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Herkimer Democrat. (Herkimer, N.Y.) 1854-1855, November 28, 1855, Image 1

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If ERitltt E ]^ E M 0 C R iT. ' l^HET HEKKIHEE DEliOGSAT* ItipablisMd everj W edxesday MoKMJtlsiat l^erktTijer, Her^mer County, N> Y>,, an^ vyiU be lefta i tbe resid^ce of village subscribers fir §2,00 per annum. . IStail subscribers, $ 2 ‘00 per- 4n4iiTh, oi $i,50 m advance. ,> . , ' ; , , E&TS3 OF ADVEBTISISS. One :square or less, one Insenclop^.. .^1 00 Each subsequent insertion,. . . . . . . . 0 25 * ^One square ^ months,. . . Qna square S m o n ths,.. One square 6 months,.. One square one year,. . . . . . . . . . . . . .8 0( liberal deduction will be made to those #h o advertise by the year. BOOK -AND JOB PRINTING, in all its branches, executed with neatness and dispatch, and on reasonable terms. ..'i 4 00 00 From Putnam’s Magazine. k o v e m b E s . The wild November comes at last. Beneath a vail of rain; The night-wind blows its folds aside— Her face is full o f pain. The latest of her race, she takes The Autumn’s vacant throne; She has but one short month to live, And she must live alone! A barren realm of withered fields-; Bleak woods and falling leaves; Phe palest morns th The dreariest of e It is no wonder that she comes, Poor month! with tears of pain; For what can one sd hopeless do But weep, and weep again? T H E H U N T E R » B W I F E . placed in coninaand as TERMS—f 2 A YEAR. « and^ E w a llty ” $1 50 IN advance : TOLUiiE i i j : HERSIMER, ¥EDIESDAY’lOEFIIG, lOYEMBER 28. 1855. ITJMBER 13- Tom Cooper was a fine specimen of the North American trapper. Slightly but powerfully made, with a hardy, weather-beaten, yet handsome face, strong, indefatigable, and a crack shot, he was admirably adapted for a hunt­ er’s life. For many years he knew not what it was to have a home, but lived like the beasts he hunted—wandering from one part of the country to another in pursuit of earae. All who knew Tom were much surprised when he came with a pretty young wife, to set­ tle within three miles of a planter’s farm. Many pitied the poor young creature, who weuld have to lead such a solitary life ; while others said : \ If she was fool enough to marry him it was her own look out,” For near four months Tom remained at honbe. and employed his time in making the old hut he had fixed on for their residence more comfortable. He cleared and till­ ed a small spot of land around it, and Susan began to hope that for her sake he would settle down quietly as a squat­ ter. But these visions of- happiness were soon d'spelled, for as soon as this work was finished he recommenced his old erratic mode of life, and was absent for iveeks together, leaving his-wife alone, though not unprotected; for since his marriage, old Nero, a favorite bound W’as always left at home as her guard­ ian. He was a noble dog—a cross be­ tween the old Scottish deerhound a.nd the bloodhound, and -would hunt an In­ dian as Well as a deer or bear, which Tom said, was a proof that the Ingins Was a sort o’ warmint, or why should the brute beast take to hurt ’em, nat’- ral. like—him that took no notice of white men?” One clear cold morning, about two 3 *ears after their marriage, Susan was awakened by a loud crash, immediately succeeded by Nero’s deep baying. She recollected that she had shut him in the house as usual the night before.— Supposing he had winded some solitary wolf or bear prowling around the hut. and atTected liule notice of the circum­ stances ; but a few moments after came a shrill ivild cry, ivhich made her blood run cold. To spring from her bed, throw on her clothes ami rush from the hut, was the work of a minute. She no longer doubted what the hound in pursuit of. Fearful thoughts shot through her brain; she. called wildly on Nero, and to her joy he came dashing through the thick underwood. As the dog drew near she saw that he galloped heavily and carried in his mouth some large dark creature. Her brain reeled; she felt a faint and sickly shudder dart through her limbs. Bpt Susan was a hunter’s daughter, and all her life had been accustom e d to witness scenes of danger and of horror, and in this school had learned to subdue the natural tim­ idity of her character. With a po erlul effort she recovered herself just as Nero dropped at her feet a little In­ dian child, apparently between three and four years old. She bent down over him. but there was no sound or motion ; she placed her hand on his Ut* tie naked chest; the heart within had ceased to beat—he Was dead! The deep mark of the dog’s fangs were vis­ ible on his neck, but his