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NATURAL AND CIVIL

I S T O B Y

or

VERMONT.

BY SAMUEL WILLIAMS, LL. D.

Member of the Meteorological Society in Germany, of TUR

Philosothical Society in Philadelphia, and op thr

Academy or Arts and Sciences in Massachussttj.

IN TWO VOLUMES,

Volume L'

THE SECOND EDITION, CORRECTED ANL)
MUCH ENLARGED.

BURLINGTON, Vt.

PRINTED BY SAMUEL MILLS.
Sold at his Bookstore in Burlington, by Mills and WfilTrj

MlDDLEBURY, IsAIAH ThoMAS, JuN. WORCESTER, ThOMAS

AND Andrews, Boston, Thomas and WHi«>rL,E_4NQ
S. Sawyer ANb Co. Newburyport. ^ • ■ ' ' '. '

1809. .

\-

DISTRICT OF VERMONT, to wit.

BE it remembered, that on the twenty fifth day of Febrtt»

ary, in the thirty third year of the Independence of the

- , _ United States of America, Samuel Mills of Burlington in

V ij. t>. ) fgi^j District, hath deposited in this Office, the title of 3

Book, the right whereof he claims as proprietor, in the

■Words following, to wit :

«' The Natural and Civil History of Vermont. By Samael Williams,

"* LL. D. Member of the Meteorological Society in Germany, of the

"Philosophical Society in Philadelphia, and of the academy of arts

••and Sciences in Massachusetts. In two Volumes. Volume I. The

'• second edition, corre<5ted and much enlarged."

In conformity to the adl of the Congress of the United States, en-
titled " an adt for the encouragement of learning, by securing the co-
pics of Maps, Charts and Books, to the authors and proprietors of
such copies, during the times therein mentioned,"

CEPH-VS SMITH, Jun.

Clerk of the Diftiift of Vermont.
A true Copy of Record,

CEPHAS SMITH, Jun. Clerk.

4 * '

TO THE CITIZENS OF THE STATE OS

VERMONT,

THE fOLLOWlNG OBSERVATIONS

ON THEIil

NATURAL AND CIVIL

HISTORY,

ARE HUMBLY INSCRIBED ;

AS A TESTIMONY OF R.ESPECT FOR THEIR

MANY VIRTUES,

AS AN ATTEMPT TO PROMOTE

A MORE PARTICULAR ACQUAINTANCE

WITH THEIR OWN AFFAIRS,

AND WITH THE MOST ARDENT WISHES FOR.

THEIR FURTHER IMPROVEMENT

AND PROSPERITY,

BY THEIR OBEDIENT
AND HUMBLE
SERVANT,

THE AUTHOR

Rutland, July 16, 1,794.

*

PREFACE.

o©©©o

THREE centuries have passed away
gince America was first discovered by Colum-
bus. From that time until now, the affairs of
America have engaged the attention of historians
and philosophers. The natural productions of
this continent, have been one object of general
inquiry. Among the Spanish writers, there are
some good essays on the natural history of the
southern parts of America. In Canada, some of
the physicians and Jesuits were attentive to the
natural productions of that part of the continent i
and have left some valuable pieces on the natural
history of New France. This kind of knowledge
^vas not much attended to, by the first settlers of
the British colonics ; and we" have but few of
their ancient writings, in which it was contem-
plated at all. Obliged to depend upon transient
and partial accounts, the best WTiter upon natural
history, M. de Buffon, has flillen into many mis-
takes respecting the natural productions of A-
merica, which, more accurate observations would
Jiave corrected. The subject instead of being
fully explored, i.s yet a treasure but little ex-
amined.

The Man of America was an object still nnore
curious and important. But the age in which
the first discoveries and settlements were made,
was not enough enlighLcned, to afford either ac-
curate or impartial observations, on the manners,
customs, language, abilities, or state of society,
e^niong the Indians. Prejudiced by their sordid

^ PREFACE.

manners, and enraged by their barbarities, the
men of Europe never looked for any thing good
in such men : And while interest and revenge
joined to destroy that unhappy race, but few
were able to consider their customs or rights
with calmness, or dared to say any thing in their
favor. It is not more than half a century, since
this subject has been properly attended to by
philosophers : And their conclusions have been
of the most opposite and contrary kinds. Some
have with great zeal advanced, that the perfec-
tion of man was to be found in the savage state ;
while others have as warmly contended, that this
was the lowest state of degradation and abase--
ment, to which the human race can possibly be
reduced. Such opposite and contrary systems
make it necessary to examine this part of the
natural history of man, with gre?.t care and im-
partiality ; that we may distinguish what was
valuable in that stage of society, and what was
disadvantageous and degrading.

An object of still higher magnitude and im-
portance, has been presented to our view by the
American Revolution. The first settlers in the
British colonies were left in a great measure by
their sovereigns, to take care of themselves. The
only situation which they could take, while they
were clearing the woods and forming their set-
tlements, was that of equality, industry, and
economy. In such a situation ever}'- thing ten-
ded to produce, and to establish the spirit of
freedom. Their employments, customs, man-
ners, and habits ; their wants, dangers, and in-
terests, were nearly the same ; these, with every
other circuhistance in their situation, operated

fREFACE. T

With a steady and certain tendencj', to preserve
that equality and freedom, which nature had
made. This spirit of freedom was in some de-
gree checked by the customary interpositions of
royal authority : But these were too irregular
and contradictory, to become matters of venera-
tion, to alter the natural feelings of men, or to
change the natural course and tendency of things :
And while the ministers of kings were looking
into their laws and records, to decide what
should be the riy-hts of men in the colonies, na-
ture was establishing a system of freedom in A-
merica, which they could neither comprehend or
discern. The American Revolution explained
the business to the world, and served to confirm
what nature and society had before produced.

Having assumed their rank among the na-
tions of the earth, the states of America now
present to the world a new state of society ;
founded on principles, containing arrangements,
and producing effects, not visible in any nation
before. The uncommon and increasing pros-
perity which has attended it, has ascertained its
spirit and tendency : The people are distinguish-
ed by the spirit of inquiry, industry, economyp
enterprize, and regularity : The government is
dependent upon, but guides, and reverences the
people : And the whole country is rapidly in-
creasing in numbers, extent, wealth, and power.
The highest perfection and felicity, which man
is permitted to hope for in the present life, may
rationally be expected in such a state of society ;
And it becomes of course the object of univer-
- sal inquiry and attention.

To represent the state of things in America

d JPREFACEo

in A proper light, particular accounts of each part
of the federal union seem to be necessary ; and
would answer o^^her valuable purposes. An able
historian, the Reverend Dr. Belknap, has obli-
ged the world with the history of New, Hamp-
shire. The following treatise is designed to
describe the operations of nature and society, iri
the adjacent state of Vermont. This is the
youngest of the states, an inland country, and
now rapidly changing from a vast tract of un-
cultivated wilderness, to numerous and exten-
sive settlements. In this stage of society, in-
dustry and economy seem to produce the great-
est effects, in the shortest periods of time.

The manner in Avhich the work has been ex-
ecuted, I am apprehensive will require much
candour in the reader. In the variety of sub-
jects which have come under contemplation, I
cannot flatter myself, that I have been free from
errors and mistakes : And the reason why sev-
eral of the subjects are so imperfectly consider-
ed, was because I had not the ability or infor-
mation to state them otherwise.

The American war considered with respect
to its causes, operations, or effects, presents to
our vievv some of the most important events^
•which have taken place in modern times : But
neither of these particulars can be comprehend-
ed in the history oi any particular state. To
give such an imperfect view of this subject as
could be properly contained in the history of
Vermont, did not appear eligible. No further
accounts therefore of the war, are inserted, than
what appeared necessary to explain the subject,
which I had more particularly in view.

PREFACE, 9

The controversies which took place between
the states of Vermont, New York, and New
H iinpshire, were of the most dangerous nature ;
and they were agitated for a while, with a vio-
lence greatly unfavorable to the peace and safety
of the whole union. Most of the wars which
have taken, place among mankind, have been
occasioned by disputes respecting territory and
jurisdiction : And however just or proper it
might be for any nation, to give up part of its
territory and dominion to its neighbours, such
a sacrifice was scarcely ever made without com-
pulsion, and force. To have expected New
York would voluntarily give up part of her ter-
ritory, when the decisions of the king, and the
•law were in her favor, was to expect that which
is never done by any sovereign or nation, while
they have power to prevent it. To have ex-
pected the people of Vermont would voluntarily
submit to a government, which set aside their
titles to the lands which they had purchased of"
the crown, and made valuable by their labours
and sufferings, was to look for that, which no
people ever ought to submit to, if it is in their
powiir to avoid it. When the states of New-
York, New Hampshire, and Vermont, had en-
gaged in a controversy of this kind, it was more
agreeable to the course of human affairs to ex-
pect it would produce a civil v/ar, than to look
for so much wisdom and moderatioa among
cither of the contending parties, as to prevent it.

In relating these controversies, I have felt a
constant anxiety, lest I should misrepresent the
proceedings of either of tho^e states. I had not
the interests or the passions which those parties

VOL. I. A

10 PREFACE.'

produced, to guard against ; nor am I appre-
hensive that prejudice has misled me, in rela-
ting any of those matters. But it is not improb-
able that I have not had compleat information in
some particulars, respecting those complicated
controversies ; and may have mistaken the views
of parties, in some of their leading transactions^*
If this should be found to be the case, it will
give me great pleasure to receive such further
information, a§ shall enable me to correct any
mistakes. Those who point out to us our errors,
perform the same friendly office, as those who
help us to new truths.

The most important of all our philosophical
speculations, are those which relate to the histo-
ry of man. In most of the productions of na-
ture, the subject is fixed, and may always be
found and viewed in the same situation. And
hence a steady course of observation, serves to
discover and ascertain the laws by which they
are governed, and the situation they will assume
in other periods of time. It is probable the ac-
tions and affairs of men are subject to as regu-
lar and uniform laws, as other events : And that
the same state of society will produce the same
forms of government, the same manners, cus-
toms, habits, and pursuits, among different na-
tions, in whatever part of the earth they may re-
side. Monarchy, freedom, superstition, truth
and all the general causes which actuate man-
kind, seem every where to bear the same aspect,
to operate with the same kind of influence, and
to produce similar effects ; differing not in their
nature and tendency, but onl}'- in the circum-
stances and degrees, in which they influence dif-

PREFACE. H

ferent nations. But nothing is stationary, noth-
ing that depends upon the social state, is so un-
alterably fixed, but that it will change and vary
with the degradation or improvement of the hu-
man race. And hence, while the nature of man
remains unaltered, the state of society is per-
petually changing, and the men of one age and
country, in many respects appear different from
those of another. And as men themselves are
more or less improved, every thing that consti-
tutes a part of the social state, will bear a differ-
ent appearance among different nations, and in
the same nation in different circumstances, and
in different periods of time. To ascertain what
there is thus peculiar and distinguishing in the
state of society in the Federal Union, to explain
the causes which have led to this state, to mark,
its effect upon human happiness, and to deduce
improvement from the whole, are the most im-
portant objects which civil history can contem-
plate in America : And they are objects, every
W'here more useful to men, than any refinements,
distinctions, or discoveries, merely speculative.
I have wislied to keep such objects in view,
in considering the state of society in this part of
the continent : But it is with difHdence that I
submit the attempt to the view of the public.
The disposition of America is to favor such at-
tempts and publications, as are adapted to pro-
mote any valuable public purpose : But specu-
lative and useless essays cannot much engage
the attention of a people, whose main object is
the prosperity and improvement of their country.
The public sentiment will be a just decision, a-
mong vv'hich of these, the following work ought
to be placed.

ADVERTISEMENT

TO THE

SECOND EDITIONc

THE Booksellers have desired me to
prepare the History of Vermont for another edi-
tion. The favorable reception which the pub-
lic gave to the work, has lead me to wish to
make it more perfect ; and my friends have
suggested that it v^^ould be of use to insert a
more particular account of the Wars^ \\hich
have taken place in this part of the continent.
From the earliest settlement of the English and
French colonies, contests arose, which gave rise
to a course of such events. The passage from
the one country to the other, lay through lake
Champlain. This circumstance rendered this
part of the country the, field of hostile opera-
tions, and bloody campaigns. I have endeavor-
ed to collect an account of these transactions ;
but have not had all the advantages of autlientic
documents and public libraries, to make these
researches so compleat as I wished. In making
these collections, and some necessary additions
to the natural and civil history of the State, the
sizes of the papers increased so much beyond
what I expected, that it was thought best to
publish them in two volumes.

In the narrations, the reader will find a mi-
RUttness '^f dates, facts, and circumstances, not
common in European productions ; and not
very entertaining ia itself. This method was

ADVERTISEMENT, he, 1$

adopted with choice, and by design. Persuaded
that the American com m on wealth is yet in the
early years of its infancy, and unable to compre-
hend to what extent, mcignitude, and dignity it
may arise ; the author of these sheets views the
history of a particular state, rather as a collection
of facts, circurnstances,andrecords, than as acom-
pleat and finished historical production. The more
important the United States shall become in the
future periods of time, of the more importance
it will be to be able to find a minute and au-
thentic account of the facts, proceedings, and
transactions, from whence the grand fabric arose.
To collect and record such facts and proceed-
ings, so far as they relate to this part of the
country, is what 1 have attempted. It gave me
pleasure to find that the first essay was not
viewed in an unfavorable light by the people of
Vermont ;* and I entertain the hope that ^vhat
is now offered to the public, will meet with their
approbation.

July 4, 1807.

f

* Letter from the Speaker of the General Assembly, to the Author of.
the History of Vermont.

Windsor, Oct. 12,1795,
Sir,

THE Representatives of the People entertain a lively sense of
your polite attention, by presenting them your Natural and Civil History^
of Vermont ; and of the service you have rendered your country, by ad-
ding to the republic of letters so valuable a book.

I am directed, Sir, by them to return you their thanks, with their sin-
cere wishes, that your labor in this work, may prove as beneficial to your-
qejf, as it must be useful to your fellow citizens.

lam. Sir, with great respect and esteem,
Your most obedient servant,

J,. R. MOiLRIS, Speaker.
Tfce Rev. Dr. Samuel Williams, L. L= D.

CONTENTS.

ooo©oo
CHAPTER I.

Page. ;

Situation, Boundaries, Area, Soil, and j

Face of the Country. 21 \

CHAPTER n. ;

MouNTAiNs....77z<?zr Direction, Altitude^ J

Tops, Caverns, the origin of Springs and \

Rivers, 26 '

CHAPTER HI. \

Rivers and \^ akes,... The Situation, Chan- \

nets, Intervales, Courses, Depf lis, and Ef \

fects of the Rivers. An account of Lake \

Champ lain, a?id Memphremagog, 39 \

CHAPTER IV. i

Climate 4ji account of the Temperature, ;

Winds, Rain, Snow, and Weather. The ■

change of Climate which has attended the \

cultivation of the Country. 53 1

CHAPTER V. \

Vegetab'le Productions. ..i^ord"^? Trees, '\

Esculent and Medicinal Vegetables. Re~ \

marks on the Magnitude, JVumbtm, Age, \

Evaporation, Emission of Air, Heat, and ■ \

Effects of the Trees, 81 -

CHAPTER VI. \

Native Animals. ..^/z account of the Qua- *

drupeds ; with observations on their Enu- \

meration, Origin, Migration, Species^ '

Magnitude, Disposition, and multiplying ]

Power, The Birds, Fishes, Reptiles, and \

Insects. 98 i

U CONTENTS. :

CHAPTER VIT. ■

Original In habit ants... .The JEmploi/'

ments, Civil Governme?it, Sz/stem of Ifar, \

Education^ Manners, and Customs of the J

Indians ; the Advantages^ and DisadvaU' \

tages of the Savage State. 160 \

CHAPTER VHI. ;

Original l^n abit at^ts.^. .Observations

on the origin of the Indians, their Antiqui- ).

ty, progress of Society:, and tendency to :,

Dissohition. 225 \

CHAPTER IX. I

First Settlements and Wars with i

THE lNDiANS....Di\cove7'ies and settle' i

ments in their country by the French, ■

Origin and progress of War betxveen the \

JVatives and the Europeans. Influence of '\

the Priests. French Expeditions. Pro- \

eeedings of the Governor of JSfew York. j

Destruction of Montreal by the Iroquoise, \
From the year 1535, to 1689. 251

CHAPTER X. I

W An....The f?'st TFar between the English

and French Colonies, assisted by the In- '

dians ; from the year 1689 to 1750. Ef ]
feet of the Revolution in favor of TVil-

liam and Mary. Plans of the French. \

Destruction in New Hampshire, ^ Sche- i

nectady. First attempt to reduce Cana- ;

da. Sentiments of the Indians on that j
occasion. French Expedition against the

Mohawks. Destruction of Deerfeld. Se- j

icoud Expedition against Canada. Pro- j

(feedings of Schuyler. Third attempt tQ \

CONTENTS. 3^7

Page.

reduce Canada, . Proceedings at Osrvego
and Lake Ontario. Buildings and settle-
ment at Fort St. Frederick at Croxvn
Point. Capture of Fort Massachusetts.
Proposed expedition against Croxmi Point.
Attempt upon the Fort at Charlestoxvn. 287
CHAPTER XL

"War Fro7n the year 1750, to 1757.

Conferences at Paris. Measures of the
French. Embassy and defeat of Wash-
ington. Views of the English and Prench
colonies. Congress and plan of Union at
Albany. Council of Generals and Gover-
nors at Alexandria. Expedition and de-
feat of Braddock. Success of Monckton
and Winslow^ in Nova Scotia. Proposed
Expedition to JViaga?'a. Proceedings of
Baron Dieskau at Lake Champlain. Vic-
tory of Johnson at Lake George. Ter-
inination of the campaigns of 1755. Mil-
itary arrangements of the British ministry
in 1756. Capture of Osrvego by Mont-
calm. Inactivity of the Earl of Loudon. 3S^
CHAPTER XH.

Vsl A'R.... Progress and events of the War in
the years 1757 and 1758. Loudon's pre-
parations for the campaign. Montcahn^s
measures with the Lidians. Designs upon
the English. Putnam's account of Webb^s
proceedijigs. Conquest of Fort William
Henry. Savage massacre of the prison-
ers. Reflections on Montcalm's conduct.
Result of the campaign in 1757. Change
gf the British councils and ministry,

VOL. I. B •

X8 CONTENTS.

Page.

Conquest of Loulsbourg. Ahercromhie^s
attempt and defeat at Ticonderoga. Cop- \

ture of fort Frontenac by Bradstreet. i

Of Fort Du Ques7ie by Forbes. Amherst \

assumes the command. 37^ <

CHAPTER XIIL
"V^ Kis.... .Progress and events of the War hi \

the years 1759 and 1760. Plan of the \

campaign for 1159. Conquest of Quebec
by general Wolfe. Capture of Ticonde- :

roga and Crown Point by ge7ieral Am-
herst. Expedition against the Indian
village of St. Francois by major Poge?'s. ■

P7'oceedings on Lake Champlain. Cap-
ture of Niagara by general Johnson. ;

Reflections on the campaign of 1159. \

Measures of Vaudrieul at Montreal^ in '\

1760. Plan and proceedings of general
Amherst. General Murray\s defeat at \

Quebec, and arrival at Montreal. Havi- :

land's arr'rcal at the river St. Laivrence..
Capitulation and surrender of Canada to ]

general Amherst. Reflections oji the \

origin of these Wars. Their ejf ects on I

the mo?'als, Utei'ature^ population, settle- i

menty and political state of the colonies* 4 IS :

CONTENTS. 19

APPENDIX.

Page.

No. I.

An account of the variation of the Magnetic
Needle in the Eastern States o 473

No. II.

Observations 07i the change of climate in Eu-
rope and other places, ,475

No. III.
An account of Frogs dug out of the earth at
Burlington, 479

No. IV.

Observations on the fascinating power of
Serpents, 483

No. V.
A dissertation on the colours of men, parti-
cularly on that of the Indians of America, 493

No. VI.
Garrangula's Speech. Aspecimenof
Indian policy y eloquence, and mamiers. 503

No. VII.
Monument of Lord Viscount Howe, m
Westminster Abbey. 505

No. VIIL
Monument erected to the memory of Gener-
al Wolfe, in Westminster Abbey, 505

■■*No. IX.
Inscription on the tomb of the Marguis De
Montcalm, at Quebec. 50^

THE
NATURAL AND CIVIL

HISTORY OF VERMONT.

CHAPTER I.

Situation f Boundaries ^ Area, Soil, and Fass
of the Country.

THE State of Vermont is situated be-
tween 42 degrees 44 minutes, and 45 degrees
of north latitude ; and between 1 degree 43
minutes, and 3 degrees 2»& minutes of longitude,
east from the meridian of Philadelphia. It is
altogether an inland country ; surrounded by
the States of Newhampshire, Massachusetts,
Newyork, and the Province of Canada. That
part of the State of Vermont which is nearest
to the sea coast, is at the distance of seventy or
eighty miles, from any part of the ocean.

On the south, Vermont is bounded by the
state of Massachusetts. This line is forty one
miles in length, and was a part of the divisional
line between Massachusetts and Newhampshire.
It was derived from the decision of a former
King of Great Britain. On March 5, 1740,
George the second, resolved, " That the nor-
thern boundary of the Province of Massachu-
setts, be a similar curve line, pursuing tlie course
of Merrimack river, at three miles distance, on
the north side thereof, beginning at the Atlantic

C

22 NATURAL AND CIVIL

ocean, and eiidlng at a point due north of Pa-
tuckct falls ; and a htraiffht line drawn thence
due west, until it meets ^vith his Majesty's oth-
er £^overnments." The point three miles north
of Patuclcet falls, was found to be in the town
of Bracut. From that point, the surveyor,
Ricliaxd Hazen, in the months of February and
March, 1741, ran the divisional line between
Ivlassachiisetts and Newhampshire. He was
directed by Mr. Belcher, at that time governor
of both thote provinces, to allow ten degrees
for the westerly -variation of the magnetic nee-
dle. The magnetic \'ariation, at that time and
place, -was not so great, as the surveyor assum-
ed : And when he arrived at Connecticut river,
a distance of fifty five miles, instead of being in
a west line, he had deviated to the north 2 min-
utes 57 seconds of latitude. This error in the
direction of the line, occasions a loss of 59,873
acres to Nevvhampshirc ; and of 133,897 acres
to Vermont.*

The eastern boundary of Vermont, is form-
ed by the west bank of Connecticut river.
Tills line, following the course of the river, is
about t^vo hundred miles ; and is derived from
the decree of George the third. On the 20th
of July, 1764, his Majesty ordered and declared,
" The western banks of the ri^-er Connecticut,
from where it enters the ProA^ince of Massachu-
setts Bay, as far north as the forty fifth degree
of northern latitude, to he the boundary line be-
tA\'een the two ProA'inces of Newhampshire and
Newyork."

The north line of the State begins at the lat-

*Appcndix I^o, ^

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 23

itude of 45 clep;recs north, and runs upon that
parallel, from Lake Champlain to Connecticut
river. This line is ninety miles and one quar- *
ter of a mile lon^^, and divides this part of the
United States from the Province of Canada.
Much pains was taken by the Provinces of
Newyork and Canada, to ascertain the latitude .
of 45 by astronomical observations. This was
done by commissioners from both Provinces, in
the month of September, 1767. At the place
vvhere the line crosses Lake Champlain, they
erected a monument of stone, which is } et
, standing. The line was afterwards run in the
year 1772 by L Carden and L Collins of Que-
bec, but with great error. By order of Gover-
nor Tichenor, in 1806, 1 examined the situation
of this line in the eastern part of the state. By
astronomical observations I found the mo-
nument they had erected on the eastern bank
of lake Memphremagog, was b\ the latitude of
44 degrees 53 minutes 46 seconds ; and at
Connecticut river, their monument was in the
latitude of 44 degrees 47 minutes 59 seconds.
Admitting their line to have been run in a
straight course, tliis would imply an error of
8 degrees 52 minutes 19 seconds in the direc-
tion ; and occasions the loss to Vermont of
401973 and an half acres of land ; equal to
17 44-lOOths townships. The direction of
Connecticut river is from the northeast, and on
that account if the divisional line was continued
on the parallel of 45 degrees till it intersected
the river, one or two more tov, nships of land
would accrue to Vermont. This line ariseth
from the proclamation of George the third, of

24 NATURAL AND CIVIL

October 7, 1763, determining the southern
boundary of the province of Quebec ; and from
the treaty of peace between Britain and the
States of America, in 1783.

Beginning at the southwest comer of the
town of PoMTial, the west line of Vermont runs
northerly, along the western boundaries of the
townships of Pownal, Bennington, Shaftsbury,
Arlington, Sandgate, Rupert, Pawlet, Wells,
and Poultne}', as the said townships are now
held and possessed, to the river commonly cal-
led Poultney river ; thence down the same,
through the middle of the deepest channel there-
of, to East Bay ; thence through the middle of
the deepest channel of East Bay, and the waters
thereof, to %vhere the sahie communicate with
Lake Champlain j thence through the middle
of the deepest channel of Lake Champlain, to
the eastward of the islands called the Four
Brothers, and to the westward of the Islands
called the Grand Isle, and Long Isle, or the Two
Heroes, and to the westward of the Isle la Mott,
to the forty fifth degree of north latitude. This
line is about one hundred and seventy miles in
length ; and results from the declaration of the
commissioners of Newyork, of October 7,
1 790 ; and the concurring act of the General
Assembly of the State of Vermont, passed Oc-
tober 28, 1790.

Computing by the latitudes, the length of the
State from the southern to tlie northern bounda-
ry, is one hundred and fifty seven miles and an
half. The mean width from east to west is a-
bout sixty five miles. This will give 10,237
and an half square miles, or 6,552,000 acres, as

HISTORY OF VERMONT. ^5

the superficial area contained within the boun-
daries of Vermont ; but a considerable deduc-
tion must be made, to exclude the waters, and
reduce it to the just quantity of land.

The land included within these limits, is of a
very fertile nature, fitted for all the purposes and
productions of agriculture. The soil is deep,
and of a dark colour ; rich, moist, warm, and
loamy. It bears corn and other kinds of grain,
in large quantities, as soon as it is cleared of the
•wood, without any ploughing or preparation :
And after the first crops, naturally turns to rich
pasture or mowing.

The face of the country exhibits very differ-
ent prospects. Adjoining to our rivers, we
have the wide extensive plains, of a fine level
country. At a small distance from them, the
land rises into a collection and chain of high
mountains, intersected with deep and long val-
lies. Descending from the mountains, the
streams and rivers appear in every part of the
country, and afford a plentiful supply of water.

26 NATURAL AND CIVIL

CHAPTER IL

"Mout^ TAINS. ---Their Direction, Altitude, Tops^
Caverns, the Origin of Springs and Rivers,

IN the formation of our mountains, na-
ture has constructed her works on a large scale ;
and presents to our view objects, whost magni-
tude and situation, naturally engage our atten-
tion. Through the whole tract of country
which lies between the -west side of Connecti-
cut river, and the east side of Hudson's river,
and Lake Champlain, there is one continued
range of mountains. These mountains begin
in the Province of Canada : From thence, they
extend through the States of Vermont, Massa-
chusetts, and Connecticut, and terminate within
a few miles of the sea coast. Their general di-
rection is from N. N. E. to S. S. W. and
their extent is through a tract of country, not
less than four hundred n-^iles in length. They
are one continued range or collection of moiui-
tains, a})pearing as if they were piled one upon
another. They are generally from ten to fifteen
miles in width, are much intersected with val-
lics, abound with springs, and streams of water,
and are ever}- where co\ ered with woods. Their
appearance, is among the most grand and ma-
jestic phenomena, v.hich nature exhibits. From
the perpetual verdure which they exhibit, they
" are called the Green Mountains ; and with
great propriety their name lias been assigned to
the State.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 27

The altitude of mountains, has been one of
the curious inquiries, which the philosophers of
tliis century have been solicitous to determine.
The most common method of measuring their
heights, has been by the Barometer. I do not
know that in many cases, a better method could
have been applied. The theory however of
this, is not attended with certainty, or precision :
And in its application, it has generally gi'> eu
very diflerent altitudes, to the same mountain.
Geometrical mensurations admit of greater cer-
tainty and simplicity, where they can be appli-
ed : But the difficulty and expence of making
such mensurations, liave prevented any great
progress from being made, in this part of the
natural history of die earth. In North Ameri-
ca, the height of most of our mountains, re-
mains yet to be determined. In December^
1792, I attempted to ascertain the altitude of
Kellington Peak, one of the highest of the greeu
mountains, by a geometrical process ; and had
the happiness to succeed in the mensuration.
The measures stood thus,

Height of Kellington Peak above the Feet,
plain at the State House in Rutland,
by geometrical mensuration, - - 28 IS
Height of the State House above the wa-
ters of Lake Chaniplain, deduced
from the mensuration of tlie falls of
Otter Creek, and a computation of
other descents, - - - - 371
Descent of the water from that part of
Lake Champlain where tl\e current be-
. gins, to St. John's, a distance of fifty
miles, estimated at 12 inches toamile, 50

28 NATURAL AND CIVIL

Falls between St. John's and Chamble,

estimated, - - . . 40

Descent of the water from the bason of
Chamble to Quebec, a distance of one
hundred and eighty miles, estimated
at twelve inches to a mile, - - 180
Admitting the waters of the river St. Law-
rence at Quebec, to be of the same level as the
sea, the altitude of Kellington Peak, by these
measures and computations, is 3454 feet above
the level of the ocean. The altitude at which
a perpetual congelation takes place in this lati-
tude (43 degrees 30 minutes) is about 8066
feet above the level of the sea. This is proba-
bly four fifths of a mile higher than the tops of
our highest mountains.* But although they

* Mount Blanc in Savoy, is the highest mountain in Europe, and
probably the highest in the other hemisphere. In 1787 its altitude wa*
found by M. de Saussure to be 15,673 English feet above the level of
the sea. In the southern parts of America, M. Bougucr found the high-
est part of the Cordilleras, to be 20,590 feet in height ; this is the high-
est ofany upon the globe. In Virginia, according to Mr. Jefferson, the
mountains of the Blue ridge, and of these the Peaks of Otter, arc thought
to be of the greatest height, measured from their base. " From data,"
saith he, " xvhich may found a tolerable conjecture, we suppose the
highest peak to be about 4000 feet perpendicular." (Notes on Virginia,
Pkila. Edit. p. 18.) The white mountain* in the northeasterly part of
Newhampshirc, are generally esteemed to be the highest lands in New-
cngland. Their altitude has not been determined by geometrical men-
«uration, but there is one circumstance attending their phenomena,
Tvhich may serve to denote their altitude, with much probability. From
the observations which have been made of their tops, it appears that the
altitude of the highest of the white mountains, is below the point of
perpetual congelation. On June 19, 1774, on the south side, in one of
the gullies, the snow was five feet deep. On September 1,1783, the top»
«f the mountain was covered with ice and snow, newly formed. In 1784,
snow was seen on the south side of the largest mountain, until July I2th.
In 1790, the snow lay until the month of August. In general, the moun-
tuin begins to be covered with snow as early as September ; but it goes off
again, and seldom becomes fixed until the end of October, or the begin-
ning of November : But from that time, it remains until July. (Belknap's
Hist. Newhampshire, 3.46,47.) From these observations it is apparent,
that the white mountains rise nearly to the lineof perpetual congelation
in that latitude, but do not fully come up to it. These mountains are ia
tJie latitude of44 degrees 15 minutes north. The line of perpetual conge-
latiou in that latitude^ a deduced from the observations which have b€c«

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 2D

are far below the freezing point in summer,
their phenomena and productions are very much
affected by the degree of cold, to which they
are constantly exposed.

The tops of our rhountains are generally
composed of rocks, covered over with moss.
The trees appear to be very aged, but they are
of a small size ; and all of them are of the spe-
cies called evergreens ; pine, spruce, hemlock
and fir ; intermixed with shrubs and bushes.
The powers of vegetation regularly diminish, as
we approach the summit of an high mountain ;
the trees degenerate in their dimensions, and
frequently terminate in a shrubbery of spruce
and hemlock, two or three feet high ; whose
branches are so interwoven and knit together,
as to prevent our passing between them. Trees
thus diminished, with shrubs and vines bearing
different berries, and a species of grass called
winter grass, mixed with the moss of the rocks,
are all the vegetable productions, which nature
brings forth on the tops of our highest moun-
tains.

The sides of our mountains are generally
very irregulai', and rough ; and some of tliem
appear to have large apertirres, or openings a-
mong the rocks. Among these subterraneous
passages, some caverns of a considerable extent
have been found. One of these is at Claixn-
don, on the southeast side of a mountain, in the

made in Europe, is 787Z feet above the level of the sea. From the greater
coldness of the American climate, the poLntof perpetual congelation in a
similar American latitude, cannot exceed, but must rather fail something
short of this. The altitude therefore of the white mountains, cannot be
estimated as more than 7800 feet above the level of the ocean ; and this
ts probably the altitude of the highest mountains in the eastern states.

D

30 NATURAL AND CIVIL

westerly part of the town. The mouth of the
cave is not more than two and an half feet in
diameter. In its descent, the passage makes
an angle with the horizon of 35 or 40 degrees ;
but continues of nearly the same diameter,
through the Avliole length, which is thirty one
feet and an half.--- At that distance from the
mouth, it opens into a spacious room ; twenty
feet long, twelve feet and an half wide, and eigh-
teen or twenty feet high. Every part of the
floor, sides, and roof of this room, appear to be
a solid rock, but very rough and uneven. The
water is continually percolating through the top,
and has formed stalactites of various forms ;
many of which are conical, and some have the
appearance of massive columns. ---At the north
part of this room, there is another aperture of
about forty inches diameter, very rough and
uneven. This aperture is the beginning of an-
other passage, through the internal parts of a
solid rock : The direction of this passage is
oblique, and full of stops or notches, and its
length about twenty four feet. Descending
through this aperture, another spacious room
opens to view. The dimensions of this apart-
ment are twenty feet in width, thirty in length,
and twenty in height. In the spring of the year,
the whole of this lower room is full of water ;
and at all other seasons, water is to be found in

the lower parts of it No animal has been

found to reside in this cave, and it evidently
appears to be the production of nature, untouch-
ed by the hand of man.---Another of these cav-
erns is at Danby, and a third at Dorset. These
are said to be more curious than this at Claren-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 31

^on, but they have not been properly explored.
There are others in different parts of the state :
All of them are the genuine productions of na-
ture ; never altered by art, and never inhabited
by any of the human race.

One of the most curious and important oper-
ations which nature carries on in the mountains,
is the formation of springs and rivers. All our
streams of water in Vermont, have their rise a-
mong the green mountains : From a number
of these uniting, are formed ail those brooks
and rivers, which run in different directions
through the various parts of the country : And
in general, the origin of rivers is to be found in
the mountains, or high lands. In what manner
do the mountams serve to produce these effects ?
And whence is it, that the highest mountains
attract, collect, become the reservoirs, the re-
ceptacles, or the source, of the largest and most
constant collections of water ? One part of this
effect, seems to be derived from the constant
ascent of the waters, from the bowels to the
surface of the earth. That v/ater is contained
in large quantities in the bowels of the earth, is
evident from the springs which are found in al-
most all declivities ; and from those which ev-
ery where supply wells, at the depth of twenty
or thirty feet from the surface of the earth.
That these waters are constantly ascending to-
wards the surface of the earth, and going off in-
to the atmosphere, is evident from the evapora-
tion which is constantly taking place, and from
the manner in which heat, or as it is generally
expressed, a drought affects both the surface of
the earth, and the springs, by raising and dissi-

32 Nx\TURAL AND CIVIL

pating the water from both. If this ascent of
the waters be obstructed by any strata of clay,
rocks, or any other substance, through which
they cannot pa§s, they will collect in such quan-
tities, as to form or find for themselves a clian-
nel, through which they may be discharged.
The place of this discharge can only be on the
side of a hill, or in some ground below the lev-
el of that place, where they are thus collected :
And at such a place the waters would continue
to issue out, as long as they continued to as-
cend, whatever might be the severity or dura-
tion of a drought. In some such way, it ap-
pears probable to me, that some of the springs
are formed in the mountains, by waters which
are ascending towards the surface of the earth ;
but which, instead of going off at the top, have
their discharge in small quantities, at the sides
of the mountains. Any strata of clay, rocks,
or of any other matter, which would retain the
water ■v\'hen it descends in rain or dew, and
produce a spring from tlieir descent, would also
prevent the ascending water from passing tliro'
them, and might produce a spring from their
ascent. This ascent of the waters from the
bowels to the surface of the earth, is a constant,
po^verful, and unceasing operation of nature :
And seems to be the only cause, which is ade-
quate to the formation of those springs, which
arc perennial. Such springs could scarcely be
formed, or preserved, by the watei's which d.t-
scend in rain, because they are so little affected
in the severest droughts : In these seasons, in-
stead of being replenished by rain, the earth to
jthe depth of many feet, is much exhausted of

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 33

ks water by heat. And no rain can ever fall
upon the surface of the earth, which was not
first carried off from it, by evaporation.

Mountains serve also to form sm.all streams
and rivulets, by preventing the evaporation of
water from their surfaces. The vapours out of
which the clouds and rains are formed, are all
of them first raised from the surface of the
earth. When the evaporation is in an open
field, exposed to the sun and wind, the exhala-
tions are soon carried off into the atmosphere,
and the stirtace of the earth is left dry. When
the evaporation is horn lands covered over with
tliick trees and bushes, the influence of the sun
and winds are much prevented ; and the waters
stagnate upon the surface of the earth, and ren-
der it wet and miry, in the form of swamps,
and confined v/aiers. When the evaporation is
from the sides and toj^s of mountains, covered,
with vegetables, the waters are but slowly car-
ried off by the heat and wind ; nor can they
stagnate, but will be gradually and constantly
descending down the sides of the mountains, in
natural or ai'tificial channels : And in this way,
the mountains v,"ill also be constantly producing
small streams or rivulets.

A similar effect will also be produced by the
condensation and collection of the vapours in
the atmosphere, occasioned by the height and
coldness of the mountains. When the weather
is fair and clear, and the atmosphere serene and
pleasant in the vallies, the tops of the mountains
are often obscured, and covered with a thick
fog or cloud. In the cool mornings of the
spring and fall, the vapours form a thick fog on

54 NATURAL AND CIVIL

the sides and tops of the mountains, which do
not dissolve and disappear, until the sun has
risen several degrees above the horizon, and
the heat is considerably increased. In damp
and rainy weather, the largest part of the clouds
seem to collect, and dissolve upon the moun-
tains. In winter the snows fall sooner^ lie deep-
er, and continue longer on the mountains, than
on any other part of the country. These phe-
nomena denote a greater, and a more constant
collection of vapours and clouds by the moun-
tains, than takes place any where else ; and it
seems to be occasioned by the greater degree
of cold, 'which prevails in those elevated situa-
tions. The highest parts of our mountains gen-
erally abound with rocks, and are co^^ered with
large quantities of thick green moss ; so exten-
sive, compact, and thick, as to reach from one
4-cck to another, and of so firm a contexture as
to beai' the Vv^eight of a man, without being
broken. These immense beds of moss retain
the moisture supplied by the clouds and rain :
And while part of it runs down the sides of the
mountains, part will be detained by the spungy
surface, to penetrate and sink into the earth.
On this account, and for want of a more rapid
evaporation, several of our mountains are con-
stantly wet on their tops, and have marshy
spots, which are frequented by the aquatic
birds. The roads over these mountains are
frequently very. wet and miry, when the valleys
belcv/ are dry. When the waters thus supplied
by the clouds and rain, meet with any strata
wliich prevent their descent, they collect in such
quimtities as to form a channel, and issue out

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 35

at the sides of the mountain in the form of
springs and rivulets. All those springs, which
are intermitting^ seem to be thus formed by the
rains, or descending waters : And the more
constant and regular the rains are, the more
permanent and steady will tliese springs be :
Such kinds of intermitting springs are to be
found in great numbers, on the sides of all high
mountains. They never fail to run while the
rains continue in their usual quantities ; but
when the rains cease, and a severe drought
comes on, these springs are always found to fail.

In each of these v/ays, the mountains supply
water for the springs and streams, out of Vvhich,
the rivers are formed : And they are such as
can never fail, while the present economy of
nature shall subsist. But as the country be-
comes cultivated, some of the smaller streams
must decrease ; and it is not improbable that
when the ^voods shall be cut down, some of tlie
lesser springs will ^vholly disappear.

The writers on natural history have been
much divided in their opinions respecting the
origin of springs and rivers. ]M, De La Hire
contends that the water from which the rivers
are supplied, must be derived from the sea, and
raised through the pores of the earth : That no;
other source would be sufficient to produce
those immense streams, that constantly appear
in the form of brooks and rivers ; or tJiat could
supply the vast quantities that ai'e employed in
vegetation, or discharged into the atmosphere
by evaporation. Hist, de I'Acad. 1713. p. 5^,
Dr. Halley, on the other hand, has said much
to show that the vapors which ai'e exhaled frora

36 NATURAL AND CIVIL

tlie sea, and driven upon the lands by the winds,-
and return in the form of rains, are more thait
sufficient to supply the earth with all the water
that it needs ; and to form the fountains, springs,
and rivers, which are perpetually discharging
themselves into the ocean, Phil. Trans. Vol.
2. p. 128.

Both these theories agree in deriving the
water originally from the sea ; nor does there
seem much difficulty in admitting the principle
of either : The former seems most naturally to
account for those perennial springs, which nev-
er fail when the rains have ceased for months ;
and the latter serves to explain the cause of
those, v/hich are temporary, or intermitting.

In tlie plains, hills, and mountains in this
part of the continent, there is scarcely a place
in which water may not be found at the depth
of thirty or forty feet from the surface of the
earth ; nor does there appear to be any more
difficult}^ to have a well with permanent water,
in the one than in the other of these situations.
It must therefore be admitted as a well estab-
lished fact, that the earth at that depth is well"
saturratcd ^vith water ; nor does it fail, nor is
the temperature of the earth at that depth much
affected, in the hottest, or in the dryest season
that we ever hsLve. It may be presumed there-
fore that the effect of the solar heat, and the
evaporation produced by it, does not extend
much below that depth ; and that every where
below, the earth is saturrated with water by the
attraction or affinity that takes place between'
the particles of the one and those of the other.

It is customary with the farmers in the

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 37

New Enarland states to avail themselves of this
process of nature, and to form a perennial sprmg
for their own convenience. The method of pro-
ceeding is this, on the side of a hill they dig a
well, till they come to a sufficient quantity of
water, generally from eighteen to forty feet be-
low the surface. A passage is then dug from
the bottom of the well to the side of the hill,
that the water may find a regular discharge
through the artificial channel, when it is receiv-
ed and retained in troughs or other receptacles
for the use of their cattle. In this way artificial
springs are often formed, which do not fail in
our dryest summers, but become perennial^ and
are in every respect as permanent and useful as
those which are formed by nature. From
whence is the water derived that supplies these
artificial perennial springs ? Not certainly from
rains and showersj which are casual, accidental,
and variable ; but from waters which are always
in the earth at that depth, and lie too far beneath
the surface to be much affected by rain or
drought.

If in this way we are able to form artificial
perennial springs, is it to be much doubted but
that nature does the same in a much more ex-
tensive and perfect manner ? And would not
this be always the effect, when the water in our
hills and mountains can find or force for itself a.
passage, at the side or bottom of the declivity ?
The phenomena seem to denote such operations
and effects. In all our mountains perennial
springs are found issuing at their sides or bot-
toms. In our most extensive and sandy plains
perennial springs are often found at the bottom
E

38 NATURAL AND CIVIL

of their declivities. These springs continue,
when the whole plain for many miles round is
so parched and burnt up with drought, that ve-
getation almost ceases. Could these springs be
supplied with water derived from rain, when it
has ceased for months ; or has not been enough
to preserve the vegetables from perishing ?
From what other source then could they be
supplied, but from the water which is perma-
nently and plentifully in the bowels of the earth,
and is not dissipated or wasted by evaporation
or heat ?

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 39

CHAPTER HL

Rivers and lakes. —7%^ Situation, Chan-
nelsy Intervales, Courses, Depths, and Effects
of the Rivers. An account of Lake Cham-
plain, and Memphremagog.

ALL the streams and rivers of Ver-
mont, have their origin among the green moun-
tains. About thirty five of them have an east-
erly direction, and fall into Connecticut river.
About tvi^enty five run westerly, and discharge
themselves into Lake Champlain : Two or three,
running in the same direction, fall into Hud-
son's river. In the northeasterly parts of the
state, there are four or five streams which have
a northerly direction, and run into the lajce
Memphremagog ; from thence, through the
river St. Francis, they are emptied into the riv-
er St. Lawrence.

The most considerable streams on the west
side of the green mountains, are Otter creek^
Onion river, the river Lamoille, and Michis-

coui Otter creek rises in Bromley ; runs

northerly about ninety miles, and falls into
Lake Champlain at Ferrisburgh ; and in its
course receives about fifteen smaller streams.
There are large falls in this river at Rutland,
Pittsford, Middlebury, and Vergennes. Be-
tween these falls, the current is very slow, the
water is deep, and it is navigable for the largest
boats. Vessels of any burden may come up to
the falls at Vergennes, five miles from its mouth.
The head of this river in Bromley is not more

40 NATURAL AND CIVIL

than thirty feet from the head of Batton Kill,
which runs in a contrary direction, and falls into
Hudson's river.

Onion river, was fonnerly called the French
river, and by the Indians, Winooski. It rises
in Caboi-, about fourteen miles to the west of
Connecticut river, and thirty miles to the east
of the heights of the green mountains. A small
southerly branch rises in Wasliington and Co-
rinth, not more than ten miles from Connecti-
cut river. From this southerly branch, Onion
river runs northwesterly, about sc\'enty fi\'e
miles, and empties itself into Lake Champlain,
between Burlington and Colchester.. This riv-
er receives fourteen smaller streams,, and is navi-
gable for small vessels, five miles from its
mouth. It has several falls, between which it
is navigable for boats. At one of these falls in
Waterbury, the channel of the riA^er becomes,
very narrow, and passes between a high ledge
of rocks on each side. A huge unshapely rock,
in some ancient time, hath fallen from one of
these ledges, in such a manner, that the whole
river now runs under it. The rock forms a
kind of natural bridge, but one that can ne^'er
be of any use ; as neither tlie shape of the rock,
or the situation of the adjacent banks, Avill ever
admit of a road either to, or over the rock. . A-
bout six miles from its mouth, between Bur-
lington and Colchester, the channel of this riv-
er is formed by a solid rock. The channel
through the rock, by estimation, is fifteen rods
in length, fifty feet wide, and seventy feet deep.
Every appearance seems to denote that this
channel was formed by the water, which in this

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 41

place could not have had any other passage.—
Onion river is one of the finest streams in Ver-
mont. It runs through a most fertile country,
the produce of which for several miles on each
side of the river, is brought down to the Lake
at Burlington. It was along this river, that the
Indians formerly travelled from Canada, when
they made their attacks upon the frontier settle-
ments on Connecticut river.

The river Lamoille proceeds from a pond in
Glover. Its general course is westerly : After
running about seventy five miles, and receiving
fourteen lesser streams, it falls into Lake Cham-
plain at Colchester, five miles north of the
mouth of Onion river ; and is of the same mag-
nitude as that. The river Lamoille is a fine,
smooth, and pleasant stream ; and runs through
a rich, level, fertile, country. The height of
the land in the northeast part of the state, seems
to btf about Greenborough. About six miles
to the southwest of the origin of the river La-
moille, is Scotland pond : From this proceeds
Black river, which, for five or six miles runs in
a direction opposite to, and nearly parallel, with
that of the river Lamoille, and discharges itself
into the lake Memphremagog.

MicHiscoui is the Indian name of the most
northerly river in the state. It has its source
in Belvidere, and runs nearly northeast until it
has crossed the north line of Vermont : After
running to some distance in Canada, it turns
west, and then southerly, and then reenters the
state in Richford ; and falls into Lake Cham-
plain at Michiscoui bay, in Highgate. This
river is navigable for the largest boats to the

42 NATURAL AND CIVIL

falls at S wanton, seven miles from its mouth,
Michiscoiii, Lamoille, and Onion river, are
nearly of the same magnitude.

On the east side of the green mountains, the
rivers are not so large as those on the west, but
they are more numerous. The largest of them
are Wantastitquek or West river, White river,
and Poousoomsuck. Wantastitquek has its
main source in Bromley, about three miles
southeast from the head of Otter creek. Its
course is to the southeast j it receives seven or
eig-ht smaller streams ; and after running about
thirty seven miles, fills into Connecticut river
at Brattleborouo-h. At its mouth this river is
about fifteen rods wide, and ten or twelve feet
deep.

TiiE north branch of White river, rises in
Kingston. The south branch has its source iri
Philadelphia. From Kingston, the general
course of this river is southerly ; its length a-
bout fifty miles ; it receives six or seven lesser
streams ; and falls into Connecticut river at
Hartford. White river abounds with falls and
rapids ; at its mouth it is about eighteen rods
in width, but not more than ten feet in depth.

Poousoomsuck,' rises from a pond in West-
more. Its course is southerly ; it is made up
of ten lesser streams ; and after running about
fort}^ five miles, it joins Connecticut river in
Barnet. It is there twelve rods wide, and eight
feet deep.

CoNNEcncuT river, into which these
streams fall, forms the eastern boundarv of the
gtate. The original Indian aame, ^vhich it stiU

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 43

bears, signifies the long rivef.* This river has
its source in a ridge of mountains, which extend
northeasterly to the gulph of St. Lawrence.
The head of its northwestern branch, is about
twenty five miles beyond the latitude of forty
five degrees ; and so far it has been surveyed.
When it first enters the state, it is about ten
rods Vv'ide ; and in the course of sixty miles in-
creases in its width to twenty four rods. Its
course between Vermont and Newhampshirc, a
distance of two hundred miles, is southwesterly ;
from thence to its mouth, the course is more
southerly. After running about four hundred
miles through the country, and receiving a
great number of other streams and rivers, it
discharges itself into the ocean at Seabrook.---
V/ith respect to its length, utility, and beauty,
this is one of the finest rivers in the eastern
states. In the months of April or May, it over-
flows its banks ; and for a length of three hun-
dred miles, forms and fertilizes a vast tract of
rich meadow. Vessels of eighty or one hun-
dred tons, go up this river as far as Hartford in
Connecticut, fifty miles from its mouth. It is
navigable for boats, three hundred miles further,
except the falls which the states of Vermont,
Massachusetts, and Connecticut, are now ma-
king navigable by locks. While it increases
the richness, and serves to transport the produce^
by its perpetual majestic movement through an

• The nSmes which the original inhabitants assigned to our moun-
tains, plains, and valleys, are mostly lost. Many of our rivers, bays, and
falls of water, are yet known by their ancient Indian names. On account
of their originality, antiquity, signification, singularity, and sound, thess
names ought to be carefully preserved. In every respect they are far
preferable to the unmeaning application, aad constant repetition of ap im-
proper Ejigliih nzms.

44 NATURAL AND CIVIL

immense tract of countr}'-, it is always adding
beautjT^ and grandeur to the prospect.

To this account of our rivers, some observa-
tions may be added respecting tlieir operations
and effects. ---Their first operation seems to
have been, to form themselves a channel. The
highest waters descend along the mountains, un-
til they meet with some obstacle to obstruct
their motion. Whatever this obstacle may be,
it operates as a dam, and serves to collect the
waters into a small pond or lake. Two causes
are constantly raising the waters, in such col-
lections : The earth is perpetually brought dowii
by the waters, to the bottom of such ponds ;
and the water is constantly rising by its own
accumulation. When it is raised above the
banks, the waters find their passage in the low-
est part, and begin to form a channel there ; and
a channel thus formed, will constantly be made
more and more deep, by the perpetual running
of the water. A similar operation must take!
place through the \\hole course of the river,
from its first rise and source, to its final dis-
charge into the waters of the ocean. Their
channels must at first have been formed by
their waters ; which, constantly accumulating,
and struggling for a passage, approach, or dis-
charge themselves into the neafest situation they
cotiki take to the centre of the earth.

In this descent and passage to the ocean, all
the large rivers in this part of America, have
also formed large tracts of intervale lands. By
intervales we mean those low lands, which are
adjacent to the rivers, and are frequently over-
flowed by them in the spring and fall, or whenev-

HISTORY OF VERMONT, 45

er the waters are raised to their greatest height.
These intervales are level, and extensive plains ;
of the same altitude as the banks of the river ;
in width they often reach from a quarter of a
mile, to a mile and an half, sometimes on one,
and sometimes on both sides of the river.
There are frequently two strata of the intervales,
the one four or jBve feet higher than the other ;
the highest of which is not overflowed, but
when the waters are raised to an uncommon
height ; but they are level, and extensive like
the other. Both of them have many indications,
that they were formed by the waters of the riv-
ers. The soil is always of that rich mud and
slime, which is brought down by the rivers in
the spring. In digging into these lands, vari-
ous appearances of decaying vegetables are fre-
quently found. The strata formed at particular
years, are easily distinguished ; and the origin-
al and new made soil are so different, as to be
readily known. The limbs and trunks of large
and sound trees, are often found at various
depths ; sometimes so low as forty feet below
the surface. The small islands in these inter-
vales, are of a diiferent soil, and less rich ; and
are evidently the tops of small hills, which have
not been covered by the inundations of the riv-
ers. These long and level surfaces are peculi-
ar to the banks of rivers, and consist of the
same rich manure which is yet annually brought
down, and deposited by the waters. The cause^
by which they are now annually increased, could
not fail to have produced such effects, in the
course of a long series of years.

In these intervales there are several places,
F

45 NATURAL AND CIVIL

vhcre another curious phenomenon occurs.
The rivers have chciiiged their courses, their
ancient char.nelo are kft dry, and they have
formed new ones. In the uncultivated •pivctt of
the countrv, ^vherc the operations of nature
have not been ai.ercd or changed, the traveller
finds many places where the rivers formerly
rolled, which are now dry, and at a considerable
distance, sometimes a mi-e or n:ore from the
present beds of ihose rivers. In some of these
ancient channels, the waters must have run for
a long number of ages ; as they hove worn the
surface of the s'oncs as smooth as those, v.hich
•arc to be four;d on the sea shores. In som^e
places the former channels are left dry, abound-
ing with smooth stones and rocks : In others,
the channels are converted into ponds, or over-
g-'own with bubhes or trees. Appearances of
this kiiid are common in all the mountainous
parts of the country ; and something of the
same kind, is constantly taking place in most of
our rivers. In all large streams, the channel is
more or less afi'ectcd every year : Strips of
land, one or two rods in width, and of some
miles in length, are often carried off in the
spring ; and additions are made to the banks in
oiher places. The lands thus form.d, in some
pluces, in the course of a few years amount to
several acres, and aj'e of an uncommion richness
and fertility ; but they are ahvays attended with
an equal loss in som.e oiher part of the river.

The dej.th of the clianne s which our rivers
have ibrmed, depends upon a variety of circum-
stances : The nature of the soil, the declivity
oi tlie river, tiie siluatioa of lijie adjacent banks.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 47

the quantity of water, he. Their channels have
been formed two ways, by the wearin,^ -'^^'■^ y of
tlie ground in some pl.ces, and by forming or
raising the intervale lands in others ; but most
generally the channels of our rivers have been
formed in bo^h these ways. In large stream*;
passing tfirough the intervales which -hey h. ve
formed, and moving with a gentle force, the
depth of the channels appear to have a sirnilari-
tv, or at least a resem.blance. The depth of ahe
channels in such siiUdLicns, in sundry places m
Connecticut river, OLiercreek and Onion river
is forty or fifty feet below that of the adjacent
banks. But the alteration in the depth of tlicse
channels, is so gradual and slow, that it has
scarcely been perceptible, since the first settle-
ment of the country by the English.

It is not only in the chLcunels and intervales,,
which the rivers have form.ed, that their effects
are to be seen ; but their orerations are ako
risible, upon the stones and rocks.. The stones
which have been constantly washed by the
streams are always found to be smooth and
even ; and the rocks in many places, are not
only become smooth and slippery, but they are
much worn away by the constant running of
the water. There is anolher phenomenon ex-
tremely curious, derived from this cause ; in
several rivers, there are holes or cavities, wrought
into the solid body of large rocks, by the de-
scent, or circular motion of the water. At
Rockingham, there is a remarkable fall in Con-
necticut river, where the water passes over a
bar of solid rock ; and which it must have been
constaiitly passing over, ever since the river

48 NATURAL AND CIVIL

began to flow. In the rocks at these falls, there
are several cavities, Avhich appear to have been
formed by the circular motion of small stones,
constantly kept in action by the force of the de-
scending waters. Some of these cavities arc
two or three feet in diameter, and from two to
four feet in depth ; and probably they are yet in-
creasing. Such phenomena are not uncommon
wherever there are deep falls in our rivers.
Bi;^ the most singular appearances of this na-
ture which I have ever seen, are at Cavendish,
upon Black river, near the house of Salmoi>
Dutton. Here, the channel of the river has
been worn down, one hundred feet ; And rocks
of very large dimensions, have been undermin-
ed, and thrown down, one upon another. Holes
are wrought into the rocks, of various dimen-
sions, and forms : Some of them are cylindrical,
from one to eight feet in diameter, and from
one to fifteen feet in depth : Others are of a
spherical form, from six to twenty feet diame-
ter, M^orn almost perfectly smooth, into the solid
body of a rock.

How long a period nature has been employ-
ed in carrying on these operations, Ave can
scarcelj^ hope to determine. All the circum-
stances relating to the channels of rivers, and
the intervales which they liave formed, ai-e such
as denote periods of time very remote, and of
the highest antiquity. It can scarcely be sup^
posed that in the formation of the intervales, the
annual increase has amounted to the tenth part
of an inch. At present, the freshets in the
spring and fall, and throughout the year, do not
^ftfiually deposit the one laalf of this quantity of

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 49

earth, upon the intervales. At no place in this
state, is there any appearance that the surface of
the intervales has been raised an inch, in the
period often years. Eut admitting such an in-
crease, where the depth of the intervales are fifty
feet, the period necessary to produce such an
effect, would be six thousand years. ' But in all
such kinds of computation, the data which we
assume, are not miuked with sufficient certainty
or precision, to leave us satisfied widi the con-^
elusion^ The effects of the rivers'' upon the
solid rocks, seem to be more slow, regular and
uniform. There are situations in this, and in
every part of America, w here the water has been
constantly flowing over a solid body of rock,
ever since the channels of the rivers were first
formed. If we knew from observation, how
much such rocks were worn away in one cen-
tury, by the waters, we could forma pretty just
conclusion how lone the waters have been run-
ning in those places. If the philosophers of the
present age will make accurate observations of
the altitude and situations of such rocks, and
put their observations upon record in the trans-
actions of their philosophical societies, they will
enable posterity to solve a problem, which we
can hardly expect to determine in our day.

While the one half of our rivers pass off in-
to the ocean to the south, through Connecticut
river, the other half 'find their way to the ocean,
at the northeast, through Lake Champlain and
the river St. Lawrence. ---Lake Champlain is
the largest collection of waters in this part of
the United States. Reckoning its length from
Fairhaven to St. John's, a course nearly

50 NATURAL AND CIVIL

north, it will amount to about onehuYidred ard fifty
miles. Its width is from one to eighteen mi:es,
being very different in different places ;
the mean width mny be estimated at fivie
miles. This will give one thousand square
miles, or six hundred and forty thousand acrt s,
as the ai'ea of its surface. Its depth is sufficient
for the navie:ation of the larp-est vessels. It
contains several islands ; one of them, the Grand
Isle, is twenty four miles long, and from two to
four miles wide.

The waters which form this lake, are col-
lected from a large tract of country. Ail the
streams, which arise in more tlian one half of
Vermont, fiow into it. There are several,
W"hich also fall into its eastern side, from the
province of Canada. It is probable the rivers
which fiow into the west side, are as large, nu-
merous, and extensive, as those on the east.
The waters therefore, from which Lake Cham-
plain is formed, seem to be collected from a
tract of ccuntr}', cf a larger extent, than the
whole state of Vermont.

There are many m^aj-ks and indications that
the surface of this lake, was form.erly thirty or
forty feet liigher than it is now. The rocks m
several places appear to be marked, and stained,
wiih the former surface cf the lake, many feet
higher, than it has been, from its first discovery
by Sir Samuel Champlain, in 1608, Fossil
shelis, the limbs and bodies of trees, are fre-
quently found at the depth of fifteen or twenty
feet in the earth ; this is the case not onlv a-
long the shores, but in the low lands at the dis-
tance of two or three miles from them. The

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 51

soil In many places near the shore, is evidently
of the sane faciitious kind, as the intervales
formed by the rivers. These, and other cir-
cumstances, have left no doubt in the minds of
the inhabitants along the lake shore, that the
waters of it were formerly much higher, and
spread to a much greater extent, than they now
are.

Th e operations of nature with respect to the
lake, must have been the same that they were
in relation to the rivers. When the waters dis-
charged by the streams, amounted to such a
collection, as to rise above the shores of the
lake, they would overflow at the lowest part.
There, the channel would begin ; and being
formed, it would become more and more deep,
in the same manner as the channel of a river.
The cliannel which this lake found, and formed,
Was to the northu-ard ; into the river St. Law-
rence ; and through that into the ocean. When
this channel, by the constant running of the wa-
ter, was worn down thirty or forty feet, the sur-
face of the lake would naturally subside the
same space.

At present there is but little alteration in the
height of the waters, tlu-ough the year. They
generally rise from about the twentieth of April
until the twentieth of June. Their rise is com-
monly from four to six feet, the greatest varia-
tion is not more than eight feet. The lake is
early frozen round the shores, but it is not
commonly wholly shut up with the ice, until the
middle of January.* Between the sixth and the

• When th; ice is become of its greatest density and firmness, large
and cxtco<iv6 cracks or opeawss "W iU «uddfini7 caXe place Thsti crack?

52 NATURAL AND CIVIL

fifteenth of April, the ice generally goes off j
and it is not uncommon for many square miles
of it, to disappear in one day.

The north line of Vermont passes over the
south part of the lake Pvlemphremagog, This
Jake is about forty miles in length, and two or
tliree miles wide. It lies chiefly in the Province^
of Canada ) and has a northerly direction. The
river St. Francis forms a communication be-
tween the lake Memphremagog, and the river
St. Lawrence. Round this lake, there is a rich
soil, and a fine level country.

in the ice, generally run in an oblique direction, from one Cape to anoth-
er, and often to the distance of ten or fifteen miles. Sohietimes the ictf
■will separate on each side, to the distance of five or six feet ; at othef
times it will lap over, or more commonly he thrown up in ridges four ot*
five feet high ; and it is often broken into pieces of two or three feet di-
ameter, all round the edges. These openings often prove dangerous to
the traveller. They seem to be produced, by the occasional rise and fall
«f the waters, in the lake ; which a^ they cannot remove, must operate
to elevate and depress, and thus to bend and break, the extensive and
solid body of ice, which must have assumed the spherical form, which the
waters had when tUey were first frozen.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 53

CHAPTER IV.

Climate. A?i account of the Temperature,
Winds ^ Rain, Snow and Weather. The change
of Climate which has attended the Cultivation
of the Country.

THE temperature of any particular
place, depends chiefly upon the latitude, the
cultivation of the country, the elevation of the
place above the adjacent lands, and its proxim-
ity to the ocean. The latitude of Vermont is
between 42 degrees 44 minutes, and 45 degrees
north. Much the largest part of the state has
never been cultivated. A large part of the land,
is a range of mountains, much higher than the
adjacent parts of the country : And the state is
from eighty to one hundred and sixty miles
from the ocean.

The most common method of determining
the mean degree of heat w^hich prevails in any
part of the earth, is by thermometrical observa-
tions. In the years 1789, 90, 91, I made a
course of meteorological observations at Rut-
land, about the latitude of 43 degrees, 36 min-
utes. The greatest height of Farenheit's
thermometer during that period, was 93 and a
half degrees, on July 13, 1791. The least
height was 27 below 0, on December 19, 1790.
These may be esteemed as near the extremes of
heat and cold, in this climate. The mean heat^
deduced from the whole number of observations^
was 43 and a half degres.

The temperature of the climate may also b^
G

54

NATURAL AND CIVIL

determined by observations of the heat which
prevails in deep wells and springs. The heat
of the atmosphere, is derived from the heat,
which takes place at the surface of the earths
In passing through the atmosphere, the solar
rays do not communicate any heat to the par-
ticles of air. The rays must first fall upon the
earth, be stopped, and collected, before they
produce their effect : And no greater heat can
ever be communicated to the atmosphere, than
was first com.municated to the surface of the
earth. Hence vv'e find the temperature of those
wells and springs, which are so far beneath the
surface of the earth, as not to be much affected
by the heat in summer, or by the cold in win-
ter, is the same as the mean temperature of that
climate ; or the mean heat of the atmosphere^
in that place. The temperature of the v.-ater in
the deep wells in this place, is exactly the same
as the mean heat of the atmosphere. I have.
rei>eatedly examined the temperature of the wa-
ter in a well near the State House, by estima-
tion forty five feet in depth, and I have always
found the heat to be 43 and a half degrees,
without any variation in summer or winter.*

* On a J
to Burlington
the temperatu
the heat decre
tie cultivated.

Place.

Newhaven,

IVIiddletown

Hartford,

Stockhridge,

Pittsfield,

Tinmouth,

Rutland

iivrlington,

ourney from the University at Newhaven tn Connecticut,
upon Onion river, I made the following obser\'ations upon
re of the wells ; which may serve to show in what manner
afes, as we advance towards the north, in a country but Ut-

Prcsident's well,
Goodwin's Inn,
Bull's Inn,
Judge Edwards's,
Strong's Inn,
Judge Mattock's Bpring,
Buell's Inn,
Keye»' Inn,

Depth by es-
timation,
30 Feet.
^^
40

40

45

25

Tempera-
ture.

49'

50

49

50

47

44

43

4i

I-»

I-S

i-a

\-%

HISTORY OF VERMONT.

55.

Another view of the climate may be taken
from the common operations of nature^ the ve-
getable and animal productions. The times
when the trees and plants put forth their buds,
leaves, flowers and fruit, or when the difiercnt
seeds are planted, spring up, are in blossom,
produce their fruit, and are gathered in ; when
the birds of passage, or other migratory animals,
make their approach or depaiture. Observa-
tions upon such phenomena, are among the best
observations we can ever have, to ascertain the
relative temperatures of different climates. Re-
ferring those which relate to the migration of
animals, to the description of the birds, one or
two small tables will serve to give us a view of
the times, when different vegetables produce
their fruit, in this part of the continent.

Table I.

^ viexv of the Climate^ taken from the state of

Vegetation in the " Trees and Shrubs.

Maturity.

Trees and Shrubs.

Buds

Eider,

April

Gooseberry,

April

Currnt,

April

Raspberry,

April

St'awberry,

April

Wild Cherry,

April

Wild Plumb,

April

Apple Tree,

April

Leaves.

Flowers.

5

April 14

June 15

6

April 16

May 9

6

April 16

May 1

6

April 17

May 37

^o

April 2"

May 6

20

April 28

May 4

20

May 4

May X

2 2

May I

May 12

July

20

July

1

J"iy

5

June

15

June

28

August

J2

August

18

Table II.

A viexv of the Climate^ taken from the- fruits of

the Field.

Seeds and Fruits.

Sown,

Flowers.

Gathered.

Flax,

April

16

June

25

A.ugust

1

Spring Wheat,

April

'5

May

30

.August

»5

Winter Wheat

Sept.

1

May

26

August

I

Oats,

April

20

June

7

August

20

Peas,

April

16

May

26

J^iy

1

Barley,

April

20

June

10

July

e8

Rye,

August

20

May

27

J^'iy

28

Indian Corn,

May

>5

J"iy

12

October

1

H»y>

T..I..

JO

^^

■* J—;

56 NATURAL AND CIVIL

The frosts commonly cease about the be-
g;inning of June, and come on again between
the first and the middle of September. When
they first come, they appear not on the hills, or
highest parts of the trees, but in the low and
■\vet lands, and on the lowest parts ^ of the trees.
When a fog lies along the low lands adjoining
to a ri^'er, when the winds are high, and when
the lands are but partly or newly cleared, the
frosts are retarded or prevented ; and do not
appear so soon, or so great, as in clear, low, and
wet places. These circumstances seem to ex^
plain the reason w^hy the frosts are first seen not
on the high, but on the low lands. The dews
and vapours are the most dense and abundant,
in those places ; much more so than they are at
hi.£;"her altitudes, or upon the hills. The first
effects of the frost are not sufficient to freeze
the leaves of the trees, or other vegetables.
The cold at first avails onlv to effect the conoel-
ation of the dew and vapour ; as these are chief-
ly to be found in the low and moist lands, and
not higlier than the lowest limbs of the trees,
these are the places where the first effects of the
frosts appear. A high wind serves to prevent
these effects, by carrying off" the dtw and va-
pours ; and a fog detains tiie heat in amazing
quantities, and prevents its flowing off from the
surface of the cartii, either so rapidly, or in such
quantities, as to occasion a frost.

In those places where the earth is not cover-
ed Vv^ith snow, the frost penetrates several feet
below the surface. In the winter of 1789 there
was but little snow at Rutland ; and the sur-
fiice of the earth was frozen almost the whole

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 57

winter. On March the 19th the ground was
frozen to the depth of three feet and eight in^
ches. The ice in the lakes and stagnant wa-
ters, is generally frozen in the course of the
winter, about thirty inches thick ; in the rivers
and streams it is about twenty four ; and com-
monly goes off the last week in Maixh.

The severest cold of our winters never kills
any of our young trees, and seldom freezes any
of our young cattle, although they are not hous-
ed during the winter. Nor is the cold so af-
fecting to the human body, as the extremes,
and sudden changes from heat to cold, on the
sea coasts. From the time that the winter first
sets in, until it breaks up, we have generally a
settled steady cold ; for the most part without
any thaw, and with but a few days in which the
snow melts at all. During this period we be-
come accustomed to the weather, and every
thing in our feeling, and clothing is adapted to
a steady and severe cold. Such a steady, [equal
temperature, is far more comfortable than those
great and sudden changes which take place,
where the extremes of heat and cold are fre-
quently succeeding each other.

The temperature of the American climate is
so different in different parts of the same state,
and often in the same latitude, that it cannot be
well understood, but by viewing it in its varia-
tions tlirough the different parts of the northern
continent. The following table is designed to
exhibit such a comparative view.

5S

5j

o

5s.

■m *

05

So
So

NATURAL AND CIVIL

ft; 3 ^

S ^ <" ^

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10

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K B = -*-

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rt « « CO "^ *0(^ 1^ '>c so so ^ c»

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HISTORY OF VERMONT, 59

Th e winds in North America receive their
general direction from the situation of the sea
coasts, mountains, and rivers. These are very-
much from the southwest to northeast. The
most prevalent of our winds, are .either parallel
with, or perpendicular to this course ; or rather,
they are from the northeast, east, southwest and
northv/est. More than one half of the winds
which blow during the year, are from that quar-
ter which lies between the southwest and north-
west. The west and northwest winds are dry,
cooling and elastic* These winds always begin
at the sea coast. Those from the south and
soutwest are more warm, moist and relaxing.
The easterly winds seldom extend so far from
the sea coast as Vermont. They not only lose
their distressing chill and dampness, as they ad-
vance into the country, but they seldom reach
so far as Connecticut river ; and they are un-
known on the west side of the green mountains*
The winds seem to observe something like a
I'egular course, during the day. At sunrise
there generally seems to be a calm ; about
seven or eight o'clock, the wind begins to rise,
which at nine or ten becomes a fresh breeze ;
and increases until one or two o'clock : From
about three or four, the wind decreases until
eight or nine in the evening ; when it again be-
comes calm, and continues thus through the
night. This general routine seems to be ob-
served more generally in the latter part of win-
ter, and in the spring, than at other times of the
year. But there are times in those seasons of
the year, when the wind rages without much
intermission for two or three days together.

60 NATURAL AND CIVIL

A general table of their directions at different
places upon the continent, will give the best
views Qf their comparative courses.

HISTORY OF VERMONT,

61

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62 NATURAL AND CIVIL

The quantity of rain v^hich falls at those
places in North America where meteorological
observations have been made, has been found
to be more than double to that which p;eneraily
falls in the same latitude in Europe. We can-
not well account for this, without supposing
that the immense forests of America, supply a
larger quantity of water for the formation of
clouds, than the more cultivated countries of
Europe. Many parts of America do liowever,
suffer severely by drought : this is very seldom
the case in Vermont. The lands are naturally
moist, the mountains supply water for regular
rains, and the heat of the sun is not so intense
as suddenly to disperse the vapours, dry up the
waters, or parch the land. These kinds of ob-
servations vvill be reduced to the smallest com-
pass, and gixQ the most complete comparative
view, by exhibiting them in the iorm of a gene-
ral table.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 63

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61 NATURAL AND CIVIL

During three months in the year, this part
of America is covered with snow. On the
mountains the snow is generally from two and
an half to four and an half feet deep ; and does
not go off until after the middle of April. In
the loM er grounds, the snow for the most part,
is from one, to two and an half feet deep ; and
remains until about the twentieth of March....
The advantage derived to the earth from tlie
quantity and duration of the snow-, is every
where apparent. As soon as it is melted on the
mountains, the earth appears to be greatly fer-
tilized : the spring comes on immediately ;
and the vegetables of every kind are gi'een and
flourishing. With a A'ery little cultivation, the
earth is prepared for the reception of tlie seed ;
and the vegetation becomes extremely quick,
and rapid.

The efiects .being so apparent, a general
opinion seems to have taken place, that the snow
communicates to the earth some nitrous salts or
enriching substance which tends to increase its
fertility. In Februar}- 1791, I melted as much
snow as afforded six e:allons of water. The
snow was collected as it was failing : Bemg
evaporated there remained eleven grains of cal-
carious earth, five grains of an oily substaxsce,
and two grains of saline matter. The fertilizing
effect of snoVv% cannot therefore be derived horn
any nitrous salts, which it receives or contains
when it is falling through the atmosphere.
Suspecting it might acquire some saline mix-
tures by laying on the earth, January 30, 1792,
in an open field covered with grass, I collected
^s much of the snow which lay next to the earth,

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 65

as produced six gallons of water. This snow
spread o\'er an area of sixteen square feet, and
had lain upon the ground fifty nine days. Upon
evaporating tlie water there was not more saline
matter, or cal carious earth, than in the former
experiment ; but a much larger quantity of oily
substance. The oil was of a dark brown colour
not inflammable, and weighed four pennyweights
and nine grains, troy weight. From the form-
er experiment, it appeals that the biggest part
of this oily matter accrued to the snow after it
had fallen upon the earth : And to this oily
substance, is probably to be imputed that dirty
or sooty appearance, which the snow is general-
ly observed to have, after it has begun to thaw.
If the snow w^iich I removed contained the
same quantity of oil as that which I examined,
a considerable nutriment might be preserved to
the earth from this cause. The depth of the
snow was thirty inches : The depth of that
quantity which I collected to melt, as nearly as
I could determine, was three inches. This
will give two ounces, tliree pennyweights and
eighteen grains, as the quantity of mucilaginous
matter, which would have descended upon six-
teen square feet of the earth, from the quantity
of snow^ that was then upon the ground.

While the snow thus prevents all waste
from the surface of the earth, it performs anoth-
er and more important office, that of preserving
its internal heat. The internal parts of the
earth through the territory of Vermont, are
heated to about the forty fourth degree of Faren-
heit's thermometer. When the heat of the at»
mosphere is greater than this, a part .of that

66 NATURAL AND CIVIL

beat will flow into the earth, and thus the heat
of the earth will be increased. When the heat
of the atmosphere is less than forty four degrees,
the heat will flow out of the earth into the at-
mosphere, and in this way the internal parts of
the earth will be losin.^ their heat, or becoming
colder. This is the case during the winter
months ; or rather, from the middle of October,
to the bei^innino: of Aoril. Hence the surface
of the earth -v^hen exposed to the atmosphere,
becomes frozen to a greater or less depth, ac-
cording to the degree and duration of the cold.
The snow tends very much to prevent this.
By covering over the surface of the ground a
considerable depth, the snow by its nature and
colour, pre\'ents the internal heat of the earth
fi'om flowing into the colder atmosphere, and
the atmosphere from coming into contact with
the earth. In this way Avhile the earth is cov-
cred w^ith a deep snow, its heat is preserved,
and the surface, in tlie coldest weather, is kept
warm. To ascertain to -what degree the heat
of the earth was aflected, by the quantity of
snow that lay upon it, on January 14, 1791 (an
extreme cold winter) I dug through the frozen
surface in a plain open field, where the snow-
had been driven away b}- the ^vind, and found
the ground was frozen to the depth of three
feet and five inches. In the woods, ^a here the
snow was three feet deep, I found on the same
day the heat of the earth, six inches below the
surface, was thirty nine degrees. The surface
of the earth had been frozen to this depth, be-
fore it was covered with sno^\'. The frost was
not only extracted, but the surface of the earth

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 67

Was heated seven degrees above the freezing
point, in consequence of the snow with which
it was covered.

This will help us to account for the benefi-
cial effects, which are derived from the snow,
in all cold climates. Different degrees of heat
are necessary, for the preservation and growth
of different vegetables. None of them ^\ill
grow when they are frozen ; and most of them
will perish -when the cold at their roots is very
severe. A thick covering of snow prevents
these effects. The earth is kept open, and the
roots of the vegetables are preserved compara-
tively warm. The snow is continually melting
at the surface of the earth : It moistens, and
enriches the soil ; keeps off the frost and wind,
and prevents all evaporation from the surface of
the earth. The earth thus prepai'ed by heat
and moisture, and a collection of all its effluvia,
is in a fit state for that sudden and rapid veget-
ation, which takes place in all cold climates,
immediately upon the melting of the snow.

The weather is generally fair in the winter ;
and often, with an hazy atmosphere. The
snows are frequent, but they generally come in
small quantities, and are over in one or two
hours : They are not attended with high winds^
or heavy storms ; but they come from all points
of the compass, except the east ; very frequent-
ly from the west, and northwest. Hail is not
uncommon in the winter, but rain is not fre-
quent. About the middle of March the spring
commences. The winds and weather are then
very unsettled until the beginning of April. In
April and May the weather becomes mild an4

68 NATURAL AND CIVIL

pleasant, attended with frequent showers. In
the summer months tlie weather is generally
fair, clear and settled. The winds are mostly
from the south, and southwest ; the heat in the
middle of the day is often very uncomfortable,
but the nights are almost ever cool and pleasant.
From the beginning of September, until the
middle of October, we have commonly the most
agreeable season, with moderate westerly winds,
and a clear sky. The latter part of October
and November, are generally cold, wet and un-
comfortable ; attended v/ith frequent rains,
some snow and high winds.

Thunder and lightning are common in the
months of May, June, July and August ; but
seldom in the other months. The Aurora
Borealis is the most common in the months of
March, September and October ; but it is not
unusual at other times of the year. Heavy and
long storms of snow, or rain, are scarcely ever
knovv^n : But sudden and violent whirlwinds or
hurricanes sometimes arise, and do much dam-
age in the fall ; but we seldom receive any in-
jury from the hail. Annual courses of meteo-
rological observations properly reduced, will
afford the most complete information of the
weather, and meteors, in the different parts of
North America.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 69

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70 NATURAL AND CIVIL

The above accounts are designed to exhibit
a just view of our climate. But instead of re-
maining fixed and settled, the climate is per-
petually changing and altering, in all its cir-
cumstances and affections : And this change
instead of being so slow and gradual, as to be a
■matter of doubt, is so rapid and constant, that
it is the subject of common observation and ex-
perience. It has been observed in • every part
of the United States ; but is most of all sensi-
ble and apparent in a new country, which is
suddenly changing from a iytate of vast unculti-
vated wilderness, to that of numerous settle-
ments, and extensive improvements. When
the settlers move into a new to\\"nship, their first
business is to cut down the trees, cleai' up the
lands, and sow them with grain. The earth is
no sooner laid open to the influence of the sun
and winds, than the effects of cultivation begin
to appear. The surface of the earth becomes
more warm and dry. As the settlements in-
crease, these effects become more general and
extensive : the cold decreases, the earth and air
become more warm ; and the whole tempera-
ture of the climate, becomes more equal, uni-
form and moderate. At the same time the
lands and roads become more dry and hard : -
the stagnant waters disappear, small streams and
rivulets dry up, and the redundant waters are
carried off. The number and quantity of the
snows decrease ; the winds receive new direc-
tions, and the weather and seasons become much
altered. These changes every where attend the
cultivatiou of the country ; and have formed a
remarkable change of climate in those states,
which have been long settled.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 71

In this change of dimate, the first effect
which is generally observed, is an alteration in
the temperature. The cold of the winters de-
crease ; the rivers are not frozen so soon, so
thick, or so long, as they formerly were ; and
tlie effects of extreme cold, in every respect,
appear to be diminished. A remarkable change
of this kind, has been obsen^ed in all the settled
parts of North America. The bays and ri^'ers
in New England, are not frozen so hard, or so
long, as they were at the first settlement of the
country.* At the first settlement of Philadel-
phia, the river Delaware was commonly cover-
ed with ice, about the middle of November,
old style. t It is not now commonly covered
with ice, until the first week in January. Sim-
ilar observations have been made with regard to
the ice in Hudson's river. J The baron Lahon-
tan gaVe this account of the river St. LaVvrence,
at Quebec, in 1690 : " I put to sea the twen-
tieth of November, new style, the like of which
was never seen in that place before. The ice
had covered the river on the thirteenth and four-
teenth of November, but was carried off by a
sudden thaw."|l The river is not frozen over
now until the latter end of December, or the
beginning of January. The ancient people at
Quebec, in 1749, informed Mr. Kalm, that the
winters in Canada were formerly much colder,
than they were then.§ Similar observations
liave been made in almost every part of North

> New England's Prospect, by W. Wood % written in 1633,?' 4-

■y Kalm's Travels, Vol. I. p. 410.

+ Smith's History of Newyork.

I] Voyages to North America, p. ifij,

^ Kalm's Travels, Vwl. II. p. 3^3.

72 NATURAL AND CIVIL

America, ^\here settlements and cultivation
have taken place.

Although the general effect has been every-
where apparent, it is not an easy thing to ascer-
tain the degree^ to which the temperature has
changed, in any particular place. When our
ancestors first came into America, thermome-
ters were not invented : And they have not left
lis any accurate meteorological remarks or ob-
servations, from which we can determine the
exact degree of cold, which prevailed in their
times. Upon looking over the most ancient
writers of New England, the only account I
have found, which will aiford any distinct in-
formation upon this subject, is the following
passage ; referring to years previous to 1633.
*' The extremity of this cold weather lasteth
but for two months, or ten weeks, beginning in
December^ and breaking up the tenth day bf
February (21st new stile) which hath become a
passage very remarkable, that for ten or a dozen
years, the weather hath held himself to his day,
unlocking his icy bays and rivers, which are
never frozen again the same year, except there
be some small frost until the middle oi 3Iarc/i.'"^
The winter is less severe now in several res-
pects : The extremity of tlie cold weather does
Ti6t come on so soon by several weeks ; the
bays at Boston, nistcad of being annually cover-
ed with ice, are but seldom frozen to this de-
gree ; and they do not continue in this state a
longer time than eight or ten days. In the
year 1782, the harbour between Boston and
Charlesto\vn was frozen to such a degree, that

f Wood's Prospect, p. 4.

HISTORY OF VEHMONT. 7S

horses and sleighs passed over the ice, for five
or six davs. This was the be&'inninar of such
im effect, as that which is mentioned in the an-
cient account. The ice became fixed and per-
manent on February second ; and continued in
this state until February 10th. During that time
I found the lowest degree of Farenheit's ther-
mometer to be— 9 degrees ; the greatest degree
was 28 degrees : and the mean heat was 13 de-
grees. It may be presumed therefore, that the
freezing of the bays of which Wood speaks,
could not have taken place, or continued, in a
less degree of cold than this. This will give
us 13 degrees of Farenheit's thermometer, as
the mean heat which took place during eight or
ten weeks of the winter, so far back as the year
1630. By the meteorological observations
which I made in the UniA^ersity at Cambridge
for seven years, from 1780 to 1788, I found the
mean heat in the month of December was 29
degrees 4 tenths ; in January it was 22 de-
grees 5 tenths ; and in February it was 23
degrees 9 tenths. These numbers express
the present temperature of the winter at Boston.
If this computation be admitted, the change of
temperature in the winter, at Boston, from the
year 1630 to the year 1788, must have been
from ten to twelve degrees.

A permanent alteration in the temperature of
tlie climate or atmosphere, supposes an alteration
e(^ally great and jx^rmanent, in the heat of the
earth. Whether the heat of the earth is thus
affected by cultivation, and what will be its ef-
fects, I endeavoured to ascertain in the follow^
ing manner. On the 2Sd of May, 1789, I bunk

NATURAL AND CIVIL

a thermometer to the depth of ten inches below
the surface of the earth. Upon repeated trials
the quicksiher stood at fifty degrees : this ^vas
in a level open field, used for pasture or grazing-,
and fully exposed to the sun. The same ex-
periment was then made in the woods, where
the surface of the earth was covered with trees,
and never had been cultivated. To ascertain
Ihe gradual increase of heat at each place, the
observations were often repeated. The result
was as follows.

Time.

Heat in the

Heat in the

Difference.

Pasture.

Woods.

May 23

50^

46'^

6°

28

57

43

9

June 15

64

51

13

27

62

51

11

July 16

62

51

11

30

65 1-2

55 1-2

10

August 15

68

58

10

3J

591-2

55

41-2

September 15

591-2

55

41-2

October 1

59 1-2

55

4 1-2

15

49

49

0

November 1

43

43

0

16

43 1-2

43 1-2

0

The effect of cultivation with regard to the
lieat of the earth, so far as it can be collected
fiom these experiments, appears to be this :
Exposing the land to the full force of the solar
rays in this latitude, will produce an heat at the
depth of ten inches below the surface, ten or
eleven degrees greater than that which prevails
in the uncultivated parts of the country ; aiid

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 75

this effect continues while the solar rays are
sufficient to increase the heat of the earth.
This additional heat in the earth, will be suf*
ficient to produce the same alteration in the
temperature of the air ; for whatever degree of
heat prevails in the earth, nearly the same will
be communicated to the lower parts of the at-
mosphere. Thus the earth and the air, in the
cultivated parts of the country, are heated in
consequence of their cultivation, ten or eleven
degrees more, than they were in their unculti-
vated state : It should seem from these observa-
tions that the effect, or the degree of heat pro-
duced by cultivation, is the same with the
change of climate, that has taken place in the
eastern part of Massachusetts* ^

Another remarkable effect which mtikes
part of the change of climate, and always attends
the cultivation of the country, is an alteration
in the moisture or wetness of the earth. As
the surface of the earth becomes more warm, it
becomes more dry and hard, and the "stagnant
waters disappear. Alterations of this kind,
have been com.mon and gi'eat, in all the ancient
settlements in the United States. Many of the
small streams and brooks are dried up : Mills,
which at the first settlement of the country,
were plentifully supplied with water from small
rivers, have ceased to be useful. Miry places,
and large swamps, are become among the rich-
est of our ai'able lands. In the iiew settlements
the change is effected in two or tliree years :
Fields of corn and wheat are attended with the
most rapid vegetation, and the greatest increase,
in lands, where the waters five or six years ago,.

76 NATURAL AND CIVIL

were stagnant, and in such quantities as to b^
spread over the largest part of the ground. One
of the first effects of cultivation is the dispersion
of these waters, and a change in the soil, from
the appearance of a s^vamp, to that of a dry and
fertile field.

There are two ways in which cultivation
operates, to produce this effect. By the cut-
ting down of the trees, the dispersion of a vast
quantity of fluid, emitted by their evaporation,
is prevented ; and by laying the lands open to
the influence of the sun and winds, the evapor-
ation of the stagnant waters is greatly promoted.
The effect of the first, from experiments which,
will be related when the vegetable productionr*
are considered, may be estimated at three
thousand and eisrht hundred Q-allons of water
tlirown off from the trees on one acre, in the
space of tweh e hours, in hot weather. To as-
certain the efiect which miffht arise from the
latter, on June 27th, 1789, a fair, calm and hot
day, I placed a china saucer on the ground in
the woods, where it \wls covered from the solar
rays by the trees, the leaves of which at the
height of ten or twelve feet, were very thick.
Another saucer in all respects similar to this,
was placed on the ground in an open field ad-
joining, where it was fully exposed to the wind
and sun. I poured into each of them equal
quantities of water ; at the end of three hours
the evaporation from the latter, was to that from
tlie former, as six eight tenths to one. With
regard then to tlie moisture or wetness of the
country, it appears that settlement and cultiva-
tion will be suflicient to prevent the discharge

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 11

of three thousand and eight hundred gallons of
water, over one acre of land, in 12 hours, during
the hot weather; and at the same time to effect the
dispersion of 6 times and 8 tenths as much water
from the surface of the earth, as would have
been dispersed in its uncultivated state. If we
may judge upon a matter which cannot be re-
duced to exact calculation, it should seem that
the cause was here equal to the effect.

A change in the climate hath also been man-
ifest in the apparent decrease of the snow, in all
the ancient cultivated parts of the United States.
Whether there has been any alteration in the
annual quantity of rain in any part of America,
we cannot determine, for want of meteorologic-
al observations ; but a great decrease of snow
has been observed in all the ancient settlements.
At the first settlement of New England, the
earth was generally covered with snow for more
than three months in the year. It began to fall
in large quantities by the first of December,
and seldom went off until some time in March.
This is yet the case in the inland and mountain-
ous parts of the country. The snow covers
them for three months, and is scarcely ever
carried off by a thaw until the spring comes on.
In those parts of the country which have been
long settled and cultivated, the snows have been
declining for many years. They are neither so
frequent, deep, or of so long continuance, as
they were formerly : And they are yet declin-
ing very fast in their number, quantity, and
duration. This event is derived from the changrt
of temperature, which has taken place in the at-
mosphere ; and probably will keep pace exactly
K

78 NATURAL AND CIVIL

with it. There has also been an apparent alter.-
ution in t]ic direction of the ^\inds. The preva-
Icnc}' and extent of the westerly winds, seem to
be abating : Or rather tiie easterly winds are
certainly increasing' in their frequency and ex-
tent. These winds are now very frequent in
the spring, in all that part of the country, which
lies v/ithin sixty or seventy miles of the sea
coast. Haifa century ago, the easterly winds
seldom reached farther than thirty or forty miles
irom the sea shore. They have now advanced
as far as the mountains, which are generally
eighty or an hundred miles from the ocean. As
the country becomes settled and cleai'cd, they
are found to advance more and more, into the
internal parts of the country. It can hardly be
doubted, but that this event is owing to the in-
creasing^ cultivation of the countrv. As the
woods are cut down, the earth and atmosphere
become more heated than the ocean : The di-
rection of the winds will of course be from the
sea, tO"\vards the lar^d. As the country becomes
more settled and cleared, it m probable these
winds will continue to advance further towards
the west.

The same causes which produce a change
in the heat of the earth, in its wetness, in the
snow and vvinds, will produce as great a change
in the Aveathcr and seasons. \V'hile the state of
a country remains unaltered, the G:cneral course
and appearance of nature vv ill be the same, from
one age to another. Summer and uintcr, spring
and fall, the productions of the earth, the state
of the air and weather, will be subject to but
little annual alteration or change. But when

HISTORY OF VERMONT. ^ 79

the whole face and state of a country are chan^-
inar, the weather and seasons will also chaii^e
with them. This is an event that has already
taken place in the most ancient and cultivated
parts of America. When our < ancestors lirst
came into New England, the seasons and \^eath-
er were uniform and refrular. The winter set
in about the beginning of l^eccmber, old st) ie,
and continued until the middle of February.
During that time the weather was generally fair,
and cold, and without much change. Towards
the end of February the winter generally broke
up. When the spring came on, it came on at
once ; without repeated and sudden changes
from heat to cold, and from cold to heat. The
summer was extremely hot and sultry, for a
month or six weeks ; but it was of a short du-
ration. The autumn commenced about the
beginning of September ; and the harvest of all
kinds was gathered by the end of that month.
A very different state of things now takes
place, in all that part of New England, ^diich
has been long saftled. The seasons are much
changed, and the weather is become more vari-
able and uncertain. The winter is intermixed
with great and sudden thaws, and is become
much shorter. The clians:es of \\-eather and
temperature, are great and common in the
spring ; and at that season there is generally an
unfortunate fluctuation between heat and cold,
greatly unfavorable to vegetiAion, and the fruits
of the earth. The summers arc become more
moderate in respect to the extreme heat of a
few weeks ; but they are of a much longer du-
ration, The autumn commences, and cnd^j.

i

f

80 NATURAL AND CIVIL

much later than formerly : the harvest is not
finished until the first week of November ; and
the severity of winter does not commonly take
place, until the latter end of December. But
the whole course of the weather is become more
uncertain, variable and fluctuating than it was
in the uncultivated state of the country.

It is in these particulars, the change that has
taken place in the heat of the earth, in its wet-
ness, in the snow, winds, weather and seasons,
that the change of climate in Nojth America
has principally appeared. That this change of
climate is much connected with, and greatly
accelerated by the cultivation of the country,
caiiiiot be doubted. But whether this cause is
sufiicient to account for all the phenomena,
which have attended the change of chmate in
the various parts of the earth, seems to be un-
•Cci't^in.*

dut NO. iJ

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 81

CHAPTER V.

VsGETABLE pRODUC TioN s....i^o;r^^ Tree!;^
Esculent and Medicinal Vegetables. Remarks
on the Magnitude^ Number^ Age, Evapora-
tion^ Emission of Air ^ Heat^ and Effect of the
Trees.

WHEN the Europeans first took pos-
session of North America, it was one continued
forest, the greatest upon the earth. The coun-
try was every where covered with woods, not
planted by the hand of man ; but derived from,
and ancient as the powers of nature. The
great variety of plants and flow^ers, the immense
numbers, dimensions, and kinds of trees, which
spread over the hills, valleys and mountains,
presented to the eye, a most magnificent and
boundless prospect. This is still the case with
the uncultivated parts of the country.

Much the largest part of Vermont is yet in
the state, in which nature placed it. Unculti-
vated by the hand^f man, it presents to our
view a vast tract of woods, abounding witli
trees, plants, and flowers, almost infinite in
number, and of the most various species and
kinds. It would be the employment of many
years, to form a complete catalogue of them.
I shall not attempt to enumerate any, but
those which are the most common and useful.

FOREST TREES.

THE Trees which are the most large and com-.

mon are the
'\Yhite Pine, Pinu$ Strobus.

82 NATURAL AND CIVIL

I

Yellow Pine. Pinus P'mea, \

Pitch Pine. Pimis Tcsda,

Larch. V Pinus Larix. \

'H

Hemlock. Pinus Abies. j

White Spruce. ) n- n i • \

T3, 1 o > J^^inus La?!aae?isis, <

iilack bpruce. ) ^

Fir. Pinus Balsamea. i
White Maple. Acer Negujido.

Red JNlaplc. Acc7' lluhrum. '■

Black INIaple. Ace?' Saccharinum. i

White Beech. 1 r, o / .• i

Red Beech. [ ^'^''' Sylvatica, ,

White Ash. PVaxinus Excelsior. \

Black Ash. Fraxiniis Americana. ,

White Birch. Petula Alba. ' \

Black Birch. Bctula Nigra. \

Red or Yellow Birch. Bctula Lenta. \

Alder. Betula Ahiits. \

White Elm. } tti i 1

Red Elm. \ ^^''''' ^^"'^^^■^^^''^^^' j

Black Oak. Qucrcus A'igra. \

White Oak. Quercus Ai^a. j

Red Oak. Quercus Rubra. \

Chesnut Oak. Quercus Primis. \

White Hiccor}', or Walnut. Juglans Alba. :

Shagbark. Juglans Alba ^ cortice squamosa. \

Butternut. Juglans Alba^ cortice cathartico. ;

Chesnut. I'^agus Castanea. i

Buttonwood. Plantanus Occidcntalis. 1

Basswood, or lime tree. Tilia Americana^ I

Hornbeam. Car pinus Bciulus. '
Wild Cherry, several species.

Sassafras. Imwus Sassafras. \

White Cedar. Thuja Occidcntalis. \

Red Cedar. Juni perns Virginiana \

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 83

White Poplar, or Aspen. Popiilus Trcmida^

Black Poplar, or Balsam. Populus Nigra.

Red Willow. Salix.

White Willow. Salix Allm, *

Hackmatack.

ESCULENT.

THE foUorSing are small Trees^ Shrubs or Fifjes^
valuable on account of their salubrious and
pleasant Fruit.

Red Plumb. ")

Yellow Plumb. > Prwius Sylvestris*

Thorn Plumb, j

Black Cherry. ^ .'

Red Cherry. > Cerasus Si/lvestris,

Choke Cherry. )

Juniper. Juniperus Sabina.

Hazlenut, Corijlus Avcllana.

Black Currant. Ribcs Nigrum.

Wild Gooseberry, liibes Glosularia.

Whortleberry. 1

-D, , ^* )> Facciniu7n Corumbosiim.

rSiue berry i '^

Chokeberry, J
- Partridgcberry. Arbutus Viridis.

