the harpoon fast
in her body ; when she will alternately dive and rise,
and swim on with unabated vigour. She then soon
reaches beyond the length of the cord, and carries
the boat along with amazing velocity : this sudden
impediment sometimes will retard her speed, at other
times it only serves to rouse her anger, and to accel
erate her progress. The harpooner, with the axe in
his hands, stands ready. When he observes that the
bows of the boat are greatly pulled down by the
diving whale, and that it begins to sink deep and to

No. 71]

W^haling

223

take much water, he brings the axe almost in contact
with the cord ; he pauses, still flattering himself that
she will relax ; but the moment grows critical, una
voidable danger approaches : sometimes men more
intent on gain, than on the preservation of their lives,
will run great risks ; and it is wonderful how far these
people have carried their daring courage at this awful
moment ! But it is vain to hope, their lives must be
saved, the cord is cut, the boat rises again. If after
thus getting loose, she re-appears, they will attack
and wound her a second time. She soon dies, and
when dead she is towed alongside of their vessel,
where she is fastened.

A WHALER'S OUTFIT.

224 ^t ea [N°'72

72. A Sea Voyage

BY ABIGAIL ADAMS (1784)

On board ship Active, Latitude 44, Longitude 34.
Tuesday , 6 July, 1784. From the Ocean.

MY DEAR SISTER,

I HAVE been sixteen days at sea, and have not at
tempted to write a single letter. Tis true, I have
kept a journal whenever I was able ; but that must
be close locked up, unless I was sure to hand it you
with safety.

'Tis said of Cato, the Roman Censor, that one of
the three things, which he regretted during his life,
was going once by sea when he might have made
his journey by land. I fancy the philosopher was
not proof against that most disheartening, dispiriting
malady, sea-sickness. Of this I am very sure, that
no lady would ever wish a second time to try the sea,
were the objects of her pursuit within the reach of a
land journey.

The vessel is very deep loaded with oil and potash.
The oil leaks, the potash smokes and ferments. All
adds to the flavor. When you add to all this the
horrid dirtiness of the ship, the slovenliness of the
steward, and the unavoidable slopping and spilling
occasioned by the tossing of the ship, I am sure you
will be thankful that the pen is not in the hand of
Swift or Smollet, and still more so that you are far
removed from the scene. No sooner was I able to
move, than I found it necessary to make a bustle
amongst the waiters, and demand a cleaner abode.
By this time, Briesler was upon his feet, and, as I
found I might reign mistress on board without any

NO. 72] A Sea Voyage 225

offence, I soon exerted my authority with scrapers,
mops, brushes, infusions of vinegar, &c., and in a few
hours you would have thought yourself in a different
ship. Since which, our abode is much more tolerable,
and the gentlemen all thank me for my care. Our
captain is an admirable seaman, always attentive to
his sails and his rigging ; keeps the deck all night ;
careful of everybody on board ; watchful that they
run no risk ; kind and humane to his men, who are all
as still and quiet as any private family ; nothing cross
or dictatorial in his manners ; a much more agreeable
man than I expected to find him. He cannot be
called a polished gentleman ; but he is, so far as I
have seen, a very clever man.

I have accustomed myself to writing a little every
day, when I was able, so that a small motion of the
ship does not render it more unintelligible than usual ;
but there is no time, since I have been at sea, when
the ship is what we call still, that its motion is not
equal to the moderate rocking of a cradle. As to
wind and weather, since we came out, they have been
very fortunate for us in general. We have had three
calm days, and two days contrary wind, with a storm,
I called it ; but the sailors say it was only a breeze.
This was upon the Banks of Newfoundland, the
wind at east; through the day we could not sit in
our chairs, only as some gentleman sat by us with
his arm fastened into ours, and his feet braced against
a table or chair, that was lashed down with ropes ;
bottle, mugs, plates, crashing to pieces, first on one
side and then on the other ; the sea running moun
tain-high, and knocking against the sides of the ves
sel as though it would burst them. When I became
so fatigued with the incessant motion as not to be
Q

226 At Sea [NO. 72

able to sit any longer, I was assisted into my cabin,
where I was obliged to hold myself in with all my
might the remainder of the night.

Our accommodations on board are not what I could
wish, or hoped for. Our state-rooms are about half
as large as cousin Betsey's little chamber, with two
cabins in each. This place has a small grated win
dow, which opens into the companion-way, and by
this is the only air admitted.

If the wind and weather continue as favorable as
they have hitherto been, we expect to make our pas
sage in thirty days, which is going a hundred miles a

day.

8 July.

A wet, drizzly day, but we must not complain, for
we have a fair wind, our sails all square, and go at
seven knots an hour. I have made a great acquisi
tion. I have learnt the names and places of all the
masts and sails ; and the Captain compliments me by
telling me that he is sure I know well enough how to
steer, to take a turn at the helm. I may do pretty
well in fair weather, but 'tis your masculine spirits
that are made for storms. I love the tranquil scenes
of life.

I went last evening upon deck, at the invitation of
Mr. Foster, to view that phenomenon of Nature, a
blazing ocean. A light flame spreads over the ocean,
in appearance, with thousands of thousands of spar
kling gems, resembling our fire-flies in a dark night.
It has a most beautiful appearance.

10 July.

Yesterday was a very pleasant day. Very little
wind, but a fine sun and a smooth sea. I spent most
of the day upon deck, reading ; it was not, however,

NO. 72] ^4 Sea Voyage 227

so warm but a baize gown was very comfortable.
The ship has gradually become less irksome to me.
If our cook was but tolerably clean, I could relish
my food. But he is a great, dirty, lazy negro, with
no more knowledge of cookery than a savage, nor
any kind of order in the distribution of his dishes ;
but on they come, higgledy-piggledy, with a leg of
pork all bristly ; a quarter of an hour after, a pud
ding ; or, perhaps, a pair of roast fowls, first of all,
and then will follow one by one a piece of beef, and,
when dinner is nearly completed, a plate of potatoes.
Such a fellow is a real imposition upon the passen
gers. But gentlemen know but little about the mat
ter, and, if they can get enough to eat five times a
day, all goes well. We ladies have not eaten, upon
our whole passage, more than just enough to satisfy
nature, or to keep body and soul together.

17 July.

Give me joy, my dear sister; we have sounded
to-day and found bottom, fifty-five fathom. We have
seen, through the course of the day, twenty different
sail, and spoke with a small boat upon a smuggling
expedition, which assured us we were within the

Channel.

1 8 July.

This day four weeks we came on board. Are you
not all calculating to-day that we are near the land ?
Happily, you are not wrong in your conjectures. I
do not despair of seeing it yet before night, though
our wind is very small and light. The captain has
just been down to advise us, as the vessel is so quiet,
to get what things we wish to carry on shore into
our small trunks. He hopes to land us at Ports
mouth, seventy miles distant from London, to-mor-

228 At Sea [NO. 73

row or next day ; from thence we are to proceed, in
post-chaises, to London. The ship may be a week
in the channel before she will be able to get up.

73. The Pleasures of Impressment

BY EBENEZER SMITH THOMAS (1800)

I SAILED from Charleston, (bound to Liverpool, in
the month of June,) in an old worn out ship, called
the Mercury, Captain Waldron. We soon discovered
that our ship leaked very badly ; so much so, that it
took fifteen minutes in every hour to keep her free.
This made very hard duty for the crew, which was
not a very strong one ; for seamen were as scarce as
ships. Fortunately the winds were light and fair —
nothing remarkable occurred until we arrived on the
Banks of Newfoundland, when, on the fourth of July,
the weather was so cold that the only way we could
make ourselves comfortable was by lying in bed. As
is not unusual on the banks, the weather was very
thick — we could not see an hundred yards ahead.

The next morning, just at daylight, the mate,
whose watch it was, rushed into the cabin, exclaim
ing, at the top of his voice, " Captain Waldron, there
is land close on board ! " The Captain was on deck
in a moment, and I, who was the only passenger,
was not long after him. To be close on shore, when
by our reckoning we should be near the middle of the
Atlantic, was enough to alarm the stoutest heart, and
every soul appeared on deck in a minute. It was now
the twilight of dawn, and the only object at all visible,
was a mountain hanging apparently over us — not of

NO. 73] Impressment 229

earth, or of rocks, but very much resembling the latter
— a mountain of ice ; besides which, as the fog cleared
away, we found ourselves surrounded by floating
islands of the same material ; so that it was luff, or
bear away, all day, to keep from running foul of them.
Fortunately for us, before sunset we had them all
astern, with a clear course and fair breeze. Had day
light been one hour later, we should all inevitably
have perished, as the immense mass was directly in
our course, and would have been felt as soon as seen
in the darkness of the night Its altitude was up
wards of two hundred feet.

With our regular " pump music" one-fourth of the
time, night and day, we at length made Cape Clear
in Ireland ; it was in the afternoon, in the latter part
of July. About thirty whales passed us within less
than one hundred feet of our stern. Fifteen or
twenty minutes later, from the situation they were in,
they might have done us much mischief. We entered
the Cape that evening. At the first go off, we lost
our kedge and hawser, after which we had to let go
the best bower, and in this way we were eight days
"tiding it up to Liverpool," from the Cape. On the
sixth day we took a pilot on board.

On the forenoon of the seventh, a ship, whose drum The British
we had heard for three or four nights preceding, made accustomed
her appearance on our weather beam, at about a mile to enlist by
distance, and sent her compliments to us in the shape ^j^^Iied
of an eighteen pound shot that passed through our seamen
main-top sail. Capt. Waldron immediately ordered whom they

, , , , 1-1 • • 'A r .LI found, and

it to be backed, and in that position to await further often took

intelligence from the stranger. We had not to wait American

long, for, in less than four minutes, there came another JJ^jJuB^f

shot that passed about four feet over the head of the ail right.

230

At Sea

[No. 73

man at the helm, and through the spanker. Our ship
was then hove to, and was soon boarded from our
new acquaintance, by a boat having two officers and
six men, who reported their ship " the sloop of war
Reynard, Captain Spicer, on the impress service."
Our crew consisted of the captain, two mates, eight
hands, a steward and cook. Two of the hands were
broken-down discharged English seamen, one of
whom had not been able to do duty for a month.

The lieutenant took command of our ship, ordered
the crew aft, and proceeded to overhaul them. He
ordered into the boat the steward and cook, both
slaves belonging to Charleston, a Portuguese sailor,
and Jonathan Williams, a native of Maine ; and as I
walked on one side the quarter-deck while they had
possession of the other, I overheard a part of a consul
tation between the two officers, the subject of which
was, whether they should not press me with the others ;
and I believe I was indebted for my escape to my un-
seamanlike appearance — a long coat and breeches.
They then left us, without hands to work our ship,
which the pilot immediately brought to anchor, and
sent his boat, then in attendance, up to Liverpool, to
procure hands for that purpose. This was a busy
day with the Reynard. Head winds having prevailed
for a fortnight, a large outward bound fleet had col
lected, consisting of upwards of one hundred and fifty
sail, more than one hundred of which were Ameri
cans, and all armed, this being just at the close of
"John Adams' hot water war with France."

Reynard was too cunning to meddle with these
Yankees' who had a^ arranged themselves under the
command of Captain King, of the ship Kingston, of
Philadelphia, whom they had appointed Commodore.

NO. 74] Loyal Even to Death 231

They would have been ugly customers for a dozen
sloops of war. The Kingston had two and twenty
guns, and the others from six to sixteen each. The
next morning a boat belonging to the Reynard, that
has lost sight of her in the night, came along side of
us, with a midshipman and four hands, and requested
to be taken to Liverpool. This was agreed to, provided
they, all hands, went to work and got our ship under
way. No sooner said than done. The poor fellows
were glad of the chance, as they had been rowing all
night to overtake their ship, which had sent them to
board some " North Countrymen," and left them to
get on board again as they could. In the afternoon
we got up to town, and went into Queen's dock, which,
notwithstanding the fleet that had so recently left,
was still crowded with American shipping, two hun
dred and fifty-six sail of which hoisted the stars and
stripes on our nation's birth-day, about three weeks
before.

74. Loyal Even to Death

BY THOMAS TRUXTUN (1800)

AT half past seven A.M. the road of Basseterre, This is the
Guadaloupe, bearing east, five leagues distance, I saw ^^ of
a sail in the southeast standing to the westward, an act of
which, from her situation, I at first took for a large g^ntr
ship from Martinico, and hoisted English colors, on james jarvis
giving chase, by way of inducement for her to come was only
down and speak me, which would have saved a long
chase to leeward of my intended cruising ground.
When she did not attempt to alter her course, I ex
amined her more attentively as we approached her,

232 At Sea [NO. 74

and discovered her to be a heavy French frigate,
mounting at least fifty-four guns. I immediately
gave orders for the ship to be cleared, ready for
action, and hauled down the English colors. At
noon the wind became light, and I observed the
chase, that we had before been gaining fast on, held
way with us, but I was determined to continue the
pursuit, though the running to leeward, I was con
vinced, would be attended with many serious disad
vantages, especially if the object of my wishes was
not gratified.

At one o'clock, P.M., on the next day, the wind
was somewhat fresher than the noon preceding, and
appeared likely to continue ; our prospect of bringing
the enemy to action began to brighten, as I perceived
we were coming up with the chase fast, and every
inch of canvas was set that could be of service, ex
cept the bag reefs, which I kept in the top-sails, in
case of the enemy, finding an escape from our thun
der impracticable, should haul on a wind, and give
us fair battle ; but this did not prove to be her com
mander's intention ; I, however, got within hail of
him at eight P.M. ; hoisted our ensign, and had the
candles in the bottle lanterns all lighted, and was in
the lee gangway, ready to speak him, and to demand
a surrender of his ship to the United States of
America, when, at that instant, he commenced a fire
from his stern and quarter guns, directed at our rig
ging and spars. No parley being then necessary,
I sent my principal aid-de-camp, Mr. Vandyke, to the
different officers commanding divisions on the main
battery, to repeat strictly my orders before given, not
to throw away a single charge of powder and shot,
but to take good aim, and to fire directly into the

NO. 74] Loyal Even to Death 233

hull of the enemy, and load principally with two
round shot, and, now and then, with a round shot
and a stand of grape ; to encourage the men at their
quarters, and to cause or suffer no noise or confusion
whatever, but to load and fire as fast as possible,
when it could be done with certain effect.

These orders were given, and in a few moments
I gained a position on his weather quarter, that en
abled us to return, effectually, his salute. Thus as
close, and as sharp an action as ever was fought
between two frigates, commenced, and continued
until within a few minutes of one, A.M., when the
enemy's fire was completely silenced, and he was
again sheering off. It was at this moment that I
considered him as my prize, and was trimming, in the
best manner I could, my much shattered sails, when
I found the mainmast was totally unsupported with
rigging, every shroud was shot away, and some of
them, in many places, so as to render stoppers use
less, which in fact could not be applied with effect.
I then gave orders for all the men to be sent up from
the gun deck, to endeavor to secure the mast, in
order that we might get alongside of the enemy again
as soon as possible ; but every effort was in vain, for
it went over the side in a few minutes after, and car
ried with it the topmen, among whom was an amiable
young gentleman, who commanded the main top,
Mr. James Jarvis, son of James Jarvis, Esq. of New
York. This young gentleman, it seems, was apprised
of his danger by an old seaman, but he had already
so much the principle of an officer engrafted on his
mind, not to leave his quarters, that he replied, if the
mast went, they must go with it ; which was the case,
and only one of them was saved. I regret much his

234 <dt Sea [NO. 75

loss, as a promising young officer and amiable young
man, as well as on account of a long intimacy that
has subsisted between his father and myself, but have
great satisfaction in finding that I have lost no other
men, and only two or three were slightly wounded ;
out of thirty-nine of the crew killed and wounded,
fourteen were killed, and twenty-five were wounded.
As soon as the mainmast went, every effort was
made to clear the wreck from the ship as soon as
possible, which was effected in about an hour ; and,
as her security was then the great object, since it
was impossible to pursue the enemy, I immediately
bore away for Jamaica, for repairs.

I should be wanting in common justice were I to
omit here to journalize the steady attention to order,
and the great exertion and bravery shown by all my
officers, seamen, and marines, in this action, many of
whom I had sufficiently tried before on a similar
occasion (the capture of the Insurgent), and all their
names are recorded in the muster-roll I sent to the
Secretary of the Navy, dated the iQth of December
last, signed by myself.

THOMAS TRUXTUN.

75. Letters from a Boy at Sea

BY BASIL HALL (1802)

DEAR FATHER,

After you left us, I went down into the mess-
room ; it is a place about twenty feet long, with a
table in the middle of it, and wooden seats upon
which we sit. When I came down, there were a

NO. 75] A Boy s Letters 235

great -many cups and saucers upon the table. A man
came in, and poured hot water into the tea-pot.
There are about fourteen of us mess at the same time.
We were very merry in this dark hole, where we had
only two candles.

We come down here, and sit when we like ; and
at other times go upon deck. At about ten o'clock
we had supper upon bread and cheese, and a kind of
pudding which we liked very much. Some time
after this I went to a hammock, which was not my
own, as mine was not ready, there not being enough
of clues at it, but I will have it to-night. I got in at
last. It was very queer to find myself swinging
about in this uncouth manner, for there was only about
a foot of space between my face and the roof ; so, of
course, I broke my head a great many times on the
different posts in the cock-pit, where all the midship
men sleep. After having got in, you may be sure I
did not sleep very well, when all the people were
making such a noise going to bed in the dark, and
the ship in such confusion. I fell asleep at last, but
was always disturbed by the quarter-master coming
down to awake the midshipmen who were to be on
guard during the night. He comes up to their bed
sides and calls them ; so I, not being accustomed to
it, was always awaked too. I had some sleep, how
ever, but, early in the morning, was again roused up
by the men beginning to work.

There is a large hole which comes down from
the decks, all the way through to the hold, where
they let down the casks. The foot of the ham
mock that I slept in was just at the hole, so I saw
the casks all coming down close by me. I got up
at half-past seven, and went into the berth (our mess-

236

At Sea [NO. 75

room), and we were all waiting for breakfast till
eight, when the man who serves and brings in the
dishes for the mess came down in a terrible passion,
saying, that as he was boiling the kettle at the stove,
the master-at-arms had thrown water upon the fire
and put it out. All this was because the powder
was coming on board. So we had to want our break
fast for once. But we had a piece of bread and
butter ; and as we were eating it, the master-at-arms
came down, and said that our candles were to be
taken away : so we had to eat our dry meal in the
dark.

I am much better pleased with my situation than
I suspected I would at my first coming on board.
We have in our mess four Scotchmen, six English
men, and two Irish, so that we make a very pleasant
company down in the cock-pit. We dine at twelve,
and breakfast at eight in the morning. At breakfast
we get tea and sea cake : at dinner we have either
beef, pork, or pudding. But when we come into
a harbour or near one, there are always numbers of
boats come out with all sorts of vegetables and fresh
meat, which are not left .long in the boat, for the
people all run, and buy up the soft bread and fresh
provisions.

We midshipmen are upon watch every night for
four hours together; we do nothing but walk the
quarter-deck, if the ship is not sailing. There is
always half the crew upon deck whe'n the ship is
sailing, and we and the lieutenants order them to do
so and so about the ropes and sails. All the men's
hammocks are brought upon deck, and laid in places
at the side for the purpose, both to give room for the
men to work under the decks, and to give them air.

NO. 75] ^4 Boy's Letters 237

All the decks are washed and well scrubbed every
morning, which is right, as they are often dirtied.

We were very near all being destroyed, and
blown up last night, by an alarming fire on board.
As I was standing making my hammock, about ten
o'clock, near two others making theirs, we were
alarmed by seeing a large burst of sparks come from
one corner of the cock-pit. Without going to see
what was the matter, I ran into our berth, or place
where we mess, and got hold of all the pots of beer
which the midshipmen were going to drink. I re
turned with these, and threw them on the fire, while
others ran for water.

When I came back, I saw the purser's steward
covered with fire, and rubbing it off him as fast as
he could, with a pile of burning sheets and blankets
lying at his feet. One of us ran up to the quarter
deck, and seizing the fire-buckets that were nearest,
filled them, and brought them down. We also got
some of the men out of their hammocks, but took
good care not to awaken any of the rest, for fear of
bustle and confusion.

The sentry, as soon as he discovered the smell,
went down to the captain and lieutenants, who im
mediately came to the cock-pit, and whispered out
" Silence ! " They then got more buckets of water,
and quenched the flames, which, as they thought,
were only in the purser's steward's cabin. But one
of the men opened the door of the steward's store
room, and saw a great deal of fire lying on the floor.
Water, of course, was applied, and it also was
quenched ; the store-room was then well flooded.

The captain ordered the purser's steward to be
put in irons directly, as well as his boy, who had

238 At Sea [NO. 76

stuck the light up in the cabin. The captain next
went with the master-at-arms into the powder maga
zine, which was close to the purser's steward's cabin,
and found the bulkhead or partition half -burnt through
by the fire in the cabin !

All this mischief was occasioned by sticking a
naked light upon the beam above the cabin, from
whence it had fallen down and set fire to the sheets.
The steward, in trying to smother it with more, had
set fire to the whole bundle, which he then flung in
a mass into the store-room. There was a watch kept
all night near the spot. Nobody has been hurt.

I am very sorry for the purser's steward, for he
was a very good-natured and obliging man, and much
liked by all of us. He gave us plums, when we
asked them from him. He is broke, I fear. I will
give you the issue in my next letter.

76. Naval Ballads

CONSTITUTION AND GUERRIERE

(August 19, 1812)

IT oft times has been told,

That the British seamen bold,
Could flog the tars of France so neat and handy, oh !

But they never found their match,

Till the Yankees did them catch,
Oh, the Yankee boys for fighting are the dandy, oh !

The Guerriere, a frigate bold,

On the foaming ocean rolled,

Commanded by proud Dacres, the grandee, oh !

NO. 76] Naval Ballads 239

With as choice a British crew,
As a rammer ever drew,
Could flog the Frenchmen two to one so handy, oh !

When this frigate hove in view,
Says proud Dacres to his crew,

" Come clear ship for action and be handy, oh !
To the weather gage, boys, get her,"
And to make his men fight better,

Gave them to drink gun-powder mixed with brandy, oh !

Then Dacres loudly cries,

" Make this Yankee ship your prize,
You can in thirty minutes, neat and handy, oh !