body was im- torn. Old Nero stood with his large bright eyes 6.ved on the face of his mis­ tress, fawning on her, as if he expected to be praised for wliat he had done, and seemed to wonder why she looked so terrified. But Susan spurned him from her ; and the fierce animal, who would have pulled down an Indian as he would a deer, crouched humbly at the young woman’s teet. Susan carried the little body cently in her arms to the hut, and laid it on her own bed. Her first impulse tvas to seize a loaded rifle that hung over the fire-place, and shoot tbs bound, yet she felt that she could not do it, for in the lone life she led, the faithful animal seemed like a dear and valued friend, who loved and watched over her, as if aware of the precious- charge entrusted to him. She thought also of what her husband would say, when on his return he should; find his old companion dead. Susan bad never seen Tom roused. To her h© had never shown anything but kind­ ness ; yet she feared as tveli as loved him, for there was a fire in those dark eyes which told-of deep, wild passions hidden in his breast, and she knew that the lives of a whole tribe ©f Indians would be light in the balance against that of his favorite hound. Having securely fastened up Nero. Susan, with a heavy heart, proceeded to examine the ground around the hut. In several places she observed the im- pres^on of a small moccassined foot, blit not a child’s. The tracks were deeply marked-, unlike the usual light, elastic tread of the Indian. From this circumstance Susan easily inferred that the woman had been carrying her child when attacked by the dog. There was nothing to show why she bad come so near the hut; most probably the hopes of some petty plunder had been the. in­ ducement. Susan did not dare to wan­ der far from home, fearing a band of Indians might be in the neighborhood. She. returned sorrowfully to the hut, and employed herself in blocking up the windows or rather the hole where the window had been, for the powerful hound had in his leap dashed out the entire frame and shattered it to pieces. When this was. finished Susan dug a grave, and in it laid the little Indian boy. She made it close to the hut, for she could not bear that wolves should devour those delicate limbs, and she knew that there it would be safe.— The next day Tom returned. He had been very unsuccessful, and intended setting out in a different direction. “ Susan,” he said, when he had heard the sad story, “ I wish you’d left the child .where the dog killed him. The squaw’s high strain to come back a seekin’ for the body, and ’tis a pity the poor critter should be disapinted. Be­ sides, the Ingins will be high sartin to put it down to us; whereas if so be that they found the body ’pon the spot, may be they’d understand as ’twas an accident like, for they’re unkiinmoii eunhin warmint, though they aint got sense like Christians.” *• Why do you think the poor woman came here?” said-Susan ” 1. never saw an Indian squaw so near the hut before.” She fancied a dark shadow flitted across her husband’s brow. Ht made no reply, and on her repeating the ques­ tion, said angrily— ” How much should I know ? ’Twas as well to ask for a bear’s reason as an Ingins,” Tom only stayed at home long enough to mend fje broken window, and plant a small spot of Indian corn, and then again set out telling Susan not to ex­ pect him home in less than a month.-— ”.lf that squaw comes this way again.” IP a»irl ” na m»v he .«he will, list rmt duce him to leave his mistress; he re­ sisted passively for some time, until one of the yoiiiig men attempted to pass a rope round his neOk, to drag him a Way; then bis forbearance vanished; he sprung on his tormentor, threw him down, and Would have strangled him if Susan had not been present. Finding it impossible to make Nerd accompany them, they left without him, but had not proceeded many miles before he and his mistress were at their side. They begged Susan to return, told her of the hardships she must endure, and of the inconvenience she would bo to them.