Pigeonberry. Cissus.

Barberry. Berber is Vulgaris.
^Mulberry. Moras Nigra.

Black Grape. Fit is Labrusca.

Fox Grape. Vitis Vulpina.

Black Flaspberry. liubus Idaeus.

Red Raspberry. Rubus Canadensis.

Upright Blackbeny. Rubus Fruticosus.

Running Blackl^erry. Rubus Moluccanus*

Brambieberrv. Rubus Occidcntalis.

Sv*

U NATURAL AND CIVIL

Cranberry. ) rr

Bush Cranberry. ^ ^

Strawberry. Fro gar ia Vesca.
Dev.'berry. Riibiis Ccesius.
Cloudberry. Rubiis Cha?n(emo7'iis.

These fruits are in great abundance in the
uncultivated parts of the country ; but they
seem to arrive to their highest perfection of
numbers, magnitude and richness, in the new
fields and plantations. There are other vegeta-
bles which are also esculent, and valuable, chief-
ly on account of their roots or seeds. Among
these are the

Artichoke. Helianthus Tiiberosus,
Ground nut. Glicine Apios.

■R H P t t' * \ ^o^^^^'<^^^'^^^^ Batatas.

Wild Leek.

Wild Onion.

Wild Oat. Zizania Aquatlca.

Wild Pea.

Wild Hop. Humuliis Lupidus.

Indian Cucumber. Medeola.

MEDICINAL.

Many of the vegetables which are indigenous td
this part of America, are applied to Medicinal
purposes. Of this nature are the

Bitter Sweet. Solamim.

Angelica. Angelica Sylvestris.

Black Elder. Sa?nb//rus JS'igra.

Red Elder. Viburnum Opulus. ^

Sarsaparilla. Aralia.

Pettymorrcl. Aralia Nigra.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 85

Solomon's Seal. Convallaria,

Maiden Hair. Adianthiis Pedatus,

Arsniart. Polygonum Sagittatum<,

Wild Rose. Rosa Sylvestris.

Golden Thread. Nigella.

Mallow. Malva Rotundifolia„

Marshmallow, Althcea,

Lobelia, several species.

Senna. Cassia Li^ustrina.

CliverSb Gallium Spurium-,

Blue Flag. Iris.

Sweet Flag. Acorus.

Skunk Cabbage. Arum Americanttni:

Garget. Phytolacca Decandrao

Blood Root. San^uinaria,,

Pond Lily. Nymphcsa,

Elecampane. Inula,

Black Snake Root. Actea Racemosa,

Seneca Snake Root. Polygala Senega,

Pleurisy Root. Asclepias Decumbenso

Liquorish Hoot.

Dragon Root. A?'um.

Ginseng. Panax TrifoUurn,

GijrsENG was formerly esteemed a plant mi-
digenous only to China and Tartary. In 1720,
it was discovered, by the Jesuit Laf Jan, in the
forests of Canada ; and in 1750, it was found in
the western parts of New England. It grows
in great plenty and perfection, in Vermont.
The root has many virtues ; but we do not find
them to be so extraordinary, as the Chinese
have represented. It was a valuable article in
the commerce of Canada in the year 1752, and
large quantities were purchased iu this state but

VOL.1, L

86 - NATURAL AND CIVIL

a^few years ago ; an Injudicious method of col-
lecting, curing and packing it, has greatly in-
jured its reputation ; this, with the large quan-
tities in which it was exported, have nearly de-
stroyed the sale.

To this account of medicinal plants, it may
p.ot be improper to subjoin those, which in their
natural state, are found to operate as poisons ;
the most of Avhich, by proper preparations, be-
come valuable medicines. Of these we have
tlie

Thorn Apple. Datura Siramomiim.
Henbane. Hijoscyamus Alger,
Nightshade. So/an lun J\\q-ru?n.
Ivv. Hedcra Helix,
Creepmg Ivy. Rhus Eaclicans. .
Swamp Sumach. Rhus Toxicodendrum.
Baneberry. Actaa Spicata.
White Hellebore. Vcratrum Album.

In, addition to these, there is a great variety
of plants and flowers, the names and -virtues of
which, are unknown. Some of our vegetables
deserve a particular description, on account of
their uncommon properties : Thus, the Bayberry
fmyrica cerijeraj is distinguished by a fine j^cr-
fume, and a delicate green wax. The Prickly
Ash is valuable for its uncommon aromatic pro-
perties. The Witch Hazel fhamamelisj is en-
dowed wdth the singular property of putting
forth its blossoms, after the frost has destroyed
its leaves. The Indian Hemp fasclcpiasj may
be wrought into a fme, and strong thread.
The Silk Grass another species of the asclepias^
contains a line soft down, which may be carded
and spun into an excellent wickyarn. The ber-

HISTORY OF VERMONT.

87

ries of the common Sumach (rhus) are used to
great advantage in medicinal appUcations, and
in several kinds of dyes. It would be a very-
useful, but a laborious employment, for the
botanists to give to the Avorld an enumeration^
and scientific description of our indigenous ve-
getables. The Flora Americana., w^ould be the
most valuable addition, that could be made to
the works of the celebrated Linnceus : But it
cannot be completed without the united assist-
ance of wealth, genius, time and labour.

To this imperfect catalogue of our vegetables,
I shall add some remarks on the magnitude,
number, age, evaporation, emission of air, heat,
and effect of the trees.

Magnitude. The magnitude to which a
tree will arrive, depends upon the nature of the
tree, and of the soil. The following are the
dimensions of such trees as are esteemed large
ones of their kind, in this part of America.
They do not denote the greatest, which nature
has produced of their particular species^'* but
the greatest of those which are to be found in
most of our townss.

Trees.

Pine,

Maple,

Buttonwood,

Elm,

Hemlock,

Oak,

Basswood,

Ash,

Birch,

* A white Pine was cut at Dunstable in Newhampshire,in 1736, tic
iiamcter of whiok was seven feet, eight inches.

Douglass' Summary, Vol. IT. p. 53,

Diameter.

Height

Feet. Inch.

Feet.

6 0

247

5 9

5 6

0

3 0

R-

4 9

0 i>

4 0

p M

4 0

4 0

3 0

8S NATURAL AND CIVIL

Number. The number or thickness of the
trees, seems to depend chiefly on the richness
of the soil. In some parts of the country they
are so thick, that it is with difficulty wc can ride
among them. In other places, they have resolv-
ed themselves into trees of large dimensions,
which are generally at the distance of eight or
ten feet from each other. On one acre, the
number of the trees, is commonly from one
hundred and fifty to six hundred and fifty ; va-
rying in their number, according to the richness
of die soil, and the dimensions the trees have
attained. Estimating; a cord to be four feet in
height, and v.'idth, and eight feet in length, the
quantity of wood which is generally found on
one acre, is from fifty to two hunched cords j
where the large pines abound, the quantity of
wood is much larger than what is here stated ;
but these trees are never measured as cord
wood, but always applied to other purposes.

Age. There is a circumstance attending the
growth of trees, which serves to denote their
age, with great accuracy. Tlie body of a tree
does not increase by an universal expansion of
all its internal parts, but by additional coats of
new wood : And these are formed every year,
by the s^ which runs between the bark, and
the old wood. When a tree is cut down, this
process of nature becomes apparent in the num-
ber of parallel circles, or concentric rings, which
spread from the centre to the circumference of
the tree. In many observations made by oth^.
€rs, and by myself, upon trees whose ages were
known, the number of these circles was found
to agree exactly with the age of the tree. By

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 89

this method of computation, I have found
the pine to be the most aged tree of our
forest, several of which were between three
hundred and fifty and four hundred years of
age. The largest trees of other species, are
generally between two and tliree hundred years-
I am since informed by James Whelpley, Esq. of
Hubbardton that this is not correct ; that he
has made many observations of this kind, and
has always" found the Oak to be the most aged
tree of the forest. By their rings or circles
some of these trees appeared to iiim to be more than
one thousand years of age ; and that some of
the pines were of more than 600 years growth.
In the more advanced periods of vegetable life,
this method of computation often fails : TliQ
decays of nature generally begin in the central,
which are the most aged parts. From them,
the mortification gradually extends to others ;
and thus, the internal parts of the tree, die in
the same order in which they were produced ;
the progress of death, regularly and steadily fol-
io vv'in? the same order and course, which had
been observed in the progress of life. In this
state of a tree, no computation can be made of
its age : But it seems most probable, that the
time of its natural increase and decrease, are
nearly the same ; and that the natural period of
vegetable life, is double to that, which the tree
has attained, when it first begins to decay at th^
heart. '

Evaporation. Besides the growth, there
are other processes carried on by nature in ve-
getables, of which we have no suspicion, until
their elieets become apparent. This, is tlie case

90 NATURAL AND CIVIL

with the e\aporation ^^hich takes place from the.
woods, during the summer months. Every
tree,' plant and vegetable, is then pouring into
tlie atmosphere, an amazing quantity of fiuid.
On the 12th of June, 1789, 'l put the end of one
of the limbs of a small maple tree, into a bottle
containing about one pint. That part of the
limb which i^-as within the bottle, contained two
leaves, and one or two buds. The mouth of
the bottle was stopped ^^■ith beeswax, that no
vapour might escape. In fi^'e or six minutes,
the inside of the bottle wos clouded, "\vith a verv
fine vapour ; and in about half an hour, small
drops began to collect on the sides, and run
down to the bottom. At the end of six hours,
I -weighed the Vv'ater ^\hich had been collected
in the bottle during that time, and found it a-
mounted to sixteen grains, troy Vvxight. The
tree on which this experiment v/as made, was
eight inches and an half in diameter, and thirty
feet in heiHit, To make an estimate of the
quantit)' of -water, thro\vn oft' from this tree into
the atmosphere, in a given portion of time, I
endeavoured to ascertain the number of leaves
which it contained. With this view (after I
had made some other experiments) I had the
tree cut do\vn ; and was at the pains to count
the leaves, which it contained : the whole num-
ber amounted to twenty one thousand one hun-
dred and ninety two : Admitting the evapora-
tion to be the same from the other leaves of the
tree, as it was from those on which the ex'peri-
tnent was made, the quantity of water thro^A'n
off from this tree in the s})ace of twelve hours,
^VGuId be three hundred and thirty nine thou-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 91

sand and seventy two grains. Upon examining,
the number and dimensions of the trees, v.hich
covered the ground where I made the experi-
ment, I think it would be a moderate computa-
tion, to estimate them as equal both in magni-
tude and extent, on every square rod, to four
such trees as that which I had examined. This
will give six hundred., and forty such trees, for
the (juantity of wood contained on one acre.
This estimation is less than the quantity of wood,
which is generally found upon one acre of land
in this part of America. The weight of one
pint of water, is one pound avoirdupoise, or
seven thousand grains, troy weight ; and eight
such pints make one gallon. Making the cal-
culation upon these principles, it will be found
that ftom one acre of land thus covered with
trees, three thousand eight Imndred and seventy
five gallons of water are throvv-n off and dispers-
ed in the atmosphere, in the space of twelve
hours.

This computation, will not appear extrava-
gant to those, who have seen the great quantity
of juice, which naturally flows out of some of
our trees, vdien they are tapped in the spring.
A man much employed in making maple sugar^
found that for twenty one days together, one of
the maple trees ^vhich he tended, discharged
seven gallons and an half each day. A ' large
birch which v»'as tapped in the spring, ran at the
rate of five gallons an hour^ wmen first tapped ;
eight or nine days after, it wafj found to run at
the rate of about two gallons and an half per
hour ; and at the end of fifteen days, the dis-
charge continued in nearly the same quantity.

n NATURAL AND CIVIL ,

The sap continued to run four or five weeks, i
and from the remarks \Ahich were made, it was
tiie opinion of the observer, tliat it must have i
yielded as mueh as sixty barrels. j

The con'-.equcnce of this Avaste of the juices ,
was the death of the tree, the ensuing summer* ;
I have this account from the Hon. Paul Biig- !
honiy Esq. These accounts serve to show, v/hat \
a quantity of fluid, is naturally contained in some :
of our trees ; and from a source so plentiful, a
copious evaporation might naturally be ei^pected.

Emission of Air. Another curious ope- '
ration, which nature carries on in vegetables, of "
the highest use, but wholly invisible to us, is \
the emission of a large quantity of air. The '
tress, vegetables and flowers, while they are dis- \
charging a large quantity of water into the at^ ;
mosphere, are, at the same time emitting or i
tlii'owing off a much larger quantit}^ of air. On '•
the 15th of June, 1789, I put the same part of i
the maple tree into a bottle, as I had done in !
the experiment of June 12th. The bottle, with i
the limb of the maple thus enclosed, was then '.
filled up \\A\.\\ water ; and immersed in a large \
drinking glass, which had been filled before :
In this situation the bottle was inverted, and
fixed so as to have its mouth about three inches
under thfe surface of the water, in the drinking
glass. In fifteen minutes, air bubbles began to
appear around the leaves of the maple ; and
soon after to ascend to the upper part of the
bottle, and collect into large bubbles ; which,
as they increased, resolved themselves into one.
At the end of six hours, I found the quantity of
water which had been forced out of the bottle^

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 93

hy the air which was collected in it, amounted
to sixty one grains. The quantity of air there-
JTore, estimated by its bulk, which was emitted
from the limb of the tree, was to the quantity
of water thrown off from the same limb, as six-
ty one to sixteen. Making the calculation m
the same manner as before, this will give four-
teen thousand seven hundred and seventy four
gallons, as the quantity of air, thrown off in
twelve hours, from one acre of land, thus cov-
ered with trees. The purity and salubrity of
this air is as remarkable as the quantity of it.
It has been found that an animal will live five
times as long in this kind of air, as in common
air of the best qualityc The purity of the at=
mosphere, is constantly impaired by the respira-
tion of animals, by combustion, the putrefaction
of bodies, and by various other causes. In such
ways, the air over large and populous citi'es, is
so greatly and constantly corrupted, that it would
soon become unwholesome and noxious to the
inhabitants, if it was not removed, or purified.
Nature has made abundant provision' for this
purpose, in the immense quantities of air, which
new countries supply. The trees and vegeta-
bles perpetually produce it, in large quantities,
and in the purest state ; and the winds carry it
from one country to another, where it is n.03t
wanted.

Heat. The principle by which these ope-
rations are carried on, and which seems to have
the greatest effect in vegetation, is heat. Dif-
ferent vegetables require different degreei of
heat, or different climates, to give them their
greatest degree of increase, and perfecuoa.

roL. I. M

94 NATURAL AND CIVIL

All of them cease to grow, when their roots arc
in a state of congelation. As soon as the warmth
bf the spring comes on, the sap begins to as-
cend in their trunks, and branches : A fermen-
tation takes place in all their juices, and the ve-
getation becomes more or less rapid, as the
neat of the season ad^'ances. In Vermont, a-
boiit the tenth of Ma}^, the Maple, which is one
of the most numerous and forward trees of the
forest, begins to put forth its leaves. In one
or two days after, the whole body of the woods,
Appear of a beautiful light green ; and are con-
stantly growing of a darker colour, for ten or fif-
teen days, when the darkest shades become
fixed. During this period, the juices of the
trees appear to be in a state of high fermenta-
tion, their internal heat increases, and the effects
of their vegetation appear in an infinite variety
of buds, leaves and flowers. To ascertain the
degrees of heat, in different trees, at different
times of the year, and to mark their effects on
the leaves, and fruits, the following experiments
were made. With an auger, of one inch di-
ameter, I bored an hole twelve inches long, into
the body of the tree : In this hole, I enclosed a
thermometer of Farenheit's scale, stopping the
orifice with a cork, until the quicksilver had
acquired the degree of heat, which prevailed in
the internal part of the tree. The result of
these experiments, is set down in the following
table.

HISTORY OF VERMONT.

91?-

Time
I7S9-

June 30
July 30

Sept. IS

October 16

November 16

Heat

in a

Maple.

Heat

in a

Birch.

60

58

72

7a

70

67

6z

56

AS

43i-a

431-a

«i-a

Heat ! Heat
in a in an
Pine. , Ash.

60

73 I- »

Remarks on the state of
the Trees.

69 68 1

6ll-a

46

47

Leaves of the Maplc»
60 ■ about one sixth of their
natural growth. The
other trees just in their
bud, without any leaves.
7^ Leaves on each tree,

(fully grown.

2i No appearance of de-
cay in the leaves.
j Leaves on the Maple,
59 I"2jBirch, and Ash, begin to
decay, and turn white.

Leaves of the Maple
turned yellow, and begin
to fall. Leaves of the
Birch turned white, and
dead ; and about one half
of them fallen. Leaves
of the Ash, all fallen.
Leaves of the Pine, green
through the year.

No leaves on the Ma-
43 I-» 43 I-2ple, Birch, or Ash. The
heat of the trees become
exactly the same with
that of the earth, at the
depth of ten inches be-
low the surface.

From these observations it should seem,
that the temperature or heat of trees, is not the
same as that of the earth, or atmosphere ; but
is a heat, pecuhar to this class of bodies. It is
probably the same, in all trees of the same kind,
in similai' circumstances and situations. The
degree and variations of it, seem to depend on
the fermentation of the juices, and the state of
vegetation. It is not improbable the heat of
the same kind of trees, may be different, in dif-
ferent latitudes : Whether this is the case or
not, can be known only, by observations, made
in different countries. This heat v/hich prevails
in trees, seems to be the great principle or agent,
fey which the two fluids of water and air, are

96 NATURAL AND CIVIL

separated from one another, and emitted from
the trees. The quantity of water evaporated
from the trees on one acre, in twelve hours, we
have found to be three thousand eight hundred
and seventy five gallons : That of air, iourtecn
thousand seven hundred and seventy four gal-
lons. Before the evaporation, both these fluids
seem to have existed together in a fixed state ;
making a common mass, every where dispersed
through the body, limbs, and leaves ef the trees.
When the heat of the internal parts of the trees,
became from fifty eight to sixty degrees of Far-
enheit's thermometer, the buds were formed,
the leaves put forth, and the one fluid, seems to
have been separated, or formed into the two
fluids, of water and air. It seems probable from
this, that both these fluids had the sarne origin,
that heat was the principle, or cause by which
they were separated ; and that about fifty eight,
3s the degree of heat, which is necessary to be-
gin the separation of the air from the w ater.

Effect. The efiect of this perpetual vege-
tation, growth, and decay of vegetables, is an
extreme richness and fertility of soil. Neither
destroyed or removed by the hand of man, the
vegetable productions of the uncuhivated paits
of America, return to the earth by decay and
death, and corrupt on the surface from which
they grew. It is not only from the earth, but
from the air and water, that trees and plants de-
rive their nourishment, and increase : And where
no waste has been occasioned by man or other
animals, it is not impossible that the vegetables
may return more to the earth, than they have
takerA from it ; and instead of serving lo im-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 97

poverish, operate to render it more rich and fer-.
tile. Thus does the soil, in the uncultivated
parts of the country, from age to age derive in-
crease, richness and fertility, from the life,
growth, death and corruption of her vegetables.
This effect has been so great in America, that
ivhen our lands are first cleared of the wood,
we always find a black, soft, rich soil, of five
or six inches depth ; wholly formed of decayed
or rotten leaves, plants, and trees. The ex-
treme richness of this factitious soil, produces a
luxuriancy of vegetation, and an abundance of
increase in the first crops, which exceeds any
thing that can afterwards be procured, by all
the improvements of agriculture.

Powers of Vegetable Life. The
power with which nature acts in the productions
of vegetable life, in this part of America, may-
be deduced from such circumstances as have
been mentioned : From the immense extent of
our forests ; from the magnitude, number, and
variety of our trees, and plants ; from their rapid
increase, and duration ; and from the total want
of sandy deserts, and barren places. These and
other circumstances, denote an energy, a power
in the vegetable life, which nature has never ex-
ceeded in the same climate, in any other part of
the globe.

93 NATURAL AND CIVIL

CHAPTER VI.

Native Animals. .^71 account of the Quad-
rupeds ; with Observations on their Enumcro'
tion, Origi?iy Migration, Species, Magnitudei
Disposition, and multiplying Power, The
Birds, Fishes, Reptiles and Insects.

THE uncultivated state of America was
fevourable to the productions of animal life. A
soil naturally rich and fertile, and powers of ve-
getation extremely vigorous, produced those
immense forests, which spread over the conti-
nent. In these, a great variety and number of
animals had tlieir residence. Fed by the hand
and productions of nature, unmolested but by a
few and unarmed men, the productions of ani-
mal life every where appeared, in the various
fonns of quadrupeds, birds, fishes, and insects ;
and tlieir increase and multiplication, became
quick and rapid.

QUADRUPEDS.

Of that species of animals which are kno\'VTi
by the name of quadrupeds, America contains
nearly one half : Of these about thirty six, are
found in Vermont. Our forests afford shelter
and nourishment for the moose, bear, wolf, deer,
fox, wild cat, racoon, porcupine, woodchuck,
skunk, martin, haie, rabbit, weasel, ermine,
squirrel, mole, and mouse. In our rivers,
ponds, and lakes, the beaver, muskrat, mink,
and otter, ai'e to be found in lai*ge numbers?

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 99

Th e largest animal which is known in Ver-
mont is the Moose. It seems to be of the same
species as the Elk ; and in its general form, it re-
sembles the horse. His head is large, the neck
short ; with a thick, short, and upright mane,
the eyes are small, the ears are a foot long,
very broad, and thick ; under the throat, there
is a fleshy protuberance ;tlie nostrils are large;
the upper lip square, and hangs over the lower.
His horns are palmated, and when fully grown
are about four or five feet from the head to the
extremity : There are several shoots or branch-
es to each horn, which generally extend about
six feet in width from each other. The horns
weigh from thirty to fifty pounds, and are shed
every year. The hoofs of the Moose are cloven ;
his gait, is a long shambling trot ; his course,
very swift, and straight. When he runs, the
ratling of his hoofs, is heard at a considerable
distance ; in miry places, his hoofs are spread
several inches from one another ; and it is v/ith
the greatest ease, that he leaps over the highest
of our fences. The Moose is generally of a
grey, light brown, or mouse colour. The food
of this animal is grass, shrubs, the boughs and
bark of trees, especially the beech, which they
seem to prefer above all others, and a species of
inaple which is called moose wood. In sum-
mer, they keep pretty much in families. In the
winter, they herd together to the number of
twenty or thirty, in a company : They prefer
the coldest places ; and when the snow is deep,
they form a kind of yard, consisting of several
acres,, in which they constantly trample down
the snow, that they may more easily range

100 NATURAL AND CIVIL

round their yard ; and when they cannot come
at the grass, they live on the twigs and bark of
the trees. Their defence is chiefly with their
fore feet, with which they strike with great
force. The female is less than the male, and
generally without horns. The rutting season is
in autumn : The female generally brings forth
two at a birth, in the month of April, which
follow the dam a whole year. One of these
animals in Vermont, was found by measure, to
be seven feet high. The largest, are estimated
by the hunters, to weigh thirteen or fourteen
hundred pounds.

The Bear is frequently to be met with in
this part of America, and is always of a black
colour. It is not an animal of the most fierce,
and carnivorous disposition. There have been
instances, in which children have been devoured
by the bear ; but it is only when it is much ir-
ritated, or suffering with hunger, that it makes
any attack upon the human race. At other
times, it will destroy swine and young cattle^
but has not been known to make any attack up*
on men ; but always aims to avoid their pursuit.
The food of this animal is corn, sweet apples,
acorns, and nuts. In the end of autumn, the
bear is generally very fat, and chooses for the
place of his retreat the hollow of a rotten tree,
or some natural den, or cavern in the earth. In
such a situation he uses no exercise, appears to
be asleep, loses but little by respiration, and is
always found without any provision ; and it is
not until the warmth of the spring returns, that
he leaves his retreat, or goes abroad in quest of
food. This animal is valuable for its fiesh,

HISTORY OF VERMONT. iOl

grease, and skin. The female generally bears
two cubs a year. The bear arrives to a great
magnitude in this part of the continent. The
largest, of which the hunters give us any cer-
tain information, weighed four hundred and fifty
six pounds.

One of the most common and noxioiis of all
bur animals, is the Wolf. In the form of his
body, the wolf much resembles the dog. He
has a long head, a pointed nose, sharp and erect
ears, a short and thick neck, with sharp and
strong teeth. His eyes generally appear spark-
ling ; and there is a mildness, and a fierceness in:
his looks. The colour of the wolf in Vermont,,
is a dirty grey ; with some tinges of yellow a-
bout his ears, and legs. This animal is ex-
ti-emely fierce, sanguinary, and carnivorous^
When a number of them associate, it is not for
peace, but for war and destruction. The ani-
mal at which they most of all aim, is the sheep.
When they can find a flock of these, they seem
to delight in slaughter ; tearing their flesh, and
sucking their blood, after they are fully satisfied
with the fat of their tender parts. They attack
the deer, foxes, rabbits, and are enemies to ail
other animals ; and their attacks are generally
attended with the most horrid howlings. They
generally flee before the flice of the hunter ; but
when they have once tasted of human flesh, they
become more fierce, and daring, and seem to be
inflamed with greater fury. In such a state,
there have been instances in Vermont, in which
the wolves have ventured to make their attacks
upon men ; but they generally retire upon their
approach. They are not often to be seen in the

VOL. i:« N

102 Nx\TURAL AND CIVIL

day, but in the night venture into our yards,
and barns. These animals are yet in great
numbers, in this state ; they destroy many of
our sheep, in the night ; and find a safe retreat
in our woods, and mountains ; but arc gradual-
ly decreasing, as our settlements increase, and
extend. The wolf is a very prolific animal.
The female is in season in the winter, but the
male and female never pair. The time of ges-
tation, is about three months and an half ; and
the young whelps are found from the begin\jing
of May, until the month of July. The hunters
have sometimes found in their dens, a male, a
female, and a litter of nine young whelps. One
of the lai'gest wolves in Vermont, weighed nine-
ty two pounds. There is nothing valuable in
these animals but their skins, which afford a
warm and durable fur.

The Deer is one of our most com.mon and
Valuable animals. In the spring he sheds his
hair, and appears of a light red ; this colour
gradually grows darker until autumn, when it
becomes a pale, or cinerous brown ; and re-
mains thus through the winter. His horns arc
slender, round, projecting forwards, and bent
into a curve ; with branches or shoots on the
interior side. These branches do not com-
mence, until the deer is three years old ; from
which period, a new one rises every year ; and
by this circumstance, the hunters compute their
age. These l.oms are cast every spring ; the
new ones, m the course of a yeai', will grow two'
feet in length, and Meigh from two to four
pounds. The amorous season with these ani-
mals, is in the month of September. From

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 103

September to March, the bucks and does herd
togei-her ; early in the sprhig they separate, and
the does secrete themselves m order to bring
forth their young ; which generally happens in
the month of April. The female generally bears
two, and sometimes three, at a birth. The
fawns are red, most beautifully spotted with
white. They are easily tamed, and become as
gentle and domestic as a calf. The deer is an
animal of great mildness, and activity. They
are always in motion ; and leap over our high-
est fences, with the greatest ease. The largest
of which I have a particular account, weighed
three hundred and eight pounds. The deer are
numerous in Vermont; and on account of their
flesh and skin, are of much value. The rein^
deer is not to be found in this part of the conti-
nent. But there seems to be another species of
tlie American deer, distinguished chiefly by its
horns, and often by its colour. The horns of
this deer are never extensive, broad, and branch.^
cd, like those of the common deer : But they
are round, tliick, but little curved, and not more
than ten or twelve inches in length. This spe~
cies is generally larger than the other : Several
of tliem have large white spots, and some have
been killed which were tvholly white

The Fox abounds much in this part of A-
jnerica. The form, disposition, and habits of
this animal, aj'e eveiy v/here known. We have
four kinds of foxes in Vermont.

The Med Fcx bears upon a yellowish, or
rather a straw colour, l^his is esteemed the
common fox, and is the most frequendy to be
found. At its full gro\rth in the fall, this ajii^
mal wei|fhs twenty pounds.

J04 NATURAL AND CIVIL

The Grey Fox resembles the other in form,
and magnitude, and appears to differ from it on-,
ly in colour, which is of a beautiful silver grey*

The Cross i^ox resembles the other in form^
and magnitude ; but has a black streak, passingj
transversely fi"om shoulder to shoulder ; ■vvitl^
another along the back, to the tail. The other
parts of tills animal are of a red, or more gener-.
ally of a grey colour.

The Black Fox is the largest, and most val-
uable of all. The fur of this fox is the m^ost
iine, soft, and rich, of any. One of the largest
of the black foxes, was found to weigh twenty
three pounds.

The Fox is a very voracious animal ; dcr
vouring all kinds of poultry, birds, and animals,
which they can overcome. Flesh, fruit, honey,
^nd every part of the farmer's dairy are devour-:
ed by him with great avidity. This animal is
very prolific. The female is in season every
vear, in the v/inter ; and generally produces in
the month of April ; the litter is generally from
three to six.

The Catamount, seems to be the same
anim^al, which the ancients called Lynx, and
which is known in Siberia, by the name of
Ounce. In the form of its body it much re-
sembles the common cat, but is of a much lar-
ger size. It is generally of a yellow grey co-
lour, bordering upon a red or sandy ; and is
larger than our largest dogs. This seems to be
the most fierce and ravenous of any animal,
which we have in Vermont. Some years ago,
one of these animals was killed at Bennington.
\t took a large salf out of a pen, where the fence

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 1C5

way four feet high, and carried it off upon its
back. With this load, it ascended a ledge of
rocks, where one of the leaps, was fifteen feet
in height. Two hunters found the cat upon an
high tree. Discharging his musket, one of
them wounded it in the leg. It descended with
the greatest agility, and fur}^ ; did not attack
the men, but seized their dog by one of his
ribs, broke it off in the middle, and instantly-
leaped up the tree again with astonishing swift-
ness, and dexterity. The odier hunter shot
him through the head, but his fury did not cease,
but wdth the last remains of life. These ani-
mals have been often seen in Vermont ; but
they never were very numerous, or easily to be
taken. Of their fecundity, I have no particular
information. On account of their fierceness,
activity, and carnivorous disposition, the hun-
ters esteem them the most dangerous of any of
our animals. The weight of one of them, was
estimated by the hunter, at one hundred pounds.
The length of his body was about six feet, that
of the tail, three ; the circumference of the
body was two feet and an half, and the legs
were about thirteen inches long.

What is called the Wild Cat, is an ani-
mal, in most respects similar to our common
cats ; but different in its disposition, and di-
mensions. It is much larger, stronger, and
fiercer, than any of our domestic cats ; and
seems to be of the same disposition, and colour,
as the wolf. One of the largest of them was
found by the hunter, to weigh fifty seven pounds.
The Black Cat does not appeal* to be dis-
tinguished from the former, in any other respect

306 NATURAL AND CIVIL

than its colour. It is altogether black, and sel-
dom grows to so large a size, as the former. It
seems to be of a distinct species ; is as fierce
;ind ravenous as the other kind. These animals
are frequently found in the woods ; very wild,
extremely fiei'ce in combat, of great activity and
strength ; but never can be tamed, or made to
associate with our common cats. They are
valuable only on account of their furs. The
black cat was called by the Indians, the JFool-
laneeg : The largest of which I have any ac-
count, weighed twenty three pounds.

Another animal which does not greatly dif-
fer in appearance from a Mild cat, has been cal-
led the JFoIvcrine. The body of this animal is
about two feet and an half in length. It has a
short tail, and is of the same colour as the wolf.
This animal is of a very fierce, and caniivorous
disposition. Concealing himself ajiiong the
rocks and bushes, or taking a station upon the
limb of a tree, he watches for the approach of
prey. If the deer, or the moose comes within
his reach, he daits upon their backs, fastens up-
on their neck, and with great dexterity opens
their jugular vein with his teeth. This animal
is scarce, and not to be found but in the nor-
thern, and most uncultivated parts of the state.
I have no account of its fecundity, magnitude,
or other particulars.

The Racoon, in its shape or general form>
resembles the fox, but has a larger body, with
thicker and shorter legs. The lect have five
long and slender toes, armed \\'ith sharp claws.
The males ha\'e generally a large whitish stripe,
and the females a ^mailer one, v/hich runs across

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 107

the forehead. The tail is long", and round, with
annular stripes in it. This animal dwells in the
retired part of the woods, runs up the trees with
great agility, and ventures to the extremes of
the boughs. Its fur is thick, long, and soft j
and of a dark grey colour. Tlie weight of one
of the largest in Vermont, was thirty two pounds.
It is often found in hollow trees, and its flesh is
excellent food.

The Porcupine, or Hedgehog, is not un-
common in Vermont. What is singular and
tnost distinguishing in this anim.al, are the quills
with which he is armed. These quills are a-
bout four inches in length ; and of the size of
the quills of a pigeon. When the porcupine is
attacked by an enenrty, he places his head be-
tween his fore feet, and erects these quills all
around, in the form of an hemisphere. He has
no power to eject them from his body, or dart
them against his enemy, as has been frequently
said. But they are so loosely inserted in his
flesh, and of such a particular construction, that
they are easily extracted, and like a barbed dart
stick fast, and work themselves into the flesh of
any animal that touches their extremities ; nor
can they be easily withdrawn, without tearing
the flesh, but by incision. On this account
they prove extremely dangerous to the dog, or
to any other animal that makes an attack upon
, the porcupine. The colour of this animal, is
grey : His motion is extremely slow. The fe-
male produces her young every year ; the time
of gestation is about forty days, and she gener-
ally brings forth three or four at a birth. One
of the largest of these animals, weighed sixteen

lOS NATURAL AND CIVIL

pounds : The flesh is said to be agreeable, and
Tvholesome meat.

Another animal, which we frequently find
lii the fields^ is the Woodchuck. This animal
is about sixteen inches in length ; its body is
large, and round ; its legs are sliort ; and its
fore feet are broad, and fitted for the purpose of
burrowing into the eai'th. The colour of the
woodchuck is brown, his fat is extreme, the
flesh is wholesome and palatable food, his fur is
not very valuable. This animal resides in a
hole which he digs in the ground^ and feeds up-
on grass, corn, beans, and other vegetableSi
The fem.ale generally produces folir or five at a
birth. One of the fattest which I have seen,
weighed eleven pounds ; I believe this was one
of the largest size.

Th e Skun k is one of the most extraordina-
ry animals, of which we have any account. It
seems to be of the same species Vvith the pole-
cat, but is of a less size, and differs from it in
several respects. Its hair is long, and shiriing,
of a clouded or dirty -white, intermixed ^vith
spots of black. Its tail is long, and bushy, like
that of the fox. It lives chieRv in the woods,
and hedges, but often burrows under barns and
out houses. When undisturbed, this animal is
without any ill scent, or disagreeable effluvia.
Their natural evacuations are not more nauseous,
than those of other animals. Whole nests of
them will lie under the noor of a barn, and so
long as they are undisturbed, no disagreeable
odour will be perceiA^ed during the whole winter.
Their flesh, when it is properly dressed, is sweet
and nourishing. When pursued or attacked,

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 109

the skunk discovers its extraordinary powers,
by a singular and most effectual method of de-
fence. It emits a fluid of the most nauseous
and intolerable scent, that has ever been known.
So odious, subtle, and penetrating, is this ill
scented matter, that there is no animal which
can long endure it, or will venture to approach
the skunk, when he is throwing it out. It in-^
fects the air to the distance of half a mile all a-
round : And no method has been found, to ex*
tract the scent out of any object, on which the
odious fluid has been thrown. Time and air,
after a long period, afibrds the only complete
remedy. By accurate dissection lately made by
Dr. Mitchell^ it has been found that this ill scent-
ed fluid, is entirely distinct from the urine. It
is contained in two bags, situated in the poste-
rior parts of the body ; and suiTOunded by the
circular muscles in such a manner, that by their
constriction, the fluid is forced out with great
velocity and force. The urinary organs are
totally distinct from these bags.^ The female
produces a litter every year ; and they general-
ly amount to five or six in number. One of
these animals weighed seven pounds and aa
half, but whether it was one of the largest sizc^
I cannot determine.

The Martin is an animal, peculiar to cold
climates. It is found in large numbers in Ver-
mont, but chiefly in the most retired, and thick-^
est parts of the woods. Its colour is a dark
brown, with tinges of yellow ; sometimes the
colour approaches to a black ; The fur is fine>

• American PJmeum, Vol. V. p. 4? 7 .
VOL. I, O

no NATURAL AND CIVIL

soft, and much esteemed. This animal is from
eighteen to twenty inches in length. A large
one was found to weigh five pounds and one
quarter of a pound. The female produces from
three to six young ones, at a litter. The mar-
tin and sable dcnoLc the same animal in Ver-
mont.

Til E Ha r e is about eighteen inches in length :
It is always of a white colour, and has a fine,
and beautiful fur : Its flesh is a verv nourishing:,
and delicious food. This animal is very pro-
lific. The time of gestation is about thirty
days : The female bears three or four at a birth,
and has several litters in the course of a year.
A large hare ■weighs eight pounds. The ;.un-
ters find large numbers of these animals, iii this
part of the country.

The Rabbit is somethins; less than the
hare, but in ereater numbers. His colour, both
in summer and winter, is a light gre}', or dirty
white. The IcnsTth of the rabbit, is about six-
teen or seventeen inches ; one of the largest of
them, weighed seven pounds. The rabbit is
more prolific than the hare. The female bears
sooner, and has from four to eight, at a litter.
These animals ai'e readily found, in every part of
the state.

The Weasel has the form and appearance;
of a squirrel ; but is more slim, and active.
His eyes have an uncommon sprightliness ; his
look is keen, and piercing ; and his motions arc
sso quick, and various, that the eye can scarcely
follow them. This animal is of a red or brown
colour, and has a white belly. Its fur is very
fine, and soft. His food is corn, nuts, eggs.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. Ill

and all kinds of small animals. The weasel is
often found in hollow trees, and he frequently
enters into houses, barns, and other buildings,
in search of grain, chickens, mice, and young
animals. In Vermont, the weasel is about twelve
inches in length ; very narrow and slim, and
Aveighs about twelve ounces. The female bears
three, four, or five, at a birth ; but they do not
appear to be very numerous.

The Ermine is the most beautiful quadru.
ped, which is seen in our woods. In its form,
dimensions, activity, and fecundity, it resembles
the v/easel, but is rather larger ; one of them
weighed fourteen ounces. Its colour is a beau-
tiful white : The tail is tipped with a beautiful
black. Some of these animals have a stripe of
dark brown, or mouse colour, extending along
the back, from the head to the tail ; the other
parts being perfectly white. Tiiis little, brisk,
sprightly and beautiful animal, has the most fine
and delicate fur, tliat can be imaghied ; and the
animal itself is one of the greatest beauties of
nature.

Of the Sq^uirrel we have four or five spe-
cies ; grey, black, red, striped, and flying.

The Grey Squirrel is the largest, and most
common. This squirrel is about thirteen or
fourteen inches in length, w^ith a large bushy
tail, as long as the body. It is of a beautiful
silver grey colour, and has a fine soft fur. Its
nest is in the crotch, or hollow of a tree ; its
food, corn, acorns, and nuts. It lays up a store
of these provisions against winter, in the hollow
of old trees. The female bears her young in
the spring, and has generally three or four at a

112 NATURAL AND CIVIL

birth. The largest of these grey squirrels,
when they are fully fatted in the fall, weigh
three pounds and an half.

The Black 6'^?/i/-rr/ resembles the former in
evei)^ respect, but its colour, and size. It is
wholly black, without any change in its colour,
at any time of tlie year. Its size is something
less than that of the grey squirrel : the largest
I have knov/n, wcis:hed but two pounds and an
half. "^ ^

The Red Squh'rel docs not appear to differ
from the black, in any other pai'ticular, but the
colour.

The Striped Squin-elis smaller than either
of the other. The largest of these does not
%\'eigh more than nine or ten ounces. This
squirrel digs a hole in the ground, for the place
of his residence. He provides a store of nuts,
acorns, and corn, against winter. "I'hese are
carefully deposited in his nest ; and he resides
in the earth during the severity of the season.

The Flif'uig Squin-el is the most curious, and
beautiful of all ; and of the same size as the
striped one : This squirrel has a kind of Mings,
by which he will pass from one tree to another,
at the distance of thirty or forty {qhX, None of
our animals have a more fine or delicate fur,
than this little squirrel. He feeds on the buds,
and seeds of Aegctablcs ; and generally has his
nest in decayed, and rotten trees.

The Mole, Shrew Mouse, Ground
Mouse, arid Field Mouse, are to be found in
this part of America : they are so small, and
well knovvii, that they do not require a particu-
lar description. The hunters inform mc, that

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 113

there are several kinds of mice to be found in
the woods, which have not been described.
The grey rat, the black rat, and the water rat, have
now become common ; though but a few years
since, they were not to be found in any part of
the state.

The quadrupeds which have been described,
are to be found only upon the land. There are
others of an ampJiih'tom nature, which live upoa
the land, or in the Avater ; "these are to be found
in the rivers, ponds, and lakes.

One of the most sagacious and usetjiil of
these, is the Beaver. On account of his nat-
ural constitution and instincts, his social nature,
the works he performs, and the uses to which he
is applied, the beaver is the most extraordinary
of all our animals, and deserves a more particu-
lar description.

The American beaver is between three and
four feet in leuQ-th, and weip'hs from forty to
sixty pounds. His head is like that of a rat, in-
clined to the earth ; his back rises in an arch
between his head and tail. His teeth are long,
broad, strong, and sharp. Four of these, two
in the upper, and two in the under jaw, are cal-
led incisors. These teeth project one or two
inches beyond the jaw, and are shai*p, and curv-
ed, like a carpenter's gouge. In his fore feet
the toes are separate, as if designed to answer
the purposes of fingers and hands : His hind
feet are accommodated with v/ebs, suited to the
purpose of swimming. His tail is a foot long,
an inch thick, and five or six inches broad : It
is covered with scales, and with a- ski'n similar
to that of fish

lU NATURAL AND CIVIL

In no animal docs the social inst'wct and habit
appear more stronf^, or universal, than in the
beaver. ^\'hcrcsocvcr a number of these ani-
Bials are foinicl, they immediately associate, and
coiri])ine in society, to pursue their common
business, and welfare. Kvery thing is done, by
t\\^ united counsels, and labours, of the whole
comm.unit} . Their societies are generally col-
lected together, in the months of June and July ;
and their numbers when thus collected, fre-
quently auiount to two or three hundred ; all
of Vvhich, immediately engage in a joint effort,
to promole the common business and safety of
the whole society ; apparently acting under a
common inclination, and direction. When the
beaver is found in a solitary state, he appears
to be a tinud, inactive, and stupid animal. In-
stead of attem.pting any important enterprize, he
contents himself with di2:2:in2: a hole in the
earth for safety and concealment. IS is genius
seems to be depressed, his spirits broken, and
every thing enterprizing is lost in an attention
to personal safety ; but he never looses his
natural instinct to lind or form a pond.* When
combined iii societ}*, his disposition, and pow-
ers assume their natural direction, and are ex-
erted to the highest advantage : Every tiling is
then undertaken, which the beaver is capable
of performing.

Th e society of bea^'ers seems to be rp^ulatcd
and governed^ altogether by natural dis])ositionh,

* A young beaver was tamed in the soiitlif rn part of this state.
He became quiet, inofTensivc, and without any disposition to deparc.
But was most of al! pleased, when he was at work; tomiing a dam, in a
«raall stream near the house.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 115

and laws. Their society, in all its pursuits and
t)perations, appears to be a society of peace and
mutual afiection ; guided by one principle, and
under the same direction. No contention, dis-
agreement, contrary interests, or pursuits, arc
eyer seen among them ; but perfect harmony
and agreement, preyails through their whole
dominions. The jiiinciple of this union and
regulation, is not the superior strengdi, art, or
actiyity of any indiyidual : Nothing has the
appearance, among them, of the authoiity, or
iniiuence of a cliief, or leader. Their association
and management, has the aspect of a pure and
perfect democracy ; founded on the principle of
perfect equality, and the strongest mutual at-
tacliment. This nrincicle seems to be sufficient
to preserve the most perfect harmon}-, and to
regulate all the proceedings of their largest so-
cieties.

When these animals are collected together,
their first attention is to the public business and
affairs of the society, to which they belong.
The beayers are amphibious animals, and must
spend one part of their time in the water, and
another upon the land. In conformity to this
/laAV of their natures, their first employment is to
find a situation, conyenient for both these pur-
poses. With this view a lake, a pond, or a
running stream of water, is chosen for the scene
of their habitation, and future operations. If it
be a lake, or a pond that is selected, the water
is always of such depth, that the beayers may
haye sufficient room to swim under the ice ;
and one, of \\ hich they can haye an entire, and
undistyrbed possession. U a stream of water is

116 NATURAL AND CIVIL

chosen, it h always such a stream, as will form
a pond, thai shaii be every way coavciiient for
their purpose. And such is their foresight and
comprehension of these circumstances, that tliey
never form an erroneous judgment, or fix upon
a situation th*at will not answer their designs
and convt nience. Tiieir next business, is to
construct a dam. This is always chosen in the
most convenient part of the stream ; and the
form of it, is either direct, circular, or with an-
gles, as the situation and circumstances of the
Vv-ater and land, require : And . so ^veli chosen
is both the place, and the form of these dams,
that no engineer could give them a better situa-
tion and form, either for convenience, strength,
or duration. The materials of which the dams
are constructed, are wood, and earth. If there
be a tree on the side of the ri^■er, which would
naturally fall across the stream, several of the
beavers set themselves with great diligence, to
cut it down with their teeth. Trees to the big-
ness of twenty inches diameter, are thus thrown
across a stream, 'i'hcy next, gnaw ofFthe bran-
ches from the trunk, that the tree may assume
a level position. Others, at the same time, are
cutting down smaller trees, and saplings, from
one to ten inches diameter. These are cut in-
to equal and convenient lengths. Some of tlie
beavers di~ag these pieces of wood to the side of
the river, and others swim with them to the
place, where the dam is to be built. As many
as can find room, ai'e engaged in sinking one
end of these stakes ; and as many more in rais-
ing, fixing, and securing the other end. While
many of the beavers arc thus labouring upon

HISTORY OF VERMONT. UT

the wood, others are equally engaged in carry-
ing on the eartKern part of the work. The
earth is brought in their mouths, formed into a
kind of mortar with their feet and tails, and
spread over the vacancies between the stakes.
Saplings, and the small branches of trees, are
twisted and worked up with the nmd and slime^
until all the vacancies are filled up ; and no
crevice is left in any part of the work, for the
water to find a passage through. The magni-
tude and extent of the dams, w^hich the beavers
thus construct, is much laiger than we should
imagine was possible to be effected, by such la-
bourers, or instrumcntSi At tlie bottom, the
dam is from six to twelve feet thick ; at the
top, it is genendly two or three feet in widths
In that part of the dam, which is opposed to
the current, the stakes are placed obliquely ;
but on that side where the water is to fall, the
stakes are placed in a perpendiculoT direction ;
and the dam assumes the same form, and posi-
tion, as the stakesi The extent of these worksj
is from fifty to an hundred feet in length ; and
always of such an height, as to effect the pur-
poses they have in view. The ponds which
are formed by these dams, are of all dimensions;
from four or five, to five or six hundred acres.
They are generally spread over lands abound-
ing with trees j and bushes, of the softest wood:
Maple, birch, alder^ poplar, willow, &c. The
better to preserve their dams, the beavers al-
ways leave sluices, or passages near the middle,
for the redundant waters to pass off. These
sluices are generally about eighteen inches^ in
w^idth, and depth ; and as many in number, as
the waters of the stream generally require*

YOL. I, P

118 NATURAL AND CIVIL

When the public works arc complctccl, tlicir
domestic concerns and ajfuirs next engage their
attention. The dam is no sooner completed,
than the beavers separate into small bodies, to
build cabins, or houses Ibr themselves. These
houses are built upon piles, along the borders
of the pojid. Tiiey are of an oval form, resem-
bling the construction of an haycock ; and they
vary in their dimensions, from four to ten fcet
in diamctOr, according to tlie number of fami-
lies they are designed to accommodate. They
iU'e aUvays of two stories, generally of thi-ee,
aild sometimes they contain four. Tiieir walls
are from two to three feet in thickness, at the
bottom; and arc formed of the same materials
as their dams. They rise perpendicularly a
fevv7 feet, tlien assume a curx^cd form, and termin-
ate in a dome or vault, ^vhich answers the pur-
pose of a roof. These edifices are built with
much solidity, and n.eatness : On the inwai'd
side, they are smooth, but rough on the outside ;
always impetietrable to . the rain, and of suffi-
cient strength to resist the most impetuous
winds. The lower story is about tAvo feet
high : the second story has a floor of sticks^
covered with mud : the third story is divided
from the second, in the same manner, and ter-
tninated by the roof raised in the form of an
arch. Through each fioor, there is a conmiu-
nication ; and the upper floor is always above
the level of the water, when it is raised to its
greatest height. Each of these huts have two
doors ; one, on the land side, to enable them to
go out and procure provisions by land ; another
under the water, and below where it freezes, to

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 11^

preserve their commnnlcation with the pond.
If this, at any time begins to be coA'ered with
ice, the ice is immediately broken, that the
communication may not be cut ofF with the air.
In these huts, th!t families of the beaver*
have their residence. The smallest of their
cabins, contain one family, consisting generally
of five or six beavers ; and the largest of the
buildings will contain from twenty to thirty.
No society of animals, can ever appear better
regulated, or more happy, tlian the family of
beavers. The male and the female, always
pair. Their selection is not a matter of chance,
or accident ; but appears to be derived from
taste, and mutual affection. In September, the
happy couple lay up their store of provisions,
for winter. This consists of bark, the tender
twigs of trees, and various kinds of soft wood-
When their provisions are prepared, the season
of love and repose commences : And during
the winter tliey remain in their cabins, enjoy-
ing the fruits of their labours, and partaking in
the sweets of domestic happiness. Tow^ards
the end of winter, the females bring forth their
young, to the number of three or four. Soon
after, the male retires to gather fish, and vegeta-
bles, as the spring opens ; but the mother re-
mains at home, to nurse, and rear up the off-
spring, until they are able to follow their dams.
The male occasionally returns, but not to tarry,
until the fall of the year. But if any injury is
done to their public works, the whole society
are soon collected, and join all their forces to
repair the injury, which affects their common-
wealth.

120 NATURAL AND CIVIL

Not H I N G can exceed the peace and reguiaritt/^
v.liich prevails in the families, and through the
"vvhole commonnealth of these animals. No
discord or contention ever appears in any of
their families. Every beaver knows his own
apartment, and store iiouse ; and there is no
pilfering or robbing from one another. The
male and the female are mutually attached to,
never prove unfriendly, or desert one another.
Their provisions are collected, and expended,
without any dissention. Each knows its ov/n
family, business, and property ; and they are
never seen to injure, oppose, or interfere with
one another, The same order and tranquility
prevail, through the commonwealth. Different
societies of beavers, never make war upon one
another, or upon any other animals. When
they are attacked by their enemies, they instant-.
ly plunge into the water, to escape their pur^
suit : And when they cannot escape, they fall
an easy sacrifice.

In the arts necessarx'- for their safetv, the
beavers rise to great eminence. The situation,
direction, form, solidity, beauty, and durability
of their dams, are equal to any thing of the kind,
which has ever been performed by man. They
always form a right judgment, Avhich way the
tree will fall : And when it is neaily cut dowTi,
they appoint one of their number, to give no.
tice by a stroke of his tail, when it begins to
fall. With their tails, they measure the lengths
of their dams, of the stakes they are to use, of
a breach that is made in their works, and of tlie
length of the timber that is necessary to repair
^t, \Vhen an enemy approaches tlieir domin-f

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 121

ions, the beaver which makes the discorer}% by-
striking on the water with his tail, gives notice
to the whole village of the approaching clanger ;
and all of them instantly plunge into the water.
And when the hunters are passing through their
country, some of their number appear to be
centinels, to give notice of their approach.

The colour of the beaver is dift'erent, accor*
ding to the different climates, which they in-
habit. In the most northern parts, they are
generally black ; in Vermont they are brown ;
and their colour becomes lighter as we approach
towards tlie south. Their fur is of two sorts;
all over their bodies. That which is longest,
is generally about an inch long, but on the back,
it sometimes extends to two inches, gradually
shortening towards the head, and tail. This
part is coarse, and of little use. The other
part of the fur consists of a very fine and thick
down, about three quarters of an inch long,
so soft that it feels like silk, and is that, which
is used in manufactories. Castor, of so much
use in medicine, is produced from the body of
the beaver. It is contained in four bags, ill the
lower belly.

The largest of these animals, of which I have
any certain information, weighed sixty three
pounds and an half : But it is only in a situa-
tion remote from, and undisturbed by the fre-
quent appearances of men, that they attain their
greatest magnitude, or their highest perfection
of society. The beaver has deserted all the
southern parts of Vermont, and is now to be
found only in the most nprthern, and uncultiva^
te^ p^ts of the state.

1^2 NATURAL AND CIVIL

The Muskrat seems to be a smaller kind
of beaver, resembling it in every thing but its
tail. This is also an amphibious anim.al, and
forms a cabin of sticks and mud, in some stag-
nant water ; but is less fearful of the approach-
es of men, and aifords a very strorig musk.
These animals are to be foimd, in very consid-
erable numbers, in our creeks, and lakes ; but
are much less numerous, than tlK^y were for-
merly. The muskrat, in this part of America,
is about fifteen inches in lenuth ; the srreatest
magnitude I have known is fi^-e pounds and
three quarters of a pound. A litter of these
muskrats, vvill frequently amount to four, five,
and sometimes six.

Another of our amphibious animals, is the
Mink. It always resides in the neighborhood
of rivers, ponds, or lakes ; and provides a place
of residence, by burrowing into the earth. The
mink is about twenty inches in length ; his legs
are short, his colour brown, and his fur ir> more
valuable than that of the muskrat. One of the
largest which I have knoMU, weighed four
pounds and one quarter of a pound. The fe-
male produces tv.o or three, at a birth.

The Otter is a voracious animal, of great
activity and fierceness. When it is fully grown,
it is five or six feet long ; ^^ ith sharp and strong
teeth ; short legs, and membranes in all his
feet ; and fitted either for running or swimming.
The otter explores the rivers and ponds ia search
of fish, frogs, Vvatcr rats, and other small ani-
iials : And when tlicse are not to be had, he
'ves on the boughs and bark of young, or

"(uatic trees. He has generally btx^n rai^.kcd

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 123

among the amphibious animals, which can live
either in the air, or v/ater ; but he is not pro-
perly an amphibious animal, for he cannot li\e
witliout respiration, any more than the land ani-
mals. The female is in heat in the winter, and
bears lier young in the month of March ; tlie
litter generally consists of three or four. The
fierceness and strcnp'th of the old otters, is such,
that the dog can seldom overcome them : And
when they cannot escape, tlicy Vv'ili attack the
hunter with srreat ra^'e. The colour of this ani-
mal is black, and its fur is much esteemed.
The otter formerly abounded very much in our
creeks, and rivers ; and especially in those,
which empty themselves into Lake Cham-
plain : On this account, one of them still bears
the name of Ottercreek ; but the animal is now
become scarce. The largest otter, of which I
have a particular account, w^eighed twenty nine
pounds and an half.

To this account of the quadrupeds of Ver-
mont, I shall subjoin some reflections on the
general state of these animals in America.

The enumeration very intperfect. Our ac-
counts of the quadrupeds in this, and in every
part of America, must be viewed as greatly im-
perfect. The descendants of Europe have set-
tled along the sea coasts, and they have pene-
trated to the lakes, and most of the navigable
rivers. But the internal partsoiS. America, are but
little known : And all that immense tract of country
in N. America, which lies to the north, and to
the west of the lakes, is wholly unexplored. It
is not to be doubted, but these extensive re-
gions, abound with quadrupeds : Of what spe-

124 NATURAL AND ClVlL

cies, and hou' nimierous, we cannot so miicli as
conjecture. When the country shall be fully-
explored, and Vvhen able naturalists shall have
visited and examined the internal parts, the his-
tory of the animals of America, may be brought
to some perfection ; but it is far from it, at
present. All the animals which havfe been enu-
merated, are only those which are frequently
found, in a small part of the continent. That
an animal of great and uncomnio*i magnitude,
has existed in North America, and in Siberia, is
ceitain from the bones of the animal wiiich } ct
remain. On the benks of the Ohio, and in
many places farther north, tusks, grinders, and
skeletons, of an enormous size, are to be found
in great numbers. Some of them lie upon the
surface of the ground, and others are five or six
feet below it. Some of the tusks are near seven
feet long, one foot and nine inches at the base;
and one foot near the point ; the cavity at the
base, nineteen inches deep. From the size and
thickness of these bones, it is certain that they
could not belong to the elephant ; but denote
an animal five or six times as large, and of the
carnivorous kind. We have tlie testimony of
the Indians that such an animal still exists in
the western parts of America . And it would be
contrarv to the whole economv of nature, to
suppose that any species of her animals, is be-
come extinct. This animal must formerly have
been numerous, at those places, where their
bones are found in such numbers. The proLa-
bllity is, as the means of subsistence were de-
stroyed, they removed further to the Westward 4
But until those parts of America shall be ex-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 12-)

|)lorccl, little information is to be expected con-
cerning this animal of the most enormous bulk :
And we may as well call it the Mammoth, as by
any other name ; or the Pseudo Elephant, as it
has been named by Dr. Huntero From this,
and from many other considerations, it appears
that the enumeration of the American quadru-
peds, is extremely imperfect.

Origin. The animals which are spread
over the face of the eaith, are fitted by nature,
for the climate and countryj w^here they reside.
No animal, or vegetable, has a constitution a-
dapted to every- country : And there are none,
but what are suited to some particular part of
the earth, where they will arri-'/e to their great-
iest perfection. A camel is peculiarly fitted, for
the burning sands of Arabia : And the reindeer
will flourish the best in Lapland, Hudson's Bay,
and those northern countries, where, the cold is
the most intense. The origin therefore df dif-
ferent quadrupeds, is to be sought in those cli-
mates, that appear to be the best adapted to
their growth and multiplication. There are
animals in the torrid zone in America, which
are never found in any other part of the earth.
"I'his is the case with the Tapyr of Brasil, the
Puma and Jugar, the Lama and Paco. These
animals have never wandered into any other part
of the globe : They are therefore to be esteem-
ed indigenous, or natural to the hot climates of
America. The same is the case with the ani-
mals of the torrid zone in Asia, and Africao
The elephant, and rhinoceros, are productions
of Asia. The deserts of Zaara and Biledulgerid
in Africa, may be termed the native country of

VOL. I. Q ■

1'2G NATURAL AND CIVIL

lions, tygers, and panthers. No part of the
clluiate of America is bO intensely hot, or sandy,
as to render it the proper country for the pro=
duction or increase of animals, so fierce and
noxious. These quadrupeds of hot climates,
have never wandered from the one country, to
the other : Not because they could not find a
passage, but because they must have passed
through a climate, the cold of which, being
sucli as they could not endure, M'as an effectual
bar to theif passage. There are otiier quadru-
peds which are common to America, to the
north of Asia, and to Europe. Of this kind
are the bufl'alo, white bear, carabou, black bear,
eik, moose, red deer, fallow deer, wolf, roe^
glutton, lynx, wild cat, beaver, badger, red fox,
grey fox, black fox, otter, monax, vison, por-
cupine, martin, water rat, ^v^easel, ermine, flying
squirrel, mole, and mouse. If we add the un-
known animal, v/hich we have called the mam-
moth, the number of those quadrupeds which
arc common to both hemispheres, will amount
to thirty. All of them, are the quadrupeds oF
cold countries ; fitted by nature to that climate,
through which the passage must have been,
from the one country to the other. The origin-
al situation therefore of these quadrupeds, must
have been a cold country. But whether they
passed from the nortlieastern parts of Asia, into
America ; or whether they issued from the
northwest parts of America, into Asia ; we have
no way to determine. The probaJDility is equal,
upon either supposition. All that we can de-
termine is, that they were originally the quad-
rupeds of a cold climate.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 127

Migration. Animals of every kind when
oppressed by hunger, harassed by their ene-
mies, or wlien they can find a more comfortable
situation, will migrate from one country to an-
other. Their migration when chosen and vol-
untary, is always with a view to better accorii-
modations ; to a situation more favourable for
food, growth, and multiplication. Directed by
the hand of nature, their natural progress is not
to a worse, but to a better situation. They do
Jiot leiive their own countr}^, to settle in one less
suited to their subsistence, and increase ; but
to acquire greater advantages ; an increase of
food, numbers, and vigour. Whether the mi-
gration of quadrupeds then was from Asia, or
from America, there can be no doubt, but that
they found in the country to which they repair-
ed, a climatC;, soil, and means of subsistence,
equally favourable to them, as those which they
left. Had there been any very great difference
in the provisions, and accommodations of na-
ture, in either country, the quadrupeds that
could easily migrate, would not have remained,
for any considerable time, common to them
bodi. Nothing therefore can be less probable,
or more contrary to the laws, tendencies, and
operations of nature, than the European idea
first introduced by M. Buffon, that the quadi'U-
peds of Europe migrated into a country in A-
merica, where every thing was adapted by na-
ture, to their diminution, degradation, and de-
crease. Had not the northern parts of Asia,
and America, been wxU suited to the subsistence,
vigour, and increase of these quadrupeds, there
would not have been any voluntaiy mig;ration,

■198 NATURAL AND CIVIL

from the one to tlie other ; nor would these
animals have remained, for so long a time, com-
mon to them both.

Species. Hon- far nature has proceeded m
the production of quadrupeds, we have not as
yetj sufficient information to determine. There
may be many species, yet unknown, in those
parts of the earth which have not been explor-
ed : Nor is the enumeration complete, in those
countries which are known. The most that
has been done in this branch of natural history,
is to be found in the celebrated vroi k of M.
BufFon. As the result of his inquiries and in-
formation, this able philosopher concludes that
the whole number of quadrupeds;, which are
epread over the face of tlie earth, Avill form a-
bout two hundred different species or kinds. '"^
Of these, one hundred are found in America,
and about seventy five are peculiar to it. If
the power, the force, or the vigour of animated
nature, is to be estimated by the species of
quadrupeds, which different countries contain,
the conclusion will be, that nature has acted
with the greatest vigour and energy in Ameri-
ca. In tlie different climates in Amerion, na-
ture has produced seventy five species of quad-
rupeds : the number of those which are pecul-
iar to the other parts of the globe are on.e hun-
dred. The dimensions of America, compared
with the dimensions of Asia, Africa, and Eu~
rope, by the computation of the modern geogra-
phers, are as one hundred and forty one to two
hundred and forty nine.f The ratio of one

♦ Vol. IX. 4T.

•j- Guthrie's Geography, p. 15,

' HISTORY OF VERMONT. 125

hundred and forty one to two hundred and for-
tj nine is the same as seventy fne to one hun-
dred and thirty two. And so many species
should be found, in the other parts of the globe,
to preserve an equality : But this is thirty tv.o
more, than nature has produced. In respect
then to the different species of quadrupeds, if
we are to judge by any enumeration which has
yet been made, the greatest force and vigour of
nature is found in America.*

Magnitude. The magnitude which any
animal will attain, seems to depend much upon
its original constitution, the climate, and proper
nourishm.ent. In tlie original constitution of
each animal, the Creator seems to have estab-
lished certain laws, respecting its form, genera-
tion, expansion, and support. The proper mag-
nitude of the animal, is therefore assigned by
nature, to each species : In this way, the ori-
ginal limits are fixed ; above, or below^ which,
no individual of that species shall rise, or fall.
Within these limits, those variations may take
place, which we mean to express, w^hen we call
the animal great, or small. But no circum-
stance will reverse the la'ws of nature, enable
the different species of animals to exchange
tlieir proper form, and magnitude ; to debase
the ox into a mole, or to exalt the mole to the
size of the ox. Nature has also fitted each
quadruped for the climate, in which it was ori-
ginally placed ; and in that climate only, will it

* THE enumeration of quadrupeds seems to be*too imperfert to
afford any accurate calculations of this kind. According to M. BufTon's
latest conclusions, in his Epoques de la Nature, there are three hundred
specie* of quadrupeds. America according tsthe\^8t)e Clavigerp, ce?>-
tains about one half of these.

130

NATURAL AND CIVIL

attain its proper perfection. The lion would
lose its fierceness, and perish, if it was removed
to Lapland ; and the reindeer would diminish,
and die, if it was carried to the sandy deserts of
Africa. In those climates onlv, to which na-
ture has adapted each animal, will it attain its
greatest magnitude, and most perfect form.
The animal, to which nature has thus assigned
its proper constitution, and climate, must be
preserved and sup])orted by proper food, or
nourishment. A deficiency here, will bring on
leanness, impotenc)'-, a diminution of size, and
a gradual waste and consumption of the \\'holc
species. But when the climate, and the food,
are both suited to the natural constitution of the
animal, their joint influence will produce the
greatest size or magnitude, that species will ad-
mit.

By comparing the magnitudes of such quad-
rupeds in Europe, and in America, as are com-
mon to both, and derive their support from the
hand of nature, we shall of consequence have
another comparative view of the vigour and
force, to which animated nature arrives, in eacii
country. Several of those quadrupeds, vvliosc
weight has been ascertained in Vermont, M.
Buiion has given us the weight of in Europe.
They are these,

Vk'"tiglit in Europe.'
lb. cz.

153 7

69 8

288 8

13 5

2 2

1 9

The Bear
Wolf
Deer

Fox, red
Porcupine
* ^Martin *

Weight in Vennont.
lb. oz. ■

456

92
308

20

16
5 4.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 131

Weight in Europe,
lb. oz.

Weight

i!Ti Vermont
lb. oz.

3 3

7 8

7 6

8

S 4

7

2 2

12

8 2

14

2 2

10

18 5

63 8

8 9

29 8

Polecat

Hare

Rabbit

Weasel

Ermine

f Ijdng Squirrel

Beaver

Otter

From this comparison it appears, that every-
one of these animals, is larger in America, than
it is in Europe. The inference is clear, and
decisive : It is in America, and not in Europe^
that these quadrupeds of a cold climate, attain
their greatest magnitude, and highest perfection.

If the comparison should be made, between
the quadrupeds of the torrid zone, the reverse
will be found to be the case. The elephant,
the rhinoceros of Asia, are much larger than
the quadrupeds of Peru and Brasil. The truth
is, America is the most favourable to the pro-
ductions, and growth, of the quadrupeds of cold
climates : Asia is the most favourable to the
productions, and growth of the quadrupeds of
a hot climate. But the greatest of all animals,
the Mammoth, was not an animal of the torrid,
but of the temperate zone ; and was the pro-
duction of both countries, of Asia, and of A»
merica.

Temper and Disposition. Most ani-
mals have a particular disposition and character
assigned to them by nature, indelibly fixed, and
which distinguishes the whole species. Thus
some arc naturally iierce, sanguinarv, and car-

332 NATURAL AND CIVIL

I

nivorous ; while others are mild, temperate,
and gentle : And all of them, are not a little'
influenced, by the climate they inhabit. In the
hottest climate, and in the burning sands of Af-
rica, the most ravenous, and tlie fiercest animals
abound : The lion, the tyger, and the panther,
are there ; in their greatest size, their largest
numbers, and most extreme fierceness. lit
such places, the vegetables also contain their
strongest qualities ; the drugs, perfumes, and
poisons, are the most active, subtle, and power-
ful. In Ai];icrica every thing in her vegetables,
fruits, and animals, is more mild and tempcratCo
The quadrupeds that most abound, are the la-
ma, paco, buffalo, elk, deer, fox, beaver, hares,
rabbits, and squirrels ; animals, marked v.'ith a
mildness, and gentleness of character. Those
that are the most fierce, the bear, the wolf, the
W'ild cat, the otter, the cougar, or tapyr, are sel-
dom known to make their attacks upon men,
unless they are impelled to it by extreme hun-
ger, provocation, or self defence. It was not
therefore with the most fierce and ravenous ani-
mals, that America abounded : Her quadrupeds
were of a more mild, and temperate disposition.
To these, her climate gives the greatest size,
tliQ highest perfection, and the largest increase.

IXCREASE AND MULTIPLYING PoWER,

The increase and multiplying power of animals,
is derived partly from nature, and partly from
situation, and other circumstances. Nature
has ma.de those animals v/hich are the most
large, fierce, and noxious, the least apt to mul-
tiply. The smaller and more useful any quad-
ruped is, the more rapid is its increase. All of

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 153

{hem bring forth their youni^, at that season of
the yeai-, when nature has made the most suita-
ble and ample provision, for their food and
support. And then they multiply with the
i^reatest rapid ityj when they are the least mo-
lested by man. But whatever be their multi-
plying power, it would require a long period of
time, before thev would arrive at that increase
of numbers, in Vvhieh their jprogress Would be
checked, by the want of food. They would
naturally spread over the whole continent^ be-
fore they arrived to such a state* This they
had done in every part of America, when it was
first discovered by tlie Europeans : Every part
of the continent, fitted for their nourishment
and growth, abounded with them* How far
nature may proceed this way, or what is the
greatest number of quadrupeds, that the uncul-
tivated state of any country will support, we
have no observations to determine. But it
seems probable, that the maximum had already
taken place ; that America contained her full
number of quadrupeds. No observations or
phenomenaj denote that there has been any in-
crease of these animals, in the uncultivated parts
of the continentj since its first discovery ; or
that they ever were more thick and numerous,
in any other part of the globe. How long a
period nature required to advance to this state
in America, 'we have no data to determine*
But if we may judge of the energy with which
she acts, from the effects of her multiplying
power, the conclusion will be, that in no coun-
try has she displayed greater povv'ers of fecundi-
ty than in America. These circufUsUnce*
vol.. ip R

lU NATURAL AND CIVIL

denote an high antiquity, in the origin of the
American quadrupeds ; and a great fertility in
that climate and country, in which they have
attained their greatest numbers, their gi'eatest
magnitude, and their greatest fecundity.

BIRDS.

The Birds which abound In every part of
America, make a cui'ious and beautiful part of
her natural history. Catesby has given an ele-
gant description of the birds of Carolina. Belk-
nap has furnished a good catalogue of those of
Newhampshirc. Most of the birds which have
been mentioned by these authors are to be found
in all the northern states. As we approach
further towards the north, a great number and
varietv of water fowl are to be found, in the
lakes, rivers, and harbours, which have never
been described, or classed.

In Vermont we ha^'e most of the birds,
which are known in the inland parts, and lakes
of the northern climates. Some of them seem
to be fitted by nature, to endure all the severity
of our climate, and are to be seen in the coldest
weather of our winters. Of this kind, are
The Crow. Coj-vus Comix.
^^ Hawk, forked tail. Falco Furcatus.
^' Owl. Strix Asio,
Blue Jay. Cofvus Crist at us.
Snowbird. Emberiza Hyemalis.
Partridge. Perdix Sylvcstris.
Woodpecker, redheaded. Picus Capite toto rubr§.

There are several other birds, the robbin,
blackbird, lark, snipe, bluebird, &c. which arc

April r.
Nov. aa..

oa. 10.

, Ap4oSp.3»

HISTOHY of VERMONT. 135

seen as soon as the snow goes off, in the spring.
They are not seen in the winter, but they are
found late in the falL From their late and ear-
ly appearance, it is not improbable that some of
tiiem may tarry here through the winter.

Those which are esteemed birds of passage,
with the usual times of their appearance, and
(departure, are

Timeofap- Departure
pearance.

The Snowbird. Emberizahyemal'isi^oM, 20.
Wild goose. Anas canadensis. March 15
Wild Pigeon. Columha mig7'ato7iaM^rc\i 20.
HouseSwallow. Hirundocaudaacculeata^
Barn Swallow. HiTundo Rustica.
Ground Swallow. Hirundo JRiparia.
Black Martin. Hirundo Pcrpiirea^

THESNowBiRDisa beautiful, active, spright-
ly, little animal. They are generally of a grey
colour, and less than a sparrow. Flocks of
them appear, as soon as the snow begins to fall
in any considerable quantity ; and generally a
day or two before. They perch on the spires
of vegetables above the snow, on tlie bushes,
and trees ; and collect on the spots of bare
ground. In the most severe storms of snow,
these birds appear to be the most active and
lively. They feed on the seeds of vegetables,
and are extremely fat and delicious ; but they
are too small to be molested on this account.
They seem to be of different colours, black,
white, and grey ; but they all disappear as soon
as the snow goes off.

The Wild Goose, from the beginning of
April, to the middle of November, resides

136 NATURxYL AND CIVIL

chlcily in tlic more northern, and northeasterly
parts of America. In those parts they produce
their young-, and are to L>e found in the rivers
and harbours, in immense numbers. In No-
T'cmber they come in large flocks from the
north, and northeast, and pass off to the south-
v/cst. In March and April, they return from
the southwest in a contra',y direction, and go
back to their summer habitation. These fiocks
frequently consist of fif^y or sixty : The}' fl^' at a
gi'cat height, and appear to observe great regu-,
larity in their passage. They sometimes iol-
low one another in a straight line, but are more
generally drawn up in the form of a wedge ;
ar«d appear to be led by one of the strongest,
and most active. While they keep together,
they seem to understand their course perfectly
well ; but if bv anv means their order is bro-
ken, and the flock dispersed, several of them
"wander out oi-their course, appear to be per-
plexed, descend to the earth, and are often kil-
led or taken. When tamed, they will join
with a floclv of domestic geese ; but at the usu-
al times of migration, aie Aery apt to jcin any
flock, which approaches near to them, in their
passage.

In the Wild Pice ox, the multiplvine'
power of nature acts with g-eat force and vigour.
The male and female always pair : they sit
alternately upon the eggs, and generally hatch
but two at a time ; but this is repeated several
times in a season. The accounts "which are
given of the number of pigeons in the unculti-
vated parts of the country Mill appear almost in-:
qr?^i}jlc to those vrho |ic;vc r-ever s?en th^ir

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 137

licsts. The surveyor, Richard Hazcn^ who ran
tlie line which divides Massachusetts from Ver-
mont, in 1741, gave this account of the appear-
ances, which he met with to the westward of
Connecticut river. " For three miles together
the pigeons' nests were so thick, that five hun-
dred might lv:ve been told on the beech-trees at
one time ; and could they have been counted on
tlie hemlocks, as well, I doubt not but five thou-
sand at one turn round."* The remarks of
the first settlers of Vermont, fully confirm this
account. The follo\\ ing relation was given mc,
by one of the earliest settlers at Cendon :
" the number of pigeons was immense. Twen-
ty five nests were Irequently to be found on
one tree. The earth was covered with
these beech trees, and with hemlocks, thus load-
ed with the nests of pigeons. For an hundred
acres together, the ground was covei^d with
their dung, tg the depth of two inches. Their
noise in the evening was extremely troublesome,
and so great that the traveller could not get any
sleep, where their nests were thick. About an
hour after sunrise, they rose in such numbers
as to darken the air. When the young pigeons
were grown to a considerable bigness, before
they could readily fly, it v.as common for the
settlers to cut down the trees, and gatlier a horse
load in a few minutes," This account may
appear improbable to those who have not ob-
served the fecundity of nature. But it falls
much short of what has been observed in the
state of Oliio. The following is from Harris' $

♦ Belksap'i hwtory ofNcwhsrapshirc, Vol, III. p. 171,

I3S NATURAL AND CIVIL

nccoimt of that state p. 179, 180. "The vast
*' flights of pigeons in this country seem incred-
*' ibie. But there is a large forest in Water-
*' ford, containing several hundred acres, which
*' has been killed in consequence of their light-
" ing upon it during the autumn of 1801.
" Such numbers lodsred UDon rhe trees that

O I.

*' they broke ofFlarge limbs ; and the gTound be-
*' low is covered, and in some places a foot
*' thick, V, ith their dung, which has not only
*' killed all the iuidergrov;th, but all the trees
**are dead as if they had been girdled."

Tke above, he adds is confirmed 6y a letter
from the Rev. Mr. Story^ dated Marietta, June
3, 1803. *' I ha^'e visited two pigeon-roosts,
** and ha^'c heard of a third. Those I have seen
*' are astonishing. One is supposed to cover
'' one thousand acres ; the other is still larger.
" The destruction of timber and brush on such
*' large tiacts of land by ,thesc small animals is
•' almost incredible. How many millions of
*' them must have assembled to effect it ! espe-
*' cially as it was done in the course of a few
*' weeks." The settlement of the country has
since set bounds to this luxurlancy of animal
life ; diminished the number of diese birds, and
drove them further to the northward.

We have four species of Svv^ ALLOWS in this
part of America. 1. The house swallow. This
may be readily distinguished from the rest, by
the greater forkedness of its tail. It has also
a red spot upon its forehead ; and under its
chin. This species build their nests in chim-
neys. Their nests are made of small sticks,
cemented together, witii a kind of gum, and

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 139

mud ; they are covered or arched over the tops,
and the aperture is on one side. These swal-
lows appear the earliest of nny, in the spring :
And a few days before their departure in the
fall, they associate on the tops of buildings, dry
trees, and bushes, as if about to depart in com-
panies. 2. The barn swallow. The size of
this, is rather less than that of the other ; and
the tail is not forked so much. These swallows
build their nests in barns and out houses ; and
they are formed of grass straw, and feathers.
Their eggs are speckled, of a dai'k bro\vn and
white. It is called the barn swallow from the
place in which it generally builds its nest. 3.
The ground swallow. This is the smallest of the
whole species. These swallows form a hole
in sandy banks, and on the sides Of rivers, of
eighteen or twenty four inches in length.
Their nests ar§ made at the e:;tremity of these
holes, of straw and feathers, laid together in a
loose and careless mann'jr. Their ees's are
perfectly white. The h'oles in Vv'hich they are
laid, are designed only for their nests : None of
the swallows ever reniain in them, during the
winter. 4. The black martin. This is the i^ar-
gest of all our sv/aliows. They build their
nests under the eaves of houses, in the secret
or retired places of out houses, and old build-
ings. Tlicir nes'cs are made of straw and feath-
ers. They arrive the latest, and disappear the
soones;t of anv of the swallows, which visit us.

The usual times of the appearance and disap-
pearance of these birds, serve to m:drk the tem-
pei-ature of the climate, with as much precision,
as any of the phenomena of nature. But they

140 NATURAL AND GIVIL

do not seem to be properly birds of passage.
At Danbij in this state, the inhabitants report^
thiit some of them were taken out of a pond
in that town, some years ago. A man was em-
ployed in the winter, to procure the roots of the
pond lily, for medicinal purposes. Among the
mud and roots which he threw out, several swal-
lows were found inclosed in the mud ; alive,
but in a torpid state. Tlie account is not
doubted among the inhabitants ; but I have
not the testimony of any persons who saw
these swallows. It has been doubted by some
able naturalists, whether it is possible for the
swallow to live in such a situation* I saw an
instance, which puts the possibility of the fact
beyond all room for doubt. About the year
1760, two men were digging in the salt marsh
at Cambridsre, ia Massachusetts : On the bank
of Charles' river about two feet below the sur-
face of the ground, they dug up a swallow,
wholly surrounded ai^d covered with mud.
The swallow was in a torpid state, but being-
held in their hands, it re\*ivcd in about half an
hour. The place where this swallow was dug
up, \vas every day covered with the salt water ;
which at every high tide, was four or five feet
deep. The time when this swallow was found,
v/as the latter part of the month of February :
but the men assured me, they had ne\*er found
any other swallows in such a situation. The
species called the house or chimney sw^llovr,
has been found during the winter, in hollow
trees. At Middlebury in this state, there was
a large hollow elm, called by the people in the
vicinity the swallow tree. From a man ^vho,

HISTORY OF VERMONT. i41

for several years, lived within twenty rods of
it, I procured this information : He always
thought the swallows tarried in the tree through
the winter, and avoided cutting it down, on that
account. About the first of May, the swallows
came out of it, in large numbers, about the
middle of the day ; and soon returned. As the
weather grew warmer, they came out in the
morning with a loud noise, or roar, and were
soon dispersed : About half an hour before sun
down, they returned in millions, circulating two
or three times round the tree, and then descen-
ding like a stream, into a hole about sixty feet
from the ground. It was customary for persons
in the vicinity, to visit this tree, to observe the
motions of these birds : And when any persons
disturbed their operations, by striking violent-
ly against the tree, with their axes, the swallows
would rush out in millions, and with a great
noise. In November, 1791, the top of this tree,
was blown down, twenty feet below where
the swallows entered. There has been no
appearance of the swallows since. Upon
cutting down the remainder, an immense quan-
tity of excrements, quills and feathers were
found ; but no appearance or relicks of any
nests.

Another of these swallow trees, was at JBrid^
port. The man who lived nearest to it, gave
this account : The swallows were first obser-
ved to come out of the tree, in the spring ; a-
bout the time, that the leaves first began to ap-
pear on the trees. From that season, they
came out in the morning, about half an hour af-

VOL. I. S

142 NATURAL AND CIVIL

ter sunrise : They rushed oiit like a stream, as^
big as the hole in the tree would admit, and as-
cended in a perpendicular line, until they were
above the height of the adjacent trees ; then as-
sumed a circular motion, performing their rev-
olutions two or three times, but always in a lar-
ger circle, and then dispersed in every direc-
tion. A little before sundown, they returned
in immense numbers, forming several circular
motions, and then descended like a stream iu"
to the hole, from whence thev came out in the
morning. About the middle of September,
they were seen entering the tree, for the last
time. These birds v/ere ail of the species
called the house or chimney swallow. The
tree was a large hollow elm, the hole at which
fh^y entered was about forty feet above the
ground, and about nine inches diameter. The
swallows made their fu'st appearance in the
spring, and their last appearance in the fall, in
the vicinity of this tree ; and the neighboring
inhabitants had no doubt, but that the swallow's
continued in it during the winter. A few years
ago, a hole "was cut at the bottom of the
tree : From that time,- the swallows have been
gradually forsaking the tree, and have now al-
most deserted it. The followine; account from
JVathan Rumscij, Esq. of Hubbardton is more
circumstantial and conclusive. " Sometime in
the month of March, A. D. 1786, when the
snow was deep on the ground, I was making
sugar in the town of Hubbardton^ \^4th the as-
sistane^e of some boys. The boys info]'med me
that. they had discovered a large number of
lairds flying out from ;i tt;ee. I went myself to*

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 143

tlie tree, and found that the birds were svv-allo^v^
of the chimney kind. The tree was an ehn of
a large size, and hollow fifty or sixty feet from
the ground. Remaming for several days in the
vicinity I observed the swallows in the fore part
of the day going out, and in the latter part of
the day going in at the same place. I chop-
ped a hole in the tre§ from whence I could sec
tlirough it to the place where they went out,
and found that they extended from fifty or sixty-
feet in height near down to the ground ; and
appeared to be sticking to the tree as thick as
they could be placed, and that the sides of the
cavity Avere every where lined with them ; a
considerable part of them seemed to lie in a
torpid state."

From these accounts I am led to believe that
the house swallow, in this part of America,
generally resides during the winter, in the hollow
of trees ; and that the ground swallows, find
security in the mud, at the bottom of lakes,
rivers, and ponds.

Of the SjNGiNG Birds, the follov/ing are
the most distinguished, either by the variety gf
their notes, or by the melody of their so\uid :
The Robin. Turdus Mtgratorious.
Skylark. Alauda Alpestris.
Thrush. Turdus Riifriis.
Thrasher, or Mockbird. Turdus Pohjglottos^,
Boblincoln. Emberiza Oryzivora^
Yellowbird. Frln^illa Aiirea.
Bluebird. MotacUla Coerulia,
Wren. MotacUla Regulus.
Red winged Blackbird. Tutxius Niger Alk Sa^
perne liubsntlbus.

144 NATURAL AND CIVIL

Catbird. Muscicapa Vertice N'lgro.
Golden Robin, or Goldfinch. Oriolus Aureus^
Springbird. Fr'mgilla^
Han8:bird. Oriolus Icterus,

The only natm-al music, is that of birds.
In the uncultivated state, and parts of the coun-
try, this delightful sound is not to be heard.
Either disgusted v/ith so gloomy a scene, or
disliking the focd in the uncultivated lands, the
musical birds do not deign to dwell in such pla-
ces ; or to put forth their melody to the
rocks, and to the trees. But no sooner has
-man discharged his duty, cut doAvn the
trees, and opened the :&elds to the enli^'ening
influence of the air and the sun, than the birds
of harmony repair to the spot, and give it new-
charms by the animating accents of their music.
Frombreakofdaytillabout nine o'clock, the lovely
harmony is heard from every quarter. About
that time of day, the music ceases. The musi-
cians retire to other employments ; and there is
no further conceit, until next morning. This
is one of the most delightful scenes, which nature
affords : But like most of our delicate jDleasurcs,
it is not to be enjoyed, but in the cultivated
state.

A great variety of birds generally resort to
the ponds, rivers, and lakes ; which on that ac-
count, arc commonly distinguished by the name
of Water Fowl. Among these aquatic birds^
the most common are

The Goose, three species. Aiiser Canademh^
Duck, eight or ten. Anas
Teal, two. Anas.
Heron, two. Ardea*

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 145

Gull, two. Larus.
Shelldrake, three. Mergus.
Crane. Ardea Ca7iade7ms.
Stork. Ardea Ciconia.
Loon. Colymbus Immen^.
Waterhen. Alca Artica'-'^

There are many other birds, which do not
fall under either of the above descriptions. Of
this kind, the following are the most common
and numerous.

The Eagle, two species. Falco.
Hawk, four. Falco »
Owl, three. Strix.
Woodpecker, seven or eight. Piciis.
Kingbird. Lanius Tyrannus.
Crow Blackbird. Gracula Qiiiscula„
Cuckow. Cucidus Americanus,
Kingfisher. Alcedo Alcyon.
Woodcock. Scolopax Rustica,
Woodsnips. Scolopax Fedoa.
Quail. Perdix Minor.

Curlew, two. Scolopax' ■,

Plover, four. Charadr'ms.
Wild Turkey. Maleagris Galloparuo.
Turtle Dove. Columba Carolmcfisis.
Whip poor Will. Caprimulgus Europ<siis, B^
Nighthawk. Caprimulgus Ame?-ica?ius,
Hedgebird. Miiscicapa Canadensis,
Crossbill. Loxia Curvirostra.
Hummingbird. Trochilus Coluhris,

In addition to these, there is a mamillary bi-
ped, the Bat fvespertilio mnrinus :J And a great
variety and number of small birds, which have
never been enumerated, described, or classed.
We meet with them every day in the fields, but

145 NATURAL AND CIVIL

they are not distinguished by any proper names.
It is worthy of remark that in the birds of
America, nature proceeds fi-om her most minute
and curious, to the most subHme and magnifi-
cent productions. The Hummingbird is the
least of all birds. The. Condor; a bird of South
America, in bulk, strength, and courage, is the
greatest. Both of these are peculiar to Ameri-
ca. The gradation from the least to the great-
est, through all the intermediate steps and de-
grees, is nicely and beautifully filled up with an
infinite variety of others.

FISHES.

Of the gi^eat variety of fish, which nature
has produced in the waters of America, but a
small part are found in the internal parts of the
continent. The largest collection of waters
which we have in Vermont, are the lakes Cham-
plain, Memphremxagog, Connecticut river,
with the ponds and streams connected with
them. In these waters we have
The Sturgeon. Acipenser Stiirio,
Salmon. Salmo.
Salmon trout. Salmo Salar.
Bass. Pei'ca Ocelata.
■Pickerel, or Pike. Esax Lucius,
Shad. Chip c a Alosa,
Alewife. Clupea.
Eel. Murcena Angu'illa.
Trout. Tracta.
Red Perch. Ferca FluviafaUs.
White Perch. Ferca Lucioperca.
JPout. Silurus Feiis.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 147

Shiner. Perca A^ohUis.

Chub. Perca Philadeiphica»

Bream. Perca Chnjsoptera,

Bret. Cliipea Minima,

Menow.

Sucker.

Dace.

Migration is not peculiar to the birds 1
Several kinds of fishes, have as regular periods
of approach, and departure, as the birds of pas-
sage. This is the case with the salmon. In
the spring, about the 25th of April, these fish
begin to pass up Connecticut river, and proceed
to the highest branches. About the same time,
or a little later, they arc found in Lake Cham^
plain, and the large streams which fall into it.
"So strong is this instinct of migration in the
salmon, that in passing up the rivers, they force
their passage over cataracts of several feet in
height, and in opposition to the most rapid, cur-
rents. They are sometimes seen to make six
or seven attempts, before they can succeed to
ascend the falls. When they are thus going up
in the spring, they are round and fat, of an ex-
cellent taste, and fla\'our. .: From the fu'st week
in May, to the Secofid week in June, they are
taken in great numbers. When tliey arrive at
the upper pai'ts of the rivers, they deposit their
spawn, and remain there during the summer
season ;' but become very lean, and flaccid.
Towards th^ latter end of September, they re-
turn to the ocean ; but so much emaciated, that
they are not taken, or used for food. Some of
these salmon in the spring, v/ill weigh thirty
five or forty pounds. They niigrate only to

148 NATURAL AND CIVIL

cold waters. None of them are ever found to
the south, or west, of Connecticut river. Those
that go further to the northward, and pass up
the n\-er St. Lavvrence, are generally more large
and rich, than those which come from the south-
ward.

The Salmon Trout^ in its form, dimensions,
.and appearance, very much resembles the sal-
mon ,' but the meat is of a finer grain, and of a
more delicate taste, and flavour. This trout is
found in Lake Champlain, and in the rivers and
ponds, which are connected \\\\h it. These
iish are taken with the hook and line, like the
cod and haddock. Trouts from seven to ten
pounds are common. In a pond at Leicester
in this state, some have been taken which
weighed twenty five pounds : Others much
larger have been seen leaping 6ut of the water,
which the fisherman supposed vvouid weigh
from thirty five to forty pounds.

The Fike or Pickerel abounds much in
Lake Champlain. It is there called by the
name of Muschilongoe, and grows to a great
size. They are easily taken with a spear, and
some of them have weighed forty pounds, and
were six feet in length.

Of the small fish, which reside in the brooks
and small streams, the most numerous and use-
ful, are the trout, perch, and sucker. The
trout, in its colour, form, and taste, resembles
the saimon trout, but is of .much smaller dimen-
sions. The largest of them, will not weigh
more than two pounds and an half, or three
pounds. This fish is found in all the streams,
which have their orisriu in the mountains ; and

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 149

generally very near their sources, in the high
lands. The perch and the sucker are also very
numerous, and useful, and of nearly the same
dimensions. The most uncommon instance,
which I have ever seen, of the multiplying pow-
er of nature, was in the increase of these fish.
At Tinmouth, is a brook about twenty or thir-
ty feet wide, and two or three deep ; in which
the trout and sucker were to be found of the
common size, and number. ,A dam was built
across this stream, for the purpose of supplying
water for a sawmill. This dam formed a pond,
vdiich covered by estimation, about a thousand
acres, where the trees were thick, and the soil
had never been cultivated. In two or three
years, the fish were multiplied to an incredible
number. They were become so numerous,
that at the upper end of the pond, where the
brook fell into it, in the spring the fish are seen
running one over another ; embarrassed with
their own numbers, and unable to escape from
any attempt that is made to take them. -They
are taken by the hands, at pleasure ; and the
swine catch them without difficulty. With a
net, the fishermen often take a bushel at a
draught, and repeat their labour with the same
success. Carts are loaded with them, in as short
a time, as the people could gather them up,
when thrown upon the banks ; and it is cus-
tomary to sell them in the fishing season, for a
shilling by the bushel. While they have thus
increased in numbers, tliey are become more
than double to their former size. This extreme
increase does not seem to be derived from any
other cause, than that of collecting the waters

VOL, I. T

150 NATURAL AND CIVIL

in sucli a quantity, as to form the pond ; and
thus increase the means of subsistence, by car-
rying the water over a large tract of rich, and
uncultivated land. Events of a similar nature
generally take place, -^vhen an artificial pond is
made in any part of the country, not before cul-
tivated ; and probably from the same cause. ^

In the production of fish, nature seems to
have been extremely prolific, in every part of
America. Their species, their multiplying
power, and the age at which thc}^ become pro-
lific, ai*e beyond our knowledge, and computa-
tion. The brooks, rivers, ponds, and lakes, arc
everywhere, stored with them. The sea coasts
are one continued range of fishing banks, cov-
ered ^vith cod, haddock, and other animals of
tlie ocean. 'YhQ-xvIiale is general!}^ esteemed
the greatest animaj, which nature has produced
in the water : In the seas of America, this is to
be found in its greatest perfection of magnitude
and numbers.

Fossil shells are frequently fouhd at some
distance from the banks of our lakes, rivers,
brooks, and meadows. Some have been found
on the sides, or rather in the gullies of the
mountains. Such productions require a collec-*
tion of water for their formation. Naturalists
have proposed many theories and speculations,

* THE numberof fish in the rivers of South America, is fully equal
to any thing that takes place, in the northern parts of the continent. "In
the Maragnon," says P. Acugna, " Fish arc so plentiful, that, without
any art, they may take them with their hands."

"In the Orinoco," says P. Guniilla, "besides an infinite variety of oth-
er fish, tortoises or turtle abound in such number?, that I cannot find
words to express it. I doubt not but that such as read my account will
accuse me of exaggeration : But I can affirm, that it is as diiiScult ta
count them, as to count the sands on the bank of that river." Hist. del.
Orcnoque, ii. c. as, p. 59. M. dcla Condciminc coniirnis their account*.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 151

to account for the collection of water in such
places, wiiere there are now no appearances of
the kind.

In their descent from the mountains, the
brooks and rivers must every where have form-
ed themselves into lakes, ponds, and small col-
lections of water : And it was not until after
long periods of time, that they could form for
themselves channels of such depth, as to dis-
charge the waters which had been thus collect-
ed. Some of these ponds vrere formed on the
sides of the mountains, and others overflowed
what are now called the meadows ; and many
of their ancient phenomena yet remain. The
waters have long since formed the channels, by
which they are now discharged into the ocean.
In such places, fossil shells are yet found :
they are the productions of former times, when
those places were covered by the waters de-
scending from the mountains ; then collected
into quantities for want of natural channels, now
drawn oif by the depth of the channels which
the waters have formed, and constantly render-
ed more and more deep.

REPTILES AND INSECTS.
THAT class of animals, w^hich are distin-
guished by the names of reptiles, and insects,
are numerous in every part of America. They
abound the most, and are of the largest size, in
the hottest parts of the continent. In a climate
so cold as that of Vermont, they are compara-
tively of but a few species, and small in their
size ; but they exist in great nunjbers. The
following are our

152 NATURAL AND CIVIL

AMPHIBIOUS BEPTILES.

The Turtle, two species. Testiido.
Toad. liana.
Frog, five. Rana.
Lizard. Laccrta punctata-
Swift- Laccrta fiisciata.

There are several accounts in natural histo-
ry, of toads being found in th.c hearts of trees,
and in solid rocks, wholly inclosed, and shut
up from the air, and all appearance of food ;. and
being taken alive, out of such situations. In
the Memoirs of the Academy of Sciences, there
is an account that in the year 1731, a toad
was found in the heart of an old oaJc
near Nantz, without anv visible entrance to its
habitation. From the size of the tree, it was
concluded, that the toad must have been confin-
ed in that situation, at least eighty or an hun-
dred years. ■^^ We have several instances in
Vermont, couallvextraordinarv. At Windsor,
a town joining to Connecticut river, in Septem-
ber, 1790, a living frog was dug up at the depth
of nine feet, from the surface of the earth. Ste-
phen Jacobs, Esq. fromi whom I have this ac-
count, informiS me, that the place where this
frog was found, was about half a mile from the^
river, on the intervale lands, which are annually
overflowed by its waters. At Castleton, in the
year 1779, the inhabitants were engaged in
building a fort, near the centre of the tovvU.
Digging into the earth five or six feet below
the surface, they found many frogs, apparently
inactive, and supposed to be dead. Being ex-

• Smellie's Pliilosophy of Natural History, p. I3a.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 153

posed to the air, animation soon appeared, and
they were found to be alive, and healthy. I
have this acceunt from General Clarke^ and a
Mr. Aloulton, v.ho were present when these
frogs were dug up. Upon viewing the spot, it
did not appear to me, that it had ever been
overflowed with water, but it abounded with
spi'iiigs. A more remarkable instance w^as at
Burlington, upon Onion river. In the year
1788, Samuel Lane^ Esq. wtiS digging a well
near his house. At the depth of twenty five or
thirty feet, from the surface of the earth, the
labourers threw out ^viLh their shovels, some-
thing which they suspected to be groundnuts,
or stones covered with earth. Upon examining
these appearances, they were found to be frogs ;
to wiiich, the eaith everv xvhere adhered. The
examination was then made of the earth, in the
well, where they ^vere digging. A large num-
ber of frogs were found covered w ith the earth,
and so numerous, that several of them were cut
in pieces by the spades of the workmen. Be-
ing exposed to the air, they soon became ac-
tive ; but unable to endure the direct rays of
the sun, the most of them perislied. This ac-
count is from Mr. Lane, and Mr. Lawrence^
one of the v/orkmen, who were both present
when the frogs were dug up. From the depth
of earth, wdth which these irogs were covered,
it cannot be doubted but that they must have
been covered over in the earth, for many ages,
or rather centuries. The timber on the adja-
cent land had grown very large ; a pine tree not
far from the well, was more than tvvclve feet in
circumference. The appearances denote that

154 NATURAL AND CIVL

the place from whence these frogs wert taken,
v.'as once the bottom of a channel or lake, form-
ed by the waters of Onion river. In digging
the same well, at the depth of forty one feet and
an half from the surface, the workmen found
the body of a tree eighteen or twenty inches in
diameter ; partly rotten, but the biggest part
sound. The probability is, that both the tree,
and the frogs were once at the bottom of the
channel of a river, or lake ; that the waters of
Onion river, constantly bringing down large
quantities of earth, gradually raised the bottom :
that by the constant increase of earth and water,
th.Q water was forced over its bounds, and form-
ed for itself a new channel or passage, in its de-
scent into Lake Champlain. How vigorous and
permanent must the principle of life be, in this
animal ! Frogs placed in a situation, in which
they are perpetually supplied with moisture,
and all waste and perspiration from the body
prevented, preserve the powers of life from age
to age ! Centuries may have passed since they
began to live, in such a situation ; and had that
situation continued, nothing appears, but that
they would have lived for many centuries yet
to come !*

SERPENTS.