Twenty-five's enough I'm sure,

And if you'll do it in a score,
I'll treat you to a double share of brandy, oh ! "

The British shot flew hot,
Which the Yankees answered not,

Till they got within the distance they called handy, oh !
" Now," says Hull unto his crew,
" Boys, let's see what we can do,

If we take this boasting Briton we're the dandy, oh ! "

The first broadside we pour'd

Carried her mainmast by the board,
Which made this loftly frigate look abandon'd, oh !

Then Dacres shook his head,

And to his officers said,

" Lord, I didn't think those Yankees were so handy,
oh!"

NO. 76] Naval Ballads 241

Our second told so well

That their fore and mizzen fell,
Which dous'd the Royal ensign neat and handy, oh !

" By George ! " says he, " we're done,"

And they fired a lee gun,

While the Yankees struck up Yankee Doodle Dandy,
oh!

Then Dacres came on board,

To deliver up his sword,
Tho' loth was he to part with it, it was so handy, oh !

"Oh, keep your sword," says Hull,

" For it only makes you dull,
Cheer up and take a little drink of brandy, oh ! "

Now, fill your glasses full,

And we'll drink to Captain Hull,

And so merrily we'll push about the brandy, oh !
John Bull may toast his fill,
But let the world say what they will,

The Yankee boys for fighting are the dandy, oh !

PERRY'S VICTORY
(September 10, 1813)

WE sailed to and fro in Erie's broad lake,
To find British bullies or get into their wake,
When we hoisted our canvas with true Yankee speed,
And the brave Captain Perry our squadron did lead.

We sailed thro' the lake, boys, in search of the foe,
In the cause of Columbia our brav'ry to show,
To be equal in combat was all our delight,
As we wished the proud Britons to know we could
fight.

242 At Sea [NO. 76

And whether like Yeo, boys, they'd taken affright,
We could see not, nor find them by day or by night ;
So cruising we went in a glorious cause,
In defence of our rights, our freedom, and laws.

At length to our liking six sails hove in view,
Huzzah ! says brave Perry, huzzah ! says his crew,
And then for the chase, boys, with our brave little

crew,
We fell in with the bullies and gave them " burgoo."

Though the force was unequal, determined to fight,
We brought them to action before it was night ;
We let loose our thunder, our bullets did fly,
" Now give them your shot, boys," our commander
did cry.

We gave them a broadside, our cannon to try,
"Well done," says brave Perry, "for quarter they'll

cry,

Shot well home, my brave boys, they shortly shall see,
That quite brave as they are, still braver are we."

Then we drew up our squadron, each man full of fight,
And put the proud Britons in a terrible plight.
The brave Perry's movements will prove fully as bold,
As the fam'd Admiral Nelson's prowess of old.

The conflict was sharp, boys, each man to his guns,
For our country, her glory, the vict'ry was won,
So six sail (the whole fleet) was our fortune to take,
Here's a health to brave Perry, who governs the Lake.

NO. 77] The Guerriere 243

77. On Board the Guerriere

BY CAPTAIN WILLIAM ORME (1812)

I COMMANDED the American brig Betsey, in the This is an

year 1812, and was returning home from Naples, Italy, ^^"tufe

to Boston. When near the western edge of the Grand Of the

Bank of Newfoundland, on the loth of August, 1812, Guerriere

T r 11 • -1 T* • • i f • x- -\ /-• • written by an

I fell in with the British irigate Giiernere, Captain American
Dacres, and was captured by him. Myself and a boy who
were taken on board of the frigate ; the remainder of be'present*0
my officers and men were left in the Betsey, and sent when'the
into Halifax, N.S., as a prize to the Guerriere.

On the igth of the same month, the wind being
fresh from the northward, the Guerriere was under
double-reefed topsails during all the forenoon of this
day. At 2 P.M., we discovered a large sail to wind
ward, bearing about North from us. We soon made
her out to be a frigate. She was steering off from
the wind, with her head to the Southwest, evidently
with the intention of cutting us off as soon as possible.

Signals were soon made by the Guerrihe, but as
they were not answered, the conclusion of course
was, that she was either a French or an American
frigate. Captain Dacres appeared anxious to ascer
tain her character,- and after looking at her for that
purpose, handed me his spy-glass, requesting me to
give him my opinion of the stranger. I soon saw from
the peculiarity of her sails, and from her general ap
pearance, that she was, without doubt, an American
frigate, and communicated the same to Captain Dacres.
He immediately replied, that he thought she came
down too boldly for an American, but soon after

244

At Sea

[No. 77

added, " The better he behaves, the more honor we
shall gain by taking him."

The two ships were rapidly approaching each other,
when the Gtierrih'e backed her main-topsail, and
waited for her opponent to come down, and com
mence the action. He then set an English flag at
each mast-head, beat to quarters, and made ready for

THE "CONSTITUTION."

the fight. When the strange frigate came down to
within two or three miles distance, he hauled upon
the wind, took in all his light sails, reefed his top
sails, and deliberately prepared for action. It was
now about five o'clock in the afternoon, when he filled
away and ran down for the Gncrricrc. At this mo
ment, Captain Dacres politely said to me : " Captain
Orme, as I suppose you do not wish to fight against
your own countrymen, you are at liberty to go below

NO. 77] The Guerriere 245

the water-line." It was not long after this before I
retired from the quarter-deck to the cock-pit.

Of course I saw no more of the action until the
firing ceased, but I heard and felt much of its effects ;
for soon after I left the deck, the firing commenced
on board the Guerriere y and was kept up almost con
stantly until about six o'clock, when I heard a tre
mendous explosion from the opposing frigate. The
effect of her shot seemed to make the Guerrtire reel,
and tremble as though she had received the shock of
an earthquake. Immediately after this, I heard a tre
mendous crash on deck, and was told the mizzenmast
was shot away. In a few moments afterward, the
cock-pit was rilled with wounded men.

At about half-past six o'clock in the evening, after
the firing had ceased, I went "on deck, and there be
held a scene which it would be difficult to describe :
all the Guerrtires masts were shot away, and as she
had no sails to steady her, she lay rolling like a log in
the trough of the sea. The decks were covered with
blood, the gun tackles were not made fast, and several
of the guns got loose, and were surging to and fro
from one side to the other.

Some of the petty officers and seamen, after the
action, got liquor, and were intoxicated ; and what
with the groans of the wounded, the noise and confu
sion of the enraged survivors on board of the ill-fated
ship, rendered the whole scene fearful beyond de
scription.

246

At Sea

[No. 78

78. Capture of the Guerriere

BY CAPTAIN ISAAC HULL (1812)

SIR,

I have the honour to inform you, that on the
1 9th instant, at 2 P.M., with the Constitution under
my command, a sail was discovered from the mast
head, but at such a distance, we could not tell what
she was. All sail was instantly made in chase, and
we soon came up with her. At 3 P.M. we could
plainly see that she was a ship on the starboard
tack, under easy sail, close on a wind ; at half past 3
p. M. we made her out to be a frigate ; we continued
the chase until we were within about three miles,
when I ordered the light sails taken in, the courses
hauled up, and the ship cleared for action. At this
time the chase had backed his main top-sail, waiting
for us to come down.

As soon as the Constitution was ready for action, I
bore down with an intention to bring him to close
action immediately ; but on our coming within gun
shot she gave us a broadside and filled away, and
wore, giving us a broadside on the other tack, but
without effect ; her shot falling short. She contin
ued wearing and manoeuvring for about three quar
ters of an hour, to get a raking position, but finding
she could not, she bore up, and run under top-sails
and jib, with the wind on the quarter.

Immediately we made sail to bring the ship up
with her, and five minutes before 6 P.M. we were
along side within half pistol shot ; then we com
menced a heavy fire from all our guns, double shotted
with round and grape, and so well directed were they,

NO. 7s] The Guerriere 247

and so warmly kept up, that in fifteen minutes his
mizzen-mast went by the board, and his main-yard
in the slings, and the hull, rigging and sails were
very much torn to pieces. The fire was kept up
with equal warmth for fifteen minutes longer, when
his main-mast and fore-mast went, taking with them
every spar, excepting the bowsprit ; on seeing this
we ceased firing, so that in thirty minutes after we got
fairly along side the enemy she surrendered, and had
not a spar standing, and her hull below and above
water was so shattered, that a few more broadsides
must have carried her down.

After informing you that so fine a ship as the
Guerritre, commanded by an able and experienced
officer, had been totally dismasted, and otherwise cut
to pieces, so as to make her not worth towing into
port, in the short space of thirty minutes, you can
have no doubt of the gallantry and good conduct of
the officers and ship's company I have the honour to
command. It only remains, therefore, for me to
assure you, that they all fought with great bravery;
and it gives me great pleasure to say, that from the
smallest boy in the ship to the oldest seaman, not a
look of fear was seen. They all went into action,
giving three cheers, and requesting to be laid close
along side the enemy.

Enclosed I have the honour to send you a list of
killed and wounded on board the Constitution, and a
report of the damages she has sustained ; also, a list
of the killed and wounded on board the enemy, with
his quarter bill, &c.

I have the honour to be, with very great respect, Sir,
Your obedient servant,

ISAAC HULL.

248 At Sea [NO. 79

79. The Battle of Lake Erie

BY CAPTAIN TAYLOR (1813)

ON the morning of the loth instant at sunrise, they
were discovered from Put-in-Bay, where I lay at
anchor with the squadron under my command. We
got under way, with the wind light at southwest and
stood for them. At ten o'clock the wind hauled to
southeast and brought us to windward ; we formed
the line and brought up. At fifteen minutes before
twelve the enemy commenced firing ; at five minutes
before twelve the action commenced on our part.
Their fire was very destructive, owing to their long
guns, and was mostly directed to the Lawrence, so I
made sail, and directed the other vessels to follow,
for the purpose of closing with the enemy. Every
brace and bow line was shot away, and she became
unmanageable, notwithstanding the great exertions
of the sailing master. In this situation she sustained
the action upwards of two hours, within canister shot
distance, and every gun was rendered useless, and a
greater part of the crew either killed or wounded.

Finding she could no longer annoy the enemy,
I left her in charge of Lieutenant Yarnall, who, I
was convinced, from the bravery already displayed by
him, would do what would comport with the honour
of the flag. At half past two the wind sprang up,
and Captain Elliot was enabled to bring his vessel,
the Niagara, gallantly into close action ; I immedi
ately went on board her, when he anticipated my wish
by volunteering to bring the schooners, which had
been kept astern by the lightness of the wind, into
close action. It was with unspeakable pain, that I

NO. so] Star-spangled Banner 249

saw, soon after I got on board the Niagara, the flag
of the Lawrence come down, although I was per-,
fectly sensible that she had been defended to the
last, and that to have continued to make a show of
resistance would have been a wanton sacrifice of the
remains of her brave crew.

But the enemy was not able to take possession of
her, and circumstances soon permitted her flag again
to be hoisted. At forty-five minutes past two, the
signal was made for "close action." The Niagara
was very little injured, so I determined to pass
through the enemy's line, bore up and passed ahead
of their two ships and a brig, and gave a raking fire
to them from the starboard guns, and to a large
schooner and sloop, from the larboard side, at half
pistol shot distance. The smaller vessels at this
time were within grape and canister distance, under
the direction of Captain Elliot. They kept up a well
directed fire until the two ships, a brig, and a
schooner, surrendered. One schooner and a sloop
made a vain attempt to escape.

Those officers and men who were immediately
under my observation showed the greatest gallantry,
and I have no doubt that all others conducted them
selves as became American officers and seamen.

80. The Star-spangled Banner

BY FRANCIS SCOTT KEY (1814)

O SAY, can you see by the dawn's early light,

What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last
gleaming ?

250 At Sea [NO. so

Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the

perilous fight,
On the ramparts we watched were so gallantly

streaming ;

And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still

there.

O say, does the star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the
brave ?

On the shore dimly seen, through the mists of the

deep,

Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence re
poses,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering

steep,

As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses ?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream.
'Tis the star-spangled banner ! O long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the
brave !

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion

A home and a country shall leave us no more ?

Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps'
pollution.

No refuge could save the hireling and slave,

From the terror of death and the gloom of the grave.
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the
brave !

• si] Licking a Frigate 251

O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand

Between their loved homes and the war's desola
tion ;

Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heaven-res
cued land,
Praise the power that has made and preserved us

a nation.

Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just.
And this be our motto : " In God is our trust."

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall

wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the
brave.

8 i. How the Privateer licked the
Frigate

BY NATHANIEL SHALER (1813)

Two days after dispatching the Nereid, I took a This is the

whaleman from London, bound for the South Seas, story of a

but as she was of no value, I took out such stores as private*'

I could stow, and as I was much lumbered with pris- vessel

oners and baggage, I put them on board, and ordered J^,™1^ th

her for Falmouth. The chasing of this ship had American

taken me some distance from my ground, and owing f^pture

to calms, I could not regain it until the 25th of last British

month, when at sunrise three ships were discovered vessek^d

ahead. We made all sail in chase. The wind was jfnecessary.
light, and we came up with them slowly. On a
nearer approach, they proved to be two ships and a

252 At Sea [NO. si

brig. One of the ships had all the appearance of
a large transport, and from her manoeuvres, seemed
to have concerted measures for mutual defence. The
large ship appeared to take the bulk of an action.
Boats were seen passing to and from her. She had
boarding nettings almost up to her tops, with her top
mast studding-sail booms out : and sails at their ends,
ready for running, as if prepared for a runaway fight.

Her ports appeared to be painted, and she had
something on deck, resembling a merchant's boat.
After all this what do you think she was ? Have a
little patience, and I will tell you. At 3 P.M. a sud
den sq.uall struck us from the northward, and since
the ship had not yet received it, before I could get
our light sails in, and almost before I could turn
round, I was under the guns, (not of a transport) but
of a large frigate, and not more than a quarter of a
mile from her.

I immediately hauled down English colors, which
I previously had up, set three American ensigns,
trimmed our sails by the wind, and commenced a
brisk fire from our little battery, but this was returned
with woeful interest. Her first broadside killed two
men and wounded six others (two of them severely,
one had since died); it also blew up one of my salt
boxes, with two nine-pound cartridges ; this communi
cated fire to a number of pistols and three tube boxes
which were lying on the companion way, all of which
exploded, and some of the tubes penetrated through
a crevice under the companion leaf, and found their
way to the cabin floor ; but that was wet, and the fire
screen up, so no further accident took place. This,
together with the fire from the frigate, I assure you,
made warm work on the Tompkins' quarter-deck,

NO. sij Licking a Frigate 253

but thanks to her heels, and the exertions of my
brave officers and crew, I still have the command
of her.

When the frigate opened her fire on me it was
about half -past three. I was then a little abaft her
beam. To have attempted to tack in a hard squall,
would at least have exposed me to a raking fire, and
to have attempted it, and failed to do so, would have
been attended with the inevitable loss of the schooner.
I therefore thought it most prudent to take her fire
on the tack on which I was, and this I was exposed
to from the position I have mentioned, until I had
passed her bow ; all the while she was standing on
with me, and almost as fast as ourselves, and such a
tune as was played round my ears, I assure you, I
never wish to hear again on the same key.

At four his shot began to fall short of us. At half-
past four the wind was dying away, the enemy still
held it, and his ship began to reach us. We got out
sweeps, and turned all hands to. I also threw all the
lumber from the deck, and about two thousand pound
weight of shot from the after hold. From about five
P.M., all his shot fell short of us. At twenty-five min
utes past five the enemy hove about, and I was glad
to get so clear of one of the most quarrelsome com
panions that I ever met with. After the first broad
side from the frigate, not a shot struck the hull of
the Tompkins, but the water was literally in foam
all around her.

The moment before the squall struck us, I told Mr.
Farnum that she was too heavy for us, and he went
forward with his glass to take another look, when
the squall struck the schooner as if by magic, and we
were up with her, before we could get in our light

254 -^ Sea [NO.SX

sails. My officers conducted themselves in a way
that would have done honor to a more permanent
service. Mr. Farnum, first Lieutenant, conducted
himself with his usual vigor. Mr. Atchison, sailing-
master, performed his part in the style of a brave
and accomplished seaman. Messrs. Miller and Dodd,
second and third Lieutenants, were not immediately
under my eye, but the precision and promptitude with
which all my orders were executed, is sufficient proof
that they were to be relied upon. Mr. Thomas, boat
swain, and Mr. Casewell, master's-mate, were partic
ularly active, and deserve encouragement.

The name of one of my poor fellows who was killed
ought to be registered on the book of fame, and re
membered with reverence as long as bravery is con
sidered a virtue. He was a black man, by the name
of John Johnson; a twenty-four pound shot struck
him in the hip, and took away all the lower part of
his body. In this state the poor, brave fellow lay on
the deck, and several times exclaimed to his ship
mates, " Fire away, boys, neber haul de color down."
The other was also a black man, by the name of John
Davis, and was struck in much the same way : he
fell near me, and several times requested to be thrown
overboard, saying he was only in the way of the
others. While America has such sailors, she has
little to fear from the tyrants of the ocean.

From the circumstance of the enemy's shot being
twenty-four which I assure you was the case, as we
have felt and weighed them, I am of opinion that it was
the Laurel, a new frigate, which I had information
of. A gentleman whom I took, told me she was in
the fleet ; that she was built and manned for the pur
pose to cope with our frigates ; that if she got sight

NO. 82] Going Aloft 255

of me, she would certainly take me, as she was the
fastest sailer he ever saw.

I send you a list of the killed and wounded ; in
every thing else we are in good order and high spirits.

THE HOUSE OF TIMOTHY DEXTER.

82. Going Aloft

BY FREDERIC STANHOPE HILL (1842)

" Now look here, you Bob," said the mate, one fine
afternoon, " look up aloft there, my lad ; do you see
that royal yard ? "

I looked up, as he bade me, at the royal masthead,
where the yard seemed to me to be about five hun
dred feet above the deck where we stood.

" Yes, sir, I see it."

" Very well ; now suppose you go up there and take
a closer look at it. It's going to be a very familiar
road for you this voyage, and you had better make
yourself acquainted with the way at once;" and he
smiled at his wit, which I failed to appreciate just then.

The ship was on the wind, with all sails set, and
drawing well, and she was reasonably steady ; but as
I gazed aloft, the mast was sweeping about in a very

256 At Sea [NO. 82

dazing manner, and the rigging up there seemed to
me about the size of a fishing line. Remember, I
had never been aloft in my life. I hesitated.

" Well, Bob, I am waiting for you, but I shan't
wait very long, my son ; " and he picked up a piece
of rattling stuff, a cord about the thickness of one's
finger, and ostentatiously swayed to and fro.

I saw that he meant business, and I started on the
trip at once. I have been aloft since that beautiful
afternoon, many times in howling gales of wind to
close-reef topsails ; but I have never since experi
enced the abject fear I endured that day before I
reached the Bombay's royal yard !

But I stuck to it, and I accomplished the task at
last, and my first lesson in seamanship, the severest
one of all, was past. Perhaps some of my readers
may think that I magnify the undertaking ; but, as I
have said, I was a country lad, and in those days
boys did not have gymnasiums, as they have now, to
prepare them for such tests.

" Very well done, Bob, for a first attempt," said
the mate, laughingly, as I reached the deck and
busied myself in getting my trousers pulled down my
legs after my frantic struggle aloft ; " but I thought
you would have squeezed all the tar out of the royal
backstay, you gripped it so savagely. Oh, you'll make
a sailor yet, lad, or I'll know the reason why. Now go
forward and turn the grindstone for the carpenter."

From that day on I was kept constantly in practice
in going aloft, and was soon given the main royal to
loose and furl ; so that in my watch on deck no other
person was ever sent aloft for that purpose, and what
had been but a few weeks before such a terrible
task, became mere play to me.

NO. 83] A Ship on Fire 257

83. A Ship on Fire

BY ROBERT B. DIXON (1873)

WHILE Tom was telling me his story, he had been
" planking " the deck from rail to rail, continually
on the lookout, occasionally stopping and peering
ahead, first from one bow, then from the other, while
I, leaning on the capstan-head, intently listened to
what he said. Just as he had finished speaking, he
stood still, and, steadily gazing off to leeward, said to
me, —

" Come here, Bob. Your eyes are younger than
mine: look off there," pointing with his hand, "and
see if you can make out any thing that looks like a
light in the distance."

I strained my eyes, trying hard to see it, but could
not.

" That's a queer-looking light for a ship's side
light, and it doesn't look like a steamer's mast-head
light either," said the mate.

The mate rubbed up the lenses of the spyglass
with the corner of his coat ; and, bracing himself,
brought the instrument to his eye on a level with the
horizon, and, adjusting the focus, looked long and
steadily at the light. Suddenly he exclaimed, "By
all the mud on Nantucket flats ! That's a ship on
fire, man. It's a good thing you saw that light. Call
all hands at once, and square in the yards so that we
may stand down towards them."

The mate, going aft, reported to the captain, who
hastily came on deck. Taking a quick look through
the glass at the light, which was now plainly visible
off our port beam, the captain at once ordered the

258

At Sea [NO. 83

yards squared, and eased off the main-sheet with his
own hands.

" Crowd on every stitch of canvas, set the royal
and top-mast stay-sail, and be quick about it," cried
out the captain.

" Ay, ay, sir ! " came back the cry from the mate,
who was on the main deck urging on the men. We
all realized the peril our fellow-creatures on the
burning ship must be in. All sail was set, and we
began tearing through the water as fast as it was
possible for the old brig to go. Every sail was
trimmed, and drawing to its fullest extent. Two men
were stationed at the wheel to keep the brig steady,
that she might not fall off too much from her course.

We were all eagerly intent, watching the burning
craft, as we approached nearer. She was now about
five or six miles distant; and, at the rate we were
going, we would be up with her in half an hour.

The mate, who was on the after-house with the
captain, walking forward a few steps, sang out, —

" Lay aft, men, and get the boat ready to lower ! "

The lashings of the boat, which was hung at the
" davies," were hastily cast off, and the boat was
ready to lower into the water at a moment's notice.
Having now come within a mile of the burning
vessel, we could easily make out that she was a
large ship, apparently deeply loaded. The whole
forward part of the vessel was in flames ; and the
fire could be seen leaping up through the fore-hatch,
in which part of the vessel it had probably begun.

We were now about a quarter of a mile to the
windward of the burning ship. Our light sails were
quickly taken in, the wheel put down, the brig
rounded-to, . and the topsails filling aback brought

NO. 83] A Ship on Fire 259

the vessel to a stand-still. The boat, containing the
second mate and two men, was lowered away at
once, the falls unhooked, and the men, shipping their
oars, pulled away with a strong and steady stroke.
There was nothing for us to do but to wait anxiously
for the return of our boat, and to find out how we
might still further render assistance. Fortunately
for the safety of the boat, the water was very smooth,
the weather for the past few days having been
remarkably fine.