— It was of no avail ; she had but one answer; ” I am a hunter’a daughter, and a hunter’s wife.” She told them that knowing how useful Nero would be to them in their search, she had secret­ ly taken a horse and followed them. The party rode first to Tom Coop­ er’s hut, and there having dismounted, leading their horses through the forest, followed the trail, as only men long ac­ customed to savage life can do. At night they lay on the ground, covered with their thick bearskin cloaks; for Susan only they heaped up a bed of dried leaves; bat she refused to occupy it, saying it was her duty to bear the same hardships they did. Ever since their departure she had shown no signs of sorrow. Although slight and deli­ cately formed, she never appeared fa­ tigued ; her whole soul was absorbed in one longing desire—to find her hus­ band’s body ; for from the first she had abandoned the hope of ever again see­ ing him alive. This desire supported her through everything. Early the next morning they were again on th© frail. About noon as they were cross­ ing a small brook, the hound suddenly dashed away from them and was lost in the thicket. At first they fancied they might have crossed the track of a deer or wolf; but a long mournful howl told the sad truth, for not far from the brook lay the faithful dog on the dead body of his master, which was pierced to the heart by an Indian arrow. The murderer had apparently been afraid to approach on account of the dogs, for the body was left as it had fall­ en—not even the rifle was gone. No signs of Indians could be discovered save one small footprint, which was in­ stantly pronounced to be that of a squaw. Susan shewed no grief at the sight of the body ; she maintained the same calmness, and seemed comforted that it was found. Old Wilton stayed with her to remove all that now re­ mained of her darling husband, and his two sons again set out ’on the trail, which soon led them into the open prai­ rie, where it was easily traced through the tall thick grass. They continued riding all that afternoon, and the next morning, by day-break, were again on the track, which they followed to the banks of a wide and shallow stream. he said, ” as may be she will, jist put out anj’ broken victuals you've a-got for the poor critter; though may be she won’t come, for they Ingins be onkim- mon skeary.” Susan wondered at his taking an interest in the woman, and often thought of that dark look she had noticed, and of Tom’s unwillingness to speak on the subject. She never knew that on his last hunting expedition, when hiding some skins which he intended, ------ - . „ « to feed, on hi, roturn, he had o b .er«d i There they MW th. remains of a are. an Indian watching him, a..d shot him One of the brothers thrust hi! hand with as litlle mercy as he would baTeUfO\* the . s l . « wb.chwas ft>l> warm shown a wolf. O.. Tonv'e return to the i They crossed the river, and >\ ‘ho soft spot the body was gone and on the soft i »and on the opposite bank saw again damp soil »-as the mark of an i„,|ia„ the prtnt o f small moccastned footsle^^^^^ squa w s foot, and by its side a little Here they were at a loss; for Childs.- He was sorry then, for the prai™ grass had been consumed by one deed he had done; he thought of the 1 ol 'hose fearful flres so common to the grief of the poor widow, and how it 1 prairies, and in its stead grew short would be possible for her to live until. sweet herbage, where even an Indian s she could rMch her tribe, who were far, i a f a could observe no ‘race. They far distant, at the foot of the Kooky I 'Wre on tbo point ot abandontiy the Mountains: and now' to feel that thro-, Pursuit, when Eiehard the younger of ....... neans, too, she bad lost her child, | >he two, nailed hts brother » n«nntion - to Nero, who had ol hjs own accord put tho’ts into Ids mind that had never before found a place there. H e thought! left his mistress ‘ham.,^ that one God had formed the Red Man I ^he nnderstood what they were about. as well as the white—of the souls of the many Indians hurried into eternity by his unerring rifle; and they per­ haps more fitted for their “ happy hunt­ ing grounds” than be for ihg man’s heaven. In this state of mind, every word his wife said seemed a re­ proach, and he was glad again to be in the forest with bis rifle and his hounds, : The afternoon of the third day after Tom’s departure, as Susan was sitting at work, she beard something scratch­ ing and whinning at the door. Kero, who was by her side, evinced no signs of anger, but ran to the door, showing his white teeth, as. \vas his custom when pleased. Susan unbarred it, when to her astonishment the two deerhounds her husband had taken with him walk­ ed into the hut, looking weary and soil­ ed. At first ph« thought that Tout might have killed a deer not far from home, an.d had brought her a fresh sup­ ply of venison j but no one was there. She rushed from the hut, and soon, breathless and terrified, reached the squatter’s cabin. John Wilton and his three sons were )ust returned from the clearings, when Susan van into their comfortable kitchen; her long black hair styeaming on her shoulders, and her wild and blooidshQt eyes gave her the appearance of a maniac. In a few unconnected words she explained^ to them the cause of her terror., and im­ plored them to set off immediately in search of her husband. It was in vain they told her of the uselessness of go* ing at that time—of the impossibility of following a trail in the dark. She said she would go herself; she felt sure of finding him ; and at last they were obliged- to use force to prevent her leaving the bouse. The bound was trotting to and • fro, with his nose to the ground, as if en­ deavoring to pick out a cold scent.