sonic Lodges of New York, of the sterling worth of Brant in rescuing many of their number when in distress.

Cases are given elsewhere, one of which is the case of Jonathan Maynard, esq., of Farmingham (near Boston), Massachusetts, formerly a member of the Senate of that State. He was actively engaged in the Revolution, and at one time was taken prisoner, and carried away to the western part of New York by the Indians, who were of Brant's command. He was condemned to death, and preparations were being made by stripping him, when Brant discovered the symbols of Free Masonry marked upon his arm, which led him to interpose and save his life.

A number of these incidents could be enumerated, but space forbids, and the subject has lost its thread. To return to proof:-Campbell's "Gertrude of Wyoming," dealt the heaviest blow in the following verses:

"But this is not the time," he started up

And smote his heart with woe-denouncing hand-
This is no time to fill the joyous cup,

The mammoth comes,-the foe,-the monster Brant,-
With all his howling, desolating band;—

These eyes have seen their blade, and burning pine
Awake at once, and silence half your land.
Red is the cup they drink-but not with wine:
Awake, and watch to-night! or see no morning shine!

Scorning to wield the hatchet for his tribe,
'Gainst Brant himself I went to battle forth:
Accursed Brant! he left of all my tribe
Nor man, nor child, nor thing of living birth:
No! not the dog that watch'd my household hearth
Escaped that night of blood, upon our plains!
All perish'd-I alone am left on earth!
To whom nor relatives, nor blood remains,

No! not a kindred drop that runs in human veins!"'

This stroke left a wound in the feelings of the family, and accordingly, John Brant, son of Thayendanegea, visited England, prepared with documents to prove his father's innocence. Mr. Campbell received him, and listened to his grievous tale until he became convinced of his error, and promised in the next edition, then soon to be

published, a correction. This correction was not made in the manner promised, but in a note as follows:

ure.

"I took the character of Brant in the poem of Gertrude, from the common histories of England, all of which represented him as a bloody and bad man, (even among savages), and chief agent in the horrible desolation of Wyoming. Some years after this poem appeared, the son of Brant, a most interesting and intelligent youth, came over to England, and I formed an acquaintance with him, on which I still look back with pleasHe appealed to my sense of honor and justice, on his own part and on that of his sister, to retract the unfair assertion, which unconscious of its unfairness, I had cast on his father's memory. He then referred to documents which completely satisfied me that the common accounts of Brant's cruelties at Wyoming, which I had found in books of travels, and in Adolphus's and similar histories of England, were gross errors; and that, in point of fact, Brant was not even present at that scene of desolation. ***** I ascertained, also, that he often strove to mitigate the cruelty of Indian warfare. The name of Brant therefore, remains in my poem, a pure and declared character of fiction."

Truly, as Colonel Stone has remarked :-"this is something like knocking a man down, and then desiring that he would regard the blow as purely a phantasy of the imagination."

Thus, has Brant, the mighty Mohawk, passed into history, but posterity will learn to tone down the irregular traits which have been ascribed to him, and when men, who in their day were glorified for fictitious heroism, shall have their memories buried as deep as the entombed slabs of Assyria, tradition will kindle a flame on the shrine of a man who was savage by name but a nobleman by nature.

-Gifford's Journal.

It would be only a sequence to allege that the expedition under Colonel John Butler was met by punishment. The Continental forces were not able to succor Wyoming when in need, but now, having learned of the disaster to the valley, General Sullivan was dispatched to punish the Indians for their greedy love of conquest.

In the interim, many matters of minor detail had been considered.