It was a night I shall never forget. The sky was
brightly illuminated by the glare of the burning ship,
which also brilliantly lighted up the sea for miles
around. Our boat was not yet half way to the burn
ing ship. Our men could be seen bending at the oars
with their utmost strength, and using every endeavor
so reach the ship as soon as possible. At this moment
a tremendous explosion occurred, which resounded
again and again, like the rattle of thunder in the
distance. The main and mizzen masts fell over the
side with a loud crash, leaving the ship a dismasted
hulk. The dense smoke from the explosion now
lifting, we could see debris of all kinds floating in the
water.

The hull, which was burning fiercely, was fast
nearing the water's edge ; and in a few moments
more, the bow rising high out of the water, the ship
went down stern first.

We were in a state of the most intense excitement,
wondering as to the fate of the poor fellows that we
had seen left on the deck of the ship just before the
explosion took place. The smoke which clung to
the water having lifted sufficiently, we could see our
boat picking her way through the floating pieces of

260 At Sea INC. s4

wreck and cargo, some of which, still burning, lighted
the way. The second mate could be seen standing
in the stern-sheets of the boat, with the tiller-ropes
in his hands, eagerly looking about, occasionally
changing his course as something attracted his atten
tion ; now stopping the boat to pull in some apparently
lifeless object, then steering away to continue the
search, which he hoped would result in saving all
the drowning men.

The ship's boat, which was overloaded, and sat
deeply in the water, had been slowly pulling towards
us during this time, and soon came under our lee
quarter. We threw the men a rope, fastened a side-
ladder over the stern and, with our assistance, they
were soon on board. Their boat, for the time being,
was made fast to the quarter, and allowed to drift
astern.

One of the men, who proved to be the first officer,
told the captain that their ship was the English ship
Oriole of Shields, Capt. Talbot, and that they were
bound from Philadelphia to Bremen with a cargo of
petroleum.

84. Sewing under Difficulties

BY ROBERT B. DIXON (1873)

THE next morning I was as hungry as a bear, and
ate my tin-plate-full of " salt hoss," potatoes, and
bread, washing it all down with a pot of muddy
coffee. Never had any thing tasted so good to me :
and, having eaten even to the last scrap, I had the
audacity to ask the cook for another piece of beef ;

NO. 84] Sewing under Difficulties 261

but he would not give it to me, saying I had had my
" stint."

The day was clear and warm ; a stiff breeze was
blowing from the north-west, and we were going
through the water at a good pace ; every thing hold
ing favorable, we expected to sight the coast of
Mexico in
three days.

In the after
noon the cook
let me have a
little fresh
water to wash
out some of
my clothes
which had
been wet
through dur
ing the gale ;
he also gave
me a small
piece of soap ;
and, taking
the bucket and
my clothes, I

went forward, and became a washerman for the
first time. I rubbed and scrubbed away in the most
energetic manner, using up my small allowance of
soap on the first piece ; and, besides, pulled off
several buttons, tore the heel completely off one
of my new stockings, and- ripped a big slit in my
shirt. Disgusted with my efforts, I hung up my
dripping garments, not thinking to wring them out,
and fastened them to the fore-stay, tying them on

AN OLD DESK.

262 At Sea [NO. 84

securely, as I thought, with short bits of spun-yarn.
When I went to take them in, I found two of my
largest pieces missing : I had not tied them on fast
enough, and they had blown away. Taking what
remained, I went into my room, and attempted to
repair the damage.

Sewing was something I had never tried before.
I had several needles all threaded : and after pricking
my finger several times, I got on very well with the
slit in my shirt ; but sewing on a button I found a
more complicated matter. Going to the cook, I
asked his assistance : he showed me how it was done,
and kindly sewed on several for me. I now thought
I could do it all right, so decided to make the at
tempt. The trousers which I wore possessed on one
side a solitary button, to which for several days I
had attached the two straps of my suspenders ; and
now that I was at it, and so confident of my ability,
I determined to try my skill at sewing on the button
myself. Taking the coarsest thread in the box that
my mother had so well filled for me, and the largest
needle I could find, I held the eye of it towards the
light, and tried to thrust the thread through, but
found it would not go so easily as I had imagined.
I tried it again, first wetting the thread, and then
twisting the end to a fine point between my fingers.
This time, determined it should go through, I took
deliberate aim ; and, giving it a push, I grasped the
head of the needle and the thread with my fingers,
sure that I had succeeded : what was my dismay, on
carefully opening them, to find the thread had passed
to one side ! After a few more attempts, and a deal
of muttered and rather obscure conversation with
myself, the needle was threaded. " Gloria Mundi ! "

NO. s4] Sewing under Difficulties 263

I shouted ; and, pulling the thread through, I doubled
it, cut it off about a yard long, and tied a large knot
in the end of it.

Holding my trousers with my left hand, and keep
ing the button firmly in place by a finger and thumb,
I proceeded with the difficult part of the undertaking.
I stuck the needle through the hole in the button,
gave it a quick thrust through the waistband, ran it
into my side, and doubled over with a howl of pain ;
then, undismayed, I again grasped the needle, and
gave it a long hard pull that brought the thread to
the end. What was my grief, after all this effort, to
see the button slip over the knot, and roll off onto
the floor! I had pushed the needle through the
wrong way. Trying again, and finally getting well
started, I was just regaining my spirits, when the
thread snarled up, caught, and broke. After prick
ing my fingers several times more, and sticking the
head of the needle about half an inch under my
thumb-nail, I got the button sewed on. Having some
thread left in the needle, I wound it round and round
between the button and the cloth, until the space was
about half filled up, and then, running the needle
several times through the cloth, cut off the thread.
Having at last succeeded, I was happy.

The next day was Sunday, and a grand loafing-
day : nothing was done except to wash down decks
in the morning, pump the ship, occasionally take a
slight pull at the braces, steer, and keep lookout.
The sailors are naturally glad when Sunday comes
around. Sunday dinner at sea is always a little
better than common: "plum-duff" with sugar sauce
is usually supplied forward ; and, if a cook wants to
keep on the right side of the crew, he must be able to

264

At Sea

[No. 85

make a good "duff." In appearance it is very much
like a loaf of brown-bread, with a raisin thrown in
here and there. A large amount must be made, as
the sailors expect it ; and if, for any reason, the
supply should be diminished or cut off, trouble would
be likely to ensue.

The ship
Constitution
which took
the Guerriere
had grown
weak and
old-fash
ioned, and it
was proposed
in 1830 to
break her up.
Holmes's
poetry had
an effect,
and the
Constitution
is still in
existence.

85. Old Ironsides

BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES (1830)

AY, tear her tattered ensign down !

Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see

That banner in the sky ;
Beneath it rung the battle shout,

And burst the cannon's roar ; —
The meteor of the ocean air

Shall sweep the clouds no more !

Her deck, once red with heroes' blood,

Where knelt the vanquished foe,
When winds were hurrying o'er the flood,

And waves were white below,
No more shall feel the victor's tread,

Or know the conquered knee ; —
The harpies of the shore shall pluck

The eagle of the sea !

O better that her shattered hulk
Should sink beneath the wave ;

Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
And there should be her grave ;

NO. 86] A "Japanese Reception 265

Nail to the mast her holy flag,

Set every threadbare sail,
And give her to the god of storms,

The lightning and the gale !

86. A Japanese Reception

BY COMMODORE MATTHEW GALBRAITH PERRY (1852)

THURSDAY (July 14), opened with a sun that was
somewhat obscured at early dawn, but which soon
came out brightly, and dispelled the fogs and clouds
which overhung the land.

All on board the ships were alert from the earliest
hour, making the necessary preparations. Steam
was got up and the anchors were weighed, that the
ships might be moved to a position where their guns
would command the place of reception. All, of
course, were eager to bear a part in the ceremonies
of the day, but all could not possibly go, as a suffi
cient number must be left to do ship's duty. The
officers, as had been ordered, were in full official
dress, while the sailors and marines were in their
naval and military uniforms of blue and white.

Before eight bells in the morning watch had struck,
the Susquehanna and Mississippi moved slowly down
the bay. Simultaneously with this movement of our
ships, six Japanese boats were observed to sail in the
same direction, but more within the land. On doub
ling the head-land which separated the former an
chorage from the bay below, the preparations of the
Japanese on the shore came suddenly into view. The

266 At Sea [NO.SG

land bordering the head of the bay was gay with a
long stretch of painted screens of cloth, upon which
was emblazoned the arms of the Emperor. Nine tall
standards stood in the centre of an immense number
of banners of divers lively colors, which were arranged
on either side, until the whole formed a crescent of
variously tinted flags, which fluttered brightly in the
rays of the morning sun. From the tall standards
were suspended broad pennons of rich scarlet, which
swept the ground with their flowing length. On the
beach in front of this display were ranged regiments
of soldiers, who stood in fixed order, evidently ar
rayed to give an appearance of martial force, that
the Americans might be duly impressed with the
military power of the Japanese.

Two boats approached as the steamers neared the
opening of the bay, and when the anchors were
dropped they came alongside the Susquehanna.
Kayama Yezaiman, with his two interpreters, came
on board, followed immediately by Nagazima Sabo-
roske and an officer in attendance, who had come in
the second boat. They were duly received at the
gangway, and conducted to seats on the quarter deck.
All were dressed in full official costume, somewhat
different from their ordinary garments. Their gowns,
though of the usual shape, were much more elabo
rately adorned. The material was of very rich silk
brocade of gay colors, turned up with yellow velvet,
and the whole dress was highly embroidered with
gold lace in various figures, among which was con
spicuously displayed on the back, sleeves, and breast
the arms of the wearer. Saboroske, in spite of his
elaborate toilette and his finery, all bedizened with
gold thread, glossy silk, and gay colors, did not pro-

NO. 86] A Japanese Reception 267

duce a very impressive effect; but by his comical
appearance provoked mirth rather than admiration.
He had, in fact, very much the appearance of an
unusually brilliant knave of trumps. A signal was
now hoisted from the Susquehanna as a summons for
the boats from the other ships, and in the course of
half an hour they had all pulled alongside with their
various officers, sailors, and marines, detailed for the
day's ceremonies. The ships' boats followed after in
order, with the cutters containing the two bands of
the steamers, who enlivened the occasion with their
cheerful music.

The guides in the Japanese boats pointed to the
landing place toward the centre of the curved shore,
where a temporary wharf had been built out from the
beach by means of bags of sand and straw. The
advance boat soon touched the spot, and Captain
Buchanan, who commanded the party, sprang ashore,
being the first of the Americans who landed in the
Kingdom of Japan. The rest of the boats now pulled
in and disembarked their respective loads. The
marines (one hundred) marched up the wharf, and
formed into line on either side, facing the sea ; then
came the hundred sailors, who were also ranged in
rank and file as they advanced, while the two bands
brought up the rear. The American force was
composed of very vigorous, able-bodied men, who
contrasted strongly with the smaller and more ef
feminate-looking Japanese. Their line extended
around the whole circuit of the beach, from the
further extremity of the village to the abrupt accliv
ity of the hill which bounded the bay on the north
ern side ; while an immense number of the soldiers
thronged in, behind and under cover of the cloth

268 At Sea

screens which stretched along the rear. The loose
order of this Japanese army did not betoken any
very great degree of discipline. The soldiers were
tolerably well armed and equipped. Their uniform
was very much like the ordinary Japanese dress.
Their arms were swords, spears, and match-locks.
Those in front were all infantry, archers and lancers;
but large bodies of cavalry were seen behind, some
what in the distance, as if held in reserve. The
horses of these seemed of a fine breed, hardy, of
good bottom, and brisk in action ; and these troopers,
with their rich caparisons, presented at least a showy
cavalcade. Along the base of the rising ground
which ascended behind the village, and entirely in
the rear of the soldiers, was a large number of the
inhabitants, among whom there was quite an assem
blage of women, who gazed with intense curiosity,
through the openings in the line of the military, upon
the stranger visitors from another hemisphere.

On the arrival of the Commodore, his suite of
officers formed a double line along the landing place,
and as he passed up between, they fell into order
behind him. The procession was then formed and
took up its march toward the house of reception, the
route to which was pointed out by Kayama Yezaiman
and his interpreter, who preceded the party. The
marines led the way, and the sailors following,
the Commodore was duly escorted up the beach.
The United States flag and the broad pennant were
borne by two athletic seamen, who had been selected
from the crews of the squadron on account of their
stalwart proportions. Two boys, dressed for the
ceremony, preceded the Commodore, bearing in an
envelope of scarlet cloth the boxes which contained

NO. 86 j A Japanese Reception 269

his credentials and the President's letter. These
documents, of folio size, were beautifully written on
vellum, and not folded, but bound in blue silk velvet.
Each seal, attached by cords of interwoven gold and
silk with pendant gold tassels, was encased in a cir
cular box six inches in diameter and three in depth,
wrought of pure gold. Each of the documents,
together with its seal, was placed in a box of rose
wood about a foot long, with lock, hinges, and
mountings, all of gold. On either side of the Com
modore marched a tall, well-formed negro, who,
armed to the teeth, acted as his personal guard.
These blacks, selected for the occasion, were two of
the best-looking fellows of their color that the squad
ron could furnish. All this parade was but for
effect.

The procession was obliged to make a somewhat
circular movement to reach the entrance of the house
of reception. This gave a good opportunity for the
display of the escort.

As the Commodore and his suite ascended to the
reception room, the two dignitaries who were seated
on the left arose and bowed, and the Commodore and
suite were conducted to the arm chairs which had
been provided for them on the right. They were
both men of advanced years, the former apparently
about fifty, and the latter some ten or fifteen years
older. Prince Toda was the better looking man of
the two, and the intellectual expression of his large
forehead and amiable look of his regular features
contrasted very favorably with the more wrinkled
and contracted, and less intelligent face of his asso
ciate, the prince of Iwami. They were both very
richly dressed, their garments being of heavy silk

270 At Sea [NO. 86

brocade interwoven with elaborately wrought figures
in gold and silver.

From the beginning, the two princes had assumed
an air of statuesque formality which they preserved
during the whole interview, as they never spoke a
word, and rose from their seats only at the entrance
and exit of the Commodore, when they made a grave
and formal bow.

PART VII
THE ARMY

87. A Soldier in the Whiskey
Rebellion

BY JOHN SHIPPEN (1794)

MOUNT PLEASANT TOWNSHIP,
Oct. 31, 1794.

MY DEAR FATHER : I am now seated in our tent,
surrounded by two or three of my companions, while
the remainder of the ten are finishing their supper.
It is composed of chocolate, bread and butter, and
the remnants of a chicken or two, which gratified our
palates at noon.

They are supping on a little platform erected by
way of sunshine table, at the door.

The talking and laughing of those around, and two
different songs, one from each of the neighboring
tents, combined at once in my ear, would perhaps
entirely prevent me from writing or thinking at all,
but that I have been so used to it for about two weeks
past. I scarcely know that I am in the midst of it.

I might add before I proceed, that by way of table,
271

272 The Army [NO. s7

I have placed on my lap a little board. Yesterday
morning it was the cover of a provision box for our
mess, which had the ill fortune to be staved to pieces.
This was part of the damage done to the property
of our company, by the oversetting of our wagon
yesterday.

I cannot help thanking you, sir, just in this place
for your thoughtfulness and kindness in sending me
your little green waxen taper. It serves me as light
on this occasion. Were it not for its aid, I should be
obliged to postpone writing till morning.

What with cooking, eating, feeding, currying and
watering our horses, attending roll, standing guard,
making our beds, and riding out in the country by
turns to procure such necessaries as we want and to
get our clothes washed, it consumes the whole day.

When we march it requires the greatest exertions
to have every thing go smooth. If this were not the
case, we should be unhappy. Work keeps our bodies,
and consequently our minds, fully employed.

Things are most amazingly dear. We have how
ever reduced prices somewhat by declaring we would
not be imposed upon. We have plenty of beef and
flour, sometimes we are lucky enough to draw bread.
Hay and oats have been the scarcest. Hay has been
less plenty. However, we are now getting in a more
plentiful country.

Our marches are excessively slow and tiresome.
We have sat on our horses, six, seven, and eight
hours at a time, in the rain. One night, and that the
worst since I left home, we slept on straw at the fire,
covered by blanketing, without tents. The wagons
had not been able to reach us. I believe not a single
person experienced the slightest injury from it.

NO. ss] Escape from the Rnemy 273
88. An Escape from the Enemy

BY JOHN SHIPPED (1794)

PITTSBURGH, Nov. 15, 1794.

DEAR AND HONORED SIR : I am sorry I have not
been able to write you oftener than I have. The
seldomness of an opportunity, the real want of time,
sometimes the hurry and flurry of the camp, and at
other times our tent, are some circumstances that
have prevented my enjoying the agreeable exercise.

Nine prisoners were brought the other night by
some of our scouring parties, from their beds in this
town to the Pennsylvania Camp before they reached
this encampment. They are now under guard.

I am told that a man by the name of Hamilton,
who was very active in the late disturbances, was
lately informed on. A person who knew him well
undertook to describe his dress and identify him. A
body of troops were set to guard the house ; their
orders were to shoot him if he came out and attempted
flight.

In the meantime the cunning rogue was busy
changing his dress for that of a hired man, very dif
ferent from his own. He walked out of the house
with apparent carelessness and unconcern. He spoke
with the soldiers and officers. Indeed, he answered
some questions that were put to him regarding Ham
ilton, with such adroitness that he escaped through
them and fled. This story seems improbable but I
am told that it is true.

Pittsburgh is a handsome situation. I think I never
saw two more beautiful rivers than the Monongahela
and Alleghany. Pittsburgh is amazingly crowded with

274 Tfo Army [NO. sg

quarters of generals, colonels, aid-de-camps, and other
officers. The people are afraid of being eaten up if
the army should rest here, but I believe there is not

the most distant danger.

89. The British March to
Washington

BY GEORGE ROBERT GLEIG (1812)

Five WE started, on the 24th, at an early hour, and our

thousand march was, for some time, both cool and agreeable.

British troops

landed about -^ ° sooner had we begun to emerge irom the woods,

fifty miles and to enter the open country, than an overpowering

Washington cnange was perceived. The sun, from which we had

and marched been hitherto defended, now beat upon us in full

cit' t andthe force ' anc* the ^ust rising m thick masses from
burned the under our feet, without a breath of air to disperse it,
public flew directlv into our faces, occasioning the greatest

buildings. . i , . .

inconvenience both to the eyes and respiration. Be
fore many hours had elapsed, numbers of men began
to fall behind, from absolute inability to keep up.

It was now that we experienced the great useful
ness of our badly mounted troopers, or as they were
called by the private soldiers, our cossacks. The
country, from being extremely wooded, had become
open on every side to a considerable extent, although
thick groves, instead of hedges, frequently separated
one field from another. This was exactly the ground
on which an enemy's cavalry could act with advan
tage ; because they might lie in ambush behind these
groves, totally unperceived, and when an opportunity
offered, might charge our column, before it had time

No. 89]

On the March

275

to prepare for their reception. There were one or
two places, indeed, where such events were confidently
anticipated ; whole rows of paling having been pulled
up from the side of the road, and open spaces left,
through which several squadrons of horse might
gallop ; and the consequence was that every man
held his breath in expectation, and prepared himself
to form square in a moment. It was here, I say, that
the mounted drivers became peculiarly useful. They

THE CITY OF WASHINGTON IN l8oO.

were divided into small parties of six or eight, and
sent out in different directions to reconnoitre, two of
them generally taking post at every suspicious corner,
that one might give notice to the column, while the
other watched the motions of the enemy.

We had now proceeded about nine miles, during
the last four of which the sun's rays had beat con
tinually upon us, and we had inhaled almost as great
a quantity of dust as of air. Numbers of men had

276 The Army [NO.SQ

already fallen to the rear, and many more could with
difficulty keep up ; consequently, if we pushed on
much further without resting, the chances were that
at least one-half of the army would be left behind.
To prevent this from happening, and to give time for
the stragglers to overtake the column, an halt was
determined upon, and the troops were led forward to
a spot of ground well wooded, and watered by a
stream which crossed the road, and they were ordered
to refresh themselves.

The hour of noon was approaching when a heavy
cloud of dust, apparently not more than two or three
miles distant, attracted our attention. On turning a
sudden angle in the road, and passing a small planta
tion, which obstructed the vision towards the left, the
British and American armies became visible to one
This was at another. The position occupied by the latter was one
Biadensburg, of great strength, and commanding attitude. They
Washington, were drawn up in three lines upon the brow of a hill,
having their front and left flank covered by a branch
of the Potomac, and their right resting upon a thick
wood and a deep ravine. This river flowed between
the heights occupied by the American forces and the
little town of Bladensburgh. Across it was thrown
a narrow bridge, extending from the chief street in
that town to the continuation of the road, which
passed through the very centre of their position.

In the mean time, our column continued to advance
in the same order which it had hitherto preserved.
The road conducted us for about two miles in a direc
tion parallel with the river, and also with the enemy's
line. In a short time we arrived in the streets of
Bladensburgh, and within range of the American
artillery. Immediately on our reaching this point,

NO. 89] On the March 277

several of their guns opened upon us, and kept up a
quick and well-directed cannonade, from which, as we
were again commanded to halt, the men were directed
to shelter themselves as much as possible behind the
houses.

Without allowing time to the column to close its
ranks or to be formed by some of the many stragglers,
who were now hurrying, as fast as weariness would
permit, to regain their places, the order to halt was
countermanded, and the word given to attack ; and
we immediately pushed on at double quick time
towards the head of the bridge. 'While we were
moving along the street, a continued fire was kept
up, with some execution, from those guns which
stood to the left of the road ; but it was not till the
bridge was covered with our people that the two-gun
battery upon the road itself began to play. Then,
indeed, it also opened, and with tremendous effect ;
for at the first discharge almost an entire company
was swept down. The riflemen, likewise, now galled
us from the wooded bank with a running fire of
musketry ; and it was not without trampling on many
of their dead and dying comrades that the light brigade
established itself on the opposite side of the stream.

When once there, however, every thing else ap
peared easy. Wheeling off to the right and left of
the road, they dashed into the thicket, and quickly
cleared it of American skirmishers ; who, falling back
with precipitation upon the first line, threw it into
disorder before it had fired a shot. The consequence
was, that our troops had scarcely shown themselves
when the whole of that line gave way, and fled in
the greatest confusion, leaving the two guns upon
.the road in possession of the victors.