— Edward laughed at b*s brother, and pointed to the track of a deer that had come to drink at the river. At last he agreed to follow- Nero, who was now cantering slowly across the prairie.— The pace gradQally increased, until, oh a spot where the grass had grown more luxuriently than elsewhere. Nero threw up his nose, gave a deep bay, and start­ ed off at so furious a pace, that al­ though well mounted, they had great difficulty in keeping up with him. He soon brought them to the borders of another forest, where, finding it impos­ sible to take their horses farther, they tethered them to a tree, and set off wild ySH, fell to the ground* Thejr ran the spot Where ’j§hi l^y motionless, and carried her t© the borders o f the wood Where'they‘had that tnorhing dis­ mounted. Richard lifted Her on bis horse, and springing himself into the saddle, carried the almost hfelesS body before him. The poor creature never spoke. Several times they stopped, thinking she Was dead; her puiae only told the spirit had not flows from its earthly tenement. When they reached the river which bad been crossed by them before, they washed the wounds and sprinkled water in her face. This appeared to revive her; iind when Richard again lifted her bn his horse, he fancied he heard her mutter in Iro­ quois one word—“ revenged 1”. It was a strange sight, these two powerful men, tending so carefully the leing they had a ffiw hours before sought to slay, and endeavoring to staunch the blood that flowed from wounds which they had made! Yet, so it was. It would have appeared to them a sin to leave the Indian woman to die ; yet they fult no remorse at hav­ ing inflicted the wound, and doubtless would have been better pleased had it been mortal; but they would not have murdered a wounded enemy, even an Indian warrior, still less a squaw. The party continued their jourfiey until midnight, when they stopped to rest their jaded horses. Having wrapped the squaw in their bearskins, they lay down themselves with no covering but the clothes they wore. They wore in no whut of provisions, as hot knowing when they might return, they had tak­ en a good supply of bread'and dried ven­ ison, not wishing to lose any precious time in seeking food whilst on the trail. The brandy still remaining in their flasks they preserved for the use of their captive. The evening of the fol­ lowing day they reached the trapper’a hut, where they were not a little sur­ prised to find Susan. She told them that although John Wilton had begged her to live with them, she could not bear to leave the spot where everything reminded her o f one to think of whom was now her only consolation, and that whilst she had Nero, she feared noth­ ing. They needed not to pell their mournful tale—Susan already under­ stood it but too clearly. She begged them to leave the Indian woma» wUlr her. “ You have no one,” she said, “ to tend and watch her as I can do; besides it is not right that I should lay such a burthern on you.” Although unwilling to impose on her the painful task of nursing her husband’s murder­ ess, they could not allow but that she was right; and seeing how earnestly she desired it, at last consented to leave the Indian woman with her. For many long weeks Susan nursed her charge as tenderly as if she had been her sister. At first she lay almost motionless, and rarely spoke; then she grow delirious, and raved wildly. Su­ san fortunately could not understand what she said; but often turned shud- deringly away when the Indian woman would strive to rise from her bed, and move her arras as if drawing a bow; or yell wildly, and cower in terror be­ neath the clothes, reacting in her de­ lirium the fearful scenes through which she had passed. By degrees reason returned; she gradually got better, but seemed restless and unhappy, and could not bear the sight of Nero. The first proof of returning reason she bad shown was to shriek in terror when he once accidentally followed his mistress into the room where she lay. feet a hag of mon^y,* the remams of her late husband’s savings. The grate­ ful creature knew where it was kept; and whilst the Indians were busied ex­ amining the rifles