Upon the first reception of the disastrous news, Colonel Hartley, with his regiment, was ordered to proceed forthwith, with instructions from Congress to remain upon the frontier until further orders. He was soon joined by other companies, many of them militia, and among the officers who associated with him was Colonel Dennison, who, in the stipulated articles at Wyoming, had agreed not to serve again in hostility against the British troops. Dennison accompanied Hartley up the Susquehanna as far as Windsor, destroying several small Tory towns and Indian villages. This expedition aroused the people above, and soon force sufficient was gathered to compel Hartley to retreat. It is claimed by Walter Butler, in defense of the atrocities at Cherry Valley, that Dennison violated his parol. Dennison justifies himself on the ground that the Indians and Torys were first to break over the rules of war. A disinterested mind, at this day, in reviewing the

-The Revolt of Islam.

state of facts as then existing, can but conclude that both were guilty of every charge which is brought against them as far as the point of honor is concerned.

Colonel Zebulon Butler returned to the valley and built another fort which he occupied, until the following year, when General Sullivan entered the region and assumed entire command. The Sullivan expedition was purely one of retaliation. There was nothing to be gained by sending a force up the country against the numerous tribes of Indians, but the one feature of teaching the red-skins a lesson after their own tactics.

General Sullivan collected his forces at WilkesBarre, and by great energy succeeded in transporting the cumbersome luggage of an army of those days, besides the unwieldy artillery, up the Susquehanna as far as Tioga point. Here he was joined by General Clinton, who swelled the numbers to such magnitude, that Colonel John Butler, who was the victor at Wyoming, was now compelled to fly with nearly two thousand men, after making a creditable stand below Newton, on the Chemung River.

The country was flowing as with "milk and honey" the crops promised everything to the British and Torys, but the avenging host of Sullivan put everything to waste and desolation. Every Indian who fell into the hands of Sullivan's

command, even by surrender, was instantly despatched!! The reader will please note this fact. Miner gives the following account of the havoc made in the country:

"Not a moment of delay was allowed. Being now in the Indian country, hundreds of fields, teeming with corn, beans, and other vegetables, were laid waste with rigid severity. Every house, hut, and wigwam was consumed. Cultivated in rude Indian fashion for centuries, orchards abounded, and near a town between the Seneca and Cayuga Lakes there were fifteen hundred peach-trees, bending under ripe and ripening fruit all were cut down. The besom of destruction swept, if with regret and pity, still with firm hand, through all their fair fields and fertile plains. Deeply were they made to drink of the chalice they had so often forced remorselessly to the lips of the frontier settlers within their reach. Some idea of the extent of country inhabited by the Indians, the number of their towns, and the great quantity of produce to be destroyed, may be formed, when it is stated that an army of four thousand men were employed, without a day's (except indispensable) remission, from the 29th of August until the 28th of September, in accom. plishing the work of destruction. The farthest north west extent of General Sullivan's advance was to Genesee Castle, at the large flats of the beautiful river of that name."

It may be well to record as a matter of history, that William McClay, in April, 1779, offered a proposition to the authorities of Pennsylvania, to hunt the Indians of the Lackawanna and Wyoming valleys with dogs, saying that "a single troop of Light Horse attended by dogs, would destroy more Indians than five thousand men stationed in forts along the frontiers."

Sullivan penetrated the Indian region to the Lakes, in July, 1779, and burned eighteen of the villages, destroying crops, orchards, and in fact, everything upon which a human being could subsist. He returned to Wyoming, October 7th, having lost but forty men. The force then marched up the Lackawanna and from thence joined the main command of Washington.

This grand expedition had a salutary effect in teaching a lesson, but it did not prevent incursions of small bands. For three years afterward,

prowling detachments were on every hand, scouting the valley, and carrying away their victims.

Among the many who were kidnapped, was one who has passed into history, whose life has been studied with as keen relish as was ever a fairy tale :-that of Frances Slocum, who was carried away when but five years of age, by a party of Delawares, and who lived with them until her death, March 9th, 1847.

The Slocums came from Warwick, Rhode Island, and Jonathan Slocum, the father of the far famed captive girl, emigrated in 1777, with a wife and nine children. They located near one of the forts, upon a spot of ground which is at present covered by the city of Wilkes-Barre.

The early training of the family had been on principles averse to war, and Jonathan was loath to mix with the tumult of the valley. A son by brook the evident intentions of the Torys and the name of Giles, of a fiery spirit, could not British, and consequently he shouldered his musket and was one to take part in the battle of July 3d, 1778.