278 The Army [NO. sg

The light brigade lightened themselves by throwing
away their knapsacks and haversacks ; and extending
their rank so as to show an equal front with the
enemy, pushed on to the attack of the second line.
The Americans, however, saw our weakness, and
stood firm ; they had the whole of their artillery, with
the exception of those captured on the road, and the
greater part of their infantry in this line, and first
checked the ardour of the assailants by a heavy fire,
then, in their turn, advanced to recover the ground
which was lost. The extended order of the British
troops would not permit them to offer an effectual
resistance against this charge, and they were accord
ingly borne back to the very thicket upon the river's
brink. Here they maintained themselves with deter
mined obstinacy, repelling all attempts to drive them
through it ; frequently they followed to within a short
distance of the cannon's mouth, such parts of the
enemy's line as gave way.

In this state the action continued till the second
brigade had likewise crossed and formed upon the
right bank of the river; when the 44th Regiment,
moving to the right and driving in the skirmishers,
debouched upon the left flank of the Americans and
completely turned it. In that quarter, therefore, the
battle was won. The rout was now general through
out the whole line. The reserve, which ought to
have supported the main body, fled as soon as those
in its front began to give way ; and the cavalry,
instead of charging the British troops, turned their
horses' heads and galloped off, leaving them in un
disputed possession of the field, and of ten out of the
twenty pieces of artillery.

This battle, by which the fate of the American capitol

NO.SQ] On the March 279

was decided, began about one o'clock in the afternoon
and lasted until four. The loss on the part of the Eng
lish was severe, since, out of two-thirds of the army,
which were engaged, upwards of five hundred men
were killed and wounded. On the side of the Amer
icans the slaughter was not so great. Being in pos
session of a strong position they were of course less
exposed in defending, than the others in storming it ;
and had they conducted themselves with coolness and
resolution it is not conceivable how the day could
have been won.

Our troops were worn down from fatigue, and igno
rant of the country, so that the pursuit could not be
continued to any distance. Neither was it attended
with much slaughter. Diving into the recesses of
the forests, and covering themselves with riflemen,
the enemy were quickly beyond our reach ; and as
they had no cavalry to scour even the high road, ten
of the lightest of their guns were carried off in flight.
The defeat, however, was absolute, and the army,
which had been collected for the defence of Washing
ton, was scattered beyond the possibility of, at least,
an immediate reunion; and as the distance from
Bladensburgh to that city does not exceed four miles,
there appeared to be no further obstacle in the way
to prevent its immediate capture.

AN OFFICER OF THE WAR OF l8l2.

NO. go] From the W^hite House 281

90. From the Mistress of the
White House

BY DOLLY MADISON (1814)

TUESDAY, August 23, 1814.

DEAR SISTER : My husband left me yesterday
morning to join General Winter. He inquired anx
iously whether I had courage or firmness to remain
in the President's house until his return on the mor
row, or succeeding day, and on my assurance that
I had no fear but for him, and the success of our
army, he left, beseeching me to take care of myself,
and of the Cabinet papers, public and private. I
have since received two despatches from him written
with a pencil. The last is alarming, because he
desires that I should be ready at a moment's notice
to enter my carriage and leave the city ; that the
enemy seemed stronger than had at first been re
ported, and it might happen that they would reach
the city with the intention of destroying it.

I am accordingly ready ; I have pressed as many
Cabinet papers into trunks as to fill one carriage ; our
private property must be sacrificed, as it is impossible
to procure wagons for its transportation. I am deter
mined not to go myself until I see Mr. Madison safe,
so that he can accompany me, as I hear of much
hostility toward him. Disaffection stalks around us.
My friends and acquaintances are all gone, even the
Colonel with his hundred who were stationed as a
guard in this enclosure. French John (a faithful ser
vant), with his usual activity and resolution, offers to
spike the cannon at the gate, and lay a train of pow
der, which would blow up the British, should they
enter the house. To the last proposition I positively

282 The Army [NO. go

object, without being able to make him understand
why all advantages in war may not be taken.

Wednesday morning, twelve o clock — Since sun
rise, I have been turning my spy-glass in every direc
tion, and watching with unwearied anxiety, hoping to
discover the approach of my dear husband and his
friends; but alas! I can descry only groups of mili
tary, as if there was a lack of arms, or of spirit to
fight for their own fireside.

Three o'clock — Will you believe it, my sister ? we
have had a battle or skirmish near Bladensburgh, and
here I am still within sound of the cannon! Mr. Madi
son comes not. May God protect us ! Two mes
sengers, covered with dust, come to bid me fly ; but
here I mean to wait for him.

At this late hour a wagon has been procured, and
I have had it filled with plate, and the most valuable
portable articles, belonging to the house. Whether
it will reach its destination, the "Bank of Maryland,"
or fall into the hands of British soldiery, events must
determine. Our kind friend Mr. Carroll, has come to
hasten my departure, and in a very bad humour with
me, because I insist on waiting till the large picture
of General Washington is secured, and it requires to
be unscrewed from the wall. This process was found
too tedious for these perilous moments; I have ordered
the frame to be broken, and the canvas taken out. It
is done and the precious portrait placed in the hands
of two gentlemen of New York for safe keeping.
And now, dear sister, I must leave this house, or the
retreating army will make me a prisoner in it by filling
up the road I am directed to take. When I shall
again write to you, or where I shall be to-morrow, I
cannot tell! DOLLY.

NO. gi] The Pillar of Glory 283
91. The Pillar of Glory .

BY EDWIN C. HOLLAND (1813)

HAIL to the heroes whose triumphs have brighten'd

The darkness which shrouded America's name ;
Long shall their valor in battle that lighten'd,
Live in the brilliant escutcheons of fame :
Dark where the torrents flow,
And the rude tempests blow,
The storm clad spirit of Albion raves ;
Long shall she mourn the day,
When, in the vengeful fray,
Liberty walk'd like a god on the waves.

The ocean, ye chiefs, (the region of glory,

Where fortune has destined Columbia to reign,)
Gleams with the halo and lustre of story,

That curl round the wave as the scene of her fame :
There, on its raging tide,
Shall her proud navy ride,
The bulwark of freedom, protected by heaven ;
There shall her haughty foe,
Bow to her prowess low,
There shall renown to her heroes be given.

The Pillar of Glory, the sea that enlightens,

Shall last till eternity rocks on its base,
The splendor of fame its waters that brightens,
Shall light the footsteps of time in his race :
Wide o'er the stormy deep,
Where the rude surges sweep,
Its lustre shall circle the brows of the brave ;
Honor shall give it light,
Triumph shall keep it bright,
Long as in battle we meet on the wave.

284 The Army [NO. 92

Already the storm of contention has hurl'd

From the grasp of Old England the trident of war,
The beams of our stars have illumined the world,
Unfurl'd our standard beats proud in the air:

Wild glares the eagle's eye,

Swift as he cuts the sky,
Marking the wake where our heroes advance ;

Compass'd with rays of light,

Hovers he o'er the fight ;
Albion is heartless — and stoops to his glance.

92. The First Attempt on New
Orleans

BY A BRITISH OFFICER (1814)

BEFORE daylight, on the morning of the I3th, the
boats, armed with carronades, entered the lake, and,
after a pull of thirty-six hours, against the wind and

A BIG GUN OF l8l2.

strong currents, the boats came, on the morning of
the I4th, within sight of five American gun-vessels,
which were moored off Saint Joseph's Island.

NO. 92] New Orleans 285

The boats were got into more dense order, and
threw out their grapplings to get some refreshment,
within a short pull of the enemy's line.

All being ready, the signal was given to advance,
and when the boats were in good range the Americans
pounded away. The boats' crews cried " Give way ! "
and cheered loudly ; hence it became a boat-race.
The Americans were moored in line, at least four hun
dred yards apart one from the other, while the attack
ing boats were a good deal divided, and each boat
pulling away wildly came to close quarters. The
clouds of smoke rolled upwards, and the splashing of
round and grape shot in the water, and the loud ex
hortations of " Give way ! " presented an animated
scene at mid-day. The British at last mastered the
Americans, and captured all the five vessels in suc
cession, making their different crews prisoners, but
not before some of the guns of the captured vessels
had been turned upon those that still resisted, to en
able the boarders to complete their victory.

By the 2ist all the land forces were concentrated
upon the Isle au Poix, situated about equidistant from
the anchorage of the fleet and the destined place of
landing.

Captain Travers's company of riflemen were pulled
ahead. Seeing a fire on the right-hand side of the
creek, a short way within its mouth, these riflemen
quietly stepped ashore, and with a simultaneous rush
they contrived to capture the whole of this lookout
American picket without a single gun of alarm having
been discharged by either party. The straggling
boats then dashed up the creek, which is enclosed on
either side by a vast sea of reeds. Soon after day
light, a few of the troops made good their landing on

286 The Army [NO. 92

the left-hand side of the creek, within seven miles of
New Orleans during the previous night, and the other
boats came up one by one. Early the next day one
thousand six hundred British troops were landed
within seven miles of New Orleans. After marching
through a small wood they came upon more solid
ground near the head of the Bayau, and reached a
house and plantation near the bank of the Mississippi.
Here the same company of riflemen, which had taken
the American picket the night before, now again took
a major and twenty armed American militia-men, in
coloured clothes, prisoners, within six miles of New
Orleans, without a shot being discharged on either
side, or an individual left at liberty to carry any intel
ligence of so wonderful an arrival of armed visitors
so near the city. Unfortunately the captive major
effected his escape, and conveyed the news of the
landing of the British to Orleans.

Not a single obstacle worthy of naming stopped the
march of the soldiers.

There was still five hours' light; but the whole
day was lost, and the troops halted at the very time
they ought to have gone on. Two American vessels
were seen anchored up the river, but no notice was
taken of them, or rather no preparations were made
to receive them should they slip their cables, although
the spot which the British were now holding was a
contracted space of ground within a few hundred
yards of the Mississippi.

Night was now coming on apace ; the British
troops were already landed, and the soldiers were
lounging about.

Fires now blazed in the bivouac and all around
Monsieur Villerey's house, and many lights showed

NO. 92] New Orleans 287

the dark outlines of men passing to and fro, and
busily employed cooking in the kettles belonging to
the slaves of the plantation. Some of the soldiers
were asleep, whilst others were partaking of a warm
meal after a long fast.

In this happy state of security his Britannic Majes
ty's troops were indulging, their arms piled, and each
soldier looking after his little immediate necessities.
Their van-guards were in front at the usual military
distance when, at eight o'clock, a heavy splash in
the river was distinctly heard by some of the troops.
This soon proved to be the American sloop of four
teen guns which had been seen up the river ; and
now, after dark came down, let go her anchor, and
swung round her head to the current, with her broad
side facing the bivouac, within a few hundred yards.
The fires, like so many land-marks or beacons, enabled
the Americans to point their guns. All was prepared
on board the sloop, and vice versa all was unprepared
on shore, when a sonorous voice was heard to exclaim,
in broad English, (as if rising out of the waters of the
Mississippi), " Now, give it 'em ! " As the flashes
from the cannon reflected for a moment the out
lines of the ominous sloop on the water, the round
and grape-shot plunged like so many thunder-bolts
amongst the astounded troops, and the balls bore
down whole piles of arms, knocking kettles off the
fires, scattering blazing beams of wood about, maim
ing some soldiers, and sending others whence no
traveller returns.

The morning of the 24th broke sluggishly, and the
smoking ports of the sloop (it was a sore thorn in the
side of the British head-quarters) still projected its
iron thunder amongst the besieged.

288 The Army [No.92

By the morning of the 25th all the scattered re
mains of the British force were landed piece-meal,
hour after hour, by the prodigious exertions of the
sailors. All eyes were still cast on the American
schooner, whose sides still smoked by day, and at
night vomited iron harbingers from its ports into the
bivouac of the British, so that, in point of fact, the
city of New Orleans and General Jackson now became
only a secondary consideration, and the discussion was
how to get rid of this watery dragon ; for the destruc
tion of which heavy guns were sent for to the fleet, if
possible, to blow her out of the water.

General Jackson profited by this floating deception,
placed there to allure the British general, and took
advantage of his own manoeuvre, which fortunately
for him had the desired effect; and he prolonged the
broad ditch by making a cut across the high road to
the bank of the Mississippi, about one hundred yards
behind the crescent battery on the high road.

This work was executed as a sort of forlorn hope
to save New Orleans even for a day. Behind this
cut and the ditch, the American general promptly
constructed a barricade nearly three quarters of a
mile in length, extending from the Mississippi on his
right to the impassable wood on his left, all across a
flat and naked plain, and within a few hundred yards
of the British out-guards.

The manner of putting this barricade together was
most curious : in the first instance detached barrels
and sugar casks were brought up and left here and
there standing isolated, the apertures between them
being filled up with mud and all sorts of odds and
ends placed along the edge of the ditch so as to
form a temporary screen to protect the defenders

NO. 92] New Orleans 289

against musketry ; the barricade being hardly breast
high, looked like some contemptible expedient, but
the ditch ten feet wide and two or three feet deep
protected this barricade in front, and made a pretty
tolerable field position.

Four heavy pieces of cannon were now in the
crescent battery, which made it somewhat more
respectable. The rude barricade as a war stratagem
was botched together in a sorry straggling way, but
was added to and improved in strength from hour to
hour, and the interstices betwixt the casks and other
crevices of these rough and ready materials were
caulked up with mud and other materials. All this
labour was executed, without any annoyance from the
British advanced posts, within one mile and a quarter
of their head-quarters, by a defeated mass of peas
antry, who only stood their ground because no one
molested them.

On the 2/th, the besieged blew up the American
sloop from the battery with hot balls, and her timbers
floated down the turbid waters of the Mississippi, but
not before her crew had taken to their boats and got
safely ashore.

On the morning of the 28th, at day-break, General
Gibbs, with his brigade, advanced towards the left of
the American barricades, and General Keane in like
manner along the high road parallel to the river, un
housed an American picket from a building a few
hundred yards in front of their crescent battery,
which the enemy set on fire to make more smoke.

General Keane's brigade was steadily advancing,
the rifle-corps leading ; but when within good cannon
range, the crescent battery, with full charge of pow
der and ball, resounded a loud defiance, and some

290 The Army [No.92

cannon balls, striking the centre of the middle regi
ment of the British, knocked down the soldiers, and
tossed them into the air like old bags. This column,
to the utter astonishment of officers and soldiers, was
ordered to halt just as their blood was up ready for
the usual rush. And the light field-pieces began an
interchange with the once significant crescent bat
tery. The American ship of sixteen guns now threw
its broadside obliquely in conjunction with the guns
of the battery in front, that nearly destroyed all the
artillery-men working the two British guns, and soon
stopped their remonstrances ; a few sailors finally
dragged the guns off the field of contention, the
gunners being nearly all killed or wounded. At first
the centre of the column on the high road was thrown
into some confusion, but was soon restored to order.

A battery was erected by the British seven hundred
yards from the crescent battery of the Americans, and
on the ist of January, 1815, his Britannic Majesty's
troops were again ordered to advance. A dense white
fog, however, for a time obscured all objects, and was
one of the luckiest circumstances that could have
happened for the advantage of the attacking body.
When it cleared off the heavy guns of the British
opened with such effect that most of the Americans
deserted the crescent battery, and a great deal of
confusion happened within their main lines ; for this
being the first time they had felt the effects of round
shot of any magnitude, and many of them went off
towards New Orleans, while the bravest crouched be
hind their epaulments ready to stand up to repel the
expected assault For more than ten minutes they
did not fire a gun, and the British cannoniers had the
fight all to themselves. A whole brigade of infantry

NO. 93] Battle of the Thames 2 9 i

close at hand burned to be ordered on to the assault,
and with loud words demanded why they were not
led on, when ladders and other materials had been
brought up for the passage of that ditch. But to
their utter astonishment no such order was given,
and there is no doubt that the British troops, rushing
on under cover of their guns with a few planks,
would have obtained possession of the enemy's works
with facility.

The Americans, seeing that no one came to molest
them, first opened one gun, then a second, until all
their artillery was subsequently manned. The weak
defences of the British mud battery were pierced
through and through, some of its guns dismounted,
and a fresh batch of artillerymen nearly all killed
and wounded ; its fire was silenced, and at night the
residue of its guns were either dragged away or
buried. Thus ended the second siege of the crescent
battery.

It was now considered by the British general that
the American barricade was too strong to attack in
front with his present force.

93. Battle of the Thames

BY HENRY M. BRACKENRIDGE (1813)

ON the 5th of October, the pursuit was renewed ;
they captured provisions and ammunition to a con
siderable amount, and reached the place where the
enemy had encamped the night before. Colonel
Wood was now sent forward by the Commander-in-
Chief, to reconnoitre the British and Indian forces ;

2Q2

The Army

[No. 93

and he very soon returned with information, that they
had made a stand a few miles distant, and were ready
for action. General Proctor had drawn up his regu
lar forces across a narrow strip of land covered with
beech-trees, flanked on one side by a swamp and on
the other by the river ; their left rested on the river
supported by the larger portion of their artillery, and
their right on the swamp. Beyond the swamp, and
between it and another morass still further to the

UNDER FIRE.

right, were the Indians under Tecumseh. This posi
tion was skilfully chosen by Proctor, with regard to
locality, and the character of his troops ; but he com
mitted an irreparable oversight in neglecting to fortify
his front by a ditch, and in drawing up his troops
" in open order, that is, with intervals of three or four
feet between the files " - a mode of array which
could not resist a charge of cavalry. His whole force
consisted of about eight hundred regular soldiers and
two thousand Indians.

NO. 93] Battle of the Thames 293

The American troops, amounting to something
more than three thousand men, were now disposed
in order of battle. General Harrison had at first
ordered the mounted men to form in two lines, op
posite to the Indians ; but he soon observed that the
underwood here was too close for cavalry to act with
any effect. He was aware of the egregious error
committed by Proctor as above mentioned, and well
knew the dexterity of backwoodsmen in riding, and
in the use of the rifle, in forest ground, so he immedi
ately determined that one battalion of the mounted
regiment should charge on the British regulars. The
other was left to confront the Indians. The requisite
arrangements were made, and the army had moved
forward but a short distance, when the enemy fired.
This was the signal for our cavalry to charge ; and,
although the men and horses in the front of the col
umn at first recoiled, they soon recovered themselves,
and the whole body dashed through the enemy with
irresistible force. Instantly forming in the rear of
the British, they poured on them a destructive fire,
and were about to make a second charge, when the
British officers, finding it impossible, from the nature
of the ground and the panic which prevailed, to form
their broken ranks, immediately surrendered.

On the left, the battle was begun by Tecumseh
with great fury. The galling fire of the Indians did
not check the advance of the American columns ;
but the charge was not successful, from the miry
character of the soil and the number and closeness
of the thickets which covered it. In these circum
stances, Colonel Johnson ordered his men to dis
mount, and leading them up a second time, succeeded
after a desperate contest in breaking through the

The Army [NO. 93

line of the Indians and gaining their rear. Notwith
standing this, and that the colonel now directed his
men to fight them in their own mode, the Indians
were unwilling to yield the day ; they quickly col
lected their principal strength on the right and at
tempted to penetrate the line of infantry. At first
they made an impression on it ; but they were soon
repulsed by the aid of a regiment of Kentucky volun
teers led on by the aged Shelby, who had been posted at
the angle formed by the front line and Desha's division.
The combat now raged with increasing fury ; the
Indians, to the number of twelve or fifteen hundred,
seeming determined to maintain their ground to the
last. The terrible voice of Tecumseh could be dis
tinctly heard, encouraging his warriors; and although
beset on every side except that of the morass, they
fought with more determined courage than they had
ever before exhibited. An incident, however, now
occurred which eventually decided the contest. The
gallant Colonel Johnson having rushed towards the
spot where the Indians, clustering around their un
daunted chief, appeared resolved to perish by his side,
his uniform, and the white horse which he rode,
rendered him a conspicuous object. In a moment
his holsters, dress and accoutrements were pierced
with a hundred bullets, and he fell to the ground
severely wounded. Tecumseh, meanwhile, was killed
in the melee. After the rescue and removal of the
wounded colonel, the command devolved on Major
Thompson. The Indians maintained the fight for
more than an hour ; but when they no longer heard
the voice of their great captain, they at last gave way
on all sides. Near the spot where this struggle took
place, thirty Indians and six whites were found dead.

NO. 93] Battle of the Thames 295

Thus fell Tecumseh, one of the most celebrated
warriors that ever raised the tomahawk against us ;
and with him faded the last hope of our Indian ene
mies. This untutored man was the determined foe
of civilization, and had for years been laboring to
unite all the Indian tribes in resisting the progress
of our settlements to the westward. Had such a man
opposed the European colonists on their first arrival,
this continent might still have been a wilderness.
Tecumseh fell respected by his enemies as a great
and magnanimous chief. Although he seldom took
prisoners in battle, he was merciful to those who had
been taken by others ; and, at the defeat of Dudley,
actually put to death a chief whom he found engaged
in the work of massacre. He had been in almost
every engagement with the whites since Harmer's
defeat in 1791, although at his death he scarcely ex
ceeded forty years of age. Tecumseh had received
the stamp of greatness from the hand of nature ;
and had his lot been cast in a different state of soci
ety, he would have shone as one of the most dis
tinguished of men. He was endowed with a powerful
mind, and with the soul of a hero. There was an
uncommon dignity in his countenance and manners :
by the former he could easily be discovered, even
after death, among the rest of the slain, for he wore
no insignia of distinction. When girded with a silk
sash, and told by General Proctor that he was made
a brigadier-general in the British service for his
conduct at Brownstown and Magagua, he refused
the title. Born without title to command, such was
his native greatness, that every tribe yielded submis
sion to him at once, and no one ever disputed his
precedence. Subtle and fierce in war, he was pos-

2g6

The Army

[No. 94

sessed of uncommon eloquence. Invective was his
chief merit, as we had frequent occasion to experi
ence. He gave a remarkable instance of its power
in the reproaches which he applied to General Proctor,
in a speech delivered a few days before his death ; a
copy of which was found among the papers of the
British officers. His form was uncommonly elegant.
His stature was about six feet, and his limbs were
perfectly proportioned.