Tlie Rattle Snake. Crotalus horridus.
Black Snake. Coluber cojistrictor.
Green Snake. Coluber saurita.
Striped Snake. Angiits oryx.
Water Adder. Coluber faseiatus,

* ^Appendix No, III.

History of Vermont, us

Th£se are all the species of this kind of
animals, of which I have any account ; and
these ai'e but seldom to be met with in Ver-
mont.

There is a curious phenomenon respecting
two of these species, which seems to desen^e
further inquiries. The farmers, and other per-^
sons who frequently meet with the rattle snake^
and with the black snake, seem universally to
believe that each of these animals,* have a pow-
er ofjascination ; or as it is commonly expres-
sed, of charming birds, and other small animals.
The account which is generally given, is this :■
the snake lies stretched out his full length, in
some open place ; his head raised eight or ten
inches from the ground ; his colours glow with
their greatest brightness ; his eyes play with an
uncommon brilliancy, and fire ; and are steadi-
ly fixed on the enchanted animal. During this
scene, the bird appears to be in the greatest dis-
tress ; is constantly putting forth the most
mournful accents ; at the same time, is per-
forming a number of irregular circular motions ;
and at the end of each, approaches nearer to the
snake : this scene continues, and is incessantly
repeated, until the bird, without any power to
escape, comes within the reach of the voracious
jaws of the serpent, when it is instantly seized :
But if the snake is attacked, or so disturbed
during the operation, that his attention is turned
another way, the charm is broken ; and the
bird recovering his liberty, immediately flies oiF.
I have never myself seen any thing like this fas-
cinating scene ; but I have had accounts exact-
ly similar from more than a dozen persons,

156 NATURAL AND CIVIL

whose integrity I cannot in the smallest degree
call in question. Tliere is room, however, for
mistakes in such kind of observations ; and in
iriost of them, the snake was disturbed, before
the scene was finished. That there is some-
thing curious in these appearances, cannot be
doubted. But whether these snakes have such
powers, or by what causes such events are pro-
duced, seems to require more accurate obser-
vations, and a more philosophical investigation.*

INSECTS.

The insects are too minute, and numerous,
to be particularly described. The most com-
mon are the beetle, grassho]:)per, cricket, butter-
fly, firefly, blackfly, moth, flea, ant, musqueto,
spider, hornet, wasp, bumble bee, honey bee,
various kinds of bugs, and se'/eral species of
worms. Of these the musqueto is the most
troublesome. The wea\al, the Hessian fly, and
the locust, are not known in this part of the
continent.

Of the bee, there is a species which is gen-
erally called ^vith us, the humble bee. This is
indigenous to the country, and much larger than
the common bee. It forms a nest upon the
ground ; and produces a species of honey, in
transparency, beauty, and sweetness, fully equal
to that of the hone}' bee ; but much less in
quantity. Whether the honey bee is a native
of the country, seems to be viewed by some as
uncertain. I do not find much reason to doubt,
but that it was in America, before the Europe-

* Appendix No. IV

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 157

ans made their first settlements in the country.
From the pictures and tribute rolls of the Mex-
icans, it appears that the honey bee was known,
and that honey was one part of the annual tribute
which was paid to their emperors before the ar-
rival of the Spaniards. Clavigero^ in his history
of Mexico, confirms these accounts ; and men-
tions six kind^ of bees which make honey ;
two of which have stings, and one in all respects
agrees with the honey bee of Europe. A spe-
cies of the honey bee, but without stings, was
found in Chiapa, and Yucatan. The same ac-
cording to Margrave, was found in Brasil. In
1540, among the provisions of the natives of
Florida, " a pot full of honie of bees," was found
by Soto. From these accounts, it is not to be
doubted, but that the honey bee was indigenous,
and had spread over the empire of Mexico.
To the east, it had advanced as far as Florida ;
And to the south, to Yucatan, nd the country
of Brasil. To an immense ntry, then, the
honey bee \. '-idigenous, r ;ommon. There
was no cause u he nature c he animal, or of
the climate, to \ "ivent their spreading to the
northward. The) live in the hollow trees in
the woods of Veni nt, from year to year ; and
are always found ot their full dimensions, vig-
orous, and plentifully supplied with honey ; and
they bear the cold of our winters, much better
in the hollow of a large tree, than in any of our
artificial bee hives. They live and abound in
Russia, where the climate is much more severe,
than it is in this part of America : They would
therefore naturally extend, and spread along the
country, where they could find the means of

VOL, I. U

158 NATURAL AND CIVIL

subsistence, and a climate not unsuited to theif
support. It has always been found far beyond
the English settlements. From our earliest ac-
quaintance with Lake Champlain, it was to be
found in the open lands, along those shores, at
the distance of an hundred miles from the Eng^
lish or French settlements ; and long before
those settlements had begun to attend to the
cultivation of this animal : And from the first
settlement of New England, hunting for their
nests has been a fa\'ourite and profitable am.use-
ment. But as the chief food of the bee is from
the blossoms and flowers of plants, it does not
multiply so fast in the uncultivated parts of the
country, as where the improvements of agricul-
ture and gardening, are constantl}^ producing a
gi-eater variety^ an^ number of vegetables.

To the tribes of reptiles and insects, we have
affixed the idea of something, unpleasant, diminu-
tive, or odious. The designs, the wisdom, and
the power of the Creator, are not to be estima-
ted by such feelings, fears, and prejudices.
The reptile, the insect, the fish, the bird, and
the quadruped, one as much as the other, de-
note wisdom, power, and design, in the author
of nature : And they are alike evidences, and
instances, of the power of animated nature, in
the different parts of the earth. We may there-
fore as justly and clearly deduce the energy and
force of animated nature in any country, from
the number and magnitude of the insects, as
from the species and dimensions of any other
animals. The European philosophers have
dwelt with wonder and astonishment, on the
numbers and size of these animals in America.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 159

The facts are justly stated, in several of their
accounts ; and they ought to have concluded
from them, that the soil was uncommonly rich,
fertile, and luxuriant. Anxious to find marks
of degradation in America, they have almost
universally advanced a contrary conclusion :
that this prolific power of nature, denoted an
uncommon corruption, and degradation of cli-
mate. No conclusion was ever further from,
the truth, or more remote from probability. It
is only a rich soil, and a temperate climate,
which can produce what they call a rank vegeta-
tion, or numerous reptiles and insects, of the
largest size.

From this imperfect view of our quadrupeds,
birds, fishes, and insects, instead of finding na-
ture but weak and feeble in America, as M. de
Bufibn has supposed ;* her animals appear to
be marked with an energy, and a magnitude,
superior to what is found in Europe ; and
equalled only, by the magnificent and vigorous
productions of Asia,

• " La nature vivante est beaucoup moins agitsantc bcaUcoup
ir,ojn» forte." Hist, Nat. xviii. laa. c<lit. Paris, J764.

160 NATURAL AND CIVIL

CHAPTER VII.

Original Inhabitants. The Employments,
Civil Government^ System of IVar^ Education,
Manners^ and Custoins of the Indians ; the
Advantages, and Disadvantages of the Savage
State.

IN the formation of the mountains, riv-
ers, vegetables, and animals, the powers of na-
ture appear to rise in a steady and beautiful
progress. This progress seems to be comple-
ted in the production of a rational, moral, and
accountable animal. This animal is Ma n :
And he evidently appears in every part of the
globe, to be at the head of all the productions of
nature : But the men of different countries and
nations, appear to be very different from one
another.

The original inhabitants of this country were
ihe Indians : These w^re the only species or
kind of men, that had spread over America. It
.vili be more difficult to give a just account of
the man of America, than to describe its veget-
ables, and animals. The latter are subject to
stated, and invariable laws ; they pass through
but few changes and variations, and are always
to be found in that state, in which nature placed
them. Man is subject to a great variety of al-
teration, and improvement. In his rudest and
most simple state, he appears but little superior
to the brute ; in his highest improvement and
polish of manners, he appears at an infinite re-
KiQve from the bare animal j and in all the

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 161

stages of his progress from the one state to the
other, he passes through an endless variety of
situations and circumstances, which are con-
stantly giving a new appearance to his capacity,
powers, passions, manners, and pursuits. The
natural histoiy of man is therefore the most dif-
ficult, but it is also the most useful and impor-
tant subject we can contemplate. In examin-
ing the history of the Indian of America, we
shall find m.an in the most simple, rude, and
unimproved state, in which he has ever been
placed, or view^ed.*

Appearance and Countenan-«ce. The
appearance of the Indians was different from any,
under ^vhich man had ever been viewed before.
The colour of their skin is of a reddish brown,
nearly resembling the colour of copper, but
rather darker. Their faces are broad, the nose
appears flattish, their eyes black, small, and ve-
ry active. The hair of their heads is always
black, coarse, long, and perfectly straight ; and
they generally appear without any beard. The
men are taller than the Europeans, but rarely
corpulent ; and their bodies appear to be firm,
strong, and well proportioned. Their features
are regular and well adjusted, but their coun-
tenance discovers something wild, fierce, and
sullen. None of them are seen crooked, mu-
tilated, or deformed ; defective in any of their
senses, or deficient in any of their bodily organs ;
but straight, well built, and robust. In the ap-

♦ THE following account relates chiefly to the Indians in the nor-
thern parts of America. I have received much assistance from the wri-
tings of Dr. Robertson, and other authors. But the authoiities on which
the accounts are founded, arc chiefly the relations of those persons who

have lived among tbe Indians, and been intimately aciuainteU with them.

162 NATURAL AND CIVIL

pearance, aspect, and countenance of the Indi-
ans, there is an uncommon uniformity, and re-
semblance. It is the same in all climates, and
in all the tribes of America. It does not vary
with heat, cold, situation, employment, or other
Gircumstances ; but the Indian countenance has
tile same combination of features, and peculiari-
ty of aspect, in every part of America.

Employment, and Method of Pro-
curing Subsistence. The food proper for
man, is to be found in every part of the earth.
But the means and the method of procuring it,
are dift'erent among different nations, and in dif-
ferent stages of society. The savages of North
America had discovered the properties and ef-
fects of those seeds, berries, and roots, which
the earth spontaneously produces ; and one
part of their food was derived from this source.
Jishing was another method which they used
to procure subsistence. The great plenty and
variety of lish, with which the rivers of Ameri-
ca abounded, rendered this kind of provision
easy to be procured, and of great use. The
Indian had acquired much skill and address, in
his method of catching the fish ; and he was
accustomed to dry, and smoke them, in order
to preserve them. The falls of rivers were the
places, to which they most resorted for this
puq^ose : And most of these falls were the pla-
ces, where some of their tribes or small compa-
nies resided : And they were generally distin-
guished by some particular Indian name. A
more general and effectual method of support,
was hunting. The fruits which the earth spon-
taneously produced, were but few, and of short

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 163

continuance. A few tribes only could be ac-
commodated, by the vicinity and convenience
of a river : But game was every where to be
found. The bear, tlie deer, the beaver, the fox,
and other animals, were in great numbers, and
in evcrv part of the northern continent. From
these, the Indian derived his most sure, and
plentiful support. But this method of procur-
ing food, required great eftbrts of invention, and
activity. The strength, the fierceness, and the
swiftness of the wild animals, the feebleness- of
the weapons, the bow, arrow, and club, with
which the savage attacked them, joined to make
the business of the hunter laborious and diffi-
cult ; and called forth all the active powers of
the savage. And here^ he appeared to the
greatest advantage ; fertile in invention, saga-
cious in distinguishing and observing, nice and
accurate in tracing the animal ; indefatigable,
and persevering in the pursuit. An employ-
ment which thus gave exertion to all the inven-
tion, courage, force, and vigor of the man, nat-
urally became the most honourable employment ;
And the most dexterous hunter became the
anost distinguished savage of the tribe. To
these methods of pixicuring food, were added
some feeble attempts in agriculture. Indian
corn, beans, pompions, and squashes, were the
only plants they cultivated. The culture of
these was wholly in the hands of the women.
Without the uae and knowledge of any of the
domestic animals, altogether destitute of tlie
proper instruments of husbandry, their efforts
were weak and languid ; and the supplies they
derived this way, were but small.

164 NATURAL AND CIVIL

These were all the methods of procuring
food, with which the Indians were acquainted.
They afforded them but a scanty and precarious
support. When the game was plenty, and the
hunter successful, they had an abundance of
food. When the season of the year was unfa-
vourable, and their success but small, they
were reduced to scarcity and want. Their suf-
ferings this way, were sometimes extremely se-
vere. And there was no year, in which they
were not subject to these extremes, of great
plenty, and severe famine.

The appetite of the Indian conformed to this
state of things. In the seasons of plent}^, the
savage indulged himself to great excess : In the
time of famine, the Indian bore his hungei- with
astonishing patience, and firmness. So accus-
tomed was he to this irregular method of living,
that excess and famine were equally familiar to
him ; and his constitution and health remained
firm and vigorous, under the extremes of both.

From this situation and employment of the
Indian, all the regulations^ customs, advantages,
and disadvantages of the savage state, were de-
rived.

Society. When any considerable number
of the human race subsist near each other, they
will always combine in some form of society.
Mutual wants, dangers, dependencies, interests,
and benefits, operating v/ith the appetite man
has for society, will not fail to produce this ef-
fect. The situation and employment of the In-
dians, determined what the nature and extent
of this society inust be, among them. The
chief source of subsistence among them, was

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 165

hunting. On this account, a large territory be-
came necessary for the support of a small num-
ber of people. Like the game on Avhich they
subsist, they must be dispersed over a large
tract of country, or they cannot procure food.
In this stage of society, the extent of it is de-
rived-from its situation. Its territory must be
, large, the number of people will be small, and
all hostile tribes must be kept at such a distance,
as not to encroach upon the territory or the
game. This was the state, in which the sava-
ges >vere found. Divided into a number of
tribes, small in the number of people, large in
the extent of territory, and generally unfriendly
and hostile to each other.

Nature of their Civil Government.
From this state of society, arose a species and
form of government peculiar to the Indians.
The design and object of government among the
savages, was not the propert}-, security, or con-
duct of the individual ; but the property and
safety of the tribe. The idea of property is
suggested by nature ; and was clear, distinct,
and just, in the mind of the rudest India^i. The
rfish in the river, and the Sdame in the forest,
were not the product of his care or labour ; ancj
he had no idea that they belonged to him, more
than to any other individual. But vv^hen they
v/ere acquired by his personal exertion, no oth-
er savage doubted but that they v/ere become
his particular and exclusive property. The
river, or the forest, from which they were ta-
ken, were not personal but public property :
they belonged to the tribe. No individual
claimed a right to them, in preference to, or
VOL. r. W

166 NATURAL AND CIVIL

exclusive of others. These were the pror^erfy
of the tribe, belonging equally to ail, end ta
which all had a right to repair in quest oi* sub-
sistence, and hadan equal and common privi'cgc ^
When the Indian buildcd his house, or pLuuci
his corn, no one had a right to mole^.t him ;
the house and the corn becam_e his. When he
relinquished his possession, any other of the •
tribe had a right to take possession, and pursue
the same employment that he had done. The
fruits of their own labour and industry, was al-
ways the property of the individual : The riv-
er, the forest, the hunting ground, the land or
the territory, was the property of the tribe.
The former was of so simple a nature, so well
understood, and so universally agreed to, that
few controversies could ever arise about it ;
common custom and consent was sufficient tcr
adjust and regulate every thing of this nature.
The latter contained all the property, the means
of subsistence, and that on which the Avholc
tribe depended for their existence. This was
the great object and aim of their government ;
to protect and defend that, on which tlie whole
tribe subsisted. In such a state of society, the
injuries that would be done to individuals \\'ould
not be many in their number, or often of such
a kind, as to endanger the existence or sover-
eignty of the tribe. The right of redressing
them, was therefore left in private hands. This
has alwavs been the case, in the infancy of so-
ciety and government. If injuries were done,
if blood was shed, it belonged to the friends and
family of the injured person to seek redress. If
tl«i chiefs interposed, it was only by way of

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 16T

counsel and advice. The friends of the injur-
ed person might accept of their advice, or of
the reparation offered by the aggi^essor, or they
might rtject it : If it was accepted, all was set-
tled in a quiet and fj'iendly manner : If rejected,
nothing remained but to pursue the aggressor
with a revenge and rage, that aimed at nothing
less than destruction and death.

The furrn and manner of the Indian govern-
ment, was the most simple that can be contriv-
ed, or iniagijied. There was no king, nobility,
lords, or liouse of representatives, among them.
The whole tribe assembled together in their
pubic councils. Destitute of writings, records,
and hisiory, to preserve the memory of their
public transactions ; their most aged men be-
eaine the depositories, of what had been gathered
from exjierience, observation, and a knowledge
of their former transactions. It is by them that
the debates and consultations are chiefly carried
on. Their councils are slow, solemn, and de-
liberate. Every circumstance that they can
foresee, is taken into consideration. The prob-
able advantages and disadvantages of every
measure, are examined and weighed. All the
prospects of success and disappointment, are
revolv^ed in their debates ; and nothing is omit-
ted, which occurs to their views or expectations.
The whole business is a scene of consultation,
and advice. And the advice has no other forcQ
or authority, than what is derived from its sup-
posed wisdom, fitness, and propriety.

The strength Tmd power of the government,
is placed wholly in the public sentiment. The
chief has no authority to enforce his counsels^

168 NATURAL AND CIVIL

or compel to his measures. He is fed and
clothed like the rest of the tribe. Kis house
and furniture are the same as those of others.
There is no appearance, or mark of distinction :
No ceremony, or form of induction into office :
No ensigns or tokens of superiority, or powei*.
In every external circumstance, the chiefs are
upon a level Vv'ith the rest of the tribe : And
that only which gives weight and authority to
their advice, is the public opinion of their su-
perior wisdom and experience. Their laws
stand on the same foundation. There was no
written law, record, or rule of conduct. No
public precedent, established courts, forms or
modes of proceeding. The causes and occa-
sions of contention were so fevv' that thev did
not much affect the tribe. And wlien the chiefs
interposed in the concerns of individuals, it was
not to compel, but only to counsel and advise
them. The public opinion pointed out what
was right, fit, and proper to be esteemed laws
and rules of conduct. These rules or laws de-
rived from nature, were seldom wrong, obscure,
or inconsistent ; but gencrall}* plain, clear, and
useful. Their penalties and punishments vvere
derived from tlie same source. Loss of char-
acter, and reputation, disgrace, exclusion from
the tribe, and death, were the punishments to
Tvliich offenders were exposed, according to the
nature und aggravation of their crimes. These
punishments were not described, and assigned
to a particular crime by a written lavv ; but the}--
rested upon the public opinion of the tribe, and
derived great force and power from it. An of-
fender who had been greatly and deeply guilty^

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 169

fled from the tribe, as, the only way to safety,
peace, and rest.

There was a Jitjicss and propriety in this
government, or rather, it was fully adequate to
its end and design, and to the situation and state
of the savage. A modern statesman would
smile--^t this idea of Indian government : And
because he could lind no written constitution,
or bill of rights, no mutual checks, and balan-
ces, accountability and responsibility, pronounce
it weak, foolish, and contemptible. But it was
evidently derived from the dictates of nature,
and well adapted to the state and situation of
the savage. The idea of property was so plain
and clear, and the objects to which it related
were so few and simple, that there was no need
of a code of laws to describe and define it.
The rights of the individual, his freedom and
liberty, were so strongly felt, and so universally
acknowledged, that no person dared to invade
them. The crimes of the vicious received a
just and a full punishment, in the disgrace, con-
tempt, and danger, they brought upon the guil-
ty. The individual had all the security, in the
public sentiment, custom, and habit, that gov-
ernment can any where afford him. All that
was to be defended was the territory ; the in-
terest, the independence, and sovereignty of the
tribe ; and every part of the government was
adapted and c|.esigned to form, to animate, and
to inflame, a national spirit of vigour and inde-
pendence.

Agreeably to its nature and design, the
tendency and effect of the savage government,
was equality, freedom^ and independence^ among

170 NATURAL AND CIVIL

all the members of the tribe. In respect t©
rights and privileges, the savage knew no supe-
rior. Of abasement, humiliation, dependence,
or servitude, he had no idea. Depending on
Lis own exertions for food and raiment, he had
never looked to another for assistance, promo-
4io?i, or wealth. When the interest of tlie tribe
was in question, or in danger, the v/isdom and
experience of years was consulted, to advise and
determine : And their counsels became matters
of great respect. But constraint, compulsion,
and force, was the object of the highest deteslci-
tion and hoiTor. E'\"ery measure of the gov-
ernment tended to confirm and increase the
spirit of freedom, equality, and independence,
and to render It strong, fierce, and permanent,
tlirou^h the Vvhole tribe.

System of \\''ar amckg the Indians.
The civil regulations of the savages were all
designed to qualify and prepare them for war.
Among the causes that lead to this, an opposi-
tion of interests, was the most common and
powerful. No people ever had more clear, or
more just ideas of their own rights and proper-
ty, than the Indians. They not only understood
their o'w.n personal rights, but they were per-
fectly well acquainted with the rights and pro-
perty, that were vested in the tribe. Each tribe
claimed the soil in their own dom.alns. This
right was viewed as complete, perfect, and ex-
clusive : Such as entitled them to the full and
entire possession ; and to oppose by force and
violence, all encroachments upon the soil, or
game, in any part of their territories. The
bounds of diese territories wxre extensive^ and.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 171

ill defined. Real or supposed encroachments
and injuries, were constantly taking place*
Hence arose innumerable subjects of dispute
and controversy, which easily inflamed the
fierceness of the savage temper, and brought on
mutual injuries, reproaches, hostilities, and war.
In this state, most of the Indian tribes were
found. Interest had become a source of dis-
cord, anions: the nei^'^hbourinsc tribes. From
this cause, arose most of their inveterate and
perpetual wars.

. The manner in which the Indians carry on
their wars, is very different from that of civili-
zed nations. To defend themselves against an.
enemy, they have no otlier fortification but an
irregular kind of fortress, which they call a cas-
tie or fort. It consisted of a square without
bastions, surrounded with pallasadoes. This
was erected where the most considerable num-
ber of the tribe resided, and was designed as an
asylum for their old men, their women, and
children, while the rest of the tribe were gone
out to war. The weapons of the Indian were a
club made of hard wood, a bow and arrow.
Thus armed, the Indian takes with him a small
bag of corn, and is completely equipped for a
campaign. When he takes the field, it is with
such a number of warriors as the tribe can sup-
ply. During their march, they are dispersed
in straggling companies, that they may better
supply themselves b}- hunting. When they
approach near to the enemies' frontiers, their
troops are more collected : All is then caution,
stratagem, secrecy, and ambuscade. Their
c-mployment as hunters has taught them great

172 NATURAL AND CIVIL

address and vigilance, in following and sui'pri-
sing the game. Their mode of war is the
same, as that of hunting. With great ingenui-
ty, they will find and follow the track of their
enemies : With a surprising patience and per-
severance, they "will wait for the moment, when
they find him the least able to defend himself.
And when they can find an enemy unprepared,
they make their attack with great fury, and with
pretty sure success. In their battles they al-
ways endeavour to secure themselves behind
the trees or rocks, and never meet their enemy
in the open field, or upon equal terms, if they
can avoid it. The method of the Europeans,
of deciding a battle in the open field, they re-
gard as extreme folly and want of prudence.
Their established maxims are to obtain a supe-
riority in situation, numbers, concealment, or
some other circumstance before the battle : In
this Vv'-ay, to preserve the lives of their own par-
ty, and destroy their enemies, Avith as little loss
as possible to themselves. A victory obtained
with the loss of m^any of their ovv^n part}', is a
matter of s:rief and di3o:race, rather than of exul-
tation : And it is no honour to fall in the field
^of battle, but viewed rather as an evidence of
want of wisdom, discernment, and circumspec-
tion. When the attack is to be made, nothing
can exceed the courage and im.petuosity of the
savage. The onset befjins with a [general out-
cry, terminating in a universal yell. Of all the
sounds that discord has produced, the Indian
warwhoop is the most awful and horrid. It is
designed and adapted to increase the ardor of
■those who make the attack, and to carry terror

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 173

and horror into the feelings of those, on whom
the attack is made. The Indians immediately
come forwaj-d, and begin the scene of outrage
and death. All is then a scene of fury, impetu-
osity, and vengeance. So great is the rage of
the savage, that he has no regard to discipline,
subordination, and order. Revenge, takes an
entire possession of his soul : Forgetful of all
order, regardless of discipline and danger, he
aims only to butcher and destroy. If the In-
dians remain masters of the field, they always
strip and scalp the dead. Leaving the bodies of
their enemies, naked, unburied, and often man-
gled, they carry oiF the plunder and scalps ; and
make a very swift and sudden retreat. Upon
their approach to their own tribe, a herald is
sent forward to announce the event : the tribe
is collected, and the conquerors make their en-
try with their ensigns of triumph : the scalps
stretched upon a bow, and elevated upon a pole,
are carried before them, as the tokens of their
valour and success, and monuments of the ven*
geance they have inflicted upon the enemies of
their country.

The prisoners which they have taken, make
an important part of their triumph. The sava-
ges are anxious to take as many of these as pos-
sible. During their march, they arc generally
treated with a degree of humanity and kindness ;
but the greatest care is taken to prevent their
escape. When they arrive at the place df their
destination, the old men, women, and children
of the Indian tribe, form themselves into two
lines, through which the prisoners must run the
gantlet to the village. If the prisoner is young,

VOL. I, X

174 NATURAL AND CIVIL

active, and a good runner, he makes lils M'ay
through the Hues without receiving much inju-
ry'. If he is weak, old, and infirm, he receives
much damage by the blows, stripes, and bruises,
he receives. When this scene is finished, the
prisoners are conducted to the village, treated
with apparent good humour, and fed as well as
the Indians' fare admits.

To the village- thus assembled, the head war-
rior of the party relates every particular of the
expedition. When he mentions their losses, a
bitter grief and sorrow appears in the whole as-
sembly. When he pronounces the nam.es of
the dead, their wives, relations, and friends, put
forth the most bitter shrieks, and cries. But
no one asks any question, or interrupts the
speaker with any inquiry. The last ceremony
is to proclaim the victory. Every individual
forgets his own loss and misfortune, and joins
in the triumph of his nation. Their tears cease,
and with one of the most unaccountable transi-
tions in human nature, they pass at once from
the bitterness of sorrow to all the extravagance
of joy. The whole concludes with a savage
feast, songs, and dance.

The fate of the prisoners is next to be deci-
ded- The elders and chiefs assemble and de-
liberate concerning their destiny. The women
and children are disposed of, according to the
pleasure of their captors ; but they are seldom
or never put to torture, or death. Of the nien
some are appointed to supply the places of such
Indians as have fallen in battle. These are de-
livered to their friends and relations, and if
they are received by them, they have no suf-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 175

ferings to fear : they are adopted into the fami-
ly, and succeed to all the privileges of the de-
ceased ; and are esteemed as friends, brothers,
and near relations. But if thev are not received
and admitted into the family, or if they are des-
tined to be put to death, a most distressing and
horrid scene ensues.

A stake is fixed firmly in the ground. At
the distance of eight or ten feet, dry wood,
lenves, and faggots, are placed in a circle round
the stake : And the whole village is collected,
to bear their part in the tragedy, which is to
ensue. The prisoner is led to the stake, and
tied to it by his hands, in such a manner that
he may move freely round it. Fire is set to
tlie vvood, that as it runs round the circle, the
unhappy victim may be forced to run the same
way. As the sufferings of the prisoner begin
to become severe, the acclamations of the spec-
tators begin. The men, women, and children,
strive to exceed each other, in finding out new
and keener methods of torment. Some apply
red hot irons, others stab and cut with their
knives, others mangle and tear off the flesh, oth-
ers again bite off the nails and joints, or twist
and tear the sinews. Every species and degree
of cruelty, that savage rancour and revenge can
invent and apply, is tried upon the wretched
sufferer. But great care is taken that the vital
parts may not be so injured, as to bring the
torments of the victim to a speedy end. In this
horrid situation, the sufferer is undaunted and
intrepid. He reviles and insults his tormentors.
He accuses them of cowardice, meanness, and
We!.nt of spirit ; as ignorant, unskilful, and des-

176 NATURAL AND CIVIL

titute of ing-enuity and invention in the art of
tormenting. Not a groan, a sigh, a tear, or a
sorrowful look, is sufiered to escape him. To
insult his tormentors, to display undaunted and
unalterable fortitude in this dreadful situation is
the mobt noble of all the triumphs of the war-
rior. With an unaltered countenance, and with
the decisive tone of dignity and superior im-
portance, the hero proceeds with great calm-
ness to sing the song of his death — '-^ Intrepid
and brave, I feci no pain, and I fear no torture.
I have slain, I have conquered, 1 have burnt
mine enemies ; and my countfymen will avenge
my blood. Ye are a nation of dogs, of cow-
ards, and women. Ye know not how to con-
quer, to suffer, or to torture. Prolong and in-
crease my torments, that ye may learn from my
example how to suffer and behave like men !^'
With such unconquerable magnanimity and
fortitude^, the sufferer perseveres under every
method of torment and torture. W^earicd with
cruelty, and tired with tormenting a man whose
fortitude they cannot move, one of the chiefs in
a rage concludes the scene, by knocking the
prisoner on the head, or stabbing him to the
•^ heart.

These scenes however w'ere not common.
They seem to have been kind of honours, re-
served for the warriors ; and Avere the trials of
their courage and fortitude. And nothing was
esteemed more base and ignominious, than to
shrink from them, or to shew any sense of fear
or pain under them.

When the prisoners were adopted into the
tribe of the conquerors, nothing could exceed

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 177

the kindness and affection, with which they -were
treated. All distinction of tribes was forgotten ;
they held the same rank as the. deceased person,
whose place they filled ; and were treated with
all the tenderness due to the husband, the
brother, the child, or friend. And it was gen-
erally the case, that the savages avoided abuse
and cruelty to the women and children, that fell
into their hands.

The Indian method of carrying on a war,
was so contrary to the maxims and customs of
all civilized nations, that some of the European
writers, judging from their own customs, have
concluded it v/as founded on cowardice, and a-
rose from an ignoble and timid spirit, afraid to
meet its opposers on equal ground, and depend-
ing wholly on craft, and not at all on courage
and firmness of mind. No conclusion was ev-
er further 'from the truth. When placed in a
critical and dangerous situation, no people ever
discovered more valour, firmness, and intrepidi-
ty. When subdued, an Indian was never
known to ask for his life. W'^hen compelled to
suffer, the Indian bore it with a steadiness, a
fortitude, and a magnanimity, unknown to all
other nations ; and of which, there are no ex-
amples in the history of war. His method of
war did not arise from a sense and fear of dan-
ger ; he v.'as well acquainted, and always in the
midst of this ; but it arose from his situation
and employment, and was perfectly well adapted
to it. From his situation and employment as an
hunter, he acquired the art of ambuscade and
surprise ; and the method v/ith which he could
best succeed in taking his game, he found to be

178 NATURAL AND CIVIL

the most successful to ensnare and overcome
his enemy. The situation and state of the
country, overspread with thick forests, lead to
the same method. The situation of the tribe,
scattered and dispersed in the woods, suggested
iiiG same idea. The method of fighting could
not be in the open fields, but among the trees.
And he wisely placed the point of honour, in
the public good ; where the prospect and the
pr(jbability of his success lay. Had the honour
of the Indian warrior been placed, in courting
fame and victory in the open field, the whole
tribe would have been destroyed by the effusion
of blood that must have succeeded. His max-
ims therefore were better r' ■ -en, and thev were
such as every circumstance in his situation and
epiployment naturally led him to : Not in an
useless ostentation of daring courage and bold-
ness, but in the public utility and advantage.
So far as an enterprize depended on secrecy,
subtlety, surprize, and impetuosity, the Indian
method of war seems to have been fully equal
to the European. The Spaniards, the French,
the English, and the States of America, have
had many and painful proofs of their address
and prowess in this method. But when a fort
was erected, or a small fortification to be carri-
ed, the Indian method of war whollv failed.
Neither their arms, their arts, or their customs,
were of any avail here. Wholly unacquainted
with the art of fortification, they could neither
erect, or take a fort of any strength. Wtien
the Europeans had once got possession of any
part of their country, and erected a small forti-
fication in their tcmtories, they held it by a

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 17^

sure possession. The savages were wholly un-
able to dispossess them by their method of war,
and nothing was left for them but to retreat
further into the forests. In this way the Eng-
lish» and French were making constant advan-
ces into their country ; and their art of war af-
forded them no sufficient means, cither to pre-
vent or to redress it. But when the Europeans
followed them into the woods, \%'here their
sti'ength and art might be employed to advan-
tage, the Indians generall}- surprised and defeat-
ed their armies, with great haAoc and slaughter.
Education. The subsistence and safety
of the tribe depended so much upon the hunter,
and warrior, that these became of course the
most necessary, useful, and honourable profes-
sions. When in pursuit of food, the young
men put themselves under the direction of the
most noted and successful hunter. Going forth
to war, they followed the most renoimed and
successful warrior. Eminence in these profes-
sions was the surest way to subsistence, to dis-
tinction, to honour, and renown. This was the
basis, and formed the whole business of educa-
tion, among the savages. To train up the
youth to address and dexterity in hunting ; to
make him patient, firm, persevering, in hardship
and suffering ; inveterate, fierce, and intrepid
in destroying his enemies ; was the chief aim
and design of the parent. Every thing that had
no connexion with this, was neglected and des-
pised. The arts of acquiring knowledge, gov-
erning the passions, refining the manners, and
cultivating improvements, were unknown and
undesired by the >avage. He never corrected

180 NATURAL AND CIVflL

or restrained his child, taught him to moderate
his appetites and passions, to submit to parent--
al, or any other authority : On the contrary he
was trained up to take care of himself, to grati-
fy every inclination and appetite, and to look
for food and honour in his own exertions, inde-
pendence, and superiority. The parent wished
and aimed to form his son to hardship and dan-
ger, to bear fatigue, famine, and torture, to en-
snare and take the game, and to carry destruc-
tion and vengeance upon his enemies. To this
plan of education, the whole aim and conduct,
the instruction, the manners, and the example
of the parent, was directed : the only aim and
design, was to make the youth an able and ac-
complished hunter, and warrior. Neither the
views of the parent, or the wishes and aims of
the child, ever rose any higher, or extended any
further than this.

Next to the civil and military regulations,
theCusTOMs andMANNERs of the Indians claim
our attention. The customs and manners of a
nation, always constitute a distinguishing part
of the national character ; and as they vary with
the progress of society, they serve to ascertain,
and mark the different stages of it. ~ In several
respects, the manners and customs of the In-
dians were different from those of other people,
and are marked with a singularity peculiar to
the savasre state.

Gravity of Appearance, A gravity of
appearance and countenance always engages our
attention, v/hen we are in the company of the
Indians. Placed in a situation of constant dif-

situ

ficulty and danger, dej^(nding altogether upon

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 181

himself, and having ever before him pursuits^
which to him are of the highest importance, the
savage becomes extremely grave and serious-
Every thing in his appearance and behaviour, is
marked with this gravity of aspect. His be-
haviour to those around him, is decent and
modest. His words are few and significant, and
generally upon some matter of business ; scarce-
ly ever for merriment or divcrsiouo So great is
their habit of gravity, seriousness, and silence j
that it rather bears the appearance of melancholy
and sadness.

Treatment of Women. A promiscuous
intercourse between the sexes, scarcely ever
took place among the human race. The rela-
tion of husband and wife, has been every where
understood, adopted, and acknowledged ; and
this was universally the case among all the
tribes of the American Indians. Where the
difficulty of procuring subsistence was not easi-
ly to be removed, the man had generally but
one v/ife* Where the means of subsistence
were in great plenty, and easily to be attained^
the savage had often a plurality of wives. But
in general, the Indian family consisted of one
man and woman, and their children. This un-
ion generally subsisted during the lives of the
parties ; but if it became a matter of choice to
separate, the marriage union was dissoived, and
no cause or ceremony was rtccessary, but choice
and consent. It is5 not until the refinements o£
society have taken place, that women acquire
the rank, consequence, and importance, to
which they are so justly entitled. To despise,
to degrade, and to abuse them, has been the

TOL. I. Y

182 NATURAL AND CIVIL

practice of every nation while it remained in the
savage state. Without tenderness, without
delicacy, without refinement, the heart of the
savage does not look for pleasure in the beauty,
chastity, and modesty ; in the tenderness, deli-
cacy, and aifection ; or in the attachment, con-
versation, and refined manners of the female ;
but in the labours and menial services she is
able to perform. In this stage of society, mar-
riage is not a tender attachment, or a union of
refined and delicate afiections between the sex-
es ; but altogether an animal inclination, the
bare instinct of nature. Placing all excellency
in strength and courage, the male views the fe-
male as every way inferior to himself ; not fit-
ted for honourable employments, but destined
to inferior purposes and services. Of conse-
quence, the condition of women in the savage
state becomes degraded, mortifying, and sub-
ject to servitude. The savage assigns to his
wife the care of the children, the business of
labouring in the field, and all the services of
domestic care and difficulty. Among the In-
dians, this degradation of the female was carri-
ed to its greatest extreme. Every thing most
Valuable in food, dress, and ornament, was re-
served for the man : the most labcrious, fatigu-
ing, and disagreeable services, were assigned to
the women. Doomed to incessant toil and
slavery, the women perform their perpetual
tasks without pity, without compassion, without
praise,* and without the gratitude of their hus-
bands. To this degraded, unhappy state^
w^re the womsa reduced among all the Indiau
tribes =

HISTORY or VERMONT. 185

Dress. The same pursuit that supplied thff
Indian with food, provided also bis clothing.
This was made of the skins and furs of the ani-
mals they took in hunting : these served tlie
purposes of covering, and modesty, none of the
northern Indians ever appearing naked. In
those nations where opulence and luxury pre-
vail, dress becomes a complicated, a profitable,
and a curious art : And beauty acquires new
force and power, from ornament and fashion.
Hence it becomes a most lucrative business in
polished societies, to invent and supply the
modes, fashions, materials, and ornaments for
dress. The savage was not without his taste
for ornament, and fashion. His hair was dres-
sed in many, and in very singular forms. His
nose and ears had pieces of gold, shells, or
shining stones, affixed to them. His face and
skin were painted, with different colours and
figures. And much time was spent to give his
countenance the aspect he aimed at. The dci-
sign of his dress and ornament was not gallant-
ry to recommend himself to the female, but ra-
ther war ; to appear the object of dignity, ma^
jesty, and fear. And what was extremely sin-
gular, all the finery and decoration of dress, was
reserved for the man. The share that fell to
the v/om.an, was only that which remained, when
her husband was completely decked. When
he was about to join the council of his nation,
"or was going forth to war, he was most of all
solicitous to appear in his richest ornaments,
and finest decorations. A custom prevailed a-
mong the Indians, of rubbing and anointing
their bodies with grease, oilj and different kinds

184 NATURAL AND CiViL

of gums. These were often mixed with differ^
ent colours, and formed a very durable paint,
or kind of varnish. This may properly be esti-
mated as a part of the Indian dress. And it
was well adapted to defend the body, against
tlie extreme moisture and cold of the forest and
lake, to protect them against the numerous
tribes of insects to which they were exposed,
and to check the profuse perspiration to which
they were subject, at different times and places.

Idleness. When engaged in hunting and
war, the savage appears active, enterprising, and
indefatigable. But when these favorite occu-
pations are ended, an universal inactivity, and
indolence, take place. The time of the Indian
is speftt in eating, sleeping, and sitting still.
When he applies to any kind of labour^ it ib
with little activit}', and with a great aversion.
They will spend whole years in making a pipe,
forming a canoe, or building a hut. The la-
bours of agriculture, are wholly assigned to the
women : Inactive and slothful, the man cannot
be roused up to any kind of labour and fatigue.
His time is of no value to him : Every thing
but hunting and war, is esteemed below his
dignity and attention. And of all employments,
the lowest and most base, in his view, is dig-
ging-, toiling, and labouring in the earth. The
most indolent, slothful, and contemptible, • in
civilized nations, have the Scime idea of honor
and industry ; that labour, especially agriculture,
is beneath their dignity and honor.

Dirtiness. Cleanliness seems to be insep-
crably connected with industry, and some de-
gree of refinement. Destitute of both, the say-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 185

ages of North Ainenca were sunk into the lowest
estate of filth and dirtiness. Nothing can ex-
ceed the nastiness that appears in their food, in
their cabins, and in their ganricnts. The ves-
sels in which they cook and eat their victuals,
are never washed. The dirt and grease in their
huts, are never remo\'ed or swept away. Their
garments are never changed or washed, until they
wear to rags, and waste away. No idea of
cleanliness seems to have entered into their
minds. This seems to be one of the customs,
common to all savages : Inactive and lazy, they
are all extremely filthy and dirty.

Gaming, Gaming is an amusem.cnt, *o
which indolence and want of employment natu-
rally lead. Above the occupations of labour,
and without a taste for useful employments,
many in civilized life seek a relief in gaming,
for the pains of indolence ; and for a method,
to move and ao'itate a laneuid mind. Moved
by the samic cause and motive, the savage also
falls to gaming, as the most favorite amuse-
ment ; indolent and lifeless in all the exertions
of labour, he becom.es deeply engaged, impetu-
ous, and noisy in play. Every thing he posses-
ses, is staked at the^e diversions ; and he looses
his peace, his senses, and all that he is worth.
But these amusements do not issue in conten-
tion and quarrels : Though carried on v/ith a
frantic eagerness, they are generally managed,
and terminate in good humor and peace.

SoN"Gs. Averse to all abstruse meditations,
the Indians are much delighted with songs.
To an European ear, their songs do not afford
much entertainment j nor can such discern har-

185 NATURAL AND CIVIL

mony, melody or any variety in their tunfSi
However this may be, the savages are always
delighted with music. Their songs are of a
grave and serious turn. They never relate to the
concerns of gallantry and love, but to their most
serious employrnents. They have songs for war,
songs for victory" and songs for death. Each of
them is designed to excite and call forth the sen-
timents, feelings, and passions, that such occa-
sions require ; andthey have a great influence on
their feelings, and actions. Amidst the severest
sufferings of death,this is the resort of the savage;
and when burning at the stake, the last conso-
latioUjis to sing the song of triumph and death.
Dancing. Dancing has been one of the fa-
vorite amusements of all nations. In civilized
societies this amusement is designed to pro»
mote a refinement of manners ; and serves to
excite the sensibility, and dehcacy, which at-
taches and refines the sexes. Dancing is also
tlie favorite employment of the savage, in every
part of the globe. It calls forth his active pow-
ers, which, when unemployed, languish and de*
cay for want of exercise. And in no employ-
ment, does he become more animated, vigorous,
'and eager. Instead of being an amusem.ent, an
"afirair of gallantr}--, love, or refinement, dancing,
among the savages, is a ceremony of great im*
poitance and seriousness. With this ceremony
war is declared, an embassador is received, and
peace is concluded. It is by a dance, that ev-
eiy im.portant transaction in public or private
life, is celebrated. Their dances are generally
carried on by the men, and it is but seldom
that the women are permitted to join in them.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 187

All the steps, figures, and motions of the dance,
are expressive ; and significant of the business
or transaction, it is designed to denote. If war
is to be proclaimed, the dance is expressive of
the resentment and rage they bear to their ene-
mies, and of the "hostile manner, in which they
mean to treat them. If a party are going forth
against their enemies, the dance of war is to be
performed. In tliis, the transactions of the
whole campaign are to be expressed. The
warriors are represented as departing from their
country, entering that of the enemy, surprising
and conquering their foes, seizing prisoners,
scalping the dead, and returning in triumph to
the applause of their country. The performers
appear to be agitated with all the natural pas-
sions and feelings, that take place in any of
these scenes. The caution, the secrecy, the
fierceness and cruelty of the warriors, is repre-
sented in a natural and animated manner. The
whole is designed to excite those passions and
feelings in the warrior, which it is designed to
represent. And so quick, exact, and dreadful,
is the representation, that the uninformed spec-
tator is struck with horror, and looks to see the
ground covered with mangled limbs, and
slaughtered bodies. If peace is made, this is
also celebrated by a dance. The ambassadors
and the warriors smoke in the same pipe, and
join together in the same dance. The dance is
adapted to signify that the hatchet is buried,
that the blood is all washed away, and that the
ghosts of the slain arc appeased, and at rest ;
and that both nations are now to live, in all the
friendship and familiarity ©f brotlierhoodt-

188 NATURAL AND CIVIL

Thus instead of b^ing- barely an amusement and
diversion, dancing- among the Indians, is a very
in po< tant and sii^nificant ceremony ; desigxiedto
represent some important tranKaction, and to
insiiire those feelings and passions, Avhich it
?^:^ould naturally produce. Is it not remarkable,

: ■ among the savages in the first stage of so-

e ;lancing should be adapted to public and

.oaal purposes ; that all the steps, figures,

'notions of it, should be arts of imitation ;

hat among civilized nations, all the steps

tions should be without design, insignifi-

Caivr, ;,nd withoui; any meaning at all ?

Beard. The customs and methods of dif-^
ferent nations, have been various and different,
respecting their beards. Some have carefully
preserved them as the tokens of manhood, gravi*
ty, and m.jesty. Others have curled, twisted,
and braided them, to give the appearance of
elegance and beauty : Others have entirely cut
them off", as an useless encumbrance ; and to
acquire greater softness, mildness, and amiable-
ncGs of appearance. These different customs
and fashions, do not appeaj- to 'be deiived from
any permanent cause, or instinct four.ded in na-
ture ; but to be matters of fancy, superstition,
convenience, or vanity. In this respect the In-
dians had a custom different from those of other
nations. It is their universal and constant
practice, to pluck them out by the roots ; and
to destroy, as far as possible, the appearance of
any beard at all. Every man has an instrument
miade for this purpose : It consists of a wire<
^ twisted round a stick, in such a manner as to
draw the hair out of the fiesh, and extract the

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 189

root. The Indian carries such an instrument
with him : And it makes a regular and con-
stant part, of what he esteems his dress,
to extract and destroy his beard. So fond arc
they of this custom, that whenever the Indian
can obtain a looking-glass, his first business is
to examine his face, and with this kind of twee-
zer, pluck out all the hairs he can discover.
They generally recommend this custom to
their captives, as what would increase their
beauty, and destroy their hairy appearance,
which the savage greatly dislikes.

Some philosophers have supposed, that the
beardless countenance of the Indian, is derived
not from custom, but from nature : That the
Indian is without any beard, or hair on any part
of his body, except the eyebrows and head:
That this arises from a defect in the powers
and vigour of nature ; and is an evidence of
weakness, impotency, and want of manhood.^
The fact and the conclusion, are both mistakes*
Nature is the same in the Indian, as it is in the
European : And on whatever part of the body
it has assigned hair to the one, ithas given it to the
other. I am assured of this from those who
have slain, stripped, and buried their warriors r
I have the same information from those, who
have been their captives ; and who have seem
all the members of an Indian family, dressed
and undressed, and in all situations. The same
is asserted by those, who have lived among the
civilized tribes, and been called to perform of-
fices of humanity, to the Indians of each sex.

* Buffon, Kaims, Robertson, 3cc-
VOL, I, Z

190 NATURAL AND CIVIL

The beardless couPitenance of the Indian then^
is not to be ranked anion,^ tlie curious and ex-
traordinary phenomena of nature, but is to be
placed among the customs peculiar to the In-
dian tribes.

Drunkenness. Drunkenness is one of
those vices, which prevail among a rude and
unculti>^ated people. The savages of North
America, are universally addicted to it. Before
they were acquainted witli the Europeans, they
had discovered a composition, or liquor, of an
inebriating nature, made out of maize or Indian
corn. But the difficulty of procuring a large
quantity of this liquor, pre^xnted any general
intemperance, or excess.

No sooner ha.d they tasted of the spirituous li-
quors brought by the Europeans, than they
contracted a nexu appetite^ Vvhich they were
v/holly unable to govern. The Europeans found
it the most lucrative branch of the Indian trade,
to gratify this inclination. With an avidity of
desire altoid-ether uncontroulable, the Indians
fell into the snare. The first object of inquiry
with them, was, v/hether the trader had brought
any brandy or rum ; and no considerations
could restrain them in tlie use of it. The old
and the young, the sachem, the warrior, and
the women, whenever they can obtain strong
liquors, indulge themselves w^ithout moderation,
and without decency, until universal drunken-
ness takes place. All the tribes whether placed
in a temperate, or in a severe climate, appear to
be under the dominion, and unable to govern
this appetite. An effect so universal and similar,-
must have as general 5^ universal a cause. The cause

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 191

will be found to have a deep and a strong foun-
dation, in their manner, custom, and habit of
living. Their constant method of living, was
on raw or boiled meat, and fresh water. This
did not satisfy the desires of nature ; and natu-
rally produced an appetite for every thing,
which was astringent, stimulating, and inflammi-
tory. When they met with ardent spirit, they
found that, which is the most highly gratifying
to such an appetite. The hardships and suffer-
ings to which the Indian v/as exposed, their
want of comfortable refreshments and support,
and the extremes of heat, cold, and mois-
ture, to which they Avere subject,, were constant-
ly adding new force, to an appetite already ex-
cessive. Few of the white people, who have
been reduced to such a situation for a few
months, have been able to preserve their tem-
perance. The Indian proved wholly inadequate
to the trial. Unaccustomed to lay any restraint
on his appetites and passions, and unable to
bear but a small quantity of the liquor, to
which he had been unused, he is overcome up-
on the first trial. His appetite, the more infla-
med by irregular enjoyment, becomes more
keen and raging, until extreme excess puts it
out of his power to indulge himself any longer.
Nothing but a total change of the whole method
of his living, will enable him to preserve that
temperance and regularity, which to a person
surrounded with all the comforts of life, is an
easy and a common attainment.

Cruelty. There are no passions in the
human mind,which operate with so much force and
fxe.rcenessj as those of anger and revenge. The

192 NATUR.\L AND CIVIL

customs and maxims of polished societies, with
all the aid of their laws and religion, have not
as yet been able to give a due regulation or
restraint to these passions. In many cases, an
offended individual cannot be made to believe,
but what it is right and best for him, to be the
Judge and the avenger of his own injuries ; and
that it is the mark of meanness, to leave it to
the laws of society, to make a proper retaliation
for the wrongs he has received. Higher at-
tainments must yet be made in the state of so-
ciety, before an adequate restraint and regula-
tion will be found for these passions. In the
breast of a savage, they rage without any con-
troul : Instead of being taught any restraint, the
young savage is taught in early life, to gratify
and indulge them. The whole force of educa-
tion, example, custom, habit and manner of
living, operate with a decisive influence, to give
them new force and vigour. By the govern-
ment of the tribe, the revenge of injuries is
left in the hands of every individual ; iuid to be
patient and moderate, is the highest mark of
'meanness and want of spirit. To give further
force to the spirit of vengeance, all the maxims
and customs of war, have placed the point of
honour, in rendering the spirit of revenge, im-
placable, unabating, and such as never can be
satisfied, subdued or lost. Aided by all these
motives and considerations, anger and revenge,
become fierce,*brutal, horrid, bloody, and impla.
cable passions, in the breast of the savage :
More like the destructive rage of a beast of
prey, than like a passion in the heart of a human
beina-o The effect, is a barbarous and unre*

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 193

lenting cruelty : Far from pitying, sparing, or
forgiving, the savage aims at the ruixi, destruc-
tion, and utter extermination of his enemies.
Hence the method of carrying on his war, was
to destroy men, women, and children . To plun-
der and bm-n their towns, and villages : To
torture and torment their prisonei s : And to
sweep off whole tribes, with an universal and un-
disiingidshed carnage. This seems to have
been the wish and aim of every tribe, when they
engaged in war. A barbarous, unrelenting
cruelty, distinguished^ and marked all their
steps.

The cruelty of the Indian seems to have
arisen from the passions of anger and revenge.
It is not to be denied but that there are other pas-
sions, which have carried civilized nations, to
the same dreadful extremes in cruelty. Ava-
rice led the Spaniards to perpetrate more enor-
mous crimes and cruelty upon the Indians, than
the Indians were ever capable of returning.
The scene of promiscuous calamity, destruction,
murder, and butchery, which the Spaniards car-
ried through all parts of South America, in the
number, design, degree, duration, variety, and
enormity of its cruelties, far exceeded any thing
that was ever perpetrated by the Indians. If
we are to believe the declarations of a celebra-
ted modern Statesman,* the avarice of a com-
pany of merchants, has murdered millions and
millions of mankind, by starving them, to death
in Bengal. The spirit of superstition and big'
Ctrl/, is equally cruel and unreienting. The

« Mr. £urkc.

194 NATURAL AND CIVIL

murders of the inquisition subsisted for centu-
ries : they were sanctioned by law, and are not
yet done away. Imprisonment, confiscation,
and death iji its most awful forms, wxre the
punishments v/hich bigots, whenever they had
power, never failed to inflict with great pleas-
ure, upon those who were wise and virtuous
enough to oppose them. The massacre on St.
Bartholomew's day, in 1572, was one of tlie
most barbarous and horrid of all human trans-
actions. In the midst of the most polite city
in Europe, the king, ^ ptinces, nobility, and
priests, turned monsters, assassins, and butch-
ers ; and murdered thirty thousand of their fel-
low men, on account of their religion. Their
rage was attended with circumstances af inhu-
man cruelty and barbarity, far exceeding the
£erce and bloody passions of the savages of A-
merica. Our own countrvmen ous:ht not to
forget, tliat revenge has also transported them
into a conduct, equally inhuman and barbarous
as that of the Indians. At the conclusion of
the Indian war, in 1G76, the government tried
several of their captives, by the English laws :
Some were condemned, and executed upon the
gallows ; and others were sent to consume their
days, in the slavery of the West India Islands :
A punishment, to them more severe than death.
In, the cruelty and barbarit^y of the Indian,
man appears in a situation but little removed
from the brutal ferocity of the beast of prey.
But when avarice, bigotry, and revenge, pro-
duce the same infernal spirit among civilized
nations, cruelty appears with a more diabolical
aspect ; not like the rage of wild beasts, but

HISTORY OF VEri?,IONT. 155

like the fury and vengeance of a combinatioH
of apostate spirits. The prosjress of knowledge,
humanity, and refinement, will afford the only
effectual remedy for this evil.

.Such were the regulations, customs, and
manners of the Indians, the original men of A-
merica. They have been viewed by philoso-
phers, in the most opposite and contrary lights.
Some have supposed that the Indians were in
the inflmcy of existence, that the whole conti-
ncnt of America was but lately raised out of the
sea, and that her inhabitants were in a state of
degradation, unuorthy to be compared with the
men of the more ancient and improved hemis-
phere.* ^ On the contrary, others have contend-
ed that in the rudest and most simple state,
man attains an independence, a dignity, and a
nobleness of mind, which is never found, but is
always lost, amidst the refinements of polished
societies : that the highest dignity and noble-
ness of man, is derived solely from nature, and
is always debased and corrupted by polish, re-
finement, and the arts, f To view this subject
m Its proper light, it will be necessary to com-
pare the savage with the civilized state, and to
mark the various Advantages and Disadvantages
of it. *

The Savage State favourable to the
Health, Activity, and Vigour of the
Body. Among the advantages that were con-
nected with the savage state, it may justly be
esteemed one, and a matter of much importance,
that It was favourable to the vij^our. activitv,

* Buffon,
X Rou»saa«.

1^6 ^ATunAL ^\ND CIVIL

and health of the body. It is by exertion
and exercise, that the body acquires its
most improved state of activity, firmness,
vigour, and health. Accustomed to range the
forests in quest of game, the Indian acquired an
habit and activity in travelling, that exceeded
that of any other people. In the expedition,
swiftness and perseverance of his course, he
much exceeds the European. No people bear
hardship, suffering, and fatigue so well : The
extremities of heat and cold, of hunger and
thirst, of bad weather, and of bad accommoda-
tions, are perfectly familiar to the Indian : And
he bears them with a much less effect upon his
constitution, than the men who have been used to
better accommodations. Unaccustomed to the
steady and regular employments of agriculture,
his h )dy does not acquire the strength that the
Europeanshave. And whenthe exertion, isanex-
ertion of strength, and steady labour, the white man
is found to be the strongest. Those only of the
Indians, xvho have been educated and trained
up to steady and hard work, are equal to the
white men in bodily strength. In running the
race, and in bearing hardship, the Indian ex-
ceeds ; but in strength of body, and bearing
hard and stead labour, he is generally unequal
to the European.

Li respect to health, the sa\'age state seems
fully equal to the civilized. Used to all the va-
riations of the Vv'eather and climate, he suffered
but little from, such changes. The diseases to
which the Indians were subject, were chiefly
those w^hich arose from exercise, hardships, and
fatigues. Fevers, the asthma, and paralytic

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 197

disorders, made the capital articles in the histo-
ry of the Indian diseases. But that numerous
and fearful train of maladies, which arise from
luxury, sloth, intemperance, and want of exer-
cise, were unnamed, and unknown among the
Indian tribes. In their villaq-es there seemed to
be a greater number of decayed and aged per-
sons, than are generally to be found among an
equal number of white people. l^ut as they
had not the art of numbers and computation,
no exact accounts could be procured of their
age. This article rests therefore rather upon
appearance, and indication derived from decre-
pit and shrivelled bodies, than from any proper
and authentic accounts of the years and lona;evi--
ty to which they attain. All appearances howev-
er seem to indicate, that activity, vigour, health,
and age, were to be found to great advantage
in the savage state.

Favourable to Firmness and Forti-
tude OF Mind. The situation and employ-
ment that promoted the vigour and health of
the body, tended to produce independence,
firmness, and fortitude in the mind. Inured to
suffering, hardship, and danger, the mind of the
savage was formed to an habitual firmness and
courage. His mind became composed and col-
lectr;d in critical and dangerous situations :
And he suffered but little from apprehensions of
fear. The spirit of freedom and independence
was cultivated and confirmed by every circum-
stance attending his education, employment
and reputation. Neither corrected nor checked
in His early years, retarded or stopped in any
pursuit, he knew of no controul or restraint.---

VOL. I. A 2

7

193 NATURAL AND CIVIL

Master of his cvn actions, and never wishing'
to moderate his passions, the spirit of freedom
and independence took tlie entire possession of
his soul. Moved by and perpetually conscious
of this independent spirit, he acted in circum-
stances of distress and danjjer, vvith amazing:
force and mai^nanimit}- of mind. But that
which the savage esteemed his greatest glory
and highest digniij,', was iiis fortitude and bra-
very. To bear hardsliip, to endure sufiering,
to be unmoved in the midst cf torment, and to
rise superior to any thing that could be laid up-
on him y this, was the highest honour, and the
noblest attainment of the \rariior. And in tliis,
it is not to be denied, that the human niind at-
tained'in the savage state, a fortitude and a mag-
nanimity that it does not attain, amidst the re-
finements, customs, and maxims of polished na-
tions.

Amazed at the firmmess and fortitude, v/hich
the savage displays in the most dreadful of all
situations, several philosophers have aimed to
discover some apathy, some natural defect, or
w^ant of sensibility in his frame, which qualified
him to bear pain with less feeling, and with
more fortitude, than other micn. There is no
such defect in his constitution. His magna-
nimity arises from a sense and principle cf hon-
our. This is the first principle he is taught ;
the sole object of his education, profession, and
pursuit. Amidst the rudeness and hardihood
of the savage state, this principle acts with more
force and vigour upon the human mind, than
it ever acquires amidst the refirfemcnts and
softness of a more polished state of society.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 399

Refinement, and the arts, soften and relax the
mind ; philosophy debiUtates the body, while it
aims to correct all rudeness and excess in the
mind, and to give it a just habit and tone of
thinking and acting : But in the rudeness of
' the savage state, every thing concurs to give an
unaltered firmness to the body, and to the
mind ; the principle of honour has nothing to
oppose or rehix it : And it will be in the most
hardy body and mind, that nature and honour
"will act with the greatest force and vigour.
The principles of religion only, have ever pro-
duced a similar phenomenon. The heroic spir-
it of the martyr, undaunted and triumphant in
the torture, and in the flame, has alone exceed-
ed or equalled ilie fortitude and magnanimity of
the man of nature.

Favourable to Political talents,
AND Virtues. The savage state was also
friendly to some of the political talents and vir-
tues. The love of his country, derived from
nature, cherished by education, ambition, pre-
cept, and example, became a very pov/erfui
principle in the breast of a savage. His affec-
tions were confined to the limits of his o^vn
tribe, and his views never extended any further.
His glory terminated in the services he could
reader to it : And the createst of all attainments
was to expand the national fame, reputation,
and conquests. To this he became attached by
birth, education, and interest ; by ambition,
honour, and a thirst for glory. Every passion
that glowed in the breast of the savage, served
to increase and add strenc-th to the love of his

O

country. No motives cf ambition, gain, le-

200 NATURAL AND CIVIL

venge, or policy, ever lead him to betray its in-
terests or councils, to desert to the enemy, or
to prove a traitor to the country and tribe, that
gave him birth. This principle connected to-
gether the members of the same tribe : It seems
to have taken the deepest root, to ha^e acted
with the greatest force, and to have been the
least corrupted, in the savage state.

When the interests of their countrv were to
be considered, niiich prudence Mid ivisdom were
displayed in their councils. The chiefs and el-
ders consulted with c^reat deliberation, serious-
ness, and calmness ; and Vvithout any apptar-
ance of provocation, resentment, or impatience
at contradiction and opposition. Every propo-
sal was considered ; the probable efit-cts and
consequences, advantages and disadvantages,
were examined and weighed. No heat, anger,
ill nature, or reflections upon one another, but
perfect calmness prevailed : And that conclu-
sion was embraced, which appeared to be most
beneficial to the tribe. Those of the Europe-
ans Vvho have attended these councils of the
savages, have compared them to the accounts,
historians have given us, of the proceedings of
the senates in the ancient republics,* They
bore the appearance of solemnity, gravity, and
deliberation. In these councils, iutegr^itJj and
public virtue v/as ahvays preserved. Tlie ob-
jects they had to determine, were not of a trivial
or insignificant nature : they were those, which
involve all that is the most dear, valuable, and
important to man, in any stage of society : The

* Cbarlevoix^ii. 36. Smith's Hist. Ncv,york,p.53.Piiil. Edit*

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 201

preservation and protection of their property ;
the safety and the lives of their wives, children,
and fathers ; the existence, the independence,
and the freedom of their country. The coun-
cils of civilized nations may be employed upon
objects of a much greater extent ; but they
never can contemplate objects of more impor-
tance, of greater value, or of a higher nature.
In attending to them the mind of the savage be-
came composed, sedate, grave, and serious. He
had no private interest to corrupt him ; no
broken fortune to be repaired ; nothing to be
expected from the misfortunes of his country ;
from lucrative jobs, posts of honour and profit ;
from the management of the public wealth ; or
from the weakness, prejudice, and favourite
passions of a prince. No emoluments or ad-
vantages could accrue to him, but those of the
public good. In such a situation, corruptioa
Vv^ould not enter into the councils of the savages.
There was nothing to be gained by intrigue,
dissimulation, or knavery. All the advantages
that could ai'ise to individuals, must arise from
the general good of the tribe. And where there
was nothing to be gained by corruption, there
was nothing left for their counsellors, but to dis-
play their greatest wisdom, integrity, and public
virtue.

The nature of their government and councils
was also favourable to eloquence^ and the art of
public speaking. This seems to have been the
only art, in v»'hich the Indian rose to any emin-
ence. Unable to remember an irregular uncon-
nected discourse, the Indian was extremely fond
of regularity and method. When he spoke,

202 NATURAL AND CIVIL

his speech was short and laconic ; and the mean-
ing was conveyed in bold and strong nietaphors.
Allien thc}^ return an answer, they repeat the
whole that has been said to them, and reduce it
into a strict and rej^^ular order. Their words
are but few ; the language strong, and figura-
tive ; the figures expressive, vigorous, and bold ;
their manner, grave and animating ; the tone,
determined and decisive ; and the sentiment thev
mean to convey, so clearly expressed, that they
are never misunderstood. An historian who
■was present at sevcial of their conferences with
the English, gives this account of the appear-
ance and manners of their orators, " Their
speakers deliver themselves with surprisingforce,
and great propriet3' of gesture. The fierceness
of their countenances, the flowing blanket, ele-
vated tone, naked arm, and erect stature, Vvith a
half circle of auditors seated on the ground, and
in the open air, cannot but impress upon the
mind, a lively idea of the ancient orators of
Greece and Rome."* Some of their speeches
in manliness of sentiment, in the force of ex-
pression, and in the elegance of the arrangement,
have been fully equal to the productions of the
Grecian, Roman, or British eloquence. And in
no case does language acquire such force and
vigour, as when it is the dictate of the passions
and feelings of nature, in her rude and unculti-
vated state.

It was by the combination of these virtues
and abilities, that the savage rose to public hon-
ours, employment, and distinction. The brav-

» Smith's Iljst, of Ncwyork.p. 53.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 203

est and the wisest became the leader, and the
sachem. No other arts could secure the pub-
lic esteem and favour, but superior abilities and
exploits. The ancients generally numbered
good fortune, among the most necessary qualifi-
cations of their heroes. The Indians adopted
this idea in its full force, and extent.' Without
distinguished bravery and success, the private
man was never promoted at all : If he proved
an unfortunate and unsuccessful leader, he soon
lost all his influence and reputation.

In these maxims and customs of the savage
state, there were constant and powerful motives,
to the exertion of all their political talents and
virtues : And there w^is much less intrigue and
dorruption in those public proceedings, which
related to their own tribe, than there generally
is in the transactions of civilized societies.

Favourable to the Kxercise of some
Virtues. Several of the vices that prevail a-
mong polished nations, were seldom to be found
among the Indians ; and there were some vir-
tues, to the exercise of which, the savage state
was not unfriendly. The hospitality which the
ancients celebrated so much, was of great im-
portance and use in the early stages of society.
When the stranger and traveller could lind no
accommodation or protection, but in the kind-
ness of those on whom he culled for relief, hos-
pitality became a virtue of the highest use and
excellcncv : the business and convenience of
life, could not have been easily carried on v/ith-
out it. As society became improved, the stran-
ger found in the protection of laws, and in the
use of money, that relief, which he before de-

204 NATURAL AND CIVIL

rlvecl from the hospitality of the age. In pol-
ished nations, the necessit}^ and the existence of
this virtue, have in a great measure ceased.
Among the savages it prevailed to an high de-
gree, and acted with its full force. The Euro-
peans every where found the most friendly and
cordial reception, when they first came among
the savages ; and from their hospitality, they
derived all the assistance the savas-es could af-
ford them. It was not until disputes and dif-
ferences had taken place, that the Indians be-
came unfriendly. Even now, an unarmed de-
fenceless stranger, that repairs to them for re-
lief and protection, is sure to find safety and as-
sistance in their hospitality. The friendship of
the Indian, is always a very strong and vigorous
affection. His passions unsubdued, undisci-
plined, and uno-overned, ab.vavs act with pveat
force and vigour : ^Vha•.ever be the object of
them, the passion itself is always impetuous and
strong. No bounds are set to his resentment
and revenge, when injured ; and no length of
time, will obliterate the memory of a favour.
The same impetuosity and perseverance, with
ivhich he pursues his enemy, is employed to as-
sist and preserve his friend. In this respect,
the Indian attachments have fully equalled any
thing that is to be found, in the history of man.
Several of their best concerted expeditions have
failed, through the anxiety of an individual to
preserve a friend from the common vengeance
and destruction.

Trained up to the most refined cunning
and dissimulation in war, the Indian carries
nothing of this into the affairs of commerce ;

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 205

but is fair, open, and honest in his trade. He
was accustomed to no falsehood or deception^
in the management of his barter. And he was
astonished at the deceit, knavery, and fraud of
the European traders. He had no bolts or
locks to guard against stealing, nor did he ever
conceive his property was in any danger of be-
ing stolen, by any of his tribe. All that trairt
of infamous and unmanly vices, which arise
from avarice, were almost unknown to the sav-
age state. Lying" and falsehood were viewed
with horror, and detestation. When they foiind
tliese vices Common among some of the Euro-
peans, the Indians viewed them as a corrupt
and odious race ; in whose truth, justice, and
declarations, no faith could be placed. They
had no name for adultery, or rape. Quarrelling^,
contention, and discord, with their numerous ill
effectS, were but little known among the mem-
bers of the same tribe.

Their morality, confined to a few objects,
admitted of fewer vices than the civilized state.
Where no v/ants are known but those of nature,"
and the way to supply those wants is the same,
and open to all ; the individuals of the same so-
ciety, will live in a friendly and cordial manner
together ; without many grounds of strife, and
without much temptation to injure each other.
In the language of the Indians, this is denomi-
nated a state of brotherhood : In this state, the
moral sense will join its influence with the so-
cial affections, to prevent injuries, evils, and vi-
ces ; and to restrain the members of the tribe^
from violating the rules of morality. As such
a state does not adrait of many of the virtues ci

VOL. I, B 2

me NATURAL AND GIVIL

civilized nations, it is also in a great measure
free, from many of their most dangerous vices*

In such respects, the savage state seems to
have had advantages peculiar to itself ; and to
have produced effects, which are not to be ex^
pected among civilized nations. But before we
decide on its operation and tendency, it will be
necessary to examine the disadvantages y to which
It is subject ; with their influence, and effect oii
liociety.

The Savage state unfavorable to
ALL Intellectual Improvements. A&
one disadvantage of the savage state, it has con-
stantly proved unfavourable to all intellectual
improvements and exertions. Occupied solely
^vith hunting and war, the savage had no idea
or wish for any intellectual attainment, which
was not immediately connected with his favour-
ite professions. Neither his reason, nor his in-
vention, appeal" to have been much exercisetj
upon any object, not suggested by his necessi-
ties. Taking the game, and subduing his ene-
my, did not depend on the knowledge of letters.
The transactions of his ancestors, were not of
much importance to him : He had no code of
laws, no evidences of property, or any public
transactions to be recorded. With these arts,
of so much importance to civilized nations, but
of little consequence to the Indians, they were
wholly unacquainted ; and had not made any
advance towards the discovery of letters. The
only thing which they appeared anxious to re*
cord, was the exploits of their warriors. When
a party of these had met w^ith uncommon sue-
cess, it was often the case that they made some

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 207

very rough figures or inscriptions upon the trees,
to represent the direction of their march, the
number of enemies which they had slain, and
taken captive.* These kind of inscriptions
were sometimes made upon the rocks ; but
they were not confined to the affairs of war. At
West river in this state, near its entrance into
Connecticut river, several of these inscriptions
yet remain. They are irregularly placed, and
rudely scratched upon a rock, and but little
sunk below its surface. Four of them seem
designed to represent the wild duck, and the
fifth was probably designed for a fox or wolf.
At Bellow's falls in Rockingham there are seve-
ral figures of a superior work. They amount
to ten or twelve in number, and are wrought into
the surface of the rock. These inscriptions
represent a number of heads ; some of men,
some of women, some of children, and some of
other animals. The outlines of these figures
are aukward and ill executed, but they are sunk
into the rock at least one third of an inch in
depth. How long they have been there, or
what transactions they were intended to repre-
sent, no tradition gives us any account ; but
their rudeness and awkwardness denote that the
formers of them were at a great remove from
the knowledge of any alphabet. The art of
numbering and computation, is an elementary
and essential art in every nation where business
is transacted, or any considerable intercourse
and commerce is carried on. But the savage
had nothing to number, that was of much im-

* Sir W.Johnson'* account; Pliil. Trail*. Vol. LXIII. paje 143,

208 NATURAL AND CIVIL

portance to him. He had no treasures to count ;
no property, the value of which, was to be com-
puted ; nor any variety of objects, the number
and value of which, must be expressed by fig-
ures. Arithmetic would therefore have been
an useless art to the Indian ; and he had not
jnade any attempt to attain it. They could
count as far as ten or twent}" ; all beyond this,
wag compared to the number of the trees, or
the hair on their heads. The only objects, on
which the Indian had empIo3ed his reason, were
those of external sense ; such as are material or
corporal, the idea, of which is received by the
senses. They had no name for any of the sci-
ences, or for abstract and universal ideas.
Time, space, duration, siibstance, and all those
terms, which are used to represent abstract and
■universal ideas, appear to have been unknown ;
and probably never were the objects of their in-
quiry, contemplation, or thought.

The ideas of religion, were extremely weak
and obscure in the savage. Our Maker.hdiS
not left us to a course of metaphysical reasoning
upon the connexion between cause and effect,
to come to the knowledge of his existence.
Long before men become capable of such ex-
ercises of the reasoning powers, they believe in
the existence of a Deity. A sense of his being,
seems to be inscribed upon the human mind.
And probably no tribe has ever been found,
that had not the idea of some superior powerful
being. Whether this was the object of fear, or
of love, or however it was represented, the idea
of a superior being seems to have been common
and general among all nations. It takes pl^cf-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 209

\n the mind, before we are capable of reasoning
about cause and effect : And it seems to be de-
rived from a revelation, which the Deity hath
made of himself to man. In the constitution of
the human mind, in its feelings, passions and
motions, a sense of the Deity seems to be in-
terwoven, instamped, and inscribed. And this
revelation becomes more clear, plain, aud intel-
ligible, according to the manner and degree in
which it is improved, Am.ong the Indians, it
appeared in its weakest and most obscure state.
They denominated the Deity, the Great Spirit^
the Great Alan above ; and seemed to have
some general, but very obscure ideas of his
government, providence, universal power, and
dominion.

The immortality of the soul, was every
where admitted among the Indian tribes. The
sentiment itself results from our fears, hopes,
and feelings. Man is scarcely ever degraded
and sunk so low, but that he hopes and believes
that death will not prove the extinction of his
being. This sentiment prevailed in every part
of Americao The Indians so firmly believed it,
that it was their general custom to bury with
the dead, their bows, their arrows, their spears,
and some venison, that they might not be whol-
ly unprepared to begin their course with advan-
tage, in another state. There might be a few
exceptions, but the general sentiment was near-
ly the same in every part of the continent.

But both these sentiments, the existence of
a God, and the immortality of the soul, were
nothing more in the savage, than the dictate and
y9^ce of nature. They were not the object of

210 NATURAL AND CIVIL

his inquir}-, discourse, reasoning, or contempla"*
tion. The Indians had made no improvements,
no cultivation of the gifts of nature and provi-
dence ; and they had very little influence on any
part of his conduct. " They had not produced
any domestic, or public devotion ; any form,
rite, or mode of worship ; or any system of
manners and customs, favourable to national
virtue and religion. Without a priest, without
a temple, sacrifice, or altar, the Indian w^as sunk
under the thickest gloom of ignorance, supersti-
tion, and stupidity.

His reason, never employed on any intellec-
tual attainment or exertion, he remained in a
state of nature ; wholly vmacquainted with eve-
ry thing derived from the exercise, improve-
ment, and cultivation of the powers of the mind.
Neither his reason, or his desires, ever moved
or tended towards any such improvements :
And so long as hunting should have continued
to be the mode of his subsistence, so long it is
probable, he would have remained at a distance
from everv intellectual attainment.

Admits of but few Virtues. It was
another disadvantage of the savage state, that it
did not admit of but few virtues. The moral
sense, or conscience, makes part of our natural
constitution ; and is as essential to man, as his
appetites and passions, as his countenance and
form. When this is not corrupted or perverted,
its dictates are clear and right, and do not tend
to mislead us : And its dictates are never more
clear and certain, than when they arc the genu-
ine and simple voice of nature. There were
fewer temptations and there were fewer vices in

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 211

tlie savage state, to corrupt and pervert the mo-
ral sense, than there are in a polished state of so-
ciety : But there were also fewer motives, oc-
casions, and opportunities for virtue. Rever-
ence and respect to the Deity, had little 2:)lace
or effect on the uncultivated mind of the savage.
There was nothing in his situation to produce
those offices of kindness, and tenderness, which
poften the heart, and sweeten the intercourse of
life, in the civilized state. The sullen pride of
independence, was the strongest passion in the
heart of the Indian 5 and it left but little room
for tender and generous affections to others.
Depending solely upon himself, the heart of the
savage contracts an insensibility, an hardness, a
roughness, very Imfavorable to social connex-
ions. Expecting no offices of kindness from
others, he v/as very little employed in relieving
the distresses, supplying the wants, or gratifying
the desires of others. In a heart thus contract-
ed, but few virtues will reside. The natural
affections will remain, and may become strong
and vigorous : But the divine, social, and hu-
man virtues, find an unfriendly soil ; become
few in their number, and weak in their opera-
tion.

No Attainment in the Arts. Those
arts, which are the most necessary and useful to
men in the civil state, were almost wholly un-
known among the savages. To provide a cov-
ering to defend the body against heat, cold, and
moisture, is one of the first arts that man must
have attended to. The Indian had gone no fur-
ther in this primary and essential art, than to
apply the skins and furs of animals to this pur-

212 NATURAL AND CIVIL

pose. The art of spinning, knitting, and weav-
ing, were wholly unknown to the northern In-
dians. They had no other materials to cover
and clothe their bodies, than what were derived
from hunting. Architecture of some kind and
form, must unavoidably engage the attention of
men, in every climate and country. The at-
tainments of the Indians in this art, were the
lowest that can be conceived. Their buildings
were nothing more than a fevv^ temporary and
wretched huts, put together without order,
strength, or convenience; Some crotched
stakes were thrust into the ground : these were
connected by poles, laid from the one to the oth-
er ; and the whole v/as covered with the bark,
limbs, and leaves of the trees. An aperture
Was left at the top, for the conveyance of smoke ;
and the fire was kindled in the middle. This
was called a cabin or wigwam, and was without
windows, doors, or any division of apartments.
This was the highest elegance and convenience,
the house of the Indian had attained*

The progress ®f the arts, depends very much
on the instruments and tools, with which the
artificers are furnished. Most of these among
civilized nations are derived from the applica-
tion, and use of the metals ; particularly that of
iron. From this metal is formed almost every
instrument, that is employed in peace or in war.
Civilized nations have availed themselves of the
discovery and use of this metal, in every kind
of art that they pursue. The Indian was in no
capacity to arrive to such an improvement.
Copper, silver, and gold, have been found in
theii- perfect state, in the rocks, mountains, and

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 21S

yivers ; and w«re the metals, v/hich werc first
kno\vn and used. But nature never completes
the formation of iron. It must pass through
two or three tedious operations by fire, before it
appears in its perfect and useful form. With
the former metals, the Indians in some parts of
America, were well acquainted : But of the na-
ture and use of iron, all of them were wholly
i^^norant. Destitute of this capital advantage,
all their tools and instruments to an European,
would have been wholly useless. Their axe
was made of a sharpened stone. Their knifs
was formed out of a shell, or bone. Every oth-
er instrument ¥/as equally impotent, and ill con-
trived. The arms they had contrived for de-
fence or attack, were equally feeble and awk-
ward : A club made of hard wood, a stake har-
dened in the fire, a lance armed with a flint or a
bone, a bow and an arrow, constituted the whole
artillery of an Indian war. Of domestic utensils
and household furniture, they had nothing that
deserved the name. A bed, a chair, a table, a
pot, a kettle, or an oven, were wholly unknown.
Their bread was baked on the coals. Their
meat was broiled in the same manner. Their
greatest art in cookery, was their method of
boiling theii' food. Apiece of wood, or a stone,
with extreme labour, was formed into a hollow,
and filled with water ; and this water was made
to boil, by throwing into it stones heated red
hot.

The greatest performance of the Indian gen-
ius, was the construction of his canoe. With
Infinite labour, they sometimes hollowed out a
tTce, and gave it a form adapted to the Jpurpose
vol. I. C 2

ru NATURAL AND CIVIL

of navigation. In a canoe thus formed, four or
five Indians would pass a river, a large lake, or
a dangerous rapid, widi much safety, and dex-
terity. Another kind of canoe, was formed out
of the bark of the elm, or birch. This was the
Mork of but a few days, and was extremely-
light and convenient. It was of sufficient di-
mensions, to carry four or five Indians ; and so
light, that one of them could easily carry it on
his back. The dexterity of his management,
the swiftness of his voyage, and the safety with
which the Indians pass the falls, rapids, and
waves in this kind of boat, has appeared surpri-
sing to those persons, who were best acquainted
with the arts of navigation. And it seems to
have been the highest attainment, to which the
genius or invention of the Indian, had ever
arisen.

In the application and use of particular ve-
getable, animal, and mineral substances, the In-
dians seem to have had some information, which
ought to have been more attended to, and better
ascertained. They certainly knew of some
substances, which gave the most vivid and per-
manent colours ; and of others which contain-
ed the most subtle, active, and powerful poi-
sons. In several cases of poisons, wounds, and
some other disorders, the Indians had the knowl-
edge of very valuable medicines : And they de-
rived support, refreshment, and medicine, from
several plants and vegetables, in which the Eng-
lish had not discovered any such virtues or
qualities. The knowledge of such ficts, was
the result of such observations, as experience
ig^turally produced. But as the Indian never

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 21S

attempted to improve any information \vhich he
had, and knew of no method to preserve it but
tradition, he made small advances in this kind
of knowledge ; and it was rather a matter of
secrecy, than of investigation. Nor was there
any thing in his situation, or employment, a-
dapted to call forth the latent powers of his
mind, and to produce the spirit of inquiry and
improvement.

Very Unfavourable to Population^
A disadvantage still more unfavourable attended
the savage state, it tended much to retard popu-
lation. From the earliest histories of Virginia,
it has been computed that the number of In-
dians in that part of the continent, did not a-
mount to more than one for every square mile.*
I do not find any account, which will lead us to
estimate the number of Indians in New En^:-
land, at a higher ratio than this. In those parts
of the United States where the farms are well
managed, a farm of one hundred acres will well sup-
port a family of ten persons. Tliis amounts to
sixty four persons, on one square mile. The
Indian population then, compared to what has
already taken place in those parts of the United
States, which are Vv^eil settled and cultivated^
was in no higher a proportion than one to sixty
four. A difference so unfavourable to the pro-
duction of life, denotes some essential defecj: in
the savage state.

Population depends upon a variety of cir-
cumstanccs, all of which are never found to
«oncur, in favour of apy people, tfi the state

• JeScriijjj'i NfUssn Virjinls, p. isf ,

216 NATURAL AND CIVIL

and situation of the Indians, there were fewer
circumstances favourable to population, than in
any other state of society. In the constitution,
form, and vigour of his body, nature was boun-
tiful to the Indian. In the dimensions and size
of his body, in the proportion and perfection of
all his limbs, members, and organs, he rather
exceeded than fell short of the European. All
that have been acquainted with the savages,
have been struck with this circumstance. In
no race of men, has the human body appeared
to be better formed, more nicely adjusted, or to
be more perfectly proportioned in all its mem-
bers and parts. No deficiency therefore arose
from an}' impotency, or w^ant of \igour, in any
of the powei's of nature.

But whatever may be the original powers of
nature, they are weakened and impaired v.ithout
proper food, and nourislftment : And it is onty,
where suitable and nutritive food is to be ob-
tained in regulai' and sufficient quantities, that
animals will become the most prolific. In this
respect, the situation and state of the savage,
was greatly unfavourable to increase and popu
lation. Destitute of anv certain or regular food
and nourishment, the Indians suffered severely
this way. At one period, all was gluttony and
excess ; at another, famine and hunger became
extreme and distressing. The heaviest part of
this distress fell upon the women, who were the
least able to bear it : And at no time did they
enjoy that regular and steady supply of food^
which nature required. In the male, this tend-
ed to impair the animal passion : In the female,
It tended not only t» weaken itj but to render it

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 217

greatly dangerous to indulg'e it. Its effects were
still worse upon the pregnant ; and often de-
stroyed the increase and fruit of nature, before-
the birth.

The manner in which the Indians procured
their food, was equally unfavourable to popula-
tion, as the uncertainty and irregularity of it.
Destitute of a fixed settlement and abode, the-
savage spent the hunting season in wandering
through the forests in quest of game, and gener-
ally carried his family with him. Their women
must climb the mountains, wade through the
rivers, force their way in the thickets of the
forest, sleep upon the wet ground in the open
air, and carry their children with them ; and a-
midst all these fatisrues and distresses, were of-
ten Vvdthout food for several days, and always
without comfortable refreshment. Instead of
being in any degree prolific, the white women,
would have all perished in such a situation.
The wonder is, not why population should have
been so small, but how it should subsist at all,
in such a situation. If the constitution of the.
savage had not been uncommonly strong and
vigorous, not only the animal passion, but all
the powers of nature would have ceased and
become extinct, by such continued scenes of
fatigue and distress.

The constancy and perpetuity of their wars,
had also a fatal infiuence on population. The
irruption of an enemy desolated their cultivated
lands, disturbed them in their hunting exer-
tions, and destroyed all the little stock of provi-
sions they had saved. The women and chil-
fU-eo had no place of refuge, but to conceal

218 NATURAL AND CIVIL

themselves in the "woods, and mountains ; where
many of them must perish for want of food,
and all of them must be in a suffering and dis-
tressed condition. In the whole catalogue of
human woes, it is not possible to conceive of
any state more distressing, than that of a preg-
nant woman, in a situation so horrid and awful.
Many of them lived, and brought forth the fruit
of ^lature, amidst this- complication of miseries.
But the preservation of the mother and child
approached nearer to the nature of a miracle,
than to what is esteemed the effect of the estab-
lished and regular laws of nature, 'in the civiliz-
ed state. While their wars had this fatal ten-
dency to prevent the increase^ they operated
with a force equally fatal, to destroy and sweep
off those that were the most vigorous and active.
Revenge, destruction, the utter externiination of
an enemy, was the object aimed at in an Indian
war : And while it was carried on, it operated
and raged with a fatal and a certain tendency,
to effect its design, aim, and end.

Other causes might be found, in the cus-
toms, manners, and maxims of the savages,
which were also unfavourable to increase and
multiplication ; but it is not necessary to enu-
merate every particular, that would apply to this
subject. The circumstances which have been
mentioned, are sufficient to account for all that
has been uncommon, in the defect of Indian
population. That these circumstances, do in
fact contain the causes, which rendered the
population so small among the savages, is con-
firmed from this additional evidence. Wher-
ever the Indianb have been placed in a situation

HISTORY OF VERMONT, 21?

favourable to increase, they have become equal-
ly prolific as the descendants of Europe, Seve-
ral of tlie traders amoiig the Indian tribes, have
married with their women ; When the Indian
womciT have been thus provided with comfort-
able food, raiment, and places of abode, and re-
lieved from the fatigues and distresses of the
savage state, they have raised up as large and
numerous families, as are found in the houses
of the white people. And among themselves,
when a tribe was situated on the bank of a riv-
er abounding with fish, or in a spot where the
game was plenty, and they remained undisturb-
ed by their enemies ; their numbers soon in-
creased, their women became more valued and
esteemed, and population assumed a greater
force and vigour.

In some parts of America, the Indians had
advanced beyond the savage state, and acquired
some of the arts and conveniences of the civil
state. In such places, the same increase of
numbers took place among them, that is seem
among other nations. The intercourse between
the sexes approached nearer to delicacy and re-
finement. Greater attention was paid to the
women. The men became sensible, how much
their happiness might be promoted, by the at-
tachment and tenderness of the female. In the
empires of Peru and Mexico, the Indians had
made considerable advances to such a state :
And their population had beceme vigorous and
rapid. Their numbers resembled the appear-
ance of things in Europe ; and their cities a-
bounded with inhabitants. Sixty thousand
fvimilies, were said by Cortez, to be contained

220 NATURAL AND CIVIL \

in the city of Mexico, when he led his band of

ruftians against it. From these effects we may :

determiiie with certainty, that the defect in the ;

Indian population, was not derived from any ,

weakness, iniootency, degradation, or defect of !

nature ; but arose from a situation, in which i

every circumstance was unfriendly to increase, |

and multiplication. i

From the beardless countenance, and inat- :

tcntion of tlie Indian to the female, some philo- 'j

sophers of great eminence and abilities, have |

formed the most extravagant systems and theo- \
ries. One has asserted that tlie Indian of A-

inerica has an inferior constitution to the Euro- '

pean ; that he is weak, and deficient in the or- ^

gans of generation ; ^vithout ardour, and impo- j
tent with the female ; and destitute of natural

affections to his wife and children.* Another !

is positive that he is not descended from the J

common parents of the whites, but is a distinct, ;
separate, and inferior oidcr of men to them ; of

a different original, and speclefi.f And it seems j

to be generally asserted and believed, by the j

historians who have quoted these accounts, that ]

the man of America was of less force, energy, \

and vigour, than the man of Europe ; and la- '

boured under some physical defect, or degrada- •

tion. J

The clearest proof, and the most unexcep- \

tionable evidence, ought to have been produced, j

before a philosopher admitted as facts, things |

so repugnant to the general principles and laws \

of nature. Had this been attempted, it would ,

]

M. ^eBuffon, iviii. I46. 1

Kaims' Sketchee Hist, of Man, Vol. I. Sketch I. Val, III. Sketch 12- ij

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 221

have corrected the error ; for the facts are all
in opposition, to what has been so often assert-
ed, and quoted. No such animal was ever seen
in America, as the Indian M. de BufFon describe
cd in Paris. If the facts had been true, the
conclusions which have been drawn from them,
would have been wholly uncertain. The want
of a beard would have been no proof, that the
Indians were incapable of population : And the
want of that excessive licentious ardour, with
which the negro and the libertine glows, is in
no degree unfriendly to population. Every
passion carried to excess, tends to weaken and
enervate the whole animal frame. In obedience
to that temperance, purity, and regularity, which
nature enjoins and requires, are we to look for
the effects, which nature designs. But the ar-
dour produced by luxury, intemperance, and
excess, weakens its own powers, defeats its end,
and destroys its purpose : Instead of proving
favourable to population, it tends to weakness,
impotency, and the loss of manhood. Is it not
surprising, that philosophers who had seen the
debilitating and degrading effects, which luxury,
intemperance, and excess, are constantly pro-
ducing in the populous cities of Europe ; should
view the unnatural ardour they create, in any
other, than an unfavourable light ? Or suspect
the Indian was inferior by nature to the Euro-
pean, because he did not appear to be governed
by that unnatural ardour, which never fails to
debilitate all the powers of nature ; And which
often ends, in the most emaciated and degraded
state, to which man can be reduced ? Happily
for himself, the Indian was without this unnatu*-
VOL. I. T) 2

^22 NATURAL AND CIVIL

fal ardour. Had it been added to the other uri"
fortunate circumstances attending his situation,
it would have gone far to have destroyed the
tvhole race. - .^

Averse to all Improvements. The
most fatal circumstance of all, was, the savage
state was extremely averse and opposed to all
improvements. It is with a bene\'olent design,
that nature reconciles and conciliates the mind
of man, to that state in which it is placed. At
the same time, it has made us capable of con-
tinual advance and progression^ to greater im-
provements and perfection. So attached was
the sa^^age to the former^ that he had no wish
or desire of the latter. Content and satisfied
with his own state,^ he had no wish, hope, or
conception, that it c®uld be changed for a bet-
ter. Accustomed to the most perfect freedom
and independence, he beheld with detestation >
the inequality of rank, and the subordination
established among the PZuropeans. Free from
all care, and without foresight, he was amazed
at the anxiety, the care, and perpetual industry
of the white people : And could not conceive ■
■why they should be thus perpetually adding
hard labour, to the other calamities of life. The
constant scenes of hurry, care, and business, in
which they were employed, were objects averse
to all their feelings and wishes : And what they
viewed as the most degraded condition, to which
man could be reduced, was the business of ag-
riculture, digging and labouring in the earth.
The weapons of the Europeans appeai'cd useful
to them, and these they were at much pains to
acquire. But most of their arts, customs, and

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 22S

manners, were greatly disagreeable to men, ac-
customed only to the business of hunting and
fighting. Men thus satisfied with their own
condition, and averse to that of others, could
not be brought, but with great difficult}^ to ad-
mit the improvements of the civilized life ; or
to give up that independence, which they es-
teemed the highest distinction, and the greatest
^lory of man.

The appetite for the hunter's state, is one of
the most general and powerful, that prevails in
any period of society. Men never quit this
state, untii it becomes inadequate to their sub^
sistence and support. It is in hunting and in
fishing, not in agriculture and the arts, that the
indolent and wealthy in the most polished na-
tions, find their favourite amustment and exer-
cise. The children of the white people, wheri
carried among the savages in early life, have of-
ten contracted such an attachment to that state,
that they could not be persuaded to return, and
reside among their friends. But nothing can
reconcile the children of the Indians, to the cus-
toms, manners, and methods of living among
the Europeans : However caressed and indulg-
ed, they droop and languish, until they return
to the freedom and wildness of the forest.

Nor Avas there any thing in the savage state,
that could refine or improve itself. While the
game continued, the same method of living
would have remained : And this would natural-
ly have continued all the disadvantages, and
habits of the savage state. The same method
of support, would have perpetuated the same
manners, maxims, and customs. Nothing

'M^

224 NATURAL AND CIVIL

would have led d people in such a situation, tQ
any improvements, until necessity should have
introduced agriculture ; and forced them to be-
come husbandmen, instead of remaining hun^
ters.

Such were the disadvantages attending the
savage state. They appear to have been in-
separably connected with it : And of such a
nature, as to prevent the improvement, progress,
or increase of society. We need not hesitate
to pronounce, that these disadvantages far ex-
ceeded any advantages that could attend it ;
and operated with a certain and fj^tal tendency,
to continue man in a state of infancy, weakness,
and the greatest imperfection. The freedom to
"which it led, was its greatest blessing ; but the
independence of which the savage was so fond, was
never designed for man : And it is only in the
improvements of civil society, that the human
race can find the greatest increase of their num=
berg, knowledge, safety, and happiness.

\

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 225

CHAPTER Vni.

Original Inhabitants. Observations on
the Origin of the Indians^ their Antiquity^
Progress of Sosiety^ andTendency to Dissolu-
tion,

THE Man of America differed in so
many respects from the men of other countries,
that it has been made a question among some
of the modern philosophers, whether he was
originally derived from the same parents as the
white men j or ought to be considered as a dif-
ferent race, from the men of other countries.
No inquiries have the appearance of greater dif-
ficulties than those, which relate to the origin,
and antiquity of the American Indians. With-
out attempting to resolve all the questions that
have been proposed upon these subjects, it may
be of use to collect some of the facts that seem
to relate to them, and to note the conclusions
to which they lead.

Origin. In whatever manner this part of
the earth was peopled, the Indian or the Red
Man, seems to have been the most ancient, or
the original man of America. This race were
by far the most numerous ; and they had spread
over the whole continent, from about the fiftieth
degree of north latitude to the southern extremi-
ty of Cape Horn. This vast extent of country,
including all the variety of climates, was settled
with the red men : And these men, everywhere
appeared to be the same race, or kind of people.
Jni every part of the continent^ the Indians wei'c

228 NATURAL AND CIVIL

marked with a similarity of colour, features, and
every circumstance of external appearance.
Pedro de Cieca de Leon, who was one of tlie
conquerors of Peru, and had travelled through
many provinces of America, p^ives this account
of the inhabitants .• " The people, men and wo-
men, although there is such a multitude of
tribes or nations as to be almost innumerable,
and such diversity of climates, appear neverthe-
less like the children of one father and mother."*
Ulloa, an able philosopher, and an accurate ob-
server, visited and observed many of the Indian
tribes and nations, of South America : He ob-
served also the Indians at Cape Breton, in North
America ; and saith of the latter, that they were
the same people with the Indians of Peru, re-
sembling them in complexion, in manners, and
in customs ; the only visible difference, being,
that the Indians at Cape Breton, were of a larger
stature than those at Peru. '' If we have seen
one American," saith he, " we may be said to
have seen them all, their colour and make are
so nearly the same."t And it is worthy of re-
mark, that no nation or people upon the earth,
ever have spread over so large a tract of coun-
try, as these red men of America.