and other objects more interesting to them, had carried it off unobserved. Waring her arm to show that all was now quiet, she Pointed in* the direction of Wilton’s 1 loose, and was again lost among the trees. Day was just breaking when Susan reached the squatter’s cabin. Having heard the sad stdry, Wilton and two of his sons started immediately for the spot. Nothing was to be seen aare a heap of ashes. The’ party had appa­ rently consisted of only three ,©r four Indians; bijt a powerful tribe being in the neighborhood, they saw that- it v/o«ld b© too hazardous to follow them. From this time Susan lived with the Wiltons., She was as a daughter to the old man, and a sister to Ids sons, who often said,—“ That as far as they were concerned, the Indians had never done a kinder action than in burning down Susan Ceoper’s hut,” THE PBJHTES’S TOlh.- Blow, y e stormy winds of winter; Drive the chilly, drifting snow; Closely housed, the busy printer Heeds not how the winds may h may blow. . Click, dick, his types go dropping Hera and there ----- ■ ’ Ash Every li Heaven send the useful printer •Every comfort mortals nee For our nights v/ere dull in winter Hera and there upon the case, s he stands for hours, popping Every letter in its place. jfnl printer }rtals need. again on foot. They lost sight of the hound, but still from time to time heard his loud baying far away. At last they fancied it sounded nearer instead of be­ coming less distinct; and of this they were soon convinced. They still went o» itv the direction whence the sound proceeded, until they saw Nero sitting with his fore-paws against the trunk of a tree, no longer .rooullMng like a well trained hound, but yelling like a fury. They looked uip in the tree, but could see nothing ; until at last Edward es­ pied a large hollow about half way up the tree. “ I was right you see.” he said. “ After all, it’s nothing bear, but we may as well shoot the brute that has given trouble.” , They set to work immediately with Mheir axes to fell the tree. It began to totter, when a davk object, they couM not tell what in ti»e dim. twilight, crawl­ ed fiaro its place of concealment to the extremity of a branch, and from tbeneo The next morning at daybreak W il-1 sprung into the next tree. Snatching ton and his two sons were mownted, 1 up the rifles, they both fired-together j and ready to set out, intending to take when, to thGir aitonishment, inttcad of Nero with them; but nothing could in- a bear, a young Indian squaw^ with « Susan missed h er; she searched around the but, but she was gone, without, having taken farewell ot her kind ben­ efactress. A few years after Susan Cooper Cno longer “ pretty Susan,” for time and grief had done their work,) heard late 'one night a hurried knock, which was repeated several times before the could unfasten the door, each time more loud­ ly than before. She called to ask who it was at that hour of night. A few harried words in Iroqueis was was the reply, and Susan congratulated herself on having spoken before unbar­ ring the door. But on listening again, she distinctly beared the same voice say. “ Quick—quick!” and recogniz­ ed it as the Indian woman’s whom she bad nursed,- Th© door was instantly opened, when the squw rushed into the hut, seized Susan by the arm and made signs to her to come ajvay. She was too muclr excited to remember then the few words of English she had picked up when living with the white woman. Expressing her meaning by gestures with a clearness peculiar to the Indians she dragged rather thadied Susan from the hut* They had just reached the edge of the forest when the wild yells of the Indians sounded in their ears.— Having gone with Susan a little way into the forest, her guld left her. For nearly four hours she lay there, half 'dead with cold and terror, not daring to move from her place of concealment. She caw the flames of the dwelling, where to- many lonely hours bad been passed, rising above timtrees, and heard the shrHl “ whoops” of ths retiring In­ dians. Nero, who was silently lying by hersidorsaddenly gave a low growl. Silently a dark figure came gliding among the trees directly t o the spot where she lay. She gave herself up for lost ;.'but it was the Indian womau XNTEBESTIBG 2TABB&TIVB. Prof. Moras, the inventor o f the mag­ netic telegraph, 'delivered, a speech at Ct. John’s recently, to which be gave an interesting reminiscence of his ear­ ly telegraph troubles. The bill for es­ tablishing a line, ha says, was before Congress, had passed the House and was on the calendar o f the Senate, but the evening of the last day had com­ menced with more than one hundred bills to bo