In this engagement, the British loss was nineteen
regulars killed, fifty wounded, and about six hundred
taken prisoners. The Indians left one hundred and
twenty on the field. The American loss, in killed
and wounded, amounted to upwards of fifty. Several
pieces of brass cannon, the trophies of our Revolu
tion, and which had been surrendered by Hull at
Detroit, were once more restored to our country.
General Proctor had basely deserted his troops as
soon as the charge was made ; and though hotly
pursued, was enabled, by means of swift horses and
his knowledge of the country, to escape down the
Thames. His carriage with his private papers, how
ever, was taken.

94. Campaigning on the Niagara

BY CAPTAIN SAMUEL WHITE (1814)

BEFORE day-break on the morning of the fifth, it
was ascertained that the Colonel to whom orders
had been sent by General Porter to supply the troops
with three days' provisions, had neglected that neces
sary precaution ; the consequence was, that a boat

NO. 94] Niagara Campaign 297

had to be despatched to Buffalo with an order for the state

provisions, which, however, did not reach us until me^Vinva-

about two o'clock in the day, when we were supplied sionofthe

with a couple of biscuits each, being the first which Britishonthe

r ' 3 northern

a majority of us had eaten that day. At four o clock frontier.

we came in view of the encampment of our regular White was a

troops, and halted. We had not been many minutes mSSTin

at rest before a requisition was made for volunteers Adams

to turn out and drive off the hostile Indians who had ^SSdat^

been firing on our pickets. Fatigued as we were, Buffalo in

having traveled that day about eighteen miles with- ^meforthe

& . . . J . Niagara

out rations, it is not surprising that not much alac- campaign,
rity was shown by the men to become of the party. butwas
Lieutenant Gilleland, Ensign Graff, the surgeon of
the volunteers, and myself, laid aside our swords, and the battle of
borrowing rifles, volunteered as privates; about three h^de^
hundred of the volunteers of our own regiment also scribed.
came forward, and these were strengthened by sev
eral hundred Indians, the whole under the command
of General Porter, Colonel Bull, and Major Galloway.
I had eaten nothing except one biscuit from the time
I had my dinner the day before at Buffalo, and had
even given away the balance of my store, expecting
to get a good supper that evening ; but I was doomed
to be mistaken.

Orders were issued that every white man who went
out under General Porter should leave his hat, and go
uncovered. The Indians tied up their heads with
pieces of white muslin, and it was really diverting to
see them making their preparations for battle. After
having tied up their heads, which process must have
consumed at least fifty yards of fine muslin, they
painted their faces, making red streaks above their
eyes and foreheads ; they then went to old logs and

298 The Army [NO. 94

burnt stumps, and spitting upon their hands, rubbed
them upon the burnt part, until they were perfectly
black, when they drew their fingers down their
cheeks, leaving large black streaks ; after this prep
aration they were ready for action or march. We
proceeded in single file through a -lane to our left,
and in the course of half an hour came in contact
with the enemy, who were posted in the woods on
our right, and completely concealed from our obser
vation. Immediately upon our entering a long nar
row path, they opened upon us with a pretty brisk
fire ; we faced to the right, and pressing forward,
put them to rout. They continued their flight and
we pursued them, keeping up a smart fire, which,
from the manner of the position, did considerable
damage, until they drew us into rather a perilous
situation.

The whole British army had crossed the bridge at
Chippewa, and drawn up their forces under cover of
a piece of woods, near the Niagara River, and run
ning parallel with the Chippewa Creek, directly across
the creek, where the British batteries commanded the
same position. Driving the Indians rapidly through
the woods, we at length came in full contact with the
British regular line, which, in conjunction with the
batteries, opened a most tremendous fire. From
the clouds of dust and heavy firing, General Brown
concluded that the entire force of the British was
in motion, and gave orders to General Scott to
advance with his brigade and Towson's artillery,
and meet the enemy on the plain in front of the
American camp. In a few minutes Scott was in
close action with a far superior force of regulars.
Major Jessup, commanding the battalion on the

NO. 94] Niagara Campaign, 299

left flank, finding himself pressed both in front and
rear, and his men falling fast, ordered his battal
ion to support arms and advance, which bold
order, in the midst of the enemy's hottest fire, was
obeyed with a promptness which did them honour.
Having advanced within twenty payees of the enemy's
line, they were ordered to level and fire, causing such
havoc in the enemy's line as forced them to retreat.
About this time also one of our hot shot fell into the
enemy's magazine and blew it up. This occurrence
silenced their artillery ; the whole British force fell
back, and being closely pressed by the American
troops, retreated in confusion to their entrenchment,
about a quarter of a mile distant. General Brown
immediately ordered the ordnance to be brought up
with the intention of forcing the works, but upon
more mature reflection, and by the advice of his
officers, he was induced to order the forces back
to camp.

In this engagement, which resulted so disastrously
to the British, a considerable portion of the army,
though burning for the conflict, had not an oppor
tunity of coming into action. The conquerors of the
veterans of France, were, in fact, defeated by a de
tachment from the American army. The only troops
engaged on the part of General Brown, were Scott's
brigade, and the Pennsylvania volunteers, commanded
by Porter. The conduct of these men was heroic
in the extreme : wherever they directed their fire or
pointed their bayonets, the boasted " conquerors of
the peninsula " fell or fled ; the volunteers, in par
ticular, manifested all the coolness and bravery of
regular troops. Such was the punishment they re
ceived in this engagement, that, although battle was

300 The ^4rmy [NO. 95

offered them again on their own terms, they shrunk
from its acceptance.

The loss of the enemy was nearly six hundred
killed, as was ascertained some time afterwards,
although they were never willing to acknowledge it
so great ; they removed, however, off the field,' nearly
five hundred wounded men before their retreat, and
the loss in the woods of the Canadian militia, by our
scouting party, was upwards of eighty killed. It was
not known how many Indians fell, but their loss must
have been very great. When our scouting party re
turned, there were but twenty men missing, five of
of that number were prisoners, four whites and one
Indian.

95. The American Flag

BY JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE (1818)

WHEN Freedom from her mountain height,
Unfurl'd her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night,
And set the stars of glory there !
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
The milky baldric of the skies,
And striped its pure, celestial white
With streakings of the morning light ;
Then from his mansion in the sun,
She call'd her eagle bearer down,
And gave into his mighty hand
The symbol of her chosen land.

Majestic monarch of the cloud !
Who rear'st aloft thy regal form,

NO. g5] The American Flag 301

To hear the tempest trumping loud,
And see the lightning-lances driven,
When stride the warriors of the storm,
And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven !
Child of the sun ! to thee 'tis given

WHERE THE FIRST AMERICAN FLAG WAS MADE.

To guard the banner of the free,
To hover in the sulphur smoke,
To ward away the battle stroke,
And bid its blendings shine afar,
Like rainbows on the cloud of war,
The harbingers of victory.

302 The Army [NO. 95

Flag of the brave ! Thy folds shall fly,
The sign of hope and triumph high !
When speaks the signal trumpet tone,
And the long line comes gleaming on,
(Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet,
Has dimm'd the glistening bayonet,)
Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn,
To where thy meteor glories burn,
And, as his springing steps advance,
Catch war and vengeance from the glance !
And when the cannon-mouthings loud,
Heave in wild wreaths the battle-shroud,
And gory sabres rise and fall,
Like shoots of flame on midnight pall, —
There shall thy victor glances glow,
And cowering foes shall sink beneath
Each gallant arm that strikes below
That lovely messenger of death !

Flag of the seas ! on ocean's wave,
Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave,
When death, careering on the gale,
Sleeps darkly round the bellied sail,
And frighted waves rush wildly back
Before the broadside's reeling rack, —
The dying wanderer of the sea
Shall look, at once, to heaven and thee,
And smile to see thy splendors fly,
In triumph o'er his closing eye.

Flag of the free heart's only home !
By angel hands to valor given, -
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,
And all thy hues were born in heaven !

NO. 96] Under Fire 303

For ever float that standard sheet !
Where breathes the foe that stands before us
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us !

96. A Hot Fight in front of the
American Lines

BY JOHN HENRY COOKE (1814)

WE had run the gauntlet, from the left to the centre
in front of the American lines, under a cross fire, in
hopes of joining in the assault, and had a fine view of
the sparkling of the musketry, and the liquid flashes
from the cannon. Melancholy to relate, all at once
many soldiers were met wildly rushing out of the
dense clouds of smoke lighted up by a sparkling sheet
of fire, which hovered over the ensanguined field.
Regiments were shattered, broke, and dispersed, all
order was at an end. The dismal spectacle was seen
of the dark shadows of men, like skirmishers, break
ing out of the clouds of smoke, which slowly and
majestically rolled along the even surface of the field.
So astonished was I at such a panic, that I said to
a retiring soldier, " Have we or the Americans at
tacked ? " for I had never seen troops in such a hurry
without being followed. " No," replied the man, with
the countenance of despair and out of breath, as he
run along, "we attacked, Sir." For still the rever
beration was so intense towards the great wood, that
any one would have thought the great fighting was
going on there instead of immediately in front

304 The Army • [NO. 96

Lieutenant Duncan Campbell, of our regiment, was
seen to our left running about in circles, first stag
gering one way, then another, and at length fell help
lessly upon his face on the sod. While being borne
insensible to the rear, he still clutched the" hilt of his
sword with a convulsive grasp, the blade of which
was broken off close at the hilt with grape-shot. He
lived only a few days.

The first officer we met was Lieutenant-colonel
Stovin, of the staff, who was unhorsed, without his
hat, and bleeding down the left side of his face. He
at first thought that the two hundred men were the
whole regiment, and he said, " Forty-third, you men
must save the day ! " Lieutenant-colonel Smith, of
the rifles and one of Packenham's staff, then rode up
at full gallop from the right, and said to me, " Did
you ever see such a scene ? There is nothing left
but the Seventh and Forty-third ! Just draw up here
for a few minutes to show front that the repulsed
troops may re-form." The chances now were, as the
greater portion of the actually attacking corps were
stricken down, and the remainder dispersed, that the
Americans would become the assailants. The ill-fated
rocket was discharged before the British troops moved
on ; the consequence was, that every American gun
was warned by such a silly signal to be laid on the
parapets ready to be discharged with the fullest effects.

The misty field of battle was now inundated with
wounded officers and soldiers who were going to the
rear from the right, left, and centre ; in fact, little
more than one thousand soldiers were left unscathed
out of the three thousand that attacked the American
lines, and they fell like the very blades of grass be
neath the scythe of the mower. Packenham was killed,

NO. 96] Under Fire 305

Gibbs was mortally wounded, and his brigade dis
persed like the dust before the whirlwind, and Keane
was wounded. The command of His Majesty's forces
at this critical juncture now fell to Major-general Lam
bert, the only general left, who was in reserve with
his fine brigade.

For five hours the enemy plied us with grape and
round shot ; some of the wounded lying in the mud
or on the wet grass, managed to crawl away; but
every now and then some unfortunate man was lifted
off the ground by round shot, and lay killed or man
gled. During the tedious hours we remained in front,
it was necessary to lie on the ground, to cover our-

A FLINT LOCK OF l8l2.

selves from the projectiles. An officer of our regi
ment was in reclining posture, when grape-shot passed
through both his knees ; at first he sank back faintly,
but at length opening his eyes and looking at his
wounds, he said, " Carry me away, I am chilled to
death." As he was hoisted on the men's shoulders,
more round and grape-shot passed his head ; taking
off his cap, he waved it ; and after many narrow es
capes got out of range, suffered amputation of both
legs, but died of his wounds on board ship, after en
during all the pain of the surgical operation, and pass
ing down the lake in an open boat.

A tree, about two feet in diameter and fifteen in
height, with a few scattered branches at the top, was
the only object to break the monotonous scene. This

306

The Army

[No. 97

tree was near the right of our regiment : the Ameri
cans, seeing some persons clustering around it, fired
a thirty-two pound shot, which struck the tree exactly
in the centre, and buried itself in the trunk with a
loud concussion. Curiosity prompted some of us to
take a hasty inspection of it, and I could clearly see
the rusty ball within the tree. I thrust my arm in a
little above the elbow-joint, and laid hold of it; it was
truly amusing between the intervals of firing the can
non, to witness the risks continually run by the offi
cers to take a peep at this shot. Owing to this
circumstance, the vicinity of the tree became rather a
hot birth ; but the American gunners failed to hit it a
second time, although some balls passed very near on
each side, and for about an hour it was a source of
excessive jocularity to us. In the middle of the day
a flag of truce was sent by General Lambert to Gen
eral Jackson, to be allowed to bury the dead, which
was acceded to by the latter on certain conditions.

Pirogues
originally
were canoes
hollowed
from the

97. Canadian Camps and Battles

BY ELIAS DARNALL (1812)

THE weather is excessively cold; the ice has
stopped the navigation of the river, so that the plan
of going to the Rapids by water is entirely frustrated;
we had prepared about sixty pirogues for the voyage,
which will be left here for our successors.

The General has ordered the commandants of
regiments to cause each company to be provided
with a sufficient number of sleds to convey their
baggage to the Rapids. It is said these sleds are

NO. 97] In Canada 307

to be pulled by the men, as we have not a horse trunk of a
in camp able to pull an empty sled. A little flour tree< They

. were later

came to camp once more, to-day, quarter-rations of developed
that article were issued, which was welcomed by re- into a sort

. . . , «-r- i i of flat-bot-

joicmg throughout the camp. Two days later Cap- tomed ferry-
tain Hickman returned with joyful news — that we boat, as
should in a short time be supplied with flour. The ^1°^
deficiency in this article had produced serious conse- selection.
quences in the army. We have here been exposed
to numberless difficulties, as well as deprived of the
common necessities of life ; and what made these
things operate more severely was, all hopes of obtain
ing any conquest was entirely abandoned. Obstacles
had emerged in the path to victory, which must have
appeared unsurmountable to every person endowed
with common sense. The distance to Canada, the
unpreparedness of the army, the scarcity of pro
visions, and the badness of the weather, show that
Maiden cannot be taken in the remaining part of
our time. And would it not have been better if this
army had been disbanded ? Our sufferings at this
place have been greater than if we had been in a
severe battle. More than one hundred lives have
been lost owing to our bad accommodations ! The
sufferings of about three hundred sick at a time, who
are exposed to the cold ground and deprived of
every nourishment, are sufficient proofs of our
wretched condition. The camp had become a loath
some place. The hope of being one day relieved
from these unnecessary sufferings affords some relief.
We received this evening a supply of flour, and
have been delivered from a state of starvation. It
being Christmas eve, just after dark a number of
guns were fired in quick succession ; the whole army

308 The Army [NO. 97

was ordered to parade in order of battle; strict orders
were given to suppress the firing. About an hour
before day the firing commenced again ; the army
was again paraded and strict orders given, threaten
ing to punish the offenders.

We are now about commencing one of the most
serious marches ever performed by the Americans,
destitute in a measure of clothes, shoes, and pro
visions, — the most essential articles necessary for
the existence and preservation of the human species
in this world, and more particularly in this climate.
Three sleds are prepared for each company, each to
be pulled by a pack-horse, which has been without
food for two weeks, except brush, and will not be
better fed while in our service. Probably the most
of these horses never had harness on, but the pre
sumption is they will be too tame ; we have, however,
prepared harness out of green hides.

After nearly three months' preparation for this ex
pedition, we commenced our march in great splendor;
our elegant equipage cast a brilliant lustre on the
surrounding objects as it passed ! Our clothes and
blankets looked as if they had never been acquainted
with water, but intimately with dirt, soot and smoke ;
in fact, we have become acquainted with one much
despised in Kentucky, under whose government we
are obliged to live, whose name is "Poverty." We
marched six miles and encamped near Colonel's
regiment, which marched yesterday ; the sick were
left at No. Three, with a company from each regi
ment as a guard.

We started early, in order to get there before
Colonel Elliott ; after travelling fifteen miles, mostly
on ice, we received information of the enemy being

NO. 97] In Canada 309

there waiting for us ; we were then within three miles
of Frenchtown ; we proceeded with no other view
than to conquer or die. When we advanced in sight
of the town and were about a quarter of a mile from
it, the British saluted us by firing a piece of cannon;
they fired it three times, but no injury was sustained.
During this time we formed the line of battle, and
raising a shout, advanced on them briskly ; they soon
commenced the firing of their small arms ; but this
did not deter us from a charge. We advanced close
and let loose on them. They gave way, and we soon
had possession of a village without the loss of a man.
Three were slightly wounded. Twelve of their pris
oners were scalped and one prisoner taken before
they got to the woods. In retreating they kept up
some firing.

We pursued them half a mile to the woods, which
were brushy and suited to their mode of fighting. As
we advanced, they were fixing themselves behind
logs and trees to the best advantage. Our troops
rushed on them resolutely and gave them Indian
play, took advantage of trees, and kept them retreat
ing a mile and a half in the woods. During this
time a heavy fire was kept up on both sides. At
length, after a battle of three hours and five minutes,
we were obliged to stop the pursuit on account of the
approach of night, and retire to the village. We
collected our wounded and carried them to the vil
lage, leaving our dead on the ground. In this action
the Kentuckians displayed great bravery, after being
much fatigued with marching on the ice.

The next morning a party was sent to the battle
ground to bring in the dead, which were found
scalped and stripped. In going over the battle-

3 i o The Army [NO. 9s

ground great signs were seen (by the blood and
where they had been dragged through the snow) of
a considerable loss on the part of the enemy. Two
of the wounded died. The British left a considera
ble quantity of provisions and some store goods,
which answered us a valuable purpose.

98. Tall Americans

BY WINFIELD SCOTT (1812)

Two bearers of flags of truce had been despatched
to the British commander, but there was no return
and no cessation of hostilities. It was concluded
that they had been killed or captured by the Indians.
Captains Totten and Gibson each volunteered to
make a third attempt, but as bearing a flag had
become a forlorn service, Lieutenant-Colonel Scott
assumed the duty to himself, and took with him his
gallant comrades, Totten and Gibson. Being uncom
monly tall and in a splendid uniform, it was thought
he had the best chance of being respected by the
savages, who were under but little control. The
party had to pass down, along the margin of the
river some hundreds of yards, to find an easy ascent.
Several shots had been fired at them, before they
turned up to the left, when two Indians, after firing,
sprang from a covert and seized the party. A deadly
combat impended ; but a detachment of regulars,
headed by an officer, rushed to the rescue, and con
ducted the flag to the British commander, General
Sheaffe. His first and second attempts to stop the

NO. 98] Tall Americans 311

Indian fire on the American under the precipice
proved unsuccessful, and Lieutenant-Colonel Scott
demanded to be escorted back to his countrymen,
that he might share their fate. He was prevailed
upon to wait another trial, which succeeding, a formal
surrender was made on terms honorable to all par
ties, and the prisoners were put in march for the
village of Newark (since Niagara), at the mouth of
the river.

On reaching the village of Newark, the American
officers were lodged in a small inn after being di
vested of their swords, which were temporarily
stacked under the staircase in the entry. A strong
guard was at hand, and sentries were posted. In a
few minutes a servant said that there were persons at
the front door who desired to see the tall Americans.
Lieutenant-Colonel Scott, passing through several
doors, found, on reaching the entry, that his visitors
were the same two Indians met by him some hours
before when bearing the flag of truce. Captain
Jacobs, one of them, a man of uncommon stature and
power, speaking but little English, was interpreted
by his companion.

The professed object of the Indians was to see if
they had not in the several combats of the day hit
the prisoner before them — each alleging that he had
deliberately fired at him three or four times from no
great distance. Their design, however, was no doubt
sinister. All the surviving Indians were exceedingly
exasperated at the severe loss their tribes had just
sustained. Jacobs, accordingly to begin the fray,
seized the prisoner rudely by the arm and attempted
to turn him round to examine his back. The savage
was indignantly thrown against the wall, when both

312 The Army [NO. 9s

assailants, placing their hands on their knives and
hatchets, exclaimed: "We kill you now!" It was
an awful moment for the assailed. There was no
witness or help at hand. The sentinel near the door
who had improperly admitted the Indians, was not in
view, and perhaps indifferent as to consequences.
God and his own stout heart must save the American
from instant butchery.

With one mighty spring he seized the hilt of a
sword with an iron scabbard (easily drawn), then
springing back he faced the enemy and occupied the
narrow space between the staircase and the opposite
wall, but far enough advanced to allow a free use of
his sword over the depressed balustrade. In this
strong position he could not be attacked by two
assailants at once, and he was sure to fell the fore
most, though he might be assassinated by the second
before he could recover his sword.

At this critical moment — the parties standing at
bay, but in act to strike — Captain Coffin, nephew
and aide-de-camp of General Sheaffe, entered to con
duct some of the prisoners to the general's quarters,
where they were invited to dine. The scene spoke
for itself. The captain instantly seized Jacobs by
the collar with one hand, holding a cocked pistol in
the other. The gallant aide-de-camp had just time
to call out " The guard ! " when a sergeant and squad
rushed in and marched off the savages as prisoners.
It required a strong escort to conduct the dinner
guests in safety to and from the general's quarters,
for the village swarmed with exasperated Indians.

NO. 99] Adams and Liberty 313
99. Adams and Liberty

BY ROBERT TREAT PAINE (1829)

YE sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought

For those rights, which unstained from your sires

had descended,
May you long taste the blessings your valor has

bought,

And your sons reap the soil which their fathers
defended.

'Mid the reign of mild peace,
May your nation increase,

With the glory of Rome, and the wisdom of Greece ;
And ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its
waves.

In a clime, whose rich vales feed the marts of the

world,

Whose shores are unshaken by Europe's commo
tion,

The trident of commerce should never be hurl'd,
To incense the legitimate powers of the ocean.
But should pirates invade,
Though in thunder array'd,

Let your cannon declare the free charter of trade.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.

The fame of our arms, of our laws the mild sway,
Had justly ennobled our nation in story,

Till the dark clouds of faction obscured our young

day,
And enveloped the sun of American glory.

314 e ^rmy [NO. 99

But let traitors be told,
Who their country have sold,
And barter'd their God for his image in gold,
That ne'er will the sons, &c.

Tis the fire of the flint, each American warms,

Let Rome's haughty victors beware of collision,
Let them bring all the vassals of Europe in arms,
We're a world by ourselves, and disdain a division.
While with patriot pride,
To our laws we're allied,
No foe can subdue us, no faction divide,
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.

Our mountains are crown'd with imperial oak;

Whose roots, like our liberties, ages have nourish'd ;
But long e'er our nation submits to the yoke,

Not a tree shall be left on the field where it
flourished.

Should invasion impend,
Every grove would descend,

From the hill-tops, they shaded, our shores to de
fend.

For ne'er shall the sons, &c.