The prowling clans of savages and bushwhacking Torys which continued to harrass the valley, occasioned much mischief in different parts, and in the month of November, following the battle, it was the misfortune of the Slocum family to be visited by a party of these Delawares, who approached the cabin, in front of which two Kingsley boys were engaged at a grind stone, sharpening a knife. The elder had on a Continental coat, which aroused the ire of the savages, and he was shot down without warning and scalped by the very knife which he had put edge to.

The report aroused the inmates of the house, and Mrs. Slocum had reached the door in time sufficient to see the boy of her neighbor scalped.

An older daughter seized a young child two years old, and flew with terror to the woods. It is said that her impetuosity in escaping caused the Indians to roar with laughter. They were about to take away a boy, when Mrs. Slocum pointed to a lame foot exclaiming "The child is lame, he can do thee no good." They dropped. the boy, and discovered little Frances hidden away under the staircase. It was but the act of a moment to secure her, and when they bore her

away the tender child could but look over the Indian's shoulder and scream "mamma."

The alarm soon spread, but the elasticity of at Delaware's step had carried the party away into the mountains.

Mr. Slocum was absent at the time of the capture, and upon returning at night learned the sad

news.

The family's trials did not end here. Miner, who is ever in sympathy with the early annals of Wyoming, thus depicts the scenes which occurred afterward:

"The cup of Devengeance was not yet full. cember 16th, Mr. Slocum and Isaac Tripp, esq., his father in law, an aged man, with William Slocum, a youth of nineteen or twenty, were feeding cattle from a stack in the meadow, in sight of the fort, when they were fired upon by Indians. Mr. Slocum was shot dead; Mr. Tripp wounded, speared, and tomahawked; both were scalped. William, wounded by a spent ball in the heel, escaped and gave the alarm, but the alert and wily foe had retreated to his hiding place in the mountain. This deed, bold as it was cruel, was perpetrated within the town plot, in the centre of which the fortress was located. Thus, in little more than a month, Mrs. Slocum had lost a beloved child, carried into captivity; the doorway had been drenched in blood by the murder of a member of the family; two others of the household had been taken away prisoners; and now her husband and father were both stricken down to the grave, murdered and mangled by the merciless Indians. Verily, the annals of Indian atrocities, written in blood, record few instances of desolation and woe to equal this." In 1784, after had settled peace the country, two of the Slocum brothers visited Niagara, in hopes of learning something of the whereabouts of the lost sister, but to no purpose. Large rewards were offered, but money will not extract a confession from an Indian which will break into the family circle.

upon

Little Frances all this time was widely known by many tribes of Indians, but she had become one of them, hence the mystery which enshroud

ed her fate.

The efforts of the family were untiring. Several trips were made westward, and each resulted

in vain. A large number of Indians of different tribes were convened, in 1789, at Tioga Point, to effect a treaty with Colonel Proctor. This opportunity seemed to be the fitting one, for one visit could reach several tribes, but Mrs. Slocum, after spending weeks of inquiry among them, was again obliged to return home in sorrow, and almost despair.

The Brothers took a journey in 1797, occupying nearly the whele summer, in traversing the wilderness and Indian settlements of the west, but to no purpose. Once, indeed, a ray of hope seemed to glimmer upon the domestic darkness, for a female captive responded to the many and urgent inquiries, but Mrs. Slocum discovered at once that it was not her Frances. The mother of the lost child went down to the grave, having never heard from her daughter since she was carried away captive.

In 1826, Mr. Joseph Slocum, hearing of a prominent Wyandot chief who had a white woman for a wife, repaired to Sandusky, Lut was disappointed when he beheld the woman who he knew to a certainty could not be Frances. Hope had become almost abandoned, and the family was allowing the memory of the lost girl to sink into forgetfulness, when one of those strange freaks of circumstances which seem so mysterious to humanity, but which are the ordinary actions of Infinity, brought to light the history and the person of the captive girl of Wyoming.