considered before mine could ’o 0 reached. IVearied with anxiety and suspense, I consulted w’itb one of ray Sanatoria! friends | he thought the chance of reaching it so small, that ks advised me to sonsider it as lost. In a steto I must leavi you to imagine. I re­ turned to my lodgings to make my preparations for returning hom e the next day. My funds were reduced tq s fraction of a dollar. In ths morning was about to sit down la break’ fast, ths servant announced that a young lady desired to see me in the parlor. It was the daughter cf my ex­ cellent friend and College elassmate, the Commissioner of Patontc. She call­ ed, she said, by her father’s permission, and the exhuberance of h^r own joy, to announce tne jpassage of the. tele­ graph bill at midnight, but the moment before the Senate adjourned. This was the turning point of the telegraph invention in America. As an appropriate acknowledgment for her sympathy and kindness—a sympa­ thy which only a woman can feel and express—I promised that the first des­ patch by the first line of telegraph from Wasington to Baltimore, should be in­ dicted by her. To which she replied: “ I will hold you to your word,” ia about a year from t>at time the line was completed, and every thing pre­ pared, I apprised my young friead of the'fact. A note from her enclosed this despatch: “ IVhat hath God wrought?” These were the first words that passed over tha eieetris wires, oa the first completed line in America.— None could have been chosen more in accordance with my own feelings. It baptised the American, telegraph with the name of its author. It placed the crown of success and honor where it belonged. T a k in g a P o s it io n .— Joe Dovetail had a strong-minded wife. She looked upon Joe as a sort of necessary evil. One morning i tj-eating him very much as the lady husband on the North River Had we not the news to read. Sad would be the world’s condition If no printer boys were found, Ignorance and superstition, Sin and suffering would abound. Yes, it is the busy printer Rolls the car of Knowledge on, And a gloomy mental winter Soon would reign if he were gone. Money’s useful, yet the minters Fill not half so high a place As the buijy, toiling printers, Fing’ring type before the case. Yet, while type they’re busy setting, Oft some thinkless popinjay Leaves the counfry, kindly letting Printers “ whistle for their pay.!’ 0 , ingratitude I Ungracious! Are there on enlightened soil Men with minds so incai>aciousF A« to slight the printer’s toil? See him, how extremely busy, Fing’ring type before the case, Toiling till he’s almost dizzy To exalt the human race. .ong live the art of printing Here on happy Freedom’s soil, with joys that know no stintinj a guardian and be lei cordfoj And with joys that know H e a v ’n r e w a rd the Prii lu ’ ■gleamboat, who ventured to object to gome of her arrangeraenfs for travel, when she shut him up suddenly by tell- ing him, in the .hearing of a dozen pat- senders— “ Why, what is it to yutt ? If I had knovvn you were going to act so, I wouldn’t have brought you along.” But Joe and Mrs. Dovetail never traveled. They were always at home, though Job was rarely seen there or elsewhere. She had long trained him to th* habit of retiring under the bed when company called, and so familiar was he with that retreat, it was a ques­ tion whether in default of personal service, a warning to militia training would hold him unless left under the bed. as being hia “ last and usual place of abode.” During the stay of Mrs. Dovetail’s friends^ie occasionally thrust out his head like a turtle, but one glance of hi* spouse would send him under with cold shivers running up bis back. One day as she was hobnobbing over the fire with a friend and social glass, Joe thrust out his figure bead, and de­ fied the Shakes and frowns of his wife, till, growing valiant and desperate; he sang out— “ My dear, you may shake your bead just as much as you please, but I tell you as long as I have got the spirit of a tm n I will peep.” {D** To-Morrow is like a juggler that deceives ut, a quack that preteudi to cure us, and thin ice that will not bsar our weight. It is a fruit beyond our grasp; a glittering bubble that bursts and vanishes away; » wUl-fO’-the-wisp that leads many into th« mire ; and a rock on whieh many mariner* have struck and suffered shipwreck. It is an illusion to all who neglect the pres- r - - . . - _ ______ enthour, and a reality to.those only who came to her,, and! dropped at her who improve to-dayw THU BATTLE OF OEISKANY. In the spring of 1777, the celebrated Indian chief, Brant, invaded New York from C&nada, with over five hundred warriors, (yen. Herkimer, who com­ manded a small army of American troeps, held a conference with Brant in open field near Unadilla, and en- deavored to treat with the savages.