Were these men the same people with the
inhabitants of the other parts of the globe ? Or
did they radically difter fron\ the men of all oth-
er countries ? 1. They were of the same com-
plexioii^ with the most ancient naiion in Asin.
r rom authentic documents, we are able to trace
the existence, and national transactions of the

♦ Robertson's Hut. Am<'rica, "^'ol. \\. p 463. iicte 4J.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 227

Hindoos, to an higher antiquity, than we can
find with certainty in any other nation. These
were the Indians, or red men of Asia* And
the Indians of both continents, are marked with
the same pecuharity of colour. The distin-
guishing colour of the Indian, is red, or rather
a reddish brown ; resembling, but more dark
than a copper colour. From this similarity of
complexion, it is natural to conjecture, that the
Indian of Asia and of America belonged to the
same family. 2. T\\^ features and countenance
of the American Indians, very much resem.ble
those of another of the nations of Asia, the Tar-
tars. The Tartars join upon India, are spread
over the northern parts of Asia, and extend to
the eastern coasts of the Pacific ocean. Of
their appearance and countenance, geographers
give us this account : " They are in general
strong made, stout men ; Their faces broad,
their noses fiattish, their eyes small and black,
but very quick."*" The Indians of America
are thus described, by those who had lived long
among them : " The limbs are well turned, the
body of just proportion, the countenance bro:id,
their nose flat, their eyes black, small, but capa-
ble of discerning objects at a great distance. "f
If these descriptions had been taken from the
same individual, there could not have been a
greater agreement, in every circumstance of as-
pect and countenance.

3. Some information respecting the descent
of nations, may also be derived from their ciis-
k)ms. Those customs and manners which arise

♦ Guthrie's Geog. p. 660.

+ UHQa'$ and Pint* s aeceunt. Robertson's Hfst. Amer. I, /\t>o.

228 STATURAL AND CIVIL

from the wants, desires, and inclinations, pecu-
liar to situation and employment, will be the;
same in the same state of society. A hunter in
Asia, and a hunter in America, will have near-
ly the same character, the same occupations,
pursuits, and manners. But those customs
which do not arise from situation, or from any
natural want or desire, may be termed arbitrary :
And the probability is, that two nations would
not agree in these, unless they were derived
from the one to the other. Several of these
aj-bitrary customs, were common to the men of
Asia and America.

One of these customs, was that of extracting
their beards with the roots. The Tartars and
the Americans, had both adopted this practice.
Both of them appeared either wholly without a
beard, or only with a few scattered hairs : And
both of them made it their practice to extract or
pluck them out with the roots. Something of
the same kind is practised by the Chinese.
The Tartar and the American had both con-
tracted the same wandering or roving disposi-
tion, contrary to the customs and dispositions
of most nations ; who seldom have any disposi-
tion to desert their connexions and country,
until they are compelled to it by necessity or
force. They had both adopted the same meth-
od of war ; wasting, destroying, and burning a
country. The custom of scalping the dead,
was one of the barbarous habits the Scythians
practised. They cut a circle round the nedks
of diose which they had slain, stripped off the
skin, and carried 'it with them in triumph. In
their marches, the Kamtschatkacs never went

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 229

abreast, but followed one another in the form
of the Indian file. The Toni^asi, the most nu-
mtrons nttion resideat in Siberia,, use canoes
mide of birch bark, distended over ribs of wood,
and nicdy sew-d to<?c-ther. In these customs
thty are exactly imitated by the Indians of A-
merica. In burying the dead, many of the A-
merican nation:, p;ace the corps at full length,
others place it in a sitting posture, and lay by
It the most valuable clothing, provision, and
arms. The lurtars did the same ; and both
people agreed in covering the whole with
earth, so as to form a tumulus or barrow. The
method, in which both people treated their near,
est friends and relations, was still more extra-
ordinary and u icommon. When their fathers
and nearest friends were become extremely old
and infirm, or were seized with a distemper
deemed incurable, it was the custom of the
Tartars to make a small hut for the patient, near
some river, and to supply it with a small quan-
tity of provisions ; Removing the sufferer to
such a situation, they left him to end his days,
without visiting or affording him any further
relief. The rudest tribes of the Americans, in
several parts of the continent, had the same cus-
tom ; and sometimes they made use of force to
extinguish the remains of life, in their diseased
and aged friends. Both people adopted this
custom, opposite to the practice of all other na-
tions : And they both viewed it in the same ■
hght, not as an act of cruelty, or of any disres-
pect ; but as a deed of duty, and mercy : And
they both assigned the same reason for it:
.' They were kindiy relieving their friends ffoia
voi. I. £ 2

250 NATURAL AND CIVIL

the increasing and unavoidable miseries of life ;
and they were assisting them in their journey to
the other country." Nor 'is it to be doubted
but that they assigned the true reason and mo-
tive, upon which they acted ; for no people were
ever known to pay a greater reverence to the
aged, or were more cntnusiastic in the venera-
tion they paid to the tombs and memories of
their ancestors.

Such customs are not derived from any nat-
ural appetite, or from any thiig peculiar to the
state of the hunter, or the savage ; but must be
deemed extraordinary, uncommon, and arbitra-
ry. Being found only among the men of Asia
and America, the presumption is, that they were
derived from the one to the other ; or that the
latter had taken them from the former.

4. In the empire of Peru, there were several
appearances of Chinese customs and manners.
The appearance, the dress, and the superior
knowledge, of Manco Capac and Mama OcoUo ;
the knowledge of agriculture and the arts, in
which the one instructed the men : the knowl.
edge of spinning, knitting, weaving, and mak-
ing garments of cotton, which the other diffused
among the vv^omen ; the high estim.ation which
the children of the sun assigned to agriculture,
above all other arts and professions ; their cus-
tom of tilling a field with their own hands ; the
ceremony with which the Inca began the busi-
ness in the spring ; the festivals which attended
it ; the unlimited authority of the emperor, with
the patriarchal aspect of the government ; the
beiievolcnt tendency of their laws, and wars ;
and their public regulations respecting roads^

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 231

bridges, canjils, industry, provision for the poof
.and aged, and the responsibility of parents for
the conduct of their children ; all, or most of
these articles, bore a greater resemblance to
Chinese maxims, manners, and customs, than
could have been acquired in America, during
the life of one man and woman, from their ovvn
observations and reasonings. They vvere ad-
vances towards a state of civilization, that no-^
thing in the degraded state of the Peruvians^
could have suggested, or produced, but in a
long period of time.

Much pains has been taken by many learned
and ingenious men, to compare the languages
of the Americans, with those qf other nations.
But while these inquiries have been carried on
with great assiduity, the most ancient language
which prtn-uiled in the east, the Scmskreet, '* the
parent of almost every dialect from the Persian
gulf to "die Ciiina seas,"* was itself wholly un-
knov/n : And no information has been derived
from these inquiries.

We must reason then from such circumstan-
ces as we can find : And if a jiidgnient can be
formed from a similarity of complexion, fea»-
tures, and customs, we shall be led to conclude
that the men of America were the same people
with the men of Asia ; but that, their descent,
was not from any particular one, but from seve-
ral nations on the eastern continent.

No difficulty could ever have attended such
emigrations. The continents of Asia and A-
jnerica approach so near to each other, that the

' c
• Preface to the Grammar of the Bengal Language, p. 3. Tfee £nS

tf antlatioQ frooi the Eanskreet kngu&gewas pubLuh^din 1715.

232 NATURAL AND CIVIL

inhabitants are frequently passing from the one
to the other. The cliscovtries of the Russians,
and the greater discoveries of the most celebra-
ted modern navigator, Captain Cook, ha\e made
it certain that if the two continents are sej. cra-
ted at all, it is only by a strait, not more than
eighteen miles in width. At no time within
the period of history, was the ni;vigation of the
rudest tribes unequal to the passage of such ^
strait. And probably there never has been any
difficulty, in passing from the one continent to
the other.

It is not improbable that the red men of
Asia, might find a passage into America alto-
gether by navigation. *' It has been long
li no wn that the Asiatic nation called the
Malayans^ possessed in former tim.es, much the
largest part of the trade of the Indies ; and
that their ships frequented, not only all the
coasts of Asia, but even those of Alrica, and
particularly the large island of Madagascar.
It has been more lately discovered, that the
same nation had extended their voyages and
migrations from Madagascar, to the Marquesas,
and Easter Island ; that is nearly from the east
side of Africa, until we approach the west coast
of America. This space includes almost one
half of the circurnfertnce of the globe. Thro*
this immense space the Malayans had spre^id,
made setlleuients, ard founded colonies in the
islands at all the intei mediate stages, at an im-
mense distance from the parent continent.
The vo} ages of Captain Cook have afforded
the proof of these historical facts: And tliej
have been asccrtahied not only by a similarity o^

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 235

Jnanners and customs, but by the affinity of
language, and a collection of similar words,
made from all the widely diffused islands and
countries visited by this celebrated navigator.'*

A PEOPLE who had thus spread over on©
half of the globe, from the coast of Afi ica to-
wards America, at^id who had settled all the isl-
ands that lay between them, could scarcely
have avoided arriving upon the western co^ist
of America, and leaving some of her people
there. Several of the islands that wtre settled,
were near the American coast ; and it must
have been much easier to have discovered the
continent along the western coast of America,
than to have found so many small and scattered
islands. It is therefore highly probable, that
the same people who spread over the islands in
the Pacilic ocean, should at times arrive also ou
the western shores of the continent. In both
these ways might people from different nations
in Asia, find a passige into America, and at
very different periods of time.

The Indians however, were not the only men
which appeared in America. Another race or
kind of men were settled in the northtrn pc-rts
of the continent. These have been called Es'
quimaux. In their colour, dimensions',' features,
and customs, they differed much from the red
jnen. They were of a fallow or brownish com-
plexion : Their size about four feet in height ;
their faces long and wrinkled ; their noses thick
and compressed ; their eyes small and sunk ;
their cheeks much raised ; their evebrows and-
eyehds thick ; with small legs anci hands.
This nation bad spread over the most nortiieva

234 NATURAL AND CIVIL

parts of America. They are found in Green,
land, on the coast of Labradore, in Hudson's
bay, and in ail the coasts and islands on the
west side of America, opposite to Kamtschatka.
Their migrations had extended to Norton's
sound, Onolashka, and prince William's sound ;
one thousand five hundred leas-ues from their
stations, in Greenland and Labradore. The
sameness of the people in these different
places, has been ascertained by their manners,
customs, features, and complexion ; but more
decidedly by such an affinity and similarity of
lang-uaj^e, as leaves no room for doubt. It will
be easy to determine from whence this nation
of tlie Esquimaux proceeded. Every thing in
the appearance of ihis people, denotes them to be
the same with the Laplaiiders, the Zemblans,
the Samojeds, and the Tartars in the east.---
Like them they are a nation of dwarfs ; largest
towards the south, but decreasing towards the
north. They have all the same fallow complex-
ion, deformed features, ugly appearance, and
singular customs. Whether the inhabitants^
could pass from the northern parts of Europe into
America by land is as yet unknov»ii. But the
passage by water, was at ail times easy ; and
certainly at a ^Try early period. In the voyage
from Norway to Iceland, and from Iceland to
Greenland, or the coast of Labradore, the first
part of the voyage w'as much the largest : And
this was practised from the earliest times, of
which we have any account. For the ninth
centur}'", when navigation was extremely imper-
fect, the passage from Europe to America was
^9 well understood, that the Nor^vegialis planted

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 235

and settled their colonies in Greenland. There
is but little room then to doubt but that the na-
tioFiofthe Esquimaux was derived from the
same people in the northwest parts of Europe.
Their descent therefore must have been from
the Tartars of Asia, for it was from them, that
the Laplanders, who are spread oyer the north-
western parts of Europe, uere derived. In the
year 1769, Pere Hall, an astronomer of Hungary,
was sent into Lapland to observe the transit of
Venus. This able philosopher had a goodoppor-
tunity to become acquainted with die manners,
customs, features, and languisge of the mhabi-
tants in that part of the globe : By his account,
« it appears that the Laplanders are onl> dcgen-
erate Tartars ; and that they, and the Hungari-
ans, originally sprung from the same breed of
men, and from the same country."^

The two kinds of men then that were in Amer-
ica were derived from the same source. The In-
dians and the Esquimaux, were both descenaed
from the man of Asia ; and probably the most
of them, from the same nation, the Tartars. In
America then nature had not made different ra-
ces of men, fitted for, and originally placed in
different climates. The men of America were
the same with the men of Asia : And both oi
them migrated from one place to another, and
spread through all the various climates of the
earth. They were distinguished by the ditter-
ences of complexion, dimension, features, arbi-
traiy customs, and peculiarities of manners, as
much as the inhabitants arc in other parts of the

• KaJm'» Sketcbe* of the Hi»l. of Mwi,I. p. ".

236 NATURAL AND CIVIL

globe. But these differences must have b-en
derived frora qli.natc, fooj, manner of livinL^
or some other circu r.3taiice ; for they certainly
were not derived from a diilerent origin, or any
particular local creation.

The constitution of man appears to be the
same, in every part of the globe. Nature has
given to him the same physical and moral pow-
ers, capable of different degrees of improvement
according to the state of society in which he
shall be placed. But in no country, or part of
the gfobe, does man aopear to be an animal of
climate. Among animals nothing is more ap.
parent, than that some are animals of climate ;
that is, they are fitted by nature and constitution
to some particular part of the globe ; where a.
lone they can subsist, multiply, and obtain their
proper perfection. Thus the animals peculiar
to the torrid and frigid zone, never leave their
particular climates out of choice ; and when a
change of climate is forced upon them, they de-
generate, and waste away. It is evident that
man is not such an animal. He can multiply,
and attain his proper perfection in all the vari-
ous climates of the earth. Nature has not fur-
nished him with any kind of covering, fitted to
a hot, to a temperate, or to a cold climate :
This is left to his own reason and industry, ac-
cording as his situation may require. Nor' has
nature assigned to him any particular, invaria-
ble colour. Black is the absence or want, and
white is the mixture of all colours : And these
are the extremes between which, all the various
complexions fall; Nature therefore has not as-
signed to maa any covering, or any invariable

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 237

colour, or any thing in his constitution, that has
fitted him particularly for the torrid, temperate,
or fric^id zone : But has given him a nature and
constitution, adapted to every climate. And in
every climate which produces his proper food,
the white, the red, and the black men, will sub-
sist, multiply, and attain their proper perfection.*
If nature has thus made man the animal of all
climates, w^ould it not be altogether unphilosoph-
ical, to look out for local creations ; or to intro-
duce miraculous interpositions of the Deity, to
explain those differences among men in other
places, which in America, we are certain were
derived from natural causes ?

Antk^uity. In attempting to estimate the
antiquity of the most polished nations, we can
derive but little information from history. No
records, no monuments, no writings can be
found, that reach back to so ancient a period.
Least of. all is this to h^ expected from a race
of savages, which had not the knowledge of let-
ters. All the information we can obtain, must
be derived from such circumstances and events,
as imply or denote certain periods of years ; and
of these there are but few, in the transactions of
the savage state.

Some information may be collected from the
extent of the country they had settled. The
continent of America, in its dimensions, amounts
to one third part of the habitable globe. Over
the whole of this continent had the savasres ex-
tended, when it was first discovered by Colum-
bus, in the year 1492* Their population had

* Appendix No. V.

VOL, I. F 2

258 NATURAL AND CIVIL

then attained its greatest perfection. No in-
crease of their numbers has any where appeared
to take place, since that time. No circumstance
or event has taken place during the three hun-
dred yeai^s, that the Europeans have been ac-
quainted with the Indians, which can lead us to
suspect that the savage state either has, or can
admit of a greater population, than what it had
already attained. Nor is it probable, that any
increase of numbers, and population, could have
taken place, while hunting continued to be the
method of procuring subsistence. From the
observations that Avere made in Virginia, and
Massachusetts, it has been computed that the
population of the Indians upon the sea coasts,
could not be estimated higher than one for eve-
ry square mile. In the inland parts of the coun-
try, the Indian population certainly did not ex-
ceed tliis. Geographers have computed the
number of square miles in America, to amount
to fourteen millions, one hundred and ten thou-
sand, eight hundred and seventy four. We can-
not make a nearer computation, than to suppose
this was about the number of Indians it requir-
ed in the hunter's state, to spread over the
■whole continent. How long a period would it
require, for the savages to increase to such a
number ? There has been no instance of a more
rapid increase, than that of the British colonies
in America. They were aided by new emigra-
tions from Europe : But so much were they
retarded and broke up in their settlements by
war, before the American revolution, that they
did not in fact double their numbers in thirty
years. The families of the Indians did not

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 239

contain more than half so many members, as
those of the white people. The Indian popula-
tion then will be highly estimated, if we com-
pute it to be one half of that of the white inhabi-
itants ; and instead of thirty, admit sixty years
as the period of doubling. Assuming the pop-
ulation to have proceeded from one male and
female, this would require thirteen centuries and
an half to have spread over the whole continent,
and produced one inhabitant to every square
mile. The period of population could not have
been less than this. But probably this period
was completed long before Columbus came in-
to America. The Indians in several places,
had gone out of the hunter's state. On the sea
coasts they w^re advancing into som.ething like
monarchy. In Mexico and Peru they were be-
come extremelv numerous, and had established
extensive and powerful empires ; the duration
of which, could be traced back four or five hun-
dred years. From their extent and population
then, we deduce with some degree of probabili-
tv, that the Indians must have been settled in
America eighteen centuries when Columbus
first discovered the continent. This will carry
us back three centuries before the christian era.
The number and variety oi their la?2guages
implies and requires a much longer duration,
and an higher antiquity. The Indians of A-
merica had not only spread over the continent,
but they had every where formed themselves
into a number of small tribes. If we may judge
of the number of these tribes from what took;
place in New England, and Virginia, they must
have amounted to thousands. Several of thesii

240 NATURAL AND CIVIL

tribes had subsisted so long in a national form,
and as a distinct people, that they had formed
a particular language for themseives. There
were three original languages spoken in Canada ;
the Sioux, the Huron, and the Algonquin.* In
New England, there were one or two others. f
In Virginia there were three, different from ei-
ther of these. | In Mexico thirty five were dis-
covered. In South America there were still
more. In Maraguon, the Portuguese counted
fifty. ^ In each of these places, the dialects were
nearl}'- as many as their tribes. And yet these
places made but a small part of the continent.
V/hat an immicnse period of time does this re-
quire ? A language may be separated into dif-
ferent dialects in a k\v srenerations : But for
these dialects to recede so far from one another,
as to lose all resemblance and affinity ; and sev-
eral new languages to be formed, radicall} dif-
fering from one another ; such an event could not
take place, or be effected, until the tribes had sub-
sisted for m.any centuries, as distinct and separate
nations. We cannot estimate this process by fixed
periods of time, because we have no facts from
which a computation can be made. But it may-
be compared to the state and progress of things,
in the other hemisphere : and we shall find the
number of languages radically differing from one
another, more numerous among the Americans,
than they were in Asia and Europe. Is not
this an indicaiion, that the red men of America
are as ancient as the other nations of the earth?

* Abbe Raynal, V. lo'!.

+ Hutchinson, I. 457, 479.

i Jtlitrson's NotLS on Virginia, p. 99.

^ Clavigero'sHist.of Meiaco.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 241

Learning and science they had none : But na-
ture, situation, and necessity, would operate as
certainly, and; as regularl}^ upon them, as upoa
any other people. And would it not require as
long- a period of time to produce, and to form a
language among the savages, as among any oth-
er people ? This circumstai'ice seems to denota
an antiquity, fully equal to that, which is claim-
ed by any of the nations of the other hemis-
phere.

Their antiquity may also be traced back to
the time, ivhen the most useful arts were iin-
known ; and when the red men of Asia had not
the use of the metals, or of domestic animals.
Some of the arts must have been nearly coeval
with the human race ; for neither food, raiment,
or habitations, could be procured without some-
thing of them. Other of the arts have been
gradually advancing, without owing much to
any original inventor. And many of ^'lem ar©
of such antiquity, that their origin and inventor
are beyond the reach of history. This is the
case with the most necessary and useful arts of
life. The origin of spinning, and knitting, of
the plough, the loom, and the forge, were more-
ancient than any of our historical monuments,
records, or traditions. But when those arts
were invented, they never could be lost. A-
midst the wars, changes, and revolutions, to
which nations are exposed, what are called the
fine arts may perish and be lost^ But no vicis-
situdes of human affairs tend to' destroy those
aits, iiy which ail men derive their subsistence ;
and which are equally necessary to the conquer-
or and to the captive^ to the oppressior and to

242 NATURAL AND CIVIL

the oppressed. The same observation may be
made with respect to the use of domestic ani-
mals. A people that have experienced the ad-
vantages derived from the food they afibrd, and
from the labour they perform, v,ould never
lose this kind of knowledge ; but endeavour
to apply it to such kind of animals, as they
found in the country to which they repaired.
Of all these, the Indians of America were igno-
rant. They knew not the use of the metals,
spinning, weaving, or the domestic animals :
They had derived no such knowledge from
their ancestors, nor had they acquired it them-
selves. At what period then, must they have
settled in America ? Before these arts were
known in Asia. Before the Scythians became
husbandmen, and before the most necessarv and
useful arts were known in the midst of Asia.
Without attempting therefore to go back to the
beginning of the creation of God, we can find
circumstances that will carry us as far back in-
to antiquity, as any other nation can pretend.
The history and pretensions of the Chinese, do
not imply or suppose any circumstances of
greater antiquity, than those which have been
mentioned. And it must be from circumstan-
ces and facts, not from tradition, that we must
trace the antiquity and origin of ancient nations.
Progress of Society. The progress of
society among the Indians, would make a curi-
ous, and most useful part of their history. The
rudest and most simple state that took place
among them, was that which I have been des-
cribing. Wheresoever the savages continued
to deriv-e their support from hunting-, they con-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 245

tinued from age to age in the same condition,
and made no improvements. Where the means
of subsistence were plentiful, and easy to be
procured, the Indians had advanced beyond the
state of an hunter, and began to increase their
numbers, and their agriculture. In such pla-
ces, society began to assume a difibrent form,
from what it bore in their rudest and most sim-
ple state. And the tendency of it was every
where to monarchy. In the southern parts of
New England, and Virginia, some of the tribes
were advancing fast to the form of hereditary
monarchy. In the hotter climates it was al-
ready established. This was the case in Floi-i-
da, among the Natchez on the Missisippi, in
Cuba, Hispaniola, and all the large islands. In
Bagota, Mexico, and Peru, monarchy had ac-
quired its perfect form, its full powers, and a
complete establishment. In each of these places,
the progress of govermiient had been from per-
fect freedom and independence, to almost abso-
lute and unlimited monarchy. In the course of
this progress, two remarkable , phenomena ap-
peared ; In one part of America, an empire and
a monarchy was established, in most respects
resembling those which had arisen in the oth-
er hemisphere. In another f)art of America,
an empire and a monarchy was produced,
far superior to those which were produced
in the other parts of the globe.

In the empire of Mexico, almost every thing
had taken the Asiatic, and European course.
The great body of the people were reduced to a
degraded and humiliating state ; and held their
lives, and performed their labours, under various

244 NATURAL AND CIVIL

names and dec^rees of degradation and abase.*
ment. A body of nobility were possessed of
ample territories, of great privileges, powers^
and honours, under different names and degrees.
Above, and over all, was the monarch, enjoying
supreme power and dignity. After being elee-
tive during the reign of eleven of their sover-
eigns, the monarchy was becbm.e almost abso-
lute and hereditary, in Montezuma. ^Fhe sys-
tem of religion agreed perfectl}^ well to the na*
ture of the government : It was severe, cruel,
and barbarous ; and delighted in the sprinkling
and shedding of blood : Human sacrifices of all
others were esteemed the most acceptable, and
availing ; and the priests bad the privilege, the
honour, and the profit, of announcing or remov-
ing the vengeance of the gods. This system of
monarchy had acquired a stability, a regularity,
and a \^igcur, equal to any monarchy that was
then upon the earth. Upon comparing the
spirit of m.onarchy, untempcred by representa-
tion, in America, in Asia, and in Europe ; the
spirit and the principles of it, Vvill be found eve-
ry v.'here to have operated alike. It degrades
the bod}- of the people below the condition, and
nature of man. It exalts the nobles and the
sovereign above the condition and state, \\hich
nature designs or admits. In one form or an-
other it has aluays been attended with a perse-
cuting, cruel, and bloody religion, put into the
b mds of a wealthy, and powerful priesthood.
l'^^ has constantly produced the spirit of war and
destruction ; and j?cnerallv derived to itself se-
curity, wealth, and power, from the misery, de-
struction, and blaughter, it has emailed on tlic

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 245

human race. By placing the rulers in a situa-
tion altogether unnatural, that is, above all sense
of accountability to their fellow men, it has pro-
duced that constant, steady, and universal abuse
of power, which, in every part of the globe, has
been the distinguishing and certain effect of
this form of government. Its spirit and prin-
ciple have every where been the same ; not the
honour which the great Montesquieu wished to
ascribe to it, and wanted to find in it, but that
total want of regard and accountability to man,
which, with great accuracy and propriety, has
been lately named a contempt of the people.

The empire of Peru was formed and govern-
ed by a species of monarchy, different from
what has ever taken place among any other
people. Twelve successive monarchs, for a
period of more than four hundred years, had
been invested with hereditary and absolute
power. They claimed this authority, not as
derived to them in any manner or degree from
the people, but as the absolute and exclusive
donation of heaven. They announced them-
selves to be the children of the sun, and clothed
with divine and unlimited power to direct all
the civil and religious affairs of the people. The
sovereign Avas named Inca ; and so sacred and
pure were the family of the Inca's, in the minds
of the people, that they were universally esteem-
ed incapable of committing a crime, or falling
into an errour : No other family might many
or mingle with it, for fear of polluting the heav-
enly blood. The people looked up to them, as
to beings of a superior and heavenly race : And
all disobedience to them, was viewed not barely

VOL. J. G 2

346 Natural and civil

as a crime committed against men, but as an
act of rebellion against God. The nobility of
course was nothing more than families of office.
Though a difference of rank had taken place
throughout the empire, all but the children of
the sun, were supposed to belong to the com-
mon race of men. The people were welL cloth-
ed, and fed ; every where distinguished for
their industry, economy, moderation, content-
ment, and happiness. Over this people, the
Incas, though absolute in power, established a
government the most mild and gentle, that has
ever taken place in any part of the earth. The
morals of the people -were so pure, that few
crimes were ever committed : The genius of
the government was so mild, that few punish-
ments were ever executed : And w-hen they
were, they were viewed as the necessary acts of
God, and not of men. Their government, the
dominion of prosperity and virtue, was esteem-
ed by the people the dominion of God and his
Inca. Their system of religion, like their gov-
ernment, was mild, gentle, and pacific. The
sun, the emblem of light, serenity, fertility,
beneficence, joy, and life, was the object of
their adoration. They offered to him a part of
those productions, which they derived from
cultivating the earth, enriched by his genial
warmth. They presented to him specimens of
those works of ingenuity, which they had per-
formed oy his light. And they brought to him
some of those animals, which were nourished
by his influence. But the Inca never stained
their altai's with human blood ; or admitted the
Ravage idea, that the source of beneficence could

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 247

4

he pleased with the persecution, crueUy, and
destruction of men. Their system of war par-
took of the same spirit of mildness, and wisdom.
Tliey fought not to exterminate, but to con-
quer : they conquered not to enslave, but tp
improve, to civilize, and refine. No cruel tor-
ture awaited the captive. No barbarous marks
of degradation, disgrace, triumph, or slaverj-',
were reserved for the prisoners. They were
taught the same system of government and re-
ligion, as the rest of the people : they were ad-
mitted to the same privileges ; and treated with
the same lenity and mildness. Of all the tri-
umphs of the Inca, the noblest and the greatest,
was to diffuse the manifold blessings of peace
and happiness, to the people whom they had
subdued,.

Such was the genius, the spirit, and the ef-
fect, of the system of monarchy that was estab-
lished in Peru. We need not hesitate to pro-
nounce it superior to any, that was then to be
found upon the face of the earth. The genius
and the spirit of it, were above all others, mild
and gentle : the object and the aim of it, were
in face, the improvement and the happiness of
the people. And if any government ever pro-
duced this effect, that government was the
monarchy of Peru : Not the attainment of the
most polished nations of Asia, and Europe, of
their arts, science, and improvement ; but of
the gi-eater wisdom and simplicity of the In-
dians, and Incas of America.

We have here a phenomenon, new, and al-
most incredible in the political world. Abso^
lute, unlimited, ^d hej'editary monarchy, whick.

243 NATURAL AND CIVIL

has never failed before or since to prove one of
tlie heaviest curses, \vhich has fallen upon man-
kind ; in Peru became mild, gentle, and beneiS-
cent : And was constantly employed during the
reign of twelve successive monarchs, to refine,
civilize, and improve the people ; and to do the
greatest good to mankind. And yet this was a
system not founded in truth, or in nature ; but
in delusion and superstition. What could give
it a direction so steady, uniform, and benevolent?
Not the form, but the principle of it. It con-
tained the. best and the purest principle, that
can enter into the nature of human government.
Its origin, duration, and power, depended whol-
ly upon the public sentiment. The Inca claimed
immediate descent, and relation to the sun.
The sun was the emblem of peace, and benevo-
lence. Had the monarch stained his chai-acter
by enormity in crimes and vices, or by a con^
stant abuse of power, nature w^ould have taught
the Peruvians that monsters in corruption, vice,,
and ci-uelt)*, could not have been the favourite
children of the Deitv. If the Inca had been
viewed in this light, all his diA'inity, and his
power would have ended. His power was
founded altogether in the opinion the people
had formed of his clivine descent, qualifications^
character, and virtues. So solicitous had the
Incas been to preserve this opinion, that through
the whole period of their successions, they had
taken the most scrupulous care not to endanger
or oppose it, by any base and unworthy conduct.,
And while they thus proved the constant friends
and benefactors of the people, the public esteem
?iicl veneration increased. In the benevolence

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 249

and usefulness of the Inca, the people believed
they saw the children of the sun : And in the
affections and opinions of the people, the Inca
found an absolute and unlimited power. But
if his conduct had plainly discovered that instead
of being the child of the sun, he was the child
of folly, of vice, and abominable iniquity, his
divinity, his power, and his empire would have
ceased with the public opinion.

Instead then of being founded in a con-
tempt of the people like the empire of Mexico,
the monarchy of Peru had the singular good
fortune of being founded in the public senti-
ment. This rendered the Inca accountable to
the people for every part of his conduct : And
this sense of accountability would keep a con-
stant sense of duty and character upon his mind.
Thus under the form of absolute hereditary-
monarchy, the government of Peru had the un-
common advantage of excluding nobility with
all its odious distinctions and claims ; and of
embracing the best and purest principles, upon
which civil government can ever be founded.
The Indians seem to have been the only peo-
ple, among whom, a regard to the public senti-
ment and benefit, did in fact constitute the
spirit and principle of hereditary and absolute
monarchy.

Tendency to Dissolution. However
beautiful and promising the progress of society
once was among the Indians of America, it is
now every where tending to decay and dissolu-
tion ; and this has been its tendency, ever since
the first arrival of the Europeans. In the de-
fitruction of tlie empires of ^lexico, and Peru,

35(5 NATURAL AND CIVIL

Cortcz and Pizarro performed the most accursi
ed transactions that ever were done by man.
And wherever the Europeans have settled,
misery, calamity, and destruction, have been en-
tailed on that unhappy race of men. The viqes
we have taught them, the diseases we have
spread among them, the intemperance they have
learnt of us, and the destruction of, their game,
are evils for which the savage is unable to find
a remedy. A contempt of our morals, a horrour
at the knavery that has attended our commerce
^vith them, and the constant advances we hav«
made ii'ito their countn% have filled their minds
with prejudices against our arts and improve-
ments. This, added to the frequency and bit-
terness of their wars, to their constant hardships
and suiferings, and to a defective population^
but too plainly denote the event. The constant
w^aste and decay of this people, must end in
tlieir total destruction : According to the pre-
sent course and tendency of things, in two or
three centuries, the whole race must become
extinct. Instead of wishing for such an event,,
it would add to the glory of the United States
to make a serious attempt to prevent it. It has
been the practice of arbitrary governments to
sport with the liberties, and lives of men. A
government of reason and nature • ought to at-
tempt to conciliate the affections of a free, brave,
independent, and generous people. It would be
a greater glory than we have ever yet attained,
if we could find out a way to impart the bles-
sings of the civil state, to a people whose great*
est miseries and misfortunes have been derived
from the superior arts, the policy, and the povTs
er of civilized nations.

HISTORY or VERMONT. 2^t

CHAPTER IX.

First Settlements and Wars with tne
Indians. Earliest accounts of the Northern
Indians. Discoveries and settlements in their
eountry by the French. Origin and progress
of JVar betxveen the natives and the Europe-
ans. Influence of the Priests. French Ex- ;
peditions. Proceedings of the Governor of
Newyork. Destruction of Montreal by the
Iroquois e. From the year 1535 ^o 1689.

SUCH were the men who were spread
over the northern parts of America in the fif-
teenth century. It does not appear that any
other men but the Indians had ever been in the
country, previous to that time. On October
the 12th, 1492, by astonishing efforts of genius
and perseverance, Columbus, discovered the
western hei#isphere, at the island of Guanahana*
Among all his discoveries the most importj^it,
was that of a new race of men ; of men in their
appearance, manners, habits, and customs, very
different from the inhabitants of the eastern
hemisphere. Influenced by the spirit of curi-
osity, enterprize, avai'ice, and ambition, the
subjects of the Spanish monarchy embarked in
great numbers to the southern parts of Ameri-
ca ; visited the natives, subdued the accessable
parts of their country, and planted them with
the men of Europe. These attempts and meas-
ures every where produced the same effects,
bloody and barbarous wars, between the men of
'^he twp continents j uow for the first time, iiif

252 NATURAL AND CIVIL

termixing and mingling together.

While the court of Spain was carrying its
conquests, and advancing its interest in the
southern parts of America, the courts of France
and England turned their attention to the nor-
tliern paits of the continent ; and endeavored iii
those regions to find avenues equally favorable
to commerce, conquest, wealth, and power.
Francis the first, at that time king of France,
was one of the most active princes of the age ;
and though constantly involved in wars and
misfortunes he did not intend that the kings of
Spain and England should divide the whole
continent of America between themselves.
With a view to explore the northern latitudes,
and to find a place for a French colony, he fitted
out James Cartier on a voyage of discovery,
Cartier sailed from St. Malo, on the 20th of
April 1534 ; and in the course of the summer
entered the mouth of Canada rive;j^ visited the
bay of Chaleur, and that of Gaspe ; and from
th?hce sailed to the northward, till he discover-
ed the land on the opposite side of the river.
Having made these discoveries he returned to
France, and arrived at St. Malo on the fifth of
September.

The next year he was fitted out with three
ships, and arrived at the isle of Orleans, in the
beginning of September, and came to anchor
between the island and the north shore. To the
river he gave the name of St. Lawrence ; and
leaving his ships at anchor on September the
19th, he set out with his pinnace and two boats
upon a voyage up the river to Hochelaga ; where
he arrived October the second, and gave to the

ttlSTOnV OF VERMONT. 253

place the name of Montreal, by which it has ev*
cr since been denoted*

Instead of meeting with hostilities at either
j)lace, Cartier was received bj the natives with
all the demonstrations of joy, which they were
able to exhibi^t. At Hochelaga the Indians had
intelligence of his approach, and made prepara-
tions to give him the most friendly reception.
The savages^ to the number of about a thou-
■and, came forward in a body to bid him wel-
come to their country. The men were on one
Bide, the women on the other, and the children
in a body by themselves ; and the whole came
forward singing and dancing, with every ap^
pearance of the highest confidence and joy. To
their new guests, the Indians made presents of
corn, fish, and such other kind of provisions as
they had ; in return, the Frenchmen gave
knives, beads, and other trinkets. The first
night the Europeans lodged in their boats, and
the natives watched on the shore, dancing all
night round their fires.

The next day Cartier with twenty five of his
company set out on a visit to the Indian town*
He was met on his way by a man, who appear-
ed to be one of their chiefs ; and whose business
it was, to introduce him to the capital of their
country. Cartier presented to the Indian chief
two hatchets, two knives, and a cross, which he
hung over the Indians neck, and taught him to
kiss. Passing from the river towards the town,
the French went through groves of oak, the
acorns of which were fallen, and were so nume-
rous as to cover the ground. They passed al-
so through fields of cor;i, some of it gathered^

TOL. I, H 21

254 NATURAL AND CIVIL

and all ripe. In the midst of these fields of corn J
and surrounded by them, was the Indian capi*
tal, Hochelaga.

The construction and state of the town dis-
covered a degree of improvement, of which Cartier
had before met with no specimen in the Indian
country, and had no expectation to find from
the Indian genius. It was laid out in a circular
form, and was surrounded with three lines of
palisadoes ; through these palisades there was
but one passage or place of entrance, and that
was well secured both with stakes and bars.
Oil the inside, the fortification consisted of what
in the European language was called a rampart
of timber, to which the ascent was by ladders ;
heaps of stones were also collected, and placed
in such situations as would best serve the pur-
poses ,of strength or defence. Within these
fortifications there were about fifty Indian hous-
es : these houses were a kind of long huts,
built with stakes, and covered with the bark of
trees. In the middle of each Indian house there
was a fire place ; and around the sides were the
lodging or sleeping places,, the floors of which
were bark, and the covering made of skins. In
the upper parts of the houses were scaffolds, on
which they placed and dried their corn. Their
provisions were corn, beans, squashes, pump-
kins, and fish. Their corn they pounded in a
kind of wooden mortars, and when beat mixed
with water, and- -baked on hot stones. Their
fish was dried in the sun, or in their houses,
and preserved in troughs. Their squashes and
pumpkins were genemlly consumed while they
remained green. At Hochelaga the people ap^

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 255

peared to derive their chief subsistence from
fishing and tillage, but in the lower parts of the
river, hunting seemed to be the chief employ-
ment : But at both places, the sachem, or chief
man of Hochelaga was considered as the sover-
eign, to whom the people were in subjection,
and paid tribute.

In the centre of the town there was a large
open squai'e : to that place Cartier and his com-
pany was conducted, and mats were spread on
the ground for the new guests to sit on. The
Indian men seated themselves in a large circle
round them ; but the women came weeping,
with joy, rubbing their hands and faces, and
bringing tlieir children to be touched by their'
new visitors. At length the sovereign, the In-
dian King, was brought on the shoulders of ten
men, and placed on a mat next to Cartier. The
monarch of the savages had a covering made of
the quills of the porcupine, died red ; this he
took off and gave to the French captain, request-
ing him at the same time to rub his arms and
legs, which were much affected with a palsy.
Several other persons declining with age or
sickness, were also brought to be touched and
healed by the strangers. Cartier saw at once
that the Indians viewed him and his company
as gods ; 6r at least as a race of beings far su-
perior to tliemselves ; and resolved to avail
himself of their weakness and superstition. He
laid his hands on them, cast his eyes to heaven,
repeated some devotional passages from his ser-
vice book, and assumed such features and ges-
tures as he supposed would most engage and*
affect a savaee miud and tribco The , Indians

256 NATURAL AND CIVIL,

attentively observed all his motions and ges*
tures, and endeavored to imitate and repeat
them.

This farce being finished, Cartier proceeded
to exhibit more substantial proofs of his benevo-
Icnce and power. He signified to the multi«
tude that he wished the men, women, and chil-
dren, would divide themselves into separate
companies. The natives immediately made
such an arrangement. To the men Cartier then
made a present of hatchets, to the women he
presented a quantity of beads, and to the children
he gave a multitude of rings. The moment
ihese donations were ended, he ordered his
iirums to beat, and the trumpets to sound. As-
tonished but delighted with the scene the sava-
ges shouted, and the whole company fell to
dancing. What could be wanting to convince
die multitude that their new guests were gods,,
mil of benevolence and power ?

Cartier next proposed to ascend the hill,,
finder which the town w^as built. The Indians.
iOnducted hira to the summit, and pointed out
to him the course of the river above their town ;
and informed him that he might sail on it for
three moons without coming to an end : that
it ran through two or three lakes ; that beyond
them there was a sea of fresh water, to which
they knew of no limits ; that on the other side
of the mountains there was another river Mhich
ran to the southwest, through a countr}^ in
which there was no ice or snow i and that there
were such metals as silver, ^old, and copper, to,
be found in the country. Having obtained all
tbe information which he expected, Cartier pre-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 257

pared to depart, and left Hocbclaga October the
fourth. The natives accompanied the French
to their boats, carried such of them as were sick
upon their shoulders, and followed them along
the banks of the river to a considerable distance ;
discovering the marks of sorrow and distress at
their departure. On October the eleventh Car-
tier and his company arrived safe at the isle of
Orleans, where he tarried that winter, and at^
tempted to found a colony, but which was soon
broke up.

From this voyage, the first tliat had ever
been made into the interior parts of North A-
merica, the manners and dispositions of the na*
tives became in some measure known. It was
found that the Indians were divided into many
distinct tribes or nations ; which, instead of
being in a state of union or confederation among
themselves, were generally in a state of hostility
and war. Among other proofs of their hostility
to each other, Cartier found at the isle of Or-
leans the scalps of five men, spread out, and
dried like parchment. These, he was told were
taken from some of the southern Indians, with
whom they were constantly at variance ; and
that the scalps of their enemies were considered
as the most honorable evidence of their own
prowess and exploits in war. But with respect
to their new visitors, instead of any appearances
of suspicion, fear, or hostility, they were every
where received with the tokens of friendship,
confidence, and the highest expectations of un-
common benefit and advantage from their visit-
ations. Instead of making any preparations to
appose, the natives received thiera with the high-

258 NATURAL AND CIVIL '

est marlis and efTusIons of joy, as beings of a
superior order, from whose benevolence and
power they expected to receive uncommoii
benefits and advantages. Nor was it till the^
Europeans began their enterprizes of" injustice
and violence that the natives had any fear or
suspicion, or made any preparations either for
defence or hostility,*

The colony attempted by Cartier having
failed, no further attempt was made either to.
explore, or to make any settlements in the in-
terior parts of Canada, till the year 1603. That
year a voyage was undertaken by Samuei.
CHAMPLAiN,a man of a noble family in France,
He sailed up the river St. Lawrence as for as
Cartier had proceeded in 1535, and visited the
places which that celebrated navigator had de-
scribed. Passing the isle of Orleans he came
to anchor at a place called Quebec, which in the
lano-uasre of the natives denoted a strait. Cham-
plain remarked that this place might be ap-
proached by the largest vessels, that it was sur-
rounded by water on three of its sides, had a
situation elevated and commanding ; and that
with a little labor it might be made a place of
gi-cat strength, and was in every view a fit place
to erect a fort, and begin a settlement. He
then proceeded up the river to Hochelaga or<
J«>Iontreal, and made many inquiries of the na-»
tives respecting t'lcir country, its rivers, lakes,
productions, and inhabitants. W'^ithout fear or
suspicion, and with the most artless simplicity,
ihe Indians informed him that there was a com-

• Hakluyt Vol. 3, g. aol— 209. American Biography Vol. I, page,
ijS— 1S4.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 25^

inunlcation to the south, by means of the lakes
with a fertile country, which belonged to a
powerful and warlike nation called the Iroquoise ;
that there were several and large lakes to the
West, to one of which they knew of no bounds ?
and that to the north there was a large inland
sea of salt water, the limits of which were also
unknown. Having obtained this information,
Champlain returned to France to communicate
his discoveries to the government ; and to pro-
cure assistance and supplies, to effect a settle-
ment in the country.

In 1607 the establishment of a colony on the
river St. Lawrence, became an object of serious
attention to the court and merchants of France.
It was concluded that such a colony would ex-
tend the fur trade^ and open a communication
to China through the western lakes ; and thus
serve to benefit the kingdom, and to enrich the
adventurers. Encouraged by diese expectations,
several vessels were fitted out in the year 1608,
to begin a colony. Cliamplain had the com-
mand. He arrived at the place called Quebec^
in the beginning of July. In his former voyage
he had fixed upon this, as the most eligible
place for a settlement, and upon his arrival he
immediately began to cut down the trees, to
clear up the land, to erect buildings, and pre-
pare the soil for gardens and fields. At that
place he spent the winter with his company, in
the course of which they suffered much from
the severity of the climate, and the prevalency
of the scurvy.

Having began his colony at Quebec, in the
spring of the year 1609 Champlaia set out to-

S60 NATURz\L AND CIVIL

explore the southern lake, which the Indiant
informed him opened a communication with the
warlike nation of the Iroquoise. Taking with
him a party of the natives, and two Frenchmen^
he went up the river now called Sorel, and ex-
plored both the southern lakes. To the largest
of these he gave his own name, Champlain, by
"which it is still known. To the other he gave
the name St. Sacrament, but which has since
been called Lake George. On the shore of the
latter, Champlain with his company was dis-
covered by a party of the Iroquoise. Between
these Indians and those at Hochelaga, a war had
long subsisted, and a skirmish now took place.
The Frenchmen v/ere armed with musquets,
and Champlain killed two of the Iroquoise him-
self, wuth that weapon. This was probably the
first time the Iroquoise had ever seen the effect
of the European arms, and the victory over
them seems to have been compleat. The whole
party were put to flight, and the scalps of fifty
of them were taken and carried in triumph to
Quebec.

In the fall Champlain returned to France,
and caitie again to Quebec in 1610 ; but so
slow was the progress of his colony that it was
not till 1626 that Quebec began to assume the
Appearance of a city, or had any other fortifica-
tions than those of wood. That year the for-
tress was rebuilt of stone ; and preparations
were made to defend the place not only against
the natives, but lest some of the European ves-
sels should approach, and attempt to carry the
works. Nor were the preparations needless : A
war had broken out between Charles I. king of

HiSTORY OF VERMONT. 261

tenglatid, and Lewis XIII. king of France ; and
as the -E iglish were carrying on their settle-
inents with e^reat appearance of success in Vir"

f'mia and MismchusettSy it was propo»ed in the
/Iglish cabinet, to attack the French settlements
in North America. In 1629 an armament was
fitted out in England for this purpose, and the
command given to Sir David Kirk. He saile<!S
tip the river St. Lawrence and appeared with his
ships before Quebec. The city was in no con-
dition to resist his force, and Champlain was
obliged to capitulate. Agreeably to the articles
of capitulation, Champlain was sent to France
in an English vessel. If he was mortified by
the capitulation, he was more mortified by find-
ing that his new colony was an object of but
little consideration in France ; and that the loss
of it was scarcely regretted.

Many thought it was not worth retaining^
that it had already been attended with an ex-
ipcnce far above its value, andprob; b.y the case
"would be the same in future. Others were of
opinion that the far trade and fishery were na-
tional objects of real consequence, and that the
settlement of Canada was the sure method of
increasing their importance, and would serve as
a nursery for seamen, and thus eventually prove
highly beneficial to navigation and commerce.
The councils of Lewis XIII. were so little ac-
quainted with the advantages arising from colo-
nies,' or with the value of their settlements in
Canada, that they did not think it an object of
any consequence to demand the restitution ;
and it was more a sense of honor than a regard
to interest that led them to wish for the restora-

VOL. I. I 2

262 NATURAL AND CIVIL

tion of the country ; having lost it by what thty
esteemed an English encroachment on their
claims, pride and honor urged the French court
to effect the recovery of a country, which yet
they believed was of little or no value. Cham*
plain availed himself of these sentiments and
feelings, and as the English monarch did not
concern himself much about the matter, the so-
licitations of Champlain prevailed ; and by the
treaty of St. Germain's, Canada, Acadia, and
Cape Breton, were restored to France in the
vear 1632.

Ha VI NG obtained the restoration of the coun-
try, Champlain resumed his favorite go\ ernment
and employment, and continued zealously en-
gaged in the affairs of the colony till the month
of December 1635 ; at which time he died gov-
ernor of the col-^ny, of which twenty seven years
before he had been the founder. Chamiplain is
represented by the writers of that time, as a
man of much penetration, integrity and activity.
He could not have succeeded in founding his
nev/ colony, if he had not been active, enterpri-
zing, firm and brave. The Ecclesiastical wri-
ters represent him as a man of great piety, and
remarkably zealous for the propagation of the
catholic religion ; and they record with great
pleasure, one of Iiis speeches, that " the salvation
of one soul was of morcralue than the conquest
of an empire." The work in which he was en-
gaged, required great abilities, and great virtues ;
ivithout these he could not have succeeded in
establishing a new city and colony in the midst
of numerous, warlike, and savage nations."^"

• Charlevoii Hist. Nouv. France, Tom. i. p. 19;. Abbe Raynii!>
Vel. i. i>. 130. AjRwr. Biography, Vol. I. p. 34i'

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 263

In all countries, the succeeding state of so-
ciety seems naturally to result from the meas-
ures and pursuits of an earlier policy. While
zealously engaged in promoting the welfare of
his new colony, it was the misfortune of Cham-
plain to entail upon it the miseries and curses of
war. Three of the most powerful of the savage
nations, the Iroquoise, the Algonquins, and the
Hurons, were engaged in a fierce and bloody
war when Champlain was laying the foundations
of Quebec.

The Iroquoise were spread over an extent of
country, nearly eighty leagues in length, and
more than forty in breadth. Their country-
reached to lake Erie, lake Ontario, the river St.
Lawrence, and the countries which now belong
to the States of Pennsylvania and Ne\vyork.
To the eastward it took in lake Champlain, and
the western parts of Vermont, and the Indians
on the banks of Susquehanna, Delaware, Hud-
son, and Connecticut rivers, were in a kind of
subjection to them. The land between these
extensive limits was fertile, abounded with
game, and was watered by a number of fine
rivers, rich in the plenty and variety of their
fish. The inhabitants consisted of five nations,
and contained many thousand warriors. Their
five nations were formed into an united or con-
federate body, which oore the appearance of a
number of confederate republics. In the grand
council of the whole all the affairs of peace and
war, and other general concerns were determin-
ed. These confederate tribes or five nations,
formed a more powerful body than any of the
adjacent nations. They were generally at war

364 NATURAL AND CIVIL.

with the neighboring tribes, and on account of
their numbers, p^er, and conquests, were
become the objects of fear, dread, and aversion,
to the other nations.. At the time when the
French were forming their colony in Canada^
the five nations of the Iroquoise were engaged
in a war with the Algonquins and Hurons.
The Algonquins lived along the banks of the
river from Quebec to Montreal. The Hurons
were dispersed about the lake that bears their
name. These, with some other tribes of less
consequence, had sufFtrtd severely from the
inroads of the Iroquoise i and were unable to
make effectual opposition to their arms.

Instead of attempting to introduce a recon^
ciliation among these hostile nations, Cham-^
plain meaning to avail himself of their quarrels,
50on engaged in their wars,^ He took a decided
part with the Algonquins, and went himself
with the Hurons in their expeditions against the
Iroquoise : He instructed them how to carry-
on their wars, was pcrsonall)* engaged in several
of their battles, and in one of them received a
wound not a little dangerous to his life.

The Indians saw with wonder and surprise
the effect of the European arms, in the attacks
which Champlain had made upon the Iroquoise
at lake Sacrament, and other places. The Al-
gonquins and Hurons soon gave a friendly at-
tention to the new settlers, and meant by their
assistance to gain the superiority over their an-
cient and haughty foes. Of course they favor-
ed the settlement of the French, give thtm
lands, courted their friendship, ai d hivitcd them
to settle ill Lvery part of th&ii country -, aiiU by

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 265

their assistance they obtained many and repeat-^
cd advantages over the Iroquoise. Nor was it
until the five nations became accustomed to the
effect of the European arms, that they could
make any effectual opposition to an enemy,
whonni they had before defeated and despised.
But instead of being subdued or disheartened
by the new method of war, it served rather to
inflame the haughty Iroquoise with the fiercest
resentment against the French, They viewed
the strangers who were settling in the country,
as the most dangerous of all their enemies ; andi
it became the first and most important of all
objects to carry on a destructive, uinceasing,
and exterminating war with them.

The French were gradually extending their
settlements upon the river St. Lawrence, and
advancing further and further into the Indian
country. In about ten years from the settle-
ment of Quebec, they began the foundations of
a fort and village at Trois Rivieres ; and in
1640 they began a fortress and town at Mon^
treal. Wherever they went, they assisted and
encouraged the Algonquins ; and they met
with a steady and bitter enemy in the Iroquoise,
The hostile Indian nations were an enemy,
which the five nations wished to subdue ; but
the French were every where the chosen vic-
tims, and the objects of their inveterate hatred.
To have taught a despised enemy how to con-
quer, to have introduced among them weapons
every way superior to their own, were crimes
which the fierce and savage temper of the
hiiUghtiest of all the Indian nations, could not
forgive or endure. Thus by interieriiig in the

866 NATURAL AND CIVIL

quaiTCis of the natives, the French had brought
upon themselves a fierce and bloody war, with
the most powerful of all the Indian nations ; and
produced an enmity, which appeared to be fix*
ed, permanent, and obdurate ; and such as the
revenging spirit would endeavor to transmit
from one generation to another.

In the destruction occasioned by these
wars, in the coldness of the climate, in the im-
mense quantity of labor necessary to effect the
settlement of the country, and in the fewness
and poverty of the Europeans, there were caus-
es which rendered the French settlements ex-
tremely slow in their growth, and very precari-
ous as to their duration. In addition to these
difficulties, the five nations wxre now become
accustomed to the effect of the European arms,
had procured some of them, and regained their
customary superiority over their ancient ene-
mies. Surrounded with so many difficulties,
the French M'^ere full of apprehensions that the
time was not far distant, when they should be
forced to abandon the country. Their Indian
allies whom they had once taught to conquer,
were now continually fiyinq; before their ancient
enemies, whom they had been accustomed to
dread. And the Iroquoise, feeling the anima-
tion of their regained superiority, were become
more fierce and insolent than ever : and were
loudly boasting that the)^ v.ould not only sub-
due their former enemies, but that they would
soon force tlie French to leave their country, or
put them all to death.

In this distress the court of France interfer-
ed to save the colony. A body of fovr hun-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. ^67

dred good troops were sent from France, in the
year 1662; and these, in two years more, were re-
inforced with the regiment of Carignan. With
this force, the courage and hopes of the colony
revived. M. Courcelles, the governor of Cana--
da, supposed it would have a good effect, to
carry the war into the country of their enemies t
With this view in 1665 he sent out a large par-
ty against the Mohawks, one of the five nations*
The expedition was undertaken in the winter :
Through ignorance of the country, and the want
of proper snow-shoes, tlie whole army were near
perishing, when they accidentally fell in with
Schenectadv, a Dutch settlement on the Mo-
hawk river. At Schenectady, tlie whole party
were in the utmost danger of being destroyed
by the Mohawks. What prevented, was the
interposition of one Corlear, a Dutchman. And
such an impression was made on the minds of
the Indians, by tlie preservation which this man
had afforded them, that they never forgot either
his friendship, or his name. In all their trea-
ties ever after, with the governors of Newyork,
they always addressed them by the name of
Corlear • an expression, in their view, signifi*
Cant of kindness, friendship, and confidence.

To retrieve the misfortunes of their wintel"
expedition, in the spring of 1666, twenty light
companies of foot, with all the militia of Cana-
da, marched into the Mohawk country. Their
march was attended widi great expence, and
fatigue ; and continued for more than seven
hundred miles, through an uncultivated and
hostile country ; but did not prove destructive
of many of their enemies. At the approach cf

'^

268 NATURAL AND CIVIL

the French, the Indians easily found places of
safety, by retirinj^ into the woods and swamps,
where the French army could not follow them-.
Nothing was to be found but a few of their old
sachems, who were super-annuuted and weary
of their lives, to gratify the fury of their ene-
rnies. The result however was favorable to
both parties. The French, exhausted with the
ex pence and fatigue of the campaign, and mor-
tified by the want of success, did not wish to
repeat the experiment of another expedition in
the Indian country. The Indians were not
pleased to see the war brought into the heart of
their own country, nor could they yet oppose a
large body of men armed and disciplined in the
European manner, with much prospect of suc-
cess. While both parties thus wished to put an
end to hostilities, it would not be difficult to
find reasons, ways, and means, to effect a recon-
ciliation. In this disposition of their minds,
they agreed to put an end to their wars ; and in
the year 1667, concluded a treaty of peacC)
which continued for several years.

This was the first time that the French co-
lony had ever enjoyed a compleat peuce. Both
the English and the French immediately em-
braced the opportunity to conciliate the affec-
tions, and to cultivate a trade among the na-
tives ; and their interest lead them to urge it,
with much zeal and address. Af that time the
trade with the natives was attended with much
profit and advantage to all parties. The French
in Canada, and the English at Albany and Sche-
nectady, were as yet too remote from each oth-
er, and too few in numbers, to occabion any

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 26?

considerable differences, or inters :rence in the
Indian trade. And the Indians who lived be-
tween the two countries, availed themselvea of
the best markets and terms which th-^y couid
find ; asserting in a wise and .practical m^jiner
the doctrine of their independence, liberty, and
equality with any of the Europ^^an colonies.
M. Courcellcs however was not inaciive during
this season of peace. He easily foresaw that a
peace with the savages, could be of but a sliort
duration ; and he was extremely active in ma-
king preparations for the future defence of
Canada. To prevent the irruptions of the Iro-
quoise' into Canada, by tlie v/ay of lake Cham-
plain, in 1665 he built the forts of Chambly
and Sorel ; both on the waters by which the
communication is kept up between the lake,
and the river St. Lawrence. In 1672, under
pretence of a treaty of comrtierce, but with a
design to effect an establishment, which should
serve to restrain or subdue the Algonquins and
Hurons, he obtained their leave to build a fort
at Cadaraqui on lake Ontario. His successor.
Count Frontenac, compleated the works the
next spring ; and in 1679,M. de Saile inclosed
with paliisadoes a spot of ground at Niagara,
upon the strait which forms the communication
between the lakes Ontario and Erie. Such was
the origin of those fortresses, which have since
occasioned so much expence of blood and treas-
ure.

To this period, the wars in Canada had been
confined to the French and the natives ; neither
the Dutch or the English colonies had been en-
gaged or concerned in them. Albany,^ and all

VOL. I. K 2

U70 NATURAL AND CIVIL

the northern settlements on Hudson^s river, had
been conducted by the Dutch. That people^
incHned most of all to commerce, had so mana-
ged the Indians as to secure their friendship^
derive much profit from their trade, and had al-
ways avoided any contests, or at least any open
hostilities with them. In 1664, the whole coun-
try, called at that time New Netherlands, was
surrendered to the crown of England. The
country assumed the name of New York, and
was governed by authority derived from the
king of England* The Indians who lived be-
tween the settlements in Nevv^ York and Canada^
traded with either as best suited their conven-
ience or interest. But from this intercourse
tliey soon found that the English and French
were far from being friends ; that they were
often at war with each other, and were always
rivals in trade. With the spirit of sound policy
thev endeavored to avail, themselves of this state
of things, and to procure from the English a
plentiful supply of that kind of arms and am.-
jnunition, which had been so successfully em-
ployed against them ; and which could alone
be applied to the greatest advantage in all the
purposes of war and hunting. At the same
time they resolved to preserve their own inde-
pendence and importance, by trading with, or
favoring either, i^ their own interest might dic-
tate.

The English and the French colonies were
both aware of the Indian temper and policy,
and they were anxious to secure the Indian
friendship and trade. It became of course
tiieir interest and endeavour to impart their own

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 271

maxims and prejudices, to the savages ; and to
attach them as much as possible to their own
nation, views, and party. As war had now
ceased, this was the time to try what could be
done by the councils, measures and arts of
policy and insinuation. In this kind of manoeu-
vering, or Indian courtship, the French had the
most address and success. They not only sent
their traders, but they sent their Priests to re-
side among the Indian tribes. The missiona-
ries, educated in all the knowledge of Europe,
studied the Indian tem-per and character ; and
soon became well acquainted with their busi-
ness. Their superior knowledge and address
gave a direction to the councils and measures
of the savages ; their acquaintance with medi-
cal and chirurgical subjects, qualified them to
become their physicians and surgeons ; from
their knowledge in the arts of life, the Indians
were daily instructed in their rude attainments
of fishing, agriculture, and making their cabins
and weapons. To gain their affections, the
fathers were distinguished by their attention to
all the offices of humanity ; and to these were
added the arts and influence of superstition, as
a still more effectual means of gaining an ascen-
dency over the savage mind. In this kind of
management the Jesuits were most of ail distin-
guished : And it does not appear that in any
other order of clergy, so much knowledge of
science, of business, of men, of human life and
conduct, were ever so well united. Wherever
they were sent they 'tnet with great success ; and
when their manners and conduct were compare
cd with the aykward and, disgusting manners of

272 NATURAL AND CIVIL

the English missionaries, the natives concluded
that the Jesuits were ihe men who were the fa-
vorites of the Great Spirit above ; and that he
neither did or would work much bv the other
missionaries ; especially by the formal, unac-
commodating', metaphysiciil English Priests.

To this influence and instigation of the French
•priests, the English ascribed the commence-
itient of hostilities which took place in the year
1683, on the back parts of Virginia and Mary-
land, by sorae of the five nations. This was
the first time that any of those nations had ev-
er been engaged against the English ; and the
prospect of a war with the Iroquoise, occasion^
ed a most serious alarm to the country. If
they had proved so formidable to the French,
when they had only their bows, arrows, and
clubs, it was concluded they must prove a most
fofmidable enemy now, when they were gener-
ally armed with guns and hatchets, and knew
how to use them. To guard against so dan-
gerous an event, a geneml convention of the
English colonies was held at Albany in the
year 1684. Lord Howard, governor of Virginia,
was present. Col. Dongan, governor of New
York, and other influential characters attended.
The convention succeeded in averting the storm.
Howard, as President, made a treaty with the
five nations, and entered into a plan of peace,
trade, and alliance. This covenant was again
confirmed in 1685, and has been renewed at
several other times, since that period.

While the convention of the Enjrlish colo-
nies were engaged in this treaty with the fi"\'c
nations, aR event took place,, which tended to

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 273

give it success and efficacy. A messenger ar-
rived from M. de Bane, go^en^or of Catiade^,
complaining that the Indians of the Seneca tribe
had interrupted the French, in their trade with
the more distant nations. I'he Senecas admit-
ted the charge, but complained in their turn
that the French had supplied some of the Indian
tribes ^vith whom they were at war, with arms
and ammunition. And it became known that
while De Barre was amusing the governor of
New York, and the Iroquoise with these com-
plaints, he was making large preparations for
the entire destruction of the five nations. That
nothing might be wanting to secure success to
his measures, he had procured fresh troops from
France ; and a letter of instructions from the
Duke of York, proprietor of the province, to

. Col. Dongan his governor, enjoining him not
to oppose the French proceedings. Thus pre-
pared, De Barre proceeded with an army of
seventeen hundred men to lake Ontario ; and
sent to all the officers in the western posts, to
collect all the Indians they could in the upper
parts of the country, and rendezvous at Niagara.
The interference between the English and
French colonies in the affairs of the Indians,

, though not avowed, had resolved itself iriio a
steady opposition for several years ; and was
now assuming the aspect of a regular UcVional
policy. Dongan had been appointed governor
of New York in the year 1682 ; and was the
first English governor that saw the advantages
which might ai'ise from the Indian conimerce
and alliance. Aware of De Barre's measures
and designs, he disregarded the orders wiiich

274 NATURAL AND CIVIL

he had received from the Duke of York ; an^
nounced to the Indians the designs and prepa-
rations of the French, and promised to afford
them his assistance. Encouraged by these ad-
vances from the governor of New York, the
five nations became more and more attached to
the English, and prepared to make a vigorous
defence. .

At fort Frontenac, De Barre was detained
six weeks in want of provisions and recruits.
During this delay, a distressing sickness broke
out in his camp, occasioned chiefly by the bad-
ness of his provisions. Incapable of carrying
on war in an enemy's country with a dis-
eased army, he now wished to adjust his
operations to the purpose of concluding a trea-
ty of peace. With this view he crossed lake
Ontario, and came to a place, which on ac-.
count of the "distress of his army was called la
Famine. Dongan received intelligence of all
his movements, and labored to prevent the In-
dians from attending his proposed treaty. Two
of the five nations, the Mohawks & Senecas were
dissuaded, and refused to join. The other
three, the Oncydoes, the Onondagoes, and the
Cayugas, were influenced by the French mis-
sionaries ; but were unwilling to hear the
French interpreter, unless it should be in the
presence of the priests, to whom they had been
much attached. Matters were at length par-
tially adjusted, and the sachems of three of the
tribes agreed to meet the French governor.- --
Two days after their arrival in the French camp,
the council was opened. De Barre attended by
a circle of French officers andlndians, addressed

MlSTOilY OF VERMONT. 275

ti speech to Garrangula, an Onondago chief: In his
speech he told the Indians that he did not come
into their country for the purposes of war, that
his aims were altogether pacific, and that he
had no other wishes or designs, but to conclude
with them a treaty of peace and perpetual friend-
ship. Garrangula replied, that he had heard
and considered his talk, and did not believe it ;
that he knew that he came into their country to
destroy them all ; that the great Spirit had put
it out of his power, and that the Indians per-'
fectly weir knew the distresses of the French
army ; that notwithstanding all their boasting,
they were the objects of compassion, rathet
than fear ; but notwithstanding they would go
so far as to make a treaty with them.* Mor-
tified and provoked at the bold and sensible
answer of a savage, whom he meant to have
despised and destroyed, De Barre was obliged
to conceal his resentment, and his fear. No-
thing remained but to conclude the best treaty
the savages would admit ; and he retired to
Montreal, mortified v.'ith the expence, the want
of success, and the disappointment that had at-
tended every part of the expedition ; and not
at all pleased with the terms or extent of the
treaty which he had obtained.

M. de Ba^:-: returned to France ; and the
marquis De Ncaviile being appointed to suc-
ceed him in the government of Canada, arrived
at Quebec in 1685. The marquis was colo-
nel of a regiment of dragoons, of an active and
enterprizing turn of mind ; and was appointed

* Appendix No. VI*

276 NATURAL AND CIVIL

for the purpose of removing the disasters and
dirrgfaces. which came upon the colony in the time
of its former governor. As soon asDe Nonville
was beco.Tic acqiiairited with the affairs ofthe col-
ony, he wrote to cardinal Richlieu, the French
miiiiBter, urging a plan to enlarge and strength-
en the v/orks at Niagara, to exclude the En-
glish altogether from the lakes-, to engross the
wiiole of the furr trade, and to subdue the five
nations ; and immediately began his operatioUvS
by throwing large supplies of troops and provi-
sions into fort Frontcnac.

The governor of New- York watched all his
proceedings, and was very suspicious of his
desiras. He wrote to him that the five nations
were his friends and allies, and that an attack
upon them v/ould be considered as a breach of
the peace which subsisted between the En-
glish and the French crowns. Fie objected to
his sending so powerful a force to fort Fronte-
nac, and protested against his building a fort at
Niagara ; claiming that part cf the country, as
a part of the province of New- York. In his
, answer, De Non'v ille denied any intention of
invading the five nations, but claimed the coun-
try at Niagara, as belonging to the French
crown. Dongan placed no confidence in the
declarations of the marquis : Avvare of his pre-
parations and designs, and of the importance of
the Indian alliance and commerce, he exerted
his influence to encourage and prepare the con-
federate tribes for v/ar ; and was constantly at
work to make all the opposition in his power,
short of actual fiostiiities, to the plans and pro-
ccedings ofthe French governor.'

History of Vermont. 277

The five nations, at that time, had been for^
tunate in their victories over some of the Indi-
an tribes with which they were at war ; and
with whom, the French had carried oh a lucra-
tive tradco To piit an end to their triumphs,
and to the obstruction which they gave to the
French trade, De Nonville determined to carry
war into their own country. To effect these
purposes, in 1687, he assembled a body of two
thousand French troops, and six hundred Indi-
ans at Montreal ; and directed all the officers
in the upper parts of the country to meet him
at Niagara, with all the force that they could
collect. While these preparations were taking
place, hostilities were commenced. Two par-
ties of the English, who were trading on the
lakes were seized by the French, their effects
were confiscated, and their persons imprisoned.
A French officer with two or three hundred
men, had surprized two villages of the confede-
rates, whom they had invited to settle in their
country : And so anxious were the French to
prevent any of these Indians from escaping, and
carrying the intelligence to their countrymen,
that they were all conveyed to fort Frontenac.
In the treatment of these captives, the French
exceeded the barbarities of the savage tribes :
All the captives, thirteen excepted, were burnt
at the stake ; and spent their last moments iri
singing with an heroic and undaunted spirit^
the baseness and perfidy of the French. The
rest, by the particular order of Lewis XIV.
were put in irons, sent to Quebec, embarked
from thence to France, and there put on boar4
the galliesi ~ ^

27S NATURAL AND CIVIL

Hostilities being commenced, the inter-
ests of tliiC French colony no"\\' required vigorous
& animated 'exertions. De Nonyilie was not de-
ficient in courage or enterprise. On the twen-
ty third of June he cmbi.rked his whole army
iii canoes, and set" out from fort Cadaraqui ; one
half proceeded ori^the norths and the other half
marched on tlie south side of the Oneida lake,-
The}^ met the same day, at the place appointed
for their rendezvous' seven leayues from the*
chief village of the Senecas. The Indians were
placed in the front, and rear ; the main body,
consisting of the regulars and rhilitiaj were kept
together in a regular form. On the- second day
of their march the scouts arri\'ed at the corn-
fields of the Senecas, and witliin pistol shot of.
five' hundred of the warriors of that nation, who-
lay on their bellies undiscovered. The French-
concluded that the Senecas were all ficdy and were
in full march to overtake the old men, the w-o-
men, and children. In this state of nipid inove-
ment, and high expectation, they arrived at the
bottom of an hill, within one m.ile of the Sene-
ca village. In a moment the war- shout and
yell of the Senecas, was heai'd from every side ;
and the French army was attacked from every
quarter. The whole army was struck with sur-
prise and horror, and universal confusion ensu-
ed. The regulars and militia seized with the pa-
nic, could neither preserve their order or exert
their force to any advantage. One battallion
fired upon another, and all endeavored to fly
into the woods. Expecting such a scene, the.
Senecas rushed on with impetuosity to increase
the confusion J and would have compleated the

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 27§

defeat of the whole army had it- n6t been preven-
ted by the superior prowess of the French Iildi-
ans. Accustomed to such scenes, they under-
stood the business, and the outrage of an Indi-
an attack ; ralhed their forces, rushed on to the
attack, repulsed the Senecas, and saved the army
of the French.

So dispirited Vv'as the French general by this
unexpected and alarming onset, that he could not
be pursuaded to make any further attempts that
day, or even to pursue the retreating enemy.
While he was collecting his spirits and his
troops, the Senecas burnt their town and mar-
ched off with safety into the woods ; leaving
nothing but two of their oldest men^ for the
French to kill and torture. All the exploits that
remained for De Nonville. was to burn the
cornfields belonging to the Indian village, and
make captives of the two old men. Having
compleated this business he marched his army
back to lake Ontario ; and erected a fort on
the strait at Niagai-a. To preserve this fort, he
left a garrison of one hundred men; all of which,
except seven or eight who escaped, being close-
-ly blocked up by the Seneca's, perished in a few
months bv famine.

Receiving intelligence of the event ofDe
Nonville's ex])edition, the governor of New-
York concerted measures to avail himself of the
power and friendship of the Indians. For this
purpose he repaired to Albany, and had a con-
ference with the five nations in the month of
August. His speech on that occasion was wtII
adapted to secure their confidence and depen-
diiUice. He rejoiced, he told them, that they.

280 NATURAL AND CIVIL

had not suffered a greater loss by the French,
whose designs undoubtedly were to destroy
them all ; and that he would provide them with
such necessaries as they wanted. He advised
them not to destroy their captives, but to keep
them as prisoners, for the redemption of their
own countrymen whom the French had taken ;
To keep up a correspondence with him as to all
their designs and measures ; to send away the
French priests from their country ; to point
out a place on Lake Ontario, where he might
build a fort to supply them with stores and pro-
visions ; and above all not to pretend to make
any treaties with the French, but by his advice
and consent.* These measures and speeches
of Dongan served to encourage and animate
the Indians. Soon after a considerable party of
them beset the French fort at Chambly, bur-
ned several of the houses, and returned to Alba-
ny with a considerable number of captives. A-
bout the same time forty of the Onondagoes sur-
prised some of the French soldiers at fort Fron-
tinac, whom they confined and reserved for
tliQ redemption of their countrymen, who had
been sent to the gallies. Great pains were ta-
ken to recover these Frenchmen out of the hands
of the Indians. The French priests interposed to
persuade the savages to treat them with kind-,
ness, and return them to their countrymen ;
and a message was sent to the governor of New
York, to engage his influence in the affair.
Dongan informed the governor of Canada that
1^0 peace could be made with the five nations^,

* Smith's liijt. New-York, p. 69,

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 281

unless the Indians which had been sent to th?
gallies were returned, the forts at Frontenac and
Niagara demolished, and satisfaction given for
the damages which had been done to the Sene^

eas.

In this situation of the French affairs, Don-
gan hoped to compleat his favorite plan of poli-
cy ; to compel both the French and the Indians
to apply to him, in all their affairs of peace and
war. He had nearly effected his plan with th©
Indians ; but the French governors were jealous
of his designs, and wished to treat with the In-
dians, as a nation independent of the English
crown or colonies. It was however in Don-
gan's power from the situation of the French
colony at that time, to force it into such kind of
concessions ; and he was steadily following
measures to effect the purpose, when he was
ordered by James II. one of the most obstinate
and infatuated of all the English kings, to give
up the point to the governor of Canada ; and to
use his influence with the five nations, to make
peace with the French,

Deprived of the assistance and councils of
Dongan, the five nations began to hearken to the
French invitations, and a general meeting of the
hostile parties was proposed at Montreal.
Twelve hundred Indians of the five nations at-
tended at this conference, and insisted with much
earnestness, on the terms which Dongan had
recommended, De Nonville declared himself
ready to put an end to the war, if the Mohawks
and Senecas as well as the other tribes vAOuld
agree that the French should not be hindered in
aiupplying fort Frontenac with provisions, Ac-

282 NATURx\L AND CIVIL

cording to the French accounts the conditions
' were acceded to^ and a treaty was agreed upon
by both parties.

It proved however of no avail. The policy
of one Indian was sufficient to destroy every
idea of confidence between the parties, and to
inflame both still more with the spirit of bitter-
ness and revenge. Among the tribes which
lived on the shore of the v.-estern lakes, there
was one called by the name of the Dinondodies ;
a party, or appendage to the Hiirons. This
ti'ibe had found it profitable to trade with the
English, at Michilimacinac. On that account
it was suspected by the French, as being inclin-
ed to withdraw from their alliance ; but it was
still at war with the confederates. Adario, cal-
led by the French Le Rat, was their chief.
With a policy perfectly similar to that of Eu-
rope, he wished to derive advantages to his own
tribe, from the follies, jealousies, and %vars of
the belligerent pov/crs. His wish and viev/ was
to prevent the peace between the French and the
five nations. If he could effect this purpose, it
would secure his own tribe from the attacks of
the French, or Iroquoise ; render their friend-
ship of much importance to both ; and at the
same time secure his own influence, popularity,
and power with his own tribe. To effect these
purposes, he put himself at the head of one hun-
dred men, and marched to intercept the ambas-
sadors of the five nations, who were going to
compleat the business of peace with the French
governor. At one of the falls of Cadaraqui riv-
er he met the Iroquoise ambassadors ; killed
some, took others prisoners, and informed theii&

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 28^

that it was the French governor that had given
him intelhgence that fifty warriors of the five *
nations were coming that way.

To be betrayed by the person with whom
they had agreed upon a treaty, and were now
going to confirm it ; and at the same time to be
cldivered into the hands of a party vwith whom
they were at war, exceeded all the coifceptions
the savages had been able to form of duplicity,
perfidy, and baseness ; and in their rage against
De Nonvilie, they declared to Adario the nature
of their business, and the design of their jour-^
ney. Adario instantly put on all the appearan-
ces of anger, shame, and distress, at being made
the executioner of De Nonville's baseness and
treachery. He flew to the principal of the am-
bassadors, cut his bands, and set liim at liberty.
*' Go, says he, my brother, return to your na-
tion, and tell thenpit was the French who led.
me to commit so base and vile an action, as to
make an attack upon the messengers of peace.
Though our nations are at war, you are at liber-
ty ; and I shall never be at rest, till you hare
revenged upon the French, the base and perfidi-
ous conduct into which they have betrayed me."
By these arts, similar to those of more polished ,
nations, Adario secured peace for his own tribe,
and left the contending powers more exaspera-
ted against each other than they had ever been
before.

The intelligence soon reached the five na-^
tions that their ambassadors had been intercept-
ed, and assaulted by the contrivance of the
French governor ; and they did not doubt of
the truth of the information. The whole nation

284. NATURAL AND CIVIL

vo^vccl revenge, and agreed to make retaliation.
Twelve hundred of their warriors, animated
_tvith the fiercest feelings of the savage hearty
set out on a march to Montreal. The inhabi-
tants, unacquainted with the attack upon the
ambassadors, and believing that peace was made
with the five nations, were in perfect tranquility,
'without any preparation for, or any apprehension
of danger. While the city was thus serene, and
without fear, the storm of vengeance gathered
and burst. On the 26th of July 1688, the In-
dian warriors landed on the south side of the
island of Montreal, and immediately began their
assault upon every part of the city. Nothing
tould exceed the destruction which the savages
carried with them. They burnt the houses,
sacked the plantations, and put to death every
man, woman and child, which they could find
without the fortifications. (5lie thousand of the
French were slain in this massacre ; and twenty
six were carried into captivity, and burnt at the
stake. And so great was the consternation of
the French, that the Indians lost but three of
their number, while they carried destruction
and carnage through the whole island. Not
satisfied v/ith the calamities they had already-
occasioned, in October the Indians made anoth-
er descent upon the island ; again destroyed
the lower part of it, killed several of the inhabi-
tants, and took many prisoners.

At no time had Canada ever before, met
■^•ith so hea\y a misfortune. The very news
carried defeat as well as alarm along with it.
On receiving the tidings, the garrison at Lake
Ontario set fire to two barks which they had

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 285

^ast compleated, and abandoned the fort ; leav-
ing- a match to twenty eight barrels of powder,
disposed with a design to blow up the works.
The troops went down the river with such ra-
pidity and fear, that one of their battoes, with
her crew, was swallowed up in one of the falls.
The confederates were in all the animation and
insolence of victor}^ : They seized the fort at
Cadai'aqui, with all the powder and stores ;
they sent their scouts every where, to invade
the frontiers, and break up the settlements in
Canada. The French were involved in every
kind of difliculty and danger ; their borders
were invested, inroads made on their oldest
plantations, their new settlements breaking up ;
it became difficult and dangerous to cultivate
the lands, or to gather in the harvest : And to
all the miseries and calamities of war, were now
added the distresses of famine, to compleat their
catalogue of woes. Their Indian friends and
allies forsook them, and made peace with the
Iroquoise and English. Two only of the Tn-
cjian tribes adhered to the French in their ca-
lamity ; and these were too much dispirited, to
attempt any thing in their favor ; and it was
only in the cities of Quebeg. Trois Rivieres and
Montreal, that the inhabi-feats of the colony
found any safety: The savages knew not how
to approach, or to carry any fortified works ;
and the French availed themselves of this cir-
cumstance, till the affairs of the colony took a
different turn.

While the Iroquoise had been carrying on
these measures against the French, a war had
broke out between the Abenaquies' and the

VOL. 1 M 2

286 NATURAL AND CIVIL

English colonies at the eastward, which bore «t
threatening aspect. It was understood by the
English, that there was not any alliance between
the Iroquoise and the eastern Indians ; but
rather, some remains of former hostilities and
jealousies : And it was hoped that the fierceness
of the savage temper and passions, might be
managed so as to draw them into a war with
the eastern tribes. To effect this purpose,
commissioners from the colonies of Massachu-*
setts, Plymouth and Connecticut, had a confer-
ence with the five nations at Albany, in Sep-^
tember J689. When urged to engage in the
eastern ^var, the Indians replied that it was not
their custom to go to ■war with any people, from
whom they had not received any injury or in-
sult ; • that they were engaged already in a waf
with the French, the common enemy ; and that
they believed the best policy would be for the
English colonies first to assist them in subduing
the enemy, that was always ready to make war
against them both. The speech which their
orator made on tliis occasion, is an amusing
specimen of the Indian genius, policy and elo-
'i^uence. The English commissioners learnt
from it, but with t a^'prise, that the Indians well
understood their own interest and affairs ; and
were as much disposed and qualified to avail
themselves of policy in the management of war,
as the Europeans who had got possession of
their countrv.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 287

CHAPTER X.

War. The first wars between the English and
French colonies, assisted by the Indians ; from
the year 1689 to 1750. Effect of the revo-
lution in favor of JFilliam and Mary. Plans
of the French. Destruction in New Hamp-
shire and Schenectady. First attempt to re-
duce Canada. Sentiments of the Indians on
that occasion. French expedition agai?ist the
Mohawks. Destruction of Decrfield. Second
expedition against Canada. Proceedings of
Schuyler. Third attempt to reduce Canada,
Proceedings at Oswego and Lake Ontario.
Buildings and settlement at fort St. Frederick
at Crown Point. Capture of fort Massachu-
setts. Proposed expedition against Crown
Point. Attempt upon the fort at Charlcstown.

THE Vv^ars which had hitherto taken
place m the northern parts of the country, had
been chiefiv between the natives and the Euro-
pcan colonies. The English and the French
colonies had made it their practice to assist the
Indians with arms, ammunition, cloathing and
provisions, when they were going to war, either
against each other, or against the opposite colo-
ny ; but neither of them had as yet adopted the
custom, of joining their own troops to the In-
dians, or sending out parties to aid or assist
thean in their expeditions.

Col. Dongan, who was governor of Newyork
under James II. was expressly commanded by
l^is sovereign, to avoid giving; the Indians any

288 NATURAL AND CIVIL

assistance, or the French any molestation. A
dupe to his bigotry and to his priests, it seemed
to be the great object of the Enghsh. king, to
have the French missionaries succeed in con-
verting the American Indians to the faith and
ceremonies of tlie church of Rome ; and that
every poUtical movement in the pro\'incc of
Nevvyork might be directed to favor that event.
Dongan was an avowed roman cathoHc, but
had more understanding than to sacrifice the
pohtical interests of his colon}^ to the danger-
ous design of making the Indians a new sect of
believers in the catholic priests. He foresaw
the political consequence and effect, avoided die
civil politics of his master, opposed the vicAvs
and measures of the gOAcrnor of Canada, and
gave much assistance to the Indians in tlieir op-
position to the French ; and the governor of
Canada was full of his complaints, that all his
meaF.ures were opposed and defeated by the
governor of Newyork. But this strong and
mutual jealousy and opposition betv.een the
governors of Newyork and Canada, was much
restrained, and kept from any open and avowed
hostilities, by the friendship and good under-
standing, which at that time prevailed, between
the kings of England and France.

Happily for the English nation, the folly,
bigotry, and arbitrary measures of James IL
were carried to such an excess, as to alarm all
orders and degrees of men. In the event, they
prepared the riiind of the nation for a revolu-
tiQn ; which terminated in the abdicationof James»
and in the elevation of William and Mary to
the English throne. In his perplexity and dis-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 289

tress, James fled into France for protection.
Lewis XIV. avowed his cause, and afforded
him assistance in his endeavors to recover his
throne. These events, according to all the E\i-
ropean customs and maxims, could not fail of
producing hostility and war between England
and France.

It was the fate of the colonies at that time,
not to partake m\ich in the prosperities, but to
be involved in all the misfortunes and quarrels
of their parent. states. No sooner had England
and France plunged themselves into all the ca-
lamities and distresses of war, by the vices and
follies of one of their worthless kings, than all
the people in their colonies must share the same
fate, and be involved in the same pursuits and
sufferings. And the time v/as now come in
which both the French and the English colonies
were destined, not only to carry on a war with
nations of barbarous natives ; but to become
parties and sufferers in all the quarrels of more
cautious, but equally capricious European sov-
ereigns.

M. De Callieres, seems at that time to have
had the management of their military affairs, in
Canada. Of an active disposition, and sound
judgment, he concluded that the surest way to
subdue the live nations would be, to effect the
conquest of the province of Newyork. The
plan tliat he proposed was to attack the city of
Newyork by sea, and that a large body of Cana-
dians and Indians should march by the way of
Sorel and lake Champlain, to take Albany. In
pursuance of this plan he went to France in
1688, and presented a memorial to the French

250, NATURAL AND CIVIL

king on the subject. The force which he re-
quested for these purposes, was thirteen hun-
dred regulars, and three hundred Canadians,^
Albany was said to be fortified only by an in-
closure of stockadoes, and a little fort, with
©nly four bastions ; and that it contained but
one hundred and fifty soldiers, and tbi'ee hun-
dred inhabitants. The capital of the province,
Newyork, was described as defended only by a
stone fort, with four bastions ; and containing
four hundred, inhabitants, divided, into eight
companies. The Court of France acceded to
the proposals and solicitations of M, De Callie-
res. A French fieet and troops were sent to,
Chebuctai in September .1689, to proceed to
Newyork, as soon as the troops should have
marched towards Albany, The Count De
Frontenac proceeded to Quebec, to put himself"
at the head of^ the Canadians and Indians, in
their march to Albany,, On his arrival at Que-
bec, he found the affairs of Canada in great con-
fusion. He learnt with astonishment that tlie
Iroquoise liad plundered and burnt the city of
Montreal, and killed most of the inhabitants ;
that tlie frontier settlements were broken up,
and the inhabitants of Canada in such a state of
weakness and poverty, that they could not un-
dertake any expedition cigainst Albany. It was
in vain for Frontenac to attempt a conquest of
Newyork, while the French colony was in such
a situation ; and he was obliged to give up an
expedition, on which his heart had been much
engaged. 'f^ Thus early did it occur to the

* Cbarleveix. Smith's Hist. Ne-vyork.

^ i

iiiSTORY OF VERMONT. 25 1

Ihinds of military m.en, that whether Newyork
or Canada were to be conquered, the passage of
the army must be through lake Champlain.

Mortified by the failure of the proposed
expedition against Newyork, and alarmed by
the distressed state of Canada, the count found
it to be absolutely necessary to revive the hopes
of the Canadians and Indians, by some attempt
against the English colonies. With this view
he projected two incursions ; one against the
eastern frontiers of Massachusetts and New-
Hampshire, and the other against the northerly
settlements in the province of Newyork. The
former was put under thi|^ command of Sieur
Hertel, who set out from Trois Rivieres, and
succeeded in the destruction of the fort at Salmon
Falls in New- Hampshire, on March 18th, 1690;
Thirty of the English were killed, and fifty four,
chiefly women and children, were carried into
captivity i*

The other party designed against New-
York, was put under the direction of D'Aille-
bout, assisted by De Montel, and Le Moyn^
Under their command, a detachment of about
two hundred Frenchmen, and fifty Indians who
Were well acquainted with the country, set out
from Montreal, in the beginning of January, and
proceeded by the way of lake Champlain. By
the advice of the Indians, instead of proceeding
to Albany, they directed their march towards
Schenectady, a village about seventeen mile*
northwest of Albany. After a march of twenty
two days, they arrived in the vicinity of th^

• Belknap's Hist! Ncw-KampsI»irc,VeI. I. p. a^®.

29g NATURAL AND CiViL

village ; but were reduced to such want3 and
distress, that they apprehended they must sur-
render themselves prisoners of war, as the only
alternative to prevent perishing by hunger and
cold. To ascertain whether there was any pros-
pect of success, they had sent forward their
scouts to gain iiitelligence. The spies were one
or two days in tiie village, without being dis-
covered or suspected. On their return to the
French army, they informed tlie commander
that the village was in a state of the greatest in-
attention ; that the troops v/ere few, and under
Ho discipline ; ilrat the gates were not shut even
in the night ; that no preparation of any kind
was made for war ; nor did the inhabitants ap-
pear to be in any degree apprehensi^'e of dan-
ger. Encouraged by this intelligence, the
French officers determined to move forward,
and make a vigorous assault upon the place.
On February the eighth, 1690, at eleven o'clock
at night, they entered the city by the gates,
tvhich they found open ; and that every house
might be invested at the same time, they divi-
ded themselves into small parties of six or sev-
en to a division. -Never was there a place, that
was more compleatly surprized. The inhabi-
tants were in their beds -without fear, and with-
out any suspicion of danger ; the noise and vio-
lence of the onset, awakened them from their
slumbers ; but before they had risen from their
beds, the French and Indians had entered their
houses, and began the work of destruction and"
slaughter. Col. Schuyler, commander of the
Jnilitary force in that part of Newyork, has giv-=-
en the most accurate account of this tragedy.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 295

^' No tongue," says he, "can express the cruelties-
that were committed. The whole village was
instantly in a blaze. Women with child rip-
ped open, and their infants cast into the flames,
or dashed against the posts of the doors. Sixty-
persons perished in the massacre, and twenty
seven were carried into captivity. The rest
fled naked towards Albany, through a deep
snow, which fell that very night in a terrible
storm ; and twenty five of these fugitives, lost
their limbs in the flight, through the severity of
the frost."*

The news of this awful tragedy reached Al-
bany, about break of day. An universal dread
and consternation seized the inhabitants ; the
enemy were reported to be fourteen hundred in
number ; and many of the citizens of Albany
entertained the idea, that the best method was
to destroy the city, and abandon that part of the
country. But Schuyler and others roused and
rallied the inhabitants. A party of horse was
soon sent off to Schenectady, but they were not
strong enough to venture a battle. The enemy
kept possession of the place till the next day at
noon ; and having plundered the whole village,
they went off with forty of the best horses load-
ed with the spoil ; the rest, with all the cattle
they could find, lay slaughtered in the streets.

The policy of the French was apparent ia
the midst of these horrid transactions. They
not only spared the Mohawks whom they found
in the place, but several other persons were re-
leased at the request of these Indians, with whom

* Smith's Hist. Newyork, p. gj.

VOL. I. N 2 -'

2^4 NATURAL AND CIVIL

they wished to be at peace. Captain Glen was
a citizen of note in the village : His v/ife, in
the lime of Coi. Doni^in, had shewn many ci-
vilides to some French captives. The enemy
offered no violence to this man, and released
several women and children at his request ; de-
claring ihey had strict orders not to do him any
injury on account of the former conduct of hi^
wife. The people of Schenectady had been in-
formed of the design of the enertiy, and that an
expedition was undertalcen against that part of
the country ; but they judged it to be impos-
sible for any body of men, in the severest sea-
son of the year, to march several hundred miles,
through thQ deepest snov/s, v/ith their provi-
sions on their backs. The civil eovernment of
the province, at that time, was incapable of af-
fording them any intelligence, or protection ;
universal weakness and disorder were spread
through the whole province, by a revolution at
at New York, under the direction of a captain
Lester.

The success that attended these expeditions,
was greatly favorable to the viev»'s of Front^enac,
and served to revive the spirits of the French
colony : At the same time they occasioned an
alarm in every part of the English plantations ;
and it was apparent, that unless tliey could be
checked, New England and New York would
receive much greater injuries and insults. It
Was proposed that there should be a meeting of
commissioners from all the New England colo-
nies, and from the province of New York, to
consult, and agree upon measures for the com-
mon defence and safety. Coniniisbiouers for

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 295

that purpose assembled at the city of New York,
May 1, 1690 ; it was their unanimous opinioa
that there would be no permanent peace in the
English colonies, till the French in Canada were
subdued ; and that the only effectual measures
would be, to engage upon an expedition for that
purpose. To effect the conquest of Canada,
they agreed upon this ,plan of operations ; that
eight or nine hundred Er'glishmcn, with five or
six hundred Indians, should proceed by way of
lake Champlain, and make an assault upon
Montreal ; while a fxeet and army of eighteen
hundred or two thousand men, should go up
the river St. Lawrence, and make an attack up-
on Quebec, at the same time. By thus }:)ene-
trating into the heart of the country, and carry-
ing the operations and ravages of war to their
two capital cities, it was supposed that the for-
ces of the enemy would be. so divided, and their
councils so perplexed, as to afford a fair pros-
pect of success to the English armaments ; and
might probably terminate in the cor^quest, or at
k\o.t in preventing any fiu"ther insults from
Canada.

A small vessel had been sent express to Eng~
land in the beginning of i\pril, v/ith a represen-
tation of the exposed state of the English colo-
nies, and the necessity of reducing Canada ;
earnestly requesting a supply of arms and am-
munition ; and that a ^^itiii^ber of the kings fri-
gates might be sent to triake tlie attack by sea,
while the colony forces, should invade the coun-
try by land. The English nation, involved in
a war with France, was in no situatioii at that
time to afford any assistance to the expedition ;

296 NATURAL AND CIVIL

and having waited till August in hopes of stores
and aid from England, the colonies determined
to proceed. Massachusetts agreed to fit out the
force that was to proceed to Quebec ; New
York and Connecticut were to furnish the army
that was to advance against Montreal.

Th e Connecticut and New York troops were
put under the command of John Winthrop,
Esq. ol Connecticut ; w^ho was appointed ma-
jor general and commander in chief. Early in
the month of August he arrived with the troops
under his command, near the falls at the head
of Wood Creek. This was the place appointed
for the rendezvous of the Indians of the five na-
tions. But instead of finding a numerous force
as he expected, there were not more than seven-
ty Vv'arriors ot the Mohawks and Oneydoes. A
messenger was sent to the other nations to per-
suade them to send on their vvarriors, but they
did not come for\"iard to join tlie army. When
the general had advanced about one hundred
miles, he found that there were not battcaux or
canoes provided, sufficient to transport one ..alf
of the English army ; and that the commissary
had not made preparation to supply the aruiy
w^ith provisions. The Indians told them it was
too late in the year to make caiiocs ; and that it
would be best for them not to attem.i^t Montreal,
but to direct their attacks against Cham.bly, and
the French settlements on this side of th.e river
St. Lawrence. Discouraged with the difficul-
ties and prospects before him, Winthrop cal-
led a council of war ; in which it was determin-
ed that the army must return to Albany for
subsistence, and to send on about an hundred

HISTORY OF VERMONT. f297

and forty of their active young men, Enpjlish and
Indians, to make a diversion in favor of the fleet.
. About the same time, August the ninth,
that Winthrop set out for Albany, the ficet sail-
ed from Boston, for Quebec. It consisted of
between thirty and forty vessels ; the largest of
forty four guns, and the whole number of men
about two thousand. Sir William Phips, gov-
ernor of Massachusetts, had the chief command.
The fleet had a long passage from Boston, and
did not arrive before Quebec till the fifth of
October. From tlie lateness of the season, and
the retreat of Winthrop's arni)-. Sir William
Phips could have had but little prospect of suti-
cess. Count Frontenac had advanced with all
his forces to Montreal, to defend that part of
the country against the army, which was advan-
cing by way of lake Cham.plain. No sooner
had he received advice by his scouts that the
English army had retired to Albany, than he
set off with the greatest dispatch for Quebec,
and arrived in the city before the English fleet
had come to anchor. The baron Le Hontan, a
French officer who was then in Quebec, gives
this account of the proceedings ; that' count
Frontenac was at Montreal v/hen he heard that
the English fleet was in the river ; and had the
English made their descent before liis arrival at
Quebec, or two days after, they would have
carried the place without any contest ; as there
were not two hundred French in the city, and
it was open and exposed in every part ; but
that they lost the opportunity, by spending three
days in consultation, before they came to s^f
determination bow to act.

298 NATURAL AND CIVIL

On the eighth of October, the ti-oops were
landed, amounting to between twelve and thir-
teen hundred men, and advanced towards the
town. The next day the ships were drawn up
before it, and cannonaded with all. their force.
They did but little damage to tlie enemy, but
v/ere much shattered bv the cannon from their
batteries. On the eleventh, the troops were re-
cmbarkcd. They had advanced, and maintain-
ed their ground with s}3irit, but -they received
such an account of the strength of the French
from a deserter, as discouraged tiiem from any
further attem]:>t. Nor was there any prospect
that they could succeed, when they had to op-
pose the whole force of Canada, under so able
a commander as Frontcnac. In a few davs tern-
pcstuous weather came on, which drove sorae
of the vessels from anchor, and scattered the
whole fleet ; and they made the best of their
way to Boston, where Sir William Phips arrived
on the nineteenth of November.*"

Such was the fate of the first attempt of our
ancestors for the conquest of Canada. From the
ill success which attended it, it has been cus-
tomary for the Englisii and French ^vritcrs to
speak of it in the language of derision and con-
tempt. With the multitude, success generally
passes for wisdom, and misfortune is esteemed
to be folly. The 'p.'an of the expedition was
the same, that was twice afterwards adopted by
the statesmen and generals of the British nation.
Its success depended on the joint operation of
the forces under the commai"Lcl of Winthrop and

* Hutchinson's Hist, of Massachusetts, Vol. I. p. 4C0. Trumbull's
Hist, of CoBnecticJt, p. 402.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 299

Phips. Unfortunately the colonies wasted tho
summer in a fruitless expectation of succours
from England. When Winthrop proceeded to
the lake, the Indians saw that it was too late to
make the necessary preparations to embark hi.3
ai'ray ; and they would not venture to join him
in any considerable nunibers. Unable to pro-
ceed he was obliged to returji*to Albany. This
retreat proved flital to the attempts at Quebec.
When opposed by the whole force of Canada,
Phips could not succeed either in taking, or in
holding the capital of the country.