Colonel Ewing, who was connected with Indian service, had occasion to rest with a tribe on the Wabash, when he discovered a woman whose outlines and texture convinced him that she must be a white woman, although her face was as red as any squaw's could be. He made inquiries, and she admitted that she had been taken from her parents when young, that her name was SLOCUM, and that she was now so old that she had no objections to having her relations know of her whereabouts.

The Colonel knew full well, how anxious many eastern hearts were to hear of the lost one of earlier days, and thinking that he would do a charitable service, he addressed the following letter to the Postmaster of Lancaster, Pennsylvania:

Logansport, Indiana, January 20, 1835. "DEAR SIR,-In the hope that some good may result from it, I have taken this means of giving to your fellow-citizens-say the descendants of the early settlers of the Susquehanna-the following information; and if there be any now living whose name is Slocum, to them, I hope, the following may be communicated through the public prints of your place.

"There is now living near this place, among the Miami tribe of Indians, an aged white woman, who a few days ago told me, while I lodged in the camp one night, that she was taken away from her father's house, on or near the Susquehanna river, when she was very young-say from five to eight years old, as she thinks-by the Delaware Indians, who were then hostile toward the whites. She says her father's name was Slocum; that he was a Quaker, rather small in stature, and wore a large-brimmed hat; was of sandy hair and light complexion, and much freckled; that he lived about a half a mile from a town where there was a fort; that they lived in a wooden house of two stories high, and had a spring near the house. She says three Delawares came to the house in the day time, when all were absent but herself, and perhaps two other children: her father and brothers were absent making hay. The Indians carried her off, and she was adopted into a family of Delawares, who raised her and treated her as their own child. They died about forty years ago, somewhere in Ohio. She was then married to a Miami, by whom she had four children; two of them are now living-they are both danghters -and she lives with them. Her husband is dead; she is old and feeble and thinks she will not live long.

"These considerations induced her to give the present history of herself, which she would never do before, fearing that her kindred would come and force her away. She has lived long and happy as an Indian, and, but for her color, would not be suspected of being anything else but such. She is very respectable and wealthy, sober and honest. Her name is without reproach. She says her father had a large family, say eight children in all-six older than herself, one younger, as well as she can recollect; and she doubts not

that there are still living many of their descendants, but seems to think that all her brothers and sisters must be dead, as she is very old herself, not far from the age of eighty. She thinks she was taken prisoner before the two last wars, which must mean the Revolutionary war, Wayne's war and the late war have been since that one. She has entirely lost her mother tongue, and speaks only in Indian, which I also understand, and she gave me a full history of herself.

as

"Her own Christian name she has forgotten, but says her father's name was Slocum, and he was a Quaker. She also recollects that it was on the Susquehanna River that they lived. I have thought that from this letter you might cause something to be inserted in the newspapers of your county that might possibly catch the eye of some of the descendants of the Slocum family, who have knowledge of a girl having been carried off by the Indians some seventy years ago. This they might know from family tradition. If so, and they will come here, I will carry them where they may see the object of my letter alive. and happy, though old and far advanced in life.

"I can form no idea whereabouts on the Susquehanna River this family could have lived at that early period, namely, about the time of the Revolutionary war, but perhaps you can ascertain more about it. If so, I hope you will interest yourself, and, if possible, let her brothers and sisters, if any be alive,-if not, their childrenknow where they may once more see a relative whose fate has been wrapped in mystery for seventy years, and for whom her bereaved and afflicted parents doubtless shed many a bitter tear. They have long since found their graves, though their lost child they never found. I have been much affected with the disclosure, and hope the surviving friends may obtain, through your goodness, the information I desire for them. If I can be of any service to them, they may cominand me. In the mean time, I hope you will excuse me for the freedom I have taken with you, a total stranger, and believe me to be, sir, with much respect, your obedient servant,

"GEO. W. EWING." This letter met the fate of many others of importance-it was flung away as a wild story.