Let our patriots destroy Anarch's pestilent worm ;
Lest our liberty's growth should be check'd by

corrosion ;
Then let clouds thicken round us ; we heed not the

storm ;

Our realms fear no shock, but the earth's own
explosion.

NO. 99] Adams and Liberty 315

Foes assail us in vain,
Though their fleets bridge the main,
For our altars and laws with our lives we'll main
tain.

For ne'er shall the sons, &c.

Should the tempest of war overshadow our land,
Its bolts could ne'er rend freedom's temple asun
der ;
For, unmoved, at its portal, would Washington

stand,

And repulse, with his breast, the assaults of the
thunder !

His sword from the sleep
Of its scabbard would leap,

And conduct, with its point, every flash to the deep !
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.

Let fame to the world sound America's voice ;

No intrigues can her sons from their governments

sever ;

Her pride is her Adams; her laws are his choice,
And shall flourish, till liberty slumbers for ever.
Then unite heart and hand,
Like Leonidas' band,

And swear to the God of the ocean and land,
That ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,
While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its
waves.

PART VIII

AT SCHOOL

100. An Ambassador's Letters to
his Daughters

BY THOMAS JEFFERSON AND MARTHA JEFFERSON (1785-87)

MY DEAR POLLY — I have not received a letter From
from you since I came to France. If you knew Thomas

J . Jefferson,

how much I love you and what pleasure the receipt envoy of the
of your letters gave me at Philadelphia, you would United states
have written to me, or at least have told your aunt to hirsan°
what to write, and her goodness would have induced daughter
her to take the trouble of writing it. I wish so much ^aar{nwho
to see you, that I have desired your uncle and aunt America.
to send you to me. I know, my dear Polly, how
sorry you will be, and ought to be, to leave them and
your cousins ; but your sister and myself can not live
without you, and after a while we will carry you back
again to see your friends in Virginia. In the mean
time you shall be taught here to play on the harpsi
chord, to draw, to dance, to read and talk French,
and such other things as will make you more worthy
of the love of your friends ; but above all things, by
our care and love of you, we will teach you to love us
more than you will do if you stay so far from us.

317

3i8

At School

[No. 100

I have had no opportunity since Colonel Le
Maire went, to send you any thing ; but when you
come here you shall have as many dolls and play
things as you want for yourself, or to send to your
cousins whenever you shall have opportunities. 1
hope you are a very good girl, that you love your
uncle and aunt very much, and are very thankful to
them for all their goodness to you ; that you never
suffer yourself to be angry with anybody, that you

MONTICELLO.

give your playthings to those who want them, that
you do whatever anybody desires of you that is right,
that you never tell stories, never beg for any thing,
mind your books and your work when your aunt tells
you, never play but when she permits you, nor go
where she forbids you ; remember, too, as a constant
charge, not to go out without your bonnet, because it
will make you very ugly, and then we shall not love
you so much. If you always practice these lessons
we shall continue to love you as we do now, and it is

NO. 100] Polly "Jefferson 319

impossible to love you any more. We shall hope to
have you with us next summer, to find you a very
good girl, and to assure you of the truth of our
affection for you. Adieu, my dear child. Yours
affectionately,

TH. JEFFERSON.

DEAR PAPA — I long to see you, and hope that From Mary
you and sister Patsy are well ; give my love to her Jef,fers°n,

to her father.

and tell her that I long to see her, and hope that you
and she will come very soon to see us. I hope, that
you will send me a doll. I am very sorry that you
have sent for me. I don't want to go to France, I
had rather stay with Aunt Eppes. Aunt Carr, Aunt
Nancy and Cousin Polly Carr are here. Your most
happy and dutiful daughter,

POLLY JEFFERSON.

Being disappointed in my expectation of receiving From
a letter from my dear papa, I have resolved to break Martha
so painful a silence by giving you an example that I then^a'
hope you will follow, particularly as you know how Convent
much pleasure your letters give me. I hope your S
wrist is better, and I am inclined to think that your
voyage is rather for your pleasure than your health ;
however, I hope it will answer both purposes. I will
now tell you how I go on with my masters. I have
begun a beautiful tune, done a very pretty landscape
— a little man playing on the violin — and begun an
other beautiful landscape. I go on slowly with my
Livy, it being in such ancient Italian that I can not
read without my master, and very little with him
even. As for the dancing-master, I intend to leave
him off as soon as my month is finished. Tell me if
you are still determined that I shall dine at the

3 2 o At School [NO. ioo

abbess's table. If you are, I shall at the end of my
quarter. Adieu, my dear papa. I am afraid you
will not be able to read my scrawl, but I have not
the time of copying it over again ; and therefore I
must beg your indulgence, and assure you of the ten
der affection of yours,

M. JEFFERSON.
Pray write often, and long letters.

MY DEAR PAPA — Though the knowledge of your
health gave me the greatest pleasure, yet I own I
was not a little disappointed in not receiving a let
ter from you. However, I console myself with the
thought of having one very soon, as you promised to
write to me every week. Until now you have not
kept your word the least in the world, but I hope you
will make up for your silence by writing me a fine,
long letter by the first opportunity. Titus Livius
puts me out of my wits. I can not read a word by
myself, and I read of it very seldom with my master ;
however, I hope I shall soon be able to take it up
again. All my other masters go on much the same —
perhaps better. Every body here is very well, par
ticularly Madame L'Abbesse, who has visited almost
a quarter of the new building — a thing that she has
not done for two or three years before now. I have
not heard anything of my harpsichord, and I am
afraid it will not come before your arrival. I go on
pretty well with Thucydides, and I hope I shall very
soon finish it. I expect Mr. Short every instant for
my letter, therefore I must leave you. Adieu, my
dear papa ; be assured you are never a moment absent
from my thoughts, and believe me to be, your most
affectionate child,

M. JEFFERSON.

NO. 101] Love Feast 321

1 01. The Children's Love Feast

BY COLONEL JOHN MAY (1788)

Sunday, i7th. Rose this morning at 3 o'clock, and
went fourteen miles to breakfast at Bethlehem. We
were received by the brotherhood in the most hospi
table manner, especially by Mr. Heckewelder, who
was for several years a missionary amongst the Mora- The Mora
vian Indians. He paid particular attention to us and vians were

i . ,. people driven

invited us to go to meeting with him. I accordingly from central
went with him. To give a just description of this Europe be-

i i'c i i 111 • f i i i -i-i cause of their

beautiful and agreeable day is far beyond my ability. re]jgious
When I entered the hall where they were worship- opinions.
ing, it struck me with a pleasing amazement to be- ^^^^
hold at one view upward of sixty little beautiful girls, Moravians
seated in regular order, — all clad in white muslin or ^me ,to
cambric, each with red ribbon in a large bow round many of'
her neck, with snug close caps ; and also as many of !hem settlir>g
an older order, and other two classes older still, — all Onf Pennsyi^
in white, and all chanting their Maker's praise to the vania. They
music of an elegant organ. I was all ear, all atten

tion. I could compare such worship to nothing else tiontoChris-
but the worship of the kingdom of heaven ; — they tia™zing the

\ Indians.

appeared to me like the saints, just disburdened
from earth, arrayed in their white robes praising the
Author of Goodness.

I went to my lodgings at noon, in raptures. It
was not long before we had a formal invitation to
attend the love-feast in the afternoon, which was
gladly accepted. I was 'punctual to the time, which
was two o'clock. The observance of a feast of this
sort is a privilege the young misses have every I /th
of August. It happened this year on Sunday. The

322

At School

[No. 102

little ones were more numerous this afternoon than
in the forenoon, and excelled in beauty all that even
a glowing imagination could suggest. After they
had chanted their hymns for about an hour, the great
doors were swung open, and three pairs of maiden
ladies appeared, each pair bringing between them a
basket filled with large cakes, which they handed
round to each miss and elderly lady. Soon after, two
of the brothers came in, and in like manner handed
the cakes to the gentlemen, and then withdrawing.
In a short time, all returned with salvers of excellent
coffee, and handed it round. This ceremony over,
they sung again ; and then there was an anthem,
which rolled off finely, and the assembly broke up.
I was then introduced to the governess, a very polite
and agreeable lady, who waited on us to all the dif
ferent apartments. I was extremely pleased with
the order and regularity of the place, and having
seen about all that was to be seen, returned to my
lodgings.

This piece
shows the
old use of
abbrevia
tion and the
character &.

1 02. Address to the Children of
the North Schools, Boston

BY JEREMY BELKNAP (1780)

DEAR CHILD*, — Your present age is the most
proper season to begin those improvements w11 are to
last through your whole lives. The spring of ye year
is the time for sowing seed ; and youth is the time
for sowing ye seeds of knowledge & virtue in the
human mind. But you must remember that the
growth of seed depends on the quality & disposition
of the ground as much as on the skill & diligence of

NO. 102] Address to the Children 323

the person who sows it ; so the cultivation of your
minds depends as much on yrselvs as on yr instructors.
They may teach, but you must learn. They may
take great pains to instruct you, but unless you dili
gently take heed to their instructions, & fix what they
tell you in yr own minds, all their teaching will profit
you nothing. You see then that much of your im
provement depends on yr own diligence, & it is best
that you should early form a habit of attention & not
suffer yourselves to be unconcerned & thoughtless.
Though it is proper that you should be allowed time
for diversion, yet you must not make a business of
yr diversion, but only use it as a refreshment to
relieve you from the fatigue of study, that you may
go to it again with new relish & spirit. And believe
me, whoever does not enter upon his studies with
spirit will never make any figure as a scholar.

Another thing which I would recommend to you
is, to govern yourselves ; that is, to take such care of
your own conduct as that your schoolmaster may be
relieved of the trouble of governing you. It is the
duty of every person to govern himself; and we
cannot begin too early in life to practise this neces
sary duty. You should therefore learn to restrain
your passions, to curb your tongue, to avoid all occa
sions of quarrelling, & to preserve a decent, sober, &
attentive behaviour at school. This will gain the
love of your master & enable him the more easily to
carry on the work w('h is committed to him. If every
scholar would learn to govern himself, there would
be no need of correction or expulsion, the ferule &
cowskin would be thrown by, & the whole business
of the school would be confined to instruction &
learning.

324 -At School [NO. io3

And let me add, this is now become a matter of
necessity ; for by the new regulations wdl have been
introduced into the schools, you see that the number
of scholars is increased, & the duty of the masters
is increased with it. Let it therefore be your care as
much as possible to lighten their burden with respect
to government, & you will reap the benefit of it in
having their time wholly devoted to the care of your
learning. But there is a farther advantage to be
gained by it ; for if you learn to govern yourselves
while young, you will get such a good habit as will
probably remain with you thro' life, & make you
exemplary in all your conduct, so that you will live
usefully in this world & be prepared for the enjoy
ment of God hereafter.

103. The Indian at College

BY PHILIP FRENEAU (1795)

FROM Susquehanna's farthest springs,
Where savage tribes pursue their game,
(His blanket tied with yellow strings,)
A shepherd of the forest came.

Not long before, a wandering priest
Express'd his wish with visage sad —
" Ah, why (he cried) in Satan's waste,
Ah, why detain so fine a lad ?

" In white man's land there stands a town,
Where learning" may be purchased low -
Exchange his blanket for a gown,
And let the lad to college go."

NO. io3] The Indian at College 325

From long debate the council rose,

And viewing Shalum's tricks with joy,

To Cambridge Hall, o'er wastes of snows, Harvard

They sent the copper-color'd boy.

One generous chief a bow supplied,
This gave a shaft, and that a skin ;
The feathers, in vermilion dyed,
Himself did from a turkey win :

Thus dress'd so gay, he took his way
O'er barren hills, alone, alone !
His guide a star, he wander'd far,
His pillow every night a stone.

At last he came, with foot so lame,
Where learned men talk heathen Greek,
And Hebrew lore is gabbled o'er,
To please the muses, — twice a week.

Awhile he writ, awhile he read,
Awhile he conn'd their grammar rules —
(An Indian savage so well bred
Great credit promised to the schools.)

Some thought he would in law excel,
Some said in physic he would shine ;
And one that knew him passing well,
Beheld in him a sound divine.

But those of more discerning eye,
Even then could other prospects show,
And saw him lay his Virgil by,
To wander with his dearer bow.

326 At School [NO. io3

The tedious hours of study spent,
The heavy moulded lecture done,
He to the woods a hunting went,
Through lonely wastes he walk'd, he run.

No mystic wonders fired his mind ;
He sought to gain no learn'd degree,
But only sense enough to find
The squirrel in the hollow tree.

The shady bank, the purling stream,
The woody wild his heart possess'd,
The dewy lawn, his morning dream
In fancy's gayest colors drest.

"And why," he cried. " did I forsake
My native wood for gloomy walls ;
The silver stream, the limpid lake
For musty books, and college halls ?

"A little could my wants supply —
Can wealth and honor give me more ;
Or, will the sylvan god deny
The humble treat he gave before ?

" Where nature's ancient forests grow,
And mingled laurel never fades,
My heart is fix'd and I must go
To die among my native shades."

He spoke, and to the western springs,
(His gown discharged, his money spent,
His blanket tied with yellow strings,)
The shepherd of the forest went

NO. io4] Indian Manners 327

104. The Table Manners of an
Indian Boy

BY ISAAC WELD (1796)

BUT though the Indians, in general, appear so re
served in the presence of strangers, yet the firmness
of their dispositions forbids them from ever appear
ing embarrassed ; they would sit down to table in a
palace, before the first crowned head on the face of
the earth, with as much unconcern as they would sit
down to a frugal meal in one of their own cabins.
They deem it highly becoming in a warrior to ac
commodate his manners to those of the people with
whom he may happen to be, and as they are won
derfully observant, you will seldom perceive any thing
of awkwardness or vulgarity in their behaviour in the
company of strangers. I have seen an Indian, who
had lived in the woods from his infancy, enter a
drawing-room in Philadelphia, full of ladies, with as
much ease and as much gentility as if he had always
lived in the city, and merely from having been told,
preparatory to his entering, the form usually observed
on such occasions. But the following anecdote will
put this matter in a stronger point of view.

Our friend Nekig, the Little Otter, had been in
vited to dine with us at the house of a gentleman at
Detroit, and he came accordingly, accompanied by
his son, a little boy of about nine or ten years of age.
After dinner a variety of fruits were served up, and
amongst the rest some peaches, a dish of which was
handed to the young Indian. He helped himself to
one with becoming propriety; but immediately after-

328

At School [NO. io4

wards he put the fruit to his mouth, and bit a piece
out of it. The father eyed him with indignation,
and spoke some words to him in a low voice, which I
could not understand, but which, on being interpreted
by one of the company, proved to be a warm repri
mand for his having been so deficient in observation
as not to peal his peach, as he saw the gentleman
opposite to him had done. The little fellow was ex
tremely ashamed of himself ; but he quickly retrieved
his error, by drawing a plate towards him, and pealing
the fruit with the greatest neatness.

Some port wine, which he was afterwards helped
to, not being by any means agreeable to his palate,
the little fellow made a wry face, as a child might
naturally do, after drinking it. This called forth an
other reprimand from the father, who told him, that
he despaired of ever seeing him a great man or a good
warrior if he appeared then to dislike what his host
had kindly helped him to. The boy drank the -rest
of his wine with seeming pleasure.

No people are possessed of a greater share of nat
ural politeness than the Indians : they will never in
terrupt you whilst you are speaking ; nor, if you
have told them any thing which they think to be
false, will they bluntly contradict you ; " We dare
say, brother," they will answer, "that you yourself
believe what you tell us to be true ; but it appears
to us so improbable that we cannot give our assent
to it."

NO. io5] College Life in 1820 329
105. College Life in 1820

BY ANDREW PRESTON PEABODY (1820)

THE last sixty years can hardly have wrought
greater changes, anywhere else than in Harvard Col
lege. In my time a student's room was remarkable
chiefly for what it did not have. The feather-bed —
mattresses not having come into general use — was
regarded as a valuable chattel ; but ten dollars would
have been a fair auction-price for all the other con
tents of an average room, which were a pine bedstead,
washstand, table, and desk, a cheap rocking-chair,
and from two to four other chairs of the plainest
fashion, the bed furnishing seats when more were
needed. I doubt whether any fellow-student of mine
owned a carpet. A second-hand-furniture dealer had
a few defaced and threadbare carpets, which he leased
at an extravagant price to certain southern members
of the senior class ; but even Southerners, though
reputed to be fabulously rich, did not aspire to this
luxury till the senior year. Coal was just coming
into use, and had hardly found its way into college.
The students' rooms — several of the recitation-rooms
as well — were heated by open wood-fires. Almost
every room had, too, among its transmittenda, a
cannon-ball supposed to have been derived from the
arsenal, which on very cold days was heated to a red
heat, while at other seasons it was often utilized by
being rolled down-stairs at such time as might most
nearly bisect a proctor's night-sleep. Friction-matches
— according to Faraday the most useful invention
of our age — were not yet. Coals were carefully
buried in ashes over night to start the morning fire ;

33° At School [NO. io5

while in summer, as I have elsewhere said, the even
ing lamp could be lighted only by the awkward, and
often baffling, process of " striking fire " with flint,
steel, and tinder-box.

The student's life was hard. Morning prayers
were in summer at six ; in winter, about half an hour
before sunrise, in a bitterly cold chapel. Thence
half of each class passed into the several recitation-
rooms in the same building (University Hall), and
three-quarters of an hour later the bell rang for a
second set of recitations, including the remaining
half of the students. Then came breakfast, which in
the college commons consisted solely of coffee, hot
rolls, and butter, except when the members of a mess
had succeeded in pinning to the nether surface of the
table, by a two-pronged fork, some slices of meat
from the previous day's dinner. Between ten and
twelve every student attended another recitation or a
lecture. Dinner was at half -past twelve, — a meal
not deficient in quantity, but by no means appetizing
to those who had come from neat homes and well-
ordered tables. There was another recitation in the
afternoon, except on Saturday ; then evening prayers
at six, or in winter at early twilight ; then the even
ing meal, plain as the breakfast, with tea instead of
coffee, and cold bread, of the consistency of wool, for
the hot rolls. After tea the dormitories rang with
song and merriment till the study-bell, at eight in
winter, at nine in summer, sounded the curfew for
fun and 'frolic, proclaiming dead silence throughout
the college premises, under penalty of a visit from
the officer of the entry, and, in case of a serious
offence, of private or public admonition.

This was the life for five days of the week. On

NO. 105] College Life in 1820 331

Sundays all the students were required to be in resi
dence here, not excepting even those whose homes
were in Boston ; and all were required to attend
worship twice each day at the college chapel. On
Saturday alone was there permission to leave Cam
bridge, absence from town at any other time being a
punishable offence. This weekly liberty was taken
by almost every member of college, Boston being the
universal resort ; though seldom otherwise than on

HARVARD COLLEGE IN l82O.

foot, the only public conveyance then being a two-
horse stage-coach, which ran twice a day. But the
holiday could not be indefinitely prolonged. The
students who were not present at evening prayers
were obliged by law to register their names with the
regent before nine o'clock, under a heavy penalty,
which was seldom or never incurred ; for the regent's
book was kept by his freshman, who could generally
be coaxed or bribed to " take no note of time."

332 At School [NO. io5

The price of board in commons was a dollar and
'three-quarters, or, as was then. the uniform expression,
"ten and sixpence." The dining-rooms were on the
first floor of University Hall. College officers and
graduates had a table on an elevated platform at the
head of each room, and the students occupied the
main floor in messes of from eight to ten. The round
windows opening into the halls, and the shelves set
in them, still remaining in some of these rooms, were
designed for the convenience of waiters in bringing
dishes from the kitchen in the basement. That
kitchen, cooking for about two hundred persons, was
the largest culinary establishment of which the New-
England mind then had knowledge or conception.

The professors, as well as the college officers, per
formed police duty as occasion seemed to demand ;
and in case of a general disturbance, which was not
infrequent, the entire faculty were on the chase for
offenders, — a chase seldom successful ; while their
unskilled manoeuvres in this uncongenial service were
wont to elicit, not so much silent admiration, as shouts
of laughter and applause, which they strove in vain
to trace to their source.

The recitations were mere hearings of lessons,
without comment or collateral instruction. They were
generally heard in quarter-sections of a class, the
entire class containing from fifty to sixty members.
The custom was to call on every student in the
section at every recitation. Each teacher was sup
posed to have some system, according to which he
arranged the order of his daily calls. Some, like Dr.
Popkin, openly adopted the direct, some the inverse,
alphabetical order, some the two alternately. As for
the key to the order adopted by the others respec-

NO. io5] College Life in 1820 333

tively, there were, generally, conflicting theories, the
maintenance of which brought into play a keenness of
calculation and a skilful manipulation of data fully
adequate to the solving of deeply involved algebraic
equations. Of course, the endeavor — not always
unsuccessful — was to determine what part of a les
son it was necessary for each individual student to
prepare.

The range of study was much less extensive than
now. Natural history did not then even profess to
be a science, and received very little attention. Chem
istry, under auspices which one does not like to recall,
occupied, and utterly wasted, a small portion of the
senior year. French and Spanish were voluntary
studies, or rather recreations ; for the recitation-room
of the kind-hearted septuagenarian, who had these
languages in charge, was frequented more for amuse
ment than for anything that was taught or learned.
Italian and German were studied in good earnest by
a very few volunteers. There was a great deal of
efficient work in the department of philosophy ; and
the writing of English could not have been cared for
more faithfully, judiciously, and fruitfully, than by
Professor Channing. But the chief labor and the
crowning honor of successful scholarship were in
mathematics and the classics. The mathematical
course extended through the entire four years. In
Greek and Latin, the aim, as has been already stated,
was to reach the actual meaning of the author in
hand, and to render his thought into clear and ele
gant English. This aim was attained, I think, to a
high degree in Latin ; and with the faithful and
searching study of the Latin text, there grew up
inevitably the sort of instinctive knowledge of Latin

334 -d* School [NO. 106

grammar, which one conversant with the best Eng
lish writers acquires of English grammar, without
formal study. Such grammatical tact and skill were
acquired by a respectable number of Latin scholars
in every class ; and the number was by no means
small of those who then formed a life-long taste for
Latin literature, and the capacity of reading it with
all desirable ease and fluency. Greek was studied
with much greater difficulty, an'd, when with similar,
with much less satisfactory and valuable, results. The
best scholars were often discouraged in the pursuit
of knowledge under hindrances so grave, and had
resort to contraband methods of preparation, which
required little labor, and were of no permanent
benefit.