The fruitkbs attempts of the English colo-
nies to subdue Canada, left very unfavorable
impressions on the minds of the Indians of
the five nations. They saw a precarious depen-
dencv of the colonies on a distant and unknown
nation, which they could not comprehend ; a
waste of time, which appeared to them to be
unnecessary ; and a want of that unanimity, se-
crecy, energy, and perseverance, which * ere
generally to be found in their ov/n councils, and
in those of the French ; of course they became
apprehensive that their new allies had not the
necessary information, or power, to subdue
their enemies. Major Schuyler, of Albany,
was acquainted with the Indian character, and
discerned the depression of their minds. Tq.
keep alive, and to animate their enmity and hos-
tility against the French, in the summer of the
year 1691, he put himself at the head of a party
of Mohav/ks ; and passing through lake Cham-
plain, made a vigorous irruption upon the
French settlements on the river Sore!. He was
opposed by M. De Caiiieres,v the governor of

500 NATURAL AND CIVIL

Montreal, who with an army of eight hundred
men, was encamped at La Prairie. Several en-
gagements took place between the hostile par-
ties, and in these encoun.ters Schuvler slew a-
bout three hundred of the enemy ; a number
which exceeded that of his own force. While
the French kept their troops together in the
European form, Schuyler adopted the Indian
method of placing liis men under cover of trees
and svv'amps ; and derived great advantage, from
this method of carrying on his assaults.*

Amidst these invasions of Canada, Fronten-
ac, though far advanced in age, being above
seventy, preserved his vigor and activity ; and
was perpetually planning some enterprize for
the benefit of the colony, and animating every
body around him. Having failed in his at-
tempts to make peace v/ith the five nations, he
was now meditating a blow upon the Mohawks.
The force he collected for this purpose, amount-
ed Vo six or seven hundred French and Indians.
Well supplied with every thing necessary for a
winter campaign, the army set out from Mon-
treal, January 15th, 1695, and marched by the
way of lake Chi;mplain. Persevering through
incredible hardships, they passed by Schenecta-
dy on February the sixth, and that night cap-
tured five men and .some women and children,
at the first castle of the Mohawks. They met
with the same success at the second castle ;
the Indians being in perfect security, and many
of them gone to Schenectady. At the third,
they found about forty Indians engaged in a

• Smith'* Hist. New York, p. 92.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 301

war dance, and prepared to go out the next day
upon some v/arlike expedition. Entering the
mohawk castle, a warm conflict ensued, in which
the French lost thirty of their men ; but they
carried the Indian fortress, and captured nearly
three hundred of the Mohawks, but mostly wo-
men and children.

The misfortunes of the Mohawks were no
sooner known at Albany, than Schuyler put
himself at the head of two hundred volunteers,
and marched in pursuit of the enemy. On the
fifteenth of February he was joined by three
hundred Indians, ill armed, and many of them
boys. With this force he fell in with the ene-
my, who had made some attempts to fortify
their camp. Having still the advantage in the
number and discipline of their troops, the ene-
my made three successive sallies upon Schuyler,
but in every one met with a repulse ; and
Schuyler firmly maintained his ground, every
moment expecting a reinforcement and provi-
sibns from Albany. Fearful of that event, the
French on the eighteenth, embraced the oppor-
tunity of a heavy snow storm, and marched off
for Canada. The next day eighty regular troops
arrived, with provisions from Albany. Schuy-
ler resumed the pursuit, and it was by means of
a floating cake of ice, that the French army were
able to escape over the north branch of Hud-
son's river. But so pressed were they by
Schuyler's pursuit, that they suffered most of
their prisoners to escape. In these engage-
ments Schuyler lost eight of his men, and four-
teen wounded ; the loss of the French was
eiglity killed and thirty wounded. Both parties

VOL. I O 2

7

502 NATURAL AND CIVIL

suffered severely by the severity of the weather,
and the want of provisions. The Mohawks
found about thirty of the French, v\hich had
been slain ; such was their hunger and rage,
that thev roasted their bodies, and eat them for
provisions. The French, in their turn, were so
reduced that they eat up tlxeir shoes before they
arrived in Canada.*

For several years after this period, the war
W"as continued w'vAi much activity and animosity.
Scouting and ravaging parties of Indians were
frequently making inroads upon the English and
French settlements, many 'were slain on both
sides, and much injury was done to the advan-
ced settlements of both countries. Frontenac
was also much engaged in erecting forts, and
making excursions in the Indian country, to
restrain and bridle the five nations. But as
these expeditions were at a distance from lake
Champlain, they do not come within the propos-
ed limits of this narration. Nor did the war
cease on the frontiers of Canada, New York, or
New England, till the peace of Ryswick, Sep-
tember 20, 1697. The treaty between the two
crowns of England and France, by putting an
end to the European wars, restored tranquility
to the Indians, and to the American provinces.

The tranquility of the provinces, however
was to be of but a short duration. Upon the
death of James II. the kinsr of France did not
admit the prince ^vho was in possession of the
English throne, and acknowledged by the Eng-
lish nation, to be their rightful sovereign ; and

* Smith's Hist, of New York, p. 95.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 303

proclaimed another person to be king of Eng-
land. This aftront could not fail to engage
those mighty kingdoms in war, and to involve
their American colonies in all its effects and
sufferings. On May 4, 1702, war was pro-
claimed between England and France ; a sig-
nal to the people that mutual hatred, hostility,
and destruction were to begin. At first the war
did not prove distressing to New York. Count
Frontenac, the able and vigilant governor of
Canada, died in the year 1698 ; and his suc-
cessor, M. De Callieres, had succeeded in com-
pleating a treaty of peace and neutrality with
the five nations. This agreement was allowed
to be in force by the governors of New York
and Canada, notwithstanding the war between
the two crowns. And instead of being harras-
sed by the inroads of the French and Indians,
the province of New York continued for some
time in a state of gre^t tranquility, and carried
on a lucrative trade with the French and In-
dians in Canada, at the very time tliey were
carrying destruction into the other English col-
onies.

While Nev/ York was thus enjoying peace,
the French and Indians were carrying uncom-
mon destruction and calamities into the eastern
provinces. In August 1703, a body of French
and Indians, five hundred in number, divided
themselves into several small parties, and as-
saulted all the settlements from Casco bay to
Wells. They killed, and captured, one hun-
dred and thirty of the English ; burning and
destroying the houses and settlements. The
whole eastern country v^-as in terror^ and con-

504 NATURAL AND CIVIL

fusion ; alarms were every where taking place j
and the whole frontier from Deerfield on Con-
tlecticut river, to Casco bay on the sea coast,
was kept in one continual terror by small par-
ties of the enemy.*

The neutrality which New York maintained
widi the French and Indians, and the supplies
which they afforded them in their descents upon
the eastern colonies, was extremely blamed and
censured in all the New England colonics. It
was however attended with one good effect ;
the Indians, in their trading visits to Albany,
frequently gave accounts of the expeditions the
Trench were preparing against the eastern col-
onies : and Col. Schuyler never failed to give
the most faithful and early intelligence of such
designs. Deriving his information from this
source, lord Cornbur}-, governor of New York,
advised Mr. Dudley, governor of Massachu-
setts, so early as the month of May, that the
French and Indians intended to make a descent
upon Deerfield. The design not being carried
into execution in the course of the summer, the
intelligence \\'as not enough regarded. But tiie
next winter, 1704, M. Vaudrieul, governor of
Canada, resumed the project with much atten-
tion.

Deer ra ELD, at that time, was the most nor-
therly settlement on Connecticut river, a few
families at Northfield excepted. Against this
place M. Vaudrieul sent out a party of about
three hundred French and Indians, They v. ere
put under the command of Ilertel de Rouville,

• Belknap's Hist. Nfir Hampshire, Vel.i. p. 331— ^3«,

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 305

assisted by four of his brothers ; all of which
had been trained up to the business by their
father, who had been a famous partizan in their
former wars. The route they took was by the
way of lake Champlain, till they came to the
French river, no\v called Onion river. Advan-
cing up that stream, they passed over to Con-
necticut river, and travelled on the ice till they
came near to Deerfield. Mr. Williams, their
minister, had been much apprehensive of dan-
ger, and attempted to make the same impres-
sion on the minds of his people, but not with
sufficient success ; but upon his application the
government of the province had sent a guard of
twenty soldiers for their assistance. The forti-
fications were some slight works thrMvn round
two or three garrison houses, but were nearly
covered in some places by drifts of snow. To
this place, Rouville with his party, approached
on February the twenty ninth. Hovering round
the place, he sent out his spies for intelligence.
The watch kept the streets of the town till about
two hours before day, and then unfortunately
all of them went to sleep. Perceiving all to be
quiet, the enemy embraced the opportunity and
rushed on to the attack. The snow was so
high, that they had no difficulty in jumping over
the wails of the fortification ; and immediately-
separated into small parties, to appear before
every house at the same time. The place was
compleatly surprized, and the enemy were en-
tering the houses at the moment the inhabitants
had the first suspicion of their approach. The
whole village was carried in a few hours, and
with very little resistance ; one of the garrisoi^

506 NATURAL AND CIVIL

houses only, being able to hold out against the
enemy.

Having carried the place, slain forty seven
of the inhabitants, captured the rest, and plun-
dered die village, the enemy set it on fire"; and
an hour after sun rise on the same day, retreat-
ed in great haste, A small party of the Eng-
lish pursued them, and a skirmish ensued the
same day, in which a few ^vere lost on both
sides. The enemy however compleatly suc-
ceeded in their enterprize, and returned to Can-
ada on the same route, carrying with them one
hundred and twelve of the inhabitants of Deer-
field as prisoners of wsly. They were twenty
five days on their march from Dcerfield to
Chambly ; and like their masters, the savages,
depended on hunting for their support. On
their arrival in Canada they found much hu-
manity and kindness from the French, and from
M. Vaudrieul their governor ; but complained
much of the intolerance, bigotry, and duplicity
of the priests.*

* WITH a profound re«pect tothememory ofhisworthygrandsirc.thc
writer of these sheets c;:nnot omit this opportunity of mentioning with
pleasure his descent, as being the grand son of the Rev. John Williams^
at that timcllie minister of Deerheld. This worthy man 'vvas born at
Roxbury, in Massachusetts, in the year 1664. He \vas educated at
Harvard College, an<^ took his degree in 168.^, and was the iirst settled
minister at Deerfield. At that time, v hen the people were fontiing a
cew plantation it was customary to engage some respectable preacher cf
the gospel, tobc^iii the settlement with them. Having the best educa-
tion which the country could give, and being men of sober morals, the
clei;gy had of eonsequence great influence in the civil, as well as in the.
religious concerns of the country : And the people generally found in
their minister, not a useless dupe to metaphysical chimeras,but an able»
a moral, and judicious friend; capable of directing their devotions, and
assisting them in the difficulties and hardships, inseparable from their situa-
tion, when first commencinj their settlement.

Such a one was the mioisrer of Deerfield. Learned, moral, judicious,
and of exemplary piety and gravity, he was greatly amiable, and active.
In 1-697, t^he village was attacked by a party of the enemy ; the minister
put tumaclf at the fctad of bis people; and with much prudence and

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 307

For several years after this period, a continu-
ed scene of devastation and destruction was
kept up. The New- England colonies formed
several expeditions against the French and In-
dians, in the eastern parts ; and they, in their
turn, were constantly making inroads on the ex-
posed setdements of the English. Success of-
ten attended both parties ; but the exertions of
the English colonies proved extremely distres-
sing to the inhabitants, as well as their losses.
They were too fe^v in number, to bear the loss
of men ; and so low in their circumstances that

bravery they repulsed the enemy. On the breaking out of a new war, his
anxiety and his activity increased : Upon his application, the governmens
sent a guard of 20 soldiers to Deerfield ; and during the whole winter
he was incessant in his religious and civil c-onduct, to impress the minds of
the people with a sense of their danger, and with a spirit of vigilance and
activity. When the enemy broke in upon the town, they went to his
house in the beginning of the onset ; and about twenty of the Indians
entered his house, as he was rising from his bed. Such was the firmness
of his mind, that he took a pistol from the head of his bed, and presented
it to the breast of the first Indian that came up. The pistol missed fire,
and the Indians immediately disarmed and bound him. Tv/o of his chil-
dren, and a negro woman, were butchered, and his house pillaged. The
Indians then suffered him, his wife, and the five surviving children to put
on their cloaths, and prepare for their dreadful march.

When the svm was about an hour high, they led kim out with hi» wife
andchildren, and set fireto his house and barn. On the second day of the
journey, hi* wife scarcely recovered from lying in, informed him that her
strength began to fail. He knew the consequence; her savage master
clove her head, and put an end to her life, by one stroke of his hatchet.
Mr. Williams himself was carried to Canada with his children. At times,
they all received favors from their Indian masters, and mauy acts of kind-
ness from the French. During his captivity, by his learning, firmness,
steadiness, and resolution, he proved of much se^vice in supporting the
spirits of his people, and preserving their attachment to the religion and
government of their country. In 1706 he was exchanged, and ?entto_Bos-
ton, with a number of the English captives. Some oftlie be3t_ parishes
Hear Boston, urged him to settle with them, as a minister. Declining ev-
ery offer and prospect of this nature, in conformity toa vo.v made inhis
captivity, he returned to Deerfield; collected his flock, and began again
with them the labors and hardships of another settlement: and remained
their worthy and faithful minister till the year i "a? ; dying in peace,bclov-
cd by his people, and lamented by biscountry. The account that he wrote
«f his captivity, is in the plain serious style of that day ; an instructive and
entertaining relation, and has gone through seven editions. — '' The me-
morial of virtue is immortal. It is known with <Jod and with men.
When it is prc8ent, mcmake example at it; undwlien it i-* gone, they de-
sire it.'*

308 NATURAL AND CIVIL

they could scarcely procure the necessaries of
life, much less bear the expences of war. The
whole country was in a state of constant terror
and alarm ; and in the frontier towns, the wo-
men and children found no refuge, but in the
garrisons. The men v/ent armed to their work,
centinels were posted in the fields, attacks were
made almost every week, reports of French and
Indian armies and incursions were incessant,
and every month some of the inhabitants were
cut off by the enemy. And what was more
humiliating, a flivorite but ill managed expedi-
tion against the French at Port Royal in Acadia,
in 1707, had failed.*

To put an end to this horrid scene of depre*
dation and slaughter, there was no way but to
carry the war to the headquarters of the enemy,
and make another attempt for the conquest of
Canada. Solicitations for this purpose had been
made to the court .of England by the assembly
of Massachusetts ; by Francis Nicholson, who
had been lieutenant governor of New York and
Virginia ; and by captain Samuel Vetch, who
had been several years before at Quebec, for the
redemption of prisoners, and was well acquaint-
ed with the river St. Lawrence, and the French
settlements. Vetch made a full representation
to the British m.inistry, of the state of thingf; in
America ; and of the necessity of caiTying the
war into Canada. The British ministry ap-
proved of the plan ; and early in the spring, [17093
Vetch came to Boston with letters from the
carl of Sunderland, the British secretary of state,

* Kutchimon's Hi»t. Ma33achusetts, Vol. a.p. 137— 159. Be!kn^p'3
Kist. New-Hampshire, Vol. i. p. 319— 347'

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 309

to the governors of the English colonies to en-
gage their assistance.

The plan announced by these letters, was,
that her Majesty would dispatch a squadron of
-ships to Boston, by the middle of May, with
five regiments of regular troops. The colony
governments eastward of Connecticut, were re-
quired to raise twelve hun'-Ved men ; and to
furnish them with transports, flat bottomed
boats, pilots, and provisions, for three months.
With this force it was designed to make an at-
tempt upon Quebec. At the same time fifteen
liundred men were to be raised in Connecticut,
New York, New Jersey, and the southern colo-
nies. This corps was to proceed by way of
lake Champlain, and make a descent on the Isl-
and of Montreal. Vetch was appointed a colo-
nel, and Nicholson, by the nomination of the
governor of New York, and the consent of the
governors of Connecticut and Pennsylvania,
was appointed commander in chief.

All the colonies, except Pennsylvania, fur-
nished their quotas of troops. The provincial
army from the eastern colonies, was ready to
sail for Quebec by the tv/entieth of May.
Nicholson with his troops marched early in
the summer to Wood creek, where he was
directed to v/ait till the fleet should arrive at Bos-
ton. Besides the quotas of troops which were
to be raised, several independent companies
were formed, and sent on to the army. Six
hundred Indians vv^ere also collected, and a
thousand of their wives and cliildren were main-
tained at Albany during tlie campaign. Pro-
visions and stores for the armj were collected

VOL. I, P 2

510 KATURAL AND CIVIL

and transported ; and more than one Inindred
battoes, and as man}^ birch canoes were con-
structed for crosbing the hikes. Three forts
were built at Wood creek, besides many block-
houses and stores for the provisions, winch
had been provided and transported with great
dispatch.

' Every thing ncv bore the appearance of
success. The public aiFairs of Great Britain
were conducted Yty a v/ise and able ministry.
Their arms had been attended with uncommon
success in Flanders, under the celebrated duke
of Marlborout!;h ; and France was so weakened
by her repeated defeats in that country, that
she was not in a condition to give assistance to
£0 remote a colony as Canada. The Indians of
the five nations, throirgh the address and soli-
citations of Schuyler, appeared to be heartily
engaged in the business. Joy seemed to spar-
kle in every eye, and the expectation ap-
peared to be universal, that the time was now
come, when Canada was to be reduced ; and
an end put to those horrid scenes of destruc-
tion and slaughter, v, hich had so long distressed
and wasted the country.

The scene of joy and expectation was not
hov.'e\rcr of a long duration. The armament
expected from England did not arrive ; nor
any intelligence that it was ready to sail. A
great mortarny began to prevail am< ng the
troops at Wood-creek. With the sickness
and disappointment, the pul^lic humour and ex-
pectation ber;an to change ; and the spirit of
discontent and suspicion became apparent, and
increasijig. The delay of the fleet spread a

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 311

general discontent through the country ; and
early in the fall, the assembly of New York ad-
dressed their commander in chief, to recall
their forces from the camp. Nicholson and
Vetch put an end to the campaign ; and repair-
ed to New Port in Rhode Island, to join in a
congress of colony governors, to consult ^vhat
further attempts they should make against the
enemy. Two or three days before this con
gress met, on October the eleventh, iiitelligencc
was received from England that the Bjitish
ministry had been obliged to give up the pros-
pect of the Canada expedition : I'hat when the
troops were ready to embark, nev/s arrived of
the defeat of their allies hi Portugal, and that
the British ministry had no way to aiford them,
relief, but to order to their assistance the troops
designed for Canada ; and that their attention
was now wholl}- diverted from that expedition.
Upon the rccei])t of this news the assembly of
Massachusetts desired their governor to dioband
their men, and dismiss their transports.

Thus ended tlie second attei>ipt to reduce
Canada. The plan of the expedition. seems to
have been well concerted, but it was not known
how many difficulties would unavoidably attend
the progress of an army tlirough Lake Cham*
])lain ; and how much time it would require.
While Nicholson lay at Wood creek, the gover-
nor of Canada had intelligence of all his motions ;
and sent out an army from Montreal of fifteeu
hundred French and Indians, to oppose him.
The French army set out on the twenty eifi-hth of
July, and in three days advanced forty leagues
towards Nicholson's camp. The intelligence

312 NATURAL AND CIVIL

'r.T-
J

they received, was, that the English arm
amounted to five thousand ; and they concluded
it would be the safest to return to their advan-
ced posts, and receive them there. If Charle-
voix, the French historian, is to be credited,,
the Indians of the five nations were doubtful
vvhether the complete success of the English
army would be best for them. Upon the au-
thority of father Mareuil, who had been a pris-
oner at Albany, he relates that a grand council
of Indians was held at Onondago, that one of
their old men made a speech in the council,
and asjvcd them whether they were not sensible
tliat they were situated between two powerful
nations,, either of which were able to extirpate
their tribes ; and would not fail to do it, when
either of them had fully subdued the other. .
He then advised them not to adopt any measures
that would tend to destroy their own importance *
and. independence; but to pursue their formerpo-
licy, and. to be at peace or war with either nation^:,
as should best tend to keep up the contest be-
tween them. The speech and policy of the
aged Sachem made a great impr-^ssion on the,
assembly ; and according to Mareuil, the Indi-
ans were not active in assisting Nicholson, but
rather wished to pollute the water from which
his army drank, and to impede their progress.
But whatever might be the circumstances, an
event in Portugal put an end to the whole ex-
pedition. And the plan concerted and urged
by the British ministry served no other purpose
than to produce the loss of a great part of Nich-
olson's army, to entail a heavy debt on the En-
glish colonies, to dishonour them in the view

HISTORY OF \nER?>IONT. 313

of the French and Indians, and to spread a gen-
eral discontent and suspicion through the coun-
try.^

The attempt upon Canada having failed, the
frontiers were again involved in blood and de-
struction. \Vhile the preparations were mak-
ing to invade Canada, the French employed all
their arts in managing the Indians who were
attached to them, and engaging them in a vigor-
ous opposition ; but as soon as the danger was
o\'er^ numerous parties were sent out to harrass
the English frontiers. These irruptions were
chiefly made on tlie northern and eastern parts
of New England. Among others, one of their
celebrated partizans, Rouviile, with one hundred
and eighty French and Indians, made another
attempt upon Deerfield. The inhabitants had
but lately returned froiri their cciptivity, and had
not forgot their sufferings. The enemy was
discovered at a distance, the inhabitants rallied,,
bravely defended themselves, and repulsed their
assailants.

New York had as ye^, escaped the Indian
desolation and carnage, being covered by the
Indians of the five nations ; between v.'hom, and
the French and Indiana of Canada, there was
yet subsisting a treaty of friendship andneutral-
it}^ Mr. Hunter, the governor of New York,
was so apprehensive of danger from some of the
confederates, that he made a voyage to Albany,
to renew tlie treaty that subsisted with those na-
tions. While engaged in this business, he was
strongly solicited by the New England govem-

• Smith's Hist. New- York, p. 176. TnimbuU's Hitt. Cennecticwt,p.45?
Hutchinson. Vol. a. p. 162.

TOL. I. P 3

314 NATURAL AND CIVIL

merits to engage the five nations in a waf with-
the Abenaquies, who were daily ravaging their
borders. Attentive chiefly to the interest of the
province of which he was governor, he declined
the measure, lest it should bring hostilities upon
that province. New York commended this
policy as wise, prudent, and salutary to that
province. The New. England governments
condemned it as narrow, partial, and selfish ;
and tending to create distrust, danger, and dis-
union, in the English provinces ; and were loud
in their complaints, tlrat their, enemies found at
Albany, arms and ammunition to carry on the
war again.'jt them, and a good market for all
the spoil and plunder that was taken from themo
Such however was the importance of vigo-
rous measures to preserve the attachment of the
five nations, and to. defend their own frontiers,
that the English Gol^nies still retained the idea
of driving the French out of: Canada. The
congress of governors which .met at Rhode Isl-
and, were agreed in the necessity of this meas--
urc- ; and Nicholson and Vetch who had met
^v'ith them, were fully in the same sentiment.
It was aq;?'eed that an address should be made to
queen Anne, representing the great harmony
and exertions of the colonies in her service, the
necessity of reducing the French in North A?
merica to her government ; and praying her
majest}' to graut to the colonies an armament,
.which with their assistance, should be adequate
to the desif^n y and that aj;cnts should be sent
to Great Britain, to join with Nicholson in rep-
resenting the state of the country, and soliLiting;.
assistance against Canada,

HISTORY OF VERMONT. SIS:;

No man at that time had a more extensive
acquaintance with the affairs of the EngHsh
colonies than colonel Schuyler of Albany. He
fully comprehended the importance of the In-
dian alliance and trade, the necessity of expel-
ling the French from the northern continent,
and the dan.sjer that arose to the English colo-
nies from the diversity of their interests and:
governments,. His influence among the Indians ■
was much greater than that of any other man :
By his liberality and generosity to their chiefs,,
he had impaired his own fortune,, but acquired:
an ascendency that was of much use to his
country. Dissatisiied with the management,
and failure of the expedition, impressed with-
the necessity of vigorous exertions against the
French, he resolved to make a voyage to Eng-
land at his own ex pence ; and to carry with
him five of the Indian sachems,, to give a more
sensible impression to his solicitations at the
British court. The assembly of New York,
had determined to address the queen on the.
subject of a Canada expedition ; and they a-
vailed themselves of Schuyler's intentions, to-
express the sense they had of his mxrits,, and;
to have their address presented by him. .

Schuyler soon embarked from. New York
with the five Indian chiefs, and had a prosper-
ous voyage to England. The manner of his
reception, served to display the knowledge and
prudence^, with which he had concerted his plan.
Kis five Indian kings ^ngaged the attention,
and gave him admission to all orders, companies,
and societies of men in the kingdom. The
lords and commons, the nobility and gentry^.

516 NATURAL AND CIVIL

the clergy, the philosophers, and citizens, all
wanted to see the American Mohanks. The
mob follou'ed them, wherever they went ; and
small portraits of them were every where sold
in the streets. The British court was then in
mourning, on account of the death of the prince
of Denmark ; and it was determined in the
cabinet, that the Mohawk kings should appear
to mourn as well as the rest. The managers
of the play house were to determine upon the
forms, and adjust the ceremonies of their dress ;
and the queen was to be at the expence. The
result was, the five Mohawks came forth array-
ed " in black under cloths, after the English
manner ,- but, instead of a blanket, they had
each a scarlet ingrain cloth mantle, edged with
gold, thrown over all their other garments."
The next part of the business was to adjust
the etiquette of the public audience they were
to have of her most sacred majesty 5 and it was
concluded that profound reasons of state requir-
ed that an extraordinary solemnity should at-
tend this transaction. Sir Charles Cotterel,
master of the ceremonies, conducted them in
two coaches to St. James's ; and the lord cham-
berlain introduced them to the royal presence.
Amidst this scene of parade and ceremony, the
Indians made a speech to the queen, April the
nineteenth, 1710 , the whole object of which was
to persuade her majesty to make another at-
tempt for the conquest of Canada j but the
speech itself, whether owing to the customs of
the British court, to an English composition or
correction, to an adjustment to a royal Euro-
pean ear and importance, or to any other cause,

HISTORY OF VERMONT; 31?

the speech Itself was destitute of the spirit, dig-
nity, energ}^ and independence, with which the
Mohawks always spoke in their own country.*

The speech however had the effect, which
was intended ; it proved acceptable to her most
E^racious majesty ; and Schuyler had the pleas-
ure to see his plan succeed, and the address to-
make his five Indians, of more consequence at
the court of London, than the whole royal fami-
ly would have been in the Mohawk country..

Applications were now before the queen-
from New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode
Island, Connecticut, New York, and the five
nations, seconded by Nicholson and Vetch, and
many other respectable characters, solicitinj| for
another expedition against Canada. The Brit-
ish ministry at first seemed inclined to favor
the business, and encouragement was given thair

• According to CIdmbcon I- acQouDt, the following b a. translation©^
the Indian address.

" Great Queen>

" We haveunSertaken along voyage,\7hich none of our predecessor*!:
could be prevailed upon to undertake, to see our great queen, and relate
to her those things, which we thought absolutely necessary for the good-
of her, and us her allies, on the other side of the water.

" We doubt not but ourgreat queen has been acquainted with our long
and tedious war, in conjunction with her children, against her enemie»
the French ; and that we have been as a strong.wall for their security, even
to the loss of our best nvep, We were mightily rejoiced, when we heard
ourgreat queen had resolved to send an array to reduce Canada, and im-
mediately, in token of friendship, we hung up the kettle, and took up the
hatchet, and, with one consent, assisted colonel Nicholson in making pre--
parations on this side the lake; but, at length, we were told our greats
queen, by some important affairs, was prevented in her design at present,
which made us sorrowful, lest the French, who had hitherto dreaded us,
should now think us unable to make war against them. The reductioa-
of Canada is of great weight to our free hunting ; so that if our freat
queen should not be mindful of us, we must, with our families, forsake the
«;ountry, and seek other habitations, or stand neuter^ cither of which will
be much against our inclinations.

" iNtoken ofthe sincerity of these nations, we do, in their names, pre-
sent our great queen with these belts of Wampum, and in hopes of our
great queen's favor, leave it to her most graciguj coasideratioji." SdjUI*'*.
ll;«t. Ncwyork, p, 138,

518 NATURAL AND CIVIL

it would be taken up the next spring. Nichol-
son came over in July with that expectation,
accompanied by a fleet of five or six frigates,
with orders to raise recruits in the colonies*
They were designed however, not to make an
attempt upon Canada, but to eflfect the reduc-
tion of Fort Royal, and Nova Scotia. The
chief command was given to Nicholson, and he
made an easy conquest of the place on the fifth
of October. In honor to queen Anne the place
was now named Annapolis, and Vetch, who
was adjutant general, was appointed by Nichol-
son to be the governor of the place.

Encouraged b}^ this success, Nicholson in
the fall made another voyage to England to urge
again the Canada expedition. The expectation
of the country had been so much disappointed
by the measures of the British court, that it was
not expected that any assistance would be af-
f©rded. The business however was resumed,
and the ministry fell in with the proposals. Oji
June the eighth, 1711, Nicholson arrived at
Boston, with the intelligence that a fleet might
soon be expected from England ; and with or-
ders that Nev/ England, New York, New Jer-
sey', and Pennsylvania, should have the quotas
assigned to them in readiness to join the expe-
dition. A general meeting of the governors of
the colonies was immediately appointed at New
London ; and while they were holding a coun-
cil upon the subject of their orders, the fleet ar-
rived at Boston but sixteen days after the first
intelligence of the expedition by Nicholson.

The fleet was not furnished either vrith pi-
lots or provisions ; and in addition to the troops

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 519

and stores required of the colonies, they were
culled upon to find provisions for the Enghsh
fleet and ctrmy for ten weeks. It must have
been known to the British ministry that a com-
pliance v/ith these requisitions was impractica-
ble. The colonies, from the nature and cir-
cumstances of the ministerial manae;ement, were
suspicious that nothing would be effected ; and
that in such an event, the policy of the British
cabinet would be, to iay the blame upon them.
Zealous for the expedition, and determined that
no fault or blame should attach to them, they
made the most vigorous exertions to comply
with the requisitions. Troops were raised with
the greatest expedition, provi jions were procur-
ed v/herever they could be found. In some of
the colonies, a price was fixed for them by the
acts of the assemblies ; and in others, the own-
ers were compelled to part wiih them, or to
have them seized by the civil authoritv. The
whole country was in motion, to provide for
the expedition ; and no other business was
much attended to, but the raising of troops, and
procuring military stores.

So general and spirited had been the exer-
tion of the colonies, that in little more than a
month from the arrival of the fleet, the levies
and provisions for the colony army, and for the
fleet, were compleated ; and on the thirtieth of
July, the whole armament s;iiled from Boston
The fleet consisted of fifteen ships of war, from
eighty to thirty six guns, with forty transports,
and six store ships ; under the command cf
Sir Hovenden Walker. The army on board
eontained seven regiments fiom the duke of

520 NATURAL AND CIVIL

Marlborough's troops, and a battalion of ma*
rines : two regiments raised in New Hamp.
shire, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island, were
also embarked. The wliolc amounted to near
seven thousand men, with a fine train of artille-
ry^, and amply provided with the necessary war-
like stores, under the command of brigadier
general Hill. This force was fully competent
to the reduction of Quebec ; which at that time
was not strongly fortified, or in any preparation
to withstand a regular siege by a veteran army»

On the same day in which the fleet sailed
from Boston, Nicholson set out on his journey
to Albany ; and in a few days appeared at the
head of four thousand men. This army was
raised in Connecticut, New York, and New
Jersey. Tlie Connecticut troops were comman*
ded by colonel Whiting, an experienced officer,
who had commanded them the year before at
Port Royal, The New York and New Jersey
troops Vv ere commanded by colonels Schuyler,
and Ingoidsby ; and Schuyler, with his usual
spirit of activity and enterprize, had procured
six hundred Indians of the five nations, to join
the colony troops.

The enemy in Canada were not unacquaint-
ed with these preparations. Vaudrieul, the
governor general, sent his orders from Montreal
to Sieur Beaucourt, to hasten and strengthen
the works at Quebec ; and commanded all the
regular troops ..nd militia to hold themselves in
readiness, to rn^rch on the first alrm or notice.
Four or five hui.dred Indians of the distiint na-
tions, were coliected at Montreal. Several In-
dians, and two missioiiuncs, were sent among

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 32i

the five nations, to detach theni from the Eng-
lish interest. Quebec was ibrtilicd, and put in-
to the best situation that the time v/ould admit,
to sustain a siege ; and all the principal posts
below the city, and on both sides of the river,
were prepared to oppose the landing of the
British troops.

Walker arrived with the fleet in the mouth
of the river St. Lawrence, on the fourteenth of
August. Fearful of losing sight of his trans-
ports, and the wind fresh at the north west, he
put into Gaspe bay ; and continued there till
the twentieth. On the twenty second, two
days after he left the bay, the fleet appeared to
be ill great danger ; v^ithout soundings, without
sight of land, surrounded with a thick fog, and
the wind hi^h at the south east. In this situa-
tioji the ships ^vere brought to, with their heads
to the southward, in expectation of being driven
by the current, into the rnidst of the channel.
Instead of this, about midnis:ht, AuQ-ust the
tv/enty third, the seamen found that they were
driven on the north shore, among the rocks and
islands, and in extreme danger of being lost.
The men of war escaped, but eight transports
were wrecked on Egg Island, near the north
shore ; one thousand of the men perished, and
six or seven hundred were saved by the other
ships. In this distress but one of the colony
vessels v/as lost, and the men of that were sav-
ed ; the adm.iral and general were in great dan-
ger, but escaped by the vessel's coming to an-
chor. The next moniing the wind came round
to W. S. VV. the admiral bore d\vay for Span-
ish river, and the men of war and transports

VOL. I. Q 2

322 NATURA»L AND CIVIL

followed. The wind came round again to the
cast, and '^vouid have carried them to Qnebce
in two days ; but instead of making another at-
tempt, they were eight days beating down the
river, against an easterly wind, before they ar-
rived at Spanish river in tlie island of cape Bre-
ton. At that place a council of war \\as held,
and after some fruitless consultations it was
unanimously resolved, not to make any further
trial to go up the river St. La\ATence, and not to
make any attempt against the French at Pla-
centia in Nev, foundland ; but to return, as soon
as they could, to England. On September the
sixteenth, the fleet sailed for England, and the
American troops and vessels departed for their
respective colonies ; October the ninth, Walk-
er arrived at Portsmouth. Here the scene was
closed ; in addition to the other misfortunes, on
the filteenth, the admiral's ship the Edgar, of
seventy guns, was blow n up ; having on board-
above four hundred m.en, m.any other persons
who came on board to visit their friends, and
most of the admiral's papers.

The army designed to invade Canada by-
way of lake Champlain, had not advanced far
from Albany, belbre they received intelligence
of the disastCT which had attended the fleet.
Nothing remained for Nicholson, but to disband
his army and return. The m.arquis de Vaii-
dricuj liad been at Quebec, waitirig for the arri-
val of the English licet. lie received intelli-
eence bv tlic fishermen, and other vessel'), that
many ships l;ud been stove, that much riuiilary
apparatus, and many dead bodies with red coats
hftd beeft driven on siioix:, and that the river was

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 323

clear of ships ; and he justly concluded that the
English fleet had suftered so much, that they
had given up the idea of making any attempt
upon Quebec. Immediately he ordered the
whole force of Canada towards Montreal, and
lake Champlain ; and formed a camp at Cham-
bly of three thousand men, to op[X)se Nichol-
son's army, should they attempt to penetrate
Canada in that quarter. But he was soon in-
formed that he had nothing to fear from the
colony army ; that Nicholson had returned with
his troops, upon the news of the disaster which
had attended the fleet ; and that the people of
Albany, instead of being engaged in any hostile
attempts against Montreal, were in much anxiety
and fear for their own safety.

Such was the issue of the third attempt to
effect the reduction of Canada. The two for-
mer had served to bring heavy debts upon the
colonies, to destroy a number of their younp-
men, to discourage the public confldence and
expectation, and to abate the attachment of their
Indian allies. This, had not only produced the
same effects, but it served to nil the country
with jealousy and suspicion of the British min-
istry ; with severe charges, and loud complaints
against their conduct. The want of seasonable
intelligence and orders, the late arrival of the
fleet at Boston, the known impossibility of pro-
curing the provisions required v/ithout previous
notice, the complaints and obstinacy of the ad--
miral, the ignorance of the pilots, the secret in-
tentions of the tory ministrv, were subjects of
angry debate and altercation. The remarks of
the whigs in England were still more severe.,

32^ NATURAL AND CIVIL

Lord Harley went so far as to say, in his ac-
count of this expedition, that the whole was a
contrivance of Bolinbroke, More, and the lord
chancellor Harcourt, to cheat the public out of
twenty thousand pounds. No public enquiry
seems to have been made into the matter. It
is more candid to assign the misfortunes of the
jReet to error, than to design. But when every
allowance is made that candor can admit, it will
be extremely dilTicult to believe that the British
minibtrj," at that time were seriously in earnest,
in U'ishing to carry tlieir conquests any further
against France.*

The ill success attending this expedition,
gave to the five nations unfavorable sentiments,
oF the power and policy of the English colonics.
Emissaries were araoDG' them from the u;overnor
of Canada, to seduce them from the English,
and attach them to the French, the better man-
aged and more successful cause. And very se-
rious apprehensions v/ere entertained, that they
v/ere inclining to the French inteiest. The
eastern Indians v/ere encouraged by the failure
of tliC expedition, to harrass the frontiers of
"Massachusetts and New Hampshire ; and m.uch
damage ;vas done the next summer in that part
of the couniry. Dudley, Salstontal and Cran-
ston, the governors of the eastern colonies form-
ed a design to engage the five nations in a rup-
ture with the French, to afford some relief to
their frontiers. But neither the governor, the
assembly of New Yo:k, or the Indians, appear-
ing to favor the plan, the scheme was dropped ;

• Smith's Hiff. New YoTlt,p. 14^. Hutchinson's Hi$t. MassachuieUS
'Yel. 2, p, ifc). Trumbull's TtUnt. CcnneAicut, p.4(5j.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 325

and the eastern colonies defended themselves
with good success, against the inroads of th«
savages.

The European powers had now become tir-
ed of the war. Tlie real interests of the French
court, and the flictions of the British, inclined
tliem to terms of peace ; and on March the
thirty first, the treaty of Utrecht was signed,
by the plenipotentiaries of Great Britain and
France. The fifteenth article of this treaty was
designed to prevent any further interference of
either power to molest, or to influence the In-
dians to war. The plenipotentiaries seem to
liave scarcely known whether to call the Indians,
allies, friends, or subjects ; but the Indians
themselves perfectly well knew, that they did
not mean to be in subjection to either of the
European powers, or to their colonies ; but to
preser^•c their independence, and make the most
that they could of their trade, and of their quar-
rels-

Wh e n the news of this treaty became known
in America, the Indians every where appeared
ta be disposed to peace. On the eleventh of
July, 1713, the eastern Indians had a treaty
with the governors of Massachusetts and Ne*v
Hampshire, at Casco bay ; they renewed tlieir
professions of allegiance,, engaged to be at {>eace
with the English, and to prevent all hostilities
for the future. Though little confidence could
be placed in such treaties, such had been the
sufferings occasioned hy the war, that this a-
greement with the Indians was considered as a
matter of great benefit xmd joy to all parties ;
and the country hrid the prospect of that U&u-

VOL. I (^3

32G NATURAL AND CIVIL

quility, which the people so much needed and
^desired.

Peace with tlie savas^cs however could not
be of long duration. The English were con-
stantly extending their settlements to the east-
ward. The Indians claimed t^ie lands, and an
•opposition of interests was constant!}- producing
jealousies and complaints on both sides : the
governor of Canada availed himself of so favor-
;able an opportunity to encourage and assist the
Indian animosity, without appearing to take any
avowed part in the business. Insults and rava-
ges soon succeeded, which terminated in burn-
ing the property, and captivating the inhabitants
in the advanced settlements : And from 1720
to 1725, a war was carried on with great vio-
lence between the Indians in the eastern parts of
Canada, and the provinces of Massachusetts and
New Hampshire, Few wars have ever been
more bloody or destructive. But as the crov/ns
of Great Britain and France were then at peace,-
this war could not be carried on with the open
assistance of tlic French government, and of
course did not become general among the In-
dian tribes. To prevent such a calamity there
was a congress of the Ensclish e-ovcrnors and
ceanmissioncrs, to renew the ancient friendship
v/fth the Indians at Albany ; and Mr. Burnet,
governor of New York, prevailed upon them to
send a mcscagc to the eastern Indians, threaten-
ing them vv'ilh ^^■ar, unless tliey concluded 'Jl
peace v.ith the Engiisli. 'I'he Indian war be-
came of course confined to the eastern jxirts,
and did not extend to the province of Newyork,
or to any of the setilenients in the vicinity of

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 327

lake Champlain ; and was concluded by a trea-
tv with the Indians at Falmouth, in the year
1725. At this period both the English and
French were extremely cautious to preserve the
friendship of the five nations, as they had lately
received a very considerable addition to their
strength. Above eighty Nicariagas, with their
women and children, had repaired to their terri-
tories, from the country north of Missilimakinac j
and the whole tribe of Tuscaroras, who posses-
sed a large tract of country near the sources of
James' river in Virginia, had also removed aixl
settled near the south east end of the lake Onei-
da. This event had augn-iented the Indian im-
portance ; and instead oi" calling themselves tlic
five, they now assumed the name of the six na-
tions ; and like the European powers, felt the
comfort and pride of increased territory, popu-
lation and power.

From the treaty of Utrecht, a long period
succeeded, in which there was peace between
the British and French courts. Their colonies
in America, were now enjoying the benefits of it ;•
but neither of them were inattentive to tiieir fu-
ture prospects or interests. Aware of the in-
creasing power of the English colonies, and the
threatening aspect which it had on the growth
and safety of their own, the court of France h&d
adopted a regular and systematic plan of con-
duct and policy. Tlscir aim v/as to seize all
tliC important posts and passes from Canada to
Eouisiana, to fordfy the commanding situations,
raid thus to command the Indians, secure their
trade and dependence, and confine the English
to a narrow limit along the sea coast, and pre-

328 NATURAL AND CIVIL.

vent their extending any further into the Indiaa
or inland countries. Mr. Burnet, the intelli-
gent and vigilant governor of New York, well
acquainted H'ith the geography of tlie country,
very justly concluded that the most effectual
method of counteracting the French pursuits,
would be to get the command of lake Ontario.
For this purpose, in the year 1722, he began to
erect a trading house at Oswego, in the country
of the Senecas : and to make it a place of in-
creasing strength, trade, and general resort.
Nothing could more naturally excite the jeal-
ousy, and alarm the feai's of the French, than
this proceeding of governor Burnet. An Eng-
lish tmding house and fort at the mouth of O-
nondago river, could not fail to injure their
trade, to introduce the English into the heart of
the Indian country, and without a considerable
naval force on their part, would give them the
command of lake Ontario, and divert the In- ^
dians from their customary route and resort to
fort Frontenac. Determined at all events to
preserve the Indian trade, and the command of
lake Ontario, in the year 1726, they launched
two vessels in the lake ; and transported mate-
rials to build a large store house and to repair
the fort at Niagara. The French already com-
manded the entrance into the lake at the eas.t
end, by fort Frontenac ; if they could now se-
cure the navigation by their vessels, and the en-
trance into the west end of the lake by the fort
and trade at Niagara, they would efiect their
purpose and render Oswego useless to the Eng-
lish, by carrying the Indian trade two hundred
miles further to the west. The English and

mSTORY OF VERMONT. 32^

French governors exerted themselves on these
occasions ; wrote, complained, and sent mes-
sengers to each other ; tried to engage their
European sovereigns to interfere ; flattered, de-
ceived, and made speeches to the Indians, to
convince them that all they meant was to pro-
mote their safety, by taking possession of their
country : thus murmuring and wondering at the
injustice and fraudulence of each ctlier's pro-
ceedings, they agreed in the event, to keep firm
possession of all the posts they had established
in the Indian territory.

1 2-7 this kind of enterprise and manoeuvre, the
French generally discovered the most activity
and address : and v/hile the attention of New
York was taken up with the affairs of the west-
ern lakes, the French determined to make near-
er approaches to the vicinity of Albany. In
puri>aancc of this plan, in the year 1731, they
came up lake Champlain with a considerable
force ; and immediately began to erect a fort at
Crown Point. No measure could have been
better adapted to yjromote their own interest.
It was through lake. Champliiin that their troops
had m.arched in their expeditions as-ainst Sche-
nectady, the Mohawk's castles, and Deerficld.
It was through this lake that their scouting par-
ties found the most easy, and the safest pas;jagc,
in their excursions ao'ainst the Ensrlish colonies.
In all the attempts of the English to effect the
conquest of Canada, the attacks upon Montreal
were always contemplated to have been effected
by the waters of lake Champlain. To erect a
fortress at the south end of this lake, was to se-
cure the whole navigation of it ; and the com-

330 NATURAL AND CIVIL

Jnand of a large portion of the English and In-
dian frontjer. From this commanding situation
the French could not only prevent the attempts
<j<f the English to penetrate into their own coun-
try, but would always have a magazine of armt
and ammunition, to supply their own troops and
scouting parties ; and an asylum, to which the
Indians might readily retreat, from their plun-
dering and scalping expeditions against the
English frontiers. And by means of the river
Sorel, and the lake, it might always be reinfor-
ced in three or four days ; or receive any sup-
plies, without difficulty or danger.

The French garrison was at first placed on
the east side of the lake, and the settlement was
begun, in what is now the town of Addison.
On the western side, a more convenient and
«afe situation was found ; in which the harbour
"was good, and the fortress would be surrounded
by v/ater on three of its sides. On this spot,
now called Crown Point, the French erected a
fort suificiently strong to resist any force, that
could be suddenly, or easily brought against it ;
and gave it the name of St. Frederick. Th-e
land on which it was erected, properly belonged
-toi the six nations ; but was claimed by the go-
vernment of New York, and had been granted
by one of their governors, so early as 1696, to
Dellius, the Dutch minister of Albany. The
designs of the French, and the dangerous con-
sequences attending the erection of their new
fort, were well understood in the English colo-
nies. The Massachusetts s-overnment was not
a little alarmed. Mr. Belcher, their governor,
gave the first information to the government of

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 531

New York,' of the French proceedings. He
wrote to Mr. Van Dan;, president of their
council, on the subject ; informed him that the
Massachusetts assembly had voted to bear their
proportion of the txpence of a messenger
to Canada, to forbid the works, and urged
him to engage the opposition of the six nations.
New York, at that time agitated with internal
controversies, pair* very Httle attention to the
business. Oi. February the fourth, 1732, Van
Dam laid Belcher's letter before his council :
With a singular weakness and want of spirit,
they advised him to write to the commissioners
of Indian aifairs at Albany, and make inquiry
whether the land belonged to the confederates
or to the river Indians. Their passiveness on
this occasion was the more unaccountable, as
the British crown at that time supported four
independent companies at an annual expence of
75001. sterling, for the protection of that pro-
vince. Thus were the French suffered to ad-
vance nearly two himdrcd miles towards Alba-
ny ; and to erect a fortress, which would ena-
ble them in any future war, to make their as-
saults with safety and success, on the frontiers
of New York, Massacliusetts, and New Hamp-
shire.*-

While the English and French colonies
appeared thus suspicious, and preparing for each
ether, both of them enjoyed the substantial a-id
uninterrupted blessings of peace. The pacliic
disposition of the European courts at that time,
and the mutual interests of the colonies, made

•

• .SD.>kh.'s Hist. New Yoife.

332 NATURAL AND CIVIL

all parties carefully avoid the appearance of hos-
tilities. 1'hty were enjoying the benefits of
mutual trade and commerce, and the Indians
were unusualiy pacific ; every where appeiU'ing
nnore dis])Oscd to trade and fricndbhip, than to
hostility and war. To the English, this state of
})eace was peculiarly beneficial ; for although
the French generally exceeded them in the
management and activity of a predatory war,
the Enelish colonies were far superior in the
;iiTaJrs of agriculture, commerce, forming ntvr
settlements, improving the fisheries, and other
arts of peace : And they could not but wish
for a continuance of that state, which not only
contributed to increasing extent, population,
".vealth. and safctv ; but was every year e:iving
them the superiority over tb.e French colonies.
Souie ijcrsons began to flatter themselves that
the Indians had in fact changed their habits ;
and had no hostile events taken place in Europe,
it is not improbable that peace v/ould have con-
tinued for many years longer in the AmericaQ
colonies.

In the year 1740, the affairs of commerce
had involved the crov. ris of Great Britain and
Spain in mutual hostilities. Declarations of
war ensued ; and in conformity to the Europe-
an custom and policy, the war spread over a
great part of Europe. Fiance soon became en-
gaged in it, and a declai-ation of war ensued be-
tween Great Britain and France, March 31,
1744 ; of course, their colonies and Indian al-
lies were again to be involved in destructive
and bloody contents. The scene of both was
opened in Nova Scotia ; and the French, with

MiSTORY OF VERMONT. 333

their lisual activity and impetuosity, began the
business by invading the island of Canseau ;
they took the island, burned the houses, de-
stroyed the fishery, and made the garrison and
inhabitants, their prisoners.

To savages, the horrors and phnider of war
are so agreeable, that when the flame is once
kindled, they delight to increase and expand it ;
and notwithstanding the long period of peace
and friendship, they very readily embraced the
opportunity to fall upon the English frontiers.
In these incursions, the advantages which the
fort and settlement at Crown Point gave to the
French and Indians, were soon and severely
felt. In the first year of the war, but little
damage was done ; but in the course of the
next year, scouting and ravaging parties of
French and Indians every where appeared, and
carried destruction and slaughter around the
frontiers of the English colonies. Mr. Shirley j
governor of Massachusetts, was at that time the
most active and enterprising of any governor
in the English colonies. His attention was
chiefly taken up in the year 1745, in planning
and executing the important and successful ex-
pedition against the French settlements in the
island of Cape Breton. During that summer,
and the next, the Indians in small parties were
killing, scalping, and plundering, wherever they
could find a defenceless party or family.

The most advanced fortress at that time in
Massachusetts, was a fort at Floosick, since
Williamstown. This fort was erected at the
breaking out of the war, to cover the western
parts of the province from the Indian depreda-

voL. I. R 2

334 NATURAL AND CIVIL

tioiis, and bore the name of the province. In
August 1746, an army of about nine hundred
French and Indians set out from Crowa
Point, under the command of M. de Vaudrieul,
to attack this place. They came before it, Au-
gust the tvyentieth. The fort was commanded
by colonel Hawks ; but thirty tliree persons
were in the garrison, including women and
children ; and the fort was not properly provi-
ded with ammunition. Hawks defended the
place with much fortitude and spirit, but at the
end of twenty eight hours, he had expended
his powder, and was obliged to propose terms
of capitulation. It was agreed that the garrisoii
should be prisoners of war, but that none of
them should be delivered to the Indians. The
day after the capitulation was eompleated, Vau-
drieul divided the prisoners, and delivered the
one half of them to the Indians ; one of the
prisoners being unable to travel, was immedi-
ately killed. The French general, when ac-
cused of an open violation of the capitulation,
assigned as the reason for his conduct, the state
of his army ; that they were in danger of a
mutiny, the Indians being highly irritated- that
they were by the capitulation deprived of their
part of the plunder and prisoners. Hawks lost
but one man in the siege ; and supposed he
could have preserved the fort, had he been
supplied with ammunition and provisions.
From the best accounts that he could procure,
the enemy, in those that were slain or died pf
their wounds, lost forty five of their men in this
enterprise,

Mr. Shirley, to the astonishment of all

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 335

Europe, having succeeded In eiFectIng the con-
quest of Louisbourg by the New-England
troops, was deeply engaged in a plan for the re-
duction of the French dominions in the northern
parts of America. For this purpose in the fall
of 1745, he had written to the British Ministry,
soliciting the aid of a fleet and army to attempt
the conquest of Quebec, while the colony forces
should be engaged in an expedition against
Crown Point, The British Ministry agreed to
the proposals, and Shirley with his usual spirit
of energy and enterprise, engaged all the New-
England provinces, and New-York in the pro-
posed expedition. The provinces, animated
by the success at Louisbourg, pursued the bu-
siness with great eagerness j their troops were
raised early in the season, and they waited all
summer, impatient for intelligence and orders
from England. In this state of impatience and
expectation, the news came that a large fleet
and army from France, had arrived at Nova-
Scotia, commanded by the duke D'Anville ;
that it was designed, and povv'erful enough to
recover Louisbourg, take Annapolis, to break
up the settlements on the eastern coast of Mas-
sachusetts, and effect the conquest of Boston,
and perhaps of New- York. Engkmd was not
more alarmed by the approach of the Spanish
armada in 1588, than was Boston, and the other
sea ports, on this occasion. Alarm and terror
ran through the country, an^ nothing was to be
seen or heard, but preparations to defend the
maritime towns, and sea coasts. An uncom-
mon series of m.isfortunes, losses, storms and
shipwrecks^ destroyed the power, aud defeated

336 NATURAL AND CIVIL

the designs of the French armada ; and those
cf their ships, that escaped destruction by the
storms and seas, returned singly to France,
without having made any attempts upon the.
Enghsh colonies. When the alarm occasioned
by the French fleet had subsided, and it became
Icnown that it was nearly destroyed, and was at-
tempting to return to France, Mr. Shirley's
hopes revived that he might still effect some-
thing against the enemy. So much was he
engaged in the business, that he proposed to
make the attacks upon the enemy in the midst
of winter ; that the New-Hampshire troops
sliould proceed by the way of Connecticut riv-
er, to the Indian village of St. Francis, and lay
it waste ; and that the Massachusetts, Connec-
ticut, and New- York troops, at the same time
should move on throi^gh lake George, and at-
tempt the conquest of Crovyn I'oint. Such
was Mr. Shirky's influence at that time, that
all the provinces which had raised, troops for
the expedition, agreed to his proposal of a win-
ter campaign, except Connecticut, To that
colony, such an experiment appeared too dan-
gerous and uncertain ; and it was owing to
their refusal to join in it, that the winter expe^
dition was given up.*

On Connecticut river, the most advanced
settlement at that time, was at a place called
Number Four, now Cliarlestown in New-
Hampshire. A fort had been built there some
years before, which was designed to protect the^
settlements and forts in the vicinity. From the.

*- Belknap's Hist. New Hami^hire, Vol. a, p. 2^4.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 33T

eommencemcnt of the war several parties of In-
dians had appeared at that place ; and at dif-
ferent times had killed, and captivated some of
the inhabitants, and frequently destroyed their
cattle. In the spring of the year 1747, the en-
emy made an attempt to take the fort, and de-
stroy the settlement. On the fourth of April,
M. Debeline caine before it with a large party
pf French and Indians, It was defended by
captain Stevens, an able and judicious officer.
The enemy commenced their attack by firing
at the fort, on all sides, with their muskets.
These making little or no impression, they next
attempted to burn the fort by setting fire to the
fences, log houses, and other buildings ; and
by discharging against it flaming arrows. Hav-
ing tried these methods for two days without
success, they next prepared a wheel carriage,
loaded with dry faggots, This machine they
pushed before them to set fire to the fort, while
it served to protect them from the fire of the
garrison. These attempts were defeated by
the bravery and prudence of Stevens and his
men. Debeline then urged Stevens to surren-
der the garrison, and be conducted to Montreal
as prisoners of war ; threatening to storm the
fort and put all to the sword, if this was refus-
ed. In answer he was told that the garrison
had determined to defend the fort to the last
extrernit}'. On the morning of the third day it
was proposed, if Stevens would sell them pro-
visions they would depart. This also was re-
fused ; but Stevens informed them he would
give five bushels of corn for any captive, for
whom they would give an hostage, till tliey

^38 NATURAL AND CIVIL

could be brought from Canada. On receiving'
this answer a few guns "were fired, and Debe-
line with his troops withdrew to Crown Point,
Sir Charles Knowles, a commodore in the Brit-
ish navy, was then in Boston harbor ; and so
inuch did he admire the bravery, and soldier
like conduct of Stevens in defending his fort,
that he presented him with a valuable and ele-
gant sword, as a testimony of respect. From
this circumstance it was that the town when in-
corporated by the government received the
name of Charlestown.*

During the reniainder of this war the In-
dians were scattered around the frontiers in
small parties, and did much damage to the in-
habitants ; burning tlieir houses, destroying
their cattle, pillaging their property, killing
some of the inhabitants, and making captives of
others ; but there was not any regular expedi-
tion undertaken by the French till the treaty of
peace at Aix la Chapelle of October the seventh,
1748, put an end to the war, between the Eng-
lish and French colonies. But it was not till
the cext year, that the Indians ceased from theix'
hostilities.

Belknap's Hist. New Han^p sliire. Vol. a. p. ijl.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 329

CHAPTER XI.

War. Frofn the year 1750 to 11 SI. Confer*
iences at Parts. Measures of the French,
Embassy and defeat of Washington, Views
of the English and French colonies. CongresSy
and plan of union at Albany. Council of gen-
erals and governors at Alexandria, Expedi-
tion and defeat of Braddock. Success oj
Monckton and Wmslow in Nova Scotia,
Proposed expedition to Niagara. Proceed-
ings of baron Dieskaii at lake Champlain,
Victory of Johnson at lake George. Terniina-
iion of the campaigns of 1755. Military ar-
rangements of the British miyiistry i?i 1756.
Capture of Oswego by Montcalm. Inactivity
of the earl of London,

1752. BY the treaty of Aix la Chap-
pelle, the controversy between the British and
French crowns relative to their claims in A-
merica was referred to commissioners to be ap-
pointed by the two sovereigns for that purpose.
These commissioners met at Paris in the year
1752, of V\7hich Mr. Shirley, governor of Mas-
sachusetts, was one. They laboured much to
establish the claims of their respective sover-
eigns by virtue of ancient grants, maps, treaties,
priority of discovery, ceremonies of taking pos-
session, concessions, and such other grounds of
claim, as were then customary among sover-
eigns ; and were supposed to be matters of real
weight and importance. The commissioners
were not able to come to any agreement ; and

m Natural and civil

no other advantage resulted from their labors
and controversies, tlian a well written account
of their conferences, containing much historical
and geographical information.

1753. In the mean time the settlers in the
English and French colonies, were making
nearer approaches to each other ; and their ru-
lers were anxious on both sides to seize the
most favorable situations and passes for new
forts and trading houses. These interferences
of the colonists took place the most in the pro-
vinces of Nova- Scotia, New- York, and Virgi-
nia. In these encroachments the French arener-
ally discovered the most foresight, vigilance,
and activity. They surprised Logstown, which
the Virginians had built upon the Ohio ; made
themselves masters of the block-house, and
truck-house, with the stores of twentv thousand
pounds value, and destroyed the British traders ;
An officer, with a large force came down the
Ohio, and reduced a fort, which the Virginians
had built on the forks of the Monongehala.
The marquis Du Quesne was at that time in-
Vested with the chief command in New-France.
I Of an active and enterprising genius^ in the
year 1753, he began a fort and settlement on
the banks of the Ohio, at the place from whence
he had driven the English, now called Pitts-
burgh ; designed to secure a station on that
beautiful and extensive river, which should en-
gross the trade, and command the Indians in the
adjacent parts of the country. The governor
of Virginia, Mr. Dinwiddie, was alarmed at so
near approach of the French to the settlements
In that province. On October the thirty first

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 541

he \rrote to the commander of the French
troops, complaming of sundry acts of hostility ;
and desiring to be informed, by what authority,
the French troops had taken possession of a
territory belonging to his master, the king of
Great Britain.

It was on this occasion that the name of
George Washington was first announced
to the world. Governor Dinwiddie gave him a
major's commission, and appointed him to be
the bearer of his letter to the commander of the
French troops. In the winter, and through a
scene of much suffering and danger, major
Washington executed the business of his com-
mission with that intrepid, determined, perse-
vering spirit, which, since that period, has so
much engaged the attention and applause of his
country, and of the world. M. Legardeur de
St. Pieire, commander of the French troops on
the Ohio, returned an answer, December th^
fifth, full of spirit and resolution, declaring the
country to belong to the French king ; and an-
nouncing hFs determination to obey his orders,
preserve his post, and retain a situation so fa-^
"^'orable to defence and strength.

1754. Convinced by the spirited and re-
solute answer of the French commander that
further encroachments were to be expected, the
governor and general assembly of Virginia de-
termined to make a serious op]30sition to the
French establishments on the Ohio, In Februr
ary 1754, the assembly voted to raise three
hundred men, for the protection of their fron-
tiers. Washington at that time was a young
gentleman of twenty two years of a^e. Hi*

VOLc I. S ^

342 NATURAL AND CIVIL

conduct, in the embas^ to the French eoni'
mander, had proved highly satisfactory to the
governor and council ; and he was now ap-
pointed lieutenant colonel, aod the command of
the troops was assigned to him. In addition to
the men raised in Virginia, two independent
companies of foot were ordered by the king to
march from New- York to the frontiers of Vir-
ginia and Pennsylvania.

On iVpril the third, Washington set out frorai
Alexandria at the head of a little army of one
hundred and sixty seven men. On May the
twenty eighth, they had a skirmish with an ad-
vanced party of the French ; of which nine
were" killed, with M. de Jumonville their com-
mander, and twenty one were taken prisoners-
A reverse of fortune soon took place : While
Washington was waiting with about three hun-
dred men for a reinforcement, he received intel-
ligence that the French were advancing with a
body of nine hundred m«n, and two hundred
Indians. On July the third he was attacked
by a force greatly superior to his own, under
the command of De Villier ; and after a resist-
ance of three hours, found it necessary to sub-
mit to the superior force of the enemy. The
terms that were offered to him were of an hu-
miliating nature, but he was no longer in a situ-
ation to refuso the demands of the enemy, and
was obliged to capitulate. In this engagement
the English had thirty killed, and fifty wounded.
De Villier reported his loss to be but two
Frenchmen, and one Indian killed, and seven-
teen wounded ; and boasted tliat by making
^ese of the Frendi language, the terms of the

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 34S

capitulation were so expressed, as to make the
English acknowledge that they had committed
murder in the case and camp of his brother Ju-
monville ; and that the favors manifested to
them in the capitulation, were designed to show
how much they desired to treat them as friends.
Hostilities being thus commenced, and some of
the Indians slain, it was known that in confor-
mity to what had always been the maxims and
customs of the savages, the other tribes would
immediately engage, and an Indian war w^ould
commence from one end of the British colonies
to the other. And before the summer was
ended, the Indians all round the frontiers from
Virginia to the province of Maine, appeared to
be in arms, and began their attacks upon the
English.

Such was the commencement of war in
1754 ; a war, in which all Europe was soon to
be involved ; and by which, the empire and
destinies of North America were to be decided.
The French, with a policy superior to the Eng-
lish, had for several years been pursuing an uni-
form and systematic plan of colonization.
Their settlements in Canada and Louisiana were
at a great distance from each other. By means
af the lakes, and the rivers St. Lawrence and
Mississippi, they had found situations by which
these settlements might be connected by a chain
of posts and forts. The plan they were execj.!-
ting, was to take possession of all the comman-
ding situations from one colony to the other ;
to erect forts and trading houses, not far from
each other ; and thus to command the trade,
exclude the Englkh from the Indian country^

544 NATURAL AND CIVIL

comm^i-ce, and alliance, arid confine them to %
narrow limit along the sea coast, and prevent
their extending any further to the westward.
The English colonies saw their policy, and were
cilarmed with the measures they were so inces-
santly and zealously pursuing ; and determined
to employ their superior numbers and power,
to oppose the French proceedings ; and to ef-
fect some plan to produce a greater uniformity
in their councils and measures. Both parties
had long been in the habit of trying to engage
the Indian tribes in their quarrels, and to in-
fiame the savage vengeance against their oppo-
sers*. They had now approached so near to
each other in their settlements, that a constant
interference of views, interests and situations,
could not fail to make their commerce precari-
ous, and their neighborhood full of animosity-
and danger. As peace could no longer be ex-
pected between the English and French colo-
riies, the period seemed to be now come in
"which the grand contest must take place, which
of the countries should be subdued ; and whether
France or England for the futin-e, should have
the empire of North America. And all p.sriies
now set themselves very seriously to prepare
for the exertion of all their powers and strengths
Tfi E first step necessary for the English col-
onies, was to agree upon some plan of Uniorty
for their mutual protection and operations. The
British secretary of state wrote to the governors
of the colonies, urging such a measure, and a
favorable opportunity now presented to make
the attemi)t. A Contrress of Commissioners
from the colonies hiid been appointed at Albany,

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 345

for the purpose of holding a conference with the
six nations, and to consult on measures for the
general interest and welfare. Governor Shirley
proposed to the several governors, that their
commissioners should be instructed on the sub-
ject of an l/?iion among the colonies.

On the fourteenth of June, the commissioners
assembled, and on the eighteenth, the Congress
was opened. It consisted of delegates from
New- Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode-Island,
Connecticut, New- York, Pennsylvania, and
Maryland. They agreed to take their places in
geographical order, beginning at the north ; and
having adjusted their ceremonies and rules of
proceeding, on the twenty ninth they were ready
to treat with the Indians, who had been assem-
bled for that purpose. The ceremonies and
formality that generally attend an Indian treaty,
render it a matter both of curiosity and instruc-
tion. The arrangement that was adopted on
this occasion, was designed to give importance
to the transaction. Mr. Dc Lancey, lieutenant
governor, and at that time commander in chief
of New- York, within whose territory the lands
of the six nations chiefly lay, was appointed
speaker to address the Indians. On his light
hand were the commissioners from the colonies ;
on his left hand, were the council of New- York,
officers, and citizens of rank and respectability.
In the front were the Sachems and chiefs of the
six nations, attended by many of their tribes 5
arranged jn a circular form, and preserving a
solemn silence. The speech turned on the cus-^
ternary topics, how much the French injured
aad abused, and how much the English loved

54d NATURAL AND CIVIL

and benefitted them ; and that they now valued
their friendship in the highest degree, and
should probably soon want their assistance to
conquer and extiqoate the French. To give
weight to their eloquence, and to make more
effectual impressions on the savage mind, a val-
uable present was made to the Indians by order
of the British king ; and several of the colony
governments, on this occasion followed the ex-
ample of their sovereign, and endeavored by
their donations to secure the Indian friendship
and forbearance to their particular provinces.
At no time had the presents made to the In-
dians amounted to so large a sum, and no art
or address was spared to secure their friendship.
The Indians perfectly well understood the bu-
siness, and were vv'ell pleased with the presents,
and with the attention that the British king and
colonies had paid to them. Their answer was
expressive of gratitude, and of a sense of their
own importance ; and they very plainly told the
commissioners, that the Knglish were not enough
attentive to tlieir business and interest :. That
in the last war they had deserted some of their
own forts ; that theii* frontier city, Albany, was
almost in a defenceless state ; and that the
French managed the business of fortifying and
maintaining their garrisons, much better than
liie English had done.

The treaty with the Indians being finished,
the next business of the commissioners was to
form some plan of general union, and defence for
all the colonies. The commissioners were a-
mong the first men in the colonies for rank, a-
biii^e-s, fortune, and influence* Instead ef

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 34/

•ontcmplating any such events as a contest with
Great Britain, or an American Independence,
the question was how to establish such an un-
ion and gx)vernment among the colonies, as
should prevent their destruction aud conquest
by the French. One member from each colo-
ny was appointed for this purpose ; Atkinson
of New-Hampshire, Hutchinson of Massachu-
setts, Hopkins of Rhode-Island, Pitkin of Con-
necticut, Smith of New- York, Franklin of
Pennsylvania, and Tasker of Maryland. In
adjusting a plan of union and defence, different
political sentiments were found to prevail.
Some were fearful of throwing too much power
into the hands of the king, and others were as
much afraid of giving too much power to the
colonies. Alarmed however on all sides with
the increasing power and policy of France, they
were extremely cautious not to break on these
points, and in a few days agreed upon a result.
Their plan was, that application should be made
to the parliament of Great Britain for an act to
constitute a Grand Legislative Council in the
colonies. This council was to consist of dele-
gates from the several Legislative assemblies,
subject to the controui of a president general,
to be appointed by the crown, and to have a
negative voice. This council were to enact
general laws ; apportion the quotas of men and
money, to be raised by each colony ; determine
the building of forts ; regulate the operation of
armies ; and concert all measures for the com-
mon protection and interest. The delegates of
Connecticut alone entered their dissent, and
their objection was against the negative voic^?-
assigned to the crown.

54^ NATURAL AND CiViL

With the plan of union and defence, a ver)*"
just representation was made to the king, of the
State and danger of the American colonies ; and
copies of both were laid before the several as-
semblies. But the plan of American union and
defence had the singular fortune of being re-
jected, both by the mother country, and by the
colonies : By Great Britain, because it assigned
too many, and too important powers to the pro-
vincial assemblies ; and by the assemblies, be^
cause it assigned such extensive and important
J)Owers to the sovereign, and his ministers*
Thus at the very time when the fears and ap-
J^rehensions of Great Britain, and her American
colonies, were at an unusual height, both were
fearful of the consequences of new arrange*
ments ; and endeavored with singular caution
to guard against any questions, that might arise
respecting the prerogatives of the king, or the
liberties of the colonies. The plan of American
union was agreed to on the fourth day of July
1754 ; but not a single member of the congress
that drew it up, had an idea that they were en-
gaged in a plan, which it was in the destinies of
nature and providence to compleat, in the course
of twenty two years from that day.*

While these measures were going on al
Albany, Mr. Shirley was employed in securing
the eastern ]-)arts of Massachusetts ; and built
the forts of Richmond and Western, to protect
the inhabitants, and check the Indians, in that
part of the country. Nor was the court of
Great Britain inattentive to American matters :•

* Ballaiap 's I-Jijj, N>:7 Har^.j^sjiks, Vol. 2. p. 22J».

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 349

On *N"ovember the twenty fifth, major general
Braddock was appointed j^eneral and comman-
der in chief of all the troops which were to be
sent to, or raised in North America ; and was or-
dered to repair to Virginia with two Irish regi-
ments, and to be ready for the military opera-
tions of the next spring.

1755. Intent on prosecuting the war with
vigor, in the beginning of the year 1755, Mr.
Shirley convened the assembly of Massachu-
setts, and communicated to them the plan that
Tie had formed for reducing fort Frederick at
Crown Point, the ensuing spring ; and his in-
tention to appoint colonel Johnson of New-
York to the command. The assembly readily
concurred in the measures proposed by the go-
vernor ; and voted to raise their quota of tlie
troops. The plan being thus adopted by Mas-
sachusetts, commissioners were sent to the
neis'hborins' "-overnments statin"; the assistance
that was desired of them, and requesting their
concurrence and aid. Thus were the New-
England provinces, New- York, and New- Jer-
sey, all put in motion for a vigorous expedition
against the French.

While Shirley was thus m.oving all the
northern provinces, Braddock arrived at Wilr-
liamstown in Virginia, February the twentieth,
wiftftwo Irish regiments. Expresses were im-
mediately sent to the governors of the colonies
to meet him at Alexandria on die thirteenth of
April, for a consultation on the state of Ameri-
can aSairs, and the business of the approaching
c:impaign. Tlie convention met as was propos-
ed, and the next day entered upon tlic bu-sines.s

VOL. r. T 2

S50 NATURAL AND CIVIL

of the ensuing season. At this convention the
governors of Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania,
New- York, and Mssachusctts attended ; with
colonel Johnson, commissioner of Indian affairs.
It ;vas found that Braddock had positive orders,
to proceed himself with the greatest expedition,
to reduce the French fort Du Quesne, on the
Ohio. Nothing more was therefore in his pow-
er, than to settle some general arrangements for
the campaign with the convention ; and to leave
the execution to others, as he was himself very
little acquainted with the state of things in A-
merica.*

At this convention it was concluded that four
expeditions should be carried on against the
French in the course of the summer. One a-
gainst fort Du Quesne, under the command of
Braddock. Another was to be against Niagara,
under the direction of Shirley. A third against
Crown Point, under the command of Johnson ;
and a fourth against the French forts and settle-
ments in the bay of Fundy and Nova Scotia ;
to be commanded by colonel Monckton, a Brit-
ish officer, but to be executed chiefly by New
England troops under the command of colonel
Winslow. The plan of operations for the cam-
paign being thus adjusted, the convention dis-
solved ; and Braddock, Shirley, Johnson and
Monckton prepared themselves for the expedi-
tions, of which they were to take the immediate
command.

Braddock was a major general in the Brit-
ish army ; a man of undoubted courage, and

* Review of military cperationi in North America, p. lo. S'opposei
io be vrote by Mr. Smith of New York.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 351

expert in all the punctilios of a review, having
been brought up in the English guards. In his
manners he was haughty, positive and difficult
of access. Though well acquainted witli the
European method of war, he had no idea of the
service in a country thinly inhabited and every
where abounding with woods, mountains, rivers,
morasses, and dangerous defiles. And so at-
tached was he to the European customs of re-
gular discipline and order, that he despised his
provincial and Indian auxiliaries ; and treated
with Gontempt the advice of those, who endeav-
ored to give him information of the Indian
methods of attack ; and to warn him of the dan-
ger of ambush, and surprise. On the twentieth
of April, he set out with an army of twenty two
hundred men, from Alexandria; and after the
most extreme difficulties and exertions, arrived
on the ninth of July, at the river Monongahala.
Having passed the river about noon, he was
within seven miles of fort Du Quesne, the object
of his hopes and wishes. Marching on in per-
fect seeurit}^ and with the most confident ex-
pectation of victory and fame, in an instant his
army was alarmed with the Indian yell ; and
attacked on every side, by a concealed party of
French and Indians. Eraddock exerted himself
with much courage in the manner of an Euro-
pean battle ; but the European discipline, artil-
lery, and arms, availed him nothing. He nei-
ther knew where his enemy was, or how to op-
pose their arts and methods of war : Having
exerted himself to the utmost, and to no man-
ner of purpose, he himself and the greater part
©f bi« army were slain, by a party of about four

'352 NATURAL AND CIVIL

hundred Indians, placed in ambush, safe from
his arms, and almost concealed from his sight.
Thus despising his American friends and ene-
mies, the British general fell a sacrifice to the
superior knowledge and arts of the American
Indians : And it was owing to the bravery and
prudence of colonel Washington, that a retreat
was effecte d ; and the remaining part of the ar-
my rescued from destruction. In this battle
scarcely any of the enemy were slain, but the
loss of the English amounted to seven hundred
men. The defeat was total,, and the carnage
uncommonlv great, of eighty five officers, sixty
four were slain or dangerously wounded. All
the artillery, ammunition, and baggage of the
arm}'- w^ere left to the enemy ; ajid among the
rest, the general's cabinet, containing all hisror-
ders, letters, and instructions. The French
court published the whole of these papers ; and
in their printed ntemorials and manifestoes, a-.
vowed to ail Jiurope that they had now com-.
pleat information of the designs of Great Bri-
tain and hef colonies..

The army that was sent to Nova Scotia, was.
put under the immediate command of colonel
iMonckton, a British officer. Colonel Law*-
rence, the lieutenant governor and commander
in that province, had found it impossible to
raise the recruits which he wanted, in Nova
Scotia. Kis attention was turned to Nevv' Eng-
land, as the only place in which he could ex-,
pect success. With that view, colonel Monck-
ton had made a voyage to Boston, in the latter
part of winter, and consulted Shirley upon the
business. Such was the reluctance of the New

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 353

England people to enlist under British officers,
that they found it impossible to engage men to
scr\^e in the British regiments, or under British
officers. It was proposed as the only expedient,
that bore the appearance of success, to procure
some of the New England officers, who had
served in the former wars, to engage in the
businesSo Colonel Winslow, of Marshfield, was
at tliat time reputed to be one of the bravest
and most experienced of the provincial officers.
He had been an ofiicer in the expedition to Car-
thagena, under general Went worth ; and had
much of the military genius and spirit, which
bad distinguished his family in the Indian wars
of the colonies. It was concluded that if he
would engage in the business, the men might
be raised with ease and expedition. Monck-
ton visited and consulted Winsiow upon the
business, Winslow vas pleased with the pros^
pect, but wished to have the command of the
troops himself. MoncktcJh was extremely anx-
ious to procure the men, but could not think of
giving the command to Winslow. After seve-
ral attempts to compromise the matter, they
cam.e to tiiis agreement, that Winslow should
have the command of all the men that should be
raised in the New England provinces, and be
equal at all times in command to Monckton,
but only in time of action ; on which occasion,
the command of the whole should be in Monck-
ton, who was to be considered as the senior of-
ficer.* This point being adjusted, Winslov/^
was commissioned by governor Shirley, and

* Winjlow'3 reiatacn to the author in 1764.

354 NATURAL AND CIVIL

heartily engaged in the business. A regiment
was soon raised and sent on to Nova Scotia.
Success attended the operations of the British
and provincial troops. On their arrival at the
river Massaquash, the provincials attacked and
dispersed four hundred and fifty of the enemy
who were posted there, and took their block
bouse and brest works. On June the twelfth,
they invested the fort Beau-Sejour, and in four
days obliged it to submit. The next day they
took the fort at bay Verte, with a large quantity
of stores and provisions ; and disarmed the
Acadians to the number of fifteen thousand.
Captain Rons, with three frigates, sailed to the
mouth of St. John's river ; the French aban-
doned their fort, burst their cannon, blew up
their magazine, and deserted the place. The
English had but twenty men killed, and about
as many wounded in the whole of this expedi-
tion. It served to preserve Nova Scotia, to
destroy the French power in that part of Ameri-
ca, and to raise the reputation and military char-
acter of the provincials.

After the death of Braddock, the command
of all the forces in North America devolved on
Sliirley, who had nov,' a commission giving him
the rank of major general. As soon as the
council at Alexandria was finished, Shirley re-
paired to Boston ; and made the most vigorous
exertions to compleat and hasten the troops,
which were designed to be under the command
of colonel Johnson, and that were to go with
colonel Winslow to Nova Scotia ; and also to
raise a number of battcau men, for the expedi-
tion to Niagara. Embarrassed with so many

HISTORY OF VERMONT. S5S

earcs, and such a variety of business, with his
utmost exertions he could not reach Albany-
till the second week in July. Oswego, by tlie
route which was usual at that time, was esti-
mated to be nearly three hundred miles west of
Albany. The passage was partly by land, but
chiefly by' water, upon tlic Mohawk and Onon-
daga rivers ; and at every season of the year
was both difficult and dangerous. A large
number of batteaux had been prepared for the
conveyance of the troops, stores and provisions.
riie fort at Oswego was of but little strength
and much out of repair. It was formerly gar-
risoned by twenty five men ; but on the com-
mencement of the late controversies, the garri-
son was augmented to fifty men. Early in the
spring, another company of fifty men had been
ordered to that station ; and in the latter end of
May, captain Broadstreet arrived with two hun-
dred more, and a number of workmen. Schuy-
ler\s regiment from New Jersey had embarked
for that place, the beginning of July ; and Shir-
ley's and Pepperell's regiments were preparing
to follow.

At this time the news arrived of Braddock's
defeat ; and was announced in terms more hor-
rid, awful and alarming than were just, 'llic
reports had an unhappy effect on the spirits and
conduct of the English troops. Suspecting and
dreading another Indian massacre, some desert-
ed ; and of the batteau men, not a few left the
service. The Indians of the six nations appear-
ed to be disinclined to hostilities ; and were un-
willing that the operations of the war should be
earried into the western country ; which they

556 NATURAL AND CIVIL

wished should remain in a state of tranquility'i
and be considered as a place of trade and com-
merce. Nor could any of them be persuaded to
join the British troops,' in their passage through
their country^ Embarrassed with such difficul-
ties, it was not till the twenty first of August
that Shirley arrived himself at Oswego. He
had scarcely one half of the batteiiu men which
had been engaged for the service ; and on that
account, the transportation of provisions had
been so retarded, that he was in no condition to
imove his army from Oswego.

A LARGE convoy with provisions being ex-
pected every hour, on September the eighteenth
the general called a council of vvar, and com-
iiiunicated to them the intelligence he had
procured relating to the French forts and forces
at Niagara, and Frontenac ; with an account of
his own force and situation. He informed
them that the number of effective men in his
three regiments, and independent companies, a-
mounted to thirteen hundred and seventy six ;
and that the irreo^ulars, consistins: of men from
Albany and the Indians, were only to the num-
ber of one hundred and twent}-. At the same
time he announced to the council that as soon
as the expected convoy should arrive, it was
his intention to embark for Nia":ara with six
hundred regular troops, the Albany irregulars,
and Indians, with the necessarv artiilerv ; lea-
ving behind seven hundred of his troops to pre-
t;erve the camp and stores at Oswego. Tlie
council were ot opinion that the expedition to
Niasrara was advi':;abie ; and that the works of
Oiwcgo ought to be ealarg;ed and strengthened

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 357

and that a greater naval force sliould be provi-
ded on lake Ontario. With his usual spirit of
activit}^ Shirley was deeply engaged in his pre-
parations, when the weather became uncommon-
ly tempestuous and rainy ; and continued thus
for thirteen days. His troops became sickly ;
and the Indians and others acquainted Vv^ith the
climate, pronounced the season too far advan-
ced, to admit of such an expedition upon lake
Ontario.

Doubtful as to success against Niagara, and
anxious for the safety of Oswego, on Septem-
ber the twenty seventh, the general called an^
other council of war. He represented to his of-
ficers what further intelligence he had received
of the state of the enemy, the quantity of his
own provisions, and that the numbers in his
camp now amounted to two thousand men* —
The council were unanimous in their opinion,
that it was not advisable to proceed 'on the ex-
pedition to Niagara that fall, but to defer the
matter to the next spring : and that in the mean
time, the works at Oswego should be repaired
and strengthened ; and that a new fort should
be ereeted, and compleated as soon as possible.
In conformity to the advice of his council the
general gave up the prospect of an expedition
to Niagara, till the next spring ; and spent the
remainder of the season, in repairing and erect-
ing forts at Oswego ; and in strengthening the
English interest with the Indian nations ; sieve-
ral of whom, disgusted with the English meth-
ods of Droceedinrr, wci'e become waverine- in
their attachment to the English, and very doubt- -
ful of their success. It has been customary t«
■VLOL. I U 2

353 NATURAL AND CIVIL

censure general SbJrIey for inactivity and dclaj
in prosecuting the expedition to Niagara. In the
state tlie country was then iu, it was impossible
to compleiit such an CKpedition in the course of
one campaign. The n\ilitary services in which
he had been engaged in tlie course of the year,
were prosecuted with all the activity and j)ru-
dence the n:iture of the service v/ouid admit.-- -
Few men could have dene more, and probably
not one man in America at that time, could
have efFecled so much. When the winter was
approaching, hQ made tlie necessary arrange-
ments for the defence . of the place ; gave the
command to colonel Mercer, wath a garrison of
seven hundred men, Mith orders to continue the
works ; and on October the tuenty fourth set
out on a journey to Albany and Nev/- York, to
concert measures for the next campaign.

The expedition against Crovv^n Point had
been put under the command of colonel Wil-
liam Johnson. This oiiicer was a native of Ire-
land and had lived several years in the Mohawk
country. There he had a fortified seat which
he called Mount Johnson, near one of the Mo- '
hawk castles, and about thirty six miles from
Albany. He was well acquainted with the In-
dian temper and character, had gained the affec-
tions, and was become the principal confident of
the six nations ; on account of his influence
over them, Braddock had entrusted him with
jifty thousand pounds sterling to engage their
friendship and assistance, in the approaching
campaign. Next to him, v/as general L)'man
of Connecticut ; of a military turn, and good a-
bilities. The provincial troops to the number

HISTORY OF VERMONT 359

•
of five or six thousatid men had assembled a
Albany and were in danger of becoming dis-
orderly by their inactivity and want of employ-
ment. Lyman moved on with his troops to the
carrying place, about sixty miles from Alban ,
and began a fort on the east side of Hudson's
river, which is now called fort Edward ; and
meant to remain at that place till Johnson should
arrive, with the artillery. It was not till the 10th
of August that Johnson could set out with his
artillerV from Albany ; and about the latte end
of that month, he proceeded iVom fort Edward,
fifteen miles more northerly ; and formed his
camp at the south end of lake George, which
before that time had been called lake St. Sacra-
ment, the name that Champlain had assigned
to it.

Soon after he had formed his encampment,
he received information by his Indian scouts
tliat a large part}^ of French and Indians had ta-
ken possession of Ticonderoga, an isthmus
which commands the passage between the lakes
George and Champlain ; but that no works had
been erected. Johnson was informed of the im.-
portance of that post ; and wrote to Shirley,
September the first, that he was impatient to
get up his batteaux & artillery ; and proposed to
move on with part of his army, dispossess the
Frer^ch and secure the post to himself. — The
French however had secured the possession,
and soon erected works sufficiently strong, to
defend it against surprise, or an easy conquest.

The court of France, aware that a war was
commencing in North America, had early in
the spring dispatched a body of troops to the

360 NATURAL AND CIVIL.

amount of four thousand men, for the defence
of their northern colonies. These troops sailed
from Brest early in the spring, with a large quan^
tit}'- of warlike stores, and a fleet of twenty five
sail of the line. Eight companies of these
troops had been captured, with t^vo French
men of war, off the banks of Newfoundland, by
the British jfleet under the command of admiral
Boscawen. One thousand were landed at Lou-
isburg, for the defence of tliat place. The re«
mainder arrived at Quebec, with M. de Vaudri-
eul, governor general of Canada, and barron.
Dieskau, commander in chief of the troops. The
• French court wished to reduce Oswego, and
thus secure the command of the lakes. With
this view Dieskau pushed up to Montreal ; from
whence, he detached seven hundred of his troops
lip the river, to fort Frontenac ; intending to
join them himself with the remainder, as soon
as circumstanoes would permit. Just before
lie had compleated his preparations, Montreal
was alarmed \y\ih aceounts that an English ar-
my was assembled near the lake St. Sacrament ;
which was represented as being nunierous, and
designed to effect the conquest of Crown Point,
and then penetrate into the country towards
Montreal, A council of war was called on the
occasion, and Dieskau was urged to omit the
expedition against Oswego, and proceed to
Crown Point, for the defence of the forts in that
part of the country against the attempts of the
English army. It vv'as not without much per-
suasion and reluctance that the baron consented
to alter the plan of his opei'ations, and proceed
to fort St. Frederick.

HISTORY OF A^ERMONT. 361

When he arrived at Crown Point, be found
that there was no prospect that the Enghsh ar-
my would soon make an attempt against that
place. Little acquainted with an American
war, he concluded to march on with his troops,
and attack the English in their camp ; and if
successful to make further attempts upon their
northern settlements, Albany or Schenectady,
as should be found practicable. In this way,
he was not without hopes to bring about the
reduction of Oswego, by cutting off the com-
munication between that fortress, and the set-
tlements in New York, from which they must
be supplied with provisions. With these hopes
and expectations, Dieskau embarked at Crowix
Point with eighteen hundred m.en, in batteaux,
and landed them at South Bay, now called
Westfield. By an English prisoner, the baron
received information that fort Edward was al-
most defenceless ; and that the English camp
at the lake, was v/ithout either entrenchments
or cannon. He fixed upon fort Edv/ard, as the
place for attack ; and marched on till he came
within three or four miles of the place. There
he made known his designs to his army. It
consisted of tv.'o hundred regulars, eight hun-
dred militia, and seven or eight hundred In-
dians. The general informed them, that the
enterprise would certainly succeed ; and that
by reducing fort Edv/ard, the English army at
the lake must necessarily abandon their camp^,
and disperse in confusion, in any direction in
which they could escape : Then the conse-
quence would probably be that Albany would
also fall, and Oswego be subdued by the want

S6Q NATURAL AND CIVIL

of supplies and provisions. The Canadians and
Indians were not persuaded that all these effects
were about to take place ; they were fearful of
the effects of cannon, and were averse to mak-
ing an assault upon fort Edward on that ac-
count : But discovered a readiness to attack the
camp at the lake, where they expected no other
arms would b€ employed against them but
musquets. Dieskau Vv^as obliged to comply
with the inclinations of his troops, and abandon-
ing his principal design, he changed his route,
and put his army in motion against the main
body of <he Enorlish at the lake.

It was not till the enemy had departed from
South Bay, that general Johnson had any intel-
ligence of their approach or designs ; and the
fi'st information he had, was, that a large army
of French and Indians had left South Bay, and
were actually on their march to fort Ed^vard,
On receivins: this information from some of his
Indian scouts, he dispatched separate messen-
gers to the commander at fort Edward, with
advice of the enemy's ap^'oach ; and with or'
.ders to withdraw all the troops within the v/orks
which had been thrown up at that place. One
of the messengers was intercepted and slain :
The other got back i.bout twelve that night, and
reported tint he saw the enemy about four miles
to the northward of the fort. The next morn-
ing Johnson called a council of war, who resolv-
ed that one thousand men should be detached,
with a number of Indians, " to catch the enemy
in their retreat, either as victors, or as defeated
in their designs."* This detachment was put

• Johnson's printed I.ettiV.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 565

under the command of colonel Williams, a brave
and judicious "officer ; and was attended by
more than two hundred Indians.

The camp of the colony troops was on the
banks of lake George, and was covered onbr tii
sides with a swamp of thick wood. Upon the
departure of the detachmicnt a kind of breast
work was thrown up, of some trees which were
cut down for tliat purpose ; and some of the
cannon, which were received a day or two be-
fore, were hauled up to strengthen the front.
Colonel William.s met the enemy within four
miles of the English camp : In about an hour
after his departure, a heavy fire was heard
which was judged to be within three or four
miles of the camp. Johnson judged that his
detachment was attacked, and was retreating to.
the camp. He immediately beat to arms, and
made the best preparation he could for the re-
ception of the enemy. The fire approaching
nearer, lieutenant colonel Cole v/as sent out
with a party of three hundred men to cover the
retreat. About ten o'clock some of the Pro-
vincials and Indians appeared, running back to
the camp ; and brought information, that the
detachment was attacked on all sides, and was
retreating : In a short time the whole party that
escaped, returned in large bodies to the camp.
Colonel Williams was slain in the action ; tlis
command had devolved on lieutenant col. Whit-
ing, a Connecticut officer, vvho had acquired
much reputation at the reduction of Louisburgh
in the former v»'ar ; and conducted with much
bravery and prudence on the present occasion.
Johnson manned his breast work, and made

36i NATURAL ANl!) CIVIL

the best preparation for the reception of the eit •
emy, that time and circumstances would permit.
At half after eleven, the enemy were seen to
approach. Their army was drawn up, and
inarched along the road, in a very regular man-
ner ; aiming directly at the center of the en-
campmeat. When they had approached within
one hundred and fifty yards of the breast work^
they made a halt for a short time ; their regu-
lar troops preparing for the grand or center at-
tack, and the Canadians and Indians filing off to
the flanks. The regular troops began the en-

; gagement with platoon firings, which on ac-
count of the distance, and breast work, had little

'.or no effect. The artillery immediately began
to play upon the enemy ; to avoid which, their
militia and Indians betook themselves to the
trees and swamps, and kept up an irregular fire

"upon the flanks. The engagement was now
become general with both armies, but it was
without much impetuosity on either side. The

"tegular troops in theFrench army preserved their
ground and order, for some time, with much
steadiness and resolution ; but found themselves
abandoned by the Canadians and Indians, and
suffered severelv bv tlic warm and constant fire
from the breast vvork. Unable to make an im-
pression on the center, they moved to the right,
and attacked the regiments of colonel Ruggles,
Williams, and Tilcomb. These regiments re-
eeived the attack with firmness, and kept up a
constant and vvell directed fire upop the enemy.
This attempt upon the right, continued about
an hour, without the appearance of success.
"pieskau now found that he could not make any

HtSTORV OF VERMONT, 36S

ihifiression on Johnson's army, with his small
body of regulars ; and that the fire, from every
part of his army, was becom.e weak, and de-
creasing. To save the remainder of his troop*
he attempted to retreat, but it was in much con-
fusion and disorder^ Upon this manoeuvre, a
party from the English camp jumped over the
breast work, fell upon his rear, and dispersed the
soldiers that were about him. Being wounded
in the leg, Dieskau could not travel himself ;
and was found by the party from the breast work,
resting on the stump of a tree, abandoned hj
his men, destitute of any assistance, and unable
to walk. A provincial soldier approaching him^
the baron was feeling for his watch to present
to him. The soldier believinsr he was in search
of a pocket pistol, discharged his musket and
gave him a dangerous wound in his hips.

Upon their retreat, the enemy halted about
four miles from the provincial camp, at the
place where the engagement began in the mor»
ning with colonel Williams. A party consist-
ing of two hundred men had been detached
from fort Edward; to assist the main body of
the army under Johnson. This party was com-
manded by captain M'Ginnes from New liamp-
shire, a brave and active officer. He fell upon
the enemy, with an impetuosity and spirit, that
soon put an end to their order and consultations*
They kept up their resistance for nearly two
hours, but in the event dispersed in every direc-
tion. The party under M'Ginnes lost but twelve
of their men. Their brave but unfortunate
commander arrived the same day at Johnson's
©amp, but died in a few days of the wounds
which he had received in the battle*

VOL. I W 2

see NATURAL AND CIVIL

In tliese engagements, the greatest loss of
the provincial troops, fell upon the detachment
sent out in the morning. Colonel Williams,
major Ashley, captains Ingersoll, Porter, Farrel,
Stoddard, Stevens, M'Ginnes, with about one
hundred and thirty men were slain. About
sixty were wounded, among whom was general
Johnson. The Indians estimated their loss at
forty men ; among these was Hendrick, the old
Mohawk sachem. In the French army, the loss
was said to amount to six or seven hundred.
Among the slain \\'ere several officers of dis-
tinction, with M. St. Pierre, a major general,
and commander of the Indians ; but few pris-
oners, not more than thirty were taken.

The conduct of M, Dieskau in this expedi-
tion ^ cannot be viewed as the result of much
discretion, or of good intelligence. The garri-
son at Fort Edward, at that time, did not a-
mount to more than fiv^ hundred men, under
the command of colonel Blanchard of Newhamp-
shire. The wocks were unfinished, and capa.
ble of but little defence. Against this place
Dieskau miglit probably have succeeded. But
to attempt to destroy the provincial army at the
lake, which was four thousand strong, with a
very inferior force, bore the appearance of rash-
ness rather tlian bravery. By the officers of the
most experience in the provincial army, it was
said, his most capital mistake was in making
a halt when he arrived at the provincial camp :
That such was the hurry consternation, and
want of intelligence in their camp, that if the
enemy had marched immediately to their breast
work, as their defeated and affrighted troops res

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 36T

turned, it was not improbable they might have
increased the confusion and consternation, till
it issued in a dispersion of their troops. By
making a halt, and firing in platoons at a dis-
tance in which it could have no effect, the pro-
vincials acquired experience, found the enemy'?
fire to be harmless, that their own was much bet-
ter directed, and did the most execution. It was
also a great misfortune to the French army, that
their general continued the attack, long after it
was found to be unsuccessful, and unavailing.

A VICTORY at tliat time was so unusual in
America, that not to have lost a battle passed
for an act of much merit and heroism ; and
Johnson w'as much commended that he had not
been defeated. His conduct however did not
pass without some severe remarks and censure.
It was said there was no generalship in the man-
agement of any part of the business ; that an
army of four thousand men, with artillery, and
a breast work, could not be in any danger from
such an enemy ; and ought to have destroyed
their whole army. But most of all was he
censured for not sending outa detachment in pur-
suit of a defeated, retreating army ; this was
warmly urged by general Lyman, but was oppo-
sed by general Johnson, and most of his field
officers. Instead of making any attempt to pur-
sue the enemy or to move forward to Ticonde-
roga, the day after the battle Johnson wrote to
the governors of the colonies for a reinforce-
xnent ; informed them that he expected another
attack, and that the enemy would come on v/ith
their artillery ; that he should order the troop:^
at fort Edward, to reinforce him ; and that as

368 NATURAL AND CIVIL

soon as the fresh troops should come on, he
should immediately set about building a fort.
How far the intelligence which Johnson had,
might justify this extreme caution, we cannot
now determine. The event was, that instead
of risking any thing against the enemy, he spent
the remainder of the campaign in building a
fort at the south end of lake George, which has
since been called fort William Henry.*

Thus terminated the American campaigns
in the year 1755. The plans had been chiefly
formed by governor Shirley ; an able and judi-
cious statesman, well acquainted with American
affairs, and deeply engaged in the interest of the
colonies. They appeared to have been so well
concerted, that the}' were approved and con-
firmed by general Braddock, and the council
which he assembled at Alexandria. One only
had succeeded : That at NoA'a Scotia, though
ostensibly under the command of Monckton,
had been principally conducted by colonel
Winslow ; and had fully effected the purpose
of subduing tlie French in that province, and
preserving it to the British dominions. The
expedition under Braddock was conducted with
extreme imprudence and rashness, and had ter-
minated in destruction and disG:race. The Nia-
gara expedition under Shirley, v\"as too exten-
sive in its plan and object, to be com])leated in
one campaign. At the northward, the baron
Dieskau had given Johnson an opportunity to.
obtain a victory, without leaving his camp, or>
exposing himself to any danger. Braddocl;

« Johnson'* JaUct »I Septewber 9, 175,?

HISTORY OF VERMONT 3G9

was slain, Shirley had lost ranch of his popu-
larity, Johnson was celebrated by some and
icensiired by others, 'while Winslow was every
where commended and applauded.