— His attempt was unsuccessful, and af­ ter a stormy council the two forces separated, and Brant joined the British army, which, under command of Sir John Johnson and Coi. John Butler, was organizing at Oswego, preparatory to an expedition against the defenceless settlements of the Schoharie and Mo- hsH'k valleyo. It i* a stain upon the British char­ acter, that both in ths Revolutionary war and the contest of 181-2, the royal ivernnaent hirsd savage butchers to !iow their armies into the fleld.- Daring Indian outrages, many dreadful massacres, 'conilagratiea and butcheries were instigated, and allowed by British efficera and British agents. On this ce- Casio* the Indians were invited to a grand war-feast by the royal officers, and they then enlisted as enemies of the patriotic cause. The fort et Oswego was crowded with the grim sons of th© forest. They were furnished with gay dresses, new arms, and “ fire-water,” in abundance, and before the council concluded the great tribes of the Six Nations, mim- bering at that time several thousand warriors, entered into a firm alliance with the British, and they agreed to fight until King George had subdued bis rebellious subjects. Each Indian was then presented with a gun, toma­ hawk and scaiping-knife, ammunition, a piece of gold, and a suit of.scarlet clothes. In this manner England en­ gaged her savage allies. It was a shame­ ful bargain, but characteristic of the British government, noted for its ra­ pacity, cruelty and faithlessness. Rumors o f the British preparations reached the patriot settlements in Try- on county, and Col. Ganesvoort, who commanded a small, half finished forti­ fication, known as Fort Schuyler, im­ plored the aid o f Congress and o f the State of New York. But at that peri­ od the American army had enough to do with the forces of England in the field, and Congress could not sffi)r{| such assistance. On the first of Au­ gust, 1777, Gen. St. I^eger, Col. Butler, and Brant, with over seventeen- hun­ dred British and Indians, commenced their invasion, and soon appeared be­ fore Fort Schuyler. Col. Ganesvoort’s force numbered seven hundred and fifty men, .with a few small cannons. They had no flag! But this latter article was soon supplied; shirts were cut up for white stripes and sewed on the.red lining of a cloak belonging to one of the officers, and it was thrown proudly out to the forest wind. The siege instantly commenced.— Bombs were thrown into the fort, while the savages, with- their rifles, watched every opportunity for a shot at the be­ sieged. Every night they fljkd the air with horrible yells, and endeavored to set the works on fire. The Americans, 'however, were not intimidated. They refused to listen to St. L epr’s sum­ mons to surrender, and maintained a ' rigorous defens*. In ths meantime* Gen. Herkimer, a brave soiffier* rsUied the militia o f the surrounding country and was soon on his way to relieve the garrison, wBh a force o f sight hundred men. young- ! er, men endeavored t* supersede him in a father, and that, the troops should not d into unnecessary danger. Ac- igly, he advanced with great cau­ tion*.at,the sa^e, thne telling those who wrem so anxious to faq^ the enemy, t’qat he. spared they would be the first to re- , On the morning of August 6, the pa­ triots neared the fort Herkimer found means tq warn Ganesvoort of his ap- pi^oachi 'and requested vvhen he should hear tbekound of guns, to make a sor­ tie upon the British e.amp. tit. B- ger sent forvtard *a strong force to meet Herkimer, and form an ainbiisc-ade for his troops in a narrow, deep ravine.— It was about 9 o’clock in the morn ing, dark and sultry, when the relieving ar­ my entered the valley. In spite of the General's instructions, the ' vanguard were careless, or the ambuscade would have been discovered. One regiment of the force had entered the ravine, when Brant gaV.e the signal, end his warriors sounding the war-whoop, pour­ ed in .a galling volley from their rifles, and rushed forward, tomahawk in hand. A portion of the m ilitia, as H erkim er predicted, instantly broke and fled to the rear, but the General’s division res­ olutely held their ground, Herkimer was instantly wounded, and Col Cox and Capt. \Van Slyke killed at the first fire. Herkimer was carried beneath a beech tree, where, seated upon his sad­ dle, he calmly directed his men and cheered them on. The militia fought with desperation, receiving and giving no quarter. The balls flew like hail* and the war-whoop rang sin illy fljrough the forest. The patriots soon discov­ ered that the Indians wire watching until a man fired his gun, then tiiiv would rush forward.with the tomahawk and knife. To prevent this, two mili­ tia men stood behind a tree togetlrer, and fired alternately. W h ile the fight was going on. voile of musketry were heard in the rear.