1 06. Fashionable Education

BY REVEREND TIMOTHY DWIGHT (1821)

THE end, proposed by the parents, is to make
their children objects of admiration. The children
of the family are regularly introduced to company
and the praise of the guests is administered to them
as regularly, as the dinner or the tea, is served up.
Commendation is rung through all its changes : and
you may hear, both in concert and succession, " beau
tiful children ; " " fine children ; " " sweet children ; "
"lovely children;" "what a charming family!"
"what a delightful family!" "you are a fine little
fellow;" "you are a sweet little girl;" "My son,
can't you speak one of your pieces before this
good company ? " " Caroline, where is your work ? "
" Susan, bring Miss Caroline's work, and show it to

NO. 106] Fashionable Education 335

that lady ; " " Susan, bring with you the picture,
which she finished last week ; " with many other
things of a similar nature. Were you to pass a
twelve month in this country, and
to believe all that you heard said
by people, not destitute of respecta
bility ; whatever opinion you might
form of the parents, you would
suppose, that the children were a
superiour. race of beings, both in
person and mind.

The means of effectuating this
darling object are the communica
tion of what are called accomplish
ments. The children are solicitously
taught music, dancing, embroidery,
ease, confidence, graceful manners. CLOCK FROM THE OLD
To these may be added what is BANK OF NEW YORK.
called reading, and travelling.

The thoughts of a boy, thus educated, are spent
upon the colour, quality, and fashion, of his clothes,
and upon the several fashions to which his dress is
to be successively conformed ; upon his bow, his
walk, his mode of dancing, his behaviour in com
pany, and his nice observance of the established
rules of good breeding. To mingle without awkward
ness or confusion in that empty, unmeaning chat,
those mere vibrations of the tongue, termed fashion
able conversation, is the ultimate aim of his eloquence;
and to comprehend, and to discuss, without impro
priety the passing topics of the day, the chief object
of his mental exertions. When he reads, he reads
only to appear with advantage in such conversation.
When he acts, he acts only to be admired by those

336

At School [No. 106

who look on. Novels, plays, and other trifles of a
similar nature, are the customary subjects of his in
vestigation. Voyages, travels, biography, and some
times history, limit his severe researches. By such
a mind thinking will be loathed, and study regarded
with terror. In the pursuits, to which it is devoted,
there is nothing to call forth, to try, or to increase,
its strength. Its powers, instead of being raised to
new degrees of energy, are never exercised to the
extent, in which they already exist. His present
capacity cannot be known for want of trial. What
that capacity might become cannot be even conjec
tured. Destitute of that habit of labouring, which
alone can render labour pleasing, or even support
able, he dreads exertion as a calamity. The sight
of a classic author gives him a chill : a lesson in
Locke, or Euclid, a mental ague.

On girls, this unfortunate system induces additional
evils. Miss, the darling of her father and the pride
of her mother, is taught from the beginning to re
gard her dress as a momentous concern. She is
instructed in embroidery merely that she may finish
a piece of work, which from time to time is to be
brought out, to be seen, admired, and praised by
visitors ; or framed, and hung up in the room, to be
still more frequently seen, admired and praised.
She is taught music, only that she may perform a
few times, to excite the same admiration, and ap
plause, for her skill on the forte piano. She is taught
to draw, merely to finish a picture, which, when richly
framed, and ornamented, is hung up, to become an
altar for the same incense.

The reading of girls is regularly lighter than that
of boys. When the standard of reading for boys is

NO. 106] Fashionable Education 337

set too low, that for girls will be proportionally low
ered. Where boys investigate books of sound phi
losophy, and labour in mathematical and logical
pursuits ; girls read history, the higher poetry, and
judicious discourses in morality, and religion. When
the utmost labour of boys is bounded by history,
biography, and the pamphlets of the day : girls sink
down to songs, novels, and plays.

Of this reading what, let me ask, are the conse
quences ? By the first novel which she reads, she
is introdued into a world, literally new. Instead of
houses, inhabited by mere men, women and children,
she is presented with a succession of splendid palaces,
and gloomy castles inhabited by tenants, half human
and half angelic, or haunted by downright fiends.
Every thing in the character and circumstances, of
these beings comes at the wish, or the call of the
enchanter. Whatever can supply their wants, suit
their wishes, or forward, or frustrate, their designs,
is regularly at hand. The heroes are as handsome,
as dignified, as brave, as generous, as affectionate, as
faithful, and as accomplished, as he supposes will
satisfy the demands of his readers. At the same
time, they have always a quantum sufficit of money :
or, if not, some relation, dies at the proper time, and
leaves them an ample supply. Every heroine is,
also a compound of all that is graceful and lovely.
Her person is fashioned " by the hand of harmony."
Her complexion outvies the snow, and shames the rose.

I know, that this education is expressly attempted
with a view to superiour refinement : but it is not
a refinement of the taste, the understanding, or the
heart. It is merely a refinement of the imagination ;
of an imagination, already soft, and sickly ; of a

338 At School [NO. io7

sensibility, already excessive ; of a relish, already
fastidious. To a genuine perfection of taste it bears
no more resemblance, than the delicate white of
decay to the native fairness of complexion ; or than
the blush of a hectic to the bloom of health.

107. A Learned Blacksmith

BY ELIHU BURRITT (1825)

I WAS the youngest of many brethren, and my
parents were poor. My means of education were
limited to the advantages of a district school ; and
those, again, were circumscribed by my father's death,
which deprived me, at the age of fifteen, of those
scanty opportunities which I had previously enjoyed.
A few months after his death, I apprenticed myself
to a blacksmith in my native village. Thither I
carried an indomitable taste for reading, which I had
previously acquired through the medium of the social
library, all the historical works in which I had at
that time read. At the end of a little more than half
of my apprenticeship, I suddenly conceived the idea
of studying Latin. Through the assistance of an
elder brother, who had himself obtained a college
education by his own exertions, I completed my
Virgil during the evenings of one winter. After
some time devoted to Cicero, and a few other Latin
authors, I commenced Greek. At this time it was
necessary that I should devote every hour of day
light, and a part of the evening, to the duties of my
apprenticeship. Still I carried my Greek grammar
in my hat, and often found a moment, when I was

NO. 107] A Learned Blacksmith 339

heating some large iron, when I could place my book
open before me, against the chimney of my forge,
and go through with tupto, tupteis, tuptei, unperceived
by my fellow-apprentices, and, sometimes with a detri
mental effect to the charge in my fire. At evening I
sat down, unassisted and alone, to the Iliad of Homer,
twenty books of which measured my progress in that
language during the evenings of another winter.

I next turned to the modern languages, and was
much gratified to learn that my knowledge of Latin
furnished me with a key to the literature of most of
the languages of Europe. This circumstance gave a
new impulse to the desire of acquainting myself with
the philosophy, derivation and affinity of the different
European tongues. I could not be reconciled to
limit myself, in these investigations, to a few hours,
after the arduous labors of the day. I therefore laid
down my hammer and went to New Haven, where I
recited to native teachers, in French, Spanish, Ger
man, and Italian. At the expiration of two years I
returned to the forge, bringing with me such books
in those languages as I could procure. When I had
read these books through, I commenced the Hebrew,
with an awakened desire for examining another field ;
and, by assiduous application, I was enabled, in a
few weeks, to read this language with such facility
that I allotted it to myself, as a task, to read two
chapters in the Hebrew Bible, before breakfast, each
morning ; this and an hour at noon being all the time
that I could devote to myself during the day.

After becoming somewhat familiar with the Hebrew,
I looked around me for the means of initiating my
self into the fields of Oriental literature, and to my
deep regret and concern, I found my progress in this

34-O At School [NO. io7

direction hedged up by the want of requisite books.
I immediately began to devise means of obviating
this obstacle ; and, after many plans, I concluded to
seek a place as a sailor, on board some ship bound to
Europe, thinking in this way to have opportunities
for collecting, at different ports, such works in the
modern and Oriental languages as I found necessary
for my object. I left the forge and my native place,
to carry out this plan. I travelled on foot to Boston,
a distance of more than a hundred miles, to find some
vessel bound to Europe. In this I was disappointed ;
and while revolving in my mind what step next to
take, I accidentally heard of the American Antiqua
rian Society, in Worcester. I immediately bent my
steps towards this place. I visited the hall of the
Antiquarian Society, and found there, to my infinite
gratification, such a collection of ancient, modern,
and Oriental languages as I never before conceived
to be collected in one place ; and, sir, you may
imagine with what sentiments of gratitude I was
affected, when, upon evincing a desire to examine
some of these rich and rare works, I was kindly
invited to an unlimited participation in all the ben
efits of this noble institution. Availing myself of the
kindness of the directors, I spent about three hours,
daily, at the hall, which with an hour at noon, and
three in the evening, make up the portion of the
day which I appropriate to my studies, the rest being
occupied in arduous manual labor. Through the
facilities afforded by this institution, I have been able
to add so much to my previous acquaintance with the
ancient, modern, and Oriental languages as to be able
to read upwards of fifty of them with more or less
facility.

No. 108]

Daniel H^ebster

1 08. The New Hampshire School
boy

BY DANIEL WEBSTER (1829)

I DO not remem
ber when or by
whom I was taught
to read ; because I
cannot and never
could recollect a
time when I could
not read the Bible.
I suppose I was
taught by my
mother, 'or by my
elder sisters. My
father seemed to
have no higher ob
ject in the world,
than to educate his
children, to the full
extent of his very
limited ability. No
means were within
his reach, generally speaking, but the small town
schools. These were kept by teachers, sufficiently
indifferent, in the several neighborhoods of the town
ship, each a small part of the year. To these I was
sent, with the other children.

When the school was in our neighborhood, it was
easy to attend ; when it removed to a more distant
district I followed it, still living at home. While yet

ONCE A SCHOOLBOY.
(DANIEL WEBSTER.)

342 ^lt School [NO. ics

quite young, and in winter, I was sent daily two and
a half or three miles to the school. When it removed
still further, my father sometimes boarded me out, in
a neighboring family, so that I could still be in the
school.

In these schools, nothing was taught but reading
and writing ; and, as to these, the first I generally
could perform better than the teacher, and the last a
good master could hardly instruct me in ; writing was
so laborious, irksome, and repulsive an occupation to
me always. My masters used to tell me, that they
feared, after all, my fingers were destined for the
plough-tail.

I must do myself, the justice to say that, in those
boyish days, there were two things I did dearly love :
reading and playing.

At a very early day, owing I believe mainly to the
exertions of Mr. Thompson, the lawyer, the clergy
man, and my father, a very small circulating library
had been bought. I obtained some of these books,
and read them. I remember the " Spectator " among
them.

I was fond of poetry. By far the greater part of
Dr. Watts's Psalms and Hymns I could repeat from
memory at ten or twelve years of age. I am sure
that no other sacred poetry will ever appear to me so
affecting and devout.

I remember that my father brought home from
some of the lower towns Pope's " Essay on Man,"
published in a sort of pamphlet. I took it, and very
soon could repeat it, from beginning to end. We had
so few books that to read them once or twice was
nothing. We thought they were all to be got by
heart.

NO. io8] Daniel W^ebster 343

It so happened, that within the few months during
which I was at the Exeter Academy, Mr. Thacher,
now judge of the Municipal Court of Boston, and Mr.
Emery, the distinguished counsellor at Portland, were
my instructors. I am proud to call them both mas
ters. I believe I made tolerable progress in most
branches which I attended to, while in this school ;
but there was one thing I could not do. I could not
make a declamation. I could not speak before the
school. The kind excellent Buckminster sought,
especially, to persuade me to perform the exercise of
declamation, like other boys ; but I could not do it.
Many a piece did I commit to memory, and recite
and rehearse, in my own room, over and over again ;
yet when the day came, when the school collected to
hear declamations, when my name was called, and I
saw all eyes turned to my seat, I could not raise
myself from it. Sometimes the instructors frowned,
sometimes they smiled. Mr. Buckminster always
pressed, and entreated, most winningly, that I would
venture ; but I could never command sufficient reso
lution. When the occasion was over, I went home
and wept bitter tears of mortification.

In February, 1797, my father carried me to the
Rev. Samuel Wood's, in Boscawen, and placed me
under the tuition of that most benevolent and excel
lent man. It was but half a dozen miles from our
own house. On the way to Mr. Wood's, my father
first intimated to me his intention of sending me to
college. The very idea thrilled my whole frame. He
said he then lived but for his children, and if I would
do all I could for myself, he would do what he could
for me. I remember that I was quite overcome, and
my head grew dizzy. The thing appeared to me so

344 At School [NO. 109

high, and the expense and sacrifice it was to cost my
father, so great, I could only press his hands and
shed tears.

Mr. Wood accomplished his promise, and I entered
Dartmouth College, as a Freshman, August, 1797.
At Boscawen, I had found another circulating library,
and had read many of its volumes. I remember
especially that I found " Don Quixote," in the com
mon translation, and in an edition, as I think, of three
or four duodecimo volumes. I began to read it, and
it is literally true that I never closed my eyes till I
had finished it ; nor did I lay it down for five minutes ;
so great was the power of that extraordinary book on
my imagination.

— + —

109. The District School-house

BY REVEREND WARREN BURTON (1833)

THE Old School-house in District No. 5 stood on
the top of a very high hill, on the north side of what
was called the County road. The house of Capt.
Clark, about ten rods off, was the only human dwell
ing within a quarter of a mile. The reason why this
seminary of letters was perched so high in the air,
and so far from the homes of those who resorted to
it, was this : here was the centre of the district, as
near as surveyor's chain could designate. The people
east would not permit the building to be carried one
rod further west, and those of the opposite quarter
were as obstinate on their side. So here it was
placed ; and this continued to be literally the " hill of
science" to generation after generation of learners
for fifty years.

NO. iog] T/ie District School-house 345

The edifice was set half in Capt Clark's field,
and half in the road. The wood-pile lay in the corner
made by the east end and the stone wall. The best
roof it ever had over it was the changeful sky, which
was a little too leaky to keep the fuel at all times fit
for combustion, without a great deal of puffing and
smoke. The door-step was a broad unhewn rock,
brought from the neighboring pasture. It had not a
flat and even surface, but was considerably sloping
from the door to the road ; so that, in icy times, the
scholars, in passing out, used to snatch from the
scant declivity the transitory pleasure of a slide. But
look out for a slip-up, ye careless ; for many a time
have I seen urchin's head where his feet were but a
second before, and once the most lofty and perpen
dicular pedagogue I ever knew, became suddenly
horizontalized in his egress.

But we have lingered round this door-step long
enough. Before we cross it, however, let us just
glance at the outer side of the structure. It was
never painted by man ; but the clouds of many years
had stained it with their own dark hue. The nails
were starting from their fastness, and fellow-clap
boards were becoming less closely and warmly inti
mate. There were six windows, which here and
there stopped and distorted the passage of light by
fractures, patches, and seams of putty. There were
shutters of board, like those of a store, which were
of no kind of use, excepting to keep the windows
from harm in vacations, when they were the least
liable to harm. They might have been convenient
screens against the summer sun, were it not that
their shade was inconvenient darkness. Some of
these, from loss of buttons, were fastened back by

346

At School [No. 109

poles, which were occasionally thrown down in the
heedlessness of play, and not replaced till repeated
slams had broken a pane of glass, or the patience of
the teacher. To crown this description of externals,
I must say a word about the roof. The shingles had
been battered apart by a thousand rains; and, except
ing where the most defective had been exchanged
for new ones, they were dingy with the mold and
moss of time. The bricks of the chimney-top were
losing their cement, and looked as if some high wind
might hurl them from their smoky vocation.

We will now go inside. First, there is an entry
which the district were sometimes provident enough
to store with dry pine wood, as an antagonist to the
greenness and wetness of the other fuel. A door
on the left admits us to the school room. Here
is a space about twenty feet long and ten wide, the
reading and spelling parade. At the south end of it,
at the left as you enter, was one seat and writing
bench, making a right angle with the rest of the
seats. This was occupied in the winter by two of the
oldest boys in the school. At the opposite end was
the magisterial desk, raised upon a platform a foot
from the floor. The fire-place was on the right, half
way between the door of entrance and another door
leading into a dark closet, where the girls put their
outside garments and their dinner baskets. This also
served as a fearful dungeon for the immuring of
offenders. Directly opposite the fire-place was an
aisle, two feet and a half wide, running up an in
clined floor to the opposite side of the room. On
each side of this were five or six long seats and
writing benches, for the accommodation of the school
at their studies. In front of these, next to the spell-

NO. no] A Wonderful Speller 347

ing floor, were low, narrow seats for abecedarians and
others near that rank. In general, the older the
scholar, the further from the front was his location.
The windows behind the back seat were so low that
the traveler could generally catch the stealthy glance
of curiosity as he passed. Such was the Old School-
house at the time I first entered it.

no. A Wonderful Speller

BY REVEREND WARREN BURTON (1833)

THE most extraordinary spelling, and indeed read
ing machine, in our school, was a boy whom I shall
call Memorus Wordwell. He was mighty and won
derful in the acquisition and remembrance of words,
— of signs without the ideas signified. The alpha
bet he acquired at home before he was two years old.
What exultation of parents, what exclamation from
admiring visitors ! " There was never any thing like
it." He had almost accomplished his A-b's before he
was thought old enough for school. At an earlier
age than usual, however, he was sent; and then he
went from Ache to Abomination in half the summers
and winters it took the rest of us to go over the same
space.

Master Wordwell was a remarkable reader too.
He could rattle off a word as extensive as the name
of a Russian noble, when he was but five years old,
as easily as the schoolmaster himself. " He can
read in the hardest chapters of the Testament as fast
agin as I can," said his mother. " I never did see
nothin beat it," exclaimed his father; "he speaks up

348

At School [No. no

as loud as a minister." But I have said enough
about this prodigy. I have said thus much, because,
although he was thought so surpassingly bright, he
was the most decided ninny in the school. The fact
is, he did not know what the sounds he uttered
meant. It never entered his head, nor the heads of
his parents and most of his teachers, that words and
sentences were written, and should be read, only to
be understood.

It happened one day that the " cut and split" for
the fire fell short, and Jonas Patch was out wielding
the axe in school time. He had been at work about
half an hour, when Memorus, who was perceived to
have less to do than the rest, was sent out to take
his place. He was about ten years old, and four
years younger than Jonas. " Memorus, you may
go out and spell Jonas." Our hero did not think
of the Yankee sense in which the master used the
word spell: indeed, he had never attached but one
meaning to it, whenever it was used with reference
to himself. He supposed the master was granting
him a ride extraordinary on his favorite hobby. So
he put his spelling-book under his arm, and was out
at the woodpile with the speed of a boy rushing to
play.

" Have you got your spelling-lesson, Jonas ? " was
his first salutation. " Haven't looked at it yet," was
the reply. " I mean to cut up this great log, spelling
or no spelling, before I go in. I had as lieve keep
warm here choppin wood, as freeze up there in that
cold back seat." "Well, the master sent me out to
hear you spell." " Did he ? well, put out the words,
and I'll spell." Memorus being so distinguished a
speller, Jonas did not doubt but that he was really

NO. no] _A Jf^onderful Speller 349

sent out on this errand. So our deputy spelling-
master mounted the top of the woodpile, just in front
of Jonas, to put out words to his temporary pupil,
who still kept on putting out chips.

" Do you know where the lesson begins, Jonas ? "
"No, I don't; but I 'spose I shall find out now."
"Well, here 'tis." (They both belonged to the
same class.) " Spell A-bom-i-na-tion." Jonas spells.
A-b-o-m bom a-bom (in the mean time up goes the
axe high in air), i a-bom-i (down it goes again chuck
into the wood) n-a na a-bom-i-na (up it goes again)
t-i-o-n tion, a-bom-i-na-tion ; chuck the axe goes again,
and at the same time out flies a furious chip, and hits
Memorus on the nose. At this moment the master
appeared just at the corner of the school-house, with
one foot still on the threshold. " Jonas, why don't
you come in ? didn't I send Memorus out to spell
you?" '"Yes, sir, and he has been spelling me;
how could I come in if he spelt me here ? " At this
the master's eye caught Memorus perched upon the
top stick, with his book open upon his lap, rubbing
his nose, and just in the act of putting out the next
word of the column. Ac-com-mo-da-tion, pronounced
Memorus in a broken but louder voice than before ;
for he had caught a glimpse of the master, and he
wished to let him know that he was doing his duty.
This was too much for the master's gravity. He
perceived the mistake, and, without saying more,
wheeled back into the school-room, almost bursting
with the most tumultuous laugh he ever tried to sup
press. The scholars wondered at his looks, and
grinned in sympathy. But in a few minutes Jonas
came in, followed by Memorus with his spelling-book,
who exclaimed, " I have heard him spell through the

35 o At School [NO. in

whole lesson, and he didn't spell hardly any of them
right." The master could hold in no longer, and the
scholars perceived the blunder, and there was one
simultaneous roar from pedagogue and pupils ; the
scholars laughing twice as loud and uproariously in
consequence of being permitted to laugh in school-
time, and to do it with the accompaniment of the
master.

iii. Little Books presented the
Last Day of School

BY REVEREND WARREN BURTON (1833)

THERE was one circumstance connected with the
history of summer schools of so great importance to
little folks that it must not be omitted. It was this.
The mistress felt obliged to give little books to all
her pupils on the closing day of her school. Other
wise she would be thought stingy, and half the good
she had done during the summer would be canceled
by the omission of the expected donations. If she
had the least generosity, or hoped to be remembered
with any respect and affection, she must devote a
week's wages, and perhaps more, to the purchase of
these little toy-books. My first present was from
Mary Smith. It was not a little book the first sum
mer, but it was something that pleased me more.