The campaigns being closed, general Shir-
ley convened a grand covmcil of war at New
York, to settle the plan of operations for the
next year. This council was opened on the
twelfth of December, and continued its session
that day and the next. The invitation to the
governors of the colonies was universal ; but
the council was attended only by the following
members ; the governors of Massachusetts,
Connecticut, New York, Pennsylvania and
Maryland ; colonels Dunbar and Schuyler^,
majors Craven and Rutherford, and the deputy
quarter master general. Shirley laid before the
council, the king's instructions to general Brad-
dock ; and proposed as a plan of operations for
the next year, that expeditions should be car^
ricd on against fort Du Quesne, Niagara, and
Crown Point ; and that a body of troops should
be sent by way of the rivers Kennebec and
Chaudiere, to keep up an alarm in the neigh-
borhood of Quebec, and the eastern parts of
Canada. Shirley's plan was adopted v^ith great
unanimity of sentiment, and the council dissol-
ved in perfect harmony, after a session of two
days. The governors returned to their respec-
tive provinces, but Shirley tarried at New York,
in hopes to prosecute an expedition aejr-inst Ti-
conderoga in the winter, which the season how-
ever did not permit.

1756. The plan of operations concerted at
New York, in a few days after, was transmiUed

$7Cf NATURAL AND CIVIL

to the British minister, to be laid before tiic
king, for his approbation* This business being
adjusted, on January the twenty first, Shirley set
out for Boston, to nteet the assembly of Massa-
chusetts, and propose to them the raising of
their quota of the troops. The assembly was
disgusted with the proceedings of the last cam-
paign, especially at general Johnson's neglecting
to pursue his advantages after the defeat of
Dieskau. It was with difficulty they Avere per-
suaded to concur in c^other expensive expedi-
tion ; nor would they engage in offensive oper-
ations at the lake, till it was understood that
Winslow was to have the command of the
troops designed against Crown Point. The
governor's influence however prevailed, and the
assembly concuiTed in all the military measures
which he proposed.

In April, news arrived from Great Britain,
that the events of the last year were viewed in
a very different light there, from what they were
in America : Tliat the afTair at lake George was
considered by the British ministry, as a very
important victor}^ ; and Johnson's conduct as
highly deserving and meritorious : That he was.
honoured with the dignity of a Baronet ; and
that five thousand pounds sterling had been vo-
ted to him by the house of commons as a fur-
ther reward for his services : That his engineer
was promoted to the rank of a major in the Bri-
tish service, and his secretary to the command
of a company. It was also said that general
Shirley's conduct had been entirely disapproved
by his majesty, that he was removed from the
f ommand of the troops ; and that the earl oi

HISTORY OF VERMONT. sfi

London was appointed general and commander
in chief of all the forces in North America :
And that the favorite object with the British
ministry, was the reduction of Crown Point,
At this time, general Shirley had not receiv-
ed the king's orders, with respect to the late
plan of operations ; but was much engaged in
carrying it into effect. On these venth of May,
he arrived at Albany, and immediately began
his preparations for the campaign^ On the ^
twenty fifth, he held a council of war, consisting
of lieutenant colonel Gage and Burton, majorss
Chapnlan and Sparks, Sir John St. Clair, and
Montresor, the chief engineer. With regard lo
the Niagara expedition, he informed the council
that upon lake Ontario, there was a naval force
of two vessels of ten carriage guns each ; two
row-gallies of ten swivels each ; and that he had
issued orders for building thre^ other vessels,
one of eighteen, one of sixteen, and one of
twelve carriage guns. Besides which, there
would be on that lake, two hundred and fifty
whale boats, each capable of carrying sixteen
men. With respect to the expedition against
Crown Point, the council were told, that th©
several colonies had voted to raise eight thou-
sand and eight hundred men, including those
which were in garrison at the forts Edward and
William Henry. The council were of opinion
that thirteen hundred men ought to be posted at
Oswego, and four hundred at the different posts
between that place and Schenectady. That
two British regiments, with the colony troops,
ivould be sufficient for the reduction of Crown
Point ; and that a fort ought immediately to be

372 NATURAL AND CIVIL

built at South Bay, the place where Dieskaii
had landed his troops.

Having formed the military plans and put
all the northern colonies in motion to execute
them, Shirley was deeply engaged in the busi-
ness till the arrival of major general Webb, ort
June the seventh. It was now certain that gen-
eral Shirley was superseded in the command.
On June the fifteenth, major general Abercrom-
bie landed at New York, and in ten days re-
paired to Albany, and took upon himself the
command of the army. Shirley immediately
delivered to him the returns of the army and
stores ; and gave him the necessafy information
respecting the plans of the campaign^ the state
of the American colonies and troops, and t\i<t
situation of their forts and public affliirs ; and
continued no longer at Albany than was neces-
sary to compleat this business. General Aber-
crombie Avas of a family much distinguished in
Scotland ; had risen in the army by a regulaf
course of service, and acted with reputation un-
der the duke of Cumberland, in subduing the
rebellion in the year fort}- six. He was now
advanced in age, and but little acquainted with
the affairs of the American colonies. When he
took the command of the troops, they consisted
of two regiments -which had served under Brad-
dock, two battalions raised in America, two
British regiments which, he brought over with
him, four independent companies which had
been for many years maintained in New York,
four companies raised by the province of North
Carolina, and the large body of provincial troops
which had been raised for the expedition again&t
Crown Point.

History of Vermont. 373

An important part of the service respecting
the western campaign, was the direction of the
batLeaux ; by these, the troops, provisions and
military stores were to be transported from
S ;henectady to Oswego. Shirley, fully appre-
hensive of the importance of this service from
the sufferings of the former year, had enhsicd
forty companies of fifty men each for this busi-
ness. Colonel Broadstreet, an active, judi-
cious officer, well acquainted with the nature of
the business, had btt^n appointed to tlie com-
mand. In returning from O -wcgo with three
hundred of his men, as he was stemming the
stream of the Onondago river, with his batteaux
formed into three divisions, on July the thirds
the Indian war-whoop resounded from the north
shore, and he was attacked in an instant by a
general discharge of musquetry. , With perfect
coolness, Broadstreet landed his men on the other
bank, took possession of an island from which
he could annoy the enemy, followed them to
every place where they had passed the river,
and fell upon them sword in hand wherever he
could find them in any numbers. Several ac- '
tions took place along the banks and islands of
the river ; the engagement continued for three
hours, and in the event, the enemy were every
where repulsed and dispersed. In this contest
the force of the enemy amounted to seven hun-
dred men. Thirty of the batteaux men were
killed, and as many wounded. The French
and Indians lost one hundred and twenty, and
about seventy of them were made prisoners.

On the eleventh of July, Broadstreet arrived
at Schenectady. The next day he repaired t©

Voi,. I. X 2

574 i^ATURAL AND CIVIL

Albany, to lay before general Abercrombie, tKc?
intelligence he had obtained, of the danger
which threatened Oswego. The prisoners he
had ta];cn in his late actions, informed him that
twelve hundred of the enemy were encamped
on lake Ontario, at but a little distance from the
Eni^lish forts ; that they were provided with
artillery, and ail otl^er implements necessary for
a siege ; and that they meant to commence their
operations, as soon as some expected reinforce-
ments should arrive. Upon this intelligence
orders were issued to general Webb, to hold
himself in readiness to march for the defence of
Oswego, widi tiie forty fourth British regiment.
"While the British generals were thus specula-
tii'ig about Oswego, Lord Loudon who had been
appointed to the chief command in North A-
merica, arrived at New York, July the twenty-
third, and reached his head quarters at Albany^-
tlie twenty ninth ; and immediately took upon
himself the command of the troops. Amidst
the parade and ceremonies attending the arrival
and reception of the British generals, the affairs
of the war v/ere not attended to ; and it was not
till the tvvelfth of August that Webb set out
with his regiment from Albany for the preser-
vation of Oswego. He had proceeded on his
journey but a few days, when he received news*
that Oswego was actually besie.^ed by a large
army of French and Indians. Alarmed for his-
own safety, he made a forced march to the
Oneida carrying place ; when he immediately
began to throw up works for his own defence,,
and to fall the trees in Wood Creek, to prevent
the enemy from approaching his own camp*

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 37^

While the British generals in Aitierica were
thus spending their time to - no purpose, M.
Montcalm, the commander of the troops in Ca-
nada, was deeply engaged in a scheme of the
highest importance to the French interest;
that of securing to themselves the extensive
dominion of the Great Lakes, which the}'-
well knew would command the interest and in-
fluence of all the Indian nations. As the first
step to efi'ect these measures, he sei forward lSi\
expedition against Oswego, while the British
generals were looking for him at Tyconderoga.*^
He assembled a body of troops, consisting of ^
thirteen hundred regulars, seventeen hundred
Canadians, and a considerable number of Indi-
ans. With this force he proceeded from fort
Frontenac, by the way of lake Ontario. The
first step taken by Montcalm, was to block up
Oswego by water, by two large armed -vessels ;
the next, was to post a strong body of Canadi-
ans and Indians on the road bet*.veen Albany
and the forts, to cut off all communications of
succour and intelligence. Having brought up
his artillery and stores, he had every thing in
readiness to open his trenches before fort Onta-
rio, by the twelfth of August, The forts were
in no condition to make a defence against artil-
lery or regulai' approaches. On the thirteenth,
colonel Mercer was killed by a cannon ball ;
and the next day the garrison proposed a capit-
ulation. The terms were, that they should sur-
render prisoners of war, be exempted from plun-
der, treated with humanity, and be conducted
to Montreal. Unfortunately for several of the
prisoners, and for the honor of Montcalm, the
terms of the capitulatioa were not fulfdled by

S76 NATURAL AND CIVIL

him. Several of the British officers, and soK
diers were insulted, robbed, and massacred by
the Indians. Most of the sick were barbarous-.
Ij scalped in the hospital ; and to compleat the
scene of falshood and barbarity, the French
general delivered up to the Indians above twen-
ty of the garrison, in the room of the same
number that they had lost during the siege. In'
all probability these unhappy victims were put
to death, according to the execrable Indian cus-.
torn of torturing and burning. Having suc^
ceeded in the enterprise with scarcely any loss,
Montcalm demolished the two forts at Oswego,
and returned with his army to fort Frontenac,
In this expedition he had taken fourteen hun-
dred prisoners, one hundred and twenty pieces
of artillery, fourteen mortars, with a large quan-
tity of ammunition, warlike stores, and provi-
sions ; two sloops, and two hundred batteaux.
While these scenes, disgraceful to the En-
glish, AT'ere taking place at Oswego, and the
French every where conducting their affairs
with wisdom and energy, the British generals
at Albany appeared to be either wholly unac-
quainted with the business, or disinclined to the
clangers and hardships of an American, French
arid Indian war. The force in the vicinity
of Albany, under the command of the earl of
Loudon, amounted to two thousand and six
liundred regular troops, and eight thousand pro-
vinriais, well clothed, fed and armed ; and pro-
vided with the necessary artillery and imple^
meats of war. General Winslow for several
iv.onths had been at lake George, with an army
of seven thousand provincial troops, well equip-s

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 377

ped, and re?dy to proceed from fort William
Henry. From the best accounts, the force of
the French at I'iconderoga and Crown Point,
did not exceed three thousand men ; and with
this force, they did not appear to be in any de-
g»"ee apprehensive of any danger from the Eng-.
lish. Nor had they any thing to fear from the
British generals, forces, or exertions ; for noth-
ing was attempted or effected. Loudon neither
made any attempts, nor gave any orders to his
troops to move forward, or molest the enemy
on lake Champlain. Loudon had his head quar-
ters at Albany, Winslow lay with the provincial
army at lake George, the season passed away,
and all that v/as attempted or performed was to
strengthen the forts Edward and William Hen-
ry, which Lyman and Johnson had built the
year before,

A party, in some of the colonies, had been
extremely active in censuring the measures of
general Shirley, and in effecting his removal
from the command. They had already discov-
ered that he was much better acquainted with
American affairs, more judicious in his plans,
and more active in executing them, than the
British generals who had succeeded him. If
Shirley had attempted too much, they had at-
tempted nothing ; and if Braddock had lost his
life and army by his rashness and confidence,
Loudon and his officers had neither ventured,
effected, or lost any thing : And it was already
apparent, either that they were altogether unac-
quainted with the nature of that kind of war,
which must be pursued on the American fron-
tiers J or else they were disinclined to venture

m NATURAL AND CIVIL,

atnidst the fatigues, dangers, and surprises, t®
which it was unavoidably exposed. But what-
ever was the cause, it was every where known
that the whole body of British and provincial
troops, through the whole of this campaign, had
been employed to no manner of purpose. Dis-
appointment and disgrace had attended every
British measure ; it was the French, with M,
Montcalm, their general, that had acted witk
vigor and success.

History of Vermont. 37I

CHAPTER Xlh

.War. Progress and events of the war in th^
-.years 1757 and 1758. Loudon^ s preparations
for the campaign. Montcalm^ s measures with
the Indians. Designs upon the English. Put-
nam's account of Webb's proceedings. Con-
quest of Fort William Henry. Savage mas-
sacre of the prisoners. Refections on Mont-
.mini's conduct. Result of the campaign ijt
,1757. Change of the British councils and
'ministry. Conquest of Louisbourg. Aber-
icrombie's attempt and defeat at TiconderQga*
■Capture of Fort Frontenac by Broadstreet...i
Of Fort Du Quesne by Forbes. Amherst as-
xiumes the command.

1757 THE Earl of Loudon had been'
an officer of much reputation in Scotland. In
tlie rebeUion in that country, in the year on$
thousand seven hundred and forty five, he com-
manded a regiment of Highlanders at Inverness j
wa^ very useful in . directing the councils and
conduct of the clans, who had taken arms in
behalf of the king ; vigilant and successful ijt
restraining and intimidating the disaffected
chiefs, who had not openly joined in the rebeL
lion ; loyal, active, and persevering, he had ren,
dered vciy useful services to his majesty, in the
high lands of North Britain. From such ser-
vices and experience, it was supposed that he
^was-well qualified to have the direction of the
,^*ar in North America.

iUviiVG assumed the command of all tlifc

380 NATURAL AND CIVIL

forces in North America, he was employed dur^
ing the winter in effecting his purposes with the
American governments, to raise a large body
of troops for the ensuing campaign. His LorcU
ship had not the full confidence of the Ameri-
can assemblies ; but such was their convictioa
of the necessity of more vigorous measures in
carrying on the war, that they every where
raised the number of troops v4iich were reqair-.
€d of them, and made all the preparations which
were expected : But as the British general had
taken the direction of all the proposed expedi-
tions under his own management, neither the
American governors or assemblies, were em-
ployed in forming plans, or concerting meas-
ures for their own defence, or to annoy the ene-
my. The time was now come, when it was
thought by the British ministry that it was not
best for their colonies to learn their own strength*
or to depend upon their own councils ; but to
look to British officers and troops for the one,
and to the British ministry for the other.

From the first commencement of hostilities,
the reduction of Crown Point had been the fi\-
vorite object with the colonies, and with the
crown, it was determined in the British coun-
cils of this year, to vary and extend their opera-
tions ; not to carry their expeditions against
Crown Pointy but to make a vigorous attempt
against Louisbourg. In pursuance of this plan^
Admiral Holbourn arrived at Halifax, on July
the ninth, with fifteen ships of the line, and a
large number of transports. Lord Loudon had
collected a body of six thousand troops, and
embarked from New York, to take the command

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 381

oT the army designed for Louisbourg. When
he arrived with his troops at Halifax, he found
himself at the head of twelye thousand men ;
well officered, disciplined, and provided with
every thing nf cessary for the expedition. While
the army lay at Halifax, preparing to embark,
intelligence was received that M. de la Mothe
had sailed from Brest, in the month of May,
and was arrived safe at Lonisbourg, with a large
fleet of ships of war, and transports. The in-
telligence was soon confirmed, with more par-
ticular information ; that there were seventeen
ships of the line and three frigates moored in
the harbor ; a land army of six thousand regu-
lar troops, three thousand natives, and thirteen
hundred Indians ; that the place was well sup-
plied with ammunition, provisions, and every
kind of military stores ; and that the enemy
were expecting and desirous of a visit from the
English fleet and army. This intelligence put
an end to Loudon's deliberations. No attempt
was made to proceed in the expedition, it was
foreseen that the consequence of a defeat would
have been greatly injurious to the British affairs
in America. And neither their admirals or
generals had as yet acquired that determined
resolution and perseverance, which were necesr
sary to give success to the American contest.

But whatever was the case with the British
commanders, the French generals perfectlj^ well
understood their business. Montcalm, who
had the command of the troops in Canada, was
an able and experienced officer. Ke had served
with much reputation in the French armies in
Italy and Bdhem-ia, and ^ad met with mugk

TOL. I, Y 2-

n

82 NATURAL AND CIVIL

success in America. The conquest of Osv/ega
had raised his fiime among the Indians, and
sciven him the command of almost all their tribes
and commerce. He pursued the advantages he
had obtained with much discretion and address.
The EuQ-lish had destroyed their forts at the
great carrying place, and in other parts of the
Indian country, to prevent their falling into the
hands ofihe French ; and the whole country of
the six nations vas abandoned to the enemy.
The Frencli commanders availed themselves of
all the errors and defeats of the English. They
carried (ire and sword into the Indian country ;
and by> rewards, promises, and threatenings,
were incessantly endeavoring to draw over the
six nations to their interest ; and they had the
most flattering prospects of success. These na-
tions alone, of all the Indian tribes, had been
sincere and faithful in their attachment to the
English. The forts, and communications v/ith
their tribes were cut off, their country was a-
bandoned to the incursions and ravages of their
enemies, and their English allies had met with
little else than disappointment and defeat in all
their expeditions against the French. In such
circumstances it required all the ability and ad-
dress of sir William Johnson, to prevent their
deserting the English cause and interest.

Br the departure of lord Loudon from Ncav
York, the command of the British forces had
devolved on major general Webb. Montcalm
saw that a favorable opportunity vvas presented
to attack the English on lake George. He had
made an attempt on the twentieth of March, to
carry fort WiUlani, Henry by surprise ; but hi*

'HISTORY OF VERMONT. 333

troops had been defeated by the vigilance and
bravery of the garrison. Several of the enemy
were slain, but they did not return till they had
burned two sloops, & one on the stocks ; ahnost
all the batteaux, three store houses, all the huts
of the rangers, and every thing that was not un-
der the command of the fort. At the opening
of the spring, a detachment of near four hun-
dred men v/ent down the lake under the com-
mand of colonel John Parker, in batteaux and
whale boats, to attempt the enemy's advaacC'd
guard at Ticoiideroga. Parker vv-as deceived in
his intelligence, decoyed into the midst of a
large b^it concealed party of the enemy, and at-
tacked with such impetuosity and success, that
but two Oiiicers and seventy privates escaped.
Encouraged by this success, and the departure
of lord Loudon to Halifax, and wishing to re-
trieve the misfortune of the defeat at fort Wil-
liam Henry, Montcalm drew his forces top-ether
and made preparation to lay siege to that place.
For this purpose he assembled at Crown Point
and Ticonderoga, a large body of regular troops, .
Canadians, and Indians, amounting to ,n£ar ten
thousand men.

One of the great diHiculties attending the
American campaigns, was the article of intelli-
gence ; to procure information of the strength
and movements of the enemy. l'he.,inpst that
was obtained, was generalh' by means of scout-
£ig and ranging parlies. Some of the officers
of the New Hampshire troops, were much dis.
tinguished for their abilities and exploits in ser-
vices of this kind. To three of them, Robert
Rogers, John Stark^ and ^^illiara Stark, ranging..

6?4 NATimAL AND CIVIL

companies were assigned. At the desire of Ior(J
Loudon, they were continued in the service dur-
ing the winter as well as summer. They were
so eminently useful in ranging the woods, pro-
curing intelligence, and skirmishing with the
advanced parties of the enemy, that they were
put in the pay of the crown & after the war were
allowed Iialf pay on the British establishment.!
Among the officers, of the ranging compa-
nies, major Putnam, whose name became so
much celebrated in the American war, was at
that time much distinguished for his activity
and bravery. General Webb had formed a
high idea of his military character and enter-
prise, and had assigned to him the command of
a party of two huiKhT-d men, ^\'ho had been se-
lected to escort Webb from fort Edward to
William Kenry. Webb wished to examine the
state of the fortifications at lake George, and to
procure intelligence of the strength of the ene-
my at Ticonderoga and Crown Point. Several
attempts had been made in the night by major
Rogers, who was then at the head of the rang-,
ing companies, biit they had not succeeded.
Putnam proposed to proceed in the day time,
take with him but five men, land at the North-
west bay, send back his boats, and tarry himself
tin he could discover the state of the enemy's
troops and fortifications at Ticonderoga. Webb
tho'^ght this would be too dangerous an experi-
Uijnt, but permitted him to proceed with eigh-
tsfcen men in three whale boats. Putnam set
out with his volunteers, but before he arrived
at the Northwest bay, he discovered a body of

■fBclfcBap'sMht.New Hamps-Qirc, vol 2. p. y^;-.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 38B.

jnen on one of the islands in the lake. Leaving
two of his boats to fish at a distance, that they
might not occasion any alarm, he returned him-,
self with the information. The general saw
him rowing back with great velocity in a single
boat, and concluded that the other two had been
captured ; he sent orders to Putnam to leave
his men in the boat, and come ashore alone.
Putnam informed him of the discovery he had,
made, and urged the necessity of returning im-
spxcdiately to make further discoveries, and
hnui!: off the boats, Webb reluctantlv consent-
cd, and Putnam hastened to secure liis boats j
having joined his men, he pressed further on
till he discovered a large army in motion, and
was seen by the enemy. Several of their ca-
noes pursued him, and though nearly surround-
ed at times, by the most vigorous exertions he
escaped. On his return, he gave to general
Webb, a minute account of all that he had seen
and added that the army of the enemy must
undoubtedly be designed against fort William
Plenry. General Webb enjoined the most
absolute silence upon the subject, and directed
him to put his men under an oath of secrecy,
and prepare immediately to return to the head
quarters of the army at fort Ed\vard. Wish-
ing to be engaged in surprising the enemy on
the lake, Putnam made this remark, " He ho.
ped his excellency did not intend to neglect so
fair an opportunity of giving battle, should the
enemy presume to land." " What do you
think we should do here," replied the general.
The next di\y, Webb returned to fort Edward,
escorted by Putnam; and the day after, colonel

386 NATURAL AND CIVIL

Monro was ordered with his regiment to rein-
force the garrison at lake George. Aware of
the sieg-e that was about to comiTience, Putnam
advised colonel Monrp not to carry his costly
baggage & camp equipage ; but JMonrOjUot ap-.
prised of the in.telligence which had been given
to Webb, disregardtd the advice and marched
on without aiiv apDrehension of immediate dan-
ger. t

The day after Monro had arrived and taken
the command, the lake appeared to be covered
with boats ; and a large army of French and
Indians v/ere swifdy ajiproachins: towards tlie
fort. Montcalm effected a landing with but
little opposition, and iixunediately began the-
siege. A>sr.iall party of the garrison had a
skirmish with some of the advanced parties of
the enemy, and some that had been taken pris-
oners, had been murdered and scalped bv the
Indians with circumstances of the m.ost inhu-
man barbarity. Montcalm wished to avail
himself of this event, and endeavoured to pur-
suade the garrison to an immediate surrender.
On the day in which he invested the place, he
sent a letter to colonel Monro, stating that he
thought himself bo^jiid in humanity to urge
him to surrender before any of the Indians were
slain, & their savage temper should be further in-
flamed by a resistance which could "not be avaii-
incr. " A detachment of vour f^aiTison, sa.Vi>
* he, has lately experienced their cruelty ; I
' have it yet in my power to restrain them, and
^ oblige them to observe a capitulation^ as non'^t

-f Humphrey'* lii<s of Putnam, p, 5.7..

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 587

* of them Iiitherto are killed. Your persisting

* in the defence of your fort, can only retard its

* fate a few days, and must of necessity expose

* an unfortunate garrison, who can possi-

* bly receive no relief, considering the precau-

* tions I have taken to prevent it. I demand a

* decisive answer, for which purpose I have
' sent the Sieur Funtbrune, one of my aides ^
' du camp. You may credit what he will in-'

* form you of, from Montcalm."

Colonel Monro v/as an officer of distin*
guished honor and fortitude. He retiime4^ a
very proper and spirited answer, announcing to
the French general, that as the fort had been en-
trusted to him, his honor and his duty would
lead him to defend it to the last extremity. A-
ware of his danger, he sent one express after an-
other to Webbj inibrming him of his own situ-
ation, and the strength of the enemy, with the
most pressing solicitations for immediate suc-
cour. The garrison consisted of about two
thousand live hundred men; the whole of which,
animated by the hope and expectation of recei-
ving relief from fort Edv/ard, made a gallant
defence.

General Webb had an army at fort Ed-
ward of four thousand men, which had been
considerably augmented by the troops under
the command of Sir William Johnson, and by
the militia. It is generally supposed that he
had private intelligence of, Montcalm's designs
and motions ; and it was in his power to ha\c
called in a large number of provincial troops
from New York and New England ; and these
•u'ere in flict the best soldiers iu a war with the

58S NATURAL AND CIVIL

Canadians aiKl Iixlians. But he neither seem™
ed to have any apprehension of danger, or to
make any exertions lo prevent or avoid it ; but
remained rather indifferent or passive amidst all
the alarming scenes that were taking place.
Such however were the representations from
Monro, and the solicitations in his own camp,
tliat on the eighth or ninth day of the siege, gen-
eral Johnson was suffered to march with all the
provincial regiments, the militia, and Putnam's
rangers. They had not proceeded three miles
before the order was countermanded, and the
troops directed to return. Webb then wrote
to Monro that he could not afford him any re-
lief, and advised him to surrender on the best
terms that he could obtain.

Montcalm was provided with a good train
of artillery, and had been accelerating his ap-
proaches to the fort with all the expedition in
his power. When Johnson began his march,
some of the Indians who were employed as run-
ners, saw the movement and gave the inform -
tion to Montcalm, that a large force was ap-
proaching towards the lake. Being questioned
respecting the numbers, they answered in their
figurative manner, " If you can count the leaves
of the trees, you can count them, &c." In
consequence of this intelligence, the operations
of the siege were suspended ; and Montcalm
was preparing to o;ive battle, or retreat, as cir-
eumstances might dictate. Another Indian run-
ner put an end to the apprehensions of the
French, by the Welcome tidings that the English
armv had returned to fort Edward.* From the

«

Putnara's 1/ife, p. 38.

History of Vermont. 380

i-eturn of this detachment, Montcalm found that
he had nothing to fear from the British army at
fort Edward, and prosecuted the siege with fresh
vigor, and the most confirmed hopes. Monroe
and his garrison defended themselves with
much spirit and resolution till their works were
much injured, their ammunition nearly expend-
ed, and the enemy had made near approaches to
the fort. Still expecting to be relieved by gen«-
eral Webb, Monroe had refused all terms of
capitulation from the third to the ninth of Au-
gust. Montcalm had intercepted the letter
which Webb had wrote to Monroe advising hint
to surrender.* This letter was sent into the
fort to Monroe, with further proposals for a ca-
pitulation. Every circumstance now served to
convinccMonroe that it would be impossible for
him to preserve the place, or to hold out much

• Fort-Edward, August 4, l* at Ndoh.
Sir, " J am directed by General V\'"ebb t® acknowledge the rft"
'ceipt of three of your letters ; bearing date nine o'clock yefterday morn-
fng, and one about six in the evening, by two rangers, which arethconiy
men that have got in here, except two yesterday morning with youf"
first.acquainting him that the enemy were in sight. He has ordered m«
to acquaint you, he does not think it prudent, (as yau know his strength
it this place) to attempt a junction, or to assist you, till reinforced by the
militia of the colonics, for the immediate march of which repeatea ex*
presses have been sent. One of our scouts brought in a Canadian prison-
er last ni^ht, from the investing party, which is very large, and have pos-
sessed all the grounds five miles on this side of Fort William Henry. The
iiumber of the enemy is very considerable, thr prisoners say eleven thou-
sand, and have a large train of artillery, with mortars, and were to opera
their batteries this day. The s^cncral thought proper to «end you this in'
telligenee, that in case he s'-oiiid be so unfortunate, from the delays of the
militia, not to have it in his power to give you timely assistance, you might
be able to make the best terms i ft in your pov.-er. Tlie bearer is a «efr
Jeant of the Connecticut forces, and if he is happy enough to get in wfB
bring advices from you. Wekeep continual scouts going, to endeavor t»
get in, or bring intellistem'e from you. I am, sir, with the heartiest ana-
most anxiou« wiihas for your wdfare, your most obedient humble ser«
vant.

G. BARTMAM, AI^-(3.«-C«my-
To Col. Monroe, or ofTicrr commanding
at Fort William Henry.

roL. I. Z 2

390 NATURAL AND CIViL

longer against tlie French army ; and that he
must surrender on the best terms that he could
obtain.

Articles of capitulation were agreed upon
and signed by Montcalm and Monroe. It was
stipulated that the garrison of fort William Hen-
ry, and the troops in the retrenched camp should
march out with their arms, the baggage of the
officers and soldiers, and all the usual necessa-
ries of war ; and be escorted to fort Edward,
by a detachment of French troops, and interpre-
ters attached to the savages. That the gate of
the fort should be delivered to the troops of the
most christian king,, immediately after signing
the capitulation ; and the retrenched camp, on
the departure of the British troops : That ail
the warlike stores, and every thing except the
effects of the ofEcers and , soldiers should be de-
livered to the French troops. The garrison was
not to serve against France or her allies during
the term of eighteen months. Such of the
F-i'ench as had been taken prisoners since the
commencement of the war, were to be delivered
nt Carillon, ( Ticonderoga) in the space ©f three
months ; in return for Avhich, an equal number
•f the garrison of fort William Henry should
be capacitated to serve in the English armies.
The sick and wounded were to remain under
the protection of. Montcalm, and were to be
treated with humanity and tenderness, and re-
turned as soon as they were recovered. An of-
ficer was to remain as an hostage till the safe
return of the escort th.at was to be sent to guard
the British troops to fort Edward : And as a
testimony of his esteem and respect for colonel

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 391

Monroe and his garrison, on account of their
gallant defence, Montcalm was to return ons
cannon, a six pounder.

The articles of capitulation were signed Au-
gust the ninth, and no further difficulties were
expected. But no sooner had the British troops
marched out of their camp than a scene of per-
fidy and barbarity took place, that had scarcely
ever before been acted among the most brutal
of barbarians and robbers. In avowed contempt
and violation of the articles of capitulation, the
Indians attached to the French army fell upon
the defenceless garrison, plundered, Vv^ounded,
and murdered whatever stood in their way. The
following is the account of Captain Jonathan
Carver, of the Connecticut troops, and one of
the garrison at that time. " The morning after
the capitulation was signed, as soon as day
broke, the whole garrison, now consisting of
about two thousand men, besides women and
children, were drawn up within the lines, and
on the point of marching off, when great num-
bers of the Indians gathered about, and began,
to plunder. We were at first in hopes that
this was their only view, and suft'ered them t
proceed without opposition. Indeed it w
not in our power to make any, had we b'
so inclined ; for thoi.igh we were permitte
carry off our arms, yet we were not allo^
single round of ammuniti-on. In these
however we were disappointed ; for p;
some of them began to attack the .?
wounded, when s.uch as were not abh< •
into the ranks, notwithstanding they
ored to avert the fury of their enemies
shrieks or groans, were soon dispafr*'

59^ NATURAL AND CIVIL

* Heri we were fully in expectation that* the
disturbance would have concluded ; and o\m
little army began to move ; but in a short
time we saw the front division driven back ;
and discovered that we were enthely encircled
by the savages. We expected every moment
that the guard, which the French by the arti-
cles of capitulation, had agreed to allow us,
would have 'arrived, and put aa end to our ap-
prehensions ; but none appeared. The In-
dians now began to strip ever}- one v/ithout
exception, of their arms and clothes, and thos^
who made the least resistance felt the weight
of their tomahawks.

* I happened to be in the rear division, but
it was not long before I shared the flite of my
companions. Three or four of tli.c savages.
laid hold of me, and whilst some held their
weapons over my head, the others soon disro-
bed me of my coat, waistcoat, bjit and buckles,
omitting not to take from me what money I

■ had in my pocket. As this was transacted

close by the passage that led from the lines on,

o the plain, near which a French centinel was

■>sted, I ran to him and claimed his protec-

•1 ; but he only called me an English dog,

thrust me with violence back again into

nidst of the Indians.

ow endeavored to join a body of our
that were crowded together at some
; but innumerable were the blows.
e made at me with n'eapons as I pas-
'uckily however the savages were so
ther, that they could not strike at
endangering each other^ Notwith-

V •

HISTORY OF VJ/RMONT. S9»

standinc which, one of them found meaiis to
make a thrust at me with a spear^ which graz<rd
my side, and from another I received a wound^
with the same kind of weapon, in my ancic*
At length I gained the spot where my ccr.i-
trymen stood, and forced myself into theml.!.-t
of them. But before I got thus far out of \hQ
hands of the Indians, the collar and wristbanC?5
of my shirt were ail that remained of it, i: -d
my flesh was scratched and torn in many p"' .'
ces by their savage gripes.

' By tliis time the \^'ar whoop was given, "m:}
tlie Indians began to murder those that were-
nearest to them without distinction. It is • '
in the povv-er of words to give any toler
idea of the horrid scene that now ensii
men, women, and children were dispatche
the most wanton and cruel manner, and
mediately scalped. Many of these sav
drank the blood of their victiins, as it fio
warm from the fatal wound.

* We now perceived, though too late to t

* us, that we were to expect no relief from

* French ; and that, contrary to. the agree r:

* they had so lately signed, to allow us a s;;

' cient force to protect us from these insi.. ,

* they tacitly permitted them ; fori couid pi.-- -

* ly perceive the French officers walking abc .:,

* at some distance, discoursing with appaic...

* unconcern. * * *^ * ^

* As tlie circle in which I stood enclosed, 1}

* this time was much thinned, and death seenic.t
' to be approaching with hasty strides, it wl. i

* proposed by some of the most resolute to make
'^ one vigorous effort, and endeavor to forc« owis-

394 NATURAL AND CIVIL

* way throuf^h the savages, the only probahl®

■ method of preserving our lives that now re-

■ niained. This, however desperate, was re-

■ solved on, and about twenty of us sprung at

* once into the midst of them.

* In a moment we were all separated, and
what Was the fate of my companions I could
not learn till some months after, when I found
that only six or seven of them effected their
desigQ. Intent only on my own hazardous
situation, I endeavored to make my way thro*
my savage enemies in the best manner possi-
ble. And I have often been astonished since,
when I have recollected with what composure
I took, as I did, every necessary step for my
preservation. Some I overturned^ being at that
time young and athletic, and others I passed
by, de^iterously avoiding their weapons ; tilt
at last two very stout chiefs, of the most sav-
age tribes, as I could distinguish by their
dress, whose strength I could not resist, laid
hold of me by each arm, and began to force
me through the crou'd.

' I now resigned myself to my fate, not
doubting but that they intended to dispatch me,
and then satiate their vengeance witli my
blood, as I found they were hurrying me to-
wards a retired swamp that lay at some dis-
tance. But before we had got many yards, an
English genljerflan of some distinction, as I
could discover by his breeches, the only cov-
ering he had on, which were of iine scarlet
"^ velvet, 'rushed close by us. One of the In-

* dians instantly relinquished his hold, and
'- springing on this new object, endeavored t«

tllSTORY OF VERMONT. $9S

^ seize him as his prey ; but the gentleman be-
* ing strong, threw him. on the ground, and
would jprobably have got away, had not he
who held my other arm, quitted me to assist
his brother. I seized the opportunity, and
hastened away to join another party of English
troops that were yet unbroken, and stood in a
body at sqme distance. But before I had ta-
ken many steps, I hastily cast my eye towards
the gentleman, and saw the Indian's tomahawk
gash into his back and heard him utter his last
groan ; this added both to my speed and des-
peration. V
' I had left this shockins; scene but a few
yards, when a fine boy about tvvelve years of
age, that had hitherto escaped, came up to mc
and begged that I would let him lay hold of
me, so that he might stand some chance of
getting oiit of the hands of the savages. I told
him that I would give him every assistance in
my power, and to this purpose bid him lay
hold ; but in a few moments he was torn from
my side, and by his shrieks I judge was soon
demolished. 1 could not help forgetting my
own cares for a minute, to lament the fate of
so young a s^.^ferer ; but it was utterly im^
possilDle for me to take any methods to pre-
vent it. y ^^

* I now got once more into the midst of
friends, but we were unable to afford each oth^
er any succour. As this v/as the division that
had advanced the farthest from the fort, I tho*
there might be a possibility (though but a bare
one) of my forcing my way through the outer
ranks of the Indians, and getting to a neigh-

S96 NATURAL AND CIVIL

b:;ring wood, which I perceived at some dis-
tance. I was still encouraged to hope by the
ahnost miraculous preservation I had alread}'
experienced. Nor were my hopes in vain, or
•the eiToits I made ineffectual. Suffice it to
Sov, that I reached the v/cod ; but by the time
I Ivdd penetrated a little way into it, my breath
W-: 3 SI) exhausted that I threw myself into a
br<-kc, and lay for some minotes apparently at
the last gasp. At length I recovered the pow-
er of respiration ; but my apprehensions re-
tufiied with all their former force, when I saw
sc'." :ral saviiges pass by, probably in pursuit
of tiie, at no very great distance. In this sit-
ualinn I knev/ not whether it was better to
proceed, or endeavor to conceal myself where
I l?^\ till night came on ; fearing, howevCFj
that they would return the same way, I thought
it most prudent to get further from the dread-
ful Lxcne of my distresses. Accordingly,
stri!:ing into another part of the wood, I has-
ten; a on as fast as the briars and the loss of
one of my shoes would permit me ; and after
a slow pi-ogress of some hours, gained a hill
that overlooked the plain which I had just left,
from whence I could discern that the bloodv
storm still raged with unabated fury.
' Birr not to tire my readers. I shall only
add, that after passing three days without sub-
sistence, and enduring the severity of the cold
devis lor three nights, I at length reached fort
Edward ; where with proper care my body
socr recovered its wonted strength, and my
mind, as far as the recollection of the late mel-

* ancholy events would permit, its usual com-

* posurc.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 397

* It was computed that fifteen hundred per-

* sons were killed or made prisoners by these

* savages during this fatal day. Many of the

* latter were carried off bv them and never re-
' turned. A few, through favorable accidents,

* found their way back to their native country,

* after having experienced a long and severe
' captivity.

' The brave colonel Monroe had hastened a-

* way, soon after the confusion began, to the

* French camp to endeavor to procure the guard

* agreed on by the stipulation ; but his application
*• proving ineffectual, he remained there till gen-

* eral Webb sent a party of troops to demand

* and protect him back to fort Edward."*

The day after this awful tragedy had been
acted, major Putnam was dispatched with his
rangers to watch the motions of the enemy.
He came to the shore of lake George when the
rear of the enemy was scarcely beyond the
reach of musquet shot. The prospect Was aw-
ful and horrid in the highest degree^ The fort
was demolished, the barracks, outhouses and
buildings, were one heap of ruins ; the cannon,
stores, boats and vessels, were carried away.
The fires were still burning, the smoke and
stench offi^nsive and suffocating. Innumerable
fragments of human sculls and bones, and car-
Cases half consumed, were still frying and broil-
ins: hi the decavina: fires. Dead bodies man-
gled with scalping knives and tomahawks, ia
Jill the wantonness of Indian fierceness and bar-
barity, were every where to be seen. More

f OL. I. A 3

398 NATURAL AND CIVIL

than" one hundred women inhumanly stabbed
and butchered, lay naked on the ground with
their bowels torn oVit, and still weltering in their
gore. In some, their throats were cut ; in oth-
ers, their brains were oozing out, where the
hatchet had cleaved their heads ; and in others,
the hair and the scalp had been torn off, and
nothing was to be seen but the bloody skull.
Devastation, barbarity, and horror, every where
appeared ; and presented a spectacle too dia-
bolical and awful to be endured or described.*
It is difficult to believe that the Frencb offi-
cers had contemplated any such proceedings.
As soon as the capitulation was signed, St.
Luke le Corne, who had much influence among
the Indians, sent for colonel Frye, who com-
manded a part of the Massachusetts troops. Frye
had been in Nova Scotia under Winslow, in
1755, and had protected several of the French
inhabitants from the fury of the Indians. Le
Corne told him that he had observed, and that
he well remembered the humanit)% that he had
shown to his countrymen in Nova Scotia ; that
he should embrace the ]:)rescnt opportunity to
express his gratitude, and reward his humanity ;
and that neither he, nor any of the Massachu-
setts troops, should receive any insult or injury
from any of the Indian tribes. Frye believed
in Le Corne's declarations ; but during the
v/hole outrage and massacre, Le Corne neither
appeared himself, nor sent any party to afford
protection, or to moderate the Indian vea-
geance.f

* Putnam's Life, p. 39.

t C«l. Joseph Frye's reUtion lo the Aulhej',

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 59«

.r

How far it was in Montcalm's power tobavc
prevented this scene of carnage and barbarity,
it may not be easy for us to determine. The
marquis himself seems to have been a man of
humanity and politeness ; and it is scarcely pos-
sible but that a brave and generous soldier must
have beheld such scenes of outrage, with dis-
gust and abhorrence. Nor was it possible but
that he must have been aware of the dangerous
consequences of violating the public faith, or
how much it would effect his own honor and
reputation, to have his prisoners surrendered
into his power under a solemn treaty of protec-
tion, murdered in his presence, and by a part of
his own army. The most that candor can say
upon this subject, will be, that the European
generals were not able to restrain the fierceness
and barbarity of their Indian allies ; that tho
savages served with them, not un4er the prom-
ise or expectation of wages, but solely with a
view of revenge and plunder ; that they claim-f
ed these as their right, practice, and custom,
from time immemorial ; and did not admit that
any of the European commanders had any right
to restrain, or to interpose in their customs and
usages of treating their prisoners. But when
all has been said that candor can suggest, or that
the customs and habits of the savages can justi-
fy or excuse, still it will occur, that the garrir
son had a promise of protection from Montr
calm ; that they had surrendered under the faith
of this protection ; that all the laws of hur
manity and war required the capitulation, to have
been held sacred and inviolate ; that it was in
his power to have protected tlie garrison by \

sm NATURAL AND CIVIL

giidtd of French troops ; but that rather thaa
disgust the Indians, he broke every part of the
capitulation, viciuied his o-^^vii honor, and de-
stroyed the faith of any future promises, by suf-
fering a seduced and defenceless garrison to be
plundered and butchered, in the presence and
Tiew of his whole army.

Expecting to be attacked himself, general
Webb had sent on expresses to the provinces
for reinforcements. They were every where
raised and sent on with great expedition ; but
as Montcalm had returned to Ticonderoga, the
reinforcements were kept in service but a few
wieeks : And thus ended the third campaign iu
America.

With an army of more than twenty thousand
regular troops, a great number of provincial for-
ces, and a naval power of more than twenty
ships of the line, nothing had succeeded. All
attempts agamst the enemy had failed ; and the
French, with a much inferior force, had every
■where gained the advantage. The British min-
istry did not appear to be sufficiently acquainted
with the state of things in America, to form a
judicious plan for a campaign in xhe eoionies ;
nor did the British generals appear to be enough
informed of the nature of a French and Indian
war, to^cairy it on with success. Loudon had
returned to Nevv/ York, and was engaged about
the civil affairs of the colonies. Massachusetts
had been the most active of all the provinces in
raising men and money for the Mar. In No»
vembtr, Loudon took offence at some of the
proceedings of their assembly ; which he con-
aftrued as implying that an act of tlieir R*genil)Ij'

HISTORY OF VERMONT, 401

>vas necessary to carry into effect an act of the
British Parliament for quartering their troops.*
In an hour of resentment he wrote to governor
Pownall, November 15, 1757. " I have order-

* ed the messenger to wait but forty eight hours

* in Boston ; and if, upon his return, I iiMd
f things not settled, I will instantly order into

* Boston the three battalions frOm New York,

* Long Island, and Connecticut, and if more are
'■ wanted, I have two in the Jersles at hand, be-
■^ sides three in Pennsylvania." The return not
being agreeable to*his lordship's feeling, he gave
orders that the troops should march. The
matter being properly explained, his lordship
wrote again, December 26th, " As I can now

* depend upon the assembly's making the point

* of quarters easy in all time coming, I have

* countermanded the march of the troops."*
While Loudon was engaged in such exploits,
Webb w^as safe at fort Edward j towards which
the enemy could not approach with much force,
during the winter. The French only were in a
state of activity and enjoyment : Instead of
proving distressing or mortifying to them, the
war had served to enlarge the boundaries of
Canada, to fill it wdth prisoners and scalps, with
private plunder, with public stores, arms, pro-
visions, and other trophies of triumph,

1758. The misfortunes and disgraces which
had attended the war for three campaigns had
been the occasion of ridicule and triumph to the
French, and had spread the spirit of jealousy
and discontent in every part of Great Britain,

* Gordoa's Hist. Amcricaa 'War, Vol. I. p. 96.

402 NATURAL AND CIVIL

and her American colonies. The people in
both countries became loud and clamorous in
their complaints and censures of the British
ministry and generals ; and it was become ap.
parent that the public confidence was withdrawn
from the men who had hitherto directed the af-
fairs of the war. The British nation was alarm-
ed with the prospect, and the British court
found it necessary to change her councils. A
new ministry was formed, and the celebrated
William Pitt was appointed one of the sec-
retaries of state. Public coi!fidence seemed to
rise from the grave, the national spirit was
roused up, and the people every where expect-
ing much from the spirit and virtues, were ea-
ger and active to support the measures of their
farorite patriot and statesman. The reduction
of the French, and the increasing prosperity of
the English colonies, had been the avowed ob-
jects in' all his speeches and proposals ; the
universal expectation was, that he Viould now
employ the national force in energetic and ac-'
tive services.

The plan which the new minister formed for
the ensuing campaign in America, Mas to at-
tack the French in various parts of the country
at the same time. Twelve thousand men were
destined to attempt the conquest of Louisbourg,
on the Island of Cape Breton. Sixteen or sev-
enteen thousand men to cross lake George^ and
make a vigorous attempt upon the forts at Ti-
conderoga and Crown Point,. Eight thousand
were to proceed to fort Du Quesne on the
Ohio, and invade the French forts and settle-
ipfients in that part of the country. And all the

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 4i3

American colonics were called upon, to raise as
many troops, and to make all the exertions in
their power.

The reduction of Louisbourg and the island
of Cape Breton being an object of immediate
consideration, was undertaken with much spirit
and dispatch. Lord Loudon had returned to
England, and was no longer employed in the
affairs of the colonies. The expedition was
put under the command of major general Am-
herst, assisted by the brigadier generals, Wolfe,
Whitmorc, and Lawrence. The naval force
was put under the command of admiral Bosca-
wen, "vvho sailed early in the spring with the
fleet and forces for America. The whole arma-
ment collected at Halifaxin Nova Scotia, and
consisted of one hundred and fifty seven sail.
On May the twenty eighth the .fleet sailed from
Halifax, and on the second of June, part of the
transports anchored in Gabarous bay, about sev-
en miles to the westward of Louisbourg. On
the eighth the troops effected their landing un-
der the command of the able and spirited gene-
ral Wolfe, and in a few days compleatly invest-
ed the city.

Louisbourg had a garrison of two thousand
five hundred regular troops, tiu'ee hundred mi-^
litia, and was afterwards reinforced by three
hundred and fifty Canadians, including three-
score Lidians. The harbor was secured by six:
ships of the line, and five frigates ; the whole
under the command of the cheveleur Drucour.
With much expence and labor, the governor
had been preparing: for a siesre. Amherst mad«
m& approaches with great circumspection.

404 NATURAL AND CIVIL

securing his camp with redoubts and epaulmcntfe
from the insults of the Canadians and Indians ;
of whom he was informed there were very con-
siderable bodies on the island watching for an
opportunity to surprise some part of his catnp,
Wolfe conducted with all that fire, impetuosity
and discretion, with which hi,'5 name and charac-
ter have since been distinguished and immortal-
ised. Under the direction of these excellent
commanders the siege was carried on with so
much caution and vigor that the French ships of
war were soon destroyed, and the garrison
obliged to surrender as prisoners of war on the
twenty sixth of July. Lord RoUo soon after
effected the reduction of the island St. John,
which lies in the gulph of St. LauTCnce. This
island contained above four thousand inhabitants
and abounded in black cattle and corn.

While Amherst was engaged in the expedi-
tion against Louisbourg, major general Aber-
crombie was undertaking the reduction of Ti-
eonderoga. Upon the departure of the earl of
Loudon to England, the chief command of the
troops in Aitierica had devolved upon him ; and
he was directed to open a passage to Canada by
reducing the French forts on lake Champlain.
In the beginning of July he had got every thing
tn readiness to proceed. His forces amounted
to nearly seven tliousand regular troops, and ten
thousand provincials. These, Vvith a fine train
of artillery, military stores, and provisions, were
embarked on lake George, on board of nine
hundred batteaux, and one hundred and thirty
five whale boais ; several pieces of cannon were
MCTimte-il on yafse to covei* their landing^. The

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 405

\i€X.t day the troops landed at the place of des-
tination, without any opposition.

Th£ English troops having landed were im-
mediately formed into three columns, and moved
forward toward the enemy. The advanced
l^arty of the French army consisted of a battal-
ion, which lay encamped behind a breast work
of logs. This party, upon the approach of the
English army, set fire to their breast work and
tents, and abandoned them with precipitation.
The English forces continued to advance in re-
gular order, but their route lay through a tliick
wood, which would not admit of a regular pro-
gression by columns ; and made it impessible
for the troops to preserve their designed arrange-
ment and order. The guides were much em-
barrassed, and the columns, by crowding upon
one another, were in some measure disordered
and broken.

Lord Howe was in the front of the centre
column, having major Putnam with him. The
advanced body of the enemy amounting to a-
bout five hundred, who had retreated from the
breast work, began a skirmish with the English
troops on the left. Attentive to every circum-
stance that concerned the troops, Howe enquired
«f Putnam, " what the firing meant." *' I
kno wnot, said Putnam, but with your lordship^s
leave, I will go and see." " I will go with
yoU)" rejoined the gallant young nobleman.
Putnam endeavored to dissuade him, and made
this remark, " My Lord, if I am killed, the loss
of my life will be of little consequence, but the
preservation of yours is of infinite impoitancc
to the army." His lordship made tins reply,
V9L. I. B 3

406 NATURx\L AND CIVIL

" Putnam, your life is as clear to you as mine
is to me, I am determined to go." One hun-
dred of the van under Putnam, immediately
filed olF with lord Howe. They soon fell in
with the left flank of the enemy's advanced par-
ty, and their first fire proved fatal to his lord-
ship. Thus fell this gallant young nobleman,
unspeakably regretted by all who knew him.

His manners and his virtues had made him
the idol of the army. From his first arrival in
America, he had accommodated himself and
his regiment to the peculiar nature of the ser'
vice. He cut his hair short, fashioned his
clothing, and divested himself and his regiment
of all superfluous baggage, that they might not
be entangled by the woods, or be easily captur-
ed by the Indians, " Exemplary to the officer,
a friend to the soldier, the model of discipline,
he had not failed to encounter every hardship
and hazard."'* Such v/ere his virtues and ser-
vices that the province of Massachusetts, mov-
ed by gratitude erected a monument in West-
minster Abbey, as a testimony of the regard
and affection which their officers and soldiers
bore to his memorv-f

Nor was his death without its influence and
iise, Putnam and the troops which saw him
fall, move'd on with an animated determination
to avenge his death ; they cut their way ob-
liquely through the enemy's ranks, and being
joined by some other parties, charged so furi-
ously in the rear, that nearly three hundred of
the enemy were killed on the spot, and one

* Putnam's Lifc,p. 5*-
J Appeadis, No. VIU

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 407

hundred and forty eight were made prisoners.
In the mean time the English columns, having lost
their order in the wood, became embarrassed
and perplexed ; and the troops were in danger,
and in a few instances had already fired on each
other. The general, perceiving their fatigue
and disorder, thought it advisable not to spend
the night in such a situation, but to march them
back to the place where they had landed.

The next day colonel Bradstreet was sent to
take possession of the saw mills. With a de-
tachment of. one regiment of regular troops, six
companies of the royal Americans, the batteau
men, and a body of rangers, he took possession
of the post without opposition. I'his post be-
ing secured, the general again, advanced his ar-
my against the enemy

The fort at Ticonderoga w^as in a situation
favorable for defence. On three sides, the for-
tress was surrounded with water ; on the fourth,
nature had secured it with a dangerous morass,
which could not be passed without much diiii-
cultv. The fort was secured with a breast work
eight feet high, planted with artillery. The
ground before it was covered with an abattis,
or large trees cut and disposed for defence.
Much labor had been employed to sharpen, in-
terweave, and project their branches, so that
they could not be passed or removed without
difficulty and time. The prisoners which had
been taken, informed general Abercrombie, that
the force of the enemy consisted of eight bat-
talions, with a body of Canadiniis and Iiidlans,
amountins: in the whole to six thousand men.
That another body of troops of three thousand

>

4i8 NATURAL AND CIVIL

men had been detached under the command of;
M. de Levy, to make a diversion by the way of
Mohawk river, and to invade the English set>
tlements in that quarter ; but that these troops
upon the intelligence of Abercrombie's approach,
had been recalled, and directed to join the forc«
at Ticonderoga : And that the troops already
there, were encamped before the fort, and con-
stantly at work in making formidable entrench-
ments, which they meant to pursue till the rein-
forcements should arrive.

Abercrombie wished if possible to take
decisive measures to reduce the garrison before
tlie arrival of M. de Levy with his troops, or
any other succours should be thrown into the
place. It was found that it would be the work
of time, to reduce the place by a regular siege ;
that it could not be done, till they had overcome
the difficulties of dragging their battering can-
non over grounds almost impassable ; till they
could make approaches, and erect batteries in
places covered with thick woods ; that the trees
must be cut away, roads be opened and many
■works erected, before they could invest the place.
To gain further information, Abercrombie sent
his enarineer earlv the next mornino; to cross the
river opposite to the fort and reconnoitre the
enemy's situation. The engineer, upon his re-
Umi, reported that the entrenchments of the en-
emy were unfinished ; and that it was his opin-
'u)w, that the place might be attempted with
musquetry, with a good prospect of success.
Abercrombie depended on the intelligence of
his engineer, and concluded to adopt his advice.

Haying dcterimnGd upon the msairure, th(*

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 409

disposition was made for the attack, and guardfi
placed at the saw mill, and landing place. Th«
army was then put in motion, aad it marched
on to the assault in regular order, and with an
undaunted resolution. The enemy instantly
began their defence by a well directed and ter-
rible fire from their artillery. The British sus-
tained the shock without being staggered, and
still advanced till they were stopped and entan-
gled by the abattis. Their next attempt was
to cut their way through these obstacles with
their swords ; but this, they found impossible
to effect, with such weapons. Still they perse-
vered in attempting to force, a passage, and
some of them made their way through all oppo-
sition till they mounted the parapet. For more
than four hours the troops continued tliis meth-
od of assault, without being able to open a pas-
sage to the entrenchment. All this while they
were exposed to a heavy and fatal fire from the
cannon and musquetry of the enemy ; who were
so well covered by their works, as to be expos-
ed to little danger while they kept up an inces-
sant and well directed fire upon tlieir assailants.
* The general had seen his troops continuing
their attack upon the enemy for several hours
without any prospect of success, in the midst of
a most fatal fire ; he now judged it necessary to
order a retreat, and the army returned to their
former camp without being pursued or molested
by the enemy.

The loss sustained by the enemy in this af-
fair was not great ; and most of those who had
fallen were shot through the head, every other
part of the body being (defended and senseaW

410 NATURAL AND CIVIL

by?their works. The loss in the English afniy
amounted to eighteen hundred men, killed and
v/ounded j and two thousand and live hundred
stand of arms were taken by the French.*

* General Abercrcrabie'j account of his expadition a^ainft Tlconderoga,

♦' Camp at Lake George, July i2, 1758.

THE embarkation of the artillery, ftores acd provifions being corn-
pleated on the evening ofthe4i.h inOant ; next morning at break of day
the tents were llrurk, ar»i all the troops, amounting to 6367 regulars, ofR-
cer», light infantry, and landers included, and 9024 provincials, including
officers and battcau men, cmbaikeu in about goo batteaux, and 135 whale
boats, the artillery to cover our landing, being mouiUed on rafts.

At five in the evening, reached Sabbatli Day Points (35 miles down the
Lake) where we halted till ten, then got under way again, and proceeded
lo the landiiTg piaQe (a cave leading to the French advanced guard) whicit
we reached early next morning, the 6ih.

Upon our arrival, fent out a reconnoitring party ; and having met with
no oppofition, lamdcd the troops, formed them in four eoiumns, regulars
in the centre, and provincials on the fjank?, and marched towaid the ene-
my's advanced guard, compofed of one battslion. policd on a logged
eamp, which, upon our approach ihcy deferted, C-.tii fetting fire to their
tents, and deflioying every thing thev could ; but as their retreat was very
precipitate, they left feveral things behind, which they had not time cither
to burn or cair}' off. In this camp we likewife found one prifoner and a
dead man.

The army in the foregoing order continued their njarch through the
wood on the weft fide, v/ith a dcfign to inveft Ticonderoga, but the woad
being very thick, impaffable with any regularity to lach a body of men,
and the guides unlkilfu!, the troops were bewildered, and thecoluiruzs
broke, falling in one upon another.

Lord Howe, at the head of the riqht centre coluiiin, fupported by the
light Infantry, being advanced, fell in with a French party, fuppofed to
€on?ifl of about 400 regulars, and a lew Indians, who had likewifeioft
themfelves in the retreat frotn the advanced guard ; of thefe our flankers
Villed a great many, and took 148 prifoners, anjong who;,i were five of-
ficers and three cadets.

But this fmall fuccefs coft us veiy dear, not as to the lofs of numbers
for we had only two officers kill»'d, but as to confcqacnce, his iordHiip
being the firll man that fell in this fkirmifh ; and as he was, very dsferved-
13', univerfally beloved and refpcfl d (hrcjghout the whole army, it is esfy
to conceive the grief ?nd corJlernation his untimely fall occafinned ; for
my part, I cannot help owning that I felt it molt heavily, and lament iiitn
as finccrcly.

The ^th, the troops being greatly fatigued, by having been one whole
jni-'ht on the water, trie following day con.fanilv on foot, and the nest day
nnn«i arm:=, added to their bring in want of provifion, having dropped
what they had brought with them, in order to ligliien themfelves, it was
thou^^ht advifeable to return to tha landing place, wiiich wc accordingly
4id about eight that raoratag.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 411

Every corps which had been engaged on this
tinfortunate occasion, had behaved with a steady
coohiess and intrepidity ; and suffered very se-
verely. But the heaviest loss fell on the regi-
ment of Highlanders, commanded by lord John
Murray ; one half of the privates, and twenty"
five officers of this regiment were either slain
upon the spot or desperately wounded.* So
heavy and severe a loss seems to have detei*min-
ed the English general to v/ithdraw his army

About eleven in the forenoon, fent off Lieut. Col. Bradftreet, with th«
44tli regiment, fix Qompzoies of the firft baitalion of ihe royal Americans,
the batteau men, and a body of rangers and provincial.';, to take poiTeffioa
of the Saw Mil!, witliin two miles of Ticondcro»a, which he foon efFe£led :
js the enemy who were poled there, after dclroyicgthe mill and break-
ing down I'lcir bridge, bsd retired I'ome tims before.

Lieutenant Colonel Bradftreet havin;; laid another bridge acrofs, and
hivinfi fcnt me notice cf his being in poffefl'ion of that ground, I according-
ly marched thither with the troops, and wc took up oar quarter* there
(hat night.

The prifoners we had tgkcn being unanimous in their reports, that the
French ha.', ei^ht battalions, feme Canadians and colony troops, in all
about 6ooo, encamped before their fort, who were intrenching thcmfelvesj
and throwing up a breail work, and that they expjfted a reinforcemsnt of
gcoo Canr-diaiiS, bcfides Indians, v.'ho had been detached under the com-
mand of Monfieur de Levy, to make a diverfion on the fide of the Mo-
hawk river ; but upon intslHgence of our preparations and near spproach,
had been repeatedly recalled, and v/as hourly expeSed ; it was thought
TOoft advifab!c to lore no time in making the attack ; wherefore early in
the morn(i;g of the 8 h, I fent Mr. Cieik, the engineer, acrofs the river on
the oppofite fide of the fort, in order to reconnoitre the enemy's intrcnch-
incnts.

Upon his return, and favourable report of the prafticability of carrying
thofe works, if attacked before they were finifised, it was agreed to ftorm
them that very day : Accordingly the •an.-^crs, ligkt infantry and the right
wing of Provinciali, were ordered i;nmcdia'cly to match and poll them-
fclves in a line, out of cauf'on (hot of the intrer.chir.eats ; the right extend-
ing to Lake Gforg". and tne left to Like Champlain, in Order that the re-
gular troops, dellir.ed for the attack of the iatrcnchmcnts, might form oai
their rear.

The Piquets were to b*gin the attack, fuftaincd by the grenadT<;r8, and
hy the battalions: the whole were ordered to march up brilkly, rulh upoQ
the enemy's trie, arid noi give theirs, until they \yere wilhifl the en'siny'a
bread work.

* Smollet's Hist, of Esglr.n(3., Vol. J.p. aSj.

412 NATURAL AND CIVIL

from tins scene of carnage and havoc ; thef
reembarked in their batteaux, and returned to
their camp at lake George with such expedition j
tliat they regained their former situation the
evening after the fatal action.

If general Abercrombie was not blameablc,
he was at least extremely unfortunate in this
fatal affair. The information and advice that he
received from his engineer ^vas greatly errone-
ous and faulty ; and it should seem that a little
enquiry would have been sufficient to convince
the general, that the works at Ticonderoga could

After thefe orders iffucd, the whole army, except what had been left at
the landing place to cover and guard the batteaux and whale boats, and •
Provincial regiment at the Saw Mill, were put in motion, and advahced te
Ticonderoga, where they unfortunately found the intrenchments, riot only
much (Ironger than had been reprefentrd, and the breaff work at lead eight
or nine feet high ; but likcwifc the ground before it covered with felled
Irceii, the branches pointed outwards, v/hich fo fatigued and retarded the
advancing of the troops, that notwithftanding all their intrepidity and
travery, which I cannot too much commend, we fuflained fo confiderable
a lofs, without any profpeft of better fucceTs, that it was no longer pru-
dent to remain before it ; and it was therefore judj^ed neccffary, for the
prtfervation of thie remainder of fo many brave men, to prevent a total de-
feat, that we (hould make the beft retreat pofTible : Accordingly, after
feVcnal repeated attacks, which lafted upwards of four hour*, undet the
wort difadvantageCus circumflanccs, and with the lofs of 464 regulars kil-
led, 29 miffing, jiiy wounded ; and 87 Provincials killed, SmilFing, and
239 wounded, officers of both included, I retired to the camp v/e occupied
tlie night before, with the broken remains of feveial corps, fending away
»11 the wounded to the batteaux, about three miles diftancc ; and early the
next morning we arrived there ourfelves, embarked, and reached this place
the evening of the 9th. Immcdietely after my return here, I fent the
wounded odicers and men that couid be moved, to Fort Edward aiid
Albany."

'the Freach, in the account which they pablifhed at Paris in Septem.
bey, gave a very different but not a probable account of this rencounter.
Their own fores was flatcd toconfift only of iSno French, and 450 colon v"
ffoopt, under the marcjUis dc Montcalm ; with 400 chofen men uiider the
chevaliw de Ixvy, that had joined them only on the 7th in the evening.
The lofj of the Englifh is rcprclenicd at 4000 killed and wounded ; that
the French lolt that day only T2 cfiicers and qt foldieri, killed ; and 24!
foJdicrs wounded. Their lofs in the fkirmim of the 6th of July, is thu«
Dated, 1 rapiaiu and « lieutenants killed; s captain and 3 lieutenanti
iriad- prifoners ; and iSj Canadians killed or taken ; And that tVi«
l^H^ViSh i9[tt coalAcd of e«,cc9 miH'.n, mti 6090 rx-guhif troop.

HTSTORY OF VERMONT. 411

'not be carried by a coup de main. Had he
continued the assault, there can be no doubt,
but that he would have lost almost the whole of
his army. If xhe assault was rash and precipi-
tate, the retreat seems to bear the marks of un-
necessary intimidation and hurry ; for it is diffi-
cult to conceive v-hat danger there could have
been, in con^mencing a regular siege with troops>
who had discovered such courage and resolution
as appeared in the assault. We ought however
not to be ver^^ positive in passing our censures
on men and nieiisures, where all the circumstan-
ces and motives are but imperfectly known.
The censure of mankind almost always follows
misfortune. Thus it proved in the present case ;
the attempt to carry the place by storm, was
considered as a rat>h and imprudent measure ;
and the retreat was condemned as [Hisillanimous
and unnecessary.

Notwithstanding his defeat and mortifi-
cation, Abcrcrombie did not let the season pass
away vvdthout furilier attempts in fay or of th®
colonies. Brip^adier general Stanwix was sent
Vv'ith a considerable body of provincials, to erect
a foit at the carrying place at Oneida ; and thus
secure a passage on the Mohawk and Onondago
rivers to Oswego. This business was properly
executed, and that important post secured ; a,
measure winch proved greatly beneficial in the.
ensuing campaigns.

Colonel Bradstreet had projected an
expedition against Cadaraoui, or fort PVontcnac.
This fort was situated on the north side of the-
river St. Lav/rence, just at the poirit where the
river derives its origin at lake Ontario. A*
VOL. I. C 3

414 NATURAL AND CIVIL

t^ainst this fortress, Abcrcrombie dispatched
Bradstreet wiih three thousand men, chiefly
provincials. He marched his troops by land to
the waters of lake Ontario, and embarked thence
in some sloops and batteaiix provided for the
purpose, and landed within a mile of fort Fron-
tenac. The enemy had no intelligence or ex-
pectation of his approach, and were poorly pre-
pared for defence. The garrison consisted of
but one hundred and ten men, with a few In-
dians ; and could do no otherwise than surren-
der at discretion. The fort itself was not of
much strength ; but it was valuable on account
of the immense quantity of military stores and
merchandize, which it contained. Sixty pieces
of cannon, sixteen mortars, and a quantity of
small arms were found in the fort. What was
more valuable, a large quantity of provisions was
also captured ; these had been deposited at Ca-
daraqui, for the use of their western garrisons,
and Indian allies ; to supply the French troops
that were gone to the Ohio, against brigadier
general Forbes ; and for the subsistence of M,
dc Le^'y and his troops, on their expedition on
the Mohawk river. In addition to all the mili-
tary stores and provisions there was also an im-
mense quantity of merchandize, for the purpose
of trade with the Indians, and to supply their
own forts and settlements. Besides the forts
and stores, Bradstreet made himself master of
;^11 the enemy 's shipping on the lakes ; these a~
mounted to nine armed vessels, some of which
carried eighteen guns. Having carried the fort
without an} loss of men, Bradstreet, in confor-
mity to tl'.e general's orders, destroyed the

HISTORY OF VER.MONT. 415

works, with all the magazines and stores ; and
immediately returned with his men to Oswego,
taking with him two of the enemy's vessels.* '
NoTHiN* had yet been done upon the lakes,
during the whole course of the war, which had
so much aiFcctcd the French interest as this ex-
ploit of colonel Bradstreet at Cadaraqui. Fort
Frontenac, by its situation, had the entire com-
mand of the origin of the river St. Lawrence.
It was the grand magazine of military stores
and provisions, for all their western .posts and
settlements, and for their Indian allies ; it com-
manded the passage into all tiie western lakes,
and was the grand emporium, where all the sav-
age nations collected to transact their business
of trade, and to consult with the French on the
afiairs of war. The unexpected and total de-
struction of this place not only :.larmed and sur-
prised the French, but it carried dismay and
terror to their Indian allies ; who had never seen
such a sudden and extensive destruction, carried

* Colonel Brad»tra«»'s Letter to General Amherft, on the reduction of

Forte Frontenac.

0*wc.fO, August JT, 1758.
T landed with the troopj within x mile of Ifort Frontenac without op-
position, th* 25th. The garriion surrendered priioncrs of war the l/th,
between 7 and 8 in the morning — It vra» a «quare fort of loo yards, the ex-
terior side, and had in it iioraen,iom« women, children, and Indians; 6 >
piece* of cannon, (half of -which were mo«uted) lixteen small mortars,
viiih an immenie quantity of prcviiiont and goods, to b* sent to the troops
jjone to oppcse Brig. Gen. Forbes, their •./extern garrisons, Indians, and
to support the army under the command of M. i.«vy,on h's intended en-
terprise against the Mohawk river, vjilued by the French at 800,000 livrcs.
Wc have likewise taken 9 veneh from S to 18 juns, which ire all they
have upon the lake, two of which I have brought here ; one richly laden ;
and the rest and the proviiions 1 have burnt and destroyed, together with
the fort, artillery, stores, &c. agreeable to your execUeucy's instructions,
should I succeed. The garri-ion made no scruple of saying, that their
troops to the southward and western garrisons will sufSer greatly, if not
entirely starve, for want of the provisions »nd vessels we have destroyed,
as they have not any left to bring them home from Niagara. The termi
#>n which the garrison surrender«4 w-erc pri«»ntei ef w*r, 4i>iil »«chanj;c(l
foe t^^Ucil nwiubsn uid mak.

416 NATURAL AND CIVIL

•with slich secrecy and dispatch, into the Frenclife
country.

The success of Bradstreot at Cadaraqui, was
not without its effect on the feelings and move-
ments of the Indians, on the Ohio. In the be-
ginning of July, brigadier general Forbes began
his march from Philadelphia, for fort Du Quesiie.
The fort stood on the confliience of the Monon-
gahala with the Ohio river. With incredible dif-
ficulties, through a vast tract of country, but little
known, without roads, through unexplored
mountains, morasses and woods, he had pene-
trated with the main body as far as Ra};s-tovvn,
at the distance of ninety miles from fort Du
Quesne. He had sent on colonel Bouquet^
with two thousand men, fifty miles further, to a
place called Lyal Henning. Bouquet' had de-
tached major Or nt, at the bead of eight hundred
men, to reconnoitre the fort and works at the
Ohio. The enemy having inteliigencc of Grant's
approach, sent forward a much larger body to
intercept and surround him, A severe action
took place, which the English su];ported v,ith
much courage and resolution for tl.rec hours,
but at lcn«:th wxre oblij^ed to vit-Id to the Su-
psrior numbers of the enemy. Tliree Ivundred
v.ere killed or taken bv the encmv, amor:"-
whom was major Grant, tl^e comniandcr ; he,
<ind nineteen of his ofiicers. Vv'cre CLrriied prisoi?'
ers to fort Du Quesne ;. the rcinainder of his
troops fought their \\i.\y back to Bouquet.
Forbes was not dismayed by this mortifying-
check, but still advanced with m«ich caution,
and a steady perseverance. The enemy having
watched his motions, and observed the circum-

HISTORY OF Vi^RMONT. 41T

ppcction iwvJi vigor, v. Uh Vvhich he mace hir.
advancts, covxhulcd net to iibide the hazrad
and event oi a !-;e<-;c ; hut dismantled and aban-
doned the fort, a:;d rttiicd down the Oiiio, to
their settlements on ii:e Mississippi. On th-:;
twer.t}' fourth of -NoveTiibpr they quitted the fort
and tiie next day it v/<<s taken pessession of by
the British arvn\', ILiviarc r( i.xiired the works,
Forbes chajtg:ed the name of the fort from Dii,
Quesne, to that of Pittbburg, v.liich it sXill
bears.*

Such were the event", of the c:5mpa!G:n of
1758. The exiDeditions a2:yinst Louisbouro",
Forts Frontenac and D'j Qnesyie, had compleat-
}y suecceded. That against riconderogu had
fiiiled. The events of the campaign h.ad been
iiiuch in f.ivor of the Britiiih interest ; and the
advantages that had been obtained over the
French, gave flattering h.opes and prospects that
thev inis,i.t be pursued to much CTcater advan-
ta^^e, in t'le course of another year. General
Amherst had now assumed the command, and
the pubiic cxpcctati;.;i and feeling ' v.-ere ready
to alford any assistance that he should ask.
This general was already preparing for the next
camp?.ign. Soon ailer lie had compkatcd tlie
conquest of Cape Breton lie received intelli-
gence of the defeat of Abercrombie at Ticon-
dero^a. Lcavinc" a strong; j^arrison at Louis-
bourg, he embarked with six regiments, and
landed at Boston. About the middle of Sep-
tember, he began his march for Albany, to join
the troops at the lake ; to attempt any further
enterprise, or to be in readiness for the next
campaign, as the season and circumstances
should permit.

• Sraollrt's Hist. EnghadjVol.j, p.a^i.

418 NATURAL AND CIVIL

CHAPTER XIIL

War. Prm^res.'; and events of the vjar in the
years 1759 and 1760. Plan of the campaign
for 1759. Conquest of Quebec by general
IVoIfe. Capture of Ticonderoga mid Croivn
Point by general Amherst. Expedition a-
gainst the Indian village of St. Francois by
major Rogers. Proceedings on lake Cham-
plain. Capture of A'iagara by General John-
son. Refections on the campaign of 1759.
Measures of Faudric III at Montreal in 1760.
Plan ctnd proceedings of general AmJierst.
General iilurraifs defeat at Quebec^ and arri-
val at Montreal. Ilaviland's arrival at the
river St. Lawrence. Capitulation and surren-
der of Canada to general Amherst. Refer-
■ tions on tlic origin of these vjars. Their ef-
fects on the morals, literafur^, populaiion, set-
tlement and political state of the colonies.

1759. FROM the advantai^es that had
been already obtained over the French, the
British ministry had beer- lead to expect that
tiie compleat conquest of Canada might be ef-
fected in another campaign ; if their troops
were employed so as to divide the enemy's for-
ces, and to make their impressions on dillcrent
parts of the country at the same time. In pur-
suance of this plan the British minister, Pitt,
had projected three expeditions against Canada.
General WoiG;:, who li.id l)een so much distin-
guished in the siege of Louisbourg, was to pro-
ceed up the river St. Lawrence with a body of
light thousand men, as soon as the river should

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 41 D

be clear of ice, and lay siege to Quebec, the
capital of Canada. General Amherst, who was
commander in chief, was to proceed with au
army of regular troops, and provincials, amount-
ing to twelve thousand ; and attempt the reduc-
tion of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, and
thence proceed through lake Champlain and the
river Sorel, to the assistance of Wolfe. At the
same time brigadier general Prideaux with a
third body, reinlbrced by the Indians under the
influence and command of sir William Johnson,
was to invest the French fort at Niagara, arid
endeavor to reduce that important fortress. It
was concluded, that while all these forces were
making their attacks in different directions, they
would all serve to assist each other ; and at the
same time to divide the forces, and embarrass
the councils of the enemy.

The plan itself was marked with the energy
and boldness of the minister's genius. The
naviiration of the river St. Lawrence had ever
been viewed as verv difficult and dana'erous for
a fleet. The city of Quebec w^as strongly forti-
fied by nature and art, formidable on account of
the number and bravery of its inhabitants, and
in a situation in which it could not be much in-
jured by a fleet, or approached but by a strong
army by land. The marquis de Montcalm was
a general of much courage, activity, and expe-
rience ; already famous for his exploits, and
success against the English. This officer had
taken his situation between Quebec and Mon-
treal, with an army of ten thou:iand men, con-
sisting of regular troops, and well disciplined
militia, reinforced by a larg-e number of armed

AZO NATURAL AND CIVIL

Ir.dians. An army of reserve hovered round
Montreal, the residence of M. de Vuudrieulj
the commander in chief, and governor s^eneral
of Canada, 'i'he fort at Niagara was \vel! built^
and fortified, and contained a garrison of tix
hundred men ; the road to wliich, was loiigj
embarrassed, and unexplored. IvL de Levy
%vas also at the head of a %ing detachment, ac-
qi! iinted with the vv^ood^i and p:^sses, scouria,^
the country in ail directions ; and angm.ented
by new recruits, as occasions and circun-stances
required. And every preceding attempt h;id
shewn the diincult}-, the danger, and the ill suc-
cebs, of an expedition against Quebec, or Ti-
conderoga. Aware of these diliiculties, but ani-
mated bv the o'cnius of Mr. Pitt, the British
colonies and troops entered witli energy and
seal upon measures, tliat rather bore the ap-
pearance of danger and defeai", than of probabil-
ity and success.

The most difiicult part of the business, and
the great object to which a.li the other opera-'
tions of the campaign were subordinate, was th<i
conquest of Quebec. This expeditioix had been
conimiited to the care of raaj'^!' J^eneral Wolfe ;
ayou.ng ofFicer oi" great enterprise and resolution^
and of a superior militarv i-reniusi He was as-
sistcd by the brigadier geriCrals, MoivckloUj
ToVvTishend, and Murray ; oliicers of distinctiou,
ciamily, and much experience, though yet in
eariv- life. The souadron desi2:ned for the ser-
vice Vvas put undirthc command of Admirals*
Sanders and Holmes, wlio had on several occa-
sions i:.cr<)rc sii^tralized their courage and co'.u
duct in the i:ervice of their country. The fleet

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 421

isailed from Enj^hmd about the middle of Feb-
tiuuy, and was iii sight of LouisbourQ; so early
as the twenty first of April ; but the harbof
beiti.s^ blocked Up with ice, the fleet bore away
for il.ilif.ix. As soon as the season would per^
mit, the troops were embarked, and the fleet
sailed up the river S". L iwrence, without meet-
ins^ with any of those difficulties or perils, which
thty had been taught to expect. Tow.irds the
latter end of June, the whole army was safely
•landed on the isle of Orleans, a little below Que-
bec, withfnit any opposition, or having met with
any disaster.

From that time till the beginning of Septem-
ber, general W'^olte was struggiiiig without pros-
pect of success, against every kind of ditHculty,
in an enemy's couiitry, against a city strongly
fortiiied by niture and art, defended by an army
more numerous than his own, eommand.?d by
Montcahii, whose military talents avid exploits
had already rendeied him famous and formida-
ble to the Britibh colonies and generals. la
addition to otiier diiliculties he had received a
severe check, an 1 lost above five hundred of
his men, in an attack which he made on the
enemy at the falls of Moiitniorenci. A fever and
a dysentan^'^ were wasting his own strength, and
for a tinae he became unabie to attend to busi-
ness.

Almost despairing of success, it ^vas the
oif)i\iion of his general ofliuers that there was na
prospect of succeeding, unless they could carry
the troops above the town, effect a landing on
the north shjre, and bring the enemy, if possi-
ble, to -A generj engigein^hi. Wolfe adopted
VOL. I. D 3

422 NATURAL AND CIVIL

the opinion as a matter of extremity and ftec^S*
sity, and began the measures that were neces-
sary to carry it into execution. After a series
of the most uncommon difficulties, and judicious
Tnanceu\Tes, by the most dexterous address, and
well concerted movements, he succeeded in ef-
fecting a landing near Sillary on the twelfth of
September, an hour after midnight. Wolfe
himself was with the first party that landed ;
and in an instant all was activity, enterprise,
and expedition. The troops' that were first
landed, climbed up the bank and precipice, by
the bushes and bouehs of trees, with the most
animated agility and resolution ; they dispersed
a captain's guard who were placed there to de-
fend the narrow path of ascent, and gained the
summit without any further molestation from
the enemy. Wolfe climbed up among the rest ;
and as soon as he had ascended the banks, drew
up his troops in order as fast as they arrived.

Montcalm was no sooner informed that the
British troops had gained the heights of Abra-
ham, which in a manner commanded the town
in its weakest part, than he resolved to hazard
a battle, and having collected his whole force
from the side of Beauport, began hi:: march
without delay. Both armies were soon drawn
np in order of battle, with their respective gen-
erals at their head. Wolfe had placed himself
on the right of the English ; Montcalm was on
the left of the French army : Thus the two
generals, rivals worthy of each other, met at the
he;id of tl eir respective armies, where the con-
flict was the most severe. About nine o'clock
the French army advanced to the charge ire

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 423

good order, and with vivacity ; but with an ir-
regular and not well directed fire. The British
reserved their fire, till the enemy had approach-
ed within forty yards of their Ikie ; then they
poured in a terrible discharge, and kept up their
fire with great deliberation and spirit. The
contest for a few moments was dreadful ; both
generals were determined to conquer or die ;
and their armies knew that on the event of an
hour, the fate of Quebec depended. The French
i-j-ere unable to stand the impetuosity and fire of
the British but for a short time ; and the battle
soon terminated in the entire defeat and disper-
sion ©f the French army. Wolfe* and Mont-
calm* both fell at the head of their troops, and
the British were left compleatly masters of the
field, under brigadier general Townshend. Five
hundred of the etiemy were slain on the field of
battle, and about one thousand were made pris-
oners ; of the British, fifty men were killed, in-
cluding nine officers, and as many as five hun-
dred were wounded. Dispirited by the event,
and disheartened by the loss of theii' able and
favorite general Montcalm, the French were in
great consternation ; and on September the
eighteenth, De Ramsay, the officer on whom
the command had devolved, signed articles of
capitulation, and surrendered the troops and the
city to admiral Sanders and general Townshend.
Thus was effected the conquest of the city of
Quebec. For seventy years the English had
been attempting to reduce this place. I'he force
that was sent against it ie the year 1711, was

• Appendix, No. VIII.
■f App<so4i«j No. IK,'

424 NATURAL AND CIVIL

fully equal to that which was now before it^
The force that Wolfe ccmmandtd did not ap-
pear adequate to its reduction, and it was delcDr
ded by the greatest general the French hcd ever
employed in Canada. The genius of Wolfe
. succeeded in defeating their general, and sub-
duing their capital.

While these scenes were taking place at
Quebec, general Amherst had no information of
the proceedings in that quarter, but was busily
employed in pushiiig forward the expedition on,
lake Champlain. So many difficulties occurred,
to retard the operations of his arniy in that un-
settled part of the country, that the summer was,
already far advanced, before he could pass lake
George Avith his troops and artillery. Aware
of the danscer of surprise, and not unmindful of
the disaster that the British troops had sustained
the yecir beforCi this able and judicious oflicf r
proceeded with the greatest circumspection ;
leaving nothing to chance, but making provi-
sion for every difficulty, or opposition, that
could be foreseen. At length, in the latter end
of July, he arrived in the vicinity of Ticondero-
ga, with his army of regulars and provincials, in
excellent order, and aipply supplied with ar-
tillery, military stores, arid provisions. The
ei.eaiy h .d watched all his motions, and beta
ver}' attentive to find an opportunity to gain some
advantage ; but they had not ventured to make
any opposition to his troops, either when j^c.s-
sing the lake, or effecting' tiieir landing. Haviiig
passed the lake and landed bis stores, Amherst
immediately began to make preparation to re-
duce die iortiess by a ie|,uiar siege. At firsit

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 425

the enemy appeared to be resolute to hold the ir
works, and to make a regular defence. They
soon found that they had an able oflicer to op-,
pose ; that Amherst was cautious, resolute,
ivtll prepared for undertaking the siege, and not
disposed to subject any thing to unnecessary
risk or hazard. Despairing of success by any
surprise, or extraordinary exertions, and h.ivi.ig
orders to retreat from place to place to-.vards
the centre of operations at Quebec, rather than
to run the risk of diminishing the French force
by surrendering prisoners of vit^r, they set about
dismantling the fortifications ; and having done
some small injuries to the works, they abandon-
ed them on the night of the twenty seventh of
July, and repaired to Crown Point ; leaving
their heavy artillery, several sunken boats, and
the works but little damaged though on fire.
The same day, Amherst took posstssion, and
encamped within the French lines. This im-
portant acquisition was effected without much
opposition or bloodshed : It was however mark-
ed with the loss of colonel Roger Townshcnd, a
very accomplished young officer, who was killed
by a cannon ball as he was reconnciterin.g the
fort. This young nobleman much resembled
the gallant lord Howe, in the circumstcinces of
birth, age, character, and useful qualifications.
He fell near the same spot, where that youngj
hero was sluin the year before.

Having succeeded in his attempts agjnsfe
Ticonderoga, Amherst began to repair and en-
large the fortifications ; and to prepare his bat-
teaux and other vessels for an expedition a^
gainst Crowa Point, Scoutli.g and ranging

426 NATURAL AND CIVIL

parties were constantly employed, hovering m
the neighborhood of that place, and watching
all the measures and motions of the enem^.
One of these parties returned to the English
camp on August the first, and brought intelli-
gence that the French had also abandoned
Crown Point, and were gone down the lake,
without destroying the works. Amherst de-
tached a body of rangers to take possession of
the place ; and on the fourth of August em-
barked with his army, landed the same day, and
placed his troop* vvithin the enemy^s works.
Thus was effected the reduction of Ticondero-
ga and Crown Point. From the time of their
first erection they had given security to the in-
roads of the enemy, afforded an asylum to the
scalping parties that had infested the frontiers of
the whole country, and cost the British colonics
immense sums of money and many thousands
of her citizens. They now fell by the attack
that Wolfe was making upon Quebec, and by
the caution and resolution that Amherst dis-
played in the approach and manceuvres of his
army. No sooner was their conquest com-
pleated than Amherst superintended the works,
strengthened and enlarg-cd the old ones, and be-
gan a new fort ; meaning to make effectuai
provision that the enemy should never again
obtain possession of a post, which had been so
dangerous and distressing to the British provin--
CCf - *

The French troops, after the evacuation of
Crovv^n Point, retired to the Isle Aux Noix.
'i'his island is at the north end of lake Cham-
plain, about five leagues to tke south of St»

HISTORY OF VEnMONT. 427

Johns ; and being situated in the midst of the
stream, tffcotuaiiy commands the passage into
C mada, in that quarter. At this place, M. ..]e
Burlemagnc had collected a force consisting of
three battalions, and five piquets of regular troops
and a bodr of Canadians and marines, amount-
ing in the whole to three thousand and five hun-
died men ; provided with a numerous artillery,
and every requisite for defence. '1 he lake was
defended by four larQ-e vessels, mounted with
cannon, and manned with piquets from different
legiments ; under the command of M. le Brass,
a captain in the French navy, assisted by M, de
Rigel, and other sea officers. With this force,
M. de Burlemaq-ne encamped and fortified at the
Isle Anx Noix ; meaning to make a stand a-
gainst the British forces. And Amherst could
not proceed down the lake till he had construct-
ed^ naval force superior to that of the Frencli.*

In the mean time it was thou2;ht best to make
the enemy feel the f ^rce and resentment of the
Knfylish colonies. The Indians had not as yet
discontinued their atlemnts to disturb and dis-
tress the frontiers. Amono: these tribes none
had been more bloody and cruel than that of St.
Francois. Their villae-e was situated on the
south side of the river St. Lawrence, not far
from Trois Rivieres. So early as the year 1703,
the governor of Canada had drawn ofi'a large
number of Indians from Penobscot, Norrige-
wock, Saco, PigVi'acket, and other parts of the
eastern country and settled them at Becancour
and St. Francois. By uniting them with the la-

* Ssnollct's Hist. EpglaJKi, Vol. J, p. 47«.

428 NATURAL AND CIVIL

dirins of Canada, he meant to procure a force suf-
ficient to protect their own frontiers ; and to
h :ve always in reserve, a body of savages well
acquainted with the Enghsh frontiers, and the
iiiost favourable times and places of carrying
dcsol.uion among them.* The event justified
Ms ex^Tectations. From none of the Indian
tribes had the provinces of New-Hampshire and
Massachusetts suffered so much, as from the
savages of this village and tribe. They made
their incursions through the river St. Francois
to lake Memphrcmagog, and from thence down
Connecticut river to the English settlements ;
nnd had been much distinguished by the slaugh-
ter and destruction they had spread among the
advanced settlements, by the number of their
scalps and captives, and by the enormity of their
crueitv and barbaritv.

M '.jor Rogers was appointed by general Am-
herst, to manage an excursion against this bar-
b.;rous tribe and to carry the horrors of war into
the midst of Canada. Rogers was from the
province of New-Hampshire. He commanded
a company so early as the year 1755; and had
become so flimous for the number, boldness and
success of his enterprises, that lord Loudon had
set him at the head of the ranging companies^
put him upon the British establishment and pay,
till he rose to the rank of a major. Amherst
esteemed him a proper person to retaliate on an
I idian viliasce, sjme of the measures thev had
BO ofte.i aciel, against the advanced P^nglish
fori 3 and settlements. Tiie orders which he

• ilutclxiajsn's Hist* MassicUus-tts, Vol. 2, p. iji.

HISTORY OF VERMONT, 429

gave to Rogers, were expressive of the charac-
ter and views of the English general ; and of
the sentiments and feelings of the English colo-
nies, with respect to the Indian cruelties."^

In cop.f -rniity to his orders, Rogers set out
with two hnndred men in batteaux, and proceed-
fed down 1 eke Champlain. On the fiftii day af-
ter they left Crown Point, tliey met with a mis-
fortune which diminished their numbers. Being
encamped on the eastern shore of the lake, a keg
of gun powder accidentally took fire, which in
its explosion wounded a captain of the royal re-
giment, and several of the men. These were
sent back to Crown Point, with gome of the
party to conduct them ; by this e vent the party-
was reduced to one hundred and forty two men,
officers included. With this reduced p^rty, the
major proceeded on the expedition, and in seven
days landed at Missiscoe bay. Here he con-
cealed his boats' among the bushes that hung
over one of the streams, and left in them provi-
sions sufficient to carry them back to Crown

* " Orders from Sir Jefirey Amherst to major Rogers.
*' Ycu are this night to »et out with the detacVimcnt asordered yesterday,
•(viz. of two hundred m^si and proc??d to Missiscoe Bay, front
' \«hence you will march and attack the enemy's settlements orrthe south.
'side of the river St. Lawrence, in such a ma'^ner as you shall judge
« mi^st effectual to disgrace the enemy, and for the success and honor 06

• his Majesty's arms.

« Remember the barbarities that have been committed by the enemy's

• Indian s;oundr(:;is, on every occasion where they have had an opportunity
« of showing their infamous cruelties on the King's subjei5ls ; which they

• have done without mercy; take your revenge : but do not forget that
•lh:>ugh th^se villains have dastardly and promiscuously murdered the
,' v>'omen and chiidrew of all orders, it'is my orders that no women or chil-

• dren be killed or hurt.

"Whea you have executed your intended service, you will return witk

• your detachment 10 camp, or to join me wherever the army may be.

' Yours, &c.

' Jr.FFRET Amherst;
' Camp at Crown-Point, Septem.ber i;, I759i"
fiimes' Military Dictionary — Art. Trcsreverc.

VOL. I. E 3

450 NATURAL AND CIVIL

Point. Two of his rangers were appointed to
watch the boats, and to keep themselves con-
cealed till the party should return ; or if the en-
emy should discover the boats, to pursue the
track of the party with the greatest speed, and
give inteliigeace to the commander. The se-
cond evening after Rogers left the bay, the two
trusty rangers overtook the party, and informed
Ro2:ers that four hundred French and Indians
Iiad discovered the boats and sent them away
with fifty men ; and that the remainder were
in pursuit of the English pai-ty. Rogers kept
the intelligence to himself ; and ordered a lieu-
tenant, with eight men and these two rangers to
proceed to Crown Point ; inform the general of
what had taken place, and request him to send
provisions to Coos (now Newbury) on Con-
necticut river, by Vv'hich he m.eant to return.

Nothing now remained for Rogers but to
give up the expedition, or to outmarch his pur-
suers. He determined on the latter, and push-
ed forward for St. Francois, with all the expe-
dition that was possible. On the fourth of Oc-
tober, at eight o'clock in the evening, he came
within sif;hi of the town. Ordering his m.en to
halt and refresh themselves, he dressed himself
in the Indian garb, and took with him two In-
dians Vv'ho understood the language of the St,
Frar.cois tribe, and went to reconnoitre the town.
Ke found the Indians engaged in a grand dance,
and without any apprehension of danger. At
tv,-o o'clock in tlie morning, he returned to his
detachmeiit, and marched them to the distance
of about five hu! 'dred yards from the town. A-
bout four o'clock the Indians broke up their

HISTORY OF VERMONT, 431

dance and retired to rest. Rogers ivaitcd till
thuy were asleep, and at break of dry, lie posted
his men in the most favorable situation and made
a general assault.* Compleatly surprized, the
Indians were soon subdued. Some were
killed in their houses, and of those who attemp-
ted to fly, many were shot, or knocked on the
head by those who were placed at the avenues.
The Indian method of slaughter and destruction
was put in practice on this occasion ; and wher-
ever the Jnditms were found, their men, women
and children, were slain without distiiiction and
without mercy. The ferocity of the proceeds-
ings were already extremely violent, but the
prospects which appeared at the rising of the
sun, could not but add new force and irritation
to the feelings and passions of the assailants.
As the lip;ht appeared, the scalps of several hun-
dred of their countrymen were seen, suspended
on poles, and waving in the air. These trophies
of savasre crueltv and success could not fail ta
irritate to the highest degree, the passions of the
provincial soldiers ; they meant to avenge the
blood of their friends and relations, and they
spared no pains to make an end of the village,
and of all that they could find of its inhabitants.
The village contained three hundred of the ene-
my ; two hundred were killed on the spot, and
twenty taken prisoners.

The town appeared to have been in a very
flourishing state. The houses were well fur-
nished, and the church was handsomely adorned
^iih plate ; the whole village had been enriched

* Snugs' Dictt<«!U7, i*iJ,

432 NATURAL AND CIVIL

by the scalps, and plunder, taken from the
En^gjlish. Two hundred guineas were found in
money, and a silver image weighing ten pounds ;
besides a large quantity of wampum, cloathing,
and some provisions.* Collecting the provi-
•sions, and such articles as they could easily
transport, they set fire to the town, and reduced
it to ashes. At seven o'clock in the morning
the affair Vv'as eompleatly over ; Rogers then
assembled his men, found that one was killed,
and six slightly wounded. Having refreshed
his men for one hour, the mr.jor made no further
delay ; but set out o^ his return, with the addi-
tion of five English captives whom he had re-
taken ; leaving the inhabitants slain, and the
villao'e reduced to ashes.f

To avoid his pursuers, Rogers now took a
different route, and marched up St. Francois
river ; meaning to have his men collect, and
rendezvous at Coos, on Connecticut river. On
their march they were harrassed by some of the
enemy, and several tim.es attacked in the rear.
In these rencounters they lost seven of their
men, till Rogers, favoiTd by the dusk of the
evening formed an ambuscade upon his own
track, and fell upon the enemy where they least
expected it ; b}- this stroke, he put an end to
any further annoyance from the enemy. For a-
bout ten days the detachment kept together, tiU
they had passed the eastern side of lake Memi-
phremagog. it was then thought best to scat-
ter into smaller parlies, and make the best of
their way to some of the English settlcments«

* Belknap's Hist. New HauJf siirc, Vok 5h p. ^04.
J Sioies. ibiU.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 433

Their sufferings now began to be se\ere, not
only from the excessive fatigues they had un-
dergone, but from hunger. Their provisions
were expended, and they were yet at a distance
from any place of relief. Some were lost in the
woods, raid others perished at Coos, beiPig un-
able to hold out any further.* But Rogers,
with the most of his men, persevered amidst ail
their sufferings, till they arrived at Number
Four, now Chariestown. This enterprise prov-
ed extremely dangerous and fatiguing to the
men, who had been engaged in it ; but it made
a deep impression on the enemy. It carried a-
larm and consternation into the heart of Canada,
and convinced the Indians that the retaliation of
vengeance was now come upon them.

While Rogers was thus employed in hum-
blhig the Indians on the river St. Lawrence,
general Amherst was preparing to carry his ar-
my against the forts and settlements in Canada.
The naval force of the enemy, as yet gave them
the command of the lake ; the first business of
the English general was, to obtain a superiority
there. Captain Loring had for some time been
employed to superintend the building of vessels
at Ticonderoga. Having obtained information
of the situation and force of the enemy at the Isle
Aux Noix, Amherst directed Loring to build,
with the greatest expedition, a sloop of sixteen
guns, and a radien, eighty four feet in length,
capable of carrying six large cannon. By the
eleventh day of October, these, together with- a
briganti«e were finished, victualled and manned i

* Belknap. Mi.

434 NATURAL AND CIVIL

and the general embarked with the whole bodr of
his army in batteaux, to engage the enemy.
The next day the weather became tempestuous,
and they were obliged to come to anchor in a
bay on the western side of the lake, and the men
were landed for refreshment. In the mean time,
Loring, with his small squadron, sailed down
the lake, and discovered the French force : He
gave chace to a French schooner, and drove
three of their vessels into a bay, where two of
them were sunk, and the other was run asrround
by their crew, who escaped into the woods.
One however was repaired, and brought away
by Loring, who had so far succeeded as to leave
but one schooner remainino; to the French.