—• It was a sortie from the fort. No soon­ er did Col. Ganesvoort hear the roar of battle in the forest than he ordered Col. Willet, with two hundred men. to fall upon the British camp. Col. Willet executed bis commission in a -oplendid manner. Like a thunderbolt his little force burst upon St. Leger’s encamp­ ment, and the mongrel force of torits and Indians, and the few regulars pre§- ent, were scattered like chaff in the wind. The savages fled into tlie forest, while St Leger and Johnson barelj- es­ caped—^the latter without his coat. Twenty-one wagon loads of spoils— arms, ammunition, clothing, provisions, blankets, camp eqtnpage, money, valu­ able documents and papers—were haul­ ed into the fort, together with f,ve Brit- ish standards ! Willet did not lose a man, and was received in the fort with loud cheers. .The British colors were all hoisted upon the staff, under the rough American flag. Herkimer’s men, greatly encouraged, attacked the enemy with renewed vig- «r, and tbo iMdio-ms, bov-ing lo-.it noai-ly one hundred warriors and several chiefs, raised the cry, “ Oonah ! O o n a J i (tho signal of retreat)r and fled into the for­ est. The British soon followed, and after a terrible battle of si.x hours, the Americans were left masters of the field. The patriots lost one hundred and sixty men killed, and nearly the same number wounded, besides some prisoners. The enemy’s loss was muchi greater, though never exactly ascertain­ ed. The Indians were greatly disap­ pointed. Gen, Herkimer died of his - wound a few days after tli.e fight. His army having no head, and being unable to reach the fort, retreated. . Smarting under a severe loss, and, mortified at the sacking of their camp* St. Leger’s array attacked Fort Schuy­ ler with renewed vigor. Lying mess­ ages, to* the effect that strong reinforce­ ments were at hand, were sent by the royal commander to the fort, coupled with threats of massacre, unless it sur­ rendered. But Col, Ganesvoort scorn­ ed every threat and overture, continu­ ing his defense in the bravest manner. Day after day the siege continued. St. Leger began to approach by regular parallels, and employed the sap and raining system. With great danger. Col. Willet and Lieut. Stockeli succeed­ ed in passing the British hues, and hastening to Gen. Schuyler, implored aid for the besieged garrison. In fact,, the fort was becoming much straight­ ened, when suddenly the enemy broko up their camp and fled towards Canada, This sudden flight was caused by the arrival of scouts, with the inlelligenee that a strong force was close at hand to relieve the fort. This rumor was false, but the Indians believed it, and having become wearied with the siege, they at once started off. The panic was communicated to the remainder of the army, and they also began such a hurried retreat as to leave ail their baggage^ artillery, and spare arms,— The savages fell upon and-scalped many of their allies in the route. Thus was- Fort Schuyler relieved. Too G ood ’TO RE L ost .— The citizens of H - — n. Miss., assembled at a ehurc’n to celebrate the 4lh of July, by reading the declaration of Independence and Washington’s Farewell Address. An old gentleman, coming in rather late*- walked up near the pulpit while Wash­ ington’s Address was being read. The old cme listened until be heard, ” Against thein^duous wiles of foreign influence, I conjure you; fellow citizens, tbejealousj of a free people ought to be constantly awake, since history and experience' prove foreign influence to be one of th* most baneful foes to a Republican gov­ ernment.” When this was read, he. threw up his hat and left the house.— At th* door he robt some friends. “Gen­ tlemen,” said he, “ I came here to cele­ brate fourth o f July, and hear thoDec- . .. -IT , ------- \ But,” « iaration of Independence and Washing- ^h*y reprpaph«d him for to»’k Farewell Address read.”^ “ But,” being tqo cautiouf* and finally charged taidb^ “ the first thing I heard was the c%flant officer with Wing a ©oward that fellow in there reading d and * Wry. 0ol#* Gox and Paris arer* Know Nothing document, and r ll whip- loud in their taunts, hut Gen. Berki- him as soon as he leaves the house mer answered calmly, that h« •S u m p ter County Whig.

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