The last day of the school had arrived. All, as I
have somewhere said before, were sad that it was
now to finish. My only solace was that I should
now have a little book, for I was not unmoved in the
general expectation that prevailed. After the read-

NO. in] Last Day of School 351

ing and spelling, and all the usual exercises of the
school, were over, Mary took from her desk a pile
of the glittering little things we were looking for.
What beautiful covers, — red, yellow, blue, green !
Oh ! not the first buds of spring, not the first rose of
summer, not the rising moon, nor gorgeous rainbow,

FROM AN OLD SCHOOL BOOK.

seemed so charming as that first pile of books now
spread out on her lap, as she sat in her chair in front
of the school. All eyes were now centered on the
outspread treasures. Pleasure glowed in every heart ;
for the worst, as well as the best, calculated with cer
tainty on a present. The scholars were called out
one by one to receive the dazzling gifts, beginning at
the oldest, I, being an abecedarian, must wait till

School [NO. in

the last ; but as I knew that my turn would surely
come in due order, I was tolerably patient. But what
was my disappointment, my exceeding bitterness of
grief, when the last book on Mary's lap was given
away, and my name not yet called ! Every one
present had received, except myself and two others
of the ABC rank. I felt the tears starting to my
eyes ; my lips were drawn to their closest pucker to
hold in my emotions from audible outcry. I heard
my fellow-sufferer at my side draw long and heavy
breaths, the usual preliminaries to the bursting-out
of grief. This feeling, however, was but momentary ;
for Mary immediately said, " Charles and Henry and
Susan, you may now all come to me together:" at
the same time her hand was put into her work-bag.
We were at her side in an instant, and in that time
she held in her hand — what ? Not three little pic
ture-books, but what was to us a surprising novelty,
viz., three little birds wrought from sugar by the
confectioner's art. I had never seen or heard or
dreamed of such a thing. What a revulsion of de
lighted feeling now swelled my little bosom ! " If I
should give you books," said Mary, " you could not
read them at present; so I have got for you what
you will like better perhaps, and there will be time
enough for you to have books when you shall be able
to read them. So, take these little birds, and see
how long you can keep them." We were perfectly
satisfied, and even felt ourselves distinguished above
the rest. My bird was more to me than all the song
sters in the air, although it could not fly or sing, or
open its mouth. I kept it for years, until by accident
it was crushed to pieces, and was no longer a bird.
But Susan Clark — I was provoked at her. Her

NO. in] Last Day of School 353

bird was nothing to her but a piece of pepperminted
sugar, and not a keepsake from Mary Smith. She
had not left the schoolhouse before she had nibbled
off its bill. But her mother was always tickling her
palate with sugar-plums, raisins, cookies, and such
like, which the rest of us were not accustomed to ;
and she had no idea that the sweet little sugar
bird was made, at least was given, for the sake of
her heart rather than her palate.

The next summer, my present was the " Death and
Burial of Cock Robin." This was from the dearly
loved Mary too. I could then do something more
than look at the pictures. I could read the tragic
history which was told in verse below the pictured
representations of the mournful drama. How I used
to gaze and wonder at what I saw in that little book !
Could it be that all this really took place ; that the
sparrow really did do the murderous deed with his
bow and his arrow ? I never knew that birds had
such things. Then there was the fish with his dish,
the rook with his book, the owl with his shovel.
Yet, if it were not all true, why should it be so
pictured and related in the book ? I had the impres
sion that every thing that was printed in a book was
surely true ; and as no one thought to explain to me
the nature of a fable, I went on puzzled and won
dering till progressive reason at length divined its
meaning. But Cock Robin, with its red cover and
gilded edges — I have it now. It is the first little
book I ever received, and it was from Mary Smith ;
and, as it is the only tangible memento of her good
ness that I possess, I shall keep it as long as I can.

2 A

354 At School [NO. 112

112. Entrance Examinations for
Harvard

BY JOHN ADAMS (1757) AND DR. SAMUEL KIRKLAND
LOTHROP (1821)

MR. MARSH was a son of our former minister of
that name, who kept a private boarding school but
two doors from my father's. To this school I went,
where I was kindly treated, and I began to study in
earnest. My father soon observed the relaxation of
my zeal for fowling piece, and my daily increasing
attention to my books. In a little more than a year
Mr. Marsh pronounced me fitted for college. On the
day appointed at Cambridge for the examination of
candidates for admission I mounted my horse and
called upon Mr. Marsh, who was to go with me. The
weather was dull and threatened rain. Mr. Marsh
said he was unwell and afraid to go out. I must
therefore go alone. Thunderstruck at this unfore
seen disappointment, and terrified at the thought of
introducing myself to such great men as the President
and Fellows of a college, I at first resolved to return
home ; but foreseeing the grief of my father and
apprehending he would not only be offended with me
but my master too whom I sincerely loved, I. aroused
myself, and collected resolution enough to proceed.
Although Mr. Marsh had assured me that he had seen
one of the tutors the last week and had said to him all
that was proper for him to say if he should go to Cam
bridge, that he was not afraid to trust me to an
examination and was confident I should acquit my-

NO. U2] Entrance Examinations 355

self well and be honourably admitted ; yet I had not
the same confidence in myself and suffered a very
melancholy journey. Arrived at Cambridge I pre
sented myself according to my directions and under
went the usual examination by the President Mr.
Holyoke and the tutors Flint, Hancock, Mayhew and
Marsh. Mr. Mayhew into whose class we were to be
admitted, presented me a passage of English to trans
late into Latin. It was long and casting my eye
over it I found several words the Latin for which did
not occur to my memory. Thinking that I must
translate it without a dictionary, I was in a great
fright and expected to be turned by, an event that I
dreaded above all things. Mr. Mayhew went into
his study and bid me follow him. " There child," said
he, " is a dictionary, there a grammar, and there
paper, pen, and ink, and you may take your own
time." This was joyful news to me and I then
thought my admission safe. The Latin was soon
made. I was declared admitted and a theme given me
to write on in the vacation. I was as light when I
came home as I had been heavy when I went : my
master was well pleased and my parents very happy.

On Monday morning Dr. Kirkland, as he was
leaving the breakfast-table, said that he would like
to see me in his study at a quarter before nine.
When I presented myself he gave two little taps of
his feet upon the floor, and immediately I heard a
movement in the room below, footsteps on the stairs,
and a knock at the door. The "Come in" was an
swered by a young person, to whom Dr. Kirkland

356

At School [NO.

said, " Emerson, this is my nephew, Master Lothrop,
of whom I spoke to you." Emerson and myself shook
hands, while my uncle continued, " I wish to put him
under your instruction, for the present at least. Will
you take him to your room, see where he is in his
studies, and begin accordingly ? Be careful not to
make his lessons too long and difficult, because he is
more accustomed to out-of-door life than to study.
In his recitations and oral instruction I wish you to
give him about an hour a day, from Monday to Friday
inclusive." Emerson bowed, and said, " I will do the
best I can, sir"; then turning to me, asked, "Will
you come down to my room ? " As soon as we got
into his room he said, with a slight diminution of the
dignity and authority manifested in presence of the
President, " Lothrop — your Christian name ; what is
it ? " I told him my name, and then made the same
inquiry in regard to his ; to which he replied, " My
name is Ralph, — Ralph Waldo." Physically at least,
the child was the father of the man ; for he was very
much the same person then in looks and manners
that I have known him to be for the last forty years.
He was about two years older than myself, and nearly
as tall as when he had reached maturity, — a Saxon
blonde, pale face, light hair, blue eyes. He was calm
and quiet in his manners ; and no matter how much
he felt, externally he was never moved or excited.
I think there was the same mingling of shyness,
awkwardness, and dignity about him as a freshman in
college that is often observed in him to-day.

The examination began at 6 A. M. Friday, was
over by five in the afternoon, and between that and
seven o'clock all the candidates got their answers. I
passed a very good examination, but was conditioned

NO. n3] County School Houses 357

in Latin Grammar, — a book which at that time I
could recite from beginning to end without a mistake.
Dr. Kirkland, who examined me pretty strictly in the
Georgics of Virgil, and made me parse several clauses,
said, " I am a little surprised at your being conditioned
in Latin Grammar. How came it?" I said, "I don't
know, sir ; I had only one question put to me, which
I did not exactly understand, and almost instantly,
while I was trying to make out what the question
meant, Mr. Hunt said, 'That will do; sit down.''
My uncle made no remark; and Mr. Hunt, when I
went to him to be re-examined in Latin Grammar,
merely said, " Have you been studying it during the
vacation?" I replied, "No, sir, I can't say that I
have. I thought I could repeat the whole of it the
day you conditioned me. Mr. Miles considered me
perfectly prepared in Latin Grammar." " Well, well!"
he said, " I don't care about hearing you repeat the
whole of it now. I'll take Mr. Miles's opinion : you
may go." And so I left, feeling that I should like to
ask him if he thought it right to treat a young man
in that way.

— + —

113. County School Houses

BY HORACE MANN (1838)

THE school-houses in the state have a few common
characteristics. They are almost universally con
tracted in size ; they are situated immediately on the
road-side, and are without any proper means of ven
tilation. In most other respects the greatest diver
sity prevails. The floors of some are horizontal ;
those of others rise in the form of an amphitheatre,

358

At School

[No. 113

on two, or sometimes three sides, from an open area
in the centre. On the horizontal floors, the seats and
desks are sometimes designed only for a single scholar

TWO FAMOUS MEN.
(LONGFELLOW AND SUMNER.)

and allow the teacher room to approach on either side,
and give an opportunity to go out or into the seat,
without disturbance of any one. In others, ten

NO. n4] A Young Schoolmistress 359

scholars are seated on one seat, and at one desk, so
that the middle ones can neither go out nor in with
out disturbing, at least, four of their neighbors. In
others, again, long tables are prepared, at which the
scholars sit face to face, like large companies at
dinner. In others the seats are arranged on the sides
of the room, the walls of the house forming the
backs of the seats, and the scholars, as they sit at the
desks, facing inwards ; while in others, the desks are
attached to the walls, and the scholars face outwards.
The form of school-houses is, with very few ex
ceptions, that of a square or oblong. Some, how
ever, are round, with an open circular area in the
centre of the room, for the teacher's desk and a stove,
with seats and desks around the wall, facing outwards,
separated from each other by high partitions, which
project some distance into the room, so that the
scholars may be turned into these separate compart
ments, as into so many separate stalls. In no particu
lar does chance seem to have had so much sway as in
regard to light. In many, so much of the wall is
occupied by windows, that there is little difference
between the intensity and the changes of light within
and without the school-room ; while in some others,
there is but one small window on each of the three
sides of the house and none on the fourth.

114. A Very Young Schoolmistress

BY MRS. WYATT

BEFORE I was thirteen, I had an invitation to
teach a school in Meaderborough, in the upper part
of Rochester, N.H., I commenced the school under

MARTHA I.AURENS.

NO. 1 14] A Young Schoolmistress 361

favorable auspices, with eighteen or twenty scholars,
young men and women, and three babies. It was
my first effort, and never did I do better. I was
young and strove to excel. The school was popular
and I gained much credit, as a teacher.

Schools then, were not as now, filled up with all
branches necessary to make a finished education, in
these modern times. The only branches taught were
reading, spelling, and writing. But little was thought
in those days of the education of daughters. To
read and write, with a smattering of geography and
arithmetic were considered the height of female edu
cation. The minds of girls were then considered to
be inadequate to struggle with the higher branches
of education, which they now master so readily.

The only books then used in school were Webster's
spelling book, the Testament, and the Third Part,
for the upper class.

My school was in good order. Special attention
was given to the manners of the pupils. They were
taught how to enter and leave the school-room. They
were not allowed to run in, and out, like a flock of
sheep, passing over a gap of wall. The bow of
the little boy was something more than a nod over
the shoulder, by just turning the neck askew, and
bending it to one side. The courtesy of the little
girl was practised, till it could be gracefully per
formed. The manner even of walking to and from
their seats, was not neglected.

By strict attention to these little matters, the young
school-marm soon gained a reputation. Her school
was famous through the whole region. The parents
scarcely knew their own children, so much were they
improved. Parents, teachers and pupils, all came to

362

At School [NO.

see the school, and went away to praise the teacher.
A schoolmistress in those days was a wonder, and
especially one so young as thirteen. I closed this,
my first school, with more than the approbation of
all concerned.

115. A First-Honor Boy

BY J. MARION SIMS (1819)

WHEN I was six years old, my father sent me to a
boarding-school, some six or eight miles from home.
The teacher here was an Irishman, Mr. Quigley,
a man about fifty-five years old, and a rigid discipli
narian ; altogether very tyrannical, and sometimes
cruel. He was badly pock-marked, otherwise a
handsome man. I was very unhappy at his house.
He had two grown daughters ; one of the daughters
was very unkind to me, the other was sympathetic.

A very curious custom prevailed in this school,
which was that the boy who arrived earliest in the
morning was at the head of his class during the day,
and was considered the first-honor boy. The one
who arrived second took the second place, and so on.
There was a great rivalry among some half-dozen of
the most ambitious of the boys. James Graham was
about ten years old. He was almost always first in
the morning. Although I was so very young, only
six, I occasionally made efforts to get there earlier
than he did. I suppose the school-house was not
more than three-quarters of a mile, from the teacher's
residence where I boarded ; but it seemed to me, at
the time, that it was very much farther than that.
However, the boy that got ahead of James Graham

NO. n5] A First-Honor Boy 363

had to rise very early in the morning. I remember
getting up one morning long before daybreak.

The dread of my young life was mad dogs and
runaway slaves. I started off for the school-house
on a trot, an hour before day, looking anxiously from
side to side, and before and behind, fearing all the
time those two great bugbears of my young life.
When I arrived at the school-house the wind was
blowing very severely. It was in the autumn ; the
acorns were falling on the clap-boards covering the
log-cabin, and I didn't feel very comfortable, and
was most anxious for James Graham to come. At
last he arrived, greatly to my relief. This was my
first and last first-honor day. I was content after
this to resign this post to James Graham.

My father came to see me but once during the six
months I was in this school. My mother came to
see me about once a month. I was dying to tell her
of the bad treatment I received from the teacher and
from one of his daughters. The old gentleman was
very obstinate, and not only punished me unneces
sarily at school, but he would not let me have what
I wanted to eat, and would compel me to eat things
absolutely distasteful to me. I wished to tell my
mother of all this ; of how Miss Nelly used to box
my ears and pull my hair, and how old Quigley
used to punish me, but I was too closely watched.
I could never get her to one side, never see her
alone. At last I became desperate : right in the
presence of the whole family I told the whole truth
of the severe treatment that I had endured ever since
I had been there, and that she must take me home ;
if she didn't, I would run away and leave the place
even if I were captured by runaway slaves and de-

At School [No. 116

voured by mad dogs. I would have run away long
before, but for this dread.

As soon as my mother went home, and told my
father what had occurred, he sent and removed me
to my own home again, where I was as happy as the
day was long. I must say, however, that, in spite
of all the disagreeable things of this school, they man
aged to make the boys learn. I used to lie awake
nights, and think about what I could do to get home.
Then it was that the idea of an elevated road came
into my mind strongly. My idea was that all little
boys placed at boarding-schools should have a trough
reaching from the school to their homes, elevated
on posts and girders, ten feet above ground, so that
they could climb up and get into this trough and run
home without the fear of either mad dogs or runaway
slaves.

1 1 6. A Little American Girl in a
French Convent

BY MARTHA JEFFERSON (1785)

I AM very happy in the convent, and with reason,
for there wants nothing but the presence of my
friends of America to render my situation worthy to
be envied by the happiest ; I do not say kings, for,
far from it, they are often more unfortunate than the
lowest of their subjects. I have seen the king and
the queen, but at too great a distance to judge if they
are like their pictures in Philadelphia. We had a
lovely passage in a beautiful new ship, that had made
one passage before. There were only six passengers,

NO. n6] A Little American Girl 365

all of whom Papa knew, and we had fine sunshine all
the way, with a sea which was as calm as a river.

We landed in England, where we made a very
short stay. The day we left it we got off at six
o'clock in the evening, and arrived in France at
eleven the next morning. I cannot say that this
voyage was as agreeable as the first, though it was
much shorter. It rained violently, and the sea was
exceedingly rough all the time, and I was almost as
sick as the first time, when I was sick two days. The
cabin was not more than three feet wide and about
four long. There was no other furniture than an old
bench, which was fast to the wall. The door by
which we came in was so little that one was obliged
to enter on all-fours. There were two little doors on
the side of the cabin, the way to our beds, which
were composed of two boxes and a couple of blankets,
without either spring or mattress, so that I was
obliged to sleep in my clothes. There being no win
dow in the cabin, we were obliged to stay in the dark,
for fear of the rain coming in if we opened the
door.

I fear we should have fared badly at our arrival,
for Papa spoke very little French, and I not a word,
if an Irish gentleman, an entire stranger to us, had
not seen our embarrassment, and been so good as to
conduct us to a house ; he was of great service to us.
It is amazing to see how they cheat strangers ; it cost
Papa as much to have the baggage brought from the
shore to the house, which was about half a square, as
the bringing it from Philadelphia to Boston.

From there we should have had a very delightful
voyage to Paris, for Havre de Grace is built at the
mouth of the Seine, and we follow the river all the

366

At School [No. 116

way through the most beautiful country I ever saw in
my life, — it is a perfect garden ; — but the singularity
of our carriage (a phaeton) attracted the attention of
all we met; and whenever we stopped we were sur
rounded by the beggars. One day I counted no less
than nine where we stopped to change horses.

I wish you could have been with us when we
arrived, I am sure you would have laughed, for we
were obliged to send immediately for the stay-maker,
the mantua-maker, the milliner, and even a shoe
maker, before I could go out. I have never had the
frisenr but once ; but I soon got rid of him, and
turned down my hair in spite of all they could say.
I have seen two nuns take the veil. I'll tell you
about that when I come to see you.

I was placed in a convent at my arrival, and I leave
you to judge of my situation. I did not speak a word
of French, and not one here knew English but a little
girl of two years old, that could hardly speak French.
There are about fifty or sixty pensioners in the house,
so that speaking as much as I could with them, I
learnt the language very soon. At present I am
charmed with my situation. There come in some
new pensioners every day. The classe is four rooms,
exceedingly large, for the pensioners to sleep in ; and
there is a fifth and sixth, one for them to stay in the
day, and the other in which they take their lessons.
We wear the uniform, which is crimson, made like a
frock, laced behind, with the tail, like a robe de conr,
hooked on, muslin cuffs and tuckers. The masters
are all very good, except that for the drawing.

NO. n7] The Art of Meriting 367
117. Squib on the Art of Writing

BY FRANCIS HOPKINSON (1780)

GENIUS is the gift of heaven, and manifests itself
by emanations altogether unexpected and surprising.
Its powers are not to be obtained by application and
study, but they may be assisted by art. When genius
hath brought forth, art takes up and nurses the child,
and carefully consulting its features, deduces rules
for a happy conception.

Such being the connection between genius and art
it is but reasonable that a mutual intercourse of good
offices should subsist between them.

For my own part, I must confess that nature hath
not been over bountiful to me in the article of genius ;
but I am desirous of exerting the little she hath given
in behalf of those who may have no more than myself.

For this purpose I have devised a method of writ
ing on any subject. In it not only the sound may be
an echo to the sense, if any sense there be, but the
eye also shall be gratified with an exhibition of me
chanical elegance and propriety. This is the only
elegance perhaps to which such writers can attain.

By this scheme the construction of a paragraph,
the progress of a line, and even the disposition of the
words, may all contribute to enforce the idea intended.

It would be a tedious task to form a system of
rules for this new method of writing, or to give a
description at large of my useful device. One ex
ample will fully explain the whole, so as to enable an
author of the meanest capacity to understand and
profit by the design. A little practice will make it
familiar to him.

368 At School [NO. ii7

A SAMPLE OF GOOD WRITING.

height
to the

rise

An author who wishes to of excellence of

good writing, must OQ to call in me-

\
-

chanical propriety to his aid. He cannot be

sublime :
all at once but ^

to the e

profound,

c, ^? to elegance,

6eauty

NO. n7 ] The Art of Writing 369

And whether he writes in plain prose ;

Or would in verse his thoughts convey,
His rhyming talents to display ;

and the diction
strict propriety should prevail,

and the sense

run parallel to each other ; pleasing as well the eye
as the ear.

Some have a happy talent for expression, whereby
they compensate for the want of sentiment by the
enchanting melody of their style. Their language

and the mind lull'd in a pleasing repose.

Others, without giving to grammar rules offence,
shall arrange so unskilfully their words ; breaking as
it were, and interrupting the sense (or rather non
sense) they mean to communicate, by frequent (and
oft times unnecessary) parenthesis, that the ear stum
bles over their rugged paragraphs, as the feet would
stumble in scrambling through a street, when the

#* ^ UP ; °ver

pave £ $• been % stones bricks'

* * and

>}}

*<t

370 At School [NO. ii7

The mind of the reader is more fa- ti

gu---1 ed by travelling through a sentence so

constructed, than it would be in gliding through a
whole page -of harmonious phraseology.

Your precise grammarians are most apt to write in
this style, thinking that they have well acquitted
themselves, if the strict rules of syntax are in no
instance violated. The laborer who mixes the mor
tar, and he who carries the hod, may as well pretend
to skill in architecture, as these haberdashers of
moods and tenses may pretend to taste and elegance
in composition.

Others there are who affect a singularity of

above
style It is indubitable verity, that their

the vulgar.

phrases are collated from the most approved authors,
and applied with the most becoming aptitude, even
to the very point of precision in propriety. Every
period is polished and rounded off

as round

Whilst others scorn the

r , i i • ^ i' and write,

of language, deal in demonstration ^

NO. ii7] The Art of Meriting 371

By the foregoing example it is evident, that not
only an author's sentiments may be more forcibly
impressed on the mind, but the reader's memory will
also be greatly assisted, if happily anything so written
should be worth remembering.

Source Book of American History

FOR SCHOOLS AND READERS

Edited by ALBERT BUSHNELL HART, Ph.D.

Author of "American History told by Contemporaries" etc.

Cloth. 1 2 mo. 60 cents, net

"The book, as the author intends, is abundantly suggestive. But at the
same time it is in its facts good history, and so skilfully and admirably
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tory from the voyages of Columbus to the Spanish-American War. The
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ters for teachers are of the most helpful sort; and the book is sold at so low a
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— The Dial.

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK

BOSTON CHICAGO SAN FRANCISCO ATLANTA

100 Boylston St. 378 Wabash Ave 319-325 Sansome St. 135 Whitehall St.

STUDENT'S HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES

By EDWARD CHANNING

Professor of History in Harvard University
WITH SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS

By ANNA BOYNTON THOMSON

Thayer Academy, South Braintree, Mass.

8vo. Half Leather. $1.40 net

COMMENTS
High School, Bellows Falls, Vt.

" The book grows upon one greatly. It is beyond anything I have
seen in its principle, its way of dealing with the vital things. It will be
a fine book to put into the hands of a Senior class in the high school."
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" Your book has given us good satisfaction. It is the best School
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A SHORT HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES

FOR GRAMMAR GRADES
By EDWARD CHANNING

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I2mo. Half Leather. 90 cents net

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THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
CHICAGO BOSTON SAN FRANCISCO ATLANTA

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