General Amherst, after having been wind
bound for several days, reembarked his troops,
and proceeded dovvn the lake. The storm which
had abated, began again with increased violence,
and the batteaux were in danger of being sv^^al-
lou'cd up by the waves. Finding the season for
action was elapsed, and the winter setting in
with severity, the general judged it impractica-
ble to undertake a new expedition v/ithout en-
dangering his army, or running too great a risk
cf not effecting his object. Returning to the
bay in which his troops liad been sheltered dur^
ing the storm, he landed them again, and began
his march to Crown Point, where he arrived on
the twenty first of October,

Having succeeded in gaining possession of
two of the French forts, and securing the com-
mand of tr.e lake, Amherst's attention was now
employed in erecting a new fortress at Crown
Point, and three new outworks for its more ef-.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 4SS

"fectual defence ; in compleating the roads which
had been opened during the summer ; and plan-
ning another from Ticonderoga to Number Four
or Charlesiown on Connecticut river ; his ob*
j ct was. efiectually to secure the advantages
v/hich he had ah'eady obtained ; and to put his
troops i;:: a situation, favorable to the compleat
success of another campaign.*

The expedition to Niagara, had been put
under the command of general Prideaux. This
officer, with the troops assigned for the expedi-
tion, reii^forced by the Indian auxiliaries under
Sir William Johnson, advanced to Niagara with-
out" being molested by the enemy ; and invested
the fort, about the middle of July. The ap-
proaches were carried on with much vigor till
the twentieth of that month, v/hen Prideaux^
Vi53iting the trenches, was unfortunately killed
by the bursting of a cohorn. The co'mmand of
'the army devolving on Sir William Johnson,
he pursued the same vigorous measures, and e-
rected his third battery within one hundred
yards of the flag. V/hile the English were
thus pushing the siege with the greatest vigor,
the enem.y were making preparations to relieve
the place ; and had assembled a body of troops
from Venangs, Detroit, Presquc-Isle, h other set-
tlementsin thai;Guarter,amounLino:to tv/elve hun-
di cd men. These, with a body of Indians un-
der the command of M. d'Anbr)'", were march-
ing to reinforce the garrison at Niagara. John-
SG'A was informed by his Indians that this body
tvas on their march, and he instantly resolved to

* SiBftUst's Hist. England, Vol. 3, p. 47r*

06 iSTATURAL AND CIVIL

intercept them. In the evening of July the
tvvcntjr third, he ordered the light infantry and
piquets to take jDOst on the left, on the road
leading; from the falls of Niagara to the fort. In
the morning', these troops were reinforced with
the grenadiers, and by a part of the forty sixth
regiment, cbmmanded by lieutenant colonel
Massey ; the forty fourth regiment, under lieu-
tenant colonel Farguhar, was posted at the tail
of the works, to support the guard of the tren-
ches ; and the Indians were ordered and en-
couraged to be ready for the contest.

Thus prepared, the English were read}^ for
the battle, and about eight o'clock in the morn-
ing the enemy appeared. The Indians in the
Engli:sh army, advanced to speak to their breth-
ren who were with the French ; but the confer-
ence was declined by the enemy. In a few
minutes the horrible yell, called the War-whoop,
became the signal for slaughter ; and the action
was begun with great impetuosity by the enemy.
But neither the Indian shrieks, nor the French
vivacity could avail ; their troops met with a
hot reception in the fi'ont, and Sir William's
Indians fell furiously on their flanks. The
shock was too violent to be sustained, and in
little more than half an hour their whole army
was routed. Great numbers were slain, their
general and all his officers were taken prisoners,
and the -pursuit was continued for five miles,
through the woods v/ith great slaughter.

The battle was fought in the sight of tlie
French garrison at Niagara, but the gsirrison
was not aware how great a loss the French army
had sustained. As soon as the defeat of th« %M

Hll^t'ORY bt VERMONT. 4S7

i'V^hcii was compleated, general Johnson sent
major Harvey witii a flag to the commanding
officer in the fort, with a list of the prisoners^
requiring him to surrender while he had it yet
an his power to restrain the Indians, and before
iany more blood should be shed. The comman-
ding ofiicer wished to be certain of the event of
the battle, and was permitted to send an officer
to visit the prisoners. Upon his return, the com-
mander agreed to surrender, articles of capitu*
lation were proposed, and in a fev^^ hours the
treaty was ratified and signed ; the whole was
compleated about ten o'clock in the evening of
the same day, on which the battle had beeli
fought. The garrison, consisting of six hun^
dred and seven men, were to be prisoners of
war, and protected against insult and pillage
from the Indians ; the womenj at their own re-
quest, were to be conducted to Montreal ; the
sick and wounded were to be treated with hu-
manity, and sent to their respective corps as sooil
as they were recovered.*

This was the second victory that Sir Wil-
liam Johnson had obtained in the course of this
War. In both he had entirely defeated the ene-
iny, and taken their commanders prisoners. He
himself had not the advantages of a regular mil-
itary education. In his battles, and in what was
more difiic-ult, in the art of governing and man-
aging the Indians, he was most of all indebted
to superior natural sagacity and courage. In
this expedition against Niagara, he had brought
forward eleven hundred Indians of the six na-

t

• Sniollet's Hist. England, Vol. j, p. 4ff,

voi. I, F 3 V

438 NATURAL AND clVlL

tions ; in the battle he had animated their nat«
ural fierceness and impetuosity ; after the sur-
render, 'he cooled and restrained them withiii
the bounds of order and moderation ; in both
cases, l>e knew how to manage the savage tem-
per, and to make it subservient to his own views
and purposes. Like other professional men, the
British generals did not intend to believe tliat
any thing effectual could be done in their pro-
fession, without a regular course of education,
discipline, and experieace. When Amherst re-
ceived intelligence of the death of general Pri-
deaux, he appointed brigadier general Gage to
the command, and sent him on from Crown
JPoint to Niagara. Happily for the colonies,
Gage did not amve, till the superior genius and
sagacity of Johnson had reduced the fort, and
compleated the business of the expedition.

In revietving the operations of this campaign,
it will naturally occur to our minds that the
British minister had discovered sound policy,
and an excellent judgment, in selecthig the gen-
ius and characters of the several commanders,
for the nature of the service which they had to
perform. A general less courageous, active,
enterprising, and animating, than Wolfe, would
not have persevered amidst- all the difficulties
which attended his situation; nor would have
thought of subduing Quebec, when defended by
a superior force, under such a commander as
Montcalm ; nor v/ould have dared to put tlie
event on the risk of a sinp'le battle. Wolfe well

o

knew what^, his troops could perform, and the
event turned out in conformity to his expecta-
tions and wishes. Johnson foresaw how the

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 439

French and Indians would make their attack,
and what would be the consequence of their
J-iuvry and precipitation ; and the spirit he dis-
covered in the execution, was equal to the wis-
dom and precaution of his arrangements. Cool,
resolute, and cautious, Amherst left the enemy
nothing to expect from surprise, or from what
they called a coup du main ; but at the same
time, he made the Indians feel the horror and
vengeance of their favorite system, a warof ex-
teraunation. When the French officers found
that nothing but superior skill or force would
be able to withstand hinij they prudently de-
clined the combat j and to avoid being made
prisoners of war, resigned to him their forts, and
tiie command of lake Chan^plain.

1760. The operations of the last campaign
had been so extensive and successful, that no-
o'.>ject now remained in the northern colonies,
but to compleat the conquest of Canada, by the
reduction of Montreal. In respect to its num-
bers, situation and importance, this was the se-
cond place in Canada. It was built on an island
in the riyer St, Lawrence,, at nearly an equal
distance from Quebec,- and the lake Ontario ;
and was the staple of the Indian trade and resi-
dence of the gcvernor general of the colony.
There M= de Vaudrieul had fixed his head
quarters, and proposed to make his last stand
against the e£'brts of the British generals. He
levied all the forces that could be raised, col-
lected magazines, erected nev/ fortifications, and
availed himself of all the arts and measures that
could be adopted bj^ an able and experienced
soldier and statesman. His hopes, however.

UO NATURAL AND CIVIL

could not be derived from the situation or
strength of the city, but upon the natural strength
of tlie country ; the woods, mountains, waters,
defiles and morasses, that the British generals
must have to pass, before they could bring their
armies around the city. These, he hoped,
?niglit retard the progress of the lingiish armies,
or protract tlie war till a general peace should
be made, or some favorable event enable the
French to afibrd relief to the colony. That
nothing might be wanted to animate and allure
the inhabitants to make a general and desparate
struggle to save the countr}'-, he addressed a cir-
cular letter to all the officers of the militia, in
this style :

Mojitrealy Jime S, 1760,
" Sir,

' THE chevalier de Levy is just returned
' to this tovv^n ; he has repeated to me the strong

* testimony wliich he had before given me, of

* the good will, the zeal, and ardour of your

* company of militia.

' I expected no less fiom the fidelity of tlic

* brave Canadians, and from their attachment

* to their native countrj.

'His majesty, who is by this time, probab-

* ly informed of your bnlliant victory, wiii be

* no less pleased with this, than affected with
' the distresses of the colony ; so that suppo-

* sing that peace has not been concluded, on

* the receipt of this news, the king of Kngland

* canriot possibly avoid subscribing such terms

* as our monarch shall have imposed upon him.

* You are not uninformed of the great ad-
^ vantages which he gained in Europe during

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 441

* the last campiugn over the English and Prus-
< sians.

* The prisoners which are bringing in every

* moment, all agree In confirming them.

* The truth is,' his majesty is in person in

* Holland Avith an armj oi' 200,000 men, the

* prince of Conti in Germany with 100,000, and

* the princes of Dcux-Ponts, and Soubise,

* command the army of the empire of 200,000 ;

* and lastly, tlie empress of Russia, and the

* queen of Hungary, have joined their wliole
^ force, and were taking measiac:> for the con-

* quest of the remainder of his Prussian majcs-

* ty's dominions.

* Besides this, the last accounts assure us,

* that the garrisons of forts Frederic, Niagara,

* and Chonugan, have suficred greatly by a sick-

* ness, which is net yet stopped, and that the

* regular troops in New England arc reduced

* to nothinc*.

* General Murray, therefore, has disper-

* sed manifestoes to no purpose, to magnify his

* own nation, to pacify the Canadians, to engage

* them to lay down their arms, to discredit our

* bills of exchange, and our currency, at- th©

* same time that the English traders arc eager-
' to procure them, because they have been re-.

* guiarly paid.

* You see, sir, that the colonv is drawing to

* the end of its hardships and distresses, and that

* it is upon the point of seeing plenty succeed,

* to scarcity.

* If the English make any attempt, it cai\
< have no other object than the ambition of their

* geaerab ; v/e are thoroughly prepared to re^.

442 NATURAL AND CIVIL

? pulse them with spirit; we have a train of

* artillery, besides that which we took from the

* enemy ; a still greater proportion of powder,

* ball, and ammunition, for the operations which

* I have pjrojected ; we have also provisions

* enough, by means of the resources which we

* shall find in the g;ood will of the Canadians,

* who have the greatest interest in the preserva-

* tion of their religion and libert}^. The king's
*■ troops will even live, if necessary, upon rootsr,

* v/hcn thev cannot do better, and will not fail
'^ to join their endeavors to those of tlije brave

* Canadians.

* My intention then is, that you and all your

* militia, should hold yourselves ready to march
■ with arms, baggage and eight days provisions

* to our frontiers, when the case shall require ir.

* I believe Iisiay venture to assure you, that

* these will be the last dispositions which I shall

* have occasion to make for the defence of this

* colony ; being firmly convinced, that, some

* time in August, at least, we shall have peace,

* pro^ isions, and, in general, whatever we want.
^ I am, &c.

* P. S. You will assemble the militia of your
^- company, and read this letter to them. You
<^ will- carefully inspect their arms. If any of

* them are out of order you will give them a
'note, and the king's gun smith's will repair
' them immediately."^

While the marquis de Vaudrieul was thus
struggling between despair, hope, and endeav-
or, general Amherst was conceiting and execut-

* S»:olI«t'« Hist. Eii^lanii, V*l. 3, p. 4I.

HISTORY OF VEn^TONT. 4^5

Ing measures, to bring; all the British armies in
Atnerica, to act in concert against Montreal.
He had sent instructions to general Mun-a}-, at
Quebec, directing him as soon as the season
would permit, to advance wp the river St. Law-
rence by watfr, towards Montreal, with all the
troops that could be spared from the garrison of
Quebec. He appointed colonel Haviland to
command a body of troops, which were to pro-
ceed from Crown Point, through lake Cham-
plain, to take possession of the Isle Aux Noix ;
and from thence they were to advance by the
shortest practicable route, to the banks of the
river St. Lawrence. For himself he proposed
to go with the main body of his army by the
way of the Mohav/k, and Onondago rivers, to
lake Ontario ; to embark his troops at Oswego,
sail over the lake, and down the, river St. Liw-
rence, to the island of Montreal. B v this plan,
he proposed to bring all his troops against that
place, and to inclose and surround the enemy
on that island.

The plaa of military operations being set-
tled, the commanders, as early as the season,
would allow, set themselves to carry into exe-
cution the part that was assigned to them. Gen^
eral. Amherst had procured two armed schoon-
ers to cruise on lake Ontario, under the com-
mand of captain Loring ; and a great number of
batteaux, and other small vessels were provided
for the transportation of the troops, artillery ,.
ammunition, provisions, and baggage. Several
regiments were ordered to proceed from Albany
to Oswego ; and the general himself marched
from Schenectady, with the rest of iiis troops m

lU NATUftAL AND CIVIL

the latter end of Jane, and arrived at Oswego
on the ninth of July.

The army being assemblecj, amounted to a-
bout ten thousand men ; and they were joined
by a considerable body of Indians under the
direction of Sir William Johnson. Colonel
Haldimand) with the light Infantry, the Grena-i
diers, and one battalion of Highlanders, was de-
tached to take post at the eastern part of the
lake, and assist the armed vessels in finding a
passage to la Galette. On the tenth of August
the whole army embarked on board the battcaux
and whale boats, and proceeded along the lake
towards the oi igin ai the river St. Lawrence.
UaderstanrJing there was nothing to fear from
the enemy's vessels; the general resolved to
proceed down th.e river to Swegatlicie, and at-
tack the French fort at Isle Royalc ; a post
which in a great measure commanded the pas-
sage by water, either from or to lake Ontario.
On the seventeenth, the row galiies fell in with
the French sloops commanded by M. de la Bro-
querie ; which were forced to surrender, after
a warm contest. Amherst now prepared to in-
vest the fortress at Isle Royaie. Batteries were
raised on the adjacent islands, and the fort was
cannonaded also by the armed sloops ; in one
of those islands, some scalps were found which
the inhabitants had taken fi*om some of th^
Mohawks, whom they had slain : The Indians
were so infianled at the sight, that they burned \
their chapel, and ail their houses. \

Pbeparatioj^s being made for a general

\ assault, the commander, M. Pouchant found it

feiost prudent to beat a parley, and surrender ca

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 445

eapitulation. With the capture of this fort the
t)|:posiiion of the enemy ceased, but thcDaviga-
tioa became extremely difficult and dangerous.
Tlie river abounded with a great number of
rapids and falls, which could not be avoided.
Great care was taken to guard against the dan-
gers of the passage ; but notwithstanding all the
vigilance and exertions of the officers and men,
the army suffered much in this part of their
voyage. Forty six batteaux, seventeen whale-
boats, one row-galley, some of their artillery,
ammunition, and stores, with above eighty men
were lost on the passage. This dangerous ser-
vice being effected, the army met v/ith no fur-
ther difficulty, but landed on the island of Mon-
treal, September the sixth, without any opposi-
tion from the enem.y, except some random shots
from some of the flying parties, W'ho instantly
disappeared.

While general Amherst had been thus en-
gaged in prepai'ing for the expedition, and com-
ing dov/ii from lake Ontario, general Murray
had not been less active at Quebec, and on the
river St. Lawrence. During the winter he neg-
lected no measure that could be taken to pre-
serve Quebec and to subdue the adjacent parts
of the country, and many of the inhabitants ac-.
tually took the oath of allegiance to the king of
Great Britain. The garrison however withiri
the walls of Quebec suffered much from the
extreme cold of the winter, the want of fresh
provisions, and the scurvy ; before the end of
April, one thousand of the soldiers were dead,
and double that number were unfit for service.
The chevalier de Lev}^, on whom the commaocl
VOL. I G 3

446 NATURAL AND CIVIL

of the French troops had devolved by die deattl
of Montchlm, was encouraged to hope from the
state of the British garrison that Quebec might
be reduced by siege before a British fleet could
nrrive with succours in the spring. For this
purpose he collected all the regular troops, Ca-
nadiiais and Indians that he could assemble ;
^nd formed an army of more than twelve thou-
sand men. With this force he advanced to
lay siege to Quebec in the latter end of A-
pril. Murray confiding in the bravery & discip-
line of his troops, meant to confound &: disperse
them by the boldness & vigor of his measures.
On the twenty eighth of April, at half an hour
after six in the morning, he thre^v open the
gates of Quebec, and marched out with his lit-
tle army of three thousand men to give battle
to the enemy. A severe conflict took place, and
an obstinate battle was kept up for an hour and
three quarters.- At length the British were o-
verpowered bj numbers, and obliged to quit
the field with the loss of a thousand men killed
or wounded. The French lost a much greater
number, but remained masters of the field of
battle.

Murray retreated with his troops within the
"Walls of Quebec ; and neither dismayed by the
loss of the battle, or discouraged with the weak-
ness of his own situation, made a vigorous de-
fence and determined at every risk and hazard
to hold out till succours should arrive. The
enemy did not omit to avail themselves of the
advantage of the battle, and the same evening
opened their trenches against the place. For
^several days they camionaded the city widi great

HISTORY OF VERMONT. UT

vivncity, but their nrtillery was not equal to that
O) th(^ garrison. On the ninth of May a Brit-
ish shi: , commanded by captain Deane entered
t'le hdibuur of Quebec, and announced the joy-
fi.i news that a British squadron was in the riv-
e:. On the fifteenth of Ivldy, commodore Swan-
ton arrived, iind in the evening ancliored above
point Levy. Early the next morning two of his
vessels slipped their cables to attack the fleet
which the French had collected. They were
no sooner in motion than the French ships fled
in the utmost disorder. One of their frigates
was driven on the rocks, another ran on shore
and w*s burned, and ail their other vessels were
t&ken or destroyed. So confounded and dis-
pirited were the enemy by this disaster, and the
dread of an approaching ficet, that in the fol-
lov/ing niglit they raised the siege of Quebec,
and retreated v.ith great precipitation, leaving
tJieir provisions, implements, and artillery. The
next morning, Murray marched out, but found
the enemy had lied ; and nothing left for him
but to take possession of their tents, stores, mag^
azines of provision, ammunition, and artillery.

Ths affairs of Quebec being settled, and a
proper garrison assigned for its protection,- Mur-
ray prepared to advance up the river to' Mon-
treal. The troops vvcre embarked at Quebec,
on board a great number of small vessels; cap-
tain Deane in the Diana, undertook the com-
mand and the hazard of conducting them up
the river. This officer with uncommon abili-
ties and attention surmounted all the difficulties
and hardships of an unknown, perplexed, and
(dangerous navigation ; and such was his atten-

us NATURAL AND CIVIL

tion and vigilance that not a vessel was lost ir^
conducting a numerous fleet, one hundred and
eighty miies through an enemy's country, and
against a rapid stream, where no English vessel
had ever been before. General Murray while
advancing up the river, every where published
manifestoes, inviting the Canadians to submis-
sion, and promising them protection under the
British government. These proclamations hud
great effect.. Almost all the parishes on the
south shore, as far as the river Sorel, made their
submissions, and took the oath of neutrality •
one village opposed him with arms, and that by
way of example and terror he set on fire. On
the north shore, lord Rollo disarmed the inhabi-
tants as far as Trois Rivieres, and took posses-
sion of that village without opposition. M. de
Levy was all the time watching the motions of
general Murray, and waiting for an opportuni-
ty to attack him with success ; but the time-
for such enterprises ^Vas past, the people were
every where submitting to the British general,
and were not disposed to venture on hostilities.
Thus fortunate and successful in every part of
the business, IMnrray arrived safe with &sQ troops
under his command, ar>d landed on the east {.art
of the island of Morttreal, the day after Am-
herst had landed on the west.

The army that v/as to proceed to Montreal
by the way of lake Clii^mplain, was put under
the command of colonel Haviland. To facili-
tate the operations of the war, Amherst had di-
rected that a road should be opened from Num-
ber Four on Connecticut river, across the Green
Mountains to Crown Point. This sci vice was

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 449

performed by a New Hampshire regiment, un-
cler the commLind of colonel Goife. They be^
gan their road at Wentvvorth-s ferry, two miles
above the fort at Charlestown ; cut down the
trees and made bridges, till their road extended
twenty six miles. At that place, they found a
path, in which they proceeded to Otter Creek ;
from whence they found a good road which lead
to Crown Point. In this work they made such
dispatch, as to join the army at that place on
July the thirty first, and broui^ht with them a
drove of cattle for the supply of the army.* On
Au£<ust the twelfth, Haviland embarked his
troops in batteaux and v^'haleboats, and sailed
down lake Champlain. He met with no oppo-
, sition from the enemy till he arrived at the Isle
Aux Noix. Tliis place, had been strongly for-
tified, and made some appearance of opposition ;
some skirtp.ishes took place, and a lew were
slain on both sides ; but the enemy were too
weak and too much dispirited to make a fcrmi-
dable opposition. The post was soon deserted,
and the forts at St. John's and Chambly became
an easy conquest. IMeeting with no further op-
position, the troops passed on ; and the day af-
ter Murray had effected his landing, Haviland
appeared with his army on the south side of the
river St. Lawrence, directly opposite to Mon-.
treal. These events and circumstances appear-.
ed highly favorable and unexpected. The three
armies pursuing different routes, and unacquain=.
ted with each other's progress, passed through.
^ long and dangerous tract in the enemy's coun-.
try, and arrived at the capital within two days.
of each other.

*' Belknap's Hist. New Hampshire, Vol, 3, p. 30J.

450 NATURAL AND CIVIL

No THINS now remained for M. de Vau-
drieiil, but to make the best terms he could for
the colony. General Amherst, on the day ia
which he arrived, formed his army in a plain
before Montreal, where his troops lay all night
upon their arms ; and was proceeding to bring
on his artillery, and lay sieg-e to the city. On
tlie morninjj of the seventh, he received a flag
and letter from Vaudricul, vrho sent two ofricers
demanding a capitulation. Amheist stated the
terms which he would grant, r.nd which he sig-
nified that he should not alter. Some letters
passed upon the subject, but Vaudiieui could
do no otherwise than to submit to" the terms
dictated by the British general. They were
however favorable to the French colony. The
trooDS surrendered orisoners, and ^^ere not to
serve against the English or their allies duriiig
the vrar. The whole country of Canada was to
be surrendered to the king of Great Britain ;
and the inhabitants were to be protected in their
estates and religion.

Thus was compleated the conqr:est of Cana-
da, September the cip:hth, 17C0, in llie sixth
Year of the war, and alter the most severe struy-
gles. During the contest, six battles had hten
fought, the fortune of which was equally divi-
ded. The first of tl:ese was at the meadows,
near fort Du Queswe, in which Braddock was
fclain, and the French successful. The next was
at lake George, where Diebkau was defeated
and captured,, and Johnson gained the victorj-.
The third was at Ticonderoga, in which Aber-
crombie was defeated, and Montcalm gained the
advant.^ge. }n ti:e fourth.^ at Niagara, th^e-

HISTORY OF VERjMONT. 451

French were subdued, and Johnson gained a
conipleat victory and conquest. In the fiflh,
at Quebec, Wolfe and Montcahii the greatest
generyls that had appeared in America, both
fell ; but victory and conquest were on the side
of the British. The iixth was at Sillery, Mur-
ray Vv'as defeated, and M. de Levy gained the
battle. The British nation and colonies for
more than seventy years, had been aiming to
accomplish the business, but without success.
A large country was now added to the British
dominions, and an end put to the depredations
and ravages of the Indian tribes. The grand
contest for v/hich the war was begun, appeared
to be decided ; and the future prospects of the
colonies bore the aspect of tranquility, prosperi-
ty, rapid increase, and improvement. All these
hopes and prospects seemed to be confirmed
and complcated by the treaty of peace signed at
Paris, February the tenth, 1763. By this treaty,
the king of 'France ceded and granted to the
British king in full right, the whole country of
Canada, with all its dependencies, in the most
ample manner and form. All that the British
colonies could wish respecting Canada, was now
obtained ; and the time was come, in which it
might reasonably be expected, that all their fu-
ture exertions would be employed for the im-
provement and prosperity of their country.

■>■>*.,

452 NATURAL AND CIVIL

IN reviewing' this system, of colonial warj
hot only its militaiy operations, but its originj
moral and political tendency and effect, are also
worthy our attention and remark;

The Origin of these wars will easily be
found in the different interests, feelings, and
passions of men. The Europeans who made
tlie first settlements in America, were from dif-
ferent parts of the European continent ; from
Spain, Portuf^al, England, France, Holland and
Sweden. They brought with them the opin-
ions, customs and habits, of the governments
and churches to which they had been accustom-
ed, and were more or less influenced by particu-
lar moral considerations, and local circumstan-
ces. These ^vere greatly different ; but in one
view and design, they were all agreed- They
all meant to obtain possession of the different
parts of the American continent, to which they
removed ; and to make a firm and permanent
settlement on the lands, of which they took pos-
session. The Indians, unacquainted with the
European character, and too ignorant and cred-
ulous to suspect unfriendly or mischievous de-
signs in tkeir new visitors, every where received
them with the tokens of unfeigned hospitality
and joy ; and viewed them as a race of beings^
far superior to themselves. The Europeans a-
vailed themselves of their superior knowledge
in all the arts, commerce and business of life ;
and of the native simplicity and ignorance of
the orifirinal inhabitants. Bv a careful attention
to the Indian temper, character, and state, they
engaged their confidence, procured their friend-
shin, and obtained their consent to settle on

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 458

^eir lands. It was not till after a period of
years had taken place, that the natives discerned
the policVj and became jealous of the increasing
power and numbers of the European settlers.
With this jealousy the savage temper became
sullen, gloomy, suspicious and resentful. Con-
troversies took place, mutual provocations, com-
plaints and injuries succeeded ; and the Euro-
peans were every year advancing, and forming
new settlements ia the Indian country. Dis-
putes about property and encroachment ensued ;
and these had the same effect in the colonies that
they have in every other part of the globe, they
gradually Jbut unavoidably resolved themselves
into an appeal to force ; and when once hostili-
ties and slaughter began, war would assume all
the barbarity and cruelty that was inseparable
from the Indian passions, customs and habits.
The result was everj'- where the same ; sooner
or later war broke out between the Indians and
the Europeans who were settling and taking
possession of their country.

In addition to the wars that arose from this
cause, there was another equally certain and un-
avoidable, the seat of which lay in Europe.
The different interests, the mutual hatred,, the
perpetual pride and ambition of the European
monarchs, kept their kingdoms in constant con-
tention and war ; and these wars, by the decrees
of their sovereigns, always followed their sub-
jects into the new world, and became one of
their heaviest calamities and curses. Whenever
the kings of England or France supposed it
would be for their interest to involve their king-
doms in blood and slaughter^, theii' colonies in
VOL. I H 3

454 NATURAL AND CIVIL

every part of the world were required to join in
the folly and madness of their sovereigns ; and
to plunge themselves into all the calamities and
miseries of their bloody contests. In both these
causes there were perpetual sources of war in
the colonies ; and there was no rational ground
to expect that they could be avoided, while the
colonies were extending their settlements into
the Indian country ; or while they remained
connected with the Europeaa sovereigns or
powers.

Among the dangerous consequences of these
Wars, the moral effect was greatly unfavor-
able, and corrupting to the human mind : They
operated with a certain and constant tendency
to destroy the moral virtues of humanity, can-
dor, and benevolence ; and to produce the spir-
it of bigotry, intolerance, revenge and mutual
hatred. It was not possible for the men that
were constantly endeavouring to injure and de-
stroy, to love and do good to one another ; in-
stead of this, they were constantly learning to
hate and to abhor each other. The spirit of in-
tolerance and bigotry seems to be unavoidably
connected with ignorance, and to be incurable
by any thing but science and philosophy. Thi*
raving, fiery spirit of the partisans, derived new
force and inflammation from the perpetual wars
in which the colonies were engaged. The peo-
ple in the French colonies were trained up to
believe that they belonged to a monarch and
to a church, which were absolutely infallible ;
the different sects and parties in the Englisii
colonies did as firmly believe, that they them-
selves were never in the wrong. To Carry

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 4S5

their political and theological prejudices and ha-
tred to the highest degree* nothing was wanted
but the cruelties and barbarities of an Indian
war. Both parties very justly reproached each
other, for the inhumanity and wickedness of
their proceedings ; and they well knew that the
Indians in one part of the country, were under
the management of the French ; and in anoth-
er, under the direction of the English. Policy
and disguise would of course avail themselves
of all the help and assistance that could be deri-
ved from the pretence or abuse of religion, to
represent the opposite party as faithless, corrupt,
heretical, opposers of God, and all that was
good.

To carry this scene of mutual hatred, bigotry
and abuse, to its greatest height and extent, time
and experience had shown that the surest way
was to put it under the management of a set of
intolerant priests, genus irritabile vatum^ and
to them, the politicl leaders looked to aiford a
powerful assistance, by representing their ene-
mies, under an odious and awful character. In
these exploits the English and the French seem
to have been very successful in destroying the
spirit of candor, charity, aiid benevolence ; and
in promoting that of mutual aversion, extreme
bigotry, and intolerant hatred.

While the moral tendency was thus unfor-
tunate and corrupting, the effect of continued
war on the literary and scientific character and
pursuits of the colonicsy was equally unfavora- »
ble and degrading. It was the peculiar felicity
of the first settlers of the English colonies that
ther were descended fronx the most enlightened

456 NATURAL AND CIVIL

part of Europe, and at a time when considera-
ble advances had been made in the arts and
sciences. The clergy, and several of the leading
men that came over with the English, when
they made their first settlements, had been ed-
ucated at the universities of Cambridge or Ox-
ford. They were well acquainted with classi-
cal literature, had been instructed in the phi-,
losophy of that day, and Avere eminent for their
knowledge in the theological debates and con-
troversies that agitated the English nation at
that time. Disgusted with the English hierar-
chy, and viewing with horror the arbitrary pro-
ceedings of Charles the first, and his archbish-
op Laud, they removed into America, to be
©ut of the reach of prelatical power and perse-
cution. Widiout a preconcerted plan of eccle^
siastical power or policy, they adopted such a
method of ecclesiastical proceedings, as utility,
tin^e, and circumstances suggested. Happily
for themselves and for their posterity, nature
and Christianity led them to adopt one, that
Avas equally favorable to the interests of moral-
ity and religion ; and to the rights and liber-
ties of mankind.

Justly pleased with the form, in which the
christian cliurch appeared in the new world,
and apprehc nsive of the important consequen-
ces it might have on society, they wished to
give to the church and to the country, all the
advantages that niight be derived from the in-
fluence of th': arts and sciences. So early as
the year 1C38, they began the foundation of a
College at Cambridge ; and were warnily en,
gaged in making provision to educate their youth

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 457

in useful knowledge and to supply their chur-
ches with well educated and learned ministers.
In 1700,the colon}- of Connecticut followed the
example of Massachusetts, and founded a sem-
inary now called Yale College. Both these so-
cieties received much assistance from the civil
government, and were warmly supported and
encouraged by the clergy. And it was from
them, that almost all the acquaintance which the:
country had with the arts and sciences, was de-
rived. To increase the influence and impor-
tance of these colleges, and to preserve a deco-
rum and uniformity in their churches, their
ministers wisely established a rule to discour-
jige the application of those to the ministry,
who had not received an education at their own
or at some other Colleg-e.

Thus educated in the best manner the state?
of the country would admit, the order of cler-
gy appeared to advantage in the colonies. A-
mong the doctrines v.hich had divided the chris-
tian world, they had almost universally embra-
ced the opinions of Calvin ; but were not de-
ficient in inculcating the duties of morality, and
the maxims of practical virtue. In respect to
their learning, piety, gravity, and regularity of
conduct, this order of men were highly esteem-
ed by their country ; and several of them were
eminent as writers, and popular preachers.
With more strength and criginalit}' of genius
than any former metaphysician, Edwards had
gone further than any other man, to give deci-
sion and certaint}'- to metaphysiciil theory and
reasoning. In treating on the ancient contro^
vcrsies respecting, f^tc and freewill, upne of the

458 NATURAL AND CIVIL

metaplwsical writers had discovered so much
ingeiiuit}' and acumen. But like all the rest,
while labouring to establish the doctrine of fate,
necessity, and liberty, he clearly proved that nei-
ther the calvinistic, nor the arminian theory, nor
tlie metaphysical way of reasoning, ever could ex-
plain or clear up the subject; and that the con-
necting truths or principles, which would serve
to show the consistency between the unaltera-
ble councils and decrees of heaven, and the
free agency and accountability of men, were not
to be found in any of the metaphysical systems,
that had yet been announced to the world ;
and that no such theory or system ever could
explain, or be applied to the powers or actions
of animals.

Others of the clerijv had wrote to srreat ad-
vantage in the controversies with the church of
England, and on the doctrines and claims of
the church of Rome. But the country had not
yet been agitated by any controversies respect-
ing the trinity, the incarnation, the atonement,
the necessity, evidence or reality of miracles,
prophecy, or revelation, and perhaps no order
of clergy ever were more useful to mankind,
than those who had directed the religious affairs
of the colonies at this peiiod.

In the courts of law, the business "was as well
done, and justice was as impartially administer-
ed, as in any part of Europe. The common
law of England was the rule of proceeding, and
happily for the country, neither the provincial
governments, the judges, or the lawyers had at-
tempted to alter or to improve it. What rela-
ted to the local circumstances of the colonies

HISTORY OI VERMONT. 45f \

was regulated by provincial laws ; and these the
colonies were much better qualified to deter- !

mine, than any European kings or parliaments. i

The ludicrous absurdities which the system of ^

monarchy had introduced into the English sta-
tutes, did not apply to the practical course of <
events or of business in the colonies ; and their !
courts had no occasion to compute on the cor-
ruption of blood, the respectability of an infa*
mous nobleman, or the sacredness of royal vice
or folly. Most of their lawyers were men of a ]
liberal education ; and several of them were )
among the most respectable and useful men m
the country. But the time was not come to at- \
tempt to improve the law or the profession. No ;
books of reports, no treatises on law or evidence,
or any thing appropriate to a colonial system of
law or practice had appeared ; all was in sub- ;
jection to British precedents and to British im- •
portance* I

The medical part of science and the branches
more immediately connected with it, had as yet
only bore a practical aspect. The physicians i

were as useful and practised with as much suc-
cess in the colonies, as in any part of the globe, !
and no where did the people enjoy more health ; i
but their knowledge and success was much j
more the result of observation and practice, than •
of theory or system. No medical schools or ;
professorships, no regular courses of surgery^ ■,
chemistry, or clinical instruction, had at that ]
time been instituted in the colonies ; and scarce- ' i
ly any thing had been done in the materia me- ,
dica, in botany or in the collections of natural \
history. One important discovery was iutrodu- ^

460 NATURAL AND CIVIL

eed in the colonics as early as it was in Great
Britain. Dr. Cotton Mather, of Boston, had
observed in the philosophical transactions, an
account of the manner in which inoculation for
the small pox was practised in the Turkish do-
minions. At his recommendation, Dr. Boylston,
one of the physicians at Boston, introduced it at
that place, in the year 1721. It met with suc-
cess ; and with the opposition, which is always
to be expected, when a new method of practice
is introduced. But although it exposed the first
promoters of it to a considerable share of pro-
fessional and popular resentment, it vv^as eventu-
ally attended with much success, and almost
universally adopted.

There was an accuracy and a minuteness in
the historical productions of the country, which
marked the feelings, pursuits and views of the
colonics with much precision ; but the transac-
tions of which they treated, appeared too local
and too small, to engage the attention of the
world. Hubbard wrote a very accurate and
useful histor)^ of the Indian Wars in New Eng-
land. Moretun MTOte a Pvlemorial, which was
of use to preserve the memory of the first set-
tlers and their proceedings. But the most that
was done this way, was by Di\ Cotton Mather^
of Boston. With a singular genius, with much
of the Hebrew literature, and a warm imagina-
tion, in a book to which he gave the title of
Magnalia Christi Americana, he wrote minute
and lengthy accounts of all the ecclesiastical,
historical and literary proceedings of tlie country
till the year 1692. Penhallow, at Portsmouth,
gave an account of the Indian Wars ; and Doug-

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 46i

^«, at Boston,, wrote a historical and political
summary of the affairs of the colonies to the
year 1750. In Virginia, Stith aixi Beverly pub-
lished histories of that colony to the year 1700.
In New York, Colden wrote the. history of the
five nations of Indians, in 1747 ; and in 1756,
§mith published a history of the province to the
year 1732. Iw these productions there were
authentic and useful records of the early pro»
ceedings of some of the colonies. They were
viewed in Europe as too small matters to engage
the public attention ; and it was not suspected
by her historians, that the American writers
were describing principles and proceedings, fronl
whence the greatest of all human empires was
destined to arise.

Speculative science was n ot much wanted,
and had not been much cultivated in the coun-
try. In mathematics no attempts had been
inadc to cultivate the higher branches ; what
was necessary and applicable to the affairs and!
business of life, was generally, and well under-
stood. In natural philosophy the prospect and
attention was more engaging. In the beginning
of the eighteenth century, Keil had introduced
in England, the experimental method of teach-
ing this science. Desaguliers had greatly im-
proved the plan, and taught it systematically in
a regular course of experimental lectures, Isaac
Greenwood, a young gentleman of Boston, edu-
cated at Harvard College, had been in London,
attended Desagulier's lectures, and had beeri his
assistant in the business. Mr. Hollis, of London,
in the year 1726, established a professorship of
matliematics and natural philosophy in Harvard

VOL, X \ ^

462 NATURAL AND CIVIL

College, purchased an apparatus. and sent Green^
wood as his professor to Cambridge. Green-
wood of course introduced the business at Har-
vard College, in the advanced state the science
had assumed at London. A taste for this sci-
ence being thus introduced, it became the fa-
vorite study of the young gentlemen who were
under a course of education ; but as no indivi-
dual had any philosophical instruments, it was
seldom pursued any further than a course of aca-
demical education had carried it. In astronomy
the attention had been carried a little higher.
In 1694, Brattle began to make some astronomi-
cal observations at Cambridge. Robie pursued
the same business, and Winthrop was attentive
and accurate in observing the celestial phenome-
ria. Godfrey, at Philadelphia, b}^ the strength
of an untaught genius, discovered the sextant,
which now bears the name of Hadley. The
observations and the names of these gentlemen,
appear to advantage in the transactions of the
Royal Society of London.

In natural history some useful observations
and aocounts had been published relative to the
weather, climate, vegetables and animals, in
Carolina, Virginia, Pennsylvania, New York
and Massachusetts ; some of them were by na-
tives of the colonies, but the most by persons
who came from Europe to reside in the coun-
try. Classical knowledge was taught with repu-
tation and success in the Colleges, and by the
grammar schools. All the men of education
had been instructed and were acquainted with
tKe works of some of the most eminent orators
and poets of antiquity. Colleges had been

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 463

founded at Cambridge, New Haven, Williams-
burg, Princeton, Philadelphia and New York.
But the genius of the country had not been em-
ployed in attempting any considerable produc-
tions in poetry, oratory, or the fine arts. In
one article however, the New England colonies
exceeded the customs and attainments of Eu-
rope : In every considerable town they had a
grammar school, and all the children were
taught to read, write, and go through the com-
mon rules of arithmetic ; and nothing was more
uncommon or disreputable, than to be unac-
quainted with these arts. This was the knowl-
edge the colonies most of all needed, and this
they had made universal ; much further they
could scarcely expect to go, while destruction
was every where around them. War, French
and Indian war and ravages, engaged the atten-
tion of the whole country ; exhausted her finan-
ces, and required her constant attention and ex-
ertion. And while this was the case, neither the
resources, the attention, or the genius of the
country, could be much applied to the pursuit
or cultivation of science. The men who sat
down to contemplate such matters, v/ould have
their attention forced to other subjects ; they
must fly, or like Archimedes be slain over their
problems ; and in almost every process they

might say of their country, multo spuman-

tem sanguine ccrno.

The same cause that thus proved unfriendly
to morals and science, was also greatly injuri-
ous to tht population of the country. In the
English colonies it was found from the registers
of life and death which had been kept in some

464, STATURAL AND CIVIL

of their oldest towns, that the number of years
in which the inhabitants by their naitural increas^
would double their numbers, did not amount to
more than twenty four, or at most twenty five
years. Such observations lead to the most flat-
tering calculations, respecting the future popu-
lation and number of the people ; but in most
of the colonies, these calculations entirely failed.
In none of the provinces were the people more
industrious, sober, or agricultural, than in Mas-
sachusetts and New Hampshire. In the year
1713, it was found that there was not double the
number of people in Massachusetts to what
there was in 1675. The same was found to be
the case in 1762 ; at that time the number of
inhabitants had not doubled from the year
1722.* The same observation applied with still
greater force to New Hampshire. The cause
could not be found in emigration ; nor did it
arise from any uncommon mortality or sickness.
Nothing of this nature had taken place in cither
of those provinces, except the losses occasioned
among the children by the disorder called the
throat distemper, in 1735 and 1736 ; and this
was local, and of a short duration. The cause
was in the constant state of war, in which those
provinces were involved. From 1675, when
the Indian war under Philip first began, to 1713,
five Or six thousand of the youth of the country
perished by the enemy, or by sickness con-
tracted in the service. From that time to the
conquest of Canada, there were constant calls
TQpon the young men to engage either in offen-

iSive or defensive service. The numbers that

f- . . . • .

* Hntcbinson's Hist. Matsachasctts, Vol. a, p. l8j.

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 465

perished in these services were unavoidably great.
If we may judge from the course of things in
the colonies, nine out of ten of these young meri
>vould have been fathers of families. Cut off
and wasted away by an incessant scene of war,
the population of the whole country was checked
and prevented. At the end of fifty years, for
every young man slain in the wars the loss oc-
casioned to the country was nearly four inhabi-
tants ; so many more would probably have been
found in the country at the end of that period,
had the colonies remained in a state of peace
and tranquility.

On the agriculture^ the settlement and culti-
vation of the country, the eifect of war was still
more pernicious. The most important of all
pursuits to the colonies, was the settlement of
their country. On this depended their defence,
their strength and their lexistence. In the most
peaceable and quiet times, this was a matter of
much difficulty, hardship, labor and suffering.
To collect together a company qualified and
disposed for such enterprise ; to quit the ease
and enjoyments of domestic peace and abun-
dance ; to carry their families through the woods,
mountains, rivers and swamps, where there was
no road or track ; to construct huts of logs and
the bark of trees, to cut down the woods and
open the lands to the influence of the sun and
the air ; to fence, sow, reap and gather tlieir
crops ; this was the beginning of the scene, and
a series of difficulties which must in some meas-
ure be gone through the first year of their re-
moval. They had then to watch and guard the ir
©attle and their crops against the ravages of ilici

466 NATURAL AND CIVIL

beai's, wolves and other ferocious animals, with
which the country every wherp abounded ; and
at the same time to raise their provisions and
make their raiment. In the best possible state
of thijig-s this was a scene of hard living, of hard
labor and great suffering ; and it was not in a
less period than five or six years, that the new
settlers could procure tlie necessaries of life in
such quantities as to be comfortable ; or in any
considerable degree to be free from the danger
and suffering of hunger and nakedness.

Against these difficulties however, they
•truggled with success, and in a few years found
their circumstances more comfortable and en-
couraging. But when a war broke out, their
dangers and their sufferings often seemed to be
without measure, and without end. An attack
was suddenly made upon one of their scttle-
inents, when the inhabitants were unprepared
fon defence, and without suspicion of danger.
The first notice of the approach of an enemy,
would be about break of dav : the Indians would
assault every house at the same time, slay slicIi
of the inhabitants as made any resistance, lead
the others av/ay prisoners, burn the houses and
buildings, and slaughter all their cattle. In this
way, several of the plantations were destroyed,
rebuilt, destroyed again and then resettled.
These vere scenes to which every part of the
frontiers were exposed, at the breaking out of
every war. The effect was, the most advanced
settlements were broken up every war ; the in-
habitants returned to the old towns, and all that
tlieir labor and sufferings had procured for many
years, was often sv/ept avv'ay in one day. It was

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 46t

impossible that the settlement of the country
should proceed with its natural progress, in such
a state of things. And hence the colonies were
obliged to adopt u debilitating caution, reserve,
and slowness, in making their advances, and
extending their settlements into the country.

In the year 1752, a proposal was made to ef-
fect a settlement on the rich lands at Coos, on
Connecticut river. It was proposed to lay out
one township on the east side, and another on
the west, at the place now called Newbury, in
Vermoiit. The governors of Massachusetts
and New Hampshire approved of the proceed-
ings, and a large number of persons engaged in
the enterprise, A. party of men were sent up
the river in the spring, to view the lands, and
lay out t)ie proposed townships. Some of the
Indians of the St. Francois tribe observed their
motions, suspected their design, and forbade
their proceedings ; at the same time they sent
a message to the commander of the fort at Num-
ber Four, informing him that they would not
suffer the English to settle at Coos. The In-
dian mandate \v<{-6 communicated to the gover-
nors of the two English provinces, and such was
their fear of the Indians, that they meekly and
quietly 1 lid aside the whole business. To such
mortifying disi^^race and caution, was the agri-
culture, the settlement and the cultivation of the
country, constantly subject. And yet on these,
the safety, the wealth, stiength, population, and
commerce of the whole country depended. Of
ail objects this was the most important, to the
colonies ; and the men, who in that state of
things settled a new town, did more importajit

468 NATURAL AND CIVIL

services lo their country and to mankind, than
those who amused all Europe with an astronomi-
cal observation, a physical eixperiment, solved A
new problem, or wrote an elegant poem, or a
celtbnited volume of history or philosophy. .^
The political effects of the wars were also
greatly dangerous, and injurious to the colonies ;
they kept them in an almost absolute dependence
on the European powers and monarchs. It was
not with an expectation of deriving any assist-
ance from their European sovereigns, that the
first settlers came into the eastern parts of Ameri-
ca ; it was to get rid of their ecclesiastical au-
thority and intolerance, that they left their na-
tive country. When they arrived here, it was
in consequence of a patent from James the first ;
and they understood their charter as a sacred
compact, describing the grants that were, made
to them by their sovereign, and the nature of
the allegiance that they were to bear to him.
Their ideas of ciiil subjection were that birth
was not a necessary or an unalienable cause of
submission, to any civil government ; but that
"when they left their native country, all the obli-
gation they were under to the king of England,
arose from voluntary compact ; from their own
agreement and act in accepting their patent, and
s^by that entering into a voluntary contract of
submission and obedience to the king of Eng-
land. They had no doubt but that the country
to which they came, in respect to its soil, do-
minion, lordship and sovereignty, belonged to
tlie Indians, and not at all to the European mon-
archs ; and that when they had fairly purchased
these of the rightful owners, they had a right to

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 469

set up what forms of governments they pleased,
consistent with their patent and charter, by
which they had engaged their future allegiance
to the king of England.* Whether these prin-
ciples were, or were not in conformity to the
principles of the English laws or monarchy,
they were certainly founded on the law of na-
ture ; and were therefore of an earlier origin,
and of a more sacred authority than any English
law ever could be, which considers birth not
only as a local, but as a perpetual and unaliena-
ble cause of civil sub|ection.

In opposition to every sentiment of this kind,
the English kings believed that every child born
in their dominions, or derived from any of their
subjects, belonged to them ; and that his very
birth implied an obligation to constant, perpetual
and unalienable allegiance. In conformity to
their principles, they soon discovered that they
meant to regard or disannul their patents as they
pleased ; to alter or set aside their charters ; to
frame, destroy, or alter the colonial governments
as they chose ; and with the concurrence of
their parliaments, *' to bind them in all cases
whatsoever." It is not possible to form any
idea of the most absolute, despotic, tyrannical
power, that can carry its claims beyond this.

The colonies, though holding very, different
political principles, were not in a state to con-
tend with their sovereigns. Surrounded with
enemies and involved in wars, both the English
and French colonies looked to their kings for
assistance ; and while the one met with this
kind of help, it became necessary for the other

* Hatchinson's iiist. Massachusetts, Vol, I, p.ajl,
^OL. I. K 3

47Cf NATURAL AND CIVIL

to seek the same kind of assistance. A depeti^
dence on and subjection to the European powers
and monarchs of course took place, which ex-
cluded every idea, and every desire of indepen-
dence ; and the colonies viewed their relation
and connection with the European governments
from which they descended, as a matter of ne-
cessity, safety, and the highest honor. The
British kings and ministers believed that the
science of government contained such profound
and sacred mysteries, that the people could nei-
ther understand nor manage them : the people
in the colonies were in such a state of political
impotency and submission, that they were in
fact looking to the European kings and minis-
ters, frequently unacquainted with any part of
the business, to manage and direct their govern-
ments. This dependence of the colonies on the
European kings was attended with many, and
with great disadvantages. It embarrassed and
perplexed their own governments, encouraged
the ambitious and intriguing to be perpetually
complaining and meddling, restrained their trade
and commerce, prevented the most necessary
and useful manufactures, subjected them to inju-
rious restraints, confined their business and
pursuits within narrow limits ; and was calcula-
ted to keep their minds in a state of perpetual
infancy, inactivity and weakness. And it was
not their own desires and inclinations, but the
folly and oppressive policy of the British minis-
tct^ :\nd l-"ng, that taught them to study their
righ' and tc understand the danger of submis-
^^^:)n r heir European masters.

Sucii 'as the colonial system of war. Hav^

HISTORY OF VERMONT. 471

ing both an American and an European origin,
it was not to be expected but that from the one
or the other of these sources, it would be ahnost
perpetual ; and while it continued the evils that
were connected with its moral, literary, physical,
agricultural and political effects, could not be
avoided. In Europe, when their monarchs were
engaged in such contests, which ever party
gained an increase of territory, all the sovereigns
obtained an increase of wealth, of power, of de-
pendents, of influence and authority. It was
evidently their advantage to have war as fre-
quent and constant, as the finances and circum-
stances of their kingdoms would admit. In the
colonies all was the reverse. The system of
war served here to inflame and imbitter the
minds of men, to keep them unacquainted with
the arts and sciences, to retard the population,
and prevent the settlement of the country ; and
to keep the colonies in a hurtful and disgrace-
ful dependence on and subjection to European
kings and nations. And it was not till they re-
jected this degrading submission and depen-
dence, that they arose to their proper rank and
station among the nations and powers of the
world.

APPENDIX.

ooooo
No. I.

^n Account of the Variation of the Magnetic Needle, in the
Eafiern States, Chap. i. p. 22.

IN laying out lands in America, the dirrflion of the lines, is gen-
erally taken b\ the Ma(/i>etic Needle, Tiie inllrumenis which have been
generally ufcd, are the Piain Table, or the Circuinfei enter, divided into
degrees, and fiued wiih a Magnetic Ncedie ol ihiee or four inches radius.
Had the greatpfl pofTible care been laken by able mathematicians, it would
not have been poflible for thtm , wiih (uch iiillrumcni.s, to have avoided
inuny errors and millakcs, But in tcaice'lyany inflance has the variation
o' the needle been known, or at ail .iiicnded to. Many, and aimoif end-
lefs controverfies and lawfuits, have ari'en Irom this cau'e. In many in-
flances no data couid be found, by wh'ch it was poflible to come to a juft
decifion ; the variaUon of the Magnetic Netdie. at the times wlitn iliecon-
teRed lines were run, being unknown. On fuch accounts, the knowledge
of the Magnetic variations in the inland pans of ^ menca, is become a mat-
ter of great importance to the people ; their intereft and property in many
caff 5, being much afl'tted by it.

From the year 1302, the dir(£five power of the Magnet has been em-
ployed with gteat fuccefs, in the aff<jirs of navig'ation. But the fit fl account
that we have of anv ob(erved variation in its diietlion, was by Columbus,
in the year 1492, in his firft voyage to Ameiica. Until tliat time, philo-
fophers unitoimly believed that the pole of the Magnet, exadlly coincided
■with the pole of the earth ; and they had no idea of any fuch thing, as a
variation. Amidfl the uncommon (cenes of difficulty which oppoicd the
views, and fxeicifed the genius of '.he difcoverer of America, when he had
advanced two hundred leagues well of the Canary Ifldnds, his compaTs be-
gan to fail him ; and it was found not to point to the pole of the earth, or
exaftly north, but one degree to the weft of that point. From that tidje
the variatvin began to be oberved, and became more and more known.
For the laft century and a halt, mathematicians have made it a regular part
of their bufinefsto obferve it, in different parts of the earth ; with lhea«-
nual alterations that are conftantly taking place.

In the year 17231 a very accurate obfervcr, G. Graham, of London, dif.
covered that the magnetic needle had a diurnal, as well as an annual varia-
tion. And it is now well known to philofophers, that from about eight
o'clock in the morning, the Magnetic Needle verges to the Weft, uracil a-
bout two o'clock in the aiternoon. When it has attained its greateft weft-
ward variation, it gradually returns to the eaft, until about eight or nine
o'clock in the evening ; when it becomes ftationary, until the next morn-
ing. Tables expreflive of this diurnal variation are become common ; and
are to be lound in the tranfaftions of all philofophical focieties. Thus in
the mofl regular flate of the Magnetic Needle, it is couiianiiy fubjeft to
two variations ; an annual z\\6. a diurnal one.

The effeft of thefe variations are at all times fuch, that the Magnetic
Needle can never give to the furveyor who follov;s its di!e£fions,a firaight
or an accurate line. And it ought not to be ufed at all, where the bufinefs
requires great accuracy and precifion. It is however fcarcely prafticable in
America, to fubllitutc any thing better in the room of it : Moil of the lines
which have been already run by furveyor^; were run by the Needle ; this

474

APPENDIX,

is much the mofl convenient inftrument that can bo carried, or nfed in the
woods ; the cxpence of running lines any other v/ay, would be too great
for individuals to bear ; and the furvcyors are not qualified to run them by
the true naeridian. For fucli reafons it is probable thai, the Magnetic Nee-
clle will fliil continue to be the indrument, by which the lir>es will be run,
and the townftiips be laid o'Jt in America. VVe muft therefore en-
deavor to provide the beft remedy we can, for an error or evil, which we
cannot eafily remove. The beii remedy which the cafe admits of, is an ac-
curate ob'eivation ef the variation of the Magnetic Need ie, at the time when
divifional lines are tun. This fhou'd be done b>' able mathematicians, and
in as many placsina Hate, as may be. Such obfervations will afford the
beff diredtioii, lufveyois will be able to find, to enable them to determine
what is the real or true direction of their Magnetic lines. — It is with thjj
view, that the folio./ ing Table is fubjoined.

Magnetic Oht-rialions made in Canada, and the EaUtTn Statej of America.
State I Place. Time. I Vaiia'.ion Obs

-5

S

r Quebec.
I

I Three Rivera,
j Montreal.

■ North line of Vt. ao
miles eafl of Con.riv.
Noith line of Vt.at
Connefticut river.

B J Burlington.
^^ Pvutland.
I Pownal,

L

A Penobfcot bsy,
\ Penobfcot, fort

^ 3 Pownal.

^ I Falmouth.
/ Kittery point,

J \ Portfmouth.
^ )Hinfdale.
^ (

'' Newburyport.
Beverly.
Cambridge .

<

Oftober 1 7

Augwft

1649
>686
1785
'793
1785
»749
1785

^ray J3,
March 3,
April 1 7.
Sept. 30,

June 15,

July 18,

Wrenthai4i,at Angle
Tree.
r Northeaft comer of

It

;| i Rhode inarid.
jj; t. Providence.
Haitford in Conneftlcut.

Northwefl corner of

the Oblong.

Newyork.

1806

1793

"789

1786

1605

1761

1763
1771

1771

J772

Augufl 6, 1781

Auguft 2, 178/

1742

5 757
17S3

June ao, 1782

June /J, 1788

April 7, 1785

June

Si;pt.

Sept.

18,

25.

Sept. 18,

1741
1769
1786

1786
1686
1724

.6^

'5

12
12

9
10

8

9
7
7
5

11

30

3.
3'
38

2<i

7 4=>

o

38

3

52

45
46

48

•-o

18

2
o

ao

o

46

38

/G

S5

3

45

i.o

22

Des, Hayes.
Holland, Sur-
renerai
ida.
M. Giilion.
Holland.

-J Holland,
J- veyojGe
J of Canac

Whitlav/, S. G.
Dr. Williams,
Dr. Williams

}

Weymouth,

> Dr. Winthrop
Holland.

Holland.
Wright.

Dr.
Dr.

Wiiiiame.
Wiliard.

L Dr.Winthrop

^ Dr.Williarni.

Dr. Williams.
Cms. f. r. :. I,
b.R. I. & Mai,
Dr. West.
Dr. W'lUiams.

Dr. WiUiamj,
Wells, S. G.
Gov. Buinot-
AlrxaB4e')

APPENDIX. 475

No. II.

Ohiitvatiom on the change of Climate in Europe and other places.
Chap. IV. p. 80.

THE change of climate which has taken place in North America,
has been a matter of conftant obfervation and experience. It feems to be
the univerfal opinion of hiftorians and philofoohers, that there has been a
more remarkable change of climate throughout all Europe. There are
feveral phenomena fiom which it may be (howii with much certainty, that
this has been the cafe in feveral places.

In the land of Paleftinc, about the latitude of 30 or 31 degrees, north,
the author of the book of Job makes ufe of fuch languaf^e as this, " Haft
thou entered into the treafurcs of the fnow ? Or had ihou feen thetreafures
of the hail ? — Out of whofe womb came the ice ? — And the hoary tioll of
heaven, who hath gendered it ? — The zvaten are kid as uiitk a Jlone, andthi
ja.ce of the deep ii frozen" Job xxxviii. 22. 29, 30. Thefe are probably
the words of Mofcs ; and they are expreflive of that degree of cold, ia
v.'hich the furface of water is fo ftrongly frozen as to conceal its fluidity,
and refemble the confidence and hardnefs of Hone The degree of heat id
which this cfFtft takes place in rivers, ponds and laigecoUeftions o! waterj
I have generally found to be about 25 degrees of Farenheit's thermometer ;
with a duration of a week or ten days. We (hall not therefore be far from
llie truth, if we conclude that the extremity of the cold in the land ot Mi-
dian, could not have been lefs than 25 degrees, in the days ol Mofcs : And
that fuch a cold, was of fame days duration. Such was the degree, and the
cffeEl of the cold in the land of the Midianites, about 37.5 centuries ago.

In the writings of David we have alfo a defcription, of what was eliecm-
cd a fevere feafon. ♦' He giveth fnow like wool : He fcattereth the hoar
froft like afhes. He cafleth forth his ice like morfeh : Who can (land before
his cold ?" Pfalm cxivii. 16, 17. This account muft have been written
at leaft iS^ centuries ago. The language of the poet does very ffrongly
cxprefs the etfeft, which the cold hatl on the feelings ot men in that warm
elimate. But the account which he gives of the appearance and form of
the ice, denotes a lefs degree of cold than what took place in the days of
Mofes. When the degree of heat is but 31 degrees of Farenheit's ther-
rnometer, the ice may appear to be cad into the form of morfels and cryf-
tals : And this fcems to have been the greateft degree ot confiffence, extent
and hardnefs, in which the poet had cither feen it, or conceived of it. It
fbould fecm therefore that from the time ot Mofes to David, the cold had
abated in the land of Pakftine : That four centuries before, it hid the wa-
ters as with a floue, and caufed the face of the deep to be frozen : But that
now it only calf out the ice like morfels or cryftals. The difference in
the degree of co.'d neceffoiy to produce thefe efFtfts, is about 6 degrees.

We have here an account of the climate in the land of Paleftine, fo far
back as 28 and 32 centuries. Inflead of ireafures of fnoW, hail, and ice, a
frozen dfxp, and cold which can fcarcc be flood hefore, the inhabitants of
that country now find a hot, fultry climate ; in which fnow and ice are
never feen. We have not an account of any meteorological oblervationH
made at the places, where Mofes and David lived. The climate is proba-
bly much the fame at thofe places, as it is in others of a fimilar latitude and
fituation. We may therefore make u(e of thofe which have been made at
Grand Cairo, as the mofl applicable, and the bell which we can find, to'
j;ive us an idea of the temperature of the winter in thofe parts of the globCo
©raad Cairo lies in the latitude of 30" north. According to Mr. Niebor'*

476 APPENDIX,

olifervations made therein the years 176 « and 1762, the mean heat of
thofe years was 73°, 65. The mean heat in the month oF January was
57" ; that of February was 63".* It is but feldom that the mean heat of
ibe fevercft week in the winter, falls more than 7 or 8 degrees below the
mean temperature of the whole month. This will give 49 degrees, 3S the
mean temperatare of the fevered week, in the winter at Grand Cairo. And
this cannot be greatly different from the temperature of the winter, in the
land of Paleflinc. From this way of coiriputaiion. we fhall have 2^ de-
grees of Farcnheit's thermometer, as the alteration which has t^ken plac«
in the feverity of the winters in that country, fmce tne time of Moies.

The climate in Italy isalfo found to be very different now, from what
it was »8 centurusago. Virgil, the celebrated poet, was diftinguifhcdalfb
by his knowledge in agricultu.'e. In his Georgics he is frcquentlv giving
advice tor the fecuriy of cattle, againff the dangerous effects of ice and
fnow. His direftions were defi^'i.d for the country round Mantua or
Napies, his native place, in the laniude of 41". Mentioning Calabria, the
moft fouthern partof Italv, he fpcaks of tne fre-zing of the rivcis. as an
event that was lommonlv to be cxpefted. Pliny, Juvenal, and .^lian,
writers in the firll and fccond crniurics, fp'-.ik ot ice and fnow as what
was common in Italy. One of thefe writprs, yElian, has a chapter which
confjrts altogciher of inffrufticns how ofifh for eels, when ihf water is
coveied \vith ice. The decree of cold nfctffarv to ■ ff^ft this, canriot be
cftimated at a iefs degree than 25. From thp meteor logical obfervations
which were made at Rome in tne year 1782 and 1783, it appears that the
mean heat in the month of January at that p'.sce. is now 46 degrees ; and
that the mean heat of the coldelf vi'cek in the winter was 42 degrees ;+ 17
degrees greater than that, in which the permanent freezing ot riv< rs akes
place. The change of climate therefore in Italy during the iaft i8 centu-
ries, cannot have been Iefs than 17 degrees ; but from the inaccuracy of the
ancient accoiints it may have been many more.

A fimilar change has taken place in the country round Conftantinople,
and the Euxine or Black Sea. Fhi.v we coUeft from the works of Ovid.
This celebrated poet was bauifhed to Tomos, by the Roman emperor.
This place is in the latituaeof 44^ ; and lies n^ar ihe'coatt ot the Euxine
Sea. The poet fpeut leven yeais in his banifhment at tliJs place, aboutthc
middle of the firft century. He informs us that he faw the Euxine Sea
covered with ice : That he walked upon this ice ; and that oxen and car-
riages paffcd over it. He goes farther, and add:, that when he called for
wine in a fevere fcaion, it was prefented to him in a ftate of congelation :
And that the fnow in many places, was never c^ilfolved during the fummer
fealon. Tournefort obfcrves that in the dayi, of Conttantine, the {freight of
Byz.intium was frozen over : And that in the year 401. the Euxir-e Sea was
covered with ice for 20 days tcgether. We have not any meteorological
obfervations to (fate with exaflnefs, what the prelent temperaiure of that
climate is. But nothiiig would be more uncommon and extraordinary,
than to fee this fea frozen over now. In 16S7. the Turks were greatly
aflonifn'.d at the appearance of fome ice at Conllantinoplf : And in all the
adjacent country, inllcad of a frozen (ca, fiozen wine, and perpetual fnow,
they have now a fine moderate warm climate ; one of the moft luxuriant,
and delightful, that is to be found upon the face ot the ea th. So far as wc
can judge from the general phenomena, the change of the climate there,
has been tally equal to what has taken place in Italy.

* Voyage, Vol. I.

i Ejbera, Soc, M«tor, Palat.Obfcrvatioacs RotnaDJe, Torn, II & III*

APPENDIX. 477

The fame alteration has been obferved irpon the Alps and Appenines.
I'hefe ate the highcft mountains in Europe, and divide Italy from France,
Switzerland and Germany. The match of H.innibal's army over thefe
;riouniains, was one of the moft memorable exploits of antiquity. la
thfif accounts of it, Livy and Pol^ bius in almoft every line, are mention-
ing the extreme difficulty and futferings wh-ch arofe from the fevere frofts,
ice and Inow. Thefe mountains are ealily p-ifTcd now. Armies have fre-
quently eroded them without any uncommon fufferings, from the time of
Francis the firft.*

The change of climate has been alfo very remarkable in Germany. Two
circumflances have marked this with certainty. By the account of Dio-
dorus Siculus: i. " The great rivers which covered the Roman provin-
ces, the Rhine and the Danube, were frequently frozen over, and capable
of fupporting the moft enormous weights. The barbaiians who often
ehofc that fevere fcafon for their inroads, tranfported without apprehenfion
or danger, their numerous armies, their cavalry, and their heavy waggons
over a vaft and lolid bridge oi ice. Modern ages have not prefented an inr
fiance of a like phenomenon. 2. The reindeer, that ufeful animal, from
whom the favage of the north derives the beft comfort of his dreary life,
is of a conftitution that fupports and even requires the moft intenfe cold.
He is found on the rock of Spitzoerg, within ten degrees of the pole ; he
feems to delight in the fnows of Lapland and Siberia. But at prefent he
cannot fubfift, much lefs multiply in any country to the fouth of the Baltic.
In the time of Casfar, the reindeer, as well as the elk and the wild bull,
was a native of the Hercynian foreft, which then overfhadowed a great part
of Germany and Poland. "f

Thefe accounts will affift us to form forne general idea of the climate of
Germany at that time. The freezing of the Rhine and the Danube is men-
tioned, as an event that was annually to be expefted ; what the barbarians
always found to take place in the fevere feafon ; and to fuch a degree, as to
afford ihetn a certain and a fafe paffage for the heavieft burthens, and for
the largeft armies. This account of the ftrength, firmnefs, and duration of
the ice, conveys the idea of a winter equal in ail its efFefts, to that which
takes place in the uncultivated parts of North America, The rivers are
here conftantly frozen evpry winter. The inhabitants find by conflant ex-
perience, that at that feafon of the year they c^n tranfport their heavieft
effefts, and the greateft weights, with fafety, certainly and convenience*
The mean heat of our winters in fuch places, is from 15 to 20 degrees, la
fuch a cold, the rivers and ftreams will be fo conftantly and fteadily frozen,
that the inhabitants find a certain and a fafe p'.ffage every winter, over the
rivers and lakes. This feems to have been very much the ftate of the an-
cient German winter. From the obfervations which were made at Vienna,
latitude 48° — 12' north, in the years 1779 and 1780, it appears that the
mean heat there in the month of January was 2 7°, 5 ; in February it was
33**. 23. At Ratifbon, htitude 48" — 56' north, in the years 1781 &. 1782,
the mean heat in the month of January was found to be 30'. 52 ; that of
February was 30°, 76. At Manheim, latitude 49° — 27' north, in theyeart
1781 and 1782, the mean heat in the month of January was 35°, 08; in
February it was 35°,8.:{: The mean of thefe, 31^.3 in January, and 33'.2S
in Feb'uary, wili accurately exprefs the prelent temperature of the Germart
v/interon the Danube and the Rhine. The time when the barbarians ba-

* Phil. Trans. Vol. LV II I, for 1769, p. 58, &c.

+ Gibbon's Roman Hii^ory, Vol, I, p. 346.

J Ephem. Soc. Meteor. Palat. Tom, I, ll, III, &c,

VOL. I. L 3

478 APPENDIX.

gan their tnrnads Into the Roman provinces was about the year 2it, Ae«
cording to this computation, the change of climate in Germany has been
between li and i6dc;irees, in 15 and a half centuries.

The oiher inftance mentioned by the hiflorian, and which fcrvcs to mark
the climate in Germany in the time of Caifar, was the appearance &* the
reindeer. The varmert countries iti which he now refiHes, are Sweden,
Rujria & Lapland. From theobfervations made at ^bo, latitude 60" — 27'
north, from the year 17.50 to 1761, the mean heat in the month o\ January,
was found to be 19'', ^8; that of February, was 21" 38. M Peterfburg,
latitude 59° — ,56' north, from the year i76ito 1777 the mean heat in Jan-
uary, was lo'* ; in February, the mean heat wa.s 16^*, 46. The mean of
ihefe, 14**, 8 in January, and 18''. 9 in February, is the temperatuie of the
■winter in that partof the globe.* I hefe are the warmed climates in which'
the reindeer does now fubfift. It may theieforc with much probability be
inferred, that this was the temperature of the German winter in the days
of Caefar, 18 and a half cc-ntuties ago. Hence the alteration of climate in
Germany du'ing that fpace of time, has been about 16 decrees. It feems
to be a confirmation of the truth arid propriety of ihele different methods
<>f computation, that thcv bo'h afford much the fame refult.
' From thefe accounts it appears wiih a d;'cilive evidence, that the climate.
In the courfe of fevcral centuries, has rema'kably changed at Paleliine, in
Italy, around the Euxine fea, at the Alps, and throughout all Germany.
Through all this vad extent of country, the climate is now become 16 or 17
degrees warmer than it was 18 centuries ago. The continent of America
in fimilar latitudes, is ftiil (ubjeft to a great degree of cold. If the meteo«
rological obfervations which have been made at Williamfburg, Cambridge,
Quebec and Hudfon's Bay in America, be compared wi.h thofe which
have been made at Algiers, Rome, Poifliers and Solyfkamfki, places whofe
latitudes are nearly equal ;+ it will be found that the European continent
is now 12 degrees warmer than that of America. Many inquiries and
fpccu'ations have been propo'ed to account for this extreme cild of Ameri-
ca. From the accounts which have been mentioned, it appears that 17 or
18 centuries ago, the continent of Europe, inftead of being 12 degrees
■warmer, was ^ubjeft to a cold 4 or 5 degrees greater, than that which nov/
takes place on the continent of America. The proper inquiries therefore
ftem to be, whence is it [hat the European continent is become fo much
more mild and temoerate than that of America ? — Whe'her the latter will
not in a courfe of time become equally warm and temperate as the for-
mer ? — Whether the climates of both will not gradually become more
equal, uniform and moderate, than they now are ? — And. whether culti-
vatioii is fufficient to account for thefe changes ? For whatever the caufe
may be. the faft feems to be certain, the heat of all that part of the earth, of
which wc have any ancient accounts, has been increafing from the earlieft
ages.

* Kirwan's cflimate.

•} Algiers, latitude 36" -49'
Rome 41°— 54'

Poicliers 46^ — 39'

Solyfkamfkt ^g*

M. H.

72°
53^8

32^.5

APPENDIX, 479

No. III.

jiji account of Frogt du^ out of the earth at Burlingtom,
Chap VI. p. 154.

THE accoun's which natural hillcry has recorded of the difcovery of
toads and ffogs, in fi ua;ionsin which it has been fuppoTed it was impofTi*
J)le they fhould cxilt, have been ot a fingular and extraordinary kind.

A very remarkable inftance of this nature, has lately fallen under my
©wn obffrva'.i'in. On Oftober ath, 1807, Mofes Callin.Efq of Burling-
ton, was digging a well a few rods diliant from his dwelling houfe. Hii
houfe was about twenty rods fouth ot the College, on a hard gravelly r)il
and on the highell land in tne ijcighborhood. When the workmen !«, d
dug about five leer below the furface of ihe ground, they found fix frogs,
which did not appear to be in a torpid or wt-ak (fate ; hut as foon as they
were thrown out ol the earth, difcoveied the full powers of activity and,
health. Two of thefe frogs lay together in the earth, the others wercfepa-
rate ; moll, or all of them were covered, or lay under Imall ftones. Oc-
tober the 13'h, two more of the (ame kind were found ; feparate, but un«
der Imali itones as before October the 14th, in the mornirjg five more
were found, at the depth of about eleven feet from the luiface of theground.
Two of ihefe lay together, ihe others were fepaiate ; none of them were
covered with anv ffones, but furrounded with hard gravelly earth. Alex-
ander Cailin, L(q. a man ol the molt rcfpeftable charafter, alfured me,
tharhcfaA' the workmen dig up three of thefe frogs : and that another
man was prelent, when the workmen dug up the fourth.

At mv rcquelt Mr. Catlin prelerved two of them in a tumbler. Eight
hours after ihey were dug up, I viewed them with all the attention and
care in my power. They were of the fame kind as the frogs which are
generally fecn in this vicinity. One of them appeared to have attained its
full growth ; the other was not ot the full fize. Their bodies did not ap-
pear to be flirivelledj or in any degree emaciated, but full, plump and heal-
thy. Their eyes were lucid and brilliant, without any appearance of de-
fe£l. Their limb.s fecmed to be in perfcft proportion and order ; and.
their claws lon)£. flcnder and delicate. Relpiration appeared to be flrong
and unembarralTcd ; and carried on with as much ca(c and regularity as in
any other frogi. On moving the cover from the tumbler in which they
were confined, both of them jumped out from the glafs.and hopped round
the room ; and we had to chafe them leveral times round the room before
wr. could catch them. They feeined perfectly well to underftand thebcfk
way ofevadmg.our purfuit; did not attempt to leap againft. the wall or
furniture, but kept in that part of the room where they were apparently
belt fecured by the wall, chair: and tables. Nor have I ever feen more ac-
tivity, fprightlinefs, or ftronger powers of life and aftion in any frogs, than
what appeared in thefe two, eight hours after they were dug out of the
earth ; and had been preferved in a tumbler, without any kind of food or.
nourifhment. To render the evidence of thefe fafts as cunplcat as the na-
ture of the fubjfft would admit, we preferved both the frogs in fpiritsand
exhibited them to the view of the ftudents in the univerfity ; and they are
now in potfLlfion of the prcfident of that feminary. The workmen funk
the well 10 the depth of about eighteen feet, but did not find any more of
thefe animals.

Oiflober the 26ih, the workmen were digging another v/ell for Mr. Cat~
Jin, about eighty rods north call of ih,; College. The foil y/a of a Icofe,

4S0 APPENDIX.

gravelly kind. At the depth of eleven feet, they dug up a frog in (Ula
■well. Upon examination, I found it was of the fame kind, form, fize and*
appearance, as the frogs in the other well ; and had the fame phenomena
of health, vigor and aftivity. To afcercain the internal ftate and contents
of this frog, we opened it. On dideftion, it was found to contain aimall
quantity c;t blood. 7"he heart, lungs and other entrails, were in a natural
and perteft ilate. The inteilines contained a white mucus, of a middling
confiitence. The interiaal parts neither appeared to be loaded with fat, or
emaciated by leannefs ; but to be in a ftate that denoted regular but mode-
fate nourifhment. .And nothing like putridity, deficiency, or decay, ap-
peared in any part of the animal. Uncomfortable weather coming on, the
workmen did not fink this well to any greater depth.

It is fcarcely to be expcfted that more compleat evidence ever fhould
be found attending any inllances of this nature; And whether we can ac-
count for them, or not, their reality cannot, I think, be called in quedion.

In what manner fhali we go about to explain the phiiofophy of thefe
frogs ; or to account for their formation, fituation, and life ?

Could thefe animals have been produced in (uch a fiiuaiion by the earth i*
The Ao&r'mt oi equivocal gene) ation does not feem to have anything in theory,
obfervaiioo or experiment to luppori it. No one thing in nature appears
to be the rcfult of chance, cr accident. Every plant, every tree, and every
body in the whole fyftem ol nature, is evidently the refuit of defign, con-
trivance, and adjuff ment ; and appears to be preferved and regulated by
ilated and permanent laws. The objeft or the body is not to be named,
in the heavens, or in the earth, which appears to be pioduced, to be go»
verned,orto be moved by chance or accident ; (hat is by no caufe, or law'
at all. Leaf! of -^11 is this to be expefted in animals, every one of v;hich
has an appropriate form, conllitution, inclinations, and manner »f life, mo-
tion, and propagation, That men fhould be produced b\ corruption, or
that the rocks and woods (hould engender flags and tygers, would be an
affertion too improbable and ludicrous for folly to make, or for ii fidelity
to believe. It has been contended that infeffs are bred by corruption and
putrefaftion. Malpigi, Swammerdam, Redi and others have confuted'
this dofliine ; and Ihown that it does not agree with obiervation. The
refuit of their inquiries and obfcrvations is, that moft of the infc£l.s are
derived (!;«• ocw, and that they depofit their eggs wherever they can find a
iit place for incubation; in water, flifh, fmUs and vegetables, in en about
the bodies of animals, in the feathers of bird.^, hair of beafts, leaks of fifhes,
and in every accefTiblc part of nature. Nor will expciimcni help the doc-
trine of equivocal generation in any degree. From the corru;;tion of a
body arileih not affivity and iift^, but a difTolution of its parts. You'
cannot reduce a piece of flclh to puirefaflion, and nut of that putrid mafs
make an animal body, which fliall have a head, a heart, entrails, veins,
and blood vefuls ; all of which are necelTary to confliiuie a living creaiuie.
Nor can you take a piece cf rotten cheele. or meat and make out of it a
handful of mites or worms, any more than you can form it into lions or
■whales, h dodlrine then which has nothing jn theory, obfervation or ex-
periment, to fupport it, cannot be advanced with any apptarancc of proba-
bility to account for the formation of thefe frogs.

Could they have been pieicived or txifled in the earth for a Icng num-
ber of years ? This lecms to have been the cafe, and docs not appear to be
contraiy to the laws and phenomena of nature. Every animal that ■v^e arp
acquainted with, has apparently two modes ol exiliing fiecping and waking.
"When awake, all the (prings of nature icetn to be aftive and in motion ;
yhen afleep, the organs ofths body Icera lobe fufpcoded as to theiir

APPENDIX. 481

aftivity and exertions, but the circulation of the blond, and the aflive pow-
ers of life (lil! remain. And from the one to the other of ihcfe (fates all
the animals of which we have any information, have a regular and natural
tranfition. When wearied or rtduced by aftivity and exertion, the ani-
mal Irame relaxes and yields, and we find in rcll and fleep both relief and
refrefhmcnt. When the body has been relieved and refrcfhed by reft, ih«
powers of nature feem to be recruited, the pulfe gradually quickens, the
organs of fenfc refume their fundlions, and the animal awakes from fleep.
In mod animals, both thefe flaies are ncccfTaryto his hcalih and life ; they
regularly fucceed each other, and the one is as natural and neceflfary as the
other.

In fome animals this alternate arj rep,ular fucceffion of fleepingand wak-
ing is cither not kept up, or it is fubjeft to veiy long periods of lime.
Bears, Serpents, Toads, Frogs, Flies, and various other animals arc known
to live through the winter months in a torpid Hate. At the approach of
cold wather they retire into the earth, to the bottom of waters, or tolbme
place of fecurity, and do not appear again till the warmth of fpring has
fottened and vivified the earth. They then leave their places of conceal-
ment, and come forth into the atmofphere ; app.irently weak at firfl, but
not emaciated, lean, or deprived of their flefb.

During this period of their torpid rtatc, the appearances are, that they
exifl without any regular (upplies of food ; but not without fomething
that operates to their prefervaiion, fupport, nourifhment, or continuation.
As nature is not wearing away by continued aftivity, or by conffaiit per-
fpiration, it fhould feem that it does not require ccnftant fupplies of food^
to recruit, what in the torpid ftate is not much fpent or wafted. An ani-
mal then may exift in the torpid ftate without regular fupplies of food or
"Viftuals, to reftore or recruit that wafte of nature, which always takes place
in the aflive, but does not feem to have much tfFeft in the torpid ftate of
exiftence. But ftill, fomething is necefTaiv to preferve the animal in that
ftate in which it went to fleep, and fell into the infenfible lethargy. In
fome animals, water anfwers this purpofe ; in others, earth contributes to
the effeft ; in others, a rock, or a tree, or any thing that tends to preferve
and fupport the powers of nature, and prevent their being exhaufted. Antl
to every fpecies of animals, the author of nature fecms to have given a fa-
culty, todifcern and felcft what is beft fuiied to their purpofe.

Hbw long may an animal exift in a torpid, or in an infenfible ftate ?
Many of them, we know from obfervation, do annually live one half the
year in this ftate. We have well attefted accounts of a man living many
days in a ftate of fleep or torpor ;* of flies, immerfed and corked up in a
bottle of Madeira wine in Virginia, and many monthsafter coming tolife,
when the wine was opened in London ;+ of a toad that lived eighty or
a hundred years in the heart of an old oak at Nantz J And if all the
powers of animal life may be fufpended in fuch animals for fo long a peri-
od, what fhould prevent their continuance in fuch a ftate for a much longer
period of time ; for hundreds, or thoufands, or any given number o£
years ? Or who would pretend to alFign any data, to determine the maxi-
mum, to which (nch a ftate might extend? It all circumRances flioulii,
remain the fame, as they were when the animal firft went into the torpid
Bate, it does not appear that the powers of life miift neccffarily wafte *wij,

■ * Philofophical Tranfaflions.
■i- Franklin.

j Mcmoiii of the Academy of StUnccs for 17 19.

AH2 APPENDIX.

lor w*nf of f(tf)d. or fil f^-.T ? n^ if> f.-.'.-.rt »r.'! ftrrfe»»e ihrnj. And ii
thfv >*«tt pfeftffrfd. - V fnr»«j* b'ougSi kho ^

6(u«tir)n in which \h' . ..i. . .i;g uially go off, what

(hoitid p'fvfnt il» l'i!i- H« f of *r).ifi»l life «r»rt vt/nr f

In wi. . - ffj^: >'<■ ■ " - ■ :'.-:,

«r bff n ,■ II ? Thr

in wliK ii 111 of * h:< .,y iciiit 'ii'.cr-

inixrd wi:h l>iit wi ufr of p')'f*,

»»f iiiii'-s. or (urirriU i.l w»tcf ; »r«l it (he higfitU Itridln ihe viti'-'iy.
1'i<r tyo: of ! '' '■ ''• "-'iich Jlic (r<'ond well w«» duj;, w»i ol » loofc giiiv.-!.
)y foil, ivi:h I 'oixiurrs of etny t >od on a frn*)'. (-rninerice or hill.

Thfff w»s I. '.I »nv itiir>;( in thf; fiMiiliin Of iippMr«(,fr of riihrr, from
whirh »nv j>f'.l>«l>iliiv '" ((''>]'thitr. oouul ariV, tti»i riilifr /.I thr.fr pUcr»
%Kf ff rvrr covirtd or ovffflowfd l>v Iht wMir's of l.<kf rii.i"M.l»in, or
fif.io iiny of ihe »t\]ttttil iivtri, HtJiU thrfr jilit'fs howrvrr. h^fl i.H with-
In (iK or (fvrri yr»*s, brrri rovrrcd with hri»vv iwnhrr ; arid whith p(ob«»
|.]y h«d ofvrr brrri lonchrd by the h«nrt (>( loiin, nil ii \Aat cut ilowo a
ff w vfar* »f;r>, lo mtke wtiy (or thf friilrmrdt of lii>rl)n^>toii. In thnr
(iTi/(i(i*l mirt ntitiiriil Itntc, (mr wood$ »rr d^mp, moil) . und miry. The
Iffrv H'f alirrniKrlv Rrowwiij up, d<(iivti.j;, roiiiii)(, (»ilinj( do*»rr) ; snd orw
©fir» »fiftfif; up, lf(»rri :hf iln^ya, arid in lUe pU<r« of oihcis. lo ihi» pro-
crfs 0"ihiii^ i» inotr rornmon. lloin for hol(.«ari'l vii( u.tirj in appriii iiilhfl
I>i'dirt Aiiil III Hic roo.'ji, of ihr old 4iid drriiyin^ ltc(t ; ihric vat uiiir* and
f ffiots Kfc (>( ili!T( •rill fijjiitf* and diiiicurioiit, and every whrir lo be'
found III Ihe iinciiliivaied limdje. An.i lurh a kni'l of piocrfs ti»« |>rob>ibly
li'rn gi'K'fi on ill llir wood* of Vfrini>ni, Imni iheir hiff production un'i!_
now. In the fuu-i fHve clijui/.e* ihai fxiorr in ijiin refo. ^f (n*y huve r :«(•
ltd ihioii^h, thf re dors not feern to beany ihiii(5 oiinaiuf»l or ufipfob^iile,
ioiheic havii)^ brrn iKtien, places, and rtrriiin'Uni rs, in which fiO({< mic,ln
Ji.ive l>crii conveyed in iluii e,;,'.s, or al:er ihcii liid gtowih have found a
Ijfllfiiji.e (eveial feet b'low ihrluifa.e of ihe ej'ih ; and Oiii« rna'lc their
Vdy into fi'iiaiioiiK, in vvhich the prjwrr.« of hie loi^'ln he prelcfved, l<til
fjoin wfii' *i il.ii' (.Mil,! 1,1. Hii! .11. paira/{" or \\av to eirape.

Thi« ' 'ij^, nijy I btlie\e (trvc to account for

Ihe phyii " I ) "i .» i», " i . li we^ aicc'f'aia tiave lakeo place ; l>iit

it iji lar fiom lieiiif! certain that (hey do in iM cxolaio the a6)nal piCKcf*
6f (laiiiie, in the prtleivaliofl of fiith armrois And I am in niucli doiibi
%y|i(iher 'he obrrivations r.n the torpid ll.>it' of aniriuU, v^i.l apply to the
cafe o' it>e froj'.s. It di'l not ai>(>'-.)r lu me tha: any o' ilu-fc frogs were m
» lofpid Hate, when thry were rlui* up ; the phenomena ra'hei ilenrjted
that th'-v were in the lull power* o! anuia.iuii, a/.liviiy, and healih ; and
thjt hoiliiiiK was wantni^ lor ihrir e> ■•■ •'• '■ ■' fierd<>m loim their cjh-
tnrd and un*i»tiiral I'l uaiion. UpO' > ol ihern, no one ol ilw-

appeaidiif e' rieiiritfd th«i it had liven >\iiimmi i .inp kind ol food or nr-ur-
iftiineiii J bu' tint ii htd oi Utldeiired (onirihing lroit> the eaiih, whirh
(riinied ilit ler.n'ar iniicns tha' was Ipi'ad through ihe inu (\ me* ; and in
this way, reeelvrd rr^iilur fnpulie* ol lo'd and luppnii. In iiK.h a li ua-
iion, ii it pr(ib.jblc, ir nii.<hl loivc tivrd <is Iohj; as Ihe r^'lh tonlionrd to
all. lid the lu'uDnre and abment necelTnv f"' n- fu.iu'iri ; but whrn tlicfr
Oionltl have been carried ofl" by eyapmairin, i r being c<pofcri to

ibe fun and windsilhc lifr <>l the amiiiil eouiu n >i i.ave been prclervrd.

liilli «d then of pri'tendi(i)( to give a full and adeqiaic explanaiioii oi
•befr inyftrr'*' |>I n^'urr, I have only fl^trr^ » hal oemircd to "ly niim!
'ip'>n the iiih^d When 'there Ihil! be inoie inio: nviiion dirivid tioiu
2ads and 'ibliivjiion, it is not iniprolMhle thnt the impiovrr* of naiur.il
fiilliiiy w.ll hr ablet » ijivr » nine laiislaftory accyual «' d txp'analion eJ

Oiclfl cxuaoidiiiary, but well auclUa phenomena.

APPKXDIX. 48J

No. IV.

Ohservathns on the fafcinatin^ po'wer of Serpent:. C H A p t e K

Vl,"i-. .56.

WHEM thr icmarki rcfpcflin); tlie f*fciniting power of Srrpcnit,
infrrtt^J p^K^i^^- 6 •**» wiincn, I lud ncii mri wiih any Amnican ub crv^.
tioiit whic'i a|jp> <r<d 10 mc (o be (iifficienilv accurate lu aUcr ain ihr \i&x
or to jultily anv drcifion on (he <iit>j'tt. I have (incr bccfi lavorrd wiitl
•bfcrvau'int which app-ac to be mukcd wich picciGon and accuracy, and
may <fTord luf.her intofina'ion in ihii mydcnous pait of iiaiuial hiiloty.

Thi» lubj'A >*ai mrticioiud by Dr. Cvntin Mattirr, fa early a»ihc>ejr
1711 III 1 communication which he made to ihe Royal SiHuiy ol I.on-
doii, he deal) ol ih<- Raide Snike uf Ainciica, and rclausa tlory. at he
fay», c nftantlv afRimcl by ihr In.liani, vir. " (hat thefeSnak's (rctj.ieiuly
lie anled at the bottom ol a l»f>;e tree, with iheir e>e» fixed on fome Iquir-
rcl above in the tree, which thodj^h freniing by hit criet, and Icapiii); ab.iut
to be in a friglit, yet at lull runt down ihe tree into tlic jaw$ uf (tut de>
vomer."*

The H.>n. Paul Dudley of Roxburv, M.,frjcht.ret!i, Fellow of ilir Royal
Society ol LoiiJuii, and Chid jullice ol the Sopreme Court in .VIalI.it:iKi.
fctti, about the \e«i {fix. wroie tliui to the Royal Society. + that he
•♦ would uoi pretend to aiilwer l(»i the tiuih of every (lory he tad neard
ot their cHrmini^ or power of fafcination ; \ei he wa* abundantly faiUiied
from leveral witiic(T-f, both En^^lifh and Indian, that a raitir fnakc will
charm both IquirrcU and biidt Irom a tree into iiii mouth. Mi. Dudley
wai told by one of undoubted probity, that 3$ he was in the woodt he ob^
(ervrd a iqairrel in greai dillrr'} dancing from one bout>h to aiiodier, and
inakiii|( a lamentable noifr, till at lalt he came down the iree and \»n be-
hind a 1')^ ; the pnfori c'^'^g'^ ^cc wliat was become of him, Ipied a lar^r
fnakc thai Iwd fwailowcd liim.

" Mr. Dudley is the r.tther confirmed in thit relation, becaufe hiiowa
brother, beiiii; in ihe woads, openrd one ot th>-fr Inakea and found two
ftriped UjiirrfU in his belly, and boi'i ©f them fead torcmofl. When
they cliaim, (hey make a lioarfe noife with then mouths, and a fofi rattle
with their tai «, havm^ the e\e at the fametiiuc fix'-cj on ifte prey."

Beverly, in his Hiftory of Virginia, edit 1. p. tGa. Lond. 1722, 8vo.
oblcrvei, that " all foittol li>ake» will chaim both birds and rquiriels.and
ihc Indians pretend to charm them. Several pcrfons have (ecu fquiircls
run down a tree dircQiy into a Inake's m9Uth ; They hive likewiV feeu
birds llntterint; up ^''d down, and chaiteiiiig atthcfe (nakci, till at lalt thcjr
bave droptfd down before ihcm."

In tlir year 1748, M, Ka'.nj, profefTor of ■ in the L'liiverfity of

Alio, in SA'cdm, wa» lent into \orth Amt' .c parttc;i!ai piirpofe

of making; oblrrva'ioni on (be Natural llilloiy ot ihecoiintrv. During hit
flay III N'cw Yoik, he paid particular s'lenlioii to this fubjcft, of which he
givca the fidlowiiig account :— •' Moft of the people 111 (tii« country afcri*
bed to ihit Inskc a power of fafcioaiing biids and ^jjiirrls, as I have de-
fer ibed in (tveral paiisol my joumal. When the Inake lie* under a tree,
and has fin'u his ryes ml i bird or (Squirrel above, H ob!i>;<:s (hem to come
down and Co g'' dirrtlly into ii» mouih. I cannot account for this, for I
never ftw it dour. Ho'Ae\tr, ( have a !i;'l ol more than twenty (>er():i»,
amoiiii which arc lome of the moll crediiable |>eople, who liavcallun.ini.
mouflyt though living f«r dillaui from each other, aflcrted lite fame thin^«

* Phil. Traat. No. 339. ' I'lnl. Trauj. No. 37C. p. 195.

484 APPENDIX.

Thty affured me, upon their honor, that they have feen, at feveral timcJi
thefe black, fnakes Lfcinating (quirrels and birds which fat on the tops oi
trees, the fnake lying at the foot of the tree, with its eyes fixed upon thp
bird or fq'iirrel which (its above it, and utters a doleful note ; from whicH
it is eafy to conclude with certainty that it is about to be fafcinated, though
you caiirot fee it. The biid, or fquirrel, runs up a.d down along the tree
continuing its plaintive icng, and always comes nearer the fnake, whole
eyes are uoa'.tcrably fixed upon it. It fhou!d feem as if thefe poor crea-
tures endeavored to efcape the fnake, by hopping or running up the tree,
but there appears to be a power which with-holds them ; they are forced
downvk'ards, and each time that they turn back they approach the nearer
their enemy, till they aic at lad forced to leap into its mouth, which ftands
wide open for that purpofe. Numbers of (quirrels and birds are continu-
ally ruiming and hopping tearlefs in the woods on the ground, where the
fnakcs lie in wait tor them, and can eafily give thefe poor creatures a mor-
tal bite. Therefore it feems th.at this fdfcination might be thus interpre-
ted, that the creature has fird got a morial wound from the fnake, which
IS fure of its bile, and lies quiet, being affured that the wounded creature
has been pnifoned with the bite, or at leall feels pain from the violence of
the bite, and that it will at lafl be obliged to come down into its mouth.
The plaintive note is perhaps occafioncd by the acutcnefs of the pain which
the wount* gives the cieature ; But to this it may \e objefted, that the bite
of the black fmke is n:)t poifonous. It inay further be objcftcd, that if
the fnake could come near enough to a bird or fquiirel to give it a mortal
bite, it might as eafily keep hold of it, or, as it iomciimes does witk
poultry, twift round 2nd ftrangle or ftifle it. But the chief objcftion which
lies againft this interpretation is the following account, which I received
from the moft creditable people, who have affured me of it. The fquirrel
being upon the point of running into ihc fnakc's month, the fpeftalors
have not been able to let it come to that pitch, but killed the fnake ; and
as foon as it had got a mortal blow, the Iquirrcl or bird dcftlned for de-
ftruftion fiewaway, and left off' their mournful note, as if they had broke
loofe from a net. Some fay, that if they only touched the fnake, fo as to
draw off its attention from the fquirrel, it went off quickly, not (topping
till it had got to a great diffancc. Why do the fquirrel? or birds goaway
fo fuddenly, and why no fooner ? If they had been poifoned or bitienby
the fnake before, fo as not to be able to get from the tree, and to be forced
to approach the fnake always more and more, they could not, however,
get new ftrengih Ly the fnake being killed or diverted ; therefore it feemi
that they are only ??:c/mn!ed, whillt the fnake has its eyes fixed on them.
However, this looks odd and unaccountable, though many of the worthiefl
and molt reputable people have related it, and though it is founiverfally be-
lieved here, that lodoubt it would beto expofcche's felfto genera! laughter."
■ Thefe oblervations clearly fnow what has been the general fentiments of
the people upon this fubjcft, from the earlieft fettlement of the country.
The opinion foimed by the original inhabitants could not be derived from
books, fpeculations, or philofophical theories ; but muft have been formed
from what they had thcmlclvcs obfcrved and feen. Thofe of our anceftors
■who frequently met with thefe ferpeots in the woods, fouad the Indian ac-
counts to be true, and embraced the fame opinion, and it feems to have
been admitted by both, as a well known matter of faft.

The accovints however which they have given us of this matter, do not
amount to the highelf evidence the fubjeft may admit. They clearly fhowr
•what has been the general lentimcnt in the country refpefting the faft, but
they do not contain the obfcrvations and declarations of perfons, who hav?
themfelves been the obfervers or aftors in any of thefe extraordinary tranf-
aftions. The following communications will be found more circunsftan-
tsal and particular.

APPENDIX. - 48S

Arlington, Feh. 1 795.
IN your Natural Hiftory of Vermont, you have mentioned lome«
thing concerning the rattle and black fnakcs charming birds, which doea
not reduce the matter to ablolutc certainty. If you ihink the following
account on the fubjcft any way interefting, it is at vour fervice.

TIMOTHY TODD.
WHEN I was a lad, in ranging the fields for birds eggs, I heard a
tVirulh making her ufual noife of diUrcfs, and fiippofed fome boy was ta>
king its neft or young : 'Approaching towards her noife, I difcoveicd hct
circling the air not many feet from the ground, fhcwing every fign of dif.
trefs. Having viewed her fome minutes, being unable to account for the
phenomena, I at length difcovercd the largeft black fnakc which I had
ever fecn, lying ftretched out under the centre of the bird's motion : Being
ftruck with horror at the (ight, I ran off, and believe the fnake did not fee
me. My father, hearing the circumflance on my return home, told me the
fnake was charming the bird. — Some years afterward, when nearly arrived
to the age of manhood, walking in a field in Connefticut, near a fmall
grove of walnut trees, 1 faw a fparrow ciicling the air juft in the margin of
the wood, and making dreadful moans of diflrcfs. Immediately the for-
mer circumRancc occurred, and I approached with caution within twenty
feet of a black fnake, about (tien feet long, having a while throat, and of
the k'nd which the people there call runners, or choking fnakes.* The
foake lay flretched out in a ftill poflure ; I viewed him and the bird near
half an hour. The bird in every turn in its flight delccnded nearer the
objeft of its terror, until it approached the month of the ferpent. The
fnake, by a quick motion of its head, felled the bird by the feathers, and
plucked out feveral. The bird flew off a few feet, but quickly returned.
The fnake conrinucd to pluck the feathers at every flight of the bird, until
it could no longer fly : The bird would then hop up to the fnake and
from him, until it had not a feather left, except his wings and on its head.
The fnake nov/ killed it by breaking its neck, by an am9zing fudden mo-
tion ; he did not devour it, but call it a little off, and continued his fl:atioR.
Now the tragedy was again to be repeated ; for another bird of the fame
iind, who had fliewn figns of diftrefs during the firft tragedy, was fafcina-
ted to the jaws of the monflf.r in the fame circling manner as the former,
and fufFered the lofs of fome feathers. I could no longer ftand neuter.
With indignation I attacked the hated reptile, but he efcapcd me. The
living bird was liberated from his fangs. The dead one 1 picked up and
fiiewed to my friends, deflitute of feathers as before raentioned.

Brandon, July I, 1795.
Dear Sir,

I find you follcitous of information refpefting the charm of the
foike or fcrpcnt — perhaps the following account, which I received from
the moutli of a lady, who was herfelf an unliappy fufferer, may not be
araifs or unacceptable.

* It is faid that this kind of fnake will entwine himfelf round the
body or neck of a perfon, and choke him : It may be a vulgar errr-v : This,
however, is certain, they will often purluc a perfon who runs from them.
I have heard that they frequently charmed fquirrels 3»)d fome other ani-
mals, and in fome inftariceg the human fpecies : An inHancc or two which
happened to boys, will perhaps before long be prefeuted, with the proper
vouchers.

VOL. I. M 3

486 APPENDIX.

If I hive ant forgotten, her name was Finney, of Lanfingburgh — fhe told
me about five years a^o, that not long before that time, as (he was walking
by the corner of a certain fence, not far from North River, fhe was fud-
dtniy sniuled with the chirping of a fnake, whether a black or ftriped one,
1 have forgotten. As fhe drew nigher to the fence, (he difcovered the fnakc,
pitching its head to and fro, through a heap of dead brufh ; deeply en-
gaged with its charms, fhe forgot her'elf, till a neighbor pafling by, broke
her attention : When fhe felt herfelf as though fhe had been among poi-
fonou* herbs, itching, &c. which iffucd in a long fit of licknefs, which hcf
phyfician afcribed to the fafcinatioa of the fnake, Isnd (he had not per-
feftly recovered when I faw her.

I am, &c. I. WATKINS.

Exirafi ef a letter from Samuel Beach, dated Whitings-
July 24, 1795.

WHEM a lad, I Kwed with my father in the then province of New
Jerfey, where the black fnake, with a white throat, commonly called the
racer, as well as the rattle fnake, and other ferpents, are frequently met
with ; and 1 never remember to have heard any one difpafe the power of
charming belonging to fcveral fpecies of ferpents, but more common to the
black fnaks, called the racer, v/hich I have twice fecn in the operation.

The foliowircg (lory, I have often heard related, and to which people in

general gave credit, of a fnake's fafcinaiing a young lad : Two boys

were lent into the woods to look for cattle, and coming to a piece of open
land, where fomc colliers had been a fhoit time before burning coal, they
ftopped to liften for th6 bells that were on the cattle they were in fearch.
of; and near where they (food, they obferved a very large fnake, of the
racer kind : One of the boys obferved to the other, that if he would watch
the motion of the fnake, he himfelf was determined lo fee if it would faf-
cinate or charm him ; and (aid, ' you have a ftick in your hand, and if
you lee me like to be too much injured by the fnake, you. may kill him,
and relieve me,' This the other agreed to do ; when the firff advanced ai
few fteps nearer the fnake and made a (land, looking fteadily on him ;
•A;hen the fnake obferved him in that fituation, he raifed his head with a
quirk motion, and the lad fays, that at that inHant there appeared fome-
thing to flalh in his eyes, which he couldcompare to nothing more fimilar,
than the rays of light thrown from a glafs or mirror when turned in the
fun fhine ; he- faid it da zzled his eyes, at the fame time the colours appeared
very beautiful, and were in large rings, circles, ot rolls, and it feemed to
be dark to him every where elle, and his head began to be dizzy, much
like being ever fwifi: running water. He then fays, he thought he would
go from the fnake ; and as it was dark every where but in the circle, he
was feaiful of treading any where elfe ; and as' ^hey flill grew in lels cir-
cuaifertnce, he could (fill fee where to ftcp ; but as the dizzinefs in his
head ftill increafed, and he tried to call to his comrade for help, but could
not fpoak, it then appeared to him as though he v/as in a vortex 6r whirl.^'
pool, and that every turn bir.iight him nearer the cfntre.

His comrade, who had impatiently waited, obferving him rr^ove ob-
liquely forwards to the rig/it and left, and at every turn approaching nearer
the fnake. and making a (Irange groaning noile, not unlike a perfon in a fit
cf the night mare, he faid he could (land flill no longer, but immediately
Tan and killed the fnake, which was of the hrgcft iize.

APPENDIX. 487

The lad that had been charmed was much terrified, and in a tremor ;
|)is fhirt was in a few minutes wet with fweat ; he comrjlainecl much of a
dir.zinefs in his head, attended with pain, aud appeared lo be in a melan-
choly, llupid fuuaiion for lome days after.

1 have heard the ftoiy fo often related by difFcrent perfons, that I canHO(
Jjut give credit to it.

I HAVE obferved that you arc defirous ofcollefling informa-
tion relative to the fafcinating power of ferpents — If you think the follow-
ing inflance worthy a place in your ufcful collcfiion, you aie at liberty to
infert it.

When I was a boy about 1 3 years of age, my father fent me into a field
to mow fome briars. I had not been long employed, till I diicovcrtd a
largo rattle faake, and looked round for. fomething to kill hira ; but tyr.t
readily difcovering a weapon, ray curiofity led me to view him. He lay
eoiled up, with his tail cre£f, and making the uiual Tinging noifc with his
rattles. 1 had viewed him but a fhort time, when the moft vivid aud
lively colours that imagination can paint, and far beyond the powers of iLp
pencil to imitate, among which yellow was the roofl predominant, and
the whole drawn into a bewitching variety of gay and plealing forms, vere
prefcnted to my eyes ; at the fame time, my ears were enchanted with the
moil: rapturous ftrains of mafic, v^ild, lively, complicated and harrnoniouj.
in the higheft degree melodious, captivating and enchauiing, far beyor.'J
any thing I ever heard beh'ie or fince, and indeed far exc;eding whzt my
imagination in any other fjtuation could have conceived, i felt my felt ir-
lefiilibly drawn tovk'ard the hated reptile ; 3nd as I had been often ufed to
feeing and killing rattle fnakes, and my fenfcs weie fo ablorbcd by the
gay vifio.T and rapturous mufic, I was not for (ome time apprehcnfive of
much datigrt ; but fudficnly recolJedling what I had heard the Indians re*
Jate (but what i had never before believed) of the faicinating power of
ihefe ferpents, I turnco with horror frora the dangerous fcene ; but it wa*
a.ot without the moft violent efforts that 1 was able to extricate myfclf.
Ail the exertions I could niakC; with ray whole ftrength, were hardly fuf-
ficicnt to carry me from the fcene of horrid, yet phafing enchartmcflt ;
^nd while I forcibly dragged off ray body, my head icemed to be irrcfifti-
biy diawn to the enchanter, by an invifible power. /»ad I fully believ?;
that in a few moments lonp^er it would have been wholly out of my pow-
er to make an exertion fufricient to get away.

The latter patt of the fcene I was extremely frightened, «nd ran asfaft
a? poifible towards home, my fright increafing v.ith my fpeed. The firft
perfon I faw was my uncle, who difcovering my flight, ran to meet me,
and afkcd the occafion of it ; I told him I had been frightened by a rattle
fnake ; but was in too great a perturbation to relate the v.hole. He rallitd
me for my pufillaniir.ity, and took me by the hand, and we v;ent to the
f,i!dce where the fnakc was ilill lying, which was foon difpatchcd by my
uncle. I then related the flory to hiin> and havp fiacc told it to many
other perfons.

The night following I never clofed my eyes ; The fame fcene continu-
ally haunted niy imagination. Whether the agitation was occahoned
mcieiy by t'le recollcVlion of what had pafTtd, or whether the operation
of the charm ftill had ■''>me real cfieft upon the nervous fyflom, I caunot.
<Jeiermine. ELIAS WILL.-^RD,

T^^'MouTH, Oct. 27, 179^.

488 APPENDIX.

UPON a careful examination of the above accounts, I canftot fee thafc
any obfervations are to be expefted upon this fubjedl, more accurate of
particular ; or which could probably be attended with more convincing
alteftations or evidence of their being authentic and correft. Dr. Todd, ii
a phyHcian of much ability and diftinftion, formerly prffident of the
medical fociety, and one of the Council of this State, and now? refident in
Connefticu*. Mr. I. Watkins was a minifter of the go'pc-i at Biandoo,
and now lives in the flate of New York. Mr, Beach has been attentive to
the natural pioduftions of the country, and now lives a; Wiiiting. Mr.
Willard died at Tinmouth a few years ago, and was a man of much infor-
mation, virtue, and veraciiy. And I cannot difccrn any article or circum-
fiance in their lelations ot thefe matters, which appears to be ot a doubt-
ful, deceptive, or fallacious nature. They relate fimply and merely to
matters of faff, and are declarations of what they heard, obicrvtd and felt ;
matters of which they certainly were adequate and competent obferverg
and judges.

Among a number of accounts of a fimilar nature, I (hall only mention
one more, v.'hich 1 have from Col. James Claghorn, of Rutland, which is
inftrted not fo much with a view to elhblilh the faft, but rather as afford-
ing fome information rclpefcing the manner and ptocefs or the operaiion.
At Salifbury in Connefticut, fome years ago, where the Colonel then lived,
there were two men of the name oi Baker and Nichols. Going
tov^/ards the meeting houfe in that place, tliey difcovered a large laitlc-
fnake, in a plain open piece oi land. The fnake lav coiled up i'n a pofture
of defence ; to attack him with (afety, ihev procured a long fiender pole
or I witch, with which they could reach him without being in anv danger
from his motions. As the fnake could not elcape, they diverted them-
felvcs with initating him with their pole, wi'hout giving him any con=
(Jderable wound. They h..'d carried on this bufuiefs (ome time, during
which the fnake had repeatedly attempied to fpring upon theiti from his
coils, and to efcape by running ; and di covered uncorjimon appearance!
of rage £iid difappointrncnt. Being prtvenicd in all bis attempts to elcape
from, or to bite his cppolers, he ludtlenly ftietched himlelf at his full
length, and fixed his eyes on the man wire \^^.•' tickiiiig him with the end
of his pole. The (noke lay per'feftly U. 'I, end Mr. Nichols kept on ihe
fame motions with his fwitch. Wilt's ihii fcene had continued for a (horf.
time, Mr. Nichols feemed to incliiic hrs body more and more towards the
fnake, andbegci' to move towards him in a very flow and irregular man-
ner. Baker, who flood looking on, noticed thefe appearance, jiid called
to Nicttols to dcfiU from the bufmcrs, and di''patch the fiiake. He took
no noiice of thefe admonitions, but appealed to have his whole attention
fixed on the fnake, v.as obfeived to be gia-iually moving towards him, to'
h.ive a pale afpcft, and to be in a piofiife Iweat. Alarmed wiih the prof=
pccf. Baker took him by the fhoulders, gave him a violciu /hake, pulled
him awiy by force, and enquired what was the mailer. Nicholsythu*
forced from the fcene, made an uncommon moun.ful noifeot dilircfs, ap-
peared to be uncommonly and iiniverlally afleflcd, and in a lew minutes
replied to the enquiries that he did not know what ailed him, thai he could
not tell how he felt, that he had ncvri felt fo btfou, that he did not know
what was the maiter wiih him, but was very unwell.

The above accounts relate only to the falcii.aiing power ol two of the
ffipents of America. Singular and cxtraordinn ■ zi they may appear, ws
j-iave very authentic relations that the fame rovvens foutid in lonieof thr
fsrpentjoi tke other hssnifoliercs

APPENDIX. ■ 489

^ne very remarkable account of this kind is from Italy by Dr. Sprcngell.*
Ai Milan he found a viper catcher, who feldom was wuhout fixty or more
vipers alive, kept together in a back room, open at top; he had them from
ill parts of Italy, and fold them dead or alive according to the u!es they
were defigned for. Having one day got a female viper, big with young,
we catched fome mice, and threw in one at a time; amonglt all that num-
ber of vipers, which were upwards of fixty, there was none of thpin in the
leaft concerned himfelf about the moufc, till the prcgnan'. female viper an(i
the moufe interchanged eyes ; whereupon the moule (lartled ; but the vi-
per raifed her head, and turned her neck into a perfeft bow, the moiith
Open, the tongue playing, the eyes all on lire, and the tail ercft : The
tnoufe feemed foon recovered of his fris^ht, would take a turn or two, and
fomecimes more, pretty brifkly round the viper, and giving at times a
fqueak, would run with a great deal of fwiftnefs into the chops of uie vi-
per, where it gradually funk down the gullet. All this while the viper
never ftirred out ot her place, but lay in a ling."

It is to be obferved, that no viper wi'l feed when confined, except a
pregnant female viper. The Doftor faw the lame thing at BrulTels, whete
a foldier had catched a large viper big with youngs

I^From the Travels of Le Valliant in Africa.]
IN the additional volumes of the travels of Le Valiiant into Africa,
appear fome very ftrikingfafls relative to the fafrinating power of lerp?iits.
Two of them are authenticated on the evidence of the author himfelf, and
the other is fanftioned by his belief iu the veracity ''f the relator.

The inftances produced by Le Valiiant are briefly as follow ;

Firfl inftance. — "One day, in one of our excutdons in hun'ing, we
perceived a motion in the branches ot one of the trefs. Immediately wc
heard the piercing cries of a flirike, and law it tremble as if in coMvjj|(r>ns.
We fir ft conceived that it was held in the gripe of fome bitd of prev\;
but a clofer attention led us to difcover lipon the next branch of the tree,
a large ferpent, that with flretched out neck, and fiery eyes, thougn p rfc£l=
ly ilill, was gazing at the poor animal. The as;ony of t'le hiid was lerri-
ble ; but fear had deprived it of llrength, and, as if tied by the 1?; it
feemed to have loft the power of flight. One of the company ran for a
fufee ; but before he returned, the fhiike was dead, and we oiily Ihot ctie
Jerpent. I requefted that the diftance betv/een the place where the bird
i;ad experienced the convulfions, and that occupied by the ferpent m'aht
be meafured. Upon doing fo, we found it to be three feet and a halt, and
we were all convinced that the fhrike had died neither from the biie, nor
the poifon of its enemy. I ftripped it a!fo before the whole company,
and made themobferve, that it was untouched, and had not received the
flighteft wound."

Second inftance. — " Hunting one day, in a marfhy piece of ground, I
heard, all at once, in a tuft of reeds, a piercing and very lamentable cry»
Anxious to know what it was, I ftole loftly to the place, where I perceiv-
ed a fmall moufe, like the fhrike on the tree, in agonizing convulfions, and
two yards farther a ferpent, whofe eyes were intently fixed upon it. The
moment the reptile faw me, it glided away; but the bufinefs was done.
Upon taking up the moufe, it expired in my hand, without its being pof-
fible for me to difcover, by the raoft atlcatlve examination, what had oc-
iSafioned its death."

* Phil. Tranf, No. 39;;.

490 APPENDIX.

Third inftance.—" The Hottentots, whom I confulted upon this iocif
dent, cxpreffed no fort ot aftoriifhment. No hing, they faid, was morit
(Common; the Cerpent had the faculty of attracting and fafcinating fucb
animal- as it wished to devour, I had tlien no faith ia fuch power ; but
fome lime after, fpeaking of the circumftance in a company of more thass
twenty perlons, in the numbei of whom was Colonel Gordon ; a captain
of his regiment confirmed the account of the Hottentots, and afTarcd me it
was an event whicli happened vciy fiequently. ' My tciiimony,' added
he, ' ought to have the more weight, as 1 had once nearly become myfelf
a viftim to this fafcination. While in garrifon at Ceylon, and amufing
inyfelf, like vou, in hunting in a niarfh, I was, in thecourfe of my fport,
fuddenly feized with a convuKive and involuntary trembling, different
from any thing I had ever experienced, and at the fame time was flrongly
attracted, and in ipite of myfelf, to a particular fpot of the maifh. Di-
refting my eyes to the fpot, I beheld, with feelings of horror, a ferpent of
an enormous fize, whofe look inftamly pierced me. Having, however,
not yet loft all power of motion, I embraced the opportunity before it
-kV3s too late, and faluted the repile with the contents of my fufce. Thi?
report v/as a talifman that broke the charm. All atcnce, as if by miracle;,
my convulfion ceafed ; I felt myfeif able to fly ; and the only inconven-
ience of this exr-aord'.nary adventure was a cold fweat, which was doubt=
3efs the effeft ot my fear, and of the violent agitation my fenles had UU'
dergrne."

*' Such was the accou-nt given rne by this ofScer. I do not pretend to
vouch for its truth ; but the llory ot the moui'c, as well as of (he {hrike, \
av^r to be a fadl."

The fame phenomena then have been obferved in Europe, Alia, and Afri.r
ca, as well as in America. It then we iorm our iudgmcnt from obferva-
{ion, the conciufion will be, that in every part of the earth, the feipent hai
displayed different power^ and faculties, from what have appeared in o;h.
sraaimals.

Remarks and CoKJe^ures on the above Accounts-
\. From the above accounts it can hardl\ be doubted, but that the v!=
per, the black, and the rattle fnake, have a power to afFeft biids, Iquir-
rels, and the human race, in an extraordinary and powerful manner ; fo
as to caufe them to approach within the reach of their devourirjj
jaws. To pliilofophers, who derive all their information from
their books, and to men who determine from theory and i^deni, the who'c
affair pafTes for vulgar delufion and follv : N^r will it. ever sppear pro-
bable to any perfon who is accuflomed to no other way of reafoniog,
than the metaphyfical method of determininfr fafis by realoningsa prion,
that nature has given to the ferpt nt very diiferent powers from ihofe
■which fhe has imparted to any other fpecies of animab. But it ccrtain'y
is not from the men of metaphvOral theory and fyfiem, but fiom tli*
careful obferveis of nature, th^t tiie moft important information is to be
cxpefted. And it will be dilficult to find any defcft ir» the obfcrvations
that have been mentioned, or any ciicumllancc that denotes them to hav-f
been delulive or iallacious. I muff therefore admit it as a well atteilcd
h&., that nature has imparted to the ferpenis mentioned above the fiogulir
ind extraordinary power of facination ; or atFetiing other animals -in fii*.i.
^raaancras to caulc them to approach witbia tiieir reach.

APPENDIX. 491

^ s. This power, whatever it be, feems to be exerted by means of the
?ye of the fnake. " The eye of this reptile, fays Mr. Dudley, (the rat-
felefnakc) has fomethinf; fo fmgular and terrible, that there is no looking
Aedfaftly upon him."* All the accouni.s agree that no uncommon effeft
ifi perceived, till the eye of the animal is fixed on tha: of the ferpent. It
fhould fctm frorr» Mr. Beach's and Mr. Willard's accounts, that the eye
of the fpeftator is no looner fixed on that of the fnake, than the moll lively
and beautiful colours are feen, in the moft engaging and enchanting torms,
in large rings, circles, or rolls : and that ihele circular appearances ot the
molt beautiful light and coIouTs are gradually diminilhing in their circum-
ferences— Hence the encircled animal is condantly taking irregular or
circular motions, within the circle of apparent light ; both of which be-
come more and more contra£led, till they are brought to a,centre or clofe
at the head of the fnake.

, 3. The operat.ion whatever it may be, takes away the fenfes, or ftupi-
fies the animal, on which the operation is carried on. This was the cafe*
and to a high degree, with all the perfons mentioned in the above ac-
counts. They found themfelves violently affefted, but new not what was.
the matter. At the beginning of the fcene they feemed apprehenfive of
danger, but foon loft all power, and all inclination, to make any oppoli' ion ;•
Nor was there, in a few moments, enough left of the rational or animal
powers, to reflect on their fituation, difcern their danger, con':rive a method
or make any attempt to efcape. Deprived of feofc and reafon they re-
mained fubjcdl to a power v/hich they could not comprehend or oppofe,
and yet in great and extreme diflrefi.

4. Can there be any fubtle efFluvia, poifonous exhalation, or flupifying
virus, emitted by the eye of the I'erpcnt, and received by that of the en-,
chanted animal, equal to, and producing the uncommon tffefls which have
been mentioned. This feems contrary to all the other apooarances of ani-
mal nature ; and yet the phenorhena feem to indicate luch a phyfical
kind of operation. The body of the boy at New-Jerfev was covered
with a violent fwcat. His head was affafled with a d'.zzinefs, and
pain : nor did he recover his health for fevera! davs. Mr. W: :ard esca-
ped before the fcene was completed ?nd f -und himfclf too mucii alT-fted
to fleep the next night ; but could not determine whether it. was owing to
the fright, or to a phyfical effeft on the nervous fyftem. In the lady at
Lanfmgburgh, the fafcination ilTued in a long fit of -ficknefs, which was
not cured in five years. Thefe are phenomena which feern not only to
denote phyfical operations, but fuch as were of a very powerful and extra-,
ordinary nature ;' and which feem to refemble what was faid of the bafa-
lifk by the ancients.

5. Whether there is any thing in the powers of other animals that re-
fembles this faculty in the ferpent, I am not enough acquainted with nat-
ural hiftory to determine. Some perfons have mentioned the Bog and the
Cal, as exhibiting fome appearances of a fimilar power; but; 1 do not find
any fufficient evidence in poof ot it. Nor do I know of any thing in na-
ture that approximates to a fimilaritv, except the refemblance in the ef-
ic6l which light appears to have on fome animals.

Some mfcCls wi.'l fly into a burningcandlc, and remain in the flame till
elieir wings are ccnfumed, and their bodies buined. The effeft of light
isalfo apparesit in fome of the birds. In a barn in which the fi^allows re-
fide in ,he fumnier, if a burning candle be carried in the night, the fwal-
iows will foon leave their places of reft, and gather round the light. The

» Phil. Tranf. No, 376, p. 293.

492 APPENDIX,

fidiertnen in almoft every country, frequently avail themfelve* of the fam«
difpofi ion ill fome fpccies of fifh ; andexpeft to allure them to their boate
or weapons by the light oF a lanthorn or fmall fire. The fportfmen in
fomc countries, efFcdl their purpofes by the refleftion of light. " There
is a method among fpocilmcn of taking larks by a net and looking glaffesi
■which they exprels by ihe name of Daring. Five or fix looking glaffes
are fo fixed to aftick.asto reflect the light upwards. Theftickin v^?hich they
are fixed is fo made as to revolve on its axis by means of a firing wound
round it. When tlie machine is thus twirled round, the li^ht is rcflefted
upwards by the mirrors in quick and conftant fucceflion, and to a confid-
crable extent. The bird is faid to be enticed or invited by the glim-
xnering of the light, till it defcends and lights near the looking glaffes, and
is then taken by the net. "f " Thelark catchers in fome countries," fays
Brvd.-^ne, " are fo dexterous at this maneuver, that with a fmall mirror they
throw the rays of light on the laik, let her be ever fo high in the air; which
by a ki[;d of facinuion, brings down the poor animal to the fnare."J

Such an effeft does not feeni to be altogether diflimilar to what takes
place in the facination of a biid bv a ferpent. The lad at New-Jerfey
faid that " at the inllantthe fnake fixed his eye upon him there appeared
fomething to flafh in his eyes, which he could compare to nothing more
fimilar. than the rays of light thrown from a glafs or mirror when turned
in the fun fhine ; he faid it dazzled his eyes Sac." Nor do the eyes of the
ferpent feem to be unfitted to produce fome fuch cfFeft. There is fome-
thing in the eyes of a large rattle fnake that is fo fierce, ardent, and penc<>
trating, thai it is painful to look upon them ; and we do in faft experi*
ence phyficaleff(.£ts, which to fay the leafl, are agitating and very uncomfor-
table.

6. Whence arofe the idea of any uncommon fubtiky or cunning in the
ferpent ? There does not feem to be any thing in the whole race, v^hich
has proved agrceabfe, ufeful, or beneficial to mankind. The higheft de-
gree of malice and danger wereexpreffed by the ancients, by the phrafe of
a ferpent that would not be charmed ; that is phyfically divefled of his
difpofition to bite,* And yet it has happened that this fpecies of animals
in almotl every country, has been coufidered as the emblem of fomething
wife or excellent.

Straboand Eufebius tell us that at Elephantina, the god that was fup-
pofed to reprefent the architect of the univerfewss adored under the fi=
gureofa ferpent. In Jiis hilloryofthe creation, Mofes reprefents the
feipent, as more fubtile than any head of the field, which the Lord God had
made. Thejewifh and the Chriftian theology both fuppofe that the
form of the ferpent was that whiih the tempter chofe, to give the greateft
probability, influenct", and fucccfs to bis defigns and attempts upon the hu=
Jttian race. The Saviour of mankind in his day, pave it as a command
to his dif^ciples, lobe wife as ferpcnts, but harmlefs as doves. The Egyp-
tians twined two ferpen's together round the globe, probably to reprelent
the equilibrium of the fyflem of the world. In India, the priefts put the
fcTpcnt into the hands of their divinities. By a circle made by a ferpent
^viih his tail in bis month, the ancients meant to reprefent eternity; by
being coild rooiid a flick, he was fuppo'ed to exhibit the god of health J
and we have msde him the repit-rentaiive of julfice and prudence. The
Jews, the Greeks and the Muflulmcn, have all viewed this reptile ia a

•f- Supplement to Chambers's Di-flionary. Artirie Dor inc.

X P.rvdone's tour through Sxily and Malta. Boflon Edit. p. 15^;.

"" Pfalm 58. 3, 4, 5. Jeremiah 8. 17. Ecclefiaftes 10, nt.

appendix; 493

lingular light ; and he has every where been ofed to denote fomething valu-
able and ufeful.

Whence arofe all this celebrity, and thefe ideas of his wifdom or cun-
ning ? And how came (o many different nations to affix the ideas of
wildom, power, and utility, to a race of animals that do not appear to be
either friendly, or of any advantage to mankind ? I cannot a(certain either
the origin, or the caule of the reputation that has been afTigned to a reptile,
which appears to be the molt ufelefs, odious and obnoxious, of the whole
animal race; nor can 1 detcimine whether the ancients were acquainted
with his (ingular powers. They have been obfeijyed in Europe, Afia,
Africa, and America ; but I do no' find any thing in the carlied writings,
thofe of Mofes or Homer, thaf intimate any (uch tufpicion. Homer fpeaki
of cucnantment, as fomething that was well k»iown and generally believed
in his dav. But it was not the eye, or a ferpcnt that was inverted with
this dreadful power ; it was the voice and the fongs of the Sytf.ns, that
carried unavoidable enchantment and deflruflion. But whatever were the
fentiraenrs of the ancients rcfpcfting this animal, I think it can hardly be
doub'ed but that he does now difcover a different faculty or power from
thofe of other animals. It is to be expeftcd that thefe powers fhould be
molt ft rong and apparent in thofe countries, where he exifts in the greatefl
eafe and vigor ; and has been tl.e leafl diftui bed by cultivation, or by man :
and to menhe evidence is convincing, that the ferpent has difcovertd fuch
powers in America. But I am fo far from comprehending this myf^eri-
ous article of natural hiftorv, that I muft refer the fubjeft to the inveftiga-
tion of men of better abilities and more information.

THE TWO-HEADED SNAKE.
NATURALISTS have been in doubt wfielher the two-headed fnake
was a monftrous produftion.or a diftinft I'pecics of ferpenis. Thefollow-
ing curious obfervation of Capt. William Baker, feems to decide the point,
Mr. Baker is well known to the Author, and there is no room to doubt
the authenticity, or the accuracy of his account.

In Aufruft I 763, in the town of Sherley, county of Middlefex, and flate
of Maffachuftrtis, 1 found a large v;atcr fnake, as I was mowing in a
meadow, formerly flowed by beaver. I took out of the belly of the fnake
fixty young ones ; they were about ten inches long, except one of them,
wh'.ch had two heads, four eyes, two tongues, and appeared to be about
two inches longer than any of the reft. I (hewed the fnake with two
■ heads, to a great many people ; but as I was but a boy, and at that time
lincw not that I could have prefcrved it in fpirit.s 1 did net attempt keep-
int^ it, which I am very forry for, as the fight of him would prove to the
world, together with this account, that the two headed fnake is of a mon.
ftious produftion. W. BAKER.

Rutland, Dec. 16, 1795.

No. V.

A Dilfertation an the Colors of Men, particularly on that
of the Indians of America. CHjiP. VIll. p. 237.
Coi-t-RS OF Men. — ONE of the mofl curious phenomena thai belongs
to the natural hiftory of man. is the qqIht with which he is marked. Every

VOL. L ' N 3

494 APPENDIX.

objpfl which we behold, appears to be of fome particular color. In ani-
mals thefe colors arc exlremelv various, different, and beautiful ; and
fometimes they appear to be variable. Man, like other animals, is diftiii-
guifhed both by a peculiarity, and by a variety of color. In Europe, he
appears while : In Africa, he is black : In America, his color is red : la
Afia, a variety of colors are to be found upon the human countenance.
There are other fhades and tin£l;ures to be found in each quarter of the
globe, befides thofe mentioned above : But thofe that have been mentioned
are the moft general and prevalent colors, under which man appears, in
the four general divifions of the globe.

Variety of Colors. — The tfloft diftinguilhing, permanent, and'
general colors of the human fpecies, and which are at the greateft extremes"
from each other, are black and white. Between thefe, or rather as differ-
ent degrees and variations of them, are all the other colors of the humaa
countenance: And they may be reduced to fwarthy, red, copper, and
brown. Black is the color of the Africans under the equator ; of the in-
habitants of New Guinea, and New Holland. A fwarthy color includes'
the Moors in the northern parts of Africa, and the Hottentots in the fouth-
ern parts of it. Red diftinauilhes the Indians of North America, The
fame, or perhaps more accurately a copper color denotes the complexion of
the Indians of Afia. Brown comprehends the Tartars, Perfians, Arabs,
Africans on the coaft of the Mediterranean, and the Chinese. The inhabi-
tants of the iflands in the Pacific Ocean, are alfo chiefly of this color.
Under this color is comprehended all thofe different fhades, which are de-
noted by olive, chefnut, and deep yellow. A lefs dark color, or brownijk,
will beft exprefs the complexion of the inhabitants in the fouthern partsof
Europe ; the Sicilians, AbyfTinians, Spaniards, Turks, and alfo the
Samoicdes, and Laplanders. White is the color of moft of the European
nations ; as Swedes. Ruffians, Danes, Englilb, Germans, Poles, &c. Ka-
bardinfki, and Georgians. It is obfervable that all thefe colors are inclu-
ded between the two extremes ; or rather they are different degrees or
variations of black and white.

Change op Color. — A change of <iolor is always produced by the
marriage or mixture of perfons of different complexions. Thus the off-
fpring of the European and the negro, is of a yellow complexion ; lefsr
white than the European, and lefs black than the negro ; or rather of a
dark cream color. This race are numerous in fome parts of Atrierica, and
are called Mulattoes. The offspring of an European and an Indian is alfo
of a cream color ; and more light than the mulatto. Thefe are called a- ^
mong the Spaniards Mejligos. The eff.°ft and operation of this change of
the original colors, in the climate of America, is always in favor of the
fairer complexion ; and never approaches towards, or ends in the darker
color. This change and alteration of color, when it is left to its natural
tendency and effeft, is extremely flow and moderate in its operation;
and it is not until after many years, that the full effeft is produced. In
theSpanifh fettlements, this mixed race has f6 multiplied as to form a
confiderable part of the inhabitants : And the feveral ftages of variation in
this race, with the gradual alteration of fhade until it ends in the European
complexion, have been well afcertained, and are now perfectly well under-
flood. Thofe of the firft generation arc confidered and treated as negroes
•r Indians, In the third generation the Indian color difappears. It is
not until the fifth defcent that the deeper black of the negro is loft. At
Jlie end of thefe different periods, the offspring can no longer be diftin-
^uifhed from the European ; but is cocfidcred as fuch, and entitled to aS

APPENDIX. 495

thtir privilege*,* — In this change of color, produced by the mofl power-
ful of all natural caufes, the mixture of perfons of difFertn' complexions ;
fo gradual and flow is the operation, iha: the black muft be (ubjcdt to five
divifions, and the operation muft be continued through five generations,
before the color is completely changed.

Seat of Color. — That the different colors of the human fpecies
are feated in the (kin is very apparent. The (kin confifts of three folds or
coverings. The firft is a very fine and tranfparent integument, and is white
in people of all colors. The fecond is a cellular membrane, differently
colored in different perfons. The third is alfo white. It is in the fecond
of thefc, that the color is feated. In black people, a Very able anatomiftf
obferves that the ficin is much thicker and larger, than in white ones ; the
cellular membianf: in the latter being a thin mucus, but in the former a
thick membrane. In whites this feat of the color is tranfparent, and ci-
ther totally deprived of vefTels, or only furnilhed with a very few ; as the
yellow color appearing in jaundice, vanifhes on the caufe of the difeafe be-
ing removed, which is not the cafe with ftains from gunpowder, or fimilar
•aufes. — Hence, he obferves, three caufes may be very readily affigned,
■which will operate to deftroy the pelucidity of the fkin, and jive it a
brown color, and render it thicker. Thefe are the heat of the fun, the
accefs of air, and naflinefi. And in general any thing that operates to pro»
duce or to deftroy the pelucidity of the fkin, will tend to vary and change
the color of the human body.

Color connected with Climate. — Among the caufes which
may affeft the color of the human body, it has been generally fappofed
that the influence of heat or climate, has a confiderable etfcft. Concern-
ing this influence or connexion betv/een color and climate, the following
observations may be made.

1. Different colors are beft fuited to different climates. In all the
plants and animals which are (pread over the face of the earth, there is
lomething by which they are peculiarly fitted to the climate and country,
ill which they are olaced. One kind of vegetable requires a great degree
of heat : Another flourifhes the beft in a temperate and cold country. It
is the fame with animals. Some are fitted tor the heat of the torrid zone.
O. hers require the fcvere cold of the frigid zone, to give them th«r
greatert perfeciion. To all thefe animals, nature has given the proper
clothing; which admits of no other variation than what the feafons of the
vcar require. — Man is an animal made for every climate : Inftead of be-
ing formed for the torrid or frigid zone, he can live, multiply, and ar-
rive to his proper perfection, in any climate : And it is left to his owa
rca'bn and induftry to provide himfelf with fuch clothing, as his condition
may require, in every climate through which he may pals ; or in which
he may lojouin. And yet there is fomeihing in different m^n, which
qualifies and fits them for one climate, better than for another ; and that is,
color. — The man whofe color is black, is better fuited to the extremp
heat of the hoiteft climate, than any other of the human race. l^s
has been lona known and oblerved in the climates of Ameiica. The ne-
groes of the Weft India iflinds, in the Spanifn dominions, and in the ftateg
of vicorgia, and South Carolina, are found to bear the extreme heat of the
(ummer, better than the white people. On thecontra.-y, the negroes in
the northern ftates of America are more tender than the white people, lefs

* Voyage de Ulloa, I. 27. Robcrifon's Hifl, .'\mcr. II. 369.
-f Doftor Hunter.

496 APPENDIX.

able to bear the feverity of our winters, and more apt to complain, fufK;.,
and freeze with the cold— The white men are the reverfe of tliis They
bear the fevere winters of Canada, and RuiTia, without much difficulty or
fufFering : But in a hot climate they become fickly, 3nd fail fooner th3r\
the negroes. Several colonies of wliite people have fubGded in the tor-
rid zone in America, more than two centuries; And yet they cannot bear
the heat, like theorigiiial inhabitants, or like the negroes. The one is
apparently beft fuited to a cold, and the other to a hot climate. And
thefe differences are as apparently owing to their color, for they do not
appear to be connefted with any other caufe, or circuinflance. Different
colors therefore in the human fpecies, are certainly bed adapted, fitted
and fuited, to different climates,

2, There IS a tendency in climate to produce the color which it re- ,
quires. Animal heat is derived but little from the fun, or from the at-
inofphere; but chiefly and mainly from original conftitution. The de-
Itgn of covering and clothing, is to detain and prefcrve the heat of the an-
imal body, in its natural fituaiion, degree and quantity ; and to prevent ara
extreme wafte or difperfion of it. Black readily receives and abforbs the
heat of the animal body ; and in this way tends to exhauft and difpcrie it.
White rrfle£ls and repels the rays of light and heat more than any other
color, and thus prevents and oppofcs their palTage ; and in this way, tends
to prefei wc and detain the cooflitu'ional heat of the animal body. Hence
the covering, which nature has alTigned to the earth in cold climates, is
fnow : By its color it becomes beff of all adapted to prevent the heat
from flowing out of the earth into the atmofpheie. And hence the cover-
ing of mofl ar-iimals in thefcvereft feafon, and country, is generally white;
the color which molt of all prelervcs the heat of the ' animal body, and
prevents its flov;ing out. In conformity to the fame law of naiurc, many
animals change their color at the approach of winter; and from black,
brown or grey, become white. Thisisthe cafe with the rabbits, toxcs,
bears, &c, at Hudfon's bay, RufTia, and Sibeiia. From the darker colors
•which they bear in fnmrner, they turn while at the approach of winter ;
and remain fo. until the rctutn of fpring. In fuch cafes, climate appears to
have a powerful and a fudden operation, to produce the colors ic reciuires.

The change of color in man, is more flow and gradual : It is howevcf
1 certain and apparent. The white men who are much expofed to the heat
and rays of the fun, and to the iisfiiience of the wind, in hot fealons lofe
their whitenefs, and become brown or red. The inhabitants of - Europe
■when they fettle in New Spain or in the Wcftlndia illands, foon loofe their
Avhitenefs, and become of a brownifh yellow. The Europeans who re
fide long in thcEeafl Indies, becoirie of the fame cream colored complex-
ipn. We have an accurate account of the efTect prociuced by climate in
South America, by Dr. Mitchell : '' The Spaniards v. ho have irihabitcd
>\merica under the torrid zone for any confideroble time, are become as
dark colored as our native Indians of Virginia, of which I myfeif have
J)een a witnefs."* An account from A irica, is equally authentic and ac-
curate. " There are feveral other fmall Portuguefe fettlements, and one of
fome note at Mitom.ba, a river in Sierra Leone. The people here called
Portuguefe, are principally perfons bred from a mixture of the firft Por-
tuguefe difcovcrers with the natives, and now become, in their coniplex-
ion, and woolly quality of their hair, pe;l(£f negrof s, retaining however,

a fmattering of the Portuguefe language."t Here the operation of mix-
>

* Phil. Tranf. No. 476.

■f AecouDt of the trade of G. Britain 19 Africa, by aa African Merchant

APPENDIX. 497

tpre by marriage, is detcrminfd by climate in favor oF ine African color.
There arc fimilar accounts of the complexion of the Portuffaefe, who fet-
tled at Senegal in 1400 ; and of thole wlio are fettled on the coalt of CoD'-
go. The varying coinulexion of the Jews is aifo very remarkable. De-
fcended from one itock, their teiigion has prevented their marrying with
other people. In Britain and Germanv, they are white. In France and
Tuikey, thty are bt own. In Spain and Portugal, their color is iwarthy.
In Syria and Chaldea, the olive color prevails. In Arabia and Egypt,
they are of a tawny or copper color.* Among every nation they feem to
partake of the color of the climate. And one of them, Tudela, relates
that his countrymen in Abyllinia, have acquired the daik complexion of
the original natives.

It is obfervable that all thefe change.s, are from a light to a more dark
complexion. Similar changes have not been obferved in the negroes, that
have been brought into the temperate climates of America. It fhould
feem therefore that t!ie tranfuion is eaficr from white to black, than from
black to white ; or that (he negro color is the moll dcf ply imprcired 06
any ; or that heat has a much more luddeii and powerful cffeft than cold.
It ought however to be obferved that it is only in v.hite and lair complex-
ion;, that thefe changes of color would foon become vifible, or apparent to
common obfervation. In a dark or black countenance, fmall and gradual
variations of fhadf would not be obferved. It would not be until the ne-
gro had lolt much of bis former color, that the chan;;e woulfl be generally
noticed. But I much lu!pe£l that there is fomething mote curious in this
fubjedf than has been imagined : That fome of the colors of the humaa
countenance, are m their own nature, co'ors which aie lefs changeable
than others. It feems to be univerfally the cafe, that the black produced
by fcorching, or by an intenfe heat, is the molt durable of any color what-
ever : And that white is more foon and eafily fullied, and changed, than
any of the other colors, with which any obj;6l is marked.

3 It feems to be a confirma'ion of ihefc remarks, that the co'ors of men
in dilii^rent climates, are in taft fuch, as thofe climates feem to reqairc.
Uiid::r the equator the da^kelk Ibade, perieft black takes place. Tlie ne-
gro of Africa is placed in the molt intenfe heat, that ;akes place on this
globe ; and the color of the negro is the deepeft and darkefl biack, that
any where appears on the human countenance, .-idvancing from the equa-
tor towards the pole, the color of the human fpccies acquires a complexion
inorc and more light ; until having pelTrd throtigh all the intermediate
gradiitions of (bade, it terminates in the whiteneis oi a temperate and cold
climate. There are indeed variations and exceptions fr<»;Ti this, and from
every other genera! law of nature. Iritermixrutes of diflcient nations, mi-
gration. differences in food, difeafe, cleanlinefs, health and many other local
circumflances and caults, will produce thefe. As fuch variations are not a-
greeable to any general law of nature, they are neither evidences of, or ob-
jeftions to futh laws; bu' derive their origin from local and particular
caufes. — Rut it is impollible not todtfcern the general regularity, lenden-
.cy, and effi'ft of the laws of nature, refpefting climate and color. The
moff intenfe black, is the general color of man in the hotted part of the
globe. Where the heat is confiderably abated, the black abates' too, and,
the color becomes fwarthy. To this fucceeds the red or copper color of
the eail and weft Indians ; fuited to that part of .'\lia, whcie the Indians
have been long lixed and permanently fettled. Tiie next giadation i.s

» Buffon Nat. Hift. Vol. III.

49g APPENDirX.

brown, comprehsading the olive, and dark yellow* A lighter fhad«, ef
a brow approaching nearer to white, diliinguilhcth a climate ftill more
remperate. The whole terminates in the coldnefs, and in the whitenefs
of the European and northern nations ; beyond which nature has not pro-
eeeded. And where a country is of great extent, as India, and China, the
color of the fame people is dark in the fouthern. and more fair in the
northern parts. Whatever particular exceptions and deviations may be
found, the general law of nature refpeftin,» rolor, is marked with as much
regularity, uniformity, dcTign, and order, as any other law of nature, vyhicl?
applies to the vegetable ot ^ninrial v/orlj.

4. This operation and effcft of climate muft be estremc'iy gradual and
flow. Whatever thofe caufes are which have fe;ved to form and fix the
colors of men, they are caufes which have been in operation, from the be-
ginmng of the creation oi God. If there were any differences in the natu-
ral conllitutions of men, fo as to form what has been called different races,
thofe differences muft nave been original ; and therefore as ancient as thofe
fuppofed races of men. Iftheeft;ft has been produced by climate, this
cauie muft have been operating upon nations, ever fince their refidencc be-
came fixed m any particu'ar part of the earth. The fame remark will ap-
ply to any o;her fuppoled caufe. Be it what it may, upon every natioa
whofe refidence has been fixed, it muft have been operating ever f:nce their
{ituation became eftablifhed. With regard then to all tbofe nations which
have long rf (ided in the fame part of the globe, their colors muft be view-
ed as the efFeft of caufes, which have been in operation either from the be-
ginning ol the creation, or from the time when they began to rcfide in
their prefent fuuations, or countries. What then ought to be expefted, if
any race of men whofe color was already formed, fhould be removed to a
country, where the tendency of climate was to reverfe the forrper effefts,
and change the color which had beeri long fixed ? — Could it beexpefted
ehat the power of climate to change a color long formed and fixed, could
be exerted irK lefs iime than it had required to pf^odLiccand to eftablifh it ?
Would it require lefs time to remove an eftablifhed color, and to produce
s new one, than it did to produce and fix the firft t So far as wc can de-
jive any information from the ordinary courfe of nature, wc cannot coo-
ceive that the color of the negro, could be changed into that of the whi'e
jnan, in a lefs period of time, than it had taken, to produce and eflabli(h(
that color at firft. It is much more probable, that a longer period of time
would be neci ffary to eradicate the firft, and produce the fecond, than was
jeqoifite to form the complexion at firl}. Thofe then that mean to inquire
sarefully into the operations and efFc6fs of nature, muft put on the patience
of the antiquarian, and learn to compute tirtie with the aftroiiomers. The
impatienc? of many leads them 10 txpeft that climate (\iould undo that ia
three or four generations, which nature has been conftaatiy at wor^ to ef-
left, from her firft origin until now.

I will venture to propofe a conjeftural eftimattoo, not becaufe I think it
approaches very near to certainty or decifion, but becaufe I cannot find
any thing upon the fubjeft, that has a greater appearance of probability.
The mcft powertul of ail the caufes, which have been found to change the
eomp'exion of man, is that of mixture by marriage. In the negro color,
this requires five generations, and five divifions, before the Ahican black-
yiefs is loft in the European whitenefs ; In the lefs dark complexion of the
Indian, it requires three g<nerations, and thiec divifions, to produce ti»e
fame efleft. The time of one of thefe generations may be eftimated at a-
^out twenty five years. The time then wftich nature requires to efteft ths,
change ot color from thi:i caufe, would be one buadred ^d Ivtiaty fevs

c

APPENDIX. 499

yiiri, for the negre, A thirty fecond part of the whole color, upon thi»
fuppolition is done away by fome other caufe, fay that of climate If the
whole effeft had been produced by ciimatr, and in this proportion, the
time neceffary to have completed theeffeft would have been tout 'hou'^anj
years. By the fame method of conjeftural eftimation, the tim 'icctTary
to reduce the Indian to the European color, would be fm hundif-u years.
The difficulty and uncertainty attending this method of forming an eiti-
thatc, is not that it can give the period of time too long, but that i' if-
fumes what cannot be afcertained by oblcrvation. It is not, and probably
cannot be made certain by obfervation, that a thirty fecond part of the oe-
j^ro color is done away by climate, or that it is done away ac all, when
the negro complexion is fupp >fed to b- completely changed. It is not
probable that if a thirty fecond part of the daik. color remained, it could
be readilv diftinguifhcd by the eye. But uncertain as the data are, they
are fufficieiu to fhow that the operation of climate, in any view in which
the matter can be confidered, is extremely gradual and flow.

g. This influence of climate, whatever it is, may be increafed, or it may
be rcaided, tiy the operation of other caufes. The color of the fkin may
be affpfted and changed by other caufes, as well as by heat and cold. If
there be any thing in the common method of living, in being conftantly
expofed to the !un and wind, in the ufe of paint and oil, or in habitual
cleanlinefs or filthinefs, fh'at tends to darken, or to render the complexioii
more fair ; this, may operate cither with or againft the influence of cli-
mate, according as the nature and tendency of fuch cuftom or praftice may
be. And we oug.ht not to afcribe that to, or make that any objeftion to
the influence of climate, which may be derived fro/n other caufes. Thus
in Gre"nland, the influence of climate is in favor of a fair and white com-
plexion ; but in the conflant application of greafe, oil, and filthinefs, to
the human body, there is another and a more powerful caufe to effeft it*'
color than climate; and which, a£ling in conft.int oppofition to it, gives'
to the countenance a Tallow or dirty olive complexion. Stich caufes may
aft with a force and pov.'er, equal or fuperior to that of climate ; but they
are not equally permanent, univerfal, or invariable. There is no error
more common, or more apt to deceive us in contemplating the natural
hillory ot man, than to afcribe that to one caufe, which is derived from or
produced by the j :int operation of many. Whatever tends to render the
fkin more or lefs tranfparent, will affeft the color of the human fpecies, as
certainly as the climate in which they are placed.

Color and Climate of the Indians of America. — There is
CO fubjeit in philofophy lo well underflood, but that a number of qucf-
tions a.nd inq'iities may be propofed refpefting it, which do not; admit of
2 fatisfaftory or complete anfwer And this will always remain to be the
(iafe, bec.iu'e our itnowledge of nature will never b" equal or commcnfu-
ra!e to the fubjctl. But there is one inquiry arifing here, wliich demands
our careful attention : How does the climate and the color of the Indians
of Ameiica agree with this, or with any. other fuppofed law of climate ?
The Indians were fpread over the whole continent of America : They
dvselt in every habitable climate from the equator to the pole : And the/
were of the fame color in every place. In tba great -ft heat under the equa-
tor, and in the fevrretf climites of Canada and Hudfon's bay, they were of
the (ame brownifh led.* This appears to be the proper Indian color in

* It has been cuflomary lo write in this language, but we are fai'
frorh being certain that it is either accurate, or proper. It has been takew
for granted, but it has never been examinedi whether the Indiaii cclcr i*

500 APPENDIX.

every part and climate of America. Arc the climates of America difFerent
fromthoreol ihe other continent ? Or whence is it that t':ie connexion
■which takes place beiwctn clirxia'cs and color in the o'.h.'r parts of the
globe, is not to be found amoup the Indians ? This curious pHencjiiienon
'has occasioned much ii.quiry and fpeculanon : Can thecau'esof it be found,
in the obfervaiions which have been already mentioned ?

1. The Indian color is v^^j-yevidentl) the m;xiu.e of black and red. The
color, which an intenfe heat produces, upon all bodiea to which i' is ap-
plied, is blatk : And it is as naiuial to expeft it fhoi'l.-' have this eff-ft uoon-
the human bodv, as upon any orher bodi-'S. The color wMc is prodijced
upon he human bodi, by living m'Jch in 'he open air, txpo'cd t > »he in-
fluence of the fuii and wind, is red. The white men who livf; in fuch a
fituatiort, alwavs conira£l this coior. Tha' pail of their bodies, wiiieh is
expofcd to the influence oFthe iun and wind, bfcotncs of a reddifti color :
or as it is commonly exprefled, tliey become tanned, c fun hurnt ; that is,
they acquire a color formed by a mixture of red and white. Thii influence
of the wind and fun, in producint; the red complexion, is found to be
much the fame in fummer and winter : The while man is nearlv ao nnucH
and as foon tanned, in the winter as in the fummer It fecms thi'iefore
that the production of this red color, does no' depend upon climate, heat,
or cold, but upon h^^ltil ; the habit of livirjg in tiie open air. and having
the body expofed to the cor:(lant influence of the fun and wind. The In-
dian color then feems to have been formed by the mixture of two difFerent
colors, black and red ; and to have been derived from two powerful cauf-
es, climate and huhit : Cau'es diilintl from one another, a: d the latter pro-
ducing peailv the fame cffcfl in every climate.

2. f his color of the Indians was probably complete! v formed, wheii
they firft came into .-Vmetica. They were of the fame color as the Indians,
and fouthern Tartars in Alia; and appear to have been defcended frohi
them. Their color therefore was completely formed and fixed, before
they came into America. This color feems to have beea derived from the
warm climate of .' fia ; and from the habit of iiving coiftaiuly expofed to
the fun, and to the open air. Tfie colorthus formed and fixed, they would
naturally convey to their offspring. ArdaStliere were no other people
with whom they could have any intercourfe, there could be no change or
alteration of color, produced by a rnix;;ure of parents of different complexr
ions. Their color therefore muH have been fettled, and uniform : And
the whole c if .-ft of population muft have been to fpread, propagate, and
preferve it. The ctfcft of climate then upi-n the Indian in America, would
hot be to produce and tonn his color ; but eiviier to preferve, or to change it.

the fame in every part of Ameiics. An accurate and inquifitive obferver,
M. de le Pinto, who ccmmand^d for fcveral years at Maiajroffa, a Fortu-
gucfe fettkmcnt in the interior parts of Brazil, where the Indians are nume-
rous, and nit altered by their intercourfe v/ith the Europeans, noted a dif-
ference in thtir complexions : " They are all of a copper color, with fomc
• divcrfity of (hade, not in proportion to their diflance from the equator,
but according to the dc^ife of elevation of the territory which they inhabit.
Thofe who live in a biyii countiy arc fairer than thofe in the marfhy, low
lands on the coai'b." — Robertlvo's Hilf. Amer. I. 460. On the northwelt
part of the Atnfrican continent, it has been found, that " the complexion
of the Indians is Jifjfltcr than that of the fouthern Indians, and fomc of
their women have 'oiy cheeks." — Morfc's Geog. 1. gg. lo^j. Edit. 1793.
Of the Indians of Paraguay we have this account : " They are generally ot
an olive compltxion, iome darker, others lighter, and fome as while a-'
■'"i" Spaniards." — Ibid. p. 8;.

APPENDIX. soi

; 3. No part of the climate of America was fufficiently hot, to change it
into an iiU'. nftf black. It is only in the moft intenfe heat of the hotteft'^clU
matc, that the extiemf black of the negro is formed. The climate of A-
mcrica under the line falls far (hortofthis. "While the negro on the
coall of Afiica is fcorched v.'ith unremitting heat, the inhabitant of Peru
breathes an air equally mild and temperate, and is perpetually (haded un-
der a can )py of grey clouds, which intercept the fierce beams of the fan."*
The climace in every part of the torrid zone in America, is much more
mild and temperate than the fame latitude in Africa or Afia. In a coun-
try where the hotted ciimaie is fo moderate, it is not to be expefted that
the Indian color (hould be changed into extieme black. No part of tfie
climate was hot enough to produce this : And any fmall variation in the
Indian countenance, would not be readily or eafily difcemfd.

4. The change of color moft naturally to be expcfted would be of the
contrary kind, not to black, but to white; at lealt to a lighter iTiade than
what took place under the equator. If there be any influence or tendency
in extieme coid to produce a fair and white complexion, this might
.have been expefted ; for there are no colder climates upon the face of the
eatth, thap thole of the northern parts of America. But v/hatevcr might
be the infiuence of the climate to produce fuch a complexion, the Iiidians
made ufe of feveral certain and conftant methods to prevent it. One, was
their conftant habit of living and wandering about in the woods, expofed
to the full foice of the winds and fun : Another, was their extreme and
perpetual filrh, and dirtinels : A third, was their habitual ufe of grcafe and
paint. It was their univerlal cullom to anoint and rub their bodies with
the jreafe and oil of the bear, beaver, mufkrat, and other animals ; and to
mix the gre^fe with diifercnc kinds of paints, and gums, This prafticc
was probably defigned to proteft the body againft the extreme variations
of heat, cold, and moiftute, to which they were conftantly expofed. Nor
could they have provided any better defence againft heat, cold, rain, and
inTe^ts, than thus to cover their bodies with a glutinous kind of varnifti*
And in doing this, they took a fure and a certain method, to fix and pre-
ferve their color from any approaches to a white, or to a fair complexion.
When extieme dirtinefs was added to the gteafe, oil, and paint, neither
climate or aiiv otiicr eaufe could produce a fair complexion, until thefc
were removed and difuled. Thus in the Iiidian cultoms, and method o£
guardingthe body againft the effefts of climate, the Indian himfelf was ta-
king conilant care that nothing fhould change the, color of his fkin, or make
it more traniparrnt.

' 5. Where thefc cuftoms have been difufed', the Indian color has bccr»
found to bl' changeable. It has never been decided whether the Indian
color isexaftly the fame in every part of America. No accurate compari-
fons have ever been made between the color of the Indians in the hotteft
parts under the equator, and triofe in the remote regions of Canada and
Hu'ifoa's bay. Their colors have iiever been compared Co any accurate
and known ftandard ; and fmall variations in a dark complexion, would
not be a matter of common oblervatio'n. But whether the Indian color be
the fame in tvery part of America, or not, it is certainly more changeable,
and not fo deeply fixed, as that of the negro. Many families of the Indian
tribes are to be found in fevsral of our towns. Some of thefe are at Cape
Cod, and Pviiodc llland : A confiderable number of them, are at Natic,
^nd Stockbridge, in MafTachufetts. Their habits and manners of life aic
different from thofe of the Indians, who rcftdc ia the fotefti, T.hey live

* Robertfon's Hift. America, I, 253,

VOL. I, O 3 '

502 APPENDIX.

in houres. have a fixed place of refidenccand have much difufed the cudoiii
f of paints and oils ; and their complexion differs much from that of the
tribes who yet remain in their ancient and original ftate. I'he redrlifhcaft
is abated. The tawny afpcft appears more dull, pale, and clouded, The
crimfon mixture has difappeared, and they have approximated much near-
er to the color nf the hunter among the whites, than the tribes who retain
their ancient cuftoms and habits. This change of color in the Ind.ans who
have lived long amonf; the whites, is apparent to commcn obfervation.
And it is apparently derived from the change in their manners, cuftoms,
and habits. This change of the Indian complexion, clearly fhows what
has been the effcft of cuftom and habit.

6. In the northern parts of America, there are permanent phenomena,
which will (crve alfo to (how what has been the effeft of climate. The
Efquimaux in the northern parts of America, are a people remarkably dii-
ferent from the Indians, which occupy the other parts of ^he continent.
There is not much room to doubt, but that they were derived from the
r.orthweft parts of Europe ; arc the fame people with the Greenlanders,
Laplanders, Zemblans, and Samojeds ; and like them, were defcended
from the Tartars in the eaft. Their defcent then was probably from the
fame nation as the Indians. But while the Indian tribes have by cuftom,
preferved their red complexion, the Efquimaux have acquired a fallow
olivt. or brownifh color ; more inclining to the European whitenefs, than
to the brownifh red of the American. To what caufe can we afcribe the
lighter color of this branch of the Tartar race, but to their more northerly
and frozen fituation ? They have adopted the fame cuftoms and habits, as
the Indians. They rub and anoint their bodies, with greafe, the fat of the
feal, and train oil ; and are ai filthy as the Indians. Not only fo, but they
drink the fat of the feal, and th«ir train oil, and efteem it the moft pieafant
liquor. Can it be doubted what muft be the effeft upon their color ? Ic
operates againft the influence of climate, in that part of the earth where
climate operates moft powerfully to produce a white complexion. The
influence of the two caufes is divided, but the balance is in favor of cli-
mate, and the European complexion. Thus in two very extenfive and
numerous kinds of men, derived from the fame nation, climate, cuftom,
and habit, in one part of America, have produced or preferved the dark
crimfon of the Indian ; but in the moft northerly and frozen parts of the
continent, the fame caufes have eftablifhcd the fallow olive color of th«
Efquimaux, more refembling the European whitenefs, than the Indian red.
Upon a careful attention then, to the colors and cuftoms of the original in-
habitants of America, the ohenomena feem to confirm the general connec»
tion which has taken place between climate and color, in the various parts
of the other hemifphete.

This part of the natural hiftory of man, feems to be but very imperfeftly
nnderftood. The great difiiculty that attends it, is the want of ancient and
accurate accounts. It does indeed feem to be pretty well determined, that
Uie color of the white man is eafily; and foon changed, to a dark complex-
ion ; And that the color of the Indian is changeable, into a lighter com-
plexion. But no relations which I have feen afford the fame information,
refpcfting the changes of the African black. Nor can I find any phenomena
or accounts which ferve toafcertain the matter, and put it out of all doubt,
whether tliere has been any change in the color of the negroes, which havff
been brought into any part of America. ?s or is it certain that any fuch appa-
lent alteration of the negro color, ought upon any hypothefis to have been
e.xpefted, in the courfe of four or five generations. And yet, until fome
«( thefe fafls fhall be afcertaioed, we can hardly expe6t that the laws •£

APPENDIX. 50a

Mture which apply to this rubjedl, will be undeiflood. Impaiisnt of tiio
fatigue of inquiry, collefling and compaiing phenomena, lome philofo-
phers, with preat precipitation, have pretended to decide it by fyftcm. To
folvc ail difficulnes it has been declared by fomc, that there are diircrcnt
creations, and races of men : That the white man is one kind, the negro
another, and the Indian a third, &c. The bufincfs of making fyftcms lor
nature, has feldoin anfwered any other purpofe, than to difcoverthe prc-
fumption of thole, who have made them. It has proved fo in this cafe.
If tlicre had been as many local creations as there are individuals, this '
•would not afford us any information, or enable us to advance one llep, to-
wards a folutiou of the probk'm refpefting the colors of different men.
Still the inquiries would remain, wliai is the feat of color in thcfe different
men ? Why do tlie rays of light appear of fuch different colors, upon the
fkins of the one, and the other ? Wiiy docs on? color appear moll com-
mon in a hot, and another color prevail the moll in a cold clinutc ? And
how is the change of color produced by marriage and mixture ? Inlleadof
amufing ourlelves with theories that are attended with no evidence, and can
be of no ufe, what is wanted in this fubjeft, is careful and accurate obfer-
vations. Tiiefe will indeed require a long courfe of time, and abilities
very different from thofe, which decide by metaphyfical difputes an4
{peculations. But it is the only method, in which we have any reafoa to
expert our knowledge of this fubje£l will be promoted.

No. VI.

GARRANGULA'S SPEECH :

A fpschncn of Indian policy ^ eloquence, and manners. Chap.

IX. p. 275.

IN the year 1684, De la Barre, governor of Canada, marched into
the Indian country, with an army of feventeen hundred men. His objeft
■was to dellroy the five nations. Sicknels and famine wafted his army,
and he wilhed to conclude the campaign with a treaty of peace. To ef-
fe£l his purpofe, he made a fpeech to the Indians, in which he informed
them that he came into their country, with no other view than to make
peace ; that his mafler was offended with their former condutl, but would
forgive them, if they would oblerve the terms that he had prefcribed ; but
if they would not fubmit to his prefcriptions, he had orders to declare war
againll them, to burn their caftl-s, and put them all to death.

Garrangula, an Onondago Sachem, heard thefe threats with contempt.
He knew the diflreffed ftate of the French army, and that it was wholly
out of their power to execute their defigns. He walked five or fix times
round the circle, and then anfwered the French governor, who fat in an
elbow chair, furrounded by his officers, in the following manner.

" YONNONDIO,* , ■

' I honor you, and the warriors that are with me likewlfe honor
• you. Your interpreter has (inilhed your fpeech ; I now begin mine.
» Mv words make hade to reach your ears; hearken to them.

* Yoniiondio vii% the name, by which the Indians always addrefffd the
governor of Canada ; QoiUar was their phrafe, when fpcaking to the gov-"
emor of N.ew X'Jtk.

$0i APPENDIX,

' Yonnondio, you muft have believed, when you leff Quebec, that the

* fun had burnt up all the foiefts, which render our couiilry inacctfljble to*

* the French, or that the lakes had fo far oveifl^-vn the banks, that they"

* had furrounded our caftles, and that it was impoflible for us to ^et out of

* them. Yes, Yonnondio, furely you muft have dreamt fo, and the cu-
'■ riofity of feeing fo gteat a wonder, has brought you fo far, Now you

* are undeceived, fi nee that I and the warriors hero prefcnt, are comr to
^ affuie you, that the Senecas. Cayugas, Ononriagas, Oneydoes, and Mo-
' hawks, are yet ali\e, I thank you in their nanjc, for bringing back into
Mheir country the calumet, which your pr^'dectilor received from their

* bsnds. It was hapny for you,' that you left under ground that muidcr-

* ir.g hatchet that 1)35 been fo often died in the blood of the French. Hear,

* Yonnondio, I do not flecp, I have my eyes open, and the fun, which en-

* lightens me, difcovcis to me a great capiain at the h; ad of a company of

* foldiers. who fpeaks as if he was oreatr.inE;. He lays, thai he only' came

* to the lakr to hnoke on the great calumet with the Onondaj^s. But

* Gairans;ila (ays, th;it h*" if es tht contrats. that it W£s to knoLk ihem ori

* the head, if hckriefs had not weakened ihe arms oi tiie Ftenrh.

♦ I fee Yonnondio laving in a camp of fick men, whole lives the great

* Spirit has fav.d, bv ii flidbng this fitbnefs on them. Hear, Yonnondio,

* our women had their clubs, our children and old mcniiact carried their

* bows znd arrows iato the h'?rr of youv camp, if our warriors had not

* difarmed them, ard kcp-. fiiem b^ck, when ycur mtfT-'oger, OhguelFe,
•came to our cafflrs. It is dot.c. and I have i'aid it. Hear, Yoniio.icio,

* we plundered none of tlir Frrech, bi;t tbt^fe that cariiecl guns, powder,

* and ball to the Tv ighi wi'-s and Ch'tfaghicks, bec?;iie tiioie arms might
« have coif us our 'ivf-s Herein we 'ollow the example ol ibe Jciuits,

•who (t.<ve all the kegs of rum hrou.nht to our calllcs. left the drunken hi-

* dians Ibould knock them on the head. Our warriors have uol beaver
•"enough to jjay for all ihek arms, 'hat thiy have taken, and our old men

* are not airaid ot thi- w.>r. This belt prefcrvts mv words.

' We carried the Eijgiifh into our lakes, to trade there with the Uiawa-
' vi-as and Quatoghics, as the :'5.d iron flacks brought the French !o ourcai'-

* ties, to carry on a trade, which the Englifh lav is theirs. We are born
*' free ; we neither depend on Yonnondio nor Corlear.

♦ We may go where we picafe, and carry wuh us what we pleafe ; if

* your allies be your flaves, u(e them as fuch,- commund them to receive

* no other but your people. This b:rlt prfArvcs my words.

< We knocked the Twi|:htwics and Ciiiflaghicks on the he^d, bccaufe

* they had cut down the trees of peace, which v/cve the limits cf our coun-

* try. They have hunted beavers on our lancls ; they have stlfd contrary

* to the cuflorrs of all Indians ; for they left none or the be?vers alive, they

* killed both male and female. They brought theSatanas into the coun-

* try, to t^ke part with them, after they had concerted ill ilefigns againfl

* us. We have done lefs than cither the Engliih or French, that have u-

* furpcd the lands of fo many Indian nations, and chakd ihem from

* their own country. This belt prefcrves mv woids.

♦ Hear. Yonnondio, what I fay, is the voice of all the five nations ; hear

* what they anfwer.; open your ears to what they fpi-ak. The .Senecfs,
'Cayujxas. Onondagas, Oneydoes, and Mohawks, fay that when they bti-

* ried the hatchet at Cadaracqui, (in ihepreftncc of your predcccffor) in tha

* middle of the fort ; they planted the tree of peace in the lame place, to

* be there carefully preferved, that, in place of a retreat for foldiers, thai
"^fort might be a rendezvous for merchants ; that in place of arms and aij-
°"3Kunition of war, beavers and merchandize fhould oeiy esier the/c»

APPENDIX. «^0S

« Hear, Yonnondi., take care for .be future, that fo great a number o£
« foldiers as appear there, do r^ot choke the t,ce of peace plar.tcd tri lo
c fnlail a for,. It will be a great \oU, if, af.cr ,t had (o eaftly taken root
. vou Ibould ftop its growth, and prevent its covcnng your co""^^^"^
. ou>s with its h-.nches. I affare you, m the name ol the hve nations.
Mhatour warriors fea!l dance to the calumet of P"«"oder us leaves,
. and mall remain quiet on thdr matts, and (hall never dig up the hatchet,
. tdl ch».r brother Yonnondio or Corlear (ball either jo.ntlv or feparately
« endeavor to ..tack the country. ,^hichthe R'^^^ Spi.u has gwen to our
. anccftors. Thi. b-U prele>v.s my words, and thi. other, the authority
« which the Bve nations have givtn me.

Crrran.ula then addr=fled '^imf.it to .MonHeor La Mam, the interpreter.
. Tak^ cotra^e,' faid he, ' Obgueffe, you have fpir>t, fpeak, explain my
. words, forget nothing, tell all your banhren and inec.ds fay to Yonnon-
. dio, vour governor, by the mooth of Gar.angula. who loves you, and
. df rJs >ou to accept of -his preie.. ol beaver, and take P-' -J^^ rr,e m
«• mv feaft, to which I invite you. This prefent of beaver .5 tent to Yon-
< nondio, on the part ot the five nations."*

No. VII. .

M^mment of Lord Vifcount Ho^e, in Wejlminfter Ahhe^.^
Chap. XII. f. 406.

THIS monument contains a fioure of the genius of the province of
Maffachu'^rts Bay, in a mournful pofture, lament.n^r '.he fall ot this hero,
and the family arms ornamented with military trophies. Beneath is llic
foiiowiuiT infcripiion, lo large charaders : , , , j r,i .

The Piovuice of Maffachufeits Bay, in New England, by anorderottli-
Great a,.d General Court, bearing date, February '!t,i759' caufcd this
monument to be erefled to the mem(*iy ot George, Lord V.lcount Howe,
Brigac'ier Gcncal of his Majelty's forces in North America, who was n.m
TaK 6th. i 758. on his march to Ticonderoga, m the 34h year of his age ;
inieftimonv of the fenfe they had of his fervices and K.iluary virtues, and
01 tiie affeaion their officers and foldiers bore to hu ccmoiand.

He lived refpeaed and beloved ; the public regretted hislols; to lus
family it is irreparable.

Weaminaer Abbey and its Curiclitics, p. 95.

No, VIII.

Monument ereBed to the memory of General Wolfe, in Weji.
minjier Mhey. Chap. XIII. p. 423.

THE (ubiea is the tragic {lory of the General's death in the very
Biomen'. of viaoiy. He is reprefented in the la(t ^2°"*^^ "^ ^''P:^',';g ^^;^'
•irm, with his hand clofing the wound whicn the ball that killed hi«i

% Smith's Hift. New York ; firft edition, p. 50.

^06 APPENDIX.

had made ia liis breaft, and falling iato the arms of a grenadier, who
catches and endeavours to fupport him on his haunches, while with
one hand he holds his feeble arm, and with the other points to glory in
the form of an angel in the clouds, holding fortli a wreath ready to crown
Lim. On the pyramid, in relief, is the faithful Highland fergeant who
attended him, in whole countenance the ligfonow at the mournful fight oi
l^is dying mailer is fo powerfully and pathetically expreiTed, that the moft
infenfible human being cannot look upon him, without, in fomc fort, Ihar=
ing in his grief.

This monument does equal honor to the artift who defiirncd it, and the
fculptor by whom it was executed. Every part is mafterly. The lions
that relf upon the bafe, and ihc w'olue's heads that ornament the. flanks,
are animated ; but above all, th.e alt-relief that decorates the front, and
reprefents the landing at Quebec, conveys fuch a lively view of the horrid
jocks and precipices which the foldiers had to cHmb, and the failors to
furmount with the cannon, before they could approach to attack the ene-
my, that one cannot tell which moll to admire, the bravery of the troops,
who could conquer under fjch difficulties, or the art of the fculptor, who
could make a re prefentation fo llriking. The infcription carries no marks o^
ollcntation, but fimply records the fafls in ilie following words :

To the memory of JAMES WOLFE, Major General and commande?
in chief of the Britifli land forcfs on an expedition againfl Quebec ; who,
after (urmouniing, by ability and valor, all obftacles o/art and nature, wai
flain in the moment of viftory, on the 13th of September, 1 750 :

The King and Parliament of Great Britain dedicate this monument.
Weftmiolter Abbey and its ^uriofitics, p. 57.

' No. IX.

^nfcription on the tomb of the Marquis dc Montcalm, at ^ehec.
Chap. XjjII. p. 423.

Tranflation of a letter from M. Bougainville, Member of the Academy oj
Sciences, to the Right Hon. Will «.i Put,

Sir,

THE honors paid during your miniftry, to the- memory of Mr.
"Wolfe, give me room to hope, that you will not dilappiove of the grateful
efforts made bv the French troops to perpetuate the memory of the Mar-
quis de Montcalm. Tiie corpfe of that General, who was honored with
the regret of your nation is buried at Ouebtc. I have the honor to fend
you an epitaph, which the Academy ot Infcripiions and Belles Lettrcs
have wrote for him ; and I would beg the favor of you, fir, to read it over,
and if there be nothing improper in it, 'to procure me a permifFi.jn to fend
it to Quebec, engraved in marble, to be put over the Marquis de Mont-
calm's lomb. If this permiffion fhould be granted, may! p.efime, fir,
Jo intri at the honor of a line to acquaint me with it, and at the fame time
10 fend me a pafTport, that the engraved marble may be received on board
an Englifn veffel, and that Mr. Murray, Governor of Quebec, may give
leave to have it put up in the Urfuline Church^? I a(k pardon, fir, for ta-
king off your attention, even for a moment, f j omiyour important concerns ;
but to endeavor to immortalize great r.icu and iJjudriyus citizens, is to do
^onor to you. i ara &c. BOUGAINVILLE.

^aris, March 2jth, 1761. -n

APPENDfX. 507

MR. PITT'S ANSWER.

Sir,

IT IS a real fatisfaftion to me to fend you the King's confent on
fuch an ioterefting fubjeft, as the very haiidfome epitaph drawn by the
Academy of Infcriptions at Paris, for the Marquis de Montcalm, which
is dcfired to be fent to Quebec, engraved on marble, to be fct up on the
tomb of that' illuUrious warrior. The noble fentiments exprefled in the
defire to pay this tribute to the memory of their General, by the French
troops who ferved in Canada, and who faw him fall at their head, in a
manner worthy of him, and worthy of them, cannot be too much ap-
plauded.

I fhall take pleafure, fir, in facilitating a defign fo full of refpeft: to the
tleceafed ; and as foon as I am informed of the meafurcs taken for cm-
barking the marble, I (hall immediately grant the paffport you defire, and
fend orders to the Governor of Canada for its reception.

As to the reft, be affured, fir, that I have a ju(t fenfe of the obliging
things faid to me in the letter with which you honored me, and that I
thirfk it a fini^ular happinrfs to have an opportunity to exprels thofe fenti-
ments of didinguifhed efteem and confideration v/ith which I have th«
honor to be, &c. W. PITT.

April lo, 1761.

THE INSCRIPTION IS AS FOLLOWS.

HIC JACET

Utroque in orbe asternum viflurus,

LUDOVICUS JO->EPHUS D£ MONTCALM GOZON,

Marchio Sanfti Vcrani Baro Gabriaci

Ordinis Sanfti Ludovici commendator.

Legatus Generalis exercitoum Gallicorum ;

Egregius et ctves et miles ;

Nullius rei appetens, prastcrquam vers laudis, ,|

Ifigenio felici et litteris exculto '

Omnes militiae gradus per continua decora emenfus.

Omnium belli artium, temporum, difcriminum gnarus.

In Italia, in Bohemia, in Germania dux induftrius.

Mandata fibi ita femper gerensllt majoribus par habcretur.

Jam clarus jaericulis

Ad tutandam Canadenfem provinciatfi miffus,

Parva miiitum manu hoftium ccpias non femel repulit.

Propugrtacula cepit viris armifquc inflruftifTima,

Alj>;oris, inediK, vigilarum, laboris patiens,

Suis unicp profpiciens, immemor fui ;

Hoitis acer, viftor manfuctus.

Fortiinam virtute, virium inopiam peritia et celeritate compenfavit,

lan.ninens cnlonia; fatum et confiiio et marau per quadriennium fullinuit,

Tandem ingentcm exercitutn duce flrenuo et audaci

ClafTemque omni bellorum moli giavem,

Multiplici prudentia diu ladificatus, .

Vi pertrattus ad dimicandum

In prima acie, in pvimo confliftu vuincratus,

Religionc, q^^am femper coluerat innitens,

Magno fuorum defidetio, nee fine hoftium mcerore extinflus eft"

DieXlVScptcmbr. A. D. MDCCLIX. ^-atis XLVIII.

Mortales optimidocis exuvias in excavata humo,

Qaam globus bclticus decidens difli!ienfque defoders^j

Galli lugentcs depofuerunt,

Et generolae holl:um fidei comircndsrunl.

#

$68 APPENDIX'

TRANSLATION.

HERE LIETH,

In either hemifphere to live forever,

LEWIS JOSEPH DE MONTCALM GOZON,

Marquis ot St. Verao, Baroii of Gjbriac,

Commendatory ot the Order o( St. Lewis, ,

Lieutenant General ot the French Army, ''
Not lefs an excellent citiaen than foldier;
■ Who knew no defire but that of true glory ;
Happy in a natural genius improved by literature ; •
Hailing gone throujjh the fevcral lieps of military honors^
With uninterrupted luftre.
Skilled in all the arts of War, :
The junftarc of times, and the crifis of dangers,
In Italy, in Bohemia, in Germany,
An indctatigable General,
He fo difchargcd his important trufts
That he feemed always equal to ttill greaterj
At length grown briijht with perils.
Sent to ftcure the Province of Canada,
With a handtui of men
lie iriore than once repulfed the enemy's forces>
And made himfelf mailer of their Forts
Replete with Troops and Ammunition,
jtnured to cold, hunger, watchings and labors, •
Unmindful of himfelf,
He had no fenlction but for his foldiers,
An enemy with the fierceft impetuofity ;

.A victor with the tendered humanity,

Adverfe fortune he compenfatcd with valor*

The want of llrengtti w'iih {kill and aftivity ;

And, with his counfel and lupport,

vor four years protrafted the impending late of the colony.

Having with various artifices

Long boifted a great army,

Headed by an expert and intrepid commander.

And a Fleet furnifhed with all warlike iiores,

Compelled at length to an engagrment,

He fell, in the firll rank, in the (iiftonfet.

Warm with tliofe hopes of Religion which he had always cherifHedj

To the inexprelFible lofs of his own army,

And not without the regret of the enemy's,

XIV, September, A D MDCCLIX. of his age XLVIII.

' His weeping countrytncn

Dtpofited the remains of their excellent General

In a Giave

Which a fallen Bomb in buriUng had excavated for him,

Recommending them to the generous faith of their enemies.

rut's Life, Vol. 11. p. 32!.'.

END OF THE FIRST VGLUMSTo

INDEX

A. .

Abircromhie general, takes command of the Englifh troops, 37a, Attempts
to ta^c ( tcondeo^a, and u rcpu'fed with great fljughicr, 40^ — \\2.
. Rma-ks on his mea'urts. 412. 413

Aiarw, his p.'ic/ and mfafui.s, 1^82, 283.

Agriculture, difficulties attending it in the colonics, 465 — 468«

Aix la Chapelle, pt-ace of. 3 8.

Al^^nquins, iheir counirv, 5,64. . . ^

Amlierjt goietal. laljcs Loiii(l> >iirg, 404. Proceeds with his army to Albz«
iiy, 417. I'jkcj oofftlfioti <jt Ficonderoga and Crown Point, 4!>.5. At-
tempts to proceed to Cinada, 434. Piepares forthe next campaign, 435.
Plan for the reduction ol Canada, 443. Arrives at Ofw^go, 444- Pro*
cceds down the river St. La Arence, ancj lands on the ifland of Montreal,
444 443- liffects the conqifft ol Canada, 450.

AnimJi, American and European compared, 130.

B.

Barre M. aims to dcllrov the five nations, 273. His army i;e(]uced to
grtat difir£(s. 274. Makes a fpeech to and treaty with the Indians, a7ji.

Biar account ot, joo.

£caver, natural hiitory of, 113 — 121.

Mre. bumble and honey bee indigenous to the country, 156.

iBi/ij, general account of, 134. Of pafTage, 1 35. Singmg, 143. Water
fowl. 144.

Braddotk general, appointed commander of the troops in the Engllfh colo-
itits 34g. Defeated and flain at Monongebala, 350— .352.

Braditreet colonel, defeats the Indians at Onondago river, 373, Takes C««
■ ria'aq.ii 'ir fort Frontenac, 413 —415.

Burnet governor, builds a fort at Ofwego, 328.

C.

Callieres M. his plan to fubdue the province of New York, and the Indians
of the five nations, S89, 290, Makes a treaty of peace with the five na-
tii^iis, 303

Canada, dilcovered and explored by Cariier, 152. Explored and fettled
by Champlain, V58 — 260. Reduced by the En?H(h. 261. Reftored t4
fiance, 262. Reduced to great diltrels, 266. 285. Fiiil a'temot of the
ingiilh colonies to reduce it, 295 — 299. Second attempt. 3^8 -gis-
Tnud attempt, 318 — 324. Surrehdeied to the Bfi.ifti' crown and go-
vernment, 450. Confirmed to the Britifh government by the treaty of
Paris, Feb. to, 1763 451.

Canjeau t^ken and p.underrd by the French, 333.

Cartitr Jimes, enters the mouth of Canada river, 252. Gives it ttie nanw
of St. Lawrence, proceeds as far as Hocheloga and calls it Montrcai|
252. P.ocei;diiigs at that place, 253 — 257.

tat mild, delciiption ot, 105.

Qatamtiunt, account ol, 104

Chanplain lake, accoiint ot 50. Difcovered and named, 266.

ihuii.plain Samuel, lails up the river St. Lawrence, 258. Founds th<t citya
{Quebec, 259 Explores the lakes Champlain trnA St. Sacrament, '260.
Engagemeii with the Iroqnoife, 260. Surr«Dd«rs Quebec 10 the ErgiillSi

VOL. I, PS

510 INDEX.

sSi. Refumes the government of U^e colony, afiz. Death and charac-
ter, 262.

Charleflomi or Nandxr Four, fort it,jatt8ckcd by the French, and defended
by S'pvcns. 458.

Chinefe cufloms and manrtcrs, fimilar to thofe of the Indians of Peru, 830,

C(er^), flate of in the Bntifh colonies, 456—458.

CYma/e. temperature of, 52— 58. Change of, 70 — 80. In Europe, 473 —
478

Col.-nies EngHJk, their diftrefTed Rate, 308. Great advantages from peace,

^ 332 ^ .

Colors of Men, diUertation on, 493 — 503.

Columbus, dilcovers America, 254,

Corlcar, faves the French and Indian army, 267.

Courcellcs, invades the Mohawks, 267. Builds forts at Sorel, Chambly,
snd Caddraqui. 269.

Crown Poi^^t, a fort erected at by the French, 329, Advantages rcfulting to
Canada I rom this meafnre, 329. Paflive behavior of the Englifh coio»
nies. 331. Taken p ifTefrion of by general Amhetfl, 425,

Cultivation, cffefts of, 75.

. D.

t)eerjie!df dcRroyed by the French and Indians, 305, Repels their attaths,

Denonville, M. governor of Canada, 275, Plan of operations, 276/ Mar-
ches into the Indian country, 278, Defeated by the Senecas, 278.
Makes peace with the Indians, 281.

Diejkau barm, commands the French troops in Canada, 3S0, Defeated
end taken pnfoner, 361. Remarks on his conduft, 366.

Dengan governor of Newr York, oppofes the French governors and influenccj
and affifts the Indians, 273. 274. 276. 279. 280. 288.

Dutch colony, on Hudfoh's river, cultivate peace aad commerce with the In-
dians, 270. Surrendered to the Engliih, 270.

E.
Evaporation., from the earth, 76, From the trees, 89.
Edward fort, built by general Lyman, 359,
Education, ftate of in the colonies, 463',
£rw?n^, defcribed, III.

Efquindux, iheir appearance and defcent, 233.

Expeditions iot the redufiion of Canada, firll, 295—299. Second, 30S—
313. Third, 318 — 324. Fourchj420— 424. 443. 4^».

F.
i^'^, account of, i45» Migrstion, 147. Immenfe numbers, 140.
Fortflss imraenfcj S;.-
Fefiljhclts, noted, 15O.-
Fox, account of, 103.
Frogs, found in the earth at Windfor, Caftleton, and Onion river, 152,

153. At Burlington, 479 — 482.
tiontenac count, fends an army aaainfl: New Hampthire, and another agalfifi:

New York, 291. Defends Quebec, 297, 298. Expedition againft the

Mohawks, 300.

G.
Garrangula, fpccch to De Barre, 275, 503.

INDEX. 511

tinfeng, in great plenty, 85.
Goofe wild, account of, 135.

H.

Hare, defcribed, 110.

Jhviland colonel, proceeds from Crown Point to Canada, and arrives at the

river St. Lawrence oppofiie to Montreal, 449.
Heat, of the atmofphere, 58. Of the earth, 73. Of the trees, 9^.
Hijlorical Witters, noted, 460, 461.
Hocheioga, vifited by Cartier, 252, Called Montreal, 253. State of the

Indians, and proceedings of Cartier at that village, 253 — 258.
Hoofic, fort at, taken by the French, 336.
Hojlilities, between the Englifn colonics and the fiVe nations, 272. Treaty

of peace and commerce, 272.
Eozue Lord, flain at Ticonderojra, 406. Monumeotal infcription, 505.
Hunter Mr, governor of New York, his meafures of policy, 3I3.
HuTons, their country, 26 J.

I. ,

Indians^ the original inhabitants, 160. Their appearance and countenance,
j6i. Employments and roeihods of procuring fubliftence, 162. Statf
" of fociety, 164. Nature, (orm, Urengih, fimeis, and effeft ot their civa
gbverpment, 16,5 — 170, Syltem of war, 170. Manner in which it was
carried on, 171. Treatment of prifoncrs, 173 — 177. Their (yltcm ot
"war fuited to their ftate of fociety, 177. Indian education, 179. Cal-
toms and manners ; gravity of appearance, 180. Treatment ok women,,
'jSi, Drefs, 183. loiene's, 184. Dirtincls, 184. Gaming, 18^.
Songs, 185. Dancing, i86. Beard, i88 Drunkennefs, 190. Cruel-.
ty, tyi. Health, activity, and bodily vigor, 195. Firmr.eis and to'rti-
tude of mind, 197. Political talents and virtues, 199. PrudLucc, %oo.
Eloquence, 201. Ilofpitalitv, 203. Honeily, 205. Morality, 205,
Intellcctualimprovements, 206, Infcriptions, 2«7. Ideas ot the Deity,
2f,8. Ofiheimmortality of the f<ml, 209. Virtues, 2io, Attainments
in the acts, 211. Population, the (late ot, 215. Caufes of its deficiency,
215 — 222. Averfe to all improvements, 222. Origin 225 — 236. An-
tiquity, eftimated by their extern, 237 ; by their languages, 239 ; by
their arts, 241. Progrefi of fociety, ^42. Its afpcfl in Mexico, 243 ;
in Peru, 2.^5. Tendency to difTolution, 240. Ravage the eallcrn pro*
vinces, 303.

I'fcB^, fpecies of, 156.

Jjhnfon m'onel. commands »n i!Xpedition againft Crotvn Point, 3,^8. De-
feats the trench troops under the baron Ditlkau, 363 — 366. Re-
marks on his r-mdui^, 367. Builds fort William Henry, 368. Rewar-
ded and piomoled by thr. Biitifh govcrr-ment, 390. Deieats the French
and captures the fort at Niagara, 435 — 437, /abilities and addreis in
nianaging the Indians, 437,438.

Ircquoifi, their country and power, 263. HofliHty to tl>e French, 265,
266. 275. 378. D:ilroy Montreal, 284. R>f(iuce the French to greac
diiircfs, 283. Policy and meafures wuh the En.-;lifh colonies, 285. 31'*.
Their fcntimcnts on the expedition againll Cnada, 299. Five of their
chiefs make a voyage to England, 3I5. Make a fpcecli to Queen .'\nnc,
3x6,317. Unfavorable fentimcnti of the EngliOi power and policy,
jj24. Joined by a fixtb nation, g??. Their obicrvati«ns on the conduct
pf the E.nglifti, 3.^6,

512 INDEX.

L.

J.au), courts of in the Britirti colonies, 4,58, 459.
Life vegetable, powers of in America, 97. Animal, powers of, 159,
Lcudon lord, takes the command ot thcTEnglifh troops in ihc colonies, 37^.
Anecdotes of. 379. Embarks on an expeditien againft Louifbourg, 381,
Retijihi to New Yoik, and engages in a contcll with the province 6f
MaffachufettSj-^oo, 401. Returns to England, 403.

M.

Magnetic obfervaticns, an account of, 474.

Malayans, extent of tltcir navigation and Icttlements, 232^

Mmi, not an animal of climate, 236.

Martin, defcribed, 109.

Medical pa7t of jlience, ftate of in the Britifh colonies, 459, 460.

McmphraHagog take, account of, £2.

Mink, defcribed, 142.

Mohaicks, attacked by the Frcnah, 267. 301. Roafl and eat the bodies ef ,
their enemies, 302.

Menckton co!or,el, commands anexpeditirn in Nova Scotia. J52— 354.

3f(J?;/(;a/.7?, takes Olwfgo, 375. Violates the aVticles of c^pi-uldiion, 376.
Meafures-with the Indisi.s, 382. Takes fort Witliawi Henry, 3<'5 — 391.
Barbarous violation ot the capitulation and maffucte of the garrifon,
391 — 398. Reflections on Montcalm's condcft, 398—400. Defeats
Abercrombie at Ticnnderoga, 412, Defeated by Wolfe, and dies ac
Qi:cbee, 423 Moriurofntal inlcription 506.

Montreal, named by Cartier, 253 Settled by the French, 86i. Deflroy*
e'^ by the Indians, 284. Surrendered to general Ainherll, 450.

Moofe, account of, 99.

MoKw/atVx, their dirtrtiion, a6. Altitude, 27. Caverns, 89. Origin of
■ fprii'ys arid fivers, ^i.

Murray gmtrat, fuffers much with hi$ armv at Quebec, 445. Defeated by
the French, 446^. Relieved by the Britifh licet, 447. f^roceeds up the
rivti St. Lawrence, and lauds on the ifland of Montreal, 447 — 448.

Mujlrat, defcribed, 122.

N.

Niagara, fortified by thf French, 269. Tajcen by general Johnfon, 435,

fitchblfon, commands an aimv againft Canada, 3C9. Puts an end to the

campaign, 31 1. Reduces Port Royal, 318. U'ges another expediiioa

jgaiiift Canada, 318. Commands the colony troops, 320, Diitandj

his army, 322, ^

O.

OJixfga Jcii, bnilt by governor Burnet, 328. FortiScd by general Shirleyj

357. Taken by Montcalm, 375. '

£/<r7, account of, \-a'/..

P.

farker colonel, defeated by the French and Indians, 383.
PMps William, commanuj a fleet and army againll Quebec, 2974
Fuherel, defcribed, 1 48.
figems, immcnfc numbers, 136 — 13?.

hit iViUiam, appointed fecretary of ilate to condufl the affairs of the BrU
^ilh colonies, 402. Extent and boldneft oi his plans againi) the French^

INDEX. 515

41 8 — 4*0. Judgment and wifdom in the appointment of generals, 438,
Policy and views of the court of France, 327. 343.
Political opinions in the colonies, 4681 469. ^

Population, fmall among the Indiansj 215. Caufeg of its deficiency, 2T5— <•

azf.. In the colonies: 464.
Porcupine, account of, 107.

PrieJisoT minionaries, their attempts and influence amongthe Indians, 271.
Putnam major, difcovers the dcftgns oi the cuetny againd fort Willian;

ijenry, 284, 2.85.

Quadrupeds, account of, 98. The enumeration imperfeft, 123. Origin,

125. Migration, 127. Species, 128. Magnitude, 129. Temper and

difpofition, 131. Multiplying power, 132.
Quiiec, founded by Champlain, 259. Taken by the Englifh, 261. Rc-

flored to the French, 26z. Attacked by the Englifh, 298. Taken by

Wolfe, 423.
Lu Quejne Jcrt, built by the French, 340, Abandoned by the French and

taken ^y the Englifh, 417.

R.

ftabhit, defcribed, jio.

Racoon, account of, to6.

Rain, quantity of, 62.

Rivers, account of, 39, Channels, 44. Form intervales, 44. EffcSi on

the rocks, 47.
Rockingham, Indian infcriptions at, 207.

I(ogers major, deftroys the Indian village at St. Francois, 428 — 433*
Ryjwick, peace of, 30a.

S.

Salmon Falls, fort at deftroyed by the French, 291. " •

Salmon 7rou^^ account of, 148- >

SiheneBady, deftroyed by the French and Indians, 292, 293.

Schuyler major, exeriions at Albany and Scheneftady, 293. Succefs agaicft
the French fetiiemPTits on the "river Sorel, 299. Aflills the Mohawks,
301. Gives information of the enemy's defigns again!! Decrfield, 304;
Influence with the Indians, 315. Makes j voyage to England with live
Indian chiefs, 31,5. Procures the Indians to adift in an expedition a> ,
gainll Canada, 320.

Science, (late of in the colonies, 461 , 462.

Serpents, fpecics, 154. Fafcinating power, 155. Diflertation on, 483—

493-

Shpley, Mr. plans an expedition againft Cape Breton, 333. Againft
Quebec, 335. Againft Crown Point, 336. Comminioner at Pans,
339. Exertions in fator of the Englifh colonies, 348, 349. Comman.
der in chief of the Englifh troops in North America, 354. Proceed-
ings at Ofwfgo, 3.55 — 358. Se'tjes the plan of operations for the next
campaign, 369. Superceded in the command, apd retires from the fcr«
vice, 372.

5«««i, account of, ic8.

Snow, cbfervations and experiments on, 64— 67. Dccrcafc of> 7^.

Snoii/ bird, defcribed, 135.

Sjirin^i ardTiven, their origin and formation, 3i-"38.

S14 INDEX,

Squirrel-^ account of, ill . • ,.

. Slanwix fert, ercfled at th? carryiog place at Oneyda, 412,
Stevens captuin, defends the fort at Number 'Four, 337.
Swallows, their difl'ereot kinds, 138. Place of refidence in winter, 140 — '"

143. Obferved at Danby, 140. At MiSdlebury,' J40. At Bridport,

141. At Hubbardton, 142,

.iv;, .r^ ■

T • • •■

Tkrfa^v, refemble the Americaa Indians in their features, 227. lathttir
cuftoms, 227 — 230.

7Vf«, their kinds, 81. Magnitude, 87. Number. 8S. Age, 89. Evapo-
ration, 90. Erainion of air, 92. Heat,g3. .Etfeds, 96. >'•»•',:,,•''■

Trois R'vierei, fettled by the French, 265,

Ticohder&ga,ioti at, built by ths French, 359. Attacked by Abercrombie,
4O4. _ Evacuated by the French, and taken poffeflion of by Amherll,

Union of the Englifh colonies, plan of, propofed at Albany, 344 — 348^,.
Utrecht, peace of, 325. Effctl on the Indians, 325,

Vaudrieul M, fends an army againft Daerfield, 304. MTifures foe the de«
fence of Canada, 32G — 322. Takes fort H.xjiic. 336. Governor gen- .
eral of Canada, 360, D.ilrefs and exertions in;delencp ot Canada, 439
—4^2. Surrenders the whole country to general Amiicril, 450.

Frgetahles, e(cn\et\t,S;^. Medicinal, .&<j.. j,,ioi;q{','

i'ermont,^.fv{iditi'qn,i.i. Boundary liues> 21. j Quaettiiy of laud, 24. Sml,
2j. Faceof'iho country, 115. . '"

W.

'yVJker Hjvendue, commai>ds a (leet-fpr the reduflioo of Q je.btec'^rQ.r- In'l
extreme danj;er with his fleet, 321. Ri-tutns to England, 322,. .

War, the firft betv.^cen the Lnglilh and French coloiucs., 28;)'. Origin.of
the colonial wars, 4>;2— -454. Moral effcfts, 4«;4. 4,55- liffefts on lAe
literary and fcieniihc cha-ratler and purfuits of tn».- einonies, 455. :

rVuJJiington Gcoroe, coinmilTioncd by the governor of Vir^nna-, 341. Oe-
feati, M. de juin.>nviile, 342. Dcleatetl by De Villier, 34a.

/I'm/H, defciibed, iio.

Weather, account of, 67-— 69. Change ol, y^.

Weft-river, Indian infcnptions at, ^oj.

Williams John, anecdotes of,, 3p$. ,.

iVtnds, their diret^ion, .59 --Ci .

'A'injlow colonel, engac;ed in an cxpediuou. in Nova Scotia, 333. Com-
mands an army at fort WUliani Henry, 376.

fVintkrop Join, commands an army againlt. Canada, 296.

IVnodckuck, account of, io8.

Wolf, account of, lOi,

Wolfe g-emrol, bravery at Louifb )ur>!;, 404. D.^ath. and conqucft of tht
city of Qicbcc. 42D--.424. Moniiin;nnl iiiG;ri;)'.ion; 503,

"''tf/c<nW,.defcriptioo or, ic6.

N a part of the imprefiion, the following errors were not correfted

Page

lint

lOI

13

137

»3

422

7

427

4

15

433

30

435

27

436

9

-491

18

miidnefs

Cendoa

SiUary

Burlcmagne

Burlemagne

radien

Venangs

Farguhar

ITfV/

read
wildBcfs.
Clarendon.
Sillery.
Burkmaquf.
Burlemaquc,
radeau.
Venango.
Farquhsr^
knew.

SE? 5 - 1533

L&r?ox Liiu<ARY '

)^njtct*oft Collfclitrn.